#he flat out dismisses the idea that there is any moral issue to be had when Emmrich and Davrin ask him about it

[wardensantoineandevka]

I see there's posts floating around directly and blatantly arguing against mine (same wording) by completely misunderstanding what I said. I'm fucking BACK, babey. Should've bought some hay-scented fragrance while I was at Sephora today, because I am once again your strawman!

[whxre-bxby]

I LOVE UR BLOG ASDFGHJKL 💛

THANK YOU!

"Do It Our Way" - Recom's Redemption

Masterlist

Side Rant: 1. GUESS WHO FINISHED THEIR EXAMS FOREVER AND CAN FINALLY FOCUS ON WHAT THEY LIKE DOING 2. I've had the first part of the fic as an idea since January but I never got to write it

1K special request from @henhouse-horrors

Summary: Y/N finds out the RDA has been lying to them. Everyone is silently having an identity crisis and after torching the coastal Na'vi village, something snaps and they leave the RDA behind.

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of death, gore, violence, fire, mental health issues

Word Count: 6016

We were back in the forest for the first time in years again, just this time we were the ones that changed. According to the RDA, we wouldn‘t be detected as a threat by Eywa because we were recombinants now. Human soldiers living in the bodies of blue Avatars. 

Quaritch had just split us into pairs, making us cover more ground. I was paired with Lyle and we were returning now after 2 hours of searching with both of us in complete and utter shock.

The other recoms had all returned and we were the last to rejoin the group. I led the way as we emerged from the large leaves and trees of the forest. Lyle followed, keeping his gaze fixated on me. Worry tainted his face and his ears were pinned back because he had noticed I wasn't okay after what both of us had just been through. He himself was confused and was trying to digest what we had just learned. Lyle told me it was best not to tell the Colonel but he knew I wouldn't be able to hide something so big. Something that questioned our very existence and our morals. 

We're here to find Jake Sully. That's the mission. Not… do what they showed us we did. 

Quaritch heard our footsteps and turned around, quickly scanning over Lyle and me. 

"Alright, we're complete. Any success?" He asks, clapping his hands together before resting them on his waist and looking at us. The rest of the team followed his eyes. 

Lyle returned his gaze from our superior to me, nudging my arm gently. I flinched at the sudden contact and raised my head, frantically looking around. 

The Colonel picked up on my behaviour and grew skeptical. 

I hadn't even noticed we arrived at the rest of our squad. Quaritch's question also flew right by me. It was a faint and distant buzzing in my ears because my mind was clouded with questions and possible theories of answers. 

"Y/N?" Quaritch spoke and my gaze snapped to him, wide eyes staring into his own. 

"Any success?" 

"No Colonel, we-" Lyle started to say for me but I couldn't let him cover this up. 

"What are we doing?" I asked, clenching my jaw together. My eyes were stinging and have become red and glossy out of frustration. My tail was restless and my ears were pained due to being strained flat against my head for the past half hour. I was tenser than ever before and Quaritch wasn't going to dismiss anyone until he found out why. 

He gave my question a few seconds, wondering what the purpose of asking that was when it was clearly stated multiple times. The Colonel opened his mouth but I had to let out more. 

"Also, why are we doing this?" I add and now I have everyone's attention.

“Y/N.” Quaritch repeated, but this time his words sounded more like a warning. He wanted me to stop talking even though he wanted to find out what was happening. 

I take a step back, trying to think of a way to start it out easily for everyone to follow my trail of thought. 

“Sir?” I ask, wiping my hand over my face before standing still. He’s watching me, his gaze beckoning me to continue. 

“How many times have we been here?” I add and my words come out demanding and desperate for an answer. My voice is beginning to tremble because I’m starting to crumble beneath frustration, anger, and sadness. 

His ears flicker forward at my question and he isn’t sure how to answer. Everyone knew this was our first time back in the forest but perhaps I meant it in a different context. It wasn’t specific enough for him.

“Y/N, what are you talkin’ about?” Quaritch asked, not seeming pleased with my questioning. 

I take a deep breath and Lyle is grimacing slightly behind me, knowing I’m about to unleash it all. 

“We saw two Na’vi kids just now,” I start and Quaritch’s attention is fully focused on me. He glanced around Lyle and me as did the rest of the team, silently questioning why they weren’t with us and captured. 

“And we were going to follow the procedure-”

“But you didn’t?” Quaritch interrupted me, seeming to get impatient. 

“No, sir.” I reply, averting my gaze from his glaring eyes. I couldn’t hold eye contact with him. The Colonel looks to Lyle for answers but I continue.

“Sir, they weren’t scared.” I say, taking a step forward so that he would direct his attention back to me. Quaritch raised an eyebrow, ready to drop us if that was all we had to say. 

“We pointed our fucking- guns at them. And they didn’t react. The young one laughed!” I continue, raising my voice much to Quaritch’s dislike. My body was trembling and he could tell something was really bothering me. 

Quaritch knew you for many years. You were one of his best marines and had never acted like this before. So he let you talk, wanting to know what’s gotten into you. 

Lyle and I were pushing through leaves while staying focused and reacting to all and any noise and movement we picked up on. When we heard distant giggles and voices, we immediately followed them. 

They led us to a small pond and in it were two children. They were Na’vi and definitely young. We both approached them warily, making sure there weren’t more around. Lyle had ordered them to get down and not move. Both of them flinched at the sudden loud noise and their wide eyes spotted the two of us. To my surprise, they turned around and kept playing. We raised our weapons, pointing our guns at goddamn children but they seemed completely unfazed. We knew that all Na’vi now knew that guns were dangerous. Many of them would steal from the supply trains and take them. But neither our loud shouting nor threatening display of flashing weapons intimidated them. 

The smaller one turned around and directly looked at me with an amused smile, while I pointed my gun at its head as I was told to do. 

“Back again?” he giggled, looking at me like I wasn't capable of hurting him. The words took me by surprise. Did he think I was someone he knew? His mother perhaps? 

Nonsense, I’m wearing a military uniform. But another astonishing thing was that he spoke English. 

I stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“We thought fifth time would be last.” his sister cackled behind him, standing up to face me now too. Lyle didn’t move, standing next to me while letting the conversation unfold. 

“What do you-” 

She didn’t listen and told her brother something in Na’vi which we didn’t understand. He nodded, running over to a tree where they had a bag. Lyle took a few steps in his direction so that we wouldn’t lose them but the boy came running back. In his four-fingered hand were small pieces of paper. Polaroids actually. 

I watched him as he picked one out and held it up to me. I lowered my gun to face the ground now and quickly exchanged glances with Lyle before leaning down and looking at what he showed me. 

At first, I couldn’t make out what was happening in the picture but then certain aspects started to look familiar. It looked like something was sitting on debris or a pile of rubble. But most of it was coloured red. As I stared longer, I noticed there was a body between the scraps of metal. Not a human body, but Na’vi. It was an Avatar or what could be a recombinant because of the uniform. 

The Avatar had an arrow in its chest and blood was flowing from its face. This was some of the most brutal gore I had seen and I was being shown it by a child with a smile on its face. 

I was about to turn away in disgust when something caught my eye. The right arm of the Avatar was clearly visible and it had something on it. Lyle was looking at the picture now too and it started to sink in. 

That was my tattoo. 

My heart stopped beating as I stared at the arm. I noticed how it was placed in the exact same spot it is on my arm now. Suddenly, I feel frightened and my eyes flicker all over the body. Another one of my tattoos is on the Avatar’s ankle. Quickly, I look at the barely whole face. Half of it was gone. But the half that was left… resembled my exact features. 

The dead body in the picture was me. I straighten my posture and snatch the polaroid from the child’s hand, looking at it in disbelief. Lyle seems to realise what’s going on because he’s examining the arm with my tattoo. 

“What is this?” I ask, desperately needing an answer that will prove my thoughts wrong. 

The child looks up at me. 

“You.” 

My ears pin back and my eyes unfocus as I stare into nothingness. The other child takes the remaining polaroids from her brother but I react quickly and rip them from her grasp. 

I hand some over to Lyle and we flick through them. My heart is racing as I see more pictures of others dead. Prager’s body looks drowned here. Fike is torn in half. Quaritch has multiple arrows in his back. Lyle’s pale body is missing a limb and bled out. 

And another one of me, hanging lifeless from a railing with my throat slit clean open. Blood covers my face here, but my tattoos are still there and my head is only halfway attached. It seems as though I lost my tail too. 

I clutch my mouth, turning away from the children and bending over. My hands are wrapped around my middle and I lean down, feeling sick to my stomach. Lyle looks horrified as he sees his own batch of death. It didn’t make much sense to either of us yet because we were too disturbed and mortified to put the pieces together. 

The children have been carrying these around as if they didn’t depict the most gruesome images one has ever seen. The older one came to Lyle and me and plucked the polaroids from our fingers. She wasn’t smiling anymore. 

“Wait- give ‘em back.” Lyle said, wanting to take them as proof to the Colonel.

The girl hissed at him and he stopped. “No. We need them for next time.” she snarled. 

Next time?

“Leave us alone, or you become this again.” she said, standing her ground and motioning to the pictures of death. 

I felt so sick I couldn’t be here anymore. My weapon was loosely hanging in my hand and I turned to walk back. Lyle followed and we left the children behind. Our minds were clouded with thoughts, we were no longer able to pay attention to our surroundings. 

“What?” Quaritch asked.

“They had pictures of us! All of us! And we were dead in every single fucking one!” I shout even with a trembling voice and lip. My eyes were full of tears threatening to spill any second. 

“It’s true, sir.” Lyle backed me up, still feeling extremely uncomfortable about what we had seen. 

“We’ve been here before! This isn’t the first time we’re out here as recombinants.” I say, trying to prohibit myself from shouting again. I was pacing up and down the lane in front of Quaritch and the recoms, still refusing to believe it’s real and hoping he has some reasonable explanation for this.

“We’ve done this mission five times already! This is our sixth attempt because we’ve failed all the others.”

Everyone feels uneasy now and a few soldiers exchange questioning glances or worried looks. 

“The RDA keeps sending us out here over and over again. Remember all the briefings they gave us where all the workers seemed uninterested?” I ask and Quaritch looks back to me. 

“You would think that if this really is the first time the RDA has made a recombinant team, they would have put a little more effort into things. People would stare if they saw Avatars for the first time. Extra precautions would be taken. But no, they seemed to have given up!”

Quaritch looks angry now and I don’t quite know whether it’s general frustration or anger directed towards the RDA or me. 

“It’s like they knew they were sending us to death and they just hope to have luck on their side this time.” 

“Alright, cut it out.” Quaritch says but I’m too worked up in explaining my theory. 

“The forest knows us. The people know us. Which probably means Jake knows we’re after him and-”

“Y/N!” Quaritch shouts, making me flinch and everyone looks away for a split second. I freeze, looking at him. 

He looks like he’s fuming with anger and it scares me. The Colonel takes a few steps towards me so that he’s now fully standing in front of me. All I can do is watch him and this time I’m too intimidated to look away. 

“Remind me of our mission.” he ordered. 

“Hunt down and kill Jake Sully, sir.” I reply almost instinctively.

“Why are we doin’ that?” Quaritch added. 

“Because he betrayed humankind and killed us, sir.” I say. We’ve heard it so often I could recite the reasons off by heart in my sleep at this point. 

Quaritch gives me the faintest nod but keeps harshly staring me down. 

“That is why we are here. Everythin’ else the RDA does or plans to do is none of our business.” he said, slowly turning from me and now addressing everyone. 

It was silent for a few moments until Quaritch turned back around to me. He was gritting his teeth. 

“Anythin’ else?” he asked me, daring me to continue talking. Normally, I would have never answered. The consequences could be far too harsh but this time something inside me snapped. 

“We’re doing exactly what got us killed last time.” I say and Quaritch is definitely surprised but not pleased with my big mouth today. My voice got quieter now and my words sunk into everyone. 

Every time we oppose Eywa we get beaten down. Whether we’re blue or not doesn’t seem to matter. This is a suicide mission with no way out.

Quaritch officially had enough. As the leading rank of this squad, he had to defend the RDA, no matter whether he himself was questioning their actions. 

He walked over to me and his strong hand tightly gripped my jaw, holding me in place. His face was closer to mine so that he could make sure I get the message and feel small. 

His fingers dug into my skin and it hurt but I knew trying to move away would make everything worse. 

“We’re here to complete a mission Y/N. One goddamn mission.” he snarled, spitting his words like venom. “We’re not here to live.”

And with that he pushed my head away, making me stumble back slightly. The Colonel glared at me one final time before turning around. 

“Headin’ back, wrap it up.” he said, leading the way back to where we would meet the helicopter. A few recom soldiers started to follow him while I just stood in place and processed everything.

Lyle placed a hand on my shoulder and I sighed, clutching my face in my hands to calm my nerves before we followed the others. A few of them looked at us questioningly. No doubt were we all slightly suspicious of the RDA. This affected us directly because they had permanent access to our soul drive and could use it on any Avatar. But what could we do?

After all, we were the property of the RDA. They made us for this mission. Completing this successfully was our life purpose. It didn’t matter if we were lied to or not. But lying always raises questions and mistrust. 

For the next few days, I was forced to ignore my thoughts. I knew if I asked any more questions there was a chance they would wipe my memory and ‘restart’ me so that I would forget everything I found out today. 

I struggled to understand myself as well. I wasn’t sure whether I was fine and my stupid new body had emotional side effects or whether I was starting to no longer side with the RDA.

I managed to withhold my emotions for the next week. Quaritch was paying close attention to my behaviour so I talked less. 

I was doing well at keeping my thoughts to myself until we were sent out once again. This time we were climbing up the Iknimaya or the so-called ‘Path to Heaven’ which was in the Hallelujah Mountains. That’s where the Ikran were. 

We reached the top and watched the Ikran’s reactions to our presence. 

“TopGun, you’re up!” Quaritch called and my ears twitched at the name. I used to be in the airforce until I transferred. That’s where the nickname came from. 

He seemed to really be testing me and my limits in the past few days, making me work out more, do more chores around the base, and now tame an Ikran first.

Things went much faster than expected. I tackled the banshee to the ground by its neck. I placed it in a headlock with my legs while my arms searched for its cord and finally, I managed to connect us and form tsaheylu. The feeling of the bond shot through me and suddenly my senses heightened and I felt my Ikran beneath me. My legs unwrapped from its head and it slowly stood upright with me on its back. A few recoms cheered while others watched warily and without further hesitation, it took off. Its wings opened as it jumped from the cliff and we started to tumble down. 

It took a while to seize control but I figured it out and we flew for a few good minutes. 

That’s when my problem grew worse. I was connected to the Ikran. I felt what it felt. The pure joy of life it had and the love for Pandora. I felt its connection to Eywa and its happiness of finding a rider. Looking around, the beautiful sight of the magical scenery made me almost break down. 

We flew back and I slowly landed where we took off. I slowly got off it, tracing my hand over the patterns of its skin as I made my way to its head. It must have felt my emotions and gently pressed its head against mine before pulling me against its neck. I was literally hugging a dragon and tears started to flow from my eyes. Creatures like these the RDA wanted dead. I must have shot a dozen Ikrans as a human too. 

I undid the bond, leaving my Ikran and walking back with my head down. Z-Dog was at my side, noticing my state. She wasn’t the type of person to comfort but she helped shield me from the Colonel's stern looks. He was suspicious of me and I couldn’t show him how attached I suddenly felt to the world. I hoped they would feel it too but no one did. 

The days continued to pass but every morning felt heavier. The nights felt lonelier. I started to long for the forest. At night when I was locked in my room, I would dream and imagine walking through the forest, flying over the cliffs and mountains and swimming in the waters. 

It was as if the planet was calling for me. Like I belonged to it. Even though I was an Avatar, it seemed to be able to mentally reach me and lure me to it. Our minds were normal but our bodies seemed to be cursed with a love for this world. But now, I started thinking that my mind was in the wrong place and my body was longing for the right way of life. Being alive now meant more than it ever did to me when I was a human. 

Things rapidly escalated the next day.

We were on the SeaDragon. One of the RDA’s largest ships which is used to enable the hunting of Tulkuns. Now we were leaving what used to be a coastal Na’vi village after setting it into flames and cuffing all the people. Quaritch almost had the Tsahik killed and that was when I truly realised that I couldn’t do it. 

It was never a problem for me before but now it felt so incredibly wrong I had to say something. 

Instead of heading back to the SeaDragon, Quaritch led us past the beach and to the forest which is where our Ikran waited. We were following him but oddly no one spoke a word this time. Usually, there was some conversation occurring but everyone was silent. I glanced around me and my teammates had their heads down while they mindlessly followed their superior. The Colonel himself refused to turn around and face us. 

The scene of fire and violence I had just seen a few minutes ago was replaying in my head. The cries of the people seeing their homes get destroyed were echoing in my head and my eyes were unfocused again. I felt distanced from reality and things seemed blurry. 

My footsteps slowed down and a few recoms passed me. Eventually, I stopped fully and my firearm fell from my hands and onto the ground. I had made up my mind because I could no longer bear having this guilt weigh me down and have this blood on my hands. 

Lopez and Mansk were walking behind me and they too now stopped, looking at me and my weapon. 

“Y/N?” Z-Dog called from further at the front. She halted her steps and turned around to face me. 

My ears were pinned back because I knew I was about to get the worst punishment from the Colonel. The decisions I have made due to the storm of involuntary emotions I feel have caused me to completely lose the common sense I was taught to have as a human soldier. Everything I had ever worked for and wanted to achieve was now going out the window because this god-forsaken body made me refuse to continue. 

The Colonel heard that and turned around as did the others. His eyes scanned me over and he instantly knew what this was about. 

“You better keep walkin’ right now or I’m gonna-” Quaritch started to say but I interrupted him. 

“I’m not doing this anymore.” I mumble. My body trembles with anger even though I’m filled with fear. 

He seemed to hear my faint voice and glared me down for a few more seconds before handing some equipment to Lyle and walking to me. 

“What did you say?” he asked me in a daring manner, wanting me to repeat my answer so that he could rightfully be angry. 

“I’m not doing this anymore. I’m done.” I snarl at him, spitting the words out one by one to make my message and intentions clear. 

He doesn’t react for a few moments so I start removing all other weapons attached to me. Starting with my vest, I opened the straps and discarded it on the ground. 

“What exactly are you doin’?” he asks, watching my movements. 

My infuriated eyes meet his again. 

“I don’t know. But I can’t ever do- that again.” I reply, pointing behind me to the distant fire and smoke in the sky. My voice is breaking again. 

The Colonel is examining me to see whether I’m being serious. 

“The RDA can go fuck itself, this shit is cruel and so fucking inhumane-” I say, gasping for air after pushing the words out like I was out of breath.

“You turnin’ your back on the RDA?” he asks, definitely looking pissed now. 

I put my hands on my hips and bite my tongue while I think of my answer. My head starts to nod. 

“Yeah, I am.”

“What’s the plan, huh? You gonna go find Jake and live like ‘em?” He asks me and I can hear disgust in his voice. There was no turning back now they all probably looked down at me now. It hurt me a little because they were the closest thing to a family I had for the many years I’ve been on Pandora. 

I scoff. “Fuck Jake. I don’t know, but I’d rather be doing anything than this.” 

Quaritch stays quiet for a while, clearly thinking about what he should do. 

I inhale shakily and look around. I notice everyone looks worried to a certain extent. I’m not sure why but I know that they know the consequences of this are bad. I wouldn’t wish this upon any of them because we seemed to get very close as recoms. Not that it mattered now. I’d probably get imprisoned at the RDA now or they really would wipe my memory. 

Finally, the Colonel speaks up again. 

“Betrayin’ your own team gives me the right te’ execute you on the spot.” he says while his fierce eyes pierce through me. 

My heartbeat stops for a few seconds as I think about what he just said. I wasn’t expecting to be killed straight away but it would happen sooner or later. 

“Is that what you’re doin’ here?” he asks and I gulp. I gather the mess my thoughts have become and pull myself together. 

“Yeah.” I mumble, looking down at my feet. No matter how drawn I was to this world, I still felt shame for this. 

Your words shifted some gears in the Colonel’s head. For a second he could see the internal war you were having. Doing this felt wrong to you but the other way around it was worse. But the man was a tough marine and his persistence was stronger. 

In the next second his hand reaches for the holster attached to his belt. 

The soldiers who have made it this far are watching and many of their hearts sink when Quaritch pulls out his gun and steadily aims it right at your head. You’ve all become almost friends in the past weeks and everyone had their internal identity crisis to deal with. It just seemed yours was worse. It didn’t make you weaker but you were one of the few people who didn’t have a tunnel vision to the successful completion of your mission. You saw the aftermath. The consequences that were forced upon innocent lives. And it made you realise that you had been siding with the enemy your entire life. 

I look up at him and my eyes meet the end of his gun. I stop moving and look into his eyes. 

“I may be havin’ my own deal of problems with this body,” Quaritch said with a tense jaw while his hand remained in place. My ears perk forward. Was he feeling it too? 

“But I still remember what team I’m playin’ for.” 

The muscles of his arm strained and flexed as he tightly gripped the gun. I was too stunned to speak. Knowing it’s all going to be gone in a matter of seconds makes one forget how to function normally. My eyes involuntarily teared up again because I started to feel the same longing and joy for life my Ikran felt. I wanted to stay here and not harm the world. But if that isn’t possible it’s best I don’t exist at all. 

“This isn’t personal. It’s just the procedure.” he says, forcedly pushing his words out as if he were running out of air. 

I nod. 

“I know.” 

Quaritch had his lips tightly pressed into a firm line as he stared into my eyes. They flickered between my watery ones and he finally exhaled after holding his breath for a good minute. 

“Fuck-” he faintly uttered under his breath and looked away for a second. His gun was slightly lowered but the next second he readjusted his stance and held it back in place. His fingers moved up and he cocked it. All he had to do was pull the trigger and it would be over. 

“Look down.” he ordered. His words flew by me at first but then I processed them and slowly lowered my gaze to the ground. 

Quaritch couldn’t look you in the eyes while he would take your life. He knew you too well it would take a toll on him. Making you look away made it easier for him to forget it’s you he’s about to shoot. 

Zdinarsk was watching me with a horrified look. I’ve known her for almost ten years. She didn’t want this to happen but she wasn’t in the place to prohibit it. 

Lyle’s ears were flattened back and he turned away, holding his head. He couldn’t watch. No one could. Everyone had miserably looked away.

Quaritch’s hand was shaking with how much he tensed it. His eyes were fixated on me as his fingers were slowly itching to press down on the trigger. He was close to placing it on it when he saw a tear drop from my face. 

Tears were new. When we were upset we were silent. Never had we cried. He only saw me like this before with my Ikran. 

“What are the tears for, Y/N?” he asks and suddenly his voice doesn’t seem as angry. His words sound soft and almost sympathetic. 

I look up at him and he freezes. 

Seeing you so broken apart in front of him made Quaritch lose focus on his weapon. To anyone’s surprise, he felt pity because he knew that this wasn’t your fault. He could see how inside it was still you but the new parts of you had seemed to overpower your old self. 

“I just want to live. Here.” I reply with a tremble and a sniffle. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.” 

Quaritch blankly stared at me. I don’t know what was taking him so long because I knew he was a man of his words. I decided to just wait it out and continue staring down at the grass which seemed even pretty now. It made me want to reach down and touch it but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to do something so simple again. 

You thought you’d be dead any second now but Quaritch didn’t have the heart to kill you. You were one of his soldiers and he’d had you under his command for multiple years. That wasn’t something he could just look past. And there was no doubt about the fact that he no longer felt such hatred for this world. 

I heard a click of metal and suddenly a deafening gunshot pulsates through my sensitive ears. I flinch at the sound but soon noticed I wasn’t hit. 

Lyle cursed under his breath, wiping his hand over his face to stay in control of himself. He was turned around so he assumed the shot was for you. The marine didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t want to see you on the ground nor did he want to see the Colonel towering over your body. The others held their breath as they processed the likeliness of your death. No one wanted to look. 

I glanced up at the Colonel and he looked uncomfortable. There was a lot of internal conflict behind those eyes. It was honestly unfair what the RDA put us through. Putting dead soldiers into the body of the enemy and making us find that enemy to kill them even though we felt attached to the world. It was too much. 

Quaritch started angrily taking the gun apart and dropping the pieces of it onto the ground while he gritted his teeth and spoke. 

“Can’t believe I was- gonna kill my own fuckin’-” he started to swear. The Colonel was clearly distressed as everyone else was. He was angry and it was equally divided to the RDA for giving us this mission and angry at himself for not being able to pull through with his task. 

We were all permanently two-faced. Meaning we would always hate ourselves for being blue and having a weakness for this planet but we would equally hate the RDA for destroying it and sending us out to do this. 

“What are you doing?” I ask. 

Your voice makes the others freeze and within seconds they turn around and are more than relieved to see you’re not dead or even injured. 

“Your goddamn plan.” he said, turning to the others. Quaritch felt sick to his stomach admitting this weakness to the others but he made a new choice. He made it clear that he and I could no longer continue and asked whether anyone else felt the same. It took a lot of convincing to get the others to open up. Some quickly agreed while others were hesitant. 

Lyle’s world was slowly falling apart. He didn’t know who to follow. His whole life, he’d been trained to stick by the RDA. The Colonel had been there throughout his entire experience. So have I and most of the team. He had also been praised and promoted for not letting people like Grace and Jake faze him when they betrayed the humans. Now, we weren’t human anymore. And the people Lyle trusted were doing something he swore to himself he’d never do. 

Eventually, Quaritch started to walk another way and everyone followed again. He gave the others an option to return home but no one took it. 

No one wanted to return to the industrialised dead land at Bridgehead City. 

We went to our Ikran and made a plan. Firstly, we needed a few things like living supplies. We also needed to make sure the RDA wouldn’t find us. I suspected they had trackers in our bodies somewhere and I only knew about one person who could help us. 

The rest of the day was a pain for everyone. We weren’t a happy and free group at all, we were tormented with the guilt of leaving everything we’ve ever known behind. 

But we couldn’t ever go back to Earth. We were dead and gone. That option was completely eliminated. So either way, Pandora would be our home. It just depended on how we treated it. 

We roughly knew where Jake used to stay. That’s where the scientists were. I was friends with Norm at one point so we went to find him. It was difficult. I managed to walk into the Clan’s territory in my uniform because the Na’vi thought I was just a science Avatar. Once I stepped foot inside the labs, guns were drawn. I found Norm and it took me a good half an hour to explain everything and persuade him. I told him if he’d help us this one time we would never bother them again. 

He let it happen and helped us find our trackers chips. They put one in our braids and one beneath the skin of our neck. Norm had to take them out with small tools but it worked. 

We left with a few bags of their supplies and returned to the old and run-down shed where Quaritch originally died. No one had a specific plan to foresee our future but we made it clear we didn’t want to fully embrace Navi culture. We’d keep our clothes and our language but this time we’d just attempt to peacefully live with nature. 

Perhaps one day we could form some kind of peace treaty with Jake and his clan. But that was too much of a big step to even discuss now. Turning our backs on the RDA was enough on our plate now. 

We would live our own way and form our own path here. There weren’t any rules to life in the forest. So we would do it our way.

Tag List: @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ikranwings @jatwow @numarusworld

[itsclydebitches]

A great example of “RWBY+ can do no wrong” is the whole “Let Penny make her own choices” thing. They keep doing it over and over, yet while watching I never got the idea RWBY+ doing it was bad. They’re never called out, they never regret it, or anything. Ruby takes the scroll from Penny’s hand and answers Ironwood for her, and makes her human without her consent. I get the not killing Penny thing, BUT THAT’S THE ONLY THING THEY DO FOR HER. WTF?!

Yes let's take a hot second to unpack all this.

Now, I'm going to be focusing on late Volume 7 and Volume 8, but in reality this problem started way back during Penny's introduction. Namely, presenting her as a literal tool of the military who has to break the rules set down (go out, have friends, etc.) in order to be her own person. There's a small problem here in the form of making Pietro the shadowy scientist and then changing him into the doting father with no acknowledgement that he a) built Penny with the purpose of being Atlas' tool and b) went along with dictating her actions through that whole run. However, given that Pietro is a minor character we may never even see again, we have a much larger problem in the form of Ruby being entirely disinterested in Penny's plight. Ruby cares about making sure Penny feels real, not that Penny has all the freedoms a real person innately deserves. Admittedly, this is less of an issue back in Volumes 1-3 because RWBY was a less serious show then, Penny was a new friend, and Ruby was the teenager student. But come Volume 7 when our show is questioning the characters' morals, Ruby is an adult now, Ruby has her huntsmen license, and she supposedly has this incredibly strong bond with Penny, it's now a problem that she hears things like "Ironwood doesn't want me to have friends" and just... doesn't seem to care. Or do anything. Or suggest that Penny do something. It's a non-topic. Ruby only becomes interested in Penny's autonomy when that autonomy threatens Ruby's own goals. When Ruby is working for Ironwood, it's totally fine if Penny works for Ironwood too, no matter how she might be being treated. (Though, frankly, I think the show did a terrible job of establishing Ironwood's supposed mistreatment. The no friends rule makes zero sense when Penny is being sent to celebratory parties organized by Ironwood. So that's a whole other issue.) But when Ruby is against Ironwood... well, then Penny needs to be on their side. Of course she'd be on their side. It's presented as inevitable, despite the fact that it very much should not be. But the point is that Ruby cares about keeping Penny away from Ironwood and giving her an illusion of choice only once she is breaking away. Otherwise, Penny's autonomy is not her concern.

So that's where we're starting out which is pretty bad. Already Ruby's status as the contrast to Ironwood is falling flat, but the show admittedly helps smooth things over by giving us such an extreme. Meaning, we learn fairly early on that Ironwood want to hack Penny and take that autonomy away, full stop. Ruby doesn't. Ergo, Ruby is the lesser of two evils here. I can see why so many fans dismiss the scroll scene given its seemingly, comparative insignificance, but it definitely rubbed me the wrong way. Part of that is because Penny never gets to express her own opinions to Ruby. She gets to do it with Winter and, notably, Penny comes to a sort of, 'We can manage both' stance. The dilemma of going after Cinder or saving Winter and fighting Salem or saving the people of Atlas/the Relics are meant to mirror one another and Penny manages to achieve both. She saves Winter and keeps the power out of Cinder's hands too. Then, she's given the one key that controls the latter dilemma: the Maiden powers. So what will Penny decide? How does she view the situation to leave or stay? How will her decision regarding Cinder and Winter impact her decision about Atlas and Mantle?

It doesn't. We have no idea what Penny thinks outside of a 'I'm sad when friends fight' line (which, again, puts a huge damper on the idea that Penny was always Ironwood/the Ace Ops' puppet and should be glad to be rid of them). Penny is brought into Ruby's group and her opinions disappear because Ruby makes all the decisions. Whatever Ruby says goes and THAT'S why the scroll scene is so horrible. Because we just watched Penny deciding for herself what to do about Winter. We just watched Penny deciding to take on the Maiden powers, making herself the most important person in the Kingdom right now. And then Ruby picks her up and all that goes away. Penny is given the chance to decide things again when Ironwood calls and Ruby takes the scroll away, speaking on her behalf. It does not matter whether Penny actually agrees with Ruby's decisions here, the act of not allowing her to make those decisions for herself speaks volumes.

From then on Penny just stops making choices. Ruby is the one who talks her into forgetting about Ironwood and the Ace Ops. Jaune is the one who decides to split the team and Ruby decided they need to get Amity up. Pietro literally takes control of Penny's body to hack into the system. Penny gets cut off from the group due to the Ace Ops and Nora is the one who decides to help. Prior to literally being hacked, she was more of a puppet in their hands than she was with Ironwood because it's in Ironwood's employ that we actually see Penny pushing back: She's going to be friends with Ruby no matter what, she's going to challenge Winter on her views, she's going to take the powers because that's what needs to be done, etc. But that lack of agency is completely overshadowed by Ironwood's hack Penny plan. Everything looks better compared to that, even if what we're left with is pretty awful on its own. Remember, this is the point in the story where Ironwood is fully evil, post-shooting Oscar and the Councilman. The group can do whatever they want at this point and come off looking "heroic," simply by means of not being Ironwood.

The next time Penny makes a decision is when she stands up to Pietro. Note that prior to this everyone talked her into doing something she says she does not want to do: leaving the group to stay on Amity. Pietro suggests it, Ruby justifies it, Weiss says it might be for the best and Blake ends the conversation by saying they need to leave. Penny goes, "I guess we all have to do some things we would rather not." They all make that decision for her. So she goes, fights Cinder, and then Amity starts to fall. Pietro says, "You’re in no condition to do something like this. Even just the temperature out there could--" and Penny counters "It is our only option."

No, it's not. This is Ruby's option. You can very much not send the totally useless message out, supposedly risking your life in the process ("supposedly" because, again, why this is such a danger for Penny when she was just flying outside with Cinder remains a mystery). Penny treats Ruby's plan as something inevitable. They can't fall back after Penny hacked into the Atlas systems, Penny fought off the Ace Ops, Penny defended Amity from another Maiden. She has to go one step further and risk another death because the concept of saying, "Hey, Ruby's plan isn't feasible anymore" is just never on the table. Ruby is in the mansion sitting around while Penny does all the dangerous work to put her plan into action.

So she pushes back against Pietro in a way she NEVER has with Ruby, insisting that this is how she's going to live her life. Even Maria chimes in with a "we need to remember the big picture." (Wait, the potential death of a Maiden and the loss of the key to the vault isn't a part of the big picture?) Pietro is supposedly in the wrong because he cares about Penny, not the war, but if that's such a bad thing... then what does that make this?

We have a whole scene where Penny wants the group to destroy her to (again, supposedly) help them in the war - take her out as a threat - and they give a resounding, 'Fuck that.' Ruby doesn't want to see her friend dead for the sake of this war. Pietro doesn't want to see his daughter dead for the sake of this war. Yet Pietro is the one who is framed as too narrowminded. Penny standing up to Pietro is meant to be celebratory, but Penny giving in to Ruby is meant to be celebratory too.

And then, of course, once it's Jaune with a sword to her throat, Penny's desire to die is honored.

Then, finally, we have the Ambrosius fiasco. I've spoken at length about this already, but suffice to say we never got a scene where Penny expressed a desire to be turned human. As the above scene demonstrates, her desire to risk her life/die is ignored only when it's Ruby making that call. Otherwise, with Pietro and Jaune, Penny's agency is upheld (however horrible the circumstances). Does she want live a life with a flesh body? Does she have any other ideas how they might eradicate the hack? Would she prefer Ruby try to put her into a new android body first? We have no idea! We never see Ruby ask. We never see that Ruby cares beyond what she wants for Penny. They clearly had the time to hash out all these loophole wishes, but we couldn't have gotten a ten second scene where Penny goes, 'I'm cool with this'? Assuming that Penny knows what they plan to do and that she has no reservations prior to waking up with flesh hands doesn't work, not when her character largely revolves around agency and Ruby has not been showing her that particularly well.

Ruby decides that Penny is on their team (scroll scene). Then she decides that Penny will not die (contrast to Jaune and Pietro). Then she decides that Penny will be saved by stripping away a core part of her identity. Penny goes from being hacked to watching that part of herself actually die, glitching out while her friends smile about it. Ruby spent Penny's entire run insisting that she was a person just as she was, but then Ruby is the one to turn around and take that away from Penny, prior to leading her into a battle where she died again, likely because she was now a fragile flesh girl. Ironwood was given the extreme of trying to take Penny over completely, once he went full Bad Guy, but Ruby is the one who made decisions for Penny throughout this run, with Penny given no chance to speak up for herself. Penny, once at Ruby's side, subscribed to the overarching belief that Ruby is always right (fitting in nicely with Ren's arc of learning to stop questioning things). The story didn't even consider giving Penny different opinions, hesitations, anger, or anything that would truly jeopardizes what Ruby wants, because what Ruby wants is, consistently, treated as the only way to go.

[astralaffairs]

Request: "Hey babe it's been a shitty day, so plz make it better by responding to this. Alright so hear me out: we've all seen the memes, so we know how ppl would react to finding out about fotp thom and mc, but remind me, do we know how Alex reacted???? Lmao there would be such chaos"

___________

"You and Jefferson are dating?" Though Alex's yell was muffled through the phone, his tone was unmistakable, and Y/N cringed at the shrill undertone beneath his fury. "When did this start? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd react exactly how you are now," she said, "and, frankly, it's none of your business who I date."

"You know how long I've hated him for, Y/N," Alex snapped, and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't pick my boyfriends with your career in mind."

"But he's wrong for you," he huffed. "He's gonna prove that to you soon enough, too. He'll start treating you like shit the minute he gets whatever he needs from you."

"And what, exactly, is he trying to get from me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You've been his biggest critic in the media this entire time. He's just trying to shut you up."

"Our relationship hasn't exactly been much of a career-booster for him, either, in case you hadn't noticed," she pointed out, but he only scoffed.

"Oh, he'll be fine. He can just ride on his fucking trust fund for as long as he wants, but what about your career? You need the money."

"I still have a job, y'know. I'm just not covering domestic politics anymore."

"I knew it was suspicious when you changed departments," he muttered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. "I'm coming over. We need to talk about this."

"What?" she asked, eyes widening in surprise. "No, you can't; I have Thomas here with me."

"Too bad. I'm already outside."

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"I left home the minute I saw you on his Instagram."

Y/N grinned, holding her phone against her chest as she looked up at Thomas. "Aw, babe, he follows your Instagram."

He snickered. "Tell him I'm flattered."

"It's disgusting hearing you call him that." Alex's reaction was loud and visceral enough that she could hear it even before she lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Then I guess you're really gonna hate hearing our wedding vows, huh?"

"'Wedding vows'?" Thomas repeated as he raised a teasing eyebrow, folding his arms. She only shushed him, though a small smile played at her lips.

"Your what?" Alex's reaction was to a similar end, but it had a very different tone. "No. No way. This is where I draw the line. I swear to god, Y/N, if you marry him, there's no way I'm coming to your wedding."

"That's really too bad. I'm sure he'll be disappointed to hear it," Y/N said, and the sadness in her voice was mocking.

"As though he's gonna be invited when we get married," Thomas grumbled. It was her turn, then, to raise an eyebrow.

"'When'?"

He shrugged, but his grin was broad. "After you lemme know your ring size, at least."

"Isn't it a bit presumptuous of you to think I'm going to say 'yes'?"

"Don't tell me you'd really be willin' to start from square one with somebody else after everything we've been through, sweetheart," he replied matter-of-factly. "The only real question is when I propose."

"Don't get ahead of yourself just yet, Jefferson."

"I'm still here!" Alex's shout pulled her back to the phone call she was still on; she rolled her eyes.

"How could I forget?"

"Let me into your flat," he said, and Y/N looked to Thomas with wide eyes when they could hear his loud footsteps in the hallway outside.

"How'd you get up here?"

"Mira let me in."

"God, she needs to stop doing that," she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Open the door."

She jumped when the sound of him banging on it echoed through her front room. "Alex—" When she regained her bearings, returned to her call, she realized she was talking to a dial tone.

"Unlock this, Y/N." His impatient voice came through the apartment door, that time, muffled, but her head shot up at the sound.

"You need to leave," she insisted. Though Thomas wore a deep-seated frown, neither she nor he moved to get the door. "I don't wanna hear your lecture on how Thomas is gonna ruin my life."

"But he is!"

Thomas rolled his eyes as he stood, and Y/N's eyebrows shot up when she watched him start toward the door. "Wait, at least let me get it," she called after him, but he didn't stop. She stood with a huff to follow him.

He unlocked it. "What d'you want?"

Y/N winced visibly when he opened the door for Alex before she could reach it, and Thomas leaned on one arm against the door frame, towering over him with an impatient eyebrow raised. Alex scowled, undeterred.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Jefferson?" he hissed. "You're really gonna toy with Y/N like this? And for what? If you're trying to get at me, at least do it directly."

The laugh Thomas let out was mirthless, condescending. "You really can't wrap your head around the idea that something isn't about you, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised, since you've always been this self-centered."

"If it isn't about me, then what the hell is your game?" he asked, taking a step closer, but despite Alex's harsh glare, Thomas raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"D'you really think there's no way my intentions are genuine? You think Y/N's that unloveable?" he asked. "That's vicious, even for you."

"I didn't say that she—!"

"Must you two do this right now?" Y/N asked, exasperation heavy in her voice. When Thomas turned to look at her, Alex pushed past him.

"Y/N, I'm just trying to save you from him; don't you see that? He—" Alex froze, his gaze fixed over Y/N's shoulder. "Wait. Why are there so many boxes here? And why is your apartment so empty?"

"I'm moving out," she answered bluntly. He raised a wary eyebrow.

"...and going where?"

"Thomas's place."

"You're moving in together?" he exclaimed, eyes wide. "What the hell are you thinking? Has it even been two weeks since you got together?"

"I mean, officially, it's been a month," she said reasonably, "but, really, we've been fucking for almost a year."

"A year?" Alex repeated. "What the hell, Y/N? What were you thinking?"

"Well, whatever I was thinking, it looks like I'm still thinking it." She shrugged. "Or, y'know, maybe I just couldn't make rent, so I started sleeping with a rich guy. I'm trying to be thrifty."

She could hear Thomas snickering at that, but Alex looked beyond appalled. "You couldn't have gone back to sleeping with Lafayette?" —Thomas scowled— "C'mon, I know how much you like him. You didn't have to sacrifice your morals in order to sleep with him, either, unlike you do with Jefferson."

Thomas's glare was burning, and Y/N huffed. "I was never sleeping with Lafayette."

Alex furrowed his brow. "You weren't?"

"No, I—"

"She was sleepin' with me." Y/N’s skin jumped at the feeling of Thomas's arm around her waist, pulling her close as walked up beside her. Alex's eyes widened. "So fuck off, Hamilton. You can't do anything about this. 'S too late."

She couldn't tell whether it was horror or fury that shone in his wide eyes. "Y/N, you've gotta end this. He's awful and manipulative and narcissistic. Don't listen to what he's saying; it isn't too late to get rid of him."

"Is it too late to get rid of you?" she grumbled, and Alex narrowed his eyes.

"I just want the best for you."

"I don't need you telling me what's best for me," she said impatiently. "Either sit down and make peace with him, or leave. You can't just talk me out of this."

"If you wait any longer, it will be too late."

"Too late for what?" she asked. "What the hell do you think is gonna happen? He's gonna kill me in my sleep?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," he said, scowling, and she rolled her eyes.

"Thomas?" she said, turning to him.

"Hm?"

"Are you planning on killing me in my sleep?"

His mild expression didn't change when he answered, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Mmh, thanks for confirming." She turned back to Alex. "Looks like you were right. Thanks for the warning; you can go now."

"Don't just dismiss this!"

"What were you expecting? I was just going to dump him on the spot when you showed up here?" she asked, and Alex huffed, folding his arms.

"If you had any common sense, that's exactly what you'd do," he said seriously. "He manipulates people, Y/N; that's what he does! And that's what he's doing to you. Don't get attached."

"Alex—"

"Listen, Hamilton." Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose as Thomas released her waist, stepped in front of her. He stood dangerously close to Alex, who didn't move so much as a millimeter away. His expression was cold but deadpanned. "I know we've got a lotta issues. That isn't some secret. But it's not your place to try and ruin my relationship, alright? You don't see me bustin' into your house, tryin' to convince your wife to leave you."

"Are you really comparing your little fling with Y/N to my marriage?"

"Little fling?" Y/N repeated incredulously, but both men ignored her. Thomas shrugged, still staring Alex down.

"I don't see why not. You heard us talkin' about gettin' engaged when you were on the phone, didn't you?"

"No way you're actually getting married," Alex scoffed. He turned to Y/N. "You're not really gonna marry him, are you?"

"I..." When she trailed off, Thomas raised an expectant eyebrow. "I'm not having this conversation right now. I'm not about to get engaged under duress."

"See?" When Alex turned to Thomas, she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not siding with you. I love Thomas, but you can't come here and bully us into getting engaged."

At that, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Hang on, you love him now?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She groaned, rubbing her temples. "You were more willing to believe that we were were getting married than that we've already said 'I love you'? I told you we've been... sort-of together for almost a year."

"Please. This won't last." He turned back on Thomas. "Y/N's never been in a relationship for more than four months. Now that you're official," —the final word was sneered— "the clock is ticking." Alex's eyes shone with vindication when Thomas raised an eyebrow; the concern in his eyes was genuine, and his gaze flickered back to Y/N. "Yeah, that's right. Don't get comfortable. It's only a matter of time before she leaves you, too."

"Will you shut up, Alex?" She looked more frustrated than anything, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "The history you two have doesn't extend to me. I know you hate Thomas. And I also don't care. It doesn't give you the right to talk to him like that, and it absolutely doesn't give you the right to talk about me like that."

"You're just pissed because I'm right."

"No, I'm not! I just fucking hate that—" Y/N cut herself off with a shuddering breath when she heard her own voice beginning to raise. Thomas squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and she felt her tense muscles ease as she looked up at him gratefully. She turned back to Alex. "Y'know what? I want you out of my apartment. I don't have to take this from you. Especially not in my own home."

"You needed to hear it," he warned. "Someone needed to say it before this ends in disaster."

"I don't care what you think, right now. I want you to leave." Her firm tone left no room for negotiation, and although Alex glared up at Thomas, he didn't argue.

"Fine. But when he breaks your heart, you're going to regret not listening to me."

"I think I'll survive," she replied dryly. While she was watching him expectantly, he was still eyeing Thomas, and when he spoke, he disregarded her words.

"I still don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, Jefferson, but I'm not letting you get away with it," he snarled. "I can see right through you, and it's only a matter of time until Y/N does, too."

Thomas licked his lips, his jaw tight and shoulders tense. Although his expression bordered on nonchalance, his tone was threatening. "Believe whatever the hell you want, but if you really think for a second that I'm about to let you drag Y/N into your plot to ruin my life, you've got another thing coming," he said, voice low. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I seem to remember hearin' her ask you to leave."

Alex's narrowed eyes darted between Thomas and Y/N, but after several moments, he just scoffed, meeting Y/N's gaze. "When he starts treating you like shit, don't act like no one warned you it was coming."

She hummed noncommittally. "You'll be the first person I call, just so you can say, 'I told you so.'"

Though he rolled his eyes, he left without another word, slamming the door shut behind him, and Y/N let out a sigh of relief, raking a hand through her hair. "Well, he could've taken that worse."

"I dunno, sweetheart; that was pretty bad," Thomas said, and despite the skepticism in his tone, she shook her head.

"No, Alex has thrown much bigger tantrums about much smaller things," she said, "I'm pretty sure he just got most of his energy out on the car ride here."

"I’ll take your word for it, but..." Thomas trailed off, seeming to have thought better of what he was about to say, and she turned to him with her brow furrowed.

"What, was this seriously the angriest you've ever seen him?"

"Not by far." She eyed him warily when he pursed his lips. "But... what was he sayin' about none of your relationships lastin' more than four months? Was that all true?"

Her eyebrows jumped at the worry that flickered in his eyes. When she stepped forward, laid a hand on his chest, he didn't pull away, and she took that as permission enough to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, to pull him close. "You know he was just trying to get a rise out of you, right? He just wants you to feel insecure in our relationship."

"But was it true?" he asked. "You really never been with the same person for more than a couple months?"

"That has nothing to do with us."

"Answer me." He was looking down at her with severity in his gaze, and she frowned.

"Yeah. It's true." Her eyes dropped away from his as she played with the curls at the back of his neck. "Does that really change the way you look at me?"

"It changes the way I see us, if 'm honest," he murmured, and Y/N brought a hand up to his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin.

"It shouldn't. None of my relationships lasted because I didn't love any of the people I dated. But I love you, Thomas," she said seriously. "Do you know that you're the first person I've said ever that to? Family and friends aside, of course."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She pushed herself onto her toes to kiss him lightly. "And I mean it. I've always been terrified of commitment, but... being with you doesn't scare me."

"God, I should hope not," he said, a trace of a laugh buried in his voice. "If you were scared, 'm pretty sure I'd be doin' something wrong."

"Well, in all honesty, I was an anxious wreck the first time I told you I loved you," she admitted. "I was almost hoping you'd outright reject me so that I'd have to move on."

His grin was broad. "So, what I'm hearin' is that I oughta stop makin' jokes about marriage?"

"Only if you don’t want me running for the hills," she said, but her tone was playful. "In all seriousness, if you were anybody else, I'd have started packing my bags the minute you asked me for my ring size. There’s a reason I’m still here."

"Good." He leaned down to bump his nose against hers. "'Cause I do wanna marry you. Doesn't matter to me when it happens, but I'm gonna get a ring on your finger if it's the last thing I do."

She grinned. "Go right ahead." When he kissed her, she pulled him tighter against herself and he wrapped his arms snug around her waist. "Guess I'm gonna have to call the jeweler, now," she murmured against his lips. "Gotta see when's the next time they can get me in so I can get sized for a ring."

"Who said I was the one proposing?" Thomas asked incredulously, and Y/N pulled away just enough to look him in the eye.

"Me. You're the one with all the money."

"Now, this doesn't seem quite fair."

She laughed. "Listen, when a million-dollar trust fund falls into my lap, I'll be more than happy to buy the engagement rings. But until then, the burden's on you and your inheritance, Jefferson."

"'N that's a burden I'm more than willing to take on, sweetheart," he said. "The minute I get your ring size, the trust fund'll take care of the rest."

"The minute you get it?"

"If that's what you want."

"Not so fast, Jefferson." She rested a hand on his chest. "Try living with me for a few months, and then we can revisit."

"I'm holdin' you to that."

[yandere-daydreams]

Jealous Yandere Oikawa with the reader? The reader knows that somethings up with his possesiveness, and his fangirls are growing restless but haven't threatened her yet; waiting for the balloon to burst, sort of?

My feelings are Oikawa are… *varied*, but I have to admit, he’d make a wonderful long-burn Yandere. The man’s just good at working with people, even if they’d rather not work with him.

TW: Formerly Abusive Relationships and Delusional Behavior. 

~

It felt like you were holding your breath, when he was in the room.

Usually, it wasn’t bad. Even as the Volleyball Club’s manager, you managed to make yourself scarce whenever his attention wandered from the game at-hand, occupying yourself with trivial tasks and rarely letting yourself be alone, dealing with concerned friends and off-looks as they arose. Aversion was your favorite tactic, and you were a brilliant strategist, Oikawa as inspiring a muse as you could ask for.

But, everyone has their off-days. You couldn’t keep your guard up all the time.

And Oikawa had always been so good at spotting the weak spots in your defenses.

Unconsciously, you bit the inside of your cheek, keeping your eyes narrowed on the pavement in front of you as Oikawa exited the gym. You’d always changed faster than the rest of the team, leaving you to wait outside or flee the moment practice ended, the latter often leading to more invasive conversations, more questions about your ‘strange’ new habits. He usually came out with everyone else, but Oikawa must’ve sped through his routine today.

He’d caught onto your pattern, again.

He didn’t stand in front of you, thankfully, leaning on the gym’s wall at your side. You thought about taking your phone out, pretending someone was calling for you, running for it, but he was talking before you had a chance to decide, his voice more similar to nails on a chalkboard than the pleasant ring he clearly tried for. “You tried to catch one of Iwa-chan’s serves, today,” He started, not bothering with a greeting. Part of you was thankful for his briefness, but that minority was quickly overwhelmed by your instinct to shy away at the slightest sign of his displeasure. “You could break a finger, that way, and don’t want our precious manager getting injured. It’d be terrible for morale.”

You didn’t hesitate. You knew he saw, and you knew he would bring it up. “That’s not your call to make.” Pausing, you dared to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, letting yourself relax when his neutral expression faltered. Still, his anger was instantly pushed below the surface, buried beneath a thousand layers of pure, people-pleasing tranquility. “It was out of bounds. I was just doing my job, and no one got hurt. No one ever does, Tooru.”

“So cold, (Y/n)!” He mocked, straightening his back and clutching a hand to his heart, stumbling forward in faux-pain before realizing you weren’t going to react. Even then, his showmanship didn’t relent, a wide, innocent smile spread across his features as he turned to face you, as painted on as any other he’d worn. “Is it so bad for me to worry about the love of my life? All good boyfriends are a little protective, it's only natural.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.” It was hard not to feel frustrated, enraged by the way he blocked out anything you said. It’d always been that way, if you were being honest, even before you let yourself acknowledge it. You wondered if Oikawa had made that connection, yet, or if he was just too good at ignoring the issue for you to tell. “You don’t get to act like you are, anymore,” You went on, fighting to keep any audible venom out of your words. “We broke up months ago--”

He sighed, loudly, over-dramatically, determined to silence you before he bothered speaking. “How long are you going to keep this up?” He asked, the exasperation in his voice nearly genuine. “I don’t think I ever agreed to that, are you sure it’s not just one of your jokes? I bet the rest of the team put you up to it, when’s the ‘big reveal’ coming?” There was an abstract hand-gesture, a slight wave to further dismiss your feelings, leaving you gritting your teeth to keep from escalating. “All this free-time is getting to me, too. You know how lonely I get when you’re not talking to me.” 

He chuckled, going quiet for a moment, looking away from you. Suddenly, he was on one of the girls crossing in front of the gym, a first-year who attended his games religiously. You’d never seen him speak a word to her, but that did little to soothe your nerves. “You wouldn’t want me to get desperate, would you?”

There was something in his tone, dark and awful and disgusting, your annoyance boiling over in the blink of an eye. You weren’t going to hit him, you wouldn’t hit him, but… it got close. As soon as you raised your hand, though, Oikawa reacted, catching you by the wrist and clamping down, his grip strong enough for the bones in your arm to scream under the pressure. “And this is why I have to be worried about you. If I wasn’t here, who would stop you from doing something bad?” Again, his hold tightened, and you cringed despite your best efforts to stay calm. Oikawa only smirked, his eyes just a little brighter than before. “Admit it, you can’t take care of yourself. You need--”

“(Y/n).” Both of you snapped towards the gym doors, neither having noticed Iwaizumi exit. Luckily, he was the first one out, the rest of the club emerging in scattered groups. Oikawa separated from you immediately, locking his hands behind his back as if nothing had happened. But, Iwaizumi was the one to break the silence, ignoring his companion’s attempts to hide his guilt. “I’m walking you home, right? We should leave before it gets dark.”

He wasn’t. He’d never walked you home before, and you didn’t think he ever wanted to, judging by all the times he’d shot the idea down before you could bring it up. But, you nodded eagerly, fighting not to sprint as you moved towards his side. “Right. I’m sorry, Hajime, thanks for waiting!”

You didn’t look back at Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s attempt to start a conversation falling flat as you kept your head bowed, latching onto his arm and refusing to let go, not until you were sure you were safe. You should’ve relaxed, at that point, released the tension in your shoulders and breathed, but you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to inhale.

Hesitantly, you glanced over your shoulder, the sight that met you sickening, but far from surprising. You could always feel Oikawa staring, even when he wasn’t being obvious. Unfalteringly, he met your gaze, raising a hand and waving, his grin alone enough to choke the air from your lungs.

“See you tonight, sweetheart!”

[wafflewarriors]

Runaway Winchester

Through all your years with the Winchesters, after running from demons and vampires and ghosts. After sticking up for one another and having each other's backs, it had never crossed your mind that you might run from them.

Here you were, bare necessities held by straps on your shoulders. A silver knife at your waistband and a loaded gun on your hip. A vial of holy water, a little bag of salt, an iron poker, all in your drawstring bag. Flannel, jeans, and steel toe boots were your current friends.

You stopped at a nearby bus stop. It was an hour wait until the next bus came, but you were confident you were far enough from the boys to relax a bit. Most shops were closed, so you just quietly minded yourself on the bench, admiring the crickets' songs and the soothing dark of the night.

To most hunters, the night was their enemy. But you couldn't see what was to blame it for. Despite the chaos that occured with monsters in the night, they also lurked the same amount in the day. There is an equal enough balance of time of day and monsters' activity that it was stupid to fear it. Fear the monsters, not the dark.

You were going to stay alert for this last trip and then crash at the next motel. You were covering your tracks alright, you thought. You had ditched most of your identification, minus your backup one that they weren't aware you even owned. You had set your phone to the bare minimum apps, only still with you to call emergency services if it ever came to that.

You were tired. Bone tired and ready to sleep, but not so exhausted that you couldn't wait an hour. You had to wait an hour. This was your only shot to cover up your trail. You'd been purposely leading the Winchesters east awhile, but you planned on do a 180° on them. You had a rough idea of what you wanted. To go far west, lay low in the country, help out at a farm to earn some kind of pay.

And avoid hunting at all costs.

Because that would lead the Winchesters right to you.

It wasn't that you hated them. It really wasn't. They were the bravest, best men you'd ever met. A little too selfless, a bit harsh, maybe... but good-hearted and well-meaning.

You just… you just didn't mix.

Specifically with Dean Winchester.

He said your music taste was terrible; he said that you were too girly, that he didn't want the chick flick moments; he always rejected your attempts at hugs, which usually were more for yourself than anything, and it made you feel worse when he withdrew and gave you stupid excuses; he offered you no reassurance when you failed at something because 'there's no room for mistakes' even though he made them everyday, more so than you ever did.

He was just so frustrating.

There were arguments. Over everything. So many long, tiresome circling arguments of the same topic like you were both in a time loop. There was always something to blame about you. You were too careful, or too pushy, too confident, too determined. Your personalities were polar to his and it led to heated discussions like whether they should gank the seemingly moral werewolf, or to run in a vamp nest on a whim.

Dean would always throw it in your face when you were too reckless. They would throw it in your face when you were wrong, and when you had screwed it up. Like you didn't know it already. Like you didn't tell yourself again and again a million times in your head, each day, every night. Reminding yourself of your failures so repeatedly that there was a rhythm to it. No, they didn't need to do it for you. That was already your job.

After those terrible arguments of raised voices and mean, glaring eyes, Sam would then try and console you. Honestly, it just made you feel worse. Even if he didn't try to, he always took Dean's side in the long run. He'd tell you what Dean really meant to say, without his swearing and impulsive wording. 

And every single time, you were in the wrong. It seemed as if the world was spinning in the opposite direction as you were.

So you left.

In fact, you didn't really question it. You just wanted to clear your head for a while. You didn't know how long… just… a while.

You knew they would look for you. And as much as you were a friend, you were also a responsibility. A chore. Something to save and protect and hoard. But you knew that if you waited long enough, a larger, meaner priority would come along and rip away their attention. And hopefully, they would slowly forget about you.

At least, that was your plan.

Still curled up against the bench, you felt a drizzle of rain against your face. And as your flannel began to soak with cold water, you wished you were still in the warm safety of the bunker with a leather jacket around your shoulders. A little laugh bubbled up and you let your hair shake and drip down onto your jeans in hilarity. 

It was a stupid wish.

///

After Dean called your name for the third time with no response, he was fed up. He was already livid; you had, once again, run into danger even though Dean had specifically told you to wait in the car. It wasn't that he didn't trust you, but the ghost had been disemboweling young women for the past two straight weeks, and he had been admittedly nervous for you. Was that too much to ask?

He got out of his chair, throwing the useless, stupid research on the glowing table map thingy that he hadn't really named yet. He went marching over to your room, irritation carved into every feature of his face. He said while throwing open your door, "I swear if you don't come out of here, we are going to have some issu—"

You weren't there.

He spent several seconds blinking at the scene, and it took several more to connect the dots. Dean ended up standing there for twenty seconds, bow legged and leaning against the doorframe. His irritation quickly melted into a look of utter bafflement. Where..? Nobody was in the kitchen. Nobody was in the war room. Nobody was…

Your room was empty. Too empty. Kind of a spotless empty. You weren't a very neat person. There was always a little clutter, usually a flannel or two thrown about. You weren't a slob, you were on the road too much for that, but you were never this excessively clean.

From bafflement, came fear. His eyes widened, his mouth too, and soon he was shouting your name through the bunker.

Dean's heart stuttered when he heard footsteps. He breathed, "Oh, thank—"

But it wasn't you. It was Sam.

"What is it?" His brother asked.

The million dollar question.

Sam became concerned as the silence grew and he continued to observe the panic drawn in Dean's eyebrows. "Dean?"

"She's gone," Dean blurted. "She's… she's… her room's spotless, and her gun, and her knife, and her—" Dean tugged at his hair and swore. Loudly.

"Hey, calm down. We'll find her."

Dean shook his head. "We taught her all there is to know about hiding."

"Yeah. We taught her. We know all her tricks."

"Knowing her tricks and knowing how to get around them is a lot different, Sam! How are you going to track a disabled cell phone? Huh? And how, pray tell, are you going to track someone who usually makes all the ID scams? She probably has ID's we don't know exist! Sam, she could be anywhere."

Sam look lost in thought. "She always liked the country," he murmured.

"What?"

"Dean, come on, think. Her country music that you always complain about? She grew up on a farm before she started hunting. Come on, you know that. She loved it."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Of course it doesn't. God, Dean, no wonder she left! You don't pay any attention to her!"

He scoffed. "Course I do."

"Yeah? Then what's her favorite color?" Sam asked quietly. He looked down at his brother with a disappointed look.

Dean decided he hated that look. "Her favorite color? Come on, what are we, second graders?"

"You don't know," Sam whispered in an uncomfortably sad awe, like Dean forgot his birthday or something mushy like that.

Dean decided he did not like that at all. "Blue," he said, trying to sound confident. But as Sam's face fell further, and all that confidence deflated like a popped balloon. His brother had on those stupid puppy eyes of his and it was giving Dean a headache.

"It's green," Sam told him. "You know why?"

"Why."

Sam leaned up against the wall, amazed. "She likes your eyes. She thinks they're nice."

Dean's ears must have malfunctioned. "What?"

"I can't believe you are that clueless. For someone who constantly dishes out pickup lines and hooks up with girls, you sure can't read her, can you?" Sam shook his head and decided to lay it out as flat and as plain as he possibly could for Dean's sake. "She likes you, idiot."

Dean's face was unreadable. His stupid head wasn't computing any of this. All his mind could do was could do was ask stupid, stupid questions. Why did she leave? She liked me? Do I even listen to her? Do I yell too much? Do I dismiss her? But there was one he couldn't help but single out. One he couldn't help but pour his focus to: Why didn't I take it easy on her?

Dean's face finally broke into one of overwhelming regret. "What have I done, Sammy?"

///

Just three days after settling at an orchard with the Carter family, you were finally finding yourself again. Finding your usefulness. Sure, the days stretched long and hot, but each one was as rewarding as the last. You were healing from the hunts, slowly, but surely.

It felt really good. Like, really good. Healthier than you'd been in weeks. Rich, homemade meals, and no fast food made you feel incredible. You even managed a regular sleep schedule, and while it wasn't perfect, it was something. Nightmares still plagued you, but they felt far away. Unreachable in such a wonderful home and environment.

You forgot how much you missed the country.

The Carter family was extremely kind to you. You simply had asked them for a bit of shelter from the rain and they took you in under their wing without question.

They were so wonderful that the Winchesters probably would have been suspicious. And as much as you didn't want to be skeptical, the hunter side of you was screaming. This punch in the gut feeling that something wasn't right, something wasn't normal. And you couldn't shake it.

But this happened all the time with hunts, didn't it? And then you would screw everything up to a gut feeling. So maybe this time you could just forget it. You were sick of messing up. You deserved this. This little bit of happiness.

They were older, late sixties, but so pure and kind hearted. Mrs.Carter made pies, and it reminded you of Dean. While Mr.Carter would often read in his lonesome, and you couldn't help but think of Sam.

Was this what they were? Replacements?

This? This gut feeling was just a little home-sickness. You weren't used to the eerie silence; you were used to blasting 80's music, the rumble of the Impala, or the tap of keys on a laptop. Hell, you were used to Dean shouting at you.

Here, you were without the faint smell of whiskey and instead sweet hay. The country had become so unfamiliar that half of you had shut down. You had locked the door and chucked the key into the farthest reaches of your mind, because it hurt. You lost your home and farm to supernatural creatures, and had lost yourself in the world of hunting. You forgot the peaceful life that came with the country.

You traced the symbol carved into the bed frame. Where had you seen this before? It was clearly old, and you'd seen it several times throughout the farm. On the barn doors, the mailbox, even the front door. What was it? Why couldn't you remember?

See? Again, here you were, doubting the Carters. You couldn't believe yourself.

You opened your phone. Six missed calls from Dean were painfully lit up on your lock screen. Biting your lip, you turned off airplane mode. Hovering your finger over the 'call' button when you heard someone shouting your name.

It was dinnertime. 

You had tossed your phone on the bed, scoffing at how ridiculous you were, doubting such wonderful people.

You made your way to the kitchen, where a beautiful meal was laid out for the family. You were just amazed at how fantastic the food was. It was like a dream Thanksgiving. Heavenly mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, stuffing, and a large, golden roast. You didn't know where to start.

"Wow," you whispered.

Mr. Carter patted you on the shoulder. "Please, eat as much as you'd like."

The food was good, as always. Really good. And after you were satisfied, you began to excuse yourself and walk to the sink to put your plate in.

"Where are you running off to?" Mrs. Carter asked. "There's still desert!"

You paused. "Oh, no, I'm okay—"

"I insist," she said, putting a plate of pumpkin pie at your seat. Just as you were about to protest, she set a spoonful of whipped cream on top of the giant slice.

A bit reluctant, you sat back down, carefully picking up your fork and taking a bite of the pie. You supposed you could eat it, if it would make her happy.

She beamed at you. "You were such a scrawny thing when you came here. Now look at you! Full meals! I nice bed to sleep on!"

You slowly nodded. "Thank you for all this, really, but I think I'll get out of your hair tomorrow morning." Something felt off. You didn't really know. But this gut feeling wasn't disappearing.

Mr. Carter sighed. "Unfortunately, we can't let you do that."

You were completely frozen. You had your fork in your mouth, staring up at them in something akin to terror.  You were internally cursing yourself for not trusting your instincts.

THIS IS EXACTLY WHY THE WINCHESTERS WERE RIGHT, something inside you screamed.

You had thought something in the whipped cream tasted funny. Good thing you just kept on eating, idiot. This is why Dean is so harsh on you. This is why you shouldn't have run away.

"Just let it sink in. You'll feel so much better," someone cooed in your ear. "So much better."

You didn't like it. All you could hear was the rattled sound of your panicked, shallow breath, and you realized your eyes were closed.

"So much better."

///

Sam and Dean were on their own little search party for three days.

Dean was antsy. "Sam, I don't know, maybe she's not here. There are so many other towns with farms."

"This is where the bus got off. Dean, look: I mapped out the entire bus system and this is the shortest and easiest way to get anything near the country. She has to be here."

"I know, it's just, where is she then? We checked twenty-two families already. Twenty-two, Sam!"

"I know, but I have this… I dunno, this gut feeling that we missed her, and I—" 

"The Carters'." Dean cut Sam off, eyes flashing with horrified realization. "That—that symbol on their front door. I couldn't put my finger on it, but those are for pagan gods, Sam."

Sam shifted his feet. "How do you know for sure?"

"Don't you remember the scarecrow? The… the…  That town that took couples and sacrificed them? There was that book on pagan gods. But I saw that symbol." He shook his head. "I knew I had seen that symbol somewhere, damn it. I should have said something."

"You're saying the Carters' could have kidnapped her?"

"It's a start."

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Jeez."

"Yeah, no kidding."

///

You came to with a blazing headache. You managed a squinty glare, keeping what little dignity as you watched your captors defiantly.

"There you go, little hunter." Someone's hand, their cold, clammy hand, rested on your shoulder. "We saw your little bag. You're a hunter, aren't you?"

You didn't respond, finding little reason to.

"Yeah, we thought so."

This guy was getting on your nerves fast, so you decided to bluff. "Sam and Dean, they're going to be pissed when they find me. I'd watch out if I were you."

Mr.Carter came into view. "I don't think you believe that, do you? You came here to hide. And it sounds to me like you did a pretty good job of it."

Your jaw clenched. "They're coming."

"Sure they are. You keep telling yourself that," Mrs.Carter murmured. "Hope they come soon. Our boy, here? Trust me, he's very hungry. A century of fasting does that to you, dear." Her smile was deceivingly warm. "Think he'll like that pumpkin pie, dearest?"

Mr.Carter grinned. "How couldn't he?"

You were so uncomfortable and lost and scared. How did you get here? Why couldn't you have just chosen the next farm over? Why does stupid hunter luck always lead you to monsters? From their conversation, it sounded like they were making a sacrifice. And something was going to eat you. Alive.

Through your evergrowing panic also came disappointment with this reality. Maybe this was God's will. Maybe he wanted you dead. Maybe this was good—you wouldn't be a problem for the Winchesters any longer, right? A lone tear tracked down your face—God, I don't wanna die.

The Carters would see to it that you did, though.

And this time, the Winchesters weren't going to find you. You had made sure of it. Your tracks were covered, so unless they got really innovative, they weren't going to track you down. To find you, you'd have to practically map out every route you could have taken.

As if they had the time to do that.

You worked your hands at the bindings, but your wrists and ankles were raw and sore. The knife stored in your pocket was too far from your hands to reach, so you were helpless. How the hell did Dean escape all the time?

You hurt a rattle of chains in the caged room in front of you. It was a dark cell, and the light was too murky to see what lied beyond the curtain. But there was a silhouette, and from what you could see, it wasn't human.

"It's a rabid werewolf, if you're curious." Mrs.Carter cooed at you, tracing your chin. "It won't hurt all that bad. Really dear."

Liar.

It was then that a chime rang through the house. The doorbell. The Carters sent you a wide eyed look, but before they could threaten you, you let out your loudest, shrillest scream.

///

Sam brought his hand to the doorbell, hesitating. "Dean, if she's not in there, we'll just be attacking an innocent family. Are you sure those markings are legit?" He couldn't see beyond the door of old wood and screen, only that the light was on and there were, in fact, people home. That wasn't much to go on.

"Sam, I'm sure. Let's do this, c'mon. Ring the doorbell. She could actually be in trouble right now."

Sam swore under his breath and pressed the button, listening to the soft chime echo throughout the house.

And after a pause, they heard a scream.

Both their eyes flashed. Dean kicked down the flimsy door, shoving past the kitchen to the source of the noise. As did Sam.

///

To your relief, you heard a thud from upstairs. The Winchesters had actually found you. They had kicked the door down and they were coming for you. They were coming. That was the only possibility because the Carters were petrified.

The cage jolted behind you. Before you could let out another yell for help, you were slammed to the ground. Mrs.Carter forced a cloth into your mouth and you gagged around it. She brought a belt around your neck and pulled, choking you and lugging you toward the cage. You struggled, kicking your feet at nothing and clawing at your throat, but whatever monster she was, she was much stronger than you.

By the time your face was red from a lack of air, there was a rapping of shoes against the wood of the stairs, and finally Sam was sprinting down the staircase. He wielded a stake in his right hand. Dean came down a second after. Sam lunged for Mr.Carter while Dean took on Mrs.Carter.

Both (pagans, you now assumed) fought hard, hissing and spitting at the hunters. But the Winchesters were trained fighters. Dean staked Mr.Carter right in the chest, growling as he twisted the stake into the monster's flesh. Mrs.Carter, however, wasn't staked in time, because she managed to snag the cage's lever. The cage yawned, and there was a pause. Then, the beast flew out at Sam, howling and slashing.

You gasped, grateful, but terrified. "Werewolf!" You hoarsely called. "It's a werewolf!"

Dean took a second to process that, but the second he did, the werewolf had two silver bullets to the chest.

The beast rocked, freezing in confusion and pain before it fell back.

"Timber," Dean said sarcastically. He made his way over to you, stepping over the corpses. "Are you… good? They didn't hurt you?"

You coughed, rubbing your sore neck but mostly alright. "I think I'm in one piece."

"Good." He threw down a hand.

You took his offer, wincing as he helped you to your feet, and you wavered a little.

He sent you that look.

You were quick to assure him. "Uh… she was dragging me. Lifted my shirt and scraped my back against the floor." You adjusted your rumpled shirt. "It's nothing."

Dean crossed his arms. "It's not nothing. None of this is nothing. Why the hell did you leave?"

"Because I screw everything up! I'm a liability, Dean. Every hunt you either bench me or I get captured or hurt or something, and that makes me a weakness in the next hunt. I'm pulling you down. I can't even leave right! I can't do anything without you having to swoop in and keep my ass out of trouble." You took a long needed breath, feeling weightless. "I don't want you to feel like I'm your responsibility. Like I'm just another chore."

Sam's face tightened. "You don't actually think—"

"I was trying to make this easier. I was trying to stay hidden, so that you two would give up and actually move onto things that are important. You guys constantly have things on your mind and you can't afford a distraction."

Dean and Sam's frowns both deepened.

"Look, I'm really grateful for this. I literally almost got fed to the wolves, here. But how in hell did you find me?"

Sam shifted. "We tracked all the routes you could have taken. I figured you'd always loved the country. We talked with a few families—"

"Twenty-two," Dean cut in.

"—er, yeah, twenty-two. Um, but Dean remembered the pagan symbols, so we figured this was the place. Turns out we were right, thank god."

You deflated. "I... saw those. Didn't think they meant anything." They always mean something. Do your goddamn research next time instead of blindly trusting a family that so generously takes you under their roof. You really thought people other than monsters would do that?

You brought your eyes up, observing them. And then a little part of you thought, they did that.

Yeah, they did. The Winchesters took you as their own. Maybe that's why you put your blind faith into these monsters, because they had reflected your life with the boys. Maybe the monsters did that on purpose, luring in their prey with things they loved and missed.

The Winchesters were confused and hurt, and probably didn't understand, but you were still family. With time, they would work around this.

"We'll work around this," Sam said, as if he had read your mind.

Sometimes, you wondered if this life was just a dream. That all these events were so coincidental, that there was always a monster around the corner and a Winchester at the next, ready to save you.

"You're not a burden. You're family and you're a hunter. That means something. If nobody made mistakes on hunts, there would be nothing to learn from. Nothing to grow off of. Listen, you can't have possibly made more mistakes than Dean or me, and you certainly aren't less forgivable. You do remember I started the Apocalypse, right?"

"We both did, Sammy," Dean said, nudging him.  He looked at you thoughtfully, and then pulled you into a tight hug.

You were too shocked to say anything.

"Hey I’m really sorry if I made you feel less important. That’s not what I wanted. You just scare the hell outta’ me and I don’t know… I get scared for you. I know this hunter life is scary and unpredictable, but nobody can do it alone. Nobody. That's a lesson Sam and I have learned after years and years of mistakes in this life. The mistakes don't end, and neither do the monsters, but if we got each other, we can learn to solve these problems together, alright? You got me?" He kissed your forehead. "God, I love you kid."

You allowed yourself a little happiness in his arms. But after a moment, you couldn't help it. "Damn." You paused. "Did you just have a chick flick moment?"

"No."

"You totally did!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sam, back me up here."

Sam laughed. "It's okay, Dean. We all know you're a softie."

Dean scoffed, but soon he was laughing too. He clapped a hand on your back.

"Let's go get some pie. Pie solves everything."

He was right. It did.

And by God, did he blast country music the whole way home.

[inyournightmares97]

Ultimatum (Part 3)

Park Jinyoung is a master negotiator. He’s used to preying on people’s weaknesses and manipulating them to get his way. So he can’t understand you; a lawyer who sees the world in black and white, as either good or bad. Conflict is inevitable.

But if the two of you can just set aside your differences, perhaps you can perform miracles together.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: Angst, office!au, enemies to lovers!au. Some language.

Part 1: In Which You Win

Part 2: In Which He Wins

Part 3: In Which the Common Enemy Appears 

Part 4: In Which You Work Together

Part 5: In Which Nobody Wins (coming soon)

Part 6: In Which Everybody Wins (coming soon)

"Sorry I'm late," you apologized, hurrying towards the desk where your co-workers were sitting. They both looked grim. "I got a call from my mother’s care home so I had to drop by to visit before work. Have you been waiting long?"

Yugyeom bit his lip. "It's… it's not that."

"Huh?"

"There’s an email from HR. I think you got it too. You should take a look, it's not good news."

Suddenly recognizing how ominous the atmosphere was, you started up your laptop. There was an email from HR with the subject heading Transfers to New Busan Office. Heartbeat thudding, you clicked on the email. It was a polite, friendly note to inform everyone that the entire Legal, Sales and Marketing departments would be shifting to the new Busan office, and that individual transfer orders would be sent across soon. 

"What the fuck?" you demanded. 

"It's not true, is it? Are they really going to make us move to Busan?" Youngjae asked. He tapped his fingers on the table nervously. "My wife is giving birth in 2 months, I don't want to move a heavily pregnant woman across the country. We were counting on my mother-in-law's help with the baby. But there's no way she'll move to Busan."

Yugyeom nodded miserably. "I don't want to go there either. I just bought a flat here last month. I took out a mortgage!"

You shook your head in disbelief. "This can't be right. I thought they were hiring new folk for the Busan office. I saw the recruitment files myself! Why do they want to send half the existing departments there? I'm going to have a word with HR-"

"There's no use," Yugyeom cut you off. "I already asked some people from HR. They said there's nothing they can do, because the orders came directly from the CEO."

You frowned. "That bastard."

"Will you talk to him?"

"Of course I'll talk to him," you replied. You slammed your laptop shut and stood up. "I'll go talk to him right now."

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

"Sorry, the CEO is speaking to someone right now," the secretary told you patiently. 

"Yes, but it's urgent-"

"Ma'am, it doesn't matter how urgent it is, I can't let you barge into his office while he's already talking to someone! Please understand the situation and be patient. I'm sure Mr. Park will be out in a few minutes."

You groaned audibly. "He's talking to Jinyoung?"

"Yes."

Fantastic. That slimy little creature was probably making everything worse. You suddenly remembered that the email had also mentioned the Sales department shifting to Busan. It struck you that Jinyoung was in there right now, sucking up to the CEO and being the selfish, arrogant bastard he had always been. 

Park Jinyoung never did anything for anyone else's benefit. 

He could screw up the company's deals all he wanted, but there was no way you were going to let him screw up your life. 

"Good morning," you greeted the CEO politely as you barged into his office. The secretary yelled after you, scandalized, but you ignored her. "I'm here to talk about the email I received about some departments shifting to Busan?"

Jinyoung was seated in front of the CEO's desk. His dark eyes twinkled as he turned in his chair to face you. 

"We were just discussing that," he remarked. 

"Excellent, then you won't mind if I join," you cut in. You sat down beside Jinyoung and turned to face the CEO. The young negotiator’s gaze was fixed on you but you refused to look at him. Jinyoung’s despicable face would only make you lose your temper. 

"This is a little surprising," the CEO commented with a raised eyebrow. "But I assume you have something to say?"

"I do, actually," you replied. There was no smile on your face. "I thought I should save you some time. Our employment contracts don't contain mobility clauses. We never consented to the possibility of being asked to shift to a different city for work. I could explain the law to you in depth, but in short the conclusion remains the same. The company cannot legally force any of us to go to Busan."

The CEO blinked. "You're right. I can't force any of you to move."

"So then you agree that-"

"You always have the option of leaving the company.”

You flinched. You hadn’t imagined that the CEO would say something like that to your face but he was looking you right in the eyes and telling you that he would fire you for refusing to move. You didn’t know how to respond. 

“But-you can’t fire us without justified reason-”

“I’m not firing you. I’m offering you a job in Busan. If you don’t want to take it then you can always go seek employment elsewhere,” he replied calmly.

“That amounts to constructive dismissal, it’s illegal!” you replied hotly. You had hoped to keep your temper under control but the CEO was being absurd. How could he flip a switch overnight and decide that everybody had to either go to Busan or quit? “You realize that I could easily challenge a dismissal like that in a court of law?”

The CEO raised an eyebrow. “Again, it’s not a dismissal. I’m offering you employment in Busan.”

“How exactly do you plan to handle the fallout of entire departments quitting-”

“I don’t think that’s your concern. If you don’t want to go to Busan, then you’re free to hand in your resignation. We can even negotiate a severance package,” the CEO replied shortly. He placed his hands on his desk and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a Board meeting to attend. If you want to discuss this further you’ll have to make an appointment with my secretary.”

You watched in silent shock when the CEO stood up and walked out of his office. Your heart sank. This was more serious than you had thought. The CEO wasn’t the sort of person to make empty threats. What were you going to do? 

Park Jinyoung cleared his throat. 

“Well, good job fucking that up,” he commented. 

Your head whipped around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“Do you always barge headfirst into situations without even thinking about it? What made you think it was a good idea to talk to the CEO like that?” Jinyoung demanded. You could hear the irritation in his tone. “You ruined the entire mood by making him hostile. You should have left it to me. I was handling it.”

“Handling it? You?” you demanded. 

“Yes. At least I’m not idiot enough to barge in and pick a fight with the man who employs me,” Jinyoung retorted. He folded his arms across his chest while his dark eyes scanned you with displeasure. “Have you ever heard of power dynamics? Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Even a dog knows that.” 

“I’m not a dog,” you snapped. 

“That’s not what-”

“What the CEO is doing isn’t legal. If you’re saying I should smile and fawn and flatter a man that is trying to fuck with my employment contract illegally, then I’m sorry. I’m not in the habit of having negotiations with people who can’t respect the law. That’s not power dynamics. That’s sycophancy.”

Jinyoung sighed. “God, you’re impossible. Don’t you have any understanding of how the world works? How can you see everything in black and white?”

“Go to hell, Park.”

“Nope. You don’t get to be mad at me. I was trying to convince the CEO not to issue transfer orders but you barged in and fucked it up by making him mad. That’s on you. So don’t pull the moral superiority card on me today. That won’t work. I was doing my part.”

You blinked at him. “I don’t trust you.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Understandable. But-”

“I think you’re a selfish piece of shit that has no concern for anyone around him. You can suck the CEOs dick all you want, Jinyoung. Don’t expect me to believe you’re doing it for us,” you snapped.

Jinyoung stared at you in surprise. He hadn’t expected to hear you using such crude language, but your flushed face and trembling hands made it clear that you weren’t thinking straight. You were distressed and somehow, Jinyoung didn’t want to aggravate you further. He took a deep breath and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. 

“Fine,” he surrendered calmly. “You use your methods and I’ll use mine.”

“Fine.”

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

“The CEO really said that? He said we could either go to Busan or quit?”

You nodded. You were too angry to speak. The more you thought about the encounter, the more furious it made you. You had been working at this company for 3 years. You had given so much of your time, effort and dedication to doing your job perfectly and this was the gratitude you received? Being asked to either shift halfway across the country or quit? 

“Yeah. He said it.”

“What are we going to do?” Yugyeom cried. 

“We’re going to show him he can’t violate our employment contracts like this. I won’t stand for it. I refuse to go to Busan and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” you ranted as you rummaged through your textbooks. You had some research to do. You were flipping through volumes on labobur laws frantically when Yugyeom spoke. 

“Is it… is it because of your mom?” he asked quietly. 

You hesitated. You didn’t speak about your personal life much at work, but perhaps Yugyeom had picked up a few things from random tidbits you dropped. 

“Uh, yeah. She’s at a medical facility for the elderly right now. I can’t leave her here and move to a different city. I also don’t think her health could withstand the move. If it comes down to it, then I’ll have to quit and look for a new job. Busan isn’t an option for me,” you mumbled. 

Yugyeom bit his lip. “But it won’t come down to it, right?”

“It will unless you pick up that book and get reading. Find me everything you can on constructive dismissal,” you ordered him sharply. “Where’s Youngjae?”

“He went to talk to Sales and Marketing to find out what’s going on.”

“Well, call him and tell him to hurry back. We have jobs to save.”

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

“It seems like a mixed bag at this point,” Jackson observed as he sipped his coffee. The cafeteria was quiet, and the atmosphere of the office had been grim all day. Nobody wanted to talk. “I think half of Sales will quit to look for other jobs in the city. The rest will just suck it up and move to Busan. It’s going to be a messy situation either way.”

“But nobody wants to go,” Youngjae pointed out.

“Of course nobody wants to go.” Jackson pressed his fingers to his temples. “Hopefully Jinyoung will find some solution. He usually works something out.”

“Is he considering quitting too?” 

“Jinyoung? No way. He’s upset because a lot of his clients are here, and he would have to start from scratch to build contacts in Busan,” Jackson explained. “But he just received a promotion. He’s due to get an enormous bonus from the company at the end of the year because of the deal he secured. The guy has made amazing progress in this company. Jinyoung would be an idiot to quit. He needs this company as much as it needs him.”

“Then why are you trusting him to fight for you?”

“I know he doesn’t give Legal an easy time, but Jinyoung is an awesome guy to have on your side. He knows how to manipulate people and he knows the CEO well,” Jackson explained. “He’ll find a solution. I just hope he does it in time. Otherwise, the transfer orders will be sent out and people will scramble. This affects all of us so we need to stick together.”

“That’s what bothers me,” Youngjae admitted. 

“What?”

“How fragmented we are. The CEO knows that half of us will stay and half will leave. We don’t have any coordination amongst ourselves. He’s probably counting on us being a mess,” Youngjae pointed out. “We would have a better chance if we presented a united front.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Think about it. The Sales department has the most skilled negotiator this company has ever seen. Legal has a brilliant lawyer that has saved this company from going through huge lawsuits multiple times because she never gives up. Don’t you think these two people should pool their skills and work together?”

“You want them to join forces?” Jackson wondered. 

“Both departments want the same thing. We might be able to come up with a better solution if they at least talked about what to do,” Youngjae insisted. 

“That would work fine if they didn’t hate each other.”

“Don’t you think they’re reasonable adults who can put aside their personal differences for the benefit of themselves and their co-workers?” 

Jackson laughed. 

“No. But maybe we can talk them into it.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not a bad negotiator myself, you know.”

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

"Youngjae wants us to come to Conference Room 9," Yugyeom told you. Your head was buried in a book on labour law judgements and you barely heard his voice. 

"Hmmm. 5 minutes."

"He says it's urgent."

"Huh?" you asked absent-mindedly. 

"Youngjae wants us to come to Conference Room 9, he has something to show us. He says it’s urgent. Are you coming?” Yugyeom repeated. The younger man was staring at you and something clicked in your brain as you finally paid attention to what his words. 

“Oh! Youngjae, right. Sorry. Did he find something useful?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go see.”

“He better not be wasting our time,” you muttered, as you closed the book and followed Yugyeom towards the conference rooms. There was no knowing when the CEO would send the transfer orders out. You wanted to be ready with a full report about how they were unsustainable in law before that. It required intensive research, and you had to juggle it with your normal work. 

“Is it this one?” Yugyeom wondered as he reached a conference room with a plaque that had the number 9 on it. He opened the door and gestured for you to enter first. Since when did Yugyeom have such manners? You walked in, but the moment your eyes adjusted to the dim light you froze. 

The entire Sales team was sitting here. 

The door closed behind you. 

“What is going on?” you demanded. Youngjae was standing in a corner and he gave you a sheepish smile that you did not return. Park Jinyoung was also present. Dressed in a classy light blue button down shirt, he leaned back in his swirly chair and gave you a bored look. 

Yugyeom nudged you towards the seat across from Jinyoung. 

“Sit down, we have something to say.”

You frowned. “About what?”

“About how we intend to fight the transfers to Busan. Jackson and Youngjae have an idea. They think that since it affects all of us equally, we should work together and make a joint representation to the CEO.”

You couldn’t believe this. They wanted to work with Sales? You couldn’t even start to list all the reasons why that was a terrible idea. You opened your mouth to protest but before you could, Jackson stood up and moved to the front of the conference room. You were pushed down into the chair by Yugyeom. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to begin my presentation,” Jackson announced grandly. 

The lights dimmed. The projector overhead flickered on, and displayed an old version of a world map, with the United Kingdom highlighted in red. 

Jackson cleared his throat. “Today, I’m going to be talking about this little country. But it wasn’t always a little country. It used to be the head of the British Empire. The largest Empire in history that lasted for over a century. This tiny little country took over at least one quarter of the world-”

You felt bewildered and furious. 

“What the fuck is going on?”

Jackson made a shushing gesture at you and your face turned red. You could hear Jinyoung chuckling. 

“But the British had a strategy. They didn’t take over these countries randomly. Their strategy was to divide and rule. Let me elaborate. They identified ethnic and religious differences between the people and divided them into smaller groups that were less powerful than the whole. Then, when the British tried to rule, the smaller groups would be too busy fighting amongst themselves to care about what the British were doing. Which is, basically stealing their land and resources and taking over the country.”

“I think we get the point,” Youngjae muttered. He had noticed the irritation on your face. “Can we wrap up now, Jackson?”

Jackson pouted. “But the best part is still- okay, fine. Basically, the only way to drive the colonial British out was for the different ethnic groups to unite and to combine their strength against their common enemy; the British Raj.”

“Right. So-” Jackson pressed a button and the screen on the projector changed. There was now a picture of the company’s organizational hierarchy. Over the CEO’s bubble had been pasted the words British Raj. “As you can see here, the analogy I’m trying to draw. The CEO is our British Raj. Sales are Legal are two different ethnic groups in the same country. The only way we can fight the British Raj is if we unite and join forces, not if we continue to fight each other. And there I end my presentation. Thank you.”

The lights flickered back on, Jackson took a pleased bow and then took a seat. 

Yugyeom looked at you. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you demanded. “I think you’re behaving like children and this is a colossal waste of time. Did you just give me a history lesson in order to teach me about teamwork? This is insane. Your jobs must be a joke to you. Unfortunately, I take my life and my work very seriously, so do me a favour and don’t invite me to your playtime sessions.”

Jackson blinked. “But-”

Jinyoung cut him off coolly. “I thought it was a very informative presentation, Jackson. 9 out of 10, although the map ideally should have highlighted all the British colonies and not just England.”

“Thanks, Jinyoung.”

You stared at them. “Unbelievable.”

Jinyoung turned in his chair to face you. His arms were folded across his chest coolly. “Let's get down to the point. Forget the British Raj. I think they've identified a problem that deserves to be addressed. That problem is, you and I keep getting in each other’s way.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s true, don’t deny it. I was in the middle of a negotiation with the CEO this morning. It was going fine until you barged in and argued with him. Calm down,” Jinyoung raised a hand to silence you as you opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I’m not trying to blame you. That’s not the point. The next time you make a representation, it’s likely that I’ll accidentally do something to mess it up. This is because we lack coordination even though we want the same thing.”

Yugyeom turned to you with big, hopeful eyes. “He’s right. Both of you doing your own thing could be disastrous. The CEO will just ignore us, because we’re a mess. But if we pool our resources together then we might be able to scare him. Can we set aside our personal feelings this once?”

You stared at them. Both Yugyeom and Youngjae were looking at you hopefully and you felt weak. You wanted to reassure them that you could save their jobs without the help of Sales, but you suddenly weren’t sure anymore. Park Jinyoung, whatever else he might be, was definitely smart.

That didn’t mean the plan would work, though. 

“Look. I’m an adult. I can set aside my personal feelings, but that’s not even the issue. Our methods are too different,” you pointed out to Jinyoung. “We’ll waste time fighting about what to do. You’ll want to negotiate nicely and persuade the CEO, while I’m prepared to show him the law and insist he follow it or face the consequences.”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “I get that. We have our differences.”

“Exactly. We’ll never agree on a strategy.”

Jinyoung suddenly looked up and his eyes gleamed. You could almost see the lightbulb ping on top of his head. 

“What if… what if our different strategies are our strategy?”

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

You were growing tired of the Sales department’s obsession with giving pointless presentations.

The lights had dimmed and the projector was back on again. This time, Park Jinyoung was standing in front of it. He had run out of the conference room suddenly after his declaration, shocking everyone. He was back in two minutes with his laptop and he hooked it up to the projector before turning to face the room with a smug smile. 

“Guess what? I have just found the one and only negotiation strategy that will work. It’s a classic, and it’s the only strategy that is based entirely on disagreement,” he explained eagerly. “I gave a seminar on this to the Sales team a couple months ago, remember?”

Jackson’s eyes widened. “Wait, do you mean-”

“Yup.” Jinyoung pressed a button and the presentation began. “The Good Cop, Bad Cop Strategy.”

You frowned and peeked at the laptop. The presentation contained 45 slides. Oh dear god. If Park Jinyoung tried to go through all of them right now then you were going to deck him in the face. You were short enough on time already. 

“How about we skip past all the analogies and the introductions and you just give us a brief summary of how this works?” you suggested through clenched teeth. You glanced at your watch. “You have my attention for… 3 minutes.”

“That’s enough,” Jinyoung promised confidently. He pressed a button to change the slide. “The Good Cop, Bad Cop strategy is simple. This strategy is rooted in the fact that the Good Cop and the Bad Cop never agree.”

“Hmm.”

“The role of the Bad Cop,” Jinyoung gestured towards you with a handsome smile and you glared at him, “is simple. Bad Cop takes an extreme stand. She threatens terrible consequences and refuses to negotiate. She basically sets the tone for a worst-case scenario. No matter what the other person says, Bad Cop refuses to show the slightest hint of mercy.”

You blinked. That sounded like you. 

“Now, we come to Good Cop,” Jinyoung gestured towards himself with a proud smile. “He’s the one who makes more reasonable demands. Good Cop is the nice guy. He pretends to be on the criminal’s side. Everything Good Cop says looks really nice and generous in contrast to what Bad Cop says. Usually criminals are so terrified by Bad Cop that they give in to whatever demands Good Cop has. But in reality, Good Cop and Bad Cop are working together. They both agree on what they want beforehand. But by splitting the roles and taking extreme stands, they can confuse the criminal.”

You took a deep breath. “So If I understand you correctly…”

“You will threaten to sue,” Jinyoung explained. His dark eyes shone with excitement. “Do what you do best. Gather all the material you can find about the company’s violations of our employment contracts, and threaten the CEO that you’re about to drown the company in a messy, ugly lawsuit.”

“That’s risky. We don’t have the resources to follow through on that. I don’t have enough money to sue the company and I’m sure none of you do either. It’ll be a bald-faced lie. The CEO might tell me to go file a lawsuit if I dare. I might have to return empty-handed.”

“You might, if I wasn’t there to diffuse the situation before he gets angry. I’ll offer the CEO a more attractive option. I’ll tell him that he doesn’t have to deal with the headache and the bad PR that will come out of a lawsuit. He can simply let us stay in this office. If the Busan transfer is an attempt at cost-cutting, like I think it is, then we’ll all voluntarily forgo our bonuses this year. We’ll find other ways to cut costs. What do you think?”

You took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Jinyoung grinned. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you admitted reluctantly. “I think this might just work. Let’s do this.”

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

[masterthespianduchovny]

Maybe this has been discussed, maybe it hasn’t, but I think what really makes S8-9 hard to digest isn’t simply Mulder’s disappearance, but most important, Scully becoming uncharacteristically trusting.

Mulder being missing is a huge thing, so his absence was going to always be felt. But, Scully and Mulder served as our ethical/moral center for 7 seasons of the show. They were the good guys, fought the food fight, and were always on the side on the little man.

One of the most noteworthy things of the show was there inherent and explicit trust in one another. Another interesting thing to note: despite mulder’s paranoia, he could trusting, where as Scully ONLY trusted Mulder.

Constantly throughout the series we literally hear her tell Mulder that she only trusts him or she makes it quite known that’s how she feels. Scully is very stingy with trust when it comes to everyone else who isn’t Mulder. Perhaps in the beginning of season one she trusted others, but even during the first season, she started increasingly distrusting. Then, once she was abducted, it was rare to see her trust a non Mulder person.

Most importantly, Scully didn’t even trust skinner. Someone who consistently had their backs. Every blue moon, he did something to protect his neck, but I don’t recall him ever flat out betraying Mulder and Scully (without plans to save them or a good reason).

When skinner is framed for murder, Scully believes that he did or it is leaning towards believing that. It is only because Mulder pushes the issue that e case is investigated. She doesn’t refer to his character, their working relationship—nothing to even entertain the idea that skinner could’ve been innocent. There is even evidence that she didn’t trust him at the end of season seven (and, hell, probably beyond).

She didn’t trust the Lone Gunmen, despite working with them on and off for years.

We know she didn’t trust Diana and Phoebe, but I don’t think it was primarily driven by jealousy. Mulder gets distracted easily and can let a sense of comraderie and loyalty influence him.

We saw him trust deep throat and Maria. Despite providing good intel, they also betrayed him as well.

Scully may defend a person’s character generally speaking, but she does not trust on a personal or professional level beyond that.

That only extends to Mulder.

So, now that this foundation has been laid, let’s look into season 8:

Doggett is sent to investigate Mulder’s disappearance and pretends to be some random officer. Tries to manipulate Scully into thinking Mulder didn’t trust her and was confiding in other people.

I mean, I get his angle, BUT Scully...Scully, that’s something she’s never going to forget. And we see how deeply his words angered her. Calm, cool, and collected Scully threw water at his face.

So, we see hints of her not trusting him when she investigated the case by herself, but then, after that case when he chastises her...she starts to trust him a little bit???

And it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Scully has less reason to trust doggett. For starters, Scully usually eviscerated anyone for talking to her like that. But, also...he was sent by Kersh. Why wouldn’t Scullys paranoia ramp up, esp because they did that with Krycek (Diana and Spencer). They’ve sent double agents to compromise the x files. Hell, even she was sent down there to debunk it.

I know doggett gave her his speech, but again, Scully doesn’t believe it trust other people. Of all of the people sent down to debunk and compromise the x files, she is the only one who stayed and believed in what she did. What makes matters worse: doggett believes the x files is horseshit. He essentially believes that it’s a waste of time.

Why would Scully have faith and trust a person like that to protect the x files on a basic level?

What incentive would doggett have to thoroughly investigate cases, find undeniable evidence, believe victims/witnesses of the supernatural kind? He doesn’t believe in this stuff at all when Scully decides to start trusting him.

Scully didn’t believe it much herself, BUT she believed in Mulder and she had a much bigger axe to grind with the FBI and the shadow people than Doggett did. I’m not exactly sure why doggett was willing to risk as much as he did.

But, circling back to scullys skepticism, she legitimately tried to validate Mulder’s work. Doggett came off as dismissive and believing the victims were crazy.

So, we see that Scully automatically doesn’t trust non Mulder people, but there is no professional reason for her to trust him either, despite him keeping her secret. And keep in mind: the stakes were higher at that time than when she was assigned to Mulder. Him protecting her secret could’ve played into a long game.

But, then...she defends him against Mulder to Mulder in private and that’s where the show loses me once and for all.

I’m not saying that Scully would never defend doggett or anyone against Mulder’s criticisms (I also think Mulder was uncharacteristically hostile), BUT Scully either would’ve been unsure or advising Mulder that they have to be careful with how he approaches doggett for a couple of reasons.

But, since Chris Carter wants us to like and trust doggett, Scully suddenly likes and trust him even tho that has never been her MO throughout the entire series. She may have been trusting in the first season to some extent, but Scully ended a friendship/connection concerning Mulder. Again, it took her almost a decade to even trust skinner despite all that they been through, yet she trusts doggett???

Her trust of Reyes was less offensive because they didn’t try so hard, but again, it’s a hard pass for Scully trusting her either.

I know they flirted with the idea of Scully trying to be Mulder for an episode, but without a doubt, she would’ve been the most paranoid person in the FBI after his abduction for a very long time. I can’t imagine her having any type of meaningful relationship while Mulder was missing, the fbi investigating it, AND possibly her. I can’t imagine her trusting anyone at all after that.

Her partner, her best friend, her lover, the father of her child, and literally the only person she trusted was fucking abducted. Scully is traumatized and scarred. She’s careful, fragile, but cautious. Terrified and unafraid at the same time.

It doesn’t connect as someone else explained, it was supposed to be Mulder and Scully against the world not Mulder, Scully, doggett, Reyes....

But, it feels as if, besides Scully not truly being her paranoid, untrusting self, they missed the baptismal by fire. Their trust was unearned based on how we know Mulder and Scully.

[dlamp-dictator]

I’ll keep an eye on this anime. If anything, it definitely looks pretty, the fight scenes have been [done] well so far, and seeing Melida be cute in full color is great. If I just get a decent action series out of this anime, I’ll be happy.

                                                                            -Allen X, October 22 2019

 Well folks, Assassins Pride wrapped up last week and I can safely say I got what I wanted. In the end, I think this was a pretty fun and passable anime to watch weekly. Decent action, decent plot, and a decently written story. Nothing was too offensive or annoying save for one or two moments in the middle, and as much as I felt the show stumbled compared to the manga and possibly the light novel I have hope that this might just get an official translate and... well, you know, do the pacing thing better.

But since I had a habit of covering this thing after every arc I figured I’d give the show some closing thoughts and an overall opinion of the thing at the end. I hope I don’t spend a 1000+ words on this, but... well... I can get pretty wordy when I get a groove, so we’ll see. 

But anyway, let’s start with...

The Good

The Visuals

Let’s not mince words folks, this anime is pretty. It might be because I’m a sucker for night aesthetic, but the one disadvantage of the black-and-white manga is that were really never got to see just how dark the world of Flandor really was. To quote myself again:

(This is a) world trapped in perpetual night with warriors of light being the only thing keeping away further darkness, along with the last bastion of humanity being a literal chandelier city in case you missed the symbolism

And nothing makes you really feel that more than that first scene of Kufa walking through the quiet streets on his way to the Angel estate, seeing not only how dark the world is from the night sky above, but also how artificial the light within it really is. The dark aesthetic really helps a lot of the other characters pop out a lot more in terms of the actual color. Mana is literally a glowing, flaming aura that lights the darkness like a candle. The two main girls in this series are a bright blonde and white-haired girl that stand out against the black night sky like the sun and stars. 

Again, symbolism.

The list goes on, but you get the idea.

The Action

Not to say this is Trigger or Madhouse or Perriot, but it is pretty nice that we get a decent action scene every arc. Something I definitely appreciate is that they show contrast between Melida’s kind nature and friendly attitude with her brutal and dirty fighting style. 

See, Melida is a kind and gentle girl that would rather not use violence save for fighting demons, but if she has to fight she’ll use every dirty trick in the book. She’ll throw sand, she feint attacks, she go into brawling when close enough, she fake being injured to make her opponent let their guard down. It’s a nice little story detail that shows you this noblewoman was, in fact, trained by a ruthless assassin that taught her to actual fight for survival instead of like a nobleman. Her taking down stronger students by doing all but outright cheat is almost hilarious to watch sometimes.

The Overall Narrative

For as fast as the pacing was I feel like I got a good idea of Melida’s story and the trials she has to endure as the “Incompetent Talented Girl”. This story focused on Melida more than Kufa, which is something I’m very thankful for. It’s always tempting to switch over the OP male MC to overpower his way through things, but to my pleasant surprise this only happened in one arc, and it was an arc that had some justification for it, though I really didn’t care it myself. Save for the third arc everything was to show Melida’s growth from a shy and bullied girl to a competent swordswoman that can even hold her own against the other heirs of the three noble houses. 

But that’s enough of the good, so now we have to talk about... 

The Bad

The Pacing

There’s no getting around this. Even if I didn’t already read bits of the manga online ahead of time the pacing for this show is still insanely fast. Even taking out the fact that this is an adapted story we’re never given enough time to absorb certain scenes. And the worse is that a lot of the arcs have a focus on intrigue and mystery. Luna Lumiere Selection Tournament Arc had two major mysteries: who was the one that changed the plaque and who is Black Madia masquerading as? They especially took care to make Mule seem like a very suspicious party only to reveal it was a third party in the very same episode. The mystery of Black Madia was done better, though by necessity as she couldn’t reveal herself until the very last moment of the arc. This was fine in the anime, but it could had used an extra episode or two of build-up between scenes. The arc at Rosetti’s hometown was a huge mystery that had Kufa under believable suspicious, and was actually done pretty well by not revealing the true culprit until the last episode of it, it also helps that Kufa was under suspicion from the first episode of it. The Library Exam Arc was... done alright, but it could had used an extra episode or two to cook and add some more tension between the Angels and the other nobles, but it was done well. 

And that’s the main issue. Every arc could had used one or two extra episodes to really set the scene. Nothing was done poorly in terms of structure and narrative, but everything could had been better had things slowed down. Despite the action this show isn’t a shounen or action genre, it’s a political drama with a combat school setting. 

This might also be just the issue of this being a 12-episode anime adapting a novel. A  novel has the advantage of progressing its plots slowly with the knowledge the reader has the entire book to finish either that arc or at least most of it. If that reader skips around because they’re bored that says more about them than the author. With an anime or television show you don’t have that luxury, you only have a few episodes at best to keep a viewers attention, especially for something like the seasonal anime lineup where you have to keep audience retention every week and your competition is the other 50+ anime out there that might possibly be more interesting. I pity whatever decent anime has to contend with the newest My Hero Academia season along with everything else. 

I understand the need to want to just show off the cool bits to keep audience attention, but it came at the cost of the narrative. Even if this thing still holds together well it could hold together much better if they only focused on the first two arcs of this series instead of trying to shove in four, but alas... 

In any case...

Other Smaller Issues that Bugged Allen

Really, the pacing was the biggest issue in this anime, but I do have my fair share of gripes and nitpicks too. I’ll keep this in list form for the sake of simplicity.

Kufa having access to potions/medicines that can not only kick-start a mana-less person into having it, but one that can also turn half-Lyncrophyes back to humans opens up quite a few plotholes and issues. I’m sure the light novel and manga explain their existence better, probably something to the effect of them being extremely experimental and a deadly risk, but the anime doesn’t explain that and it can take you out of the story if you care about the world-building.

I feel like side characters like Nerva, Mule, and Salacha were suppose to get more screentime, or at least more development, but just didn’t due to the pacing and runtime. You get the basic idea of everyone, but it feels like the show wanted to do more with them, or at least that the source material probably did more with them.

The occasional moments fanservice don’t work too well in this series. It’s nothing to the level of Senran Kagura or Ikkitousen, but when your cast consist of mostly middle school aged girls the most fanservice that should be seen is a beach episode or a sleepover episode. And while this anime did have a sleepover episode it still also took time to put some of this girls in... compromising positions. My general rule of fanservice is that high school age characters doesn’t really count due to the wonky-ness of hormones act and how most media east and west tends to treat high school characters anyway, but middle school kids... yeah no. That’s just my morals, but it’s still a detractor from the anime.

The third arc kind of felt pointless since it tried to focus on Kufa’s relationship with Rosetti. I didn’t really need to know about Kufa’s past, and connecting it to Rosetti just... doesn’t feel right given how he dismissive treated her in the first arc. Making Rose a half-vampire was also pretty pointless to me. It feels like they were trying to give Kufa a harem when this show is mostly focused on Melida, and the most interesting part about his past is a mix of his life in the dark zone of the world and his past as an assassin, not his relationships with his apparent adoptive sister. It just felt... really focused and a waste of time. They could had cut out this arc, gave each other arc an extra episode to build up some things and be none the weaker for it.

The Dub

The nice thing about VRV is that I can see the HiDive dubcast along with the show. I only watched a handful of episodes, but here are my general throughts for those curious. Overall, the dub is fine, but like most HiDive Dubcasts it feels... off. Not bad, but it feels like they needed to be 4 or 6 weeks off the original release instead of 2 or 3 to get the director in the right place. I feel like most of the issues with this dub come from the direction and scripting rather than the actual voice-acting. But just to keep this short.

Kufa sounds too flat. This was a pretty common dubbing issue back in the early 2000s when trying to translate/localize a stoic, serious character. The director is probably trying to make the actor emulate the original Japanese voice acting and Kufa just sounds too flat and bored at times because of it. Most character like this tend to be given a more deadpan and sarcastic edge to them in English to make the have a little more emotion. In Japanese that flat tone is meant imply stoicism, resolve, and masculinity. In English... that’s just sounding flat and bored. Again, most characters like this are usually given a different kind of tone to keep them from sounding bored. For Kufa I’d say a more strict and stern tone of voice would help given he’s an instructor, almost like a even-toned drill sergeant issuing orders. He does sound like that from time to time when actually instructing, but I wish he kept that persona. Though that’s just my take.

Nerva and Rosetti... just don’t hit it for me. I don’t mind the difference in tone, but the script doesn’t lend itself to it. Rosetti’s actor makes her sounds much more like an adult in English, but her actual lines are still childish, which makes her come off as a little... cringe. Same with Nerva, but I’m willing to overlook it since she’s more of a side character anyway. Mule actually sounds pretty good in this regard. Her tone sounds less like a middle schooler and more like a young college woman, but since a lot of her actual lines has an air of condescending smugness it works out, though her actor sounds like she’s reading the script and not acting from it.

The scripting in general seemed to really want to follow the subbed version and it falls flat because of it. When I read the subtitles that take the world, systems, and general wackiness of this subpar anime so seriously it’s fine. But to actually hear it in  a language I understand... it kinda’ shows how lacking the series is. I’m not saying they should had added jokes or anything, but it feels like they could had made the dialogue a bit more casual than it was in the subs so that the lines flowed a little better. HiDive dubs, their dubcasts especially, tend to feel like a product of the early 2000s rather than something current.

Thoughts and Recommendations

Overall I do recommend this series as a decent action show with some nice colors to it and a killer OP and ED, but there's a lot better I could recommend too that does everything this anime does but better. 

So... here are a recommendations I have if Assassins Pride didn’t really click with you as much as you hoped.

A bit of an odd recommendation, but I’ll stick up Goblin Slayer first. This anime is actually a lot like Assassins Pride, being a character-focused story with decent side characters and does a lot of its world-building in the background. However,  it does its arcs far better than Assassins Pride since they aren’t intrigue-based and the cast is solving much simpler problems in the grand scheme of things. It’s also an anime based off a light novel just to add to the similarities, and said anime also has four arcs to it. I will say this is a series that’s not for the faint of heart, and I almost recommend skipping episode 1 if you’re of a weaker constitution if you plan on watching this one.

Next up would be Chivalry of a Failed Knight. It does the combat school aspect of Assassins Pride much better, taking some strides to show that each of its students are, in fact, warriors capable of harming and killing others and going to a school to hone those skills. And if you that Melida was a ruthless fighter Ikki probably takes it a step further. And this is also another light novel adaptation, though the manga did technically finish its updates online if you’re curious. A side recommendation to this one would be Armed Girl's Machiavellism.

My last recommendation will be Katana Maidens. This is another combat school anime that I feel is honestly average, but it’s an anime-original series that has 24 episodes behind it, and quite a few decent action scenes. I recommend this one more to action junkies as I feel the story really starts to drag in the second half, but an overall decent series that does do itself world-building a little better than Assassins Pride, or at least I’m not asking as many questions at the end of it.

And those are my thoughts on Assassins Pride. Now I have a Rambling on video games to work on, so I’ll see you all later.

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

Daenerys - the “Mad Queen”?

I understand why some are frustrated with the pedalling of Daenerys as the “Mad Queen” in The Last of the Starks (8x04). Personally, I saw signs of this arc developing a long time ago (as did many others), but this episode seemed to hammer it more intensely than ever before despite it probably being the most emotionally vulnerable we’ve seen her in a long time. 

I don’t have a problem with Daenerys’ arc taking a dark turn, I think it’s fitting and interesting for her character, but I do have an issue with the way in which the narrative is framing her “madness” (I don’t approve of the word “mad” to refer to Dany, because I think it’s derogatory and unfair, hence the quotation marks). So let’s boil this down to the main points shall we: 

Daenerys is not the “Mad Queen” for wanting to be queen of the Seven Kingdoms

Daenerys is not the “Mad Queen” for smiling in 8x01 when her dragons flew overhead the northerners 

Daenerys is not the “Mad Queen” for being concerned about Jon’s claim to the Iron Throne 

Daenerys is not the “Mad Queen” for being pissed off at Sansa’s behaviour towards her 

Daenerys is not the “Mad Queen” for wanting revenge on Cersei for breaking her promise to march her armies north to fight in the Great War and murdering Rhaegal and Missandei 

Daenerys is not the “Mad Queen” period 

She’s a young woman who displays human emotions - loneliness, doubt, insecurity, anger, hurt, annoyance, arrogance, love, grief, vengeance, ambition - and is inherently flawed. She makes mistakes and at times her judgement is clouded by her tunnel vision, but she is not a bad person and certainly not “mad”. However, she does have certain qualities that are problematic and that suggest she may not be completely fit to be queen. 

Note: This is a critical analysis of Daenerys that seeks to uncover the complexities of her character. It defends her, but there are also parts that criticise her. Therefore, hardcore Dany stans may not like to read. Just thought I’d give that heads up. 

We heard a lot of characters in the 8x04 - Tyrion, Varys, Arya and Sansa - question Daenerys’ ability to be queen (and not for the first time) and their doubts are valid. On numerous occasions this season we’ve seen Dany act in ways that lean more towards tyranny than fairness and impulsiveness than logic. She exercises kindness to those around her until they question her or say something she dislikes, and suddenly her whole demeanour changes. We’ve seen this in scenes she’s shared with Sansa, Jon and Tyrion. Her decision to legitimise Gendry was unexpected and although on the surface was a kindness to him, it was rash decision that made everybody uncomfortable and anxious. Increasingly, she seems unable to hear criticisms or acknowledge the advice of others. Her relationship with Tyrion has been tense for a while now because of his “mistakes” (forgive me if my memory is just foggy, but I genuinely can’t recall any advice Tyrion has given her that’s had disastrous consequences). She also flat out dismissed Varys when he looked her in the eye and told her he believed she was making a mistake by going to Kings Landing. When Sansa rightfully pointed out that their men needed time to recuperate following the Battle of Winterfell, Daenerys was visibly annoyed. The problem with this is that not only does it show her rejecting perfectly reasonable and sound advice, but it also suggests that she has little consideration for the well-being of her own armies or consideration for the bigger picture. Little details like this are often subtle, but all contribute to the idea that Daenerys may not be an ideal queen for the Seven Kingdoms. Furthermore, although the northerners have been defined as stubborn and hardened loyalists to House Stark, her inability to develop any kind of positive relationship with anyone in Winterfell (even Sansa and Arya, who are Jon’s sisters) is alarming. A queen doesn’t have to be liked or loved by all, that’s an impossibility, but an ability to forge alliances and connections, even with those that may not like you, is crucial. Dany said it herself in her conversation with Jon, “ I saw the way they looked at you. I know that look. So many people have looked at me that way, but never here. Never on this side of the sea.” Isn’t it alarming to Daenerys that she wants to rule a land where the people reject her and are so cold towards her? 

What has become clear to me so far in season 8 is that Dany has become so fixated on her goal of sitting on the Iron Throne that she’s lost sight of everything else. She gracefully agreed to put her quest for the Iron Throne on hold to fight alongside the north in the battle against the dead at great personal cost, but the way she’s framing her involvement in the war doesn’t make sense. She admitted that she agreed to fight because she loves Jon and has referred to it as being “his war”. This is problematic because unlike her battle against Cersei for the Throne which is 100% led by personal gain and desire, the war against the dead was much bigger than that. It was to save humanity, to quite literally save the world. The two wars are hardly comparable. As a queen, Daenerys should be willing to lay down her life to protect the realm, irregardless of love and should not be viewing her participation in the Great War as part of an alliance whereby the north now owes her a favour. If she hadn’t of fought in that war, it would’ve been lost and as Jon said in 7x03 her being queen of the Seven Kingdoms wouldn’t have mattered because she would have been ruling over a graveyard. 

We also see her fixation on the Throne in her relationship with Jon. Despite claiming that she travelled north because she loves Jon, the second she found out he was a Targaryen that love seemed to pale in comparison to her desire for the Iron Throne. So far the interactions we’ve seen between Jon and Dany about his parentage are about Dany’s the threat Jon’s claim to the Throne poses to her. She’s shown no compassion or empathy towards Jon, given no consideration how such a huge revelation has completely turned Jon’s world upside down. All she wants is for him to keep his mouth shut so that she can be queen and continue her romantic relationship with him as before. What was most striking to me in the scene between them in 8x04 was the way Dany quite literally begged Jon to stay quiet. It’s rare that we get to see Dany plead like that and it really hit home how desperate she is to sit on the Throne. What she said about Jon telling others the truth about his parentage destroying them may be true, but it doesn’t change the fact that this was her threatening him; the man she supposedly loves. Now, I don’t begrudge Daenerys for this. It’s understandable that after working so long towards that one goal that she’d be hurt and afraid about the consequences that Jon’s claim could bring. But what it does show is that in some ways her ambition has grown out of control and she’s become fixated on that one goal at the detriment of everything else, including her relationship with Jon. And this fixation, this obsession with the Throne is what I see as being the root of Daenerys’ dark arc, along with her power and dragons, which I’ll discuss more in-depth later.

Psychologically speaking it makes sense that Dany would become so overbearingly consumed by her desire for the Throne, particularly now after everything she’s lost. I can’t blame her for being so determined and ruthless to be queen. She’s put so much blood, sweat and tears into the fight and if she doesn’t achieve what she’s worked so long and so hard to achieve it will mean that all she’s dedicated and lost will have been in vein. As I said above, I do believe Daenerys’ fixation on the Throne is the core of her dark arc, but I still don’t think that she’s becoming the “Mad Queen” or that she’s becoming an antagonist. It frustrates me that most of the posts I read about Dany fall onto one or two sides - either they exaggerate her goodness or exaggerate her badness. Even with the dark arc D&D seem to be pursuing with her, Daenerys is not and never has been morally white or black, she’s grey. And yes, show!Dany may be significantly watered down in comparison to her book counterpart, but there is still complexity to her if you choose to see it. Even in 8x04, despite the narrative clearly pushing her to a darker place, in many ways it’s the most human we’ve ever seen her. People choose to focus on the scenes that pedal Dark!Dany and disregard the rest, but even when D&D are clearly pushing Dark!Dany to the forefront, she is still incredibly human. Throughout the 8x04 we saw her grieve for Jorah, in the Great Hall she experienced loneliness and isolation as she looked around at the smiling faces of strangers and the man she loved and realised she was an outsider, in her scene with Jon she showed vulnerability and fear as she begged him to fix everything, when Rhaegal was killed she showed rage and restraint and when Missandei was executed, her emotional response is what anybody else would feel in that scenario. Like I said, Daenerys’ emotional responses are not the problem and I hate that the narrative is insinuating that those reactions somehow make her the “Mad Queen”. The final shot of Daenerys showed her fury and hunger for vengeance after witnessing her best friend being beheaded. That does not make her the “Mad Queen”, and I know for many when they refer to her as being that they may not literally mean it and are just using it because it’s what her father was called, but I still don’t approve of it, because I think it undermines Dany’s complexity. Generally, I think there needs to be more acknowledgement of the complexities of Dany’s character and the breadth of emotions we’ve seen from her so far in season 8.

Just as it’s unfair to label Dany the “Mad Queen” and it’s also unfair to label her a tyrant based on some of her actions. Joffrey was a tyrant and we all know that Dany is not Joffrey. Dany will never be the kind of person that takes pleasure in psychologically manipulating or brutalising others like Joffrey did. She enjoys power, but she’s not so consumed by that power that she’s unable to show understanding and empathy to others. From my perspective, the concern that Varys and Tyrion have when it comes to Daenerys is not that she’ll become her father, but that she’s too powerful or that she will become too powerful if she sits on the Iron Throne. I’ve seen some claim that painting Daenerys as the “Mad Queen” is sexist because it implies women cannot wield power without it corrupting them. Part of me agrees with this, but I’d also argue that it’s less to do with sexism and more to do with the general theme of power and what having too much power can do to an individual. It’s a common theme in literature, film and television (Macbeth and Walter White in Breaking Bad are two examples that come immediately to mind). It’s a common and over-used trope, but it’s supported by psychological research - power does change people - and it can be applied to Daenerys. Here’s a excerpt from an article I read about the impact power can have on people: “Power reduces awareness of constraints and causes people act more quickly. Powerful people also tend to think more abstractly, favoring the bigger picture over smaller consequences. Powerful people are less likely to remember the constraints to a goal” (x). Dany has been demonstrating these traits for a prolonged period of time and they’ve become more prominent in season 7 and 8. Her decision to go to Kings Landing was rash and more time needed to be taken to develop a proper battle plan and for the men and women fighting to regain their strength. She’s so fixated on the big picture - sitting on the Iron Throne - that she’s neglecting the smaller details. She’s not considering what happens after she sits on the Throne and a particular conversation she had with Tyrion in 7x06 highlighted this: 

Tyrion: You say you can't have children, but there are other ways of choosing a successor. The Night's Watch has one method. The Ironborn, for all their many flaws, have another. 

Daenerys: We will discuss the succession after I wear the crown. 

Tyrion: Your Grace, I saw hundreds of arrows fly towards you when you fought on the Blackwater Rush, and I saw hundreds of arrows miss. But any one of them could have found your heart and ended your... 

Daenerys: You've been thinking about my death quite a bit, haven't you? Is this one of the items you discussed with your brother in King's Landing? 

Tyrion: I'm trying to serve you by planning for the long term. 

Daenerys: Perhaps if you planned for the short term, we wouldn't have lost Dorne and Highgarden. We will discuss the succession after I wear the crown.

Here we see Tyrion bringing up a perfectly valid issue of her succession. Daenerys is the only living Targaryen (or so they believe she is at this point), she’s unmarried and she’s unable to conceive children naturally. Despite being young Daenerys could die or be killed at any point, particularly since she’s about to go to war, and without planning for who comes after her, her rule will mean little to nothing. She has spoken about creating a new world, but that means nothing if you don’t have the right person to continue her legacy. Yet because she’s so fixated on sitting on the Throne, she refuses to acknowledge that it’s an issue that impacts the future of her kingdom. 

Whether you like Daenerys or not, there’s no denying that the power she has developed over the seasons has changed her perspective on things and led her down a slightly darker path. This is only natural when we consider that at the beginning of the series she came from a position powerlessness. She was controlled and abused by Viserys, sold to Drogo against her will and slowly but surely her influence and power increased as she embraced her position as Khaleesi and birthed her dragons. It makes sense that she would embrace her new found power and seek more, but as the seasons progressed we’ve seen that Daenerys doesn’t just have power, she actively revels in having power. Being a leader and having so much power has led her to become more assertive and domineering. These are good qualities for queen since it’s important to be decisive, but at times those qualities have led to her behaving questionably. I know many defend Daenerys’ burning of the Tarly’s, and I think it would be hypocritical to claim Daenerys was wrong for doing it considering other characters have executed people. However, there’s no denying that that scene was purposefully written to show the subtle ways in which power had begun to corrupt her.  Instead of listening to the reasonable advice of her Hand, she chose to burn two men alive because she could and later justified it by claiming it’s what all monarchs do in times of war and that it was necessary. The problem with this is that Daenerys has explicitly stated she doesn’t want to be like those monarchs, she wants to be better. Whether she was justified in her actions or not, that execution, the way it was framed and the context of it, was done in a way that was supposed to make us doubt her judgement. It wasn’t just her removing those that refused to kneel to her, it was a deliberate exercise of power. There were other options that Tyrion pointed out - imprisonment or sending them to the Wall - and even if she ultimately decided to execute them, she didn’t have to burn them. It was a brutal and inhumane method of execution that she chose because she wanted to assert her power. The look of satisfaction on her face when the rest of the soldiers got to their knees out of fear, only feeds into the idea that her motivations went beyond the practicalities of war. Another quote from the article above explains this succinctly: “People with power not only take what they want because they can do so unpunished, but also because they intuitively feel they are entitled to do so.” Daenerys had her reasons for executing the Tarly’s, but she also did it because she felt that was her right as a queen and because ultimately, she knew there would be no repercussions. Even when she faced Sam in 8x01, she still didn’t really have to face the consequences of what she’d done. Her position of authority as a queen meant that Sam couldn’t question her or show his anger, he had to submit and conceal his grief. 

In addition to power, the other key aspect of Daenerys’ dark arc is her dragons and what they symbolise. A particular conversation between Tyrion and Varys in 8x04 summarised this perfectly: 

Varys: I've served tyrants most of my life. They all talk about destiny. 

Tyrion: She's a girl who walked into a fire with three stones and walked out with three dragons. How could she not believe in destiny?

Varys: Perhaps that's the problem. Her life has convinced her that she was sent here to save us all.

In season 1, for all intents and purposes, Daenerys was an ordinary young girl that was forced into awful situations and tried to make the best of them in any way she could. When Drogo died and the dragons were born at the end of season 1, her character arc entered a new phase. She was no longer simply a girl, she was the Mother of Dragons and that made her special and powerful. There’s been continuous emphasis on how special Daenerys is because she brought dragons back into the world and birthed a miracle. Three particular quotes from season 7 summarise this: 

I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any gods, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will.

I never thought that dragons would exist again. No one did. The people who follow you know that you made something impossible happen. Maybe that helps them believe that you can make other impossible things happen. Build a world that's different from the shit one they've always known.

A dragon is not a slave. They were terrifying. Extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe, and we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small. And we grew small as well. We weren't extraordinary without them. We were just like everyone else.

Like Varys said, Daenerys (and many others) believes she’s special because of her dragons. She said it herself, they make her extraordinary. The problem with this is that Daenerys is not special and the fact that she believes she is has not only given her a superiority complex but also distorted her perception of reality. And this isn’t an attack on Dany, because the point is that it’s not just that Dany isn’t special, it’s that nobody is special. People can be special in the eyes of others. For example, a parent looks at their child and believes they’re special or a person looks at their partner and believes they’re special. But that special-ness is rooted in what that person means to the person who regards them as special. In the wider world and the big picture, no one is special. We’re all the same. Some people have more power than others, like Daenerys; some have greater achievements than others, like Daenerys; some cause spectacular things to happen which some may regard as miracles, like Daenerys, but the fact remains the same she is not special. The fact that she believes herself that she’s special is very concerning, because that leads her to the belief that she’s different and that she can do stuff others can’t. Being special implies being an exception and allows someone to justify their immoral or illegal actions through the fact that they’re special. When you combine Daenerys’ belief that she’s special with the influence and power she has, it becomes even more problematic because she has the agency and licence to do pretty much whatever she likes and she can justify it because she’s special and because she’s a queen.

What’s most interesting about this is that 8x03 deliberately stripped Dany of her dragons and put her in a vulnerable position. She fell off Drogon and found herself in the middle of the battlefield alone and yet she showed great courage, picked up a sword and fought for her life alongside Jorah. Rhaegal also died in 8x04, which further stripped her of a large source of what she regards her power and special-ness. This demonstrates the complexity of Dany’s character. Narratively she’s constructed as a character that’s powerful and special, yet there are moments when that’s taken away and we see her show resilience and strength that comes from within her rather than from her external power e.g. her dragons and armies. Whilst I’m on this subject, I should say that I thought that Dany’s actions in 8x03 completely undermined the idea of “dark!Dany”, which is probably why 8x04 seemed like such a slap in the face to Dany stans. In 8x03 she was a warrior that showed bravery, courage and strength. It’s probably one of the first times that I felt like Dany wasn’t framed as being above everybody else. She was in that battle just as much as every other soldier and despite having Drogon, she wasn’t invincible as we saw from her fall from Drogon and she wasn’t immune from loss, as we saw with Jorah’s death. As someone that has been back and fourth about Dany’s character over the seasons, particularly given the way the D&D started implementing “dark!Dany” in season 7, this episode made me see again that she’s a deserving and capable queen. 

The point of this whole post is to show how unfair it is to blackwash Dany and claim she’s wholly bad, because she has proved more than once that she’s capable of kindness, compassion, empathy and love. But on the other hand, it’s unfair to whitewash her and claim she’s wholly good because she has characteristics that are problematic. As I said at the very start of this, she’s not a bad person, but she is flawed. Therefore, it makes sense that she would take a path that we may consider “dark”. She’s endured so much throughout the seasons and it’s changed her, in positive and negative ways. Just like every other character on the show, the place she’s going to end is going to be very far from where she began. It would be naive to assume that she was going to remain the exact same person she always was or that her “special-ness” and power wouldn’t have repercussions. Her traumas and losses have hardened her; her dragons have made her believe she’s special and has a destiny that has detached her from reality; her victories and achievements have instilled her with a superiority complex and her position as a queen has made her self-assured in her decisions. She has absolute faith in herself and the betrayals she’s experienced mean that the only person she trusts completely is herself. Dany has tried to play fair multiple times - she’s put her quest for the Iron Throne on hold to fight the Great War, she’s given Cersei numerous chances to surrender, and each time it’s only resulted in more losses for her. It’s not hard to understand why her experiences would take her down the path she is currently treading. When someone has as much power as Dany has and has only had negative consequences for not acting on that power, why wouldn’t she then use it to get what she wants? Dany’s experiences of trying to be diplomatic and work in collaboration with others have rarely been successful. So far she’s lost Viserion, Rhaegal, Jorah, Missandei, Jon and there’s now a very real threat to her claim to the Throne, the one thing she’s been working towards for 8 seasons. All that she’s lost has only impassioned her to want the Throne more than ever before. Like Weiss said in Inside the Episode for 8x04: 

“Emotionally, she’s alone in the world and she can’t really trust anybody. Unlike then, she’s extremely powerful and unlike then she’s filled with a rage that’s aimed at one person specifically [Cersei].” 

She’s also realised after 8x04 that ruthlessness is the only way to get what she wants, particularly when facing off against Cersei. It’s clear that Cersei will never relent and that she doesn’t care about what destruction she has to cause to remain queen. The only way to meet such hatred and ruthlessness is to meet it with equal hatred and ruthlessness. It’s not about the “Mad Queen” or even “Dark!Dany”, it’s about Daenerys, the woman, who has suffered devastating losses and injustices using the power she has to fight back and take what she believes is rightfully hers with Fire and Blood. That does not make her a “Mad Queen”, that makes her human.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Hero Trap

The following is a short story I wrote in response to a prompt idea sent to me by @sockknitteranon regarding twisting the typical “choose between the your girlfriend and random innocent civilian” scenario in super hero stories. Thank you for the suggestion! I really really hope you like what I wrote for it! 

The plan was perfect.

One of the most well-known, feared super villains in the city waited patiently for his adversary to arrive. Every piece of his elaborate trap was in place. All that was left was for the hero to show up.

“Why did you lure me here, fiend? I will protect the city from your evil plots!” The Hero’s voice was proud and sure, carrying well across the large trap chamber. 

The Villain smiled. Now he had the Hero right where he wanted him. He cracked his knuckles and stretched, chuckling grimly to himself. This was his favorite part. 

“Now.”

Quiet, barely over a whisper, the Villain’s voice somehow seemed louder than the Hero’s brazen shout.  At his command the barred door slammed shut, sealing the Hero in the trap chamber, and with a reluctant flicker, floodlights turned on, revealing the true nature of the Hero’s predicament.

“You see, Hero, I’ve been expecting you.” The Villain gestured grandly to the center of the large room where two struggling figures hung suspended in metal cages. Below the cages sat a vat of toxic sludge, its luminescent green contents slowly melting the solid iron container that held it. Even from the distance he stood it was hard to look at, but it fulfilled its role of appearing sinister, as well as a credible threat to the lives of the people hanging above it.

“You claim to have such wonderful morals, but forgive me sir, if I feel the need to put them to the test.” The Villain mocked his adversary with a sarcastic bow, before turning back to look at the cages above.

“In cage number one we have the beautiful love of your life, Ms Clarice Whitling. A renowned scientist with a heart of gold and the looks of a supermodel.” The woman in question struggled against the bonds holding her hands and feet, and tried to shout something past the gag bound across her mouth. “Now, now, patience Ms. Whitling. You will get your turn to talk… depending on lover boy’s decision.”

“YOU HEARTLESS SCOUNDREL!” The Hero’s face was red with anger, “SHE BELONGS TO ME!”

The Villain raised an eyebrow at the choice of words and smiled as he heard a dissatisfied jumble of noises from the first cage. “I’ll let you work out your relationship issues with your partner in your own time, Hero. I still have to tell you about cage #2!”

The figure in the second cage was quiet, although she still tugged against her bonds like the first captive. Her eyes though told a different story. A piercing gaze, struck him, and for a brief moment he felt a pang of regret before continuing the introduction.

“Our second contestant is an innocent civilian, Ms…” He checked the card his henchman had handed him, “Erica Slade. She’s a plucky young woman who devotes her time to charity, helps the homeless and the elderly, and works as a kindergarten school teacher.” He winced, feeling slightly remorseful at her capture.

“And that is where the true dilemma comes in, Hero. You can only save one. The woman you love, but keep in mind that she’s the one who chose to enter into a relationship with you knowing you were a hero, knowing that it put her at risk for attacks like this.”

“BAST…”  

“Or…” The Villain interrupted the Hero mid-profanity, “You can save this stranger, a young, innocent woman who has nothing to do with all of this. She is the very representation of what you swore to protect.” The Villain walked closer, now only a few feet away. “What will you do, Hero? Will you be selfish and protect your own interests? Will you throw away the woman you love to uphold your ideals?” He pressed a button, and both cages moved slowly down towards the glowing green vat.

The Villain studied his opponent’s face carefully. Now was the crucial moment of the plan. He had to convince the Hero that both women were in mortal danger, thus pushing the love vs duty choice upon him.  In reality, cages were wired to drop just to the side of the vat at the last moment, neither would be harmed, but by then hopefully the damage would be done. The Hero would be trapped in a mental and moral puzzle of his own making, unable to save either. He would be destroyed as a hero.

The Hero stared blankly at the moving cages, his face strangely blank of emotion. The Villain was glad that he was the one in control, if it were him standing there, having to choose between two innocent peoples lives… well it was impossible, it made him grateful that he was the villain in the room.

“Let the freak die.” 

The flat, short statement sounded wrong, it took the Villain a moment to register the words. He paused the cages descent,  staring at the Hero in confusion.

“What did you say?”

“I said let that cripple die.” He pointed up at the second cage impatiently. The Villain followed the direction he indicated, studying his captive more carefully. Her hands were bound, but the rope was tied around her thighs, instead of her ankles. When he looked closer he noted it was because her left leg ended just above the knee. She leaned against the wall for support, uncomfortable. Two metal structures leaned against the side of the cage. Forearm crutches. He noted with a sigh.

The Hero wasn’t done talking. “People like that are just a drain on resources anyways. They are worthless, taking handouts from healthy people and not contributing anything to society.” His voice was dismissive, he looked up at the woman like she was something less than human. “Better off dead, if you ask me. So return my beautiful girlfriend, kill the trash and I’ll be on my way.”

The Villain looked up at Ms. Slade again, his ears ringing strangely and his vision blurry. He could still make out her face, at the last thing he remembered before everything went dark was the expression there, clear despite the gag covering her mouth: It wasn’t anger at the Hero’s betrayal, or fear for her own death. It was a tired resignation. It was the look of a woman who had expected to be told she was worthless.

He was ten, living at an underfunded orphanage for cast offs like him. The other kids beat up on Jack, his friend, because he has trouble saying words clearly. They ignore the girl who looks different than them; steal things from the child that walks with a cane. They laugh and make faces at the little boy who shares his room, who couldn’t see. All of this was done under the watchful and approving eyes of the adults, as they snickered behind their hands and pretended there was nothing they could do. The powerful grew more powerful and the weak and different shrunk and became resigned. That was when he learned the only lesson they bothered to teach at this facility:

Never trust the authorities.

He was a foolish man, an evil man sometimes. He made no excuses for his behavior, he knew what he was. But the ones who pretended to be heroes, the ones who said they cared about everyone when all they saw were people who looked and spoke like them… they were even more horrible in his eyes.

The Villain came to, realizing that he had jumped on top of the Hero, punching him repeatedly in the face. There was anger and frustration behind each attack, adding weight to his fist. But there was something else, some dark hidden sadness bubbling behind the fiery anger. Tears streamed down his face as he slowly got up, leaving the hero broken and bloody on the floor.

“The only trash I see here is you.” He took his remote out, pushing several buttons, which lowered the cages to the ground. His minions got to work releasing Ms. Whitling, while he quickly moved forward to cut the ropes holding Ms. Slade hostage. He freed her, and handed her crutches to her silently.

“I’m sorry.” 

SLAP! Her hand cracked across his face with a loud noise. She sighed loudly, glaring up at him.

“That’s for kidnapping me and threatening to drop me in toxic waste, idiot!”

The Villain nodded slowly, he supposed he deserved that much.  To his surprise she leaned forward gave him a quick kiss on the cheek she just slapped. “And that’s for beating the crap out of that jerk over there.”

She moved passed him, leaving him staring off silently at the now empty cage, shocked.

“Clarice!” The hero’s voice sounded odd with his bloody nose and broken jaw, but he called out to his girlfriend as clearly as he could. The woman in question quickly walked up, her red heels clicking on the floor beneath her.

STOMP! The Hero screeched at clutched at his crotch, where Ms. Whitling had just ground the heel of her shoe into.

“We’re breaking up, you worthless scum.” She glared at him for a few extra moments, before marching towards her fellow captive. “Erica, was it? So sorry that he spoke to you like that, please ignore him.”

Ms. Slade smiled and waved an arm. “ Oh believe me, he’s ignored.”

“Great! Let’s go get coffee.” They moved together towards the door, and once they reached the locked metal gate turned to face me.

“Unless you want to continue to detain us?” The Villain shuddered at Ms. Whitling’s cheerful voice, wincing at the thought of facing any more of either woman’s wrath. He pressed the button, which opened the gate.

“I thought so.” They started to leave.

“Wait…” he called out without thinking. With both of them staring again he started to stutter. “I mean… I’m sorry I kidnapped you two… um… if you guys ever need any help, just let me know.”

Ms. Slade laughed. “You want to join us for coffee?”

He stared at her in shock. “Really?! Can I ? I...I would be honored.”

With that the three of them headed out to drink coffee. The Villain wasn’t sure what to expect from here on out, but no matter what, it was sure to be interesting.

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part Four, Chapter Two

Part One: One | Two | Three | Four Part Two: One | Two | Three | Four | Five Part Three: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Part Four: One

NOVEMBER 1863 CULPEPER, VIRGINIA

Dana Scully has never been good at staying still.

Her parents have always told stories- her father fondly, and her mother with an air of patient exasperation- of how, even as a baby, little Dana had always been into everything, crawling early, walking early, and climbing early, leaving her parents and her older siblings to chase her all over the house. To hear Maggie Scully tell it, Dana had been very lucky to live long enough to see her first birthday.

As a child, she had had no patience whatsoever for her mother's endless embroidery lessons, preferring instead to sneak off to ride her father's horses, to trail through the alleyways of the town after her brothers, and later, once her father had finally broken down and agreed to teach her to shoot, to go hunting in the woods. Her mother had never approved of these expeditions, at least not explicitly, but since Dana had been a far better shot than either of her brothers (and even her father), Maggie had never minded the extra meat her daughter had brought to the dinner table. Feeding six people could be an expensive endeavor.

As she had gotten older, the only thing that seemed to be able to keep Dana Scully seated in one place for any length of time had been her studies. A devoted and conscientious student, she had far outpaced the lessons set for her by the local school, and her father, concerned that his youngest would not be challenged enough, had engaged a private tutor to take over her education. Her mother had balked at the idea, worried that the expense would be an extravagance (and quite possibly wasted on a girl), but William Scully had insisted. He had, himself, had great scholastic aptitude in his youth, and while his own parents had not had the means to help him reach his full potential, he had been determined that his daughter would be allowed to reach hers.

But still, in between her lessons, teenaged Scully had had very little patience for the quiet and ladylike endeavors her mother had tried to plan for her. And now, with only a year left in her teens, her abhorrence for inactivity persists. The army, with its daily drilling and frequent long-distance marches, had been ideal for her... but now, stuck lying in bed day after day, she's in a pitiable state.

During the first two weeks, Melissa brings her nearly every book in the house that she can find. Scully is dismayed to find that she has already read nearly every volume housed in Samantha Mulder's shelves, and has read at least half of her brother's. Bill Mulder's library is mostly comprised of ponderous religious tomes of dubious modern relevancy, and technical books on farming methods. Even less helpful is Teena Mulder's tiny collection of etiquette and outdated child-rearing manuals (though Teena has, to Scully's surprise, fairly recent editions of Charles Knowlton's Fruits of Philosophy and Robert Dale Owen's Moral Physiology, both of which she reads cover-to-cover with decidedly more than a theoretical interest). By the beginning of November, Scully has read everything on offer and is driving Melissa up the wall with her continuous requests for her sister to please let her out of bed before she expires from boredom.

"The more you rest now, the sooner you'll be able to go back to your regiment," Missy tells her, repeatedly, but as much as Scully knows her sister is right, it doesn't make her forced inactivity any easier to bear. She writes letter after letter to Mulder, often so many that the postman takes multiple letters from her on the same day. He writes back as often as he can, but as the regiment continues to move from place to place in Virginia, his responses are less frequent than she would like.

His letters are, however, overflowing with affection for her in ways that leave little doubt in her mind about where they stand with one another. She might have been hesitant when she had told her sister that she thought they'd agreed to become engaged, but Mulder has put her questions to rest once and for all.

"When this war is over," he writes, "I want to ride to Harrisburg with you, to meet your parents. Not just to tell them about your bravery, about how indispensable you have been to me as a lieutenant, but to make sure that they- and any other potential suitors- know that our future together has been decided. Whatever your mother and father might think of the manner in which we met and fell in love, I want to be sure that they know how proud I am to have a woman like you by my side."

Scully, for her part, is less concerned with her own parents' responses than with Mulder's.

"You need not worry about how my parents will react, Mulder," she writes him in response. "You're the oldest son of a wealthy landowner. Regardless of how we might have met, you are still a far more advantageous match than they could ever have hoped to make for either of their daughters. I'm certain they'll be too much in awe of you to turn you away. Your parents, on the other hand, are unlikely to be much impressed with a poor sailor's daughter who met you while playing dress-up in the enemy's army- especially given that they already have a far more suitable match picked out." Mulder is, predictable, dismissive.

"It doesn't matter whether or not my parents approve," he writes her. "This is my decision to make, and I choose you. There is nothing that anyone- not my parents, not your parents, not Diana- can say to me that will change my mind."

Much of this correspondence is, despite Scully's best efforts, read over her shoulder by her sister, who finds the entire thing deliriously romantic and does not hesitate to tell her so.

"It's just not fair, Dana," she complains, lying on her back on the corner of the bed, her arm thrown dramatically up over her forehead. "I left home and ran away to New York City in search of romance and adventure, and all I've gotten for my troubles is an overcrowded apartment that I'm forced to share with three girls who are all prettier than I am. You, on the other hand, run off and join the army and end up engaged to a rich, handsome landowner's heir."

"Let's not forget the part where I ended up with a musket ball in my belly," grumbles Scully. She's not feeling particularly well today, having slept poorly and woken with a stubborn cough, and she's less patient with Melissa than she might normally be.

"Still, I think even with that, you come out ahead of me," says Melissa. "And you're the youngest, for goodness sake. It was hard enough that you already had an offer of marriage long before me, with father's doctor friend- what was his name?"

"Daniel," sighs Scully.

"Yes, him. It was bad enough that he approached Father for your hand when you were practically still a child, but now you're going to actually be married before I've even had a man show the slightest bit of interest."

"Not necessarily," Scully points out. "Nothing is going to happen until the war is over. For all we know, it could drag on another ten years." She bites her lip. "Or one of us might not even survive. This was already a close call, and-" But she's cut short as she's shaken by a bout of coughing so long and deep that it pulls at her still-healing injury. Melissa sits up and watches her worriedly as she clasps her side in pain, struggling to get her breath back.

"That's the third time this has happened in an hour, Dana," says Missy, every last hint of whimsy gone from her voice. "And your face is getting whiter by the minute." She reaches out and feels Scully's forehead. "You're warmer, too."

"I may have a fever," Scully admits. She's been feeling increasingly lethargic all day, but until now she's been putting it down to the fact that she hasn't felt like eating much for the past few days, and Missy, anxious to avoid conflict, hasn't been pressing the issue. But now, as she works to master her breathing, she can't avoid facing up to the realization that something is wrong.

"What do I do, Dana?" Melissa asks. "Mother used to put cold compresses on our foreheads when we were sick. Should I do that?"

"It's probably a good place to start," Scully agrees.

"Maybe I should ask James," says Melissa. "If he doesn't know what to do, maybe one of the other servants here does." Scully shakes her head.

"None of the others will come in the house, even with Mulder's father gone," she reminds her sister. The few servants that have been left to take care of the plantation in its owners' absence are field hands, forbidden from entering the house, with the exception of James, who, Mulder had explained, had figured out Scully's secret the moment he had laid eyes on her. "I don't want-" But she's interrupted by yet another bout of coughing, this one worse, and by the time it finally subsides, Scully is completely winded.

"Close your eyes and rest, Dana," says Melissa, standing and removing some of the pillows that are propping Scully up, forcing her to lie back down flat. "I'm going to make a cold compress and... and...." She wrings her hands, clearly at a loss. "I'll have someone make you some broth. That will help, right?" Scully closes her eyes, too weary to argue.

"Sounds good," she says weakly, even though the idea of trying to eat something just now seems horrifically exhausting. Missy says something in response, but Scully is already drifting off to sleep.

She's not sure how much time has passed, or if she's even truly awake, when she next hears her sister speaking, having a hushed discussion with someone whose voice Scully doesn't recognize.

"You don't understand, I've never taken care of someone who's ill before," Missy is saying. "I've no idea what could be wrong with her, no idea what I'm supposed to do."

"Miss, there's no one nearby that we can send for," a male voice responds. "The doctor in Culpeper is with Lee's army. The only other people 'round here are the men who work the fields and tend the animals, and none of them are gonna set foot in this house, not even if Master Fox himself shows up and asks them. They're too afraid of his father." This, Scully thinks through her feverish haze, must be James, the house's caretaker.

"What about someone else from the village?" Missy asks. "Isn't there anyone you could ask?"

"And how do we explain what she's doing here?" counters James. "Everyone in Culpeper knows the Mulders, and everyone in Culpeper knows they're in Fredericksburg. If someone from the village sees the two of you, they're likely to write Master William and ask him about the two strange women staying in his house."

Don't send for anyone, Scully tries to say, but she can't quite make her lips obey. I'm fine, I'll be fine, don't let anyone find me here....

The voices fade, and Scully dreams... or, at least, she thinks she does. It's difficult to tell. She thinks she hears her mother talking, telling her to get out of bed and help her prepare the evening meal before her father and her brothers come home. Missy is off somewhere, her mother complains, and she'll never have everything ready in time without at least one of her daughters to help her out.

Scully tries to tell her that she can't, she's sick, she's too weak to get out of bed, but her mother takes no notice, bustling around Samantha Mulder's bedroom as though she knows exactly where everything goes, as though it were a room in her own house. Watching Maggie is making Scully dizzy, so she closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, her mother is gone, and there's only Samantha's room, the night sky visible through the windows, the room itself dimly lit by a fire burning low in the grate. She turns her head to look the other way, and her father is there, sitting in the armchair that Melissa had occupied some time before.

"Hey there, Sprout," he says, smiling warmly at her. "Looks like you've gotten yourself in a spot of trouble." Scully tries to answer him and finds that she can't, but her father seems to understand her all the same. "It'll all be all right soon," he promises. "You just hold on and stay strong now, you hear me? Won't be long now. Help is on the way. But I'm warning you, Sprout, it's going to get a whole lot worse before it starts to get any better." He smiles again, sadly this time, and Scully realizes that she can see right through him to the back of the armchair.

There's a cough, the smell of cigar smoke, and then Charles Spender is leaning over her, regarding her with an air of detached curiosity. She shies away from him, and he laughs... and as she watches, his face shifts, changing to the face of the surgeon who had treated her at Bristoe Station. His mouth moves, but Scully can't make out what he's saying. Melissa stands behind him, her face pale and anxious. The light from the fire seems too bright, and Scully closes her eyes against it... and when she opens them again, Spender has returned, and it's Diana Fowley who stands at his shoulder, smiling maliciously down at her. Sean Pendrell waits by the foot of the bed, watching her worriedly, and Scully wonders if he's come to escort her to the other side, to wherever souls go when their time on Earth has ended. She tries to tell Pendrell that she's not ready, that she can't go with him, that Mulder still needs her here, that she's sorry, so sorry that he had to die, but doesn't he understand that it will all be in vain if she agrees to go with him now? She has to stay.

Spender reaches out suddenly and yanks at the bandages covering Scully's wound, pulling them off and exposing the flesh of her midsection. As Scully watches, he rips at the injury and seems to shove his entire hand inside of it. The pain is immediate and all-consuming, and Scully writhes and screams, trying desperately to escape. Diana takes her left shoulder and holds her down, and someone else takes her right side. Scully looks up to see who it is, and Daniel Waterston sneers down at her, glorying in her pain, in her inability to get away.

The faces around her continue to blur and shift, until Scully doesn't know who is holding her down, Diana Fowley and Daniel Waterston or Melissa and Mulder. She doesn't know who is causing this terrible pain, the army surgeon or Charles Spender, or why they're doing this to her. All that she knows is that it goes on and on, and when at last it seems to be over, Scully can do nothing but lapse into a sleep that is blessedly and profoundly dark and dreamless.

When she next opens her eyes, Fox Mulder is gazing down at her.

"Mulder?" She can speak again, finally, though her voice is frighteningly frail, and her throat hurts terribly. She reaches towards him, trying to touch him and see whether he's real or just another vision, but she's so weak that her hand can't close the distance. He seems to understand, and takes her hand in his own, pressing it gently to his face.

"I'm here," he says. "I'm right here, Scully. And this time, I'm not leaving until you're completely well."

"What happened?" she asks, but this time, it's not Mulder who answers.

"You developed an infection," says a voice from the foot of the bed, and Scully looks over to see the surgeon from Bristoe Station. She hadn't been hallucinating him, then; he had really been here. Melissa stands just behind him. "I had to cut away the inflamed tissue and treat the wound with bromide. I'm sorry for the pain; I know it had to have been difficult to bear."

"This is Corporal Zuckerman," Mulder explains. "The same surgeon who treated you after you were shot." Scully nods.

"I remember," she says.

"Your sister sent for me when she couldn't bring your fever down," Mulder tells her.

"I didn't know what else to do," says Missy apologetically. "I could see that the wound was infected, but I didn't know how to treat it."

"I found Corporal Zuckerman and brought him with me," continues Mulder. "I had a feeling you would prefer a surgeon who already knew what he'd find under your wrappings." He grins teasingly at her, and she manages a weak smile in return.

"But won't you be missed?" Scully asks. "Both of you?" Mulder shakes his head.

"The army's gone into winter quarters," he explains. "I told Colonel Skinner what happened, and he gave both of us leave to go. Corporal Zuckerman needs to return soon, but I've been permitted to stay with you until you're well enough to come back to the regiment." Scully looks back and forth between Mulder and Melissa.

"It was you, holding me down?" she asks.

"You put up one hell of a fight," says Mulder, a trace of pride unmistakeable in his voice. "It took everything we had to keep you in one place long enough for Zuckerman to finish with you, even as sick as you were."

"You looked at us like you might kill us if you got loose," puts in Melissa. "Your face was as terrifying as I've ever seen it."

"I thought you were...." Her voice trails off. She's embarrassed, now, that her fever dreams had featured Diana. "Never mind," she says. "I must have been out of my mind with fever."

"I'd have to agree with that assessment," says Zuckerman. "And you're not out of the woods yet, by any means. I'm going to stay for a few more days, to make sure we've gotten a handle on the infection, and I'll leave medicines behind when I go in case the fever returns."

"Thank you, Corporal Zuckerman," says Mulder. "I don't want to even think about what would have happened without your help."

"Yes, thank you," chimes in Melissa. "From us, and from our family. It would have been awful for all of us if you hadn't been here." Scully, already exhausted from this brief conversation, smiles her gratitude at Zuckerman even as her vision begins to go fuzzy at the edges.

"We should let you rest now," says Zuckerman. He and Melissa begin to leave, but Mulder remains in place by Scully's side.

"I'll stay," he tells the other two. "In case she needs anything."

"Mulder," Scully protests, her voice muddled and sleepy, "I'll be fine. I'm not even going to be awake."

"I'll watch you sleep, then," he whispers, low enough so that the others, standing across the room by the door, can't hear him. "It's something I've missed doing since you've been gone." Scully relents, nodding her permission, and Zuckerman and Melissa leave, shutting the door softly behind them.

The last thing that Scully is aware of, as she drifts off to sleep again, is Mulder lying down beside her, tenderly stroking her face.

[southsidestory]

"I don’t care if someone is a member of the LGBTQ community, I don’t care what race they are. Characteristics that we are born with (and have no control over) have zero bearing on who we are as human beings."

See, because you're my friend and I know you, I know that when you say this I can take it at face value. You actually mean it exactly the way it sounds. Which is that you don't make judgments about someone's character based on anything besides their actions.

But I have seen soooo many people online and heard soooo many people irl say almost the exact same thing word for word, and that is not what they meant at all! What they actually meant was usually something pretty nasty and/or bigoted. Which is why I went to look at the source of these tweets, despite agreeing with the overall sentiment of them.

"To me, this tweet is simply saying that all of the labels in the world don’t matter if you’re a jerk lacking substance."

That is a very reasonable understanding of this tweet. And again, if I hadn't heard Differentvoicex's precise language coming from the mouths of assholes so many times, I probably would have reblogged it without much thought.

You're right about what this tweet is saying. But I think the context is important to acknowledge. And that's what I'm trying to get at here, is providing context. It's not about "what this person said here is wrong because I don't like other stuff they're saying on the bird app" because that's absurd.

I'm not going to continue the Hitler comparison because I don't think I can compare a Black woman whose opinion I disagree with to HITLER without it being a very bad idea lol. But I get where you're coming from, and I do want to address it.

You're using a morally reprehensible human being whom I think we can all agree was a racist fucknut as an example, and suggesting that, according to my logic, because he was a racist fucknut he could never say things that were correct from time to time. Which isn't what I'm doing at all. Of course, if Hitler said the Earth was round, the Earth wouldn't suddenly be flat.

This isn't a matter of dismissing an objective statement of scientific fact like "the Earth is round" because the person who said it was evil. It's a matter of providing context around a politically charged statement by pointing out what else the source has said on the same issues. I'm connecting the content of this tweet to other content in the same vein on her twitter, which is relevant. If she had tweeted "the Earth is round" and I argued against that because I disagree with some of her political opinions, then I'd be comparing apples to oranges. As is, I'm comparing apples to apples.

"After 2.5 years on tumblr, I get the sense that some folks hoard labels like “oppression points” and wield them like a shield . As if these labels give them carte blanche to say and/or demand whatever they want - whether their claims are true or not, or their demands are legitimate or not."

Anon hate? Senseless attacks? Mob rage? Of course it’s justified, because “look at all my labels, obviously you cannot ever disagree with me!” 🥴

You're not going to get any disagreement from there lol. I've seen exactly that happen too many times not to recognize the reality of the situation. But just because there are some people who use their marginalization as a "shield" from critique, it's important not to lose sight of why these labels exist and why the vast majority of us use them in the first place.

Especially right now, in June, fucking Pride Month, I'm wary of shitting on labels. This is a time for celebrating who we are with... well, pride lol. Sometimes that means waving a striped flag or putting "they/them" in your bio, and the mere act of saying "This is who I am and I'm celebrating it without shame!" doesn't deserve to be lumped in with saying "I'm a poor, disabled biromantic ace woman, and therefore I can't say anything wrong ever!"

My point in directing folks to look at the twitter account behind these tweets was to reveal that this is in fact exactly what the OP is doing. She's conflating folks who are simply fighting for their rights with the sort of people who call you racist for not liking Thor: Ragnarok (which happened to me a few days ago asdf;hgksdf)

Call me old fashioned, but I think context is ALWAYS important lol

I'd be remiss not to respond to this:

But this person appears to be Black. And I thought we were supposed to be “amplifying Black voices”.  Do this person’s opinions not matter because they don’t fall in lock step with a specific ideological script?

Her opinion absolutely matters! And I don't think she should be silenced just because I disagree with her. But I'm also not obligated to agree with all of her opinions on racial justice just because she's Black. No more than straight people are obligated to agree with me on all of my opinions about queer rights, or abled people are obligated to agree with me about disability rights. Being marginalized doesn't mean I'm always right, and it doesn't mean she's always right either... which I believe is part of the point you are making, yes? ;)

(Also, for anyone who thinks birk and I are now enemies, I'd like you to know that while we have this conversation publicly, we're also DMing about a grompy cat in a sunflower costume.)

Good character transcends any label you choose to give yourself or others. 🙏🙌👏♥️

[cannoli-reader]

The Problem with Egwene (Book 2: Part 1)

Starting with Egwene’s escapades in Fal Dara in the beginning of The Great Hunt

1. The first appearance of Egwene in “The Great Hunt” is when she confronts Rand about abrasive treatment of his friends.  This is one of the first instances of a pattern of complete and total disregard of other people’s right to choices or privacy.  With Egwene, while her intentions might be good, or at least she might tell herself so, what other people want, really does not matter to her.  What matters is what Egwene wants or thinks is best, and she seems to truly believe she has the right to do whatever she wishes in support of that vision. 

In this particular case, the fact that Rand is not interested in listening to her diatribe means she physically assaults him in order to restrain him to say her piece. And the flip side of a great many of Egwene’s transgressions against other people, is that it’s to no purpose, other than forcing them to pay attention to, or acknowledge her, to the degree she wishes.  She doesn’t have any insights or arguments for Rand.  She doesn’t have anything to say that he needs to hear or that can help him.  Rand is not listening to Egwene al’Vere, the center of the universe, he is walking away from her, and she cannot let that stand.  

Egwene’s words only exacerbate the wrongness of her actions, when Rand attempts to threaten her to make her get off of him.

“You wouldn’t, if you could. You would not hurt anybody. But you can’t anyway.  I know you cannot channel...whenever you want. I, on the other hand, have been taking lessons with Moiraine...if you don’t listen to some sense, Rand al’Thor, I might just set your breeches on fire...”

She knows he is constitutionally incapable of fighting back, gloats about her psychological advantage afford by her female privilege, and not only suggests she might use serious violence against him, she contemplates it sufficiently that she touches the Source and weilds Fire to some degree! It’s one thing to make a hollow threat the recipient knows you cannot carry out, as Rand did to inspire the quoted reply.  It’s one thing to discuss a hypothetical possibility. But its a whole other degree of wrong to play around with the means to do it.  It would be as if Rand threatened to shoot her, she pointed out that he doesn’t even know how a gun works, and then emphasized that she does. Which isn’t all that serious...unless she actually starts stroking the gun on her person, and accidentally sets it off! That is criminally wrong carelessness, on top of the aforementioned assault and possible domestic violence she has already perpetrated in this conversation. 

2. When Rand pulls her off his prone body by holding her arm, Egwene rubs it, affecting affront and injury, and rather than apologize or admit her fault when he castigates her for her misstep with the Power, she accuses him of resorting to force!  Rand tells her:

“You’re fooling with things you don’t understand! You could have burned both of us to charcoal!”

And he’s right! Not only that, he’s not the first person to tell her this.  It’s in the same vein as Perrin’s dismay at her efforts to rely on the Power for cooking. And this is how these little petty things are important.  Rand and Perrin both understand basic principles of consequences.  They understand responsibility and how to handle dangerous things.  They don’t need insight or trianing in the One Power to understand that it is inherently dangerous.  But not only does Egwene fail to recognize this, she consistantly refuses to engage with the criticism, instead attempting to reframe the incident as one in which she is the victim of violence by Rand, or oppression by Perrin. 

And for some reason, she is never called to account or has to face the consequences for this sort of thing, so it’s something she never grows out of (well, actually the reason is that the author Pattern is building toward her ultimate act of indifference to consequences). 

3. Egwene’s decision to hide Rand has a couple of different things to unpack.  First of all, there is the revelation that she has been visiting Padan Fain. Rand attributes this to loneliness, because it’s Rand’s nature to feel needlessly guilty.  Translated into rationality, this means “Egwene has led a pretty charmed life to this point, and has no patience for all four of her friends having issues to grapple with, and requires attention, so she’s going to get it wherever she can, no matter how bad an idea.”  

Egwene knows exactly what the readers know about Padan Fain by this point, that he is dangerous, that he is tied to Mordeth, who corrupted a whole nation with his words and advise. She was in the room, when he tried to pull the exact same thing with Lord Agelmar, and when Moiraine went on and on about how dangerous he was, and what he has done so far. 

Some people will swallow whole Egwene’s claim of compassionate motivation and desire to see him rehabilitated, but this is a strange position for someone who will eventually make little or no effort to see Rand’s side when things start getting tough for him, and write it all off as arrogance and an out of control ego.  

And Rand’s right, again, to operate from the concern that Fain is just flat out dangerous, and to realize that Egwene hasn’t even bothered to check with Moiraine about how safe it is for her to visit him. 

Even her rejoinder to Rand pointing out how stupid her actions are, is dishonest, equating Rand’s mistrust of Moiraine’s intentions with her ignoring Moiraine’s expertise. Going forward, this will be a rather mind-boggling position for her to take in hindsight, given her generally being indignant at Rand’s failure to obtain Moiraine’s position.  And that’s when he is the Dragon Reborn, and arguably beyond the authority of a mere Aes Sedai.  In Fal Dara, Egwene is an aspiring initiate of the White Tower. Even if she doesn’t understand the specifics of Moiraine’s place in the hierarchy relative to her, she should be showing more respect for a more senior member of the vocation to which she aspires. 

Egwene also leaps to the assumption that Moiraine will keep Rand’s secret from the Amyrlin, but Lan can’t be trusted.  Which will shortly prove to be the exact opposite of the truth where Rand’s interests are concerned.  

She says that Moiraine hasn’t done anything about him so far, so why assume she would now? Possible reasons that should be within Rand’s or Egwene’s ability to figure out include:

She has reinforcements, in the person of the Amyrlin and her retinue, and is free to act, when she might have been wary of facing alone someone who possesses the capacity to kill one of the Forsaken

She will be compelled to act differently by the orders of the Amyrlin, who is the supreme authority for the Aes Sedai

She has recently returned to Fal Dara in possession of new information that will impell her to a different course of action

Again, Egwene’s position is logically bankrupt, and she gets away with no one calling her on it. 

Finally, Egwene rebukes Rand’s desire to get some distance from his friends, claiming that if doesn’t do anything wrong, he shouldn’t have anything to worry about.  What she is doing is tacitly victim-blaming Rand for whatever actions he might take while afflicted by the taint.  Even without the appalling morality of her thinking, there is the point that Moiraine explicitly told her just the opposite in the prior book.  Moiraine told Egwene that the male channelers had no control over their actions. But Egwene seems to have ignored this and dismisses the danger Rand presents to those around him.  

4. With the stupidity of Egwene’s dealings with Fain and assumptions about Rand’s postion dealt with, there is now her plan to hide Rand. She insists on the dungeons, rather than the storerooms, because people are more likely to look in the storerooms. 

Ooookay.  But it does not change the fact that Egwene’s plan will have Rand in a dungeon!  Egwene visits the dungeons every day.  She knows the layout and the arrangements.  So Egwene also should be aware that the dungeons are guarded, and you need the guards’ cooperation to pass through the door.  By their very nature, dungeons are built to keep people in, and available to the authorities.  This is the worst “hiding” spot Rand could pick.  

There isn’t even a plausible explanation for this idea from Egwene.  The closest that comes to mind, is that it’s her solution, her idea, utilizing her familiarity with the location. The appeal of the solution is that it puts Egwene in charge of its execution. If they were to hide Rand in an unsued barracks or armory, with which Egwene would be unfamiliar, and possibly unwelcome in, she isn’t the center of attention.

5. There is also the ethics of Egwene’s eventual chosen hiding place, the women’s quarters. As well as hiding Rand in the first place.  See, we are readers of an epic fantasy series.  We can understand concepts like Protagonist Morality and Plot Armor, and assume that Rand is not, in fact, going to succumb to the taint, at least until an dramatically appropriate point in the story. But Egwene does not know this.  Egwene is a person in the world of the Wheel of Time, where the greatest danger in the world is a man who can channel, regardless of who he is, because the taint gets them all, inevitably. 

Moiraine, Siuan and Verin make the decision to conceal Rand’s status because they know he is the Dragon Reborn, that he is not an ordinary male channeler, and there are reasons not to gentle him yet. Egwene does not know this. What she does know, is that he could, at any time, go insane and start killing people and destroying his surroundings. She herself nearly caused a fire by accident, moments before, without a preternatural evil mental affliction. 

So Egwene has no business hiding Rand (and if she is trusting on the fact that Moiraine has done nothing to assume he is a special case, she should be trusting or consulting Moiraine).  Whatever his morality or intentions, he is the equivalent of a plague vector, chained to a weapon of mass destruction on a timer no one can read. Even if Egwene is not going to turn him in, or take active measures to prevent him from causing harm, that does not mean she should impede those who will. Even if she feels she is justified in helping Rand evade the sisters, she still does not have the right to endanger other people by hiding Rand among them, especially without their knowledge, let alone their consent.   

Also, the specific choice of the women’s quarters is a singularly bad one. Once again, it is a location that minimizes Rand’s ability to manuever or escape.  It is also a venue in which the authorities have superior access and control to his. The Aes Sedai can move freely in the women’s quarters by the simple fact of their gender. Not only that, but they are actually living there, because that’s where the women live. Again, Egwene can say all she wants about the cleverness of the hiding spot due to it being unexpected...but it’s unexpected for some very good reasons!  We circle back around to it once again being a location he requires Egwene’s assistance to navigate and access.  Egwene’s solutions have two things in common, they are objectively awful, and place her in control.

6. A few other notes:

Egwene’s hiding plan sucks, as Moiraine spots them moments into the effort.

Egwene, despite Fain’s little display in the dungeons that left her momentarily unable to contradict or ignore Rand for once, persists by doubling down on her error, and trying to drag Mat & Perrin down to visit him.  Again, she was there when Moiraine pointed out his compulsion, imposed by the Shadow, to hunt and track the three ta’veren.  She saw his insanity when brought face to face with one of his designated quarry. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together should not expect anything different with the others.  

One motivation that comes to mind is that Egwene is looking to spread the blame around, anticipating Moiraine’s displeasure now that her visits are likely to come out, and would like to be able to say that as many of the Two Rivers quintet have shared her misdeed as she can manage. 

Another possibility is that her exposure to Fain has had some of the dangerous effects that might be feared from his history.  A compulsion to bring the three men he hates and is drawn towards, into his presence might go a way to explain her persistance in that course of action, in the face of common sense and her experiences.  But this is still a consequence of her ill-advised and singular choice to act, and an example of how her recklessness endanger more than just herself. Egwene is obsessed with taking agency, but frequently forgets to handle the corollary responsibility. 

[ec-sanderssides]

So,,, If you are still taking prompts, here is a really badly thought out one! Mainly angst, but like,,, hurt/comfort too lol. Preferred ship is poly sanders but any ship is fine. I really just want an angsty one-shot for Logan. Possibly with cuddles from the others at the end. My original idea for this was somewhere along the lines of "One of the others calls Logan heartless/emotionless and he spends te rest of the day over thinking it, wondering if he should feel more emotion and (1)

he tried to make himself feel as much emotion as he can, because he has experienced emotion before (his love for the others? ;) ) but due to the statement (emotionless) he starts doubting whether or not those were actually emotions. He eventually breaks down and the others find him? Sorry, I’m really just rambling off the top of my head lol. I hope you have fun with this prompt! 💗 Have a great day!!! (2)

I don’t know what you’re talking about, this was a great prompt. I had a lot of fun filling it. I hope you like how it turned out. 

“I don’t know how you can be so heartless.”

Prince’s words rang out in the room. “Sometime, I swear, it’s like you don’t even have emotions.”

Logan felt himself stiffen. “Just because I don’t feel the need to weep over a cartoon deer, does not make me heartless,” he said quietly.

“Well, you didn’t need to roll your eyes at me for doing it either. And besides, that’s hardly the only example. Why, just last week, you so cruelly refused to let us get that dog Morality had been begging for.”

“We can’t afford to have a dog and you know that, Roman.” Logan pursed his lips. That had been a bad day, Morality had nearly cried, but there was no way they could afford the proper care for a dog.

“You could have at least considered it,” Prince grumbled, turning back towards the TV.

“This is irrelevant.” Logan turned towards the door. “I have work to do, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Prince only offered a dismissive wave of his hand as a response. Logan made his way out of the common room, towards his own bedroom, locking the door upon entry. He stared blankly at the ground. Was that really how the others thought about him?

He knew that he was… colder than the other sides, who were so much more easily influenced by emotion, but he hadn’t thought they’d minded. But this wasn’t the first comment of this sort he’d heard. Hadn’t Morality asked him to have a heart when he refused to let them get the puppy?

Logan knew he was obsessing over what was in all likelihood a throwaway comment from Roman, but he couldn’t stop. Were the others unhappy being with him? Did they feel he wasn’t demonstrative enough in their relationship? Or worse, perhaps they doubted his interest in their relationship at all.

Logan swallowed hard. He really hoped that last part wasn’t true. If they thought that he didn’t reciprocate their feelings, that would be devastating. Because he did, he did. He loved them.

Really, are you sure? A voice crept into his mind, hissing softly. You’re not very good at showing it.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut. He was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like he had faked being in love. Perhaps he could stand to show it more, but he did love them

They were the ones to approach you though, the voice pointed out. You didn’t even notice they were interested until they flat out told you. You hadn’t even thought about being in a relationship with them. Are you sure you joined because you loved them, or just because they asked and it seemed reasonable enough to you.

No, he loved them. True, he hadn’t realized it before the others had said something. But once they had, he’d examined his feelings and realized the truth.

But the voice had managed to plant a seed of doubt. Had it really been love? Or had he just mistaken fondness to something else? He certainly enjoyed the company of the others, but that wasn’t the same as love. He didn’t declare it often like Morality. He wasn’t one for big romantic gestures like Prince. He didn’t even sneakily offer gifts and cuddles like Anxiety.

Logan could feel his pulse rate going up as his breath came in faster and more raggedly. God, what if he was heartless. What if he’d only just been going through the motions this entire time, and he didn’t actually feel anything for the others? What if he’d been lying this entire time? That would devastate them. He’d hurt them.

He- he couldn’t, no.

Logan sank to the floor, completely lost. He had no idea what to do. Normally he would got to Morality for emotion-related issues, but if he was correct the news that he hadn’t ever loved any of them would devastate Morality. No, he couldn’t tell any of the others. He just had to keep quiet for their sake. Even if he truly was emotionless, he still could keep up the pretense long enough to slowly pull away. That way he wouldn’t hurt them.

Logan ignored the ache in his chest as he thought about pulling away. If he was so incapable of feeling, they’d be better off without him in the long run. He had never really brought much to the relationship anyway. They’d probably be relieved in the end.

Logan stayed in his room till dinner, calming himself down, and reluctantly making plans for how to break things off as gently as possible. By the time Morality came to knock at his door, he had a rough sketch of an idea, but he wasn’t much calmer. As he walked to the kitchen, Logan decided to just stay quiet for most of dinner. He wasn’t really sure what would end up pouring out if he opened his mouth.

The table had already been set, and he could see Anxiety sitting at the table looking at his phone. He looked up when Logan walked in though.

“Hey,” he drawled, “haven’t seen you all day.”

Logan just nodded at him as he sat down, forcing his lips up into a small smile.

Anxiety’s eyebrows knit together and he put down his phone. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Logan forced out, “Merely tired.”

“Want to come back to my room for a cuddle and a nap after dinner?” Anxiety offered.

Logan shook his head. “That’s unnecessary, thank you for offering though.”

If he wanted to break this off, he had to begin pulling away now. Although Anxiety’s offer was truly tempting. While the darker side could be temperamental in his affections, once their relationship had progressed, he had revealed a love for physical affection. Many times when tired, he would just flop onto the lap of whoever was closest and refuse to move.

Anxiety looked like he still had something to say, but whatever it was, it was interrupted by Morality entering with dinner.

“I made chicken and mashed potatoes tonight,” he said cheerfully. “Plus a side of green beans. I hope you like it.”

It smelled delicious, but Logan didn’t take very much food. His stomach still felt tight and the thought of food made him feel slightly queasy.

His lackluster appetite evidently caught Morality’s attention, as the other side asked in a concerned tone, “Are you feeling alright, champ?”

“He says he’s just tired,” Anxiety cut in before he could reply, his eyes studying Logan intensely.

“Well that’s no good,” Morality said, now looking even more concerned. “Here, let me feel your forehead. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

“I’m fine,” Logan said through gritted teeth. He stood up from the table, unable to bear the concern any longer. “I’m just going to go back to my room to nap.”

Prince’s hand caught his arm before he could leave the table though. “Let go of me, Prince,” he snapped. He had to get out of there.

But Prince wasn’t letting go, instead he pulled Logan closer, looking up at him with confusion. “Logan,” he began, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” Logan told him, tugging at his arm, “I just need I’m just not hungry.“

“If you aren’t feeling well, I could make some soup instead,” Morality offered, having gotten out of his seat to stand near Logan.

“That’s unnecessary,” Logan said, “I’m fine.”

But on the last word, his voice cracked. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t handle them being so kind when he’d been so awful. He squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop the approaching tears, but it didn’t work. He could feel them slip down his cheeks, one right after the other. A sob tore out of his throat and his hands came to cover his face. He-he couldn’t do this.

Instantly, he felt arms wrap around him, and soothing voice begin to croon in his ear.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. It’s okay, we’re here, you’re okay. We’ve got you, it will all be okay.”

Logan couldn’t stop crying though. There was a slight murmur then a rustle of fabric, and suddenly he was being picked up and carried bridal style in Prince’s arms. He could feel himself being set down on the couch and the couch cushions dip as the others joined him, but he didn’t dare open his eyes.

A set of hands tugged him sideways, pulling him to lean into their owner’s chest. Meanwhile, other hands rubbed his back and ran through his hair. Eventually, Logan’s choked sobs trailed off, and he was left sniffling and exhausted.

He pushed himself out of the warm embrace, which he now recognized to be Morality’s, sitting up straight instead, as he began cleaning his glasses, still refusing to look at the others.

“I’m sorry for that,” he murmured, “But I’m fine now.”

“If you think we’ll believe that, you’re an idiot,” Anxiety said, peering at him with concern from his perch on the back of the couch.

“He’s right,” Prince said quietly from Logan’s left. “What brought this on?”

Logan just stared at his feet again. He really didn’t want to tell them. If he told them he might ruin everything.

But then Morality’s hand tugged his chin up to face the other side, whose eyes were shimmering with worry. “Baby, please,” Morality begged, “Just tell us what’s wrong. Tell us how we can help.”

That broke him.

“I don’t deserve you,” Logan said, shame filling his voice.

There was a pause as the others processed that. Then-

“What the hell are you talking about?” Anxiety asked harshly, sounding agitated. “Where the fuck did you get an idea like that?”

“You all deserve people who can love you,” Logan explained, having broken from Morality’s grip to stare at the floor once more. “And I- I can’t. I’m too cold, too emotionless, too heartless to love you the way you all deserve to be loved. And I am so, so sorry.”

He went to stand, not wanting to stay and draw out his pain any longer, but the he was being firmly pressed to Morality’s chest, his arms clutching Logan desperately.

“That’s not true,” the other side was whispering, his voice sounding horrified. “That’s not true at all. You’re perfect and we love you, and we love the way you love us. There is nothing wrong with you!”

“But it is true,” Logan said trying to pry himself out of Morality’s arms, to give himself some space before he broke again, but the other refused to budge, and he could feel the arms of the other two begin to wind their way around him as well.

“It is,” he insisted, “I am heartless. I disappoint you all the time. I didn’t- I didn’t even notice you had feelings for me before you outright told me, and I would have never considered being with you if you haven’t suggested it. I thought that I could be enough, that my inability to deal with emotions wouldn’t matter, but I’m not and I can’t. I’m not enough!”

He could feel the tears dripping out again, as he sat trapped in a cocoon of arm affection, knowing he deserved none of it.

“I don’t know why or how you can think that,” Anxiety said fiercely, his voice coming from right next to Logan’s ear, “but it’s a goddamn lie. You will always be enough.”

“He’s right, sweetheart,” Morality said, now sounding as though he was crying too. “And I’m so sorry you ever felt like you weren’t.”

Prince was the next to speak. “Is this because of what I said earlier?” he asked, sounding terrified, “because I swear I didn’t mean it. I was annoyed and embarrassed and I lashed out at you. And that was so wrong of me. I never should have hurt, I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Logan muttered, “You were right anyway.”

Immediately after saying that, he felt his shoulders being seized and whipped around, as Prince pulled him into a fierce and desperate kiss. Prince’s hands came up to cup his face, thumbs gently stroking away Logan’s tears.

The gesture was so full of love, that Logan couldn’t help the small sob that broke through his lips. Prince’s only response was to pull him closer, the kiss gentling as Logan leaned, trembling, into it.

When they finally broke for air, Prince leaned his forehead against Logan’s his eyes  wild and intense. “You are not heartless,” he said firmly. “Do you struggle with your emotions sometimes? Yes, but that doesn’t make you heartless. You are an amazing man, who I am so lucky to have, and I will love your forever, because you will always be enough. Do you understand me?”

“I-“ Logan began, but his voice was too choked to speak anymore.

Anxiety broke the silence. “Roman’s right,” he said, “Struggling with emotions doesn’t make you a bad person. I mean, how many times have you had to talk me down when my head gets too screwed up to think straight?”

“That’s different,” Logan rasped out.

“Is it?” Morality asked, letting his chin hook over Logan’s shoulder. “Because I don’t think so. And if you’re still worried, well, would someone who’s emotionless be in this position? Would someone who didn’t love us feel this hurt?”

Logan’s breath caught. That- that was…

“He’s right,” Prince murmured.

Anxiety nodded, “You can’t argue with logic.”

Logan’s mind spun, they were- they were right. They were right and they loved him, and they weren’t upset, no, they were here, and they were holding him, and oh god.

“I love you,” he sobbed out, “I love you, I love you, I love you”

As he repeated his mantra over and over, their arms tightened more around him, filling him with warmth.

“Let’s take this to a bed,” Morality suggested, “I think we all could use a good cuddling session.”

That sounded amazing to Logan, but…

“What about dinner?” he asked.

“Dinner can wait.” Morality said, pressing a sweet kiss to Logan’s lips. “You’re much more important.”

Later lying in his bed, with his three partners wrapped around him, Logan felt like he was finally starting to believe that, that he was important, that he was loved, and that he wasn’t heartless.

He let his eyes close with contentment, and snuggled deeper into the warmth surrounding him. No, in this moment, he didn’t feel heartless at all, but rather than his heart might burst from the love filling it.

He was enough.

[sharkiegorath]

@almaviva90​ thanks for mentioning That Article, the only thing that can make me write coherently rn

I mean, God, if it’d just been called an underwhelming/bad show that would’ve been, like,  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, it’s your opinion, buddy. But personal bias aside, singling Finn out of all the characters in the series, especially the Scotland Yard arc, is??? It’s compounded by how the article doesn’t actually give any reason for why he’s included, unless you count ‘he’s like this one iconic character except not I guess’. So I’d like to examine the subconscious processes behind why Finn is listed as a Great Character while everyone else - cast and character - is disregarded, especially since positive reviews pinpointed the ensemble effort.

anyway I took this as an opportunity to Go the Fuck Off suddenly synthesizing loose scraps of information I’ve had for some time so bear in mind

“The folks who did stick with it mostly stayed onboard for Bertie Carvel’s Finn”??? Where are you getting this information? Since 2014, positive reviews and tweets mentioned the ensemble. For mediocre-to-negative audience reactions, I’d say there was a 50/50 split between people saying they only continued to watch for Bertie versus only continuing to watch for Brit. I’m pretty sure social media suggested there were more people who started watching for one actor then ended up immersed in the overall series.

Anyway.  Anyway.

The reason the article loosely gives for Finn's impressiveness is silly in the first place. Yeah, he's superficially like Malcolm Tucker, they're both spin doctors who go on shouty elaborate tangents. If it's been done before, why's it interesting? What distinguishes Finn so much that he's not just a clone in a different, allegedly weaker setting - which shouldn’t be worth listing - and how can he simultaneously be so similar that the explanation relies on preexisting knowledge of Tucker? 'He's even less charming' isn't a good reason, because intensifying one trait doesn't necessarily make a distinct character. (And based on what I've seen, isn't Finn less intense?)

Oh, and the fun thing is, that implied reason why he’s a stand-out character isn’t that accurate in the first place.

Firstly: we’re socially conditioned to identify with nominally straight white men, even (especially?) when they’re jerks. We create justifications for them in the absence of explicit excuses; we perceive complexity while oversimplifying other characters, even if we feel positively about them. But I’ve seen enough mediocre TV to think Finn is above-average. Until Ep. 5, I was partially willing to view him as complex because I believed everyone else was complex, and everyone else had interesting dynamics with him. I watched along with the original C4 airing. In terms of ‘sticking it through’, no, I didn’t watch just for Finn, and I had only watched the pilot for Bertie. Finn didn’t seem *that* important in the first two episodes of the main series, it looked like he might leave in the third, and his characterisation from the fourth onwards was tied to the overall plot. It was only subsequent marketing that gave away his prominence.

The article mentions (and dismisses) Bertie Carvel’s own opinion on Finn. (Which may have been paraphrased by the interviewer, but was probably still sympathetic.) He's realistic about his characters' flaws, including unambiguously sympathetic protagonists, including those who try to take advantage of institutional injustice. For him to say something along the lines of Finn not being that bad, Finn probably isn't. Babylon takes place over around a month, under uniquely stressful events. Since Liz's escalating issues make her act 2edgier and more unpleasant than usual, I think it's fair to infer that Finn is also not acting entirely like 'himself'; we don't have anywhere near the amount of context about his personal life as we do for Liz or Richard, but we do see his seemingly stable preexisting workplace relationships. Whether any of that justifies his behaviour is up to personal interpretation.

In Babylon, lack/introduction of context is juxtaposed with the transparency debate. (Actual Critic Genevieve Valentine also noted the narrative style, I'm not desperately bullshitting here.) It's ironic having characters argue about transparency when they aren't honest about themselves. It's not a mystery show, but mundane-yet-important details about main characters' personal lives are revealed suddenly, sometimes as surprises to the audience but not to other characters, sometimes as shocks to everyone. When characters learn more about each other and adjust their opinions, they themselves become more sympathetic in the process because it parallels audience reaction. I'm insistent that the series - specifically the Scotland Yard arc - is a team effort because otherwise Finn is just an asshole bouncing lines off people who don't verbally respond half of the time, and that's amazingly boring.

There isn't much evidence that Richard is a good person or Commissioner besides the word of his best friend and an infatuated woman he barely knows. He mistreats both of them in some way. He’s not mean to his family, but he's mentioned and shown as verbally abusive towards subordinates. Delgado may have had a point, since every other hint he gives to Liz is reliable. Yet the overall audience is probably more inclined to perceive Finn as the most-likely-to-be-abusive character, even though the only evidence is A) his interactions with Liz (who's matched him since day one; arguments aren't inherently abusive and they’ve started to Calm TF Down by the end) and B) his annoyance with Tom, which only peaks in the last two episodes.

Why does this happen? Because early on, Mia says Finn is an ‘arsehole’ - never mind how they usually seem to get along. (The only time they clash, his anger isn't actually directed at her.) No one paints a heroic picture of Finn; he describes himself through fictional villains or less-than-anti-heroes. He's not charismatic like Richard. He uses big words and has a severe gum addiction. Those 'undesirable traits' are subconsciously associated with being a white collar villain, while the obviously wrong actions of police characters aren’t as strongly vilified.

Audiences are so conditioned to expect certain story beats or clichés that we automatically assume they exist, or that there's a strong connection between things that aren't inherently linked. It happens with Liz, who might be negatively viewed the way Finn views her, or through a stereotypically rose-tinted ‘strong female character’ lens. It happens with Finn...who becomes most prominent as he’s part of the arcs of white women and a Black man. In his specific case, is that why the other characters aren't interesting, while he mysteriously pops out like a fucking daffodil in the middle of a desert? After Richard dies, only Finn could possibly fit what the protagonist of a satire 'should' look like, if you shut one eye and thought satires can't be humanist and pretended you didn't see certain scenes and turned off your deductive reasoning.

The worst things about Finn are his casual -ism’s and active role in the institution. I wonder if they’re the Bad Things identified by people who view him as an archetypal career-driven sadist, or if they come to mind at all. He’s not manipulative or a jerk as a default, he’s not motivated by money or power for its own sake. He’s arrogant and abrasive - that’s the rule in his setting, not the exception. Yet he mentally registers as a flat archetype at the cost of recognising his actual pressing issues. Not seeing his deeper issues undermines his dynamic with almost every other character - which, if you’re using him as a reference point, maybe explains why they might not appear as compelling, just maaaaybe. 

The trickiness of contextualization is specifically linked to Finn, who’s implied to have some sort of literary background. (Thanks, inexplicable Shakespeare bust!) In another interview, Bertie says Finn would describe himself as a ‘realist’. Finn occasionally brings up facts, but his concept of realism revolves around how other people construct their own fiction. (A neat thing about how Liz and Finn usually communicate: she ‘sells’ ideas, he gives mini narratives.)

It’s impossible to guard Richard while being honest about him or the police. Finn is opposed to Liz’s policies because their ‘story’ doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. He also romanticizes the job, but it’s in a Byronic way instead of straightforward heroism; he knows the truth is ugly and gives people more reasons to hate them, so he thinks they might as well control the narrative while they can. He frames his job as a gritty morally grey drama to justify himself - but it’s the wrong ‘genre’ and he fails to salvage their image anyway. Liz and Inglis have idealized, somewhat self-righteous perceptions of the institution, but they don’t use it to justify really bad things; their morality overrides conventional logic several times and it turns out to be the right thing, or the least wrong thing. They’re the only ones who remotely gain something they want by the end.

The emotional climax or whatever of Finn’s largely background arc is quietly admitting that he needs Liz, that her approach might be better than his, and encouraging Inglis’s interest in transparency - an interest that’ll likely have a long-term impact. Finn’s cynicism begins to recede and it’s largely dependent on them; he represents the shifting status quo, he’s an indication that they succeeded in some way. So he’s quite obviously not static and he can’t exist as effectively as an isolated entity therefore, bite me, Digital Spy.