#and we can see how little they give a fuck about honor or credibility or ANY of it

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Wolff/Sekemoto

Ponderings

Even if there hasn't been any new snow so far, it's still been difficult to get through the snow that has fallen so far and become hard due to the cold.. „Thornton? That's quite a surprise. I've never seen you here before."/ ”Yes, I rarely come by this area. I wanted to talk to Cy, is he there?"/ ‘Sure, come in’.

.Thornton was let into the house by Emma. And he was surprised that it was so tidy here. “I always thought people in shared flats were always totally messy, I was expecting mountains of laundry here…"/ ”hnhn, no, the women are so good at making sure nothing gets left lying around. What gives us the honor of your visit?".

The most important question on Thornton's mind was about the accessibility of the internet. “After Alto finally came out with his honesty, I did some tests and checks. We're safe again. then I made sure the connection is free to use again, any time of day or night. didn't they tell you?"/ ‘Apparently not, Au man, and my wife also thought we only had the one hour in the evening.’/ ‘hnhn, I see’.

“It would have been great if we'd been informed about it earlier"/ ‘I'm sorry that it wasn't gotten through to you yet…’/ ”Yeah, fuck it. And what about now? When will we finally get help? Some contacts must have already been made"/ ”yes, and there have already been some answers. But more from relatives than from the government."/ ‘What the fuck is going on there?’.

“If so many relatives and ftiends have already been contacted, as you say, then something should really get rolling, shouldn't it?"/ ”Sure, I agree with you. But apparently the people outside still have to check the credibility of what regards us here"/ ”What nonsense. Surely someone out there will have something to say and be able to help us”.

While Thornton is venting his displeasure, Blair and Emma are talking outside. “Where's Connor anyway?"/ ”He's trying to keep an eye on the supplies left in the gym. It's all counted out and no one should help themselves to too much"/ ‘I don't think he'll be able to keep track of it for long’.

“Believe me, he'd rather have something else to do than just hang over his writing pad all the time. If he spends too much time in the house, he gets grumpy"/ ”hnhn. But he's still very nice and has his quiet side"/ ‘hn, yeah, that's why I like him’.

Cy: “I've also written a few messages to people who I think will make sure we get help here as quickly as possible. But I also think that the winter could make things a bit more difficult now"/ ‘yeah great, there's going to be a baby boom here soon and at some point there'll be nothing to eat…. Hh, thanks for the info about the internet, then I can use my wife's laptop tonight.’.

After he had unloaded enough frustration,, Thornton became a little calmer and more thoughtful, which prompted Cy to ask how he was doing. “Is everything else okay with you? Is your little one well… And Sam?"/ ‘Our girl can't be well enough, she's a happy little baby, and Sam, well, not so well at the moment…’/ ‘Is he ill?’. Thornton knew he shouldn't talk about it yet, but he was still too upset. “No, he's… He's grieving for his grandmother"/ ‘I beg your pardon? Is she…’/ ‘Yes, but it's still unofficial’.

“unofficially? No one knows about it yet? How long has she been…"/ ”Only a few hours. Sam, he… He predicted yesterday that she would die today. And that's exactly what happened…"/ ‘W-really?’/ ”I know, sounds pretty weird. But apparently he's something of a messiah. And Morgana said something about a hypersensi-thing” .

“Hypersensitivity. Yes, I know something like that, I've read a lot about it and I've heard of people who have it and have developed special abilities as a result."/ ‘I see, well, it makes me nervous, I don't want to know when I'm going to die.’/ ”You're not going to die that quickly either, my friend. And what about…"/ ”Yumi? She's gone. Disappeared into thin air, so to speak. You'd better get information about everything else from Morgana or Sam. But don't tell anyone else for now, I was so stupid and couldn't keep my mouth shut.”

Cy had to smile a little at his statement. “So as far as secrets go, I'm like a Pandora's box… everything gets in, but not out"/ ”Must be a burden… knowing all the secrets. I think I'd burst at some point"/ ”hnhn. I don't have to deal with every single one of them. I'm just a good friend who doesn't blurt everything out again, hn”… Thornton understood his hint and had to laugh a little at himself. “haha… thanks for now, see you around”.

Thornton slowly made his way home again. He wondered who he would contact first. A former business partner? An old friend? So far, he had never used the evening Internet hour; his family had been more important to him in recent months. And now there were more options again…

------------------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover ⭐

Note: I couldn't think of a really good title for this episode... But that's often how I feel with some episodes... I hope it was somehow appropriate anyway.

[indecisive-behaviors]

Originally I was just going to add this as a reblog to my previous post about the parking lot scene in KK2 but it’s almost 2k words so now it’s getting it’s own post. Be forewarned- this is fucking long.

TW for discussion of PTSD, child abuse, neglect, injury, and death, in relation to topics surrounding the show, under the cut-

Obviously, Cobra Kai is a show based around the premise of “what happened to that Lawrence kid after he got kicked in the face?”, which is honestly a pretty cool idea for a show. Johnny’s story is never explained past sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands at the tournament, and there are no real context clue’s to figure out what may or may not have happened.

In the show we get to learn early on that Johnny’s life spiraled after the tournament, going from bad to worse to “holy shit how are you still alive”-dropping out/never going to college, working jobs he seems to hate, becoming an alcoholic, presumably many dead end relationships, and not being there for his kid. And yeah, obviously, this would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone watching the show if Johnny had just lost the tournament. If we never got the scene in KK2, he would have just been some kid who lost a tournament- we see at the end of the first movie that(through tears holy shit Billy) that Johnny is the one who gives the trophy to Daniel with his famous line, “You’re alright, LaRusso.” There’s a level of grudging respect in that moment that isn’t lost on anyone who sees that movie- that Johnny, who throughout the movie only sees Daniel as some whimpy kid, gets proven wrong and respects that. If we didn’t have that scene, there’s reason to believe Johnny would have apologized, tried to make amends, Something, even if it was just being less of a dick at school.

But then, we get the parking lot. We get a far off shot, intended to distance you from the scene, framed over Daniel’s shoulder. This makes sense, Daniel is the main character, the protagonist, the underdog hero- why wouldn’t it be framed in his perspective? But the scene is about Johnny. We get the shouting match, the back and forth- “No, you’re the loser man.”- and again it’s fairly obvious how Johnny sees this situation. This is a man who we assume(and is later confirmed) to be a surrogate father figure, who set his friend up for failure, and then basically forced him to do the same by targeting an injured opponent, and forcing him to fight without honor. This same man presumably follows a teenager out to the parking lot, to harass him, to tell him he’s off the team, to tell him he’s a loser, that he’s nothing.

But at that point, Johnny knows the truth, even if subconsciously. At the end of the day Johnny knows that Daniel LaRusso was a worthy opponent, and that regardless of the cheating and manipulation, Daniel could have won anyway, and did win, despite of it.

And then Kreese grabs him, too fast to react to, Johnny too surprised even knowing that Kreese is the bad guy here, not believing that he would ever willingly hurt him- and Johnny isn’t strong enough to fight him off, none of the boys are, so Johnny is forced to suffocate for almost a full 30 seconds(which I double checked for the record- also as a reference, 30 seconds is about the average time it takes for a person voluntarily holding their breath to pass out- this does not account for the oxygen lost during a struggle, and the lack of preparation from both surprise and panic. The only silver lining here is the fact that Kreese was most likely compressing his windpipe, not his jugular, which would have made him pass out in about 5-10 seconds, and would have caused permanent brain damage or death in about 15).

Now, PTSD is a complex thing. I’m not a psychiatrist, and what small amount of information we have is all we have to work off of, but I feel fairly comfortable in saying Johnny mostly likely developed it after the incident. This not an uncommon take in the fandom as far as I’m aware either. But, if we assume this, we also have to assume that after the fact nothing would have been done about this. Not just in the sense that we still don’t really know everything that happened right after the tournament, but that in the early 80s, PTSD wasn’t really a thing yet.

Sure it was absolutely a condition that existed, but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn’t even added to the DSM-III until 1980- and for a long time afterward, was only seen as a condition that affected primarily war vets. Even after an event as traumatic as having a man you considered a father trying to kill you, in public, without remorse, would not have been seen as something to warrant the diagnoses, let alone treatment.

Johnny Lawrence was 17 when Kreese tried to kill him, and this boy would have been offered no resources beyond filing charges with the police. And as we see in KK3, either this didn’t happen either, or someone(presumably Silver) got the charges dropped. So on top of almost being murdered, Johnny had to live with the fact that the man who did that to him was still out there, and to top it off, still ran a dojo at least for a few months after the event. The only relief he could have gotten is after Kreese faked his death.

And sure, Mr Miyagi may have gotten Kreese to let go eventually, but as several people have pointed out in comments and tags, left him and the other boys alone with Kreese still standing there in the parking lot and just... drove off. Kreese has already been established to be a psycho with no problem hurting children, a little bit of glass might not have prevented him from trying again.

So why did I talk about all of that? Because it all contributes to why Daniel LaRusso works as a credible antagonist in season 1 of Cobra Kai.

Think about this- Johnny blames losing everything on Daniel in season 1, but we specifically get a shot in KK1 and later KK2(”You’re alright, LaRusso” and “I did my best” come to mind) where he seems to be at least mostly accepting of the fact that he lost(with what was actually an illegal kick but that’s a rant for another time). So why does he blame him for everything 30 years later?

Because 30 years later, Johnny is forced to go outside, go to work, and pretend like he doesn’t see what feels like every street corner(including right outside his apartment mind you), a literal billboard sized reminder of what happened to him.

The rest of this is mostly speculation but it makes sense in my head so bear with me.

When we get introduced to Robby, it’s made pretty clear that Johnny has not been in his life for a bit. In season 2 we get Johnny’s heart to heart with Miguel, where he divulges that he missed the birth, because he spiraled after his mom’s death. This however doesn’t suggest that he stayed gone, especially knowing that it wasn’t long enough for Robby to not consider seeking out his dad. Because tacked up to the fridge, is a picture of Robby in his soccer uniform as a kid. It’s an early detail you can see in previous episodes, and says a lot about how Robby grew up. To be fair, this could have been given to him by Shannon, and not taken himself, but it’s the sport Robby’s playing that makes me question this. KK1 dedicates an entire scene to Johnny being on the soccer team in high school. Soccer, while maybe not as important to him as karate, is still part of his character. Robby does not know karate in season 1, Johnny obviously didn’t share it with him, but that doesn’t mean Johnny didn’t share anything with him.

So Johnny’s back in his kids life, maybe doing better for himself, maybe cutting back on the drinking. LaRusso Auto is already established to exist at this point but it’s in Encino, a place Johnny has no reason to go to, and probably doesn’t want to. He’s trying again and things are okay. But Robby knows enough about Daniel to know that going to him will piss off his dad. So Johnny had to have talked about him at some point. The billboards here are what’s important- they’re in the first episode, the first scene montage, Johnny draws a dick on one of them as some petty revenge.

The first billboard goes up in the late 2000s to mid 2010s. Johnny sees it, maybe he has Robby with him at the time, maybe he goes home and says something there, but he says something in a way that sticks with even a child as being important. More billboards go up. Dealerships starting popping up more and more. Daniel’s face, and by extension, the memories, the flashbacks, become inescapable. Johnny, for a third time, spirals again. Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s lost his relationship with his son. And it’s all Daniel’s fault. Of course Daniel doesn’t do it deliberately, but the constant reminders are enough to send him back into a tailspin and Johnny blames him for it.

Because it’s Daniel who is a constant reminder of his failures- it’s Daniel who caused him to lose the tournament and almost get killed, Daniel who put up the billboards that trigger his flashbacks, it’s always Daniel Daniel Daniel.

And then Johnny gets it in his head that he wants to be better. He opens a dojo, teaches Miguel and the other kids, wants to try again- and he almost succeeds.

Johnny up to this point has not deliberately antagonized Daniel in any way. Sure he named the dojo Cobra Kai, but Cobra Kai is all he knows. Besides Johnny doesn’t blame karate for his failures, his best memories are Cobra Kai and he’s trying to be better than Kreese. So what’s the harm in this really? His building is in Reseda, there’s no reason for Daniel to ever be there, he doesn’t do it out of spite, it’s because he lives there and rent is cheap. He doesn’t know about KK3, doesn’t know about Daniel’s own trauma. This isn’t an attack. Johnny sincerely just doesn’t know.

Enter Daniel, stage left. Daniel makes no attempt to talk to him- he simply makes demands and accusations, before he starts making active attempts to put him out of business.

Sure, we as the audience know Daniel has good reasons to not want Cobra Kai back. But Johnny doesn’t. All Johnny knows is that the kid he picked on in high school- who won, who got everything Johnny wanted, who grew up to be successful, has a wonderful wife, two kids who love him, a thriving business- is doing everything he can to make his life hell 30 years after the fact.

And this could only have happened because in 1986 John G. Avildsen decided to add in a scene meant for the original movie into the sequel, for absolutely no fucking reason.

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 3 [read on ao3] [co-written with @darkmagyk]

Several more weeks and hookups later, Annabeth thinks she should probably come clean. Some people might bury it deep, and for sure, Annabeth’s considered it, but, well. It is kind of embarrassing that she didn’t know Percy’s name at first. Stuff like that doesn’t usually bother her--she’s had nameless one night stands in the past, and despite Thalia’s ribbing, she knows that Thalia doesn’t really care either. It’s just that, you know, he’s Thalia’s family, and they’ve seen each other a few more times, and they are planning to continue to see each other a few more times in the future. Or more than a few times. 

Anyway, she kind of feels like she owes it to him. Like he deserves this small nugget of truth, payment for all the times he’s fucked her blind. It’s nagging at her, and she hates feeling like she owes anyone anything. 

Piper certainly seemed to think so, when Annabeth had told her over their monthly brunch date.

“It’s just common courtesy at this point,” she said. “Like, what if you guys end up married and then sell your story to Hollywood, they cast my dad as the male lead, and it comes out in interviews that you didn’t know his name for like a month? He’s gonna get the wrong idea.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure which part was more ridiculous: the movie, Piper’s dad being involved, or them being married.

Anyway, sharing some of her avocado fries, Piper had reminded her that being mean wasn't very punk rock, shutting her up effectively.

She’s out on site in the Lower East Side, taking measurements for plots of land, writing down sun angles and measuring the wind velocity between the brick buildings, when she gets a text from him. 

I’m on a break and I’m starving 😩 Want to grab something to eat?

It’s 2pm on a Thursday and he wants to grab something to eat. If Annabeth didn’t know any better, she’d say that that sounds like a real, honest-to-goodness, bona fide date. (Meeting up at and subsequently leaving bars together does not count as a date, she’s pretty sure. Neither do the booty calls.) He’s been getting a little free with his texts, that boy, sending her selfies and memes and questions about her day, and now this? An invitation to their first, actual date? She should block him on principle, just for the sheer audacity.

sure, wya

520 8th, text me when you get here 😁

That’s another thing: Percy loves his emojis. If this is going to continue, they’re going to need to have a serious talk about that. 

She doesn’t need to text him when she gets there; he’s already outside, leaning on the stone edifice of the building like a particularly jacked rent boy in his tight t-shirt and broody look, cigarette between his fingers. The sweatpants sort of ruin the image, though. He looks particularly comfortable in a way that warms Annabeth right from the inside out. “You know, when Nico said you smoked, I honestly didn’t believe it.” she says, not even bothering to say hi. 

He looks up from his phone and smiles, the sun behind his teeth. “Hey!” 

“Hey, yourself.” She doesn’t even hesitate--she plucks the cigarette out of his hand, taking a drag off it herself. “You been smoking for a long time?”

“Who do you think taught Thalia how?” He raises an eyebrow, bemused. “Is that a problem?”

It is, but it’s not like she can tell him that without losing some of her credibility. “Wouldn’t smoking fuck with your cardio?”

Percy shrugs, conceding. “A little. I used to be a lot worse, but I just can’t quite kick the habit. It’s mostly a stress thing, anyway.” 

“Rough practice?” she asks, putting just enough effort into her lip wobble to make it abundantly clear that she’s making fun of him. “Were the other boys being mean to you because of your tights?”

He grins at her, saucy. “Annabeth Chase, do you really think that NYCB rehearses here? In the Garment District?” But he laughs before she can stammer out an answer (and thank God, she’s lived here three years and can barely keep the boroughs straight, let alone the neighborhoods). “I just wrapped up teaching a class. I don’t have to be at rehearsal until 5, I was thinking we could hang out? Bryant Park?”

A first date at the New York Public Library. She almost hates to admit it, but Percy Jackson might be kind of her dream man. “I believe I was promised food,” she sniffs, but she does hold out her hand, and when he takes it, lacing his fingers through hers, she’s sure that he can feel her heart beating, palm to palm. 

Twenty minutes later they’re settled on a bench in the corner of the green, Annabeth halfway into a ham sandwich and Percy juggling a salad and an iced coffee. He’s been regaling her with tales from the more exciting side of ballet, a side she hadn’t even imagined could actually exist. “So by the time I land in Paris,” he says, taking a sip of coffee, “the guy’s foot has swollen up to, like, twice its original size, and when I finally managed to find some wifi to check my phone, there’s, like, eight missed calls from my mom and my agent, and an email from her that just says ‘READ THIS,’ in all caps, and of course the article is in French, which I didn’t really speak at the time, and I was so stressed that my ADHD made it so I couldn’t even read the Google translation, and I had to ask someone to translate it for me.”

“Oh my god,” she says, struggling to keep it in.

“And that’s how I found out that I’d been moved up to first cast in Le Corsaire, from the poor barista at a coffee shop in Charles de Gaule!” He laughs. 

“That’s insane,” Annabeth says. “And the show was the next day?”

“It was that night! I had to haul ass to the opera house and get warmed up, because I was going on in about four hours. You should have seen the looks on everyone’s faces when I stumbled in, I’m sure that they all wanted to kill me.” Percy chuckles, taking a bite of leafy greens. “Now I wasn’t just the twenty-year-old upstart American, I was the twenty-year-old upstart American who skipped town when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“How did it go?”

“Killed it, of course,” he says, deservedly smug. 

Despite her best efforts, she’s absolutely entranced; he’s a great storyteller. “I bet you break that story out at parties all the time, don’t you.”

He laughs. “Whatever gets the donors to open their checkbooks, right?”

“I can’t believe you lived in Paris. I’ve always wanted to see it.” She’d had a few chances to when she was in college, the semester she’d studied abroad in Rome, but she just never got around to it. Just another item on her long, long list of regrets, placed somewhere between the sketchy burrito from last week and not telling her mom to fuck off earlier when she’d had the chance. “If I were you, I’d never leave.”

Percy shrugs. “It was amazing, I won’t lie. But towards the end I just really, really missed it here. All my family is in NYC, you know? My mom, step-dad, and my sister live here, and Thalia and Nico and Hazel, too. I tried to come back and visit whenever I could, but being away from them was really hard.” There’s something soft and inviting in his expression when he says, “I’m really happy to be back home.”

“What are they like?” Annabeth asks. “Your family. Your non-mob family, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes, but he grins another one of those blinding grins, too. “My mom is the most amazing person you will ever meet. Not only did she support my dance habit, she did it as a single working mother who had to raise an angry, ADHD asshole of a son who didn’t always appreciate her. I don’t even want to know how many hours she had to work or how many scholarships and grants she had to track down in order to pay for me to go to SAB, but somehow she made it work, and managed to write her novel at the same time. She married my step-dad the summer I turned sixteen, and my baby sister was born the next year.” 

Even Annabeth, cynical and black-hearted as she is, has to smile back. The love he has for his mom is so palpable, so tangible, she can practically see him glowing. “And the…” What had Thalia called them? “The ‘Cousin Consortium’?” 

At that, Percy laughs, full-bellied, unrestrained. “The name was Nico’s idea. I didn’t really have many close friends when I was a kid, apart from my buddy Grover--he had to wear this really gnarly leg brace and I liked to dance, so you can imagine how much we got picked on--but we were all really close growing up, since our dads were all assholes. They may have left us emotionally scarred, but at least we had each other’s backs the whole time.”

This is a very Percy thing, she’s starting to realize: he can not and will not hold back on his feelings. He simply refuses to. Where most guys might try to hide or downplay their affection for their friends, Percy’s is written all over his face. Maybe it’s a byproduct of doing ballet, but he’s so unashamed of his love for his friends and his family and his art, that maybe Annabeth kind of wishes she could be included in that love too, if it always feels this warm and joyful. 

“I think it’s amazing that you guys are so close. I only had the one cousin when I was growing up, and we didn’t really talk all that much,” Annabeth says, almost without her permission. Something about him, it’s just so easy to talk to him. He makes it safe to open up.

“The med school guy, right?” 

Annabeth nods. “Magnus. Fifth generation Harvard student. We’re all very proud.” 

Ugh. Even she has to wince at the false cheer in her voice. Percy gives her a half-smile, sympathetic and soft. “Harvard not really for you, then?” he asks, picking up the threads of a long and complicated story, and one that she absolutely does not want to get into right now. Or ever, if she can help it. 

“More like I wasn’t really for Harvard.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had been good enough for the university in Cambridge, Mass--good enough for two degrees and graduation with honors--but she had never been good enough for her mother’s capital-H Harvard. Never good enough for her mother at all, really. 

Percy takes her hand. His fingers are cold from his iced coffee. “Hey. It’s their loss,” he says, with a sincerity and an intensity that makes her blush.

Every part of her wants to pull away. His thumb is rubbing against the joint of her finger, soothing and sweet, and she thinks she may break out in hives from it. “Damn right it is,” she mumbles. 

He is so nice. So nice and hot and sweet. Objectively, what she’s about to do is a terrible idea, and might torpedo a really good thing that they have, but if she doesn’t come clean now her own guilt is going to drive her insane.

“Okay, I have a confession to make.” Percy raises his eyebrows, slurping the last dregs of his drink. “When we met… and then when we hooked up the first time… I may have… thoughtyouwereJason.”

He blinks. “Pardon?” he asks, mumbled around the straw.

Annabeth buries her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You… thought I was Jason?”

“Well,” she sputters, glaring at him through her fingers, “you were being all bro-y with Thalia!”

He is valiantly trying to hold in a smile. “You know, I distinctly remember telling you my name that morning.”

“I was really hungover,” she whines, “and you were shirtless and making breakfast so I wasn’t really… paying attention.”

“For a whole week?”

This is so embarrassing, why couldn’t she just keep her stupid mouth shut? “Yeah.” She slumps her shoulders, stuffing her hands into her jacket pocket. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely sure what she expected: at best a couple of weird looks and a tentative promise to meet up later that would end up not working out, at worst she thinks he’ll just get up and leave her here at Bryant Park. Either way, they’d be doomed to months of awkward interactions, until eventually they wouldn’t be able to be around each other, and Thalia would have to pick a side--and Annabeth’s seen what Thalia does to people who cross her family. She’s seen Thalia beat a dude to pulp for calling Nico the f-slur. Picking Percy over Annabeth? That’s nothing.

So when he starts laughing, Annabeth is completely at a loss. Slowly, at first, then all at once, he’s laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and he has to put down his salad so it doesn’t topple over onto the grass. His head is tilted back in joy, the grey, late afternoon light adamant that Annabeth can see all of his features clearly, from his screwed up eyes to his bright, white teeth to the single dimple in his cheek.

Of course, even his laughter is hot. Asshole. 

“You thought I was Jason!” He shrieks.

Annabeth crosses her arms, scowling. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he giggles. Annabeth can feel her own giggle rising in response, and she ruthlessly quashes it. “I can definitely say I’ve never heard that one before. You do know Jason is blond, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I did not. Besides, you and Thalia look exactly alike.”

He scoffs. “No we don’t.”

“Uh, yeah you do. You, Thalia, and Nico are all basically clones of each other.” 

“Okay, Captain Glasses, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth feels like she has to say again.

He cocks his head. “For what? For thinking I was Jason? He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“No, for,” she blushes again. All this blood rushing to her head can’t be good for her. “For sleeping with you when I still thought you were Jason.”

Percy scoots closer to her, throwing her a grin and slinging his arm over her shoulders. Without even realizing that she’s doing it, she settles in beside him like she’s been doing it her whole life, slotted up against his torso, tucking her booted feet beneath her legs. “I am choosing to take that as a compliment,” he says, smirking. “You couldn’t resist my charms, even when you thought I was a brogrammer.” 

Annabeth can’t help herself. She kisses him, wiping that smug grin right off his face, and when she finally retreats, after what feels like hours, he looks so dazed she could probably keep calling him by any name she wanted and he wouldn’t even realize it.

After their lunch, they meander for hours, headed in a vaguely southerly direction, holding hands the whole time, a steady, uninterrupted flow that took them all the way from Midtown to Greenwich Village. He tells her about his first day at ballet school; she tells him about her favorite monuments. “There are two architectural environments in America,” she says, ranting, speaking with enough force that she might forget the feeling of his hand in hers, “endless dead suburbia, or cities where every single building is either a concrete or a glass block--and not even Brutalist concrete, just shitty, poorly designed, paint-by-numbers concrete. It is an absolute travesty of modern government that they don’t fund any public works projects anymore.”

“That’s why all the gardens and stuff?” he asks.

“Nowadays everything is built by the lowest bidder. At least I get to add some beauty back into the city.”

“I know what you mean,” Percy says. “Paris is practically overflowing with public works, you almost forget about it sometimes.”

She sighs. “You’re so fucking lucky. Paris is so beautiful and everything in New York is just hideous.”

“Aw, come on,” he says. “Not everything. What about the Empire State Building, or Central Park?”

“Well, obviously, those,” she says, just a teensy bit flustered, but she’s not about to give up the argument without a fight. “I just mean like, normal, every day buildings: offices and apartments and stuff. It’s all so samey and boring.”

He looks to her right, pointing at the building they are passing. “What about this one?”

She turns.

If she had known they were headed this way, she never would have taken them past here.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” she mumbles, staring up at the arched windows, pedimented doors, and Rococo details of Miss Minerva’s Private Pre-College Prep School. A shudder goes down her spine, like someone walking over her grave. “There are better Beaux-Arts buildings.”

Sensing her discomfort, he picks up the pace, and changes the subject.

Finally, he stops outside a nondescript building, turning to face her. “This is me,” he says, a little bit mournfully, squeezing her hand. “Are you okay to get home safely?”

This man is ridiculous; it’s not even dark out. “I think I can manage a few blocks,” she says, lightly swatting him. “Isn’t it kind of early for you, though? It’s only four o’clock.”

He flushes faintly, one hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Uh, well, I always give myself a little extra time--you know, time blindness and everything.”

“You baked in extra time in case I wanted you to walk me home, didn’t you?” She mock-gasps, secretly delighted. “Scandal!”

“Guilty,” he grins. “You’ve been to mine so many times, I was curious.”

She just barely stops herself from laughing out loud at the very idea of Percy coming to her apartment--as if. Thalia hasn’t even been to her apartment. Nobody knows where she lives, none of her neighbors know who she is, and this is entirely by design. “Cut me some slack; a girl’s gotta have some mystery. Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

“I have a feeling you’ll never make things easy for me,” he says, white teeth gleaming.

“You better believe it,” she smiles back. “Now that I’ve foiled your plans, are you going to be too bored?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he shrugs. “I’m very resourceful when it comes to boredom.”

Inspiration strikes, and she grasps his hand, pulling him down the alleyway. She almost hates to admit it, but she has something of a Pavlovian response when it comes to hanging out with Percy. Annabeth has come to expect some really excellent sex whenever the two of them meet up, and maybe spending all afternoon with him has made her a little bit horny. 

She presses him up against the brick wall, hidden from the street by the long afternoon shadows, and kisses him. His hands flounder for a second, before coming up to rest on her shoulders, this thumbs tapping against the base of her neck, fingers fluttering on her jacket. It’s an intimate touch, kind of chaste and very respectful, and he holds her with precision and grace. He wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t want to. This is a date with no expectation of sex on his part. But Annabeth does not want grace right now, spooked by the ghost of her old school. She does not want precision. She just wants him. She just wants to keep him on his toes, keep him interested, blow his mind a little. 

She just wants to blow him, to be honest. 

He squeaks into her mouth as her hands fly to his belt, deft fingers practically ripping it off of him in an increasingly familiar motion. “H-hey,” he says, squeezing her shoulders, “this is--”

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, one hand playing at the top line of his underwear. 

“No--I mean, are you sure? I’m-I’m okay with this, I just want to--”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek, then drops to her knees. “But we’ve got some time to kill, don’t we.” 

Afterwards, when she’s finished with him, Annabeth wipes her mouth, and he whimpers. 

“Ho… holy shit,” he pants, flushed and trembling. 

She tucks him back into his boxers, doing up his fly. “There we go. That was better than being bored, right?”

He nods wordlessly, swallowing, shaking. His eyes are glassy and glazed, stupid like he’s just shot out his brain through his dick.

In the short time they’ve been together (though, honestly, this might be the longest relationship she’s ever been in before… and they haven’t even broached the “dating” conversation yet) Annabeth has been on the receiving end of several different Percy looks. His face will light up with joy when he first lays his eyes on her, so happy to see her (though she can’t really fathom why), glinting like the sun on the water. His eyes will narrow, glaring, even as he furiously tamps down on his growing smile when they start arguing over something stupid, like Annabeth’s affinity for olives. He’ll grin at her, knife sharp and slanted, licking his lips and looming over her after she comes down from yet another orgasm via his mouth or his hands.

Percy looks at her now like someone took a bat to his head, and instead of seeing stars, he sees little miniature Annabeths flying around. 

He pulls her to him and kisses her, entirely too sweet for what she’s just done to him, but that is also a very Percy thing. And when she leaves him with a final kiss on his cheek and squeeze of his ass, she can feel that look burning a hole through her jacket, following her down the alley and around the corner, and she finds that she doesn’t mind the weight of it at all.

[revasnaslan]

I'll be honest about Annilis, I love him and his sympathetic background AS well as his awful approach to keeping Hec-tor safe, because he's probably in some legitimate danger but he took it too far. I love HP, but I also wanna beat his ass too. Just grab him by the ears and yell, "What are you doing you idiot sandwich?!" I just wanna ask him "Are you even happy? And no getting pegged by a Shade isn't happiness." Don't want him to die though, only because it's a cop-out for actual punishment.1/2

2/2 That's what kinda bummed me on HP in-show, he did so much horrible shit, was an arrogant living "God", and he was just killed? That easy? HP's hubris was grotesque and he deserved a worse punishment than just a lightshow to the face. HP was also a non character in the end and whatever characterization he did have was lost quickly, gonna admit. But, an arrogant jerk dying that quickly is too easy a punishment, he has to suffer the consequences of his actions and experience his loss in detail.

sorry I'm sending you so many asks about HP. But dear God did the show drop the ball on Horde "supposedly endgame villain who was woefully underutilized until the last minute and even then was handed the villain ball to make sure what credibility he did have was lost" Prime. Could have been great, his story was there, but Crew-ra wasted time on frivolous characters(star siblings might have been cool but s5 needed to work on its existing characters, not introduce new ones)and wasted plot points.

I actually have done a ton of analysis on why prime just doesn’t work as a villain for pretty much six months now. Like I started doing this pretty much the day that the finale dropped cause I never liked S5 at all. There’s just much wrong with it, strictly from a narrative prospective than I cannot get over it, which I why I’ve kind of retreated into doing Fuck Canon aus. And I don’t think the major problems plaguing prime is that he’s a bad person or a cult leader or whatever, that would be fine. This is a matter of set up and pay off. This is a matter of narrative structure. Those are my major problems with everything about this.

Anyway, I guess we’ll try a flaccid attempt at positivity, just to make it clear that I am not coming strictly from a point of view of hate… the one thing I remember liking about prime is that creepy dinner scene. Loved that scene, I was so giddy when they dropped it as a teaser clip, and I got to enjoy it in peace for like a day and a half before my love for the show went crumbling. Prime is absolutely on his game in that scene, I can very clearly see his mind working, because my interpretation of the scene is that he’s trying to bait glimmer into giving him information. Did he actually intend to harm adora? Who knows! Does it matter? Not really, considering he got the information he wanted, which was what was needed to work the heart. I can feel the tension in that scene, that is how he should have been for the rest of the season.

So what the fuck happened? *cracks knuckles* well let’s see shall we.

Foreshadowing It’s Fun Cause It’s A Thing I’ve Heard Of

So I think we all remember just how shocking it was when prime actually showed up, and he wasn’t anything like we’d all come to assume he’d be based on what had been said about him up until that point. What we had been fed was essentially that he was cold, calculating, and didn’t look upon “defects” well. He saw the clones as disposable. And they set up that aspect of his character just fine, and I don’t have a problem with how that was set up.

What they utterly failed to properly set up (and even contradicted themselves on) was the cult thing, and how prime is essentially this messiah figure to the clones. I highly suspect this occurred because they were writing the show as they went along, and hadn’t fully fleshed out prime’s whole deal until he actually appeared at the end of S4, but that’s just my own speculation given some of the things that had been said in interviews regarding other aspects of the writing (namely that micah was apparently not supposed to be alive in the first place and that happened because of a miscommunication between noelle and one of the other writers).

Regardless, there are a number of things that should probably have been done differently in order to properly foreshadow prime’s cult leader status, that actually would have heightened hordak’s characterization as well. For one thing, there’s a reason we all assumed that the galactic horde was merely a military program and it’s because of how hordak acts throughout the first four seasons. We can talk in circles about headcanons until we’re blue in the face (i.e., he might have memory problems), but the fact of the matter is that those are headcanons and that hordak’s entire narrative changes from one of an ableist family to one of a religious trauma seemingly on a dime come the very end of S4 when prime shows up.

imagine how satisfying the foreshadowing would have been if hordak had actually been spouting dogma the entire show (i.e., “cast out the shadows” and “all beings must suffer to become pure”) only for it peter off once he’s befriended entrapta, if he had been calling those who he respected brother/sister instead of force captains (which is a far more militarized word to use, and judging by the galactic horde isn’t even a term they use), if he had still been dressed in his uniform and only actually started dressing differently after entrapta had helped him? Hell, he never even so much as implies that entrapta is leading him astray before he’s back with prime, he doesn’t even seem particularly distressed about being around her most of the time, and the only reason he even gets persnickety with her is because of his medical condition.

One point I’m going to expand on for a moment is the whole “brother” thing, because that is actually a very good way of explaining what I mean. Now, hordak doesn’t actually mention any other clones at all from what I remember. This is contrary to all of the clones in S5 referring to each other as “brother” pretty openly and it being seen as a term of respect. However, the only person that hordak actually calls “brother” up until S5 is prime, and this inadvertently ended up making the word seem far more neutral than it should have been considering the context of S5. The word “brother” is actually a control tool, and if they had wanted to establish that sooner, hordak should have been calling anybody he respected that.

So, either the writers hadn’t actually thought of that part of the narrative yet, or they’re just that bad at foreshadowing.

There are also three instances of the narrative contradicting itself with regards to prime, one in S3, one in S4, and one in S5. The first is that hordak wanted to make a new body for himself. While one could argue that this was meant to be foreshadowing that prime takes new bodies whenever his old one failed (which is fine, that works as foreshadowing), the act of hordak admitting that he was intending to do that is what actually creates the snag. With the context of S5, we learn that becoming a vessel is meant to be a place of honor, but this comes with the caveat that it seems like only prime is allowed to take new bodies. So why the ever living fuck would someone as “pious” and “unworthy” as hordak think that was something he could ever be allowed to do, much less that prime would welcome him back with open arms if he did it. But there’s zero hesitation on hordak’s part, he doesn’t even mention that this is something usually only reserved for prime.

The second is that prime literally looked at the heart of etheria and said it was “unlike anything [he had] ever seen” despite canonically fighting the first ones, so he’d presumably have recognized the energy signature that first one’s tech gives off and be like Oh Shit. This one in particular drives me absolutely nuts because if I was writing a villain who had lived long enough to fight the people this mystical weapon was created by I would never write them saying that what the actual fuck. My gripe here is not that prime is ancient, that’s fine, I could’ve vibed with that. But the fact that he not only fought the first ones but also recognized mara is really egregious in a way that borders on parody for me. Like what a flimsy excuse for him to be connected to adora (and we’ll get to that!)

The third and final one is that hordak was allegedly thrown out for his defects. That’s what we were told, that’s what a major facet of hordak’s trauma is centered around. However, at the same times, prime seems like… oddly fixated on hordak in a way that usually implies something deeper is going on here. That was why I was so convinced that hordak wasn’t remembering something clearly, because why would prime spare him instead of killing him immediately after returning if he was defective enough to warrant being thrown out? Come S5, prime seems to have forgotten about the pesky little plot detail that is hordak’s defects, since they never come up again! Nope! Hordak is not only completely healed of his ailments (which Can I Get A Yikes?) but he’s also been welcomed back to his original position as prime’s right hand by the mid-point of the season, and he stays there until the finale unless the plot demands he be elsewhere to interact with entrapta cause hordak was added in post. You can’t even argue that he was keeping hordak alive because eThErIaN kNoWlEdGe because he has those fucking mind chips. Literally every single person he’s chipped is connected to the hivemind because of that. He’d have every single bit of knowledge that he could possibly want right there at his fingertips. He doesn’t need hordak alive at all.

Which brings us to…

It’s Almost Like He Wasn’t A Villain To The Proper People

The thing about villains is that, in order for them to not feel out of place, in order for their defeat to actually give a true feeling of satisfaction, you kind of have to put them up against the right people. The reason that prime ultimately fails in this respect is that he is not adora and catra’s villain, despite the narrative pushing him as that…

I actually once joked on twitter that if the rise of skywalker had come out when S5 was being written, then prime would have likely ended up being revealed as adora’s long lost grandfather in some attempt to make his fixation on her seem warranted. That’s the level we’re at in terms of how connected the two of them appear to be for the villain and hero thing. They just are not connected, and prime has absolutely no reason to be this fixated on her. They tried to explain it with she ra and prime being old enemies, but that’s equally as confusing because a) mara hadn’t mentioned him up until that point, b) this inclusion actually makes the first ones creating a superweapon look justified since prime is such a huge threat, and c) she ra is explicitly stated to have been on etheria long before the first ones even colonized it, so why the fuck is she just gallivanting around the cosmos fighting cult leaders?

And to be clear, if this whole prime versus she ra had actually been hinted at, I would not be taking so much issue with this. But as there was absolutely zero mention of him, it just comes off as egregious and very, very sloppy on their parts.

Prime also should not be as fixated on catra as he is, that doesn’t make sense at all. I know why this happened in particular, though, and it’s because the writing team was so in love with her that they just had to give her this arc. That just makes its inclusion all the worse to be honest. Why does he go to such great lengths to use catra to torture adora, why does he go into a total breakdown after catra escapes? He isn’t connected to either of them…

… because he is hordak and entrapta’s villain.

that prime didn’t immediately want entrapta dead continues to confuse me to this day, nearly seven months after the fact. Like you mean to tell me that this cult leader, who is presumably used to complete obedience from his followers, finds one of the wayward members of his proverbial flock lost on some backwater, who didn’t want to be found, and he knows exactly who is responsible for sewing those seeds of discord in this poor lamb’s head. And he doesn’t immediately want entrapta dead?

Not only does prime never mention her, despite it being very easy to push a plotline about how it’s necessary because she’s perceived as a danger to the rest, and especially to the poor lost soul who was ultimately returned to him. Instead, prime just doesn’t seem to realize entrapta exists. He doesn’t know who she is despite literally reading hordak’s mind. He doesn’t even seem to interpret her as threat considering he wasn’t worried about putting her and hordak right next to each other in the finale. He should have been using hordak to torture entrapta, and he should have had his break because hordak escaped him. That whole scene where catra is under mind control and adora was trying to snap her out of it was textbook entrapdak. Hordak should have been the one to delve into the hivemind to help adora. It was his story and it was taken from him when he was sacrificed on catra’s narrative arc altar.

And this is ultimately completely fixable. Because they had a villain they could have been using for adora and catra the whole time. Shadow Weaver. Y’know, their mutual abuser who was the main cause of strife between the two of them, and the person who kind of set the plot in motion since she’s the reason catra is the way that she is?

He Blew It. Super Hard. Complete Buffoonery.

Ultimately one of the biggest writing fumbles with prime is that he is just really fucking dumb as the plot demands, and it doesn’t make any kind of narrative sense for him to be that way, it is literally just him being at the mercy of the writers who need him to do something stupid so they can push the plot forward since they made him too overpowered for it to happen any other way.

There’s numerous instances of this across the season, including him bringing entrapta aboard the velvet glove when the very person he would have had very good reason to not let her near is standing right there, and him deciding to give catra pretty much free reign of the velvet glove and seeming to decide to trust her despite him knowing damn well that she’s likely to betray him the second he does something she doesn’t like, and the time he literally left adora to be beaten by catra instead of just killing her outright when she couldn’t even activate she ra. And in all these cases he had the fucking nerve to seem surprised when it happened?

However, there is one plot point that I feel illustrates how goddamn stupid he is to move the plot forward, and it’s the mind chips.

I mean one of the reasons I dislike it is going back to how little foreshadowing the writers actually seem capable of committing to. There is nothing to indicate in the narrative that prime actually employs mind control on anybody besides the clones, and this becomes especially egregious when we later meet the star siblings, and we find out that there are large swathes of the universe that are seemingly not chipped? It just screams like they needed some type of angst plot point for catra, so they had to find a way to make it work.

But the very inclusion of the mind chips as a plot point makes prime look so ridiculously dumb, because we are told those chips connect people to the hivemind, we are explicitly shown this for catra angst. So a) why does he need hordak around at all, because the excuse he needs to know about etheria doesn’t work since he literally chips like half of the etherian population later on anyway, b) if he needed information on the heart of etheria, why didn’t he just chip glimmer outright, it would have saved him a lot of time and hassle, and c) if he knew damn well that catra had betrayed hordak numerous times and was likely to do the same to him, why didn’t he just immediately chip her so he could mitigate two problems. If he had chipped catra immediately, he wouldn’t have lost glimmer, and it would have been next to impossible for adora and bow to storm the velvet glove through the means that they did.

When your main villain is that fucking stupid, the tension is completely sapped out of your narrative, and prime doesn’t have enough character unto himself to continue holding up his own arc. He is a sexy lamp cardboard cutout that just happens to be brought onto the scene when they were in need of someone to throw the idiot ball at. Prime is supposed to be this thousand year old body hopper who has the wisdom of the ages, and yet he was defeat by a group of teenagers driving a clown card held together by nothing but duct tape and prayers.

Anyway!

Guess Who Just Got Murdered!

Anon, I completely agree that the way prime got taken out was just… hm. Well, it was a choice, given how they had written the rest of the season.

I’ve said this before, but I really wish I could actually enjoy hordak yeeting him, but I just don’t feel anything. That scene is a culmination of an arc that never happened because hordak was barely on screen for S5. It feels like we’re missing this whole season-long arc about how hordak managed to break free of prime and was actively working against him, and that scene is the lowest point, right before the greater scope villain is ultimately defeated by the protagonist. Which just furthers my point that prime is really hordak’s villain, because hordak reads more like a protagonist than I think the writers actually intended for him to.

Since you mentioned anillis, I feel the need to comment on him as well, because I do know exactly what happens to him at the end of my au, because I actually planned for his ending from the beginning and built his arc towards that point. The very bare bones spoilers is that he isn’t going to die, because a) he needs to live with the consequences of his actions and b) him dying would affect hec-tor horribly, especially since if anybody had to deal the killing blow it would be hec-tor. And hec-tor doesn’t deserve to be forced to do that. He wants freedom, he doesn’t want his brother dead by his own hand.

So, I completely agree that just killing prime off feels a little… like a cop out? I’m not going to get into a discussion of how he was defeated by the power of (romantic) love because my issue there is not with the trope itself, but ultimately how it was handled, and that also has to do more with my grievances with how catradora was ultimately handled than my grievances with prime. However, him being like… exorcised…

Well it sure does clean up some loose ends that we don’t want to discuss huh?

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter Five: THE INFINITY WARDROBE

Three dances.

He could do this.

He hated that he  had  to do this, but he could. The taste of alcohol on his tongue, its burn at the back of his throat... they were tempting, but he knew better than to rely on them. He never tasted any that he hadn't seen served himself, and in a function such as this one, it meant he had only ever carried a single glass throughout.

His lips pinched together, remember the last time he'd forgotten to keep a close eye on his drinks.

A cold grip closed over his guts. Nope. He shouldn't go there. Not the right time. Every notable noble in the kingdom was watching his every move.

Warriors had busied himself teaching his brothers how to best deal with the nobility at his Queen's gala for the past two days. He could say he was proud of Hyrule's and Wind's progress in particular. Neither had had much manners or interest in them before and not one lady had fainted from their crude or frank behaviors. He also had to admire Four's control in accepting the few pinches on the cheeks he got for being so fun-sized.

  I'll give him a bigger part in our next plans of attack. That's a ton of resentment to vent. Whatever monster we face next will be very dead.

“And I was just telling our dear Hero Link here how-” Lady Farosi bragged to Lord this and Lady that and Warriors carefully agreed at all the right places.

He used to like these things. Used to be proud of his role.

'It's you! All this time, the deaths, the battles, it was all because  she  wanted  you !'

Three dances. He had given the first one to Zelda, of course. No one could ever protest that choice of partner. The Queen and her knight. The most important figures in the War of Eras. A splendid couple, though he could not tell if Zelda felt any attraction towards him, the way he...

Warriors shook his head, made an excuse and stauntered to the buffet table, under which he thought he'd seen Legend hide. Two more dances. Then I'm free to leave. Hide in the stables. Play a game with the guards or maybe pay back Twilight for our last match.

He offered Sky a smile when his brother offered him a plate with some meat skewers and a piece of cheese. His stomach protested the very idea of food at the moment, but he appreciated the thoughtfulness. He forced himself to nibble on some of the cheese. It gave him an excuse not to talk to Lady Lanayrou. To dodge her attempt at linking their arms.

  Second dance will be soon.

He scanned the crowd for a proper candidate that wouldn't be draping themselves all over him.

General Impa met his gaze over the crowd of mingling nobles, and his desperation must have shown on his face for she scowled something fierce at him. Right. Sheika. Security detail. Not the kind of person that should be on the dance floor.

With a sigh, Warriors resigned himself to letting whichever lady found him first have first right at a dance with him. Hopefully they'd listened if he said-

“Hey,” said a slightly  off  woman's voice, “do you think you could show me the steps?”

Warriors froze.

A slim, pale Hylian in a turquoise gerudo outfit stared patiently at him. Scars peeked out from under a tasteful veil that hid their chin, mouth and nose, leaving only startling blue eyes. He knew both the veil and the eyes.

Oh.

His gaze flickered down to the extensive network of spider web scars on the sides of the Hylian's torso. The outfit left little to the imagination. It was on full display.

For a second, he struggled to breath, realizing the extent of his brother's action. Warriors needed to apologize so damn much!

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he hurried to blink them away, taking the offer with as much gratitude as he could show his brother. Together, they reached the dance floor, and Warriors barely noticed the few times his feet were stepped on. At this point, Wild could stab him and he'd be thankful. Just swaying to the rhythm of the music and making jokes at the expense of the obnoxious people around them was one of the best dances he ever went through.

And then, someone reminded him just where he was.

“Who's this pasty ruin?” Lady Dynral loudly whispered behind her hand fan.

Twilight, who had just previously been attempting to convince a fair maiden that he was mute, tragically incapable of dancing and awaited in a backwater hut where he'd forgotten to turn off the stove, froze.

(It was no secret that Twilight couldn't  quite pull off the neutral look of disappointment patented by the old man. It was a decent attempt, but they all had earned the original too often for the off-brand version to work.)

(What he  could  however pull off was the deadly stillness of a predator stalking a prey that had been just too loud. Eyes that promised death. Eventually.)

The chill alone made hair rise on the back of Warriors' neck and he was barely in the general vicinity of the lady. Now that was some killer instinct. The blatant bloodlust made his chest pang with nostalgia.

Goddesses he'd take another war over this...

However, seeing Lady Dynral's face drain of blood like this filled him with a singular vindictive happiness.

“Never seen Lady Dynral flee a function this fast before,” Warriors chuckled, twirling Wild at the tip of his arm for another round. “Our farmer's got your honor' back, huh?”

The veil hid Wild's face, but not the curious look in his eyes, nor the faint tilt of his head. “He cares about you too,” he said, softly. “We all do, Warriors.”

Warriors couldn't speak with such a soft feeling warming his chest. Wild's fingers squeezed his hands, then let him go. The others all gave him subtle thumbs up throughout the crowd, encouraging him to stay strong in the face of this battle. Dozens of skirmishes flashed behind his eyes, memories where he stood back to back with them, brothers-in-arms before the forces of evil.

(Sky found him another plate, which he did eat this time. Twilight patted him in the back strong enough to make him stumble into a lord, and wasn't that a shame. 'Ah, my mightily sorries, your lordness!' and Hylia alone knew how he hadn't burst out laughing at that one. Wind subtly hinted at the possibility of skedaddling mid dance if things were needed. 'I can fake illness like you wouldn't believe, War'.')

Third dance.  And he had to admit, it looked like it wouldn't be so bad. Wild's assurance and the others' support made it feel smaller than before. He only needed to dance one more time, and he had had fun at a function for once...

Warriors almost felt serene when the bards on stage began plucking at their instruments' strings.

“Announcing... ” one of the guards near the door suddenly shouted, grinding the activities to a halt, “Princess Lore-al of Koholint!”

“What the f-?!” Wind's attempted swearing mercifully was stopped short by Sky's hand covering his mouth. No one even looked their way.

But Warriors deeply understood the sentiment.

The dress was impressive. Cut from the finest fabric, maybe enchanted silk, white with golden accents, and a gentle pink layer in the style of old royalty. Twenty or so rings, gold, silver and platinum, adorned the newcomers' fingers. Some inserted with gemstones, other carved with hylian runes.

Warriors really wanted to know where he'd gotten the tiara. He could have sworn...

Unlike Wild, Legend hadn't bothered with hiding his face. Or transforming it with make-up. He seemingly relied entirely on his natural twinkitude. And the lack of his ever present scowl that softened his looks considerably.

Amazingly, the haughty, confident expression on Legend's face wouldn't have been out of place amongst royalty. His absolute lack of shame as the rest of the ballroom stared did more for his credibility than an actual magic spell would have.

Warriors felt he ought to laugh, but he was too shell-shocked to do so.

Legend strutted, on high heels, right up to him, finally deigning to meet his eyes as if they were meeting for the first time.

“May I have the honor of this dance, Brave Hero?” Legend offered his hand, which Warriors contemplated like he would the head of a particularly vicious and hungry dodongo.

A long series of excuses came to mind, ranging from needing to go iron his wolf and thinking he heard Ganon call his name somewhere. Wild was one thing.  Legend though? The veteran gambling addict would extract so many favors out of this...

Of course, Legend had to raise an eyebrow like he was challenging him to a game of cuccos and Warriors' entire being tossed caution to the wind in a resounding, mental  fuck it .

With all the assurance of a chosen hero of Courage, he snatched a tulip from some of the nearby decoration, bit down on the stem and winked. “The honor shall be mine, Princess Lore-al.”

The musicians noticeable hesitated before starting to play again, and Warriors would have bet that his Queen had subtly instructed them to go on as normal.

The lascivious beat of a tango resonated around them. Legend's smirk widened, his eyelashes batting. “A red rupee you can't lift me one-handed over your head, Brave Hero.”

Despite himself, Warriors grinned. “You're on, Princess.”

 BONUS

“So... where was the old man tonight?” Wind asked as they made their way back to their suite in the guest wing of the castle. “Couldn't find him.”

Hyrule frowned. “Wait, seriously? You didn't notice him? He was really obvious.”

Wind exchanged a glance with Sky and both came to the same conclusion. “What?”

“He was standing next to some of the really snobbish nobles all night. Just looming. Like when he's really pissed at our collective stupidity. They kept glancing around like they were wondering.”

The Links exchanged glances, mulling their recollections of the evening and arrived to a collective conclusion.

“Bullshit.”

Hyrule gave them an uncertain look.

“Was it the mask?” he mumbled, suddenly unsure. “You guys noticed the freaky grayish purple mask, at least? Like, it hid his entire face, but that was still clearly him, body type and stance and all.”

They turned toward Twilight, who shrugged. “Magic?”

They agreed, Hyrule especially. “Magic.”

A few steps later, Wind broke the silence again.

“... So the old man spent the evening just putting the fear of evil spirits in the nobility?”

Warriors snickered.

“Sounds like him, alright,” Twilight drawled.

 DOUBLE BONUS

“You know...” Sky mused, his hands stilling over the piece of wood he was carving. “Maybe I should just ask Zelda to make it Hylian law to never hold balls.”

Four frowned and looked at Time. “Wouldn't that unraveled, you know, the fabric of time and space?”

Time shrugged, looking quite relaxed sitting by an old tree.

“Oh, right,” Sky mumbled, now hesitant.

Warriors fell on his knees. “I'd give you my firstborn, Sky! Please!”

Legend huffed. “Well, now he's gonna have to make those officials.”

Four put a hand on his forehead. “Does  that  count as a paradox? How many of those have we caused actually?”

“I meant Sky being straddled with Warriors' spawn, but sure. Tons of 'em.”

“HEY!”

[purplesurveys]

1127

1. What is one thing you will never do again? Watch The Hours. Film itself is great, but is way too triggering.

2. Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy? I’d take happiness easily. It’s not bad for the most part to make mistakes and I’d rather be too clumsy than be altogether miserable.

3. What happened the last time you cried? It was the day of what would’ve been our anniversary and at that moment I was alone in my car at a parking lot (waiting for the office to open) on a gloomy day. I just had to cry and let my feelings out for like 5 minutes to accept everything but I was immediately fine afterwards, haha. Grief can be funny.

4. What happened the time in your life when you were the most nervous to do something? My first job interview. It was my first adult thing ever. They never got back to me - very professional of them - but I was still grateful for the experience nonetheless.

5. What would your parents be surprised to learn about you? That I was in a whole ass relationship for technically 6 1/2 years. They probably have an inkling by now, but only about me being in a relationship. I’m sure they would be very surprised if they ever found out how long it had actually gone for.

6. What’s your worst habit? I pick at my toenails when I’m nervous or stressed. I tend to do this when I’m doing a work task that I particularly dread, and sometimes I’ll end up being fixated on the habit for like 10 minutes straight and not get anything done.

7. What superpower would you have for one day? Time travel, just to take quick trips to multiple decades and see how life was like during those times.

8. What fictional character do you have the biggest crush on? Matty from 13 Going on 30 would be one of them. Albert Finney’s character in Two for the Road is also charming as fuck.

9. Where would you live if you could live anywhere in the world? If money wasn’t an issue, probably somewhere cozy in like Switzerland or Canada.

10. What is your most bizarre pet peeve? Not necessarily a pet peeve but I get extremely uncomfortable when someone hands me a gift then they insult the gift while in front of me, saying it’s not a great gift or that I probably don’t need it, etc. Filipinos also have this habit of saying something along the lines of, “You earn way more than me so you’d probably think this gift sucks” like how do you want me to react :(((((( I love receiving gifts and the idea of being thought about already means a lot to me, so it just makes me wince a little bit when I hear statements like the above.

11. Who knows you the best? Gabie, probably. I’ve changed a lot since then, though.

12. What after school activities did you do in high school? Clubs were mandatory extracurricular activities in my high school; in my time, I joined the table tennis and yearbook clubs.

13. What “most likely to” superlative would you be most honored to receive? Idk, we didn’t have those in school. I probably would have been honored to get a journalism-themed one though; something like Most Likely To Write for NYT or Most Likely to Win a Pulitzer or something like that. Obviously that’s changed now and I’ve long let go of journalism as a passion.

14. What’s the last book you really loved? I haven’t read in a long, long while.

15. What was the greatest television show of all time? I don’t watch a lot of TV so I’m not the most credible decision-making body for this lol, but out of all the shows I’ve watched the best one would easily be Breaking Bad.

16. What’s been your favorite age so far? 16. Life was insanely easygoing back then and everything fell into place for me at the time.

17. If you could go back in time, what is one piece of advice you would give your younger self? Know when it’s enough. Be kind to yourself.

18. What one thing would you be most disappointed if you never got to experience it? Have kids.

19. Apologize or ask permission? I don’t understand the relationship between the two.

20. Unlimited love or money? I would love to never have to worry about finances ever again.

21. If you knew you would die in one week, what would you do? Take a week-long leave for work, spend all my money, bond with my dogs, throw a party for my closest friends, and honestly, make my peace with her.

22. What’s your most listened to song? Spotify doesn’t show that feature, but I bet it’s from Paramore or Hayley anyway. It would be impossible to know my most-listened to song of all time, like if we took into account my Spotify, iTunes, etc.

23. Beach vacation or European vacation? I need a beach vacation badly, but a European vacation would be a new and different experience. I’d take the latter.

24. If you could have been a child prodigy what would you have wanted to be skilled at? Playing the piano.

25. What’s the first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Depends on how much I won lmao. I’d probably retire this early if the money was big enough since I’m pretty stingy anyway. But generally, I would like to pay off whatever bills my parents are currently paying for, get back the car that we had to sell because of the pandemic, and maybe go for a solo vacation or five heheh.

26. What celebrity would you trade lives with? Kylie Jenner, for a day. Just so I can briefly have a taste of how being that rich is like.

27. If you were a performing artist, what would you title your first album? Nope.

28. What story do your friends still give you crap about? Staying with Gab despite the red flags that glared for four whole years is one of them. Angela will also never let go of that one time I tried some kind of fruit juice in high school and I described it as ‘packs a punch.’ It’s understood as a super Westernized idiom where I live and literally no one uses it in a casual sentence, so it was a hit with her and now we use ‘packs a punch’ whenever we want to describe something awesome or surprising.

29. If earth could only have one condiment for the rest of time, what would you pick to keep around? Mayonnaise and I will die on this mayonnaise-coated hill.

30. What is the ideal number of people to have over on a Friday night? Ideally? At this point? Like 20. I would love for that to be the case on the first Friday we can consider the Philippines COVID-free.

31. What was the worst age you’ve been so far? Sorry for yet another incoming Paramore reference but they literally have a lyric that goes, “22 is like, the worst idea that I have ever had.” Before turning 22 I used to think it was a weird line, like how could 22 possibly be unenjoyable? Now I’m 22 in a pandemic going through a rough breakup and I can’t even see my friends nor work in my first workplace ever.

32. What is your weirdest dealbreaker? If they wanted only cats as pets. I can deal with a dog and a cat, I guess; but cats were never fond of me so I feel like I’d struggle with this situation lol.

33. What fictional character reminds you most of yourself? Mr. Peanutbutterrrrrrr. Has a lot of love to give, doesn’t always use it on the right people. Also lives on pleasing others.

34. Do you believe in karma? Just to a tiny extent, in how I would want people’s awful actions to come bite them in the ass one day. It’s not a philosophy that controls my life and the things I do whatsoever.

35. What was your favorite TV show as a kid? My absolute favorite was Hi-5, with the original cast. As I got older my interests shifted to Spongebob and The Fairly OddParents.

36. What is the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person? I don’t think it’s weird, but I don’t hear thighs too often when people list down their favorite physical traits. It’s certainly one of mine.

37. What Jeopardy! category would you clear, no problem? A Friends-themed one, obviously. This reminds me of the Jeopardy night I had with some friends a few nights ago! That was so much fun, and Andi makes really great and fun questions hahaha.

38. What is something you’re superstitious about? I don’t think I am about anything.

39. What is the scariest experience you have ever had? Maybe that night my grandpa went into a drunk rampage. I was 9, right in his line of sight, frozen and scared shitless, and I didn’t know who he was going to strike next.

40. Who is a non-politician you wish would run for office? I never really think about this. If someone’s a non-politician then there must be a reason they aren’t, lol.

41. What cheesey song do you have memorized? Little Things by One Direction is very cheesy and it’s one of my least favorite songs of theirs, but I still have it memorized out of habit.

42. What one dead person would you most like to have dinner with, if it were possible? My great-grandpa died all the way back in the 70s, even before some of my aunts and uncles could meet him. It would be cool to spend time with him.

43. Do you think it’s important to stay up to date with the news? Yeah, absolutely. I have the stomach for it lol, so I always monitor what’s happening locally and globally. Skipping the news from time to time is fine because I get how anxiety-inducing and depressing some events can be, but there’s a huge difference between ignoring the news for your mental health and being indifferent altogether. I’d immediately judge anyone who’s the latter, and would assume you are incredibly privileged.

44. What is the best present you could ever receive? My money refunded -____________- I had food delivered to my director, Bea’s house as a surprise earlier today, but apparently I ran into a scammer driver and the fucker drove away with the meal I had bought for Bea. I reported the driver and the situation, and thankfully the customer service rep of the food delivery app quickly responded and said they’d return the full amount I paid for; but I still haven’t received it.

45. Would you give up one of your fingers if it meant you’d have free wifi wherever you go, for the rest of your life? No. Mobile data exists for a reason.

46. What’s the first thing you’d do if you were the opposite sex for one day? Check out my voice.

47. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom? I’d love to surprise Angela with an overseas trip that would last for like a month. Traveling is one thing we have yet to do as best friends.

48. What is the nicest thing someone could say about you? Nothing particular, but it makes me happy when people call me strong and when they validate the shit I’ve gone through over the years.

49. Giant house in a subdivision or tiny house somewhere with a view? I would take the giant house. When it comes to my own place, I would want to have a lot of space to roam around.

50. What is the weirdest quirk your family has? Nothing is coming to mind.

[hellyeahomeland]

“Designated Driver”: an HYH recap

Disappointingly, this episode doesn’t pick up in Carrie’s hotel room after Yevgeny kissed her goodnight. It is the next morning, and she’s speed-walking down a street in Kohat. Her good buddy Arman, whom we met in the premiere, has driven all the way from Kabul to pick her up.

She races into his truck and starts frantically writing on the first piece of paper she can find. It is a real treat to see Claire Danes’ actual handwriting! ...Wait, none of you care about that?

Anyway, Arman is like, hello wtf?? Carrie explains it’s something she heard, evidence actually, and she needs to write it down before she forgets. That’s right, Carrie fucking Mathison was DRUGGED and woke up the next morning and still could recall the crucial climactic ten seconds of that cockpit recording even though right after she shared a steamy kiss with Yevgeny. She is brilliant, and we have no choice but to continue to stan. She asks Arman to drive her to Bagram Airfield back in Afghanistan, and off they go.

In the White House, Hayes, Linus, and Zabel are meeting with the Pakistani ambassador about the rapidly escalating situation on the border. Hayes is his typical uninformed self, Zabel is his typical racist warmonger self, and Linus is his typical silent “have I been swallowed whole by an alligator yet?” self. It’s all very… depressing, to be honest. The ambassador says they’ll defend themselves with all they have if the Americans invade.

Outside the Oval, the ambassador is verging on speechless. Linus says they have to be the grown-ups in the room but suggests that maybe as a show of good faith, they could get that special ops team released from Kohat. Remember? The one that Carrie tricked Jenna into giving up last week. Linus says they are thisclose to oblivion, and I have heartburn.

Back in Pakistan, Jalal is overjoyed that the government is protecting him. Balach, his father’s closest advisor, is like “coolio dude, congrats.” Jalal asks for some advice and Balach says he should gather men and weapons and lay low. Once again, Jalal is offended at the suggestion of hiding. Instead, he asks Balach to find a target (i.e., Americans) for them to attack. Balach refuses—he’s not afraid to fight, in fact he’s been doing it as long as Jalal has been alive. But he’s also not stupid, which Jalal most certainly is. And if this show has told us anything this year, it’s that the dumbest people in the room are the most dangerous.

A few hours later (but really, what is time?) Carrie arrives at Bagram Airfield, which is apparently like an open-air farmer’s market because she just walks right in, no issue. She finds Worley. Man, this episode is making us remember! He’s the mechanic from “Chalk Two Down” who had the pregnant girlfriend and whom Carrie initially suspected of being involved in the helicopter crash. She brings him her rough transcript and asks him to translate. He’s the third person after Saul who seems to give a shit about the flight recorder but confirms what it sounded like last week: the crash was an accident. Fluke mechanical failure due to metal in the engine oil. Carrie asks why they didn’t call in to tell someone what was happening. He answers: “Aviate, navigate, communicate. They never got past step one.”

Then Carrie finally rings Saul.

Saul: Thank God, I’ve been worried sick. Carrie: It was an accident, Saul. Mechanical failure. I’m at Bagram and they just confirmed it. Saul: Jesus. We need to get you and that flight recorder back to DC ASAP. Carrie: Oh, right… I don’t have it. Yevgeny stole it from me. Saul: What’s this transcript then? Carrie: I just Rain Man’d that shit.  Saul: First, I love you. But second, we have nothing. Carrie: You are getting on my last nerve. I’ve risked my sanity, my life, and my reputation for the truth on this fucking flight recorder. I heard it. The Russians have it. These are fucking facts. Don’t tell me that’s nothing. Saul: You have zero credibility, Carrie. You’re somewhere between a rogue agent and a national security threat. Carrie: Ok, Mr. National Security Advisor. Why don’t you do something? Talk to the Russians and figure out their endgame. I’m so fucking tired. Saul: Fine. You should probably turn yourse— Carrie: [click]

At Kabul station, Mike Dunne continues to be the most annoying person alive. He whines to Jenna about Carrie showing up at Bagram, and Carrie shooting down the helicopter, Carrie giving up the special ops team last week, Carrie this, Carrie that. He’s obsessed with Carrie is my point. Jenna tries very hard to Play It Cool but her anxiety about Carrie returning back to Kabul is palpable. It’s only a matter of time before Carrie starts talking and sells Jenna down the river, too.

The show continues to bring back ALL THE MINOR CHARACTERS. Saul meets with the Russian ambassador from last season, the one who couldn’t make anything happen with Carrie’s release. He tells him about Carrie and Yevgeny and the ambassador is like “they were supposed to stay away from each other! Those crazy kids!” It’s very much two dads meeting to talk about their rebellious teenagers and just what are we gonna do about them? Saul asks for his help locating the flight recorder. He says he’ll see what he can do.

He calls Saul later and tells him the Russians don’t know squat. Which Saul knows is a lie. I mean, they both know it’s a lie. We all know it’s a lie. Saul does his best angry, menacing whisper but the ambassador just says that the Russians have what they want.

In Kabul, Carrie is amping up to go New Car Smell on Yevgeny’s ass. She suspects he’s already back in Moscow devising new ways to fuck her over, but she sneaks into his apartment looking for some evidence or clue as to his whereabouts anyway. Surprisingly, the place is completely empty. Afterward, she and Arman wait out a traffic jam in the truck.

Arman: What next? You always know what to do next. Carrie: Not this time. I’ve dug myself a gigantic hole, but I don’t see a way out. Just a few days ago there was a moment where I actually thought I’d done it. I’d won. Now look at me. God, I’m so fucked.

Suddenly, Carrie is grabbed from the truck by two men with guns and thrown into an abandoned building where Yevgeny enters.

Yevgeny: I’m sorry for the ambush. Carrie: You’ve done way worse things to me. Yevgeny: That wasn’t personal. Carrie: Fuck you, it’s always personal. Anyway, you took something from me and I want it back. What’s the price? Yevgeny: Saul asked the same thing. For him, it’s not for sale. For you, I could make a deal. Carrie: Please be less cryptic. Yevgeny: Saul’s been running an agent in the Kremlin for years. Find that agent, and I’ll give you the flight recorder. It’s the only thing worth more to my country than the US self-destructing in Pakistan. Carrie: That person doesn’t exist. Believe me, after all these years, I’d know. Saul probably just made up the story to get you all paranoid. Looks like it worked. Yevgeny: No, he exists. It’s the only explanation. Carrie: Look, even if this person existed, Saul would never give them up. It’s his first and only commandment. You never give up an asset. Yevgeny: I never said it would be easy. Carrie: It’s not that it’s not easy. It’s impossible. I’ll do anything else, but I can’t betray Saul. Yevgeny: Based on recent events, I’d say you can do just about anything.

Back at Jalal’s base, Balach says he’s found a target. He asks Jalal for some men to place an IED. Jalal wants a driver instead. That would make a statement: that they’re not afraid to die. Once again Balach worns that they’re inviting more endless war, but Jalal won’t hear it. He orders Balach to prepare the car, and he’ll find the driver.

In Kabul, Carrie and Arman are parked outside the CIA station. Saul calls Carrie again. He shares the dead end with the ambassador and asks Carrie why the Russians would lie about it. She’s silent and then lies about the meeting with Yevgeny. “I found it, Saul. The truth,” she says. But the truth isn’t much use if no one will listen.

Arman tries to dissuade her from turning herself in. He can get her to Dubai and she can hide out. But she knows that’ll only delay the inevitable, and things are about to get much, much worse. Arman senses a shift—just a few hours ago it was Bagram this, Yevgeny that. Now she seems resigned to her fate. He asks what happened with those two men. “They made me an offer, knowing I’d have to accept.” She thanks him and tearfully hugs him goodbye.

She steps out of the truck then and spots two girls playing in the street. It’s an interesting moment: is she thinking of Franny? Or herself, that fearless little girl Maggie recalled last season? We can’t know for certain, only that she ditches her phone and walks straight  up to the gate at the station and turns herself in: “I’m Carrie Mathison. I’m wanted by the FBI. I’m turning myself in.”

Inside the station, a guilty Jenna has convinced Mike to let her supervise the handover of the special ops team at the border. Then Alan reveals that Carrie just turned herself in. There’s an extended sequence in which

Jenna looks like she’s about to throw up

Mike looks practically giddy at the recent development

Carrie looks like she wants to strangle every single useless person in the building

Balach is overseeing the assembly of the car bomb and notices that Jalal is sharing some food with his two young sons. He asks what the hell is going on and then Jalal tells him that he’s found the driver for the attack: him. Balach refuses.

Jalal: Fine, I’ll just kill your wife and sons anyway. Then I’ll kill you. It’s what my father would have done. Balach: Don’t hurt them. Jalal: They’re the family of a coward who wouldn’t agree with all of my dumb ideas! Balach: I can’t believe how completely terrible you are. Jalal: Look at it this way: you can drive this car and die a martyr. Then your family will be treated with honor. Or you can refuse and you’ll all die. Balach: Give me your word that they’ll be taken care of.

Jalal just nods.

In Interrogation Room #1, Jenna enters to give Carrie some water but it’s Jenna so she’s not able to hide her true motives for long.

Carrie: This little dance we’ve been doing all season has been amusing but it pays off now. Jenna: What? Also what the hell are you doing here? Carrie: I’m turning myself in. Jenna: Why now? By the way, the special ops team that you tricked me into giving up is being freed. Remember them? All that bullshit about a flight recorder— Carrie: It wasn’t bullshit. Jenna: Everything that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. Carrie: Just say what you came in here to say. Jenna: Are you going to give me up? Because I was dumb enough to trust you? Carrie: No. Jenna: How can I know you won’t? Carrie: I thought we already went over this. You can’t know anything for sure. If you’re looking for guarantees, you’re really in the wrong line of work. But I just promised you. Your bosses here will never know you were involved, and that’ll have to be good enough. Jenna: I lovehate you. You still put me in a terrible position. Carrie: Maybe I did. But in my own fucked up way I ended up teaching you a lesson. On the other hand, I have actual problems. And if this is the guiltiest you ever feel, consider yourself lucky. Now go, before the FBI catches you talking to a ~Russian spy~.

Vanessa Kroll—remember her, she’s the I Mean Business FBI investigator from “Two Minutes”—steps into the interrogation room for her turn. Jenna and Mike observe from behind the one-way mirror. She begins to lay out the facts in front of Carrie. Well, I should say “facts.” They’re really just statements about Carrie’s behavior, as told from another vantage point, that make her look really guilty. Carrie plays at the improbability of it all. Carrie singlehandedly convinced Beau Bridges to come to Kabul, then passed off the info to the Russians who passed it off to the Taliban who just happened to be waiting with an RPG.

Carrie is in deep shit and she knows it, but she is remarkably articulate and reminds everyone that she doesn’t fucking work for them and she can talk or engage with anyone she fucking pleases to, thankyouverymuch.

Vanessa: Not when you’re providing aid and comfort to the enemy. Carrie: If you’re talking about Yevgeny Gromov, it’s more like he provided aid and comfort to me. Sara: 😏 Carrie: Anyway, I want a lawyer. Vanessa: Fine, then you’re under arrest. Carrie: Peachy.

In the next room, Jenna is maximum confused. It’s almost like Carrie wanted to be arrested, which obviously begs the question of what she has planned when she gets back to America. Mike continues to possess a quarter of a brain cell and is all, weren’t you going to the border or something or other?

In Saul’s office, Linus gives him the lay of the land. Carrie has just invoked Saul in her defense, and he’s now on a fast track to the same amount of credibility that Carrie herself has: that is to say, zero. They bought some time with the release of that ops team but continuing to give Carrie cover is really bad optics. Saul reveals the whole deal with the flight recorder. Then he admits it’s pretty much all his fault. He was there when she was returned back from the Russians. She didn’t even recognize him. And he took her out of treatment when he knew she wasn’t ready, because there was a job to do and he asked nicely. He can’t turn his back on her now.

The episode closes with an incredibly-edited sequence. While Carrie is escorted out of Kabul station in handcuffs, Jenna arrives at the border where no one knows why she’s there or seems to give a shit.

Meanwhile, Balach approaches in the car and records a video for his wife, soon to be a widow. He’s going to die and he’s been preparing for that reality his whole life. He asks her to forgive him and to make sure that Jalal keeps his word about protecting them, lest he meet the fate of a vengeful God.

Carrie and Vanessa board an airplane headed back for Washington. Carrie struggles with her seatbelt before the zip ties around her wrists are removed. The bus with the special ops team pulls up to the border and the crew sits inside, waiting for the go-ahead. Balach readies the bomb. Carrie’s plane taxis, she exchanges looks with Vanessa. Everything gets very quiet. 

Then Balach starts driving.

He speeds toward the border as soldiers scatter. Someone grabs Jenna and she ducks behind another vehicle. The team in the bus stare out the window. “Move the fucking bus!” they yell. They are sitting ducks as Balach heads straight toward them. The soldiers on the ground fire rounds and rounds at Balach, missing each time. The driver of the bus hurries out, saves himself. Everyone stares as they prepare for the inevitable. Balach screams, moments away from oblivion. His crying sons flash through his mind. He’s doing this for them, remember? He’s giving himself up for them. Then: a crash, an explosion, a flash of white.

Carrie’s plane lifts off. There’s a look of resolve in her eyes as she stares out the window at this place. This place where she fled to escape her grief, so many years ago. This place where, more recently, she fled to escape her trauma. Now she’s leaving and never coming back. Is she a martyr, too? Has she given herself up, for her family, for Saul? Or is it the reverse? Is she about to give them up? She’s exploded her life, in her own way. I would rather you say I was dead. Darkness.

[lolitaxxis]

My therapist recently told me that I needed to write a letter to help me clarify my feelings, so here we go.

I guess I want to start about where my purpose used to be. For literally all of my life my identity was a student with a dream of being a therapist. I wanted to help people. I wanted to know that I COULD help people. This was a safe purgatory time of my life where I felt like all decisions I made were “safe” because they “didn’t count yet”. I guess you could say this is the period of my life where I was really starting to shape myself. I felt free to explore very obvious mistakes because I was young. It was a backwards type of learning; I was finding out exactly what I wanted and who I was by experiencing exactly what I didn’t want and figuring out who I wasn’t.

Things became more focused when I got into grad-school. For the first time in my life, and I mean the VERY first, this was a challenge that I signed up for for MYSELF and not for anyone else. This is also when I met the absolute love my life; subsequently, my love sparked his addiction and my entire world was flipped upside down. I was left shattered with everything I thought I “knew” about myself suddenly meaning absolutely nothing. 

My purpose at this time was: Throw yourself into school, make sure he doesn’t die, and drown yourself in literally all of the booze.

Turns out, he was not the love of my life. I am.

The rest of grad-school my purpose was learning how to love myself. That my mistakes didn’t determine my worth, no matter how small. I’m still working on this one. Much like my youth, this was a trial and error process. My biggest error, however, was finding purpose in how much I could be loved by others. By you. 

My purpose was to love you as perfectly as I could. To be the best girlfriend. My purpose was to prove to myself that I was worth love. Worth YOUR love because you made me feel like I wasn’t. 

For 3 years I searched for love, your love, and I never, ever, found it. And then I started my job. I found my purpose. My perceptive changed. I didn’t need your love, because I had mine. I had enough love for both of us.

At least I thought I did.

My job is hard. My job is like, really really fucking hard. Every time I tell someone this, they always combat it with how hard *their* job is in comparison. I acknowledge that most jobs are difficult, but I don’t think people understand. 

Let start with the shifts. 12 hour shifts are inhumane, but I take it anyway because I enjoy having 4 days off. That doesn’t make the 8th, 9th, 10th...11th....hour any easier, though. The duties are nothing extensive, but certainly tedious. A few groups a day, a few individual sessions, a lot of notes, treatment plans, updates, discharges, ect. This is where I have to practice the most self compassion because this is where I get the most feedback and I internalize criticism in a way that determines my credibility. I recently found out this is called Imposter Syndrome... or debilitating perfectionism. 

Now lets look at the atmosphere. I am surrounded, constantly, by 160 *newly* sober addicts. For an introvert, that is a nightmare. For an empath, this is literal agony. It is an actual emotional ambush by people who are seemingly in constant anguish. Anxiety, anger, despair, shame, resentment, anger, sadness. You name it, they feel it, and then I hold it for them. Most times I don’t give it back either. I just hold it. I hold it for them because I fucking care, and that is the problem. But that is also my purpose.  

For the first time in my life, I was putting my time, effort, heart and soul into my WORK and it surmounted to much more than I could ever imagine. You see, before I had put all of this energy into YOU and I never got anything back. You said you loved me, but I didn’t see it. You said you loved me, but I never felt it. I just heard it. For a long while, you actually had me believing that this inability to consume your love was because I needed too much and was not acknowledging what you were offering.  

What did you offer me, truly? For 8 months, I was not even acknowledge as someone you took pride it or even took seriously. For the 8 months to follow that, I was still living in the shadow of the “monster” who preceded me. Whilst all of this was happening, you kept your options open. I was focused on you. Cue the first betrayal. The worst part what that you filled my heart with so much anger and resentment toward another women who did. nothing. wrong. But you lied. As you do, so I learned..  You know you weren’t even the one to reach out to try to fix that? I did. I fixed it. It was not my responsibility to fix. The betrayals didn’t stop there. Always small, as far as I knew. But your attention wandered and your heart was still not invested. Or you were “scared”. Still, my love did not waiver. Finally you gave me a little. The smallest part of you. Forced by me, but still there. Finally. Finally. Finally. I am worth this mans love. I am worthy.

Fuck. YOU.

I had my own life to manage now, not just yours. But I stood to the plate. Do you know that I would go grocery shopping for your house AND my house? Do you need anything from the store? I think you’re out of toothpaste. Look I got us matching loofas! 

I would work all day long, go to YOUR house, and then cook YOU dinner because *you* were tired and wanted to play video games. The constant digital divide. All I wanted was you. I wanted your love. I wanted to feel love by you. I wanted it so bad, i would literally ask for it.

You told me you didn’t know how to give me what I wanted.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.

And yet, I persisted. Resilience, stubbornness, you pick. 

But then I started my new job.  This is why my rant about my job is so important: I learned to stop giving energy to areas of my life that did not give me the same amount of purpose that I felt at work. 

These were complete strangers, most of which I can hardly remember their names, that left me with such passion and drive, that I finally realized what I had been missing my entire life and, most importantly, in my relationships.  Strangers I had just met showed me immense gratitude for being in their life.

You took me for granted, every day.

So finally, I got tired of it. I got tired of trying all of the time. I got tired for asking to be treated well, to be adored. I got tired of you coming to my recharge place and you being checked out the entire time. I got tired of going to your house and being left alone all night while you were getting loaded with your friends. I got tired of sacrificing my time and energy to have it completely shit on. I got tired of being lied to. Even when I gave you another chance, you couldn’t bare to tell me the truth - so you lost me, again. You wanted to feel better about yourself. I wanted to be cherished. And now I had perceptive.

I did it wrong, though. Not at first. I had the right to leave. I had the right to leave and stay gone, and I should have honored that. But, I loved you. I need you to understand how much I loved you. I wanted to see it work. I had a story in my head about how I wanted things to be. I completed ignored the reality in front of me how things actually were. So i tried again. This was were I went wrong. I was drained. You do not understand how drained I was. I was drained for all of the reasons our relationship was so hard to begin with. I was drained because my job is, like I said, really really hard and insanely emotionally taxing. I was drained because we were in the beginning of a pandemic and I could not make sense of what the world was. I was drained because I was stuck at home with myself and my thoughts and my feelings. You know, the stuff that was always there responding to my reality but I could never acknowledge because I was stuck in what I *wanted* to believe about us. 

I never lied when I said I wanted to be alone. I still always want to be alone. I am riddled with anxiety constantly. And not just my normal “generalized anxiety”. This is about to puke, chest pain, cant stop moving, why cant I pay attention or catch my breath, I think I am going to die, anxiety. Plus, I am still managing my depression, which leaves me longing for non-judgmental safety of my bed. I can’t spend time with friends long before my body begins to ache and my skin begins to crawl. This wasn’t just with you. It’s everyone. I’m struggling right now and I’m doing my best to not let it take over my life. You never understood, you just gave it space and then fucked your roommate  my friend. 

And then I met someone. I made a friend who knew nothing of me, but wanted to know everything about me. I made a friend who felt like I got to step outside of reality for a bit with. I made a friend who didn’t make me feel pressured to be attentive or seductive. Someone just wanted to know me and make me smile. And that was that. That is what I have needed this entire time.

I grew.

[firegrilled]

Mommas’ Boys - Part 3

@erejeanweek2k19 Prompt: Danger

Part 1 | Part 4

Summary: Jean takes it upon himself to show his whole school that he’s turned a new leaf, but he didn’t expect his and Eren’s moms to bear witness to the rather embarrassing moment.

 Glancing at her watch, Celine smiled.

“Thirty minutes to spare,” she mumbled to herself as she walked around the corner of the city block, her heels clacking with each step. Her eyes honed in on the cozy little café at the end of the block. “Carla should be proud of me this week.”

Celine was barely inside the building before she noticed her lunch date already sitting in a corner, typing furiously at a computer. Her mouth fell into a frown when she noticed Carla’s frazzled appearance. While Mrs. Jaeger was hardly the picture of business, a wrinkled shirt and barely combed hair were unusual even for her.

Rather than order a coffee she walked over to her friend, pulling up a chair.

“Someone is here early,” Celine commented, spooking Carla.

Her friend jumped in her seat, placing a hand over her chest. “Celine! I wasn’t expecting you for another hour… Wait, you’re early today!”

“Perks of managing one of the smaller branches. Same pay but much less hours and work.”

Celine rested her purse on the table as she took a seat.

“Oh I’m so glad to hear. I’m sure Jean must love that,” Carla smiled. “After being away for so long…”

Dark bags drooped under Carla’s eyes but Celine remained silent.

“Yeah, a summer turned into a year abroad but it did him a lot of good. My maman always had a firm hand. Can you believe Jean actually does the dishes and is so incredibly polite? And I haven’t heard from Erwin at all this first semester.”

“Really?” Astonishment evident in Carla’s voice. “Eren has mentioned he’s better behaved even if he’s still hanging with those same hooligans from middle school.”

Sighing, Celine nodded. “I’d heard that but he doesn’t see them after school anymore. I pick him up straight from track. He might’ve been way out of line but he was right, I wasn’t there for him so now I’m going to make sure I am.”

Carla placed her hand over Celine’s, grasping it.

“I’m so proud of you, both of you.”

“Thanks, dear. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here so early, and on a laptop no less. What’s going on?”

At that question the light behind Carla’s eyes faded. She pulled her hand back and reached into her pocket to pull out a tissue. Water formed at the edges of her eyes but she dabbed them away before they fell.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before you found out, but Grisha… the world learned he faked the results of some of his papers. He’s lost all credibility in the scientific world and the hospital fired him for academic dishonesty. He left home a week ago and never returned,” Carla answered in a hushed tone, sorrow hanging over her words.

“Oh honey, that was his lab in the news?”

“Yes. I thought he just needed some time to clear his head but today he reached out to me. He doesn’t know when he’s coming back and he withdrew most of our savings, his savings. Now we need to move before the end of the month and I need to find a job to provide for Eren and Mikasa.”

A sob escaped Carla causing her to hunch over. She wiped away the tears as they came but she kept her voice steady.

Déjà vu hit Celine like a ton of bricks, unearthing long repressed memories. She trembled thinking about Carla’s situation but soon regained her composure. Placing a firm hand on Carla’s shoulder, she looked her right in the eyes.

“You will get through this, Carla. It’ll be long and it won’t be easy but you’ll do this. Even though it feels like your entire world was wrenched away from you, you’re gonna pull it right back and continue being the best damn mom to those kids. I’ve been in your shoes before and I’ll help you as best I can.”

Sniffing, Carla tilted her head in confusion. “You have?”

“Yes, many years ago. Jean’s dad passed away when he was just a baby and he left me with the most wonderful child to raise by myself. I know it hurts so much and you feel defeated but it’s temporary. The world won’t stop turning because he’s gone. And Eren and Mikasa won’t stop needing you. Just focus on one step at a time and everything will slowly come back into place.”

“One step at a time… I need to find a home. We at least have enough for that and a little while longer,” Carla tried to clear her mind. She took long and deep breaths until she regained her composure.

“Right, and then we can work on finding a date for you to start your new job.”

Carla snorted gracelessly at that remark.

“Start my new job? I need to find a place that’ll take a resume of ‘housewife and mother – sixteen years’.”

“Not a problem, we have an opening at my branch that I’ll hold for you,” Celine offered.

Carla’s jaw dropped.

“R-really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course! Just focus on the other important things like your kids. They need you.”

For the first time during their conversation, Carla’s expression relaxed and the life returned to her eyes.

“Thank you so much!”

As if on cue, Celine’s phone rang. The two women glanced down to see Erwin’s picture flash across the screen, wearing his usual stern expression.

“I think I might’ve jinxed myself,” Celine sighed, ignoring her friend’s chuckling. She swiped a finger across the screen and took the call. “Hello Erwin.”

“Hi, Celine-”

“Jean again?”

“-yes. We’ve had a rather awkward situation develop and I’d like you to come down.”

Rolling her eyes, Celine gave Carla a dull stare. “Should I bring Carla? We’re currently having lunch together.”

“Ah, give her my regards. Yes, please bring her too.”

Carla cocked an eyebrow until Celina nodded at her, causing her to hang her head. “Oh, Eren…”

“Alright, we’ll be right over,” Celine confirmed. Hanging the phone up, she gestured to the door. “I’ll drive.”

The two women paid the bill and left in a rush. Much to Celine’s surprise, Carla pointed out a quicker route to the school that she was unaware of and beat her personal best time. As they pulled up to park, they saw Erwin waiting at the doors to the school.

“I hope they didn’t get in a fight again,” Celine sighed. Her son was so close to making it one semester without trouble. So damn close.

“Here’s to hoping,” Carla shook her head, unbuckling her belt.

They carefully shut the doors to the Honda Civic before joining Erwin on the sidewalk.

“Carla, Celine, I hope today has treated you well… Or at least as best as the circumstances allow,” Erwin greeted, his eyes focusing on Carla for the latter part of his statement.

“It was,” Celine said. “What happened? What did they fight about this time?”

Erwin frowned, shaking his head. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Good news is that the boys didn’t fight each other for once.”

Celine flinched at those words. “Come again?”

“From what I’ve gathered the boys didn’t fight each other. In fact, Jean defended Eren this morning from his friends.”

“Jean defended Eren? From what?” Celine interrogated the man, disbelief in her voice.

Eren wasn’t a boy that needed defending.

“Mr. Wagner and his little group were harassing Eren about his father,” Erwin started, pausing when Carla’s mood instantly soured. “Jean took exception to this and verbally lambasted them.”

“Oh he didn’t throw a punch, thank goodness,” Celine released a held breath, wiping her forehead she smiled.

“Correct, but he might as well have. His so-called friends saw fit to tape these to every locker in the building.”

Erwin pulled a neatly folded paper from his breast pocket, extending it to Celine. She quickly unfurled it, nearly dropping it when she saw the contents: a grainy picture of her son with large words underneath it.

“’Jean Kirschtein is a faggot’?” Celine read aloud, her blood freezing in her veins. “His friends did this?”

“Yes, we have them on camera. We currently have Jean in the office to shield him from harassment. Eren is also present since he took it upon himself to avenge Jean’s honor,” Erwin informed the mothers. He gestured to the building, “If you’d follow me we can go see them.”

Carla shook her head at the news.

Just as the three stepped towards the building, the doors swung open to reveal Levi dressed in a custodial outfit. “Erwin, get to the office. Now!”

“What?” Erwin tilted his head in confusion as they walked to the building. He quickly realized something was off when he heard the school’s PA echoing in the halls.

“…and the time we thought Connie shat himself on the bus to DC? That was Mina after she ate Taco Bell for the first time. Totally just blamed him and everyone bought it. Oh and she cheated on you Connie with Thomas. And then cheated on him with Franz who then cheated on her with Hannah,” Jean’s distinct voice announced.

Celine placed a hand over her mouth as the color drained from her face. While she listened to her son’s speech she noticed the posters lining the halls. Every locker with a picture of her son’s face with those nasty words underneath them.

“Let’s go, now,” Erwin stated, immediately power-walking for the office. He didn’t miss the smirk on Levi’s face as the janitor listened to the juicy gossip.

“But Thomas, you hypocrite, you’re the one that made out with Franz when you were both tipsy. And I just love how you told everyone you lost your virginity already. News flash, you fucked your stuffed bear Mr. Tinkles and pretended it was a big deal,” Jean continued. Repeated dull thuds could be heard in the background but Jean seemingly ignored it.

Celine kept her mouth bolted shut as she heard her son using such brazen language.

“And what about Franz? You really haven’t done too much. Besides the fact you like to pick your nose and eat the boogers. And that you wet your bed until like three years ago.”

The three adults were almost at a jogging pace when they could faintly hear someone shout, “Liar!”

“Call me what you want but I’m not a pants shitter, a toy fucker, or a cheater. Or a toy fucker. Poor Mr. Tinkles. In conclusion, fuck you three.”

Erwin and the mothers arrived at the principal’s office in time to see Hanji shoulder-checking the door. Each attempt was in vain as the wood held strong.

“Hanji, where are the keys?” Erwin asked, leading Carla and Celine inside.

Turning to reveal crooked glasses, Hanji raised a finger and opened their mouth but no words came out.

“Oh, right. Those,” Hanji eventually spoke.

Quickly retrieving the keys from their pants pocket, Hanji unlocked the door to reveal Jean sitting in Erwin’s chair facing the window with a sorrowful look while Eren was on the floor wheezing. Eren grabbed his sides while laughter wracked his body.

“Jean Alexandre Kirschtein, what have you done?” Celine asked, catching the attention of both the boys.

Jean spun around in the chair, his expression now akin to a deer in the headlights.

“Maman-!”

Carla’s eyes fell to her son who struggled to regain his composure. With a concerted effort Eren managed to stifle his laughter.

“He just straight up murdered Thomas Wagner, Mina Carolina, and Franz Kefka. Good riddance,” Eren explained, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Oh this is the best day of my life.”

Carla covered her mouth with her hand at her son’s reaction. It wasn’t disappointment or anger that kept her silent, but awe. Jean managed to bring a wide smile to her son’s face.

Erwin crossed his arms as he stepped into the room, clearing his throat. “My chair?”

Not needing to be told twice, Jean scampered away from the leather chair and into one of the plush chairs on the side. “Sorry, sir.”

“Why, Jean? They would’ve been disciplined and punished accordingly,” Erwin wondered as he pulled a pink sheet from his desk. He started scribbling on it, looking at the calendar on his desk for the date.

“No offense, sir, but they wouldn’t have learned their lesson. I know them. They’ve never known what lines shouldn’t be crossed and a suspension wouldn’t do anything. Now they know what happens when you go after low hanging fruit.”

Celine pursed her lips, processing her son’s explanation. While she didn’t know what to make of her son’s very public stunt, she was moderately impressed by his reasoning. Not that she’d ever tell him that.

“Ms. Kirschtein, you know the drill. Please sign here that you understand the reason for his detention,” Erwin said as he slipped the pink paper across the desk.

“Only a detention?” She asked.

Even Jean perked up at that news.

“Yes, he’ll be in detention Monday morning for using the intercom inappropriately and slandering students. He’ll be joined by his friends of course but this is no reason for suspension,” Erwin explained.

“Of course, thank you,” Celine nodded as she signed the line.

“You may take him home early today, I don’t wish for any further disturbances to our educational environment.”

“Okay, thank you.” Celine turned for the door when she noticed Carla. Before she could respond Carla held up her hand.

“It’s ok, I’ll get a ride with Levi. His shift should be ending soon and he was due to clean our house today. Go home Celine.”

Smiling, Celine replied. “Okay. We’ll talk about the other thing later. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything else. Now, come along Jean.”

Carla nodded.

Jean got to his feet, shoving his hands in his pocket and keeping his eyes to the ground. Before he got too far, Eren called out to him.

“Hey, Jean. Thanks,” Eren grinned at him.

Jean returned a tiny smile and shrugged. “No problem.”

Celine almost tripped upon hearing those words but thankfully caught herself. Today was really full of surprises.

To Be Continued

[tyrantisterror]

FUCK IT LET’S GET ASININE

TT’s SUBJECTIVE RANKING OF THE MARVEL MOVIE VILLAINS (AND A FEW SPECIAL MENTIONS FOR THE TV VILLAINS TOO)

I maintain that ranking characters is stupid but sometimes I dare to be stupid so let’s do this.  SPOILERS FOR EVERY MARVEL MOVIE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED SEE YOU AFTER THE CUT FUCK I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT SUPERHEROES A LOT IN THE PAST TWO DAYS HUH

Ok, I guess I should give some criteria for this, so we’re going to be judging these guys both as villains and characters in general.  As characters, they need to be interesting and compelling - i.e. you want to follow their journey, you want to hear their story, because that’s a characters job.  If a character isn��t making a story compelling, they aren’t a great character.  As specifically antagonistic characters, they need to provide an interesting counterpoint and conflict for the heroes - there has to be a substantive reason for why they are opposing the main characters.  And as villains - and while villains are often antagonists, those two words AREN’T synonymous - they need to bring a level of menace to the table.  We don’t just want to see the heroes/protagonists win - we also don’t want the villains to succeed in their goal, because their goal is, y’know, bad.

If a villain is successful in all of these things, then there’s another criteria to consider: did they reach their potential?  There are some villains - actually A LOT of them - in the Marvel movies that are good on paper, but didn’t reach their fully potential, either because they lacked time or the writing just didn’t give them enough to do.  A number of the guys on this list would be higher if they hadn’t been, essentially, wasted by the screenwriters.

There are also some antagonists in the Marvel movies who I don’t really think qualify for the villain label - they were obstacles the heroes had to overcome, sure, but they weren’t meant to be full on SUPERVILLAINS.  There’s nothing wrong with that - hell, I honestly prefer stories to have multiple kinds of antagonists, because it makes the world more complex and interesting.  I’ll give these successful non-villains some honorable mentions.

Let’s dive in then!

As it currently stands, Loki is the best Marvel villain.  I know, I know, a lot of you hate Loki because teenage girls think Tom Hiddelston is cute, but has ANY villain in the Marvel movies gotten even close to as much development as he has?  Loki was one of the strongest aspects of the first Thor movie, with a sinister cunning backed by motives we could understand but not condone.  This guy has reasons for being the bad guy he started as - hell, the main one, his dad, is also the father of the hero he arches for, Thor.  From the start there was complexity and intrigue built into him, and his devious mind presented a great problem for not only Thor but also the three other big names in the first Avengers lineup - because while Captain America, the Hulk, and Iron Man can all hit really hard, those powers aren’t really great at beating a scheme.

Loki also opened the door (literally) for a greater scale of threats and scope of story possibilities in the universe.  Then, once his big starring villain moment in The Avengers came and went, he proceeded to take a slow but well done turn from villain to hero - one fraught with missteps and backsliding.  He didn’t turn into a good guy easily.  Again, he was arguably the best part of Thor: the Dark Wold, a movie that’s kind of a low point in the series (and yet one that’s still far from bad, because that’s how Marvel do).  Admittedly, Loki wasn’t the high point of Thor: Ragnorok, though that’s only because Thor: Ragnorok was great in so many other ways, taking a series that was up till that point a more middling part of the greater Marvel Franchise and making it one of the best.  Notably, Ragnorok finally allowed Loki to complete his turn to hero, all while keeping his personality traits that we’ve grown to love.  No villain has been better served by the franchise, and likewise none has served it better.

The first Guardians of the Galaxy had so much work to do - not only did it have to introduce us to and get us to love the five weirdest fucking superheroes of the franchise so far, but it also had to introduce the entire Space Opera side of Marvel’s universe to us - infinity stones, celestials, various planets with various sapient species with a great and varied history.  We had to learn about Groots and children of Thanos and the Kree and the Nova Corps and the Ravagers - we can forgive that movie for having a weak villain, especially given the fact that it had FIVE protagonists to develop meaningfully instead of one like every movie before it.

Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2, by contrast, has a lot less to do.  Its heroes are introduced, as are a lot of great supporting characters, so in that regard it just had to follow through on what it had already built.  That gave the writers significantly more time to work on the antagonist, and the result was Ego, the second best Marvel movie villain.  Though his relationship with Quill is first and foremost, Ego also has meaningful thematic ties to the other heroes as well - he’s an abusive father of unfathomable power, much like Gamora and Nebula’s adoptive father Thanos, he’s an inherently lonely being that longs for a familial connection that may well be lost to him, like Drax, Rocket, and Groot, he’s a deeply flawed parent figure to Peter much like Yondu, and, well, he’s personally isolated and abused Mantis.  Ego’s motives are understandable but reprehensible.  We feel his pathos - no one wants to be alone, and most people can understand the desire to reconnect with one’s offspring - but we also know he can’t be allowed to succeed.  The threat he brings is palpable, and his conflict changes all the heroes in a meaningful way.

Like most Marvel movie villains, Ego dies in his debut, but to the film’s credit, Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2 makes every second of his screentime count.  We could have gotten more tales from Ego, but if this is his only one, then I feel we can say his potential was used well.

Like Guardians of the Galaxy, Black Panther had a lot of stuff on its narrative plate.  While it had a slight headstart in introducing its titular hero thanks to Civil War, it still has to do a lot of work to make us understand who T’Challa is, while also introducing Okoye, M’Baku, Wakanda’s greatest export Shuri, Nakia, and oh yeah, the Afrofuturistic country of Wakanda.  It also had to justify the existence of fakeout villain Ulysses Klaue and unnecessary white man Martin Freeman for, I imagine, the comfort of the white executives taking a “gamble” on a big budget movie with a predominately non-white cast, because somehow that was even more ludicrous in Hollywood’s eyes than a movie starring a talking racoon and an Ent.

where was I?

Oh, right, my point is that there was significantly less narrative space for Killmonger than the two villains above him, and that’s the SOLE reason he’s at number three here.  Killmonger’s motives are just as complex as Loki’s, and he is as thematically relevant to the MANY heroes opposing him in this film as Ego is in Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2.  And he gets a lot of good development!

but... Killmonger dies at the end of Black Panther.  He dies when there is so, SO much more story we could have gotten out of him.  And while his story in the film is well told for the most part, some of it is abbreviated.  This dude needs, nay, DESERVES more time.  If they retcon his death and bring him back for a sequel, Killmonger may very well climb to the top of this list.

Thanos is the only villain on this list who is arguably the protagonist of a Marvel film - really, Avengers Infinity War is his movie more than anyone else’s.  He does a lot of the same stuff as the three villains before him - his motives are understandable, the threat he poses is immense, he challenges the heroes, and at the same time has thematic connections to... well, some of them (look there’s significantly more heroes in Infinity War than there are in Thor, The Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy, and Black Panther, so cut him a little slack).  But he’s a bit weaker at all those ways except for the “level” of threat he poses.  The only heroes he’s really intimately tied to are Gamora and Nebula - for everyone else, his threat is more general than personal.  Sure, he’s a lot more SUCCESSFUL at killing named characters than the previous three villains on this list, but if you think all of those deaths are gonna stick you’re a very gullible person.  Ultimately, Thanos’ character had to sacrifice narrative complexity for the sake of establishing a higher scale of threat, and the result if a character that’s a bit weaker than Marvel’s best - but still pretty damn good.  I mean, he was good enough to feel like a credible threat to a literal army of superheroes - that’s gotta count for something.

Funnily enough, the Vulture is kind of on the opposite side of things from Thanos.  The threat he poses is significantly lower stakes than the villains that preceded and followed him - and, oddly enough, that’s in his favor.  He felt new as a result.  This wasn’t a guy who was starting wars or committing genocides - he’s just an asshole who sells illegal and highly dangerous weapons.  His motives are understandable, too - dude wants to give his family a good life, and this just happened to be a solution to that problem (if not a moral one).  He’s much closer to the kind of “villain” an average person would be affected by in real life.

At the same time, well, he’s not a world shaking villain.  He does what he’s meant to do well, sure, but he wasn’t meant to be the next Loki - he’s a one shot filler villain for a movie that was really about introducing its hero to us.  There are a LOT of villains who were meant for that niche, and of those villains, Vulture is the cream of the crop.

Though she was going to be higher, didn’t you?

My immense attraction to her aside, Hela is... kinda flat.  Her motivations are kinda weak - she’s a warhawk who wants to start wars and was kicked out of Asgard for starting wars too much and now is back to start some more wars because... because war is cool, I guess.  Cate Blanchett’s wonderfully campy performance elevates the material she’s been given a lot, don’t get me wrong, but objectively... Hela’s not very interesting.  In terms of her relation to the hero, she’s basically Loki except with no development or intrigue - yeah, she’s technically Thor’s sister, but we don’t feel a familial bond between them, so their conflcit doesn’t really get any intrigue out of that.  Hela isn’t really a character - she’s a conflict, as developed and emotionally complex as the tornadoes in Twister.

I hate to say it, because I love Thor: Ragnorok and just, like, the concept of a Goddess of Death played by Cate Blanchett, but Hela just isn’t very well developed.  She’s a lot of wasted potential - wasted potential made very... entertaining by Cate Blanchett’s... entertaining performance, but if it weren’t for the skills of the actress playing her and, uh, some aesthetic preferences on my part, she’d be even lower on the list.

Hey, speaking of really good actors who played elf leaders Lord of the Rings, here’s Red Skull!  And, like Hela, he’s kind of wasted.  Movie Red Skull is basically the cartoonishly exaggerated caricature pop culture has made nazis into - “evil” in the Snidley Whiplash sense, but not evil in the have-you-actually-read-up-on-how-fucking-horrifying-the-holocaust-is sense.  And, look, I understand that bringing in the actual horrors of the holocaust in a movie about a guy who’s basically wearing the American flag as a costume could very easily become uncomfortably misguided, but the defanging of the nazis - I’m sorry, HYDRA, the “more evil” nazis who somehow don’t do any of the actually ridiculously evil shit nazis did - that Red Skull represents isn’t a great solution to that problem.

Movie Red Skull is less complex than Cobra Commander.  He is pure “I’m evil because... because!” villainy.  He’s less deep than Hela, and unlike Hela’s actress, Hugo Weaving was kind of phoning it in.  There’s some hammy fun in Red Skull, sure, but he could have had so much more impact than he did.

Ronan the Accuser’s motives are a bit better defined than Red Skull’s.  His people have been in an on again, off again war with the rival civilization of Xandar, and yeah, that’s a tale as old as time - dude wants to destroy a country because they fought his country in the past and all that, happens all the time, fine and dandy.  But... while we can understand that because it’s basically the bulk of human history, we never really feel it, y’know?  Xandar and the Kree’s history is TOLD to us, not shown, and as a result we don’t really FEEL Ronan’s motivation.

So what does that leave us with?  Well, a very shouty and hammy performance by his actor done from under some thick makeup.  It’s fun and campy, but Ronan’s a filler starter villain - he’s weak so the heroes may have time to be strong.  It’s fine - he does his job - but he’s not what he could have been.

Although I will say, the moment where his brain just short circuits when Peter Quill stops their fight to challenge him to a dance off?  Hands down the most satisfying thing in the entire Marvel universe.

Aww yeah, here’s an interesting guy!  Isn’t this not at all underwhelming after the colorful cast of characters above?  Look, it’s... a dude!  A white dude!  Swell!

Zemo is, like, the less-good prototype for Killmonger.  Dude got fucked over by American Imperialism and blames the superheroes for it, using a bunch of dastardly tricks and cunning schemes to create strife in their ranks!  He does it well enough, and he’s got a good amount of pathos, and the actor playing him does the job very well, but... c’mon, do you really want to see more of this guy?  Did you even remember his name?  He’s just complex enough to get the job done, but just boring enough to let the movie focus on its REAL conflict, which is the titular super hero Civil War.  Like the Vulture before him, he’s just as good as he needs to be - but since he didn’t need to be as good as the villains higher up, he didn’t reach those heights.

Also it should be noted that comic book Zemo looks OUTRAGEOUS and interesting and fun so it’s kind of a shame that, like, exactly 0% of that was translated into film.  You could have called this character Greg Fucktruck or whatever instead and saved that character for a movie where, like, he could be interesting and cool, instead of a one off filler villain.

Robert Redford begins as a good guy in Captain America: The Winter Soldier and initially feels like a reasonable authority figure, only to be revealed as a secret bad guy in a surprising plot twist!  It’s effective, but as villains go. he’s just, like, a guy.  He’s a guy in a suit.  Not a supervillain suit, just a... a normal suit.  He wields a lot of power and has an evil plan and is played charismatically by a very good actor, but like Zemo, he’s not exactly memorable.  I mean, fuck, I just listed him as Robert Redford because I couldn’t remember his character name and didn’t want to look it up.

Y’know how I said Zemo is the crappy prototype for Killmonger?  Yeah, well, Whiplash is the shitty prototype for Zemo.  Same motives but shittier, same personal connection to the hero but shittier, same critique of American Imperialism but much, much shittier.  At least he loved his bird, though.

I couldn’t find a gif of his monster form, but the Abomination is... uh... he’s a guy... a mercenary?  And he turns into a monster.  That’s neat.  Turning into a monster is the sole reason he’s this high on the list.  And I couldn’t even find a gif of it.

Ullyses Klaue was a boring, one dimensional filler villain who was given some fun quirks by his actor, Andy Serkis, but ultimately failed to not be boring and was thankfully killed off halfway through the movie so the actually interesting villain of the movie could take center stage in a surprise twist that made said interesting villain all the more memorable.  He died so a better plot may live, and a better character immediately filled his shoes.  Rest in peace, you boring ass red herring of a villain.

“I’m selling the entire universe to a hell dimension because the hell dimension doesn’t have death because there is no time!  That’s a complex motive, right?  Right?”  No, c...caecilian?  Cesarian?  Caeser Millan?  No it’s not.  I mean, an attempt was made, I guess?  It’s technically a different motive than past villains?  I guess?  This guy is the “You Tried” sticker of Marvel’s movie villains.

Ultron tried to be so, SO much more than most of the characters on this list.  In terms of authorial intent, he would rank higher - they were really, REALLY trying with him!  They really were!

But, for me, Ultron fails in everything he tries to be. That’s why he’s this low on my list - not because he’s not complex, not because he’s a boring concept, but because there was so much potential and effort here and it was all WASTED, and that is so much more frustrating than the boring villains that preceded him on this list!

Like... comic book Ultron is a giggling, manic lunatic of a villain, full of energy and intensity that is so unlike most of Marvel’s rogues gallery, especially those that made it to the films.  The default movie villain is “smug, disinterested bad guy who talks way too much and takes himself too seriously.”  Comic book Ultron ISN’T that.  Comic book Ultron is fun and passionate and coo-coo for coco puffs bonkers bananas!  And yet he’s also got a lot of pathos - he’s a new life form whose creator didn’t know how to nurture properly, who grew too fast for his unwitting parent to deal with.  There’s a tragedy to Ultron.

Also, he’s an awesome robot man with a scary as fuck unmoving robot mask that looks like some alien skull that is both screaming in fury and laughing in maniacal glee at the same time.  Like, visually, comic book Ultron is really good.

And... and an effort was made to capture some of that, but it failed.  They tried to capture Ultron’s loopy thought process, but in reality they just made his motivations and plan a fucking mess that’s impossible to parse.  They tried to give him a good design, but ditched the iconic and creepy screaming skull mask in favor of... weird robo lips, and then stuck those on a Michael Bay transformer body.  They took his manic personality and, well, chucked it out in favor of...

Well, a smug, disinterested bad guy who talks too much and takes himself too seriously.

Ultron should have been something we hadn’t seen before, or at least not recently - he should have been, well, Comic Book Ultron.  Instead, they forced him into the mold of MOST Marvel villains, and forced his design into the mold of the most profitable robot designs at the then-current time: the Michael Bay transformers.  The result was so disappointing.  It’s heart breaking.

You know what they should have imitated, but didn’t?  Darth Vader.  Darth Vader is perhaps the most well known movie villain of all time, and certainly the most lucrative.  You know what Darth Vader has?  An immovable mask that is iconic and terrifying and brought to life by a passionate, inspired vocal performance from the actor playing him.

Ultron is most effective at the very end of the movie, when he’s speaking through his drone, which DOES have that immovable, scream/laughter face of his comic counterpart.  It’s way more unsettling and interesting to watch, even if James Spader’s performance in that part still has that smug, bored disinterest to it.  I know this sounds like a minor point but really, it’s one of the many big missed opportunities of this character, and it’s a damn shame.

Malekith is a shitty prototype for Ronan the Accuser, played by an actor of great talent who was given absolutely nothing to work with from the script and then had his performance hampered by thick makeup.  Malekith sucks.

There are, like, fifty evil businessmen who want superhero technology to make money via evil in the Marvel movies.  They all have different names and different actors and they’re all boring and they suck.  They suck hard.  They’re all the exact same character, and the fact that some of them are played by really good actors sucks doubly hard because those good actors could have played, like, someone INTERESTING instead.  Fuckin’ Sam Rockwell?  You waste Sam Rockwell’s talents on this bland stereotype of a character?  You wasted the Fucking Dude on this?  Christ.

Honorable Mentions pt. 1: the Not-Really-Villains

Jeff Goldblum’s performance as the Grandmaster is a gift that humanity must treasure till the end of its days and beyond.  He is so delightfully weird and charming in every scene he’s in and I would watch a thousand movies with this character in him.  So why isn’t he on the villains list?  Well, because he’s... not really a villain.  He’s an antagonist, sure, and on paper he sounds pretty villainous - tyrannical ruler of a planet who forces people into gladiator games and all that.

But in execution he’s more of... a goof.  He’s basically Michael Scott from The Office - a weird fucking idiot who was given way too much power and weilds it irresponsibly.  He causes problems that can ruin peoples’s lives, sure, but, like, he’s entirely unaware of what he’s doing.  He’s not consciously evil - he’s just a silly bastard who doesn’t understand the consequences of his actions.  He’d be harmless if you took him out of that power structure.

When we first meet him, he metls a guy with a stick.  Most movies would play that for horror.  In Thor: Ragnorok, it’s a comedy beat.  Audiences lose their shit laughing at the dark comedy of that moment.  The Grandmaster COULD have been played as a villain, but instead he was played as a buffoonish antagonist - and he’s BETTER for that.  He’s more memorable for that.

Bucky is a great antagonist in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but he’s not a villain.  He’s a victim - you can’t hold brainwashed, mind-controlled man accountable for his actions, as everything he’s done was carried out specifically because his own will was overridden.  Bucky’s a damn good character, and if this was a ranking of ANTAGONISTS he’d be up in the top five, but you can’t call the dude a villain.

There are a lot of henchmen in the movies that were full on villains in the comics, like Skurge and Crossbones and so on.  But, look - in the films, these guys are just henchmen.  Some of them are very fun, very interesting henchmen - I chose Skurge to represent them for a reason - but they aren’t VILLAINS.  They aren’t the focus.  They’re a side dish, not the main course.

Holy shit I posted this only to remember Dormammu’s been in a movie ten minutes later while getting cereal.  Movie Dormammu isn’t a villain or a henchman - he’s a cameo, much as Thanos was until very recently.  He fills the same narrative role as a McGuffin - he’s the big bad weapon we have to stop the villain from using.  He’ll probably get to be a character in later movies, but for now he’s little more than a prop.  Fuck, I couldn’t even find a gif of his movie self - had to use his comic counterpart instead.

Honorable Mentions Pt. 2: Sirs And Madamns Not-Appearing-In-These-Films

So the Marvel movies technically share the same universe as various T.V. shows, though at this point the likelihood of that ever being played for more than a few winking nods and veiled references is PRETTY LOW.  Most of these series are designed to be binge watched on Netflix - i.e. consumed all at once, from the comfort of a couch, so the audience can enjoy a longer form story than an individual movie without having to wait several months between installments.  That’s a very different writing task than writing a MOVIE villain - structurally, it’s significantly different, with a whole lot of different problems and possibilities.  Judging the villains of the shows by the same criteria as we judge the villains of the movies isn’t fair - the villains of the shows have a LOT more time on their hands to prove who they are, and without long gaps.  Loki, the villain with the most screentime in the movies, still had less time for his arc than, say, Kilgrave, and Loki’s arc was staggered in two and a half hour chunks with years in between them, while Kilgrave’s story could be consumed all at one upon release.  That’s not a fair fight.

That said, I want to talk about some of the TV villains:

Kilgrave is the single most complex, terrifying, and overall effective villain the Marvel Cinematic Universe has produce, at least from all the content I’ve seen.  None of the other villains (that I’ve seen) are explored as thoroughly, none of them are as personally tied to every facet of the hero they oppose, and none of them - not even world ending Thanos - are as starkly fucking terrifying the depths of their depravity and the strength they have to achieve it.  Kilgrave is brilliantly written, and David Tenant outdoes himself in bringing him to monstrous life.  He is the best villain the MCU has produced.

You know how a lot of the movies have somewhat bland villains by necessity, because giving them too much narrative weight would keep them from properly introducing the hero?  Cottonmouth would have that problem had Luke Cage been introduced in a movie instead of a show.  As it is, Cottonmouth still feels like a “starter” villain - he’s a normal sort of criminal, not a Supervillain - but at the same time, he’s a damn complex and interesting starter villain.  He’s miles ahead of most of the movie villains, but it’s purely because he’s got a lot more time to develop.

Diamondback, by contrast, has a really interesting concept, but is kind of bland in execution.  The show builds him up very well, but slowly drops the ball once he finally shows up in the final half of the season.  Maybe a second season can make good on his concept, but as it is he was kind of mishandled.

I watched about three episodes of Dardevil.  It was very good, but there was a scene where Daredevil tortured a criminal to get information out of him to stop crimes, and that is a dealbreaker for me.  I don’t care if they “explored the ramifications” of it - as far as I’m concerned, when a character tortures someone for information, they are no longer sympathetic and I cannot call them a hero.  I will not watch the rest of that show.

I’ve heard Wilson Fisk is VERY well handled and interesting from enough people to feel that’s almost certainly true.  Shame I can’t see it.

Outside of Jessica Jones and Luke Cage, I also watched two seasons of Agents of SHIELD  as well as The Defenders.  I can’t remember any of the villains from either.  I mean, there definitely were some, but I can’t remember a single one.  Unless we count Danny Rand - I certainly felt personally victimized every time he opened his shitty mouth to say some shitty dialogue and take some screentime from Jessica Jones and Luke Cage in The Defenders. Or the writers of Agents of SHIELD for killing Lucy Lawless off in the same episode they introduced her into the show, thus denying us an awesome character played by Lucy fucking Lawless.  But other than that, I don’t know the TV villains that well.

[marigoldbaker]

regarding honor and honesty in the workplace (25/43)

read it on ao3!!

from the personal files of Jenny Calendar:

I lucked out, I think. I have three amazing daughters and a partner who, according to the nurse, is due to all-the-way wake up any day now. Maybe a dramatic noir romance isn’t something I really want in my life if it can go so drastically fucking south, but I wish I had figured that out in a way that hadn’t hurt Rupert so many times.

It was two days later, when Buffy and Faith were at the vending machine and Dawn had gone to use the bathroom, that Lilah came in, wearing all black and looking subdued but still composed. Jenny stood up immediately, positioning herself in front of Rupert and trying her hardest to stare Lilah down in a tough, fearless way.

“I’m not here to shoot you,” said Lilah calmly.

“You know,” said Jenny shakily, “you’d have a lot more credibility if you didn’t have to specify that before talking to me.”

“Jenny—”

“Leave,” said Jenny.

“Please,” said Lilah. “Please just listen to me. I want to help—”

“By actually shooting me this time?” Jenny gave Lilah a thin, sardonic smile. “By lying to me? I’ve had an influx of panicked texts and calls over the last few days from all the different people you told me to track down. I told them I was giving their information to someone who would be able to keep them safe. You never hired me to take down Wolfram and Hart, did you? You’ve been working for them from the beginning. You hired me because you needed a trustworthy face to lure all these people out.”

“Fuck it,” said Lilah, throwing up her hands. “You know what? Fine. I used you. I did. But I didn’t lie when I said you meant something to me—”

“Yeah, I really got that impression when you shot Rupert,” said Jenny sharply, and a little too loudly. She pressed her lips together, glanced over at a still-unconscious Rupert, and lowered her voice to say, “You know what I always thought was so fucking attractive about you? I liked that you were honest with me. I like people who don’t lie to me. That’s one of the drawbacks of being a detective, I guess—you find out all the stuff about people that you never wanted to know.”

Lilah flinched and looked down, running a shaking hand through her hair. “Jenny,” she said. “Please. I-I know you have every right to be mad at me, but you have to understand—”

“This is what you meant,” said Jenny. “About your ruining relationships. You’ve done this to other detectives before, haven’t you? Gotten them to bring out the people you need and made them disappear?”

“I’ve killed other detectives,” said Lilah, looking up at her with that same quiet sadness. “I’ve walked up to them and shot them and made them disappear without even having to think about it. That’s the kind of stuff I do, Jenny. That’s why I’ve always said you wouldn’t look at me the same way if you knew the kind of things I’ve done.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t,” said Jenny. “Play the victim with me again and I’ll kill you right here in this hospital room.”

Lilah smiled a little sadly. “You’re not a killer,” she said, almost affectionately. “Jenny, I came here because—because I want to cut you a deal.”

“Oh, yeah, like I’m going to trust anything you’re about to say,” Jenny scoffed.

“You don’t really have a choice,” said Lilah matter-of-factly, “because, see, I know everything I need to about you and Rupert and those three little girls you two are taking care of. I have a law firm at the ready that’ll do anything to protect the sensitive information both you and he know about, and I have no qualms about getting them to kill your daughters. It’d hurt a little, knowing—” She smiled, and it quivered in a terrifyingly human way, “—knowing how much that would hurt you, but when it comes to Wolfram and Hart, there really is no getting out alive unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

Jenny stared at her. “My daughters,” she said. “You would bring my daughters into this.”

“I really am sorry,” said Lilah, and it was clear that she was, but she said it so sweetly and so earnestly that it was almost nauseating. She was talking about the lives of Jenny’s daughters like they were as disposable and replaceable as a set of paper plates. As inconsequential as a cup of coffee. “It’s just business.”

“It’s my daughters,” said Jenny, almost sobbing, and noticed vaguely that she was clutching at the bedspread near Rupert. And it wasn’t the threat that hurt so much—it was that it was Lilah threatening her. Lilah, with her bright eyes and her biting kisses and her soft, capable hands. Lilah, threatening her as effortlessly as though it was something she did every day, and still with that amiable warmth that made it clear Jenny really was important to her. This was how Lilah treated the people she cared about. “I trusted you,” Jenny said.

Lilah’s smile wavered. “Trust is an illusion,” she said, “and there’s no real honesty in this line of work. I’d think you of all people should know that by this point.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Jenny knew with a sudden clarity that this would be the last time she saw Lilah in this context. The next time she saw Lilah, there would be clearer lines drawn, and Lilah would no longer be quite so ambiguously labeled. No longer a maybe-girlfriend or a possibly-love—Lilah was, first and foremost, a threat, and both of them knew it. “What kind of deal do you want to cut?” said Jenny finally, flatly.

Lilah nodded. Then she said, “I was going to offer that you run away with me, but—that seems unlikely, now,” and here her gaze moved almost knowingly to Rupert, then back up to Jenny. Jenny felt a sense of shame at that, and resented it, staring Lilah down. “What I’m offering you instead is simple: you promise me that you will never again seek out a case that falls under the jurisdiction of Wolfram and Hart, and I won’t hurt you, your family, or that sweet little Tara girl your daughter Faith seems to have taken a liking to—none of the witnesses, actually.”

“What about Angel Investigations?” Jenny asked.

“Angel Investigations has been a consistent thorn in our side,” said Lilah matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing I can do to protect them. Besides which, it’s headed by that good-for-nothing Liam, and hasn’t he caused you enough trouble already? I’d say this is a fairly good deal coming from someone who could kill your entire family with a snap of her fingers.”

Jenny looked at Lilah for a long time.

“Or,” said Lilah, and took out that same revolver she’d used to shoot Rupert, shifting it idly from one hand to the other. Jenny tensed. “Don’t look so nervous,” said Lilah, giving Jenny a light, breezy smile. “If you’re not going to cut a deal with me, I don’t really have any choice. I’ll kill him, and I’ll send a few people in to kill your daughters while they’re—vending machine and bathroom, isn’t that where they are right now?”

“Lilah,” said Jenny shakily. “Why didn’t you just kill me in that alley?”

For the first time since she’d entered the room, Lilah’s composure faltered. She didn’t seem able to meet Jenny’s eyes. “I’d never seen you look at me like that before,” she said. “Like I wasn’t the person you thought I was. I-I couldn’t kill you while you were looking at me like—”

“Like you just shot the guy I love more than most things in this world,” said Jenny, and knew on instinct how to twist the knife. “More than you, definitely.”

Something dark and furious flashed in Lilah’s eyes as she looked first at Jenny, then again at Rupert. “You’re kidding,” she said. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. You told me—you said he was just a friend, and now you’re telling me that—”

“I’ll take your deal, Lilah,” said Jenny, talking over her with an easy smile. God, but it felt good to hurt Lilah back. “We won’t touch Wolfram and Hart cases as long as Rupert and my girls stay safe.”

Lilah raised the gun and took two steps forward, pointing it at Jenny. Her hands were shaking.

“You’re weak,” said Jenny. “You’re a weak lawyer, and a weak asset, and I know that now, and maybe Wolfram and Hart has me over a barrel right now, but someday I’m going to get you and I’m going to rip you to shreds for what you did to the man I love. We got that?”

There was a moment where Jenny wasn’t sure whether or not Lilah would shoot her—and there was a moment where Lilah herself didn’t seem sure either. But then Lilah let the gun drop, pocketing it without finesse, and strode out of the hospital room with uneven, furious steps. Halfway down the hall, she buried her face in her hands and slumped against the wall.

Jenny watched Lilah for one last painful moment, and then she shut the door and turned back to the bed, which was when she saw that Rupert’s eyes were open. Very barely, but he was looking at her with a sort of quiet concern that made her feel like she might shatter into a thousand pieces.

“Jenny,” he said, very quietly, and as though it cost him a lot of effort and energy just to say her name.

Jenny took two clumsy steps forward and collapsed onto the bed next to him, burying her face in his shoulder. Rupert rolled over onto his side and tugged at her waist, as though she couldn’t possibly be close enough to him in that moment, even though she was all but pressing herself against him.

All Jenny was letting herself think about was how comfortingly wonderful it was to be this close to him and know he was alive. She wasn’t thinking about him being shot, or how scary it was to suddenly have so many romantic feelings for him, or the absolute mess that was the situation with Wolfram and Hart, or anything else that might destroy what felt like a terrifyingly breakable moment.

“Oh, darling,” said Rupert into her hair, his voice muffled and shaking. Jenny squeezed her eyes shut and smiled.

The girls arrived again and had similarly explosive reactions to seeing that Rupert was awake. Faith started crying again, Dawn let out a shriek at a decibel only a thirteen-year-old could reach, and Buffy sort of just ran forward and settled herself into Rupert’s other side, half-sobbing “dad dad dad” like a mantra. Rupert looked somewhat overwhelmed.

“It’s family,” said Jenny, who had no intention of ever moving from Rupert’s arms, ever. “You get used to it.”

Rupert smiled a little and rested his chin on the top of her head. Jenny felt a rush of butterflies that threatened to lift her to the ceiling.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Yo man, I hear that the Blackfyres and their supporters were Conservative, sexist, brutish usurpers who couldn't stand to see a feminist king on the throne but here you are, an honest to God bra burning, women's lit thumping feminist unironically supporting the Black Dragon. In this entire fandom you're the only person I've found openly supporting them. If you don't mind me asking, why do you like them so much?

Hey dude, you’re asking me to talk about sexism, fandom hypocrisy, and my Blackfyre love in an inflammatory way that could result in getting me in trouble with the fandom? I probably shouldn’t be answering this, but ok. This has been sitting in my inbox for a week, and let no one say that I leave any ask unanswered. Wankery found under the cut:

Eyy dude, what if I told you that the perception of Blackfyres as sexist, brutish usurpers in fandom is largely due to some prominent people’s intellectual elitism and projection of neoliberal political views? Aspects of GRRM’s writing like the unreliable narrator, villains-are-heroes-from-another-side, and history is written by the “victors” are given no credibility in favor of condemning the Blackfyre supporters as racist, sexist, and ableist (?) in fandom. I’m extremely annoyed that no one seems to be asking the sort of questions or making the sort of connections that I have due to this blanket ban on Blackfyre sympathy. I’ve answered your broader question on why I supported the Blackfyres in an earlier ask (they were more honorable, less absolutist and cruel than the Targaryens, even demonstrated some meritocracy, and most died horrifically) so I will try to answer based on the sexism angle: How come I like the Blackfyres so much and support woman’s liberation at the same time?

First of all, you come into my askbox and tell me that Daeron II was a feminist king? Nah bro. A real male feminist ally in a position of power would’ve passed laws to ensure his father’s predatory behavior would be banned. He would’ve been trying to apologize for the way he and his father treated the Bracken sisters and actively sought to make amends instead of making the situation worse. He could’ve given widows a pension or granted certain protections to mothers with illegitimate children. He could’ve opened up exit shelters for prostituted women wanting to learn a trade, as Empress Theodora did back in sixth century AD Byzantium. Why does fandom think he is so Feminist™ when he did so little for women? Are they referring to him having Princess Elaena as an unofficial advisor while her husband Ronnel Penrose was Master of Coin, a man who could barely string two numbers together? (Which really undermines the claim that Daeron was a reformer who chose wise men as councilors, since he selected an incompetent based on his own family status) Might I remind everyone that Daeron arranged Elaena’s second marriage in the first place, a woman 3 years his elder who had been locked in prison for 11 years by her brother, bore illegitimate twins by her cousin, forced to wed an old man by her uncle/Aegon, and may have been forced into sleeping with the horrific Aegon IV? You’d think after enduring so much at the hands of her male relatives, the Kind™ Daeron would’ve backed off, but she has to pay for his son Aerys’ failed marriage by sacrificing her hard-won independence. How feminist. But I guess it’s OK, because after Ronnel died Daeron generously gave his blessing when she wed someone she truly loved! I can’t imagine she felt much affection for this entitled shit. But maybe the Great Fandom Minds™ are referring to how Daeron treated his wife Myriah, who is a blank slate in terms of personality and political actions? I can’t even think of any other names of women Daeron might’ve canonically “empowered”, so how exactly is he a feminist? And why does thinking he was a self-serving politician who treated all of his family members except his sons like expendable trash make me sexist? Do tell, Fandom Minds who know so much more than I.

By contrast, how does liking Daemon Blackfyre and thinking he’d be a better king than Daeron make one sexist? Eustace Osgrey said that he hung out with warriors rather than septons and women, but GRRM himself said that Daemon did have female followers (some we know even participated in the Second Blackfyre Rebellion, like Ladies Vyrwell and Smallwood. Not to mention the cause owes its continued strength after Redgrass to Queen Rohanne) who were “drawn to him.” There’s the rumors that Daemon thought that he could marry Princess Daenerys and Rohanne of Tyrosh, but even the biased Maester Yandel said that claim only developed long after the wedding from a few Blackfyre supporters, which is a few steps removed from the original source. I believe that version of the story was an attempt by the Westerosi Blackfyre supporters to acknowledge Rohanne of Tyrosh’s invaluable contributions to the cause of the exiles while still maintaining the romanticism of a Daemon/Daenerys forbidden romance. It absolutely blows my mind that Daemon gets more flak for what he might have said at fourteen than Daeron does for helping a teenaged girl and her two-week-old son get banished for something her father said. Because Daeron is called “the Good” and thus incapable of doing wrong, obviously.

But outrageously, the fandom has to headcanon abusive behavior on Daemon to make him look like a villain. Seriously, I’ve heard people claim he was an abusive father to Daemon II, cheated on or never loved Rohanne, would have killed his nephews, and tried to rape Princess Daenerys based on no canonical evidence (in fact, the evidence goes against the honorable father of at least nine presented in canon). Even a Daemon-hater like Yandel had to concede that Daemon’s love was for the mother of his children to whom he was married for 12 years. Daemon died protecting his son Aegon from the Raven’s Teeth arrows; he’d never hurt his children. As for the children of others, his faction during the First Blackfyre did not kill children (in fact, Quentyn Ball spared Lady Penrose’s youngest son, some say on Daemon’s orders), especially not those too young to fight. The fandom’s portrayal of Daemon as a vicious monster really serves to emphasize how little evidence they have that Daeron II was a truly good person; the man with grudges against two of his father’s underaged rape victims isn’t a hero, so they have to make his rival an even bigger villain despite it being complete nonsense in canon? Can I have at least a balanced depiction of a Daemon who loved his wife and kids, even if they do think he was an ambitious reactionary?

An especially infuriating piece of fandom hypocrisy is that to make Daemon sexist, they have to demonize or erase all of the female influence in his life. Example one is that for his first 12 years, he was raised as the son of Daena the Defiant, who GRRM said in an SSM raised him alone in the Red Keep. Some people in fandom claim she was an ambitious woman who wanted a son so she could be Aegon’s Queen over Naerys, which is a claim so insulting in its wrongness (Daena could’ve been Queen in her own right, having an illegitimate son actually hurt her chances of queenship and a stable future, she referred to Daemon as hers alone so she never wanted to acknowledge his father, she never agreed to wed a man after Baelor, etc) I’m shocked the people who make it can call themselves feminists with a straight face. Others are kinder toward the Daena-Daemon relationship, saying that Daena must’ve died before Daemon was four so she couldn’t pass on her ideals of honor and self-sacrifice for one’s children; this completely ignores what GRRM said about Daena “raising” Daemon alone, meaning he knew her well enough to remember her. Both these ideas about Daena either demonize one of the most beautiful mother-son pairs in Targaryen history (she loved that kid so much she put him ahead of her own reputation and chance at being Queen. I cry.) or they take away her influence in order to claim that Daemon had no female role models growing up. A mother like Daena, strong-willed, independent, a sportswoman, would’ve doubtless have shaped Daemon’s opinions on women, and especially on mothers of bastards. He may have grown up knowing a woman didn’t necessarily need a husband to be happy, that she could shoot and ride as well as a man, and that a princess could with smallfolk and minor nobles on her own. She was far away from a submissive woman and was Daemon’s sole parent until he was 12, and you mean to tell me her son was a raging misogynist? Nope, I don’t buy it.

Fandom also erases Daemon’s other important female figure: Rohanne of Tyrosh. Elite Tyroshi women are most similar to elite Dornishwomen out of all the ladies of Westeros; I say this because the Archon’s daughter was to serve as a cupbearer for Prince Doran without having been betrothed to Quentyn, indicating that they are valued as political actors for their families outside of marriage alliances. Tyrosh is a mercantile society where the elites don’t like to fight, which traditionally equalizes roles between the sexes. Rohanne was the reason the Blackfyre cause survived for so long; she didn’t need help from Bittersteel escaping to her own fucking country, rather the landless Blackfyre supporters needed her protection after they lost everything at Redgrass. Without her giving them a stable base of operations (and certainly using her dowry to pay for their accommodations), they wouldn’t have been cohesive enough for Aegor to create the Golden Company. I realize that Rohanne has very little canonical characterization, but neither do Princess Daenerys and Myriah Martell, and that doesn’t stop Fandom from writing fanfics and meta on these two while ignoring Rohanne. On a similar note, prominent meta writers claim that the Blackfyre cause is obviously based on the Jacobites (no, Daemon Blackfyre was based in part on James Scott the Duke of Monmouth, who was staunchly anti-Jacobite. Just because these writers don’t know about British history in depth doesn’t mean that they can make spurious claims), and use this comparison to make headcanons for how the Blackfyre court in exile operated. For some Unfathomable reason, these headcanons never include the invaluable contributions that the female Stuarts made to the cause; Queen Mary and Princess Louisa were much more popular than the charmless James II and the drunken womanizer Charles III, having great relations with the French court and funding the education of the daughters of Jacobite exiles (it was said that even Queen Anne wept when Princess Louisa died, for she had hoped to wed her son to him). For a fandom who loves to make headcanons about minor female asoiaf characters, and loves to show off its (rather one-dimensional) knowledge of history, I see no such fics and metas for the female Blackfyres. I guess Feminism™ can’t be wasted on the wives and daughters of “traitors.” Just ask Sansa Stark.

To conclude, Daeron II was not a feminist king who raised the status of women in Westeros; in fact, he used his power as prince and king to banish Barba Bracken and wed Princess Elaena off to an ally. Daemon Blackfyre was raised by a strong single mother and was successfully married to an older foreign woman, and enjoyed female support for his cause, so calling him a misogynist seems like a leap to me. I’d make the argument that it’s Fandom with the misogyny problem, as they ignore the suffering, contributions, and characterization of female characters they don’t like in order to prop up a “sexism” narrative that contradicts canon. Just because other people bleat about how sexist, racist, and ableist Blackfyre supporters like me are, it doesn’t mean it’s true.

[only-embers-remain]

For those of you who don’t know, June is Pride Month. A supposed celebration of everything Queer. And maybe it was that once. Yet I sit here as the month dawns wondering where I fit in a world where such huge things as the Pride Parades exist in every major city in the US. Once it was an act of Defiance against a world that did everything in its power to erase us. To kill us. To ruin us. And for that day that walk in the sun we were invincible for not matter what the world did we still were. No one could take the memories of us away even as they took our lives away.

Now don’t mistake me I know things are better than they once were. I am not going to get arrested today for wearing women’s clothes. I an reasonably expect to not be beat by those more privilege than I well at least in broad daylight. I can tell someone that I am trans and not have them look at me like I just spoke Russian. So in many ways we have much to be proud of. It makes sense in a twisted way that Pride month has become instead of a riot a celebration. That hey look world we are here still. Nice try though. Yet that isn’t the picture. For one month a year I am allowed to be me with out question. I get to be proud of my existence for one month a year. I can expect in more progressive stores and cities things sold catering to my particular demographic or well at least those of us who like rainbows. There isn’t any sign of the pink blue and white flags that represent my specific queerness. Yes let us not go to far after all. For one month of the year I can see books about my people or well those of us who are queer but have little else that hinders them from receiving all the privilege the world is willing to give. Sure you see lesbians, though only ever white ones, and gay couples. You might get to see the lone trans woman and glory in how courageous she is that she wears a dress. Oh my so courageous. It strikes me that Cis People don’t know the meaning of Courageous. They probably don’t after all when have they been so very beaten like we are.

So in this month of pride it is the month to remind me that it is only really this month in which I get to be seen. Though only as a courage piece. As a story for others to consume. Never for my own being. I still will struggle to get my medication that keeps me from ending it all. I will still never be able to find clothes designed to fit a woman who has had the horrific experience of having a testosterone based puberty. I will still get misgendered by even the people who have known me for a year. As if they can’t for some reason see me as the woman I am and not the man that society still tells them I should be. I still have to put in the performance of womanhood to be taken seriously though to be fair so do cis women but at least they only have their credibility on the line not their womanhood. Oh and let us not forget that for this month I get to see how the only way I am allowed to be is if I am white, well to do, preferably male, neurotypical, and quiet about my non-Christian ways. Sure all of those qualifications are specific to the United States but that is really only an addition to shut up the nay sayers. There is one book at the book store that is about non-white experience of queerness, none by those of us on the autistic spectrum, surely no look into how so many of us have PTSD especially in the trans community, no look to how wealth greatly effects this all. I when I say Trans woman there are probably only two names that come to your mind, Caitlyn Jenner, and Laverne Cox. I am proud that a black woman gets to be up there but can you name a single trans man who is famous. I didn’t think so. So yeah let us rename pride for what it really is. Gay White Pride, where the only queer that matters is homosexuals of the cis variety with a sprinkling of trans and crossdressers to add that little spadazzle that makes it feel like a real pride parade. Because crossdressers are totally the same thing as a trans woman, if not better because they make a show of it, make it fun and nothing like reality of the pain of our lives. No of course not. Why aren’t you smiling? You should be smiling.

And you may ask well isn’t any representation good but I want to tell you something, only just. Yes look at all the pretty queers how they sparkle so filled with hot air as to almost be nonexistent. No let us look at what my life is like and why I don’t feel like smiling anymore. Why I want to go back to the riot that was Pride before. See I live in the conflux of a number of underprivileged identifies. Thank god I am white or this would be all the harder. I am homeless and have to deal with the fact that because of my inability to be productive by societal standards I am unwelcome at the calm coffee shops of Seattle. I have to always be tethered to the places that give out low quality food to the teeming masses of us homeless. I haven’t eaten a properly cooked vegetable in over a year. No just carbs and protein for those starving homeless. Moving on from there let us remember that I am a few swayed votes away from loosing my insurance. With it would go my medications, of which I take five different ones on a daily basis. I have over a thousand dollars in pills needed a month to keep me sane. And by sane I mean keep me from cutting up my skin with the knife I have or popping all the pills I can get my hands on in the vain hope that I can go to sleep and never wake up. Depression is not pretty. Oh let us not forget that I also take pills that help me feel human, that let me feel right in my own mind. I run on estrogen and yet my body doesn’t produce it in quantities high enough to be at all functional. Imagine watching a video of some stranger that you have never known and yet they are doing things that you do and things you remember yet they aren’t you. But everything says they should be you. The peep next to you says hey look at this memory of you and I. But it isn’t you and it really never was. Never could be. I really can’t explain dissociation to those who have never felt it and as it effects everyone differently I don’t think there is a close approximation to be had. But remember to smile and be proud. Yeah I feel so accomplished this month in which society tells me oh don’t you worry everything is great now isn’t it. Oh and give us your nonexistent money. Thank you very little.

Yes let us be proud this month. Not outraged that in forty nine states the Trans Panic defense will get you off with murdering a trans woman. All you have to do is say she, or well lets be honest you will say he, didn’t tell you. That you were just so revolted that you had no control over your actions and had to kill her. To beat her. Into a bloody pulp. Oh yeah and that is legal in my state of Washington. It happened this year already in Texas. So yeah. Be proud and happy. Or that I live in one of the ‘gayest’ cities in the US that has a wonderfully gay neighborhood that comes with rainbow crosswalks. So gay. Yeah a neighborhood where trans women can’t be out after dark for fear of being beaten to death. I personally know of six incidents in the first five months of twenty eighteen. All on people I know and I wouldn’t hear of them otherwise. Let’s not look into the violence against trans people of all stripes on the quote gayest neighborhood in the gayest of cities. That is when the violence isn’t being done by the police of course. Not that that happens. Never. Remember smile and be proud. It is our month to exist. But only when we smile of course. Can you see the cracks yet?

Let us not forget history. Every moment of queer liberation has come at the sweat and blood of trans women, often women of color. Stonewall that great moment of rioting. Oh oops I forgot we leave off the riot part. Or that the police were rounding up everyone no mater what they had done. We can make movies of it. Just not with the trans woman who threw the first brick. Who kept the fight going long after the streets had been cleaned and the windows fixed. Yes Marsha P. Johnson is not needed in our gay history. Or of the countless queer people of color who showed up to those first pride parades which were little more than an excuse to pick a fight with the system that hated us. Let us not forget what time we celebrate and why. To honor that first riot, well first recored riot. Same month and to many same day or close to it. Or how trans people have been pushing for every legal reform. Who pushed the 2003 case that got to the supreme court and denounces sodomy laws in all states. Oh little one here several states still have those laws on the books. Oops. Or of Marriage equality. Fuck that we don’t have that. We have federal recognition of a piece of paper. Are our children protected from being torn from us? No. Are we allowed the same medical rights to our loved ones as a straight couple? No. Sure some states are better than others. But not till all are on the same page should we celebrate. I remember being told we had won the fight after that. Ha. By a Drag Queen at a pride parade. A crossdresser who does so for show. I bet you won’t misgender her when she is in costume. Of course not? But what are my pronouns? Yeah I know. So hard to remember. But that fight isn’t over and there are others more important. Conversation therapy. As if you can abuse away the queer. And Abuse it is. Legal in over three quarters of the states. Despite the fact that it tends to kill those it seeks to ‘cure’. But remember we are smiling. Oh and buying. Let us not forget that.

See Pride in Seattle has a long line. Where are the trans people? The fighters of justice? The youth who are our future? At the back behind the likes of Amazon’s wonderful float filled with cis Drag Queens, half of whom are straight while we are at it. Then comes Target, and Microsoft. What the fuck has Microsoft ever done for queer rights? Nothing. Not a damn thing. But they get to be up front so they can advertise, I mean smile and be proud. Sure at least target protects their queer employees. Has desegregated its toy section. Oh my gosh a toy is a toy not specific to gender. What ever will we do? Right. Smile and be proud. For we come after profits. After payments. After the straights. After the pretty shiny ones. Funny isn’t this a queer parade or is it?

So in this month of pride is it any wonder I am left wondering if I should be proud at all. That I wonder why instead of making me want to smile it just brings up more pain and tears. But obviously Pride month has never been for me. Maybe it is for the cis white gay men. Maybe. But I am still here and I will still fight. I won’t be squished by that ever present society. Or well at least I try not to be. There are cracks in the mask and maybe that is where you might find pride. Where the germs gather. Because we aren’t pretty. We aren’t white. We aren’t smiling. But we our proud.

[adriennescomingbacktolife]

           There it was.    The Baltimore City Championship. Resplendent in all of its glory. The golden plates shimmered in the overhead lighting. Encased in glass, it rested on a dark red velvet pillow.    Adrienne Levi shared that bright spotlight. She would be one of the women competing for the honor of representing Carnage Wrestling and its home city at the 100th edition of Chaos. Sitting in a chair, elevated far off the ground, she adjusted a mic clip to the collar of her logo t-shirt.    Looking at the camera, she smiled and asked, “We on?”    The red recording light on the camera answered that question for her. Adrienne exhaled sharply as she considered her words. Here she was, on stage, speaking to an opportunity that rarely comes. Earned through unorthodox means. Against an adversary that had been her partner for the last month.    “I haven’t talked about this much,” Adrienne said as she gestured to the championship on her right, “and to tell the truth, it’s because I didn’t totally believe that this would happen. Everyone has been so gracious in their assessments. That I deserve this. That I’ve come a long way.”    Smiling graciously, she cast a small glance towards the case.    “Thank you.”    Steepling her hands in her lap, Adrienne leaned forward.    “These past few weeks have been challenging. Losing stinks but that isn’t what this is about. I’m not the sort of girl who dwells on one bad night at work.”    Thinking back to former champion Eli Goode, he became more and more unhinged with every defeat. His delusion grew as he talked about which championships mattered and didn’t. It had consumed him.    And everyone now seemed to be an enemy to him. Things that had never been said by her were attributed to her without a second thought.    Nervous to admit, Adrienne saw a strange parallel emerging in her current circumstances.    “No, that isn’t it. I told you all right away. I’m not new to this industry. I don’t have the accolades or credibility of all of you, but that’s okay. Everything I’ve earned has been right here this year. But prior to Carnage, I was,” Adrienne paused, reaching behind her to retrieve a folded up photograph. Carefully, she opened it. For just a second, her eyes narrowed, and her expression could be construed as contempt. She turned the photo forward before continuing. “This was me.”    Adrienne was certainly right in the corner, but this was the “first autograph” she had shared earlier this summer. Someone else was featured prominently: “Magnificent” Danny Levi.    “Well, Danny and me.”    She tossed it aside, and the piece of bent up glossy paper floated down onto the wooden stage.    “You can draw your own conclusions here. Or if you want to, go on to YouTube and look up Danny Levi’s Greatest Hits. I’ve given up trying to remove the compilation of every time he struck me. Clearly, people enjoy watching it more than anything else he ever did. And as you all know, he’s gone.”    This had been no real secret. It’s just something she didn’t want to talk about much. Recent events had forced her hand.    Softer this time, she said, “He’s gone.”        That night was not Adrienne’s best effort. She had been a non factor against Axton Gunn and Sebastian Hawke. Leaving The Dragon Lady to twist in the wind. And in the end, they had lost.    Not that she really cared. Uncharastically, Adrienne left the show early. Within twenty minutes, she was back at Kohaku’s apartment, slowly emptying an unwieldy three-liter jug of zinfandel. Getting on Twitter, she poured out her guts and then logged off. Should have probably not pressed Send on those. Setting down her glass, she hiccuped. Feeling queasy, she realized this was a poor idea. However, it was the only thing she could do to take off the edge.    Everything piled up, and anyone who she thought would understand - was possibly part of the problem. Or reminded her.    The fox had held to his word. Phone number no longer worked. He was long gone. All that was left was that confusing book. Something she couldn’t even wrap her mind around with the rockstar around.    Axton Gunn had upset the apple cart.    It wasn’t him exactly, it was --    There was a sharp knock at the door.    Adrienne tried to remember if she had ordered delivery. Or if it was just one of those “wine and me” sort of evenings.        But before she could get off from the couch, the door opened. She sat there, dumbfounded, as Danny Levi sauntered through the doorway. He had cleaned up nice. Always valued a nice fitting suit.    Giving her a little wave, he smiled, “Surprised, aren’t you?”    “How?”    Raising an eyebrow, he pointed to the wine with an appraising look. “What do you think, Ade?”    Waltzing into the kitchen, he opened the fridge.    Disappointed, he called back out to her. Adrienne hadn’t left the couch as she stared at the still open door, “You aren’t a very generous host, are you? I could go for a nice porterhouse right now.”    Danny entered the living room. Nonchalantly, he plopped down on the couch next to his wife.    “I mean if I weren’t wormfood.” Laughing incredulously, he placed a warm hand on Adrienne’s shoulder. She closed her eyes. His exclamation pierced her mind with ease, “Goddamn. You can’t even look at your old man?”    “Cuz, you aren’t real.”    With deep, slow breathing, she tried to refocus on the night she had been having prior.    “Of course, I’m not real, you dumb bitch. So, just look at me.”    Danny’s arm shot forward, grasping her jaw and twisting her head towards him. He spoke low, hissing through his teeth, “Look. At. Me.”    Adrienne’s slowly opened her eyes. Danny Levi smiled that crooked grin. On closer inspection, his skin was pallid, and he looked like he hadn’t rested for a long long time.    “Good girl.”    He let go. Danny eyed the contents of the coffee table, besides the wine that is. Adrienne had been signing a stack of autographs to mail out in the next few days.    “Doing alright for yourself, aren’t you?” He said insincerely. Grabbing one up, he eyed up the promo photo. It was one in her new full bodysuit. She smiled at the camera, fists balled up, and ready to right. Her looping signature was bold and elegant. “What the fuck are you even wearing here?”    “I like it.”    “Nobody cares what you like.” Chuckling, he moved on, tossing the photo back on the pile. “You remember the good old days? That little blue dress. The first few rows would always try to see up your skirt. Don’t blame them; you were a good piece of ass, Ade.”    Danny pantomimed a chef’s kiss. Adrienne looked back towards the door, and she could have sworn he had left it open as he strolled in.    “Be serious. This is just the worst of who I was. How you choose to remember me, right? We haven’t talked in so long. I know you said goodbye. Disposed of me like garbage. Tossed away that ring of yours into the drink. Moved far, far away. And promised that you’d never think of me again.”    Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Danny drew her in. He smelled of decay.    “But thanks to Axxxxxton,” sarcastically, he exaggerated his name in a manner she was familiar with, “I found you.”    “Wasn’t his fault.”    “I know, I know. Could have been anyone. Fitting it was that piece of Cali trash. Remember the time when I tore up that special poster. Signed just for you, and you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. Moped around for days until I set you straight.”    Danny messed her hair up with an affectionate nuzzle.    “You always come around eventually.”    Adrienne swallowed hard. His imagined touch repulsed him. This past summer, she had seen and heard things she couldn’t begin to explain. And here was another one. But she knew he was gone. She saw the light leave his eyes.    “Side effects of becoming a drunk, I suppose. See, you can run away from mommy, but I’ll always be inside you. Like a parasite, Adrienne.”    Abruptly pushing her away, he then stood up.    “Anything to say for yourself?”    Staring at the ground, Adrienne mumbled to herself, “What’s the point?”    “None really,” he concluded, “I just wanted to see if you had it in you. Here’s your chance. You’re the hero of the story, and I’m the villain. Look at me with all of my flaws, and you’d see I ended up being a truly despicable person. And here you are. You know the truth, you’re right down in the hole with me. You are moldering beside me. You keep manifesting these ways out, but fuck, none of them are real.”    Danny started to take off his suit jacket, folding it neatly on a chair next to the couch.    “So, maybe I should stick around. Perhaps every night, when you’re all by your lonesome, I’ll drop by. We can reminisce about all of the bad times. Maybe you throw me a fuck for old time’s sake. Maybe Fairman takes a break from his eternal rest, and you swallow him whole. As awful as I was, I was always a generous man. You gotta give me that.”    She shook her head, unsteadily. He sat down in the chair. Unzipping his fly, Danny signaled to her with a disingenuous suggestive tone.    “Danny’s had a long day, Ade. Why don’t you--”    Her phone chimed. It startled her, but it also made her realize that she was alone in the literal sense. Gathering her scruples, Adrienne clicked on the notification.    A brief, direct message from Matt Knox. Yo. kidYou're lovedSee you at 100        “I’m just trying to start over.”    Adrienne recalled the conversation she had with Amber last month. Ultimately, she just wanted to prove Danny wrong. She never considered that she’d become so attached to the people here to the point where she would quit an unsatisfying but secure job. Or running away from her family like she were some wronged teenager.    “It hasn’t been smoothest road. But this shot represents something I’ve never had. I’ve always stood in someone else’s shadow. And while I’m not that impressive compared to others, I’ve worked hard to get better.”    She paused, giving the belt another look. Who wouldn’t fantasize about that moment? She would bask in the glow of victory, holding that championship high.    “I deserve this.”    That statement hung in the air. It was something that many have said. Depending on who, it always took on a different feel.    “But not more so than The Dragon Lady.”    Adrienne wanted to give this woman her utmost attention. It was time.    “I guess I’d like to apologize to you formally about the last match. My head wasn’t in the game, and it cost us against a unit that had something to prove. To some, that makes things interesting. Personally, It hasn’t changed much. This was going to happen either way. The next Baltimore City Champion will be one of us.” Adrienne chuckled briefly, “Is that enough sports cliches for you?”    She steeled her resolve. Adrienne always found these next moments difficult, and after Axton, she was perhaps more reluctant than ever.    “We’ve spent a lot of time together. Trained. Ate together. I even met your manager.”    Mameha was impressive. She enjoyed her company, and the excellent tea certainly helped.    “But we always knew that everything led to 100. That every action would be measured. These past few times, I guarantee we’ve studied each other just as much as our opponents. I know my weaknesses. I know that I can’t match your skill or ability. I don’t possess the knowledge you have when it comes to a good fight. But that’s the thing.”    She paused, emoting that this was a realization for the audience to hear.    “I don’t need to. I just need to be me. I know this will be the most challenging match of my life. You aren’t some cartoon villain like Grant or Winter. You’re not lashing out at shadows like Eli Goode. You’re one of the most formidable opponents I’ll ever step into the ring with. Some of your decisions have perplexed others. You gave up an opportunity for the Chaos title to roll in the mud with Alex Winter. It’s not hard to see why.”    Adrienne thought back briefly to Winter. Nobody seemed to be learning the nature of this guy. Every action creates a reaction. Whoever chose to accost Alex has only made it worse.    “He gets under your skin. And by hook or crook, he humiliated you. I think we were fortunate against the likes of Goode and Matthews. Your attention seemed to be on Alex Winter that evening.” She raised her pointer finger in the air as to qualify her statement, “This isn’t to say that you can’t walk and chew gum at the same time but could have been a different story if Goode or Matthews were actually on the same page.”    And that brought her to their most recent outing.    “And while I was far from my best against Gunn and Hawke, I would be remiss if they didn’t get credit for their outstanding teamwork. Their game plan was simple.”    Taking a moment, she leaned forward.    “You.”    And she hated to admit that, but the strategy was plain as day.    “At first, I considered this to be an exhibition of sorts. I had my apprehensions about Axton Gunn. I’ve explained it enough. Sebastian was a little abrasive at first, so it was strange to hear such shining praise from his lips. But I think what you did only served to put a fire under them. It gave them the motivation to work together and wipe away that initial sting of defeat. I still don’t know either of them very well. Axton, sure. He’s a big deal. But personally?” Adrienne shook her head. “So I would hope that this championship is your focus this week.”    The camera panned out slightly to put Adrienne and the title in the shot.    “Because I wouldn’t be a student of the game if I didn’t take advantage. I want to become champion. I’m not sure if I can say it any better. I’m not like the Jack Michaels of old. I’m not Mitch. Or Silvio. Or anyone else for that matter. I just know that it’d mean a lot to represent this company. A company that, despite whatever issues linger, gave me a chance. It would mean everything for me to represent a city and a community that has welcomed me with open arms.”    Shrugging her shoulders, she concluded, “I guess it would make me happy.”    Adrienne shared a little smile. Not a lot to smile about recently. But again, that little fantasy took root. It would be awful nice. She had a guest coming, and with every passing conversation with Sylvia, she thought it would be cool if she saw her win that title. Retrieving a little slip of paper from her jeans pockets, she read it to herself.    “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. The Dragon Lady probably knows what this is or at least whose handwriting this is.” Tapping a finger against the note, she said, “She’s right. Just a few months ago, I was huffing and puffing my way through my debut against Starburst. And before that, my life was just passing me by because I don’t think I understood who I am. Who I could be. I’m not sure I should be so definite here, but these chances like this don’t come often. I have to seize this opportunity. It won’t come easy. But this right here is my story, my life, and yeah, this might be my only chance for it. I’m choosing to rise and become a champion this city can be proud of.”    Tucking the note back away, she then slid off the chair onto her feet. She didn’t fall on her face on camera, fortunately.    “I hope that’s okay with you. But either way, that’s who I am. A champion in the making. The future. Whatever else others want to say.”    Danny Levi’s specter remained, and so maybe it didn’t have to be one thing or other. Adrienne could fall in love with this business, and at the same time, she could take everything he had ever had. His claim to fame. His success. And more…    Adrienne Levi’s mouth twisted in a slightly mischievous smile. Knowing she could get away with this, and it would infuriate him.    “Maybe at the end of the night, you’ll just call me Magnificent.”

[jouissezduprintemps]

Something to Prove, Chapter Two: Down to Business

Rating: T Warnings: Swearing Words: 2795 Fandom: Naruto Summary: As Suna prepares for its first independently-held chunin exam since Gaara became kazekage, the sand siblings must make sure that everything goes off without a hitch.

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Temari turned over in her sleep, half-awake. Something heavenly was being cooked, and the scent gently prodded her out of her sleep. She reluctantly opened her eyes and sat up. Out of habit, she re-adjusted her shirt so that it covered her stomach before stretching. Her mouth was dry and bitter, and she eagerly drank the glass of water she had gotten herself the night before.

Not wanting to be rude, she made sure to fold and set aside the bedding she had used the night before and closed the door to the walkway, submerging the room in darkness. She ran a hand through her hair and quickly assessed her appearance, deciding that it was decent enough to be seen in the morning.

To her surprise, she found that she was the last one to have woken up. Kankuro and Choji sat side-by-side at the kitchen table, both eating as though they had never seen food before. A plump, pleasant woman bustled about the kitchen, humming to herself as she went. On the couch sat a man who appeared to be a much larger version of Choji, who got to his feet when Temari stepped through the doorway.

“Good morning,” Temari murmured, suddenly wondering how long she’d slept.

“Ah, Temari.” Gaara spoke up from beside a window, from which he turned to face her.

She was caught off guard when a massive hand came to rest on her shoulder. Her attention was pulled to the side, where Chozo offered her a large mug. “Akimichi family secret,” he informed her. “Your brother told me about your little odyssey last night. This’ll have you up and going, and kick the effects of sake. It tastes foul, but I’d bet my life on it.”

Temari took the mug from his hand and gave it a sniff, grimacing. Chozo only laughed and gave her a pat on the back. She murmured her thanks before sitting down at the table beside her brother, helping herself to the food prepared for them. She hesitated, staring down the mug and its foul contents. Like a true Suna kunoichi, she steeled her nerves and drained the contents in a single go. Her eyes watered, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It tasted like acid and rotten fruit, and it was almost enough to make her gag. With a look of distaste, she slid the empty mug across the table until it was an arm’s length away from her.

Chozo laughed, having seen the look on her face many times before. “Atta girl,” he praised, offering her a cup of coffee to wash away the taste. “Choji, have you heard from Shikamaru? I’m starting to worry about him.”

Choji shook his head, telling his father, “We couldn’t find him. I don’t know what happened. He’s usually not this bad.”

Chozo returned to his seat on the couch. “Maybe I should ask Shikaku…”

“No, don’t do that. I don’t want to get him in trouble,” Choji insisted.

Gaara slipped into the kitchen, returning his plate and glass while giving his thanks. “The hokage is expecting me,” he explained to their hosts. “Thank you again for opening your home to us.”

Chozo waved his hand. “Please, it’s our honor to host the Suna royal family, and Choji’s friends are always welcome here.”

Gaara offered a small smile in return before excusing himself.

Kankuro groaned, aware that he needed to get moving if he was going to be on time to meet with the jonin. Reluctantly, he excused himself from the table and returned to his room.

Temari made no move to get up, instead putting food in her plate.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Choji asked her out of curiosity.

The sand ninja shook her head, and her loose bangs fell into her face. As she pushed them back, she commented “I can’t do anything until my fellow proctor decides to show up.”

“Just promise me you’ll go easy on him.”

Temari arched an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

“Hey, Choji!” Shikamaru’s voice called down the hallway. A series of rapid footsteps fell as his voice got closer. “Have you seen-?”

Choji looked over at his friend and pointed across the table at Temari.

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked her escort up and down. It didn’t look like he’d slept. He was out of breath, and his face had a look of mixed relief and hesitance.

“Where the hell is my hat?!” Kankuro’s voice bellowed throughout the house, breaking the silence.

Shikamaru looked down at the black cloth in his hand. “You left it at the barbecue,” he called.

Kankuro returned to the kitchen, clad in his usual black. He had painted his face, and his brown hair stood out against his clothing. “About time you found us,” he complained as he took his hat from Shikamaru. He pulled it over his head and gave a slight wave before going on his way. “Later, Temari.”

The tension in the air hung heavily throughout the kitchen. Even Chozo could feel it. He was more amused than anything else; he’d seen that look on Shikaku’s face more times than he could count.

Choji could tell Shikamaru was thinking. You didn’t have to be a genius to know he was screwed. He looked between Temari and his best friend, who were locked in a staring match. Wow, this is uncomfortable.

After a few moments, Temari broke her gaze away, choosing to drink from her coffee cup. Shikamaru let out a sigh of relief. Even though neither of them had spoken, he knew that he was forgiven, at least for the time being. He welcomed himself to the table, taking the plate offered to him by Choji’s mother.

“Man, where were you? We looked everywhere for you last night,” Choji remarked.

“I got held up in a meeting with the hokage,” Shikamaru explained. “By the time I got to the gate, Izumo and Kotetsu were gone. So I sat and waited.” He left out the part where he’d fallen asleep, trying to save a little face. “I was there all night. Izumo and Koetsu woke… got there this morning and told me they’d already arrived. So I came to ask you.”

Temari set her mug down on the table, doing her best not to let her annoyance show in front of their hosts. “Now that you’ve come out of hiding, we can get to work.” She rose from her chair and returned her dishes to the sink before turning on her heel and walking down the hallway. “Do me a favor and stay put long enough for me to get dressed.”

Shikamaru blinked once and groaned, resting his head in the palm of his hand. “She’s gonna kill me…”

Chozo couldn’t keep himself from laughing.

Shikamaru trudged along, his hands in his pockets. Temari was a few steps ahead of him, keeping an even pace. He’d been looking at her back ever since they left the Akimichi’s. She’d pulled her hair back into those four points, like usual. Her black dress and red sash were familiar, as was the fan secured to her back. By all appearances, it was just another day.

He let out a sigh and looked up, studying the single cloud that hung in the sky. “If you’re going to say something, just say it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, Temari, don’t do this.” He’d just wanted to get the scolding over with, not start a fight.

“I don’t have anything to say about it,” Temari informed him flatly. “We have bigger things to worry about.”

“I know you’re pissed at me.”

Temari stopped in her tracks, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Are you looking for an argument?”

Shikamaru was caught off guard. “No.”

“Then just leave it alone.”

God, she’s so frustrating. She gets pissed at me over nothing, and the one time I actually fuck up, she doesn’t want to talk about it. What’d I do to get stuck with her?

Shikamaru was the one to take up the pace, passing by Temari. A few quick steps had her strolling by his side. To his surprise, she didn’t seem angry. Maybe it was a trick.

He felt a slight tug on his left sleeve. Temari had captured the fabric by his wrist with her thumb and forefinger, prompting him to change direction with her. He followed her lead and took a seat on a wooden bench underneath the awning of a shop, where she bought herself a cup of tea. It was then that he noticed the slightly dark circles under her eyes. Absentmindedly, he wondered if she was just as tired as he was.

Temari sat her tea down on the bench beside her and pulled out a notebook, which was filled with hasty writing. “We’ve only got three days to make sure everything’s ready. You’ve finished the exam questions, right?”

Shikamaru studied her face as she flipped through the pages. “You’re not mad at me.”

“What?” Temari looked over at him. “I told you that.”

“Why?”

Was he sick or something? “Do you want me to be mad at you?”

“No,” he corrected hastily. “I just thought you would be.”

“Look, I’m willing to admit that I wasn’t thinking straight, either. We were late, and we didn’t wait more than a minute before leaving to get food. It’s not like we tried to hunt you down first thing. We’d all had some sake with dinner and didn’t think about going back to the gate to look for you.” Temari paused to take a sip of her tea. “I won’t say I wasn’t pissed, but I got it out of my system. You’re just lucky Choji was there; you almost had to pay for us to stay at an onsen.”

Ah, there it is. “I guess I owe him one.”

“I’d say so.” Behind her snide remark was a hint of a smile, which put Shikamaru’s mind at ease. “You’ll be making it up to me for the rest of our visit.”

Shikamaru took the notebook out of her hands and glanced over the page. “No one’s going to be able to pass the written exam on their own,” he assured her, changing the subject. “It’s a lot harder than last year’s.”

“Tell me that you came up with a tenth question that won’t have the genin trying to destroy the building,” Temari prompted, remembering the last, joint-effort chunin exam they had run.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it under control.”

“I’d hope so. I don’t want you embarrassing yourself.”

Shikamaru snorted. “Don’t you mean Suna?”

“We can handle a little embarrassment. You, well, I don’t know how much credibility you have left.”

Shikamaru drew air in through his teeth. “Ouch.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, which he thumped against his palm. “I guess you’ll be using the demon desert again?”

Temari nodded. “Kankuro is making sure that the jonin know the risk this time around. We don’t want to be responsible for any considerable loss of life.”

“That’s not funny, Temari.”

“No, it’s not.”

A heavy silence passed between them, punctuated when Shikamaru exhaled, polluting the air with hazy, grey smoke. He flicked the ashes from the end of his cigarette to the ground. “We haven’t gotten off to the best start this time around, have we?”

“Nope.”

“Three days?”

“Mmhm.” Temari nodded.

Shikamaru frowned, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. He brought his cigarette back up to his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Temari blurted out, blindsided.

“This one’s on me. I know it.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m willing to admit it. I can’t spend three days in a stalemate.”

“Fair enough,” Temari relented. It wasn’t fun to walk on eggshells around one another. Neither of them was suited to it. “You know, it isn’t going to take us three days to iron this out.”

“What’re you suggesting?”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

Shikamaru wasn’t about to protest. He was confident enough that he didn’t think they needed to go over the exam at all. All the same, if Gaara and Kankuro were working, he knew they’d get an earful from both kage if they were caught slacking off. “Shogi?”

“Why would I want to play a game you know you’re going to win?”

He shrugged. “Go?”

Temari shook her head as she closed her notebook. “Fine.”

Shikamaru stood up and dropped his cigarette, extinguishing it with his shoe. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get everything sorted tonight.”

“You just want to get it done so you don’t have to work the next two days.”

“Guilty.”

Temari turned her piece over between her fingers, studying the board. She settled on her move and set down her white marker, flipping over Shikamaru’s black pieces that she’d taken. She appreciated the silence. The two shinobi sat on the outside walkway, out of the sun. The breeze was light, and she assumed they were the only ones at the Nara residence.

She felt comfortable. Her fan leaned against a wooden pillar, out of the way. Shikamaru had taken off his vest, and he hunched over the board, his cheek in his palm. This was their fifth game. Even though they’d agreed not to keep score, both mentally weighed their wins and losses.

Shikamaru’s piece clinked against the board, and he flipped several of her white pieces over to black. Temari made a face, puffing out her right cheek in annoyance. At this point, there wasn’t any reason to continue this round. “Four-two,” she declared, sweeping half the pieces off the board and into her open palm.

“What happened to not keeping score?”

“As if you weren’t.”

He’d been caught, but he wasn’t ashamed of it. Meditatively, he set the board up for another game. He was enjoying himself, more than he had in a while. The fact that they hadn’t fought was a miracle, but he wasn’t going to complain. Between the two of them, they had finished everything Gaara expected of them. Pridefully, he thought, That’s what happens when you get the best mind of Suna and Konoha on a team.

“So,” Temari interrupted his thoughts. “Did you arrange for us to stay somewhere, or will we be staying with the Akimichi clan?” Her words were barbed, but only playfully.

“I’ve taken care of it.” Shikamaru assured her, sidestepping her snide remark.

It was Temari’s turn to start the game, but she set her pieces to the side instead. “I’m not leaving until I bathe in the hot springs.”

Her demand was her way of making a request, and Shikamaru had known her long enough to understand what she meant. “I’ll take you tomorrow.”

“We should invite Ino and Choji.”

Shikamaru sat up straight, surprised. Temari was picky when it came to company. For her to suggest inviting his teammates was new, and very unexpected. Temari caught on to his confusion, mildly amused.

“I enjoyed their company last night,” she explained.

“Huh. Alright.” It would be nice to have Choji come along, Shikamaru decided. It wasn’t as though they’d take advantage of the mixed bathing, and he wouldn’t enjoy himself as much if he were alone.

“We have to invite Gaara and Kankuro,” Temari mused. “I’ll never hear the end of it if we don’t.”

Shikamaru groaned, and Temari knew why. If Gaara came along, it was likely that Naruto and Lee would find excuses to tag along with them. It mattered little to Temari, but that was because she wouldn’t have to deal with them. Shikamaru, on the other hand, would get a strong dose of both hyperactive ninja.

“They might not come,” she pointed out, in a rare attempt to placate him. “I doubt they’re finished with what they need to do here.”

“I hope,” Shikamaru said bluntly, only because he knew she wouldn’t take offense. “Oh, by the way.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a key. “This is yours. We had to put you three up in different apartments this time; there wasn’t anything with three rooms.”

“You know, I’m okay with that.” Temari took the key from him, tucking it away for safekeeping. “Kankuro snores.” That also meant that she wouldn’t have to worry about her brothers. They could do what they wanted without having to move as a group, just like they could in Suna.

Shikamaru grinned when he saw her laugh to herself. He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took and allowed him to help her to her feet. He pulled on his vest as she secured her fan to her back. “Shall we?”

[onlongsleeveweddingdresses]

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