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thecreaturecodex · 3 years

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Slaad Lord, Bazim-Gorag

Art by Greg Staples, © Wizards of the Coast.

[Commissioned by @tar-baphon. Dungeon 101 was the first issue of Dungeon Magazine I ever got, and I was instantly taken with Bazim-Gorag. I made him the Bonus Boss of a dungeon I ran my players through in my Prehistoric Campaign (set in a fantasy early Cretaceous, where the world was caught in a cold war between kobolds and troglodytes). The party never fought him, but did kill his lieutenants and decimated his organization.

Bazim-Gorag appears to be Richard Baker’s baby. Baker wrote “Prison of the Firebringer”, his first appearance, for Dungeon Magazine 101, then imported him into hardcovers with the Forgotten Realms book Champions of Ruin. In 4th Edition, during that era’s Forgotten Realms shattering Spellplague (which I’ve talked about how much I hated before), Bazim-Gorag managed to escape captivity and is now a Big Deal Primordial, although he never got a stat-block, only name dropped multiple times.

This version of Bazim-Gorag follows the 4e continuity, albeit loosely. Bazim-Gorag is out, and wants revenge. I figure I already have enough Sealed Evil In A Can type big bad monsters, so I wanted him to be out and active in the world. This is also my first slaad lord! My vision for the slaadi lords is that they’re CRs 21-25, like nascent demon lords or the like. Weaker than protean lords, but still capable of granting spells. They’re also still aberrations, like my other slaadi. Great Old Ones can grant spells and they have a wide variety of types, so I’ve got some precedent. My version of slaadi is all about their adaptability anyway--why shouldn’t they adapt to worship by becoming quasi-divine?]

Slaad Lord, Bazim-Gorag CR 21 CE Aberration (slaad) Standing twice as tall as a man, this orange, rough-skinned humanoid has two fanged, toad-like heads. It clutches a glaive in its muscular hands, and an aura of palpable heat surrounds it.

Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer, Lord of Pandemonium CE male slaad lord of flame, ruin and scorched earth tactics Domains Chaos, Evil, Fire, War Subdomains Ash, Blood, Entropy, Slaad* Worshipers generals, pyromaniacs, slaadi Minions evil giants, iron golems, pyrohydras Unholy Symbol a stone spire wreathed in flames Favored Weapon glaive Obedience temper your weapons in fire, chanting litanies in reflection of those you have slain. If you use natural weapons, place them in the fire, even for a moment. You may heal the burns when you are finished, and this rite still qualifies as your obedience if you are immune or resistant to fire. Gain a +4 profane bonus to saves against fire effects. Boons 1: scorching ray 2/day; 2: fire shield 2/day; 3: fire seeds 2/day *new subdomain, see below

Bazim-Gorag is the Firebringer, patron of pyrrhic victories and collateral damage. His worshipers do not care how many innocents die by fire or how far the blazes spread—only that the target is eliminated and purged through cleansing flames. Only the mad, desperate or callous dare call on the Lord of Pandemonium to help them win their battles. An archmage trapped him on a Material world, dying in battle before allowing the Firebringer free. Bazim-Gorag was able to escape after humiliating centuries and reclaim his throne in the Maelstrom. Now his wrath has a focus, and Bazim-Gorag hunts the planes, searching for powerful conjurers and other arcane spellcasters to slay for vicarious revenge.

Bazim-Gorag’s battle strategies are playful at times. He tailors his tactics to how he perceives the power levels of his foes, using minor spells or fighting in a humanoid form if he sees his enemies as weak. If they prove durable, of if they display powerful arcane magic, Bazim-Gorag’s tactics shift to overwhelming force. He prefers to close with melee spellcasters and keeps back-up at bay with his immense glaive. His fire spells burn so hot that he can strip through most abjurations with ease, and those he cannot he dispels. Due to his previous brush with captivity, Bazim-Gorag is quicker to flee than once he was, but takes revenge when he is able.

Bazim-Gorag’s demesne is the Pandemonium Stone, a floating stone spire that scours the Maelstrom. The Pandemonium Stone is wreathed in an aura of flames, and flies at the will of Bazim-Gorag. This fortress is home to an army of demons, slaadi and stranger beings. Bazim-Gorag keeps his distance from the other slaad lords for the time being, as he is among the weakest of their number and is aware he would likely lose a direct encounter. Instead, he rallies other slaadi to his cause and helps to transport them to the Material Plane to wreak havoc in his name. Death slaadi are his favorites, and rumor is that he may attempt to seize an Abyssal layer and become a demon lord if his power continues to grow.

Bazim-Gorag stands about eleven feet tall. He speaks through both heads simultaneously or in sequence, and one head has a much higher pitched voice than the other. Even in humanoid form, his voice shifts between two tones, giving conversations with him an eerie quality. In his humanoid guise, he typically appears as a man with bright orange and red hair, bronze skin and blazing red eyes.

Slaad Subdomain You venerate a slaad lord, gaining access to the healing and versatility of those chaotic beasts Associated Domain Chaos Replacement Power: The following granted power replaces the chaos blade power of the Chaos domain Rejuvenation (Su) You may grant yourself fast healing 4 for a number of rounds equal to ½ your cleric level. You may use this ability once per day at 8th level, and an additional time per day for every 4 levels beyond 8th Replacement Domain Spells: 2nd—alter self; 4th—dimension door; 5th—telekinesis

Bazim-Gorag CR 21 XP 409,600 CE Large aberration (chaotic, extraplanar, fire, slaad, slaad lord) Init +9; Senses all-around vision, darkvision 60 ft., detect law, detect magic, Perception +29 Aura cloak of chaos (DC 26) incandescent (20 ft., Ref DC 32) Defense AC 37, touch 18, flat-footed 32 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +19 natural, +4 deflection) hp 387 (25d8+275); fast healing 20 Fort +23, Ref +17, Will +23 DR 20/lawful and epic; Immune fire, petrifaction, poison, sonic; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20; SR 32; Weakness vulnerable to cold Defensive Abilities cloak of chaos, dual mind Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee +4 unholy glaive +32/+27/+22/+17 (2d8+20 plus 2d6 unholy; 19-20x3), 2 bites +23 (2d10+5) or 2 bites +28 (2d10+11), 2 claws +28 (2d6+11) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. (15 ft. with glaive) Special Attacks incinerating strike, pernicious fire Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +28 (+32 casting defensively) Constant—cloak of chaos (self only, DC 26), detect law, detect magic At will—chaos hammer (DC 22), fear (DC 22), fire shield, flame strike (DC 23), fly, greater teleport, wall of fire 3/day—quickened contagious flame, dispel law (DC 23), fire storm (DC 26), greater dispel magic, quickened true seeing 1/day—mass hold monster (DC 27), meteor swarm (DC 27), power word: kill, summon slaadi, vision Statistics Str 32, Dex 20, Con 32, Int 21, Wis 21, Cha 27 Base Atk +18; CMB +30 (+32 bull rush, +34 sunder); CMD 45 (+47 vs. sunder) Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Greater Sunder, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Critical (glaive), Improved Initiative, Improved Sunder, Lightning Reflexes, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (contagious flame, true seeing), Stand Still, Step Up Skills Acrobatics +25 (+29 when jumping), Bluff +25, Disguise +25, Intimidate +28, Knowledge (arcana, engineering, religion) +23, Knowledge (planes) +25, Perception +29, Sense Motive +22, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +21, Use Magic Device +26; Racial Modifiers +4 Perception Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Ignan, Protean, Slaadi, telepathy 100 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid, polymorph), slaad lord traits Ecology Environment any land or underground (Maelstrom) Organization unique Treasure double standard (Large +4 unholy glaive, other treasure) Special Abilities Change Shape (Su) When Bazim-Gorag uses his change shape ability, his glaive resizes to the appropriate size. This is an ability of Bazim-Gorag, not the glaive. Dual Mind (Ex) Bazim-Gorag rolls twice for all Will saves, Intelligence checks and Intelligence-based skill checks, and takes the higher value. As a swift action, Bazim-Gorag can perform a purely mental action, such as using a spell-like ability or concentrating on a spell. When he does so, the spell-like ability cannot exceed a 5th level spell. Incandescent Aura (Su) Bazim-Gorag radiates bright light in a 20 foot radius. All creatures and unattended items in the area take 6d6 points of fire damage and catch on fire. A DC 32 Reflex save halves the damage each round and prevents catching on fire. Bazim-Gorag can suppress or initiate this ability as a free action. The save DC is Constitution based. Incinerating Strike (Su) Three times per day as a swift action, Bazim-Gorag can declare a strike an incinerating strike. If it hits, the creature struck takes 100 points of fire damage (Fort DC 30 halves) in addition to the normal effects of the attack. A creature reduced to 0 hit points by this ability is completely destroyed, as per a destruction spell. Pernicious Flames (Su) Any of Bazim-Gorag’s spell-like abilities with the fire descriptor are automatically treated as if under the Empower Spell metamagic feat. Slaad Lord Traits (Ex/Su/Sp) Bazim-Gorag is a slaad lord, a powerful slaad that has assumed quasi-divine traits. A slaad lord has the following abilities:

DR 20/lawful and epic

Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20

Immune to two of the following: charm effects, compulsion effects, death effects, energy drain, fear effects, poison, petrifaction

Summon Slaadi (Sp) As a standard action once per day, a slaad lord can summon one or more slaadi constituting a CR 20 encounter. This is the equivalent of a 9th level spell

Immortal (Ex) A slaad lord does not need to eat or drink, and cannot age.

Capable of granting followers spells, as per their cult entry above

#bazim-gorag #slaad #slaad lord #pathfinder 1e #D&D #forgotten realms #commissions

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ladyartemesia · 4 years

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Fic recs for taehyung? I love your stuff btw I’ve read them all uwu

As a beacon of extra-ness in an already extra world, I am entirely incapable of just recommending fics like a normal blog. No. I’ve got to wax on like a bloomin connoisseur. I have compiled some (but not all) of my favorite works in several different categories and sorted them accordingly. This crazy list is so long I had to add a “keep reading”... but I simply couldn’t bear to leave any of these off the list. They are all so good!

Fics have been divided into 8 categories. Some are under the cut.

▨ FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS and FRIENDS TO LOVERS ▨ ▨ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ▨ ▨ FANTASY ▨ ▨ ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING ▨ ▨ HYBRID and ABO (alpha/omega) ▨ ▨ MULTIPLE PARTNERS ▨ ▨ NEIGHBORS AND ROOMMATES ▨ ▨ TABOO THEMES and DARK FIC (Sex Work/Power Imbalance/Very Unsafe Sex) ▨ ▨

▨ FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS and FRIENDS TO LOVERS ▨

Insomnia by @hobiwonder

This is one of those fics I read and literally could not stop thinking about. It is wildly hot and honestly hilarious. Poor reader cannot sleep and the beautiful bro she’s tutoring offers a rather unconventional solution.

(Ego) Hoe Chronicles: KTH by @suga-kookiemonster

Listen. If you find a niche fan blog devoted entirely to Ego Tae... I’m not gonna say it’s mine. But it’s probably mine. I once told suga-kookiemonster that I would literally read a story about Ego Tae going grocery shopping on a Wednesday night and I stand by that. In this lurid romp, the reader falls into the clutches of everyone’s favorite bohemian sex lord and he rails her into another dimension.

Falling, Falling, Gone by @johobi

Pining (mutual or otherwise) is not really my thing, but I would straight up read Jo’s laundry list if she posted it. As usual I was blown away by how everything she does seems somehow better than any other version of it. This reader is really unique as well, and her relationship with the wildly popular soccer star Tae comes to a sexy and hilarious head at a sort of bachelor auction. With sharp dialogue, delightful subtext, and fantastic side characters, you really shouldn’t miss it. It’s pretty much perfect.

A Friendly Favor by @baeseoul

This is the classic “teach me some sex for another woman” trope and it is done so well. Sweet best friend Tae is looking to benefit from your experience, but his is not the only world about to be thouroughly rocked.

Officer Kim and the Criminal Crush by @ddaengyoonmin

This is one of the best twists on childhood friends to lovers I have ever seen. Tae grows up to become a cop and reader grows up to be a societal menace. I won’t spoil it, but it’s the perfect blend of nostalgia, tenderness, and smut. This fic technically doesn’t have a name so I had to give it one to link it. It’s part of an AMAZING series Zoe did that I also highly recommend.

Out of the Blue by @jimlingss

This is one of those stories that blooms throughout the narrative until you are left with this gorgeous flower at the end. I loved the journey of these two characters. It was real and it perfectly captures the experience of finding your soulmate in the person you least expect.

Sin Pijama by @brilliantlybasicb

This fic is a switch culture fic. It is wild wicked hot and this Tae is unreal. I love the way he lets the reader think she is in control just long enough. It is a wild romp with an adorable sequel and honestly you should read it.

Girls Like You by @jjiminah

I was in jjiminah’s asks IMMEDIATELY about this fic because I had FEELINGS. The reader begins wordlessly teasing and tempting Tae on their morning bus ride every day until he is literally losing his mind. Everything that follows is fire. Jjiminah has hinted she will wrote more for these two and I NEED IT.

Sighs and Sonnets by @btsaudge

This fic is beautiful. Like it’s basically art. This is a bad boy who is bad for you. But he has the soul of a poet and the stroke game of a renaissance master. Bittersweet and seductive, this fic is a full experience.

The Text by @taetaesbaebaepsae

Tae is your friend with benefits but it looks like feeling may have been caught by one or more parties. When you attempt to soothe your aching heart with another pretty boy, Tae decides to stake his claim. This was very sexy. The whole fic was sexy.

▨ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ▨

Monster by @neonlights92

Monster and all of its companion series about each of the boys is one of those fics that I reread constantly and also just think about constantly. This is one of the best mafia AUs out there and it’s characters are vivid and unforgettable. Tae’s stubborn resistance to his lovely new wife in contrast with her quiet, clever strength really brings this story to life. A word of warning. The masterlist links are a bit messed up. To read part two you must click on part three. And to read part three must click on part four. The link to part four is at the bottom of part three (or you can just search it on her site. It is definitely all there though).

Dichotomy by @kpopfanfictrash

There is a reason the incomparable Shanna is on this list three times. She is truly incomparable. This is childhood friends-to enemies-to spouses and it is wonderful. I adore this Tae. He is sharp and vulnerable and occasionally heavy handed, but truly a gem. This fic also features one of the best angry sex scenes I’ve ever run my eyeballs across.

▨ FANTASY ▨

Chism by @kpopfanfictrash

The world-building in this story is genuinely awe inspiring. You could write series upon series within this vivid universe. The god of Winter is missing and Summer’s heat burns unchecked for many years. The reader is a warrior with a unique ability tasked with guarding a very interesting prisoner. This story is so good. I mean it is really bloomin incredible. It’s hard to say what I liked best about it, because it was stellar across the board.

Obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash

In the pantheon of delicious Tae incarnations, Obsidian Taehyung is essentially unrivaled as a grey witch who moonlights as a sexy rock star. His extremely erotic clash with a white witch detective plays out as the two of them track down a sinister killer (with the help of some truly memorable side characters).

Out of this World by @ddaengyoonmin

This one is really unique. Tae is a merman scientist on the water planet of Neptune and when the reader and her misguided crew crash into his sea, he takes it upon himself to improve inter-species relations. This fic features excellent world building alongside several twists and surprises. Clever scientist Tae is downright irresistible.

▨ ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING ▨

Picking Flowers by @jamaisjoons

So this story is a journey - truly a beautiful one and it’s a gorgeous addition to the hanahaki genre. There is real pain and I cried real tears, but gosh it was so sexy and so worth it. I was surprised by how truly immersed I ended up in this piece. I lost track of everything else. The end is insanely satisfying, but the journey is really what makes this fic unmissable.

Until Yesterday by @jimlingss

This fic destroyed me slowly then slowly put me together again piece by piece. When I say I went through it - I WENT THROUGH IT. The story is loosely based on the movie “The Vow” and it is just fantastic. Beautiful and tender till the last word.

The Foolish Muse by @bibbykins

This is the story of someone who is deeply in love, but knows they deserve better. It is a sexy and evocative work with allusions to mythology that fit seamlessly into the narrative. I think my favorite part is Tae discovering how much the reader meant to him and what choices ultimately lead them to a really delicious conclusion.

Back to You by @ladyartemesia

The last time I did a fic rec list, it got like 700 notes. Ya girl is not makin the same mistake again. I spent hours on this list. My work is comin along for the ride. Kim Taehyung is the love of your life, until one day he disappears without a trace.

Vacancy by @ppersonna

This one is the only idol AU on the list and I normally don’t read those, but Lindy’s work is too good to miss in any setting. I am thrilled I took a look because what I found was a glimpse into a beautiful relationship that weathers and eventually overcomes the challenges of loving in the limelight. There is a LOT of emotional depth and symbolism which really elevates everything about this lovely story. The reader’s internal struggles in the face of her lover’s fame are extremely well done.

▨ HYBRID and ABO ▨ (alpha/omega)

Eye of the Tiger by @opaljm

I am beyond hype about this story which is (very) loosely inspired by Zootopia and features a cocky tiger Taehyung and a fiesty prey hybrid he needs to fake date in order to keep panther Jimin from murdering him. (Tiger Tae got a tad too frisky around Jimin’s mate and now things are dangerously awkward.) This story is already so freakin good. I cannot wait for the rest.

Silver and Blue by @taetaewonderland

What happens when you get on the wrong side of the right werewolf? Very sexy - very crazy times. Chronologically this is the first of the Silver and Blue series which follows barely civilized were-Tae through his courtship and eventually his relationship with the spunky reader. Holla to all my impreg kink homies. This is the fic for you.

Heat Run by @ladyartemesia

As I said before, the last time I did a fic rec list, it got like 700 notes. Ya girl is not makin the same mistake twice. I spent hours on this list. My work is comin along for the ride. Alpha lawyer V is a man of many secrets, but his well ordered reality spirals wildly out of control when he crosses paths with a fiery omega set on saving the world from his wicked ways.

Beautiful Stranger by @interludemoonchild

This was a wild ride from start to finish. Taehyung is a tiger hybrid shifter who escapes from the circus to be close to a veterinary student he bonded with. There is a lot of interesting twists and surprises in this one. I was definitely screaming at the end.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by @jingabitch

A very young wolf hybrid Taehyung adopts you as his pet human when you are just a kid. After Tae leaves to serve in the military he returns to an adult version of his sweet little princess and chaos ensues. Mind the tags for this one folks. It’s excellent, but there are very triggering themes throughout.

▨ MULTIPLE PARTNERS ▨

Level of Restraint by @lemonjoonah

This is not strictly a Tae fic in that he is only one of three major players in this twisted masterpiece. Lemon is the undisputed queen of the surprise twist and this one is truly brilliant. People dropped this fic in the discord calling it the best fan fiction they had ever read and I am not here to argue with them at all. Fair warning, every word - every inch of this fic is sexy and it’s delicious brand of titillation is wrapped around your psyche good and tight by the end.

Four by @luxekook

The quadruplets next door are fueling your very lurid fantasies. It turns out they have some fantasies of their own... You will need water if you read this fic. This is the original patented Kim Taehyung Horny Hive Mind 4D Experience™

▨ NEIGHBORS AND ROOMMATES ▨

The Heat Wave Series by @curly-bangtan

The original story (chapter 1) in this series is definitely famous, but I don’t know how many people have read all 9 chapters and if you haven’t, you are really missing the incredible journey of two very horny idiots stumbling recklessly towards real and amazing love. Everything is set off when the air conditioner breaks and a pair of wild roommates shed their inhibitions along with their clothes.

Flicker by @chimoona

So this fic started out with adorable neighbor dynamics and ended with erotic rope tying. Baby I was ABOUT IT. This was so bloomin hot and also like sweet and tender. Really a sexy and sentimental treasure.

Not Your Typical Flower Shop Story by @jungtaeyoongles

This story goes from “aww” to “WHAT THE-” real quick. Fast paced plot and twist after twist turn the whole flower shop au upside down and then inside out. I can’t say more because spoilers but like - WOW.

▨ TABOO THEMES and DARK FIC ▨ (Sex Work/Power Imbalance/Very Unsafe Sex)

Extracurricular by @ppersonna

One of my favorite professor-student AUs. The reader writes her gorgeous professor a borderline erotic analysis of several major works of art and he feels compelled to discuss it with her privately. Lindy really outdid herself on this one. It is scorchin. Professor Tae is actually really sweet and somehow that just makes the whole thing hotter.

Akrasia by @nitaescence

This is insanely hot. Emphasis on the insane because it’s basically a super erotic romp where you have sex with a man you don’t know (Taehyung) on a crowded public bus. I literally felt my blood pressure going up the longer I read. Whew.

The Client by @jungkookiebus

This one hit me right in the feels. Taehyung is a sweet and lonely man who has a standing Wednesday appointment with an upscale sex worker. As the story progresses, feelings become involved on both sides. When I say I am checking her page thrice daily for part three... This is so engrossing. And this Tae. I just want to hold him.

Daffodil Dreams by @sombreboy

Tread carefully ladies and gents. This story is excellent, but it is easily the darkest fic on the list and, if you choose to read it, please read the trigger warnings carefully. The reader is a psychologist called in to analyze a very dangerous criminal. As their sessions progress, however, several boundaries are crossed.

Obey by @jjkfire

Taehyung is the most feared and ruthless member of the local mafia and you are the world’s most inept escort. You needed a job, but had no real interest in sex work and you’ve managed to fly under the radar as a glorified waitress until Kim Taehyung himself walks into your agency and decides that you’re the only girl he wants. Oh my gosh I loved this story so much. It was downright amazing and there is a surprise at the end that makes everything even sweeter.

#kim taehyung #bts #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehung fanfiction #viola recommends #fic recs #I CANNOT BELIEVE TUMBLR FORMATTED MY POST SO MY BANNER IS HIDDEN I WANT TO LITERALLY CRY #TUMBLR we are FIGHTING oh my gosh

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fvrxdrm · 3 years

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Through the Valley

Pairing: Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of violence, angst

Setting: Deadlock/Pre-Blackwatch/Pre-recall

Song: Through the Valley (Ellie’s cover)

*****

When the universe was formed, the world was sculpted with rocks, and when the world was sculpted with rocks, strange beings were brought down to earth, and when strange beings were brought down to earth, sins were born, and when sins were born, dissensions were brought to light, and when dissensions were brought to light, war had clouded the visions of many beings and humanity teared itself down, one by one, with metal blades and flying arrows, and evolving into something much more minacious and powerful…

…like a gun.

So much vigor, so much anger, so much power. With one pull of a trigger, one life could be led towards heaven or hell, with no chance of escaping a baneful bullet; piercing through the skin and tearing the flesh, embedding itself deep till the person dies losing blood or be lucky enough to survive such fatal shot.

An excellent marksman’s the only one capable of doing that.

Specifically, those who know their guns by heart.

They are precise. They are rigorous. And they make every shot count. They make sure the target receives the end of their blazing weapons, and they’ll do it again and again till they’re satisfied with the bloodshed they’ve created. Their eyes would gleam with red, and blood would boil deep within their veins.

Even with one shot, those who feel agony could be standing right in front of death’s door.

There’s this marksman though, a gunslinger who seems to have held a gun since his mother gave birth to him. His accuracy cannot be matched even by those whose experiences have passed through the roof. Even with a blindfold on he still knew where to point his revolver at. He was a shit-hot at what he was doing, as they say.

Deadeye is what they call him.

People believe that the Deadeye was a curse that was passed from his ancestors to their descendants, and he happens to be their newest successor, which means he was to hold the malediction whether he liked it or not.

Truth is, it isn’t a curse.

Born by pain and abandonment, he was forced to teach himself how to survive on his own at such a young age. He worked hard to feed himself with enough food to desist from dying from an empty stomach, he rode by rivers and looked out for cacti to give himself something to drink, and most importantly, he taught himself how to pull a trigger and defend himself from nasty foes with the use of a gun he likes to call…the Peacekeeper.

After so many years of living and surviving on his own, a gang who called themselves the Deadlock Rebels took him with them and dinned him on how to rob banks and stir up ruckus in villages and towns. He was happy to have found a family who he could rely himself on even with their twisted intentions, and for the first time in his entire life, he felt rapturous.

Every blood he spilled was a trophy to be held in his hands, every eye that widened in fear had the hunger lurking beneath consume him until he became the monster that he was, every bullet that flew with the speed of light had his teeth grinding together, and every word that spread around town had him grinning with sharpened fangs.

People see him as the devil himself, only softening what was left of his heart when a kiss was pressed against his vulgar lips.

His lover was pristine and innocent, an angel in contrast to the demon he turned himself into. She had bright eyes and a scintillating smile, a touch so gentle and feather-like, a voice so small and warm, and a forgiving heart nobody deserved to earn unless she allowed it to.

Folks have wondered how on earth had she given a killer a chance and had asked the same question over and over again, but she always replied with the same answer as well;

“He was orphaned by evil and war; always have, always will be. Someone as broken as him may not be fixed, but they deserve love just as much as those who have found their place in order to help find their purpose on earth again. There are paths in front of them to help guide them in life, and what surrounds them will give them a reason to stay in the path they’ve chosen.”

Some people agree, some people don’t. But at the end of the day, it’s her belief and children look up to her and admire the goodwill she possesses even though her trust was something to be worried about. She claims she knows what she’s doing and all the world hopes that she truly does.

The heart of his lover would burn at every bruise and every wound the young man would come home with, and every word of what his gang had done would send her heart palpitating in an almost irregular speed. She feared of what was to come, and she hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t end up like the folks who have met the end of Peacekeeper’s barrel.

Years have passed and the man grew into a more ruthless killer. He had a heart of stone but it never forgot the woman who have given him an aspiration better than what they had then. He was going to be head and shoulders above, he promised. Just not now. The devil on his shoulder was still pulling him underneath. And when the day the voices in his head have stopped screaming comes, he’ll find a better home for the two of them; one where they could raise a few children of their own and make love until the sun rises in the east.

But alas, the dreams he had hoped for came to an unfortunate close…

The Deadlocks had been ambushed by soldiers of Overwatch, slowly killing the only family he’s had and taking him and his lover in to probably rot for the rest of their lives. Blue had befogged his vision, but red had risen flames inside of him.

Bullets flew from his tongue the moment he was thrown into a room flooded in black with only a poor excuse of a light hanging above him. He sat impatient, fists clenching and unclenching in fear of what they might’ve done to his girl. She could’ve been suffering from a harrowing death and nobody gave him one last chance to say what must be said before her final moments, and that was enough to untether something wilder inside of him.

He was given two options: he would be thrown into jail and be left there to rot or be given a chance to walk in the right path and leave the wrong, change himself and the world for the better.

The commander had seen something in him: a potential. The woman was right when she said he was forced into a void full of nothing but anguish at such a young age, and pity was what he felt for the gunslinger.

The power he had with his gun was nothing Reyes had ever seen. He was one with Peacekeeper; both thriving to reach the heights with ardor and strength. It would a shame if his talent was just going to be thrown into waste. So, what better way to use it than with noble purpose?

He was right. The offer was better than to slowly sink into the fires of hell. But what’s the point of throwing his hat into the ring if the woman he loves was in the opposite side of the wall? What’s the point of it all if she wasn’t going to be the shoulder he could cry on? What made it even worse was the fact that he was just going to be stuck in a goddamn loop.

Maybe dreams were only meant to be dreams…

It seemed like the world gave him a certain fate; a fate where death was something that would haunt him like a ghost whenever he was in the firing line, a fate where shadows were to be seen in his line of sight, and possibly a fate where he becomes a weapon himself and shoot down those he cared for dearly. And it scared him. But, what choice did he have? He’d rather see the world again and again, even in its darkest times, than die pathetically in his cage.

“Good choice, kid. I think you both know why you were brought here on earth in the first place.”

'Cause I walk through the valley of the shadow of death And I fear no evil because I'm blind Oh, and I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul But I know when I die my soul is damned

Jesse sang with shaky breath, fingers trembling against tattered wood, before his hands rested loosely against his guitar and sighed into the warm night air.

“We’ll be alright,” his lover said. Her calloused fingers gently grasped his metallic one and smiled sadly at him.

They both wore rings, a symbol of the love they’ve treasured and every trial they’ve come across along the way. The vows they’ve exchanged gave them a reason to stay, a reason to fight again. It was a bittersweet surrender, but it was worth it.

“Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #overwatch x reader #overwatch #mccree x reader #mccree

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mcbride · 3 years

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TWD S11 Predictions - Carol/Daryl focused

disclaimer: i don't know anything. i have no sources. just my predictions, thoughts and wishful thinking based on filming tracking, intuition, some theories, images from the teaser/promo trailers and more wishful thinking!

solely focused on Carol and Daryl's storylines, cause apparently that's all my heart cares about anymore! as a wise person once said (Espy, my positive fairy! if you're reading this, ilysm), our baes need to be dealing with their own issues and demons, separately, while getting some closure with other people, so they can finally move forward together.

so i don't expect many actual caryl scenes in part 1 of s11, but i fully expect them to keep each other in mind, and even make some decisions based on a future they wanna have together even before they resolve the awkward tension between them atm.

imo the perfect caryl arc in 11a would include a lot of emotional encounters, drama, disappearances, fake deaths, torture, tragedy, dog, closure and make up and make out... after the jump....

it appears that Carol and Daryl will be involved in different missions at the start of the season - he will head out with Maggie's group to search for food when they are caught up in a storm and have to hide out in the subway tunnels; while i presume she stays back to defend and help clean up ASZ or goes on her own mission with Kelly and Magna.

Carol, Kelly and Magna end up stumbling upon Connie's journal, a symbol of hope for all of them. they might even decide to search the area for any more signs of Connie. i really want Carol herself to find Connie and bring her back to Kelly. and not cause Carol is a hero who saved Connie, nooooooo cause Connie can save her own self. she is strong, not a damsel in distress. she went through hell but she made it back. i think we will see Connie and what she has been through, however, i don't believe she will reunite with anyone from team family before the MSF (11x08) or even MSP (11x09). no idea who she and Virgil are running from in the trailer - it could either be a whisperer, a stray reaper or just some crazy random motherf*cker they run into.

while Maggie's group are in the tunnels, dog runs off and Daryl goes to search for him, never making it back to the group for some reason. after the storm is over, Maggie and the group search for Daryl but not having been able to find him (?) they just assume he is gone, possibly dead? i don't know why Maggie would give up so easily searching for family, but it seems like her current MO to just leave people behind.

along the way, Carol and Magna will find common ground and actually become besties cause she desperately needs some female friends. please and thank you. they can bond over the hope to find Connie alive and well, or the fact, both of them are currently in a very awkward position with their boos while having no idea where the heck they are.

Daryl probably got separated from the group while escaping a small herd in the tunnels (cue to Daryl's face covered in blood in the woods) and when he finally finds dog, he comes face to face with a masked reaper formerly known to him as Leah. he is shocked to learn she's part of the group that targeted Maggie. Leah is probably bitter Daryl chose his family instead of her a few years ago cause she has no idea he came back for her... so she and her friends take (willingly or not!) Daryl prisoner... possibly torture him and play mind games to gather information on team family.

in the sdcc trailer, there are some very heartbreaking scenes with Carol (and Aaron?), i cannot wait for it. i know it's gonna make me cry so hard and i've been needing Carol/Aaron friendship for years. at the same time, i expect Carol to also have some badass fighting scenes with her daughter-in-law and new bestie, Lydia, and tia Rosita! YES girl power!! people need Carol and she's totally there for them.

Aaron seems to be in a bad place emotionally (possibly something happened to Gracie, or just the fact they lost a lot of people in the whisperers war!) and Carol will be there to urge him not to make the same mistakes she did. hopefully, these 2 can join forces and come up with a masterplan to defeat the reapers.

Daryl being Daryl who always wants to save people even from themselves, tries to convince Leah to change sides, join team family, or convince her own family to leave his family alone. he's unsuccessful and when Daryl tries to escape, setting the whole place on fire and killing a few men on his way out of the reapers compound, Leah threatens to harm dog. cause why not? she obvi loves nothing or no one! they take Daryl back to another cell, and dog manages to escape.

meanwhile, Maggie's group returns to ASZ, where they tell Carol they believe Daryl is lost or dead. please give me all the angst that comes with Carol thinking she may have lost Daryl forever! she has been pretty committed to the group and rebuilding their home, but i believe her first instinct will be to run, to leave... TO FIND DARYL!!! cause no way in hell would Carol just accept he's gone unless she sees it with her own eyes.

WELL in true 'if you can't beat them, then join them' fashion, after a few brainwashing sessions with Leah, Daryl tells her all about the note (FIND ME) he left for her at the cabin, how he knows he made the wrong decision then, declares his loyalty to her and joins the reapers...

dog arrives at ASZ just as Carol is about to leave to search for Daryl. good boy always comes back home to mama and together they will find and save dada. (bear with me! from now on i'll be totally running wild with my wishful thinking... it will pretty much read like some fanfic plot!)

Daryl keeps trying to fit in with the reapers group, but he's only taking a page from Carol's undercover book - fake it till you make it + destroy them from the inside. what he doesn't know is that Leah and her new/old bf (Pope!?) have been planning an attack on ASZ behind his back. they simply let him know, this is his chance to prove himself to the reapers. he has to go along with the plan (or DIE!), but he hopes to be Alexandrians' inside man, helping them protect their family at all costs (ironically, exactly what Negan did when he joined the whisperers and they attacked Hilltop... just not the same motivation! i guess Carol wasn't so wrong about Negan after all!)

at night, Daryl puts on his reaper costume and they head to ASZ. reapers learned the location of the place by tracking dog. the plan was much bigger and more explosive than Daryl expected, the reapers destroy a big part of ASZ brand new rebuilt wall and set fire to a bunch of houses and the mill before Daryl can even react.

Alexandrians and reapers fight as Daryl sneaks out to lead the kids to safety. he finds Maggie, asks for Carol, and is glad she is out there looking for him, relatively safe, rather than around to fight and watch ASZ fall.

while out looking for Daryl, Carol hears the explosions, sees the fire and she and dog return to ASZ as fast as they can. they are greeted by Leah at what used to be front gate...

i realize this is getting extremely long, so i'll just say that i absolutely don't want Carol to have anything to do with Leah's possible imminent death. i don't want that guilt on her conscience, and i don't want her to feel like Leah is just another person she took from Daryl (like Connie!). i don't even want Leah to die! unless she's trying to hurt or kill Daryl.

somehow i think it would be a good twist, if for a quick second Carol thought Daryl had betrayed them and joined the reapers for Leah. of course, Carol knows better. SHE KNOWS DARYL. he would never, but for a brief panicked moment, it would be good to see her react to that. i can only imagine the pain in her eyes. but she also trusts Daryl with her life.

we have no idea what Leah knows about Carol, but i'd like the pocketknife Daryl regifted to come back. how would Leah react? likely angry to see another woman with something that was hers. i want to believe Daryl would never tell Leah anything about Carol because she is just too important and too personal to share. but maybe Leah can tell there was someone else !? who knows.

i just want it to be completely clear Daryl is done with that part of his past. Daryl is not alone and lost in the woods anymore without his brother Rick and his bestie Carol. ever since Carol brought him back, Daryl has acted like he knows exactly what he wants and he's done playing games. and what he wants is not Leah or Connie. he wants for ALL his family to be safe and happy, and he wants to run away with Carol and see the world. AND i want both Carol and Daryl to feel free to be free and live freely.

as for the make up and make out part... (that's saved for 11b, hopefully!)

team family won, most of the reapers are dead, except for Leah. Daryl (with Carol's nod of approval!) decides to spare her, gives her some supplies and tells her to get lost. at the same time, Eugene arrives with the troopers from CommonWealth to help with the whisperer war. WHOOPS. 2 wars, 2 late, bruh! but the group leaves to join the good people at CW.

Carol and Daryl have a very long conversation about everything that happened and what they have been feeling. Daryl telling her exactly why he was so mad at her (she kept leaving, can't commit!), her actions (almost getting herself killed!) since Henry's death and how he needs her in his life. no matter how she sees herself or whether she thinks she's worthy or not, he just wants her to be there next to him for whatever is to come.

plus Carol realizing she needed to get closer and let people in without fear, not give up hope and actually fight for a better future for herself. and finally, admitting to Daryl that it was horrible to think he might've been gone forever, promising to never make him feel the way she felt. basically, a promise to never ever leave him again (cue to making out!)

#caryl #caryl rants #caryl predictions #carol peletier #daryl dixon #dog dixon #s11 spoilery #good lawd this is long af #did i go full td here?#or plausible possibility territory?#wishful thinking #speculation

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Not an End

A Mitsuhide Akechi story - this scene takes place at about the midpoint of Ch. 10. Approx. 1700 words.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Loyalty

The battle was brutal. In the uncertain light of flickering torches and flaming arrows, colors bled to grey. It was impossible to tell who struggled against whom. Men shouted, screamed, and died. Blood mixed with ash and others pushed forward to continue the struggle. Mitsuhide did his best to keep his little one from the thick of it, but there was no clear path.

He fought when they had to, his sword arm stronger than it had any right to be. His heart beat with ferocity. Not to win, but to protect. Mitsuhide did not note the faces of the men that fell to his blade, but part of him mourned the innocence his beloved lost with each death she witnessed.

Then out of the smoke, like a spirit, a shape took form. Beauty and grace out of place in the landscape of savage violence. Yoshimoto.

Mitsuhide knew the leader of the Imagawa was here and yet . . . he’d hoped to avoid him. Yoshimoto’s quest for an honorable end was not a part of his plan, nor any concern if his. He respected the man’s desire to end his struggle even if he didn’t understand the feelings that motivated the young warlord.

Yoshimoto didn’t even seem to notice Mitsuhide. His eyes found the chatelaine and fixed on her with an unexpected passion. “I was hoping I would meet you again in more pleasant circumstances.”

“Me too.” She stepped out from behind Mitsuhide, smiling.

He felt a surge of irrational anger. A desire to lash out. He contained it, left it simmering behind his own smile. “The tides of battle have turned against you. I suggest you and your vassals stand down, Imagawa.”

Yoshimoto’s lips turned up in a ghost of a grin as he finally focused on Mitsuhide. “I am truly impressed by this plan of yours, Silver Kitsunde. You have truly earned the sobriquet.” The flower of the Imagawa drew his sword anew, steel ringing clear of its sheath. “I thank you for the advice, but sadly . . . I cannot withdraw. That choice has never been mine.” His lips firmed into a thin line, his jaw hard. “Everything has led to this moment. The moment it all ends.”

Mitsuhide wan’t sure he could win against Yoshimoto. Not in his current state. And yet, fate had set his path here. Loss was not an option for him, any more than retreat for his opponent. He readied his blade.

Yoshimoto struck.

This was nothing like the fight with Masamune. The one-eyed tiger was ferocious, single-minded, and bloodthirsty. With Yoshimoto, the battle was art. Each move, choreographed. Perfect. This was the strength of the Imagawa. Deadly beauty.

It took all of Mitsuhide’s skill to keep up. Predicting his opponent by understanding the steps of this dance. The rapid strikes shook his bones and sent tremors through his tired muscles. Yet he could sense in Yoshimoto the beginnings of an end. His eyes begged Mitsuhide to finish this fight. To give him a good death.

Mitsuhide readied himself. There was no need to ask why. The Imagawa clan would never yield so long as Yoshimoto lived. The young warlord was a symbol. An excuse to fight on no matter the odds. If he fell . . . they would give up, finally. Mitsuhide knew Yoshimoto’s next move. It would be simple to change his defense to an offense. To slide his blade between Imagawa’s ribs. Straight through his heart.

“No! You can’t” The chatelaine threw herself between the combatants. “Yoshimoto! Run! Live!” She turned to face Yoshimoto. “Go and live for yourself. Think of your family!”

She didn’t understand. Mitsuhide felt a pang of sadness for his little one. She was so vulnerable. So naive. His blade stopped misdwin and he lowered it to his side.

“My . . . family?” Yoshimoto sounded as puzzled as Mitsuhide felt.

She held a hand out to him, as if to touch his cheek. “Sasuke and Yukimura are still looking for you. Everyone in Echigo is waiting for you to come home.”

Mitsuhide felt a surge of jealousy. His precious little one, speaking so passionately to another man - even if only to convince him to live - stirred a poison in the kitsune warlord’s veins.

“Yoshimoto . . . your life is precious. Too precious to throw away for bloodlines and clan responsibilities. It’s your one and only life.” The chatelaine put her hand atop Yoshimoto’s, her pale fingers brushing his ash and bloodstained grip.

“I -”

Mitsuhide grabbed his little mouse by the arm, pulling her back, out of harms’ way. And out of Yoshimoto’s reach. “Are you shielding an enemy, little one?”

“He’s not an enemy,” she protested.

Both a true and untrue statement, Mitsuhide thought. He wanted to explain to her why the Imagawa warlord must die. But the look in her eyes . . . full of belief in him. Trust that Mitsuhide would never harm someone she called a friend. Though he knew - absolutely knew - that killing Yoshimoto was the wisest path, he found that he could not do so.

Mitsuhide met Yoshimoto’s gaze over the top of the chatelaine’s head. An understanding passed between them. Neither wanted to be the man that made her cry. “You will go, Yoshimoto Imagawa. Take your vassals and leave.”

Yoshimoto nodded. “I will withdraw.” He gave an elegant bow which the chatelaine caught as she turned her head to face him.

As Yoshimoto sheathed his blade, the Imagawa vassals shouted in a mix of anger and disappointment. “If you will not fight,” they cried, “then we will die for the honor of the Imagawa tonight.”

It seemed, Mitsuhide thought, that his mercy was misplaced. Regardless of what he would prefer, he did not think he could avoid slaughtering the fractious warriors of the fallen Imagawa. There would be tears from his little one later, he thought. But he could live with that as long as she was alive to cry them.

But before anyone could begin to fight again, Yoshimoto’s voice rang out. It lacked his usual soft cadence. Now it cracked with fierce anger. A heat that Mitsuhide had not thought the Imagawa warlord possessed. “There is no honor in death! Choosing to die here is a betrayal of all the ideals you claim to stand for.” In a quieter voice he added. “As I have only just realized.”

He leaned forward, far too close for Mitsuhide’s comfort, and spoke to the chatelaine. “I want to thank you. And . . . I hope we get the chance to meet again.” Yoshimoto lifted a lock of the chatelaine’s hair and pressed it to his lips in farewell.

“And I do not.” Mitsuhide pulled his little one behind him, away from the passionate eyes of this Imagawa upstart. He was beginning to regret not killing Yoshimoto.

Yoshimoto smiled. “Be well.” Then he led his vassals out of the fight, rallying them around him with an aura of command that he had not shown before. They were soon lost in the chaos and darkness.

Mitsuhide scanned what he could of the battlefield. Most of the shogun’s forces were routed. Crushed between Masamune’s warriors and Hideyoshi’s defenses. He found a good position and waited for the fight to end.

It was Hideyoshi that came to them. His face was splattered with blood and filth. His eyes were bright with victory. “It’s over. We won.”

Masamune’s troops were tying up survivors and putting out fire. The monks of Honno-ji were attending to the wounded and gathering the dead. It was, Mitsuhide thought, a better win than most. Even if his quarry survived. That only meant the hunt was not done. He had yet more to do.

Mitsuhide took a step toward Hideyoshi, intent on wrapping up this goodbye before Hideyoshi turned his mother-hen instincts full on. But his legs didn’t seem willing to move forward and his arms felt heavy as lead. He stood there feeling dumb and slow as Masamune approached alongside Nobunaga.

“Mitsu . . .” His little mouse clung to his arm, almost as if she knew the thoughts that raced through his mind.

“You’ve done well. All of you.” Nobunaga smiled as he approached.

“Thank you my lord,” the three of them said in unison.

Mitsuhide watched Masamune warily. It was entirely possible the one-eyed tiger still meant to fight him. “You took longer than I expected to catch up to me.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Masamune rested a hand on his hilt. A threat, though not an immediate one. “Pfft. I was late because Ieyasu and Mitsunari couldn’t stop squabbling over who would accompany me. I told ‘em they could keep each other company in Azuchi.” His one eye narrowed with anger. “You’re lucky I didn’t hand your ass to my troops after our little . . . chat . . . in the rain.”

“I am grateful,” Mitsuhide began. He had a witty comment to make. He was sure of it. But whatever it had been was gone. “I - I am grateful to you. To Nobunaga. And, and to Hideyoshi.” He put an arm around his little one’s shoulders. “And to you.” He couldn’t help the way he leaned toward her, supporting himself.

Hideyoshi poked a finger in his chest. “You can keep your ‘thank you’ until you and I are done, Mitsuhide!”

There were words Mitsuhide wanted to say. They tumbled, disorganized through his tired mind. He tried to marshal them to order. He was the kitsune warlord - and this was not the time to fall. Not. Yet.

Hideyoshi took his silence as offense and grabbed the front of his clothes, jerking him violently forward.

Mitsuhide felt his beloved’s warmth retreat from him and heard her make a worried sound.

“I hope you’re ready. I’ve got hundreds of questions and you are going to answer ever single one!” Hideyoshi shook him.

“Can’t it wait . . . until . . . tomorrow?” Mitsuhide heard his voice as if it came from a long way off. He was in a tunnel. In a hole in the ground. Hideyoshi’s face floated in the light above him.

“What? And give you the chance to escape?” He shook Mitsuhide again. “You’re not getting out of this.”

Mtisuhide felt his lips turn up in a smile. “It’s not that. I - I’m just . . . rather . . . tired.” And then Hideyoshi’s face was gone. There was only the darkness, silent and heavy. He didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore.

Next: Peace

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen mitsuhide #ikesen yoshimoto #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic

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belit0 · 4 years

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@tinypaperwhispers

Heyy! I love your blog so much, can't believe you don't have more followers!:o I wanted to ask a request, I didn't even see it on tumblr anywhere ever so i hope you'll like it:)). Could you do Madasaku and Izusaku headcanons?👀 both sfw and n*-fw. (I saw you also write about Sakura besides the Uchiha - i love these pairings💟) Thankks!

Thank you, beautiful! My blog is relatively new, so I’m growing by baby steps :) thanks for your support!!🧙🏻‍♀️🖤✨

MadaSaku [SFW]

These two had trouble getting along at first, just like two thick skulls! We know Madara for his awful temper, but nobody talks about Sakura’s as much as they should.

Being such a strong and independent woman, this kunoichi could never comply with the stereotype that this Uchiha is used to frequent. Having such a dominant character, he enjoys subduing others.

But when his path impacts her, everything takes a turn. She is not someone who will easily carry out his orders like anyone else, and this presents a challenge, something that intrigues him.

How did they end up together? Let’s say that, after the war, Madara survived, but his chakra paths were destroyed with the rise of Kaguya, so it is decided that he is no longer a threat, that he can be valuable to the village. Thus begins his rehabilitation, which Sakura has to take care of.

Before they realize it, they are dancing before a fire that grows between them, and there is no way to avoid it.

The relationship is quite balanced. Sakura compensates for all the mental health that Madara does not have lmao. No, but seriously.

Before his intensity, she is calm. In the face of his anger, she is the peace. In front of his tyranny, she is patient. They say that the opposites attract each other, don’t they? The best example is this couple.

Madara is a broken man, but Sakura helps him to recompose his soul piece by piece, to learn to love again, to see life with hope one more time.

He doesn’t trust anyone but her, so it’s not uncommon that their activities as a couple are all indoors.

Reading together in front of the fireplace with some tea, team cooking, cleaning the house together, training in the garden.

Because he was always very cultured, it is not strange to see him write down his knowledge on scrolls, which she then reviews and expresses her opinion on the subject in a lively debate.

Very occasionally, Madara accompanies Sakura to her work. Feeling rejected by the eyes of others about his person, he locks himself in her office until she ends the day, like a frightened cat in the presence of humans.

IzuSaku [SFW]

I have a very crazy idea of how this couple could have been formed, pay attention. After the final fight with Madara, Hashirama is aware that he is alive. At the same time, Tobirama finishes creating Edo Tensei. Both brothers decide that the only one who can make Madara see reason is Izuna, therefore, they revive him, and without manipulating him, they allow him a complete resurrection (breaking the Jutsu, as well as Madara in the war). They ask him to bring his brother to his senses and Izuna seeks him out to show him that he has come back to life. When he finds him (let us suppose that Madara developed the Rinnegan ahead of time and not just before he died) he believes that he is being deceived, and without being able to handle his new power yet, he sends his younger brother into the future = IzuSaku.

The Uchiha is upset, really upset. The one who killed him has just brought him to life, his brother is suffering and now he is in who knows where. But his bad predisposition changes when a pink-haired young woman appears in his sight.

What a curious, adorable, beautiful, and well-intentioned person. Sakura, her name suits him. Such beautiful eyes.

She is frightened by the symbol on his back, and it helps him to determine his situation. Time travel, change of periods. What a lovely woman, definitely her clan did not exist in the original time of Izuna, otherwise, he would remember such gorgeous features.

She decides to help him, and hiding him in her house is when their bond becomes closer.

Sakura had only interacted with one Uchiha in her life, and suddenly she cannot believe how affective the one that is now with her is. Love 24/7, the intensity of this clan is real.

Surprise hugs from behind, tender kisses on the neck at any moment, caresses on the face, arms, thighs.

Something that Sakura enjoys a lot is to comb Izuna’s hair after he gets out of the shower, usually, he falls asleep lying on her after a long time.

After a difficult day, he welcomes her at home with a good massage session, having become an expert in reading her body expressions to detect her mood.

Izuna lends himself as a test subject in Sakura’s work, he finds it very amusing. He loves to receive as much of her attention as possible.

When the kunoichi is working on a new poison, the Uchiha loves to sit near her workplace and observe her movements, her concentration, the effectiveness of her creation.

If Sakura has a very tough time today, Izuna refrains to make some tea for her and to support her with his company.

She loves the face he makes when she brings him sweets, after leaving work. His appetite for sugar… he’s like a child.

MadaSaku [NS-FW]

Fire in the room.

The fact that Madara no longer has a chakra does not mean that he has lost his unequaled strength.

Oh, but wait… Sakura has hers too.

The constant struggle for who dominates who, which brings a very funny dynamic when it comes to intimacy.

Sakura enjoys deeply when Madara holds her strongly against any surface, demonstrating his desire and need to be the one who leads.

The situation eventually turns around when she is too hot to his touch, and subdues him to her strength, forcing him to stay under her control.

This arouses Madara even more, who appreciates having a woman by his side who knows what she wants and fights for it.

Their sexual dynamics are overwhelming and devastates everything. Several tables had to be replaced after Sakura’s back hit them.

Madara had to fix different holes that he made in various walls with his fists while he held Sakura’s hips on his shoulders and devoured her pussy without mercy. The tugs in his hair that she supplies him with on each occasion make him lose his mind, and holding her in the air at his mercy pushes him to the limit.

Purple and greenish bruises decorate his thighs when she pays special attention to his limb with her mouth. Every time the Uchiha rushes his hips towards her face trying to get deeper into her throat, the kunoichi squeezes his legs, making he slows down and groans in pain.

Of course her aftercare includes healing the rudeness imparted upon her lover.

IzuSaku [NS-FW]

Thanks to being the object of research for Sakura, she is highly aware of all the visual abilities that Izuna possesses. That Sasuke was her partner does not mean that she knew the true extent of the Sharingan, the same applying to Kakashi.

The room of both soon fills with highly exciting and kinky games, where she is subjected to numerous Genjutsus from him, destined to make her reach her maximum pleasure peak constantly.

Izuna loves to capture Sakura’s glance during different moments of the day, trapping her surprisingly in his world of passion, making her scream until her body trembles in an uncontrollable way.

When he brings her back to reality, he laughs maliciously at the exhausted expression of the kunoichi, and carries her to the bed in his arms, where they both rest.

If Sakura wants to take revenge, she avoids looking him in the eyes and takes advantage of any moment of distraction to use the clear benefit that her strength gives her.

Sitting on his lap on the sofa, getting into the shower with him and pinning him against a wall, straddling him when they are in bed.

Izuna cannot fight her Taijutsu, and because the kunoichi learned to avoid his glance, he has no way of escaping the torture.

All that remains is to submit to the fiery touches with which Sakura enjoys teasing him, feeling his cock squirm at every touch.

Anyway, both also love soft, delicate, and romantic sex. They alternate their encounters between uncontrolled, passionate situations, adding sweetness and delicacy.

Feeling Izuna’s light kisses travel all over her body is something that drives her crazy, and while he pays special attention to her nipples, leaving slight marks, she massages her clit at a slow pace.

Before the sassy image of Sakura touching herself under him, the Uchiha cannot avoid imitating her, and moves his hand slowly over his member while he continues paying special attention to his lover.

When their bodies finally unite, the heat is too much, and it does not take them long to finish both at the same time. Their nights are eternal when they take their time praising each other in this peaceful way.

#uchiha madara #uchiha izuna #haruno sakura #madasaku #izusaku #madara x sakura #izuna x sakura #madasaku headcanons #madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #sakura haruno #madara #izuna #sakura #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto x reader

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redantsunderneath · 4 years

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DC COMICS: Incoherence as Not-a-Bug-but-a-Feature (Spoilers for Batman 89-100)

Due to the emergence of the new Batman villain character Punchline, I wound up buying the last 12 issues of Batman and reading them in a single sitting. I’ve had trouble following DC comics for a while, constantly feeling that they were in trouble since back in the mid 2000s (with a glimmer of hope here and there). The act of reading DC comics has been a frustrating experience, where individual good stories and runs were laying around in the context of a lot of things that didn’t make sense while the company’s thrust felt chaotic and ideas not well blended. Every status quo change seemed hard to figure out the rules of enough to parse the context. We’ll get into the background of this, but my reading today of this extended stretch of comics that keeps losing the plot in favor of a fever dream of what’s happening at the moment with specific characters that refuse to cohere, it became obvious that what I had been looking at as subtext or critique was actually the text. I could see the messed up trees but was missing the the forest the universe was trying to describe.

What happens in these issues (Batman current series 89-100, I missed the beginning of the first of 2 arcs) is rolling war between the major Batman villains and the heroes (plus Harley Quinn and Catwoman), which shifts into a Joker and Joker adjacent vs. all as the Joker double crosses everyone then manages to steal Bruce Wayne’s fortune. We meet 3 new baddies – Underbroker, whose schtick is putting ill-gotten gains beyond the reach of the legal system (with an explicit line to rich globalists drawn), the Designer, who back in the day offered the four A list Batman villains plans to achieve what they most wanted, and Punchline, who is your toxic ex’s new millennial GF who really has it in for you (there is also a new good guy Clownhunter, which is a whole different thing, and a new costumed detective that predates Batman). This doesn’t convey the chaotic nature of what is happening issue to issue, but there’s more than one Batman hallucinogenic spirit quest, dead characters ostensibly walking around, a plan revolving around the Bat’s origin story that tells some version of it several times, and a no-nonsense declaration that the Joker, as the Devil of the Batman spiritual system, cannot die. The whole thing has the effect of convincing you there is no definitive sequence of events, only versions.

Alan Moore’s Killing Joke is not a favorite of mine, for a number of reasons. But the ending holds up. The Joker has done terrible things there is no antecedent for, and Batman wonders aloud if this never-ending dance they do ends in anything but both of their deaths; can they uncouple from the unhealthy duality the cycle of which simply repeats. The Joker responds, well, with a joke about two lunatics trying to escape an asylum. One jumps the roof to the next building, while the other is too scared to try. The escapee offers to hold a light while the other crosses on a beam but he says no, no you’ll just cut the light while I’m half way across. This not very funny joke nonetheless has a bunch of resonances – BM and Joker as conspiring co inmates, BM wanting to break out, a commentary about their natures (almost a reversal of the frog and scorpion story where the scorpion won’t go because he knows how this ends), but mostly it implicates BM as the one who is enabling the cycle, the reason why it won’t end. They both laugh uproariously, and the ambiguous final panels can be read as the fundamental realization of his complicity causing BM to kill J. A lethal joke indeed… except, next month, we see the both of them again. In broader context, the ceaseless cycle of the diad is reaffirmed. This has been hellaciously sticky as an idea in the Batmen universe.

My realization of what DC has been doing is pretty banal in its pieces. Marvel has “ground level” heroes while DC has a mythos, a pantheon. Their archetypal makeup is strong, the seven JLA members lining up with the pantheon of Greek gods and the Chakras weirdly closely. DC has big characters that are somewhat flat which they can use tell big bold individual stories that are cool the way legends and fables are cool. But these stories require bold strokes that a bit incompatible with each other. People get attached to these iterations. Meanwhile, Marvel trucks in soap operas where the characters give you an empathetic stand in and are narratively flexible. Marvel events are usually about the writer vs. the company, asking you to sympathize or deconstruct the creative impulse amid efforts to impose control or order. DC’s events are about editorial vs. the audience, the shapers vs. the forces of the world. It may seem obvious, given this description, that DC’s focus is on an archetypal tableau though it may be less obvious that this tableau is under extreme pressure from expectations when trying to tell ongoing tales month in, month out (or semi-monthly in some cases). The stories are constantly compared against the big stories that have gone before, and the audience’s ideas of the characters exert pressure to push them in directions that capture “the” version they believe in. This circle is not possible to square.

DC and Marvel both have a multiverse of sorts. DC used to tell “Elseworlds” stories which were later tucked into pocket universes. DC invented crossing over between “realities.” DC’s continuity is heavy baggage and they began to have “Crises” to resolve the narrative incompatibilities. These only made things worse as you can’t get rid of the past people have a relationship with – it will come back. Now you have to explain that away too. Marvel just lets it lay – forget about the iffy stories, they count, sure, just no one is ever going to talk about them unless they have an angle. Marvel continuity is all angles and amnesia. This is just easier to do with dating and rent and your ancient aunt’s medical bills than with Gods. Marvel’s multiverse is about sandboxes that you can always dump into the mainframe if they work (and never really mention the sandbox again).

There is a shift that occurred in the industry in the 2004 to 2005 era that is less remarked upon than many upheavals in comic’s history. Marvel had gone through a period of incredible new idea generation in the early 2000s after a late 90s creative cratering but had just fired the pro wrestling inflected soul of that moment (Bill Jemas). DC was coming off of a period of trying to do moderately updated versions of what they basically been doing all along. The attitude was “yeah we’re under stress from the combined history of these characters, but we got to keep telling the stories.” Geoff Johns was one voice of DC over the 99-04 period that showed potential - he seemed to get how to find the core of characters and push them into a new in sync directions if they over the years have lost a clear identity. But mostly he had internalized a basic schism between something mean that the audience wanted, and something good and wholesome about the characters themselves, and figured out how to mess around with this in a equilibrating fashion.

Interestingly, the ignition point of the main forces that were going to blow DC over the next decade and a half was a comic that had virtually nothing to do with any of those main forces. Brad Meltzer, a novelist, was hired to do a comic called Infinity Crisis, which sold extremely well and was, justifiably or not, recognized as an event. At the same time, everyone also kind of hated it because the dark desires of some DC fans were pushed forward just a bit too much for comfort and for a comic with Crisis in the name it didn’t do a whole lot other than “darken” things. Nonetheless, this lit an “event” fire at both companies. Marvel chose a shake up the status quo for a year, then do it again, pattern and was off to the races (I have written about this, and more, here) while continuing its Randian framing of beleaguered do-gooders opposed by rule making freedom haters.

As this was playing out, Dan Didio quietly took power in DC Editorial. His outlook was more Bloomian – he seemed to spark off of writers who exhibited anxiety of influence. He recognized Johns was the one person they had could be promoted into something of a universe architect, starting work on two key projects from which the rest would evolve. The first, was bringing back Hal Jordan as Green Lantern and diffracting the GL universe into its own symbolic system, with parts frisson-ing other parts, and almost a Magic the Gathering color scheme of ideas. The other was to build up to Infinite Crisis, which would become the model for most of their universe changing events until the present day.

The basic frame is this: DC heroes want to be good (in a sense of their inherent nature) but forces outside form a context that makes them fall. It’s a very gnostic universe, DC. They examine reflections of the concepts, invent scapegoats for certain tendencies (see Superboy Prime as entitled fanboy, Dr. Manhattan as editors that try and fail to mend things, etc), make characters violate principles, rehabilitate them, then show that the world if anything is more broken than before. This is kind of Johns’ thing and it fits Didio’s narrative as historicval tension fetish. But then came Scott Snyder (not to be confused with Zack) who began to work on Batman in 2011. Since then, as much as Justice League is pushed as the central title and Lex Luthor has been pimped, Batman has been the core of the universe and the Joker the core villain.

Snyder had the same continuity conflict wavelength but was significantly more meta and able to contain multitudes than Johns. He was the first to make an explicit mystery of how there could be several Jokers around at one time (who are the same but not, he posited 3 – man, Christians!) that seems prescient given the near future coexistence of filmic Jokers that are not able to be resolved. I believe he was the first to begin to tease out an idea – that different versions of things in comics are not a diffraction or filter effect, a using the set of things that work best for that story and leaving the rest, but are a matter of the archetypal system of the audience coming apart. From an in story perspective what appears to happen is that multiple versions of incompatible things exist in the collective unconscious of the continuing narrative, and this is something that the characters may become conscious of.

The run I just read is written by James Tynion IV building on the above trends. The trick seems to be going all in on the Jungian aspect (at Jung’s most religiously epiphanic). The Designer was a progenitor and adversary to Batman’s predecessor and his intellectual approach eventually defeated the detective… broke him. At some point in early Batman history, the Designer brought the top four Bat-baddies together and offered each, in turn, a plan to achieve what they most desired: the Riddler, a way to achieve an empire of the mind; the Penguin, power; and Catwoman, money. They are all elated as they await the Joker to come out. The Joker emerges with a furious Designer on his heals and promptly shoots him dead. He explains that he didn’t like his joke in the form of a fable – the devil offered four people the path to their greatest desire: the three chose earthly things, but the Joker’s wish was to be him, to become the devil. The story proceeds to suggest that the Joker just exists, he is present as a necessary component in the system. You can kill him, yet he is alive.

DC has been using physics metaphors for the nature of their reality since Flash of Two Worlds in 1963. The multiverse as a continuity concept was their idea and the holographic universe of the hypertime was a thing. It seems like since Dan Didio took over, they’ve been heading towards a concept of broad superimposition, of measurement effect being weak, of the universe being like a quantum computer with all possibilities coexisting and the story instantiating not one reality but a path through all the possible ones. By making Batman trip balls through quite a few issues and relive his origin from different angles, the story is one of its own instability and the heroic task that confronts our hero is attempting to actualize the world. The Joker is the Devil in the sense of lack of fixed meaning, of relativistic chaos, of the world not making sense because it’s unmoored nature with ultimately no knowability. Batman, in this story, functions as a postmodern knight crusading against the impossibility of epistemological grounding.

There’s more going on, sure. One plot is, literally, defund Batman. There is rioting, people brainwashed by being exposed to toxic ether, people paid to go to theaters even though they will die as a result, and questions about neoliberalism similar to that one Joker movie. Punchline has no personality yet (Tynion’s not the best at that) but she serves well as a generational foil for Harley – a rudderless ideological vacuum susceptible to Joker-as-idea-virus rather than an unfulfilled MD who felt alienated due to the structures of her life and was seeking escape into structureless possibility. The Designer stuff is both continuity play (See why they changed from goofy villains to more “realistic” ones! Look how pulp heroes informed superheroes!), a comment on the nature of a longstanding narrative (strong intentions die out as Brownian motion overwhelms momentum), and a lawful evil/chaotic evil setup of the dualism of apocalypses (overdetermined authoritarian vs. center does not hold barbarism). But the thing that ties this to the past decade and a half of DC is the sense that the reality is fluid and susceptible to change or outright s’cool incompatibility.

This is different than other flavors of meta in superhero comics. Grant Morrison believes the archetypes are stronger than the forces that seek to bend them. Alan Moore wants you to deconstruct your sacred cows and probably hates you personally. Marvel might play with self-awareness, but effortlessly resolves inconsistencies after it’s finished playing. DC, at this point, allows you to watch the waves solidfy into symbols and dissolve, and the constant confusion and lack of grounding is more of a choice then I thought this time yesterday. The conflict theory of DC reality has been in full swing but this looks to be turning towards a kind of Zen historicism, holding contradictory things in your mind at once. Warren Ellis’ JLA/Authority book is the nearest comparable text I can think of. I need to call this, but I didn’t even talk about Death Metal, DC character multiplicity as meta-psychosis event extraordinaire. Comics just keep getting weirder.

#DC comics #batman #joker #punchline

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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years

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Notes on Gaston Leroux’s “The Phantom of the Opera” - Chapter 14: “A Masterstroke by the Lover of Trapdoors”

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Raoul and Christine are still running away from the shadow on the rooftop when they encounter the Persian, who tells them to run in the opposite direction. Raoul makes another try at getting Christine to run away with him on the spot, but once again, she refuses and repeats that Raoul will probably need to make her go against her will if he wants to elope with her (what is he supposed to do though? Drag a screaming and kicking Christine through the opera house? Drug her or knock her unconscious and roll her up in a carpet?).

She tries to convince him that Erik has not overheard their conversation on the rooftop because he is working on „Don Juan Triumphant“, but doesn’t seem to quite believe it herself. When Raoul bitterly says how brave she was to play his fiancée, Christine reveals that she had actually told Erik all about the engagement game she was playing with Raoul, and that he was willing to tolerate it under the assumption that Raoul would be leaving for the North Pole soon.

It is also obvious that despite the kiss Christine has given him in the preceding chapter, Raoul is still unsure of her feelings, which might also be due to her speaking of it like a one-time thing:

“Are people unhappy when they’re in love?” “Yes, when they’re in love and aren’t sure of being loved.” “Are you saying that for Erik?” ��For Erik and for myself”, answered Raoul, shaking his head with a thoughtful, forlorn expression.”

To a certain degree, Christine might be asking that first question for herself, too, since she is obviously unhappy and has shown signs of crying before. Keep in mind that this is the last interaction we see between Raoul and Christine before her abduction. Raoul is still uncertain at this point if Christine actually loves him, which means that he is soon going to risk his life for a girl whose feelings remain a mystery to him. We’ve got to give him some credit for that…

In her conversation with Raoul, Christine calls Erik a “man of heaven and earth” - not a ghost, monster or demon. She has seen his face, and even though she feels horror, she apparently also sees him as a man here. Raoul is once again taken aback by how Christine talks about Erik, making him question her determination to leave. She also tells him that no matter where she calls, Erik will always hear her. This is certainly due to the acoustics of the building and its secret passageways, since Erik apparently used similar techniques in the palace he built in Persia. On a deeper level, this is a symbol of how strongly they are still bound together, and seems to extend into the supernatural.

We also learn that Erik has promised Christine to stay away from her dressing room and her bedroom in his house, and that she trusts what he says. It is quite poignant to see how far Erik and Christine apparently trust each other, and how each of them is not fully deserving of the trust put into them even if they seem to be trying. In „Apollo‘s Lyre“, Christine also mentions how she instinctively trusted Erik.

Erik has given Christine a key to his house, which must be a pretty big thing for him as he puts his own safety into her hands with this. Christine shows Raoul the key but refuses to give it to him when he demands it because it “would be a betrayal” (apparently, she doesn‘t consider what happened on the rooftop a „betrayal“ and is also unwilling to betray Erik). But then she realises that she has lost Erik’s gold ring, probably while she gave Raoul the kiss on the rooftop - which is symbolic, of course. When Erik gave her the ring, he told her that she would be safe as long as she wore it - but if she parted with it, he would take revenge. She is greatly distressed, fearing what Erik might do to both of them - but even that is not enough to get her to run away. As she seems to have lost the ring on the rooftop, and Erik has it back in his possession two days later, saying that he had found it, it is likely that he directly picked it up after Christine and Raoul left the rooftop.

Raoul then goes home, cursing Erik and resolving to save Christine while he goes to bed. In the darkness, he thinks he sees Erik’s glowing eyes watching him from the balcony, and turns on the light to see if the eyes disappear. He takes his pistol and fires a shot at Erik’s eyes, which wakes the entire household including Philippe. Philippe thinks Raoul, who is rambling incoherently, has gone completely mad and asks him who this „Erik“ is that Raoul seems to be so obsessed with. Raoul states:

“He’s my rival!”

That statement is significant because it shows that Raoul views Erik primarily as a romantic threat to himself - not just as a threat to Christine’s safety or a general nuisance that he needs to get rid of, but as a serious contender for Christine’s hand. Raoul considering him his rival also puts them on more or less equal footing. Raoul also starts to worry that he should not have been so rash because if it really was Erik, Christine might not forgive Raoul for hurting him after all.

From Raoul’s description of his glowing eyes and the fact that there really is blood on the balcony and the drainpipe, we can conclude that it was indeed Erik standing there, and that he has been wounded by Raoul’s shot to a significant degree, considering there was enough blood to have seeped through his clothing and dripped onto the balcony in a very short time. The explanation of Raoul having shot at a cat doesn’t sound very likely, given that cats wouldn’t usually slide down drainpipes to get off a balcony.

Raoul and Philippe go on to quarrel over Raoul’s plan to elope with Christine. Philippe will not tolerate Raoul marrying a girl from the opera, but Raoul seems to be determined to go through with his plan anyway and defy Philippe’s wishes.

The next morning, there is an article in the newspaper “L’Époque” revealing that Raoul and Christine are engaged and about to marry. It is somewhat strange though because we never see Raoul and Christine actually getting engaged in a serious fashion. There’s the “engagement game” of course, but it cannot be considered the same as a serious marriage proposal. In addition to that, the last time we saw Raoul and Christine discussing their elopement, there were distinctly no plans of marriage included, as Raoul promised to take Christine away and then leave her to herself, as she has decided *not* to marry. It is not clear when that plan changed, or if Christine is even aware that his plans have changed. Philippe is very much embarrassed by Raoul’s behaviour, and swears that he will stop Raoul if he still plans to go through with his plans of elopement with Christine. Raoul leaves without saying anything more to Philippe, and spends the day making preparations for the elopement until 9 pm.

There is a curious detail that Leroux draws attention to, but I’m unsure about why he mentions it at all: Raoul’s carriage is driven by a coachman “whose face was largely hidden by the long scarf he wore” (They might have picked up on this in the 2004 movie). It cannot be Erik here though, as he now appears on scene to observe the carriage while the coachman is still sitting on it. In this scene, Erik is wearing the attire we have come to associate with him because of the musical mostly - the black cloak and felt hat.

During that night’s performance of Faust, Christine appears in the role of Marguerite again, but this time, the rumours about her engagement from the morning paper cause the audience to react with hostility to her since they see her as a social climber. This gives her (and us) an idea of how Parisian society would have reacted to her if she had ever become the Viscountess (or Countess, if Philippe is dead) de Chagny (and it would most likely have been far worse if she had married the man suspected of having killed his brother over her in public). Christine is quickly losing confidence when she suddenly sees Carlotta appear in one of the boxes, and her defiant nature is awakened. Not wishing to appear weak and succumb before her enemy, she regains her confidence and sings with all her soul again.

In the final scene of „Faust“, Faust and Mephisto come to rescue an insane Marguerite from her prison cell, but even though she and Faust confess their love for each other, she refuses to escape and asks the angels to take her soul to heaven instead (you can watch it here, for example: https://youtu.be/i2C4ezHUF1I).

Final scene from „Faust“ performance at the Metropolitan Opera (image from bruzanemediabase.com)

When Christine pleads with the angels in the final prison scene, Leroux makes use of the ambiguity of the „angel“. Raoul stands up from where he has been sitting in the amphitheater (not the de Chagny box where Philippe is sitting), but the Angel of Music is quicker: the entire stage is plunged into darkness, and when the lights return, Christine is gone. A great commotion ensues, with everybody trying to explain where Christine could be, but her co-star Carolus Fonta then announces publicly that she has disappeared, and that no one knows what has really happened.

Erik’s action here is both daring and desperate. From his perspective, he needs to act now before Christine will be out of his reach forever. He has overheard the escape plan, and I guess he also saw the newspaper speculating about her impending marriage, and now sees his hand forced before it’s too late for him. The chapter‘s title calling it a „masterstroke“ („coup de maître“) highlights the extraordinary skill and boldness that were necessary to stage his abduction of Christine in the fashion that he chose. The „lover of trapdoors“ is a nickname that was given to him in Persia, as we will later learn from the Persian.

Image from wikipedia

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#phantom of the opera #leroux phantom #lerouxreadingguide #the phantom of the opera #poto #erik the phantom #erik x christine #christine daae #raoul de chagny #raoul shoots erik #gaston leroux #classic literature

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deans-haunted-baby · 3 years

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Curious. What do you mean by Dust till Dawn going against it's Characters? I know I have my own feelings, or confusion, with how they left Kate's story.

From Dusk Till Dawn effectively character assassinated every single character in the very last episode including Kate Fuller. No one is acting like themselves in that series finale it's like some deranged fanfic writer came aboard and hijacked the show while no one was looking. If you thought 15x18 & 15x19 of Supernatural were bad and believe me they really are; those episodes are minorly salvageable against the slaughterhouse that Dusk 3x10 was. It utterly contradicts and ignores everything the show put forward in all 3 seasons. I will never watch that episode again.

I'll first explain what that piece of shit did to the show's lead protagonists, the Gecko brothers. Regardless of how you or anyone else feels about Supernatural's series finale; that show was a saint to Sam and Dean's storyline beginning to end compared to how From Dusk Till Dawn definitively butchered Richie and Seth. I'm sad saying this because Zane Holtz and DJ Controna are outstanding as these characters. I freaking love their chemistry man, it's a great rival to J2! They're the badass dark clones of the Winchesters. Their arc starts out fascinatingly complex because they went from cold-blooded criminals/bad guys and meanwhile during their escape over the Mexican border with this hostage family the audience is told pretty quick by Professor Aiden Tanner that the Geckos are destined to become these foresworn warriors The Mayan Hero Twins in an ancient prophecy (based on real Mesoamerican lore) who battle the Underworld. So right away the show is telling us ahead where Seth and Richie are suppose to end up in their journey and when you introduce a storyline this big I expect a satisfying payoff.

At the end of season 1, Richie Gecko is *SPOILER ALERT* transformed into a culebra (snake-vampire) while Seth Gecko remains human symbolizing their night and day Hero Twin counterparts from the legend. And they're separated in the first half of season 2 where both try to navigate this new supernatural world they've stumbled on individually. What they find, no different than the Winchesters, is that neither can function properly without the other making their destiny all the more valid. That season is practically constructed like their swan song to the criminal lifestyle since the brothers are meant to become more than crooks; and since Richie's a vampire they can't ever go back to basics. Their adopted father aka uncle Eddie actually says the line "this is my swan song" in 2x07 to Seth and Richie in reference to their final heist together which is not a coincidence. That's the writers telling us that the Gecko Brothers' role in the show is going to shift from anti-heroes to heroes very soon. Eddie and Kate Fuller's fates in S2 act as the primary catalysts for this transition taking shape in the finale.

Going into season 3 it's business as usual for the boys until the prophecy of the twins officially rips a hole in the damn universe via demon queen Amaru. Who's now possessing Kate. Throughout that season Seth and Richie embark on a journey of heroism; find themselves battling monsters, actually saving civilians and dealing with their own personal demons (guilt and remorse over past sins). That year is presented as their redemption arc and final phase into their new role. No one ever tells them about their destiny (despite most of the other characters knowing) but we as the audience are already aware as we watch the brothers in action. The best episode is without a doubt 3x06 the crown jewel of From Dusk Till Dawn because it's about overcoming the darkness inside. And who best represents that than Richie; the show's most important central character whom began the series as a deadly clairvoyant criminal into the tortured vampire hero struggling with his own humanity. Now I won't spoil the whole episode for anyone who hasn't seen it or the show in general but it's an incredible moment of character development for both the Gecko brothers. Not only does it cement their powerful bond it's the episode that defines who these two are once and for all. The ones who lead the battle between good and evil; keep the balance of light and darkness. One day I plan to do an entire analysis of that episode because it's so fucking brilliant and shot so incredibly eerie at the same time 😁

You want to know what 3x10 does to these characters? It shits all over their entire storyline and pisses away THREE FUCKING SEASONS of character development. Just flushes it all down the toilet rendering everything they've ever done up to that point completely pointless! Their destiny which is the WHOLE POINT OF THE SHOW is suddenly dropped last minute and the Geckos hit reset on their former criminal escapades; dragging Kate along with them. I hate that finale with the fire of a thousand suns for what it does to Richie and Seth 😡

Moving on to Carlos Madrigal. He is the best villain character in the history of show villains hands down. I can actually say that without blinking. Wilmer Valderama is phenomenal, he steals the show as Carlos. He's is so freaking awesome, evil and badass! I just want to keep seeing this man tear things apart while being the sexy asshole he is 😈For all intents and purposes I don't want to spoil his whole storyline on the show for those following me in case they're interested. But what I will say is 3x10 destroys this character; so don't watch it if you want to keep the memory of who he was alive. I'm actually depressed over what was done to him as much as I feel sorry for Wilmer having to perform that shitty script. It's laughable in a very bad way. Gotta hand it to the writers and showrunners of FDTD they certainly knew how to humiliate their best characters in this series. Carlos basically goes from charismatic yet lethal Hannibal Lecter to a very captain obvious Gandolf caricature. Yah you heard that right, it's really fucking sad.

Next we have Freddie Gonzalez; the audience's avatar into the series. This character is connected to everyone on the show for a reason because of the crucial part he plays in this universe. The "Peacekeeper" destined to police the line between the supernatural world from the human world. In the beginning he's a Texas deputy on a quest to avenge the murder of his father figure/partner Earl McGraw via the Gecko Brothers. But once he steps in that territory of monsters there's no going back. And FDTD repeatedly tells him and the audience this in the first 2 seasons. But then 3x10 pulls the ultimate fuckery by giving him the most cliched, nonsensical hallmark ending effectively cancelling out his entire purpose in the series. He instantly forgets that he ever cared about Kate, watching her bleed out on the ground, then leaves the Geckos high and dry rushing his family (who isn't injured) to the hospital. And he stays there while the battle continues 😣

Kate and Scott Fuller OMG words cannot describe my anger over what was done to them so I'll make it fast. I'll begin with Kate the bright light and heart of the series. Her arc in the first two seasons is excellent. It's emotionally driven because she begins as an ordinary girl in broken yet seemingly-happy family to a young woman finding her way around the supernatural world maintaining her faith and moral compos while trying to help her brother after he's *SPOILER ALERT* been turned into a vampire; paralleling the Geckos's situation. Scott being only a 16 year old kid, like Richie, struggles immensely after his transformation; searching for meaning as a cursed individual and coping with his duality. He was already different to begin with so being a vampire adds some interesting layers to his character.

Btw Kate plays a vital role in Richie and Seth's lives, though in my opinion is more strongly connected to Richie. The show even goes as far as developing the early glimpses of a romantic arc between Kate and Richie (seeing as they kiss twice) with angst at the end of season 2 that is never resolved. You want to know why it wasn't? Not only does season 3 mute Kate's voice and agency but 3x10 ruins her character and demolishes her whole arc with Richie (who spent all of season 3 trying to save her) at the last second due to fan pressure of those who shipped her with Seth. They don't exchange one word nor barely look at one another it's like seasons 1&2 never happened. This is the biggest fuck you to fans of these characters I've ever witnessed in a series and they did my boys Adam and Michael so dirty in Supernatural. Poor Scott whom the show enjoyed kicking around all season barely gets a thing to do in that series finale either than listening to his sister and Seth gab about prom lol. Yah you heard me I'm not making this shit up I swear. Then he gets abandoned by Kate while she goes off to be a bank robber with the character assassinated versions of Seth and Richie. How extraordinary 😖

Santanico Pandemonium is really the only character in the series who manages to get out unscathed. HOWEVER her arc is handled very poorly beginning to end. They set up an arc between her and Seth that also goes absolutely nowhere. Give her zero closure with Richie whom she sired, dated and used in S2. And randomly throw her in a scene with Kate that makes no fucking sense after these two had nothing to do with one another all series. On top of that Santanico is barely in season 3 so by the time the show wraps her arc feels incomplete.

Other characters go missing that no one notices, the new bad guy whom they've set up at the end is just left hanging. And Richie Gecko, you know the show’s other lead, is horribly sidelined after 3x06 to make way for the Seth Gecko solo show. When I say FDTD series finale is bad I mean it's really fucking terrible and blasphemous.

#from dusk till dawn: the series #from dusk till dawn #richie gecko #seth gecko #kate fuller #carlos madrigal #fdtd #scott fuller #kichie #richiekate #seth x richie #freddie gonzalez #Santanico Pandemonium #anti fdtd 3x10 #the Gecko brothers

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spookyspaghettisundae · 3 years

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What Would Follow the Healing

The warrior's axe trailed behind him in the dirt, dragged by a weary hand too weak to lift it any longer. He lurched and stumbled, weary not from the sun's relentless rays beating down upon his bare bronzed torso, but from the numbness that gripped his body.

A shambling gait to keep moving forward, ever forward, was the most strength he could summon. Gravel crunched underneath his sandals, and he kicked up dust whenever he tripped, oblivious to the pain throbbing from the snakebite in his calf—to the venom that had long spread throughout every limb.

At this crawling, miserable pace, he had wandered the desert for long enough to have lost all sense of time and expected death to greet him any moment now. Yet he wanted to live. To fight another day. To not perish to the bite of some lowly creature after having braved so many battles for his god against able-bodied men.

His pride—his determination—allowed him to hold on. He wiped the sweat from his brow and paused to catch his ragged breath. He coughed through chapped lips, hacking, wheezing, reeling, and almost keeling over.

The world blurred until he squinted hard enough to spot his destination. He blinked and struggled to see past the distortion of unbridled heat rising from the scorched tawny rocks and sands. To see where he had lumbered off towards to seek his only hope at salvation.

Where the grounds sloped down, a beautifully shimmering stream emerged from jagged stone and mounted into a rippling pond, around which a small oasis of palm trees had arisen. A thin plume of smoke trailed into the skies from the chimney of a quaint sandstone hovel, squat on the edge of the oasis.

The Witch Crossing.

He picked up his pace, driven by hope again.

Loose rocks tumbled down and he caught himself upon some dried exposed roots as he descended the final slope to the tiny dwelling. The stones cracked and clattered and rolled down alongside him and one of the rocks bounced off the trunk of a palm tree. His axe lazily clanged against a rock as he marched on, finding new vigor and energy even if he could not shrug off his awful condition, no matter how much he tried to will it away.

Only as he neared the dingy little shelter did his impaired vision afford him glimpses of more unsettling details: stacks of bleached human skulls bunched together upon piles of stones, animal skeletons crudely roped together with coarse twine to form strange magick fetishes, and eerie arcane symbols etched into boulders with the sharp edges of simple stone tools.

Halfway across the oasis, she suddenly appeared.

The witch.

He had blinked, certainly; fighting with all his might to stay awake and alert, no doubt; but in one moment, the cloth curtain covering the entrance to the witch's hovel had stood closed, and in the next, she stood in front of it, staring at him through wide eyes.

Amber, piercing, unblinking, more unsettling than the strange decor that surrounded her eerie abode. Her olive skin was covered in dirt and black hand-painting that matched the glyphs upon the stones, contrasting those bright and cruel eyes.

Her attire took him aback, for she wore nothing but a skirt of hide and vulture bones, breasts bare for him to lose focus on.

"What is it you seek here, pilgrim?" she asked. Raspy was her voice, authoritative her speech, hungry in a way—reminiscent of smoke and the crackle of embers exploding from a fire. "Are you so daft to not heed any warnings?"

He coughed and his knees wobbled, and he did his best to remain standing.

He knew that she knew. Her piercing gaze said it all, wandering up and down his figure and studying him.

She knew what condition he was in.

He looked like death.

"A snake bit me," he said.

She scoffed. "Yes. I see that."

Between more ragged breathing and the ensuing silence growing longer and longer, a twinge of anger welled up in his gut, making his heart beat even faster yet, and leaving his vision clearer than from before the venom starting to dull his senses.

"Then help me, witch! I have treasure! I have gold. You can have anything you want from me," he said, wheezing in between the last words.

"Anything?" she said with a smug smirk.

"Anything!"

He pawed at the tiny pouch hanging from his belt. Fingers fumbled with the knotted cord that kept it by his side, then gave up. He furiously ripped at it and the string snapped. He tore the little leather satchel open and emptied its clinking contents onto the ground. Coins of different color and bearing many different crests, and a small emerald and a beautiful ruby, they all glittered and sparkled in the sun as they plummeted down, landing softly in the sand.

The smug smirk vanished from her visage.

"Fool. Am I to scoop that up from the dirt like a dog?" she said, glaring at him.

Her face never flinched. The dried black paint upon her face lent her statuesque features a fierce and fearsome air.

With a groan, he dropped to his knees and hastily started gathering the coins and gems again.

"I don't want your riches," said the witch. "What would I spend them on, fool? Those who share your creed are the ones that drove me out here. I do not trade with the people you call 'civilized'. Your coin is worthless to me."

He groaned again. Slammed a fistful of coins into the dirt. Then he met her cruel stare with an angry glare of his own.

"Then name your damned price. Is this not Witch Crossing?"

She arched a brow and asked, "Which crossing?"

"Witch Crossing. Witch doctor, are you not?"

"Which doctor?"

Though her play on words was lost on him, he knew she was mocking him.

Though the jumble of emotions and the torrent of pain afforded him no space to let go and relax, lest he lose his consciousness and die miserably without her aid, he knew better than to offend her. Likely, she reveled in the power she currently held over his life, like a sword hanging from a thread that dangled above his head.

Right now, she was the only thing standing between him and the jaws of death. The hollow eye sockets of skulls piled up nearby stared back at him, empty and uncaring and foreboding of the grim fate that awaited him.

He shouted at her, "Enough, woman! Do not mock me! I have slain capable warriors!"

"And you threaten to kill me before I can heal you? You are truly a foolish fool, pilgrim."

"I am no pilgrim," he said, sighing with resignation. Breaking eye contact, for she truly held all the power. He was at her mercy. "I am of the warriors who hunt down the savage cult of serpent-worshippers out here."

"Yes, I recognize the bronze symbol you wear around your neck, you fool. Martyr. Martyr and fool. You martyrs are all fools."

"Watch your tongue," he hissed at her.

His vision immediately blurred. Did she grin again in response to his threats? Or did his words simply not reach her, unable to penetrate a black heart devoid of all mercy?

"A cult hunting a cult, nothing of which I should concern myself with. Do you reckon I should draw their ire by aiding you?"

"Please," he begged.

He clasped his hands together, almost as whenever he did in prayer before the imposing statues of his god. Just as empty then, his gesture was empty now—all self-serving. Only a hoarse rasp escaped his throat, and words failed him.

She, however, continued to chide him, "Or must I expect your fellow faithful to march upon my home to harass me if I leave you out here to waste away from your own stupidity?"

"Please. Heal me," he croaked.

She suddenly stood closer. Had he even blinked? Having disappeared from her doorstep to standing suddenly in front of him, ten paces closer, eliciting a surprised gasp from him. He fell back, too much weight coming to rest upon his swollen leg—it had doubled in size since suffering the bite—and he emitted a piercing shout of pain before crumpling onto his side in response.

She crouched down beside him and grabbed him by his cheeks, squeezing and scrunching his face uncomfortably in between the fingers of one hand and her thumb as she wrenched his face around to stare into his eyes, up close.

He dared not resist. The sharp reminder, the throbbing agony flaring up from his snake-bitten calf, it pressed him to be wiser about crossing the savage witch of Witch Crossing.

In this unforgiving desert, where the snake worshippers reigned supreme and he had lost all his companions in battle against the heathens, this lonesome witch now posed his only hope.

After piercing his soul with her baleful gaze, she sneered at him and released him from her grip.

"Savage is what you call me."

"I have never," he protested. But not too loudly.

It was true that he had never named her thus—out loud. In his thoughts, however, that was exactly what she was to him.

Hex-bearer. Poison-maker. Child-slayer. Beast-lover. Man-eater.

"But your kin have, and you would ape their words in a heartbeat, just like you all ape your prayers to a god that never answers."

He bit his tongue.

She said, "Answer me honestly, for your life depends on it. Were the tables turned, would you aid me if I beseeched you?"

He swallowed, and it felt like swallowing a handful of gravel and grit. Her stare drilled deeper into his soul, and he knew better than to lie.

"No," he finally breathed.

Said the witch, "Truth. You would laugh in my face and leave me to rot among the sands and the beasts."

"And you would have me die like this? To right a wrong before it is even committed?"

He pleaded with her. With every fiber of his pain-wracked being, he pleaded. Not even by words, but by appealing to whatever shred of goodness might be left over in the darkest reaches of her being. He pleaded with his eyes, with his continued kneeling before this unbeliever.

"You are useless to me. I cannot even eat you, as envenomed as you are," she said.

She grinned at him. Toothy, bright white teeth, flawless. Too perfect for one who was said to taste human flesh. A grin that did not reach her eyes, all wicked and marveling at the pain that had brought him this low before her.

These were no idle words, he sensed. She truly ate people.

This was why they called her savage. Witch.

Monster.

The grin faded from her lips, hiding her teeth again. Could she read his thoughts?

"Perhaps you can be useful after all," she said. "If you do one thing for me, I shall do one thing for you. Your coin is of no use to me, but the arm that wields your axe may serve another purpose. It still holds strength and can carry your sorry hide on one more quest."

He gasped. Neither in confusion nor in pain, but in surprise.

"Name it," he breathed. Swallowing another lump in his throat.

The chance of living dangled in front of him while he spotted a mirage on the horizon. A gleaming light, a vision of his god, beckoning him to march on as bravely as he ever had. All in his mind, he understood, but it was his hope manifesting.

"Please, tell me what to do," he begged, focusing on meeting her unsettling gaze once more.

She pointed down the stream that crossed her oasis.

"There is a cave downstream. Follow the flow of water and you cannot miss it. In that cave dwells a beast, as strong as three men and all tooth and fang. Bring me its head. And I will heal you."

The shining light of his god on the horizon faded, making way to the shadow of death, creeping closer towards him once more.

"Y-you—you are out of your mind. As strong as three men? I am but one, and not even at full strength with this snakebite," he said, shaking his head. Breaking eye contact.

So close to salvation, yet so far. The silence she left to drape over them was deafening.

Motes of sand carried by the breeze lazily swept over them. Wind howled through the hollow of the skulls and the witch's hovel.

The skulls smiled at him. Mocked him just like she did.

Meeting her gaze again, he nodded in resignation. Unlike the skulls, she did not grin any longer, but the derision in her very existence got to him. It fed the anger in his belly. The futility of releasing it upon her was abundantly clear to him, only shoveling more coal into the flames of his impotent rage.

Yet—he now reckoned he could always kill her after she healed him.

He nodded again and groaned as he gripped one of the glyph-covered boulders and heaved himself back up onto his feet, swaying and wobbling where one of his legs failed to support him and his body threatened to stop obeying him altogether.

She helped him stand. Calloused fingers grazed his shoulder with surprising softness, sending tingles down his spine. To his surprise, she folded his fingers around the grip of his axe, ensuring that he held it firmly.

No more of her awful grins saw him off.

Instead, she pointed down the stream, prompting another nod from the warrior, for it took him more than a second to regain his sense of vision and discern which way the water flowed. The world spun around him in his dizziness, and every finer detail blurred into the bright sun's blinding light.

Though his hand gripped the axe more fiercely now, the weapon's blade soon trailed behind him in the dirt again, dragged in a weary hand too weak to lift it any longer, the head of the axe now scraping against rock and sand until he reached the edge of the water.

He lurched and stumbled downstream. By the time he was out of earshot from the witch, he recoiled and then bent forward, emptying his stomach of its contents, splattering the naked rock before him with his vomit.

The wind howled again, carrying dust across the rocky desert.

Once his shambling gait had carried him over the bend of several boulders, out of sight from the witch, she smiled to herself.

She smiled because she harbored no hopes of him ever slaying the beast. The saber-toothed cat that lived in that cave was her beloved pet. She had reared it from the day it had been a whelp.

She had lied as much as she could to the warrior-zealot, reckoning that he would have killed her once she healed him. The witch could have ended his life once he laid down to rest and eaten the warrior with ease; the venom in his flesh would not have harmed her. Nor would it harm her beloved cat.

However, she relished the thought of providing her pet with an easy snack.

She disappeared back into her hovel to continue working on her stew.

The warrior would never be seen again.

—Submitted by Wratts

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fluffmonger · 4 years

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The Pelor Theory

Or, I’ve spent way to much time overanalysing this, but have this anyways.

So, it’s here at last, Caleb’s big arc, or at least the beginnings of it, and oh man am I stoked. Caleb has had these loose ends dangling for a long time now and Liam has continually been dropping little hints as to the Big Secrets, always very cryptic. Now, this might seem a bit out of left field, but given things like the Moon Theory, hey! Might as well go wild yeah?

Imo, one of the biggest loose ends and mysteries we’ve got regarding Caleb right now is his time in Vergesson Sanitorium, and especially who was the woman who healed him? Why did she do so? So… my theory.

Let’s start at the beginning. Why was Caleb even sent to Vergesson? In his words, “I broke a bit.” He claims he doesn’t remember much of his time there, that it's all kind of a blur for him, except for the woman who healed him. (This is important, we’ll come back to it). It's very clear from everything said in 18, and then expanded on in 49 and further about his scars and Trent’s goals that Caleb was abused and heavily traumatised. That alone, on top of the guilt and stress of hearing his parents dying screams would be enough to break a man.

However, I don’t think it’s as simple as that alone. (continuing under the cut for length)

Trent has placed false memories into the heads of many of his students, brilliant students who from a mechanical standpoint, we can assume have pretty good stats. Beyond that, none of them seem to have realised at the time that their minds were played with magically. Most spells of that nature tend to leave a target aware to a degree if the deviation is too sharp from normal. However, Trent is likely an Enchantment wizard, who specialises in mind fuckery via magical means, using the 14th level feature Alter Memories, which allows an Enchanter to charm people without the noticing or remembering that they were ever charmed (it's utterly terrifying y’all, super abusable).

A very common and powerful spell, that Matt has absolutely used before, is Feeblemind. We know Lady Briarwood had the spell, and used it in her first appearance. We know she was part of the assembly, once long ago before being kicked out. So it's not improbable that Trent also has access to it, and would make use of it. Feeblemind, in short, reduces a creature's intelligence and charisma scores to 1, and prevents them from casting spells, using magic items or even communicating. It is only possible to try to save against it every 30 days, and vs an Archmage’s spell save, with a modifier that low there's no way to get out of it outside of magical intervention.

So where does this leave us?

Caleb broke, after suffering through severe abuse and being manipulated into killing his parents

Caleb, despite having a Keen Mind, cannot remember his time in Vergesson, except in flashes and fuzzy moments

Caleb was very likely subjected to Feeblemind, which he’d only be able to escape via magical means.

Which brings us to the woman. Caleb says that she arrived some years after he broke, and was another patient. She laid her hands on him, and not only was the worst of his mental illness lifted, but his memories were restored to their original state, before Trent altered them. When looking at spells that can remove a Modify Memory and a Feeblemind, the only two that fit the criteria are Wish and Greater Restoration. Wish is a super rare high level spell. It’s unlikely that someone would use it on Caleb, a lost and broken former Volstrucker, even if there's stuff we don't know. If it was a wish spell, that opens up some very intriguing possibilities, however I am not willing to put money on it. However, Greater Restoration is only a 5th level spell. It is available to bards, clerics, druids, certain classes of warlock, and artificers. Of these, I think it's most likely that a cleric is the one who healed Caleb. Why?

Well….

We know Caleb grew up in Blumenthal. Blumenthal is a small farming town outside of Rexxentrum. Its most notable feature is a giant statue of Pelor, the Dawnfather. Liam has stated outright that Caleb, Astrid, and Eadwulf all “walked in the light of the Dawnfather” as children, in his Narrative Telephone story, which he confirmed to be a metaphor for Caleb’s childhood and school years. We know his father was in the military, a low ranking soldier of some sort, and the Dwenadalian Empire honours Pelor as a God of War, and he’s the patron of the Righteous Brand. We know Trent pushed the idea of “Empire Over All,” Caleb stresses this aspect very hard, but we also know that he doesn't believe in anything anymore, when questioned about his feelings re: his training in ep 49.

Pelor is a god of light, previously mostly shown as the patron of Whitestone in CR 1, which makes sense given Whitestone was founded by displaced Dwendalians long ago. He hasn't played much role in CR 2 as of yet, however, the final fight with Obann takes place in his cathedral in Rexxentrum. One of his major symbols is that of a burning brand or brazier that takes the place of his head in depictions.

We have every reason to believe that, as a child, Caleb likely worshipped Pelor to some degree. Additionally, his given name, Bren, means “to burn” in german. Liam has said there's a deeper meaning behind it, however. In the artbook, there's a curious diagram that says “Brennan”. It is set up almost the way we see certain spell circles set up, and within are Roman numerals for 8, 13, and 17. 13 is the age Caleb was when he went to Solystryce. 17 is the age at which he killed his parents. 8 would be a likely age for beginning to show magical potential. I'm still not entirely sure what's happening with that, however, Brennen as a name has several potential sources. In old Gaelic, it can be traced to names meaning sorrow or tears or raindrop/drops. In old english it can be traced to a word meaning Burning Hands, which keeps the fire theme and is very interesting indeed.

Back to the point at hand…. Caleb likely has associations in the past with Pelor, though now he doesn't believe in or worship the gods or the Empire (and in the empire, the gods are but an extension of Empire, really) and there is a deep secret behind his name, and there is more he isn't telling us. What reasons does trent have for keeping him locked in Vergesson when he was already broken and useless? Who would go in just to save a broken man? What is Caleb not saying? I posit that Caleb, Bren really, has some deeper connection to Pelor, which he may not be aware of entirely. There is something about Caleb worth saving. Perhaps he was born on an auspicious day, or with a certain connection in place? Whatever it is, he is important enough, that a cleric of Pelor faked madness or revolutionary sentiment long enough to get into Vergesson themselves as a patient, and then used Greater Restoration on Caleb at least once, but possibly twice, and then faked madness as part of their cover. They are most likely not dead and may or may not still be in the asylum. And I absolutely think we’re going to start seeing these connections pop up as we move back into Caleb's arc, and exploration of the depths of Cerberus.

So tldr, I guess?

Caleb was magically affected by Modify Memory and Feeblemind, and his own mix of neurodivergence and trauma

Caleb was placed in Vergesson after breaking/being controlled in order to be monitored and possibly experimented on to some end of Trent’s

Caleb was later healed by someone who found him, likely using Greater Restoration, which cured him of the magical interference.

This person could have been many classes, but the most common and easiest to see fit into the Empire would be a cleric

This cleric likely served Pelor, and healed Caleb specifically due to Caleb having a connection to Pelor

The nature of this connection is mysterious, but absolutely important, and will play a role in this upcoming arc, if I’m right here.

#caleb widogast #bren aldric ermendrud #trent ikithon #pelor #the dawnfather #dwendalian empire #cr meta #cr theory #critical role #critical role theory #critical role meta #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #the mighty nein #cr2 #cerberus assembly #this may be a bit of a reach but im personally into it #also i know i project re caleb and religion but hey

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

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ASOIAF - Food symbolism: apples and Jon “You have to choose.”

Inspired by this amazing post by @thoughtsandgrumbles I felt compelled to look at apples a little.

Apples are a deeply symbolic fruit on a good day, but I’m not going to go too deeply into the general use, because who has time for that? I’m looking at the text itself. This post will be all about apples in Jon’s chapters, once I get the preliminary rambles out of the way.

Warning: LONG. Many quotes.

Just a few things:

Popularly associated with temptation and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the garden of eden, the realization of being nekkid, the Expulsion of Adam and Eve from paradise as a result. (That would botanically not have been an apple, though.)

The apple “to the fairest” handed out by Eris, godess of discord, for Paris to choose among the three godesses Hera, Athena and Aphrodite, ultimately leading to the Trojan War, which GRRM heavily draws from.

Snow White and the poison apple

Sansa is the name of a variety of apple that was developed in the 1970s, an early ripening mix of Gala and Akane.

Just by the general use, we get a theme of choice and destruction. Also Sansa is an apple. But - spoiler alert - that is NOT very central in Jon’s chapters. YET.

Also, some boring numbers, because this is not as easy a fruit as the persimmon to parse for the sheer amount of them:

Apples in general have 155 mentions in all searchable publications, 135 in the novels directly, 22 in Jon chapters. Only 9 of all the novel-mentions concern House Fossoway, 11 in the other literature.

Top chapter uses:

AFFC, Prologue - 14: Oldtown, Quill and Tankard inn backyard. Alleras shoots them with bow and arrow while the acolyte nerd squad discusses Dany and her dragon rumors. "Where's Rosey? Our rightful queen deserves another round of cider, wouldn't you say?" The apples are withered and wormy, the cider is fearsomely strong. Pate agonizes over his betrayal and theft for his creepy, obsessive love. His choice is “love”. Then he is killed. Complex.

ADWD, Jon V - 11: Jon passes out food and asks the wildlings at Mole’s Town to choose if they want to fight for the NW or not. Apples and onions, you have to choose. The apples are withered.

ADWD, Davos II - 7: Getting information about Manderly from an apple seller in White Harbor. Bad apple, good information. Theme in WH: who are you truly loyal to? The apple is dry and mealy, “bad”. Apples and onions, again.

ASOS, Bran III - 5, and ASOS, Jon V - 3: (8 combined) Rotten apples carpet the ground near an abandoned Queenscrown inn. They provide the background for Jon’s break with the Wildling Undercover Operation and flight back to the Watch. Theme: the abandonment of the Gift, the decline of the Watch, the Dream of Spring and Jon really doesn’t even really pretend to want a future with Ygritte. He chooses. The apples are rotten.

POV uses: Jon 22, Arya 18, Prologue AFFC 14, Sansa 13, Davos 8, Jaime 8, Bran 8, Tyrion 8, Brienne 6, Catelyn 6, Dany 5, Eddard 5, Cersei 3, Theon 3, Samwell 2 JonCon 1, Asha 1, Quentyn 1, Arianne 1, Areo Hotah 1, Prologue ADWD: 1.

Jon is not only the single top POV character to feature the apple, he also has two of the top-use chapters that give the apple significance in setting the background. The apple is very closely tied to Jon.

A short note on the red apple Fossoways (Cider Hall) and the green apple Fossoways (New Barrel):

The branches split at the trial of seven at the Tourney at Ashford (of the Ashford Theory), where the red apple fought for the bad guys (Aerion Targaryen) and the green apple for Ser Duncan the Tall.

Both had the red apple of the Fossoways painted on their shields, but the younger man's was soon hacked and chipped to pieces. "Here's an apple that's not ripe yet," the older said as he slammed the other's helm. (…)

"Ser Raymun, if you please." He cantered up, a grim smile lighting his face beneath his plumed helm. "My pardons, ser. I needed to make a small change to my sigil, lest I be mistaken for my dishonorable cousin." He showed them all his shield. The polished golden field remained the same, and the Fossoway apple, but this apple was green instead of red. "I fear I am still not ripe . . . but better green than wormy, eh?"

(The Hedge Knight)

Again with the split of loyalty, with the following your moral code, with the choices.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So how do apples feature for Jon himself?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apples are connected to Jon’s struggle of loyalty to the Night’s Watch, and with his inner struggle in general. Every time they show up, he is confronted with a choice of who to stay loyal to, what values to follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First apple: AGOT, Jon IX.

Jon’s final chapter in the book. Big Drama!

Jon eats a brown, withered apple when he tries to flee the NW the first time. He is heading South because his father has been killed and he wants to join Robb. He is plagued by self-doubt and fear. Then he takes a break to eat.

In his saddlebag, he found a biscuit, a piece of cheese, and a small withered brown apple. (...) He kept the apple for last. It had gone a little soft, but the flesh was still tart and juicy. He was down to the core when he heard the sounds: horses, and from the north.

Straight after, he is caught and prodded back in an incredibly moving, nonviolent confrontation by his new Brothers reciting the NW vows.

"… and all the nights to come," finished Pyp. He reached over for Jon's reins. "So here are your choices. Kill me, or come back with me."

Jon lifted his sword … and lowered it, helpless. "Damn you," he said. "Damn you all."

In his mind, Jon is determined to try and escape again, but the next day, Mormont lets him know they knew what happened.

Jon’s throat was dry. “You know?” “Know,” the raven echoed from Mormont’s shoulder. “Know.” The Old Bear snorted. “Do you think they chose me Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch because I’m dumb as a stump, Snow? Aemon told me you’d go. I told him you’d be back. I know my men … and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad … and honor brought you back.” “My friends brought me back,” Jon said. “Did I say it was your honor?” Mormont inspected his plate.

Jon thinks he’ll be executed. Instead, he will be taken along to the great ranging beyond the Wall.

“So I will have an answer from you, Lord Snow, and I will have it now. Are you a brother of the Night’s Watch … or only a bastard boy who wants to play at war?” Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran … forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. “I am … yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again.” The Old Bear snorted. “Good. Now go put on your sword.”

Apple = choice. The choice is the Watch. Because the war against the Others is more important.

Apple Quality: Brown and whithered. But still tart and juicy.

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Second apple: ACOK, Jon I

A former green apple (the valiantly knightly Fossoway kind) is to be dispatched from the Wall to garner support from a Baratheon king...

"Renly is not like to heed a quaking fat boy. I'll send Ser Arnell. He's a deal steadier, and his mother was one of the green-apple Fossoways."

"If it please my lord, what would you have of King Renly?"

The conversation turns toward maester Aemon, his repeated refusal to become king and the incredibly foreshadowy information about the ending of the dragon line.

It made him feel odd. “My lord, why have you told me this, about Maester Aemon?” “Must I have a reason?” Mormont shifted in his seat, frowning. “Your brother Robb has been crowned King in the North. You and Aemon have that in common. A king for a brother.” “And this too,” said Jon. “A vow.” (…)

Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring. “And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?” “What will you do?” Mormont asked. “Bastard as you are?” “Be troubled,” said Jon, “and keep my vows.”

Apple = choice. The choice is the Watch. The bigger picture is more important.

Apple Quality: green and unripe. (But honorable.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Third apple: ACOK, Jon VII

Jon and the Qhorin Halfhand crew are on the losing side of a game of cat and mouse with the warg-powered wildlings. Squire Dalbridge is about to sacrifice his life by going to shoot the Wildlings that are stalking them.

The squire bowed his head. "Leave me as many arrows as you can spare, brothers." He stroked his longbow. "And see my garron has an apple when you're home. He's earned it, poor beastie."

He's staying to die, Jon realized.

And that’s almost right at the end of the chapter. This is the only apple chapter where Jon is NOT immediately confronted with a moral dilemma of loyalty or the making of choices. And Dalbridge’s self-sacrifice, his off-page death, all of that means it’s a more long-term projection of the dilemma.

The next, final chapter, Jon and Qhorin Halfhand are captured and he is compelled to kill Qhorin to prove himself a turncloak to the Wildlings, in order to start his Undercover Operation.

The flames were burning low by then, the warmth fading. “The fire will soon go out,” Qhorin said, “but if the Wall should ever fall, all the fires will go out.” There was nothing Jon could say to that. He nodded. “We may escape them yet,” the ranger said. “Or not.” “I’m not afraid to die.” It was only half a lie. “It may not be so easy as that, Jon.” He did not understand. “What do you mean?”

(…)

Rattleshirt’s bone armor clattered loudly as he laughed. “Then kill the Halfhand, bastard.” “As if he could,” said Qhorin. “Turn, Snow, and die.” And then Qhorin’s sword was coming at him and somehow Longclaw leapt upward to block. The force of impact almost knocked the bastard blade from Jon’s hand, and sent him staggering backward. You must not balk, whatever is asked of you.

(…)

He knew, he thought numbly. He knew what they would ask of me. He thought of Samwell Tarly then, of Grenn and Dolorous Edd, of Pyp and Toad back at Castle Black. Had he lost them all, as he had lost Bran and Rickon and Robb? Who was he now? What was he?

“Get him up.” Rough hands dragged him to his feet. Jon did not resist. “Do you have a name?” Ygritte answered for him. “His name is Jon Snow. He is Eddard Stark’s blood, of Winterfell.”

(ACOK, Jon VIII)

Ouch. From this point on, Jon will have to make his own choices, no longer guided by other people’s rules, other people’s honor. The choices will be harder, lonelier. They will be contradictory, they will involve even more tangible loss. They will involve dishonor. The reward is as distant as home. Sacrifice. Death.

But one day, the poor beastie will get an apple, he will have earned it.

Apple = choice. The choice is the Watch. The bigger picture.

Apple quality: unknown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fourth apple: ASOS, Jon I

As inconspicuously as above, the apple features in a memory of home, featuring not-yet-deserter Mance Rayder at Winterfell, meeting Robb and Jon up to shennanigans:

“I remember,” said Jon with a startled laugh. A young black brother on the wallwalk, yes … “You swore not to tell.”

"And kept my vow. That one, at least."

"We dumped the snow on Fat Tom. He was Father's slowest guardsman." Tom had chased them around the yard afterward, until all three were red as autumn apples. "But you said you saw me twice. When was the other time?"

"When King Robert came to Winterfell to make your father Hand," the King-beyond-the-Wall said lightly. (ASOS, Jon I)

A neat connection between desertion, vow-keeping and the events that led Jon to take his own path to the Wall. Before Meeting Mance, Ygritte has been praising the values of being “free” like the good Little Wildling Propagandist that she is. But Jon isn’t biting yet.

The following conversation gives the backstory of Mance Rayder’s desertion from the Wall. It was over a cloak, mended by a Wildling woman who tended to him while he was injured.

“And she sewed up the rents in my cloak as well, with some scarlet silk from Asshai that her grandmother had pulled from the wreck of a cog washed up on the Frozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had, and her gift to me.” He swept the cloak back over his shoulders. “But at the Shadow Tower, I was given a new wool cloak from stores, black and black, and trimmed with black, to go with my black breeches and black boots, my black doublet and black mail. The new cloak had no frays nor rips nor tears … and most of all, no red. The men of the Night’s Watch dressed in black, Ser Denys Mallister reminded me sternly, as if I had forgotten. My old cloak was fit for burning now, he said. “I left the next morning … for a place where a kiss was not a crime, and a man could wear any cloak he chose.” He closed the clasp and sat back down again. “And you, Jon Snow?”

Jon uses Mance’s story of visiting Winterfell to spin his own lie:

“And did you see where I was seated, Mance?” He leaned forward. “Did you see where they put the bastard?” Mance Rayder looked at Jon’s face for a long moment. “I think we had best find you a new cloak,” the king said, holding out his hand.

What will the bastard do? Be troubled and keep his vows. So far, so true. But he did kill Qhorin Halfhand, he is pretending to be a deserter. Lines are a lot more blurry than they used to be.

Apple = choice. The choice is… the Night’s Watch. Shifting more and more toward simply the bigger picture.

Apple quality: red autumn apple.

Red silk patches. Conflicting values. Women. There is uncertainty on the horizon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifth apple. ASOS Jon V. BIG apple chapter.

His final confrontation as an Undercover Wildling.

This confrontation takes place at the abandoned tower and village of Queenscrown, which gets a closer description in the accompanying Bran chapter:

No one had lived in the village for long years, Bran could see. All the houses were falling down. Even the inn. It had never been much of an inn, to look at it, but now all that remained was a stone chimney and two cracked walls, set amongst a dozen apple trees. One was growing up through the common room, where a layer of wet brown leaves and rotting apples carpeted the floor. The air was thick with the smell of them, a cloying cidery scent that was almost overwhelming. Meera stabbed a few apples with her frog spear, trying to find some still good enough to eat, but they were all too brown and wormy.

(ASOS, Bran III)

The abandonment of Brandon’s Gift is a subject of conflict between Jon and Ygritte. A carpet of rotting apples. It opens the very next Jon chapter, as they are on the way to Queenscrown. Ygritte mocks the farmers who left the Gift as fools. Jon doesn’t take the bait yet. He briefly indulges in a fantasy of introducing Ygritte to Winterfell before being overcome with guilt and shame again. Ygritte is super great at reading his mood:

“Might be after we could come back here, and live in that tower,” she said. “Would you want that, Jon Snow? After?”

He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t answer for a while, it rather reminds him of Ned’s Dream of Spring, the plan to resettle the Gift. The Starks and the Watch.

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father’s name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged. “This land belongs to the Watch,” Jon said. Her nostrils flared. “No one lives here.”

Jon isn’t even tempted. Like, no, Jon, Bambi, you did not love this person, no matter what your telling yourself later. He doesn’t even really contemplate it.

Instead of bonding them closer together, Ygritte’s invitation to make long-term plans has the opposite effect. It fans the flames of what divides them. They argue about raiding and rape. Ygritte spouts nonsense.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow. Daughters are taken, not wives. You’re the ones who steal. You took the whole world, and built the Wall t’ keep the free folk out.”

Ygritte, no, that is not why the Wall was built. You think they built a gargantuan magic ice structure to keep out Styr, Magnar of Thenn, or what? Really? Jon is also sceptical of this version of history:

“Did we?” Sometimes Jon forgot how wild she was, and then she would remind him. “How did that happen?”

"The gods made the earth for all men t' share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. My trees, they said, you can't eat them apples. My stream, you can't fish here. My wood, you're not t' hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I'll chop 'em off, but maybe if you kneel t' me I'll let you have a sniff. You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t' kneel."

Ygritte is basically a bland political extremist. I could sympathize with her criticism of feudal culture if it didn’t come hand in hand with her passionate defense of violent theft and rape culture. Like, you paragon of intelligence, not everyone resides at the fair top of the food chain like you do in your peak fitness status within your warrior culture. But of course, rape is fun! Just bring a knife!

"Harma and the Bag of Bones don't come raiding for fish and apples. They steal swords and axes. Spices, silks, and furs. They grab every coin and ring and jeweled cup they can find, casks of wine in summer and casks of beef in winter, and they take women in any season and carry them off beyond the Wall."

Apples in a breath with women. People should not be “stolen”. But Ygritte thinks men who successfully abduct and rape women are sexy. She’s like Dany that way. There are some cultural divides that cannot be pretended away, and their entire conversation circles around it. Jon is plagued by terrible guilt, he tries to warn Ygritte that their plan is doomed, she (rightfully) suspects his loyalty to the Wildlings and Jon believes himself in love but he never wavers in his actual allegiance to the NW.

She grinned at that, showing Jon the crooked teeth that he had somehow come to love. Wildling to the bone, he thought again, with a sick sad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand, and wondered what Ygritte would do if she knew his heart. Would she betray him if he sat her down and told her that he was still Ned Stark’s son and a man of the Night’s Watch? He hoped not, but he dare not take that risk.

GRRM is going out of his way to undermine the supposed romance by constantly referring to the conflict between them and the apples-of-choice are just all over.

Anyway, Jon is thoroughly eaten by guilt over having to betray these human beings who are a vicious and brutal threat to the place and people he loves and swore to protect. His true identity is hinted at:

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone. He did not want to die alone.

Ghost. Not Ygritte. Not the wildlings. Not the Watch, even. Ghost. Wolf.

They arrive at the Queenscrown inn and an old man is captured.

Jon walked away. A rotten apple squished beneath his heel. Styr will kill him. The Magnar had said as much at Greyguard; any kneelers they met were to be put to death at once, to make certain they could not raise the alarm. Ride with them, eat with them, fight with them. Did that mean he must stand mute and helpless while they slit an old man's throat?

The apples are rotten. Jon spends one last moment with Ygritte contemplating Queenscrown and then the “kill the old man” business starts. He struggles but ultimately refuses. Bran’s wolf Summer disrupts the tension with a bloody attack and Jon doesn’t hesitate to Escape. Like when they met, Jon didn’t slit Ygritte’s throat, but she slit the old man’s. He will not shoot arrows at her, but she did at him. Love.

Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, but above him the clouds were breaking up. Jon searched the sky until he found the Ice Dragon, then turned the mare north for the Wall and Castle Black. The throb of pain in his thigh muscle made him wince as he put his heels into the old man’s horse. I am going home, he told himself. But if that was true, why did he feel so hollow?

Apple = choice. The choice is… NOT Ygritte. NOT the Wildlings. Time and again. But it also isn’t the Watch. Not as it had been before. Jon followed his instincts, his inner values, but it had a cost, it is hard. Jon is lost.

Apple Quality: rotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sixth apple: ASOS, Jon VII

The Battle at Castle Black They await the attack, Jon and Satin share a meal. And they get a nod to Renly’s peach quote:

"Eat," Jon told him. "There's no knowing when you'll have another chance." He took two buns himself. The nuts were pine nuts, and besides the raisins there were bits of dried apple. (ASOS, Jon VII)

Compare to Renly, which also took place before a nightly sneak attack.

"A man should never refuse to taste a peach," Renly said as he tossed the stone away. "He may never get the chance again. Life is short, Stannis. Remember what the Starks say. Winter is coming." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. (ACOK, Catelyn III)

Peaches have an air of incest and hedonism about them, nostalgia and summer, Baratheons and Arya and Asha. The apple is different. It’s about choice, about conflicted loyalty and personal values, about identity and the bigger picture. (And again and again, they connect to women.)

Jon commands part of the fight, it’s grim. He recognizes some of the wildlings as they pepper them with arrows but cannot shoot at who he thinks is Ygritte. Wildlings die, his brothers die. The battle is brutal, Jon’s POV is distant. Satin remains by his side all throughout, grounding him. Jon remembers advice from Theon, from Ned. They eventually beat the wildling attackers with a horrifying fire trap on the stairs, they win. Immediately after, Jon goes looking for Ygritte, Satin still by his side.

The ice crystals had settled over her face, and in the moonlight it looked as though she wore a glittering silver mask. The arrow was black, Jon saw, but it was fletched with white duck feathers. Not mine, he told himself, not one of mine. But he felt as if it were.

We get a Dany-Val nod…

The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."

"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." (ADWD, Jon VIII)

...and a lovely double-layered “not mine, not one of mine”. Not his arrows, but he feels guilty. She is not his pack, but he feels guilty.

She just smiled at that. “D’you remember that cave? We should have stayed in that cave. I told you so.” “We’ll go back to the cave,” he said. “You’re not going to die, Ygritte. You’re not.” “Oh.” Ygritte cupped his cheek with her hand. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she sighed, dying.

Jon struggles to let go of the fantasy. He is loyal to the cause of the Watch, if not the letter of the vows, but he knows now that his souls want more. He indulges Ygritte’s fantasy of returning because it’s the only thing he has, the only thing he can offer.

Apple = choice. The choice is… the Watch. But painfully. Numbly. No passion. Duty.

Apple quality: dried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seventh apple: ASOS, Jon X

Tormund’s daughter Munda.

After vicious attacking Janos Slynt for insulting Ned Stark during a hiostile interrogation in the previous chapter, Jon is sent to kill Mance Rayder under the pretense of parley to prove his loyalty. He is resigned and shame-filled, contemplating his future, where he will be remembered in honorless infamy. Much bitterness, plenty of woe. His reception by Tormund is surprisingly jovial. They drink mead to honor their fallen Donal Noye and Ygritte, with surprisingly little bitterness. It helps Jon return some of his cheer.

"You bloody crows." Tormund's tone was gruff, yet strangely gentle. "That Longspear stole me daughter. Munda, me little autumn apple. Took her right out o' my tent with all four o' her brothers about.” Toregg slept through it, the great lout, and Torwynd … well, Torwynd the Tame, that says all that needs saying, don’t it? The young ones gave the lad a fight, though.”

“And Munda?” asked Jon. “She’s my own blood,” said Tormund proudly. “She broke his lip for him and bit one ear half off, and I hear he’s got so many scratches on his back he can’t wear a cloak. She likes him well enough, though. And why not? He don’t fight with no spear, you know. Never has. So where do you think he got that name? Har!” Jon had to laugh. Even now, even here.

Autumn apple. Stolen women. Cloak.

Stealing women was a hot topic with Ygritte and Jon is immediately concerned, but is reassured. The tenor of the conversation is conciliatory, while he is revealed to be loyal to the Watch, there is mutual respect. In Jon’s thoughts, Ygritte becomes a mentor voice, drifting away from the romantic woe of before.

Easy for you to say, he thought back. You died brave in battle, storming the castle of a foe. I’m going to die a turncloak and a killer. Nor would his death be quick, unless it came on the end of Mance’s sword.

Similarly to Dany later, Jon is arguing with dead beloved abusers in his head, like she will do in ADWD with Viserys. Ygritte is less obviously horrific, but the “voices in my head” aspect and the sheer idealising that both of them engage in feels disconcerting. Never the less, we see Jon’s current identity status on Facebook is “turncloak”. Not Night’s Watch.

The rest of Mance’s “court” is less welcoming, but Mance draws him in for a private conference. The Horn of Winter is revealed, the mutual cause of the Wildlings and the Night’s Watch is identified.

“If I sound the Horn of Winter, the Wall will fall. Or so the songs would have me believe. There are those among my people who want nothing more …” “But once the Wall is fallen,” Dalla said, “what will stop the Others?”

(Dalla has the brains that Ygritte lacked. Why can SHE not be Jon’s mentor?)

Mance offers to hand over the Horn of Joramun if they let the Wildlings pass through the Wall, or he will destroy the Wall in three days. Jon hesitates because he fears they will ransack the place, but he also has no negotiating credit with Thorne and Slynt. He contemplates just smashing the Horn, when suddenly Stannis attacks. The Wildlings are smashed, a helpless Jon enters the tent with Val to attend Dalla.

He is just... disillusioned.

Apple = choice. The choice is… the bigger picture. The Watch is headed by irrational scum, the Wildlings are no less dangerous to the North than they were before and Jon has no hope of saving his ruined reputation either way. He was about to murder Mance, then about to smash his bargaining chip, yet he has no ill will toward them. Only a depressed, numb resignation to preventing the worst of all outcomes.

Apple Quality: autumn apple.

Again with the autumn apple. There are only 3 “autumn apples” in the books, all in ASOS. Jon I (above with Mance), Samwell II, and Jon X here.

In Jon I it connected Mance’s disloyalty to the Watch to the red-and-black cloak given to him by a woman. Also Bael the Bard, deception and stealing. Jon consults his inner values, and chooses pragmatism. His break with “blind” honor will leave him flailing a bit.

In Jon X it specifically refers to a young woman being stolen. Jon consults his inner values, he chooses the bigger picture, but he’s frayed and his choice is interrupted. Stannis will offer him Winterfell. Ghost will remind him of who he is. Ultimately, he will become Lord Commander and his struggle with loyalty will cease for a long time.

What’s Sam’s autumn apple about? They are listed with many foodstuffs that the angry NW brother’s at Craster’s after the fight at the Fist of the First Men expect to receive. Mormont just remembered the true purpose of the Watch. Gilly has just given birth to her son. Sam offers to take the boy, Craster gets mad. they bury a dead brother and the mood is mutinous.

“Apples,” said Garth of Greenaway. “Barrels and barrels of crisp autumn apples. There are apple trees out there, I saw ’em.”

A confrontation breaks out and they kill Craster and stab Mormont. Sam’s friends flee, the others raid and rape, Sam cradles a dying Mormont. Some wives approach and order Sam to take Gilly to safety.

Gilly was crying. “Me and the babe. Please. I’ll be your wife, like I was Craster’s. Please, ser crow. He’s a boy, just like Nella said he’d be. If you don’t take him, they will.” “They?” said Sam, and the raven cocked its black head and echoed, “They. They. They.” “The boy’s brothers,” said the old woman on the left. “Craster’s sons. The white cold’s rising out there, crow. I can feel it in my bones. These poor old bones don’t lie. They’ll be here soon, the sons.”

The massive abundance of apples suggests a link to the abundance of women, to the connection to inner values over formal loyalty, to the “stealing” of Gilly to save her. To the massive bigger picture. With Jon it translates to his trademark quick-thinking pragmatism, with Sam it translates to compassion and identifying valuable information.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8th and final apple: ADWD, Jon V - The Grand Appling.

ADWD Jon V is another big apple chapter: you have to choose!

Much time has passed since the last apples were mentioned. Jon is Lord Commander and has sent away Sam, Gilly and maester Aemon. The Wildlings are south of the Wall. Food is a constant worry. Bowen Marsh is upset with Jon, Jon is super-diplomatic. Not. It’s time to bring provisions to the Wildlings at Mole’s Town. A Mirror to Dany in ADWD, Daenerys VI, bringing food to the Astapori refugees. The Wildlings are grumpy. Jon struggles to balance the culture clash between free folk, Stannis’ men and Wildlings.

Pig ignorance, Jon thought. The free folk were no different than the men of the Night’s Watch; some were clean, some dirty, but most were clean at times and dirty at other times.

Jon is much removed from his earlier woeful struggles or idealism. A weary pragmatism guides his every action. Grey.

Apples ensue:

"You can have an onion or an apple," Jon heard Hairy Hal tell one woman, "but not both. You got to pick."

The woman did not seem to understand. "I need two of each. One o' each for me, t'others for my boy. He's sick, but an apple will set him right."

Hal shook his head. "He has to come get his own apple. Or his onion. Not both. Same as you. Now, is it an apple or an onion? Be quick about it, now, there's more behind you."

"An apple," she said, and he gave her one, an old dried thing, small and withered.

"Move along, woman," shouted a man three places back. "It's cold out here."

The woman paid the shout no mind. "Another apple," she said to Hairy Hal. "For my son. Please. This one is so little."

Hal looked to Jon. Jon shook his head. They would be out of apples soon enough. If they started giving two to everyone who wanted two, the latecomers would get none.

"Out of the way," a girl behind the woman said. Then she shoved her in the back. The woman staggered, lost her apple, and fell. The other foodstuffs in her arms went flying. Beans scattered, a turnip rolled into a mud puddle, a sack of flour split and spilled its precious contents in the snow.

Apples are once again almost aggressively connected to choices. Apples or onions. Not both. You have to pick.

Barring another meta, I can’t really say what the onion is supposed to represent. Some things that echoe Jon’s apple themes:

His sons were good fighters and better sailors, but they did not know how to talk to lords. They were lowborn, even as I was, but they do not like to recall that. When they look at our banner, all they see is a tall black ship flying on the wind. They close their eyes to the onion. (ACOK, Davos I)

Denial.

Dany nibbled at an onion and reflected ruefully on the faithlessness of men. (ACOK, Daenerys III)

Faithlessness.

The feast was a meager enough thing, a succession of fish stews, black bread, and spiceless goat. The tastiest thing Theon found to eat was an onion pie. Ale and wine continued to flow well after the last of the courses had been cleared away. (ACOK, Theon II)

Theon about to be ordered to attack Winterfell. Betrayal.

The last time it was life I brought to Storm's End, shaped to look like onions. This time it is death, in the shape of Melisandre of Asshai. (ACOK, Davos II)

Life and death brought by the same person.

Melisandre’s manichean world view vs. Davos’ more encompassing one:

"What if I am? It seems to me that most men are grey."

"If half of an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good, or he is evil." (ACOK, Davos II)

Bless you Sam.

Hungry as he was, Sam knew he would retch if he so much as tried a bite. How could they eat the poor faithful garrons who had carried them so far? When Craster's wives brought onions, he seized one eagerly. One side was black with rot, but he cut that part off with his dagger and ate the good half raw. (ASOS, Samwell II)

Considering apples represent the choice you make to serve an ethical bigger picture (not necessarily loyalty to an order), onions seem to show a contrasting duality of bad and good, a refusal to position oneself honestly, dirty compromises, the darkness in human beings.

Davos’ entire arc circles around being a very decent human being who none the less supports a whole lot of questionable crap. Our resident kraken Theon is torn inside unable to choose between Greyjoy and Stark identity and becomes monstrous.

Melisandre downright denies the existence of grey. The presence of bad cancels out all good. Samwell, on the other hand, embraces the good while disregarding the bad.

Ygritte smelled of onion. Dany eats wild onion on her dragon grassland chapter, Jorah eats onion. Brienne has onion soup on her way to Lady Stoneheart. Jon offers the Wildlings onion soup after they burn their god’s for Melisandre in echange for safety. Dark compromises.

So the choice between apples and onions is the choice to MAKE a choice. Stop hedging your bets or practicing denial, position yourself, one way or the other.

The woman who refuses to choose, loses her apple, loses the fruit that will set her sick son right, loses her cance at following her inner moral compass and doing the right thing.

There is a tussle, Jon tries to rally them with a speech. They are in a Mutiny at Craster’s Keep kind of mood.

“You want more food?” asked Jon. “The food’s for fighters. Help us hold the Wall, and you’ll eat as well as any crow.” Or as poorly, when the food runs short. (…)

“Fight for you?” This voice was thickly accented. Sigorn, the young Magnar of Thenn, spoke the Common Tongue haltingly at best. “Not fight for you. Kill you better. Kill all you.” The raven flapped its wings. “Kill, kill.” Sigorn’s father, the old Magnar, had been crushed beneath the falling stair during his attack on Castle Black. I would feel the same if someone asked me to make common cause with the Lannisters, Jon told himself. “Your father tried to kill us all,” he reminded Sigorn. “The Magnar was a brave man, yet he failed. And if he had succeeded … who would hold the Wall?”

Jon believes in the greyness of men, but he also believes in choices. You don’t have to be perfect to do the right thing. But you have to do the right thing. Or a thing, anyway. You have to choose.

There is more commotion. Jon decides to make it simpler.

"Hal, what was it that you told this woman?"

Hal looked confused. "About the food, you mean? An apple or an onion? That's all I said. They got to pick."

"You have to pick," Jon Snow repeated. "All of you. No one is asking you to take our vows, and I do not care what gods you worship. My own gods are the old gods, the gods of the North, but you can keep the red god, or the Seven, or any other god who hears your prayers. It's spears we need. Bows. Eyes along the Wall. (…)

He recruits, actively.

“The choice is yours,” Jon Snow told them. “Those who want to help us hold the Wall, return to Castle Black with me and I’ll see you armed and fed. The rest of you, get your turnips and your onions and crawl back inside your holes.”

Apples yay, onions nay. Dany killed the slavers of Astapor, and left alive only children under the age of 12. Jon recruit ages 12 and up for the Watch, girls and boys. Dany killed 163 random slavers. Jon recruits 63 Wildlings.

By the time the last withered apple had been handed out, the wagons were crowded with wildlings, and they were sixty-three stronger than when the column had set out from Castle Black that morning.

The apples win out. No more mention of onions in this chapter.

The chapter ends on a grey note, uncertain but hopeful.

Marsh was unconvinced. “You’ve added sixty-three more mouths, my lord … but how many are fighters, and whose side will they fight on? If it’s the Others at the gates, most like they’ll stand with us, I grant you … but if it’s Tormund Giantsbane or the Weeping Man come calling with ten thousand howling killers, what then?” “Then we’ll know. So let us hope it never comes to that.”

Hilariously, it is not the treachery of the apple-choosing wildlings Jon will have to worry about.

The abundance of onions and apples in this chapter sets up the struggle Jon faces in later ADWD chapters. The bigger picture v. Arya. Apples are done, for now, the onions stalk him. He tries to strikes a balance. He hesitates, he sends Mance, he struggles. In the end, the Pink Letter sends him over the edge.

Apples v. onions. Jon has chosen.

Apples = choice. The choices is… NOT the Watch. Arya. The North. The bigger picture. House Stark.

Apple Quality: withered. Like the very first apple.

Jon stood tall. He told himself that he would die well; that much he could do, at the least. “I know the penalty for desertion, my lord. I’m not afraid to die.” “Die!” the raven cried. “Nor live, I hope,” Mormont said, cutting his ham with a dagger and feeding a bite to the bird. (AGOT, Jon IX)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In conclusion:

Apples signal the necessity for Jon make a moral choice according to his own personal values.

Jon always has his eyes on the bigger picture.

His choices becomes increasingly divorced from the concept of loyalty to the Watch.

There is a pronounced conflict between apple and onion, between moral choice and refusal to choose. Jon tries to walk the line between the letter of his vows and his values. He ends up choosing his values. It goes badly.

The quality of the apples has a relationship with the ease of choosing.

whithered apples are fairly clean choices,

rotten apples are traumatic choices,

autumn apples relate to choices influenced by the wisdom of women, the stealing of women.

There is a future apple promised to “the beastie” as a reward.

If we want to draw a connection to the show, Jon will clearly face another apples v. onions conflict and the need to choose will feature heavily. It will go badly. But there is the promise of home and reward.

#asoiaf #fruit symbolism #apples #jon snow #you have to choose #my posts

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