#and this moment is so much more than kendall being cruel or than kendall being loving

[somehow-furious]

what did you think about the kendall/roman hug? Was it kendall completing the logan transformation and physically abusing roman or was it roman self-inflicting pain onto himself?

porque no los dos? no but literally where's that post about how it's them tearing open the father wound... like i fully thought ken was pulling him in for a hug and the realisation that he was actually pressing roman's wound to his shoulder had me watching like 😟😯

the hug, to me, is the answer to roman's "why isn't it me?" it's kendall saying: because i can do this to you. because you want me to do this to you. like !!! it's kendall hurting roman and roman saying so but still asking for more. still clinging to it. he makes no active effort to pull away. in fact, he actively grinds his head in harder. roman wants the pain and kendall wants to hurt him but it's an act of comfort, too. a sicko scene for the ages. 10/10

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Giving Them The Silent Treatment

Requested: hi hi! I've been loving succession, I think Tom and Kendall are my favorite characters <3 Could I request a preference for the siblings (+ Tom or Greg if you're comfortable, totally understand if you don't wanna add them) making it up to their S/O after an argument? Maybe their S/O has given them the silent treatment and they wanna fix things?? Or something like that, it's totally up to you <3 - @meltingsandwhich

A/N: Shai!!!! I love this idea!!!! Thank you for requesting!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Connor would want to rip his hair out. The thought of you being angry and hurt enough to give him the silent treatment kills him. Forgotten and ignored as a child, the silent treatment doesn't sit well with him. It reminds him too much of his father, ripping open old wounds. He gives you the space you need, but eventually it becomes too much. He has to talk to you and he needs you to talk to him, to acknowledge him. He apologizes profusely, desperately, the people pleaser in him coming to life. You're still upset, but you realize immediately what you've done. You did what Logan has been doing to him his entire life. You apologize, too, putting into words why you were so upset. Your relationship isn't perfect, especially after a fight, but you know you cannot do that to him again. You have to talk it out, you have to address things, you have to break the cycle. Connor is more than happy to do so, hating the long stretch of silence.

Kendall, I think, would be just as petty at first. When you stare at him, mouth closed, anger radiating out of you, he realizes what you're doing and tries to beat you at your own game. He can only last a few minutes before his own insecurities devour him. Why aren't you talking to him? Is it over? Did one fight murder your whole relationship? He can't listen to the quiet anymore, finding any way to fill it. He screams and yells and begs, but you're stubborn. One too many times he has broken his promise to you, he has broken your heart. As far as you're concerned he deserves to suffer. You want him to. Not forever, not forever, but in this moment? It's all you want. He kicks furniture and makes a mess, yelling, angry, hurt. You can't keep it in anymore and you stat yelling, crying, telling him all your pain. Everything he's put you through. He promises to do better, to be better, that this will never happen again. You're not sure if you believe him. You're not sure you'll ever believe him again.

Shiv sorta pretends nothing happened. She asks you if you want to order in for dinner after a few days of not speaking. You can't believe it. It makes you even angrier, causing you to give her the silent treatment. By not speaking, you're forcing her to address it. You just stare at her as she goes through the drawer of menus. What? Are you seriously still mad? This frustrates her, causing her to become defensive. You're being irrational. You're being insecure. Funny, you say, you're starting to sound like your father. That hits hard. The fights you have are volatile and downright cruel. Afterwards you have to nurse your wounds, you take a few days, before going to one another. There isn't necessarily an apology spoken from either of you, but it's as close as you're going to get. You go back to normal after that. You're sure one of your fights will be the downfall of your relationship one day, but that day isn't this one. You know Shiv doesn't mean it, and neither do you, it's just the kind of thing you were raised to do: go for the throat.

Roman feels incredibly anxious when you give him the silent treatment. He can't stand it. He tries to fill the silence with jokes, but it doesn't work. His one defense mechanism isn't working nor is it appropriate. When is it ever? You break him down with your blank stare. He feels jittery and nervous and nauseous. Finally, he asks you what's wrong. Is this about our fight? Fuckin- seriously? He can't believe you're still upset. Of course I am, you say. He senses your frustration and he braces for the worst, flinching when you step closer. You explain to him, yet again, that though you're upset, you would never dare hurt him. He kinda wishes you would, at least then it would be all over and you wouldn't have to talk about it. You don't care that it makes him uncomfortable, you don't care if he squirms the whole time, you are going to address what's wrong in your relationship. He's not sure where to start, relying on you. You make up by talking it out in a serious manner, so that he understands.

Bonus! Tom is a big gift giver after an argument. Though he didn't grow up with money, he's quickly learned that if you throw enough of it at a problem, it'll go away. He knows you typically get quiet after a fight so he lets you be. In the morning he'll have something expensive and thoughtless wrapped up in a bow. You've learned that there's typically a double meaning to what he gets you and it often leaves you more hurt than you already were. You don't want something that cost a lot of money, you don't want something wrapped in a bow, presented to you like it's a million fucking dollars, you want him to change. You want to stop having the same arguments over and over again because, though he promises you he'll be better, he never is. That's what you want. You know if you said this though, it would fly right over his head. He doesn't want to change. He likes himself just the way he is. That's what you can't stand, that's why you go silent.

Bonus! Greg is pretty much oblivious to your silent treatment. He thinks, after your fight, which is less of a fight and more like a tense conversation when it comes to Greg, that everything is cool. Everything is going to go back to normal. He comes home after work talking about how Rome punched him in the arm and he thinks he's getting somewhere with Mencken when you ignore him. Sore throat? Are you coming down with something? No Greg, you say, frustrated, you're still mad at him. Oh. He didn't think you would be. He thought you got all you needed out when you were talking to him. You have to explain that the conversation you were having was actually a fight, that he participated in it, and he said some pretty hurtful things. Oh. He apologizes, but there's always a "but" in there with an excuse. That's what you're talking about. He's learned from the best at Waystar how not to take accountability.

[from-the-clouds]

Randomly had a mental breakdown in the car with my friends last night and today I'm thinking abt how professor!Kendall would react if that happened while you two were hanging out or whatever. Like you're grading papers/helping out and you've been stressed and you just kind of crack and he doesn't say anything, gets up, dims the lights in his office and moves his chair a little closer to you, puts his hand on the small of your back gently. He's there if you want to talk to him but he doesn't want to force you to. He just cares about you - far more than he'd like to admit, honestly - and he wants to make sure you're okay.

okay so like. i'm obsessed with this and i ended up writing a little blurb about this. also, i hope you are feeling better from your mental breakdown. i've def been there so i feel you!

All you have to do is get through this next hour.

You're hunched over the desk, trying to focus on the essay in front of you. Every so often, tears blur your vision, the words on the pages becoming fuzzy. You've read the same sentence several times over, comprehending none of the words as you try to will yourself into composure.

You're not sure what it is. It could be the immense amount of pressure you're under -- between school and extracurriculars and work. Maybe your period is coming or something, maybe it's that boy who ghosted you last week. Maybe it's the fact that you just feel like you don't know what the fuck you're doing with your life. It doesn't matter what the cause is, you feel something dark crawling around inside you, and sooner or later, it's going to come out. You just pray you can make it home before that happens.

Next to you, your professor snorts, you hear him scribble something down in the margins of the paper he's grading. He's the reason why you're so hellbent on not losing it. Of course, you wouldn't want to cry in front of any of your professors, but you definitely don't want to cry in front of Dr. Roy. He'd be the worst option of them all.

He asks you a question, but you're so lost in thought, you don't hear it.

"What?" you ask, looking over at him. He glances at you over the rim of his glasses.

"Are you almost done with those?"

"Oh, yeah," you look down at the stack. "Uh, yeah. Almost."

"Well, hurry up," he says. "I have a meeting later and I'd like to get this finished before that."

You nod and return back to your work, feeling his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than normal. He's not being cruel, you know that he's just stern by nature, the comment still upsets you in your already fragile state.

You've taken several classes with him, and now work as his TA, so you've grown pretty familiar in that time. Not to mention that you've had a pitiful crush on him since the first second you stepped into his classroom. You're still not sure if he knows. Sometimes, there's a gleam in his eye -- he'll touch your knee or squeeze your shoulder and give you a knowing smirk. It's hard to tell if he's flirting or just being polite. In the times you have tried to reciprocate, he always pushes you away. There's something you find thrilling in that uncertainty. It’s also equally terrifying. Does he really care about you at all, or are you just another student who will be forgotten by next semester?

Thinking about it too much makes the tears well up in your eyes again, and before you can will them away, some of them escape and land on the paper in front of you. You subtly swipe them away, but all it does is smear the ink and leave an even more noticeable mark behind. Quickly, you move the paper the the back of the stack before passing them over, and pray that he doesn't notice.

He says your name, and you turn to look at him.

"What is this?" he asks, pointing to the paper in front of him. You peer closer. "You need to write more legibly, this is incredibly sloppy work."

"Sorry," you say, looking down as more tears threaten to spill. "I will."

"Hey," he says, voice firm. "Look at me when I talk to you."

Very tentatively, you turn towards him, hoping the tears will evaporate in the time it takes, but they don't. He's leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, gearing up for a lecture on taking your job seriously, no doubt. "I'm sorry. I'll do better, Dr. Roy."

He sees your face, hears the way your voice cracks on the last syllable, and immediately his brows crease, face falling. "Are you alright?"

Unable to hold back anymore, you shake your head and bury your face in your hands, hiding from him. You expect some sort of lecture about how you need to be less sensitive to his feedback, but it never comes.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"It's not you," you mutter, feeling something hot and awful cutting off the air in the back of your throat. Then you choke out a sob.

He sighs softly, his chair creaks. You notice the lights in the room go dim, and he returns to you, pulling his chair a bit closer before sitting down. A warm hand lands between your shoulder-blades.

"What’s going on?"

"I-I don't know," you mumble. "It's....it's everything."

He rubs his hand back and forth soothingly, waiting for you to speak, but you don't trust yourself to do it without sobbing uncontrollably. You’re already embarrassed enough this is happening in front of him. So instead, you pitch forward, forehead landing on his knee, seeking comfort and desperate to be closer to him.

When you can't continue, can't elaborate because of how hard you're crying, he speaks again. "It's okay," he says softly. "You're going to be okay."

You shake your head no, unconvinced, staring down at his brown leather oxfords, the tears that are landing on the floor.

"Yes, you are, honey," you assures you, and you ignore the way the term of endearment makes you feel -- hot, and unsettled by how much you like it. "You are. You're just figuring it out."

Both his hands find your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly, and as you finally feel yourself capable of breathing again, you reach up to weakly clutch at one of them, his fingers intertwining with your own.

"Deep breaths, okay?" he says, and you take in a deep inhale. He repeats himself. "You're going to be okay."

You can feel the heat of his body close to yours. He seems so sure of what he's saying, deep voice right in your ear. Somehow, his proximity alone is working, you feel the tension melting away as he continues to murmur to you affirmatively, hands working out the knots in your shoulders. Instinctually, you move closer to him. Even if the two of you never come back from this, you decide you don't care.

[tomfoolies]

hi future me this is a free pass to answer all the questions you want to >:))

hi past me, thank you for this opportunity >:))

Cruel Summer: Was there anything that stopped you from shipping with your f/o at first or was it love at first sight? Are things more complicated than they appear?

> FUN FACT: i remember watching the s1 finale for the first time and when kendall was going through it for a second i was like "hm. that's awful. that's so good. maybe he will be my guy...." which IS WILD. HE WAS NOT MY GUY.

i'd found tom handsome and interesting as a character but like, he didn't really become important to me until like. season 2 finale. i recall very vividly suddenly feeling Something over his struggles, and it kinda brought him to my mental spotlight so to speak. and then i started to look out for him and it kinda spiraled from there... so it wasn't love at first sight, i think that i had to see his development and the way the story and events began to affect him to start catching feelings. and it caused it to be a bit of a slow burn to me (if you can count a WEEK-ISH a slow burn LMAOOOO). but once he stepped into my noggin he has not left since <3

The Man: What strengthens your f/o in your opinion? What do they believe strengthens you?

> i'd call it his adaptability. being able to take blows while pretending that things don't faze you and fawning and groveling but also holding all the grudges and shittalking when the others aren't around. i love that one description of him that is something like "he's adapted himself to the conditions perfectly" and i'm just like. yeah....... i know..... :') like that is such a "good" skill (as in i wish it wasn't good but it totally is), i relate to it A LOT and i feel like it really carries him.

as for me, sort of a total opposite, he thinks what strengthens me are my sincerity and that certain kind of earnestness i just CANNOT stop expressing no matter how hard i try to appear nonchalant. i have strong emotions about things and more often than not i will make that clear. often it also means i'm very dead-set on things and my opinion cannot be very easily changed. but he thinks that it's really admirable.

Death By A Thousand Cuts: How do you and your f/o handle bad times/how are you there for each other when life gets rough?

> i'd say prior to the cruise drama, we would seek out reassurance but without really getting too deeply into what it is that is bothering us. we would be there for the other physically, maybe say some generic reassuring BUT still sincere things. it wouldn't really be until we have to sit down and talk everything out around s3 that we would dare to like. properly express our worries and truly tell the other what's actually the problem. no longer hiding the real issue. we'd become more honest and communicate much better. i think the biggest thing that'd help us would be to just. unconditionally accept the other's thoughts and feelings and not judge them. making each other feel safe without the fear of a negative reaction or a downplay of the other's emotions. little things like that <3 and handling the humiliation of being vulnerable by being vulnerable together, an even exchange if you will....

False God: Do you think of you and your f/o as soulmates? Why or why not?

> secretly, YES. not sure we'd ever admit it to each other because while we are silly romantics, that might be A BIT too much. especially on my end, i wouldn't dare to say it out loud. but we'd both have moments where we'd realise we're totally meant for each other on a soulmate kinda level <3333

[theghostofloganroy]

Do you think there was any way Logan could have had a romantic relationship that lasted for good? Or was he always too cagey, selfish, and closed off to ever open up enough? He and Marcia had their sweet and intimate moments early on, but he couldn’t even sustain that. Who knows how long he and Kerry would have lasted had he lived longer. Are the kids too much the loves of his life for him to have a lasting romance?

No not exactly I think for Logan to have a lasting romantic relationship would mean he would have to do a complete reversal of how he views woman, in many ways he was kind of like a five year old boy, you know they've got their one favourite toy but they will play with other toys some longer than others but as it is not their favourite they tend to get bored so eventually they get bored and they disregard it after a period of time. Also for any female partner of Logan's for there to have been a lasting relationship I think it would have meant allowing Logan do whatever he wanted whenever he liked and not questioning it, they would have had to become a doormat which is cruel and unreasonable to expect that of any person.

I don't know how long he and Kerry would have lasted, the man was over 80 and in pretty poor health (each day was honestly a gift to that man) but would have depended on many different factors.

I don't know how to factor the kids into it but I'll try. To answer that part probably yes, I don't think the kids in their entirety were the loves of his life, he loved them, I wrote a post early about Kendall being the love of his life but he certainly loved his children more than his partners mainly because he saw them as extensions of himself but even if he didn't have any children I don't necessarily think he would have been able to maintain a romantic relationship due to his mindset and how he views woman which is very much, the relationship lasts depending on how useful they are to him.

[swamp-cats-den]

Watching Season 1 of Succession made me think of how small details shape our opinion on characters so much more than any grand event, be it an act of heroism or a terrible crime.

I despised Roman for the scene in the Pilot episode where he taunted the little kid with the possibility of getting a million dollars should he win the game, and then gleefully tearing up the check right in front of his face after he failed. Roman being a controlling asshole to his wife (or girlfriend, didn't quite catch that) and a cruel jerk to the guy she flirted with only solidified my attitude. Later on, there were many moments supposed to make me feel bad for him. And they did, they really did, the writing is just that good, but I still couldn't get rid of my hostility towards this character.

On the other hand, I couldn't bring myself to hate Kendall after he crashed the car with the poor waiter and covered up his death. I was already too invested in the character at that point simply because him desperately trying to gain the unattainable approval from his dad hit the right spot for me.

And while Succession is pretty down to earth, it also reminded me of one more reason why people love villians from the more outlandish stories, such as sci-fi films or superhero franchises. A popular criticism is 'how can you be a fan of the character if they've killed so many people', and, of course, the obvious and the most sensible response would be 'because this is just fiction'. But the other thing is that some planetary scale invasion doesn't let us draw parallels with our own experience so easily, political allegories notwithstanding, while the antagonist being abused by their parents and lashing out is something so many people can immediately relate to. We just latch onto certain moments because they pull the right strings or hit close to home.

Going back to Succession, after all, Roman's petty cruelty and Kendall's faux personable attitude towards common folks are not that different, both brothers end up fucking them over, but the little details in the script make me feel hostile to one and attached to the other.

(upd: After Season 2, I actually like Roman as well!)

[hageny]

Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

1. The Taste of Blood.

With episode four set to premiere tonight, a lot of the fandom is wondering just how Gerri and Roman’s relationship will be impacted by the introduction of Laurie. Will we see Laurie; will Gerri go on more than one date; is she truly interested in him or using him (we likely all know the answer here); what does he look like? The list goes on. But in the shadows of this problem--a decent-sized one but surely not a huge problem--is a much larger issue that the show is already foreshadowing, and has done so since the first episode of the season. And that is the problem of what happens to Roman and Gerri when they get caught. Because if we’re all honest, we know they will be caught. It’s the one thing the two of them haven’t considered, but which poses a much larger threat than a third person (i.e. Laurie) entering their sphere. We see Shiv’s hunch in episode two when she and Roman are arguing over Gerri being put in as CEO: “You can’t hide under the covers with mommy [...] Oh you love showing your pee-pee to everyone but someday, you know, you’re actually gonna have to fuck something.” We see it in the first episode of the season, with Shiv casting curious glances between Gerri and Roman while Gerri is on the phone trying to gauge how much control over the cruises situation Waystar still has. We see it in the scene above with Logan, who, when Roman gives a not-so-convincing excuse about “running numbers” with Gerri late at night, gives his son a silent, curious gaze before saying anything else. And in this scene, with Logan showing up to the office late into the night for seemingly no real reason, there is a possible--but troublesome--situation at play. While it’s not confirmed, and I’m just hypothesizing, with Shiv and her father so far standing on the same side--and Logan having told Shiv Gerri is nothing but a puppet and placeholder in Waystar--would it be pertinent to wonder if the person who tipped Logan off to what Roman and Gerri were doing was Shiv? Shiv is the same person who drafted the memo about Kendall in the last episode, a memo so cruel both Connor and Roman refused to sign it. Her disregard for others seemingly knows no bounds, and if she could displace both her brother and Gerri in one fell swoop, well who’s to say she wouldn’t gladly take the opportunity? While Gerri has managed to elevate herself to the top of the company, we know--and hopefully she does--that the peak of the mountain is the most dangerous place, and the contempt for her is already starting to pierce her formidable position of power. Those she once saw as allies--Frank and Karl--treat her with a disrespect they haven’t before; Shiv is contemptuous as always, and delighted with the idea that Logan is only using Gerri until she can take what she believes is her rightful place. In a world like the one these characters occupy, the contempt is a natural thing; Logan has run Waystar single-handedly for decades, and accepting new leadership of any kind is a problem. No one will be easily accepted as leader. (Some have made the argument that the disrespect toward Gerri is because she is a woman, but this is a lazy argument, and an incorrect one). But with the tension rising, and Gerri having no one to lean on but Roman, the danger that they will be caught is growing, and the cost of separating them greater now than before. Emotionally, they’re in deep; professionally, they need each other. So of course, it is only a matter of time before Logan catches them in an uncompromising, not-so-professional situation. So far, Roman has managed to slither away from the suspicion, but he’s not a good enough liar to manipulate his father, and if the scene above is any indicator, Logan already has a hunch--he’s just waiting for the perfect moment is catch them. This raises another, equally interesting question: when he does, what will Roman and Gerri do? Will they go out holding hands, or turn on one another to survive? 

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Fracture (King Liam x MC)

Summary:  Inspired by this post from @ao719 and set immediately after TRH Book 2, chapter 1. The King and Queen have their first major blow up.

A/N: This was hard for me because I see both of their sides so perfectly, and I adore Liam so being mad at him, even fictionally is a challenge for me, lol

Tags: @senseofduties @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @badchoicesposts @drakewalker04 @canknot @sirbeepsalot @hopefulmoonobject @eadanga @texaskitten30 @the-unconquered-queen @flyawayboo @aestheticartwriting

~~

The air in the parlor is practically crackling with energy as Queen Kendall glares at her husband. There’s way too many emotions swirling around right now—anger, joy, confusion, relief, fear—and she can’t seem to get a firm grasp on them.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of her life, of their life, but it’s not. Liam just agreed to give their baby away.

He waits on baited breath as she finds the words to respond to him. To say Liam is nervous is an understatement. Anxiety is a cruel mistress and she has a firm grip on his throat.

“You did what?”

“I agreed to their terms for an alliance.”

“How dare you? You married our daughter off and she’s not even a full day old yet!”

“Kendall, you have to–”

“I don’t have to do a damn thing!” Kendall hisses. “You caved! We’ve been working on ways to subdue them and keep them at bay for months, and you give in to their whims like that?” She snaps for added effect. 

The heartbreak is the worst. Not once in their relationship has never done something like this without telling her. She never thought she’d experience a betrayal, from him of all people, on this level. “You made a monumental decision that affects not just us, but our daughter. Our home! Our country! And you did it unilaterally. What happened to us being a team?”

“It wasn’t an easy choice to make, and I didn’t take it lightly.”

“My daughter is not a commodity to be sold off to the highest bidder, Liam.”

Liam reaches out to touch Kendall, but she recoils from him. The act makes his heart shatter in his chest. “My love, please understand. There was no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice,” Kendall argues, a bite in her tone that Liam isn’t used to. “You’ve opened the floodgates now. We gave into their demands, with no security on our side and nothing in return. Cordonia loses! And now that they have the upper hand, who’s to say they won’t come back with more demands?”

“They won’t.”

“Oh, because Bradshaw and Isabella are paragons of integrity?”

“I’m sorry,” Liam says. “I did what I thought was best.”

Kendall ignores his apology, biting down on her tongue so she doesn’t say anything she’ll later regret. Instead she looks down at Eleanor, her precious baby girl. A baby whose future is already set in stone, bound to a stranger in a foreign land, not someone she meets and falls in love with organically. It’s not the life she deserves. A tear rolls down her cheek, mourning the life she envisioned for their baby girl.

“You fought so hard to marry me,” Kendall says softly. Her voice cracks slightly and Liam feels even worse than he did. “You were determined to be with me, because we were in love, and you couldn’t live a lie. You couldn’t just marry for duty once you discovered that true existed. You said I changed your life.”

“You did,” Liam insists. “Kendall, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then how, after going through what we’ve gone through, after experiencing true love, how could you marry Eleanor off? How could you rob her of the opportunity?” Kendall implores. “After seeing how upset and betrayed Olivia felt after she found out her parents married her to someone as awful to Anton, you turn around and do the exact same thing.”

Liam struggles to find the words. He wants to explain himself, he wants Kendall to see that he only had them in mind.

“I did this for you, my queen. I did it for both of you.”

Kendall shakes her head, refusing to listen. “You let them leverage me, like my life and Eleanor’s life are nothing more than bartering tools. I was scared and vulnerable, and you let them manipulate that.”

She sighs an exhausted sigh. Between finding out Godfrey murdered her mother-in-law, being trapped in the palace like a hostage, going into labor and nearly dying, and now this, she’s drained.

Kendall turns towards Liam and looks him in the eyes. “I’m too tired to continue this conversation, so I’ll end it with this. You’re the fucking king of this country, and you better employ every single drop of power that title has bestowed upon you to fix the mess you put us in, and I don’t give a damn how you do it. Rob, kill and destroy, hell start World War 3 for all I care.”

She stops, contemplating her next words. “Hear me well when I tell you this, Liam. I have endured a lot when it comes to living in this country, being the Queen, and being your wife, but this, I will not stand for. I will burn Auvernal to the ground before I send my daughter there to be a pawn in the game of politics. And if you don’t rectify it, and rectify it soon, I will go to that godforsaken country and split both Bradshaw and Isabella from navel to jugular myself, and I’ll do with a smile on my face.”

A chill runs down Liam’s spine at his wife’s words. He’s never seen her so angry before, it’s downright scary. “I promise you, my queen, I’ll fix it.”

“Good.” She hastily wipes away another tear from her eye. “Can you get Mara or Bastien?”

“Of course. What’s wrong?”

“I want to go to our chambers and I’m going to need some assistance getting there.”

“Nonsense, I can help you with that, darling.”

Kendall lifts herself off of the couch and immediately grabs the arm with one hand to steady herself. She wobbles a bit, slightly dizzy and Liam places a hand on her back. 

This was supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be happy together. But in this moment, Kendall can hardly stand her husband’s presence. “If I wanted you to escort me, I would’ve asked you.”

He falters, taken aback at the harshness. He’s never seen this side of Kendall. But he can’t blame her. He deserves it. “Very well. I’ll call Mara for you.”

~V~

Liam anxiously paces back and forth in the palace suite. Kendall’s been in labor for almost six hours, floating in and out of consciousness.

Drake runs a hand through his hair and huffs. “I can’t stand here anymore, I’m going to go help Olivia and Mara break down those doors.”

“I’m sure there’s a battering ram in this palace somewhere,” Maxwell muses silently.

But Liam just ignores them. He goes back to Kendall’s side and presses a kiss to her head, whispering calming words in her ear.

“You’re doing so amazing,” he tells her. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

“Liam, I can't do this anymore,” Kendall says with a whimper.

“Yes, you can. You’re so strong, you’re almost there.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know.” Liam runs a hand through her hair, uncaring that it’s damp with sweat. “I just need you to stay up with me. Can you do that?”

She goes quiet for a long while and Liam stiffens. Finally she responds with, “I’ll try.”

“And you’ll succeed. Because I love you so much, and we’re just now starting our lives together. We’re so close to our happily ever after.”

Kendall leans in to his touch and closes her eyes again. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you and our baby so much.”

“I love you too.”

When silence fills the room again Liam looks down and sees Kendall has gone under again. “Kendall.” He shakes her shoulder to no response. “Kendall, wake up, baby. Wake up.”

His blood runs cold and again shakes her, much more forcefully, but her body is limp under him. His fingers slide to her neck, checking for a pulse. When he can’t find one, that’s when he flips. “KENDALL!”

Liam awakes with a start, cold sweat dripping down his forehead, heart beating wildly in his chest and his breathing erratic.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he struggles to calm down. He takes a moment to survey his surroundings, quickly realizing that he’s not in his bedroom, but in one of the spare bedrooms of his private quarters. Kendall is noticeably absent, the left side of the bed is cold and empty.

The dream—nightmare—was too realistic. Was it even a dream at all? Or was it actually a vivid memory?

On wobbly feet, he jumps up and rushes towards out of the room. He stumbles through the long hallway until he makes it to their master suite. He throws open the double doors, startling his wife. She’s awake, sitting up in the middle of the bed, baby Nori sleeping soundly in her bassinet beside her.

“Liam, what on earth are you doing?” Kendall looks at the time on the small digital clock on their bedside table. It’s almost noon, the arrival of their baby girl completely throwing off their concept of time.

He doesn’t say anything, he just rushes over to her and sweeps her in his arms. Kendall can feel his heart beating fast against her own, and every muscle in his body is stiff.

He holds her tightly against him for a long time, refusing to let go, afraid of what might happen if he did. Images of cold and lifeless form still cloud his mind.  “You’re alive.”

“Of course I’m alive.” Liam releases her from the vice-like grip she’s in, and that’s when she notices that his eyes are bloodshot and there are tears streaming down his cheek. 

Now she’s alarmed. Always one to remain calm and composed, Liam hardly ever cries.

“Liam, what’s wrong?”

Liam shrugs off the question. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I just needed to check on you.”

“You burst in here like a bat out of hell,” Kendall deadpans. “And you’re crying. Talk to me.”

“I just had a nightmare,” he confesses quietly, peering into the bassinet to get a look at his daughter. Not wanting to disrupt her too much, he runs a finger through her curly hair. She moves slightly, but doesn’t wake fully. “You were in labor, and you just kept passing out. And you were so...pale and weak. And I was trying to keep you conscious, but eventually you just closed your eyes. You closed them and they never opened again.” A strangled sob burst from his chest and he tries to clamp down on it in vain, but it comes forth anyway. His entire body shakes as the weight of everything crashes down on him. “You died.”

After hesitating for a moment, Kendall wraps her arms around her husband. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his tears hitting her skin.

“Well that didn’t happen,” Kendall declares stubbornly. “I’m right here.”

“B-but it could’ve happened,” Liam argues, his voice muffled. After a few more seconds, he removes himself from Kendall’s embrace. He stands, drawing himself to full height and closes his eyes. “There was so much going on last night. I had just found out one of my father’s closest friends and advisors, one of my trusted advisors...mur–” he chokes on the word, shuddering as he spits it out, “murdered my mother. My pregnant mother. And there’s absolutely no time to process it because you went into labor, and there were so many complications.”

“Kendall, I don’t think you understand just how close you were to dying. How close I was to losing you. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, and just last week we had that car accident and–” Liam pauses. He drops to his knees and looks up at his wife, eyes still glossy with unshed tears. “I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. The Auvernese guards had the weaponry to break down the barriers, and I was willing to do anything in my power to get Dr. Ramirez to you. It was a terrible decision, but you were mere minutes away from going into full blown eclampsia and dying and I couldn’t let that happen, not when there was a solution in front of me.”

“Yes, Isabella and Bradshaw are horrible people for dangling your lives above my head, but you’re alive. Our daughter is alive. You have every right to be mad at me, but as long as there is breath in your body, I am at peace. I would make a deal with the Devil himself if it meant you and Eleanor were safe. I apologize for betraying you, but I can’t apologize for doing what I did to keep you alive.”

A tear falls from Kendall’s eye and she wipes it with the back of her hand. She didn’t even realize she was crying. 

Hearing Liam explain himself forced her to look at things from his perspective. It was a shitty situation all around, and he was cornered in a time of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry for lashing out at you earlier,” she whispers. “I’m just feeling a lot of feelings right now, and I got really scared on top of being incredibly hormonal, but you didn’t deserve that.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t,” Kendall insists. “I didn’t put myself in your shoes. And if it was your life on the line, I would’ve walked through the pits of Hell for you and our baby.”

The King releases a sigh of relief and his head falls forward. Kendall’s fingers graze his scalp, massaging away some of tension. 

“What did I do to deserve a Queen as amazing as you?” Liam muses. He takes Kendall’s free hand and presses it to his lips. 

“I don’t know.” She takes her hands and cradles Liam’s face, forcing him to look at her. “But my forgiveness has its limits. Don’t you ever, ever do something like this again. You’re not Constantine, and I’m not any of his wives. I will never be kept out of the loop. We do things together, 100 percent equal at all times.”

“Yes, my queen.”

She leans forward and presses their lips together in a kiss that’s over far too soon for Liam’s liking. “We’ll figure this Auvernal thing out together, like we always do. And they’re going to regret the day they ever decided to go against Kendall and Liam.”

Liam nods and wraps his arms around Kendall again. And for the first time in over 24 hours, he feels like he can breathe.

[fullregalia]

chef’s kiss (from daddy).

Like a sad sack Kendall jonesing for something better than park coke, I am already missing the presence of Succession in my life and so blogging and discovering the Vanity Fair podcast will have to stave off my season finale withdrawal. Upon listening to Slate Money’s Succession podcast season finale episode with guest Tamar Adler, I felt like I wanted to think more about the role of food in the show in general. “Thank you for the chicken” may just be the most iconic Tom Wambsgans line Succession has had so far, and there are so many (uncut) gems to choose from (“Just checking the till here, Mark, and it seems you're short a few million,” and who could forget this poetry: “king of edible leaves--his majesty, the spinach.”) The way the show traffics in excess, while also showing us how the Roys eat, but are never truly nourished, is a fascinating lens through which to see how these characters live. [Ed. note: I started writing this all the way back in October, and got sidetracked with school--in the interim, Eater published a great article ranking the dinner scenes in the show.]

If you were to ask me what the stand out food scene in season one is, I’d immediately answer Tom and Greg’s dinner with the ortolan course. It’s such a nouveau riche flex (but maybe it’s an old money flex too? I don’t hang out with ortolan eaters of any socioeconomic status!) and a silly one at that, but it’s fitting that Tom and Greg--of “you can’t make a Tomlette without breaking some Greggs” fame--are the ones to make a big deal over an elaborate dinner, because they’re the outsiders. While many of the show’s episodes are centered on a grand meal as set piece, it shows how commonplace formal, catered dinners are for the Roys. When you’re a billionaire, going out to dinner is probably more of a nuisance if you could just eat something decadent prepared for you in your own home.

By season two, it’s almost as if every episode plays some sort of food-as-metaphor role as the grand meals function as plot points more frequently. From episode one, “Summer Palace,” we start off with Logan trashing an entire seafood feast to order a bunch of pizzas (that don’t even get touched) at their Hamptons house. To the Roys, this kind of waste doesn’t upset anyone, and what’s even more interesting is Logan is totally fine with the idea of ordering pizzas. This weird highbrow/lowbrow liminal space that the Roys occupy is so fascinating to me. Billionaires are out of touch and weird, sure, but they act so artificially chummy, like the way Nan Pierce presents herself, for instance. While rationally I understand Logan demanding that his staff order a bunch of pizzas, I also cannot imagine a billionaire being like, “order a bunch of pizza instead of this lobster!!” (Clearly this is a bit of shades of Warren Buffet garbage palate happening here, billionaires: they’re just like us! #wealthtax.) 

But Logan is in no mood to waste neither food nor time in episode three, when they all go hunting and we are introduced to the world’s most insane Exterminating Angel cosplay also known as Boar! On! The! Floor! (!!!) No sausage gets left behind as this dinner party devolves into yet another opportunity for Logan to humiliate and belittle his family and colleagues. As Troy Patterson notes of Logan Roy, he’s carnivorous in every way. Lest you forget, though, the Roys love their beverages more than they appreciate food, and in this episode Connor introduces us to hyperdecanting and Logan views Roman out of touch with the common man because he can’t say how much a gallon of milk costs. Another highbrow/lowbrow moment: this season has made the clash of Logan’s upbringing with his children’s lifelong privilege much more of a thematic presence. (Do we think Shiv has ever ordered pizza delivery? She has worked on political campaigns, but strikes me as a “no thanks, I don’t have time for lunch” kind of staffer.)

Food waste runs in the Roy family, it seems. There’s this funny little moment when Roman goes to management training, picks up a sad looking danish, takes a bite, is disgusted, and puts it back. Oh Romulus, you are such a jerk, but I love your weird ways. One of the things I noticed this season about Roman on his “leadership journey” was that he seemed to teetotal more and more--perhaps as a result of witnessing his brother’s substance abuse issues--it seems as though as he becomes increasingly serious about taking over the job of CEO, he’s been drinking more Perrier and green juice.

As the season continues, the meals keep coming: when the Roys dine with the Pierces at Tern Haven, Nan has this bizarre moment of performative hostess mode when she presents a roast her housekeeper made to the guests as her own? It was such a weird scene, and so telling of who Nan Pierce is: she loves to appear as a homespun, generous person, but clearly is not just a “simple billionaire” who gets her hands dirty in the kitchen. The façades continue to crumble as the evening goes on as the Roys snap at one another, though somehow the disastrous dinner isn’t enough to halt the deal from happening (yet). It takes a weekend in Argestes, with lunches not eaten and dinners walked out on, for that deal to fall apart.

While the big set pieces of season two’s grand dinners reveal to us the cruel and illusory tendencies of our characters, the most revealing--and effective--use of food (or lack thereof) was Shiv and Roman’s visit to their mother in “Return.” We know that the younger Roys’ mother is cold, but in this episode we see just how withholding she is. Before we get to Lady Caroline’s, Roman makes a joke about eating muddy trout and filling up on mustard; on the plus side, we have a funny scene at a convenience store with Roman and Shiv looking completely confused by how normal people snack. It’s clear that Caroline does not have a healthy relationship with food--Harriet Walter says that was part of her backstory for the character--and she serves them pigeon with shot and feather not cleaned off. She cannot nourish her children, literally or emotionally. (lol at my *extremely incisive* commentary and psychoanalysis.) Later in the evening, while talking to Kendall in the kitchen, she cannot bring herself to have a heart-to-heart with him. In the New York Times’ review of the episode, Noel Murray says: “That’s one powerful symbol for life as a Roy. One parent hollers for protein. The other serves inedible meat.” These rich kids just can’t catch a break from their parental nightmares!

Succession shows its characters’ damage through their total lack of intimacy or vulnerability. It is not your usual HBO show with gratuitous nudity; besides Roman and Gerri’s .... situation, there’s not really sex on this show. The only way that the Roys derive pleasure is from money and the flashy status symbols that come with it (hello, mega yacht!). The scenes with food become the most emotional because it’s the closest they get to physical or emotional closeness in many ways. But the Roys don’t do emotional closeness; I think one of the cruelest--and funniest--examples of this is when Shiv, Tom, Roman, and Tabitha have dinner together and all Shiv and Roman can do is dunk on Tom for his bad suits (Roman: “You look like a divorce attorney from the Twin Cities,” and: “I’m sorry but like, what the fuck? You look like a Transformer. What’s wrong with your body, man?”).

All this brings me to the denouement of Season 2, in which we also reach the apex of Tom’s frustration with his terrible in-laws mistreatment of him, and the aforementioned “thank you for the chicken” line. First: Logan Roy is out here on a MEGA YACHT eating a chicken wing with some big Ricky Rozay wingstop energy. Second: Tom cannot bring himself to confront Logan, even if he finally vented his frustrations to Shiv; all he can do is stuff his face (it’s not love, Tom!! I learned the hard way!!!) and walk away. Third: all the yacht meal scenes are great--just a complete pile-on of courtiers backstabbing and badmouthing each other (Tom calling Karl a “sausage thief”) with a few genuine moments of emotional honesty. Connor drinks wine at breakfast. Greg, accustomed to quaffing rosé, fears he will be sprinkles on the sundae of a Tom sacrifice. Roman defends Gerri! The look Roman and Kendall exchange when the sacrifice is made. Roman, who is “widely known as a terrible person,” in general becoming the MVP of the latter half of the season, even asks to talk to his siblings “normally.” A request that they summarily mock him for. Succession season finales have major “Water, water, every where / Nor any drop to drink” vibes. 

We end the season with Kendall giving daddy Roy a (Judas) kiss after a figurative last supper on the boat, and what’s next is ripe for further scenes of familial drama. Let’s hope there’s similarly rich protein for us in Season 3, I’m already hungry for more.

[niallsstainedcoffeecup]

First Snow Part 2

Harry returns home from tour and hears shocking news about his best friend Y/N.  One of you lovely people suggested I write a second part to First Snow, so I hope you all enjoy.  Feedback and Requests are welcomed.  Happy Holidays and Lots of Love!

           Harry booked his flight back home, messaging his mother the details.  After a world tour, Harry dreamt about sleeping in his bed.  People chattered among themselves in the crowded airport. One man complained about flying home for the holidays while others cheered with excitement.  Harry plopped down on an uncomfortable plastic airport chair, running a hand through his short brown locks.  Harry slipped in a headphone, eliminating the chaotic airport noise.  Suddenly, the airport restaurant’s clattering, the suitcase wheels squealing on the waxed floors, and the complaining man were drowned out by a soft violin.  Harry closed his bagged green eyes, crossing his arms over his thick white sweater.  Harry’s feet ached from the tight Gucci slippers, but Harry planned to release his feet during the plane ride.  Harry’s mind raced with images of home and people he hoped to see.  Of course, she popped into his mind like a burst of light. Y/N, his best friend, and ex-girlfriend. Harry hoped she’d accept his annual Christmas party invitation.   “Flight 478, Los Angeles to London,” The blonde flight attendant called out. Harry stood up, carrying his leather Gucci bag toward the gate.  Harry couldn’t wait to be home.   *  *  *  *              The cinnamon pinecones washed over Harry’s exhausted figure, reminding him of past Christmases.  Harry’s memories flickered to his favorite one when Harry first kissed Y/N after a snowball fight.  Harry kicked off his slippers, sliding his sweaty feet across the cool cream carpet. Evie’s black and white ears perked up at the clicking of the door’s lock.  Anne argued with someone, probably Gemma, on the telephone, which allowed Harry to sneak up behind her and squeeze his mother. “Gemma, we do not need…” A scream interrupted Anne’s sentence.   Anne spun around, swatting at her son’s arm. Harry giggled, clutching his aching stomach.  Anne glared, apologizing to Gemma for screaming in her ear. “Your brother scared the life out of me. Yes, he made it in.  Okay, I love you.” Anne hung up the phone, hugging Harry with all the power in her arms.  Harry grinned, stealing a warm gingerbread cookie from the snowman jar behind Anne. “How was the tour?” Anne asked, pulling away from the hug. Harry shrugged, “We finished on a good note. Mitch sent you a cat mom mug.” Harry and Anne continued discussing Harry’s tour life.  Harry cherished these moments because he could finally relax. *  *  *  *              The swerving cart twisted down the claustrophobic aisles.  Harry hummed along with the store’s Christmas music while examining the wine bottles.  Harry tsked, deciding whether a Moscato paired with his mother’s roast better than a dry red.  Harry grabbed the blue bottle, checking off another item on his list.   “Harry, is that you?” Harry’s heart clenched, identifying that sweet voice in seconds.   Harry looked up from his basket, his eyes landing on a blushing Y/N.  Harry gasped because Y/N looked beautiful in that maroon dress. “Y/N, hey, I was going to call you.  I got in yesterday,” Harry stumbled over his words. Y/N grinned, “Great, I’m sure your mother is happy.  She visited the gallery to remind me that you would be home.” Harry blushed, of course, his mother reminded his ex-girlfriend to visit him.  Y/N grabbed the bottle of red wine Harry set down a few seconds ago.  Harry’s eyes bulged out at the large engagement ring on her small finger.  Y/N caught Harry ogling the ring.  She didn’t want him to find out about the engagement this way. “Derek proposed last month,” Y/N mumbled, looking at her black heels. Harry nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.  Harry and Y/N broke up five years ago, but Harry always pictured marrying Y/N.   “I’m happy for you.  Why didn’t you call?” Y/N frowned, “Harry, it isn’t the type of thing you say over the phone.  I’m not sure how healthy it is to tell your ex-boyfriend about your new boyfriend.” Harry snorted, “I thought we were best friends.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Harry, I’d rather not argue.  It’s time you wake up and realize we were never friends after that day.” Harry opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, but Y/N was right.  Y/N was always right.  Harry couldn’t go back to being friends after their first kiss, after their first time together, and not after their last breakup.   *  *  *  *            Harry stormed into his house, tossing the grocery bags on the nearest clear surface.  Gemma and Anne laughed, chopping up nuts for the fruitcake.  Harry entered the kitchen, breathing as if he might explode. “Why didn’t you tell me that Derek proposed?” Harry asked. Guilt flashed across Anne and Gemma’s eyes, “We didn’t know how you would take it.  It also isn’t our news,” Anne argued. Harry snorted, “Well, it was your news when you told her that I was visiting.” Gemma glared, “Harry, you need to calm down. Mom understands that you and Y/N are friends, and a friend should be happy when their friend is happy.  She hasn’t been this happy since…” “Since me,” Harry mumbled. “Haz, it will be okay,” Anne promised. Harry nodded, “You’re right.  She can marry Derek because he’s better than I ever was.  I broke her heart.” Anne and Gemma watched Harry shuffle toward his bedroom.  Harry locked his bedroom, falling into the pit of depression calling out his name.   *  *  *  *              Anne greeted the guests, complimenting everyone’s ugly sweaters.  Harry stood near the roaring fireplace, watching Y/N lean on Derek’s shoulder.  Derek dragged a hand through his perfect blonde hair, sipping on the red wine Y/N brought.  Harry glared, chugging the last bit of his wine.  Gemma and Michal sang Christmas songs near the decorated tree, tripping over their feet.  Harry shuffled away from his spot, searching for anything to soothe his growling stomach. Harry slipped around guests, hiding away in the warm kitchen.  Harry munched on fruitcake and leftover veggies.   “Hey Harry, this party is amazing,” Derek cheered, knocking his glass against Harry’s empty one. Harry faked a smile, “How are you?” “Great, did Y/N tell you about the engagement?” Derek asked, searching among the food for anything good. Harry nodded, “How did you propose?” Derek chuckled with pride, “Well, I invited her friends and family to her favorite restaurant.  I ordered her favorite dessert and placed the ring on the fork.  She nearly ate the ring, but I stopped her before anything happened.” Harry’s gut twisted with envy because Y/N deserved so much more.  Harry recalled planning his proposal to Y/N.  Y/N dreamt of visiting Venice, so he planned to take her there one day and propose.   “Hey, you okay?  You look upset,” Derek mumbled, touching Harry’s arm. Harry nodded, faking another smile, “Isn’t it crazy?  You and I were friends since we were ten, and now you are marrying my best friend.” Derek frowned, noticing the cruel tone in Harry’s voice, “Did I do something wrong?” “You proposed to my girlfriend,” Harry hissed. Derek snorted, “Listen, mate, she isn’t your girlfriend anymore.  You fucked up that night.  You cheated on her with the one person she never trusted, and you refused to be there when I was.” Harry stared down at his feet like a little kid in trouble.  Harry relived that night too many times, and it haunted his broken heart.  Derek nodded, stealing a couple carrots from Harry’s plate. “You fucked up,” Derek repeated. Harry pushed past Derek, choking back the sobs threatening to spill out of his rosy lips.  Harry’s shoulder rammed into Y/N, stopping his feet for a few seconds. Y/N squeaked, looking at Harry with the largest grin but it faded once she noticed the tears streaming down Harry’s cheeks. “Haz, what’s wrong?” Y/N asked, her words laced with concern. Harry shut his eyes, focusing on his rapid breathing, “I need a minute alone.” “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?  You can talk with me,” Y/N cupped Harry’s cheeks, calming his racing heart. Harry opened his eyes, “You are marrying Derek.” Harry pushed past Y/N, leaving her there in shock.  Y/N gripped her heart, her eyes following Harry’s disappearing figure.  Y/N jogged after Harry, exiting the warm house.  Harry ignored the snow flurries falling past his shrinking figure. *  *  *  *  *            Y/N placed her hands on her knees, bending over to catch her breath. She lost Harry a couple of blocks back, and now she needed to sit down and rest.  Harry kicked up a pile of orange and brown leaves, choosing a nearby park bench to cry on.  Y/N wandered around the town aimlessly, wiping furiously at the tears warming her frozen cheeks.  Why did Harry have to show up?  Why did Harry have to revive her broken heart?  Why did Derek have to propose?  A sob echoed around the cheery town.  Harry flinched, listening to someone’s footsteps approach him.  Harry froze when he heard Y/N’s sob break the silence.   “You found me,” Harry mumbled. Y/N jumped, but breathed a sigh of relief, “You’re okay.” Harry snorted, playing with the holes on his mittens, “I’m not dead, but I feel like I am.” Y/N nodded, sitting down beside him, “Harry, I never meant to hurt you.” “Then why did you agree to it?” Harry asked. “Harry, you broke my heart.  You cheated on me with Kendall.  I tried to work it out, and you refused to answer my calls. Do you understand how bad that hurt me? You promised I would be everything to you.  You promised you wouldn’t hurt me, but you did.  I picked up the pieces by myself, and when Derek asked me out, I didn’t imagine it ending in happiness.  Derek helps me forget about the heartbreak.  I didn’t even know we had been dating four years until he mentioned it.” Harry nodded, “I wanted to propose to you. I wanted everything to be okay. We were nineteen, and that isn’t an excuse, but I pictured us getting back together.”  Y/N winced, “Harry, you can’t talk like that. We aren’t in some make-believe place where you never cheated, and you eventually came back to me.” Harry frowned, reaching for Y/N’s hands, “I love you.  I know you love me too.  Please, don’t marry Derek.” Y/N yanked her hands away, breathing rapidly, “Harry, I need to leave.” Harry watched Y/N run toward his house while he sobbed alone in the park.  *  *  *  *              A blanket of snow coated the sleepy town.  A tap on Harry’s window jostled Harry awake from his light slumber. Harry glanced around the dark room, listening for another tap.  Harry looked outside, watching Y/N wave her hands like a madman.  Harry grinned, dressing in whatever clothes he found near him. Harry tripped down the stairs, opening the door to invite the cold air into his house.  Y/N tackled Harry in a hug, filling his mouth with her puffy coat. “Hey, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, setting her down. Y/N giggled, “I missed you.” Harry smirked, “I saw you last night.  We drank wine and ate my mom’s terrible fruitcake.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “I missed you because I realized what a fool I was.  I left the love of my life last night on a park bench.  I left him to break up with the man who proposed to me but never filled the hole in my heart.  Instead, I’m here, asking my ex-boyfriend and best friend to be my boyfriend again.  I realized that I am willing to trust you again because life without you is terrible.” Harry grinned, cupping Y/N’s cheeks to press his hungry lips to her plump ones.  Y/N melted into his arms, whimpering into the kiss.  Harry pulled away, taking in Y/N’s beauty. “I love you.” “I never stopped loving you,” Y/N admitted, stealing another kiss. The couple continued to celebrate their new love on the front porch surrounded by the first snow of the year.  This time, Harry wouldn’t let anything bad happen to their relationship.  

[the-foxwolf]

A Quest for Vengeance: “Escape”: A Short Story

It’s time for another episode of my “A Quest for Vengeance” Series! 

In today’s episode, the action resumes as some of our protagonists escape their prison cells and take the fight to the slavers! As The Arena looms in the distance, which of our protagonists will be turned against each other? Find out this episode!

(Coercive Portal: Conspiracy) (Art by Yeong-Hao Han)

Gather `Round! It’s Story Telling Time!

          Ellis and Kheve awake to the shock of near freezing water. Gasping and trembling, the pair scramble and fall from their cots, eyes wide and fists tight. Janice does nothing to contain her mirth as she sets down two frost covered buckets.

           “Sun’s up, you’re up.” She says. “It’s the big day. You must be so excited.”

           Kheve scowls and wipes the small drops of frozen slush from his face. “I hope the sun sets on you someday and never rises again.”

           “That some sort of saying on your home world?” Janice asks, arching an eyebrow. “Cute. I only saw the sun three times before I arrived to this world.”

           The warrior visibly flinches.

           Ellis speaks, silencing whatever response Kheve might have said. “The big day? You mean when we finally leave this cell and fight in your silly Arena?”

           “Exactly.” Janice says as though to a puppy. “How cute you are when you think.”

           The Gruul Clansman roars and charges the cell bars, spooking Janice into taking a step back. His pleasure is as plain on his face as the twin suns in the sky. Janice huffs and reaches forward, tapping his hands as they grip the bars. Instantly, his hands are trapped in a chunk of ice, freezing him against the cell bars. He spews a series of foul language, swears, and curses as he struggles against the biting cold.

           “You get to see the sands of The Arena in just a few hours.” Her teasing tone turns somber, but just for a moment, as she says, “Make peace with whatever gods you pray to.”

           She turns on her heeled boot and snaps her fingers, shattering the ice blocks around Ellis’ hands. Immediately he shoves his hands into his armpits, prompting violent trembling and teeth chattering. Janice disappears down the hallway as she rounds the corner.

           “P-p-p-please te-tell me-me to-today is-s when we-we escape.” Ellis stammers.

           “Not today, Ellis.” Kheve calmly says. “Soon. But not yet. Remember. We have to rescue all the other slaves in here. I won’t leave without them.”

           Ellis says nothing, but the setting of his jaw and calming of his shivers speaks his position. After a moment, he asks, “How many of them do you think there are? Slaves, I mean?”

           “It doesn’t matter.” Kheve answers, walking back to his clothes and seeing if anything left is dry that he could wear. “The real question is…how many slavers? So far, I know of only two. The goblin and this woman.”

           “So they either are understaffed or they’re huge and have assigned us handlers.”

           “This short hallway alone has three cells, including out own.” Kheve goes on. “The dungeon we were originally in was huge- big enough for a sand wurm. Which means-“

           “Animal captives or large groups.”

           Kheve starts changing into drier clothes as Ellis heads toward his own cot. “I’m guessing animals. There were very few places to shackle people. The few chain bases there were enormous, but not plentiful, which lends itself to large animals.”

           “The Gruul also use animals as challenge beasts.” Ellis says.

(Gruul Ragebeast: Gatecrash) (Art by David Kendal)

“What you’re describing sounds about right.” He continues. “But we build our cages to be far more appropriate to the size of the beast. Never something as big as you describe. I was asleep the whole time, so I have just what you’re telling me to work with.”

           “I imagine that there are other captives. It can’t just be us two. The fact that these other two cells aren’t occupied can tell us much too. They either don’t have too many more captives or they have a large enough facility to house several of us.”

           “There are no guards patrolling the halls, like I’d expect.” Ellis adds.

           “Right. Which implies that their operation is probably smaller then. Or that they rely heavily on their technology.”

           “Looks like we found our way out then! Lets-“

           “No, Ellis. We wait until we know more. We have to. I want to escape as much as you do, but I’m not leaving without freeing the others here. However many that may be.”

           “What’s the big deal with you and freeing them anyways, Kheve? You’re not responsible for them? They don’t owe you anything.”

           “It’s not about that.” Kheve says, gaze distant. “Everyone deserves the chance to try and be who they want to be. If they get swept off their feet and die, at least they died trying. If they fold over and serve another, then that was their choice too. But there nothing worse than having your freedom to act and choose taken from you. Nothing.”

           Ellis lays back and stares at the stony ceiling, musing. At length he says, “I suppose you’re right. If any of my clansmen were captured like me, I’d gather the whole tribe and go free them. We’re all free spirits. It’s not right to keep us locked up.”

           Kheve shrugs and leans his back against the prison bards. “Two sides of the same coin, I suppose. Different reasons, same objective.”

           Thaclel stands upon the alien, metal, ground and grass gazing upon the glorious work before her. Beautiful, perfectly engineered, laborers contentedly tear down the ruins of a now forgotten civilization. What was once inefficient wasted space for the primitive fleshlings that once lived here would soon become a new Birthing Field for Phyrexia.

(Norn’s Dominion: Planechase 2012 Edition) (Art by Igor Kieryluk)

           Even now, a Wurmcoil Engine churns the hard aluminum soil to soften the ground enough for the laborers to start building a foundation for the Birthing Field. As perfect as any of Sheoldred’s Obliterators or Jin-Gitaxias’ Consecrated Sphinxes, the Wurmcoil Engine is the pinnacle of Phyrexian engineering. Efficient. Powerful. Alive. While the Obliterators are perfected killing machines and the Sphinxes are perfect hunters, the Wurmcoil Engines had nothing that could not do. Perhaps not at the same efficiency as the other two, sure. But even one of these mighty machines is worthy of admiration, perhaps even worship, as an emblem of all that Phyrexia embodies.

           To think that this Wurmcoil Engine was but one of Phyrexias’ glorious creations. The Great Work consisted of so many more perfect designs. Each one engineered specifically to accomplish the task they were meant to serve.

           No hunger. No fear. No despair. Only Phyrexia and all its glory. How could anyone be so ungrateful as to not want to share all Phyrexia has to offer? Such selfishness! Imagine the beauty in knowing exactly what you are meant to do in life. No misconceptions or misgivings or mistakes. Only clarity. Here is your part in the grand design. No confusion. No loneliness. What a perfect system.

           Thaclel wakes up with a smile. Imagine, a New Phyrexia; a Phyrexia free of the Ineffable’s hate-filled and selfish existence. What a wonder it would be to see a New Phyrexia, one whose only purpose is to share with all the glory it brings.

           Now it all makes sense to her. Phyrexia isn’t a nightmare. But it is a dream. The only thing unpleasant about it is how little other worlds know of it.

           Marius speaks from across the cell at her, “How could you get any sleep? We’re going in to The Arena in a few hours now. Aren’t you the slightest bit nervous? Is that something Phyrexians deal with? Nervousness?”

           Thaclel rises from her pile of hay and stretches her overly long arms. “We experience nervousness just like you, Marius. We are made more efficient by it when we perceive the sakes as higher.”

           “What did you dream of?” He asks. “It seemed you enjoyed whatever it was.”

           “Yes…” Thaclel mutters, lost in thought. She turn to him and says, “I have something to fight for, Marius. Something to live for. A goal I have been striving to achieve for many long years now. Thank you.”

           Marius frowns. He frowns. His face hurts as he does so. Frowning is new to him. “What could possibly inspire a Phyrexian to have hope? What is this?”

           Thaclel ignores him and turns to face the cell bars. “We have to escape now, Marius. All along I wanted to leave. But now I want to be rid of this world and everyone on it.”

           “Listen, Thaclel, slow down there.” Marius says, putting a hand on her upper shoulder. “First we find out how to escape. I can tell you’re eager. But it’s not like we can just break out of these magic inhibitor collars. Do you have a plan?”

           She turns to him, her toothy smile terrifying and cruel. “Yes, Marius… I have a plan. I’m certain that, one way or another, this plan will ensure we don’t live to see The Arena.”

           Dominique stretches his arms and his back as he throws on a loose shawl over his shoulders. “You two know the drill. Janice, off to The Arena and prepare the Set-Up Rooms and the beasts. Tom-Tom, off to prepare the rest of the staff and make sure The Arena is ready for visitors. I’ll go ahead and move the captives to the holding cells.”

           The trio split off in distinct directions, each to the job they have done so many times now. In under a minute, he arrives at the door to the captive hallways, the path beneath his feet known to him intimately. With a flick of his fingers, he unlocks the intricate metal locks of the front gate. He walks in and closes it behind himself.

           As he approaches the short hallways where the Phyrexian and the Ravnican are being held, he overhears them talk.

           The Phyrexian says, in its harsh metallic whispers, “You have taught me much, Marius of Zelzo. For a moment I actually learned what it was like to think and feel like a fleshling. But that ends now. I have had my fill.”

           A wet, gushing sound, and a pained grunt emit from the cell and Dominique’s casual walk turns into a sprint. He rounds the corner and sees one of the Phyrexian’s heavy claws rammed into the human’s stomach. Black ooze trickles down its claw and stains Marius’ chiton, the dark ink spreading like oil over water.

           “No!” Dominique shouts and he charges toward them. He waves his hand and Thaclel is rammed against the wall, arms splayed like wings. The magnet mage unlocks the door to their cell and rushes to Marius’ side. “Don’t die on me, Ravnican. Your plane needs you to fight in The Arena. Dying now only condemns your plane.” Dominique proceeds to rip open Marius’ chiton to see the wound. But there’s nothing there. The slaver realizes the plot just a second too late.

(Murderous Compulsion: Shadows over Innistrad)  (Art by David Palumbo)

What had seemed to be Thaclel’s claws rammed into Marius’ stomach was but a ruse. With a wet slsssh, Marius drives the claw into Dominique’s abdomen. He kneels there, shocked, while Marius scrambles to his feet and the pair flee the prison cell.

           Dominique groans and falls over onto his side.

           “Any ideas where to find our gear?” Marius asks as he runs, trying to tie the ripped chiton together.

           “No more than you.” Thaclel replies as she kicks open the door leading to the outside. Twin suns bear down upon their pair, blinding them.

           “What do you think he meant by ‘condemns your plane’?” Marius asks as their eyes adjust.

           “Act now. Think later. We must act before we draw attention to ourselves.” Their eyes adjusted, Thaclel points at a spacious building nearby. “There.”

           Marius rolls his eyes. “You think? It’s not like there is anything else in this barren desert.” He says, surveying their surroundings.

           “Move, Marius.”

           Tom-Tom watches as his Rooter-Snooters do their work in the stadium stands. Miniature ant-eater artifact creatures who busily snoot about the stadium stands, sucking up trash and sand with their snouts while cleaning and polishing with their hands.

(Salivating Gremlins: Kaladesh) (Art by Christopher Burdett)

He takes a drink from his water bottle. Even standing beneath the shadow of the announcer’s box, the heat is suffocating. Janice would probably have died of heat stroke by now. Born in the badlands of Mount Tribadie, Tom-Tom was used to the heat. Doesn’t mean it’s any more comfortable when wearing a suit, jacket, slacks, and shoes.

           He feels something buzz in his suit pocket. The Tragedy Bar! He reaches into his pocket, and retrieves it, and reads the hand-sized triangular prism. “Wounded. Phyrexian and Ravnican escaped cell. Hurry.”

           Mountains and Magma! Dominique first. As long as the Phyrexian and the Ravnican have their collars on, they’re not going anywhere. But Dominique might if he doesn’t get help soon. Janice needs to suit up.

           Janice feels a buzz in her back pocket. The Tragedy Bar. But right now is not a good time. A baloth has escaped its cage and released its pack mates. They need to be captured or put down. Now.

(Rampaging Baloths: Zendikar) (Art by Steve Prescott)

           The first rampaging baloth bellows as it charges, the muscles of its powerful chest and arms rippling. She braces herself and steadies her breath. One false move and its over. Only four meters away now, Janice moves into action. With a powerful forward lunge, both fists extended, an ice thick spike of ice sprouts from the ground, mimicking her angle. The ice spike pierces the baloth’s chest, the beast’s own momentum further ramming the spike into its body. Speared like roast rabbit over a spit, the baloth twitches once and dies.

           Another two baloths flank her and charge in from the sides, Janice extends her palms outward, one toward each, and the cobblestone ground beneath the beast’s claws turn to thick slippery ice. She turns her palms to face the ground in front of her and a torrent of dense snow pours forth violently. The effect of the effort hurls her backward, well out of harm’s way. With a tremendous thud, the two baloths slam into one another, knocking them off their feet and disorienting them.

           With a snap of her fingers, she freezes the baloth’s claws to each other, locking them together. They’re not getting out of that. The final baloth circles around her. She grins. It bellows and charges, spittle spraying from its mouth. Janice forms twin snowballs in her hands and condenses them. Then, with a flair, she hurls and magically propels them at the baloth’s head. The hardened, dense, compacted snowballs impact its skull with a m echoing crack! And the baloth’s eyes roll back into its head. Dead. It comes to a slow grinding halt as its momentum ends and stays still, only a couple meters away from Janice.

           That’s all of them. She reaches back and reads the message. Janice feels her blood turn as cold as her magic. Dominique!

           “I’m coming, Dom!” She shouts, brushing aside the fact that the remaining baloths need to be put back into their cage. Janice swears and mutters. “Damn it! I need to suit up. Blast this stupid desert heat. But I can’t save him if I collapse too.”

           Her Tragedy Bar buzzes. It’s Tom-Tom.  Suit Up. I’m going after Dom. You take care of the escapees. She scowls. But he’s probably right. She doesn’t have time to suit up and make it to Dominique. Not as fast as Tom-Tom could. The escapees would probably be looking for their gear. Right now, she needed to focus on that. She would have to trust in Tom-Tom to take care of Dominique.

           Thaclel barrels through the door to The House and into the hallway, the claws of her feet leaving scratches on the fine carpet.

           “Any idea how we’re gonna get these collars off?” Marius asks.

           The Phyrexian sighs. “I am as ignorant as you right now Marius. Stop asking.”

           Marius steps around Thaclel and glances down the warmly lit tall hallway. “We’ve got a fifty percent chance of finding the stuff if we go…um… this way. Come on!”

           “Marius, we have a fifty percent change regardless of which direction we went. It is a binary option.”

           They hurry down the hallway and spill into a lobby, nearly tripping on each other as they see how nicely decorated it is. Fine chairs, a chandelier, soft orange lighting, and lamps. To their left is a counter with what seems to be a computer.

           “This- this is wrong. When they said Arena, the meant entertainment arena.” Marius stammers.

           “No time for ethical shock. We must move.”

           The pair double back the way they came, knowing their gear would most likely be deeper into the facility. As they run they pass a kitchen, a game room, a small library, and a gymnasium.

           “This place sure feels nice compared to the outside.” Marius observes as they reach the end of the hallway. They must have that ‘air conditioning’ stuff in here.”

           “Shut up, Marius.”

           “We should go that way, toward that painting of what looks like the stadium we fought at in Theros.”

           “Your last suggestion was not fruitful. I suggest we go this way, toward that painting of the desert.”

           “Fine. Whatever, Thaclel. You guess is as good as mine.”

           The two planeswalkers hit the end of the hallway and peer down the length of the new one. A very short length. At the end is a door upon the which are written strange etchings.

           “Phyrexian…” Thaclel whispers, reaching for it.

           “No time for existential crisis, Thaclel. The slavers are bound to be here any minute!”

           She snaps at him, with a scowl, “Are you not curious as to why this door is marked with the language of my makers?”

           Marius huffs and puts his hands on his hips. “Fine. Let’s do this now. What does it say Thaclel?”

           “’Enter only to scar the mind of all you know’”

           “Sounds like a cheery place. Let’s go.”

           “Marius, wait!”

           The Ravnican opens the door to find a large ovular ring set upon a stage. A whirling chaos of colors, light, and darkness swirl unpredictably like melting ice cream, within the chassis.

(Coercive Portal: Conspiracy) (Art by Yeong-Hao Han)

           “That looks like a portal to me if I’ve ever seen one.”

           “It is an ambulator.” Thaclel says, awed. “A stationary ambulator. But what is it doing here?”

           “Damn it Thaclel! What do we do? Do you wanna go through? Or go find our stuff?”

           She isn’t even listening. “I do not understand what is going on, Marius. Is this merely repurposed technology? Or are these slavers related to Phyrexia? I must know.”

           He tugs at her arm and she reluctantly turns away from the ambulator. “Thaclel. Gear first. Portal later?”

           “Fine.” She says, a grim determination in her voice. “We must hurry.”

           Tom-Tom reaches Dominique and immediately sets to work, the slaver boss lays motionless on the jail cell ground, in a puddle of his own blood. The goblin reaches into his suit jacket and retrieves a Teardrop. Boros Legionaries used these things as explosive sources of healing. They were a pain to acquire, but Dom’s life was worth any amount of inconvenience. In an instant, Dominique’s wound was healed. But the loss of blood could not be undone. It was up to Dominique’s will to survive now.

           Live. Tom-Tom thinks as he presses a palm against Dominique’s shoulder. Live.

           Janice finalizes her check on her suit. It’s really more of an armor, but whatever. Silvery-blue plating decorated with pale blue swirls covers her body. Tightly enough for the thermal regulator to efficiently cool her, but not so tight as to restrict her movement or feel bulky. She takes a deep breath and taps her glass dome helmet to darken the visor. The glass dome provides her with all the ease of vision she needs without relying on instruments. It wasn’t something she was worried about. She had already put it through rigorous testing. Sand wurm level testing. And it held up just fine. Sturdy, comfortable, and useful. The fact that it didn’t hide her face from her enemies was just a plus. She needed her enemies’ last sight be of her face. Something to carry with them in whatever afterlife they believed in.

           She steps out into the bright of the desert outside The Cage where they housed their battle beasts. Janice knew she could handle being outside a few minutes without her containment suit. But there was no telling if she would have to engage the Phyrexian and the Ravnican outside, so she had to risk it. The most likely place the escapees would be is The House. In fact, it’s the only place they could be unless they thought they could endure the desert.

(Endless Sands: Hour of Devestation) (Art by Noah Bradley)

           Payback time.

           Dominique gasps for breath as he regains consciousness. His first words with his newly gifted breath are: “Janice! Where is she? Tom-Tom! Are you alright?”

           The goblin nods and signs: “Janice should be suited up by now and hunting down the escapees.”

           “Good. We had better go back her up then.” He tries to stand but only ends up getting lightheaded and sitting back down.

           “You are in no condition to fight. Stay here. I will go and help.”

           “No.” Dominique mutters. “My magic is perfect for the Phyrexian.”

           “No! You stay. I go. You are no good to us dead.”

           “Fine.” Dominique concedes. “Go. She needs you.”

           Janice walks into the hallway, hardened, compacted, snowballs swirling in a light mist of frost in her hands, above her armored hands. She notices the scratches on the carpet going in both directions. Must be the Phyrexian. The lobby is out on the right, at which point they would have only the desert to escape to. So that means they must be toward the left.

           She follows the tracks, keeping notice that none of the tracks lead into any of the adjoining rooms. Could they have found The Portal? Janice thinks to herself. That would be bad.

           To her dismay, the claw marks lead down both sides when she reaches the end of the hall. I might as well head for the armory. No point in chasing them down across the portal. It’s not like they’ll be going anywhere we won’t be able to find them once they’re on the other side.

           The Armory was surprisingly easy to get into. Well, once one considered the fact that Thaclel’s arms were significantly longer than most.

           “You got your stuff?” Marius says as he continues to strap on his armor.

           “I had only a war hammer, Marius.”

           “Right. Right. I was just-I don’t know-making small talk? How’s your hand feeling? The missing claw hurting you much?”

           Thaclel nervously glances down the hallway. It’s been too quiet for too long. The slavers must almost be here. “The pain is irrelevant right now, Marius. Hurry.”

           Marius glances around him at the multitude of weaponry around him. Crossbows. Lances. Swords. Shields. And a grand assortment of war-enabling items. All of them meant nothing compared to his own gear. Emblazoned with the Boros sigil, perfectly fitted, comfortably weighed, and most importantly- his. He never realized how much he took ownership of a thing for granted until the slavers stripped it all away from him. Marius knew he would have to return and put an end to their operation. But right now he needed to make sure he’d live long enough to come back.

           “I hear someone coming. Grab your gear, Marius. Time is up.”

           Marius drops his gear, ignoring her, and hefts a heavy crossbow sitting on a shelf nearby.

(Heavy Arbalest: Scars of Mirrodin) (Art by David Rapoza)

Years of practice and a strong core let him load the weapon swiftly and he hands it to Thaclel and says, “You have one shot. Make it count.”

           Not a moment too late, either. Janice, armored in her containment suit, rounds the corner down the hallway still a ways off. Thaclel hefts the heavy crossbow with ease, her Phyrexian targeting programs optimizing her attack, and pulls the trigger.

           Janice sees the Phyrexian wielding the heavy crossbow down the hall standing at the Armory door. Her breath catches in her chest and she throws her arms up instantly, coating herself in a dense thick ice armor. Speeding metal death flies to her and impacts her forearms. Deflected. But the price is steep. The bolt ricochets off her forearms at an angle downwards…straight into her leg. She feels bone snap and flesh rend as the piecing projectile burrows itself into her body. At once time feels eternally slow yet breathtakingly fast in pain and panic. Janice collapses. Before the captives manage to fire off another bolt or reload, Janice slams her palm on the ground and summons a meter thick cocoon of ice to cut her off from them. Just as the spell resolves, Janice feels herself slip away into unconsciousness.

             “Excellent shot, Thaclel.” Marius says as he shoves the rest of his armor into a pack. “Now let’s get out of here and to that portal.”

           “Do you not want to finish the cryomancer?”

           “Not really, no.” Marius replies, shouldering the backpack. “We don’t have time. The rest of their forces could be here any minute. Let’s take comfort that we’ve now killed one, or maybe two, or their people. Now let’s go.”

           Thaclel nods and follows Marius down the hall, sidestepping Janice’s ice bubble. When at last they somberly step into the portal room Marius voices the thoughts both were having all along. “We really don’t know where this portal is going, do we?”

           “Better to leave than to stay.”

           “You’re right about that…well…you first?”

           “Agreed. Let us hope we meet on the other side, Marius.”

           “Yeah. And that the collars don’t kills us during out jump through The Blind Eternities…”

             Tom-Tom frets his hands, nervous, as he stands in the hallway and watches the exhausted Dominique call upon his magic to mend Janice’s leg, who is now free of her ice bubble. Dominique shouldn’t be doing this, not until they were sure Dominique was ready. But there was no time.

           The metal mage takes a deep breath and casts his spell, eyes closed calmly but heart beating rapidly. Slowly, the metal crossbow bolt softens and oozes down into Janice’s injury, seeping through the wound. Beneath the cryomancer’s flesh, the liquid metal molds itself around Janice’s compound fracture. She takes a sharp gasp and the metal forces itself tightly around her bone, forcefully melding them together.

           Dominique wipes the sweat from his brow and releases a heavy sigh. “There. Now the Teardrop should heal you completely without risking it healing poorly. Sorry, Janice. I know it hurt, despite my efforts.”

           She nods, sweating beneath her helmet. Normally her containment suit was hardy enough to handle most direct shots. But not something as direct and as powerful as a heavy crossbow at close distance. Spears and lances? No problem. But a heavy crossbow at less than five meters? No way.

           Tom-Tom brushes past Dominique and applies the Teardrop immediately to the special slot near Janice’s neck. She moans lightly as the magic suffuses her and heals her damaged body. Magic or not, the Mana Burn associated with the sudden and extreme influx of magic was dangerously exhausting.

           Janice lays down on her back, hands resting on her stomach and she says, “They’re gone, Dom. Before they got the drop on me I noticed there were claw marks on the carpet leading to the Portal Room. I’m sure you can see a second set of scratches if you look. They got away.”

           He kneels beside her and rests his hand on her shoulder and chuckles, “That is your first thought? Really?”

           She rolls her eyes at him. Then remembers she’s wearing a helmet and visibly shrugs. “I’m a little determined to get my revenge on those two.”

           “You two are in no condition to pursue.” Tom-Tom says, arms crossed against his chest. “With their collars still on, they will not be able to planeswalk. We will easily catch them when you two recover.”

           Janice shakes her head and props herself on her shoulders. “No. The Matriarch will be here in a couple of days. We cannot risk Zerriko finding them. They have to be dealt with before he finds them and before The Matriarch arrives.”

           Tom-Tom huffs. “So what do you propose?”

           Dominique grins. “I have an idea…”

           The Metal mage approaches the bars of the cell, hand on his chin wearing a cocky smile. “I bet you two are feeling like the most unlucky pair in the multiverse right now. After all you’ve been through, you must feel beaten and abused. But take hope. I am giving you the chance to take possession over your own lives.”

          He shifts his weight and sets his hands on his hips. “I am in need of your help. Two of our captives have escaped and I am certain you two are the best qualified to either bring them in or bring them down. Ah-before you ask any questions, hear me out. Do this for me, and I will free you both from captivity. I promise, on my honor. Though you may not think that counts as much, it’s all I have to offer.”

(Dominique) (Art by @confused-phyrexian)

           Dominique subconsciously caresses his abdomen where the wound once was. “I would prefer you bring them in but honestly, I don’t care. You’ll keep your collars till the job is done. In the meanwhile, I’ll unlock your access to everything except planeswalking. Though I’m going to lose at least two of my captives, I have a couple of other captives right now that are more than qualified to be a rush of entertainment at The Arena. So…before you reject me, let me tell you who your target it…you ready? It’s a Phyrexian planeswalker and her companion…I can tell by the expressions on your face that I have your attention. Listen closely. Maybe I am lying about her being a planeswalker. But tell me…can you risk it? Does it even matter? Bring them to me in any way you see fit and you will be freed with the promise me, and the organization I represent, will never bother you again. So…do we have a deal?”

           As one, the two Mirran planeswalkers nod steadfastly and respond. “Deal.”

If I’m tagging you, it’s because you have expressed interest in this series in the past. If you liked what you read, reblog this. I really enjoy what I’m doing. And I want to share it with people.

@foilmountain @vorthosthewillis @actualborossoldier @askkrenko @nantukohunk @confused-phyrexian @baldore-of-the-boros @verumlumen

@triumviratethree @weasel102 @iamafireplace @inudono @shorewall @gryffns-nest @pidgemidge @yawgmoth-lord-of-sin

@hereitsallalright @itsblueslipper @moxithefox @kreetn @jolly-ob-saint-nixilis

[reactingtosomething]

Solo Reaction to Orphan Black Episode 510: “To Right the Wrongs of Many”

Well Done, Show.

The Setup: This is it, Clone Club. The final ride has ended, and I for one loved the hell out of it. Check below for my final Orphan Black solo reaction. Spoilers for the last five years, basically.

SARAH: Art knows what they need and is not the one who is Helena’s twin, clearly she should go be with Helena and he should get the medical supplies. I mean I know it had to be Sarah vs. “PT” at the end, obviously. But in-universe I’m right about that logic. But yeah, Sarah killing him with very little ceremony and none of his acolytes to watch was pretty appropriate.

OH GOD they pulled no punches with that suffocation visual.

This is EVOLUTION. More on that later.

The Sarah/Mrs. S parallels during the births, though. Sarah (and all the clones) are moving out from under the control of their lives and destinies. They are not S’s to watch over or Neolution’s to control. They are the adults. They’re raising each other and their kids.

Sarah and Helena’s joyful laugh/cries after the birth(s) are just lovely.

Is Sarah getting her GED?? I’m so proud! She’s turning into such a grownup, but is also still herself. Well done, show.

Honestly I do think that Sarah should sell the house. She needs to become her own version of an adult, not just step into S’s shoes entirely. Like, don’t move away to wander the earth apart from the whole support system, but get an apartment instead maybe.

Sarah. Get your ass back in there and take the GED test!

“I don’t know how to be happy. There’s no one left to fight and I’m still a shit mum.” There is SO MUCH here. For one thing that language is super telling—Sarah may not always be good at being a mother, but she’s far from a shit one compared to Coady, the other person who’s been described as such. There’s no question about Sarah being wrong here. (Admittedly she has not always been a good mother but she has been improving and she does always have Kira’s best interests at heart.) For another thing, this is very important and realistic. Ending an all-consuming battle and returning to normal life is never simple. Sarah was good at guerrilla warfare, essentially. Those skills don’t immediately translate to healthy coping mechanisms or finding a day job. Sarah is still Sarah. They’re all still the people they were before and during this shitshow. Alison is still the woman who sold drugs and hot glue gunned her husband. They’re all still just people and they can’t go from living one life to living a totally different one with no bumps, even a normal/“easier” one. Just because Sarah can’t do it immediately doesn’t mean she can’t do it at all.

None of them are perfect and they’re all in it together and it’s the most mellow but effective multi-clone season ender ever. No one look at me.

HELENA: This is basically a nightmare birth situation and I am NOT a fan.

Helena is preparing for vengeance even while ACTIVELY CONTRACTING and all I can say is damn, woman. Props.

OH MY GOD Art and Helena are such a good team! That was highly effective tag team murder.

It’s a boy. Of course they’re boys. Kira was (nearly) exploited the way Kendall and the Ledas' birth mothers were. Kira and Charlotte are the intermediates, the ones who are part of the Leda story but won’t grow up entirely within it, but these boys are the true next generation. They’re not just repeating the script over again, they’re a departure from the Neo controlled past.

That is the cutest and creepiest mobile ever.

Orange and Purple!! Ok, but babies lose their socks ALL THE TIME. This is an imperfect method.

“Always when I eat, he poops.”

Super into her Hawaiian shirt over overalls look.

“Where does this sand come from?”

They’re still not going to explain the black part of Orphan Black, are they?

I’m touched by the significance of naming the boys after Donnie and Art, but doesn’t that get confusing? Sure, call the baby Arthur instead of Art, but there’s nothing that far away from “Donnie,” sound-wise. And at least for now they live on the same property. (The one bit of Judaism that has managed to enter my psyche the most is the custom of not naming kids after living relatives, so I’m a little weird about this kind of thing.)

RACHEL: Is Rachel coming? Is that the secret person Felix is expecting? Yesssss. Even if she can’t be a part of the happy family, she is still a part of this and the show/Felix acknowledges it.

So we’re just straight up discussing this in front of the uber driver?

She gave them the list of Ledas. Rachel’s final redemptive act saves the rest of the clones she helped to subjugate, and is a final screw you to the people who made her do it for so long.

General Rachel thought: Rachel needed redemption. She was cruel and a part of the structure that controlled and killed a lot of people. She was a product of a deeply abusive situation that made her that way, but she still was that way. She still stomped on the potential cure, she still ordered the deaths of clones and others. In a way she and Helena are a better “two sides to the same coin” comparison than Helena and Sarah are. Both were raised largely without love or proper socialization. Both were made “self aware” while fairly young. Both are taught that they are the special one, and can only continue to do they terrible things they do by believing that fact. Both self-harm. Both learn that their extremely black and white world views are limited primarily by being exposed to the family of their clones, primarily Kira. Helena made the change much more quickly, but they are both on that arc.

ALISON: “I was a drug dealer for Pete’s sake” is peak Alison Hendrix.

The Hendrixes have joy and laughter as a part of their sex lives and I am happy about this.

I know this is not from this episode, but it’s amazing

COSIMA: Cosima is curing the Ledas!! She is doing it! And of course she feels like it’s not enough because she’s Cosima, but she’s doing it!

Science monkey! I love this.

Cos, you don’t have to be good with kids if you don’t want to be. Although she actually is excellent with kids, just not babies. So I guess the point is you don’t have to be maternal if you don’t want to be. You can love the children in your life without wanting your own. And if you do want children, being scared doesn’t mean you can’t do it.

Cosima is coming so close to meeting all of these women, but not quite. That’s beautiful and sad in its own way. She’s always been the one to embrace sisterhood the quickest, so I imagine she loves each of these sisters a little bit. But she’s not destroying their lives by telling them about all of this when there’s no need to. There is an argument to be made about not making the decision for them by keeping the info from them, but telling them would also be making that decision for them. I’m going to choose to believe that they leave a semi-conspicuous web trail so that any Ledas who start to become self aware can find clone club if they’re looking.

Also, can we talk about how gorgeous this artwork is and how I’m now obsessed with it? Please illustrate all of their adventures around the world.

TONY!!!! Guys, Tony has at least been acknowledged again! He and Krystal are cured and that is good.

EVERYONE ELSE: Goddammit Coady why are you so resilient?

“PT” (AKA JOHN) losing his grip is both terrifying and delicious. I was honestly hoping he would die of a heart attack—none of his cruelty or his science could save him from a simple failure of the body. But again, it being Sarah’s action was probably necessary.

Honestly, this was an underuse of Enger after they set her up to be such an interesting character in such small moments earlier. Clearly the focus here is on the Ledas more than their subjugators, but come on. I wonder if she had anything that ended up being cut for time? I’m excited to follow the actor’s career.

I know I already used this one, and it wasn’t from this episode. But look at how compelling she is! And this ^ isn’t even as good as the toothbrush scene!

There really is a kill them in the throat theme this season.

Art calling people sestra is adorable!

274??? Living or total ever? That’s so many!

I’ve done a lot of discussing parenthood as a sign of adulthood, and I certainly don’t want to say it’s a 1:1 situation. I think it has come up a lot this season especially because the show is a discussion of both family and evolution. It’s hard to have evolution without future generations, so there is a lot of kid focus. I don’t think the show goes to far in the direction of accidentally suggesting that motherhood is essential for adult womanhood—that’s the beauty of having a lot of women in your show. You can tell multiple stories, and multiple versions of the same story without suggesting that it is The Story.

I have no idea how intentionally Fawcett and Manson created this discussion of feminism and bodily autonomy. I think the later was the main intent and the feminism came out of the realization/acceptance of what they were already in the midst of creating. By making the lead a woman, they made most of the leads women, who all had to be different from each other. They couldn’t fall into the tropes many writers do when it comes to female characters. And when they began discussing This may be wrong and ungenerous of me—they may have had exactly this intent from the beginning!—but two things: 1) I think if they had a huge focus on feminism from the beginning there would have been more than one director who was a woman in the entire run (Helen Shaver, 3 episodes) and 2) Honestly, them learning the lesson as they went and freaking going for it is kind of great. Without meaning to (from the beginning—I’m not suggesting they were totally unaware this whole time!) these guys made a show that is all about women reclaiming their bodily autonomy from a big-for-tv version of forces that are very real in our lives. Realizing that that was the story and leaning into it effectively and without becoming a morality play is impressive and it gave us the show we have known and loved.

Ok, “this is evolution.” So true, on the science side and the personal side. Sarah and Helena have always been the outliers. It was a quirk of biology that lead to twins. And then their birth mother was willing and able to keep them safely away from Neolution. And they are actually able to conceive. None of these facts were intended or planned for. Evolution comes from gene mutations. Sometimes mutations are harmful, but sometimes they’re beneficial or neutral, and they get passed on and help the species become something new. If that happens enough times, you get a whole new species. There’s nothing intentional or graceful about it. You can’t plan for it, and you can’t do much to control it. “PT” tried to, and it never worked out for him. There were always other changes, or not enough change, or the small detail of people being people and thus not entirely controllable. He was beaten by the results of the uncontrollable parts of evolution, an unexpected twin who unexpectedly became a mother. And Sarah has evolved as a person because of both of those things, as well as everything else. In killing “PT" she completes the final step of not just no longer running from her problems, but truly stepping out from underneath them.

Finally, let’s talk happy ending. Finishing this was hard—I’ve had trouble taking a long view of anything this weekend, in light of the events in Charlottesville, VA. This is the first time I’ve sat entirely still in at least a day. It’s made me even more glad that this show, which has always contained darkness and some shocking violence, let the “core four” of clones and most of their nearest and dearest survive. There were deaths along the way, and a shit ton of suffering, but they could have gone much darker about the ending for the sake of Realism and I’m damn glad they didn’t. The show was about finding the light and hope and family amidst all of this darkness. Sarah has been trying to be allowed/allow herself to be a part of her family since she got on that train. It doesn’t look like what she thought it would, but neither does she anymore. This is the version of family that works for this version of Sarah, and it works for the show too. Everything’s not perfect. S is dead, Rachel will never be a part of the family. They’ve all suffered massively. But they made it, and they have each other for support moving forward. Bad things can end. Good things can endure. That hasn’t always been an explicit message of the show, but it is the one they chose to build to.

That’s all, folks. For more weekly reactions, check out Kris’s GoT series. For more ass-kicking genre women, check out Wynonna Earp. For more of Miri have a lot of feeling, check out The Bold Type (and I guess this blog in general).

[uglygothic-blog]

Things about me.

(1) Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed? Closed, everything open just feels weird.

(2) Do You Have Freckles? None, a few moles though.

(3) Can You Whistle? No, don't know why

(4) Last Song You Listened To. Because I Want You - Placebo

(5) What Is Your Favourite Colour? Black haha

(6) Relationship Status. In one.

(7) What Is The Temperature Right Now? Quite cold.

(8) Did You Wake Up Cranky? Not cranky, just a bit out of it. Never know whats going on or what time it is.

(9) How Many Followers? Very few.

(10) Zodiac Sign. Pisces.

(11) What Is Your Eye Colour? Blue!

(12) Take A Vitamin Daily? No, I should but I always feel nervous putting more 'in' me than I need

(13) Do You Sing In The Shower? No, I live alone but I don't really get why people do this. I know my sister sings her heart out in the bath, its quite funny when I go to my parents house and just hear Beyonce coming from the bathroom.

(14) What Books Are You Reading? Aldous Huxley and a little Tolstoy short story book.

(15) Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14. It's a very tacky true life magazine so its a big advertisement for Vodaphone.

(16) Favourite Anime? Sailor Moon

(17) Last Person You Cried In Front Of? My boyfriend, as I was so tired I just started crying, it was quite funny

(18) Do You Collect Anything? Vinyl records, rosary beads, statues of the Virgin Mary, erm, I sort of collect manga but I haven't got anything new in a long long time.

(19) What Did You Have For Lunch? Nothing

(20) Do You Dance In The Car? Rarely

(21) Favourite Animal? This is hard...I love pandas, dogs, seals, bearded dragons, all lizards really, dolphins, pigs, sheep, cows, anything on a farm!

(22) Do You Watch The Olympics? Bits and pieces, I like the gymnastics but I'm not too fussed

(23) What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed? Lately around 2am-ish

(24) Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now? Nope

(25) Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean? A pool, the ocean moves too much and I'd be scared I'd swim into a used nappy or condom haha

(26) Favourite Tumblr Blog? Not sure yet, getting back into Tumblr and its hard to find all the old blogs I like.

(27) Bottled Water Or Tap Water? Tap as its cheaper.

(28) What Makes You Happy? Walking, drawing, finding new books, charity shops, cuddles with my dog or my boyfriends dog.

(29) Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now. -insert gif of Charlie from Its Always Sunny-

(30) Do You Study Better With Or Without Music? Without

(31) Dogs Or Cats? Dogs. Cats are cool but I've never had one and I'm allergic :(

(32) If You Were A Crayon What Colour Would You Be? A nice purple.

(33) PlayStation Or Xbox. Xbox

(34) Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean? I'd be a bit nervous with either really.

(35) Do You Believe In Magic? Not really. I believe in a supreme being but not sure about lots of spiritual things.

(36) What Colour Shirt Are You Wearing? A white tshirt with Bowie on it.

(37) Can You Curl Your Tongue? Yup

(38) Do You Save Money Or Spend It? Spend, only as I don't have enough to save.

(39) Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You? Hmm... there is a pink looking CD over the side of the room but it might just be red haha.

(40) Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now? My new sketchbook!

(41) Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly? We used to catch them as kids where I lived, bit cruel thinking about it, probably we were a big inconvenience to their butterfly life.

(42) Are You Easily Influenced By Other People? I like inspiration... but not really.

(43) Do You Have Strange Dreams? Oh god yes, I have very strange night terrors and odd dreams and night sweats all making for weird sleeps, I think its a common side effect from a medication I take.

(44) Do You Like Going On Airplanes? Yep

(45) Name One Movie That Made You Cry. Titanic haha

(46) Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds? Don't really like either

(47) If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be? The Damned or Nick Cave

(48) Are You A Picky Eater? Not naturally, I quite like most things. I make picky choices but most of the time I'm easy going in my head.

(49) Are You A Heavy Sleeper? Yeah

(50) Do You Fear Thunder / Lightning? No, it's quite pleasant I think

(51) Do You Like To Read / Write? Both are fun

(52) Do You Like Your Music Loud? If in headphones, it makes me uncomfortable having too loud music out loud as I have bad hearing and I hate not being able to hear people speak and ask them to repeat things.

(53) Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents? Neither please

(54) Put Your Music On Shuffle, What Is The First Song That Came Up? Them Bones - Alice in Chains

(55) What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather) Autumn

(56) What Are You Craving Right Now? A very cold Diet Coke

(58) What Is Your Gender? Female

(59) Coffee Or Tea? Don't really like either

(60) Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About? Nope, not in any education

(61) What Is Your Sexuality? Straight or just attracted to my boyfriend really, I'm a bit boring like that

(62) Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning? Yeah, seems to make the room look tidy instantly

(63) Favourite Pokemon? Ditto

(64) Favourite Social Media? Instagram

(65) What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories? Don't always click on them, but I don't have an opinion really. They're ok.

(66) Do You Get Homesick? Yes, I crave coming home to my nice empty flat.

(68) What Shampoo And Conditioner Are You Using Right Now? I ran out of them, and looked through my bathroom drawers and luckily found a set from Vo5 which I used last night and I didn't wake up with my hair wild around my head so I'm quite pleased. I always wake up with crazy hair I don't know why.

(69) If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free? I'd be tempted by the free option (though I don't have a car) but I think I'd be so scared of someone looking into the car and waking up and seeing them or even more while I slept, I'd just get a hotel.

(70) Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life? Yes, they've been together 26 years, little cuties.

(71)  Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters? I'd like to see American Made but I don't really like the cinema so I probably won't.

(72) Do You Miss Your Ex? Nah

(73) What Is Your Favourite Quote Right Now? It's not a quote but I thought it was quite funny how my mam greeted me with 'You look like a man in drag' yesterday when I went to see her. Good afternoon to you too mother.

(74)  What Eye Colour Do You Find Sexiest? I don't think I'd notice in a sexy way really.

(75) Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set? Yeah why not :)

(76) What Was The Last Thing You Ate? Erm I dried a dried cranberry with my mam yesterday :/

(77) What Games Do You Have On Your Phone? Not enough memory for games

(78) Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not? I'm not sure I could administer CPR very well as I'm not very strong but I'd try anything

(79) Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight? Most nights!

(80) Stalked Someone On A Social Network? Stalked is maybe a strong word, but I certainly do look at profiles that I'd probably be mortified if they knew I did or be a bit confused as to why.

(81) Do You Like Meeting New People? It's fine

(82) Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them. I wear a ring on every finger when I leave the house. I have two that I never take off. A ring I was given at my christening as a baby (I have weirdly small fingers so it fits haha) and my nana's engagement ring.

(84) What Are Three Things You Did Today? Organised a commission for art this morning, drank lots of water, did some surveys for money.

(85) What Do You Wear To Bed? Usually a t-shirt and pajama trousers usually not matching or a long old lady nightie. Socks depending on how cold my flat is.

(86) List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now. I think we might be here all day as I'm not attached to any certain brands so I have quite a range of different things. At the moment I like MUA as it's cheap and cheerful.

(87) Are You A Day Or Night Person? Night, days make me sleepy.

(88) List All Of Your Video Games On Your Phone, Console Etc. 0

(89) Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened. I dreamed I was trying to buy a cheese grater at the shop I live close to and each one was dirty with old cheese on it. Then the cheese graters turned into cheese themselves.

(90) Favourite Soda Drink? Pepsi Max or Fanta Zero Fruit Twist.

(91) What Sounds Are Your Favourite? The little tapping of my dogs feet on the wooden floor.

(92) Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More? Neither really.

(93) How Do You Look Right Now? Atrocious but who cares as I'm not leaving the house!

(94) Name Something That Relaxes You. Reading long articles about strange things or murders. They tend to make me drowsy. I like /r/unsolvedmysteries before I go to bed.

(95) What Tattoo Do You Want? I want a virgin mary tattoo on my forearm beneath my upper arm tattoo. A Papa Emiritus one would be cool too.

(96) Favourite YouTuber? I like ReignBot, Caileigh Elise, Criminally Listed, Merc, h3h3, Rachel and Jun, Rob Dyke, Abroad in Japan, Dark Light T, Kendall Rae, Ask A Mortician, spooky things!