#and learning to lead the best way they can in a fundamental cruel setting

[helenaklein]

rising from the dead to announce that heart of trespia has breached the crown & the flame levels of emotional investment for me

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.

Chapter 12: Interlude

--//--

THE BURIAL MOUNDS – INFORMATION – LEVEL 4

Wen Ning loves his sister.

When they were both far too young, Wen Qing became both mother and father to him, caring for him, looking out for him, feeding him, clothing him, scolding him, comforting him —

They’d had extended family to help, of course. She’d been too young to truly do it on her own, but the fact of the matter is that everyone has their own lives to lead, and though they were (are) important to their family, everyone is always dealing with the tragedies of life, large, small, and mundane; the pair of them becoming orphans was ultimately just another minuscule tragedy in the long suffering of human history. They picked themselves up and got on with things.

Wen Ning has understood from far too young an age that to survive is sometimes the best that they can ask for, but that to ensure at least that much sometimes sacrifices must be made.

Wen Qing, as pragmatic a woman as she is, can’t bring herself to commit violence even against those who wrong them. Wen Ning respects her boundaries, understands that as a doctor (in the truest meaning of the word, down to her soul), she can’t bring herself to harm when her hands were always meant to heal.

As a boy, Wen Ning had loved learning medicine at her side as she learned it first from the elders in their family and then practiced it herself, honing her craft under Wen Ruohan’s generous sponsorship until she’d grown up and proven herself skilled enough to tend to him personally — where he’d subjected her to witnessing horrors she still won’t discuss. He’d always thought, when he was young and naïve, that he would share her passion for healing, and be a gentle soul worthy of practicing at her side.

Some might say now that he’s been corrupted by Wei Wuxian’s influence; some believe the rumors that Wei Wuxian is irredeemably evil, cruel, twisted, that he mocks the world and all things good simply by existing. The truth, of course, is that he’s a powerful man who can’t stand to see the weak being bullied, and he’s unafraid to take whatever drastic measures he deems necessary to maintain as clean of a conscience as he can.

Wen Ning — who understands that the world is uncaring and that hurting no one often means becoming the one who’s hurt — finds a sense of relief in having become the weapon in his best friend’s right hand. He doesn’t have the talent for subterfuge that his sister does, nor her ability to ignore the violence of others in order to adhere to her own strict moral code. It’s been far better for him, in the years since they barely escaped Wen Ruohan’s ‘protection’ with their family and their lives, to train hard and let himself be honed into a weapon to be used with judicious care, and always with gratitude from the man he owes his life to.

Wen Ning stalks through the halls and corridors of the Burial Mounds – the dead mountain, mined to nothing but its own bones, that Wei Wuxian has claimed for them as a home and fortress; his experiments in nuclear technology buried too deeply underground to hurt anyone, and his righteous love and protection extended to anyone brave enough to set foot in this place — and wants nothing more than to find the person who put his sister (and Chifeng-zun) in danger. Somewhere in his home there is an inconsequential worm who thinks they can betray someone as fundamentally good and as deeply enraged as Wei Wuxian and get away with it unscathed. They must be taught why the world rightly fears the Yiling Laozu.

More than anything, Wen Ning hates to see those he loves disrespected, and this insult isn’t the type that Wen Qing’s empty threats and sly words can return.

“Find the rat,” Wei Wuxian had said, though couched in roundabout language that wouldn’t alarm their deeply traumatized guests. After all, it wouldn’t do to frighten them when they’d only just gotten the boys to settle enough to stop flinching every time someone looked their way. In Wei Wuxian’s eyes, dead and glittering above his perpetual smile, there had been the simple, silent instruction: “Make them pay.”

All things told, the actual operation of the Burial Mounds is accomplished on a fairly small scale. Not many people truly want to live their lives on the edge like this, and most of the people who come to Wei Wuxian are looking for help and security, not to be a gun in his (miniscule) arsenal. At any given time, the majority of the occupants of the Burial Mounds are civilians in the living quarters, followed by researchers (whose jobs do not, under any circumstances, require them to put their lives on the line), followed by internal security, and only then, the smallest portion, are the people who go out on the missions Wei Wuxian deems absolutely necessary for furthering his goals.

The only people who would be at all in the know about the plans involving Chifeng-zun and Jin Guangyao would be the on-duty internal security who had been briefed with minimal detail on the strangers’ presence in the bunker, and then their need to leave it again almost immediately using the classes of vehicles typically reserved for Wei Wuxian and those he trusts the most. After all, not just anyone gets to leave the Burial Mounds in one of their precious few aircraft ‘borrowed’ from the PLA Air Force division, and fewer still get to leave it in the company of Jiang Wanyin on Sandu.

Inner security is so sparsely staffed that Wen Ning can exonerate over three quarters of them through simple exclusion — anyone not on duty on the interrogation floors within the last two days would know nothing of their true plans regarding the Wens and the Jins, and of the people on duty within those 48 hours only two of them are currently unaccounted for amongst all of the security posts and patrol routes in the mountain.

With all of that in mind, it’s laughably easy to find the person who had decided they had information worth sharing (their betrayal carried out via an embarrassingly straightforward and poorly-made system of self-installed radio and telegraph transmission that piggybacks directly off of the Burial Mounds’ locked-down communications bay). 

The man responsible is a relatively new addition to the Burial Mounds. He’d appeared some time ago with very little to recommend him beyond having once held some minor position in the Lans’ intelligence agency prior to its destruction, followed by an equally unimpressive and even briefer stint in the Jins’ research labs. But Wei Wuxian is a good man who rarely, if ever, turns away someone claiming to be in need. Wen Ning has always liked that about him, even though his sister has often muttered that it’s a habit that’ll get them all killed one day if he doesn’t start getting more selective about his rescues. It is especially appalling, then, to find that someone who had sought out their help has seen fit to put the people Wen Ning loves in needless danger.

“I did you idiots a favor!” the man shouts as Wen Ning drags him, bound, down the unremarkable hallway of Level 4, no sounds but the one-sided scuffling echoing back to them from the miles of unyielding black stone broken only by the sickly phosphorescence of the old mining lamps. “Is this how the Yiling Laozu treats his own people? He truly is a heartless devil like everyone says!”

Wen Ning, his Ghost General — half-dead and only walking, only conscious at all, thanks to Wei Wuxian’s love and his dogged pursuit of fringe medicine techniques that would put most of Wen Ruohan’s ‘doctors’ to shame — simply drags his wriggling prey to an unremarkable iron door and hauls him inside with inhuman strength. He shuts the door softly behind himself and turns to face the sniveling weasel who’d dared to betray the man who once held Wen Ning’s dead heart in his hands to force it to start it again; who sneers around Wei Wuxian’s name and spits that Wen Ning’s savior is a devil; whose actions put We Ning’s beloved sister in grave danger, and continues to endanger a man under Wei Wuxian’s explicit protection.

When their eyes meet, Wen Ning can see that his prey suddenly understands just how badly he’s miscalculated.

“Wei-laoshi is not a devil, gongzi” he gently corrects as he begins to remove his ever-present gloves. Black leather slips away to reveal bone-pale hands that never truly feel warm anymore, thickly cross-hatched with silver scars bit into him by blades and fingernails and teeth and every other manner of self-defense imaginable; weapons that, in the end, he’s always been able to overwhelm. “He only made one.”

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

THE BURIAL MOUNDS — MOUNTAINTOP HANGAR

Wen Qing arrives home in a controlled panic, Lan Wangji there to meet her in the hangar with his usual stoic expression made grimmer by his news.

“Tell me now,” she sighs, exhausted and aching all over from the blows she’d taken on her way back out of Nightless City. “What have you found?”

“The source of the leak here and the executor of their plan in Qishan.”

Wen Qing, thanks only to years of practice, finds enough patience that she manages not to snap that she figured that, she wants to know who, dammit! (Perhaps, she allows, being married to Jiang Cheng has involved more…personality blending than she’d originally thought it would.)

“Who are they?” she asks with what she feels is admirable neutrality under the circumstances.

“New additions to Wei Ying’s inner security. One rogue, one formerly Lan. Both known to work for the Jin within the last two years.”

It takes an extra beat of expectant silence for her to put two-and-two together, but when she does she can’t resist the urge to tilt her head back and swear loudly enough (a deeply cathartic, “FUCK!”) that Lan Wangji glances around on instinct to make sure A-Yuan isn’t lurking near enough to hear her, though naturally he should be asleep this late at night. (Or is it early in the morning? She supposes the latter, considering the far-off eastern horizon is a shade of robin’s egg blue rather than the black of this endless night.)

“And of course those two bastards are the ones who volunteered to go test Nie Mingjue their first night in Yiling–“

“When no one could locate Jin Guangyao until he joined xiongzhang and Chifeng-zun at the park. Yes.”

“They’re in his pocket,” Wen Qing asks, but at this point it’s hardly a question. What other answer could there be?

“It is unconfirmed but…possible. He is untrustworthy, but do not make assumptions. Ge trusts him, and we will learn the truth from Jin Guangyao ourselves in due time.”

Wen Qing barely refrains from reminding her sort-of-brother-in-law that she warned them all this would happen! Wei Wuxian’s generosity is one of his most wonderful features, she acknowledges that and has absolutely benefited from it for the majority of her adult life, but there need to be limits! She can’t stand to see the people that she loves betrayed and taken advantage of, and there is no one that she knows with a worse self-preservation instinct than Wei Wuxian. He’d cut himself open and tear the beating heart out of his own chest if he thought someone he loves could make better use of it than its valiant attempts to keep him alive (without ever considering for a moment that what the people he loves want most of all is to see him thrive).

Rather than delivering the biting ‘I told you so’ that they both know is on the tip of her tongue, she asks, “Where is everyone? What happens now?”

“A-Ning is on Level 4. Xiongzhang has gone to Lanling.”

Wen Qing, with barely any of the skill in reading Lan Wangji’s microscopic expressions necessary to communicate with him properly as Wei Wuxian and the other Lans do, can still see the fear in his eyes as clear as day.

If the Jins have been tipped off as to their plans — if Jin Guangyao is truly the rat in their home — then Lan Xichen has just walked straight into a trap which he is highly unlikely to walk back out of. It strikes her as suddenly as a bolt of lightning, utterly unexpected and utterly terrifying, that her husband is in Lanling, taking the snake right back to his den.

“A-Cheng-” is all she manages to say, sharp as a knife, before the fear chokes her and she staggers, everything that’s happened in the last roughly-24-hours hitting her all at once in the safety of her own home.

Lan Wangji’s quick reflexes keep her upright, one of his hands cupped firmly under her elbow to hold her steady as she gets her feet under her again, a palm pressed to her forehead and her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the sallow lights of the hangar.

“Wei Ying is sleeping at Jiang-guniang’s insistence, we will not move until evening at the earliest. You should rest.”

Wen Qing ruthlessly tamps down the panic Lan Wangji’s suggestion sends racing through her veins, fresh adrenaline chasing away the exhausting crash from the previous rush, when she’d narrowly escaped her uncle’s clutches once again.

“I won’t sleep until he’s home,” she tells him as she gently shakes his supporting hand off her arm and straightens herself out with an effort. The thought of sleeping fitfully, full of nightmares, just to wake and learn that her husband has left her a widow while she’d been tossing and turning? Utterly unbearable. “Is Lan-xiansheng still monitoring the radios?”

“Mn.”

“I’ll join him, I want to know what’s happening as it happens. Let Wuxian sleep as long as he can.”

It isn’t often that Wen Qing pulls ‘rank’, as much as one can within the family. But when it comes right down to it, she is Wei Wuxian’s partner in this, and in many ways outranks Wei Wuxian himself. This is her family. This is their place. Wei Wuxian has been brought into the fold, he protects them, he does what needs to be done. But so does she, and so does Wen Ning.

Lan Wangji, who better understands the intricacies of their mutable authority than anyone else except Wen Ning, simply nods and falls into step at her side when she takes a deep breath and strides deeper into the mountain.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

YILING CITY — 莲花 VILLA

Jiang Yanli sighs as she finally lays down in her own bed, more exhausted than she’d like to admit from the day and yet unable to shut her mind off enough to feel capable of sleeping just yet.

Jin Zixuan, snoring softly beside her, wakes a few minutes after she lays down with a sharp inhale and a hand groping for hers across the sheets, as always his first desire upon waking: to find her, to reassure himself that she’s safe. It warms her heart as it always does and goes at least some way towards quieting some of her worries, enough for her to turn onto her side and smile at him across the pillows as he opens his eyes.

“Hey,” he rasps, bringing his hand up from hers to cup the side of her head instead, his fingers sleep-clumsy but still gentle as he runs them through her hair to push it back over her ear. “Everything alright?”

“Mm. A-Xian finally fell asleep.”

As expected, Jin Zixuan clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, though she knows at this point it’s mostly for show.

“We’ll have to get him a fruit basket to thank him for giving you so much practice putting infants to sleep.”

“A-Xuan,” she chides, laughing behind her hand, and she loves the way it makes him smile and drag her in closer, his arm around her waist now so he can reel her in and kiss her forehead.

They linger there in the silence for long enough that Jiang Yanli is fairly certain Jin Zixuan has fallen asleep; he surprises her when he kisses her forehead again, firmly enough that it’s clearly intentional and not simply him seeking her out in his sleep.

“I don’t want to keep living like this when the baby comes,” Jin Zixuan admits in a whisper, as if by saying it softly he might be able to pretend he never said it at all. She understands why, of course; it’s highly unlikely that either Jin Guangshan or Jin Fangyuan have ever truly allowed their son to want anything they didn’t expressly agree with, and with those two for parents she suspects that there were no other options for the future even hinted at to their ‘only’ son and heir.

“It’s not exactly the best environment for an infant,” she agrees, smiling sadly where she’s hidden tucked away under his chin. “It’s not really the best environment for any of us, is it?”

Jin Zixuan exhales long and slow, shaky like he’s releasing some tender emotion she can take a pretty good guess at.

“No.”

Jiang Yanli hums and reaches up to curl her arm under the comforting press of Jin Zixuan’s so she can at least rub her fingertips in circles between his shoulder blades, soothing and slow as he trembles in the way that means he’s trying not to show weakness.

“What am I going to tell my father?” he finally asks, an agonized whisper against the top of her head. Jiang Yanli blinks her eyes open in the dark and very pointedly, very concertedly, does not laugh at the absurdity of this whole thing. Jin Zixuan is continuing before she’s quite gotten a handle on the desire to laugh at the most absolutely inappropriate time (perhaps exhaustion is making her a little giddy). “I’ll tell him everything A-Li, I swear I will. I’ll tell him that I’ve fallen in love and that we’re going to be married and why — all of it. I just..I don’t know how. All father really cares about is the business and his mistresses, he never really cares what happens with me so long as everything is business as usual…”

Jiang Yanli finally gets a hold of herself enough to cup the back of Jin Zixuan’s head and hold him in place long enough to tip her own head back and kiss him quiet.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” she suggests, rather than saying ‘We’ve just sent your brother to kill your father, actually, so it’s completely up to you what happens with the Jin next! Congratulations’. It just seems a bit cruel, and that’s probably the sort of thing that Mo Xuanyu should be made aware of at the same time and —

Well, it’s late. It’s a conversation better had in the light of day (and after the confirmation of Jin Guangyao’s success has arrived; there’s no sense in telling Jin Zixuan that his father is dead until he definitely is, that’s really just putting the cart before the horse).

Jin Zixuan sighs and kisses her again, placing pin in the conversation for a few hours at least, and releases her long enough to let her turn onto her other side to sleep. He cuddles up behind her back instantly, arms wrapping firmly around her and holding her close for his own comfort, she knows, as much as her own.

Things are going to have to change. Jin Zixuan finishes tucking himself around her only once he can gently, carefully, rest a hand on the slight swell of her belly under the loose silk of her nightgown, and Jiang Yanli curls her smaller hand over his with a sense of determination perhaps disproportionate to the intimacy of the gesture. Jin Zixuan is absolutely right — things can’t go on like this, not if they want to hope for a better future for their children (and not just theirs, but also for little Wen Yuan under the care of all the Wens and Wei Wuxian, already far too accustomed to grief and tragedy for a boy his age; and for all the children who will inherit whatever world they create for them).

Jiang Yanli sighs into the darkness of her room — the first hints of dawn bluing the window opposite her gently enough that it’s only visible in the pitch-black her eyes have grown accustomed to — and attempts to heed her own suggestion. She can think about this later; for now, she needs to sleep as she’s always admonishing the people she loves to do, and the rest will simply have to wait.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

THE BURIAL MOUNDS — COMMUNICATIONS — LEVEL 13

Lan Qiren’s life is hardly what he would have ever imagined it to be when he was much younger and, he knows now, much more naïve.

Of course he’d known at a relatively young age that ‘intelligence’ work for the other family syndicates wasn’t as bloodless as his family liked to claim, but in his time leading the Cloud Recesses he’d done his level best to make it as true as it could be. Wen Ruohan had put paid to that rather thoroughly, and Lan Qiren — along with his beloved nephews and the surviving members of the Lan organization’s core — had been forced to choose: A life of open bloodshed to eke out their own survival, or a cruel and agonizing death at the hands of either the Wens or the War.

There were many who had chosen to die in their principles. Lan Qiren may have been one of them, but his responsibility to his nephews had ensured he hadn’t had that luxury. He’d been left no choice but to do his duty: to survive, and to ensure his nephews did as well, by whatever means he could stomach.

In the years between his moral surrender and being brought into the fold of Wei Wuxian’s small operation doing everything they can to help the world limp towards peace, the War had taken its toll and left him bitter and jaded, thoroughly unable to remember how to see the good in people when all he knows anymore is atrocity after atrocity, pain and suffering the likes of which his honored ancestors in all their wisdom could have never anticipated when they’d established the governing rules of the clan so long ago. How can one truly believe in justice and mercy and the worth of all beings after seeing the things that he has; the things people are willing — eager even — to do to each other; the monstrous weapons the powers of the world create and turn on each other with reckless abandon?

It’s a question that Wei Wuxian doesn’t have an answer for either, but at least he’s been doing something to attempt to whisk the newest class of barbaric weapons away where others can’t use them to level entire cities again. Working with Wei Wuxian is not something he would have ever anticipated in his life Before, when the boy was loud and uncouth and vivaciously bright, blinding in his arrogance and his love for life unfettered. Now, he’s a very different man than he was in those halcyon days, burdened with an early maturity born out of harsh necessity, and against all odds Lan Qiren has realized over the years that he respects him on a much deeper level than simple like or dislike could ever touch.

They’ve all changed, in the end. Even him.

Wen Qing joins him in the communications room at daybreak and wordlessly takes the seat beside his to plug into the neighboring section of switchboard and begin the laborious process of unplugging and reinserting her line in a new spot every few moments, scanning the lines with practiced efficiency as, with her free hand, she runs the radio scanner through their most used frequencies on an endless rotation. Lan Qiren offers her a nod, silent commiseration for the fear of not knowing and simply having to wait, and ruminates some more on how things change.

He’s sitting beside a Wen. And not only sitting beside a Wen, but working with her, trusting her judgment and her integrity — and that of her entire family that populates the Burial Mounds. Of course he doesn’t live here permanently, he’s only here from Gusu until this latest plot of Wei Wuxian’s is resolved and he can retreat once again to continue the laborious work of rebuilding his home, but the fact still stands; the times are changing and Lan Qiren has changed with them as much as he’s been able. His implicit trust in the Wen heiress sitting beside him is proof of that, if nothing else is.

“A-Cheng!” Wen Qing gasps sharply a few hours into their vigil, startling Lan Qiren away from his half-asleep monitoring of the sonar signal from the river and the radar reading the skies. There’s no accompanying pip on the sonar of Jiang Wanyin’s Sandu coming back down the river, but of course the telephone lines stretch much further.

“Laopo,” he hears faintly through Wen Qing’s headset, the sound carrying easily through the deep silence of the room buried in the heart of the mountain. He resists the urge to clear his throat and announce his presence to Jiang Wanyin in the hopes of preventing further endearments. (After observing Wangji’s and Wei Wuxian’s frequent and enthusiastic affections, Jiang Wanyin and Wen Qing can hardly be considered offensive, after all.) “You’re home.”

“Where are you? What’s happened?”

“Too much to say over the wire, and I’ll have to keep moving in a few minutes. I’m fine, I swear.”

Lan Qiren does harrumph just a little at that — of course Jiang Wanyin is fine, he hadn’t doubted that for a moment even with the suspicions laid against Jin Guangyao. Jiang Wanyin is one of the few young people in this world outside of his own family that Lan Qiren has a genuinely high opinion of, even when taking into consideration his quick temper and penchant for violent expressions of said temper.

“And the others?”

“Mianmian is flying Zewu-Jun and Jin Guangyao to Qishan, they want to rescue Chifeng-Zun.”

“Give that to me,” Lan Qiren finally says and gestures for the headset. Wen Qing’s expression stills like she’s attempting to hide a flash of irritation, but she works the headset carefully over her updo and passes it across the space between their desks without complaint.

“Did Jin Guangyao betray us?” No one has ever accused Lan Qiren of delicacy.

“What?? No! They beat the shit out of him Lan-laoshi, and whatever he did to get rid of Jin Guangshan, Jin Fangyuan, and their shithead nephew was enough to make even Mianmian a little pale.”

“He could use our goals to accomplish his own and still be responsible for the betrayal in Qishan,” Wen Qing muses, raising an eyebrow at him with an elegant shrug. “Despising his father does not mean he’s loyal to us, and he and Chifeng-Zun have little love for each other.”

“I heard that — I’m telling you, no way,” Jiang Wanyin protests instantly. “He’s with us, I can tell. Besides, if he’s not, then he’s at least loyal to his siblings, and we’ve got two out of the three at jiejie’s house, with much easier access to get at Qin-guniang than he has if we need extra leverage. He wouldn’t jeopardize their safety like that.”

“Surely he knows we wouldn’t truly hurt the Mo boy? We were freeing him, not actually using him as bargaining chip,” Wen Qing sniffs, but this time Lan Qiren counters her insistence on wasting precious time by arguing with her own husband by shooting her a piercing glare.

“Do not argue with family for it does not matter who wins. Trust your husband, Wen-guniang. If you grasp after the vengeful ghosts of your imagination you will find only empty air,” he reprimands, sharp around the edges. “Your refusal to set aside your suspicion will blind you to any facts you do not care for and color your understanding of the truth; I suggest you curb your suppositions in favor of logic.”

“Only an abundance of caution, Lan-laoshi, but this one thanks you for your instruction,” Wen Qing sighs, mostly just sounding tired.

“My nephew?” Lan Qiren asks Jiang Wanyin next, aware of valuable time ticking by but still, he needs to know.

“He’s perfectly fine, Lan-laoshi, I promise. He wasn’t even in Lanling for an hour in total, and most of that was spent waiting for Jin Guangyao to finish getting rid of Zixun so they could both leave for Qishan.”

“Mm. It would seem that our support will be needed to the north, then,” Lan Qiren sighs. Confronting Wen Ruohan will not be a simple task, nor a bloodless one if he’s any judge of the old monster. He trusts his nephew to handle himself, but despite his admonition to Wen Qing he’s also too inclined towards ‘an abundance of caution’ to allow one of the men he raised (who may as well be his son at this point) to fly straight into the lion’s den with no support beyond Jin Guangyao, who has likely had a very long night.

“Maybe. Listen, I’m about an hour upriver I’d say, we can discuss it when I get there. I need to go, I’ve been in one place too long.”

Wen Qing gestures sharply for the headset again and Lan Qiren gamely passes it back.

“A-Cheng, wait-“

“I’ll see you there,” Jiang Wanyin promises, followed by a few more things he says too quietly for Lan Qiren to overhear. More reassurances, he assumes, as Wen Qing’s shoulders slump an entire inch and she closes her eyes for a long moment before taking the headset off again to set it down gently on the desk.

“I’m going to find A-Ning to give him the update,” she announces and stands with a bone-weary sigh.

“As you wish.”

Wen Qing nods and turns for the door, her boot-heavy footsteps pausing when he calls to her over his shoulder.

“Wen-guniang.”

“Lan-laoshi?”

“I would say something before you inevitably leave for Qishan, and abuse my right as your elder to say whatever I please.”

Wen Qing turns slowly on one heel to raise an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed delicately across her middle.

“Yes?”

“Should you and Jiang Wanyin ever have news of a very…particular sort to announce, I hope you’ll consider me close enough to your family to inform me of it as well.”

Wen Qing blinks at him a few times slowly, uncomprehending, but when he sees the implication land he has to hide a hint of a smile with a clearing of his throat and a stroke or two to his goatee.

“Ah — Lan-laoshi — we haven’t really…”

“Jiang-guniang’s forthcoming announcement will suffice for the time being, but I should warn you I believe I will require a steady supply of grandchildren, and it seems my nephews will both shun this particular filial duty and leave it to others to carry the torch.”

“Wait, Yanli-jie — you know about that?”

Lan Qiren snorts and turns back to face the greenish glow of his monitors with an unamused hmph. “I am not yet so old that I cannot see the obvious signs, Wen-guniang, even had I not been in the business of dealing others’ secrets for most of my life. It is my job to know things that will be of benefit to me and my family, and I would count her situation as being of benefit to me. Now go find your brother, he will require calming before you leave, and you should both sleep as well. You’re young, not invincible.”

Wen Qing splutters for a moment behind him, wordless surprise and a couple aborted beginnings of questions before she simply gives up with a huff and wishes him a somewhat uncharitable, “Goodbye Lan-xiansheng,” on her way out of the room.

As the underwater sonar suddenly pings an incoming craft at the furthest range it can read, Lan Qiren muses that perhaps it’s beneficial on occasion to spend some time away from home. He’ll never be able to restore what was completely, and there is of course no restoring the lives lost that he’ll carry guilt for for the rest of his life. But it’s good to be involved in the work of repairing at least some of the damages wrought — and bothering young people who think they run the entire world is much more fun than he would ever have anticipated.

He makes a mental note to talk to Wei Wuxian when this is all over about taking a more active role in his organization, but for now they all have a job to finish; he intends to do his part to help them all see it through to the end.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

YILING CITY — 莲花 VILLA

It is near noon, and Wei Ying is still sleeping.

Lan Wangji is glad to have Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing as his allies in ensuring everyone else allows him to stay that way; they don’t understand. No one else in this room (save him and the two women Wei Ying holds in his heart as his sisters) truly sees the way that Wei Ying stays awake for days on end, sometimes even a week or more with only a stolen hour or two of sleep every so often, and that only when his body simply collapses from the strain of it all. No one else seems to understand that Wei Ying is killing himself to keep them all as safe as he can, that he views the personal cost of his own life as a reasonable price to pay for their continued survival. Even fewer people see how thoroughly it shatters Lan Wangji’s heart to watch the man he loves more than his own life carve piece after piece off of himself in the service of those closest to him, who would wish first and foremost to see him well.

Jiang Wanyin has been their staunchest opponent, too sharp around the edges as he voices his plans to wake Wei Wuxian as soon as possible and begin hashing out the next part of his scheme. Wen Qing is proving to be of most value there, curbing her husband’s enthusiasm with her equally sharp tongue and, he’s seen in moments when she thinks no one is watching, a few jabs with her claw-like nails between Jiang Wanyin’s ribs that always make him settle, grumbling, into an uneasy acceptance that he’s not going to get his way.

Lan Wangji doesn’t particularly care about his brother-in-law’s pride, or that he wants to go tearing off to Qishan immediately to end this once and for all. They’ll finish it when the time is right, of that much he’s certain, and that doesn’t necessarily mean running headlong into unknown danger just because Jiang Wanyin is a man incapable of sitting still.

(Jiang Wanyin isn’t the only voice urging that they leave for Qishan immediately but he’s certainly the loudest and most belligerent [and also Lan Wangji kind of hates him], which feel like valid reasons to make the man the focus of his current irritation.)

The boys they’ve rescued, Mo Xuanyu and Nie Huaisang, are sitting in the midst of it all sipping at Jiang Yanli’s best jasmine tea, watching the proceedings with wide, curious eyes and not a hint of fear despite Jiang Wanyin’s blustering and the fact that Wen Ning, when he arrives from the Burial Mounds, still has some flecks of blood on his face from torturing Su She for as much information as he was willing to share. (Lan Wangji remembers the man as particularly loose-lipped, to the detriment of the entire Lan clan that survived the initial attack by the Wens, and, in a turn of events he could never have expected that awful day, finds himself hoping that this was still the case.)

In greeting, Lan Wangji pulls a white handkerchief from his pocket and dips a corner in Jiang Wanyin’s abandoned glass of water to hold out wordlessly toward Wen Ning as the man half-observes Jiang Wanyin and Jin Zixuan arguing against Wen Qing with the air of men who know they’re losing but who feel honor-bound to do so with as much fuss as possible. Wen Ning takes the handkerchief with a confused slant to his brows until Lan Wangji taps his own face with a fingertip in the appropriate spot, and his husband’s best friend hurries to wipe away the evidence of his night’s activities with a bumbling sort of hurry that’s thoroughly at odds with his well-deserved reputation for ruthlessness.

“Th-thank you, Hanguang-jun,” Wen Ning murmurs somewhat guiltily, though that’s also just sort of…how he always is, especially since Wei Wuxian dragged him back from the brink of death and Wen Ning has never let himself stop carrying the weight of that ‘debt’ on his shoulders.

“Mn.”

“Mr Lan?” Lan Wangji blinks down at Mo Xuanyu, wide-eyed and looking more than a little shell-shocked. “Did Jiang-jiejie’s didi really just say that Yao-ge killed my father?”

“ —e need to go get them now, before Wen Ruohan learns the truth!”

“Word won’t travel to Qishan that fast, you just said Mianmian blew up all of their communications on your way out!”

“Wait-” Jin Zixuan cuts in on Jiang Wanyin and Wen Qing’s spat, and a quick glance is more than enough to note that he’s just as pale and shocked as Mo Xuanyu (which Lan Wangji supposes answers Mo Xuanyu’s question in the affirmative). “My father is dead?”

The ensuing silence is a welcome reprieve from the endless rounds of arguing that preceded it, though Lan Wangji realizes it’s probably not a pleasant silence for anyone else.

“Did you…not know that?” Jiang Wanyin asks, and he at least has the decency to wince. Lan Wangji does not allow this to skew his opinion in any positive direction, as he loses points immediately for asking such a pointless question in the first place. Clearly Jin Zixuan didn’t know or else he wouldn’t be asking, nor would he look like he’s about to vomit.

“Um. No.”

“Is it true though? Yao-ge killed him?” Mo Xuanyu asks the room at large, much more insistently.

“He did.” It is, mercifully, Wen Qing who confirms this, her voice businesslike but not cruel, in the particular way she has that Lan Wangji has long admired. “Sometime around dawn.”

Hm. This has the potential to be a decent enough way to distract everyone from their insistence that Wei Ying wake to lead the charge to Qishan. Lan Wangji glances around at the general unease and the variety of emotions on everyone’s faces — guilt, on the Jiang siblings’, constipated nausea (what else is new) on Jin Zixuan’s, cautious elation on Mo Xuanyu’s, shrewd calculation on Nie Huaisang and Wen Qing’s, and a polite sort of anticipatory patience on Wen Ning’s — and he decides that he’d very much like to leave them to their arguing in favor of the rare opportunity to join Wei Ying in bed for an extended period of time.

The faint rustling of silk as he straightens his shoulders in preparation to speak sounds strangely loud in the strangled silence. “Wei Ying will wish to leave for Qishan as quickly as we reasonably can — most likely this evening. I will ensure he is informed of the new developments when he wakes. Rest now and be prepared to move by sunset.”

“Hanguang-Jun,” Wen Qing says, a simple acknowledgment of his authority to speak for his husband along with a nod; she’ll have everything ready to go by sunset, no earlier, no later; of that he can be absolutely sure.

Lan Wangji sweeps out of Jiang Yanli’s living room with all the dignity he can muster (which is quite a lot) to slip through as small of a crack as he can into the guest suite where Wei Ying had finally been cajoled into resting. The light is muted, the heavily-curtained windows west-facing and therefore sheltered from the way the rest of the villa is aglow with golden noon light. Here, the light is a soft, warm blanket of gray, and Wei Ying is little more than an indistinct lump under lilac silk. Lan Wangji carefully slips out of his outer layers, folds them to set them aside, and lifts the sheets just enough to join his husband, who instantly stirs from his corpse-like stillness to bully his way close enough to leech some of Lan Wangji’s body heat, thankfully without waking.

Pressing a soft kiss to his husband’s forehead is as natural as breathing, and as thrilling as flying. To be allowed to hold him is still a pleasure Lan Wangji cannot possibly take for granted, and so rarely does he get to hold Wei Ying when he’s still and quiet, finally resting his tired bones. He presses a few more lingering kisses to his sleep-warm skin and then settles in to ruminate on what they know so that he may present Wei Ying with multiple possibilities when he wakes.

The facts, as they currently know them, are this:

Jin Guangshan, his madam, and his most bloodthirsty nephew (who could possibly challenge Jin Zixuan’s leadership) are all dead.

In their escape from Jinlintai, Luo Qingyang and Jiang Wanyin blew up Lanling’s main research facility and their communications bay to prevent any upstarts from taking advantage of the temporary absence of a leader to abscond with any worthwhile information, though Luo Qingyang grabbed most of what was worth having anyway.

Jin Guangyao is, for now, presumed innocent of any involvement with this latest plot by Su Minshan and Xue Yang (though Lan Wangji well remembers the strength of the friendship between the three over his years spent undercover in Lanling, and feels…disinclined to truly give him the benefit of the doubt no matter what his brother and uncle say. Lan Xichen’s insistence that he can be trusted is currently the only convincing argument in favor of Jin Guangyao’s innocence).

If Jin Guangyao is not innocent, he has both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue trapped in Nightless City at his and Wen Ruohan’s mercy, which is much less than ideal.

And, finally:

Wen Ruohan and his sons are still alive and all in Qishan. If they play their cards right, Lan Wangji and Wei Ying will finally be able to make them pay for their crimes.

There is no doubt at all in Lan Wangji’s mind that Wei Ying will want to see this finished in person. There is also no doubt in his mind that very soon after Wei Ying wakes, he’ll become as cold and unreachable as he had been during the war, a man so deeply traumatized and convinced that his value lies solely in his utility that he will, briefly, forget what it’s like to be loved. To be soft.

Lan Wangji already knows that he will stand at his husband’s side anyway and wait patiently for reality to creep back in and thaw him slowly, piece by beloved piece.

The Wei Ying who will arrive in Qishan will be a ruthless murderer; a weapon that obliterates his targets with a righteous, vengeful fury; a natural disaster barely contained in flesh and bone. How quickly people seem to forget that Wei Ying is the foremost authority on nuclear technology in the world for a reason, and that he has gained his knowledge of it through truly heinous practical application. How quickly people forget that the Yiling Laozu is not a man to be crossed if they value anything remotely resembling a decent life.

Wei Ying sleeps deeply in his arms, and when he wakes Lan Wangji kisses him into the mattress, gifts him a necklace of lovebites to leave evidence of his devotion under Wei Ying’s skin where it’s safest and not easily forgotten, and only then does he tell his husband what they’ve learned since he let his sister convince him to sleep last night.

By the time they leave for Qishan, the sun is a baleful, burning eye, blood-red and bloated with ill omen, watching from the West as they fly North to end this once and for all.

[transxfiles]

i see you've been train to busaned, how was it?

THIS WAS HIDDEN IN MY ASK BOX IDK HOW I MISSED IT BFEORE.. IM ASSUMING THIS IS FROM WHEN I FIRST WATCHED TRAIN TO BUSAN AND I NEED YOU TO KNOW. I AM TRULY FUNDAMENTALLY CHANGED AS A PERSON.. like not only was it a PHENOMENAL zombie film and i won't think about the zombie subgenre the same way again but also its message about what it means to be human which really is a core idea that should be at the center of every zombie film wasj ust so so so beautifula nd had me sobbing at the end and i love that we get an ending that in spite of everything ends wiht hope and i cannot stop thinking about it just in general... and seok-woo learning what it really means to be a good father and figuring out whats important to him when the world starts to fall apart and su-an's unrelenting kindness in the face of the end of humanity and the fact that her father can be so cruel or maybe not even cruel necessarily but just acting out of self-preservation and she is the light in his world and she keeps telling him that the only way out is through kindness and he's afraid to see what that could mean in a way and just in general the way the film shows how destruction and violence only lead to more destruction and how deceiving others is ultimately pointless and how kindness and love are really the only way to make it through tragedy and how you cannot survive an ordeal like this without a reason to continue living and the reason is love and other people.... and as a zombie film too the mechanics it introduces are fantastic, the entire idea of it being set on a train and the world outside the train versus the world inside being so drastically different and i love the creature design where the zombies don't attack unless they see someone it's so interesting and from an internal narrative point it's just so cool, this means the virus is actually pretty easy to contain and it means that wearing camo gear might actually help against zombies which again is just an interesting thought and when i tell you i GASPED when the small group of survivors on the train realized that they could travel through the cars of infected when the train was going through tunnels because of the low visibility THAT WAS SO COOL!! like what a neat idea!! what a fucking amazing design to put in your monsters!!!

and the way the movie is written it's just so beautiful... i love the boy's baseball team and i love the two old women on the train, the sisters, and i love seong-kyeong and her husband and i love how every person in the film feels so real and i LOVE the conductor and how he is determined to do his job as best as he can even as the world falls apart around him, and he keeps his train on the tracks as long as possible and he does everything he can to save everyone he can and AAAA ahg im probably not making a whole lot of sense right now but this movie is really just SO so good. i think it's probably the best zombie movie i've seen and it's one of my favorite pieces of zombie media ever. it really gets to the heart of what zombies as a concept are supposed to be about and it delivers on all fronts. from beginning to end i couldn't take my eyes away from this film it was incredible.

[threadofdestiny]

Magnolia (Bakugou x f!reader)

Feudal Japan AU

Shogun!Bakugou x Midoriya’s sister!reader

Summery: Her mother, lady Midoriya Inko, had once told her that the gods had predestined a path for every single person. All she had to do was follow the path and trust that it would lead her to happiness. But how could (Y/N) find happiness in a political formed marriage with her brother’s rival, a man known for being brutal and cold hearted?

Warnings: sexual content in later chapters / period-typical-sexism / strong language / violence / Drama / Angst / Fluff / Slow Burn/ political marriage / Reader is Izuku's sister / period-typical-discriptions like vague mentions of longer hair to form typical hairstyles or specific wardrobe / Bakugou is not good at feelings / Bakugou is a mean, explosive boi / third-person perspektive

Wattpad

AO3

If someone wants to be tagged, just let me know ;)

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

The life of a lady

No matter what culture you were born into, the structures of the society of the noble born, were always one and the same in their most fundamental form. A life as a noble was blessed with wealth and influence, but intrigues and scandals enjoyed dominance over those who had enough money and power to be part of the emperor's curt.

Only the most important people were powerful enough to receive the honor to get a tailored role in such a glorious play, while the rest served only as cheap, unappreciated extras. However, it did not matter at all whether the nobility was absorbed in their role's descriptions or if they would have preferred to step off that pretential stage. Every single one of them was obliged to play their part. If they did not, they had to expect that it would not only be their own end, but often for their entire family and subordinates as well. In that case, all that could save them was the favor of the crown itself, which usually was as fickle and impressionable as the rough sea.

In a world like this, you didn't decide for yourself who you were...

No, not really...

It was the tongues of the others that had the power to deform the image of your identity. They decided who you were and what was best for you. They defined what was right and what was wrong and were able to destroy you at the slightest misstep. So, bearing a title was a privilege and a burden all at once.

As a noble it was not only important who you were and how well you fulfilled your own part in society, no, it was important who you knew and what contacts you had cultivated. Your connections were what made you powerful. So it was common that unions were closed around various families to secure better conditions for their offspring's or to form better alliances to gain power over the emperor's curt. In a society like this, everyone looked for their own benefits. Compassion was a rare treasure, which could only be found in the fewest individuals. Sons were raised to rule, while daughters were only used as bargaining chips. They must humbly serve their families by marrying powerful men, to obtain alliances. They had to bind themselves to those who were raised to rule over them, without ever getting a chance to decide for themselves.

So... how can anyone romanticize such a morbid spectacle? Why are there such big differences between the rights of various people? Why are the deeds of the powerful always glossed over, while the weaker were oppressed?

Noble warriors, who fought for glory and honor...

Fine diplomats, whose silver tongues could melt every single heart...

Mighty kings, who hold their hand protectively over their people...

Well-guarded ladies, whose beauty and elegance could made a whole hall shine...

Weren't these colorful descriptions only empty paraphrases, in order to be able to hide the cruel faces of reality?

But...

Who told of the blood of the innocent that dripped from the warrior's blade?

Who mentioned the lies the diplomat had spun to achieve his goals?

Who wrote about the wars the king instigated to expand his empire?

Who acknowledged that a lady's supposed beauty and family status was the only means to even have the prospect of a rosy future? And even this was not an indicator that her destiny would not be her downfall, because the rules were set by those who wielded the power and if she was unlucky, they were the ones who took advantage of it without thinking of her well-being.

Yes, even the carefully planned and detailed balls and parties, looked at first glance like dreamlike picture perfect background's. They blinded onlookers to what was behind the scenes, but those who lived in this world for long enough, knew that even these were literally only bloody battlefields disguised in beautiful shining robes. It's was a spectacle full of lies.

True love?

A spark of equality?

Boundless trust?

What most rare wonders they were in her hypocritical society and yet (Y/N), young and unreserved, hoped to find them in spite of everything. What a blessed life she had led until now. She was lucky to be born into a wonderful family. Despite her status, its members were warm-hearted and free-spirited. But she knew that this was not the norm and was wise enough not to take her privileges for granted.

With a wildly beating heart, she stood next to her mother and waited for her call to finally be presented before the Emperor and his guests as a marriageable debutante. Normally, the Empress would review the new young ladies year after year, but she had passed away in her own childbed some time ago, and so the Emperor, bless his suprisingly kind soul, took over this task, with a nostalgic smile on his fragile face.

In the midst of the whole crowd of young ladies and their mothers, (Y/N) stood and called herself to patience while she tried to fade out her competition as best she could. Some of her fellow competitors she knew personally, but only a few she had a closer, more sympathetic relationship with. Somewhere at the other end of the waiting area she had spotted Miss Uraraka with her mother. But unfortunately they had only been able to give each other a fleeting smile before she was already called. Ochako was one of her few childhood friends, but she too was unfortunately on the hunt for a good match and was now in some ways as much her competitor as all the rest of the unmarried girls. So all (Y/N) could do was to hope that this season wouldn't drive a wedge between them and at least one of them would get hitched safely.

However, no matter how much she would like to think about her friendships at this moment, the young girl had to use what little time she had left to mentally prepare herself for her own appearance. Breathing deeply through her chest, the budding debutante stretched her back while pulling her shoulders taut. The stiff, floral-embroidered obi was cinched very tightly around her waist, making breathing a little more difficult, but not as impossible as it seemed with some of the other ladies. Testing, (Y/N) tried to put on a charming smile as she interlaced her fingers in front of her body in a demure pose before turning her frame with trembling lips to her mother, who was already looking at her with affection. "I hope I can bring honor to our family today!" the young girl spoke softly as she gazed hopefully into the green eyes of her counterpart. Lady Midoriya regarded her daughter with a moved expression, raising her well-groomed hands to fix the blooming magnolia blossoms she had personally placed in the elaborate hairstyle that morning for one last time. Satisfied with her work, she let her fingers glide gently down over (Y/N)'s ears, only to finally cup the young girl's cheeks in a delicate manner. "You already do, my child! And I know you will continue to do so!" the older lady replied confidently, while placing her slightly wrinkled, yet still delicate fingers under (Y/N)'s chin to lift it decisively. "You are beautiful, intelligent and kind-hearted! You have inherited your father's strong will! He would be as proud as I am to see you like this. Just like your brother, you put all your passion into your tasks and diligently learn what is expected of you. You, my child, will be able to go your way and overcome any stumbling block. I am incredibly sure of that!" Lady Midoriya added emotionaly before she cleared her throat softly, hoping to catch herself again. Tears glistened in her eyes like raindrops on an evergreen branch. The words of her mother gave (Y/N) the necessary strength to suppress the slight trembling of her lips. Slowly but surely, the nervous lump that had spread in her throat dissolved and disappeared along with her fear.

Yes, her mother was right! (Y/N) had inherited the will of her father and had prepared herself in the best possible way for exactly this moment. She would face the emperor fearlessly and make her family proud. On this day and on each still coming!

"Lady Midoriya. It is now your and your daughter's turn!" the stiff voice of the herald's assistant rang out, snapping them out of their brief emotional moment. Nodding, (Y/N)'s mother started to move and placed herself with perfectly executed etiquette in front of the closed red and golden double doors that would lead them into the throne room. The remaining debutantes and their mothers, who were waiting for their momentto come, gave them appraising looks, but (Y/N) tried to ignore them as much as possible. Each of them knew how privileged the youngest Midoriya was, her own brother being one of the three former students of the current emperor. But she would shine today because of her own abilities. Today she would not stand in the shadow of her talented, kind-hearted brother. Taking a deep breath, the young girl followed her mother and positioned herself half a step in front of her while she waited with galloping heartbeat for the herald's introduction.

This was it...

This was the moment on which everything depended. All eyes would be on her to determine her own worth. As soon as those doors opened, she would take the first step to be able to grab a good match for herself. It would be one of the most important steps that would determine the rest of her life and she could not help but dare once again to let hope for a good future arise in her. Conscious of her duty, (Y/N) lowered herself onto the pillow and took in a bowing posture. With her head bowed and fingertips touching, which hovered in a rehearsed posture stretched out in front of her just a few millimeters above the ground, she took one last look at her beloved mother. Making the final decision to take Lady Midoriya as her role model, (Y/N) set herself for the very last time the goal not only to achieve an excellent match and honor for her family, but also to fight for the oh-so-rare love that only a few were truly allowed to experience. Even if her future could not be determined by herself, she did not want to leave her entire destiny solely in the hands of the gods, for only those who proved virtuous and courageous would be truly heard by those same deity's. She had prayed and pleaded that she would be able to feel for her future groom as her mother once did for her beloved husband, but to achieve this she would have to fight in her own way.

"Your Majesty, honored guests, we now present Miss Midoriya (Y/N), younger sister of the head of the family and distinguished samurai of Shizuoka Province, Lord Midoriya Izuku, one of the three former disciples of the Symbol of Peace. His Imperial Highness, Toshinori-sama. The young lady is accompanied by her mother, Lady Midoriya Inko," the clear voice of the herald echoed through the hall, while the richly decorated double doors were pushed open as if in slow motion. As she had been taught, the introduced debutante slowly counted to three before elegantly rising from her bowing position, only to just as slowly lift her eyelids to cast an innocent glance around the hall. In a culture like hers, aesthetics and elegance were invaluable. They were taught to one from childhood. Like a graceful mask, she wore the delicate, demure garb of etiquette expected of a young girl of her station.

'Do not speak unless you are addressed personally.'

'It is better to be seen than heard.'

'A young girl's weapon is not her voice, but her manners and countenance.'

'Be a work of art that all the world wants to admire.'

Even though (Y/N) wanted to be independent in her deepest heart. Even if she would have loved to use her own voice not only to be seen but also to be heard, she knew that for that she needed a man who was kind enough to give her that very chance. Her gently, encouraging brother would not always be her guardian. In a society like hers, a woman alone was worth nothing. Her status was measured by that of her husband and only that man would be able to shape her further life. He alone would have the right to decide whether to lock her in a golden cage and let her wither away or to give her the wings she would need to continue to develop freely. So she had no choice but to be exactly what was expected of her if she wanted to attract as much attention as possible. The family name she carried could not be her only trump card. She had to portray the perfect, well-mannered bride. A girl that was worth fighting over. Beautiful and quiet. Attentive and discreet. Talented and elegant. For this reason, she had poured her heart and soul and perfectionism into this very charlatanry. She wanted freedom! She wanted to be able to hope! Hope that the seed her family had planted in her would be able to blossom! Hope to be able to attract the attention of a man who would be her blessing and not her downfall.

Without losing her balance, the young girl stood up, while with purposeful flowing gestures, she placed her hands hovering over each other under her chest. When at last the seat cushion was discreetly moved aside, the debutante stepped into the packed hall with shining, soft eyes, closely followed by her venerable mother. A slight implied smile, meant to exude modesty and delicacy, played around her lips as she resisted the need to look around the room.

Look at me. I am everything you have ever dreamed of.

Her gaze rested on the hem of the emperor's multi-layered robe without once losing her focus as she strode past his wealthy guests, who were spread out on either side of the hall and focused their full attention on (Y/N). The young girl knew that somewhere in that crowd was her big brother, Midoriya Izuku, watching her intently just like all the others. By the gods, she hoped that he felt pure pride for his sister, just like their mother. He was probably even more nervous than she was at that moment. Perhaps he was even quietly whispering push prayers into his non-existent beard to give his sister all the blessings in the world. No matter. This thought alone warmed the debutante's heart as she took one step after another toward the emperor until she finally came to a stop in front of him. Without lifting her eyes, (Y/N) curtsied as deeply as her legs would allow and then waited with bated breath for the crown's reaction.

Silence reigned in the hall, so pervasive that one could have heard a pin drop on the floor. Like a mantra, the words, Look at me, I bring honor to my family, echoed in the mind of the youngest Midoriya. The sudden clap of the emperor, which echoed through the room like lashes of a whip, almost made (Y/N) wince, but she had managed to pull herself together. Calmly, the young girl waited while she made sure to take deep breaths through her chest so as not to fall prey to dizziness. Out of the corner of her eye, she could observe the emperor nodding warmly in the direction of his guests. "As one would expect, my student's little sister is shining brightly!", Toshinori's voice loudly and warmly pierced the silence of the room.

"This my honored guests, I call a truly sparkling diamond."

[xiyao-feels]

Part Three: Claims about JGY

Intro - Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4

JGY

1) JGY has the authority to teach NHS the SoC

He does teach him, and there's no suggestion from anyone involved that he didn't.

In MDZS, the SoC is explicitly one of the Lan's exclusive teachings, and NMJ objects to LXC teaching it to JGY on those grounds; LXC's response to this includes the fact that it can't be leaking it since JGY is their sworn brother, a consideration which would not extend to NHS. I'm not saying that LXC would necessarily deny NHS the chance to learn it (if he were in fact capable of playing it; it's noted as very difficult), but there is no way that JGY has the authority to teach it to NHS without LXC's permission. Nor does NHS seem to be making any efforts to hide what he's playing (in front of both NMJ and some of the Nie men JGY was just playing in front of), so it doesn't seem as though JGY was playing on that to get NHS to keep in a secret. I grant you the plan is stupid enough as it is, but if he'd obtained permission from LXC to teach NHS that would elevate it to new heights of idiocy.

In CQL, the guqin conversation is missing a great deal of what we see in MDZS, and that includes the exchange about it being a Lan exclusive teaching. Nevertheless, we're not given any reason to suppose it's not—and all later discussion of it pretty much follows on MDZS, where it is.

2) JGY involves NHS in his killing of NMJ

He teaches him the corrupted SoC. Now, as in part one, I think MDZS canon suggests this would result in NHS actually helping NMJ, but that's clearly not what the movie is going for.

In MDZS, JGY consistently defends NHS from and to NMJ, as you've seen in some of the quotes in the previous sections. Moreover, after NHS burns his hands when NMJ burns NHS' things, he's the one who orders medicine prepared and comforts him, advises him to go back to his room and rest, and tries to keep him from provoking NMJ; and then, after NHS has run off and locked himself in his room, refusing to open it to anyone to allow them to deliver the medicine, and while NMJ is still furious about NHS' defiance, accepts the medicine and plans to take it to NHS' rooms after he's finished with NMJ (ch 49-50). He does not involve NHS in his plan to kill NMJ.

In CQL, again, we see rather fewer of JGY and NHS' interactions during this time period—which doesn't mean that they don't happen, just that we don't see it. Again, when CQL doesn't say something, I tend to assume it matches MDZS unless I have a specific reason to believe otherwise—CQL kind of relies on this, in fact, otherwise you have questions like "wait what the heck was JGY trying to dig up in the temple". Regardless of whether you agree with that argument, JGY does hold NHS back and prevent him from running towards a qi-deviating NMJ. Although I've seen it interpreted as cruel, he likely prevents NHS from getting himself killed or injured (as happens in MDZS, where NMJ wounds NHS (ch 50)). And this is of course not strictly part of the text, but I'll observe that ZZJ has said that he thinks JGY would regret allowing NHS to witness NMJ's qi-deviation. There is, regardless, no evidence in CQL that JGY used NHS in his plan to kill NMJ.

3) JGY can straightforwardly prevent NMJ's violence via the SoC

We see him do this when NMJ is about to punch NHS; he's obviously hurrying a little, but the SoC works clearly and quickly.

In both MDZS and CQL, he shows no sign of an ability to do this. Instead he just has to deal with NMJ attacking him. When he can prevent NMJ's violence towards him, it's literally just that he manages to talk him down; JGY is, in fact, incredibly vulnerable to NMJ's violence.

We see more of NMJ targeting JGY in MDZS (see next point), but in neither MDZS nor CQL does JGY show any sign of being able to stop NMJ's violence by playing a few quick measures.

Granted, this is mostly a replay about the SoC being able to stop NMJ's violence quickly even when used by someone with weak cultivation. But it's a very important point.

4) Someone other than JGY is the main target of NMJ's violence.

This isn't an explicit claim, but while NMJ is violent on more than one occasion, at no point is JGY his target, nor (from what I can tell) is it suggested he usually is. Rather, NHS and the Nie men are made to stand out as NMJ's victims.

In MDZS, JGY is absolutely the main target of NMJ's violence;* although he does burn NHS' things, leading to NHS' hands being burnt when he tries to save them, and later injures various people (including NHS!) when he qi-deviates, he does this latter /because he is hallucinating they are JGY/. He calls JGY out at the stairs and /publically/—in front of various Jin disciples!—and not only humiliates him but also kicks him down the stairs then draws his sabre on him with intent to kill him (all this after trying to hit him very first thing after they go outside). Earlier, of course, we see him try to kill MY after MY has just killed WRH and saved his life, and his final qi-deviation is immediately preceded by him kicking open a door to slaughter JGY on the spot for the crime of being upset to LXC about how NMJ treats him…ostensibly combined with him being polite and friendly to NMJ's face, but the last time JGY was anything but, NMJ tried to kill him, and indeed LXC is advising JGY against "provok[ing]" NMJ "again," presumably by talking back to him as he did at the stairs (ch 50).

In ch 118—before the stairs incident, and I think it must have been before the Chang clan are killed too—XY asks if JGY's bruise is from NMJ. Although in fact it is not (and observe JGY's response: “If he were the one who did it, do you think I could still be standing here and talking to you?”), the possibility of NMJ's violence towards JGY is clearly present. In ch 32, when WWX sees some kids playing, although we're told that LFZ is the most popular character and although the text is replete with indications that at this point in time he is both powerful and well-respected, there is /still/ the general knowledge that NMJ is going to threaten JGY and JGY is going to flee:

“Nie MingJue” raised swung his fist, “So what if you’re the Chief Cultivator. You’re still my youngest brother. You’ll have to run away whenever you see me anyways.”

“Jin GuangYao” did indeed cooperate and maintain his character. Flinching his shoulders, he quickly ran away.

See also WWX's comment in the first Empathy chapter, when he's surprised at watching NMJ and MY get along: 'Wei WuXian had heard too much of those jokes of how “LianFang-Zun fled whenever he heard that ChiFeng-Zun arrived”.'

We're even told that the brotherhood oath they swore was unusually violent!

NMJ's determination to kill JGY lasts even into his own death—that's /why/ JGY dismembers him and sets such strong seals on him, so that NMJ's fierce corpse won't kill him. NMJ's violence towards JGY is a central part of both of their narratives, and shows up all throughout the text.

*Well, NMJ is also very pro-Wen-killing, but on an individual level.

In CQL this is a little more complicated. NMJ seems perhaps generally less violent? Certainly we are shown less of his violence, and in e.g. the confrontation in Sun Palace he is not constantly attempting to get to JGY while LXC blocks his blows and explains things. In episode 36, although we still see the children playing, the exchange is a little modified; we're still told JGY is scared of NMJ, but the NMJ kid doesn't raise a fist or anything like that, and the JGY child doesn't run away. Nevertheless, NMJ is clearly hostile to JGY, and his violence at the stairs is the same: attempting to hit him the moment they arrive outside, kicking him down the stairs, and then drawing his sabre on him to try and kill him. The difference is that in CQL, JGY survives because NMJ qi-deviates, whereas in MDZS he would likely have died had LXC not intervened. The emphasis on NMJ's violence towards JGY is much less present in CQL; nevertheless, JGY is still the primary target of what violence we do see.

5) JGY is easily replaceable, indeed at all replaceable, as a subordinate

FJ does not explicitly say this, but NZH seems to be very well-integrated and to have been there a while, and there's no suggestion he is in any way less than a perfect subordinate, or that JGY was better. As though to emphasize this, we see him dive in front of NMJ to take a blow (as with MY in CQL)—and, of course, he has the good grace to die when NMJ tries to kill him. One of the rather underspecified Nie cultivators also flings himself in front of NMJ, taking a blow to save his life (although, to be entirely fair, willingness to take a blow for NMJ is probably the way in which MY /is/ most easily replaceable).

In MDZS, MY's competence as NMJ's subordinate, and indeed the extraordinary level of his competence, are fundamental to his and NMJ's relationship. Consider these quotes from ch. 49:

After he left, Nie MingJue switched to another deputy. Wei WuXian, however, felt that the new one was always a few beats slower. Meng Yao was an unusually clever talent. He could understand what wasn’t said, and perform to the best with the simplest orders. He was efficient and never slacked. Anyone used to him wouldn’t be able to refrain from comparing him with others.

and

Nie MingJue was never close to people. He rarely opened up to anyone. Though he finally managed to obtain a competent, trustworthy subordinate, whose character and capabilities he approved, he found that the subordinate’s true colors were nothing like what he had thought they were. It was only natural that his reaction was so extreme.

Moreover, it's WWX's conclusion in ch 49 that part of the reason NMJ agrees to swear brotherhood with JGY is JGY's extraordinary talent:

From [WWX's] observations, aside from how Lan XiChen brought it up, having always hoped that the two would reconcile, the most important factor was probably the gratitude of saving his life and writing the letters. To be precise, in his past battles, he had more-or-less depended on the information that Meng Yao sent over through Lan XiChen. He still thought that Jin GuangYao was a talented person whom one would rarely come upon, and intended on leading him back onto the right path. However, Jin GuangYao wasn’t his subordinate anymore. Only after they became sworn brothers would he have the status and the position to urge Jin GuangYao, like how he disciplined his younger brother, Nie HuaiSang.

This is also part of LXC's attempt to reassure JGY that NMJ has not entirely turned against him, in ch 50:

Lan XiChen, “He has always cherished your talent, hoping that you would choose the right path.

JGY's extraordinary competence is very much central to their relationship, and the /fact/ that he has to be so extraordinarily competent to achieve any recognition is central to the themes of the text.

In CQL, again, this is less explicit. However, in episode 10 NHS praises him and WWX and JC are impressed by his talent; the captain, the only other high-up Nie man we get an individual sense of, seems rather less impressive. Moreover, at the stairs, when confronting JGY about XY's imprisonment, NMJ says what did I tell you back in Qinghe (about wanting XY dead), i.e. when JGY was his servant, suggesting he still views JGY in the framework of that relationship and at least possibly suggesting that he still misses JGY in that position.

In the interests of justice I will also bring up the important claims about the characters I noticed that /do/ have significant textual support: first, that NMJ is very good at fighting; second, that NHS and NMJ are each other's most important people. (It technically also gets that NHS hates practicing the sabre, but given the way it contextualizes this I'm not giving them any points for that one.) FJ also claims that lying to someone to keep them from knowing something that would hurt them is an expression of love—although in MDZS this goes rather the other way around, with NMJ keeping things from NHS, considered in isolation it does fit in with similar expressions of love in CQL/MDZS.

Now, I want to be clear, I'm not actually being as thorough as I possibly could. To do that, I would have to watch it multiple times and think things over for at /least/ a month, and even aside from the poor anon who's waiting on the answer to the question "what do they erase about NHS and JGY," I have absolutely no desire to spend that kind of time with the film.

Previous | Next

[im-the-punk-who]

Hi, I dont know if you read or know anything about Macchiavelli's "Il principe", but I am studying it in school and I cant help but compare it's fundamentals to how Flint leads. I'm just curious about what you think

Eekekekekekekekekekekkek okay so first off Anon, you are absolutely, 100% right to be getting those vibes. If it’s not actually textual it is at the least meta-textual that Flint ascribes to a very Machiavellian type of leadership. His whole ‘never was there a Caesar who couldn't sing the tune’ speech is...licherally a direct reference to Machiavelli's philosophy that leaders cannot retain their leadership without sacrificing some level of ethical behavior in order to manipulate and deceive their subjects into following them.

And, Flint owns at least two books from thinkers who drew directly on Machiavellian thinking in their texts: De Jure Belli Ac Pacis by Hugo Grotus and The Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes are both visible in Flint’s cabin, and both drew heavily on the type of leadership principles established in books like Il Principe. 

(Also, my eternal quest for the book that sits *under* The Leviathan in that scene remains. Y’all I will literally pay someone for this knowledge. My best guess is Plato’s De Republica.)

In fact, the whole system that Flint’s world was operating under at this time was very machiavellian in influence. 

Henry VIII, who converted to Protestantism and who would eventually lead England in the conversion from Catholicism to Protestantism that would then in turn eventually lead the country into the War of Spanish Succession(the war being fought during the London 1705 flashbacks), was a student of Machiavellian thinking. He took the teachings of Il Principe to heart and used them to transform his country. Over the next hundred and fifty years, England would change from an entirely Catholic country to a Protestant one. Of note, Catholic scholars generally disagreed with Machiavelli’s principles on the grounds that it did not support the Divine Right of Kings.

As well, the Enlightenment thinkers that influenced Thomas Hamilton(and Flint himself) were starting to argue more for personal liberty and choice of the governed, both concepts presented in Machiavelli’s writings. (For those following along, this approach was also being used to justify slavery, as what was ‘good for the state is good for the man’ was used as justification for everything from impressment to colonization and slavery. Men were willing to set aside their morals for what they justified as good for the state. Shrug emoji.)

As James says of England when he and Thomas view the hanging in London:

“You think Whitehall wants piracy to flourish in the Bahamas?”

“No I don’t think they want it but I think they’re aware of the cost associated with trying to fight it. And I think that that sound travels.”

Here we see that Flint knows what Thomas doesn’t or does not want to accept: that England is willing to sacrifice some morality and some amount of lives(both of pirate-prisoners and the ships they take) in order to save themselves the financial burden of rooting out the causes of piracy. The justification for piracy was that it is too costly to fight, and that the nation ultimately benefits from a bit of strife as it drives prices up and allows England to place within the sights of its citizenry an identifiable enemy. (Note that Blackbeard also argues the same of Nassau, that prosperity ‘made it soft’.)

Even as he is changed by Thomas’ line of thinking, this lesson will stick with Flint and we’ll see it over and over again as he deals with the men’s hatred of himself by redirecting them towards other avenues(Vane, Hornigold, England, etc.)

And in actuality, this is what sets Thomas very much apart from his political brethren - he was *not* willing to sacrifice his morals in order to achieve a ‘more effective’ victory. Once he realizes that moral deficit shown by England, he creates the pardon plan to argue directly for a more moral and just way of governance. His whole premise for the pardons was to show England that an approach that considered the needs and wants of the governed was ultimately more effective, both in cost and in gaining the genuine good will of the people. And again, this is another likely reason why Thomas was then targeted by Peter Ashe and his father. Railing against the entire system of government was dangerous. Particularly if one was railing against the government in a way that could be seen as support of an opposing system of religion and political rule(remember how I said before that Catholics were generally against the Machiavellian systems?) Put plainly, Thomas’ rejection of Machiavelli’s leadership tactics would have been yet another argument for his treason against the crown.

Interestingly also, Marcus Aurelius - Thomas Hamilton’s homeboy - is said to be one of Machiavelli’s five “good” emperors, of whom Machiavelli wrote,

“[they] had no need of praetorian cohorts, or of countless legions to guard them, but were defended by their own good lives, the good-will of their subjects, and the attachment of the Senate.”

How we tryna be.

And so we see that Flint has - not so much fallen back into England’s line of thinking but perhaps that he never really fell out of it. And that this is actually a rift in his potential ability to conform to Thomas’ line of thinking, assuming we see that line as more morally correct. We do see Flint, gradually, throughout the course of the show, move more away from this Machiavellian line of thinking, especially once he meets Madi and the Maroons.  And to me at least it’s one of the most important character shifts we see - in contrast to the trajectory of John Silver becoming Long John Silver  - throughout the series. Just as Flint is finally starting to really value the lives of those around him, Silver has learned how effective those tactics can be in achieving his goals. As Hands says - ‘I wonder if he knows how much you learned from him.’

And in fact, Silver almost directly quotes Machiavelli at one point when he talks to Flint about their different leadership styles.

“I once thought that to lead men in this world, to be liked was just as good as being feared, and that may very well be true. But to be both liked and feared all at once, is an entirely different state of being in which, I believe, at this moment, I exist alone.” 

Whereas Machiavelli in his chapters addressing cruelty and mercy writes

"Here a question arises: whether it is better to be loved than feared, or the reverse. The answer is, of course, that it would be best to be both loved and feared. But since the two rarely come together, anyone compelled to choose will find greater security in being feared than in being loved." 

This is clearly the approach Flint has taken - he is the most feared captain on the seas. Certainly in the colonial world and on Nassau, too, his name brings a certain amount of fear with it. Because of this he has been safe from rebellion for quite a long time - however he is also not unaware that his power comes from the people. In the very first episode he talks of his plan with Gates to “position people in all the right places so the crew would never turn.” He has, for an unknown amount of time but I would suspect from the very beginning, been manipulating the crew’s opinion of him to keep them happy. Gates himself, and Silver later, are prime examples. 

Both of them; Gates for the first ten years or so and Silver in seasons 2+3 act as a go between - being the ‘liked’ to Flint’s ‘feared’. They convince the crew - the ‘people’ in this case - that Flint’s plans are in their best interest and not truly the act of a tyrant. It is only when Flint forgets - or neglects to respect - that the will of his crew is how he keeps his power, that he really starts to fail. And, later also, that now he has a rival - Silver. 

Now, I do want to point out that personally I don’t think Flint is a needlessly cruel ‘ruler’ in the sense the crew sometimes thinks he is, nor is he trying to be as a king is to english subjects. He has power, of course, and he does manipulate, lie, and kill if necessary to maintain his power in accordance with Machiavelli’s principles, but he does not do so ruthlessly or to a degree that is unnecessarily violent, nor with only his own advancement in mind. His goals genuinely are in service of the people he leads, even if the tactics he uses sometimes put them in danger for it. Moreso, I would argue that Flint is a prince who created his own princedom. He took an existing power structure(the pirate council in Blackbeard, Hornigold etc) and took most of the power for himself, either through luck, violence, or political maneuvering. And then he kept it through skill and tactical advantage.

Silver, in contrast to Flint’s new princedom, is truly a ‘prince of the people’. He comes to power through convincing the other pirates that he has their interests at heart - even when he doesn’t. But Silver soon learns that being a well-loved leader is difficult. It isn’t until Silver kills Dufresne and Billy uses that fear to build a legend that ‘Long John Silver’ the pirate king comes into being. Silver learns, just as Flint knew, that in a world or corruption, often leaders need to make sacrifices of things they would have once deemed important. 

(I think it’s also important to note for Silver that his main goal is actually one Machiavelli writes of as being ‘a will of the people’. Silver’s main wish is not to rule, not really. His biggest motivator is ‘to be free’. To not have to make choices based on the will or subjugations of others. And so, he attempts to make the leadership forced upon him into something that frees him - unfortunately for him, Madi is right when she says that the ‘Crown is always a burden’ and it would be truly impossible for him to find the kind of freedom he wishes for while wearing it. Which, honestly, is part of why he ultimately fails in that regard as leader of the revolution.)

In the later seasons we see Flint go through this change in philosophy after he meets Madi and the Maroons. He begins to actually value the lives of the people he leads. When put to the choice of going through with the raid on the Underhill estate despite the risk it poses to the slaves on other plantations, Flint resists the idea. As he tells Madi - it would have cost them far more to ignore the ‘will’ of those people he hoped to lead - the slaves - than it would gain them to go through with the plan. And later, even though he can’t be blind to Max’s sway with Eleanor and the others, unlike Billy (and oh how the mighty have fallen, Mr. Bones!) he doesn’t even seem to consider keeping her rather than trading her for the lives of his other men. He no longer wants to trade a potential political victory for the suffering of those he leads. So, too, when he attempts to trade the cache for the fort, he is doing so with the goal being to not have to put those under his power in danger if there is another option. It is, at least to me, an incredibly moving character arc and one that is so very understated. 

And honestly, I think it’s what *needed* to happen before he could move on from his rage-hate bender and begin to find the sort of peace that one might argue those ‘good’ rulers had. Machiavelli’s principles tend to get in the way of your ability to connect with other people: when you see them just as pawns in a game, friends and foes lose their intrinsic value of just being important on an emotional level. It is only through learning to truly value his partners that Flint can learn how to be a better and more just leader.

Also, this passage in chapter 15 absolutely KILLS me in regards to both Flint, and Thomas Hamilton:

“Men have imagined republics and principalities that never really existed at all. Yet the way men live is so far removed from the way they ought to live that anyone who abandons what is for what should be pursues his downfall rather than his preservation; for a man who strives after goodness in all his acts is sure to come to ruin, since there are so many men who are not good.”

Like bitch!! We get it!! Too much sanity!!! Shut up!!!!!

Anyway, all this to say that you’re absolutely right in seeing parallels between Flint’s style of leadership and a Machiavellian prince - he is absolutely written as a prince-like leader. As are Silver, Rogers, even the Maroon Queen(and Scott and Madi as extensions of her) can be compared to certain rulers in Machiavelli’s archetypes. Even Thomas, who models himself after one of those ‘good emperors’ engenders a type of political leader Machiavelli writes about.

(Also lastly, i want to very quickly point out this guy, Cesare Borgia:

Who was a prince of ‘fortune’ who lost his princedom to trusting the wrong person. What a beard, amirite? What a face. He’s even got the rings! I’m sure this means nothing.)

So basically yeah, Flint is absolutely a Machiavelli bitch. 

[yukippe]

with one glimpse

this is inspired by and for @silima bc i saw her reychel art yesterday and went oh!! ao3

reyna meets rachel at the worst possible time. 

she’s losing her influence over the people that she’s done her best to hold onto at the seams for years. her sister has dealt with coups before, but there is something to be said about being a twenty two year old queen who has never had her authority truly questioned before versus a sixteen year old praetor on her second year of her term that has constantly been filled with thinly veiled insults and redirections to the opinions of her male counterparts. 

she is the only one willing to see rachel elizabeth dare, oracle of camp halfblood and her companion grover underwood, the apparent new lord of the wild. she does it because she knows that something is wrong. the greeks may have attacked camp jupiter, but it never felt right. 

reyna meets rachel at the worst possible time. rachel leaves an impression, of course, she is a legitimate oracle and all reyna has known when it comes to fate and prophecy is whatever octavian does with the teddy bears he cuts up. and, well. rachel is also someone that likely leaves an impression everywhere she goes. her bright red hair and paint stained jeans and nails with chipped, multicoloured polish make a clear picture in reyna’s head. if things had been different rachel wouldn’t have been able to leave reyna’s thoughts. 

but, it is a war and reyna is trying desperately to hold everything together when all the legion seems to want to do is follow the words of a power hungry augur who has never won a sparring match. and then the message rachel dare and grover underwood came to deliver sends reyna all the way to greece.

after everything, reyna knows no lost love for eros or venus, both deities having wreaked pain for her and nico. nico, however, reyna thinks is better than a godsend. 

seven months after the end of the giant war nico visits camp jupiter with the promise of setting her up on a blind date. 

at first reyna is skeptical. nico is a fourteen year old boy who spends every other weekend in the underworld and the rest of the time avoiding reyna’s questions about whether or not he’s going to high school. but, nico does have a very nice boyfriend and he claims that will has “an infinite supply” of lesbian friends her age. so reyna agrees to one blind date, on the condition that nico tours the campus of the high schools in new rome with her. percy likes to cut it on their iris messages to say things about how annabeth is going to have a high school set up in no time, but reyna always reminds him that not even new rome was built in a day.

the two of them are getting hot chocolate in reyna’s favourite cafe by the park with cherry trees that reyna likes to watch and keep track of the blooming patterns. nico is texting will under the table while reyna pretends to be interested in people watching the passerby on the other side of the window they’re seated by. a little girl spies reyna’s purple shirt and the golden laurel in her hair and waves, reyna winks at her. 

“ha, you spying new recruits?” nico asks, evidently finished making fun of whatever will sent him. 

reyna raises an eyebrow at him, “you were at the senate meeting where frank and i raised the age of voluntary service to sixteen. if she is interested in the legion, i will likely be long retired by the time she’s old enough to join.”

nico makes a face at her. reyna sticks her tongue out in return. most of the time she behaves better, but nico’s company makes her act like a child. could be the shared trauma, or the fact that they were both gay. nico’s phone buzzes again and saves reyna from embarrassing herself further in public. she looks over at the display of pastries at the front of the cafe and considers them carefully. hm. she walks over and orders a chocolate croissant for herself and an oatmeal raisin cookie for nico. his tastebuds are strange, but reyna’s learned better than to try and help him in months of their friendship. 

when she returns to their table she plucks his phone out of his hands and pockets it. she ignores his protests and grabby hands, “so. this blind date.”

nico retracts his hands and grins, she doesn’t trust it at all. “she’s going to be holding a blue hairbrush,” he pauses to snicker for no apparent reason. “and she’ll meet you at the library. she told me she’s going to pick a really weird statue to stand next to so you’ll have to make conversation while it’s staring down at you.”

reyna blinks at that. all the statues near the library are odd, so that won’t help very much. but the blue hairbrush should be enough to identify her. 

“what’s she like?” reyna asks. nico shrugs at her, so she pulls out the cookie she hid under a napkin and waves it at him. 

“she likes art and loud noise,” nico tells her as he reaches over the table and grabs the cookie from her hand. reyna lets him because she doesn’t feel like fighting him in the cafe for it. besides, by nico’s cagey standards that’s a decent amount of information.

she asks him if any of the friends he’s made at camp half blood would be interested in joining them on the tour they’re taking of high schools in new rome in a few weeks and he shoves his cookie into his mouth to avoid answering her. reyna lets him avoid her questions as she tries her croissant.

weeks later after a successful tour of colosseum high school with ten of camp half bloods young and at risk to monster attack teenagers, nico hands her a library book he forgot to return that she’s supposed to use for the girl he’s setting her up with to recognize her with.

“you’re going to get your library card revoked,” she tells him. “do you know how long it took me to get you one? you don’t even live in new rome yet.”

“i don’t like the sound of ‘yet’,” nico says. reyna bares her teeth as she smiles at him, but then she leaves him with his friends and a map to wander new rome for the rest of the day and makes her way over to the library. 

reyna has only been on a date that mattered once before. before the unsettling conversation she had with venus, she had tried to feel things for the boys who she knew she should like. no demigod will heal your heart. she is not thankful for venus, the goddess had been cruel and cruelty is not what reyna had needed when the goddess of love had pulled her away after reyna had risked everything on hope and her faith in her ability to survive. 

after the war, though, venus’s words had haunted her. reyna has never had time to think about attraction in depth, but piper’s reassurances that she might love a mortal or a god did not seem to be what venus had been alluding to. reyna has no interest in letting someone else heal her heart, and even less interest in any immortal figure. and. reyna had pieced it together with the help of her inability to tear her gaze away from piper’s beautiful brown eyes that fundamentally she couldn’t love a boy. 

she’d gone to lunch with a centurion who had a pretty singing voice and liked card games. it had been fun, but the other girl hadn’t really been able to separate reyna as herself and reyna as praetor. 

nico’s friend is from camp half blood and reyna has found since the giant war that she is very fond of the looseness of the greeks. she doesn’t like to jinx things, but reyna thinks today will be at least a day of fun. 

rachel elizabeth dare, oracle of camp half blood, is sitting at the feet of a particularly ugly statue of emperor constantine holding a blue hairbrush. reyna pauses in her tracks. a memory of the shape of rachel’s mouth as she said reyna’s full name the first time they met, months ago, plays in the back of reyna’s head. 

reyna met rachel at the worst possible time. nico’s given her a second chance. 

rachel is tormenting the pigeons near her when reyna walks up to her. rachel’s hair is cropped shorter than it was the last time reyna saw her. her nails are less chipped, and it looks like they’re painted in a rainbow pattern. 

“hello,” reyna says. she feels awkward, but she wants to try her best to be charming. everything about rachel is breathtaking. 

rachel looks up from the pigeons she was making faces at and sways. reyna reaches out to steady her. “are you okay?” reyna asks, concerned. 

“uh,” rachel laughs lightly and reyna wants to hear that sound many, many more times. “yeah! i’m find. nico didn’t seem to think to tell me it was you.”

reyna doesn’t quite understand why that made rachel swoon but she smiles at her, because she really wants to smile at rachel and it seems like it fits. “i tried to get nico to tell me who you were going to be, but he can be a bother when he wants to. i have to return a library book of his, but i’ll be right back.”

rachel grins back at her, “sounds good. hey, do you know who this unfortunate statue if of?” rachel points up at constantine and mimes a sick face. 

reyna can’t help but laugh, “yeah. emperor constantine.”

“wonder what he did to piss off the artist,” rachel muses. reyna laughs again and does her best to rush to return nico’s book without looking like she’s running to get back to rachel. 

when she returns she and rachel decide to walk though the park nearby and then go for something sweet after. rachel tells her she’s vegan and reyna plots a path in her head that will lead them to a gelato place. 

“so,” reyna says. “nico said you like art and loud noise?”

rachel blushes, it’s a little splotchy and it hides some of her freckles. reyna wants a picture of it. “uh yeah, i paint a lot and i think i’m going to apply to scad and some other more realistic schools.” she gestures to her denim shorts and reyna looks closer to see paint stains similar to the ones rachel wore when they first met.

“what do you like to paint?” reyna asks her. she wants to know everything rachel wants to tell her. 

rachel smiles at her and reyna can tell she asked the right question. as they walk rachel tells her about how they realized she was meant to be the oracle of delphi because she started to paint the future. now, rachel paints things to send a message or make people smile. reyna gets rachel to show her an oil painting she did of annabeth and thalia that percy commissioned her for for annabeth’s birthday. “he’s paying me in baked goods,” rachel tells her. “his mom’s blue chocolate chip cookies are better than ambrosia.”

reyna pauses her at that, “can you eat ambrosia?”

rachel winks at her, “no!”

rachel proceeds to ask her about her dogs, and reyna loves to talk about aurum and argentum. she’s telling rachel about how they like to steal her food even though they’re made of metal when rachel plucks a blue flower and tucks it into her braid. reyna trails off as she watches reyna, and her breath catches when rachel’s hand brushes against her jaw. 

rachel’s hand drops to her side and she meets reyna’s eyes. “reyna,” rachel asks, her eyes sparkling and her mouth quirking at the side. “this is a first date and all, but can i kiss you?”

reyna remembers how to breathe, somehow and nods. “yes,” reyna says, smiling. “i’d like that. i like you.”

rachel blushes again, and she places one hand gently on reyna’s cheek, and the other on rachel’s shoulder. reyna puts her hands on rachel’s waist and hooks a finger into one of rachel’s belt loops, she pulls rachel closer and she thinks rachel must be able to hear her heartbeat. 

gently, rachel presses her lips against hers and reyna sinks into the touch. reyna can’t think of anything else other than rachel. 

they break apart and reyna can feel a giant grin fill her face, it grows even more when she realizes rachel’s smile is just as big. rachel’s hands drop down and reyna lets go of rachel’s waist so she can hold rachel’s hand. 

“what’s your favourite flavour sorbet?” reyna asks her. 

rachel blinks, “hm?”

“we’re headed to a gelato place,” reyna says. she pulls rachel along the path. rachel laughs as they go and they talk about rachel’s strange taste in music and reyna’s guilty pleasure of badly made action movies. rachel’s hand is soft and reyna thinks the feeling of it against her skin is maybe the best thing ever.

[aion-rsa]

The Dark Knight Trilogy: Horrifying Scenes That Still Make Us Cringe

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Later this month, Zack Snyder’s Justice League is hitting HBO Max. Despite the anticipation and a near-guaranteed positive reception from the vocal #ReleaseTheSnyderCut fan contingent, this will likely be Snyder’s last foray in the DC Universe. Indeed, one of the studio’s chief complaints with Snyder’s vision, which they believe impacted box office receipts, was his darker tone when compared with the quippier MCU. However, Snyder’s approach only mirrored many of DC’s most popular storylines, from Frank Miller’s violent The Dark Knight Returns to the on-screen The Dark Knight Trilogy from director Christopher Nolan. Snyder can hardly be blamed for expanding on what audiences were already responding to when it came to DC characters on film.

Less than a decade ago, Warner Brothers was hot off of the success of Nolan’s trio of films that no one would describe as light-hearted or quippy. The Batman of Nolan’s films was not inspired by the kid-friendly or campy iterations of the character found in the Batman TV series from the ‘60s or Joel Schumacher’s films, but by Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s Batman: Year One, and Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale’s Batman: The Long Halloween. That is to say Nolan and Christian Bale’s Batman sought to be a street-level, gritty, interpretation of the character that emphasized noir and a grounded reality.

Snyder didn’t make Batman too dark for film audiences, that was already done by Nolan. Below are just a few examples of the darkest, most horrific moments from The Dark Knight Trilogy.

“Swear to me!” – Batman Begins

Audiences knew they were in for a different type of Batman from the moment they heard Bale’s gravelly voice while he was in the suit. Whether Bale goes too far with his growly tenor and into comedic territory is up for debate, but the choice is certainly memorable.

Bale really gets to rough up his vocal cords during a specific scene in Batman Begins where the Dark Knight confronts crooked cop Arnold Flass about Dr. Jonathan Crane’s mysterious drug shipments. After failing to strike fear in Flass, Batman hangs the portly man upside down from a building. When Flass swears to God that he doesn’t know anything, Batman replies, “Swear to me!” his face tremoring with rage. This is the opposite of one of George Clooney’s one-liners during his time under the cowl. Bale’s Batman establishes himself as something to be scared of and as an all-seeing force to be reckoned with.

The Demon Bat – Batman Begins

While horror has seeped its way into Batman comics many times, particularly during Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s recent run with the character, there hasn’t been a ton of nightmarish imagery present in the film adaptations of the character. However, the hands down scariest portrayal of the Caped Crusader on screen comes in Batman Begins. When Bruce Wayne said he wanted to strike fear in the hearts of criminals, this must have been what he was talking about.

In the climax of the film, when Cillian Murphy’s Scarecrow attempts to poison Gotham City’s water supply with his fear toxin, the good doctor is confronted by Batman and given a taste of his own medicine. The fear toxin takes effect and Crane begins to see Batman as a demonic, literal interpretation of the Batman, with black goo dripping from his mouth and jet-black eyes. This monster version of the Bat was certainly a step in the right direction for comic fans hoping the Batman films would get the terror element of the character right.

Bruce Attempts to Kill Joe Chill – Batman Begins

This scene from the first film in Nolan’s trilogy is the darkest because of how real it feels for the main characters. The moment happens not when Bruce Wayne is masquerading as a vigilante dressed as a bat, but when he’s a young man still trying to come to grips with the murder of his parents. Bruce learns that Joe Chill has been paroled so that he can testify against Gotham crime boss Carmine Falcone. Bruce waits outside of the courtroom with a gun, intending to kill Chill after his testimony. But when Chill arrives at the public lobby, one of Falcone’s goons beats Bruce to the punch, shooting Chill dead.

Bruce’s childhood friend Rachel Dawes discovers Bruce’s intentions and slaps him across the face. She berates Bruce and tells him that his father would be ashamed of him, something that undoubtedly must be hard to hear for the angry, grieving young Bruce. This moment serves as a sort of rock bottom for the character before he decides to leave Gotham behind and travel the globe, immersing himself in the criminal underworld, a journey that would inevitably lead to him becoming… the Batman.

Joker’s Pencil Trick – The Dark Knight

No one needs to spill more ink about how brilliant Heath Ledger’s portrayal of the Clown Prince of Crime, the Joker, was in The Dark Knight. It’s an iconic performance that has forever shaded the public’s perception of Batman’s greatest nemesis. He’s simultaneously funny and scary, brutal and sniveling, chaotic and cunning. He can make you smile then suddenly want to shield your eyes.

It’s all right there from his first real introduction in the film when he struts into a meeting between Gotham’s crime lords and offers his services in killing the Batman. Nailing the core components of the character, his penchant for showmanship, his violent tendencies, and his twisted sense of humor, the Joker pulls off a “magic trick” by slamming a gangster’s head through a pencil that was stuck upright on a desk. Not exactly the kind of party trick that you’ll see Ant-Man performing in the MCU!

The Death of Rachel Dawes – The Dark Knight

While the Joker hatches many unsettling schemes in The Dark Knight, like televising himself murdering Batman imposters, threatening to blow up hospitals, and the game theory ferry experiment, his most despicable crime is also his most personal one. After being taken into custody, the Joker reveals that he has set up a no-win trap for Batman, forcing him to choose between Rachel, his love, and Gotham’s White Knight, district attorney Harvey Dent. The Joker has them tied up in different locations, rigged to explode on the same timer, and Batman only has time to save one of them. Joker gives the hero their addresses, but in a cruel twist, switches who is where. Bruce believes that he’s saving Rachel but saves Harvey instead. Meanwhile, the GCPD tried to rescue Harvey, but arrives just in time to watch the building holding Rachel burst into flames.

While Rachel may have been an underserved character, only really used as a victim and love interest until her ultimate fridging, her death was still a shock and a dark turn that other superhero movies, barring the otherwise forgettable The Amazing Spider-Man 2, have always refused to make. Rachel served somewhat as Bruce’s moral compass, and her death left the vigilante adrift and prone to his darkest impulses.

The Transformation of Harvey Dent – The Dark Knight

The flipside to the above is that Batman’s last-minute rescue of Harvey Dent leaves him scarred, traumatized, angry, and fundamentally changed. It’s not just that Harvey loses half of his face and becomes a grotesque victim; it’s that the minute Rachel dies, all of his idealism and motivation to be a force for good and change dies with her. With one act, the Joker takes away the hero that Gotham really needs to end corruption and injustice.

It’s not just that Dent falls; he falls hard. He murders police officers (corrupt though they may be), kidnaps children, and introduces as much anarchy into Gotham as the Joker. Ultimately, he’s stopped by Batman, but his death and fall from grace is a demoralizing moment, and the decision to lie and prop up Dent as the hero he was rather than the monster he became is a necessary but deeply troubling withholding of the truth. Don’t let the triumphant score and imagery at the end of The Dark Knight fool you; this is a supremely downbeat ending.

Bane Breaks the Bat’s Back – The Dark Knight Rises

Batman is a badass who is rarely bested on screen. Even in Zack Snyder’s interpretation of the character, he’s able to subdue a figurative god in Superman. However, in Nolan’s third and final Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises, Batman finally meets his match, and it’s not pretty. After being lured into the sewers by Selina Kyle, Batman walks right into a trap and fight with Bane, the jacked terrorist who was excommunicated from the League of Shadows, and is every bit as badass as Batman. After eight years sitting on the shelf and a career of crime fighting that has left him battered, Batman is absolutely demolished by Bane, who pummels Bruce before finally picking the hero up over his head and snapping his back over his knee. Heroes occasionally lose on screen, but not like this.

Alfred’s Arc – The Dark Knight Rises

Alfred Pennyworth is a crucial character in the Batman mythos, and he’s typically portrayed as a compliant, if slightly disapproving, enabler. However, that’s not so in The Dark Knight Rises. Portrayed by Michael Caine, Alfred breaks hearts by revealing to Bruce that Rachel intended on marrying Harvey Dent and sternly telling his surrogate son that his war with Bane will eventually lead to his death and that he “won’t bury” another member of the Wayne family.

It’s one of the most emotional moments of the film. Alfred basically abandons Bruce, a decision that heightens Bruce’s isolation and hero’s journey. Alfred only returns toward the end of the film for Bruce’s funeral where he tearfully confesses to the late Waynes’ gravestones that he “failed” them. While Alfred’s story ends on a hopeful note, with him spotting Bruce alive and well in Italy, it’s still quite the breakup between Master Bruce and his most loyal advisor.

The Story of Talia al Ghul and Bane – The Dark Knight Rises

While the best villains typically have sympathetic backstories, few have as a traumatic and scarring one as The Dark Knight Rises’ villains, Talia al Ghul and Bane. Toward the end of the film, it’s revealed that Talia grew up in the same place that Bruce found himself in after Bane broke his back. Born in a primitive prison known as the Pit, Talia watched as her mother was assaulted and killed by the other prisoners. The pair were placed in the Pit in exchange for Ra’s al Ghul, with Talia’s mother agreeing to take his place in exchange for his freedom. Talia only survived through the protection of Bane, who eventually helps Talia escape the prison, but he’s badly beaten and disfigured in the process.

Following Talia’s escape, she locates her father and he returned with the League of Shadows to exact revenge on the prisoners that killed his wife and the men who put her there. Afterward, Ra’s and the League saw to the treatment of Bane, but were unable to stop the continual pain he experienced. Eventually, Bane is recruited into the League, wherein he is given a mask which supplies him with analgesic gas to curb the constant pain from the injuries he sustained while protecting Talia. If you thought Bruce had a traumatizing backstory, you must have merely adopted the dark.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post The Dark Knight Trilogy: Horrifying Scenes That Still Make Us Cringe appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3eLOTZN

[princeescaluswords]

A Line Too Far

Yesterday, I had a spirited discussion with some anti-Scott individuals, including a BNF.  One of the things that stuck in my mind in that exchange was how one of them, at least, viewed the Some of Us Are Human speech in Lies of Omission (5x09) as something good.  They tried to defend it by saying that Stiles was praising Scott, setting him up on a pedestal.  

And it mystifies me, because this speech is the primary reason I have serious problems with Stiles on a fundamental level.  I don’t hate the character, but he would never be my favorite simply because when dealing with people he’s supposed to love and care about, he had no boundaries. And I’m not just talking about breaking into their houses, listening in on their phone calls, reading their mail, and making decisions about their lives, I’m talking about when dealing with them in a relationship, there was simply no limit to what he would do to achieve his goals. This particular speech, in my opinion, embodies that, as it is frankly the cruelest speech I can remember one television character giving another television character that they’re supposed to love.  Let me reproduce it for you as reference:

Stiles: Scott? Where did you get that?

Scott: This is yours? Why didn't you tell me?

Stiles: I was going to.

Scott: No, but why didn't you tell me when it happened?

Stiles: I couldn't.

Scott: You killed him? You killed Donovan?

Stiles:  Well, he was going to kill my dad. Huh? Was I supposed to just let him?

Scott: You weren't supposed to do this. None of us are.

Stiles: You think I had a choice?

Scott: There's always a choice.

Stiles: Yeah, well, I can't do what you can, Scott. I know you wouldn't have done it. You probably would've just figured something out, right?

Scott: I'd try.

Stiles: Yeah, because you're Scott McCall! You're the True Alpha! Guess what? All of us can't be True Alphas. Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. Some of us are human!

That wasn’t praise; it was sarcasm, Stiles self-proclaimed ‘only defense.’  It wasn’t an acknowledgement that Scott was superior to him, it was an attempt to change the topic from Stiles’s behavior to Scott’s.   It was false, it was strategic, and it was cruel.  Under the jump, I’ll talk about exactly why.

The only way for me to possibly think of this speech as praise would be to extract it from all context and history.  It should be clear from what was happening during the scene that this was an attempt by Stiles to protect himself by attacking Scott in the most vicious way he could imagine – by attacking the basis of their friendship, by arguing that they simply weren’t equals anymore, and that he should be granted leeway because of it.  

While I think the setup was badly handled – in my opinion this scene would have been 20x better for the production and better for the character of Stiles if he had actually beat Donovan to death with a wrench during the attack -- the writing wasn’t awful, mostly because Stiles’s behavior was consistent from previous seaons.    He did something very similar with Lydia in Master Plan (2x12), when he shouted at a grieving girl, “See, that's the problem. You - you don't care about getting hurt. But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die, I will literally go out of my freakin' mind,” in order to change the topic from what she desired to what he did.  He did something very similar with Derek in The Overlooked (3x10), when he tried to make himself feel better at Derek’s expense, “Are you telling me what to do now? When your psychotic, mass murdering girlfriend... the second one you've dated, by the way...”  in the middle of a highly dangerous situation.   And finally, he did the exact same thing to his father in The Girl Who Knew Too Much (3x09) with “You just don’t believe.  Mom would have believed me.”   Stiles sacrificed this emotional link with his father – his mother’s death – to get his own way.  These are all previous attempts to use cruelty to control people he supposedly cares about.   Stiles lashing out at Scott can’t be seen as anything else but another instance of the same.

And this speech, to me, is extremely cruel, especially when you take the context of their friendship into account.   I can go through it line by line and explain the mechanism of its ruthlessness.

Yeah, because you're Scott McCall! You're the True Alpha.   This is not only cruel, it’s hypocritical.   Who was one of the people who pushed Scott into becoming a True Alpha?  Who said “Look, you have something, Scott. Okay? Whether you want it or not, you can do things that nobody else can do. So that means you don't have a choice anymore. It means you have to do something” to Scott?   This was after Stiles had literally tortured Scott for not doing the right thing.   It was a seminal moment.   For Stiles to turn on Scott after setting him on this path is simply disgusting.  It’s not being delivered as a compliment.  It’s being delivered as an accusation, especially when you see what comes next.

Guess what? All of us can't be True Alphas.  He shouts this at Scott and he knows damn well that Scott’s never demanded anything like that of Stiles before.  In Night School (1x07), in Venomous (2x05), in Battlefield (2x11), in Chaos Rising (3x05), in Silverfinger (3x17), Scott has always been aware of Stiles’s limitations.   I mean, there was this exchange in Battlefield (2x11):

Stiles: It's going to be bad, isn't it? I mean, like people screaming, running for their lives, blood, killing, maiming kind of bad?

Scott: Looks like it.

Stiles: Scott, the other night seeing my dad get hit over the head by Matt, you know, while I'm just lying there and I can't even move, it just - I want to help, you know, but I can't do the things that you can do. I can't –

Scott: It's okay.

Stiles knows that Scott doesn’t expect him to be a True Alpha or even a werewolf.  He never even offered Stiles the Bite until it was possibly the only thing to keep him from dying of frontotemporal dementia.  Scott never expected Stiles to be anything but what he was: a human being.  And expecting a human being to tell the truth and not to murder people isn’t outrageous behavior.

Some of us have to make mistakes.  This is a key line.  Stiles has been there for all of Scott’s mistakes as a werewolf and a leader.  He’s been critical of Scott for his mistakes, in Heart Monitor (1x06), in Formality (1x11), in Frenemy (2x06), in Alpha Pact (3x11), in The Divine Move (3x24), in The Benefactor (4x04), and in Parasomnia (5x02).  Stiles has never hesitated when pointing out when Scott has made a mistake and has often mocked him for it.  So this isn’t praise; it’s sarcasm.

Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes.  Again, Stiles knows this statement isn’t true.  He was there in Night School (1x07) when Scott confessed that he wanted to kill people, Stiles included.   He was there in Motel California (3x06) when Scott confessed “every time I try to fight back, someone gets hurt.”   He must have been told that Scott held a dying Allison in his arms after leading her into battle in Insatiable (3x23) and he was present when Aiden died trying to fight for his cause in The Divine Move (3x24).   Does anyone think that Stiles didn’t learn about the fight with the rogue hunters in Monstrous (4x10) or Berserker Scott stabbing Kira in Smoke & Mirrors (4x12)?  Or that Scott didn’t talk to him about his failure to save Lucas in Condition Terminal (5x04)? The idea that Scott has never gotten his hands bloody was untrue.  Stiles knew it was untrue, but Stiles was seeking to change the topic from Stiles’s actions to Scott’s beliefs.  

Some of us are human!  And this is the ultimate cruelty.  He knows that Scott’s been afraid of losing his humanity since the night he was bit, a night Stiles played a role in.  He’s been there for every dark moment in Season 1 and for the manifestation of that fear – the shadow alpha -- in Anchors (3x13) and More Bad Than Good (3x14). Does anyone believe that Stiles didn’t interrogate Scott about his dreams in Time of Death (4x08)?  Stiles – as he habitually has with Lydia and Derek and his father – homed into his best friend’s weakness and struck at it with tactical viciousness.  

This was the scene that made me realize my problem with Stiles would unfortunately, never go away. Some people talk about the dog bowl scene or the assault in the hospital and those are all instances of terrible behavior, but all characters make mistakes.  To me, the final line was crossed in this speech.   This wasn’t about Stiles ‘showing love.’  This wasn’t even really about Stiles defending himself.  This was about Stiles’ expectation that he had the right to cross any boundary and Scott would still be his friend, which mostly seemed to consist of Scott doing as he was told.   The line was crossed not just because Stiles said these things, but because all the characters’ response to him saying these things was … nothing.   The characters never mentioned it; the production never mentioned it.  This decision gave tacit approval to Stiles’s terrible behavior.   Oh, that’s just Stiles, the show was saying.  He gets like that when he’s upset.  

Yep.  That was just Stiles.  And that’s my problem.

[watchathon]

Book 1, Chapter 10: Jet

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used for this post, this is the Watch-a-Thon, a blog where I’m hoping to watch an episode of a show about every day, with a short blog post where I give my thoughts on what I’ve just seen. Each new point starts with a hyphen and a bolded first word.

- Like so. Now that the introductions are over with, here’s my thoughts on Jet.

- The opening with Momo getting caught by Fire Nation traps really helps to set up how awful the Fire Nation can be. I know, this is the tenth episode, but you have to keep in mind that there were a lot of kids back then who watched this show via reruns and, if this was their first episode, didn’t quite have that context beyond the intro.

- Sokka’s idea of walking instead of flying so they can evade the Fire Nation is pretty sound. Until you remember that they’re going all the way to the North Pole.

- Thing is, Sokka did kiss a girl, six episodes back. Or, well, it might be more fitting to say that a girl kissed him.

- “The important thing is that we’re safe from the Fire Nation.” Narrator: They were not safe from the Fire Nation.

- Jet’s got a pretty cool introduction. On your first viewing it’ll leave you thinking that he really is just a cool freedom fighter, battling the Fire Nation for the good of the citizens. 

- The scene introducing Jet also shows us Sokka getting jealous of how Jet’s taking down all the troops. This makes it all the more understandable that Aang and Katara will think he’s just jealous of Jet later. 

Not only is Sokka the type of person who would be jealous of a better warrior and leader than he is, he was also jealous of Jet specifically, just the other day.

- Jet’s carrying Katara up to his hideout (with romantic ambiance and everything) is another thing that makes him seem like a nice guy. Honestly, I’d imagine it’s at this point that a lot of viewers (save for very little kids) are starting to suspect that he’s too good to be true. But even then, it still helps to explain why 2/3 of the Gaang are so trusting of him. 

- Jet frames him and his freedom fighters as freeing the nearby Earth Kingdom town from the Fire Nation, which... could technically be true? From a certain point of view? It’s just, he’s also freeing it from the citizens who live there.

- The thing is, it really is an important mission that Jet needs Sokka for: keeping lookout for Fire Nation troops. It’s just that Jet crosses the line by also keeping lookout for anyone Fire Nation, even civilians.

- Sokka’s trick sticking his boomerang into a tree to amplify vibrations is pretty clever.

- It’s at the point where Jet assaults an old man that viewers who were suspicious of him get their suspicions confirmed, viewers who didn’t think twice about him get a real gut punch, and Sokka goes from being jealous to being distrusting.

- “[Sokka] went out on a scouting mission with Pipsqueak and Smellerbee.” Between this and the earlier lie about filling the water reservoir, you can tell that Jet knows Katara and Aang wouldn’t approve of his actions. But because he still needs their help to make his plans a reality, he lies to them and hopes they won’t find out until it’s too late to stop him, if they ever do find out.

- “Jet’s a great leader. We follow what he says, and things always turn out okay.” “If that’s how Jet leads, he’s got a lot to learn!” Now that’s character development, considering that at the start of this episode, Sokka declared himself the leader, and thought that because he was the leader, the others should just follow what he says without question.

- Heartbreaking to see Katara and Aang find out Jet’s true colors. Katara especially fell for his act, thinking that he was a hero until the moment Jet himself confirmed that he would destroy the town just to score a point against the Fire Nation.

- Then Jet fights Aang just to make sure that he can’t try anything to help prevent damage to the town. Sorry if this is just turning into a recap, but dang, Jet is messed up...

- Even more evidence that Jet is a monster comes when, thinking that he successfully destroyed a whole village and killed all its inhabitants, he just calmly says that because the Fire Nation is gone, it was a victory. And when Sokka comes along and says that the village was evacuated, Jet acts as if it’s a cruel twist of fate against him and his cause.

- Sokka might say (or imply) that it was his instincts telling him to go to the town instead of the dam, but if I might engage in a bit of theorizing, I think he was smart enough to know he probably couldn’t stop the dam from being broken, and instead he went to evacuate the town, which was much more likely to work.

- A nice Chekhov’s Gun comes in the form of the Old Man. Sokka tried to stop Jet from beating and robbing him, so he comes back to vouch for Sokka when he warns the town of Jet’s plan, especially since he was also a witness to how awful Jet could be.

- This was the Gaang’s first real encounter with someone who is ostensibly on their side, but who they fundamentally disagree with on methods. It’s also their (or at least Sokka’s) first encounter with a Fire Nation civilian who’s harmless.

You can tell from his reaction upon seeing it’s an old man that he’s not surprised by the concept, but it’s not the Gaang that I’m really concerned with; it’s the audience.

This is our first time seeing that it’s not just good guys against bad guys. Like a real life war, even if there is a side that’s just flat out “bad”, there’s also civilians who have nothing to do with the conflict, and people on the “good” side that can’t (or don’t want to) be bothered to note the difference.

Which, if you’ll excuse the change of topic, also makes this episode the best evidence against the idea that ATLA started out as a “typical kids’ show” and then got more mature with the later seasons. That maturity, that nuance, was always here.

[beloved-judged]

The long path of character

I preface this by saying that this is entirely my point of view and represents nothing more than my experience and understanding of what I have been taught.

My godfather (papa) has quite a bit to say on character, especially with regard to his lineage. The meat of it generally resolves to several ideas: first, that no real power can or should be granted to people whose character is flawed.

There are any number of ways to interpret that idea, but the way I see it most often in his discussions on the topic is essentially that we cannot perform works and leave ourselves behind. What you do and what you can do is a product of who you are. No part of you is omitted from the process.

If you have unresolved trauma, it will affect what you do, because it is a part of who you are. You will probably not mean it to affect what you do, and you probably won’t want it to be who you are, but it is and will. Your blind spots will reflect it. Your emotions will reflect it. Your decisions will reflect it.

If you are arrogant, if you are cruel, if you are filled with despair, what seeks to come through you will be tainted by those flaws. You will re-birth or re-embody those things in your work, and you will bend power to that purpose, to the extent that if you are a vessel of power, power will be unable to be held by you because of those unresolved issues. It will leak from you like water from a broken cup.

It is for that reason he says that the path of his lineage is long--there is no route to power that is not a route through building character. There is no route to power that does not encompass changing the self, because the self is so intimately caught up in what expresses power.

This is an old idea, one circulating through any number of paths ranging from alchemical to the more religious. You cannot produce what you cannot produce, what is not in you to produce, and what you produce will reflect what is in you to produce.

For the path I’m following, the lwa are in charge of that process. It is they who test, they who try, they who decide--and test, they will. Those tests take a variety of forms, but can generally be described as tests of character. Because of who the lwa are, those tests of character are deeply intimate. The lwa see into you, into who you are in your innermost self, and know what it will take to change your character.

I cannot know what it will take for anyone reading to reach these places, only what it has taken for me, and it suffices to say it has not been easy. The only way through for me has involved recognizing that I am insufficient to my goals, recognizing the various flaws I have thought immutable and cherished. It has not been small routine changes, but rather fundamental shifts in character, whose catalyst has never been something I chose, but whose resolution always involves a choice (mind you, not one with equally viable consequences.)

I am assured, by my papa, that the choice will reoccur under more and more painful circumstances until the flaw is resolved. I’ve resolved, to the best of my ability, not to hang on so that I will need them to keep bringing it up. I love no flaw, thus far, so much that I care to be beaten like a piece of metal in a smithy until it comes out of me.

We try, as he says, not to be in a position to have the balance against us. Sometimes, we cannot seem to help ourselves--we cling more than we should, or even more than we mean to, but I have to say: if you’re in a trial, my god, drop whatever it is at the first opportunity.

The second idea is that there exists a multitude of entities to be contacted--from the dead to the spirit--and that who you are affects what you contact. I suspect, though I do not know, that the lwa themselves have multiple faces, and that we see what is in us to see. If you were born with the capacity to speak to the lwa or the spirit, your capacity to do so is affected by who you are, but also what is expressed is affected by who you are. We can deceive ourselves and be deceived using the contents of our character, so it is very possible that we deceive ourselves with regard to what we contact, or if we contact anything at all.

If it is of your own volition, you will contact entities that reflect your issues--a face of the lwa that reflects your angst and despair, for that is all you can see. And for some, not a lwa at all, but a spirit masquerading as one for the sake of the power and prestige that comes from worship and offerings. And for some, a dead person pretending to be something they aren’t.

If it is of their volition, you may contact what they choose to contact you. Papa says he can tell what has contacted someone by what behavior they manifest over time and by the character of the spaces they inhabit: the lwa and the spirit tend to encourage and inspire much better standards of behavior in their children and to create a very different class of space than you’d find elsewhere.

He has quite a bit to say about what passes for ‘light-workers’ most places on that particular topic, a summary of which is that people whose behavior is filled with all sorts of flaws and issues they are clearly not working on are not typically in contact with what they think they are.

It goes without saying, but where there is the deliberate or passive attempt to run people off based on their skin color (especially where there is a deliberate attempt to chase black people out of their own spaces or religion), what is in those spaces is not ‘light’. He’s mentioned some issues concerning the refusal of people running spiritual events or places to permit black or brown people to participate, lead, or earn a living speaking about their own religion.

For my part, should I ever be in a position to be a paid speaker at that sort of event, the only way I would take the gig instead of referring them to my elders would be if the spirit specifically told me to do it, and even then I can’t imagine that happening any time soon. I have no particular claim to expertise.

The situation, the idea that one’s character has such a profound effect on the available outcomes, often strikes people as cruel to those who have already suffered enough damage--my only comment there, from experience, is that the lwa stand ready to transform us. What may not be able to be healed through the means of psychology may be healed by the lwa, so there is a path forward for anyone, given that they are willing to do what needs to be done.

The catch, however, is that they must be willing to do what needs to be done, and that is something people often find quite astoundingly difficult. We often don’t mean to cherish our issues, but we cling to them--as much as anything because we have learned to fear change and the motivation of anyone or anything that bids us change.

We fear it, but change is the law of the universe and we will bend, even if it breaks us. It does not, however, have to mean that all is lost. In fact, if there’s anything I have been learning, it’s that when I am ‘broken’  (distressed, afraid, fragile) by change in the process of the trials the lwa have set me, something far better emerges.

Not that any way I could describe that process would make it any less painful. They do have an often alarming intimacy to the way they understand us.

It’s a long road, all these things, and I intend to walk on. The alternative does not bear entertaining.

[breaking-from-grace]

I don't know what you're vagueposting about, but I think you should try to talk to the person. You can resolve these issues by getting closure or making peace, and either is going to be better than being eternally sad about what-ifs.

Hi Anon~ I thought this should be addressed, not because I like to air my dirty laundry or anything but to offer some insight. Vagueposting has the connotation that I’m seeking attention from someone or a group of people. This is not the case. I post things on my feed that resonate with me. Whether it be about what’s currently going on in my life, what I’ve been through or how i see the future.  It is why I keep my character blogs separate from this one. If anything, this blog is a representation on how I view the world and gives me a place to express myself. I can’t control how other people may perceive my posts, only that I am comfortable with how I feel I represent myself.

Truth of the matter is, it’s been a very hard year. I won’t go into details but I’ve had ups and downs and horizontal slides. I’ve loved and lost and learned much about myself. I have social anxiety. Long story short, attachment issues in my youth around my parents set me up for some humdingers in regards to my interactions with people. And lets not kid ourselves, the internet is not the kindest place for someone who constantly has a need to seek approval from their peers. Anonymity and distance can make even the kindest people cruel under certain circumstances. This anxiety has led to a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms that I’d learned to try and navigate it all. I would internalize all my concerns, carry my discomforts silently, and demean myself for having very natural human emotions surrounding rejection/jealousy/pain/abandonment. I began to tie my self worth to how others perceived me. This would all lead to explosive interactions when the burden became to much. Even though my concerns would be valid, I would not express them in manners that people could swallow easily. I went from being the friend who gave and gave and gave of themselves to the person who suddenly was problematic. It really was a vicious cycle. And considering that the internet has infinite possibilities for connection, a lot of times it’s easier to just break ties than get to the root of the problem. No one likes to get their hands dirty. No one likes being told that they have faults. Everyone likes everything to be clean and easy and without conflict.

At the base of my being, I’m someone who has a big heart. I care about everyone around me, even those I have hurt or been hurt by. I believe that love is more than romantic in nature and am not afraid to express it to those I hold dear. It’s just my nature. It is fundamentally who I am, despite what some might label me. A small part of me also posts the things I do because I’ve been told that I should not pretend to be what I’m not. Internalizing and trying to live up to this perfect idealism of what people want from me is exhausting. I have anxiety. I have panic attacks. I have attachment issues but being silent about those things does nothing but perpetuate the problem. So being open and transparent about this in a way is therapeutic. What you see is what you get. If you decide that it’s not something you’re interested in, then we both save ourselves the possibility of heartache. On the other hand, if you’re willing to work with me to foster friendship, there is a good foundation laid for clear boundaries and communication. And who knows, maybe there will be someone who sees my posts and it resonates with them. Makes them question how they view the world. Maybe it helps them feel connected or not alone. I have had people tell me that it makes them feel better knowing that someone else feels the same way about how they perceive things.

In regards to your advice, it is sound and appreciated. I wish things could always be so cut and dry but sometimes, life is just messy and complicated. Sometimes, no matter how much you want something, it’s just not going to happen. You’re never going to not have regrets in life. You’re never not going to have moments where you second guess yourself or the choices you make. The only thing you can do is try to live by your values and do your best. Sometimes you falter when things get tough. We’re not meant to carry the world on our shoulders but that’s why you surround yourself with people who are willing to take on some of the burdens when we stumble. We are better people when we react with kindness and understanding, practice compassion and embrace differences. It took me a long time to realize that even with my faults, I am good enough just the way I am. As long as you take one step forward in the hopes of bettering yourself, it doesn’t matter how long it takes.  I am sorry to everyone that I ever hurt just trying to cope or manage with my mental health and I know that won’t be enough for some. I just have to learn to live with that and keep going~

[bat-hotel]

Hi I Have A Hot Take (Rant-ish?)

So lately I've been saltposting about how disappointed I am with Fables as a source material. Like holy fuck. So after reading an analysis on Fables' Bigby Wolf as an unrepentant and cruel character seen as a cool power fantasy for the author, I have some words to say.

My guess is that Bill Willingham didn't learn the fundamental elementary rule that when your cause is for the good of others, it's more powerful and has more drive than just selfish desires and power trips.

A power fantasy, like a true power fantasy of an infallible god of a character is possible. And even likeable! An infallible godlike character actually doesn't even have to be a gary stu/mary sue. They just have to be fighting for the right reasons. They need to have humanizing moments that make them both relatable and a role model.

Power fantasies are exactly that: powerful! I have my own that I channel though an OC I have. A self insert with the means to be the powerful change I want to see in the world, an influence and a force all her own. She's me but with just, a couple extra things tacked on.

That's because I like who I am, and I don't have to be cruel to get the point across that I'd grab hold of the universe by its thin little reigns and move it with my own two hands if I could. I don't have to be disgusting to get the point across that I am powerful and I have allies that care about me enough that they fight alongside me for a common cause.

I like who I am, and I'm just bestowing myself with some self indulgent extras like a saccharine-sweet romance (a self insert ship with one of the female leads) and means to express my identity more freely than I can currently, as well as imbuing myself with the ability to reach into the world and see it change, even a little, because of me.

Willingham's desperately trying to compensate for his own shortcomings by making Fables Bigby an infallible no-bullshit badass, but he's just a prick, a psycho and worst of all a rapist. It's a sad attempt that reads more as "Am I cool yet??? Am I noxiously masculine enough???" than "I take no shit, don't get in my way.".

A bit of a bold take here, but, Willingham probably doesn't like himself.

He's under the impression that being mean-spirited, hardened, and taking whatever he wants is the way to look cool. To gain a mass of people who, along with you, say, "I want that to be me someday."

But it isn't.

Telltale's handling of The Wolf Among Us gave fans the image of a protagonist with dimension other than rugged cruelty. TWAU's Bigby Wolf is a full fledged badass, and in the widely accepted playthrough style of TWAU, he's trying his best to make amends. A person who can rise far above what they've done and set the bar high for their own behaviour is someone that people can immediately respect and find a powerful figure in.

On an adjacent matter, with the social change around us even in the era that Fables started and finished, it's clear that the route of vileness and apathy as a form of grandeur... isn't the way to go.

You need to be relatable. Be "human", even if your character isn't a mortal.

If you want a badass hero, them being a gritty perma-loner will never work. People thrive off of the emotional bonds characters can create with eachother.

If you want a badass, make them a protector. Make them someone who, infallible or not, will stop at nothing to fight for the people they love and the causes they champion.

Even if they start out a loner, a good story won't keep them like that forever.

Because we, as human beings, all just desire one thing in all truth.

No matter if we crave power or money or fame or sexual prowess or anything else. No matter if we're opposed to romance or sex or anything of the like, there's a reason why power fantasy characters rear their beautiful or ugly faces in the first place.

We just want to be loved.

And that's why Billy Willy fucked up bad Thankyou and goodnight.

[woman-loving]

some thoughts on femininity

I start off with a long quote, so the whole thing is going under a cut.

There is a scene in the film The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1, where the heroine’s mentor Effie Trinket is learning to adapt to her new life in the revolutionary compound of District 13. Previously an inhabitant of the wealthy Capitol area, Trinket has been forced to leave behind her old excessive style in favour of a grey jumpsuit, a uniform worn throughout the District. Cleaned of makeup and without her frilly dresses, Trinket retains only a set of bangles which she still wears and often touches wistfully. Her fellow District 13 comrades find Trinket’s attachment to these objects absurd, and she is met with derision. This response from her revolutionary companions calls to mind Germaine Greer’s assertion that “the women who dare not go outside without their fake eyelashes are in serious psychic trouble” (1970, 325). That Trinket’s affection for feminine accoutrements makes her the focus of ridicule illustrates an important conundrum. It begs the question: should we laugh and pity the Trinkets of the world “who dare not go outside” without their feminine accessories? Are Trinket’s bracelets symbolic manacles? Or should we sit awhile, and wonder why these attachments might remain in the face of strong suggestions from others that liberation can be found in throwing such objects away? This leads to the central question: how can we consider femininity in a way that best attends to people’s experiences of, and attachment to, feminine styles?

Looking to both popular and scholarly feminist commentary over history we see that feminine styles of the body are often not merely understood as the effect of an oppressive gender system, but rather are seen to perpetuate and maintain this system. So the dominant theory goes: if a woman fails to reject those bodily expectations of the gender regime, she is part of the problem. I do not wish to deny that there are norms and expectations that shape the way that we are expected to appear and present ourselves in the world. Indeed, at times this regime is a punishing one. Women are expected to put an enormous amount of energy and money into their appearance, in order to be understood as “respectable”, “beautiful”, and “sexy”. The effort required to produce feminine aesthetics is increasingly being discussed in terms of labour (Baker 2016, 52). Furthermore,successfully achieving various looks for different contexts is no easy task. To wholeheartedly celebrate the various aspects of appearance which often constitute what is recognised as “feminine” – including makeup, clothing, hairstyling, and so on – would be to deny the daily experiences of women who are compelled to conform to particular styles in both the private and the public sphere.

For these reasons, I do not wish to celebrate femininity as something that should be seen as necessarily empowering nor inherently “good”. However, I do seek to intervene in the idea that political transformation can or should be affected at the level of appearance and identity. That is to say, I argue that femininity is not necessarily disempowering, nor inherently “bad”. Those aspects of feminine styling that may for some people feel cruel or laboursome may at other times or for other people be a source of pleasure or, indeed, may be central to their sense of identity and belonging. [...]

That gender expectations are contextual and change over history and location also reveals that it is not the specific elements of what we designate as “feminine” in appearance that are innately problematic, but rather what is arduous is being compelled to conform to expectations. While women of one era might define long dresses as oppressive, another might see miniskirts in the same way depending on the specifics of the disciplinary regime at the time. Another clear example of this is currently the colour pink, which is discussed in some detail in chapter two : pink is not inherently bad, but functions today as a symbol of girlhood. While many reject pink for the gender normativity it represents, at times the debate gets mired in making pink the problem rather than seeing the real issue as the system that merely encourages the use of pink as a signifier. [...]

--Hannah McCann, Queering Femininity: Sexuality, Feminism, and the Politics of Presentation, 2018

This is an excerpt from the introduction of a book that I was looking through, just because I was hoping it would annoy me into writing something. I have a bit of a bias against using "femininity" as a category of analysis; I fear that people are going to use this concept imprecisely, leaving it vague and relying on unspoken, preexisting connections between femininity, womanhood, and female to suggest its meaning. However, I haven't actually read much theorization on femininity or femme-ness, so I don't know for sure what this book is going to argue; I read another theoretical article on femme just before this and it seemed to be going in some interesting directions (building off other queer and feminist theorizing). But still I want to share some of the thoughts and concerns I have going into this topic, acknowledging that other people may very well be saying the same sort of thing, and that this isn't original to me.

First of all, I want to give my own, very rough working explanation of "femininity" (or at least one angle of it), which would go something like this: femininity names the quality of womanliness, or the range of physical characteristics, styles, mannerisms, interests, work, etc that are imagined to be the natural expression of womanhood. In other words, "femininity" and womanhood are tied together through an essentialist logic, one which also locates womanhood and its expression (femininity) in "the female body." (I will use "the female body" here to indicate another construction.) The reference point for all this that I'm thinking about here is specifically Western European constructions of womanhood, femininity, and the female body, and how these are constructed through race, class, ability, sexuality, and other factors.

While we've come to speak about femininity as something independent from being woman or "female"--as that which has simply been "traditionally associated" with women--I think this is the logic behind that "association." To be feminine is to be "womanly." One concern I have with using "femininity" as a analytic category is that... so long as the reference point for understanding the meaning of "feminine" is an essentialist logic of womanhood, we risk carrying over this logic uncritically, and reproducing it even where we claim to have severed it off. How can we talk about both "womanliness" as an independent expression that can be found in people of any gender and also "women" as a group that can have a full range of possible expressions? 

Going back to my explanation of femininity and the broader gender logic of which its a part, another point that needs to be made is that... while ideal (meaning: white, middle-class, able-bodied, cis) women and womanliness are seen as fundamentally distinct from men and manliness, these categories are not as separate in this scheme as would appear. These values of male-man-manly and female-woman-womanly interpenetrate one another and can be quite mobile. Womanly characteristics can be found in a man; male traits identified on the female body. This mobility actually helps preserve the underlying essentialist logic. For example, we might understand a brave woman as expressing a manly characteristic, rather than questioning the notion that bravery is fundamentally male (and therefore an aberration in women) or that the real, essential man is brave. (This is touched on a little bit here, too.)

Moving on.

So, we have this introduction that starts out with considering the reception of Effie in The Hunger Games, and what Effie misses when she's in District 13, and what she's sneered at for being attached to, is identified as "femininity."

It's been a lot time since I read or watched The Hunger Games, but surely it would be accurate to say that what Effie is missing is a particular style, particular accouterments, a fashion; these are what the author here identifies as "femininity." And that's not wrong, exactly, but there are other ways of naming this. Lemme turn to a quote I saved from another book I read:

In spite of their differences in education, wealth, and social standing, most of the [Victorian] bourgeoisie resembled one another in dress, habits of speech, and deportment. Bourgeois men dressed somberly, in dark colors, avoiding any outward signs of luxury. Their clothing fit closely and lacked decoration—a symbolic adjustment to the machine age, in which elaborate dress hampered activity. It also reflected a conscious attempt to emphasize achievement-oriented attitudes, and new standards for what constituted honorable manhood. Through dress and other fashionable tastes, middle classes distinguished themselves from what they viewed as a decadent and effeminate nobility.

Bourgeois conventions regarding women’s dress were the opposite of men’s, further reinforcing gender distinctions—women’s clothing became the material symbol of male success. Extravagant amounts of colorful fabrics used to fashion huge, beribboned hoop dresses reflected the newfound wealth of the middle classes and confirmed their view of women as ornaments whose lives were to be limited to the home and made easier by servants.

--Western Civilization: Beyond Boundaries, Thomas F. X. Noble, et al., 6th ed., 2010

Ok, now this is where all my thoughts start to get scrambled together. Let's see in what order all my points will wind up.

So what appears to be happening here is the emergence of two fashion genres (to use a term from the previous femme article I read) within the white Victorian bourgeoisie. (Is that the same thing as middle class?) And these are shaped to express one of two sets of contradictory values held by the bourgeoisie. And while it's reasonable to assume that bourgeois women would also hold and reproduce these values, I expect that these social trends were largely shaped by white bourgeois men, and that both sets of values reflected their own interests. In other words, it's not that bourgeois men held one set of values and bourgeois women the other, and each were allowed to develop fashions as suited their own (singular) preferences. Rather, bourgeois men valued both somberness and display of wealth through luxury, and wished to express both, and resolved this contradiction by externalizing one of these value sets onto women. They were able to have their cake and eat it too: they could express esteemed middle-class values as a part of their manhood, while also getting the benefits of the values they decried: extravagance, excess, luxury, ornamentation--all foisted onto women, whose fashions were imagined as deriving from an essential womanly disposition that naturally gravitated to such qualities. I.e. women's femininity.

AND LEAST THAT'S HOW I'M READING THIS. I haven't looked into the development of these fashions beyond the quote from the book. So, if that's correct.

The use of The Hunger Games to illustrate the reception to women's attachment to "feminine" styles is odd, because the fashions of the Capitol must also be sharped by class values. Popular fashion in the Capitol appears to be characterized by exaggeration, excess, and flamboyance, a display of luxury which resonates with what the Capitol represents in the series.

HOWEVER. The Capitol does not seem to have markedly distinct genres of fashion for men and women. Let me qualify that. Just looking at these pictures, the few men who appear are less... excessive, but still notably flamboyant. (Two more examples.) It's been quite a while since I read the books or watched the movies, so I don't remember exactly how gender appeared to be constructed in the Capitol. But I'd posit that the difference in degree of excess between men and women here results from the fact that these fashions are built on the base of real-world fashions, where those for men and women have had different trajectories. Perhaps we could say, though, that the same basic concept lies behind all fashion in the Capitol, and imagine that the spirit behind Suzanne Collins' vision of the Capitol might be more "ideally" represented by a world where the forms of Capitol fashion were not gender-specific.

In that case, extravagant fashion is not specifically womanly. It might make more sense to speak of Effie not as missing the accouterments of "femininity," but more specifically the accouterments of a fashion characterized by exaggeration, excessive ornamentation, or however we might describe it. These fashions might be intimately tied to her identity and sense of embodiment, without primarily being understood as an expression of a uniquely womanly quality. Where, then, does the concept of "femininity" fit into it?

Moving on from The Hunger Games, the suggestion I'd like to make is that, rather than using a vague notion of "femininity," we attempt to be more precise in naming the contents of "femininity." By utilizing categories like "extravagance" or "flamboyance" (or perhaps other, better terms), we can uproot the characteristics that make up "femininity" from their presumed location in womanly nature. We can connect them as well to “manly” expressions of these same qualities, and perhaps note a range of similarities and differences in how they are socially received depending on the gender, race, class, etc of the subject in which they appear. This is not to say that we should ignore how certain things are gendered, or how people do in fact adopt certain styles as a way to express or embody their gender. This can/should still be part of the analysis. But expanding the repertoire of categories used to name what we mean by "femininity" might help us avoid over-determining the significance of gender, which can be a pitfall when the subjects under consideration are viewed as markedly gendered. (I complained about an example of this.)

(I suppose I'm basically describing a method of analysis that evacuates the category of femininity. I remember once, in a discussion of Buddhism, the concept of non-self (anatta) was illustrated by saying "a flower is made up entirely of non-flower parts." In this case, "femininity" or womanliness is made up entirely non-woman(ly) parts. So what are those parts?)

I also want to comment on something McCann said in the last paragraph of that first quote. She said that the elements designated as "feminine" are not innately problematic, but become so when they are compelled to be adopted. I’d agree that it’s a problem when these elements are compulsory (especially if they tend to require greater time, labor, expense, and self-monitoring to embody). However, the contents of "femininity" may in fact be problematic within the social context in which they are developed. Returning to that second quote, the ornateness of bourgeois women's fashion was problematic in its own right because it contradicted another, more centrally affirmed set of bourgeois values.

Now, I'm not sure what is the best way to name the characteristics that are identified as "feminine," but one common complaint against certain "feminine" clothing or processes is that they are impractical and unnecessary. And when women specifically are compelled to adopt styles that are impractical for a wider range of situations, it makes sense to complain about that. However, what may be needed to defuse tensions around "femininity" is not just a rethinking of the meaning or value of womanhood (e.g. what women "should" look like), but also a rethinking of the value of “impracticality.” A rethinking of forms of expression (and the labor they entail) that serve no purpose other than meeting an aesthetic or bodily goal, one which may be attained at the expense of practicality, efficiency, or frugality.

At the same time, even here we can't look at this question outside the interlocking context of sexism, misogyny, racism, classism, et al, since these determine which forms of expression that might in fact be impractical (toward a certain goal) actually get identified as impractical or unnecessary. It just goes to show how multiple approaches are needed, since these phenomena are complex.

Fin.

[codicesandflora]

hellsingmongrel replied to your post “I just realized something… Maybe God has acknowledged that Crowley is...”

Honestly, my headcanon is that God knew she would need them together, fighting against their opposing sides in the end, so Crowley didn't particularly Fall, he was PUSHED. On a personal level, it seems cruel, but she knew he and Aziraphale would be happy together, in the end, and Crowley's suffering would mean that the rest of the world could saved from the Armageddon. In the end, it was the kindest option for everyone, Crowley included, even if he doesn't know it.

This leads into something I’ve been thinking a lot about: the question of free will of the characters versus everything being according to God’s “Ineffable Plan”.

Personally, I think another word I’d use to describe God’s plan aside from “ineffable” is “fluid”. It’s not static. It changes with each action, each decision, and each outcome.

And yes, this is still compatible with Free Will. There does seem to be this pattern of God setting up the choices and then people making them. Then God adjusts Her plans accordingly which leads to the next set of choices. There’s contingency after contingency set aside for every possible permutation of decisions made due to free will. Thus, it truly is an ineffable plan because of the sheer complexity involved with having a plan that is both dynamic and goal-oriented. 

In that sense, Aziraphale was right. There has to be choices, that is at the core of the Ineffable Plan and is the intent behind God’s directives. He was mistaken, however, in thinking that this plan only applied to humans....

Because, I think God extended Free Will to Her servants in Heaven as well. Some of them used their Free Will to focus on obedience and strict adherence to God’s commands (in the letter of them if not in the spirit) and would include people like Gabriel, Uriel, Michael, etc. Others decided that their own will gave them the right to decide what is moral and “good” without anyone else’s input which is why Lucifer, Beelzebub, Hastur and their lot decided to stage a rebellion on Heaven (and ended up Falling).

Then you have Aziraphale and Crowley. Two people who demonstrate that God didn’t have a straightforward plan for all of Her celestial children.

My thought is that Crowley should be considered a bit of the classic Unreliable Narrator. Is he the sort of malevolent evil that Hastur or Beelzebub embody? No...but I don’t think he was completely innocent either. He says that he “only asked questions” or “only hung around the wrong people”. But I think he has a blind spot to his very real flaw of carelessness. He does things, sometimes brilliant things (well, brilliant in the sense that he’s good at his job), but he relies more on his wits to smooth out any difficulties rather than thinking carefully about the consequences of his actions beyond his immediate goal. 

It’s why he gets foiled by his own demonic plots such as taking down the phone system (making it harder for him to get in contact with Aziraphale when he needed to) and the plot for the M25 (making it harder for him to leave London later on...not to mention the grand scale suffering humans experiences versus the low levels of bad vibes he had planned on). This even extends to his relationship with Aziraphale where he makes the (unintentional. granted) mistake of giving the most backhanded compliment he could (”how can someone so clever be so stupid?”)....which is the exact same sort of terrible treatment Aziraphale gets from Heaven All. The. Time.

This is why Crowley simply could not stay in Heaven. A being who is supposed to act as God’s agent cannot just “wing it” for the sake of getting things done with no thought of how they are getting done. I agree that Crowley did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards because he was never going to be able to direct his free will into complete submission. It is cruel in some ways, but forcing Crowley to squash the qualities that make him not compatible with Heaven is another, worse sort of cruelty. 

With Aziraphale...it’s a whole other problem. Because, I think, he does have questions and did have them all along. I firmly believe that is part of why he’s far more welcoming to Crowley than other angels would be. It’s not just because he’s fundamentally good (and tries harder to hold to the spirit of God’s directives than his associates), it’s also because Crowley asks the questions that he thinks a lot about himself. He knows Heaven’s rhetoric for every occasion and will recite it to Crowley, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t wondered if Heaven is getting it right. 

This gets to the heart of what I think Aziraphale’s main flaw is: his inflexibility. It’s a trait that doesn’t attract too much attention in Heaven as long as you’re staying with in the company line. However, it does make things so much more difficult for Aziraphale because, once he decides he is acting in the Best Interests of God, Crowley and all the humans on the Earth, he is extremely reluctant to revise that mindset....even when he makes himself suffer because of it.... 

Thus, he sticks to rhetoric he’s told in Heaven because he’s decided that God’s Will is good and so he shouldn’t question it. He knows that angels are supposed to consort with demons, so he draws a line between himself and Crowley and won’t allow himself to question if it’s necessary (and in spite of the fact that it’s definitely not what he wants and probably isn’t what he needs). 

Even during Armageddon when so much is at stake, Aziraphale is still hesitant to go against everything he’s decided on a long time ago even though another part of him knows that he can’t just do what he’s always done. When he does yield enough to go along with Crowley’s schemes, he makes his own decision about how he’s going to handle it (”I’ll stop the Antichrist from coming into his powers, and if I can’t, I’ll ask the Almighty to fix things.” “I’ll keep up the Agreement, but I’ll also make sure to keep it on my head if anything goes wrong”.) Consequently, he wouldn’t confide in Crowley when he should have and he created far more heartbreak than ever needed to happen.

This is why Aziraphale needed to go to Earth. He simply has too many questions for someone so inflexible and is deliberately, consciously, too soft to execute the unyielding rule of law that Heaven often hands out. Whereas, on Earth (and with Crowley) he can learn about the necessity of not just questioning but also acting on those questions when needed.

Ultimately, Crowley and Aziraphale are the same (questioning the status quo, not really belonging in Heaven or Hell), but also different (one acting recklessly, one too paralyzed to act). They complement each other and are stronger together than apart. 

In the end, I agree that it was God’s Ineffable Plan for them to be together and save the world, but they still had to rise above their flaws and act on their own free wills in order to get there. 

[lunar-years]

JTV Season 5 Discourse

(honestly I hadn’t thought about JTV in ages, but after seeing the new trailer I’m suddenly emo about this show again and I just want to put my theories/thoughts somewhere. So anyway here’s my mind vomit.)

OKAY I don’t want to be controversial but honestly what was the point of bringing back Michael from the dead if they’re only using it to cement a Jane/Rafael endgame? Like there’s only two routes the writers can be taking here: they're either just using this as added drama before eventual endgame Jafael, or they’ve decided they want a Jane/Michael happy ending after all. In my opinion only the latter justifies bringing Michael back into the picture, while the first is just needlessly cruel to everyone involved...

1) So in the Jafael endgame scenario, the assumed point of bringing Michael back is to spice up the final season by inserting a little extra drama/uncertainty into the Jafael relationship. Michael comes back, Jane decides she needs to give her marriage another go and breaks up with Rafael, Michael is an entirely different person because of his amnesia, Jane ultimately decides she can’t live in the past and must move forward with her life now, and ~bam~ jafael end goal is achieved...

This scenario is surface-level good. Sure, it makes for a suspenseful season, but if you look even remotely more deeply, all it really does is 1) bring back a widely loved character only to screw him over again by using him as a pawn, causing their main character intense turmoil in the process. 2) demonstrate that they as writers do not want, or cannot, create an actually interesting plot for Jafael in which they remain in a long-term, committed relationship. One of the best parts of the Michael/Jane storyline (in my opinion) was the early season 3 stuff in which they began life as a married couple and learn to become domestic partners, as well as romantic ones. If they didn’t bring back Michael for season 5, they could have explored a similar route with Jafael, having simply continued on the current storyline of having them move in together and navigate the new struggles and challenges that come with that change. In my opinion, that they don’t do so only demonstrates that the writers struggle to create internal disagreements or conflicts (and successful resolutions) between Jafael (something they never had a problem doing well with Villadero). Like many TV writers before them, they claim they cannot write a dynamic, interesting married (or nearly married) couple with the characters they have created, so they instead decide to rehash an old love triangle, inserting an external source of conflict to stir relationship drama instead (and like, it’s not even good drama...no one wants to see the love triangle plot between these three AGAIN...) 

The major benefit I’ve seen people in favor of this plot argue is that it would ultimately solidify that Rafael isn’t Jane’s second choice. Having her ultimately select him over Michael would alleviate Raf’s insecurities and make it clear that Michael wasn’t Jane’s “true love” after all. I gotta say this doesn’t add up. Sorry, but if they have to kill Michael off, have Raf undergo major character growth by sending him to prison, AND skip ahead 5 years just to create a circumstance where Rafael and Jane would get back together, Rafael IS Jane’s second choice. Only bringing Michael back years later, oh yeah, and with amnesia, to create a scenario where Jane would choose him, does nothing to overturn that verdict. 

2) in a Villadero endgame scenario, the writers instead brought back Michael for a final, grand, romantic, telenovela arc. Michael has amnesia. They struggle to reconnect. Jane does go back and forth between her long “dead,” newly revived husband and her current boyfriend. But slowly, She and Michael begin to fall in love again. She gives up trying to make him remember everything about their past, and when she does, it becomes clearly that really he hasn’t changed, not in any fundamental way. He is still just as sweet, just as caring, just as brave and kind. And he has fallen for her all over again, in fact he is just as in love with her as he was then—and that’s what matters, not that he remember every little detail about their past together. And she loves him just as much in return. They build a new future, together.

There are downsides to this from an overall show perspective, I won’t deny. In this scenario, Michael’s “death” plot instantly becomes even more unnecessary and stupid than it already was, because if the plan was to keep Jane and Michael together all along, why kill him (thus isolating the fans that supported Jane/Michael), bring back Jafael, and string Jafael fans along with revived hope for naught? Admittedly, they’ve kind of lost both sets of viewers at that point. However, since they DID kill Michael, since they DID skip 5 years, and since they’ve now decided to bring him back, this seems like the best scenario. While it would upset #TeamRaf, this endgame quite frankly screws them over far less than it would #TeamMichael, should they carry out option 1. In this second proposed season plot, Rafael is able to demonstrate just how big of an impact the years since Michael’s death have had on him, changing him for the better. The positive change in him that progressed across season 4 can culminate in him finally letting Jane go once and for all, accepting her choice to be with Michael in a way he was never able to before Michael’s “death”, and hopefully  at last finding happiness outside of her.

Either way, I maintain that the dumbest thing JTV did was kill off Michael. It changed the show, and has honestly made everything since seem so...senseless.... With that said, because they did make that choice, I see the only real way forward as option #2. They’ve essentially put Rafael in the position to receive a happy ending even without Jane, in a way that WOULD be satisfying to a lot of viewers because it would be the ultimate culmination to his immense character growth arc throughout the series. This is not really so with Michael. They’ve already done him so dirty once, frankly, by killing him off in the first place (just so they could put Jafael back together, but I digress), so bringing him back only to strip him of his memory, then using that as a means for him to also lose his wife just seems...so relentlessly cruel. If they wanted a Jafael endgame, it would have been SO much kinder to just never have brought Michael back into it at all. 

Obviously I’m biased. I am a Jane/Michael fan myself and I want them to be together in the end, but given the writers’ strange choices leading up to this, it also just seems like a much better ending for the show as a whole.