Can I Download Nah, I’D Derail Canon As An Ebook?

I dug through the usual places and can say with confidence where Obanai’s canon height shows up: official character profiles embedded in the collected manga volumes, the official fanbook, and the franchise’s own character pages. Specifically, the character data printed in the tankobon (manga volume) extras and the 'Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Official Fanbook' list Obanai Iguro’s height as 160 cm (roughly 5'3"). Those official print sources are the gold standard because they come directly from authorial or publisher materials rather than community guesses. Beyond printed profiles, the anime’s official website and licensed English publisher material (for example, the character pages and guide text that accompany the English volumes) also repeat the 160 cm figure. Fan sites and wikis will often mirror those numbers, but I always cross-check against the original fanbook or the tankobon extras when I want a canonical citation. If you need to cite something in a discussion or a post, point to the fanbook page or the manga volume’s profile as your primary source; the anime site and the VIZ pages are handy backups and accessible to people who don’t read Japanese. All that said, you’ll still see people quoting slightly different conversions or rounding (5'3" vs 5'2.99"), and some game stats or promotional materials occasionally list approximations. For solid canon, go with the official fanbook or the character profile in the manga volumes — to me, that’s the satisfying, provable bit of trivia about Obanai.

You can pin the moment Rachel Price's return became official to a specific on-screen and off-screen one-two punch. On the show itself, her reappearance is presented as plainly canonical in season 4, episode 7, titled 'Homecoming' — that's where the narrative treats her presence as factual, characters react to her like she never stopped being part of the world, and plot threads that had been dangling since season 2 are finally hooked back in. That episode aired with enough fanfare that even casual viewers noticed the tonal shift: this wasn’t a dream-sequence or an alternate timeline device, it was the story moving forward with her included. Beyond the episode, the creative team reinforced the canonical status very quickly. The showrunner clarified things in an interview for the companion zine 'Behind the Frames', and a short tie-in novella, 'Echoes of the Past', explicitly ties Rachel’s reappearance into earlier plot mechanics rather than retconning. Together those pieces closed the door on debates about whether she was a retcon or a reality — the narrative architecture was adjusted to incorporate her return, not to gloss it over. What really sold it for me was how later episodes treated the consequences. Relationships and power dynamics shifted, long-ignored clues from season 1 got reinterpreted, and fan theories had to be revised. Seeing that slow ripple — the writers not just waving a character back into frame but reshaping scenes and motivations around her presence — is what made it feel canonical to me. It landed with weight, and I was buzzing about the implications for weeks afterward.

The beauty of 'Nah, I’d Derail Canon' lies in how it flips the script on classic storytelling tropes with a smirk. Instead of the protagonist dutifully following the 'chosen one' arc or playing by the rules of fate, this story revels in chaos—characters actively sabotage their own destinies, mock prophecies, and treat the 'grand narrative' like a sandbox to wreck. It’s not just about breaking the fourth wall; it’s about bulldozing through it with a wink. What really hooks me is how it turns power fantasies on their head. Typical isekai or shonen heroes grind to become unstoppable, but here, the MC’s 'power' is their refusal to play along. Side characters might groan as the plot crumbles, but that’s the joy—it’s a love letter to fans exhausted by predictable arcs. The humor’s sharp, too, poking fun at everything from 'training montages' to 'villain monologues.' It’s like the story’s whispering, 'What if we just… didn’t?' and running with that energy.

The charm of 'Nah, I’d Derail Canon' lies in how it flips expectations on their head. Fans adore stories that challenge the status quo, and this one delivers by taking familiar tropes and twisting them into something fresh. It’s not just about subverting canon for shock value—there’s a cleverness to how it recontextualizes character arcs and plot points, making old narratives feel new again. What really hooks people is the emotional payoff. When a story boldly goes off the rails but still respects the heart of the original work, it creates this exhilarating sense of unpredictability. You’re never quite sure where it’s headed, but you trust the journey. Plus, the community around it thrives on dissecting every twist, which adds another layer of fun.

Counting up Andromeda Tonks' connections in the canon feels like untangling a stubborn little knot of family pride, quiet rebellion, and real maternal warmth. At the center is her immediate Black family: she is the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, which sets up one of the sharpest contrasts in the series. Bellatrix is fanatically loyal to Voldemort and the pure-blood ideology, and that hostility toward Andromeda’s marriage is explicit and poisonous; Narcissa is more complicated, tied to family expectations but ultimately capable of compassion in her own way. The Black tapestry and the whole idea of 'always' pure-blood superiority make Andromeda’s choice to wed Ted Tonks an act of social exile — she’s literally disowned for love, and that shapes how she relates to the rest of her kin. Beyond the Black household, her marriage to Ted Tonks and her role as the mother of Nymphadora Tonks are what define her most warmly in the books. Ted is the reason she’s estranged from the Blacks, and Nymphadora’s presence in the Order and her friendship with people like the Weasleys and Remus Lupin creates a whole network around Andromeda. In 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' Andromeda shows up at Shell Cottage and later becomes Teddy Lupin’s guardian after the Battle of Hogwarts; that grandmotherly bond is tender and canonical — she’s the family anchor for the next generation. Then there’s Sirius Black: he’s a cousin who shares her disgust for the worst parts of the family’s ideology, but both he and Andromeda suffer from family fracture and exile in different ways. There are also ties, quieter but meaningful, to people like Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Weasleys, Bill and Fleur — those friendships and alliances are part of what lets Andromeda live a decent life removed from pure-blood fanaticism. For me, her relationships are a small, compassionate counterpoint to the big, ugly loyalties in the series, and I always end up rooting for her steady, stubborn kindness.

Nothing gets me hyped faster than picturing Erza switching forms and turning a fight on its head. In canon, the armor that fans always point to first is the 'Heaven's Wheel Armor' — it’s her go-to for overwhelming offense, throwing swarms of swords and creating layered attacks that can cover every angle. I think of it as her signature all-purpose killer: great for fights where she needs to control space and keep enemies from regrouping. Beyond that, her heavy defensive sets are just as important. The big, tanky armors—often referred to by fans as variations of an 'Adamantine' or near-unbreakable armor—come out when Erza needs to absorb punishment and protect allies. Then there are the mobility and specialty armors (the flight/wing types or elemental-themed sets) she uses for niche counters: speed, ranged combat, or against magic-specific threats. Context matters: the strongest armor in one fight isn’t always the best in another. For me, the thrill is watching her read a battle and pick the perfect suit, which still gives me chills whenever I rewatch 'Fairy Tail'.

Man, I love diving into 'Naruto' lore! The idea of Mikoto and Tsunade being pregnant in a canon story sounds wild, but nope, that’s definitely not part of the official timeline. Mikoto, Sasuke’s mom, died during the Uchiha massacre long before any pregnancy plot could happen, and Tsunade’s character arc never included motherhood in the manga or anime. Fanfics and doujinshi love exploring 'what if' scenarios like this, though—some are super creative! I’ve stumbled across a few that imagine Mikoto surviving or Tsunade having a kid, but Kishimoto never went there. The closest we got to pregnancy drama in canon was Kushina’s story with Naruto. Still, it’s fun to speculate. Fanworks can flesh out characters in ways the original didn’t, and I’ve read some heartfelt ones about Mikoto’s potential as a mom. But if you’re hunting for canon material, this one’s pure fiction. The 'Naruto' universe has enough untold stories to keep fans theorizing forever, even if this particular one isn’t real.

I fell down a Regulus spiral the first time I read about him in 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'—there's something quietly heroic and tragic about his whole arc. Regulus Arcturus Black was the younger brother in the Black family, born into that old, proud pure-blood tradition that valued blood status above everything. He went to Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin, and at some point in his youth he joined the Death Eaters, convinced by family loyalty and the heady power of belonging to Voldemort's inner circle. The turning point, canonically, is when Regulus discovered that Voldemort had made a Horcrux out of Slytherin's locket. Horrified at what Voldemort had become and how he was being used, Regulus used Kreacher—the house-elf he treated badly and later showed a surprising streak of compassion toward—to help him stealthily retrieve the locket from the cave where Voldemort hid it. He forced Kreacher to help him because Kreacher could obey orders Voldemort's protections would ignore. Regulus drank the basin potion that protected the Horcrux and was weakened; he ordered Kreacher to take the locket back to their family home. Before Kreacher fled, Regulus managed to swap the real locket with a fake and scrawled the initials 'R.A.B.' in it, intending for someone to know what he had done. Sadly, Regulus never made it out alive. The cave was defended by Inferi, and when Regulus commanded Kreacher to go, he was left behind and died there, probably pulled under by the Inferi. His bravery only came to light years later through Kreacher's memories and the discoveries in 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' and 'Deathly Hallows', which set Harry and co. on the path to finding the Horcruxes. To me, Regulus is one of the quietest redemption stories in the series: he started on the wrong side, but when it mattered he acted—and paid the ultimate price. It always leaves me a little bittersweet when I think about him in Grimmauld Place, and how small acts of conscience can ripple into something huge.