#a trope I do not at all understand but am perfectly willing to roll with for feelings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunelantern · 4 years

Text

~~~Sasuke and Sakura are neither

TOXIC nor ABUSIVE~~~

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️🌩️🌩️🌩️🌩️💞💞🌩️🌩️🌩️🌩️🌩️💞💞💞💞🌩️🌩️🌩️

[... In response to "Sasusaku is toxic

/abusive" trope]

While I do respect every individual's legitimate right and entitlement to freedom of expression - - everyone is free to like or dislike hate or love something - - I feel that there is a popular misconception that's been segregating through the millieu of the critics of the Sasusaku pair which begs to be cleared.

Touting sasusaku as "toxic or abusive" comprises one of the most cliché popular catchphrase to counter argue against this pair and it denotes superficial, unsophisticated and inconsequential understanding of the characters' inner construction and manga symbolism.

Common logic lets us ample room to explore beyond reasonable doubt the repertoire of this absurd stereotype for, in order to be dubbed as "toxic or abusive", this relationship must meet THREE sine qua non criteria:

1. Sasuke and Sakura must BE in a relationship;

2. Sasuke and sakura must have a RELATIONSHIP;

3. Sasuke and Sakura's relationship must be ABUSIVE/TOXIC.

A single aperçu of the three aforementioned criteria that have to be met simultaneously is irrefragible for any argument in favor of "abusive or toxic relationship" for it's crystal clear that the Sasusaku couple dynamics does not validate any of the three.

A Cartesian analysis of the three conditions supported by descriptive manga examples would further emphasize that Sasuke and sakura are a far cry from abusive or toxic.

1 & 2) Common logic postulates that, in order to be ascribed to a certain condition or situation, you overtly must BE in that situation or must take part in that situation or must be an ACTOR of that situation. For instance, in order to take your spouse's surname after marriage you must be married first.

Years prior his long stroll to soul and honor redemption, sasuke and sakura are in NO RELATIONSHIP whatsoever.

Sasuke himself whisks away any wasp of looming confusion in front of the Gates of the Leaf that he does not desire Sakura's companionship because this is "MY journey to redemption and MY sins have nothing to do with YOU", implying that he KNOWS what Sakura desires and expects from him and his current self cannot give her what she wants.

Sasuke's shenanigans won him the title of a disimpassioned untutored novice in the art of intimacy and romance, which isn't the case.

Sasuke is perfectly aware of what romantic love and intimacy entitled and his actions speak for themselves; he bluntly and expressively brushes off any extraneous attempt at luscious and sensuous flirt from women - - which are overflowing in the manga - - and utters words from the same semantics when he refers to Sakura, with such implacable bluntness and confidence that sends shivers rolling along our spines - - he placates Kakashi's desperate words with a forward "play at ROMANCE" and "I don't have a reason to LOVE her and she doesn't have a reason to LOVE me". His words are explicit, uncensored, forward and crystal clear.

Sasuke knows what Sakura desires from him in the cusp of romantic love; she desires his heart as devolution and communion, and she desires his body as intimate caress. He acknowledged and accepts Sakura's romantic feelings, but the he doesn't surrender himself to her as long as he considers himself UNWORTHY and completely unprepared to respond.

Conclusively, Sasuke and Sakura officialize their relationship and ARE in a relationship from the moment when both the leading parties are WORTHY, willing and prepared to give each other the love and respect that they both deserve and seek for.

So, in order to be considered as a leading party of an abusive relationship, one must BE part of that relationship first-hand.

Which means that the first criteria to be met is that Sasuke and Sakura must BE in a relationship.

Now, reviewing Sasuke's sophistic and philosophical construction as the Schopenhauer-ish stylized anti-hero and the paradigm of nihilism/pessimism - - the Yin part of the Manga and its political doctrine - - his sensuous manga dynamics wending through the lights and shadows of fulminant and conflicting psychological and philosophical turmoil and imbroglios makes Sasuke's character difficult to grasp for the large audience.

Because it's difficult to identify with an anti-hero that pulverizes all the hive mentalities and society's stereotypes. Sasuke is complex, is analytical and introspection must be used for revealing the exuberant depths of this complex character.

Sasuke's ambivalent and expressive radical actions can easily be mistake for active and passive aggressiveness but this isn't the case with Sakura.

I dare to venture as far as to contend that Sasuke and Sakura have never been friends. While Sakura's symbolism and character development denotes romantic love and intimacy in her heart-tucking passionate surrender and boundariless affection, Sasuke thinks of his bind with Team seven as the pilifered picturesque portrait of his family, with naruto in the shoes of a brother, Kakashi as the fatherly figure of mentorship and Sakura's ineffable crystal romantic love and devotion as the pillar figure of matriarch/a wife.

Neither Sakura nor Sasuke ever saw each other through the platonic prism of friendship, not even during the forced cohabitation of Team 7.

Sasuke's in instinctive laconic, terse and breviloquent attitude is erroneously mistaken for aggressiveness which only demonstrates improper understanding of his manga symbolism.

Not only Uchiha Sasuke is the paradigm of the Left wing of the manga's two political doctrines and the pioneer of nihilism or pessimism as a philosophical movement, but he also embodies the condition of the GENIUS. The self-reflective philosopher, the thinker, the introspective brilliant mind who's conniption and kinesics are often misread by normal people.

Part 1 Sasuke parts ways with Sakura in a completely idillic picturesque scenery that overflows with pure emotion and intimacy as it suggests that the two lay their farewells as lovers.

During their interactions, Sasuke's kinesics have always been dulcet, more tempered, softer and more suave with Sakura.

She managed to steal from him rare moments of sweetness and affection, culminating with two meaningful words from the elusive and introvert Sasuke which are illustrative for his overt fondness and gratitude for this girl's feelings - - he said "thank you" from the bottom of his heart.

And parted on good terms as Sasuke leaves the village (thus he turns against the current political ninja system) and starts his sojourn through the maze of life's tumult that's sprinkled with cruel and brutal faces of the ugly reality of the world (he steps out of the comfort zone and security of the village and experiences real life).

It also marks the young boy's end of childhoods blissful innocence and the bloom of puberty.

Now, from between these two milestone moments that harmoniously and symmetrically conclude the philosophy of the manga, (Sasuke's departure in Part 1; the Sign of Reconciliation after Sasuke and Naruto's battle of ideologies), Sasuke's soohistic character finds its fulminant paintbrushing with lights and shadows and his symbolic actions crayon the tragic exuberance of his anti-hero dynamics and development.

He and Sakura are absolute STRANGERS while Sasuke's character unfolds in all the splendor of his complex glory. They are in no relationship whatsoever.

The tragi-comedy of this tumultuous pair is that Sasuke HIMSELF makes it perfectly clear what he and Sakura are with illustrative and more than self-sufficient phrases: "I am a FORMER Team 7 member", "I am NOT part of this team anymore" and even going as far as to acknowledge Sai's renewed role as "my REPLACEMENT".

Moreover, after Sasuke's conjecture affiliation with Akatsuki, he and Sakura can be officially considered enemies and both act accordingly. Sasuke becomes an international criminal under the direct order to be annihilated in the spot. Sakura, as a faithful shinobi that's fully committed to the military discipline of her job launches to eliminate Sasuke as per order of her superiors while Sasuke obviously retaliates in self-defense.

Sasuke and Sakura, by the time Sasuke's character unfurles uncensored in all the full splendor of his lights and shadows, DON'T find themselves in a relationship and they share NO RELATIONSHIP whatsoever. NONE!

As a pair, Sasuke and Sakura made amends with their romantic feelings in part 1 before their departure and they KNOW it. Sasuke tries to sever his past bonds and start anew and Sakura tries to do just as so and both FAIL.

Which annuls the seemingly assertion that Sakura herself acts like she's trapped into a twisted variation of the Stockholm syndrome (then victim starts to feel fondly for her captor and even acquiesces to his mentality, as a consequence of the brain's innate copying response calls for the development of a mechanism of defense).

And even if suppressed and denied, feelings churn deep inside their hearts, even if their heated stares and honey-poison infused words barely makes their inner tempest, officially and how they ACT makes it perfectly clear that are NOTHING to each other. To ARE NOT in a relationship and they have NO RELATIONSHIP.

Which automatically invalidates that Sasusaku are overall in a toxic relationship.

3) Let's consider the semantics of Toxic and abusive relationship.

Because both the concepts borderline the crimes and felonies in the Criminal Codes, it's imperative to postulate that the two refer to psychological and physical REPEATED actions that are meant to subdue and quench the victim's freedom and Will (sexual freedom, freedom of speech, of expression, of movement...).

Abuse can be both physical and psychological with actions to sustain and reveal that the victim is subjected to regular abuse (the crime is repetitive and habitual) with the purpose of INFLICTING TERROR, fear and coercition.

The victim of abuse is terrified as she undergoes major psychological trauma, in response to the violent and COERCITIVE actions of the one who abuses her.

Abuse is defined as inflicting pain, teror, fear, to subdue, to surmount and crush the freedom of spirit, to prevent the victim to manifest and take action, to denigrate the spirit and transgress fundamental human rights, which are all grave crimes punishable by the Criminal legislations.

The victim is weakened and terrorized, she fears the one who abuses her and she finds herself in the illusory trap of the Stockholm syndrome in order to develop a copying mechanism to ensure the physical and psychological trauma and survive.

Where exactly does the Manga depict such distraught, coercitive and abusive behavioral traits in regards to Sasuke and Sakura as an official COUPLE?

Nowhere, naturally.

Whenever Sasuke and Sakura physically or psychologically clashed, they were both in their roles of shinobi/enemies. They never violently collided as lovers.

Sasuke and Sakura are both prideful full-fledged shinobi, understanding perfectly well the inner conflict and the displayed course of actions that this dichotomy entitles.

When in the shoes of the shinobi, personal feelings must be set aside. They both know it. Sakura and Sasuke, even if they love ecah other romantically, they must forgo their feelings in lieu of assuming their role as the shinobi.

Plus, Sakura is not depicted as bring feareful of Sasuke, au contraire she lunges onwards and alone with total intent to kill him. That's antithetical to how a victim of abuse acts.

She's confident in her skills, she's calm, analytical, level-headed, lucid, determined, strong, and mentally not feareful of Sasuke. She doesn't fear him even though his reputation strikes terror amidst the general audience.

She doesn't even wavers before him after she learns that he faced 5 Kage and killed the shrawdy enigmatic Shimura Danzo! What makes Sakura falter is the product of genuine love, not abuse or fear.

Sasuke doesn't repeatedly try to strike fear or coerce Sakura, he doesn't corner her, he doesn't try to abuse her mentally or physically, he doesn't enslave her. He only retails accordingly. His words or actions invalidate any form of abuse.

They are both shinobi, they acknowledge each other's skills and act accordingly. Neither abuses the other one in any way.

Now, I can imagine how this wrong assertion could work, namely, if one would claim that their relationship is GROUNDED and constructed on the shaky foundation of a FORMER/PAST of abuse and violence, pain and remorse, guilt and terror,reviwing upon Sasuke's character dynamic and Sakura's unwavering devotion that's indomitable and candid.

Once could quest how could a couple work a peaceful and healthy relationship if they have a tempestous stained HISTORY of abuse?

The philosophy of the Manga makes it work for two valid reasons:

1. Sasuke and Sakura do not have a hystory of abuse and terror because of their dual role as human beings and shinobi and their clashes and virulent encounters are presented in the light of shinobi / warriors just like two soldiers of opposing battle forces;

2. The moral of Naruto manga is centered around redemption and forgiveness; Naruto makes it clear they one cannot erase his past self or cut his own bonds and history no matter how sinfully tragic or stained because history is what gives us identity and shape our character and peace can never be achieved if we don't acknowledge each other's pain (pain that's derived from that very painful history of sin and tumult). Naruto manga suggests that, in order for a bond of peace and tranquil cohabitation to work, it is absolutely imperative to accept someone's past. In this case, a redeemed past.

We have the criminal rehabilitation in the Criminal Code which means that the effects of a conviction and the additional penalties are extincted when certain criteria are met.

And Sasuke already atoned for his crimes, both legally and metaphorically, before becoming Sakura's official lover.

Denying that Sasuke and Sakura now a happy married couple ARE abusive or toxic or they ground their marriage on a toxic HISTORY is invalidated by the fact that Sasuke redeemed himself in the eyes of the law, in the eyes of the audience and Naruto Manga promotes the acceptance of one's past as the sole way to make amends and exist in peaceful cohabitation.

How could one reach to someone's heart if he doesn't understand his soul and the source of his pain? And the kernel of both lies in his past, his history.

I can safely postulate that Sasuke gave himself willingly, happily and serenly to Sakura when he was absolutely sure that he is the best version of himself; the one who could give her what she wants and what she deserves. And surrendered to her endless love and devotion.

He asked for forgiveness for his actions (which implied asking forgiveness for not being able to properly reward her love and immense devotion) and Sakura forgave him, he made amends with his past, he reconcilliated with the shinobi world, he offered his services to the greater good of the community, he legally rehabilitated himself for the crimes, he received legal pardon for his crimes.

In the end, I'd conclude that Sasusaku's sole flaw is the embodiment of the human nature itself, with its qualities and flaws, lights and shadows. This pair is human, is strikingly realistic and not exceedingly romanticized to pander to the general audience.

Sasusaku's realistic aphorism stems from its uncensored life situations and the unveiled manner of transposing real-life situations into the fictional work of Naruto Universe, where idealism wins over realism, nihilism and totalitarianism.

Sasuke and Sakura are illustrative for any real life couple's dynamics. Every couple and marriage no matter how solid has its arguments and no human bond is inheritnetly perfect.

Perfect marriages are an utopia but it's exactly the way the parties chose to overcome their crisis and differences that makes a difference. And Sasusaku is a picture frame perfect of a realistic couple dynamics with its differences and shortcomings.

I'd cite Hegel's famous book and state that SasuSaku is the unconquearable proof that the paradox of every sentient being's actions and ambitions lies in the fact that we are all just "human, all too human".

#Sasusaku #Sasuke #Sakura #Sasusaku is not toxic #Sasusaku is not abusive #Supporting sasusaku #Sasusaku pair analysis #Defending sasusaku #Sasusaku relationship explained #Sasusaku couple

37 notes · View notes

atamascolily · 4 years

Text

AND ANOTHER THING

So I’m putting together a timeline for the Star Wars Sequel trilogy based on Wookiepeedia, and I noticed some things:

5 ABY - Ben Solo born (conceived after Battle of Endor, yikes). 15 ABY - Rey born. 10-year-old Ben Solo begins training with Luke.

28 ABY -Ben is 23. He learns the truth about his heritage when Leia is ousted in a political scandal. Destruction of Jedi Temple. Ben turns to the dark and becomes Kylo. Luke goes into exile (???). 34 ABY [six years later] - Events of TFA. Rey is 19. Kylo is 29. TLJ picks up where TFA leaves off.

First of all, Ben isn’t a child when he and Luke have that kerfuffle; he’s a grown-ass adult. I don’t believe Luke Skywalker would try to murder his nephew, even though canon insists that he does, but I have zero sympathy for the manchild we see in TFA and TLJ who ought to know better and doesn’t. If he were Rey’s age, I’d be willing to cut him a lot more slack.

Luke standing over him with a lit lightsaber is traumatizing, yes, but Kylo doesn’t even ask, “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” either before or after he reacts. He just blasts Luke away, sets the place on fire, and runs. (It’s unclear in the films if he deliberately kills the students or if their deaths are accidents. It’s also unclear in the films if the students he takes with him are kidnapped or if they’re co-conspirators / turn to the Dark themselves. Given how cavalierly Kylo murders people in TFA and TLJ, however, I find TLJ’s decision to suggest, “hey, you were wrong to jump to conclusions about Kylo” is... odd. Even if he wasn’t evil then, he chose to become evil. That wasn’t Luke’s doing!!! Rey is right on the money when she tells Luke that “Kylo failed you”.)

Keep in mind that the OT never tried to justify Vader’s crimes ex post facto by saying he was misunderstood. Vader is presented as genuinely evil, right up until the point where he saves Luke, and it’s a surprise for everyone because there’s literally no warning that it’s coming. That act doesn’t undo all that’s come before. It just shows that there was room for him to be different. That’s different from what I see TLJ trying to do.

I’ve noted the age gap between Kylo and Rey before; it’s one reason why I am personally squicked by a romantic relationship between them. Though they would both be considered legal adults in the US, there’s a big age and experience gap between most 19-year-olds and most 29-year-olds, and so while a relationship could work in theory, it would likely be an exception rather than the rule. (Per XKCD, the general rule of thumb for age gaps in relationships is [half your age + 7] - so Rey is 2 years younger than the rule suggests is appropriate.) Rey is exceptionally mature for her age; Kylo notably less so--I don’t see it working out.

Of course, the age gap isn’t the only reason this pairing doesn’t appeal - the torture/mind rape sequence alone would make this a NOTP for me - but it really doesn’t help.

Also, as an aside, please note that 28 ABY was a hell of a year, and there’s barely any information about it in canon, despite the fact that it’s so freakin’ pivotal in shaping the ST’s world. There’s Bloodline, which is about Leia’s heritage becoming public (which I have not read, so I’m super-fuzzy on the details) and the Rise of Kylo Ren comic series... and that’s pretty much it.

But the reason I mention the age gap is because The Rise of Skywalker decided that Kylo and Rey were two halves of some mystical “Force dyad” (try saying that with a straight face!) and I... have some questions. Like was Kylo always one half of the dyad for ten years, just hanging out all by his lonesome until Rey finally popped into existence to “complete” him (ugh) or what? How does that even work??

(Wook says The Rise of Skywalker: Expanded Edition includes a bit about how Palpatine tried to make a Force dyad with Vader and I just...how would that even work?? Please stop, you’re embarrassing yourself.)

The only way the stupid Force dyad business could even possibly make sense is if Kylo and Rey were Secret Twins--but the age gap makes that impossible. Literally all of the stuff that the narrative uses to establish them as Star-Crossed Lovers would make just as much sense--if not more--if they were Secret Twins, but they can’t be Secret Twins because of the age gap. And I suspect the age gap was deliberate, precisely to rule out the prospect of Secret Twins in the first place because... the OT already did it? (I dunno, they didn’t have any problem re-creating most of the stuff from the OT into the ST, right down to superweapons and Emperor Palpatine, so I honestly don’t know why they drew the line at the Secret Twins thing, which would have at least made sense.)

But you know where else we see this kind of age gap? Let’s roll over to Legends, shall we?

7 BBY - Kyp Durron born.

9 ABY - Jacen and Jaina Solo born. Kyp is 16.

11 ABY - Events of the Jedi Academy trilogy by Kevin J. Anderson: Kyp Durron turns to the dark side based on the urging of a Sith ghost, fights Luke, destroys the suns of several systems, and is brought back to the light by Han Solo. Kyp is 18. Jaina is 2.

So there’s a slightly bigger age gap between Kyp and Jaina, but everything else maps out so perfectly between those two and Kylo and Rey that it’s just... blindingly obvious the writers were trying to have it all ways by mashing a Kyp/Jaina storyline with the Jacen vs. Jaina storyline, plus mixing in the Dark Empire plot in for good measure. In my opinion, it does not work.

Also, lest you call me a hypocrite because I admit to shipping Kyp/Jaina on occasion, let me be clear: I don’t ship this pairing when Jaina is 19 and Kyp is 35--not only because of the age gap, but because Kyp is her teacher at that point, and that is is a major squick for me. But when Kyp is 50, Jaina is 34, she’s not his student anymore, they’ve both matured, and the creepiness equation cited above is in their favor. Context matters.

Anyway, I don’t understand how a Force dyad works, and I don’t think the writers do either, because none of their explanations make any sense. The only reason Rey and Kylo are a dyad is Because The Writers Said So. That’s it. It’s the Soulmates trope taken up to 11 because in theory everybody should have a soulmate, but there’s literally only one Force dyad ever, because they’re just That Special.

And the whole business was even more offensive once I realized that Anakin was allowed to be the Chosen One all by his lonesome, but Rey is only complete when she’s bonded with Kylo as a Force dyad (despite someone being able to embody All of The Jedi At Once without him). What, and I mean this literally, the fuck.

Anyway, in my fix-it fic, things are a little more straightforward: Kylo tried to mind-rape Rey in TFA, as per canon, and when Rey fought back and pushed him out of her mind, the trauma triggered a lot of her latent Force powers. Each of them picked up stuff from the other’s mind as a consequence of Kylo’s unskillful digging, and it left them with a lingering connection that shows up in TLJ’s “Force Skype” conversations at unexpected intervals, which Rey believes Kylo to be doing on purpose.

Legends!Luke postulates that Rey is unable to keep Kylo out because of her own internalized self-doubt and trauma and works to change that as he works with Rey. The culmination of that arc is for her to deliberately set her boundaries and defend them successfully with skill and control, rather than pure instinct--basically, to revisit the trauma in TFA and change the ending.

#star wars #WHY DISNEY WHY #tlj fix-it

3 notes · View notes

killian-whump · 5 years

Note

I feel so badly for the lecture you gave the poor nonnie who I think was looking for JJ Sneed as inspiration for CS AU. I can only assume what was asked by your reply to the nonnie. “ I tend not to read or promote CS AUs of Colin’s other works (except in some very specific cases).” I guess it’s OK if a friend of yours writes a CS piece based on What Still Remains. My question is what made that one OK other than your friend wrote?

First of all, the Nonny didn’t ask me for anything, and that wasn’t a lecture. Nonny said she disliked JJ Sneed and was only looking forward to the CS AUs based off of it. I answered back that I’m not into most CS AUs, and don’t usually post any, so if that’s all she’s interested in regarding JJ Sneed, she’s not going to find it here and should look elsewhere. I also said, like TWO times, that I have no problem with other people enjoying the content and creating the content, so I’m not sure how you got “lecture” out of that. I can only imagine that you’re confused because when you stayed out too late as a kid, your parents ‘lectured’ you by saying, “Well, we don’t like to stay out late, and we don’t want to encourage others to stay out late, but if you want to stay out late, that’s perfectly okay and we hope you have a nice time doing so.” I don’t wanna be judgey, but I’m gonna do it anyway and say that’s really weird.

Secondly, I clearly said “except in some special cases” in my post, which I know you know I said, because you literally included it in your quote of what I said on the post. So I’m not sure why you’re so scandalized by the fact that there’s a CS AU that is evidently one of those “special cases” that I am willing to reblog. I mean, you act like you’re catching me up in a lie of some kind, but you’re actually just catching me up in... doing exactly what I said I do. Congratulations? I’ve run out of confetti, so you’ll have to do without this time.

So now on to WHY @hollyethecurious‘s ‘We Make Our Own Fate’ is what I consider a “special case” of a CS AU:

It’s by my friend. Look, I'm not going to lie and deny that this is a factor. I am 100% more likely to scroll past a CS AU by someone I don’t know than I am to scroll past one written by one of my friends. I also have read some fantasy-themed AUs, A/B/O fics, and mpreg fics my friends have written - even though I openly state that these things are my least favorite tropes/genres. I am absolutely more likely to give a friend, a favorite author, or fellow whumper’s potentially unpleasant/squicky fic a chance than I am a complete stranger’s. So sue me.

There’s whump in it. I will literally reblog a photo of a monkey’s ass if there’s some good whump attached to it somehow. The story started with Killian stepping in that bear trap, as in the film, and it got even better a couple chapters later, when his wound got infected and Emma had to nursemaid him. If memory serves me correctly, I only reblogged the chapters that had whump or significant angst in them - as I do for ALL multi-chapter stories that aren’t explicitly whump fics. And, again, I regularly reblog fics/chapters that have tropes I dislike (or even find squicky) if they contain whump. This isn’t a secret, either. I’m pretty sure even my best friends know not to expect a reblog from me if they ain’t got whump somewhere in the work/chapter. Hell, I even ASK people to tag me in any whumpy chapters of their fics, even if I haven’t liked/reblogged a single chapter of the fic before. I’m not above randomly reblogging Chapter 17 of your 32 chapter opus because Killian gets tied up in it. I am a simple woman of simple tastes. I just sit here in my own little world and reblog the whumps, man. It could not be simpler to understand.

It’s more of a full-fledged crossover. Mind you, this is only why I’ve continued to read the story, beyond the initial giving-it-a-chance and my reblogs of whumpy chapters. To me, this isn’t a simple CS AU. It’s a crossover fic. I consider it that because there are multiple characters drawn from, and multiple parallels made and shown between What Still Remains and Once. We see Robin in the role of Ben. Neal in the role of Zach. Eloise in the role of Judith. Walsh in the role of the Berserker. It is clear that the author actually watched What Still Remains, took an active interest in the characters, relationships and dynamics of the film, and found suitable places to meld those things with the characters, relationships and dynamics of Once. This isn’t the kind of “I pasted Emma’s face over Maddie’s” manip or “I watched the trailer and put CS in something vaguely resembling it” fic that I refuse to promote. It’s a well-thought-out crossover that respects BOTH works as valid in their own rights. And it’s certainly not the only one of those out there, of course, and not even the only one of them I’ve read and enjoyed - but it is, however, one of the only lengthy CS AUs I’ve reblogged... because most of you assholes don’t put any whump in your fucking stories.

That’s the REAL problem here, let’s just be honest. If everybody put whump in every chapter of every story, I could just sit here all day absorbing it all and rolling around in my own little whumperflies stupor and never have to scroll past ANYTHING. But nooooooooooooo, you guys are all, “Here’s my coffee shop AU!” and “This is a fluff piece!” and “There should be a plot somewhere.” Killjoys. Gimme more whump, and give it to me now.

#fandom drama #oh look #someone's mad again #anonymous #kw ask box

9 notes · View notes

imtoobiforyou · 5 years

Note

Any thoughts on Deceit? Feel free to ignore this I just saw you wanted asks k bye

There’s a lil bit of deceit discourse and general critical opinions in this post, you have been warned!

Okay I sat on this ask (and two others about more or less the same thing) for quite a while because I wanted to answer it well. I think it’s been several months lol sorry

I think I did not have “Deceit positive” in my description when this ask came in, but as you can see now, I like Deceit very much. He’s in my top two, maybe top one favorite sides.

I like Deceit not just because he’s a good villain. I believe he isn’t even necessarily the villain in the grand scheme of things, but that’s Thomas and co’s decision to make. My interpretation of him is more of a morally grey force that (usually) opposes the main sides, thus sparking juicy conflict. I don’t consider his way of thinking as inherently foul. However, because this is Thomas we’re talking about, his beliefs are often framed as something to overcome. And because everyone works differently, I’m willing to accept that.

For you to understand my fondness of Deceit and what I think of the canon and fanon portrayal of him, I need to explain something.

I usually don’t empathize deeply with fictional characters (or even real people for that matter). I am not much of an emotional person to begin with. I don’t project myself onto characters, I don’t get emotionally invested in characters, I don’t “hate” or “love” certain characters more than others. I get moved, and I cry, sure, but that is more because of the satisfaction of witnessing a good story arc than any significant emotional connection I have to the characters.

My enjoyment of a book, movie, show etc stems mainly from intellectual fulfillment. I like well written, plot-heavy stories. I LOVE complex, three-dimensional characters that I can thoroughly explore. Which is one of the reasons I adore Selfishness vs Selflessness, and by extension Deceit.

I also enjoy realism and moral ambiguity very much. As much as I like unadulterated fluff and cinnamon-roll characters, it is usually stories and characters that I can imagine happening in grimmer realities that catch my attention. I like to give characters flaws, and watch them struggle to overcome them.

It is my belief that the sides are immensely flawed. All of them. And I’m not only talking about flaws like “low self-worth” or “bottling up emotions”. I’m talking about selfishness, rashness, righteousness, shortsightedness, and so on. This is to be expected because all of them are fractions of a whole person with very clear functions they must carry out. And I love them for that.

The crucial difference between Deceit and the others is that Deceit knows he’s flawed and does not care. He in fact relishes in it. The other sides actively strive to be nice people, probably because of Thomas’ influence and the time they spent with one another, and to do that they hide their agendas and moral shortcomings. Not Deceit, though. He comes bursting through with his taunts and his villainy ways to call Thomas and the sides out on their bullshit. And you know what? I freaking love that.

I like Deceit because, in my opinion, he is the most comfortable with himself and his job. Because he has nothing to hide, he can actively stir up conflict and directly question the others on important matters. When he appears, the plot thickens. I love his charisma, his lack of giving a shit, and his intelligence.

This is already very long so I’ll talk only briefly about Deceit in the fandom. I know he’s a hot potato, and I can see why. On one hand there are people who see him as a no-good manipulator, an abuser, a full-out villain. On the other hand, there are people who see him as a misunderstood softie who’s just doing what he thinks is best. Depending on the interpretation, fanworks vary from villain!Deceit, abusive Deceit to Deceit Hurt/Comfort and DLAMP fluff. Personally, I don’t agree with either of these characterizations. I care very much about characters being in character when I encounter fanwork. Even in fanwork, I want the characters to not stray far from their in-canon selves. This is why I myself will personally never write certain tropes, and why I’m a bit picky about fanfic. Although eveyone will interpret canon differently, I myself don’t read Deceit as either. I have not written fic or created AUs with Deceit yet, but it’s coming very soon, and you’ll see how I view him once that is out for you to enjoy.

One final thing: Of course these are all just my own, personal, biased opinions. I think people are perfectly valid to see their abusers in Deceit and be triggered by him. And because of that I will always tag Deceit content. People have the right to interpret any character, including Deceit, however they want to, and create fanworks however they want to as well. I just wanted to get this out there, both to express my thoughts of (and love for) Deceit, and to suggest that hey guys, maybe all interpretations are valid and we should just enjoy the things we enjoy, while being careful to make the fandom a safe place for everyone.

#deceit sanders #discourse #fandom discourse #i2b4uanalysis #opinions #i2b4u mumbles #abuse mention #manipulation mention #swearing for ts

58 notes · View notes

phdna · 5 years

Text

*arriving a month late with Starbucks and an uninteresting Endgame review*

This took me forever to write because work has been very intense lately, but I have thoughts I want to write down, for my own future reference when I’m an old woman looking back on my life, if for nothing else.

SPOILERS AHEAD, of course!

From whatever little I’ve been online since Endgame came out, it seems like the internet has been on fire swearing undying love, eternal hate and everything in between. I’m used to that because the MCU fandom has a tendency to be like that, but it feels like this time is more intense, which puzzled me a little bit, as it mostly adheres to the Marvel rules of storytelling, and people tend to not fuss over movies that do that as much as they do over movies that break the established MCU patterns. And then I did some reading and watching and talking and it just hit me that people aren’t reacting to Endgame itself, they’re reacting to the MCU. Both people who think it’s the best movie ever and people who think it’s absolute trash aren’t talking a lot about the movie, they’re talking about how the movie handled the end of this long journey that was the MCU. (Exception: time travel. I’ll get back to it in a moment!) I know I’m having a Captain Obvious moment here, but bear with me for a moment, I’m going somewhere with this.

Here’s the thing: as long as there are more movies coming, we can all overlook things we dislike about the MCU really well – “they’ll just fix it later,” right? Or we can fix it ourselves, even if we don’t write/read fics – the endless theories about what the next movies are gonna be about are in large part wish-fulfillment. Maybe next time Marvel will have more representation of all kinds, maybe next time Marvel will develop their female characters as much as their male counterparts, maybe next time Marvel will focus on this particular relationship that is either underdeveloped or so developed that it should get more attention, maybe next time Marvel will direct a character arc towards where I think it should go. But when the end arrives, we have to face that we aren’t in charge of the MCU and have sometimes wildly different expectations that what the Powers That Be have in mind. We have been emotionally invested in this universe for a long time – we bring the MCU with us in our lives even away from screens – and it sucks a little to realize that, ultimately, we are powerless to impact it. If Endgame was 100% everything you’ve always wanted for every single character and for the universe as whole, great! You’re still gonna mourn the end a little bit, but it’s cool! But if you feel like even one character of the dozens in the cast got the short end of the stick, you’re gonna be upset because don’t we all wish we could sit down with Marvel and teach them Why They Are Wrong About This Character?

I hope I’m not sounding holier-than-thou, like I’m being absolutely cool and adult about the whole thing. Hell no. I’d fight Kevin Feige in a parking lot any time, and have been ready to do that since huh… the MCU started. (Especially because the MCU has taken over the comics and I like 616 more than I like the MCU, so I’ve got beef with Marvel for that.)

So yeah, I have plenty of “What? No! Whose idea was that, that’s terrible!” moments, but I always try to focus on what I enjoyed more than on what I hated. Sometimes it doesn’t work and I get forever bitter, but most of the time, I make an active effort to 1) be grateful that WE EVEN HAVE GOOD SUPERHERO MOVIES AT ALL and 2) watch the movies I’m actually watching instead of watching the movies I think I should watch. For instance, I want to set myself on fire whenever I think about how un-family-like the Avengers are in the MCU, but since being a family isn’t a story the MCU is trying to tell, I consciously try to find something I enjoy about the constant conflicts, such as what they tell us about what each character believes, and how they keep coming back together to do the right thing despite their differences.

Arguably, that’s too much effort, and I get why some people want to be entertained and get upset if the MCU doesn’t deliver that entertainment – I mean, movies are supposed to be fun. But since I was a kid, I’ve always been a fan of imperfect things I have no control over, and I muddle through what I don’t enjoy to get to the shiny bits that give me goosebumps and keep me up at night feeling giddy over how good something was. It’s part of how I react to stuff I like by now. I don’t know, maybe it’s my History degree talking, but I don’t see what the big deal is with saying “Some of it sucks, some of it is brilliant, some of it has to be challenged on the ground of human rights, but overall I’m interested in learning more about it.”

Why the essay on how to engage with the MCU?

Because no matter how I think about it, my primary opinion about Endgame isn’t “I think it’s good” or “I think it’s bad” but just “I’m thankful.” That’s it. I can’t look at Endgame and see it as an isolated movie. I look at it and think “God, I was just out of school when Tony said I am Iron Man and now I’m a teacher and the MCU has always been there helping me keep track of the passage of time all these years.” Here, have a bad analogy: Endgame is when you finish a long travel and there’s nothing home to eat and you have to unpack and you’re exhausted and normal life is depressing and you have a headache and you’re frustrated that holidays are over and you didn’t do everything you wanted…. but that doesn’t make the entire travel a waste of time, does it? It’s actually the opposite. If the travel sucks, getting home is great. And very, very, very few people walk out of Endgame saying “Thank god this MCU saga is over, ugh, I was following it just out of obligation and I’m glad I’m free now” – I mean, there are people like that, and I can see why, but I also never finish things just out of obligation so I can’t relate. Anyway, mostly, people either expected more because the MCU is good enough to do better or thought this was the perfect ending. I’m both. Some things I loved, some things I really wish would be different, but mostly, I’m, like I said, grateful that the journey was so good that no ending would’ve fully satisfied me.

My biggest problem is with time travel. I’ve never liked the trope (not huge on alternate universes, either!), so I knew this would be a pet peeve even before I watched Endgame. I’m also surprised that apparently nobody involved in the movie can agree on how aforementioned time travel works. Fans certainly can’t. And I don’t think it’s a good thing if your audience is confused by a major part of your movie, even if there is a perfectly good explanation and the audience just didn’t get it. (Which isn’t the case, as apparently there isn’t a perfect explanation.) But you know what? I’m hand-waving it. It’s a convoluted plot device but it made a good movie, so like, whatever. Let it work in ABC way unless XYZ needs to happen, in which case, XYZ is how it’s always worked regardless of how ABC was used before. I don’t care. I’m taking what they say happened and saying “Okay, that’s how it happened” and ignoring the hows and the whys. It’s just bad comic book logic on the big screen, I’ve been rolling with this kind of thing since I was a literal child. Having said that, I don’t know what year it is in the MCU, I don’t know how Spider-Man will work, I’m not touching Cap’s time paradox with a ten-foot pole, and I’m not even gonna try to understand any of the timeline charts going around online.

My other major problems have to do with real life more than with the movie. The only original female Avenger dies in the same way the only original female Guardian of the Galaxy died, and neither of them get funerals but we do get the men in their lives suffering over it (which switches the focus from mourning the women to the men’s journeys.) Not sure if the joke was that Thor was clinically depressed or if the joke was that Thor was fat, but haha hilarious. The first openly queer character is omg a nameless cameo talking about someone we never see, isn’t the MCU so progressive? (The bar was so low that Marvel had to dig a ditch so they could somehow get lower than that.) Not loving the idea of “Thanos treated Gamora like shit but the Soul Stone recognizes he loved her” and “Tony’s dad was awful but Tony can Forgive Him” being presented as touching – it’s creepy af and makes me wonder if the MCU will end up saying Alexander Pierce actually cared about Bucky somewhat or something of that sort. Female hero team up: unironically loved it and want it projected on my tombstone (it was one of my favorite part), but it’s a little disturbing that almost none of them had much of a storyline in the movie because they don’t have much of a storyline in the MCU – it really highlights that Marvel has a boy’s club problem still. Now, none of these things make for a bad movie, it just reminds me that Marvel has a long way to go with they want to become inclusive.

Okay, now on to storylines…

Tony. Loved it. I love how the Russos direct Tony (I do have a problem with how M&M write Tony, sometimes, though, and always have) because they love to highlight how soft Tony’s heart is. Part of what makes the character interesting in any universe is that he’s willing to do morally shady stuff when he thinks he’s justified and he tends to think he’s justified because he knows exactly how smart he is, but if you explore this borderline antihero behavior without a deep commitment to reminding the audience that Tony is emotional and gentle, you end up with Reed Richards. 616!Tony will always be sweeter than MCU!Tony (even though 616!Tony’s dad literally tried to beat emotions out of him, while MCU!Tony’s dad more ignored him than actively tried to make him colder, but that’s besides the point) but Tony was so openly loving in this movie, and it helps make his death hit home, why so many people will miss Iron Man and Tony I pity Morgan a lot because she won’t remember her dad, but the only way to feel like the torch has truly been passed to other heroes was to kill Tony – keep him alive in any way and characters are gonna want his advice even if he stops fighting. I want to see how other heroes will protect a world without Iron Man. It’s exciting and brand new and feels a bit like when Fury said in 2008 that Tony isn’t the only superhero.

Steve. Let’s take the time paradox at face value and say everything goes well in every possible timeline and nobody suffers more than they would if he hadn’t done his time-heist thing, because I think that’s what the movie wanted to imply. I’m actually happy he got to be with Peggy. It’s not how I’d write him, mind you, but I always knew MCU Steve was being written as someone who is inherently out of place in the modern world. In the comics, Steve has a culture shock and he mourns people, but he finds a new family in the Avengers and truly becomes part of this century. MCU Steve was never that guy. And that’s okay, it’s a valid take! Not what I’d do, but given his storyline throughout the other movies, I think it’s a very satisfying ending that feels very organic. Saying “screw everything, I’ll do what I think it’s important” has been Steve’s constant in all movies, and it’s nice that he learned that he is important too, not just everybody else. Handing the shield was also very important – no “I think he’d want you to have it” to fuel conspiracy theories in the future: Steve made a good decision and that’s fine. (And I’ll cut a bitch if y’all keep saying “maybe Bucky had the shield before” because Sam can be a first choice fgs!!!)

Professor Hulk is a thing and I liked it more than I thought I would. Hopefully we’ll see more of him. I liked Bruce and I liked the Hulk, but somehow this version of him made me go from “Yeah, they’re nice” to “PLEASE TELL ME HE’LL HAVE A SOLO MOVIE” so good job in redeeming the Hulk franchise, Marvel! It only took you 10 years to get the right tone, but hey, what matters is that you did it!

Thor…….. Um. Hard. I liked his character arc but hated how it was handled. I’m not even a huge fan of Ragnarok because comedy isn’t my thing, but watching Ragnarok, I could see why the movie worked and the humor didn’t come at the expense of being fair to the character. Endgame felt more like the movie itself was bullying him. They’re laughing at his pain, basically, and it’s just not funny. It bothers me for the same reason it bothers me when people say pre-serum Steve should never leave home – just… no. But then, we got Thor and Frigga and I’d sell a kidney for more Frigga, so, it wasn’t completely awful. Just like, 90%?

Natasha!!! I hope everybody who said Scarjo can’t act paid attention to this movie, because she gave Nat a depth that we haven’t seen since CATWS, and even then, because it was Steve’s story, she was sidelined. That’s the Nat I’ve always wanted in the MCU. …and of course, she’s dead. Luckily, we don’t know anything about MCU!Nat, so we can still get prequels even if they don’t want to bring her back to life. It’s a little shady that she dies (why is it that the randomly decided death always seem to be randomly assigned to whatever the minority in a team is, huh?) but I love that she sacrificed herself for the greater good. It’s a heroic end to a woman who thought she was gonna be a villain her entire life. Oh, oh, oh, I have to say this: Natasha leading the remaining Avengers? Godtier. I’m not much of a fic person but I desperately want fics of that off-screen period where she’s being a boss.

Clint. MCU!Clint never did much for me, so I was impressed that I was rooting so much for him during the movie. I don’t know if he’ll just retire completely, but I’m hoping he doesn’t so we can see more of him in the MCU.

Okay, that’s the original Avengers and I’ve already written……. Too much. So I’ll stop – sort of – here.

But first, other random comments.

Fight choreography? On point, 10/10, would let Marvel beat me up to experience these sequences myself

“I am inevitable.” “I am Iron Man.” I cried so much the screen got blurry and I almost missed the snap. Thank you for this exchange.

I love and support Morgan, but I’m dreading the idea that in a near future, the MCU will get Riri’s entire story and give it to Morgan. Please, MCU, I’m counting on you, have Morgan grow up to befriend Riri, not to steal her role.

Nebula needs a solo movie. Nebula needs a whole cinematic universe, actually. What a character.

Speaking of which, GotG 3 is shaping up to be very cool

Sam being the one to say “On your left” in the movie where he becomes Captain America? Poetic cinema. Also! Sam Wilson is Captain America and both the human being who wants children to grow up in a better world and the geek who wants to see flying Cap in me are equally over the moon with joy

Bucky, my darling, the MCU hasn’t known what to make of you since 2011. It’s okay, Sebastian Stan will always do his magic and make you be Bucky even when Marvel doesn’t fully understand anything about your character

Pepper’s character development in 10 years is protagonist-worthy, I can’t believe how she always only has a couple of scenes every movie

Tom Holland should not be allowed to have crying scenes, they make my heart hurt

The movie feels a lot shorter than it is

There’s a lot more I could say, but I’m writing it on Word (tumblr sometimes eat my text posts as I’m writing them) and the wordcount is nearing 3k, so I better shut up. If you’ve read all of this, please treat yourself to a milkshake, you’re awesome. If there’s anything you want to talk about that I didn’t address (or just… you know, about Marvel in general), my ask and my direct messages are always open. I’ll probably take forever to get back to you (I NEED A VACATION ASAP) but I will eventually answer you and I don’t bite, so please go ahead if you’re curious about my not-so-very-interesting thoughts :)

TL;DR: Endgame isn’t my favorite movie (IM, IM3, CATFA, CATWS and BP all come first, sorry) but it’s up there in the “I can watch this movie a thousand times and I won’t get tired of it” list, and I think it does a fairly good job in ending the Infinity Saga, so I’m basically pleased!

#avengers endgame spoilers

13 notes · View notes

scriptlgbt · 6 years

Note

I have a character who is trans, and I want to make sure I write him properly and as a real person without succumbing to stereotypes. So I was wondering if any of you would be willing to make a list of the most common and/or incorrect stereotypes about trans people? I know it's a lot to ask, and I totally understand if you don't have the time. But you don't know if you don't ask, right? Thanks!!

After a fruitless attempt to find a list for you I have come to conclusion that I’m just gonna have to write one myself… so please forgive me for the disorganised mess this is going to be, I’ve been digging around the internet grabbing whatever I can find. I’ll link to articles whenever I can, and some of these tropes don’t have names yet or have been named by me and the other mods. Also some are beliefs but people apply them to trans characters too. Lets go!

Notes: I’m going to add FIM (fine in moderation) to the ends of tropes that are perfectly fine, but are overused (given the very small amount of transgender representation, these tropes became big problems very quickly but aren’t harmful individually - or at least some parts aren’t)

Bury Your Gays/Punish Your Gays - (here gay is used as an umbrella term for any characters in the community) this trope is where LGBT+ characters are killed or punished and given no chance of a positive future for simply being in the LGBT+ community

Trans Tribulations - this is basically where characters are miserable because they are dealing and facing others transphobia or misconceptions or their own gender dysphoria (FIM)

Forcibly Outed and The Great Trans Reveal - this is where either another character forcibly outs a trans character to others, or when their transness is found out without their consent/forced consent (for example: someone walks in on a trans person while they’re changing to see them wearing a binder or possible even nude, or when a character is injured and when trying to save them others they find out they’re trans.)

Villainous Trans or Gender Non-Conforming Folks (link contains sensitive material) - this is pretty self explanatory, it’s villains who are either coded or explicitly trans and their transness is large part of why they are villainous (and often “creepy”). They’re often made to be predatory and violent

Trans Folks As Victims / Tragically Trans (same link as above) - those poor tragic trans folk who are ostracised, brutally murdered, and forced into poverty/sex work but screw doing anything to actually help them! (this appears a lot in crime dramas)

Not Truly People - when trans/nb characters aren’t treated as real people or are treated as caricatures or objects

Cis Is Better - the belief that being cis is better than being trans/nb so trans/nb folks all obviously want to be cis

Trans Since Childhood - the belief that all trans folk have known they were trans since childhood/got the opportunity to transition at a young age (FIM, some trans people do know since childhood but not all. Some people are figuring this out in their 60s, they deserve as much respect and representation as young trans folk)

Trans = Gay - trans people aren’t really trans they’re just gay and have internalised homophobia! (sarcasm)

The Knowledgeable Ally - this cis ally knows everything to do with trans folk, in fact they know even more about being trans than trans folk do! They kindly share their bottomless knowledge and are always there to correct trans folk. In stories these brave heroes are often at hand to take transmen by the hand and tell them how terrible it is to ace bandage and give them a binder (that despite them not measuring them fits perfectly) and show them a better way to be trans (people should absolutely not use ace bandages to bind but it’s the patronising nature in which this is done that is the problem)

Trans = Gross / Trans Is Misleading - the “I was gonna get with this hot chick but then it turned out she had a penis and I started puking!” thing, apparently it’s supposed to be funny?

TRIGGER WARNING FOR NEXT TROPE

Predatory Trans Women / Invading Trans Women / Trans Women Are Predatory Men (straight or gay) - the belief/ rhetoric that trans women are straight men who want to invade lesbian spaces to to rape cis lesbians ( and to turn them straight). Or that trans women are gay men who want to rape straight men

END

Delicate Trans Boy - the “trans boy are soft and delicate” or “boys-light” thing, it’s basically where people infantilize and fetishise trans guys. (FIM - other than the infantilizing and fetishising thing, don’t do that). These characters frequently can do no wrong or their wrong doings are glossed over/ignored

Trans Guys Are Either Super Masculine or Super Feminine - no in between (FIM - this may be because of societal pressures, please do explore)

Trans Women Are Either Super Feminine or Super Masculine - no in between (FIM - this may be because of societal pressures, please do explore)

Transmen look extra feminine / Transwomen look extra masculine - this is done to establish their non-cisness/show how abnormal trans people are, transmen are all super curvy and soft and all transwomen are all very tall and very hairy ect. This is separate to the above tropes because this is usually used when fetishising trans people and is often done to other trans people from the “normal” cis people

Only Skinny White People Are Trans/NB - our media pretty much only includes trans/nb folks as skinny white, androgynous or hyper masc/fem people. This is beginning to change, but slowly

All Trans Women Are Overly Sexual - a side affect of the Predatory Trans Women trope (this is most likely linked to A Man Is Always Eager and the misconception trans women are men) as well as the fetishisation of trans women

All Trans Men Aren’t Sexual / Are Asexual - it’s an extension of the Delicate Trans Boy trope (most likely linked to the All Women Are Prudes (don’t want to or have interested in sex)) (FIM, there are asexual/non sexual trans men)

Trans Women As Sex Workers (link contain sensitive material) - the most common occupation for trans women in media is sex work, it’s heavily linked to the fetishisation of trans women and to Trans Folks As Victims

Easy Sex Change - the myth that transitioning is one quick surgery away when in reality it can take years, several surgeries, and HRT (assuming the person wants/can transition medically)

Trauma Made Me Trans - the idea that people are trans because of a trauma they’ve suffered, or because they didn’t get enough attention when they were young

My Parents Wanted A Boy/Girl So I Became One - when characters are trans because their parents wanted a kid of another gender and the character wanted to make them happy

“Trans” For Love - when a gay character pretends to be of another gender (sometimes even transitioning) so they can be openly affectionate/love their partner, or when a character pretends to be of another gender (sometimes even transitioning) so their love interest will be attracted to them. (if I’d seen this only once it would have been to many, but no, I’ve had to see it multiple times. do not.)

Love Heals Dysphoria - (the trans version of Love Heal All) It can help some people but doesn’t eradicate dysphoria (unfortunately)

Born In The Wrong Body (narrative) - I don’t have enough space here so here’s a short article explaining the problems with this and a quick quote for those who don’t want to read it “I am not trapped by my body. I am trapped by your beliefs. And I want to reclaim this body from those who want it to breathe and be fed by their dogmas”

Trans = No Body Confidence - when trans characters have absolutely no body or confidence in their appearance what so ever. This is often used with The Knowledgeable Ally and Love Heals Dysphoria, in this scenario the trans character is filled with self hate and lacks any kind of confidence what so ever until their cis friend decides to take pity on them and helps them over come all their confidence/trans related problems (in a very patronising way)

“Required” Medical Transition - the belief that trans people need to undergo surgery/surgeries and HRT in order to be trans or to be their gender. This and it’s problems are very heavily linked to Born In The Wrong Body and Cis Is Better. Here’s an article which covers this and a quick quote “mainstream discourse has viewed cis-gender embodiment as superior and ‘correct’ […] it is as if you are not done until your body looks like a cis-gender body!”

All About Trans - this is where the whole story is focused around being trans, sub-plots included (while there is a place for trans centric stories, there’s more to us and our lives than just being trans). Or when a trans characters whole narrative/development is centred on them being trans

Trans Folk Must (Want To) Adhere To Gender Rolls - no one must adhere to gender roles, trans folk aren’t exceptions

Old Friend, New Gender - while this trope seems innocent enough it’s often coupled with Trans = Gross / Trans Is Misleading. This is typically played out with a cis male who meets this strangely familiar super model looking women who he’s interested in, only to find out she used to be one of his old (”male”) friends. From here we go one of two ways, first the “omg she’s actually a man” repulsion where we’re supposed to find it funny/gross that he was attracted to trans women. And the second is where he has the same reaction but this time, it’s still played for jokes but, there’s a blatant message of acceptance/tolerance and he stops being attracted/interested to her but he accepts her as a women and as his old friend (this is typically handled terribly)

This is a fairly sizeable list, but by no means a comprehensive one.

Please do reblog and add trans/nb tropes and trends as well as links to lists by others!

If you have any questions or would like us to further elaborate on any of these tropes or any other trans/nb tropes, please send us an ask (when the ask box is open).

- Mod Emery

#anonymous #trans #tropes #long #mod emery #thanks mod Al for helping name tropes #rape mention

683 notes · View notes

guidedbynors · 3 years

Text

Quest RPG Adventure: GromSurf Championship

Alright, I changed the name of the adventure. But it's a silly one.

Premise:

In Lifeguard Life, Questers take on the role of magical lifeguards at a beach resort. Out across the water, over the horizon is a dimensional rift, which is beautiful in its swirly galactic colors, but dangerous from time to time, hence the lifeguards that are on patrol 24/7. Sometimes wonderful things come swimming (or drifting) out of the dimensional rift, like bunnies, unicorns, and perfectly arranged charcuterie boards. But there is an equal number of horrors, as well, like severed heads, oil spills, and mimic charcuterie boards!

Once a year there is the Grand Finals of the GromSurf Competition. One of the most prestigious surf comps in. . . wherever. Regardless, Groms from all over the world come to compete in the competition, and it’s up to the lifeguards (Questers) to make sure everything goes according to plan.

As the most senior lifeguards on Beach of Infinity (Not Infinity Beach--totally different place), Questers are tasked with keeping the first place trophy safe.

Note: If Questers would rather be surfers rather than lifeguards, allow them to be. If some want to be lifeguards and others are surfers, then make sure they have a clear understanding of how they know each other before the session starts. If any Questers decide to be surfers, insist that they are not Groms, as that would take away from the tension of the module.

Note: Grom, shortened from grommet, is Australian and Californian slang for a young, often precocious surfer. Gremmie is a common synonym.

Setting:

The resort town is called Little Jiroma. There are many villas, resorts, and tourist attractions along the Beach of Infinity. The lifeguard culture is one of the ironic hipsters and social media influencers. As a Guide, you can really set the tone for this session by riffing on the beach/hipster/social media culture that claims to be unpretentious, yet is exclusionary (at times) in the same breath. Think of the most lavish yet ironic surf resort imaginable, that's Little Jiroma.

Waking Up

The life of a lifeguard is one of the long days in the sun and long nights at the party. Because of this, waking up is always an issue. Questers start the session waking up at a strange house where there was a party the night before. At first, it seems as though they’ve just had a really killer night, though nobody else is around. As they wake, let the Questers introduce their characters and what they look like.

As you describe the scene, broken windows, door hanging open, beer and hard spritzer cans all over, hummus platters and vegan cookies on a tray (half-eaten), one of the Questers realize they’d brought the GromSurf Trophy to the party, and now it’s gone. They don’t see it anywhere. The competition starts at 1pm and the Questers are supposed to present the trophy at the opening ceremony. It’s actually been stolen by someone, but Questers can take some time searching the house. If they succeed on a search roll, they do find a clue. They realize they are all wearing wristbands to a swanky and popular music club. They don’t remember what happened there, but it’s clear they visited the club for a reason--and together.

Infinity Beach

Infinity Beach is a fancy music club. It is a huge Victorian-style hall, with a large dance floor made of frosted glass, bars, a balcony, and a basement swimming pool that looks up through the glass dance floor to those above. The proprietor of the Infinity Beach is a slick and stylish Tiefling with dark blue skin, small, yet curved horns, and a rather pointed chin. He wears fine suites of satin and is a strict pescetarian. His name is Chrechil. All of the Questers would know him, however, when they arrive at Infinity Beach (the music club, not the Beach of Infinity, which is totally the beach and not the music club), Chrechil isn’t there. Instead, a rather sleepy-eyed bartender answers the door (as it is locked). The bartender is a human girl with dark hair and pale skin. She wears blue lipstick and comes off as sort of goth. She’s not particularly happy to help, but she doesn’t need any persuasion to answer the Questers questions. Her name is Nadi and she was working the night before. She’ll tell the Questers that everything was super cool last night and Chrechil was having a great time, and then the (number of Questers) showed up, and that’s when everything started going to shit. This is why she’s not thrilled about helping them out.

There are a collection of likely questions I can imagine Questers asking Nadi. Here they are with the answers she would give:

What happened once we got here?

“Well, it took a while, but once you got here a bunch of Groms showed up.”

Why would Groms show up once we were here?

“You wouldn’t stop bragging about the GromSurf Trophy.”

Was there anything suspicious going on?

“Other than X number of people bringing a trophy to a music club that should have been locked away? No. Why you didn’t lose it, did you?”

Where is Chrechil?

“How am I supposed to know? He’s my boss. He was pretty upset when all the Groms showed up, he sort of stormed out of the place after the X (Questers) were talking to him.”

Is there an obvious place Chrechil would be right now?

“Probably surfing before all the Groms take it over for the championship.”

Searching for Chrechil and Grom Attention

As Nadi has told them, Chrechil is, indeed, at the beach, surfing before the championship tournament begins. While Questers look for Chrechil they may not notice the amount of attention they are getting from the contestants (Groms), as they get ready. Due to the weighted probability of success in Quest, think about what makes logical sense for your party. If they are all intent on finding Chrechil, you can assume they are not paying attention to the Groms who are getting their numbers for the competition. However, if any character wants to pay more close attention to the Groms, breaking from their intention to find Chrechil, they will notice that the eyes of the Groms follow the Questers, pretty much wherever they go. Think of the Groms like creepy dolls in a horror film. The Groms don’t have any expression, but their eyes move in their heads, and then once they can no longer track the Questers, their heads begin to turn. On closer inspection, if Questers approach the Groms, Questers will see that some of their heads are in a full 180, or even more. Something is certainly not right.

If no Questers break their attention away from the Chrechil search, then they’ll find Chrechil on some huge swells a couple hundred yards from the bank. To get to Chrechil, the Questers will need some surfboards. The problem is the only surfboards around are those the Groms will use for the tourney. If any of the Questers try to take the boards, the Groms will spring into action.

Note: If Questers try to swim out to meet Chrechil, a school of Aboleth will attack them from below. (Monster Manifest p.18)

The GromSurf Trophy, Grom Manifest

As Questers try to reach Chrechil, the Groms see an opening to stop them.

What’s Actually Going On? The Groms stole the trophy while at the party, a collective will to share the trophy. This plays on the trope of the “participation trophy.” It was the Groms that got the Questers wrecked the night before. In stealing the trophy from the Questers, the Groms summoned a Manifestation of Gromness from the dimensional rift on the horizon.

The Groms think the Questers know about the Manifestation they have summoned from beyond the rift. The Manifestation holds the trophy within it. The trophy is the source of its power. If Questers are able to make it into the deeper waters, near where Chrechil is, the Manifestation of Gromness will reveal itself as a wave of a whiney, rather entitled water elemental that believes everyone deserves a trophy because they’re all pretty good surfers. The Manifestation of Gromness is, like the Groms themselves, terrified of losing, and thus, is willing to share the trophy among all Groms.

It is revealed by Chrechil that, in their intoxicated state, Questers were moderately accepting of the Groms’ ideas. As an old-school and solid surfer, Chrechil doesn’t think it pushes people to be their best when trophies are handed out indiscriminately.

The Manifestation of Gromness can’t really be reasoned with. It’s pretty whiny and very entitled. While Questers talk with it, the real Groms will attack, trying to protect their collective trophy. The only way to defeat the Manifestation of Gromness is by pulling the GromSurf trophy from its innards, and since it’s just water, it shouldn’t be too hard.

I suggest making the task of retrieving the trophy harder than a single roll. Set the Manifestation’s HP pool in accordance with your Questing party. Then make the attempt to dive into the Manifestation a roll that must be a triumph, at first. Give the Manifestation HP benchmarks that will lower the dive and retrieve roll by a value of 1, each time a benchmark is hit. This way Questers must fend off Groms, argue with the Manifestation, and attempt to retrieve the trophy all at once. The Manifestation cannot be killed while it has the trophy, though it can be diminished for a short time before it replenishes itself with Gromness.

Aftermath

When the trophy is retrieved the Manifestation is defeated. The Groms all come out of a trance, and even though they say it was like a really good dream, they also can let the tournament proceed as it was supposed to. Questers get to present the trophy to the audience which consists mostly of the Groms’ parents.

#Quest RPG #TTRPG #Indie Games

0 notes

neuxue · 7 years

Text

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 21

All in all a mixed bag of a chapter, in which Perrin reaches some decisions and Faile remembers, I still dislike Rolan, and Borderland sayings are A Problem for me

Chapter 21: Embers and Ash

Last weekend, I went to my favourite bookstore and bought an actual, physical, hardcover book for the first time in years. That book was The Book Of Dust Volume One: La Belle Sauvage by Philip Pullman. The first book of the companion series to His Dark Materials, the final book of which I queued for (and then promptly devoured) at a different bookstore, seventeen long years ago. Some of you may know the extent to which my love for this series is deep and abiding; the rest of you need only know that it was my Hogwarts letter and my magic wardrobe and my invitation to the world of magic and fantasy and wonder all rolled into one, and my love for it is deep and abiding.

I was never, until around this time last year, sure that we would ever be getting The Book of Dust. (In honesty, there have been times where I was unsure whether I wanted it; I’ve always been a bit skeptical of post-facto additions to canon). But now suddenly it’s here¸and I have it in my hand, and after a week of it taunting me from the bookshelf I finally have a few hours in which I can sit down and get some reading done.

Why am I telling you this story? So you will understand the LEVEL OF COMMITMENT I AM MAKING when I say that I have decided I’m not allowed to read La Belle Sauvage until I get at least through chapter 22 of The Gathering Storm. Which means I may never get to read La Belle Sauvage, because Chapter 22 is the one you all keep telling me will kill me.

But THIS IS MY PROMISE, AND I WILL KEEP TO IT, BY MY HOPE OF SALVATION AND REBIRTH.

So here we are. Chapter 21: Embers and Ash. And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t point out that that’s a lovely chapter title. I’m not usually one for ranking favourites of things because usually I fail miserably, but once I’ve finished the series I might have to go through and rank all the chapter titles in order of awesome.

Perrin opened his eyes and found himself hanging in the air.

Oh great, we’ve moved beyond even cliffs and garden walls. Levelling up and NOT IN A GOOD WAY. LEVEL DOWN. ABORT. ABORT.

He felt a spike of terror, floundering in the sky.

I’d say ‘at least his survival instinct is intact’ but the past…oh…ten books or so have proved that to be utterly false.

(I say this as someone whose frequent activities include rock-climbing and flying trapeze, and whose recent google searches include ‘bungee jumping near London’ and ‘skydiving prices London’ so it’s possible I’m a hypocrite).

He waved his arms reflexively, as if to swim

Yeah I know swimming is my first instinct when suspended in midair as well, Perrin. Seriously, what the fuck? Also the more I think about it, the more hilarious this whole image is to me. Someone skilled at art and/or gif-making, please make some kind of visual representation of Perrin doggy-paddling in midair. In his pyjamas.

Well what do you know, we’re in the wolf dream. And after Perrin’s last chapter I’m optimistic that maybe he’ll finally commit to it properly. He’s danced on the edge of learning to use Tel’aran’rhiod since TDR and it’s about time for him to enroll in an actual crash course.

Pun only somewhat intended.

He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes and imagined himself jumping.

It’s okay, everybody falls the first time.

Nope, not Perrin. Perrin wins the Matrix Tel’aran’rhiod and sticks his landing perfectly.

This time, those dark storm clouds remained. They boiled, spun, and shot lines of lightning between different thunderheads.

The true difference between Sanderson and Jordan: Sanderson capitalises everything and Jordan pluralises ‘lightning’.

But the storm is not transient, not even here in Tel’aran’rhiod.

Actually, the interesting thing is that it’s not transient in Tel’aran’rhiod, where most things are, but it is mercurial and unpredictable in the real world. Those black and silver clouds from the prologue that hovered in the distance, then appeared instantaneously overhead, then vanished again…it’s a perfect reversal of how things are supposed to be. A storm whose reflection in the World of Dreams shows its gravity and permanence, while in the real world it is terrifying in part for its caprice. But even in the real world, it is not fading or vanishing or blowing over easily. The storm is gathering and everything is darkening and lightning hovers on the horizon, as it does here as a now-permanent feature in the skies of dreams.

It comes, Hopper agreed. If Shadowkiller falls to the storm, all will sleep forever.

If he falls to the storm. “I am the storm.” It’s not so much a question of whether Rand will be hit by the storm when it breaks as it is a question of whether he will be consumed by it, inside and out. “There is a rage in him fit to burn the world, and he holds it by a hair.” There is so little holding him back now, and so much power and anger within him. Master of the lightnings, rider on the storm. I’ve always linked Rand to the wind from the beginning of each book, for some reason (well, I know why I’ve made the link in my head; whether it was intended by Jordan is a different question but I’m inclined to think so), but now even that wind has become a tempest, and this time there was something wrong with the wind, and there is a storm gathering and Rand stands at the centre of it, and walks a razor’s edge between commanding it and being consumed by it, destroyed from the inside.

Perrin’s confused. It’s okay, Perrin. When you get home from dreamworld, just google ‘pathetic fallacy’ and also maybe ‘fisher king’ and things will start to make sense.

Or just when in doubt apocalypse.

Two legs, Young Bull? Two legs are slow!

Excuse you, ~legs are required for jumping, dancing, strolling along on those…what’s that word again? streets……~

“I have to keep control, Hopper,” he said. “When I let the wolf take control…well, I do dangerous things.”

Ah yes, this again.

Although, having said that, this actually isn’t a trope I get tired of, for the most part. This question of control, and the fear of losing it balanced against the knowledge of or desire for the power that such a surrender could bring; the fear of what lies beneath the surface, of what hides beneath who you want to be and curls itself around who you are; the navigation of lines and boundaries and balance.

Perrin wants control, but what he needs is something closer to balance, and understanding. And the desire for control, and the almost instinctive reaching for it feels more like a kind of denial. There is something within him that he fears, something within him that clashes with who he wants to be or thinks he needs to be, and so instead of allowing himself to explore and understand it, he suppresses it, denies that part of himself, and calls this control. And it feels like control, on the surface. But it isn’t; true control can’t be gained by simply suppressing. It comes more from knowing and accepting and understanding, from the ability to balance.

It’s not unlike Nynaeve and her block. She was, on some level, afraid of the power she had, and so she shut it away from herself, so that she could only access it when anger eroded those barriers. She could only access it when she ‘lost control’. But it wasn’t until she learned to surrender and accept that she was able to learn true control. To embrace the Power as a part of herself, and guide it as she willed.

That’s the difference, it seems to me. You can suppress something, and refuse to look at it, and hold it at bay with as much willpower as you can muster, and if you’re lucky it might not break through the barriers you’ve built and wreak havoc. (It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, in that way. If ‘losing control’ means letting this thing run rampant, unable to do anything to guide it or mitigate it because you’ve spent all your time and energy trying to push it away, then losing control is indeed something to fear). Or, you can do the much more difficult thing, and look it in the eyes and know what it is and learn how to use it, or how to accept it as a part of yourself, which is a very different (but arguably more effective) kind of control. It’s a control that comes from balance, rather than its absence.

But that’s what I see as Perrin’s issue. He’s always been afraid of losing control to the wolf, and because of that fear he’s never allowed himself to actually explore the wolf aspect of himself. So he doesn’t fully understand it, and yet he can’t rid himself of it, so he ends up in this ongoing situation where he tries to hold it at bay but invariably can’t do that permanently, which leads to these moments of ‘losing control’, which only serves to exacerbate the fear, which…oh hey there vicious circle.

Hopper, meanwhile, is attempting to convey either ‘please find some chill’ or ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’ with a single expression.

There were wonderful things about what had happened to him since leaving the Two Rivers.

But he couldn’t continue to lose control. He had to find a balance.

Yeah, pretty much. Well done for articulating that to yourself, Perrin. And I think finding that balance will go a long way towards solving the issue of control. But we shall see.

Throwing away the axe had made a difference. The axe and the hammer were different weapons –one could be used only for killing, while the other gave him a choice.

I think I liked this better when it was just implied, rather than stated outright. There have been a few times, now, where I’ve felt this way in this book. I think in part it’s a Sanderson thing, because it feels very like how he handles some of this in his own books. Only there, it’s consistent with the overall storytelling method, and characters, and modes of characterisation, so I don’t particularly mind it. My personal preference is for things to be left a bit more open, and for authors to leave more to the reader, but I think in his own works Sanderson is certainly able to leave enough unsaid that the things he does explain clearly – usually pertaining more to characters’ states of mind or personal journeys and conflicts – don’t feel like clumsy storytelling, at least to me. It works, because it’s how he writes. The thing is, it’s not quite how Jordan writes. Jordan does give the reader a fair amount of explanation sometimes, but through slightly different methods – most of which are informative but slightly less direct. So in that context, statements like this, that just hand the situation to you, feel…clunky. Like they were pulled unaltered from an outline, or else like Sanderson felt clarification was needed, but relied – understandably – on his own methods to do so.

But this is also one of the things I actually expected of the authorial transition, just from having read Sanderson’s books. It’s one of the ways in which he and Jordan are very different as writers, and it’s definitely something that was on my mind as I started reading TGS. Which means there could absolutely be an element of confirmation bias at play here, but it also means I’m not overly surprised and therefore not all that disappointed by it at the end of the day.

“But I need to know this place, Hopper. I need to learn how to use it, control it.”

Men, Hopper thought, Sending the smells of dismissiveness and anger. Control. Always control.

Hopper definitely has a point there. I suppose it makes sense, given that each of us is the only constant in our own lives, and even that is up for debate, as I’m not sure anyone is truly immutable. So from that perspective the need for control makes sense, because especially if everything else is changing, it seems only natural to desire some kind of anchor. Maybe you have to be able either to trust in yourself or trust in your surroundings, and if we can’t have one we seek to impose the other. Maybe I’m just talking out my arse. But hey, that’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?

Perrin does his usual trick of pulling himself here too strongly because Perrin has no chill, Hopper tells him to leave and maybe find some chill, Perrin gets kicked out of dreamschool. Damn it, I was hoping for a little more progress but I suppose the very fact that Perrin’s actively trying to learn is a good start. Still, KIND OF UP AGAINST A DEADLINE HERE.

Oh man can I tell you how glad I am to see Faile out of that fucking Malden storyline?

Though there was that odd edge to his eyes. Not a dangerous edge, just a sorrowful one. He had grown haunted while they were apart. She could understand that. She had a few ghosts of her own. One could not expect everything to remain the same, and she could tell that he still loved her – loved her fiercely. That was enough, and so she didn’t worry on it further.

And Perrin for his part seems able to see that Faile does have some ghosts of her own, and also accepts it. Malden was a shitshow but at least we’re getting some character growth and maturity out of it. Not that you can’t get those through other ways, but look, at this point, I’ll take what I can salvage from that whole…deal.

One of the things I genuinely like about how Perrin and Faile are handling the aftermath is that they both truly seem to understand. They understand that the other has been through some shit, and that they’ve been hurt in ways that may not be immediately obvious, and even that there are some things they don’t understand. But neither blames the other for that. Perrin doesn’t blame Faile for whatever happened in Malden and for whatever she had to do, even though he has no idea what exactly that might be. He may assume the worst – whatever the worst is, in his mind – but he makes it very clear that he isn’t holding that against her. And Faile, for her part, understands that Perrin has also probably dealt with some things that she doesn’t know the details of, but where that once may have incited insecurity or jealousy, now it’s just…part of the way things are, and she loves him and knows he loves her and that’s enough.

“I didn’t sleep with Berelain,” he said, voice gruff. “No matter what the rumours say.”

Dear, sweet, blunt Perrin. “I know you didn’t,” she said consolingly.

Honesty! Communication! Conversations in which characters just get straight to the point and state something clearly! Relationships that include a stronger and stronger element of trust!

You know, maybe it’s not actually all that suprising that, given this is the Wheel of Time (and Absolutely No Communication), it took a two-month slavery interlude, four books, and a battle to achieve something like that.

Snark aside, it is genuinely nice to see.

“Perrin, haven’t I explained this? A husband needs to know his wife is jealous, otherwise he won’t realise how much she cares for him. you guard that which you find the most precious. Honestly, if you keep making me spell things out like this, then I won’t have any secrets left!”

That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever to me and I’m not sure how much sense it makes to Perrin, but the important thing here is that she’s explaining her thought process and behaviour rather than assuming he will know what she’s doing and why. They both seem to have come a long way in that regard – mostly, I think, by realising that the other person just doesn’t know. They’re more aware of the fact that they’re coming from two very different places and sets of expectations and cultural norms and perceptive filters, and where that was once a source of tension and unintentional hurt on both sides, they’re now making an effort to be more honest and open and understanding, and to trust that, at the end of the day, they love each other.

It was as if she hadn’t quite understood what it was to be a lady until Malden. Oh, she’d had her share of victories. Cha Faile, the people of the Two Rivers, Alliandre and Perrin’s camp members. She’d put her training to use, helping Perrin learn to be a leader. All of this had been important, had required her to use what her mother and father had trained her to be.

But Malden had opened her eyes. […] She had been humiliated, beaten, and nearly killed. And that had given her a true understanding of what it was to be a liege lady.

I have two problems with this. The first, and lesser, is that it feels like Sanderson again explaining a little bit too much – telling rather than showing. A little annoying, but I can deal with it; I think what irks me about it is more that it’s trying to paint Faile’s section of the Malden storyline as necessary and All About Her Character Development rather than…Damsel in Distress who is blocked at every turn from doing anything at all to rescue herself, is forced to rely on a man who may or may not ask a price for that safety, and in the end is rescued by the man who is placed at the centre of this storyline because we all know that the best way to hurt a male character is to kidnap, rape, or kill his female love interest. It’s not about her; it’s about him. At least have the decency to own up to it.

(The fact that Perrin as a character chooses to reject this notion, and acknowledges that Faile suffered and her pain is her own and he has no right to usurp it or hold her responsible for his own suffering by extension is a huge credit to him and to the way he’s written, and I appreciate it to almost an absurd extent, but it doesn’t solve the rest of the problem).

This brings me to the second thing about this that bothers me: She had been humiliated, beaten, and nearly killed. And that had given her a true understanding if what it was to be a liege lady.

Discovering strength in times of adversity is a trope for a reason, and that’s not what I have a problem with, because I think there’s a great deal of truth to it, and it can make for some excellent stories. No, my issue lies more in the specific kinds of adversity typically given to female characters, as well as the fact that this once again feels almost like retconning Faile’s storyline for the past few books to make it seem more palatable and more necessary and less All About Perrin.

Why is it that female characters must so often discover their strength only when they are humiliated and degraded, while male characters get to at least bear their pain with dignity as their arcs unfold?

I should clarify that this is an issue I see more in the genre as a whole than in Wheel of Time specifically. This series is definitely better than some at providing equal-opportunities Pain And Suffering For Everyone. The (male) protagonist is locked in a box and beaten (though even then, the humiliation aspect is far more subdued; the focus is agony), one of the (male) secondary protagonists is raped and humiliated for an extended period of time, and a (female) major character faces daily beatings with her head held high and is forging a remade Tower around her in the process.

But.

There’s still an imbalance there, if you stack it all on the scales. And without the rest of the genre exacerbating the issue, this might not be as much of a problem. Unfortunately, though, it’s one of those things that has become frustrating for all the times it’s occurred elsewhere, so now every time it shows up it’s just nails on the damn chalkboard.

Perrin learns leadership by having it thrust upon him in times of emergency. Lives are lost and he holds himself to blame, but he isn’t torn down before he’s allowed to grow. Faile, meanwhile, apparently doesn’t truly learn leadership until she’s enslaved.

Rand is captured and beaten. Egwene is captured and spanked. There’s a difference, much as I still love Egwene’s current storyline.

And then you get the genre as a whole, where the easiest way to generate a tragic backstory for a female character is to rape her. The easiest way to generate a tragic backstory for a male character? Hurt his wife and children. Hang on a second. (Oh, and then there’s the part where said male character is justified in having a vengeance-driven plotline, while the female character who is herself violated is usually punished in some way by the narrative for wanting that, and instead has to learn to love, or to forgive and move on).

Plus there’s the fact that male characters tend to have a much more diverse range of tragic backstories –and sometimes they don’t have a tragic backstory at all. They’ll face challenges and difficulties, but a male hero can make it through a story without degradation, without being actually knocked down himself. Whereas if a female character is written that way, the most common criticisms are that she’s ‘unrealistic’ or ‘too powerful’ or ‘hasn’t earned her ending’. Check out what people have to say about Rey, who is probably the best recent example I can think of of a heroine who gets to just be a hero.

Where are the female heroes who dedicate their lives to vengeance and justice for the ones who murdered their husbands? Where are the female heroes who are unjustly exiled and become noble stoic wandering badasses? Where are the female chosen ones for whom the weight of prophecy and saving the world is pain enough? Where are the female Aragorns, the female Jon Snows, the female Asriels, the female Han Solos? There are entire archetypes that are virtually nonexistent for female characters.

It gets tiring to only see certain roles ever given to male characters (and derided when someone tries to give them to a woman), and it gets tiring to see female characters robbed of agency and dignity in order to progress, while male characters get to hold on to a great deal more of these attributes. Wheel of Time is a lot better than some – in large part due simply to the fact that there are so many women – but it’s not exempt.

All of which is to say, the notion that Faile only discovered what it truly means to be a liege lady while she is enslaved and humiliated and slapped by the narrative every time she tries to reclaim some semblance of agency is…irritating.

Being a noblewoman meant going first. It meant being beaten so others were not. It meant sacrificing, risking death, to protect those who depended upon you.

Okay…and what part of that requires slavery and constant threat of sexual assault and routine humiliation and dependence on a man to rescue and protect you?

Remind me why she can’t learn these same things by braving Trollocs and Whitecloaks to go recruit an army that she leads back to the Two Rivers? Or by co-leading her and Perrin’s people as they take on the twin threats of Masema and the Shaido? Or maybe by being the one to secure that tenuous alliance with the Seanchan, at great risk? Or any number of other options that don’t involve being tied up naked on a table. For instance.

“I don’t care what happened to you,” he said.

She sighed. No, not asleep. “What happened to me?” she asked with confusion.

He opened his eyes, staring up at the tent. “The Shaido, the man who was with you when I saved you. Whatever he did…whatever you did to survive. It’s all right.”

This is the part I like. This absolute understanding that whatever happened and whatever she did, it’s not for him to judge or claim or even ask her about. And he goes out of his way to make that point – not because he wants an explanation or because some part of him is holding it against her, but because he wants to make it clear to her that his silence isn’t in any way a condemnation. It’s okay; it’s not about him; he understands. I am absurdly grateful that this is included – multiple times – in this aftermath, especially because so much else about the whole thing frustrates me.

When the gai’shain women had started to be in danger, the Brotherless had chosen and protected those they could.

Those they wanted to have sex with, you mean.

They hadn’t asked anything for their efforts.

Bullshit.

Well…that wasn’t true. They had asked for much, but had demanded nothing.

If only it were that simple.

It bothers me, this massive oversimplification that’s apparently supposed to make us think it’s all okay. He didn’t outright demand anything, so it’s all fine.

But coercion’s a lot more complicated than that, and this explanation entirely fails to recognise the huge power differential in the situation. Did Rolan force her? No. Did he allow her to believe – without saying or doing anything to reassure her to the contrary – that her continued protection could well depend on his continued interest in her? Absolutely. Faile thinks at various points of how to balance maintaining his interest, of what she might have to do, of what it might come to.

And that is fucked up. “Hey, I can keep you from being raped by these other guys, but only while I think I have a chance of sleeping with you myself.” And even if he would have continued to protect her anyway, he doesn’t tell her that. So while the constant threat of rape may have decreased for her, there’s absolutely still an implicit threat hanging over her head that he does ABSOLUTELY FUCK-ALL TO MITIGATE.

He didn’t demand anything, so it’s fine. He just kept her in a situation where at any moment he could have demanded whatever he wanted and she’d have been hard-pressed to say no, because that might mean foregoing his protection. He let her live with that hanging over her head, this sense that at any moment it could escalate beyond her control and there would be nothing she could do about it. Accede to him or take her luck with the rest. At that point, it may be a ‘yes’ but it sure as hell isn’t freely given consent.

If you feel like your safety depends on someone’s sexual interest in you, it doesn’t really matter whether they’ve made demands or requests. And I hate, hate, the way this reduces it to a simplistic black-and-white ‘he didn’t rape her so everything is fine’.

I may have mentioned I’m not a fan of Rolan.

She had never so much as kissed Rolan, but she had used his desire for her as an advantage. And she suspected that he’d known what she was doing.

Wait, really? We’re really doing this? She was a slave and reliant on his protection, and he continued to pursue her despite her refusing him, but we’re going the temptress/seductress route here? Because it wasn’t his fault,it was really her, she was using her wily feminine wiles and he couldn’t possibly be held responsible for his actions in the face of wily feminine wiles and so really she was the one taking advantage of him, the poor guy. Power imbalance? Slavery? Coercion and a sense of entirely conditional safety? Nah, she led him on and used him and he was powerless to resist her. Of course. So really he’s the victim here.

Fuck that whole narrative and the horse it rode in on with an unlubricated chainsaw.

Of course he knew what she was doing, because he created the entire damn situation in which she felt as if she needed to do it, and still did absolutely nothing to give her any indication to the contrary.

[Perrin] had changed during these two months, perhaps as much as she had. That was good. In the Borderlands, her people had a saying: “Only the Dark One stays the same.” Men grew and progressed; the Shadow just remained as it was.

This, I like. The Wheel of Time turns…and ending that, ending change, is just another kind of annihilation that masquerades as eternity.

Also, character development! Self awareness!

“Has anyone discovered what happened to Masema?”

‘I don’t know; has anyone discovered what happened to that knife I…misplaced? Seen it anywhere? Shame, I liked that knife.’

“Blasted colours…I don’t want to watch you sleeping, Rand.”

I don’t know, I’d be grateful Rand is getting any sleep at all, really. Also, just talk to Mat. You could be getting a much more awkward display. Take what you can get.

“What happened to your hand? Light-blinded fool, take better care of yourself…You’re all we have…”

Ah, this is…there’s something almost achingly soft and gentle about this, about the unfiltered moment here where Perrin’s barely even aware of what he’s saying but this is what he says. Where you see Rand’s pain not even through another’s eyes, but a step removed from that, and it serves as a lovely sad reminder of how very human Rand is.

And it’s striking, because when you actually see Rand in the story, either through his own eyes or someone else’s, that’s…not really how he comes across at this point. Especially to other characters, but even to the reader his pain has become something of a constant, a part of the status quo. And his humanity is slipping. He can’t let himself feel any of this, and those immediately around him can’t see it, and so you just…don’t. It takes a moment like this to evoke the memory of the Rand from the beginning, of the boy who was Perrin’s friend, of the fact that all their hopes rest on this young man who has been pushed far too far, beyond all reasonable endurance, who is coming apart and yet can’t let go. He’s all they have, but there’s a fondness that comes through here, a gentleness, that says not ‘saviour’ but ‘friend’.

Faile’s off on some midnight errand; what else is new.

Chiad smiled back. “He did not expect that one of the men he killed would turn out to be the one to whom Bain was gai’shain. I do not think Gaul is happy to have both of us serving him.”

I do not think I’m happy to have both of them serving Gaul. How come he gets to carry his spear to the Last Battle but they don’t? Why do we have to resolve this love triangle by making both fighting women put aside their spears to serve the man? I mean, this is not the hill I’m going to die on, but…sigh.

Faile unwrapped the bundle. The contents weren’t anything extraordinary. A small handkerchief of yellow silk. A belt of worked leather which had a pattern of bird feathers pressed into its sides. A black veil. And a thin leather band with a stone tied at the centre.

Ah. That’s what Faile’s midnight errand is. They’re holding a funeral.

“Four people are dead,” Faile said, mouth suddenly dry. She spoke formally, for that was the best way to keep the emotion from her voice. “They protected us, even cared for us. Though they were the enemy, we mourn them. Remember, though, that they were Aiel. For an Aiel, there are far worse ends than death in combat.”

I…this is lovely and on one hand I absolutely understand why it’s here, but on the other hand I’m really, really not here for the redemption of Rolan. Or rather, for the narrative insistence that there was nothing that needed redeeming. I do not come to mourn Rolan, I come to bury him.

Faile had distracted Rolan at just the right moment, making him hesitate. He’d done so out of concern for her, but that pause had allowed Perrin to kill him.

Had Faile done so intentionally? She still didn’t know. So much had been going through her mind, so many emotions at seeing Perrin. She’d cried out, and…she could not decide if she’d been trying to distract Rolan to let him die by Perrin’s hand.

This part works for me, far better than much of the rest of the scene so far. Faile replaying the scene over and over in her head, still not sure of her own motives in that single instant where there was no time to think, only to react. Knowing that this resulted in Rolan’s death, and just trying to work through it. It’s not even a mourning so much as a processing, and it feels raw and honest and it’s one of those questions she’ll probably never have an answer to.

And here, I find that it doesn’t matter so much that I personally cheered when Rolan was killed, because this is entirely about Faile. It’s not about who exactly Rolan was, or whether he’s someone we should like or feel sorry for; it’s just about…those split-seconds in which everything changes and someone is dead and there’s blood on her hands, and friend or enemy he was known to her, and she’s human. There was nothing else that could have been done […] But that made it more tragic. Faile steeled herself to keep her eyes from tearing up like Lacile’s. She hadn’t loved Rolan, and she was glad that Perrin was the one who had survived the conflict. But Rolan had been an honourable man, and she felt…dirtied, somehow, that his death had been her fault.

…No. Sorry, this is where the scene has lost me again. Rolan is not what I would call an honourable man, for all the reasons I’ve gone into at length above. And this notion that Faile feels dirty, feels like she is at fault…it makes me sad, actually. Because we see her feeling shame or guilt, and we see this polished version of him in retrospect that paints him as honourable and his death as a tragedy, and so once again it’s as if the whole thing has been flipped on its head to make him the victim. When there’s never really an honest examination of what he did. I’m not trying to say he deserved to die for it, necessarily, but the lens through which this whole thing has been shown treats him as virtually blameless, and leaves Faile with this feeling of guilt and shame and sorrow. We don’t need more of that. We’re already far too proficient at seeing the Rolans of the world as paragons of honour and pitying them their suffering at the hands of women they’ve wronged.

This shouldn’t have had to be. But it was. Her father had often spoken of situations like this, when you had to kill people you liked just because you met them on the wrong side of the battlefield.

I may have mentioned this one or two hundred times, but I will eat this particular trope up with a spoon. Enemies-by-circumstance, betrayal-by-necessity, enemies-to-friends, friends-to-enemies, the whole notion of ‘the wrong side of the battlefield’. Love it.

But that’s not what this feels like to me. I can’t see Rolan in that light; I don’t see him as one who was a friend, but as one who was simply a different kind of threat. I can’t put him in that tragic role because I hate him for the choices he made and the things he did to Faile, for the position he put her in.

And this whole concept – when you had to kill people you liked just because you met them on the wrong side of the battlefield – could be show so much more powerfully through so many other characters. You have Tylee and Perrin, who have already laid the foundations for this, if one were so inclined. You have Mat and Tuon and “You are not my enemy, but your Empire is.” You have Gawyn, who has fought and killed men he liked and respected, and whose choices have torn him apart. Hell, you have that lovely scene with Ituralde and General Turan. The Seanchan as a whole are a ready-made device to set up all kinds of these small tragedies, if you want to use them. You have a Black Tower of divided loyalties, and no doubt plenty of Soldiers and Dedicated whose chosen ‘side’ is little more than an accident of circumstance. There’s not exactly a shortage of options here, and the fact that this is the one highlighted is…odd to me, and weirdly disappointing.

If she had to go back and do it again, she would take the very same actions. She wouldn’t be able to risk Perrin. Rolan had to die.

But the world seemed a sadder place to her for the necessity of it.

Once again, I am wholeheartedly on board with the overall sentiment being conveyed here, in the abstract, but I so strongly disagree with the way it’s applied in the specific.

Maeric’s death felt like a tragedy. Singing, the Moshaine Shaido ran to dance their deaths felt like a tragedy. The existence of the Brotherless feels like a tragedy. Even the deterioration of the Shaido, and the loss of their identity as Aiel, and the way it has slowly destroyed them from the inside, feels like a tragedy.

If you want to play with the tragedy of circumstance and inevitability and situations in which there are no good choices, in the context of the Aiel, you already have the Rhuidean sequence and everything that follows on from it. You have the Shaido as the continuation – yet another change, from what they once were to something unrecognisable, while all the while fighting to hold to that core of I am Aiel! You have the Aiel leaving the Three-Fold Land and not knowing if they will return; you have their questions of identity and what comes next; you have those who cannot accept the knowledge of who they were and so instead must betray who they are, by breaking bonds of clan or society. You have the deaths of so many Shaido at Dumai’s Wells, in a battle that definitely makes the world seem a sadder place for the necessity of it. You have all of this; you don’t need to glorify a sexual predator.

“Dead by our hand,” Faile said, “or simply dead from battle, these four showed us honour. As the Aiel would say, we have great toh to them. I don’t’ think it can be repaid.”

You. Owe. Them. Nothing.

That’s the whole damn point. That’s where the whole coercion aspect comes in; in creating a sense of guilt for not repaying, in creating a feeling of obligation or necessity or debt, the coin of which is made very clear even if it is not demanded.

“But we can remember them. The Brotherless and one Maiden showed us kindness when they didn’t need to. They kept their honour when others had abandoned it. If there is a redemption to be found for them, and for us, this will be it.”

This whole scene, just taken as itself and without everything that’s attached to it, is beautifully done, and strikes such a lovely tone.

I just can’t appreciate it because I so fundamentally hate so much of the message it buys into and conveys, and it frustrates me that there’s absolutely no acknowledgement of that.

“Kinhuin had only just started looking out for me,” Alliandre said. “I know what he wished for, but he never demanded it. […] Even if I turned him down, he would have helped us.”

That last bit would go some way towards making this a little bit better if I had any faith at all that it was true. And we didn’t see much of Kinhuin, so maybe he really was a decent guy. But what we did see, of Rolan, did not…really match that. He didn’t say he wouldn’t help Faile if she turned him down, but he sure as hell did not say he would, and he made his interest in her and his…courting…of her so much a part and parcel of his protection of her that it would absolutely have been a risk to trust that he’d continue to protect her anyway.

Also there’s the fact that he didn’t stop asking her and pressuring her even when she did say no, which is bad enough when there isn’t the whole slavery issue thrown into the mix, but as it was she had no way to get away from him and he showed that ‘no’ didn’t mean a whole lot to him.

So in conclusion, nice try but I’m not really buying it. At least, not as a blanket statement for all of them.

“Maretha hated what the other Shaido did,” Arrela said. “But she stayed with them for her clan. She died for that loyalty. There are worse things to die for.”

That, there, is much closer to what I do actually find sad about the Shaido and the whole situation of those caught up in this. That’s the tragedy. Just…remove the part where Rolan and the others kept asking for sex and this whole thing would be SO MUCH BETTER. Agh.

The past was a field of embers and ash, an old Saldaean proverb said, the remnants of the fire that was the present.

That is beautiful.

And maybe it’s only a Saldaean proverb, rather than a Borderland one, but it reminds me so strongly of:

“Burning your future? It will sorrow a great many, I think, when you die in the Blight.”

“Burning my past,” [Lan] said, rising. “Burning memories. A nation. The Golden Crane will fly no more.”

[…]

“You said you burned your past. Let the past have its ashes.”

So…there’s that. I’m not sure I even have a point to make here except that this scene in New Spring destroyed me and that thought from Faile brought it immediately to mind and I’m fine, everything’s fine, this is completely 100% okay, I have no problems at all being reminded of Lan burning his past and not believing he has any right to a future because his life is tied to that fire.

(The past is a field of embers and ash, but the Golden Crane flies for Tarmon Gai’don).

Anyway. Back to Perrin.

He stared up in the darkness, trying to make sense of Hopper and the wolf dream. The more he thought about it, the more determined he grew.He would march to the Last Battle – and when he did, he wanted to be able to control the wolf inside of him. […] He had some decisions to make. They wouldn’t be easy, but he’d make them.

And so Perrin at last is taking his final steps on the road that will lead him to the finale. He isn’t lost anymore; he still has decisions to make and things to learn, but he knows now what those are. He knows what he needs to do and he’s not running from it anymore, or pushing it away. He’ll face what comes and he’ll face it on his feet.

He was going to have to let Faile ride into danger, perhaps risk her again.

Yes. And given the storyline of the past few books, that’s…an impressive realisation for him to come to. Not an easy one for him to accept, but once again, at least he knows it now. Besides, those are her choices to make.

The decision to face his problems brought him a measure of peace

Yes. That’s the real closure of this previous arc, here. The decision to finally face, head-on, what comes next. To acknowledge what that will require from him. Now he can move forward.

Next (TGS ch 22) Previous (TGS ch 20)

#this was actually a lovely chapter #despite my issues with some of it #Wheel of Time #neuxue liveblogs WoT #The Gathering Storm

38 notes · View notes

galahard · 7 years

Text

Those Left Behind

Author’s Note: So I started this earlier this week, then got hit by the flood that is SDCC. I’ve been struggling with writer’s block for months, and started trying to think of a new take on my favorite AU/trope, soulmates, when this hit me, and I decided to force my muse to work. I apologize that it’s not anywhere near my best work, but mostly I’m glad that I was able to write something again~

Warning so you no one can complain: Harry/OFC (past/no PDA), slight Eggsy/OFC

Read on AO3 here

He felt foolish as nerves flooded through him, even as the girl working the desk glanced up from her screen and flashed him an understanding smile. “Sometimes this part takes a moment, there are a lot of images for the system to scan through. You can have a seat if you’d like.”

“No thanks,” Eggsy muttered, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket to stop himself from thrumming his fingers across the counter top. He’d waited long enough by this point, unable to make it to the agency until a full week after his 18th birthday. There was always the possibility that his soulmate’s records wouldn’t even be available yet if they were younger than him, but something in him whispered that his soulmate would be older. So for now he clung to the hope that he wouldn’t leave empty-handed, but with a name.

An expression he couldn’t quite identify flashed across the girl’s face in front of him, and he’d learned enough sleight of hand from pickpocketing to catch her pressing a small button off to the side as she took a moment before speaking to him.

“Well, we do have information for you, but I’m afraid I cannot pass it on to you directly. If you can wait just one more moment Dr. Sanderson will be able to assist you.”

-------

He’d been saving up for months, which was easier said than done with the piece of shit his mum called her boyfriend living with them. Any money Dean saw him with was liable to be confiscated for “rent.”

The fee to pull your soulmate’s records was nominal, in place to help fund the department but designed so that it wouldn’t be a burden and therefore accessible to everyone, but he’d wanted more than that. He’d wanted enough money so that when he left the agency he’d be able to take his soulmate out on a proper date. Even with his birthday money he knew he wouldn’t be able to afford anywhere posh, but if his soulmate would accept him, hopefully they’d also accept a restaurant that was merely decent; a step up from takeaway or a couple pints.

He hadn’t expected to be spending that carefully hoarded money on a train ticket out to the countryside. He’d stopped at the first liquor store he came across and bought the cheapest fifth of whisky he could find, cracking it open and taking a swig as he pushed open the door and kept walking.

The return ticket was resting safely in his pocket, so the last of his money was spent at the florist, who was kind enough to give him a larger bouquet than he could afford after he requested directions to the cemetery.

Outside the traffic was beginning to pick up as people got off work and moved on with their lives, blissfully unaware of the turmoil rolling through him as he followed the scribbled down directions.

It was summer, so the sun was still shining as he found the cemetery and began to wander, eyes skimming names quickly. It still took the better part of an hour before he stumbled to a halt, staring at the elegant stone in front of him.

Elizabeth Jocelyn Harrison

January 17th 1967 - November 1st 1994

He set the bottle down on the ground and pulled a crumpled paper out of his pocket, the only one Dr. Sanderson had handed him that he’d kept, all of the pamphlets somewhere in a bin back in London. The name and dates matched perfectly, as he already knew they would, but finally he let his eyes drift over to the picture smiling back at him from the wrinkled piece of paper.

“This isn’t how I thought our first meeting would go,” he mumbled at the auburn haired woman grinning back at him, the smile seemingly genuine despite it being a simple snapshot for a photo ID. “I figured the worst fucking thing would be if you just slammed the door in my face as soon as you took a look at me, I didn’t even consider a situation this shitty.”

For a minute he just stood there, unable or unwilling to move, before he stepped forward, crouching and placing the flowers awkwardly in front of the headstone. He wasn’t quite sure how things should be arranged, not used to laying flowers as his dad had been cremated

“Maybe,” his voice cracked and he cringed, even though there was no one about to see him as he stood at an almost 17 year old grave, “it’s better this way. I wasn’t expecting no cougar, and you seem real classy. You probably wouldn’t have known what to do with me, yeah?”

Now that his other hand was free there was nothing stopping from stuffing the paper back into his pocket, unable as he was to throw it away, and he stooped down to grab the still mostly full fifth of whisky from where he set it, tilting it back to take a long pull.

“Fuck.”

--------

“Fuck.”

Eggsy tilted his head back, eyes closed, until his head bumped against the wall. His mum had been beside herself when he’d rang to let her know he probably wasn’t going to make it home. Dean was probably celebrating by now, he’d been saying for several years that Eggsy’d find himself in prison sooner rather than later, and while technically he was only in a holding cell it still pained him to prove his step-father right.

Stupid fucking fox.

“Unwin.” The name was practically barked, but he took his time and stretched before rolling up and onto his feet, cracking his neck for good measure. God, it was probably going to be so fucking boring in jail.

“You’re out of here.” The policeman was scowling and casting suspicious glances until he all but shoved Eggsy out the doors after he’d collected his personal belongings.

He couldn’t resist glancing behind him in case the cop changed his mind, and then he moved forward quickly, halfway down the stairs before a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Unwin. Would you like a lift home?”

“Who’re you?”

“The man who got you released.”

“Not hearing an answer.”

“A little gratitude would be nice. My name is Harry Hart.”

“So what?” He was looking at the man carefully now, not entirely sure why he was there and certainly not why he’d bother getting him released. He didn’t even know how this “Harry Hart” fellow knew he was locked up. But other than discerning that the man knew how to wear a suit (and well) and that he had a posh sort of voice, he couldn’t figure much out. “I ain’t no charity case.”

“Excellent, because that is not why I am here.”

Harry Hart took a step away from the wall and started down the stairs, not bothering to see if Eggsy was following him but probably knowing that he’d caught his attention.

“As things stand, my employer is rather intrigued by you Mr. Unwin.”

“Eggsy.”

“Alright, Eggsy then. We have had you in our system for a few years, keeping an eye out for suitable candidates for a particular job, and despite your rather peculiar record we think you may be up to the challenge.”

“Look, I ain’t sure what the fuck it is you think you know about me, but I ain’t some common criminal, yeah? Just because you lot got me out of a bit of a bind don’t mean I owe you nothing, and if that’s what this is you can just march me straight back to the damn coppers.”

Now the posh bugger bothered to turn to glance back at him, a smile curling at the edges of his lips. “Don’t worry, we have no use for a thief that gets himself caught as quickly as you managed to. However, the job is a rather delicate one, and I’d prefer not to talk about it on the street. Now then, if I recall correctly there is a pub around here? Perhaps we could speak there.”

There was absolutely no reason to go along with this nonsense, but there was little enough going on in his life to turn down a possible free pint. “Why the fuck not,” Eggsy muttered before bursting into a jog, no longer willing to chase after the back of the man in front of him. “Black Prince ain’t too far,” he found himself offering as he caught up to him and slowed back down to match his pace.

Why the fuck not.

--------

The plane was on autopilot, returning them from Valentine’s base to the chaos of HQ, and Merlin was already turning them into ghosts.

It had all been explained before they’d become candidates. Kingsman kept tabs on those who lost their soulmates prematurely in some form or fashion. Merlin had a program that plucked names from the soulmate registries, and then his algorithms that then collected data on those individuals. They already knew that these people were the ones that no longer had anything left to lose, but they were looking for potential, those that still threw themselves into the challenge of life, and thrived despite adversity. Apparently dropping out of the Marines hadn’t disqualified him, and when it was time to propose a new Lancelot, and he’d been in a convenient holding cell, Harry had selected his file and gone to collect him.

Sure, Roxy had the title, but with the loss of Arthur, Galahad, and apparently Bors and Kay, Merlin was already taking steps to make him a full agent.

The tech guru explained a bit of the process as the two newest Kingsman watched their past selves vanish. Gone were the records of them in the soulmate registry, completely wiped. Their driver’s license information was rerouted, so that anyone attempting to run their registration would be redirected to Merlin, who could overwrite anything in a moment’s notice. A local newspaper article about his early gymnastics success vanished before his eyes, as did one of Roxy winning an equestrian award when she was 14 and smiling awkwardly around braces.

For Eggsy it was surreal. He’d known since he was 18 that he’d never be a complete person, but now his identity was being stripped away with the click of a button. It was peculiar to know that now the only people that knew his mark was his own mother and his doctor, otherwise he might as well have been one of the unfortunates, those born without a mark entirely.

For a split second his mind flashed to Elizabeth, the image of her quick smile and auburn hair imprinted in his mind. She would have known exactly what that small mark on the inside of her thigh, just above her knee, looked like. The slight curves and pointed edge, the tiny half circle right in the middle. She’d probably traced it herself, countless times, wondering why no one had shown up in the registry for her. All he knew was she’d died in a car accident, something involving a deer and driving too fast, but would she have been driving that fast if--

There was an arm wrapping around his waist, and Roxy leaned her head against his shoulder wordlessly. Whether it was for herself or for him was up for debate, but then the radio crackled, a familiar voice filling the cabin.

“Merlin, do you read me? I could use a lift home.”

Something he didn’t know was there loosened in his chest as Merlin visibly swallowed before answering back. “Loud and clear Galahad. I’ll arrange transport.”

--------

No one actually celebrated new agents. There was always the risk that they wouldn’t make it out alive from their first mission, and no one wanted to get attached too easily. But Harry still made the time to invite him over for dinner.

The man had changed in Kentucky. There was just something off, something different. A hint of wildness that couldn’t quite be concealed despite all of Harry’s careful mannerisms. Before the Church Harry had been a perfect candidate for the next Arthur. Now he wasn’t even an option, and Merlin had already taken Eggsy aside and murmured that for a few missions at least they’d be partnered, more for Harry’s benefit than his own. Not even Merlin fully trusted Harry right now, and that was something Eggsy was struggling to come to terms with. It was still Harry, and even if there were a few moments of uncertainty he was the most trustworthy bloke Eggsy knew. He’d trust him with his life, so he had no problems going on missions with him.

“I had already accepted that I would never see you as an agent,” Harry said as he poured a measure of whisky into a two tumblers, tone light and conversational, skirting around the fight they’d had before he’d left. Before Eggsy had watched him get shot in the head, his left eye still bandaged in proof. “So this is an auspicious day, wouldn’t you say Sir Kay? The need for additional agents is never a good thing, but you had too much potential for us to lose you.”

“I still think that final test was fucked up,” Eggsy replied stubbornly, but he still raised his glass, at Harry’s salute, watching for a moment as his mentor tipped the glass back and swallowed before quickly downing his own. “But even after all that shit with Valentine Merlin wants me to have fucking training wheels.” He snorted, hoping Harry wouldn’t pick up on the lie. Their partnership wouldn’t be for him. “Still, ain’t no one I’d rather learn from,” he admitted as he set the tumbler back down.

“It makes far more sense than just tossing you out there on your own,” Harry admitted. “They did that to me, and obviously I survived, but there were others not as fortunate. That is the primary problem of recruiting those with nothing left to lose. Too many of us are willing to throw absolutely everything into the job. I remember the previous Gaheris did not survive his third mission, but he did successfully bring down a child trafficking ring.”

Harry didn’t look up, just reached for the decanter and poured himself a sloppy measure of whisky, a good bit more than the last one, but Eggsy did nothing to stop him or slow him down. He recognized that look, and he hated seeing it on Harry’s face, the lines of grief were even more deeply etched on his face than Eggsy had ever seen them on his own, but then again, Harry had probably met his soulmate. The Gaheris of old probably had too, had probably felt his soulmate being taken from him. Had probably been happy to finally join them. Perhaps that was why Harry seemed off now that he’d returned from Kentucky. It was entirely possible that he’d thought he’d finally get to join his soulmate, and yet somehow he’d lived, and been brought back to them to continue what existence he had, half of a whole that would be broken so long as he lived.

And yet something inside him preferred this. Preferred looking up from his plate to see Harry with a caged look in his eye, knowing that Harry was still here with him, broken as he was.

--------

“Merlin, we needed that extraction team 17 minutes ago.”

Harry’s voice snapped harsher than Eggsy could ever remember hearing it, and while it was difficult to focus on the words he knew Harry was overreacting. They’d cleared the warehouse, there was no one left. All 19 opponents were down, dead or unconscious and bound hand and foot. So one of them had gotten a lucky shot in on his arm. Honestly, that bit sucked, but while it was bleeding pretty good he was pretty sure the artery was fine. He just happened to have a hole in his arm. Of course he’d bleed.

Harry had already wrapped a tourniquet around his arm a couple of minutes ago, slowing the ooze of blood, and he was sitting on the roof with the older man, waiting for their helicopter that was who-the-fuck-knew where, but otherwise everything was over and done with. Nothing too major. They had this. Just like they had for the past several missions.

“Eggsy?” He could feel Harry’s hand patting his face, slightly harder than he appreciated. “Eggsy I need you to stay with me. I need you to stay awake.”

He blinked slowly, trying to force Harry into focus. Right, stay awake. Good plan, but not quite as good as sleep. Harry was running his hand through his hair, which was probably not part of his good plan, because he was probably leaving streaks of blood in between the locks, either Eggsy’s own or someone else’s. Honestly, at this point it was anyone’s guess.

There was a moment where Harry looked uncertain, but then he settled down into a loose sprawl next to him, knees partially drawn up so his feet were still planted on the ground, just in case he needed to get up quickly. “Eggsy, have I ever told you about the first time I went snowboarding?”

Eggsy waited for him to continue, but there was only silence, and he realized Harry was watching him, waiting for an answer. His tongue felt heavy, but he managed to open his mouth, mumbling out a soft “No.”

Harry nodded, but flicked his gaze away, staring into the distance, eyes going unfocused as he began to speak, his voice low and steady.

“It was all Lyn’s idea. In 1987 everything was white. Just when you’d think the roads would be clear it’d snow again, and it was brutally cold. On one of the days before the next storm blew in Lyn managed to drag me out to the lodge her family had frequented when she was growing up. I thought it was a last minute decision, but when we got there they were expecting us, and I found out our vacation had actually been planned for months. That was Lyn for you, she’d suggest something that sounded like she’d made it up on the spot, but she’d already know everything about it.”

Harry’s voice was filled with fondness, and Eggsy found himself trying to even breathe quietly, not wanting to distract him.

“Snowboards weren’t precisely new, but they were beginning to gain popularity. Apparently she’d called ahead and had them order in a couple so they’d be a surprise when we got there. I can still remember walking out of the lodge carrying that contraption, and the look on the ski instructors faces were absolutely horrified. They were trying to keep us from getting on the ski lift, but Lyn just had a way about her. Most of the time she’d convince someone it was their own suggestion to give in to what she wanted, she could make the most outrageous demands and they’d be met with a smile. Hell, even I was going along with it, and I had no clue what I was doing.

“It all went fairly well actually, until we got to the top of the slope. It was just the beginner one, we had no interest in pretending to be better than we were, but it was too late to back out by then.

“There are some people that think snowboarding and skiing are relatively similar. Your feet are strapped down, you’re on snow, and you’re going down a hill. In fact, those are the only similarities. Lyn had at least looked into it a bit, and knew a few of the basic concepts, but I was clueless. I was in my twenties, so I was relatively fit, but it was nothing like I was expecting. We finally maneuvered to the slope and started down, and I figured out pretty much immediately I had no control. Lyn passed me, laughing and telling me to bend my knees, which was all well and good, but I was headed straight for a tree and couldn’t get the damn thing to swerve to save my soul.

“In the end the only thing I could do was sit down and then try to scoot sideways to get out of the tree’s path. The entire way down the hill was me getting the board going, and when it started to pick up speed sitting down so I wouldn’t get too out of control. Lyn was in tears by the time I got to the bottom of the hill. She helped me undo the straps and then insisted I go in to have a hot cuppa and warm up.”

There was a moment of silence then, Harry either lost in the tale or finished with it, but Eggsy was awake now, not struggling to keep his eyes open.

“What about Lyn, she go in with you?”

Harry snorted, shaking his head gently. “Hardly. As soon as I was squared away she headed over to the lift. We were only there for a long weekend, but by the third day she was taking the hardest routes and using my snowboard to teach anyone that was interested. She even managed to sway one of the ski instructors. Wound up leaving the boards with him when we headed home, but we got free rentals there any time we went back.”

Harry fell silent again, but this time Eggsy got the feeling that it wouldn’t be good to break the silence, not matter how tempted he was. He wanted Harry to keep talking, curious about Lyn but also fascinated by finding out more about the man beside him. Thankfully the telltale sound of a helicopter reached his ears before he could make a fool out of himself. Harry stood, back in business mode, then reached down to help him up, slinging an arm around his back to support him as the helicopter landed and they made their way over, a medic jumping down to help him aboard.

--------

Harry hadn’t talked about Lyn since. There had been several more missions, with a staggering success rate that meant no one was keen to separate them, but she simply hadn’t come up. In fact, it was as if Harry had forgotten that he’d told him that story entirely. It was over a month later that he mentioned her again, and this time their circumstances were rather unusual.

For once, they’d been captured. Oh, it was nothing dire. In fact it fit into Eggsy’s plan rather nicely, even if Harry had hissed that he was being rash when he’d suggested it right before he’d proceeded to get them both caught by the goons patrolling the compound.

Really, it was the best way to get an audience with the actual leader of this little cult, and Eggsy had made up some nonsense about visions on the spot, ensuring that they’d at least get to meet him or her before they were killed.

He had this under control, already working at the sloppily tied rope holding his wrists together. Harry’s had been tied up proper, with knots Eggsy was frankly jealous of, but he’d be free of his own and able to work on Harry’s well before anyone came back for them, if their “guards” were to be believed.

He was almost finished pushing the rope through the knot when Harry began speaking.

“I haven’t been in Derby in over 30 years. Oh, I’ve been through, but I never bothered to stop.”

“Damn, 30 years? Course the better question is: why the fuck were you in Derby in the first place?”

“A concert, believe it or not. The Touch Tour, take five.”

The knot was unraveled, but he didn’t bother moving other than twisting his wrists a few times. Harry seemed to be in a talkative mood, and fuck if he was going to let that pass by. “Take five?”

“Take five.” There was almost a bit of pain in Harry’s voice at that, and when Eggsy twisted to glance behind him he could see the older man shaking his head.

“It was a Eurythmics tour. Oh, it started out innocently enough. Lyn liked their music well enough, always turning up the radio whenever they came on. We drove to a concert in Nottingham and it was okay. I had several drinks and we danced, and foolishly I thought that was it.

“Maybe two weeks later they put out a new album, and Lyn was already listening to it by the time I got home. I have no idea how many times she’d listened to it, but she was already starting to sing along. Two days later she had me in Leicaster. It wasn’t until the third concert that weekend that I started to worry. She swore on the drive to London that Here comes the rain again spoke to her on another level. A deeper level,” Harry’s voice had taken on that fond quality again, despite the faint exasperation that was clearly evident, and Eggsy found himself relaxing, simply enjoying the story, grinning as he imagined Harry drug about to the various concerts, trying to picture him when he was in his late teens.

He hadn’t actually seen any pictures of Harry from back then, if the man had any they weren’t on display anywhere in his house that Eggsy had seen. Perhaps Merlin knew something. And since he had no fucking clue what Lyn looked like it was easier to imagine Harry. He could picture Harry’s face as he was pulled along into some nonsense or another, like the look on his face when he knew Eggsy was going to get them captured, and how his expression had smoothed into acceptance. Harry being startled into actually grinning, something Eggsy had only seen a few times. A young Harry dancing to Synthpop, with the woman that Eggsy was fairly certain was his soulmate. Carefree.

“By the end of it we’d been to six concerts in a month, and I had to talk her out of following them to New Zealand in February. She wasn’t thrilled about missing the concert, so one day I came home to find out that she’d cut and dyed her hair to match the cover of Touch. I thought her mother would have a heart attack when we went to Sunday dinner. She probably still blames me for it.

“I would pay a lot of money to not have to remember every single word of their earlier albums,” Harry added with a groan, and Eggsy let out a snort of laughter.

“I bet.” He was about to say more, but at that moment a door slammed somewhere near their vicinity, and just like that the easygoing mood was shattered. “You got your ropes undone or?”

“Please,” Harry scoffed, “I was free before you bothered untying the rope around your ankles. We’ll maintain our positions until we ensure that their leader is actually here though. You focus on subduing him, I’ll take care of the rest.”

And just like that they were back in business, eager to maintain their near perfect record.

-------

He should have known better than to take a break for tea with Roxy. She was far more perceptive than she had any right to be.

“You’ve got that look again, penny for your thoughts?” One perfectly groomed eyebrow was arched at him as she took a sip of her tea, and not for the first time he wondered how she managed to drink it without adding anything to it, not even a squeeze of lemon.

“I ain’t got no look,” he muttered, but they both knew he was putting on a front, and with a sigh he slumped back against the headboard, careful to not jar his neck. It wasn’t much, just whiplash and a concussion, but Merlin wanted him to take it easy for a day or two.

“It’s just, sometimes Harry tells these stories, alright? Normally when we’re up shit creek without a paddle. Pretty sure he just does it to distract me, but damn it works. Thing is, I’d fucking swear they’re about his soulmate. Don’t make sense otherwise. But I can’t fucking stop thinking about them.”

He was classy enough that he wasn’t going to spill all of those stories, and there was another part of him that flat out didn’t want to. That liked imagining that other than Harry he was the only one that knew about Lyn’s horse bolting, and how she’d emerged from the woods hours later with mud splattered up to her neck, swearing Harry into silence as he kept look out while she rinsed off in the horse trough. He’d had to suppress laughter as Harry told him about misdirecting one of the stable hands, shoulders shaking as he tried to keep up their surveillance on the Bulgarian diplomat.

Then there were the pranks she’d pulled on one of their mutual friends while they’d been in University, and the way that Harry’d actually helped that friend prank her back. All he could think of was the devious grin that had been on Harry’s face when he’d recalled Lyn emerging from the Dean’s office, face scarlet, but he just couldn’t picture Lyn’s face as she realized what had happened. Apparently she’d accepted the joke with grace, something Eggsy was absolutely certain he wouldn’t have been able to do, and both Harry and their friend, Rebecca, had helped Lyn with her punishment of cleaning off a wall coated in graffiti.

No, those were stories he was keeping to himself, but it was probably okay if he talked about them. “I know it don’t make no fucking sense to want to hear stories about someone I ain’t never met. I got that. Still want more though. Can’t just fucking ask for more, you know?” He shrugged and glowered at his tea before taking a large drink, not really caring if he slurped.

For a moment Roxy mulled it over before shrugging. “I suppose the obvious explanation is that you’re fixated on these stories because they’re a part of Harry. I don’t know him nearly as well as you, but he’s more open with you than probably anyone but Merlin.” She set down her mug carefully before leaning forward a bit. “I’ve seen the two of you together, it would certainly make sense if you were interested in him.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel like this is all fucking better somehow?” Eggsy fought back the wave of hysteria that threatened to burst forth. “My soulmate was some old bird, and Harry’s was also female, and at least someone close to his damn age. And they’re both dead.”

Plus, her explanation didn’t quite ring true, and he wasn’t sure how to explain it to her so that she’d understand. It really wasn’t just Harry that he fixated on, but Lyn too. The more he heard about her, the more he wished he’d been able to meet her. It sounded like the 80s had been a real lark.

“Just because your soulmate is dead doesn’t mean you are,” Roxy said quietly, but her voice carried easily in the small room. “You still have options. In case you weren’t aware, Percival and the previous Lancelot were in a relationship. Lancelot was in our situation, he lost his soulmate before he found them.”

“And Percival?”

Roxy signed, twisting to glance at the door to make sure one had entered in the past couple of minutes. “His soulmate is still alive actually, the bloody wanker. He’s one of those religious types, the type that doesn’t accept bonds that are not male and female joined together. I don’t know exactly how he rejected him, but Percival found his way here somehow, and other than your record with Harry he’s the most successful agent that Kingsman has. You can have a life beyond your mark.”

“Yeah, but none of that changes the fact that Harry’s straight, and I’m supposed to be.” Because he wasn’t going to deny that he was, in some way, drawn to Harry, it’d just be a waste of time. Being with Harry was simple. Oh they argued, but then again life would be a fucking bore if everyone just agreed all the time.

Roxy set aside her cup of tea and settled back in her chair, lifting her feet up to rest them on his bed, legs crossed at her ankles. “If you like him then you should have figured out already that not everything is black and white. As far as you know this could go both ways, and I think you may as well take a risk. Sure, you can’t just go around prying into his past to hear stories about his soulmate, but there’s plenty you could be doing.”

“And with all this going on you’re not bothered by the fact that he’s over twice my age?”

Roxy shrugged. “Sounds like you might be, but wasn’t your soulmate a bit older than Harry?” A grin flitted across her face. “It seems to me like maybe you’re attracted to cougars. It’s not the type I’d have pegged you for, but now I can see it.”

Eggsy didn’t even bother to feel bad when his spare pillow smacked her squarely in the face, and then he proceeded to blatantly point out his injury to spare himself from retaliation (for now). But despite their chat not everything seemed to be quite as easy as she made it out to be, so for the time being he simply tucked aside her observations. He could deal with those later.

---------

Things were different this time. In the past Harry’s stories had always been told by him in a relatively calm voice as he sought to distract or entertain Eggsy for some reason.

This time, Harry’s blood was oozing through Eggsy’s fingers as he pressed down on Harry’s stomach, desperately trying to staunch the blood flow. It was Harry that needed to stay awake this time, but it wasn’t like he had any stories to tell him. A visit to a gravesite wasn’t exactly an uplifting tale.

“You know, all this time and you still ain’t fucking told me how you and Lyn met.”

He wasn’t actually sure if it would work or not, but after a moment Harry closed his eye and gave a tiny nod. “I believe you may be right.”

Still there was a noticeable pause before Harry spoke again, the gap filled with Merlin assuring him that a medical evac was on it’s way.

“Lyn was a debutante, the proper sort. Her family was actually minor nobility, though they didn’t really have a title to speak of. They still had a nice estate though, and money. Money old enough that no one bothered to point out that she simply went by her name.”

Harry’s voice was soft, but it wasn’t like Eggsy was going anywhere soon as he applied pressure. “My mother forced me into attending a few blasted social events here and there, but we really hadn’t met. I was waiting outside, looking for the girl I was escorting in so we could be announced and then I could hit up the hopefully spiked punch, when Lyn swooped in.

“Back then, Lyn didn’t always think out her plans. All she was thinking about was the fact that her date had a crush on mine, and someone should let them be together. She’d sent them in together, then come to find me so she’d still have an escort.

“All in all, it wasn’t the riskiest thing she ever did, but judging by the way the room was shocked into silence at our appearance, it was a bigger deal than I’d realized.” There was a wry smile on his lips, but it sharpened into a grimace of pain quickly enough.

“My family was new money, and that meant that I was entirely unsuitable to be her escort. Everyone else knew it, I had no idea who she was, and to Lyn it simply didn’t matter. In fact, once people started reacting I think she was more determined to have fun than before.”

All of that sounded amazing, but what was even better were the flashing lights of an ambulance now visible as it rushed toward them. There was the tiniest twinge of guilt that even despite Harry’s predicament he was losing himself to this tale, but he didn’t have it in him to stop the older man from speaking.

“It was just so easy to get along with her. I hated those stuffy parties, but two hours into it she drug me off to the gardens, getting me alone so she could show me her mark. After that no one could deny that we were meant to be together, even though her parents were dismayed at which family I’d come from. They finally, and grudgingly, accepted me, deciding that there were people out there even more unsuitable than me, and we all know Lyn would have taken to them just as quickly. She never stood by that classist nonsense.”

Harry probably would have kept speaking, but the medics were tumbling out the back of the vehicle to take over, and as soon as others arrived on the scene he closed off. He did, however, open his eye again, meeting Eggsy’s before the medics brushed him out of the way.

-------

He was obsessing.

He knew it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter what he tried to focus on, Harry’s words twisted through his brain. Every story, sure, but also every minute detail of those stories.

He was even starting to dream about them. He could hear Lyn’s laughter in his mind, not some flighty little giggle but rather a deep belly, gasping for air sort of laugh. She probably touched Harry when he made her laugh, fingers dragging on his back or briefly lighting on his arm, little gestures that he longed to make himself. Most of his downtime was spent imagining those moments, and he was fairly certain he was starting to go mad.

Merlin actually made it worse.

The Scotsman had taken him aside while Harry was still in surgery, informing him that Harry never told those stories to anyone else (though of course Merlin knew of them, they were constantly monitored on missions after all), and cautioning him that if either of them seemed compromised they would have to be assigned separately. He knew he should have taken it as a warning, but instead Eggsy could only focus on the fact that Harry was opening up to him specifically.

Perhaps Roxy had a point. It seemed possible now that Harry had some sort of interest in him, but there was always the risk that he merely considered Eggsy his protege, and that Eggsy was reading too much into something entirely innocent.

What it meant was that he avoided Harry’s room in the medical wing for two days, finally showing up after Roxy gave him shit about it.

Just walking into the room, seeing Harry sitting up and reading a newspaper, somehow relaxed him. All of the sudden it seemed foolish that he’d been avoiding dropping by in the first place, and he paced over to the side of the bed, holding out a Carmello. “Was going to bring you something stronger, but I figured whisky would fuck with the bloody pain meds.”

“Trust me, anything is better than the swill they’re serving.”

Harry’s tone was dry, but Eggsy had already noticed the change in his demeanor since he’d walked in. Harry was sitting up a little straighter, and as soon as he took the chocolate from him he was unwrapping it, breaking off a square and biting in. Somehow when he ate it the caramel seemed to just string delicately back where it had come from, rather than on his chin or fingers, the way it always did to Eggsy.

“Yeah? Well you’ve been here longer than I have, why ain’t you done nothing about this shit yet? Last time they gave me some sort of fucking gravy that they seemed to think was mashed potatoes. Fell straight through my damn fork.” He shuddered to think of it, but the memory still haunted him. It was unreasonable how bad the food was for those that were injured, especially since the food was otherwise palatable if you had to eat at HQ.

He accepted the next square of the bar with a nod of thanks, popping it into his mouth all at once to avoid the caramel predicament, then absentmindedly licking his fingers.

“Is it the food you were avoiding?” Harry queried, aiming for nonchalant, but Eggsy was pretty sure there was an undercurrent of something else there. His suspicions were confirmed when Harry continued. “I was wondering if I’d somehow managed to scare you off.”

“Please.” Eggsy snorted at the idea as he moved a couple of things off of the nightstand so he could sit, unable to be bothered with dragging one of the chairs over from the corner of the room. “I’m used to you not avoiding bullets by now. I recommend avoiding them, it’s fucking convenient to not get holed up in a hospital bed for days.”

“I was more concerned that it was my stories that put you off. I am well aware that it’s slightly peculiar in our line of work to tell someone else about our soulmates.” Harry wasn’t looking at him now, eye fixed on the door, the partially eaten chocolate growing sticky as it warmed between his fingers.

“I don’t mind.” The words slipped through his lips easily, because he really didn’t have to think about them. “Actually, I like them. Lyn seemed like a fucking bad as--” he snapped his mouth shut, wishing now that he’d actually stopped to think before speaking, especially when a strangled noise left Harry.

He glanced up, concerned, and that was when he realized the bastard was actually laughing.

It seemed like ages before Harry managed to get himself under control, though in reality it probably wasn’t that long. Long enough for Harry to have to place a hand over where he was bandaged however. “Damn, she’d have enjoyed hearing that. I think she would have liked you.” There was a pause, one Eggsy didn’t know how to fill, or even if he should, before Harry spoke again. “That’s probably why it’s so easy to talk to you about her. Lyn was larger than life. Of course, she normally planned out her stunts, so she was fully aware of the danger, but I think she’d have appreciated how you just throw yourself into things.”

The room lapsed into silence, but it was an easy, familiar sort of quiet, something they enjoyed for quite a few minutes before the one question that Eggsy knew he shouldn’t ask finally succeeded in shoving its way to the forefront of his mind.

“Harry, what happened?”

It was the wrong thing to say, and for the first time he watched Harry close down at something he said, his expression shuttered.

“I think it’s time for my next dose of medicine,” the older man said tersely, pressing the button to call the nurse, and Eggsy wasn’t going to push it.

He did pause at the door however, turning slightly but not enough to actually look at his mentor. “Get well quickly, alright? It ain’t the same without you.”

-------

It took several missions after Harry was back on his feet before he actually talked about Lyn again. It wasn’t even a full story, merely an observation that she’d hated Guy Fawkes Day, because she hated fireworks, though Harry didn’t explain why.

But in a way the remarks felt like forgiveness, and for the first time in several weeks Eggsy actually slept the entire night through.

When he woke up he changed Harry’s ringtone to Here comes the rain again, then headed off to M&S rather than scrounge for breakfast in his flat.

-------

He didn’t know how Harry could do it, because just thinking about him being up in some hotel room with the ambassador sickened him. She’d been tipsy, dragging Harry into the elevator with her by his tie, and Eggsy’s stomach had been in knots ever since.

At his request Merlin had muted the volume Harry’s mic would have sent him, telling him in a voice that was far too gentle that he’d unmute it if there was any vital information coming through that Eggsy needed to be aware of, but for now he couldn’t decide which was worse: listening or dealing the with almost crushing silence.

Finally there was the faintest sound of his earpiece coming back online. “Sir Kay, I may require some assistance with this extraction. It seems as though the ambassador has guards posted in the hall. Two of them from what I can tell, but they have earpieces, so there may be others in the hotel.”

“Understood Galahad. I’m two floors below you, so I’ll be up momentarily. Merlin, what’s our quietest option?”

He made his way to the stairs, trying to fight back the sick feeling in his stomach, taking the stairs at an easy pace as he waited for Merlin to get back to him.

“The stairs are you best option for stealth, they’re taking turns patrolling the floor, but there are corners. Wait for my signal before you exit the stairwell. You’ll want the second door on your left. Let the door click shut, it may get their attention and they’ll go to investigate.”

He did as instructed, briskly walking down the hall to the room indicated, which turned out to be a small supply closet. He had barely made it inside, the door barely cracked open, when the guard moved past his hiding place, intent on the stairwell door. Eggsy focused on silence as he slipped out the door, moving up and aiming a well aimed blow to the back of his head, catching the man before he fell so he could lower him to the floor easily, then quickly stripping him of the radio and earpiece, putting it into his free ear.

“Alright Kay,” Merlin’s voice was back in his ear. “Move toward the end of the hall. On my mark you’ll round the corner to catch the guard at the door’s attention. Galahad, wait three seconds then exit the room. The guard should be distracted, and you should be able to drop him before he raises an alarm.”

Eggsy said nothing, not risking the noise as Harry made a small indication of acknowledgement. Merlin had access to cameras as well as their glasses, he would know when everyone was in position.

On his mark he rounded the corner, easy as you please, the guard jolting when he realized that Eggsy wasn’t his partner, then after a split second raising his weapon.

It was the split second that fucked him over, because Harry was there, knocking the guard unconscious in a disturbingly similar way to what Eggsy had just done, lowering the man and stripping off the ear piece and radio precisely as he’d done, then nodding toward the elevator.

He managed to make it to the elevator, which opened despite neither of them pressing a button, Merlin having taken control and sending it straight to them, bypassing the floors that would simply have to wait for one of the others. But once they were in, the door closing next to him, there was nothing else to focus on but Harry. Harry who looked almost as pristine as usual, except for the fact that his tie was still crooked, and all Eggsy could picture was the Ambassador’s immaculately manicured nails wrapped around the fabric.

That was the only explanation he had for why he reached out, intending to straighten the tie back out, and the next thing he knew he was stepping forward, surging up to the balls of his feet to press his lips against Harry’s.

After a second his brain caught up to his body, his eyes flying back open, and he would have scrambled away if it wasn’t for the fact that just then Harry responded, kissing him back.

It wasn’t perfect. He’d practically attacked Harry’s mouth after all, but that didn’t seem to actually be a problem. It was still somehow the best kiss of his life, and in fact, the kiss was lingering, and it probably would have continued without Merlin buzzing in their ear.

“Find some other time to do this, if I hold the elevator much longer it’s going to become obvious. Plus, you two really need to clear the area. You’ll have plenty of time to work out whatever this is later.”

------

The only thing about figuring things out later was that it required words, and figuring out feelings, and other things that would have been a lot easier if they’d just spent a few more minutes in the elevator rather than being awkwardly stuck in a car with no idea what to say, then being separated for debriefings. Now it was the next day, and he was no closer to knowing what to say than he’d been in the elevator, and Roxy had been sent to Sterling, so it wasn’t like he could just hop over to her flat to beg for advice.

However, there was one other person he probably needed to tell about this.

He’d only done this a couple of other times, that first time, when he’d come back from the Marines, and when he’d become an agent, but by now there was certain ritual to it. He had access to a car now, but it just seemed right to take a train out, stopping and getting that same cheap-arse bottle of shit he’d snagged the first time, then heading to the florist. The bouquet was larger this time, he could afford better, and she deserved better. Maybe someday he’d be able to look up her family without breaking down, and could find out what flowers she preferred, but for now he let the florist pick out an assorted bouquet, assuring her it was perfect before he headed down the lane toward the cemetery.

It was always a relief to get there and see that the cemetery was actually kept up. There were no weeds daring to grow disrespectfully around her grave, and the headstone was in good condition. He set the flowers down, fussing with them for just a moment before sitting down and cracking open the bottle, needing a swig to get him started.

The alcohol burned as it went down, it was shit after all, and maybe he was fucked in the head to be here in the first place, but it just seemed right.

“Look, I know it’s been a while, but shit just keeps happening, yeah? Got some intel yesterday that should save half of the free world or something like that, so at least I’ve got a good reason. Mostly though I came to tell you about what happened afterwards. I ain’t so sure you’d be happy for me, or if you’d call me a twat for even being here, but that’s always been the problem, ain’t it? I don’t know what you’d think, so I ain’t got no fucking clue if you’d be pleased that I maybe found someone else, or if you’d rather I pined for you forever.

“Fucking hell, even I don’t know if I’m happy about it or not. I mean, he didn’t pull away, but what does that even fucking mean? I could have screwed everything up, he trusted me, and I just risked all of that for a kiss.”

He took another long draught from the bottle, not caring about the burn, and was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “He’s like me you know. Lost his soulmate, but at least he got the chance to know his. Here I am, talking to your grave for fuck’s sake. Just seemed wrong not to tell you. It’s weird, right? I keep trying to tell myself it’s fine cause you ain’t around, but it still seemed wrong not to tell you. I mean, I guess if things were swapped I’d want you to find someone else, so I hope you’re okay with this. And if you ain’t, well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t haunt me or some shit like that.”

In the distance a car door slammed, but he didn’t pay it much mind. He’d said the important bits, and he was young, with a functioning liver. He took another swig, staring at the tombstone and trying to imagine what his soulmate would really think of all this. Probably surprised he’d be interested in a bloke since his soulmate was a woman, probably not surprised at the whole age difference. Roxy was probably right, he’d never realized it was his type but he hadn’t really been attracted to anyone at school. Too immature. And surely his own soulmate would prefer that he go out there and find happiness than mope around at her gravesite, though he still had every intention of coming back every couple of years like he had been.

“What the fuck are you doing.”

He’d been lost in his thoughts, his guard down, and he hadn’t even noticed anyone approaching. So much for fucking spy instincts. But that wasn’t what startled him the most. No, that was reserved for the fact that he recognized the voice speaking to him as he jolted from his thoughts, staring up at the stormy expression on Harry’s face.

“Did you fucking follow me? How long have you bloody been here?”

He scrambled to his feet, surprise replaced with anger. Anger at being seen at the one place where he truly just let go, and anger at himself for not covering his tracks. Fuck, he had a pair of glasses in his pocket in case he got an emergency call. Harry had probably had Merlin track him, the wanker.

“Why would I be following you,” Harry hissed. “How did you find this place to begin with.”

“How else does anyone bloody find anything? I got the address from the fucking registry.”

For the first time since he’d shown up Harry seemed confused, faltering for a second. “The registry?”

“Yes, the fucking registry. You know, that place you go pay to find out you’re all alone in the world. But what I don’t fucking know is why you’re here. Sod off, I ain’t doing whatever it is you want right now.”

“I refuse to leave. I have no idea how you got my personal information from that infernal registry, but I can guarantee that they’ll be receiving a complaint from my lawyer. And you have no right to send me away from Lyn’s gravesite just because you’re pissed. Go home and sort yourself out.”

“What the fuck’re you on about?” His head hurt, and he had been sure the bottle was still full enough that he wasn’t completely smashed, but Harry wasn’t making any sense. “This ain’t Lyn’s grave, this is Elizabeth’s.”” He raised one finger, pointing it at Harry, and finally it all made sense. “You’re in the wrong place, bruv.”

“I assure you I am not, I’ve been coming here for over twenty years. Elizabeth Jocelyn Harrison, or, as she preferred, Lyn. She hated her first name, she thought it was ridiculous that they’d actually named her after the queen.”

Eggsy stared at him, not quite believing his ears, blood pounding loudly enough in his ears that he could hear his heartbeat. Harry looked as perplexed as he felt, and after a moment there was really only one thing he could think of to do. He set the bottle down on the ground, then reached for his belt, fingers clumsy as he struggled to get it undone.

That if anything seemed to shock Harry out just standing there. “What on earth are you doing.”

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute, yeah?”

He finally managed it, then had to struggle with the button of his jeans and his zip before shoving his jeans down. “See,” he said, voice triumphant, “a perfect match for the mark on Elizabeth Jocelyn Harrison. Said so on the paper, perfect match. Same size, shape, color, and same location. Inner thigh, right above the knee. I’ve got a right to be here, and you ain’t getting me to leave no time soon.”

It was only after he registered Harry’s silence and looked up to see the man fixated on the mark, that his brain started trying to put the pieces together, because now there was a few pieces of information to work with.

“Harry?”

Wordlessly Harry’s hands moved to his own belt buckle, but his hands were far more adept. In no time flat he had his trousers pushed past his silk boxers, and Eggsy could see an identical mark on his leg.

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Harry’s voice was quiet and raw, and he looked up to meet the older man’s gaze. His soulmate’s gaze. “I’ve heard about people with two soulmates, but I’d never actually met any of them. I didn’t know it was real.”

“You think...no, fuck that, I went to the registry. You didn’t come up.”

“Kingsman agent,” Harry reminded him. “Merlin is good at what he does, I’ve been a ghost in the system for two decades. I wouldn’t have shown up if you didn’t get the information until you were 18.”

“And you’d never check because who would ever think they had more than one.” It all seemed surreal somehow, and he could tell Harry was just as lost as he was right now, but he just couldn’t figure out what to say.

Thankfully Harry rescued him. “I suppose I should properly introduce you to Lyn then. She kept her name when we got married, she said she’d already perfected her autograph.”

“You got any pictures of her?” Now he didn’t have to disguise the longing in his voice, and he didn’t even have to wonder why it was there. It all made sense now, because it had just clicked when he’d seen Harry’s mark.

“At home,” Harry murmured. “She was obsessed with Polaroids. I’ve got boxes of them stashed away.”

He was still wrapping his head around the fact that he still had a soulmate and he was actually going to get to learn about Eli--Lyn as a throat cleared, and when he finally managed to drag his eyes away from Harry it was to see a very amused looking policeman. “Gentlemen, I’m going to have to request that you put your trousers back on and vacate the premises. You’ve all but scandalized Mrs. Robertson when she put her cat out in the garden. Around here we realize Mrs. Robertson has a bit too much time with her binoculars, but I don’t think this is the place for whatever you’re planning.”

“Of course officer,” Harry replied, and somehow he was already buckling his belt as eggsy scrambled to work his jeans over his thighs. “Please give our apologies to Mrs. Robertson then.”

“Oh, no need for that, but our volunteer firefighter department would love a visit if you’d be willing to help them with next year’s calendar.”

------

It was surreal being back in Harry’s house. Nothing had changed, but somehow everything was different. It was almost like Harry was seeing it with new eyes as well, because he kept commenting on things. Things that Lyn had purchased, or how she’d made him keep his “creepy” butterfly collection stored away.

For some reason, the fact that Eggsy sided with her, telling Harry that it really was fucking creepy, only made him smile. The small, private smile where Harry tended to glance away, as if somehow that would conceal the emotion.

They ended up having curry delivered, moving to the living room to eat as they shared the couch, sitting close enough to share the photo albums and for Eggsy to occasionally steal bites of Harry’s saag paneer when he was putting something away.

He was picking up a new album as Harry took the trash to kitchen when Harry’s mobile rang.

“Oi, Merlin’s calling.” He tossed Harry’s phone over to him as the man, his soulmate (and no he was not going to get over that any time soon) walked back into the room, desperate to get the painful bagpipe ringtone to stop, and after a moment Harry pressed the power button instead, cutting the call before looking up.

“My apologies, my hand slipped. Now then, where were we. Oh yes, this was in 1988, when she decided that it was a travesty that we’d never been bungee jumping...”

#Kingsman #Hartwin #Harry Hart #Eggsy Unwin #Soulmate au #soulmates #Harry Hart/OFC (past)#Eggsy Unwin/OFC (slight)

17 notes · View notes