THE SHERIFF AND GUY OF GISBORNE
uh. try to stay with me for a second. so incest motifs are a huge part of medieval lit. you see it in arthuriana cycles, you see it in romances, it's a whole thing.
Incest and the Medieval Imagination, Elizabeth Archibald
so robin hood. both adaptions and the text itself, tend to get interesting with guy of gisborne. and I will say that while I found the media being discussed in this text absolutely fucking insufferable to watch, the discussion on it was delicious, impeccable, show stopping
Mouvance, Greenwood, and Gender in The Adventures of Robin Hood and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Brian J Levy and Lesley Coote
and with regards to discussions on the origin text (which I love and adore forever)
Horseplay: Robin Hood, Guy of Gisborne, and the Neg(oti)ation of the Bestial, Stuart Kane
we're. getting to the point, I promise. guy of gisborne and the sheriff in my own "adaption" are not cousins, but brothers in law (fucked up brothers in law are my thing over on my other blog. brutus and cassius? I'm there. caligula and lepidus? all over that, baby!) because I'm aiming for an adjacent transgression.
on the topic of adjacent transgressions and guy's comment in this comic about cannibalism: there's an overlap in various genres of literature, predominantly in branches of horror and tragedy: between cannibalism and incest. (additionally! a lot of texts will take on christian subtexts and allusions, so there's a bonus homoerotic cannibalism discussion happening wrt communion that I'll get into in the future) it's about. chomping. the teeth, you know.
Managing Monsters, Marina Warner
Statius and Virgil: The Thebaid and the Reinterpretation of the Aeneid, Randall T. Ganiban
there's a 100% chance I will revise the sheriff's design at some point, but I wanted to draw the flowers exploding out of the spine so bad
AND FINALLY, the neck focus on guy is half due to his fate in his origin tale (beheaded) and half my own invention: I girl-with-a-green-ribboned him. a little narrative necromancy, if you will.
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Gotham loved all her children fiercely.
Every single parent working three jobs, every corrupt politician lining their pockets with tax payer money, every exhausted student scraping by on rent, every doctor, drug dealer, lawyer and killer. She loved them all. Even those she hated beyond words, beyond ability to comprehend, those of her children so filled with evil not even a mother’s love could excuse or condone, even those she still loved.
They were all pieces of herself. As much a part of her as her cracked pavement and unruly parks and dirty cobblestone street skin, as the smoke and smog and storming haze of her hair, as the glint of her stained glass and cctv eyes. Her Populous made her as much as she made them, over years more cursed than blessed, shaping her with their stubbornness and pride and strength.
She did not love equally though.
It was not something that guilted her. That all children should have equal parts affection were concerns of living things. And though it could never be argued that the Spirit of Gotham was anything but alive, it is not the same as being living. She is a City Spirit, first and foremost. Her children are counted in the millions, and though she knows every second of every life that call her home, there are those that she gives more of her love to than others.
Her Bats and Birds, who flit around her jagged skylines and down her shadowed streets and gave all of themselves to trying to protect so many. She loved them dearly, wanted to do everything in her power to care for them as they cared for her. Had done everything, when it became clear that she hadn’t power enough.
A deal with the King Infinite could be a dangerous thing, a great risk only the most reckless were willing to entertain.
But the King that had instilled such an apprehension in the Infinite Realms was gone now. Stripped of crown and ring and title, consumed in his entirety by his conqueror - though it had taken time and a great deal of danger for the new King to complete that right - Pirah Dark was a bad memory.
Phantom was something else.
And Gotham was willing to be a little reckless in trusting the whispers of her dead that their new ruler was a fair and kind one. That his Obsession was not with power, but with Protection.
That the King could use a little Protection himself, on the mortal side.
She’d made an offer, a Deal.
The King’s Grave Mother accepted on his and their Grave’s behalf. If it was, perhaps, a little underhanded to speak with the Queen Mother rather than the King himself, well. Gotham was born of shady dealings, the language of slanted deals was her first, and she could craft contracts that would put any Fae or Demon to shame.
It was a good deal though. Equal and fair for both sides. She’d been born of human kindness and empathy too, though they were not as easy a touch stone.
The King was kind, and hurt and in need of a protector of his own. His Grave were doing his best, but Halfa were things Between. They could not live all on one side of the veil completely. They needed a place on the mortal side, where they would not need to fear being hunted. Gotham could give them that. Gotham could be that.
What she asked for in return wasn’t so great a price.
If, perhaps, upon the King and his Grave taking up residence within the bounds of her Populous, she gained more than just the power she asked? A mere coincidence. Surely. The other City Spirits were just bitter that their more straight forward Populous hadn’t allowed them to think of such a scheme, to claim otherwise.
Besides, she thinks it still worked out equal enough. Companionship for some of her lonely Birds meant companionship for the King and his Grave as well after all.
Even if it took a bit of nudging to get them all to fall in place. It was a mother’s right to meddle in the lives of her children, after all. Her duty to help ensure they found good partners. And she was hardly the first parent to feel that nothing short of royalty was good enough for her children.
*
Blurb from me figuring out the vibe between the Spirit of Gotham and the Pham in my Gotham’s Favorite Therapist Jazz AU. Also a writing prompt for anyone who wants to run with this haha
Believe it or not, this originally popped up because I had the idea “What if the person Gotham loves most in the world is Alfred because he looks after her favorite kids?” and it turned into this lol Eventually I’ll actually write the scene where Alfred and Gotham sit down and have tea together and talk about their kids.
In this AU/my headcanons Grave is the term Ghosts use to reference family (in the context of people you love and care for, doesn’t have to be actual blood relations or anything and more often than not is used to describe found family).
I just like the idea of a grave being seen as a place of peace and rest and for actual dead/ghosts you find that not in a literal grave but in the people you call your own. Also just like the alliteration of “A Grave of Ghosts” lol
Also have the idea that a Grave has a social structure similar to wolves not in the sense of the shitty incorrect misunderstanding with alpha/beta/omega sense, but in the sense that it’s all family dynamics with one or more families grouped together with parents generally trying to wrangle/look after everyone else. The head(s) of a Grave is called a Grave Parent/Father/Mother (in this case, Jazz being the Grave Mother).
Not referenced in here but gonna add it here anyway: I like the idea that the concept of “Ghost King” is meant to actually be more like “Grave Parent to all Graves and ghosts” rather than actual king, and that Pirah Dark just kinda fucked that whole vibe up with his shit. Just really like the idea of things going back to that with Danny having a more protector role and ghosts start using the title “Grave Father” for him (maybe with some misunderstanding of what that means and folks not in the know thinking it some ominous title lol).
Don’t have time to tag everyone who asked at the moment, but I’ll come back & do that later after work
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