#so i decided to compare them to highlight where the differences lied | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mashedcontroller · 3 years ago

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I feel like comparing how 03 and BH tackle the concept of genocide and how they both handle their themes around the topic. I’m going to avoid commentary on how both shows handle race specifically because I’m frankly not qualified to talk about it, but I do have quite a bit to say about how writing and themes. Analysis under the read more.

One major difference between how 03 and BH handle the concept of genocide is their thematic reasoning for why it's is wrong. In BH genocide is wrong because varied perspectives are important to forming a healthy and strong community. Which is what links Ishval to BH's thematic core of how we as people are fundamentally interconnected and rely on each other. In 03 genocide is wrong because it is genocide, but people don't like to think about it so they'll go out of their way not to, which enables its continued progression. This ties Ishbal to 03's themes about how the world is unfair, how apathy enables cruelty, and how it's important to care about things and try to change them even if it seems hopeless.

Both versions of Ishval and the genocide against its people lean into the core themes of their respective series. But in BH genocide is a cause that leads to the effect of a weaker community, while in 03 it's the consequence of widespread apathy and the reason it's wrong is fairly self-evident.

Even though the wrongness of genocide is an important part of both stories, BH's discussion of genocide always rubbed me the wrong way. While what BH is saying about the importance of varied perspectives in a community is true, going to genocide as a primary example feels both dramatic and like a bad justification for why genocide is wrong. You can logic your way around BH's explanation by arguing a certain group of people don't offer anything of value to the community and can thus be expulsed. Disabled people and immigrants come to mind as two demographics where that argument is often made against. And while that statement may go against BH's larger themes, but the show doesn't challenge and strengthen its themes enough to outright reject that cognitive dissonance. In 03, making genocide the on-going consequence of ignorance and apathy means that there's no possibility to question the validity of genocide because you can't logic your way out of "it's wrong because it's wrong."

While I doubt Arakawa or the people making the BH adaption would endorse genocide, I don't like the unintended room for argument left by the story. It also carries the unspoken theme that you need to justify your existence. Was Father evil because he hurt and killed countless people or because he took from the All without giving anything back? From the way BH depicts the characters in the military, especially Olivier Armstrong, Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes, and Miles, I would argue that the second statement is BH's answer. In 03, is Dante evil because she killed and hurt countless people or because she she took from the All without giving anything back? It's closer to the former here. If anything, Dante represents the warped take on BH's ideals that I proposed, where she argued that the entirety of Ishbal, Lior, Xerxes, Drachma, the city beneath Central, and anywhere else slaughtered in her goal to create a Philosopher Stone was justified because her continued existence was healthier for the human race than theirs. You can't logic your way around someone like that because it would require quantifying the value of human lives, but what can be worth the price of a human life? It's a fallacy that the show disproves in the first minute of the first episode.

BH's condemnation of genocide can, ironically, be easily twisted in a way that justifies it, while that just can't be done with 03's take on it. Beside that, due to a difference in where both shows put genocide in their thematic hierarchy. 03 builds up and widely applies its themes about apathy and ignorance. For example, an important part of the Nina incident that isn’t in BH is that Ed had his suspicions on Tucker well before he transmuted his daughter but he chose not to pursue them until it was too late. The most telling scene is one where Ed is heading out to walk Alexandre, notices that Nina’s drawing was burnt, and then proceeds to walk the dog. In a later episode, we meet the Tringhams, who are willing to turn a blind eye to the their town suffer from water poisoning leading to widespread miscarriages and illness as a result of their research if it means they can get closer to their father. Even minor instances of characters turning a blind eye to important stuff goes punished, such as when Edward is afraid to ask Alphonse if he hates him for what happened and proceeds not to tell him for several years, which escalates into Al’s identity crisis. No one dies and that conflict gets resolved, but it still highlights the same themes highlighted by the topic of genocide. This progression also applies in Ed’s early relationship to Sloth, where he would repeatedly choose not to think about the possibility of having created a homunculus until said homunculus is screaming in his face. The involvement of genocide in 03′s themes are the climax because enabling genocide is the ultimate consequence to apathy. In BH, the involvement of genocide in its themes is not the climax, instead it’s part of the escalating stakes. The climax is when Father tries to consume God. The difference between that and the talk of genocide is that there’s a huge difference between killing everyone and killing a select group of people because killing everyone is an abstract ambition that wouldn’t make sense in real life because it can never truly benefit anyone, while genocide is a crime that does exist in real life because does come with benefactors. I wanted to clarify the difference because escalating the stakes from genocide to destroy the world detaches the point the work is trying to make from reality. While a work of fiction doesn’t have to match reality, pulling BH’s climax away from anything that could reasonably exist also abstracts its themes, which are carried from its discussion of genocide. As a result, some of BH’s commentary on genocide also becomes abstract because this very real thing that happens is put on a lower level of tension and relevance than an event that could only be fictional.

This translates over to many of the details of the war in both shows too. Such as the detail about flame alchemy being tattooed onto Hawkeye’s back and Roy having to burn it off so that it could never be used again because seeing it being used in Ishval first hand was horrifying. It’s from the trope of a character where they alone wield a power that no person should be allowed to possess, but that trope is extremely fantasy, which clashes with heavy topic of genocide. Another moment like this is when Marco reverse-transmutes Envy in a moment of triumph, which is meant to signify his acceptance of his role in Ishval and him moving past it, but the usage of a magic fight scene to symbolize that disconnects the moment from being tangible because that development is signified through the use of a triumphant magic fight scene. The reason BH does this is because it’s a story about the oppressed and their oppressors putting aside their differences to take down the big bad. While these types of themes can be great, it doesn’t synergize with genocide. The way BH goes about this is putting a lot of weight into how its main characters from the military are good people while also putting very little emphasis on the continued suffering of the Ishvalans. Rather than going through the time to scrutinize Roy Mustang for actively participating in genocide, the show elects to make him out to be a good person in spite of that fact. This is done to make it easy to get behind and root for the protagonists. This is contrasted with the antagonists, who are shown to either not regret or actively enjoy their crimes. It results in genocide being brushed aside because it would clash with the likeability of the major characters. This is not what happens 03. Characters like Roy Mustang are heavily scrutinized and challenged for their decisions past and present. Their crimes are not brushed aside in favor of making them look good. Roy Mustang in 03 is not depicted as an overall good person and there’s a good reason for that. A particular comparison that’s always bugged me is how Roy’s primary character arc in BH has very little to do with his time in Ishval. He instead spends a lot of time dealing with the anger from Hughes’s death, which is something where both the audience directly sympathizes with him because they’ve seen Hughes and something that isn’t Roy’s fault. BH has a tendency to shift blame from the protagonists to the antagonists as the series progresses. Even unrelated to Ishval, Ed’s failed transmutation begins to look less and less bad as the show progresses, starting with the discovery that what he brought back wasn’t even his mother and ending with the knowledge he gained from it being essential for taking down Father. Meanwhile the start of the Ishval war goes from being a nameless soldier to being Envy, who enjoys causing death and brags about it. Winry’s parents died in the war, but then it was Scar’s doing, but then around when Scar stops becoming a villain and Kimblee joins the picture, we learn that Kimblee would have killed them anyways so it doesn’t really matter that Scar pulled the trigger instead. This weakens the backbone of BH’s take on genocide because by dividing the protagonists and antagonists that partook in committing genocide between whether or not they were cool with it, BH validates the concept of just following orders. In contrast, 03 doubles down on the consequences of these characters’ actions. Ed’s failed human transmutation, creates Sloth, who helps kill Hughes when he investigates her, works sacrifice thousands of people to create a philosopher’s stone, and attempts to kill Ed and Al herself. Even if the actions and the following guilt are sympathetic, 03 never looks away from the consequences. Roy Mustang is another character who does a massive list of things wrong and acts unforgivably but is still sympathetic. The anime doesn’t shy away from showing the consequences of characters actions, which reinforces their guilt and motivation. It also means that 03 doesn’t undermine the inclusion of genocide in its story in the same way BH does.

How the protagonist relates to the concept of genocide is also an important distinction to make when comparing both shows. In BH, Edward has nothing to do with it. Considering that genocide is not the climax and thus one of many escalations in stakes, apathy isn’t a thematic point in BH, and BH puts a lot of focus on its supporting cast, Edward’s lack of involvement in this plot point isn’t a narrative flaw. But it does mean that the theme of genocide has to filtered through secondary characters rather than the protagonist. This results in the Ishval war being distant from the main plot. It’s relevant to the backstories of most of the major characters, but Edward’s relative lack of involvement keeps it from overtaking the plot. This is also what allows for the plot to transition from the Ishval War to Father’s plans without dramatically cutting away Ed’s and Al’s personal motives from the plot. It’s a decision that’s thematically terrible but narratively sound. In 03, Edward’s lack of direct involvement in the genocide of Ishbal is commented on, but his hands are not clean. He was the catalyst for the genocide enacted upon in Lior and he chose to take part in, and thus be complacent in, the system responsible for the Ishbal massacre. Edward is also responsible for unlearning the propaganda about it, which occurs over the course of the show. In 03, Edward is related to the genocide of the Ishbal people not because he was there or was closely related to anyone there, but because there is no war that we aren’t all a part of. Because BH’s themes about genocide are more abstract and impersonal than 03′s, it can get away with distancing its protagonist from genocide in a way that 03 does not.

Another reason why BH distances its protagonist from genocide while 03 does not is because the shows have very different takes on Edward’s morality. In BH, he is the moral center of the show. Edward doesn’t have to reassess or challenge his ideals, nor is he ever proven wrong. As a result, the faults in failing to acknowledge the interconnectedness and need for diversity and spread in the world can’t be explored through him in the same way it is in 03, where a huge point in Ed’s character is that he’s wrong about how the world works and need to mature his worldview and ideals. If Edward can be held in any way responsible for the genocides in Ishval or Leore, then it weakens the strength of the character because it means his ideals aren’t pure. That’s why his complacency about Ishval when he joins the military is never questioned. It’s also why the massacre in Leore is glossed over. While Edward doesn’t succeed at saving everyone, Nina’s death cannot be contributed even partially to a moral failure on Edward’s part in the same way it can in 03. The thematic relevance of Nina’s death in BH is to show how one person, no matter who they are, cannot be expected to save everyone. Contrast that to 03 where Edward’s failings as a person are one of the anime’s main methods of conveying its themes. BH Edward is more of a mouthpiece than a character who has to grow when it comes to the themes the show connects to genocide.

Part of that is because 03′s themes are also much more on-the-ground than BH’s. As in, many of BH’s themes exist on a macro level. While the importance of diversity in a society is true, it’s also not something the average viewer can interact with beyond agreeing or disagreeing. 03′s themes are more micro and personal, the idea that apathy can enable tragedy can be taken to fit both the personal lives of the audience and be treated as a wake up call to actually get involved in activism. As a result, Edward becoming a mouthpiece for BH’s themes is appropriate, but it would be inappropriate to do the same for 03′s themes. Relating that to how both shows handle genocide, Edward is BH can come across as disingenuous because the show has gone out of its way to distance him from the responsibility of it. This is relevant when the show covers topics that Edward has nothing to do with, because its conclusion still matches Edward’s. The problem is that Edward doesn’t know what he’s talking about, which undercuts the validity of the show’s conclusion to anyone paying attention. With Ishval specifically, Edward’s experience with it is a single conversation with Hawkeye and Scar trying to kill him. Compare that to 03 where Ed’s final conclusion about Ishbal is shaped by both his experiences with the military, his experiences with Ishbalan refugees, him seeing the effects of genocide both from the ruins of Ishbal and the graves in Lior, and more. Edward comes to the conclusion that “there is no war that is not in some way caused by all of us” because he has seen it repeatedly. Edward’s beliefs in 03 are shaped by the story while his beliefs in BH are reinforced by the story. The problem is that BH Ed lacks an understanding to the depth of the horrors of genocide.

03 is ultimately about horrible actions that can never be taken back and living with their consequences. Whether it’s human transmutation, genocide, murder, violence, the philosopher’s stone. It’s about how apathy and inaction enables these things. How people don’t like to think about them because they’re uncomfortable, but that doesn’t prevent them from still happening. How the world is neither simple nor fair. The genocide against the Ishbalan people is one of the main cores of 03′s story. BH is about its wide cast of fun characters and the unravelling of its intrigue plot. While the Ishval war is a component to that, it’s not what the story is primarily about. The problem is that genocide is too big of a deal for the story to shove aside like it does and it isn’t compatible with the image BH wants to set about its characters being fundamentally good people, which results in BH not treating the topic of genocide with the respect that it deserves.

#bh rubbed me the wrong way with its treatment of genocide while I really liked how 03 handled the subject #so i decided to compare them to highlight where the differences lied #bh also just doesn't handle themes well in general #usually its themes will be spoken by Edward and then some other character will have to learn it in a really obvious analogy #with the analogy usually involving a fight scene of some sort #the bw morality also just doesn't work with the premise of the characters working in a military that actively endorses genocide #tw - genocide #fmab #fma 2003 #fma03 #fma analysis

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safflowerseason · 3 years ago

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the dropout episode six

*The Dropout spoilers and also actual real-life spoilers about Elizabeth Holmes and Theranos*

I thought this episode of The Dropout was one of the best so far, and interestingly enough maybe the funniest, even as the storyline got more dramatic with Erika and Tyler’s discoveries at Theranos. I think it was a smart move on the part of the show to move away from centralizing Elizabeth’s interiority as Theranos has grown and the fraud had gotten bigger and bigger, focusing less on her decision-making and more on the actions of other characters within her orbit. At some point, Elizabeth bought into her own lies and the show can no longer be solely about what drove her to keep lying (as it was primarily in the first three episodes). It’s a subtle acknowledgment of the fact that at some point, Elizabeth’s personal insecurities and the pressures around her are longer so compelling to the audience, when the scale of her con has grown so much. Sure, she is still the central character, but now that she’s made her deal with the devil, the show smartly pays more attention to the perspectives of the Walgreens execs, Tyler and Erika, and other employees/regulators. The writers have chosen other ways to highlight what’s going on with Elizabeth internally, like the filming bit where she can’t get through the words or share something personal about herself. And just in general the show’s portrayal of the mid-2010′s obsession with girlbosses and the gross aggro culture of Silicon Valley, and how it contributed to Elizabeth’s rise, remains so specific and on-point. (Also, Sunny and Elizabeth’s relationship remains so fascinating in this psychologically twisted way...I sincerely hope they show Elizabeth dumping him later on when things start blowing up.)

I’m not sure how purposeful it was on the part of the show, but I thought the difference between Elizabeth and Erika felt especially...emphasized. Two women who sacrificed a lot and took risks, were sexually assaulted, striving to succeed as professional women in science. But Erika, who unlike Elizabeth doesn’t have the privilege of being white and wealthy, risks and ultimately loses her dream opportunity in the way Elizabeth refused to. And I liked how explicit the show was (compared to Bad Blood and some of the other original reporting about the downfall of the Theranos) about the difference in Tyler and Erika’s positions, as a young white man whose very famous grandfather is on the company’s board versus a young woman of color without any sort of financial or professional safety net, and how it shaped their choices in standing up to Theranos.

Nitpicky note: having read Bad Blood by John Carreyrou, the writers have fudged slightly how the story came to his attention - it wasn’t due to some all-consuming crusade by Fuisz, Rochelle Gibbons, and that lady professor who Laurie Metcalf plays, which the show has made a bit unrealistic in my opinion (the actual story is more confusing and random and involves characters the show did not have time to introduce.) He also did many interviews with physicians and patients who had received incorrect test results. However, since this isn’t a television show about his reporting, it makes sense to me they decided to more creatively adapt this part of the story. Plus, when you have actors like William H. Macy, Laurie Metcalf, and Kate Burton, why not make up an excuse to put them in the same scene 😎 The way Metcalf’s character dresses down Fuisz was exquisitely hilarious. (Also, Anne Archer as George’s Schulz’s second wife is a fun little bit of casting...I can’t help but still see her Dennis and Dee’s mom in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but her familiar attitude of cultivated disdain works so well in this small role.)

#the dropout #scam spring #the dropout spoilers

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piecksz · 4 years ago

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forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container.

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen.

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her.

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process.

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

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onceupona-chaos · 4 years ago

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SJM setting up a forbidden romance

(And why I think ACOSF was written to set up Elriel)

This is my interpretation and obviously an Elriel post. So if that's not your cup of tea, be warned.

I made this post to basically organize my thoughts and then I decided to post it (lol). Here I talk why I think Elriel will be endgame based on my perspective that SJM already set up a lot of things that point to Elriel and a forbidden romance.

ACOSF is the first book of a new trilogy, which means SJM wrote it with an overarching plot in mind that we began to know in ACOSF. So whatever happens in ACOTAR5 is a direct consequence of the events in ACOSF.

For example, SJM won't kill Koschei and write another plot. She made her decisions when she was writing ACOSF and the overarching plot already started to be established.

I already made a post talking about the plot. I think Elain is the only character that can move the plot forward, because she's Made, therefore she can find the fourth trove and she has a connection with Koschei, which combined with how little we know about her and her powers makes her the perfect main character. But here I want to talk a little about how Sarah wrote ACOSF preparing Elain's character in terms of romance and how she set up a future forbidden romance.

At this point, it is canon that Elain is Azriel's secret, I'm not going to talk too much about, because you can check this amazing post here.

SJM structured the first book of the new trilogy around the ideia that something is deeply tormenting Azriel to the point he can't sleep and then we find out he has a secret. The bonus chapter made it canon: his secret is Elain, so there's no going back from that.

Just from the book, we know that there's something wrong with Elain and, whatever it is, she is hiding it.

Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it.

Alright, so the regular reader knows something is up with these two characters. (That alone is already a reason for the next book be about them, but moving on)

But when ACOSF is read with the perspective of a future forbidden romance in mind, we understand precisely why SJM needed us to know some very specific information.

Azriel's personality traits

SJM highlighted specific personality traits of our bat boy:

Az had a vicious competitive streak. It wasn’t boastful and arrogant, the way Cassian knew he himself was prone to be, or possessive and terrifying like Amren’s. No, it was quiet and cruel and utterly lethal. Cassian had lost track of how many games they’d played over the centuries, with one of them certain of a win, only for Az to reveal some master strategy. Or how many games had been reduced to only Rhys and Az left standing, battling it out over cards or chess until the middle of the night, when Cassian and Mor had given up and started drinking.

Sarah made a show to tell the reader the fact that Azriel is competitive, so she needs us to remember that.

That whole scene had one job: to emphasize that Azriel is competitive and strategist.

Now, if Azriel is giving up on Elain and moving on to another character, why bother to let the reader know he doesn't give up easily? If he is going to just give up on the only female that is making him get over his five hundred years passion, why bother to write a scene where he spares with Cassian only to tell the reader that?

Mostly important, why tell the reader that in countless times, Azriel seemed to be loosing, but he turned things around and won?

He's a strategist. Don't forget he planned his strategy for the snowball fight for a year.

“It seems you’ve forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment. People don’t engage in their evil deeds when it’s convenient to you.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “I stopped spying because it bored me to death. I don’t know how you put up with this all the time.”

“It suits me.” Azriel didn’t halt his sharpening, though shadows gathered around his feet.

When I read this for the first time, I honestly hadn't understood the meaning of the shadows gathering around his feet and it clearly had a deeper meaning.

But reading again, SJM used Cassian's character to emphasize that Azriel waits for the right moment all the time. Not only when he is spying. Being patient, calculating, persistent are arguably Azriel's strongest personality traits, at least the ones that are highlighted in ACOSF. Sarah is letting us know Azriel plays the long game and doesn't give up.

Every information SJM is giving us regarding Azriel (and Elain, more on her later) is essencial for a forbidden romance story. If you know what's going on with these characters, all pieces of information just... click together.

Elain's personality traits

This is a bit more complicated, mostly because Elain is passing through an inner change, which means being prepared for her arc.

However, SJM compared Elain to Azriel in ACOSF:

“Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

We already know from ACOMAF that Elain is good at secret-keeping. But here SJM not only reminded us that, but she compared Elain to Azriel in secret-keeping, emphasizing both of them are probably the best in secrecy among the IC.

Remember: these two characters are clearly hiding something in ACSF. It's not a coincidence that SJM compared them in this case.

She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friend.

SJM compared Elain's abilities to Azriel's (and his spies) not once, but twice. And if you take into consideration the previous books, it's not the first time she compares these two characters.

Both of them showed defiant behavior

Defiant: refusing to obey authority

Elain:

“What happened.”

When Rhys spoke like that, it was more of a command than a question.

Elain waved a hand in dismissal before flinging open the veranda doors and striding into the open air.

And of course, he have that fight with Nesta. Nesta isn't exactly authority, but she was described as "Elain's guardian", which means their relationship was at least a little hierarchical.

Azriel:

“No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath.

Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

“We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.”

“Like hell I will.”

Honestly, is this the guy people are thinking that's going to give up on Elain because of Rhy???????

SJM deliberately let us know about them getting over their previous LI

I've seen a lot o people arguing that "they can't be endgame, because the first couple never is".

But... are we forgetting that they were in love with two different people before?

When Elain met Azriel she was deeply in love with Graysen, and he was still into Mor. The readers didn't even know about Mor sexuality then.

Until ACOFAS, we can see that both of them are not entirely over their LI yet.

Elain:

“I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

She wanted a human man.

Azriel:

Azriel choked on what I could have sworn was a laugh, his normally shadowed face lighting up as Mor bustled in.

Az, to his credit, gave Mor a smile of thanks, a blush creeping over his cheeks, his hazel eyes fixed on her. I looked away at the heat, the yearning that filled them.

However, we get to see that they are slowly getting closer. Azriel shows he's uncomfortable in spying on Lucien, Elain's throat bobbs at the sight of him, he seeks her out to wish happy Solstice, she gives him a present, they stay up past three in the morning talking and on and on.

Months go by. We already knew they are getting closer and then we have this:

Elain:

She knew Elain had given her maidenhead to Graysen a month before they’d been turned Fae. Elain had been glowing the next morning.

Elain cocked her head. Didn’t dissolve into the crying mess she usually became when Graysen came up.

Elain was glowing: she was in love, happy. She loved Graysen. And now she is getting over him. Not only that: SJM made sure to tell us she has had sex before (and enjoyed very much lol). Elain is clearly being prepared for her arc in terms of character development, plot and romance.

And Azriel:

Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up.

Few and far between. It's a process for both of them to move on. At first they were friendly and then it became something more.

Azriel didn't wake up one day, realized that his brothers were mated to Elain's sisters and went: WAIT A MINUTE I WANT ONE. I would argue he showed interest in Elain since their first meet, just like Cassian showed interest in Nesta. However, Nesta and Cassian weren't in love for anyone else, differently from Elain and Azriel.

Also, Elain and Azriel are very much quieter in comparison, so... it makes sense that they needed more time to get closer and be romantic interested in each other.

But again: why bother to tell us both of them are moving on from their previous LI? Why tell us Azriel doesn't give up easily? Why tell us they are both good at keeping secrets and are hiding something?

SJM knew exactly what she was doing.

#pro elain #elriel #pro elriel

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riddlecrux · 4 years ago

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Light seen through the windows: an analysis of windows as a literary tool in Elriel relationship

I would love to preface this meta with my favorite disclaimer that everything that I will be discussing is based on what I have gathered from SJM writing. The quotes used in this post will serve as a starting point for further analysis. Additionally, I will be using things such as symbolism, metaphors, and literary device methods to build up my reasoning and beliefs. On another note, this, as usual, is strictly pro-Elriel meta. If they are not your cup of tea and you wish to comment, please be civil and bring arguments supported by the text.

So many of us like to gaze and stare through the windows daily. Looking at the world behind the glass often is considered a form of tranquility that we feel. Windows are essentially doors that lead us to whatever lies behind them - the last border between being in one place and then in another. It isn't then surprising that windows serve as symbols and metaphors in literature. From the start, whenever I read a passage about windows in ACOWAR I was reminded of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. You may ask why?

Emily Bronte used windows as symbolism in her work. They are very important for her characters and their personal arcs. They are symbols of barriers, misfortunes that characters face. Windows there are metaphors of various obstacles estranging Bronte's characters from achieving their hopes - realizing that the dreams they had will be not fulfilled. As I don't want to get spoilery with Wuthering Heights, I'm going to draw conclusions in a very neat manner. Bronte used windows as a connection to nightmares that one of the main characters was suffering from - it ties to the fact that in his nightmares he sees the person he had loved, haunting him. Because of the relationship with a said woman, the imagery of windows in this particular scene symbolizes death, an obstacle that stands between both of them. Throughout the book, we also get glimpses of how windows might be used as a metaphor for social classes and the contrast between them, and how Heathcliff and Catherine have to go about it. Along with the windows, doors are also used as a symbol of trapping someone in one place, obstructing them from achieving their dream or preventing them from reaching out to their loved one. Not to mention that during a very particular scene with Catherine, she wants the windows open - a symbolism of her wanting to feel free, to connect with something she knows, she longs for. This leads to the conclusion that windows in Bronte's novel are symbols of life and death, they are the in-between - a symbolic barrier.

On the other hand, windows in literature signalize something called "art of watching", and usually it is connected to a female protagonist that observes life, events through the window. Not to mention, the most famous association to windows such as "windows to the soul" - which, of course, is more metaphorical. It allows us, the audience, to connect with the character's inner feelings, struggles, as we are presented with the emotional aspect of said person. They are the bridge between the inside and outside. Windows are also a source of light, which we humans crave. Looking through the window one can absorb the light, which can resonate as a symbol of growth and change. Metaphorically we see the light from the window when we feel a need to light up the darkness inside us. They expose us, our inner feelings, and struggles.

When I read ACOWAR I have noticed that SJM decided to use windows, quite clearly, in the indication of two particular characters. Azriel and Elain. For the first time, when we met Elain again in the third book the window is a big issue.

"The suite was filled with sunlight. Every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible."

We have a clear description of the sunlit room, curtains shoved to further underline the need for light.

"And seated in a small chair before the sunniest of the windows, her back to us, was Elain."

In the brightest place in the room sits Elain, in front of the window. She is exposed to the sun, to sunlight and is absorbing that light - which is highlighted during this scene (which makes it important to note).

"Her skin was so pale it looked like fresh snow in the harsh light. I realized then that the color of death, of sorrow, was white."

The sunlight exposes Elain, its harsh light makes her pale, almost translucent. Even Feyre realizes the graveness of this picture comparing this white hue to death. As you can see the chain of events in this scene played like that: sunlit room -> curtain swept away -> Elain sitting in front of the window -> sudden comparison to death.

"She had been always so full of light. Perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. To fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. And now nothing remained."

Feyre deducts that the need for light on Elain's part is a desperate call to brighten the darkness inside her - which perfectly aligns with the metaphorical usage of windows. Elain basks in light in a helpless cry for help. The very dark void that appeared within her after being Made eats her away. It sucks her immortal life away - the one which she yet didn't get used to. On the other hand, we as readers are presented with the fact that Elain is trapped. In this Fae life, in this room, in this situation in which she grieves for her past and many what-ifs.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion. “Everyone keeps saying that.” Her thumb brushed the ring on her finger. “But it doesn’t fix anything, does it?”

Sitting in front of the window - a sunny one to be precise, which symbolizes life, growth, and change, Elain is presented in a contrast to her surroundings. To show that visible barrier that her person has to overcome. She realizes that her dreams are meant to be unfulfilled, that they are unreachable.

"My stiff, limping steps, at least, had eased into a smoother gait by the time I found Elain in the family library. Still staring at the window, but she was out of her room."

The next time we see Elain she is out of her room - her "cage", but even though she left the boundaries of her entrapment she still chooses to linger around the windows. As Feyre notices, Elain gazes through the window - we are obstructed from Elain's POV and it's hard to imagine what she could be thinking about. Yet the symbolic manner of using the window as some sort of mirror, a passage that happens throughout the series, allows me to think that the metaphorical usage of windows, in this case, isn't a far-fetched idea.

"Elain didn’t turn. She was wearing a pale pink gown that did little to complement her sallow skin, her brown-gold hair hanging in loose, heavy ringlets down her thin back."

SJM uses this sentence to highlight that it isn't just a quick glance out of the window - in fact, it is constant staring through it. It is important for us as readers to note that this thing, window gazing, is an occupation that lasts for long periods of time. It isn't something trivial, it is something that showcases the importance of said windows in Elain's journey.

“What are you looking at?” I asked Elain, keeping my voice soft. Casual. Her face was wan, her lips bloodless. But they moved—barely—as she said, “I can see so very far now. All the way to the sea.”

Feyre decides to ask Elain who is still gazing through the window. Her answer is very ominous and holds a great deal of importance, but also underlines the fact that she is drawn to the window. Not to mention that what she is seeing is the sea - another vastly discussed symbol. In this situation, I believe that the interpretation can lay in a more psychological aspect of the matter rather than a literary one. In the works of very well-known psychiatrist Carl Jung the sea "symbolizes the personal and the collective unconscious in dream interpretation". So from his notes there comes this annotation that caught my attention, "The sea is a favourite place for the birth of visions."

Elain is a seer who constantly gazes through a window which symbolizes the in-between, life and death. These two are connected to one another and SJM used many things to further develop Elain's character as a powerful figure.

"Elain only turned toward the sunny windows again, the light dancing in her hair."

After the whole conversation Elain doesn't move from her spot, quite the contrary she returns to her previous activity. Gazing through the window. Once again we are reminded about the sun and light - which signalizes that Elain tries to undergo through the process of rebirth, but also tries to break free from the unhappiness that came with lost dreams.

"Something in my chest cracked as Nesta’s eyes also went to the windows before Elain. To check, as I did, for whether they could be easily opened."

Here we have an instance of both sisters realizing that Elain spending so much time in front of windows can be dangerous, as in her attempting to jump from them. Once again, the symbolism of death.

"More steps—no doubt closer to where Elain stood at the window."

Elain is still beside the window when Lucien tries to talk to her. Even alone she seeks the place next to the window to stare.

"But sunlight on gold caught his eye—and Elain slowly turned from her vigil at the window."

Elain is still by the window, for the whole scene she is there not moving an inch from it. Furthermore, the word "vigil" is also an interesting choice. There are different meanings of it, but I find these ones very telling and suitable for this instance: a period of sleeplessness; insomnia, a watch kept, or the period of this and a devotional watching, or keeping awake, during the customary hours of sleep. We can speculate about what happened to Elain while she was in the Cauldron, what made her so withdrawn from life and so desperate for the light. I want to believe that we as readers will get our answers in the next book since Elain being a seer with unknown powers makes her a perfect target for Koschei with which she has already had connections.

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly.

Again, during the whole conversation, she doesn't move away from her spot next to the window. Windows for her, start to become a symbolism of change and rebirth - the things she probably wished while being confined to her room.

Elain only stared out the window, unaware—or uncaring.

We have another mention about staring - which further highlights how important windows are as a literary tool for Elain's character. She seeks light, she wants to overcome this barrier that was thrown at her the moment she was Made. She, perhaps, watched through the window to observe the life which was stripped away from her and turned her into this immortal being. Or, maybe she just desperately wanted to brighten up the darkness that gathered inside her because of that whole situation. Another important thing to note is that this scene is a first moment alone with Lucien - her mate, which should have been very painful for her. The conversation also held a lot of weight, yet she valiantly stood by the window as if somewhere behind it she could find an answer.

“So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden —“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

Here we have an instance of "art of watching" in which Feyre observes Azriel and Elain through the window. By watching them she comes to the conclusion that both of them are better suited and actually can comfort each other in comfortable silence. The window here is used as a barrier to showcase parallels of two couples: happily mated Feysand and unhappily in love with other people Elriel.

"But I looked to Azriel, currently leaning against the wall beside the floor-to-ceiling window, shadows fluttering around him."

And here we are start with Azriel and windows (also in ACOWAR). He is another character that has an extraordinary connection to windows. He is often mentioned next to them and somehow parallels Elain's behavior - staring through windows, being near them.

"I blinked, realizing I’d been lost in the bond, but found Azriel still by the window, (...)."

As we can see Azriel lingers next to the window without moving away from it - as the scene progresses we know that the conversation lasts a good ounce of time, yet Azriel stands in his place by the window.

"Azriel didn’t so much as turn from his vigil at the window, though I could have sworn his wings tucked in a bit tighter."

The same wording, the same imagery. Both used for Elain and Azriel. Both of them keeping vigils at the windows, staring through them as if they could find an answer through them.

"The main room of the guardhouse was stuffy and cramped, more so with all of us in there, and though I offered Elain a seat by the sealed window, she remained standing—at the front of our company. Staring at the shut iron door."

This scene is when Elain is about to confront her lover - Greysen. It is underlined that she rejected her usual spot, which is by the window, and preferred to face the door. She was trapped, she knew that a very important discussion will take a place here. She chose to look at the door rather than at the window, which in this matter could symbolize hope for a change - she stared at the door which metaphorically means transition or imprisonment.

"(...) close to Elain’s side as she and my sister silently kept against the wall by the intact bay of windows."

Another instance of Elain and her being content with being next to the windows.

"I’d seen Elain staring out the window earlier—watching Graysen leave with his men without so much as a look back at her."

"Art of Watching", but also the window's symbolism of dreams that were unfulfilled. At that moment, we can assume, that Elain realized that her dreams concerning human life and her future with Greysen would only be unattainable dreams/hopes.

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.

At the end of ACOWAR, we have this powerful moment, in which Elain gazing out of the window sees sunny streets = life. A chance of rebirth, which also beautifully overlaps with the fact that she proposed building a garden! The in-between that she balanced on while gazing through the window for so many times turned from death and misfortunes into life and hopes of the future.

ACOFAS

"Elain politely refused, taking up a spot in one of the wooden chairs set in the bay of windows. Also typical."

From Rhysand's point of view, we can deduct that even they are aware of the fact that Elain and windows are something notable. It is a place where she feels comfortable and probably spends a lot of time.

"Beyond the windows, darkness had indeed fallen. The longest night of the year. I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it."

In previous quotes, we could gather information about how Elain craved the light and how desperate she was to lighten up her person. Here, we can see that she also started to embrace the darkness. She is again by the window, observing the darkness as if no one else was around her. And of course, the one person who goes towards her at that moment is Azriel, a personification of darkness in the books.

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “I’ve never stayed in this room.” His midnight voice filled the space.

Azriel went straight to the window. And not an ordinary one, but the one through which you can see the garden. Life and light. I know many were theorizing if what kept Azriel so occupied by the window was Elain, but I would love to put some of my thoughts in this discourse. Yes, I do think that what caught his attention, or who caught his attention was Elain. However, Elain at that moment represents life and light - the things that are associated with windows. And if you spin it around you have Azriel=darkness, death staring at Elain=light, life. The in-between, the very initial symbolism of window in literature. Not to mention that in this scene we have Azriel watching the light and next we have Elain observing darkness.

“No,” Azriel said, not turning from the window.

Azriel remained at the window. “Will Nesta stay here if she comes?

“I’d still be surprised if they remember once the storm clears,” Azriel said, turning from the garden window at last.

We have a whole scene in which it is so heavily implied that Azriel was constantly staring through the window, not even bothering to move away from it. We also have another highlighted thing which is the fact that it was a garden window.

There was a tiny box left on the table by the window—a box that Mor lifted, squinted at the name tag, and said, “Az, this one’s for you.”

A small thing, yet a very sweet one. The fact that even his present was placed close to the window, which starts to become an Elriel thing.

ACOSF

"She’d barely slept for fear of Elain walking off this veranda, or leaning too far out of one of the countless windows, or simply throwing herself down those ten thousand stairs."

We have a reminder that during her stay at House of Wind, Elain was a symbol of death. She carried it on her while being associated with windows that were used as a source of light that helped her heal.

"Elain stood at the wall of windows, clad in a lilac gown whose close-fitting bodice showed how well her sister had filled out since those initial days in the Night Court."

Even when she visits Nesta, she takes the place by the windows. It is something that is strictly connected to her. As if the windows were part of her now.

Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. “I thought I’d drop by to see how you were doing.”

Light, sun, life = Elain.

“You’ve got good coloring, I mean,” Elain clarified, striding from the windows to cross the room. She stopped a few feet away. As if holding herself back from the embrace she might have given.

SJM still used the passages to underline the passage of time that Elain spent standing next to the window. It is a place in which she feels good and perhaps safe.

"They’d sat in them, before this fire, so many times that it was an unspoken rule that Azriel’s was the one on the left, closer to the window, and Cassian’s the one to the right, closer to the door."

We also get the information that Azriel always was the closest to the window - which is an odd thing to add without a deeper meaning. As if to further build up that connection between him and Elain - that both of them are aware of the fact that they are also the symbolism of the allegory of windows. I believe that SJM really researched that light and darkness trope, with which she built and she is still building up Elriel. The windows are just another tiny nugget that further envelopes both of them as one. Because while Elain transformed from death to life, she still welcomed darkness and embraced it - and Azriel opened to the life and light, seeking it. As I said, windows are a literary tool, which perhaps wasn't the main idea in the SJM text, but the amount of parallels between both of them and even the same wording applied to different scenes tells me that it's yet another connection between them.

#elriel #pro elriel #elriel meta #azriel x elain #elain and azriel #pro elain #pro azriel

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kissme-hs · 4 years ago

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Amie {c.e}

Here is the fic I mentioned in the noon. I genuinely felt pain whilst writing this. And this is one of the writings that is very much close to me. I hope you enjoy it and if you do please reblog. Feedback is appreciated - Ria xx

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: this is just sad.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Every little girl dream of that one dream that will be the highlight of her life. Walking down the aisle while the love of her life awaits. The dream to be finally loved without any conditions would come true and just like every other, the little girl in you dreamt the same.

So, you smile, a little running your hand over the fabric of your dress. Taking a look in the mirror you admired yourself. The anxiousness you felt was beyond compare than any you ever felt. Your heart thumping louder with every passing second as the time went by getting closer to the ceremony where the vows had to be exchanged, promises had to be made and two souls were to be tied together and forever.

You took a deep breath staring at your reflection in the big mirror. You eyes searched for the answers that only you seek until he appeared behind you. Hair brushed back, dressed in a black tuxedo with a smile adorning his face making you fall in love all over again.

Giving him a subtle smile, you turned around and fixed his tilted bow.

“You ready?” He asked as you shook your head with a slight laugh.

“Are YOU ready? You’re the one getting married, not me” You replied swallowing the words that cut through your throat. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat as rapidly as yours. The only difference was, his was beating with joy, happiness and excitement while yours beat with sorrow, sadness and the grieve of losing someone you loved so dearly.

“She won’t say no, would she?”

“No Chris, she loves you” he had no idea about the betrayal that he was facing unknowingly, where he thought his dear friend was happy for him, his decision, the woman he was about to get married to, lied the real truth of feelings far from his thinking. How could you be merry? How could you be rested peacefully knowing that the man you ever loved, who you ever felt yourself with, who held your hand and never left would now be someone else’s.

Though he never truly was yours, but deep in your heart lied a place where he nested warmly, as yours.

His face lightens up with those words that left past your lips, which made him happy but destroyed you completely. And oh lord how you wished you were the one waking beside him every morning seeing him smile for the rest of your life.

Jealously wasn’t what you felt. But pity. The feeling of pity was stronger than what one would call jealousy. You heart was pitying itself; it was pitying you. Why did you have to be the bigger person? If you told him the day he was crying in your arms, when his insecurities was feeding off him like a dementor, his heart clenching with the feeling of being unloved after seeing his friends getting married and having kids, that you loved him, and no not as a friend but more than that.

More than a friend could ever love, more than anyone could ever love him maybe that day you would’ve changed everything. Maybe it could’ve been you today to whom he would exchange his vows but no you didn’t. Not wanting to take advantage of his broken emotions you stayed quiet. Only whispered what he wanted to hear, not what you wanted to tell him.

And if you had the chance, you’d tell him, pouring your heart out how about you loved him. How every morning you’d wake up with a smile on your face just because how lucky you were to have him in your life, even though it was only as a friend. How if he gave you the chance, to hold his heart, close to you, you’d never leave. You would tell him how you would cradle his heart so gently that all his broken pieces would mend together and ease the pain.

But you didn’t, instead, you suggested he goes out with your friend, now who was soon to be his wife.

You smiled through pain looking down at your fingers at you seated in the front row. He asked if you’d stand with him but you denied. The pain would be unbearable, you needed to be there for yourself when you see it happening. Toying with the ring in your finger a tear dropped on the metal.

It was a gift from Chris which he got from Japan.

“This is to keep you safe. I cannot be there for you always physically so this will protect you. I love you way too much to lose you, ever” Were his words before he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. And your heart ached knowing how he didn’t mean it the way you wanted to.

Friends. You laughed at the word. Friends don’t do that. Maybe they do, but were you even his friend anymore?

Your heart dropped to pit of your stomach when you heart the music go on. They opened the gates making each of the guests turn their heads and gasp. She looked breathtaking, a perfect match for Chris. She matched his height, his personality, as if god made her just for him. But you couldn’t look at her for more than 5 seconds. Her beauty was suffocating you so you closed your eyes.

A thing you’d do as a kid to hide yourself from the world wasn’t actually hiding, but closing your eyes thinking no one could see you and you were safe. So, you shut them down. As tight as you could forgetting how hard it she making it for you to breath. But closing your eyes wouldn’t stop her from walking down the aisle now would it, and so she did.

You opened them to see Chris’s hand reaching out to take her hand from her father’s and you swore you wanted to run away. Why were you torturing yourself? Simply because you were his friend.

And time went on. Not stopping for anyone, no one and you couldn’t care. You wanted it to go, as fast as it could so you it wouldn’t feel as painful. But just before they could proceed further the and priest asked;

“If anyone has any objection from these two tying the knot of this pure relation then speak now or forever hold your silence”

You swore the time stopped and he looked at you. Chris. His eyes searching yours for an answer that maybe he wanted to. It seemed as if he wanted you to speak, wanted you to get up and confess your love that you’ve been holding for so long, and jesus you’ve never had the urge to do something so badly as you did now.

You wanted to scream and shout and cry with every inch of your body and every cell that made you who you are, you wanted to cuss him for being so blind for not seeing the love you had in the palm of your hand for him to take only to find it in someone else’. You wanted to yell how unfair it was that you were the one who held him through his dark days and you’re the one who made him smile when he forgot how to yet he decided to choose someone he’s known only for 6 months and not someone he’s known for three years.

You wanted to tell him how big of a douche he was for crying thinking no one ever loved him when you did. All this time. All along. Always.

But you didn’t.

Swallowing whatever was left in your mouth because it ran dry you gave him a nod. The same nod that you gave him when he was leaving to propose his love. The same nod that you gave him when he was about to tell her he loved her so much. The same nod that tells him he’s doing the right thing.

His eyes crinkled with the smile he passed you. Too blinded by the joy that overshadowed your miserable state he turned his attention to his bride satisfied by silence as an answer to the old man’s question. Or so he thought silence was the only answer when he couldn’t hear your cries and your pain.

And as the ceremony proceeded, you called it quits.

Picking up the remaining broken shattered pieces, ever so carefully making sure you don’t cut yourself too deep you left in the silence you came in.

But that’s what love is.

It’s not about picking the flower because you want it, it’s about letting it bloom because you love it.

#Chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fics #chris evans writngs #Chris evans smut #chris evans headers

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mysticmachmir · 5 years ago

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Tarot Through a Jewish Lens (Part I)

Is Tarot Jewish?

No. Tarot was not a Jewish creation and nor does it come from Kabbalah. When Waite made his famous RWS deck, he was a Christian occultist/magician and part of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and also formed his own Fellowship of the Rosy Cross. He was a Catholic involved in 'western esotericism' and fell under the learnings of Eliphas Levi. Eliphas Levi was not a Jewish man. He was a French gentile occultist who changed his name from Alphonse Louis Constant to Éliphas Lévi Zahed -- why? He wanted his magical works to sound more authentically exotic (aka, Jewish) because he appropriated from Jewish mysticism and skewed it for his own wants. He believed that Kabbalah was the "linking factor between the Old Testament and the New Testament", and that is rooted in Christian supersessionism, a violent ideology that has resulted in many murders of the Jewish people. Another example is the french occultist, Court de Gébelin, who claimed that the Major Arcana were numbered to correspond to the 22 letters in both the Egyptian and Hebrew alphabets. It didn’t seem to trouble him that at the time different versions of the deck that was in circulation sometimes had more than and sometimes less than 22 Major Arcana cards. Or that ancient Egyptians didn’t use an alphabet.

So no. Tarot was created as a playing card game, sprung up in Italy, Germany, and France. It was not intended for 'occult' use until much later. And still, in no way shape or form, was it ever Jewish in origin. In the Torah, besides certain kinds of divination/tools, divination is forbidden and Tarot is considered avodah zarah (idolatry) because it is a non-Jewish practice.

Now I'm sure you're asking: Well you read tarot, why are you telling me this? Aren't you incriminating yourself? I'm telling you because I want to stress and push back against cultural appropriation and Christian supersessionism that is rooted in these beliefs, and I want to make it clear that the relationship between a Jew, halacha, and G!d is on them - but to not fool oneself claiming a non-Jewish practice is actually Jewish. That, I think, is more ludicrous than just using tarot.

Alright, now onto the fun parts and what you are here for.

My Jewish Theology with Tarot

So, this is all my personal theology which obviously you do not have to share. I am Jewish and practice religious Judaism. I believe that there is only one G!d, Hashem, and that They are everywhere and in everything. In academic terms, I am a monotheistic panentheist. This aligns with a lot of Jewish mysticism, especially Chassidus, and consider myself a crossover between the Conservative Jewish denomination and Renewal, with a solid base in the American Neo-Hasidic movement . (Conservative =/= political right-wing in the Jewish movements). I deeply respect Jewish traditions, halacha, and have put a lot of thought in what I believe and how it relates to tarot. There will be of course Jews who disagree with me, but I'm not here to dwell on that. When I read tarot, I am not asking the cards to tell me the answer I am seeking - the cards are a tool, an object, and do not possess spirits of their own. I am asking G!d. Now, angels won't interfere, but sheydim (demons) can. I will talk about protections/rituals one can use to avoid sheydim meddling later. As for questions like: How does one ethically divine? How much power do interpreters have? Does G!d plan everything? Do we have free will when it comes to our future? Let’s look to source texts. “All is foreseen, but free will is given.” —Rabbi Akiva, Pirke Avot 3:15 "Rabbi Bena’a: There were twenty-four interpreters of dreams in Jerusalem. One time, I dreamed a dream and went to each of them to interpret it. What one interpreted for me the other did not interpret for me, and, nevertheless, all of the interpretations were realized in me, to fulfill that which is stated: All dreams follow the mouth of the interpreter." —Berakhot 55b "The Gemara asks: But doesn’t Rav say that any divination that is not like the divination of Eliezer, the servant of Abraham, when he went to seek a bride for Isaac (see Genesis 24:14), or like the divination of Jonathan, son of Saul, who sought an omen as to whether he and his arms bearer would defeat the Philistines (see I Samuel 14:8–12), is not divination? Since Rav did not rely on the omen in his decision making, he did not violate the prohibition against divination, and there was no reason for him to penalize himself." —Chullin 95b "What is a diviner? One who takes his stick in hand and says, (as though he were consulting it), “Shall I go, or shall I not go?” So does it state, (Hoshea 4:12) “My people ask counsel of their stick, and their staff declareth unto them” (Sifrei Devarim 171:6). (3) מעונן — Rabbi Akiba said, Such are people who assign times (עונות plural of עונה “period”, “time”) — who say, “This time is auspicious to begin some work”; the Sages, however, say, It refers to those “who hold your eyes under control” (who delude by optical deception; they connect מעונן with עין “eye”) (Sifrei Devarim 171:9)." —Rashi on Devarim 18:10-12 "... here he does not rely on the אות which he had stipulated, but where he asked G’d in prayer for help, saying that if certain things were to happen he would regard this as a sign that his prayer had been answered favorably (compare Ibn Ezra there). When the Talmud Chulin 95 כל נחש שאינו כאליעזר עבד אברהם ויהונתן בן שאול אינו נחש, the meaning is that “any divination which is not like that of Eliezer or that of Yonatan ben Sha-ul is not a divination,” i.e. is not permissible, but is akin to relying on witchcraft [Unless the person requesting a sign does so as a prayer directed to G’d it is forbidden. Ed.]" —Sforno on Beresheit 24:14 “The true power of the tarot lies in its ability to channel a clear path for our deep intuition to shine through. Consulting the tarot can help clear creativity blockages, clarify ambitions, work through complex decisions, and make sense of emotions and relationships.” —Holistic Tarot, Benebell Wen

In my interpretation of these quotes, I gather a few things:

1. In Jewish thought, dreams are 1/60th prophecy. However, dreams follow the mouth, i.e. interpretations. Multiple interpretations can be true. Being a confident and learned interpreter is important. While I did not quote it, the sages also advise the one should pay your interpreters fairly.

2. Hashem has given humans free will, so we can make our own choices. That is unique to us as beings, unlike angels. G!d already knows the possible outcomes.

3. It is not divination to notice and realize patterns or answers as long as you do not use it as an omen to change immediate course - examples the sages mention in specific are "a piece of bread falls from your mouth, so you decide not to walk to the lake", i.e, seeking 'signs' and omens randomly to direct your life.

4. Rashi's explanation of what a diviner and sorcerer are, compiled from different Jewish texts. Now, I am not here to say "and this is proof Judaism and halacha are actually fine with divination!" Nope, in Bamidbar 23:23, it is very clear that Jews are told to get what they need from prophets or G!d themself, and do not need augury. What I am arguing here is that by these specifications, and connecting to my final point of what tarot actually is, tarot may not fall under that category depending on how you use it.

5. I wanted to highlight Sforno's commentary here because the way I read tarot is via prayer. Tarot is a tool, and when I begin a reading, I am not asking the cards, I am asking Hashem to use these cards as a sign and communication.

6. Finally, I quoted Benebell Wen because of her poignant understanding of how tarot is less about "fortune-telling" and more about a creative psycho-spiritual exercise for intuition and is more like a mirror to our subconscious telling us what is true. Fusing this with the ideas above, this is my short rundown of how I see and view Tarot: Tarot is a prayerful, spiritual tool as a way I can interpret and communicate from G!d, and I understand the cards themselves are not going to tell the future. Tarot is a mirror for the subconscious and a way for us to work through things we do not feel we can do on our own, be'ezrat Hashem (with the help of G!d).

Jewish Tarot Spreads

As I don't want to just post photos, I am instead going to include links to the tarot spreads I have found, to their origins so you can know the creator!The Archangel Spread The Divine Threads Spread Wisdom of the Hebrew Priestess Spread Vessel, Offering, Ally Spread Do Not Play It Small Spread Rooting and Releasing Spread

Jewish Tarot and Oracle Decks

Eht/Aht Netivot Oracle Deck

Tu B’shevat Oracle Deck

Moon Angels Oracle Deck

Malakhim Meditative Cards

Raziel Tarot Deck (Out of Print)

Jewish Tarot (Never Printed, Can See All Cards Virtually)

72 Names Deck

Tokens of Light Deck

King Solomon Deck

Revealed by the Letters Deck

Cleansing and Protection

So, of course, this is so dependent on what you think is most important for you, as it is your practice. However, I will share what I do.

When it comes to doing readings, I have a very specific ritual. First, I light incense or a candle depending on what I feel like doing at the time. This is something I am still working on and trying what fits best for me and my cards. I will use incense smoke to cleanse cards or the "knocking" card trick. Then, I say two prayers - I recite the blessing:

"Blessed are you G!d, Ruler of the Universe, who opens the eyes of the blind. The reason is because of the allegory that intuition and divination are connecting to a special type of sight. Then, in the case of the concern with sheydim messing with the reading, I have decided to use the protective angel prayer:

"In the name of the Lord, G!d of Israel:

May the angel Michael be at my right side,

and at my left side, Gabriel,

before me Uriel, behind me Raphael,

and above my head, Shekhinat El, G!d's presence." This is traditionally recited at night, but I felt it was just as appropriate to call on these angels for protection. Plus, Uriel is associated with illumination and is a useful presence to have during these readings. In Jewish gemology, lapis lazuli is good for bringing understanding and grounding intuition, so I use that gemstone as well while I read. Eventually, I'd like to also get an onyx as it is associated with enlightenment and wisdom in Jewish gemology. I also use a tarot cloth with a hamsa and have a protective amulet pendant.

Finally, when I shuffle my cards, I sing a very specific phrase - the "ein od milvado" from Kohelet 1:2, in a tune that puts me into a meditative headspace - and I shuffle with my eyes closed, only stopping when I feel it is right to do so. I also use a kabbalistic meditation technique to allow the divine flow (shefa) from G!d's light flow through the crown of my head.

If you liked this work and information, consider tipping me at: https://ko-fi.com/ezrasaville!

Sources (I will post this in every post of this series): Sefaria Chabad Tarot and the Gates of Light by Mark Horn Torah, Tarot, and Tantra by William Blank The Jewish Dream Book by Vanessa Ochs Magic of the Ordinary by R. Gershon Winkler Tarot Wisdom by Rachel Pollack The Wisdom in the Hebrew Alphabet by R. Michael Munk The Encyclopedia of Jewish Magic, Myth, and Mysticism by R. Geoffrey Dennis https://www.telshemesh.org/ https://hsastrology.weebly.com/hebrew-zodiac-signs.html https://ohr.edu/this_week/ask_the_rabbi/2394 https://www.gatesoflighttarot.com/ http://www.devotaj.com/ http://www.peelapom.com/

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calpops · 4 years ago

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falling facade | c.h.

part nine: falling fires

5k words

<< >>

“I told you,” Arden whispered when morning came and the storm the paparazzi brought was drowned out by filtered sunshine. “Just needed to rest it.”

Calum was relieved to find she was moving about with much more ease than the night before; her fall on the sidewalk swarmed by flashing cameras looked much worse than it really was. Calum now figured part of the problem was shock; the unexpected growing crowd and being closed in had shaken her much more than the fall or the twist of her ankle. She woke before him but Calum had to wonder if she really slept at all after the debacle. He had held her close the entire night, had drifted and woke when she shifted. Now she stood at the edge of his bed with her hair piled on top of her head and one of his sweatshirts stolen and hanging off her frame for the morning.

“Why don’t you keep resting it and I’ll get us some breakfast?” He asked and sat up, rubbed at his tired eyes then used one hand to pull her close and hoped it would coax her back into bed. “Can swing by the diner and get your favorite.”

The promise of a cinnamon roll was enough to get her to settle back in. Duke clamored his way to her from his perch at the end of the bed where he liked to keep a lookout out of the door. Calum slipped on some decent clothes and bid them both a goodbye with kisses to their foreheads and left with a smile as they snuggled back in together. The morning felt much lighter than the night though new weights hung over their heads. Calum would have to negotiate with management to make his promise to Arden come true. No more paparazzi walks. He’d propose more social media posts to even the balance. He didn’t hold his breath or his hope that they would go for it, but he had to try. He made it to the diner and relished how quiet and calm it was compared to the club. He ordered at the counter but let his gaze flicker over to their booth where a crayon drawing had been created. It was still stuck to his fridge. After ordering his phone began buzzing, notification after notification pouring in. His eyes couldn’t keep up with the flickering screen but key words and names jumped out at him.

He went stiff and silent as he pieced it together. An interview they had done during their week of promo was exploding on its online publication. His words were plastered across headlines and taken terribly out of context. They were glaring and put a pit in his stomach. The crowd last night, the article going live along with cherry picked photos of Calum “leaving Arden in the crowd” and the timing of them all put together reeked of management. With numb hands he pocketed his phone, accepted the order from the kind waitress and headed back for his car, all the while fearing what Arden would think and if she might understand his words weren’t real. They were twisted and contrived into something he would never mean. He ran for the door as soon as he was parked in the driveway. He was about to rush to the bedroom with food still in his hands but stopped short when Arden was on the couch, Duke held to her chest and a despondent look capturing hazel.

Calum tossed the breakfast on the counter and went to her. She pursed her lips and though it seemed as if she was harrowed by his words and the way they were used against them, she reached for him. Discarded her phone and was thankful to see the article disappear as it locked.

“You know I didn’t say that right? Not like that. They took it all and twisted it. I’d never—“ Calum began but Arden shook her head and cut him off.

“I know you wouldn’t. I’m not stupid. And I trust you. Fuck, I was probably even there when you said what you actually said”—she shifted up and made room for him to settle in beside her—“I know we haven’t defined what we really are but… you wouldn’t say or do that.”

At first she was certain. Voice steady and breathing even as she rationalized and talked through the words that sank low in Calum’s stomach. And then she fell into the spiral and let it sway her certainty and fray her thoughts.

“Would you?” She asked and Calum could see the regret flash across her face the moment the words left her lips.

“No,” Calum was quick to put her small doubts to bed. His fingers trailed her jaw and coaxed her to look at him. Reminded her with a gentle touch of all that they were and all that was fake. “We’re together, Arden. I’m not waiting to start touring to see how things pan out. I’m not gonna leave you behind.”

“Together?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Calum said with a soft smile and easy glide of fingertips along her soft cheek. She pressed into the touch and let out a sigh, kept questions in her gaze and begged him to further explain. “I’ve wanted to be with you since the kiss on the dance floor. I thought it was decided that afternoon at the art gallery. I guess I never officially asked though.”

“No, you didn’t,” Arden responded and twisted the fake ring around her finger. For a second it didn’t feel so fake. For just a heartbeat Calum could picture it being real.

“Will you be my real girlfriend inside of our fake engagement?”

The question got Arden to giggle and it was music to Calum’s ears. The mood was lighter as she pretended to contemplate.

“Well I don’t know about that,” she said around a laugh and silenced when Calum kissed her, reminded her of why she should know. “I think my yes is obvious. Ever since Vegas. Especially since the art gallery.”

Calum couldn’t cut back the grin that consumed him or stop himself from leaning in to steal another kiss. She was supple and sweet and calm worked its way back through them. The chaos of the past night and morning was starting to shatter and for that Calum was grateful. Arden knew the headline was contrived. And now they both understood each other and the way they were defining what was between them. A real relationship veiled by a fake engagement. There were still hurdles to surpass, still truths that needed to be told, still forces that needed to be fought. But for now they had each other unquestionably.

“Why now?” She wondered aloud as the kiss ended and another notification lit up her phone screen discarded on the coffee table in front of them. “It has to be management. They’re starting the split aren’t they? It’s only been five months. I thought we had more time, why now?”

Calum shook his head, pressed a gentle kiss to her neck and rested against her shoulder. “I don’t know.”

Her fingers found purchase in his hair and lightly ran through it, the motion calming for both of them. “They’re making it seem like you’re not interested anymore. I thought it was supposed to be mutual. I thought we had an entire year before we had to worry about it. But now that we’re real…”

“We’ll talk to them tomorrow,” Calum decided; he’d put an end to the flames, make sure paparazzi walks were a thing of the past, the truth was a fleeting thought in his mind but it was squandered by fear they may use it as ammunition against them. “We’ll get it figured out. I’m not going to let them ruin us.”

Calum felt a nod from Arden and the way she settled her chin on the top of his head. She was warm and her arms were comfortable. Rarely did Calum seek out such a form of affection and comfort; so used to being the one to hold his arms open, her embrace and hold was refreshing and reassuring. Calum remembered her whispered plea to go home during a promo day—to Calum’s place—and realized that right here, in her arms, with lips pressed to her skin, was home for him. She was his comfort; the certainty to the questions and the calm to the chaos. Two different four letter words he hadn’t felt in a long time. One was here. Home. One sat heavy on his chest and burned in the back of his throat. Love.

There was a fear that it was too soon; they were moving too fast and Calum was merely blinded by the lights and mixing realities. Then there were the years they spent coexisting. The remembrance of things past that only highlighted everything he felt in the present. Paintings in hallways and teasing initials and nicknames in melodies and nights spent in her bed. Maybe, it really was love at second first sight.

***

Once headlines were forgotten and Calum had words with management; an agreement reached to lean back on time with paparazzi and some expletives over the twisted words, Calum and Arden found alone time together once more. The diner brought back blushing memories and a sense of normalcy and ease. Hair fell in her face as she scribbled on a menu once more and words of a painting sat on the tip of Calum’s tongue but he held them back and enjoyed the subtleties of her happiness. A slight smile upturned the corners of her mouth and the backlight of the sun set her in a glow that made her a work of art.

Calum’s phone rang on the laminate table top and Arden only spared a second to glance over as he rolled his eyes at the device and silenced it.

“Anyone important?” She asked and ducked back down to her work in progress.

Calum sighed, the sound was tired and a bit exasperated. “Not really.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing.”

He rubbed at his jaw and contemplated how to tell a truth, not wanting to leave Arden in the dark or omit anything. As many lies as they lived Calum needed honesty between them to even out the balance.

“It’s just…” he began and felt trepidation dance up his spine. She looked up at him, arched eyebrow and a gentle gaze telling him he could share. “An ex. She’s texted and called a couple of times since that headline came out. I thought she’d get the memo when I ignored them all. I’ll block her.”

“You don’t have to,” Arden said around a laugh and reached for his hand. “You know you could just talk to her and tell her some form of the truth. I had to with Brett.”

“Brett?” Calum asked, the name jarring something inside of him, setting something at unease. “Your ex? Who dumped you? Married your best friend in Vegas?”

“All of the above,” she confirmed and rolled her eyes—a huff leaving her in the same second.

A sense of protectiveness and perhaps a bite of jealousy ran through Calum. “He’s married.” His tone carried messages of what does a married man want with you and stupid Brett all in one.

“Was married. Guess they called it quits a month in. Maybe he had the same idea as your ex once that headline hit,” she explained, thumb running over the back of his hand to say words she hadn’t spoken. “I told him it was taken out of context. That we’re happy. He hasn’t called again.”

Calum warmed at the happiness part, felt his heart flutter and four letter words come back full force. He bit his tongue, pocketed his phone and decided to deal with both of those situations on another day.

“Good,” he said and regretted the word as it was laced with obvious disdain for the man he only knew in passing. But Arden’s airy giggle and lit up eyes told him his distaste was funny and he could maybe get away with being so openly against him. “I’ve never liked that guy.”

Calum knew the statement was outlandish as ‘never’ didn’t have two legs to stand on. Never was only Vegas. Only a ceremony and a passing moment at the reception. But from Arden’s words he assumed never could be from the moment she and Brett met. During their relationship when she’d find places like their diner to get away and not be with him. He wondered if they’d been in touch during those lost years if he truly never would have liked him.

“You don’t even know him,” she said but kept her smile and a fondness in her tone. “It’s okay though, I’ve never liked him either.”

Her nose crinkled to show her own distaste for the defenseless man and now it was Calum’s turn to laugh.

“Then why’d you date him?” The question slipped out before Calum could think better of it.

“So he would dump me and marry my best friend, thus making me need a date to their wedding and you giving me the pity I wanted. Why else?”

“An elaborate scheme,” Calum declared and brought her hand up to kiss. “I’m impressed.”

Arden licked her lips and pushed her newest place mat drawing towards him, tapped her fingers on the tabletop and launched into a serious explanation he wasn’t expecting. “I was really lost in university. I lost touch with Michael and my parents. I guess… he was just there when I pushed everyone else away. It went on way longer than it should have, he kind of ‘encouraged’ it, kept me busy and away from them. The only times I really talked to them was through phone calls in diners when I got away from him. He dumped me when I told him I was leaving university and I might go home. But I didn’t. I guess I just couldn’t face them yet. Tried to warn Viv about him, guess she learned on her own.”

Calum felt winded. The new information about her escapes left him heartbroken. It answered questions—why she never visited, why Michael didn’t talk about her much, why there was a strong disconnect between her and her parents. He could see she was trying to mend fences, build back what they had and find herself in the process. Find her family and where she fit into it. Calum knew Michael and her parents would always leave a spot for her. She just needed to reach for it. The fear of disappointing them made more sense than ever. Calum was going to tell her that opening up to them as she did with him would be a good starting point.

“You know,” she said suddenly and broke the solemn mood that befell them at her Brett explanation and stopped Calum from voicing things he didn’t have a say in—she needed to find her own way back to them. “You haven’t told me anything about your ex.”

Calum scoffed and waved a hand through the air to try and downplay it. “It was ages ago. Hardly anything to tell.”

“Oh come on, there’s got to be something. I just spilled my heart out. Your turn.”

He shrugged. Realized he had been keeping his previous relationship bottled up; his first true heartbreak still sat heavy with him at times. But it was Arden and the light that followed her that took the weight off him, made him question if it was really even love and if it wasn’t, then how could it be heartbreak?

“Things just didn’t work out between us. I think we both tried but it wasn’t right. I had to make the choice to end things before we came to resent each other. I don’t think she understood, I probably didn’t give her enough closure. I just needed to be done. I needed to move on.”

Arden nodded and broke her hold on his hand, picked up the crayon again and mumbled, “I think you have a call to make.”

“You don’t mind?”

She shook her head and spared him a glance. “Once you give her the truth and some closure I have something to give you. It’s back at my place.”

Calum smirked and excused himself to call her back. He stepped outside and braced himself as the phone rang. It came as a surprise when she answered and understood and wanted him to be happy; whether it was with her or with Arden. He told her it was Arden. He told her they ended because things weren’t right, something was missing and moving on to try and find it was what was best. After a moment she agreed. Thanked him for the call and wished him well. Arden came out of the door when he ended the call, offered her hand and a sympathetic smile. He pulled her into his side and held onto what he knew was right, to all the missing pieces he had been searching for. Calum felt his heart ease at the closure he could give and the colliding paths that found each other.

“You said you have a gift for me at your place?” He asked with a tilted smile and arched eyebrow.

“Don’t get your expectations too high. It’s just a little something.”

***

A little something was presented to Calum under secret circumstances. Arden rushed to her room and kept him out, came back out with her hands behind her back and a bitten lip. Calum cocked his head to the side and approached her slowly as a faint blush captured her cheeks.

“It’s actually two things,” she amended and presented one to start with.

Covered in cloth and rectangular Calum had no guesses before his hands enveloped it. The first touch told him all he needed to know, a grin grew on his face as he removed the cloth and stared down at the sunset. The same sunset that was in the Clifford’s hallway. The original work of art that sprinkled renewed memories through Calum’s mind and made him realize he had always known and understood Arden, even in fleeting moments scattered through their childhoods.

“This is the real one?” He asked, just to ensure his assumption was correct and his memory was reliable.

“My mum sent it. I figured it’d be better off with you than tucked away into the guest room.”

He took a moment to admire it and relish in the memories it so vividly painted in his mind. Arden edged a bit closer to him, let her own eyes peek at the paint and quietly brought her other offering out from around her back.

“It isn’t much. I haven’t painted in years but you and your blank wall were begging for something.”

Calum chuckled at her remark and took her words in jest as he swapped with her and uncovered the new painting. His breath caught in his throat and eyes fluttered back up to her as she swayed back and forth, weight from one foot to the other as she watched his reaction. The canvas was painted with what was real to them. The diner was abstract but recognizable. Silhouettes in the windows represented them and Calum lost his words in the meaning.

“If you don’t like it I could paint you another beach,” Arden murmured, a note of panic and apprehension cracking her voice at the end of her sentence. Calum quickly shook his head, wanting to put those doubts at ease as soon as possible.

“It’s perfect,” he said and felt honesty fluttering his heart, moving him to set it on the coffee table and pull her close instead. She did the same with the waves on canvas and welcomed his embrace. “Like you.”

A giggle left Arden in a breathy and unbelieving way. Calum knew his words were cheesy but he also knew if she wasn’t perfect then she was perfect for him. Those four letter words came crashing back into his being and the tip of his tongue at the taste of sugar gracing him. He’d never tire of the sweetness.

“I’m ready to tell my parents,” she said as a whisper against his lips, her soft hands gliding through his hair and down to the tops of his shoulders. “It’s my turn to give the truth, isn’t it?”

Calum minutely nodded, felt the brush of sweetness against his lips again. Let shadows dance behind closed eyelids, the low lighting creating intimate images. The day had faded and nighttime crept up on them in a full moon and one window to cast slight light through to them.

“How about in the morning?” He mumbled, eyes still closed and seeking sweetness, a want for something else lingering between them.

“Okay,” she said and lifted herself to the tops of her toes, smirked into a kiss and set out to discover more pieces of each other.

His hands found her waist with ease, hers settled feather light on his jawline and footsteps carefully backed them away from the living room and toward her bedroom door. It was a trip made many times before, one that Calum knew like the back of his hand. The small distance to her bedroom had been walked before but there were still lines that had yet to be crossed. Calum felt electric with her touch, familiar with her warmth and the way her body fit so nicely against his. Her back hit the bed and he hovered over her, kissed places he already knew and wandered to ones that were exciting and new. She was pliable in his hold and receptive to his every touch, he savored every second as the night slipped by in needy sighs and new highs they had never reached before. And in the morning when they woke between the sheets with tousled hair and purple painted skin Calum nearly let one four letter word slip out.

He bit his tongue and tasted her, held his breath as she rolled over with contentment written on her face as her eyelashes fluttered. He was met with hazel in new light, a smirk that replayed the feeling of her lips against his skin and a sigh that sounded reminiscent of his name and more wrapped around it. When her hand roamed back to his hair and her fingers brushed through his messy tresses he could almost feel the pull and reveled in the attention. He noted the marks on her skin, the way they clashed with delicate ivory and painted a retelling of the night before. Calum grinned when she pouted and leaned in to say good morning in a way he usually did.

With his lips pressed to her forehead he asked, “Breakfast?”

She made a noise of agreement and slowly sat up, the sheet covering her reminded Calum of a panicked morning in Vegas. Except this morning was calm and cloudy, hazy with leftover lust. She reached for his shirt that was sprawled out on the end of the bed. It was the only article of clothing that didn’t end up on the floor.

“Can I borrow your shirt?” She asked with wide eyes and a playful smile.

“Nope,” he laughed and sat up with her. He kissed her shoulder. “Topless breakfast.”

She turned with a fake glare and grabbed the shirt anyway. “You go topless this time. I will next time.”

“Alright, but I’m holding you to that,” he promised and reached around to help button it. “Say, tomorrow?”

Arden laughed and shook her head. “You wish.”

As she vacated the bed Calum called after her that he did and waited a second—a little too wrapped up in his own thoughts and finding his pants thrown into the corner—before chasing after her. He met her in the kitchen where his shirt hung off her smaller frame and made him glad she had asked to borrow it. Though he still felt his idea would be even better. She pulled out cereal and offered him some.

“I’m gonna call my parents today, when it’s good their time,” she said around a bite then nervously moved her spoon through the bowl. “You don’t have to tell yours at the same time but it’d probably make sense to. I’m sure they’ll be in touch with each other after anyway.”

“We’ll do it together,” Calum offered, as he had since the very beginning. He was elated she was ready. “We can Group FaceTime them. Tell them we have a secret surprise.”

Arden let out a short breath and set her spoon down to clap her hands on the countertop. “We’re not just taking our time with the engagement. It’s not even a real one. It was just a drunken joke that management made us stick with. Surprise!”

Her words were sarcastic and Calum played along. “We’re not really engaged, that’s our secret. But we are really together. That’s another secret. Don’t tell Michael. He only knows about the fake engagement.”

Arden chuckled and shook her head, hair falling into her face. “This is going to be awful.”

Calum pursed his lips and nodded. “It’ll be okay, we’ll just take care of it one set of secrets at a time.”

***

Surprise fell on Calum and Arden at the reactions their parents had to the truths they told. They decided to start with Vegas and the fake engagement; wanting to wait to reveal their true relationship a while longer, feeling they owed it to Michael to tell him first. Mali merely said “I knew it” around their parent’s sheer shock. Gasps filled their end of the line but support and understanding followed quickly thereafter. Calum kept his eyes on Arden, noted the subtleties in her responses and the way she began to get quieter as the conversation went on. She became reserved; sunk back into the couch nearly out of view of the camera and let Calum take the lead. He wrapped it up when he turned to look back and saw she was biting her lip, gazing despondently out the window and worried she wasn’t okay.

“We’ll talk to you guys later,” Calum said with finality before hanging up with one last wave and smile for his mum.

He turned to her, hand going to rest on her knee in a form of comfort for her and a reassurance for him. She came back from her state out of the window and gave him a timid smile.

“I’m really glad we got that over with,” she admitted and sighed. “And I’m sorry that I even made us lie in the first place.”

Calum softened at her apology and understood the meaning; though he didn’t agree—she hadn’t made him do anything—he didn’t argue, knowing that the apology was just as much for her as it was for him.

“They took it well. Feels much better to get that out in the open,” he agreed and dipped down to rest his head against her shoulder, the automatic reaction of her leaning into him and accepting his presence made his nerves and hurt flutter in tandem. “We’re almost done.”

All that was left was telling Michael the fake engagement had blossomed something very real between them. And then they would circle back around to their parents and Mali who would likely have another “I knew it” in store. Calum trailed his hand up her thigh and found her hand, felt the cool ring on her finger and felt a fall of pressure on his chest. Soon enough there would be no more ring. No more reason management would want or allow them to be together. It was another bridge they would have to cross.

“It was almost too easy,” she said, paused and shifted to throw her legs over his lap and have him look up at her. Her hand came up to rest against his chest and he once again wondered if she could feel his heartbeat. Someday he would have to ask her about that. “I hope Michael will take his surprise just as well as they did.”

Calum huffed out a small and sarcastic laugh and took up the game they had played in the kitchen during breakfast. His voice screamed sarcasm. “Hey Mike, you know how we’ve been pretending to be together? Well that’s not entirely fake; we’ve been sneaking around. Surprise!”

Arden also let out a sarcastic laugh and threw her head back into the plush cushioning of the couch. “You were right. He is going to kill you. Or at least try.”

“You’re worth it,” Calum assured but panic was rising, twisting his stomach and doubt inching its way in.

There was a part of him that wished it could stay the way it was just a while longer. A lingering need to have her to himself, a selfish want to postpone the problems that were still left to be faced. What Michael didn’t know wouldn’t get Calum killed, what they didn’t tell Michael couldn’t possibly get him hurt.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” she said and left the ball in his court.

His selfish desire spilled out. He couldn’t help it. He had a plan, an admission and declaration Arden needed to hear before Michael came into the equation. “Let’s wait awhile.”

“Whatever you want,” she promised, tapped her fingers lightly against his chest in a slow rhythm and brushed her lips against his cheek. “You’re worth it.”

<< >>

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cultivating-wildflowers · 3 years ago

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Books of 2021, August

#54 - Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery (re-read) - 5/5 stars

Each of these books seems sweeter than the last. Even knowing how it ends, I was in agony over Anne continually rejecting Gilbert. I wept over Ruby and laughed with Phil and highlighted so many bits and pieces. The next book in the series is where I left off ages ago when I first picked up these books, so I’m doubly excited to get to it.

#55 - Anne of Windy Poplars by L.M. Montgomery - 4/5 stars

Had to get the audiobook for this one. It’s such a different style and tone in the beginning than the others in the series that it was a little difficult to keep engaged. I discovered only after that, while chronologically it’s the fourth in the series, it was the seventh published. It felt sleepy compared to the prequels.

#56 - Anne's House of Dreams by L.M. Montgomery - 5/5 stars

This whole series really is a love song to life, isn’t it? And we finally get a bit more of Anne and Gilbert’s romance, which is always great. Did enjoy that little twist near the end. (Honestly should have seen it coming.) As always, I adore the characters.

#57 - My Man Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse - 4/5 stars

This book was plain fun. I read it as an audiobook during a slow period at work and kept struggling not to laugh out loud.

#58 - A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner (re-read) - 4/5 stars

It’s taken me so long to get to this one that I finally caved and just listened to the audio again, making notes in my hard copy as I went. And then I listened to the whole thing in a day.

While this isn’t my favorite of the series, I do still very much love it (particularly the gun gag, but who doesn’t love that?). Sophos is in my top four favorite characters. The way he constantly tries to emulate Gen and constantly underestimates his own strength kills me every time. Also, while I love reading about Gen and Irene’s romance, Sophos and Helen’s is more what I crave, so of course I adore them.

#59 - A Wind from the Wilderness by Suzannah Rowntree - 3/5 stars

For the life of me I can’t remember where I first heard of this book. I know I ended up getting it on Kindle a while ago and then forgot about it until I was searching for a different book. Decided to read it on a whim and enjoyed it pretty well, overall. No I lied this story frustrated me to no end.

Like, for a while there I could kind of enjoy it. The romance felt a little forced to me, and the book had a couple of basic editing issues (might have been related to ebook formatting, really), but I enjoyed the historical setting and details (minus the inaccuracy about the size of an average Crusades-era warhorse), even if the plot didn’t really grab me.

Then a lot of stuff happened in quick succession near the end and I just kind of gave up. Here I was hoping for a slightly happy ending and did I get that? Oh, no.

I don’t plan to finish the series.

#60 - Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff - 5/5 stars

This one ended up on my TBR after I saw it rec’d in the Queen’s Thief Fandom (I want to say it in someway inspired TQT but not 100% on that). Got it as an audibook and listened to it during a housework Saturday.

The audiobook was all of 4.5 hours, tops, and the narrative style is very easy to listen to. Not a lot of high action, but a solid adventure all the same. Reminded me a little of Stephen Lawhead but that could just be the Roman Britain setting.

There is a short series that follows, but I like this as a standalone.

(Tried recommending it to my dad since it seems in his taste, but he remembers the movie and I don’t think he liked that one. Said something about it being less accurate than Gladiator which is low abuse for him. So I don’t think he’d willingly read this.)

#61 - Children of the Mind by Orson Scott Card - 4/5 stars

And that’s the first Ender series finished!

I listened to the first three in audio form (library didn’t have the audiobook for this) so actually reading was kind of weird. That and it’s been a while since I read the other books so half of the details were lost to the ether and I had to keep looking up summaries.

I really struggled with the first half of this book. Maybe I just wasn’t in the right mood for it, but it felt a little slow (that and I kept reading it before bed and falling asleep). It proved to be just as introspective and challenging and surprisingly emotional as the rest of the series. I love the way Card’s experiences and research are clearly evidenced, just off the page. I love how I’d be reading along and bam! Bit of poetry on the gentle and reliable nature of real love here; hilarious and witty dialogue there; oh, and we’re back to discussing the nature of humanity.

Yes, I definitely cried at one point, quite to my own (hormonal) surprise.

On one downside, while I like a lot of Card’s ideas and especially how he communicates those ideas, I do not like how he (or at least many of his characters) treats marriage. It’s a little too flippant for my taste. Especially among the cradle Catholics in his cast.

Also how DARE Card make me sympathize with Peter 2.0?

#62 - Adorning the Dark by Andrew Peterson - 4/5 stars (original ‘21 TBR)

My first nonfiction of the year! And wow, this one was good! (Yes it took me a while to get through but I kept getting distracted.) I’ll be coming back to this one again and again. So much wisdom here, and I love how Peterson writes like it’s a conversation with the reader. It’s such a warm, welcoming style.

It did get a little long-winded and rambly at points, hence the four stars.

(I definitely prefer this to his children’s fiction but that’s down to taste.)

#63 - Anne of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery - 4/5 stars

My only true complaint of the series at this point is that SO MANY characters have been introduced up to now that I’ve lost track of all of them. Took me forever to remember who Rebecca Dew was.

As always, I adore Anne and her family.

#64 - Thick as Thieves by Megan Whalen Turner (re-read) - 4/5 stars

Listened to this at warp speed during work on the 31st. It remains my least favorite of the series (for whatever that’s worth). I miss Gen.

That said, there’s plenty I appreciate about this installment: the different pantheon to explore, the myths and appearances from those gods and heroes, the fulfillment of Gen’s promise made to Costis in KOA, the shift from straight-up court intrigue and trickery to adventure, and getting to see Costis from an outside perspective that isn’t Gen’s.

It was also interesting reading this after finally getting ROTT and knowing now what was going on back on the Little Peninsula at the same time.

And HELLO PHERIS IS RIGHT FRICKIN THERE. No wonder I recognized his POV of that scene in ROTT. AND THE LETTER KAMET WRITES HIM.

DNF:

Fable by Adrienne Young - Irritating MC, bland story building, and I didn’t like where the romance was headed.

Heartless by Anne Elisabeth Stengl (original ‘21 TBR) - unsympathetic MC (another princess who complains about her lessons and her clothes and refuses to marry a man because he’s “stodgy” and “probably doesn’t read poetry” and “isn’t romantic”). Writing style wasn’t terrible, but didn’t hold my interest. Also the cat creeped me out. I read a book once that included a horse that was born without eyes and I have never recovered. (Several reviews also mentioned this was allegorical, though I’m not entirely sure how.)

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goneseriesanalysis · 4 years ago

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Drake Merwin

I am soo sorry, this is super late but I got incredibly distracted with reading and forgot that literally anything else existed. Drake was a really hard character for me to analyse because his characterisation was just so disappointing to me - but luckily my intrinsic desire to have everyone hear my opinions prevailed, and so here it is. I hope you enjoy!!

Spoiler Warning: Major spoilers for Gone, Minor spoilers for the rest of the series and the monster trilogy

Old Opinion: I had a sort of morbid obsession with Drake and thought he was a top-tier villain

New Opinion: So far Drake is tied with Astrid for most-changed opinion. His character has almost no-depth and could be placed in almost any story without changing a single thing about him - and it would make sense. I found myself desperately trying to make him more interesting than he is in an attempt to justify younger me’s obsession - but alas I was unsuccessful. He had a lot of potential, but instead he ended up as a copy-paste villain with no realistic motivations and no real intrigue.

1.) DRAKE’S APPEARANCE:

Drake is, I think, the character who is best (as in most thoroughly) described in the first book. Not only do we get an idea of his actual appearance beyond the vaguest possible descriptions (sorry to Sam, Caine, Diana and every minor character) but we also get some idea as to the effect his appearance has on other people.

In Chapter 14, when we are first introduced to the Coates kids, Drake is described as, “a smiling, playful, mean-eyed kid with shaggy, sandy-coloured hair.” I actually really like this description. Contrasting “smiling” and “playful” with “mean” really brilliantly sets Drake up to be a complex villain – the kind of villain we all love to hate, who cracks a joke while slitting your throat. It has the implication of a layered personality but sadly, this is not the villain we get. In fact his character in the first chapter compared to the character we get as the book continues is so drastically different that it almost seems like mg did a complete 180 on his character. An original description is supposed to give us some indication as to what a character is like – their personality and role in the story, and we know that mg can do this really well. (Sam’s non-descript description setting him up to be the underdog, Quinn’s mismatched attire hinting at his inability to fit in, Astrid’s colour scheme reflecting her innocence and religiosity), and so it seems particularly odd, not to mention disappointing, that Drake’s description gives us…nothing. No real indication as to who he is or his purpose other than to hint to him being an antagonist (which we already guessed from his affiliation with Caine.) I could go on and on about what a waste Drake’s character was, but I’ll save it for a later paragraph.

We will then skip ahead to Chapter 37 where both Howard and Lana describe a similarity between Drake and Pack Leader:

“The one time she had seen Drake Merwin. He had made her think of Pack Leader: strong, hyper alert, dangerous. Now, the lean physique looked gaunt, the shark’s grin was a tight grimace, his eyes were red-rimmed. His stare, once languidly menacing, was now intense, burning hot. He looked like someone who had been tortured beyond endurance.”

“The two of them, two of a kind, it seemed to Howard, stared holes into each other.”

This is a much better example of mg using descriptions to establish the purpose of a character. By drawing a comparison between these two, mg sets up Drake’s later role in the books, where he replaces Pack Leader as the gaiphage’s right-hand man. This almost leads me to believe that mg had decided very early on that Drake was going to desert Caine and this is possibly why he seems so out of place and underdeveloped as Caine’s underling in the first two books. Mg had already moved on from this side of his character…and it shows. Lana’s description of Drake also works as a basis for showing the reader how he has changed since losing his arm (before gaining his whip) and acts as an insight into his current mental state – which is important as we don’t get much introspection during Drake’s POV’s. But, I still have a few issues with this. First of all, his “lean physique”. Now this isn’t really a problem all by itself, but unless I have forgotten what 14 year olds looks like (which is a possibility though I doubt it) I don’t think that they should be muscly with minimal body fat. And Drake is not the only character he does this with. Quinn gets extremely muscly later on in the books (I’ll admit that there is a plausible reason behind this so this example isn’t terrible but it’s mentioned like every 5 sentences) and in Fear Caine is described as having wash-board abs. Why are we sexualising children?? Children should be pudgy and awkward and still growing into their bodies, not lean and muscly!! The attractive, damaged man who hates women for no reason at all is also a really really really common trope and tbh I’m just so bored of it. It’s not relatable (at least it shouldn’t be) and it’s just really unimaginative – although it does help us to understand Drake’s character as we’ve seen him before so many times in all types of media. My second issue with this description is the way it really really highlights how much of a waste of character Drake was. The potential of a high-school bully with a skewed world-view due to the death of his father and the later abuse of his mother at the hands of his replacement father figure trying hard to impress the charming “leader” with unimaginable power (that he so desperately wants) only to be undermined at every turn by a girl who teases him by pointing out his flaws and insecurities taking his anger out on everyone around him (especially women) as a way to cope with his childhood traumas then turning into a heartless monster who not only enjoys others pain but lives for it after being “tortured beyond endurance”, was astronomical. But we don’t get that. Instead we get a cheesy, one-dimensional cartoon villain. The change that his body and mind go through after his maiming should have been pivotal to his character, but that just doesn’t come across in the writing. :/ But more on this later.

And last but not least, the whip-hand, which is very important to Drake’s character. It turns his actual body into a weapon and his excitement over this is indicative of his sadistic nature. Again, I think this is an example of a wasted opportunity. I would have liked mg to have gone in to depth about how Drake’s body undergoing this change affected his psyche (and I’m not counting his one-off line in the monster trilogy). I think it could be argued that Drake’s “change” is a metaphor for him going through puberty. Him gaining the whip that ultimately turned him into his very own weapon shows his transition from a child [a little messed up but still just a kid] into a monster, someone who is capable of committing atrocities without a second thought. It would have been particularly interesting for Drake and Orc’s final battle to put some focus on the fact that they both suffer through monstrous physical changes that can be used to represent their shift from children to young adults but whereas one relishes in this, one is completely disgusted. The whip-hand is described as being an “impossible blood-red snake” and then that “It was stretched. Like it had been turned into dark, blood-red taffy. It wrapped twice around his body.” – Both of these occurring in Chapter 39. I don’t have much to comment about this – other than that I think red is great colour choice for Drake, thematically at least.

I know this point was mostly about what Drake could have been as opposed to an actual analysis of his appearance, but I’m just so tired of the attractive misogynistic villain that seems to appear in every single piece of media. His characterisation really bummed me out and put me into a slump so instead of analysing his appearance I decided to roast him instead. But, onto actual analysis now (I am going to further expand on some of the points I made here I promise).

2.) DRAKE’S PERSONALITY AND CHARACTER

I mentioned in the previous point that a lot of Drake’s characterisation seems like an afterthought at best and one of the things that made me think this, is the inconsistencies with his character and the most obvious example of this is the discrepancies with his birthday. In chapter 20, Diana says that his birthday is “April twelfth, just one minute after midnight.” But, in Chapter 33 we get the line “Sooner would be better,’ Drake drawled, ‘what with me having a month.” This is a really small nit-pick, I know, but it just really bugs me that mg overlooked something as simple as a birthday – especially when birthdays are such an important plot point in this book. But anyway, moving on. I promise this whole review isn’t going to be negative.

Backtracking now to Chapter 14. Drake’s character here seems to differ quite drastically from his later characterisation. He seems here to be an example of the laughably evil trope, he has a kind of dry sarcastic humour that is quite fun and seems to lighten the tone of the story a little bit. Rather than showing us the boringly disgusting misogynistic villain that Drake turns out to be, we instead see a funny, charismatic character who seems to prefer picking on those who already have power – as is seen here:

“Drake paused halfway, turned back, and spoke for the first time. In an amused voice he said, ‘Oh, um, Captain Orc? Have your people – the ones who aren’t injured- line up outside. We’ll work out your… um, duties.’ With a grin that was almost a snarl, Drake added a cheerful, ‘Later’.” – Chapter 33

Now I understand that the reason we don’t see the real Drake here is because Sam is obviously not yet aware of his true personality – my issue lies in the fact that based on just this small excerpt here, I expected so much more from his character. We get hints of his sadistic nature here, with him joking about Cookie’s horrific injury and clearly taking joy in exerting power over Orc, but it is evenly balanced by the fact that he’s kind of amusing and we don’t really like Orc at this point anyway. Can we see that something isn’t quite right with him?? Yes. But do we kind of like him anyway?? Well I did. At this point. I would have really loved it if mg had carried on this idea of Drake abusing those who already have power – him enjoying to take down bully after bully so he can be King bully, instead of him picking on people who he perceives as weak and vulnerable. Mg relying on misogyny as a motivator is just really disappointing to me because there is no depth to it, and it’s pretty lazy. He hates Diana because she is a woman and he sees women as beneath him?? Weak. Over-used. Dull. He hates Diana because she has power over Caine in a way that he never can, which makes him feel insecure in himself and the fragile sense of stability and power that he has struggled to cultivate within his damaged psyche?? Yes pls. Not only would this have made Drake a much more engaging character, but it would also have made his desertion of Caine in hunger much more impactful. And while I think there are aspects of this within his character, which I will go into later, I wish there had been more of it. Again, I’m sorry that this has become more of a “what could have been” rather than an analysis but there really is just so little to analyse without just pointing out obvious facts and statements. There’s no spice here :/

Moving on now to Chapter 16, where we as an audience, as well as the characters within the book, begin to realise what Drake truly is – an unhinged madman. We are told by Sam that Drake has been abusing his power as Sheriff – which particularly stands out as, so far at least, Drake is the only member of Coates who has shown this kind of behaviour (Caine is actually a pretty sound leader until he loses his shit and attacks Sam). And this is the first major distinction that we get between Caine and Drake and their capacity as villains in the story. Caine is a bad person who will do bad things to achieve his goals, he is power-hungry and ambitious but he is not needlessly violent. Everything he does he (in his own mind) is able to justify as it helps him to achieve his vision. Drake, on the other hand, doesn’t really seem to have an end goal. He is violent for the sake of being violent – he is a sadist who enjoys the suffering of other people as we see here, “Drake was more than a little scary. Kids who defied Drake or any of his so-called sheriff’s had been slapped, punched, pushed, knocked down or, in one case, dragged into a bathroom and given a swirlie. Fear of Drake was replacing fear of the unknown.” Now, we still don’t get to see the full extent of Drake’s madness here. Most of the crimes listed are pretty mundane bully things – they’re still wrong, but they aren’t life-threatening. He hasn’t bashed anyone’s head in with a baseball bat. While Caine is playing with politics, Drake seems unable to move past his role of high school bully. If he had played it right, the role of Sheriff would have been perfect for him. I mean, how many actual police officers get away with literal murder in the name of “upholding the law”?? But he is unable of seeing the bigger picture, unable to grow and fit the new world order as Caine does so naturally, and so, instead of properly taking on the role of Sheriff and building up his own authority in this way, he turns back to his tried and tested method – hurt them and they’ll fall in line.

I particularly enjoy this as I think it explains, a little bit more, why he hates Diana and Astrid so much. Now I know the bottom line is simply that he is a violent misogynist – but that doesn’t explain why he hates Diana and Astrid specifically. Is it because they’re both attractive women and he is unable to distinguish sex and violence in his head?? Partly yes, but then Taylor is also described as attractive (and most people find her annoying) and yet he doesn’t seem to hate her to this extent. I think the real reason he hates these two specifically, more than anyone else, is because he simply cannot understand them – and that scares him (although he is unwilling to admit it). Drake only knows how to gain power through violence – he sees this work at home, he used it on Holden, he used it to gain his reputation at Coates and, although he has the ability to gain authority in other ways, he continues to use this method even now in the FAYZ. Diana and Astrid cannot do this, they are not fit to fight, they are not able to use violence to assert their status – and yet they both have more power in the FAYZ than he does. They make him question his whole world view and, as he cannot or will not adapt to the new hierarchy of the FAYZ, he resorts to trying to destroy them, in order to return the world to what it was before. His hatred of others gaining power through (what he sees as) unconventional means is then further established with his dislike of actual powers and the people who have them:

“I’m sick of all this powers crap. You saw what we did to freaks at Coates?? Who do you think it was that took care of that?? All these kids with their stupid so-called powers. Starting fires and moving stuff around and reading your mind and all?? Who do you think it was grabbed them one by one in their sleep and beat them down and when they woke up their hands were setting in a block of cement??

[…]

That’s right. And I didn’t even have a gun then. It’s not about who’s got powers, morons. It’s about who’s not afraid. And who’s going to do what has to be done.”

We get told by Diana that it was Drake’s idea to cement the kids in the first place (and a bad one at that) and I really think that is all the evidence you need to see that Drake’s hatred and fear all stem from his complete inability to adapt. He is trapped in a cycle of abuse that started with his father, a police officer who teaches him how to shoot people (however unwillingly) and is then continued by his step-father (an actual abuser) rendering him incapable of recognising any kind of authority if it is not gained from violent means. And so of course he hates the powers – none of the kids gained their powers through suffering or through causing suffering. They didn’t earn their authority in any valid way, according to him. (This is also another reason why I think Drake was so ecstatic at gaining his whip-hand. He suffered for it and therefore, in his twisted mind, he earned it. It is physical proof of his supposed power over these kids.) It’s tragic really – but mg then goes on to make him so disgustingly unsympathetic that his story loses its meaning. I love mg’s writing but Drake’s character truly was butchered for shock value and plot convenience and it makes me so sad.

Ok back to Chapter 16. Here, not only do we hear about some of the things that Drake is capable of, but we see them as well. His beat-down of Orc is the first indicator we get that Drake is someone we should really be afraid of. Heads up, this is a long quote:

“Nobody move,’ Drake said. Orc pushed Edilio off and jumped to his feet. He started kicking Edilio, landing size-eleven Nike blows into Edilio’s defensive arms. Sam jumped in to help his friend, but Drake was quicker. He stepped behind Orc, grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back, and smashed his elbow into Orc’s face. Blood poured from Orc’s nose, and he howled in rage. Drake hit him again and released Orc to fall to the concrete. ‘Which part of “nobody move” did you not understand, Orc?’ Drake demanded. Orc rose to his knees and went for Drake like a linebacker, Drake stepped aside, nimble as a matador. He stuck his hand out and said to Chaz, ‘Give me that.’ Chaz handed him the bat. Drake hit Orc in the ribs with a short, sharp forwards thrust of the bat. Then again in the kidneys and again in the side of the head. Each blow was measured, accurate, effective. Orc rolled over on to his back, helpless, exposed. Drake pushed the thick end of the bat against Orc’s throat. ‘Dude. You really need to learn to listen when I talk.’ Then Drake laughed, stepped back, twirled the bat in the air, caught it and rested it on his shoulder. He grinned at Sam.”

“Sam had gone up against bullies before. But he’d never seen anything like Drake Merwin. Orc outweighed Drake by at least fifty pounds, but Drake had handled him like a little toy action figure.”

Orc has already been established as the top bully in Perdido beach – we’ve already seen that our main character is afraid of him – and for good reason. And so for Orc to be defeated so casually and so easily is shocking. It lets us know that the old world order has collapsed and old fears are fading away with it, with new, much more threatening adversaries taking their place. I actually think that this scene was exceptionally clever of mg. Drake is attacking someone who has already been set up as an antagonist, at the same time rescuing Edilio, who the reader has been conditioned to like. But, through context clues, we know that this is not a good thing. It sets up the villainous nature of the Coates kids, Orc’s redemption, Drake and Orc’s rivalry and Sam’s fear of Drake. And it feels natural, even after re-reading the book multiple times. It’s scenes like these that really remind me how great of a writer mg is.

Another thing I really wanted to talk about here IS Drake and Orc’s rivalry because, yet again, I think mg missed a huge opportunity with this. Drake and Orc are very similar before, and in the early days of the FAYZ. Both have abusive fathers (a step-father in Drake’s case but still), both enjoy asserting their power over people through violent means and both are put in positions of power that they are unable to fully take advantage of – Sheriff and Sheriff Deputy. And even as the books continue, similarities can still be found. They both suffer mutations that turn their bodies into grotesque weapons, dehumanising them and alienating them from their peers and That Scene in Plague tells us that Orc and Drake sometimes have similar “desires”. Their stories are constantly intertwined, with them being played off of each other from the start and Orc becoming Drake’s jailor later on (and in turn Drake sort of becoming his). Their differences come from their reactions to the horrific acts of violence they have committed – and of course why they do them. I’m going to make a whole separate post on this because it’s long enough to be a standalone, but my I just wish mg had played up both their similarities and differences more. It would have made Drake so much more interesting.

We also get more hints at his sadism in this scene. He is later unbothered that Betty has been hurt and it seems that the only reason he attacked Orc was because it gave him an opportunity to assert his dominance over him. All in all, this is one of my personal favourite scenes in the book as it establishes characters, themes and relationships very well. I just wish some of these had been developed further – but mg dropping certain aspects of the story does seem to be a common problem.

The final thing I wanted to talk about in regards to Drake’s personality and character is this line we get in Chapter 23, “It was small, just two bedrooms, very neat, very organised, the way Drake liked things.” This was another thing that irked me slightly. It’s such a small aspect of his characterisation but it reinforced the idea that drake is just another cookie-cutter villain with no real personality, nothing that makes him stand out in the sea of white male psychopaths with a hatred for women. His whole character could be replaced with any other misogynistic psychopath at no detriment to the story. My immediate though when reading this was that even the smallest aspects of his character can be seen in other, more developed villains – this line in particular is hugely reminiscent of Patrick Bateman. Nothing seems to be his own. No aspect of his character is even remotely unique. (I think this may also be why some young fans develop an obsession with him. His character is comfortable because we’ve seen it so many times before.) He is so entirely replaceable and replicable - only reason he isn’t completely forgettable is because you are constantly plagued by the horrific things he has done. Mg sacrificed depth and development for shock value and it’s so disappointing

3.) DRAKE’S PAST

Onto Drake’s life before the FAYZ. Not only does Drake receive some of the longest and most POV time in this book, he is also the character whose life before the FAYZ we learn the most about (with the possible exception of Sam). This is especially shocking to think about seen as Drake is arguably one of the most underdeveloped characters in the whole book, but anyway. There are two scenes I’m going to talk about here, both occurring in Chapter 23, with the first being his dad teaching him how to shoot. I apologise in advance for the long quote:

“His father had taught him how to shoot, using his service pistol. Drake still remembered the first time.

[…]

He remembered the way his father had taught him to grip the butt firmly but not too tight. To rest his right hand in the palm of his left and sight carefully, to turn his body sideways to present a smaller target if someone was shooting back. His father had had to yell because they were both wearing ear protection. ‘If you’re target shooting, you centre the front sight in the notch of the rear sights. Raise it till your sights are sitting right under your target. Let your breath out slowly and squeeze.’ That first bang, the recoil, the way the gun jumped six inches, the smell of the powder – it was all as clear in Drake’s mind as any memory he had. […]

‘What if I’m not shooting if I’m not shooting at a target?’ He’d asked his father. ‘What if I’m shooting at a person?’ ‘Don’t shoot a person,’ his father had said. But then he relented, relieved no doubt to find something he could share with his disturbing son. ‘Different people will tell you different techniques. But if it’s me, say I’m doing a traffic stop and I think I see he citizen reaching for a weapon, and I’m thinking I may have to take a quick shot? I just point. Point like the barrel is a sixth finger. You point and if you have to fire, you shoot half the clip, bang, bang, bang, bang.’ ‘Why do you shoot so many times?’ ‘Because if you have to shoot, you shoot to kill. Situation like that, you’re not aiming carefully for his head or his heart, you’re pointing at the centre of mass and you’re hoping you get a lucky shot., but if you don’t, if all you’re hitting is shoulder or belly, the sheer velocity of the rounds will knock him down.”

Ok so the first thing I want to analyse here, is how important this memory clearly is to Drake. He remembers it fondly, in immense detail and seems to call back on it when he needs to clear his head (notice how this memory is placed while Drake is trying to figure out what to do, not while he is doing it.) It seems that rather than just using this memory as a source of useful information, it is also a source of comfort to him. Now there are some things that I really wish mg had told us that would help to analyse this scene better, like: How old was Drake when this memory took place?? How old was Drake when his father died?? How did his father die?? But alas, we don’t know these things (at least not that I’m aware of, and not within this book) so I’m going to try and do the best I can with the information that we have. Now, in Light, Drake makes it seem like his step-fathers behaviour has been significant in forming his worldview – which makes sense, trauma does that. But he spends half of his time away at Coates, which says to me that for this behaviour to have had such a profound effect on him, his step-father must have been around for a while. Right?? I’m gonna take a guess at 3-4 years at the least. Give Drake’s mother about a year to meet and start dating this man after the passing of her husband – this means that Drake would have been around 9/10 at the latest when this scene took place. That’s pretty young. Like, this is a formative memory and from the way it’s written, it seems like this may be some of the only bonding that Drake and his father ever did together. No wonder Drake has such an unhealthy obsession with guns as is seen with these quotes:

“He started from Astrid’s house, which was already beginning to smoke. He worked his way methodically, a hunter, looking for any movement. Each time he spotted someone walking or running or biking, he would take a look at them through the rifle scope, line them up in the crosshairs. He felt like God. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger.” – Chapter 23

“Drake kept all three guns loaded all the time. They were set out on the dining room table, a display, something to be gazed at lovingly.” – Chapter 23

“Drake could not leave the gun alone. He kept thumbing the safety on and off. He rolled down the window and aimed it at stop signs as they passed, but did not fire.” – Chapter 31

Drake shooting Sam and his gleeful reaction – Chapter 34

For him, guns are the ultimate symbol of power and authority. He was introduced to these weapons of incredible power at such a young age – of course he loves them. That being said, it seems that Drake has always been “disturbed” so I suppose we can’t fully blame his father and step-father for his mind-set – and I have to say I don’t really like this. Drake’s issue as a character is that he is completely de-humanised by all the horrific things he does. By having it seem like Drake was irredeemable from the off-set, it just adds to this idea and again removes any possible depth or character development. Imo it would have been much better to present Drake as becoming the way he is AFTER his father’s death. It would bring a sense of tragedy to his character – the way he uses his father’s advice to hunt down Astrid would seem less like a by-product of his sadism and more like a misguided attempt to feel connected to his deceased father.

However, flawed though it is, this scene does give us some insight as to why Drake is the way he is – through the characterisation of his father. Admittedly we don’t get much, but one line really stood out to me, “Because if you have to shoot, you shoot to kill.” Ummm..sir?? I don’t think that’s how police officers work. Isn’t your goal to incapacitate – not to just kill on sight?? The fact that he not only stands by this rule himself, but also gives this advice to his CHILD is disconcerting. Drake is not only receiving this harmful rhetoric from his father figure but also a police officer. Someone who is meant to uphold the law. I think this links back to my earlier point on how Drake only recognises authority if it is gained by violent means. While we get no indication that his real father was ever violent to Drake or his mother, he openly tells Drake that when he is upholding the law (in this hypothetical situation) he does it by using force. That is a dangerous thing to tell a child, especially a child who you already think is disturbed. This twisted-take on a father-son relationship nicely sets the precedent for Drake’s warped perceptions, I just wish it had been developed further. And this leads us nicely into the next scene – the shooting of Holden:

“He remembered with vivid, slow-motion detail the time he had shot Holden, the neighbour’s kid who liked to come over and annoy him. That had been a bullet to the thigh, with a low-level calibre gun, and still the kid had nearly died. That ‘accident’ had landed Drake at Coates.”

Again, first and foremost I just wish we had a little bit more information. It is not clear whether this situation occurred before or after his father’s death – which seems like a pretty important detail to me. Although, we don’t actually find out that Drake’s father is dead within this book, and this omission again makes me feel like mg adding that detail was little more than an after-thought. It feels like in Light he wanted to quickly try and make Drake more of a sympathetic character and so he added in an abusive step-dad to try and tone down or at least explain Drake’s violence and misogyny. It seems like Drake is a plot-point first and a character second and the lack of detail here really highlights that for me. What purpose did these scenes really have in the story?? They did very little to flesh out his character, they introduced no new themes or relationships. It seems like mg just wanted to let us know – “Hey! Drake knows how to use a gun. That’s gonna be important later.” That being said, there are a couple of other things I would like to quickly mention. Firstly, I think the fact that Drake did not aim to kill Holden, even though he could have, is meant to be indicative of his change between then and now. It’s done to tell us that Drake wasn’t always this bad – there was at one point some hope. For this to have the desired effect though, I really think mg should have waited until after Drake lost his arm to straight up try and murder Astrid and Little Pete. Like, you can’t tell us that Drake was a little messed up but still redeemable before his maiming and then go and have him try to kill a random girl and her five year old brother. Because that’s more than a little messed up (and that’s not even mentioning the cementing). And it also contrasts the idea that Drake has always been disturbed. An idea that was introduced to us not even a page ago!! The other thing I wanted to pick up on, which I actually quite liked, is the ambiguous “who liked to come over and annoy him.” Because this is Drake’s point of view – so “annoy” could mean anything. Was Holden actually just an annoying kid?? Was he just trying to be Drake’s friend?? Or was he actually a bully and Drake doesn’t want to admit it?? I guess we’ll never know.

4.) DRAK’ES MOTIVATIONS

For this point, I wanted to focus on three particular motivators: Caine, Diana and Astrid. These are the three people, I believe, who provide, either consciously or unconsciously, the motivation for his actions within the FAYZ. I’ll start first with Astrid and Diana, the two people who Drake hates the most. Throughout this book it is clear that Drake has no real goals – he has no desire to be in control like Caine, no desire to re-invent the world like Albert. All he wants is to cause pain, with his preferred targets being these two. And, as I’ve said before, I think this is partly because he hates the authority that they have within the FAYZ – which stems from manipulation and intelligence rather than violence.

In Chapter 20, Drake explains his hatred for Diana, “Drake had made the time to check out Diana’s psych file the day after the FAYZ came. But her file had been missing by then. In its place she had left Drake’s file lying open on the doc’s desk and drawn a little smiley face beside the word ‘sadist’. Drake had already hated her. But after that, hating Diana had become a full-time occupation.” What I take from this scene, is that Drake’s loathing stems from Diana’s ability to get under his skin, to make him feel inferior – to annoy him. (Perhaps Holden had a similar talent). I’m going to assume that his prior hatred of her can be boiled down to his misogyny and his disgust at Caine’s weakness for her, both of which have been explicitly stated in the text. His hatred after this though, comes from a pretty mundane incident. I mean all she did was get there quicker, and do exactly what he was going to do to her. And so I think this loathing is less about what she did and more about his own personal reaction to it. Diana was able to weaponise Drake’s own anger against him – to make him feel inferior and powerless. She challenges Drake’s fragile perception of authority and takes a diagnosis that he seems to not only be ok with, but is actually proud of, and makes him feel embarrassed. His whole perception of power is rooted in the idea that his ability to inflict pain on others with no guilt or remorse is what makes him better, it is what gives him his power. But she takes this idea and belittles him for it and so his initial reaction is to attack. This is an idea that is again seen with Astrid. Astrid intentionally tries to make Drake feel inferior by bringing up his biggest insecurity, Diana’s treatment of him “Doesn’t it bother you that Diana treats you like some wild animal she keeps on a leash?” And she does escape him – twice. Her and her autistic brother (and we already know how Drake feels about autistic people). She also proves herself to be more intelligent than him, in their little argument over the r-slur. Drake only gets violent after he realises that, in an intellectual sense, she has more power than him. It seems to be his defence mechanism just as much as his pleasure – and therefore Astrid and Diana’s power over him motivates him to use it.

Now onto Caine. Caine and Drake’s relationship is, for me, one of the most interesting aspects of Drake’s character and while I’ll only be mentioning it in its capacity as a motivator here, I have a whole post planed out for it. Drake seems to simultaneously hate Caine and admire him. He is constantly looking to impress him and the only time we ever see Drake think about betraying him in this book is when Caine gives his attention to Diana rather than Drake. And, because of this, I can kind of understand why people ship them (although I personally dislike the idea of Drake being gay). A lot of the time this motivation is completely unprompted by Caine himself, like in these quotes:

“Drake cursed and, again, for just a moment, felt the almost desperate fear of failing Caine. He wasn’t worried about what Caine would do to him – after all, Caine needed him – but he knew if he failed to carry out Caine’s orders, Diana would laugh.” – Chapter 23

“I got him’ Drake announced. ‘I got them all.’ ‘Yes, you did,’ Caine said. ‘Good work, Drake.” – Chapter 34

In Chapter 23, it seems that both Drake’s need to impress Caine and his need to prove to himself that he is better than Diana are his main motivators for his extreme attack on Astrid. I think it’s important to note that he only planned on trying to catch her, until Caine told him to kill her. His sadistic nature is brought out in full because he needs to prove himself to Caine. But why does he?? If he is planning on taking over from Caine in the end, why does he have a “desperate fear of failing Caine”?? Sure, part of it is his desire to prove himself to be better than Diana. But even this has roots in his absolute need for Caine to take notice of him. Drake is drawn to Caine because of his power and authority over people. Caine seems to be the closest thing that Drake can get to an equal, someone who shares the same motivations, ambitions and worldview (of course Caine and Drake do not share these things, but Drake doesn’t realise this…yet.) He seeks validation from Caine because he wants to have these things in common with someone – yet another motivation for his hatred of Diana as she constantly gets in the way of this.

We also know that Caine is, at least, partly aware of his effect on Drake. He is paranoid that Drake will turn on him (because Caine sees being equal to someone as relinquishing power) and he is able to manipulate Drake’s misguided feelings when he wants to – most notably in Chapter 36:

“It’s not Diana or Chunk or even me,’ Caine said. ‘It’s none of us, Drake. It’s Sam. It’s Sam who did this to you, Drake. You want him to get away with it? Or do you want to live long enough to make him suffer?”

This is such a clever moments as it sets up Drake’s whole character in Hunger, and it’s false. Because yes, Sam is the one who burned Drake’s arm and Drake has every right and reason to hate him. But it was Caine who abandoned him to save himself. And it was Caine who refused to let Drake die, even though he was begging for it (and let’s face it, he didn’t refuse to kill him out of any affection – it was a selfish decision.) But Drake is so desperate for that equal, for that validation that his worldview is correct and is shared by another person, that he just idk forgets?? He never brings up this conversation again and just accepts Caine’s word as gospel. I have so much more to say about their relationship but, as I said, I’ll save it for a later post.

5.) DRAKE’S MENTAL STATE

And finally, we have Drake’s mental state. Now I’m not going to try and give him an official diagnosis or anything, but I wanted to make a small point specifically about his mental state after his maiming. I think we can all agree that what Drake went through was pretty horrific, and while I personally struggle to feel any amount of sympathy for him due his own list of horrific crimes, the change he goes through after this is extremely significant, or at least it’s supposed to be. I think mg wants us to believe that Drake’s descent into madness was directly cause by the loss of his arm, and that before that he did have the chance to be redeemed. I think whether you buy into this depends on how forgiving you are, but I want to focus more on the actual proof of change that we see.

I’ve already talked about the physical changes he goes through, and the implications of this so I’m going to focus solely on his mental state during and partly after the whole ordeal. I think the first and most important thing to talk about is the fact that Drake didn’t actually want to survive:

“Don’t cut off my arm,’ Drake cried. ‘Let me die. Just let me die. Shoot me.” – Chapter 36

He would rather die than lose his arm (his gun arm to be specific). Now, while I don’t doubt that the burning was indescribably painful, I’m still not sure that the majority of people would beg for death. Especially when an alternative (in this case losing his arm) is presented. Not to mention, he doesn’t actually talk about the pain when begging for his death – what he talks about is the loss of his arm. Of course it could be argued that the reason he didn’t want his arm to be cut off is because he knew it would mean more pain, but I don’t think that this is the case. Rather, I think that Drake is so scared of losing the power that he has, that he would genuinely rather die. This 14 year old boy is so messed up that his own death is preferable to the idea of no longer being able to hurt people. And so when he gets his power back, he doubles down. He has realised by this point what he truly wants, that he would rather die than be rendered powerless, so he begins committing more heinous acts (like attacking the prees). Pair this with the amount of pain that he went through, which most definitely will have had an effect on his already damaged brain, and you can see how a high-school bully became what he did. The groundwork for an interesting and though-provoking character was right here. I think yet again the problem with his character is the execution. Interesting aspects of his personality are dropped in favour of plot convenience and shock value and it cheapens his character as a whole until all the intended nuances are lost and over-shadowed.

I’m really sorry if this is a bit all over the place and not quite as polished as my other posts. I found Drake so difficult to write about and so my thoughts kept going haywire. Thank you so much for reading (and being patient with my brain). I hope you enjoy!!

#the gone series #Drake Merwin #character analysis #gone

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aspoonofsugar · 5 years ago

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Nen and Characters: Morel and Knov

Morel and Knov, just like Knuckle and Shoot, are an older version of Gon and Killua. In other words, they are partners who efficiently complement each other and they have similar traits to respectively Gon (Morel) and Killua (Knov).

It is interesting to compare these three generations of partners. As a matter of fact both Knuckle and Shoot overcome their flaws/make progress, while, in Gon and Killua’s case, Killua grows, but Gon almost dies because of his unsolved issues. Finally, Knov is not able to face his flaw and leaves Morel to struggle alone:

It is as if the three couples of hunters offer different outcomes to the same kind of dynamic. In the meta about Knuckle and Shoot, I have written about the younger generations:

Shoot is meant to stay level-headed and to stop Knuckle from doing stupid things. This is how their partnership works, but here he completely gives up the role he is supposed to have and is simply honest with his friend. He feels humiliated by the fact that his opponent has not shown any respect for him and he wants Knuckle to avenge him because of this. It is not logical and it is surely not what Knuckle should do, but it is still what Shoot feels and this is why it is important for him to convey it and to make it known.

Shoot’s choice is the opposite of Killua. As a matter of fact Killua too has a moment where he has to choose if to be honest with a friend or to repress his feelings for the sake of the mission and he chooses to keep silent and not to convey how he feels to Gon. This ends up taking a toll on Killua and on his dynamic with Gon. He acts the best he can and avoids the mission to be compromised, but he also loses a chance to communicate with his friend and this leads to the both of them suffering later on.

Shoot’s choice to share his emotions with Knuckle might have been irrational and might have led Knuckle to put himself in danger, but is also something which strengthens the bonds between the two.

In this meta, the focus will be on the older one, so Knov, Morel and their bond will be analyzed.

KNOV: THE WORLD FROM A WINDOW

Knov’s ability is called Hide and Seek (Fourth-Dimensional Mansion) and it says several things about the character.

First of all, its name perfectly describes what Knov does during the Palace Invasion. He basically spends the whole mission hiding from the ants and bringing his comrades to the safety zone once they are too wounded to keep going.

Secondly, it conveys Knov’s contradictions. As a matter of fact Fourth-Dimensional Mansion is a teleportation ability which conjures a home.

On one hand Knov can move both himself and others. It would appear that this power is built around the idea of bringing a little bit of every place one has been home. This seems confirmed by the fact that Knov’s portals can be open only in places he has visited himself.

On the other hand it was shown that Knov would use his power to drag people inside the mansion aka a place he is comfortable with, so that they can be imprisoned and killed:

In short, Knov’s ability seems to superficially represent freedom of movement, but it actually hides within itself Knov’s need of a comfort zone. Knov can go everywhere he has already visited, but he always takes a break home while doing so:

This need is at the root of Knov’s breakdown:

As a matter of fact Knov is a victim of his own words:

He tells Killua that people tend to overestimate what they can’t comprehend. This is essentially what he does when he experiences the Royal Guards’ aura. As a matter of fact Knov is the character who has the worst reaction to the ants in general. Let’s highlight that the story makes clear that the ants are both monstruous and human. Whoever sees only one side of them is wrong. This is made clear by characters like Gon and Knuckle. On one hand Gon only sees Pitou as a monster and is distressed when he sees evidence of the contrary. On the other hand Knuckle’ s ideal of solving the conflict peacefully is naive and he must give up on it.

In short, the ants have a mix of negative and positive traits, just like the humans. Knov is a character who only sees one part of them and he is not able to face them and to better comprehend them:

It is not by chance that he is the one countering Knuckle’ s line of thought. It does not matter if Knuckle forged a bond with Youpi. This bond is destined to be broken because Youpi has a monstruous side which is unescapable. Knov does not care that what he has just described (a person hating someone who has hurt a loved one) is the same personality trait multiple human characters have.

Knov is too scared to see the ants as people and is stuck with the image he has of them as monsters. This is why he is not able to progress. All in all, Knov is a character who is not good at facing “otherness”:

This is mentioned even recently. Knov is the paradox of a hunter with a perfect ability to explore the unknown, but who is too scared to do it.

At the same time, him calling Killua out only to end up worse than him is important because Knov shares Killua’s flaw. In a sense, Knov is who Killua is scared of becoming:

Knov is a person who runs away because of fear and leaves his loved ones behind. He does not go to save Palm and lets Morel fight a monster alone. This is exactly what multiple mentor figures have told Killua he should not be like. However, the way Knov’s story plays out in the CAA suggests something interesting:

First of all, even if Knov is not able to fight, he still comes back to the palace to save his comrades. His breakdown does not stop him from saving Shoot and Morel. Later on, he also does his best to save Gon. So, him having limits as a person does not make him a bad friend, but only a human being. Different people have different breaking points. This does not make them unworthy of friendship and love.

This is also supported by others’ reaction to Knov. Nobody resents him and everyone appreciates his help in the mission. In the end, Knov’s bonds with others are not broken by his flaws:

MOREL: THE ACT OF LIVING

Deep Purple lets Morel change his aura in smoke with the help of his giant pipe. Once he does so, he can obtain different shapes and effects by manipulating the smoke itself.

It is a rather simple power, but it is also extremely flexible. In a sense, Morel, with the act of breathing (so with the act of living), changes a part of himself into multiple different things. This ability fits well in an arc about human potential because it conveys the persistence and creativity of humans. It might not be the strongest power ever, but it is still practical and adaptive. Moreover, if there is something Morel has shown he can do is to adapt to different situations. Knov always needs a familiar place nearby to feel safe, but Morel does not.

This difference is highlighted also by their fighting styles. On one hand Knov is not above using his house as a trap for his enemies. On the other hand Morel often ends up trapped in enclosed spaces by his enemies:

This is what happens both when Morel fights Cheetu and when he is up against Leol. Both times Morel is able to turn the tables and to win. These two battles can actually be read as representations of larger conflicts in a nutshell. In short, they can be seen as simplified explorations of the themes and the more complex dynamics of the arc.

Firstly, Morel’s battle with Cheetu is paralleled with Meruem and Komugi’s gungi game:

Both competitions have the chimera ant apparently take the lead. On one hand Meruem comes up with Kokoriko. On the other hand Cheetu successfully traps Morel in a game of tag. What is more, he is also able to use a new power to escape a dire situation. However, both Komugi and Morel are able to easily win because they have more experience than their opponents. Komugi explains she herself had invented Meruem’s move and a way to counter it. Morel shows Cheety how naive he is and how is using his own talents in the wrong way.

When it comes to Morel and Cheetu, it is interesting how they part in somehow friendly terms:

In a sense, Morel acts as some kind of mentor to Cheetu despite the two of them being enemies. This is strengthened by Cheetu being portrayed as childish and naive. The story makes clear he has talents he could use, but he is too immature to properly express them. Despite Morel’s advice, Cheetu is not able to overcome his flaws and ths is why he dies before being able to show his new ability. Both times he fights, Cheetu is not able to finalize his ability.

In summary, Morel’s fight with Cheetu shows two things.

a) The hunter’s strength lies in his intelligence and experience. This ability to evolve and to face unforeseen circumstances is among the qualities, which will lead to the victory of humanity.

b) Morel is a mentor figure to the point that he ends up mentoring even an opponent.

What about his fight against Leol?

Leol, differently from Cheetu, is framed as an equal to Morel:

Morel looks forward to the fight precisely because he recognizes Leol’s power and respects him as an opponent. This is highlighted also by Morel and Leol sharing similar musical tastes:

In other words, Morel more or less consciously sees humanity in Leol and this is why he is able to enjoy his fight with him. However, things change when he discovers Leol is using his friend’s power:

In this moment, Morel decides Leol has to die. What is ironic is that we, as readers, know Leol’s power is not even about stealing abilities, but it is about borrowing them. All in all, it is not even an ability too damaging to its victim. Despite this, Morel becomes more determined to kill Leol once he discovers he has targeted one of Morel’s loved ones.

This is basically what will happen with Youpi later on, even if the parts will be inverted. The Royal Guard will grow to respect his opponents, but he will later on refuse these feelings when his King is almost killed.

In short, Morel and Leol’s fight foreshadows how the conflict between humans and ants will end. After all, Leol himself is on of the “fake kings” who are trying to take Meruem’s place, so his defeat can be read as an anticipation of Meruem’s one. In particular, the two opponents’ conflict shows how complicated the relationships between ants and humans are. Even when the individuals show respect for each other, these emotions can be easily overridden by hate when loved ones are in danger. Finally, the difficult reconciliation between the two species is shown also by the way the fight ends:

Morel wins and kills Leol just by breathing. This means that the two species are destined to fight each other to the death just to be able to survive. There is simply not enough “air” for both.

Of course this happens because of how the world works:

Morel himself is frustrated by some of these laws, which go against his feelings and chain him to duty. He wants to act to save the people killed by the ants, but he must wait for the Palace Invasion, in order to maximize the chances of success. This necessity to chain one-self to duty is something which reaches its climax in Morel’s fight against Pouf:

Interestingly, this is the only one of Morel’s fghts where he is the one trapping his opponent and not the other way around. However, Morel is trapping himself as well:

But, in the end, he chooses his feelings for his mentees and lets go of Pouf. He might have done the wrong thing strategically and loses his weapon. Still, he is able to save Knuckle just in time and to fight freely.

In conclusion, Morel represents the best of humanity. He has all the positive qualities celebrated in the CAA. He is resourceful and able to learn. What is more, he greatly values his comrades.

This last trait is also ironically what goes in the way of him bonding with his opponents. This is interesting and contradictive. Bonds with others can both help in overcoming differences, but can also make these differences deeper. Like Knov has stated, people may become monsters for the people they love.

SUCCESSES AND FAILURES OF THE OLD GENERATION

Knov and Morel are two adults and as such they are in a different point of their lives from our protagonists. This has both advantages and disadvantages.

On one hand they have a more solid sense of identity, like Morel. On the other hand, they struggle more to face their flaws, like Knov.

However, they are also stable enough that they can accept each other’s shortcomings without entering in a conflict. While both Knuckle/Shoot and Gon/Killua change their dynamic during the mission, Knov and Morel’s one is solid enough not to be modified by the experiences they live. It is a bond strong enough to support them both.

At the same time, as adults, Knov and Morel are less free than Gon and Killua. Gon and Killua act to change things they disagree with, like the association’s decision to sacrifice thousands of people. Knov and Morel are too conditioned to accept such sacrifices, even if they dislike them.

Finally, it is interesting that both Morel and Knov do a lot in the beginning, but leave the mission early. It is as if their role is to prepare the terrain for their students who will succeed in completing the mission.

Thank you for reading!

If you are interested in other analysis of HxH characters through their nen abilities here is a list of the ones I wrote up until now:

-Nanika

-Kurapika and Chrollo

-Killua and Illumi

-Gon and Hisoka

-Meruem and Komugi

-Palm Siberia

-Neon Nostrade

-Neferpitou and Shaiapouf

-Kachou and Fugetsu

-Menthuthuyoupi

-Ikalgo and Welfin

-Knuckle and Shoot

-Razor and Genthru

-Pakunoda, Senritsu and Biscuit

#hxh #hxh meta #morel mackernasey #knov #nen and characters #caa arc #my meta

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