#like they would just make all potential conflict complexities and issues go away.

[chickennuggetdreamland]

god i hate liking genshin bc if i ever had to tell anyone what i like about the game its like. well. it has potential. to be good. if the writers, character designers, gameplay designers, etc etc didnt suck ass.

[rafesangelita]

here’s my take on rafe and sofia…. if they make his character all soft and simple and straightforward it will ruin his whole character!!! rafe is this complex deranged guy with issues and it makes no sense for that all to be resolved because he suddenly gets into this relationship with someone. i also think it’s a bit off character for him to be with a pogue…. i also think that the only reason they added her is to give the viewers the idea of what it would be like to be in a relationship with rafe (cause let’s be real rafe is one of obx main money makers)

i have no doubt that the writers are giving drew a run for his money and doing fan service for us! i’ll make that very clear, because i agree that they don’t know what to do with his character now that ward is dead. BUT as for everything else that you stated, let me go one by one and tell you why i disagree.

“if they make his character all soft and simple and straightforward it will ruin his whole character!!!”

guys.. rafe is STILL rafe. he’s far from being the ‘soft’ guy everyone is making him out to be rn. is he softer? yes. but soft all the way? definitely not. (he literally collided with jj’s bike so the pogue’s couldn’t win the race, he didn’t think anything about the turtle incident and told ruthie ‘good shit!’, now he’s an alcoholic, he was talking bad about sofia behind her back, AND he’s stubborn as a damn horse and would rather have sarah talk to him first..)

“rafe is this complex deranged guy with issues and it makes no sense for that all to be resolved because he suddenly gets into this relationship with someone.”

he still very much has issues. he is still very much deranged. rafe was already changing a little bit in season three (hence the reason why he was out trying to make a deal with the cross for his family!! the only reason why he veered away from that was because ward tried to stay in charge of something rafe was already handling). we still have rafe who doesn’t know about what sofia did behind his back, so there’s that still! this idea that he’s becoming soft SOLELY because he’s in a relationship now is just incorrect tbh. he lost his dad, the main reason for him being a psycho was because he was constantly doing things for ward’s approval, let’s not forget that! ward is gone now, and he wants to have his family together again, i don’t think just because he has sofia he’s acting this way. now he has to form his own life, without his dad (AND mom, sarah hates him, wheezie is with rose and he most likely doesn’t have contact with her) ALL he has is sofia.

“also think it’s a bit off character for him to be with a pogue….”

i think they had a very specific reason as to why the writers wrote this out. conflict aside, sarah herself is a pogue, and i think when the writers wrote sofia and rafe to be together, they were setting up potential for rafe to view the pogues differently. they were setting up rafe to get the perception that pogues aren’t at all what he thinks they are, which also opens up the possibility of rafe and sarah AT LEAST being on good terms.

[maybevillage]

my really really long rant about endwalker

i'm not kidding this is really long. spoilers ahead of course, like immediately upon entry. sorry i sound so angry the whole time

unfortunately for me and for anyone reading this, endwalker is one of those cases where i like/d so much of what happens that the many weak moments make me more critical of the whole than i would be if it was just wholly bad like stormblood, bc it's a waste of potential. a lot of the time the moments i liked would even be happening simultaneously with the things i find so problematic: cheap storytelling decisions, cheap moments that only serve as fanservice or for shock value that only detract from a characters’ pre-existing complexity, poorly done rehashing of elements from shadowbringers, a lot of hollow pseudo-intellectual arguments, rushed and underdeveloped writing in one instance and then meandering wastes of time immediately after….these issues are so consistent that rather than try to break up endwalker's story based on these things, i will just try to run thru the whole thing chronologically and hope i don't get too repetitive. that's why this isn't an essay with some pretense of structure. i'll do my best.

what's crazy to me is i thought endwalker was going to be my second favourite expansion. this was despite not caring about its original main conflict--i thought fandaniel just wasn't a compelling or even interesting villain. he comes out of nowhere. and he's also asahi so that association is hard to break away from bc i find asahi silly. and he suffers from the same writing issues zenos does, where nearly every cutscene with them did little to develop their characters further from the baseline, only reiterated what i already know bc they literally never say anything else: zenos wants to fight wol, he's bored with everything life could possibly offer, fandaniel will ensure zenos can fight wol through his towers bc he no longer plays to the tune of his unsundered masters... even though what fandaniel was promising to cause were the final days i just didn't really care. in the wake of shadowbringers the final days are like a pretty big deal, but something about reviving a catastrophe i had just finished wrapping up--i thought, naively--made bringing them back seem really thoughtless. i don't really need to see anymore final days...like how much more do i need to understand how bad it was? i mean i think shb did a pretty good job????? of making the final days seem pretty fucking bad. why not come up with something new because this is endwalker and not shadowbringers haha? the only fresh thing about this new uncooler final days was the motivation behind them. fandaniel wanting to bring about the final days bc he wants to die and thinks everything should die with him vs emet-selch's unwillingness to die no matter what bc the final days took everything from him and he needs to bring it all back. still, recontextualising the final days from a past event into a present issue ruins them to me. whatever, i thought, there's no way we're letting the final days happen so what does this matter anyways. there's no way.

so yeah post-shb into ew was starting to lose me plot-wise. not the end of the world (LOL?) though bc the atmosphere in the beginning was so subtle and fresh and rich like dew in the morning that i was willing to look past it. going to old sharlayan i liked a lot. i liked going there not as a more typical homecoming for your friends but to instead uncover the sharlayan forum's cryptic behaviour. this kind of intrigue was what i really wanted after the grandness of shadowbringers and i really do think endwalker gave me that for a while. i liked the opening scene on the ship a lot bc it felt exciting and uncertain and new, especially talking to hydaelyn. i liked how she had become such an unstable variable after originally being the most anchoring presence in the entire game: learning she's a primal, whether she's actually “good” after listening to emet-selch’s explanation of her origins and actions in shb, and the fact that her appeals to her champions have been fewer and fewer… i thought her meeting with you at the very beginning of endwalker was cool and foreboding. i also really liked the emet-selch narration btw, i thought that was a fun choice. who better to guide you into the final stages of your adventure than the person who left you with that final, most important task. i wish this had been the only callback to his character at all. 

so a big part of why i like/d endwalker so much is all that atmosphere. and something i can't really put into words. it just felt cool and cohesive at the start. old sharlayan is one of my favourite locations now; i like that despite its rigidity and (to me farcical but w/e tangent) pursuit of rationality/knowledge, there's the quaint island charm and fresh winter sea and overgrown greenery and forest paths. i liked that the game enhanced the usual hubworld tour chore by having g’raha and krile follow you around to give you more personal anecdotes of the place, really gave it a more lived-in feeling, which really added to both them and the location. i also really liked all this charm and familiarity in tandem with the secret hostility of the place bc of the forum, having to sneak around and so on, sharlayan citizens not really recognising you somehow? but being very aware of a warrior of light threat to their way of life, even if i find that non-intervention way of life silly.

i also really liked labryinthos. it's a really creative place. i liked its uncanny false sky and controlled environment, and yet all the people scrambling about inside. and the music felt kind of magical like i had encountered another fairy area or something idk it all felt very whimsical. thavnair i really liked as well but i feel like my immediate impression of the place was kind of poisoned by the stereotypes, like the huge focus on trade and the first impression being undercutting foreign tourists but then i started to really enjoy the part where you run around with matsya and help him sell fish. i liked the mundanity and slow pace of that exercise bc it felt like a much more involved way of learning about thavnair and its current issues through conversations rather than the fetch quest slog, and this is one of the things i like a lot about the beginning of endwalker. the gameplay really improved i think bc they found more creative ways of having you interact with your surroundings, rather than having the usual running between npcs to fetch things for them or other chores. like rather than doing a string of quests and then being rewarded with development of the story, the gameplay simultaneously develops the story. like turning into frogs i thought was fun, testing nidhana’s aether lamp was fun, etc. it felt like they had better ideas about how to progress the in-between parts.

thavnair quickly started to upset me though bc it started to feel like the only relevance the location had was what they could give you for your military cause, that is, the scales. like alchemy is this place’s big highlight and its just the scales the scales the scales and the tower aughhhhhh!!!!!!! the tower!!!!!!!!!! i wish they had focused on something but i guess this is just to be expected with ffxiv...any interaction with a foreign ("foreign" as far as square enix eorzea is concerned) culture really boils down to how they might bolster your military efforts, the azim steppe for eg. so it felt like my concern for an individual (matsya) and the experience firsthand trying to help him with his day to day; the idea that every single person on earth is important and shouldn't be made to suffer, and helping that single person... was like overshadowed by something more focused on a “greater good", that is, the construction of the scales to defeat the towers to save the world ad infinitum. but if you played endwalker then you would know how this idea of only concerning oneself with a "greater good" and this diluting of the importance of an individual's life for the sake of this idealistic whole causes some problems for a certain someone..................so why didn't the game focus more on these themes? probably because at the end of the day it's a video game by square enix and you need a big boss to fight or something or bc this expansion is insanely unfocused i don't know. i feel like this concept about the importance of the small things that can add up to one life and how that one life is beautiful and important crops up with the significance of weeds despite its importance overall. i don't know if i think this is one of the main underlying themes of endwalker just poorly executed so as to not even be there or if i just wish it was one of its main themes. anyways i'm getting distracted, what i mean to say is thavnair gets dehumanised throughout the entire expansion in the most horrific ways possible so i guess this was just the start

moving on... i liked the part in garlemald a lot, which i didn't expect bc i don't expect this game to handle anything regarding imperialism well. i liked that the garlemald you finally experience, after it being one of your main enemies and this very proud nation, was just this dead quiet and ruined place. the quest where you follow that girl is another eg of how the gameplay was a bit more immersive, i think it helped me feel the loneliness and the danger of the place, that i could be a danger to this girl. that i really had to try if i wanted to help her. what i didn't like was alphinaud's and alisaie’s babying attitude towards the garleans? like ok yeah of course we’re gonna have patience and grace for GARLEMALD meanwhile lyse was losing her head at the ala mhigans whenever they disagreed with her. like sure arguing won't get anywhere but it felt like the twins were reckoning with children sometimes, it was so strange. but i did like that the game didn't shy away from making the garleans just unpleasant to be around at best, and an actual danger to you at worst. it's just better to me to make them harder to reconcile with so that there's no frustrating cheap shots at redemption but rather a good, sobering look at a society that's been totally and willingly misled. and i liked that alisaie's and alphinaud's attempts to help those garlean kids ended so badly, even though i'm not usually a fan of such cruel outcomes. it felt like we were seeing a garlemald not necessarily being punished for its actions more than we were seeing a place built on shitty ideals crumble bc of those ideals. i thought jullus was a good char and helped to carry that idea of disillusionment forward. i didn't care so much about sympathising with what he'd lost, but i did find it interesting how they contrast him with the legatus he's working under, who even while the place is in ruins is still more concerned with war than providing for the people relying on him. i don't think the part in garlemald is perfect by any means, like it doesn't do anything too brave, but ig it was a lot more subtle and complex in its storytelling than i expected. and it wasn't meaninglessly cruel. like i'm glad those shock collars put on the twins were only used to gauge jullus' emotional growth or something like him not wanting to activate them rather than them actually being fucking used which would have just made me close the game and not look back.

from here on is where i struggle to lock in for the rest of the story. starting with when zenos kidnaps you in the midst of the fighting at camp broken glass--i don't think i have ever been more immediately mentally locked out of a story. endwalker is darker than usual, trapping people in fleshy towers, two young girls lying dead on the ice, tentacles erupting out of tempered garlean soldiers... and so on. and while i don't personally like things that are overly dark or cruel, it's not that i think they're bad, just that with moments like that it's a lot better imo that a point is being made or they add something to the story, and that it doesn't feel soullessly random or disrespectful. unfortunately this stops being the case for the rest of the expansion..... like something about the weird eldritch feeling of fandaniel pulling you out of your body and putting you in a random soldier's was throwing me off immensely. it felt like i was playing a different game, like so disconcerting i found it distracting, because why would he not just do this to screw you over more often? i didn't understand them having access to such an unrestrained power. at the same time it was also just too wacky to really take seriously despite the apparent gravity of what was happening. zenos inside of my bunny girl's body??? i don't even understand why they did it? to piss you off?? the duty where you play as the imperial soldier was interesting i guess but i couldn’t understand what the meaning behind being made to struggle through that experience was... like didn't we just spend all that time sympathising with the garleans and wrap that section up already? why do i now need to sympathise with/experience firsthand what its like to be a garlean footsoldier? and it annoyed me because these parts felt emotionally rich, like stumbling across those garleans fighting that machine and trying to do your best to help them; dragging yourself across the ground to get to your friends before something bad happens to them, and running towards them before zenos hurts them while in your body--i thought all of that could've been really poignant if not for the actual situation being so silly?? they could have just kept some of those ideas, wol dragging themselves across the ground for eg--the extent to which they're willing to stop harm from reaching their friends (which reminds me of what vrtra says to you about the importance of protecting your friends the first time you meet him. but that was such a one-off moment that goes nowhere... i just wish ew would pick something, anything, to be a poignant message about love on planet earth if they want nihilism to be the main villain, and just stick to it)--and do something that felt a lot more relevant to the established story thus far? just felt totally pointless

what makes this worse is this ridiculous part is iirc right after fandaniel reveals that the entity tempering all of the garleans is varis reanimated as an ancient oh-so-important primal...?? like here's (what i thought was going to be) an actually important point in the story being sidelined for a moment that just goes absolutely nowhere. they certainly made it seem important for a moment, and i think this would've rounded off what was being said about garlemald well; the garleans are so taken in by the farce of their homeland that they think varis is calling them to reclaim their country over the radio, but all along what's actually causing their nation to fall apart is this monstrous version of their late emperor. the irony would've been interesting but they just do nothing with it... (i think desecrating a dead person's corpse by turning it into a monster is really weird btw, even weirder that they do it for no reason. whatever ew is weird.) i thought, considering that this plotline was being established from before endwalker started, that anima was going to take some time. not so. ffxiv would rather have you and zenos enact tropes from a disney channel movie. you merk that guy at the end of the tower of babil and from then on every important plot point the expansion could possibly have moves at fucking mach 567472838758745745

because why all of a sudden are you getting beamed up to the moon? and fighting ZODIARK? i was so confused when asahi i mean fandaniel was punching shit into that fuckgin allagan computer like fandaniel what the fuck are you talking about... i couldn't process anything that happened here. like i'll willingly put aside boring practicalities like why anyone can breathe on the moon, but not so much how fast this all happened and how out of nowhere--is this the reason fandaniel is also amon btw? so that he can use their allagan computers to do this? bc i honestly can’t find any other reason why him being amon is relevant when they revealed that in the tower of zot...like i dont get why that's important

and it doesn't get better after this is the sad thing to me. it doesn't pick itself back up. it is just extremely unfocused right until the endwalker. i was willing to move past getting rid of zodiark so quickly because it's not that i hold standard storytelling rules so dearly in my heart that i need the biggest final boss of the entire series to get a bit more gravitas. it actually ended up being a pretty interesting decision--dispatching the largest villain at the heart of the game being the catalyst for the biggest catastrophe you've ever heard of. like i like that wol gets played. but the entire mare lamentorum section that follows is disrespectful. this expansion suffers from some extreme tonal dissonance, bc how does wol learn that the final days are now upon them and then proceed to spend their time leisurely touring the moon rabbit facility to tell them that the clothes they’ve made for humans to wear isn’t fashionable? why on god's green earth does that matter at this current juncture? this part is one of the worst story-writing sinkholes in the expansion to me, bc why are the discrepancies between what the loporrits know of humanity vs what humanity is actually like something the story chooses to grapple with? we're building an ark to save humanity, and instead of approaching this in a contemplative or emotional way, the point of conflict they choose is logistics? in the expansion about nihilism? at best this conflict was overly realistic..... mostly it's just boring, and at worst the FINAL DAYS are now upon us, so why am i taste-testing carrots? how could the sharlayans, the most focused group of people on the entire planet, have been collaborating with the loporrits for decades and not even have one of the most basic aspects of staying alive squared away? i’m supposed to not only believe that nobody knew after all that time the lopporits think people only eat carrots, but also waste time on fixing this? whyyyyy would they even devote any time to this at all when there are so many more complicated and interesting ideas that they let flounder bc they rush through them at breakneck pace constantly? we just fucking killed zodiark! is this why they stick urianger up there to do all the fixing actually? to save time offscreen? maybe that's why they chose this asinine chunk of the story to start processing his character? though why they would choose to add more to a plate they can barely balance i don't know. i don’t even feel like getting into what they did with urianger bc it will just piss me off. i think only my love for rabbits and how i will never ever not find urianger precious were stopping me from putting a hex on square enix

the following section of the story is easily the worst part to me in the entire game. like i would rather replay stormblood multiple times in a row than ever sit through the final days coming to thavnair ever again. i've already said bringing back the final days would just be bad; a disservice to the time spent on it in shadowbringers. what more is there to say on that front? nothing. and the way ew utilises the final days tells me that the answer is nothing. it just wanted to unleash the violence of that event on the non-white area and spends an insane amount of time doing it. i can think of no other time in this game where there is so much wanton death and destruction for no useful storytelling reason other than to relish in the cheap shock of witnessing violence, violence they are unwilling to inflict on its white areas, because even in garlemald you only see the aftermath of what happens rather than being in the midst of it. it was actually making me feel fatigued. it was just so much of the same thing over and over with no real meaning to any of it. and that's not to say that meaning justifies suffering, but this is a game.....with a story... first and foremost? there needs to be some kind of reason to move the story forward? but nothing new or inspired is being said, just "the final days are really bad"

i’m actually not even sure where to begin so i’ll start with a glaring issue: i hate that people turn into abominations. people “randomly” turning into monsters just feels too unwieldy--how could there be any sense whatsoever that that situation is controllable? even learning that it's caused by feelings of despair is shit because emotions are so vague, how could there be any worthwhile attempt to control your emotions, let alone while watching your loved ones turn into/be eaten by monsters? this entire part felt so wildly out of hand/unpredictable to me that every single moment onward that wasn't more or less focused on maintaining this extremealy volatile situation felt like an unforgivable lack of priorities. it was extremely distracting to have it hovering over everything; everything else felt absolutely inconsequential in comparison. bc what the fuck do you mean people are randomly turning into monsters?? also the stakes were already really high just knowing the final days were coming, so raising them that much higher felt unnecessary to the point of it being hard to believe. and then bc you know there's no way any character important to wol is going to turn into a monster, subjecting commonfolk npcs to this just feels absurdly cruel, and also just made it obvious how much of a cheap scare it all was, bc it can't have any real narrative importance as a result of only happening to random npcs. it was all so blatantly fake-deep. there was no meaning behind them originally being people except for the useless horror of it--the scions still referred to them as monsters to be put down rather than as the people they used to be, just like any other monster in this game. dynamis was more of a retroactive explanation for why people turned into monsters, rather than people turning into monsters bolstering any understanding of dynamis. in shb the sin eaters had some method to them that made them more believable. you fight them throughout the story rather than them just being dropped on you midway through, they helped provide a picture of what kind of world the first was, they were emotional diving boards for characters like alisaie to develop personal goals and so on and so forth... the horror of the sin eaters had a narrative purpose. in endwalker it feels like they didn’t know what to do but wanted to replicate parts of shadowbringers, but didn't know why those parts worked so well bc they're too obsessed with trying to shock their audience. this part just sucked beyond description.

and it just continues to get worse. how can you be the one writing the parametres of a situation and you create something that's literally unmanageable, so that when its only manageable bc you need it to be, it's just so obviously shit writing? my sister described endwalker's writing as really contrived, like when they need something to happen (and that thing is often a really bad idea) they just shove it in there at the cost of keeping their characters in character, or having their story threads--both the interesting ones and the stupid ones--fall totally flat. she says they shortcut the writing. and it's true. for eg, the characters literally don't feel like themselves at times, or get utilised in really moronic ways. like when wol just watches the satrap die, another cheap scare btw he literally gets grabbed an eaten in a way my sis (i was ranting to her a lot about this game ok) described as straight from attack on titan. just gets grabbed and eaten. and this happens to him for such asinine reasons: 1. so that this random asf plot point of vrtra revealing himself as the true satrap can bear fruit. for some fucking reason. i struggle to understand why this is important at all but i guess it's yet another little sideplot that ew just can't seem to resist adding to its already towering plate at the plot buffet, like whatever is going on with urianger and moenbryda's parents/the loporrits, or zenos who now spends most of his time offscreen, or the twins and their father, etc, bc ew likes to waste time 2. so that g'raha (???????????????????????) out of fucking nowhere can have a big boy moment and direct the scions and the people of thavnair in their time of need. what on earth was that scene supposed to be? fanservice? a reminder that g'raha was a leader back in the first? which blows my mind bc mere moments before he had a scene i really enjoyed despite the circumstances, where after a man witnesses his son get turned into a beast and then stepped on by another beast because endwalker is literally jacking itself off to suffering and expects me to be doing the same... g’raha goes up to this man and stops him from panicking and turning into a monster himself. while i don't think any of this should be happening, i thought it was a nice take on his character to have a more sensitive moment in such a harrowing situation. i don't know, have a character demonstrate some emotional skills instead of the usual fighting ones. ofc all of this i thought mere moments before disaster. why was any of this necessary? literally why not just have the satrap, i don't know, take charge of his country when he's needed most, even if he's only been a figurehead the whole time? why let him go out so horribly when he obvious loves his people with his whole heart just so that vrtra can step in without any sort of conflict? i don't understand the focus on vrtra at all

and it actually just keeps getting worse.. the following part where you have to find matsya's friends at palaka's stand was awful. the friends have a newborn baby, so it's obvious that only that baby is surviving bc ew is convinced you don't know how harsh the world is yet. that must be why this part is so long? i'm repeating myself but so many other things that shouldn't be rushed get rushed, only for ew to devote a lot of time to sections like this where nothing changes or develops except for compounding how bad it all feels. i think it was at this point actually, that i realised endwalker actually had some underlying point it was trying to make. it would've been impossible not to realise bc of how heavy-handed it is. i'm not even going to try and paraphrase bc it was so random the way it was introduced i thought i had missed some lines of dialogue or something when it happened:

the suddenness of this felt like when a writer forsakes trying to show what a story is about and instead opts to speak to their audience directly through poorly disguised self-inserts. like i know things are bad right now guys, but the preaching tone of this is jarring. like maybe if you spent some time trying to develop your themes you wouldn't have to be doing this endwalker. i know you need your final villain to literally parrot these ideas for the rest of the game, but if this was supposed to be such a core point of the story why wait all the way until now to just beat me over the head with it? was watching a child be crushed underfoot supposed to make elderly man of palaka using the phrase "at journey's end" seem profound?

anyways then you go and try to save matsya’s friend (the mother bc the father has now died, of course). this leads us to another forced decision that doesn’t make any sense: alisaie and alphinaud fail to kill a single abomination--just the one solitary abomination that was stalking the poor woman--so that we can see it fling her into the water and her corpse dangling on the surface. in what fucking world do alisaie and alphinaud, who have single-handedly dispatched numerous abominations prior to reaching this point, fail to kill just one of them between the two of them in a way reminiscent of a cartoon, one being knocked into the other and them both falling over? how is that fucking possible? and then to somehow make things worse, because that's still possible, despite the fact that wol spends this entire segment in palaka’s stand being told by alisaie and alphinaud not to leave matsya alone because he can’t fend for himself, the twins suggest sending him back on his own to deliver the baby to palaka's stand? why??????????????????????????????

this is what i mean when i say the characters get used in the most bullshit ways for the most bullshit reasons. it's like the game needs as much suffering as possible to happen so that it can make a worthwhile point on this later on (spoiler: it doesn't) so it pulls shit like this. why would the twins, who we just watched try to spoonfeed the garleans cereleum straight from the tank, leave matsya on his own if not solely bc the story needs the doomerism of the Resolute Citizen to ring true? and this is also what i mean when i say the scions try to manage a disaster that is just not manageable, bc they for some reason believe that bc they've taken care of the abominations they saw in the area, that means the area is safe enough for matsya to go back on his own? like are we just suddenly pretending the nature of these creatures doesn't imply that anyone can turn into one at any moment? everyone is ALWAYS in danger? we're just going to mill around while matsya weathers the most potent fear of his life running back to the village on his own, with the baby of his friends who just died moments before, while we all know that extremely negative emotions cause people to turn into the monsters? why are we doing this after we just went to so much trouble keeping people safe (or failing to, really)? forget turning into monsters for a sec, why are we even letting him experience such painful emotions at all? anyways the fucking baby starts turning into a monster because this is endwalker.. but i will say that matsya running and chanting that little piece up there about how life is suffering to try and convince me it's true calm himself down was one of the cutscenes i liked the most from this entire part, maybe endwalker in general. it was another one of those emotionally poignant and well-executed moments that just suffers from how much i wish it was happening under totally different circumstances. i don't even remember why one of us doesn’t go with him, like i don't remember what we were busy doing bc it was that unimportant--no wait, i remember! we were waiting for matsya to reach the total end of his rope so that when all things seem lost, when those monsters obviously show up on his path back to the village out of nowhere like they've been doing the past painstaking quest after quest of this entire part, estinien and vrtra can get this really cool moment of jumping into save him! it all makes so much sense now. i've never seen estinien do anything really cool before like diving down from the sky with his lance, so i understand how this was a really important moment that the game needed to make happen. also how vrtra really needs to prove to the people he can be a good satrap bc ahewann just died and all. yeah, i totally get it. perfect. just great. 

what is the message behind despair turning you into a monster? we're about to get into it with meteion and try to convince her she's wrong--come out championing the idea that suffering is just one of the many aspects of life we need to accept, and yet we're going to preface that with a part where to feel despair is bad? you get punished if you do it? honestly?

whatever. elpis...we go here because we need to learn about the elpis flower. i'm thinking we're definitely just going to ask the watcher, right? like the guy on the moon who told us the name of the flower in the first place? and time is of the fucking essence here, so surely we just go back to the watcher and ask him what we need to know and come back? wrong. we're going back to the first. to talk to elidibus. i thought we killed elidibus? does nobody truly die in this game except for my favourite character? so wol gets sent back to the first, and there's this upbeat tonally dissonant little section where you catch up with some old friends like beq lugg and those kids you helped back in shb bc now is just the perfect time for pleasantries and remembering how good shadowbringers was. ew trying to relive shadowbringers was already something i was feeling out in thavnair fighting leagues of "terminus" creatures and not "forgiven" ones, and watching the carefully constructed horror and gravity of the final days get reduced to an average apocalyptic shitshow. so i can't say i appreciated this part. also people are indiscriminately turning into monsters. i can't help but have that hang over everything constantly until the end of the expansion.

anyways we go to the crystal tower and drag out elidibus even though i personally prefer when characters have their final moments and are properly laid to rest. like i hate to not only beat a dead horse but also reanimate said horse and then drag its corpse around. well fuck what i want. so elidibus willingly does this favour for us i guess and sends us to the past somehow with some useless warnings about how we won't be able to interact with our surroundings or change the past. i say useless because the former is just untrue, i'm not sure why he bothered to say it. the moment we step foot on elpis you get a nice gift of aether from emet-selch that renders you tangible and now you can proceed to live love laugh with him and hythlodaeus on elpis even though people are indiscriminately dying back home. and the latter warning, well. i don't know, that just seemed obvious. i'm kind of just a hater.

time to be positive again for a short moment, if you can believe it? emet-selch is one of my favourite characters. i enjoyed this new light cast on him...for a short while. i like his relationship with hythlodaeus and i really like hythlodaeus; i’m really fond of the faceless simulacrum version of him you meet in shb and i'm really fond of him now. learning about the unsundered world in person rather than through hearsay was interesting, and although i can't lie and say i don't think this all kind of felt like a huge tangent despite the important aspects of the plot that come out of it, i still like it. i guess it feels this way because a lot of big plot points have already been established, like the ark on the moon and the sharlayans' involvement and the final days, so this was all kind of too big to me to be coming this late into the story. it doesn't feel all that relevant to prior parts of the expansion either except for hermes, who has been poorly developed throughout, so okay, i get it. it's time to give one of the main villains some depth (i want you to guess if this is successful or not). hermes has a lot of qualities i really like. has a child, secretly nurturing a potent sadness, thinks differently from the world around him because at his core he’s too deeply empathetic…. even though i was still largely aware of the insanity happening back at home which i'm going to keep repeating, i still enjoyed elpis At The Start. the exposition of this part was easily better than its resolution. it was taking the time to develop hermes’ character so that you could see if the game was written well anyhow how he became the fandaniel of the present. i really liked his relationship with meteion too. it's getting hard to talk about what i like without simultaneously talking about what i don't like so i'm going back to criticising now, positivity over, sorry....

personally, i’d have been totally fine without any more development to emet-selch’s character. i think it was nice to see a fresh perspective on him and all, really rounds out who he is from what you know and what he talks about in shadowbringers. and i actually like a lot of the things he said throughout, not all of it, but a good amount of it was fun and sorely needed whenever hermes was being annoying, which was often. but there was a lot of times wehere i thought, i don't really need to be hanging out with emet-selch right now? i don't need my wol and emet-selch to be friends? considering who he is....? .............and what's going on back home? how many more moments showing how endearingly prickly he is do i need to see? like sure, i can enjoy this emet-selch fest in isolation of what's going on because me love emet-selch like it's not like i think these moments are bad or anything but i don't know, don't we have other things to be doing? i'm not diametrically opposed to fanservice, i like when things are kept fresh and lighthearted. but. well you know by now. about the people turning into monsters. i guess i just both enjoyed this part and wished it happened under different circumstances or in a different way or something, or maybe not at all, bc as things progress his character just gets more and more diluted.

i actually really liked meteion. i will say i’m really tired of non-human, overly childish girl children creature characters who become villains, because i think there's this concept where…idk how to say it? i wish i could find something that talks about this more... it's like the dehumanisation involved when non-binary characters or non-white characters are often not human (not that these things are done in the same way). but i feel like women or females ig are often the ones chosen to be non-human in this particular way...? like, when emotional labour is involved. or when it needs to be some taboo evil entity. it's like a guy and his part-animal female second lead or part-alien love interest or female-voiced ai system or android or abandoned girl he finds/rescues. it's kind of like the born sexy yesterday trope but without the blatant sexuality (i don't want to go on a tangent). quite often this weird quirky alien and playful girl child is a harbinger of destruction. take drakengard, for example, or fire emblem engage, or cc from code geass iirc, or veronica from fire emblem heroes.. there's apparently something about childishness and girlishness and innocence and corrupting that innocence or being fooled by that innocence that seems to incite fear of the unknown enough in people for villainous children to be a trope in general regardless of gender, but it was just something i was thinking about in regards to meteion's character, especially when she becomes evil. and this blurry line between her as a "being" with a consciousness and free well as GIVEN to her by hermes, and her as a "tool" to be used by him as well, doesn't really get addressed in any meaningful way at all. like sure, she doesn't need to eat but she can still enjoy candy apples and flowers, and can empathise bc often of her own volition she wants to cheer hermes up, but actually her ability to empathise is programmed; so let's send send her, this highly empathetic being (with consciousness and free will and tastes and personality) into the cold expanse of space for as long as it takes for hermes to find his answer, that's totally fine. why did he make it a girl? why couldn't they address the fact that the loneliest bastard in this entire game made himself a child? like i'm not saying there needs to be clear-cut definitions on what meteion is or why she or hermes take certain actions, but it feels like a lot of things regarding their characters are really complex and implied to be really deep, and then just don't go anywhere or are completely ignored or unexplained? and because these things are so present yet passed over, it leaves me genuinely confused about most of what happens on elpis and how these two specifically reach any of the conclusions they do once things start going south

like i thought what she and hermes were going to add to the story was going to be a lot more interesting and complex than what it turned out to be.....a banal mantra on the "mercy" of nihilism. i can barely reconcile what bothers hermes in the first place with what meteion concludes from her sisters' expeditions, like they almost feel irrelevant to each other. he's upset over man's lording over who deserves to live and the callousness of making and unmaking life. he feels sadder about the coming death of his friend than the average ancient, and doesn't want to accept meaningless platitudes about dying for the good of the star. ok, i agree with that. so he wants to know what meaning there is to life, if it can be so easily judged and discarded...? okay. so his answer is to....secretly create creatures without any of the rigourous testing they usually go through to prevent them from being dangerous, and then send them on a potentially dangerous and traumatising mission to answer his vague philosophical questions? like.......? so when she reports back traumatised and tells him every single society out there is suffering (which i just find so unbelievable btw), then the answer to his question must be that suffering is the meaning of life--which she figures bc she's an entelechy so i imagine she's highly susceptible to her emotional surroundings, and because his pseudo-intellectual question is so poorly framed (something only emet-selch points out in a throwaway line btw). and this alone spurs him on to allowing meteion to unmake their entire society in the most violent way conceivable? you literally tell him that the final days are coming as a result of his actions, but he's fine with it because he'd rather that than enact some policy changes at his workplace, or talking to someone? everyone seemed to listen and respect his decision when he suggested helping that creature learn to fly instead of just killing it, i'm sure he could've talked it out? isn't he in charge of the place? this entire section was so hard for me to follow bc i kept thinking something more complex was making everyone behave the way they were, when it was actually just totally senseless.

as an aside, i hate how they chose to make the way meteion reports information so cooly technological btw, it felt not only anachronistic but corny. i’m sure there's a better way to have her impartially report things without making her sound like she's reporting weather conditions on some distant planet in star trek. anyways, when you frantically search for meteion after she receives her transmission was another part that took up a lot of time for no reason. it just made everything feel so dire when i could barely understand why any of what was going on was such a big deal. and i’ll never be one to say that any bureau of anything should “detain” anyone, but why hermes was so frantic to prevent meteion from being brought to the convocation i just don't know. like he goes on the run with her so that he can hear the end of her report? is that really it? i just find it hypocritical that he doesn't want her to be sent to the convocation where they'll limit her free will or fucking whatever but he's totally fine with ordering the meteia into space? why am i being made to guess what the convocation is going to do to meteion when hermes is making it seem like such a big deal?? what fucking sense does that make? what on earth was he afraid of? their judgment? the convocation members deciding whether meteion is good for the star or not? could they not have just reasoned this out? aren’t they a "highly advanced" and "reasonable" society? like okay he sees through the veil of his utopian home but i just did not get a sense of how much it was bothering him at all, like i cannot stress enough how him going turbo feels like an insane jump from what his problems seemingly were. why did nobody stop to think this through or communicate to each other? is it because of the bullshit time paradox this game has trapped us in so that nothing we do will amount to anything anyways so we might as well make the most confused villain of all time be responsible for the biggest event in this game's history?

but it annoys me because meteion and hermes felt like such a waste of potential, maybe the biggest waste to me in the entire expansion. i was really intrigued by their wholesome relationship at the start, knowing that hermes was a main villain. and that he can't find connection or meaning in an otherwise "perfect" society, so he has to create it for himself and try to find it elsewhere, as far as the reaches of outer space... he wants to make what's hurting him stop hurting him. i like that he approaches such human desires with meteion despite her non-humanness, and that she can return those feelings to him. he wants to signify meteion’s return with a flower because they both like flowers… like those things we can’t put into words but share with others, moments, emotions, connections……..but nope. nihilism beam. it feels like the worst sort of retroactive writing ever. they didn't even think too hard about dynamis--this hugely important thing, except nobody has ever heard of it, aside from nidhana back at home? while members of the highest office in the most advanced society earth has ever had are left squinting.

and the entire section after you fight hermes just pissed me off. we kicked his ass so that we could stop him from inciting meteion any further, and yet we just let him hear her out anyways? he's yelling at you during the entire dungeon that he just wants the time to hear her out, we're chasing after him so that we can stop him from doing that, and then we just let him hear her out anyways? and then even when we do that she doesn’t even say anything different? she just goes right back to reporting on different worlds and how self-destructive they are and That's All She Really Proceeds To Say For The Rest Of The Expansion But Fucking Who Cares Anymore. so we let her repeat herself. this sends her into a spiral, because she's an entelechy who just got hit by a high frequency nihilism beam, but subjecting her to all that despair is only ever addressed by one of the scions in a throwaway line near the very end of the story in ultima thule... and then hermes...captures venat, emet-selch and hythlodaeus??? he captures two of the strongest characters in the game? did we not just kick hermes’ ass??? what is going on?

emet-selch: that's bullshit, and you know it's bullshit

hermes: *says more bullshit*

i really think hermes might be one of the worst villains in the game. it's a shame bc i think he's such an interesting character. i'm not sure why he started behaving like such an incel when he was right to be troubled by the things he was? why did they even bother have wol relate to him over experiencing sadness from loss if that just went totally nowhere? why does he behave so hypocritically? being saddened by loss leads to him setting the stage for the final days? him hating man's jurisdiction over other lives leads to him wiping emet-selch's and hythlodaeus' memories, and subjecting the entire planet to the worst test ever? he's not even morally grey or anything! just annoying! i saw someone say that it's even worse that he wants the ancients to prove that their life is meaningful to them, bc it's true, they do??? like isn't that what venat interrupts them from doing in the answers cutscene, calling back for that lost life? isn't that what you learn in shadowbringers? didn't an entire half of their population sacrifice themselves so that the other half could live? what the fuck else did they need to prove?

this part was pissing me off even more because i never even wanted hythlodaeus or emet-selch to learn about where wol came from or about the final days coming in the first place. i thought that was an awful writing decision. telling them just felt weirdly cruel to me considering elidibus explicitly told you there was nothing you could do to change it. maybe this is just my opinion, but why would anybody want to know that their planet is going to go up in flames and there is nothing they can do to stop it? telling venat i was like sure, she becomes hydaeyln so this makes a little more sense to me, but the other two…….? this is around when i was getting tired of the emet-selch cameo, because i don't really care to know what he thinks of his future self? i couldn't really understand what the point of any of that was? so it annoyed me even further that it amounts to nothing anyways when they get their minds conveniently erased. it felt like a fucking joke. why did we revive these characters, develop them, and then just treat them like tools...? like now that we're done using their powers and creation magicks--i thought, naively--we just toss them aside? like ohhhhh noooooo now they won't remember all the fun we had on elpis this is so sad......but at least before he got his memories wiped emet-selch, even though he definitely totally doesn't believe a fucking word i say, renews his shb vows to wol and leaves the future in my hands again? yeah, i totally wanted to hear him say that a second time. forget how deeply affecting and important a moment that was at the end of shadowbringers. i really needed to see him do that one more time in this shittier, more contrived context. that's really what i needed from endwalker. also i've been on reddit reading what people have to say about endwalker out of curiosity (ppl make a lot of good points that i haven't) and someone pointed out that moments before all this happens venat literally pulls memories from the aether around you so that we can watch hermes send the meteia to space. what on earth is stopping anyone from doing that for hermes, hythlodaeus, and emet-selch? but whatever, i already know the writing doesn't care how silly it is anymore. two of the strongest ancients get bound by a weakened hermes, only break out after the story conveniently needed meteion to start flying into space, and then venats lets her escape somehow even though doing so essentially dooms their entire planet. ok

so we’re back home and we have to go immediately help the thavnarians who are being punished for not being white again. the sharlayans were going to bring them to the teleporter to the moon in garlemald to start getting them on the moon, but oops, the final days have come to garlemald, so now we can't use the teleporter, so if you're thavnarian your life sucks. who saw that coming? absolute waste of time. so then we have to get rid of more beasts because we need to waste even more time doing something we already spent an agonising amount of time doing in thavnair. and then immediately after this we need to......wrap up yet another asinine plot thread endwalker is so obssesed with adding to it's already convoluted story: fourchenault excommunicating his children...? it seemed really important when he did this in post-shb, but materially nothing for alphinaud or alisaie really changed, everyone still gets into sharlayan no problem. ultimately i just didn’t really know why they chose to pursue this mini-plot at all because how many more pushes does alphinaud (i'm saying alphinaud bc he does not share that spotlight with alisaie lmfao) need to become resolute in his goals? he already does this throughout the series? they ruined arenvald's legs in post-shb so that alphinaud could become more resolute in his goals, why keep dedicating time to this? just keep juggling endwalker, just keep juggling. anyways we’re in garlemald, we calm the final days for now, zenos shows up out of nowhere to remind us he’s still in the game. and to be fair to him that was one of the most interesting cutscenes he’s had the whole time, and, get this--they have him randomly answer hermes' question? about the meaning of life? while talking to jullus? like jullus gets mad at him for not giving a fuck about causing what happened to garlemald, and zenos responds by saying: "ask any creature of this star and those above for answers, and they will tell you what suits their fancy. and they would be right to do so. what meaning there is to be found in the petty vicissitudes of your existence must be gleaned by you and you alone." like......? he just provides the answer right there in a conversation with jullus? did this expansion have any interest at all in putting any of its different parts in conversation with each other, or are we supposed to just try and build a good story like a puzzle, where the pieces, albeit interesting, don't actually fit together? weren't zenos and fandaniel working together at the beginning of the expansion? he should have just posed this question to zenos because the answer was apparently right fucking there, with the flattest character in the entire game, this whole time? whatever, i still liked this scene. alisaie putting a curse on zenos was very cool of her. so we're back in garlemald and....….tonal dissonance! puddingway shows up. cute scene where g’raha’s ears perk up also bc he's the one who hears the loporrits coming. just in case you forgot about g’raha, which is an oxymoron. and then maybe the second worst segment of endwalker...........we go back to labryinthos. 

now i love labryinthos. i thought it was interesting we only collected one aetheryte the first time we were there, and i was hoping the place would be as intriguing to me as it first was when we got back. admittedly learning that the sharlayans' secrecy only amounted to contributing to the moon project was kind of a let down, but i thought maybe there was still more to it. i mean, an ark to the moon? the abandonment of one's home planet? it's not like the ideas aren't there. let's go back to elpis for a second. one of the moments that really stood out to me during that part was a throwaway line that emet-selch says to wol after hermes starts freaking it:

he's right. i don't think hermes found society so truly beyond help that he couldn't turn to any one of his peers for help before devising such a reckless plan. but i'm not trying to rehash my issues with hermes, more that i think an interesting parallel could have been made, possibly, with the ark flying to the moon as currenlty the most viable solution to the final days problem? challenging this notion of just throwing it all away as a last resort? especially because it's so obvious to me that by the end of this expansion nobody is actually going into space to start a new life out there; trying to sort out living accomodations and acquaint the lopporits properly with earth is just a waste of time. so why not pose the underlying question of the entire expansion, about what makes life meaningful, to the last bastion of hope in the entire universe--the sole planet amongst millions of dead stars that still believes in itself? would it not just be free real estate to try and connect this story's multiple parts together by ...connecting this story's multiple parts together? the scions say repeatedly how much they'd prefer to protect their planet rather than leave it, and everyone on earth vouches for you because they don't want to leave, either. could they not have made a connection in some way between that ark and the meteia's voyage to outer space? could the writing not have turned around and asked the actual inhabtants of the planet of that we've helped and saved and laughed with and broken bread with or whatever the fuck what they think about the meaning of life, now that they have to leave that life behind? i guess fucking not??? i guess endwalker would rather only highlight civilians when they're being turned into abominations to drive home the same points about life = suffering constantly, and not the points about how despite the suffering life needs to be lived? because they don't actually seem to care about challenging meteion's nihilism when that can just be lazily solved by beating her up at the end. hermes could have been learning to love the world he was on, the smaller things that make it beautiful. because that's what he does, he creates this creature that is built to understand him, and it does and it shares these small joys with him. but nope, time to waste time doing fetch quests in labryinthos. find every single researcher who is obviously losing their mind with stress in labryinthos and give them their government-assigned lopporit while this hectic music with only one minute's worth of loop value plays in the background. go and deliver these papers with alisaie and alphinaud bc if you do a former friend of their father’s will tell them that their father actually loves them duh that’s why he disrespects them publicly every chance he gets. go follow one of the lopporits around while they sample fruits so that they can learn to make food other than carrots. go and watch urianger reconcile with moenbryda's parents even though she died all the way back in a realm reborn. fuck you. also everyone is still just a bad day away from turning into an abomination. just in case you forgot.

that shit where asahi shows up to take fandaniel away for the final time might be top three most bizarre scenes in all of final fantasy fourteen btw. i almost didn't want to mention it, but i need it on record how silly i thought that was. we are in the final stages of this expansion and it still can't stop wasting time. did we see ardbert's thoughts on elidibus using his body? no. but asahi was who they chose to get upset about this? ok.

i liked the trial against mother. you might have noticed i've had very little to say on venat this whole time. that might just have to be its own post or something if nobody is sick of me by now. but anything to do with working together with your friends to overcome a trial is good.

that's what i liked about ultima thule. at the same time, this is where the game finally just loses me forever. i think, somehow, even despite all the things i didn't like, the way the story is told i still enjoyed, even if what it was saying was often. bad. there's still a lot of moments i really liked despite it all. but after ultima thule i was just done. we get on the ark. great. i like that things don't go as planned because meteion intercepts our ship. but now meteion is finally here, which means it's finally time for me to reckon with the pseudo-intellectual nihilism she's been touting every chance she gets. it's hard for me to suspend my disbelief that every single society out in space wanted oblivion, but if that's what endwalker wants me to believe for the sake of its story making sense (oxymoron) then fine. ok. but that's all that's ever said. "life is suffering" "life is suffering" "the final days are really bad"

just the same pseudo-intellectual browbeating about how living just leads to constant strife and the most beautiful thing to do is to just end it all for everyone ever again. like sure, empath hears death cry repeatedly--i can see how meteion could change so permanently. i think that's fine. i doubt that's why she's so repetitive. i genuinely just 't think there's nothing anyone really had to say on this. and the thing is, we've heard this argument before? the idea that humanity is imperfect so they don't deserve to live? it will all amount to nothing, so why let it continue to exist? these are major points of conflict from shadowbringers because it's what emet-selch was always saying. the difference is that emet-selch is just an easily more interesting and fleshed out character whose arguments are largely more complicated, even if they're just as morally wrong. like it's extremely easy for me to answer whatever meteion is saying with a resounding no. and while i feel that emet-selch can also be easily disagreed with on what he believes, bc i do disagree--he at least introduces ideas that complicate the story and his own character. he challenges the scions on their hatred of primals--their god is a primal. he offers visions of a world where nobody has to struggle ever again, where strife doesn't exist, and so on and so forth. while that doesn’t justify his actions, nor do i think they should, i think he at least gives the characters something to think about. he throws their own actions back at them. why would the scions not want a world without suffering? when emet-selch asks alphinaud if he believes half of the sundered world would give up half of their number to save the other half, alphinaud is unable to answer because he knows that the answer is no. i don't think humanity should be tested, let alone with such an insane standard, but i at least think that the questions being asked in shadowbringers were interesting. there's a point to them. with meteion, all she basically says to the scions is that she’s going to fucking kill everyone they know and love in the worst way possible. nothing to chew on that wouldn't better be solved by just getting rid of the threat. i don't know why they even bother arguing with her ever. she doesn't even feel like a character to me in that last section of the game. and they keep trying to have her seem all scary by having her get really close to the screen or move around without warning which is all very silly to me. i at least did like how much of a threat she was, and the way thancred vanished, and then everyone finds themselves in that dark area in front of the ship wondering where he is while the ultima thule music plays for the first time, distantly and quietly. i actually really liked that part. i thought it was really moving. i wish it had stayed that way.

the first area of ultima thule was the best part imo. i liked the immense darkness and quiet and lack of wind and the foul air and  yet, green grass. i liked the strange horror of being the only person at first who could really see the dragons, and then learning that estinien can see them too. i liked how that was the segue for his sacrifice. having those "final" moments with a specific scion each time until that climactic moment that pushes the group forward i really liked. i liked that thancred was no longer with them but still with them, a presence over them keeping them safe from harm. i found that very touching. but i was actually really confused while going through ultima thule becuase of how they visually shows what happens, like while the swirling vortex each scion would stand in was cool, and then standing to face off against that dark bird, i think what those things actually represented i just did not really understand what was actually being done or going on. i think that might be because dynamis suffers a bit from being just too nebulous or underdeveloped. i don't mind how abstract of a concept it is, i mean aether is used to do all sorts of never-explained things all the time.. it's more like... if ultima thule is going to be a place ruled by emotions, with laws different from what the scions are used to, it's hard for me to see how they were able to really draw any conclusions about where they were or what to do. it actually kind of reminded me of the logic of jojo's bizarre adventure where an attack only overrules another attack not becuase of some fundamental power scale the reader understands, but bc of what araki feels like contriving to get the story moving the way he wants. and that's fine because it's jojo. but this is ffxiv, so in my mind ultima thule should have either remained abstract and they don't try to explain the rules of the place so much, or they should’ve just made what was going on less abstract if they were going to try to logic the place out

what i mean is: the scene where estinien argues with that dragon so that he can overcome its despair is really cool. i liked that he turned into a cool wind. i liked that your friends sacrificed themselves for the sake of their home, that the power of their hopes for wol to overcome this final challenge was the only way they could move forward in such a stagnant place, as well as the only way they could be protected by meteion's violence. but after estinien does it--and he admits that he doesn't know how, just that it was the right thing to do--it feels like the writing immediately tries to specify what's going on so that there's some easy way forward the scions just have to follow the rulebook for, so that they can get to meteion. when urianger takes wol and g'raha aside i was actually just so lost. i don't know what it was i wasn't getting. i still don't. like to kind of say that there’s always one "individual" in these fake worlds who is despairing more than the others that can be located if they just identify a certain set of behaviours... this kind of just waters down what the scions are doing and the magic of being at the universe's end or w/e to me. we use language because of our inability otherwise to really express the depth of emotions and sensations that exist in this world, not the other way around--trying to box in something so complex through things like processes and so on...so to try and narrow down this part kind of rung a bit hollow to me. it was somehow both overexplained and underexplained at the same time. this might seem kind of nitpicky but i guess it was just hard for me to enjoy ultima thule when i was genuinely confused almost the whole way throughout. and bc the ea and the omicrons were so goddamn annoying. trying to do this slapdash learning about their societies at the very end of the game was just like...? okay? why bother, all they really care about is dying anyways. and then that final dungeon, ew's final attempt at replicating the wins of shadowbringers (the amaurot dungeon) with meteion's voice over. like who cares now meteion, you are somehow still just repeating yourself. endwalker is almost at it's end girl, i get it. everyone wants to die.

where i actually started to get annoyed though was where y'shtola says in no uncertain terms not to use the retcon crystal hydaelyn gave you to call their spirits back. y'shtola, you shouldn't have bothered, because you know wol is going to do absolutely that. why even have her say it? there is no sense of risk whatsoever because that crystal is involved. i still liked the sacrificing, but maybe they should have framed it in a way where it wasn't obvious that the scions were going to be totally fine. ew literally didn't seem ballsy enough to kill all of the scions, and i don't think it should've either. but then it just makes this all very wishy-washy. and even worse was when wol used it to summon HYTHLODAEUS AND EMET-SELCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY!!!!!!!! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?????????????? i was so annoyed. i'm still annoyed. back when their memories got wiped hythlodaeus was like oh yeah by the way emet did you know that in the aetherial sea you can get your memories back haha? and i was like okay cool so when they die they can get their memories back, whatever, still don't think me and emet-selch should've been live love laughing on elpis. i didn’t actually think this game would be so juvenile as to let you get to meet them once more with their memories fully intact. i don't know why ew has to dot every i and cross every t and sign off every single bit of intrigue with the biggest fucking full stop The End ever where emet-selch is concerned, holy fuck man. i hated this decision so much. your friends SACRIFICE THEMSELVES so that WOL can face meteion. they believe that at the very end of everything, hydaelyn believes that at the very end of everything, WOL is the one who can defeat meteion. they all put so much faith in you. and the first thing you do is summon emet-selch and hythlodaeus because what? because you just can't fucking help yourself? just shit all over the importance of carrying your friends’ beliefs in you. christ i hated that. i loved seeing the elpis flowers grow all over that fake sun. why couldn't that have been wol who grew them, wol's turn to use dynamis to overcome meteion's despair, flowers that represent the hopes every single person on earth has placed in them to see their star to safety? why? emet-selch there for what? to set in stone his position as the Tsundere once and for all? is that it? to have him renew his vows to wol for the millionth time just in case you forgot that he wants you to take up the mantle of their future? i wish they would go back to never making emet-selch palatable and less hostile to the warrior of light, it feels like such a disservice to the character he was in shadowbringers and to just their characters in general like i do not want to be canon friends with emet-selch! it's not necessary! it's fucking emet-selch! what's even worse is that for some reason while the flowers are growing, emet-selch is just point blank explaining what's going on. he literally says something like, "these flowers are the hopes of everyone meteion you're washed. by the way, if you didn't catch that, wol. you can summon your friends back now." immersion gone. any sense of playing a game that actually gives a fuck gone. so we call our friends back, only to send them away again with the teleporter because meteion is just too strong for us. to be fair i liked that decision, but why fake me out a second time having me think yes, finally wol is going to face meteion ON HER OWN. and then have ZENOS show up? i actually just stopped playing and went to bed. genuinelly just fuck me. who fucking cares anymore.

and then after you finally get meteion to stop being emo and she offers to reconcile with you by sending you safely back to your friends it's like, actually i can't even accept this meteoin. because i have to go fight zenos now. and then it's crazy to me that after you kick zenos' ass for like the millionth time, we're literally on the edge of the world so i'm finally expecting him to say something worth listening to, he opens his mouth and says "you know, wol, this whole time... i've been so bored... and the only thing that gives me joy is fighting you...” like. stuck record. the writers dragged him all the way out here to be a stuck fucking record

i like endwalker btw. kind of. like i know nobody who reads this is going to believe me but i really do. if it had just, well. i don't even know. there's too much wrong with it. it wastes too much time and just doesn't seem to be able to let go. how is it possible that an expansion can make me tired of callbacks to haurchefant being important to wol? i've never felt that before. like how many more flashbacks to his grave does one need to have to know that when wol is fighting for their world they're fighting for their friends too. but this game just cannot let things go. it NEEDS to make that joke about alphinaud gathering firewood four more times. it makes anything i appreciated the second or maybe even the third time just upset me. they can't let anything go, they have to wave it in front of me like it's a dog treat and i'm a dog. a fucking dog with blonde hair and blue eyes

[thesquishypenguin]

For general stuff, 6 9 and 12! >:))

tyty ily mwuah mwuah Ship Questions redux

KiloHertz (OC) x Maxime Le Mal (Cannon)

General - 6 - How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

ooooo I'm finding this one a little tricky to think about!! Particularly because so much of kHz attitude is altered by her own choice! I think initially she she comes across as distant, disinterested, cold and judge-y. She's not at all interested in people generally speaking. KiloHertz is very..'strictly business' and doesn't tend to get close to people unless she takes a particular special interest in them, which is hard to achieve with her. But a lot of this is a learned or put-in-place façade that she's just settled into. She's very good at being persuasive, demanding and downright scary - She commands respect through power I think. I don't think Maxime would have that kind of sway on people or not in the same vein, I think he'd be 'nicer' about it. He's more of a charmer. Maxime is VERY much a people person, he's extremely outgoing and charismatic and I think he could wrap most people around his finger - at least superficially and in the moment. People seem to love him and gravitate towards him...(or..he simply inserts himself into their spaces!) These bitches do both be giving off the 'I'm better than You' vibe tho. kHz has a complex about being better than others and Maxime earned it through being 'everybody's favourite' So really they've got GREAT power couple vibes!

BOTH of these idiots are MASSIVE hot heads though. Which means they're also likely to be super fiery and stubborn towards each other when one of them starts getting mad about something-or-other. I think one of them also being in an irritable mood tends to make the other irritable. I can see them having a lot of bickering and spats over miscellaneous shit or when one of them says or does something that manages to tick the other off - but I like to think they both know they don't really mean it, and there's a lot of making up (and making out) afterwards when they've cooled off. Although it doesn't happen often, they know they've struck a nerve or gone too far when the other goes silent about it and starts avoiding them to avoid more conflict. That being said I think a lot of it isn't too serious and probably only happens on occasion - likely stemming from someone's bad day.

General - 9 - Who gets jealous easier?

This has GOT to be Maxime! I feel like kHz has the potential to be..but I also feel like she's dealt with and gotten over her crush on him once, and knowing how popular he is/was it's not really a concern of hers, she expects it. If he was the kind to obnoxiously flirt with other women or something perhaps, but if Maxime's in a social setting he spends half his time bragging about her. So she feel pretty secure with him to be honest, even if he is a socialite!

KiloHertz however is a little underhanded and will employ a little flirting if it gets her what she wants. not that it comes up really all that often. I think it's more that her work has the potential to take her away from him for hours. He'll get jealous that she's spending more time with her equipment and machinery than she is him. He'll get jealous if she's interacting with the roaches more than him ('Cute little bug?' No, No! That's him! He's the cutest bug here! Say sweet things to him!!) She often has to go visit clients which can take a long time to get things sorted out before she can come back to...then spend all her time doing work for said client. Maxime gets very pouty about not being doted on constantly. Why busy her hands with machinery when she can busy her hands with him!

It's not really a jealousy out of insecurity of their relationship, more just ..he wants all her attention for himself!! But I think Maxime*is* the more likely of the two to have insecurity issues based on my HCs, I think he worries about the relationship stagnating into nothing (again) - and he sorely hopes another villain wont catch her eye more than he currently does....

KiloHertz is only really likely to be jealous or worried if something actually happens, which isn't likely. If someone else starts flirting with Maxime however? You bet your ass she's pushing them aside ASAP.

General - 12 - Do they hide anything from each other, big or small?

I feel like kHz is the biggest culprit of this one. I don't really think Maxime hides much, if anything from her. I wanna say he's pretty open about what he's feeling or what's going on because he knows she'll soothe him and make it all better. Early/Pre-relationship maybe in the sense that he's hiding his body and reluctant to show it off, but not/nothing during the relationship. I don't think either of them hide anything in the malicious sense! There's no like 'bad secrets' or unmentionable things or anything. I think if Maxime is going to hide anything from her its probably things like gifts and little pleasant surprises he has in store for her :) kHz whole thing however is masking to be the 'best' version of herself possible, whether that's with her implant or without. She doesn't like appearing weak or stupid at all, so she's the one most likely to hide if she's having problems of any kind. Which she does and is, because her implant is a fickle thing. A lot of what she WOULD hide is relating to herself and her feelings and her health, because she's extremely stubborn about all of it; even if she knows Maxime worries or would be upset that she won't share her problems with him. (For references sake, I think she's rather fooled herself with the implant. Having it off or on doesn't really change who she is, but she seems pretty convinced she's inferior in all regards without it. And I think Maxime thinks she's absolutely crazy for having such thoughts and burdens she refuses to share with him...particularly when he's bared his own to her and she's made better for him..why would she not think he could or would do the same for her???)

[kurokoros]

I hate complaining about Billy Hargrove because it gives off the impression that I don’t like the inclusion of morally ambiguous characters. And that’s not the case. I like S1 Steve because I think there’s complexity to be explored under the stereotypical 80s jock that the Duffers gave us. I like Doctor Brenner because he’s a manipulative piece of shit and the series wouldn’t function the same without him. I really enjoy Billy’s inclusion in the series in S2 and think he had a lot of potential to act as a foil to Steve and even Jonathan, to a degree. 

What I don’t like is how canon really tries to overcorrect in S3 or how the fanon attempts to read into subtext that either doesn’t exist or blatantly contradicts the subtext that does exist.

“The Hargroves are poor, so the hate against Billy is classist in nature.” But there’s no evidence to suggest this. Billy drives a nice car. We’re never shown the Hargrove/Mayfield family struggling for money in S2-3 like the way the show gives us proof that the Byers are struggling financially. That’s a core part of Jonathan’s character, it’s not a part of Billy’s. Despite watching Stranger Things several times, I’ve never once gotten the impression that Billy and Max were anything less than regular middle class.

“Billy isn’t a ‘good victim’ and that’s why people dislike him.” Until S3 there was no real indication that Billy was being abused on the regular. In the scene with Neil, Billy is snarky and makes it clear that Max isn’t his responsibility. That doesn’t make what Neil does any less deplorable, but it also doesn’t give the impression that Billy is all too afraid of talking back or pressing buttons. Parenting was different in the 80s. From personal experience, I know that there are a lot of 80s kids that are very cavalier about being physically abused for being disrespectful. For all we, the audience, know, Neil hitting Billy isn’t a regular occurrence. It doesn’t make it less shitty, obviously, but I do think that fanon attempts to make Billy’s home life more tragic than it actually was. Canon also does something similar in S3 to make Billy more sympathetic before his death, but I don’t find Billy’s writing in S3 to be very good. He’s possessed the entire time. He barely, if ever, interacts with Max, Steve, or Lucas--the three characters Billy should have been interacting with--and instead all of his interactions are with Karen Wheeler and El. It’s not a bad thing to have certain characters be sympathetic, or even empathetic, towards Billy, but the show completely ignores the conflicts between Billy, Steve, Max, and Lucas in S3 in order to make people upset about his death, rather than satisfied or plain apathetic.

I have issues with the way some people try to write off Billy being racist towards Lucas. Namely, that they try to pass it off as Billy actually just being protective of Max. Billy threatens to run Lucas, Mike, and Dustin over with his car just to fuck with Max before he has any indication that they know each other more than happening to be in the same class. There are a lot of Billy-centric meta that tries to argue that actually Billy is trying to keep Lucas away because it would make Neil go after Max, but I feel this gives far too much credit to Neil while taking responsibility away from Billy. Billy probably did get his opinions from Neil. That would make sense. But we have no reason to believe that Billy doesn’t just hold the same racist beliefs and that’s why he goes after Lucas. Attributing Billy’s behavior to an attempt at protecting Max is just willfully ignoring what’s actually happening, in my opinion. Not everything is actually subtext. Sometimes people really are just shitty without having covert motives behind their actions. Personally, I think that makes Billy more of an interesting character, with potential for growth, than if he was actually just trying to protect Max. It adds a layer of complexity, as shown in S4.

I also have issues with how the Max/Billy conflict is resolved in S2. I think the Duffers leaned too far into giving Max a cool girlboss moment instead of just allowing her to be a scared child. While it was fine to have Max try to stand up to Billy, I think the sedative being there was too convenient, and I think Billy proceeding to leave Max alone after that incident was wishful thinking.

TLDR: I think Billy is an interesting character, but the fandom and canon tries too hard to make him more tragic and less shitty than he actually is.

[mastcrmarksman]

Okay, part 1 Clint's Steve Rogers daddy issues as well as the fact that Clint is made to look like a brother of Steve. Let's first establish why Clint has these issues.

On the father side; including both added canon and retconned canon.

Harold Barton, was a verbally and physically abusive drunk/alcoholic.

Alcoholism is a condition that is somewhat genetic. aka Clint has a predisposition, and that plays some part.

( solo avengers 1987, fractions' run 2012, avengers dissambled 2003-ish aka avengers vol 3 for source examples )

An unnamed foster "father" situation was strict and implied to be abusive, verbally and potentially physically

( all new hawkeye 2015 for source is an added canon / retcon )

Jacques Duquesne aka Swordsman while posing at better than Harold Barton, since he wasn't a drunk and would not lay a hand on Clint while he was a child, was not a good influence upon Clint; repeatedly told him that he could not surprised his mentor or else he will be sorry; when Clint finds out that Swordsman has been stealing from the circus, he threatens and attempts to kill Clint. Results in Clint, who still had to have been a minor at the time, having two broken legs.

( solo avengers 1987, avengers spotlight 1989, avengers #65, and earlier avengers issues )

Buck Crisholm aka Trickshot, equally like Swordsman, was a mentor to Clint while additionally be a bad influence and negative example of what a guardian or parental figure should he to a child. Trickshot was a drunk. Trickshot liked killing and inflicting pain. When Clint, refuses to run and abandon his brother he just shot by accident, Trickshot betrays him and shoots him by pinning him to a tree with two arrows and threatens to kill Clint one day when he's ready.

( solo avengers 1987, avengers spotlight 1989, Hawkeye 2004, etc )

Trickshot and Swordsman legitimately admit to having groomed Clint, to having wanting to train him to be their minion and a tool for them to use, someone to be an accomplice in their crimes and their personal underling, each have shown that they will take their promise to not hurt Clint the moment he does something unacceptable

Now onto the brother side of things ;

Barney Barton as you know him in Fractions ina retcon the sweeps under and does not clean up or reveal the decades worth of complex canon surrounding Clint and Barney

First off, while Barney is his older brother and was a protector of Clint against his father, and is equally a victim himself and that some of these is not to fault him

When they were orphaned, Clint describes how Barney would make him and trick him to his chores and generally be the boss of him, and to quote Clint "my brother would take out his frustrations on me"

Clint did not want to run away, it was Barney, and he felt he had to follow since they were family

Barney was jealous of Clint's skill and talent with archery and the favoritism he received from Trickshot and Swordsman

Barney abandons Clint a few times as a result of this

When Clint wrongs Swordsman (discovers a crime Swordsman has a committed) despite Swordsman attack and injury he inflicted on Clint, Barney is more concerned with being angry at Clint for not seeing the opportunity to get in on Swordsman's schemes; he abandons Clint at the hospital

When Trickshot is around, while Barney is trying to persuade Clint that Trickshot is not someone to look up, he ultimately abandons Clint again and let's his brother fall to Trickshots schemes and when Clint injuries him, it is implied that Barney takes off after this

( all above from solo avengers 1987 and hawkey 2004 )

Additionally, in a few retcons, there is the conflict of the brothers never being on the same side, such as the story of Barney asking Clint to leave the circus and go into the military with him, but Clint refuses and implied bitter fallout due to this

Okay, so Barney dies, when Clint is with the avengers and he does die saving the Avengers, but here Clint finds out that Barney had been involved with a crime organization and Clint is distraught because he never got to resolve any of this with Barney

( avengers #64 & #65 )

A later retcon, will give Barney post-mortem, a redemption in a letter and will reveal to Clint that he had actually been a secret agent infiltrating the crime org, which does drudge up Clint's guilt and grief over Barney again, as well as, Clint retells how he and Barney were always going separate ways

( hawkeye 2004 )

Barney gets resurrected by Baron Zemo, and Barney would come back to life, bitter and angry, with a desire to kill his brother Clint and took up the villain mantle of Trickshot

( hawkeye: blindspot, new avengers vol 2, dark avengers )

While once again, Barney was a child and a victim, as well as an implied alcoholic himself. He knew drinking his father's alcohol was wrong, and he still drank it, ans despite knowing it was wrong, he'd allow for Clint to try as long as he spat it out. Additionally, teaching Clint to fight back, he did kick / hit him without warning than tell him to fight back

( fractions' run 2012 )

Orphanage time ; it is implied that Clint would be knocked around and "taught to fight" by the older boys of St. Ignatius Home for Orphaned Boys

( avengers forever 1998 I believe )

[ and my gripe with fractions is that kind of sweeps all of the barney canon under the rug and shows no aftermath or resolution between them after the whole death and trying to kill Clint things ]

That is where Clint's daddy issues and brother issues come from, his complex to male authorities figures. In a other post, I will try to go into some detail about Steve and Clint. With panels and sources / comics to look up and read.

The point being is that when he meets Steve, he rebels and Steve is the one who does end up tempering that, becomes the one male authority figure to which Clint respects and more importantly respects Clint back.

Steve is his true mentor, his big brother, his father, in a way. He stands for a lot and puts a lot of faith in Clint, and in return, Clint eventually has the exact same with Steve.

[dirtytransmasc]

You said in your hcs post how gnarly the Custad battle for spider will be, I don’t think it will be that bad since I’m sure the sullys wouldn’t care that bad as long as spiders not turning against them

I think it would be really nasty case both parties have been at odds for so long (but also not really at the same time, like Quaritch is a resurrected enemy, so the way time is measured with them is so weird) and their wounds runs so deep.

Jake would probably be unwilling to let Spider go to Quaritch cause he can never fully forgive him, even if he redeems himself. Jake's trauma has caused him to reactive towards any threats, real, fake, or potential. Quaritch will, most likely, never not be a threat to him. he would be more than willing to keep spider away from him if it meant his family would be safer. Neytiri would not want spider around if he went with Quaritch but knows that her kids would not likely hold some sort of animosity towards her if she sent their friend/brother away. The kids all have different feelings towards spider and would react differently to the whole situation; Kiri would be po'd about it, Spider is her closest friend, and understands what it's like to not have your birth parents (even if he got one back, he's know that pain for 16 years), she would want to keep him close. Lo'ak, in the case of losing Neteyam, would probably flip; not only is he losing another brother, but he's losing him to the man responsible for his brother's death. In the case of him not losing Neteyam (so canon divergence), he's still losing a brother and friend. He knows that this is gonna rip the family apart, and that scares him (that kid has to have anxiety and attachment issues after their childhood). Neteyam would feel slightly betrayed; he's only been taught to know Quaritch as the bastard that destroyed his home, and he can't see him any different, even if this clone of the one who hurt his family, is doing everything he can to better himself and make up for the suffering he and his original self has caused. Tuk being the youngest, would have the hardest time understanding it; all she wants is her brother, and she knows her parents don't like Quaritch, so she would feel so conflicted and confused.

Long story short, Spider going with Quaritch, no matter the circumstance, would feel like betrayal in one way or another. Jake is too protective, Neytiri has so much trauma tracing back to that man (she couldn't let Spider go to him and come back, but she can't take him away from his siblings, no matter her feelings for him), and the kids are strung between their parents and their brother.

Quaritch, on the other hand, just wants his kid. He's desperate to have his kid. I feel like if he risks everything to redeem himself, and he doesn't at least get to have Spider, he will lose it. One person can only handle so much mental weight before they snap; leaving the company that has controlled so much of your life, are basically war-armed gods, and now have a very good reason to kill, is already a lot to bare. But if you add the fact of being kept away from the one thing you gave it all up for, you'd go a little crazy. I could see Quaritch turning to rage, and desperation, much like Neytiri had.

It would not be an easy transition, no matter how it happens, at least not at first before trust is built.

also jake is kinda petty, in like, the dad way (if that even makes sense), so I could really see that tendency to be hypocritical and overbearing coming out in this situation; like, despite never being a good father to spider (more like a shitty owner at this point) he would act as though he was better for Spider then Quaritch. Despite accepting Quaritch as an ally, or at least not an enemy, he feels entitled to keep his son from him.

There's also the whole son for a son thing if we look at this from a canon standpoint.

basically, things would be very complex and chaotic, at least at the very beginning, but things getting any better would be a long and rocky road that may go untravelled.

[wc-confessions]

Hey there, moderator. I'm wondering if it's fine to ask you questions about your own warriors opinions? Such as:

favorite or least favorite character, ship, book, or arc

any unpopular opinions? something you like that most people dislike, or something you dislike that most people like

what your ideal warriors rewrite looks like

any ocs you would like to share

other people are always sending in their opinions so i'm curious about your own opinions. I apologize if you have answered some of these questions already and I didn't see

oooh thank you for sending these! i’ve actually answered most of them before in the past but as i’ve said my opinions change a lot, esp regarding favourites, so i’m always going to answer differently lol

my favourite character is tigerclaw. i don’t care what anyone says, early warriors he was a good, complex villain and every other villain after wishes they were as good as him. he had a lot of potential and i really hate how in tpb there were a lot of throw away concepts, particularly regarding his character. least favourite off the top of my head is hmm jayfeather. interesting character but his awful personality and the fact that in the end he doesn’t actually do anything major made me lose interest in him. i love him in fanon tho.

worst ship: nightheart/sunbeam makes me vomit atm. i’m a big shadowsight/sunbeam fan rn they are so gay. tnp was a pretty boring arc but had interesting ideas, and i think pot wasnt very good at all but i think the characters had potential.

unpopular opinions (?)...the prophecies begins had its issues but imo will always be the most well written story from the erins. while i don’t like the way they are written sometimes purely for annoying repetitive conflict, i do like tigerheart and onestar as characters and leaders. breezepelt and nightcloud are good characters and i love crowfeather’s complex relationship with them. silverstream didnt do shit shes literally another average love interest idk why theres intense hatred for her.

i was actually writing a rewrite for tpb but eventually it just became an original work that i really enjoy working on. but my ideal warriors, unrelated to my work, is sort of like: there’s no code so the cats being ‘wild and free’ makes more sense, the clowders are one and there are no borders. conflict mostly comes from scrapping for food, family drama, drama between families, and murder. the clowders see other cats as equals, and are mostly indifferent on kittypets but are interested in their relationship with humans as they are rarely seen in the woods. annd i think less evil dictators as antagonists.

i actually do not have any warriors ocs </3 but i will share my ocs from my story soon once i get some stuff worked out. idk if it will be on here tho or on my main

[cheesybadgers]

It's always such a struggle between not giving away spoilers and wanting to tell someone they've guessed right lol...I do try and keep quiet though 😉

Oh, don't worry, I didn't mean you were romanticising it! I just think the fandom in general tends to have an overly romantic view of Javi compared to what we actually see in canon. I mean, he and Helena were pretty upfront about using each other: he wanted intel and she wanted a visa. I think he cared about her beyond the transactional and he was worried about her safety, but then he does have a bit of a Knight in Shining Armour complex with his informants, so I think it says more about him and his issues than necessarily the women he forms these relationships with. Because he repeats the exact same pattern with Elisa, his embassy colleagues know what he's like with requesting visas for attractive women with sob stories lol, and even the narcos put Maritza in front of him as bait because they knew he couldn't resist a damsel in distress (and he didn't but we don't talk about that in this house 😭).

But for people to then suggest what happened to Helena was the reason Javi ordered Gacha's death feels like a reach in the context of what we're narratively shown in Explosivos, especially when Carrillo never seems to factor in those conversations, and I'm left wondering if we watched the same episode 😂

More ramblings beneath the cut:

And yep, Javi was told by the Ambassador in the episode before Explosivos to bring Gacha back alive. He then argues with Carrillo about how extradition/jail is the answer rather than death and Carrillo calls him out on this view because Javi doesn't have the same stakes in it as the Colombians, who are dying on Carrillo's watch and he has to carry that burden, whereas the gringos don't. It's only after this conversation and seeing Carrillo and Trujillo pray together (with a voiceover from Steve saying the cartel killed Trujillo's father and brothers), that Javi's perspective starts to shift. He shoots the potentially fake senator in the leg because he realises Horacio will get in more trouble than he would. Then it's Horacio literally in his earpiece before the "Give him lead" moment as well.

I think there's at least a year between Helena's assault and Gacha's death (Steve had only just arrived in Colombia for the former, which I think was 1988, whereas the latter was December 1989) and we never see Helena again, Javi never talks about her in that time or appears motivated to seek revenge on her behalf, so it seems unlikely she was at the forefront of his mind in Explosivos, and I really don't think that was the episode's intention.

I'm not pushing one ship over another here or anything lol, but I just don't feel like Carrillo as a character gets enough credit for his influence on Javi's and Steve's arcs. I think it was 100% a deliberate choice by the writers to use Carrillo as a narrative tool like this, because he, Javi and Steve are all at different points of the 'morality' spectrum, and that's what makes their dynamics and conflicts so interesting. That's what drives their stories forward.

I vaguely remember Adria Arjona being in Triple Frontier, so lol yes why not, her TF character can be Helena's sister for the ultimate PP Cinematic Universe crossover 😂

Aww bless you for saying that about the connections between places etc. 🥺 Even when I'm going off on a very non-canon tangent, I try to keep it linked back to the show's events somehow, especially given how traumatic a lot of their experiences were. Those aren't things you just forget, so even though they're trying to move on with their lives now, there will likely always be echoes in the background ❤️

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 20)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19

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Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 12,881

Summary: An invitation takes Horacio and Javier back to Medellín, a city that has changed as much as they have since they were last in it. Amongst the celebrations, can they find a way to reconcile the old with the new?

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Emotional smut, religious themes, discussions of canon-typical violence and past trauma, grief, healing, allusions to period-typical prejudices, smoking, drinking, swearing.

Notes: So, this chapter took on a life of its own and ended up a lot bigger than it was originally supposed to be, oops lol. The initial idea was for this and chapter 21 to be chapter 20, but, as you can see, it didn't quite work out like that 😂

The majority of chapter 21 is done, I just need to finish it off but life (and covid...again) have been getting in the way lately.

After that, I just have chapter 22 and a short epilogue to do, then fin. So, I promise we are very nearly there now! Ideally, I'd like it all done by the end of autumn, but that might not be possible...let's see how it goes.

Thank you once again to anyone still reading and waiting for updates, your patience is greatly appreciated (as always, please feel free to drop me a line if you’d like to, I love hearing from you!)❤️

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested (and there's quite a few new points for this one, as I ended up doing a lot of research lol).

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Chapter 20: Something Old, Something New

Dappled light filtered through the Venetian blinds, splintering across the polished wooden furnishings and along the plush carpeted floor, bathing the hotel room in tints of gold. No traces remained of yesterday’s rain after a warm start to the morning, and the forecast miraculously looked promising for the hours ahead.

Horacio stood facing a floor-length mirror, his fingers wrestling with his jacket and a Cattleya orchid buttonhole until he tutted and gave up. It was the final addition to his outfit: a three-piece mid-grey suit, a pale olive green dress shirt, a bottle green tie and dark brown shoes.

“Come here.” Javier abandoned fastening his burgundy tie, letting it hang untied and loose around his neck. Instead, he took the buttonhole from Horacio and delicately pinned the flower on his left lapel. It matched the one already placed on his navy blue three-piece, which he had teamed with a rose-pink dress shirt and black shoes.

“Thanks. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn one of these. I’m out of practice.” The last wedding Horacio attended had been a friend of Juliana’s, and for some reason, attaching a flower to his jacket was trickier than his CNP lapel pins.

“At least the last time wasn’t your own wedding…which you never actually made it to.”

“Fair point.”

Javier smoothed down Horacio’s lapels, slow caresses on either side, chestnut lost in charcoal as he took all of him in. “Beautiful.”

“Likewise.” Horacio’s fingers slid up to Javier’s tie and worked their magic, managing a knot neater than Javier could ever make. He positioned and repositioned it at the collar until it was symmetrical.

“Satisfied?”

“Hmm, not quite.” He took hold of the length of the tie, pulling Javier down a couple of inches to his height, fresh mint and aftershave hitting their senses as they settled into it, careful not to squash the flowers at their breast.

Javier breathed hard against Horacio’s mouth. “I take it we haven’t got time for -”

“Absolutely not.” Although Horacio was panting as he re-straightened Javier’s tie, the sight of each other in formal wear a distracting novelty. “We’re meeting Steve downstairs in 5 minutes.”

“Shame. I miss Madrid already.”

“Our bed will still be there when we get back.”

“Who said anything about a bed?”

“Come on, we can’t be late,” Horacio reiterated with great reluctance, avoiding the look he knew Javier was giving him. “You ready?”

Javier took a deep breath and picked up the invitation from the nearby nightstand, his eyes scanning over the details one last time.

Juana Marisol Vargas Restrepo

Y

Felipe Gabriel Trujillo Rojas

Con la bendición de sus familias, te invitan a celebrar su boda

(With the blessing of their families, they invite you to celebrate their wedding)

El sábado, 21 de enero de 1995

(Saturday 21st January, 1995)

A las tres de la tarde

(At 3 in the afternoon)

Iglesia del Señor de las Misericordias, Manrique

(Church of the Lord of the Mercies, Manrique)

Recepción a seguir en el Jardín Botánico de Medellín

(Reception to follow at the Botanical Garden of Medellín)

“I think so. Of all the churches in Medellín, though.”

Horacio let out a wry huff to match Javier’s. “I know. The bride’s choice, apparently. Plus, it’s close by for the reception.”

Javier hummed, his eyes still glued to the invitation as if the antidote to the discomfort simmering in the pit of his stomach was hidden between the lines.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. It was always gonna be like this. Wasn’t it? Being back here.”

“I don’t think there’s a way around it. But at least it’s a celebration this time.” Horacio placed a gentle kiss on Javier’s forehead. “And it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

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After locating Steve, they shared a taxi to the church, where they met Connie and Olivia on account of Olivia being in a particularly fussy mood.

“I think it’s the travelling and being out of routine. She was up early this morning. So, of course, she’s tired now.” Connie gestured towards Olivia, fast asleep in her dad’s arms, before hugging Javier and Horacio.

“You look stunning, love the dress,” Javier said, noticing he owned a shirt in the same shade of turquoise.

“Aw thank you, you all look so handsome!” Connie stood back to admire them then leaned in to kiss Steve. “And not hungover?” she added with a raised brow, rubbing away the smudge of lipstick left behind on his cheek. “I take it I need to thank Horacio again for keeping you in one piece?”

It took Horacio a second to get what Connie was referring to. But then he remembered a paralytic pair of DEA agents slumped in the back of his car, alongside practically carrying Javier to his bedroom, removing his outer layers and plying him with water, then lying him on his side with a pillow behind his back.

Horacio had been heading for the door when a slurred noise over his shoulder stopped him. One that sounded suspiciously like “Stay.” He couldn’t prove it or ask for clarification. But nor could he leave. So, he stayed until he was reassured Javier was safe and sleeping soundly. Then he tiptoed home, relieved the next day to find Javier had no recollection of any of it.

“I don’t know about that,” Horacio said in the here and now. “We were all on our best behaviour for today.”

“Yeah, Murphy needs his beauty sleep these days. Isn’t that right?” Javier threw a wink in Steve’s direction and wondered if Connie’s choice of words meant what he thought they did.

“Well, some of us actually have to go to work, Peña,” Steve shot back with a self-satisfied curl of the lips.

Connie playfully slapped Steve on the shoulder. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous.”

“Can’t even deny it.”

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Guests began to file up the stone steps into the church, the Murphys following once they had roused Olivia awake, with Javier and Horacio hanging back at the top of the stairs.

Their arms rested over the balcony wall as they surveyed the road beneath. There was no CNP vehicle parked up this time, but instead, a hive of activity with guests being dropped off and a space reserved for the bride’s imminent arrival.

“It feels like a fucking lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

“It was.”

“I, er, never saw her again. Helena, I mean. I secured her a visa – figured it was the least I could do after everything. But she took her kid and ran before I could give it to her. Her neighbour said she was staying with her sister in Peru, but…who knows?”

Javier wasn’t sure if she even had a sister, but he always hoped it was the truth. He always hoped she and her family were safe and that she found the strength to put what happened behind her. But of course, he had no fucking clue if these were comforting lies he’d told himself over the years. It wasn’t love, whatever they had. Far from it. He knew that back then let alone now. But for a short while, they cared in their own way, and as much as their circumstances and jobs allowed them to.

“Probably for the best. It wouldn’t have been safe here.”

“No, I made sure of that.” Javier’s hand dug harshly into the jagged stone, leaving dents in his skin until the subtle and discreet touch of a finger made contact with his own, pulling him out of his spiralling self-flagellation. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t plan on bringing all this up. Especially not today.”

“It’s okay. And it’s not like we ever really talked about it at the time.”

It had been a sore point for Horacio, not that he understood why back then. Of course, he knew Helena wasn’t the first or the last, but he could see whatever they had, however short-lived, went beyond the mere transactional. He’d never seen Javier so worried for an informant, and as it turned out, he had every reason to be. Then, she stopped being a threat and became yet another victim.

“Funnily enough, no. You just took it out on Steve instead.”

A knowing look eased the tension in an instant.

“Could you blame me?”

“Absolutely not. Especially when he was encroaching on your territory.”

Javier couldn’t resist a wink, which caused a muttered “Fuck you” followed by their shoulders shaking in unison.

Once calm was restored, Horacio turned to face the church, the wall bearing the brunt of his weight. “Looking back now, though, I don’t think I should’ve been so surprised by what you did for me in Cartagena and Tolú.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I did the same for you that night here in Medellín.”

Javier joined Horacio; both now stood side by side, their gaze meeting in an acknowledgement of the rich history that existed between them that no words could ever fully convey.

And with the scattered remnants of their past now confined to distant memories they could at last put behind them, they made their way into the church. 

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A waterfall of roses, carnations and orchids tied together with matching ribbons cascaded a rainbow of purple, yellow and white down the rows of pews. The flowers were supplied by the mother of the groom, who conveniently was a florist by profession. Every August, Medellín burst into bloom for Feria de las Flores, so if anyone was going to be in charge of the arrangements, it was her.

Candles lit a path from the aisle to the altar, reminding Horacio not only of Día de las Velitas but of his and Javier’s recreation of the festival during their first Christmas in Laredo. He was about to take a seat when he caught a flash of green dress uniform in the wings of the church and a pair of dark eyes picking him out of the congregation.

He excused himself to the sacristy at the side of the altar.

Trujillo peered out to the pews as his hands alternated between fidgeting with the knot of his tie and his cufflinks. “Is she here yet?”

“Not yet.” Horacio straightened Trujillo’s tie knot. “But it’s still early.”

“Yeah.” Trujillo nodded and took a deep breath.

“She’ll be here before you know it. So relax. I think we’ve been through worse.” Horacio’s lips stayed neutral for an impressively long spell until he caved.

“My hand was steady as a rock on that rooftop. But today?” Trujillo held out his hand to show the hint of a tremor.

“You ended something once and for all on that rooftop. Something that needed ending…for your father, Alfredo and Sebastián. For you. For Colombia. But today is the start of your future.”

“I always thought they would have been here for this one day. So, thank you. For being here instead. For coming back...after everything. For all those early morning drills and target practice. And for the free drinks.”

They laughed at the fact Horacio was a man of his word and hadn’t let Trujillo buy a single drink since arriving here.

“It’s the least I could do. And if you ever need anything, Felipe, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Likewise…Horacio. That goes for Javier, too.”

Their silence was an acknowledgement that they had just shared an ending and a beginning of their own, no longer comrades in arms or superior and subordinate, but something different again, something equal.

“I thought my ears were burning,” came a voice from the doorway.

“Great way to kill the moment, Peñita.”

“Sorry. I wanted to wish you luck. And offer you some Dutch Courage, if you're interested?” Javier produced a hip flask from behind his back. “A present from Search Bloc,” was his answer to the quizzical looks he was met with.

“Just a taste, then. I don’t want Juana thinking I’m drunk.” Trujillo took a restrained swig. “Any last-minute advice?” he asked Javier, passing him the flask.

“You want marriage advice from me? Er, don’t do a runner before she gets here?”

“Good one, brother.”

“He did warn you,” Horacio added, shooting Javier a pointed look.

“True. Although,” Trujillo lowered his voice and glanced at the doorway, “neither of you might be married, but…you’ve been through a lot together. And I think it’s made you stronger. So, you must be doing something right.”

A wordless nod and one last swig for good measure were exchanged.

Javier and Horacio were unsure if it was the alcohol or something else causing the heat to rise in their cheeks. But either way, they were in quiet agreement with Trujillo’s assessment.

It wasn’t long before the words “She’s here!” were whispered with barely contained glee from beyond the door, and it was time to take their places.

The ceremony, even the drier elements, passed quicker than most weddings Javier and Horacio had been to. It was the first one Javier had attended since…well, not even his own now he thought about it because he never made it to the church. He never saw Lorraine’s dress either, as, unsurprisingly, she had changed out of it by the time he was forced to explain himself. Not that Javier really could explain at the time. But then, it was much easier to understand something was wrong once he knew what was right.

Between Felipe’s pristine uniform and Juana’s mantilla veil, memories of Horacio's Mamá wearing a strikingly similar black veil to his Papá’s funeral came to mind. But once upon a time, they had also stood at an altar like this with their shared life ahead of them, and even though the injustice of it being cut short would always linger, on this occasion, Horacio chose to cherish the fact it existed in the first place.

Furtive glances travelled between him and Javier as they bowed their heads to pray during the candle ceremony and for the exchange of rings and arras coins. It was a silent confirmation that whilst these rituals weren’t an option for them in the eyes of the law or church, their unofficial versions were no less significant. 

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They moved on to the reception at Jardín Botánico de Medellín in the evening, a place Horacio hadn’t been to since his youth. The wedding meal was to be served under a spectacular orchid-shaped wooden canopy in the centre of the gardens. Tables dressed in white linen were decorated with flower arrangements to match those at the church, and favours included coffee beans and orchid seeds.

The newlyweds sat at the top table surrounded by close family and their padrinos and madrinas, the echoes of war still loud and everlasting given the notable absences. Javier, Horacio, Steve, Connie and Olivia sat on the next one, along with some familiar Search Bloc faces and Carlos Holguín staff.

At the adjacent table were Martínez Senior and Junior. Horacio and Martínez Senior had only crossed paths at occasional ceremonies and dinners, even though their fathers worked more closely in the past. As the war on drugs kicked in, it became apparent the two men had polar opposite approaches to their jobs. And whilst Horacio made Escobar his mission, Martínez took a different path, specialising in FARC operations in the jungle instead. Until their paths converged, that was.

“Do you think he knows?” Javier muttered over the rim of his champagne flute after Martínez Senior’s eyes briefly fell on them.

“About us? Why would he?” Horacio replied into the palm of his hand as he scratched his upper lip.

“I dunno. He knew about everything else. And he must have questions.”

“I’m sure he does. But do you think he’ll even want to speak to us? I already know he hates my guts.”

“He might be pleasantly surprised you’re not dead. You never know.”

Their hushed conversation was thankfully drowned out by Olivia interrogating Connie about everything from the guests’ outfits to the flower arrangements and when the food was coming, whilst Steve caught up with Jacoby.

The tables were soon full of plates and dishes bearing carne asada, lechona, patacones, arepas, tamales, milhojas, concadas, cuajada con melao, fruit salads and the centre piece Torta Negra Colombiana, decorated with flowers to match the colour scheme.

The cutting of the Torta Negra followed before the space was re-arranged, guests spilling out into the surrounding gardens, refreshing their drinks at the various pop-up bars or walking amongst the flowers and trees.

By dark, a dancefloor was unveiled in the centre of the canopy with a band playing cumbia, vallenato, merengue, bambuco, salsa and beyond.

Once the bride had thrown her bouquet, the single male guests gathered to place a shoe beneath her dress. Javier managed to escape the ritual in favour of sitting back and watching from the sidelines. But at the risk of inviting prying questions from his former colleagues if he did the same, Horacio reluctantly added his shoe to the pile. Typically, his was chosen by Juana, which, as per tradition, meant he would be next to marry.

From several feet away, Horacio could see Javier’s suggestive eyebrow and overt smirk, and they were even more brazen close up when Horacio re-joined him.

“Should we pick out rings, or…?”

An eyeroll was the only answer Javier was ever going to get to that question, and it came right on cue.

“Because, er,” Javier continued regardless, clearing his throat and casually glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot, “seeing you in your shirt stays this morning got me thinking how fucking good you’d look in a wedding garter.”

As Horacio was hit with a barrage of mental images and a dry mouth, a large cheer erupted as the next tradition got underway. This time, all male guests – not just the single ones – were rounded up to remove their belts, the idea being that the man with the longest belt was the winner. Of what exactly, Horacio was never sure when this had played out at past Colombian weddings he’d been to.

He stood opposite Javier as they fumbled with buckles, unhooking the leather straps from their belt loops and pulling them off in one swift motion. Their eyes remained fixed on each other from start to finish, an act fuelled by Javier’s last words.

The sound of cheering pulled them back with reluctance to the proceedings, and even though their belts were probably slightly longer than they used to be, they weren’t declared the winners. 

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As the drinks flowed, so did the dancing, regardless of whether the paired-up guests knew each other or whether they could actually dance.

Javier’s next partner was a familiar face, though, who had at least taken a few dance classes to get to know some locals when first arriving in Colombia.

“Is Steve with Olivia?” he asked, grateful for a slower number so he could catch his breath and talk.

“Oh, no, she’s with the Jacobys. She’s made friends with their daughter, Chloe - they’re around the same age.” Connie twirled underneath Javier’s outstretched arm and back around again. “Steve is conveniently helping Horacio with the next round of drinks. He always did have hips as stiff as a board. I had to practically drag him up for our first dance.”

“That…doesn’t surprise me.”

“And what about Horacio?” Connie whispered into Javier’s shoulder as their feet slid across the floor in time with the music. “Does he need to loosen his hips, or is he a dark horse?”

“You should know a man never dances and tells. But…” Javier spun Connie on her heel again, pulling her close so his head was near her ear this time. “I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with his hips.”

“That doesn’t surprise me either. When did you say you were heading to Manizales?”

“In a couple of days.” Javier swallowed hard now the subject had been raised.

“How’s he holding up?”

“Okay. We’ve not really talked about it since Madrid. Figured we’d deal with it after the wedding, but -” Javier scoffed, cutting himself off mid-sentence.

“Now it’s nearly here,” Connie finished for him.

“Exactly. But I guess we couldn’t hide in Spain forever.” As tempting as it was some days.

They somehow made it to the other side of the dancefloor, narrowly avoiding multiple couples before escaping back to their table once the song was over.

“How’re you finding being back again?” Connie asked.

“Weird.”

“Yeah. Definitely weird at first.”

Their shared laughter came like a sigh of relief, a release of tension now they had spoken the truth out loud.

“But different.”

“It’s not like last time, right?” There was uncertainty in her unblinking eyes, a plea not only for reassurance but for honesty as well.

“Trujillo said anyone left from the cartel with half a brain cell skipped town or went underground before Pablo’s body was cold. They’ve been tracking down anyone dumb enough to have stuck around. So, no. It’s not like last time. I promise.”

His tone was soft but he looked Connie in the eye until she nodded, needing the conviction as much as she did.

“I know I never visited Madrid like I said I would – blame your ex-employer for that, by the way – but for what it’s worth, I don’t think Medellín’s the only one who’s different now. So, whatever happens, Javi…”

“I know.”

His hand found its way to hers on the table and gently squeezed. An acceptance that there was no denying traces of the past, as they had already discovered, but a translucent overlay had been placed on top of it now. Whether the two could co-exist in the long run, nobody yet knew, but at least it was finally the chance of a future for them and Medellín. 

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Horacio picked one of the quieter bars, reeling off a list of drinks to the bartender and perching on a stool while he waited for his order.

“Thought you might need a hand.”

Before Horacio could respond, Steve had already sat on the adjacent stool, his back to the bar to accommodate his long legs.

“You sure you’re not just avoiding the dancefloor, Agent Murphy?” There was a hint of a mock interrogative tone to his voice as he turned sideways to face Steve.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “You got me there. Although…” He dipped into the inside pocket of his black suit jacket and pulled out a couple of cigars. “Courtesy of the groom, if you’re interested?”

Horacio broke into a laugh. “He paid up, then.”

“Damn right.” Steve held one of the cigars closer to Horacio, tempting him despite the conflicted look Horacio was giving it. “I won’t tell Javi if you don’t tell Con.”

Horacio sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He put the cigar between his lips and took the lighter from Steve, hovering the flame near the foot until it took.

Steve did the same, a woody haze soon encircling them.

The bartender appeared with a trayful of drinks and once he was gone again, Horacio lifted a beer bottle and slid it across to Steve. “I never got a chance to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“Stechner.”

A scowl stormed across Steve’s pupils, and he took a quick hard swig from his beer bottle, placing it back on the table with a little more force than intended. “It was my fuckin’ pleasure. You should’ve seen his face. Covered in blood and tears in his eyes when my hand squeezed his throat.”

He swapped his beer for his cigar, relishing in that sweet memory as a ring of smoke hovered above his head like a misplaced halo.

Every now and then, Steve still surprised Horacio. Because occasionally, Horacio caught glimpses of the turbulence that raged beneath the surface. It was a clumsier, more unrefined version than he was accustomed to, but he recognised and understood it nonetheless.

“Not sure I’d have been able to stop squeezing,” Horacio confessed.

“It was touch and go for a minute. But rumour has it, the new Country Attaché, Alana Cortés, and Messina were roommates all the way through their Academy days. And for a few years after…before Cortés took an assignment in Mexico out of the blue. But now she’s back.” Steve toasted the air with his beer bottle. “So good luck to our old friend, Bill, trying to pull her strings.”

Horacio raised his glass to meet Steve’s bottle, although there was an ulterior motive to leaning forward a fraction. “I take it you’ve heard nothing else about the photos?” His words were delivered towards the floor in case of the minutest likelihood anyone around them was the world’s best lip reader.

“Not a thing. But I’d handle it if something did happen; you have my word. Cali’s beyond my remit, but I’d put good money on Stechner’s attention being there now he can’t use us anymore.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Oh, and you were right, too.”

“About what?”

“Javi tryin' to shut me out.”

“Well, thanks for not letting him.”

They bowed their heads and returned to their cigars, a surprisingly comfortable silence sitting between them.

“How was he in Madrid?” Steve asked in the end.

“Good, mostly. There were bad days, obviously. But he sleeps better now.”

“He’s not the only one.”

“No. I think there’s a lot of that going around.”

“It’s weird though, right?”

“What’s that?”

“Being back. Like it was all just some fuckin’ dream. Like it wasn’t really me on that rooftop. Like everyone knew it should’ve been you in that photo instead.”

Horacio might not have been there for the final showdown, but he'd seen enough newspapers and bulletins to know that photo well. The one where Escobar’s limp body was held up to the camera like a trophy, now the hunt was over.

“Yeah, well, I made sure it wasn’t me, didn’t I?” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve had to make my peace with it. And so should you.”

“I played out that moment so many times. Thought about all the ways we’d catch him. Over and over, I let it run through my head. But I wasn’t expecting him to look so…pathetic. Like any other son of a bitch criminal runnin’ scared when his time’s up.”

“Because that’s all he was. But it was real. And he’s gone. No matter what happens, they can’t take that away from us.”

“But now what?”

“Now, we live our lives. We don’t forget, but we move on.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Just as they toasted their drinks, they were rumbled.

“Might’ve known this is where you’d be hiding. Found them!” Javier called over his shoulder.

Trujillo followed behind Javier; his police uniform now exchanged for a lightweight guayabera. “Anything to avoid a dancefloor. Blondie, are those my cigars?”

“I think you’ll find they’re mine now, Major. I might have a couple of spares lying around, though.” Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out more like he was performing a magic trick.

Trujillo rubbed his hands together. “Now you’re talking.” 

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Once Steve had braved the canopy to pass Connie her drink, the four men retreated to a deserted part of the gardens where pine tables and chairs with canvas covering them were dotted amongst the trees. White lights hung across the branches like fireflies and lanterns lined the decked walkways, the party and dancing reduced to a murmur in the distance.

The quartet sat around one of the pine tables, the first time they had been together like this since the old days back at Carlos Holguín.

“Can you believe we’re finally here?” Trujillo asked, savouring the spicy scent of his cigar as it combined with the fresh floral notes of the forest.

“At your wedding? Barely.”

Trujillo rolled his eyes at Javier’s teasing and shook his head. “You can tick comedian off your list of career options.”

Steve sucked in air through his teeth at their war of words. “See what I had to put up with.”

“Says the white boy who needed me to be his fucking translator 24/7.”

A collective braying sound travelled around the table this time before it morphed into laughter and Steve making use of any Spanish swear word he could think of.

“But in all seriousness...no, not really,” Javier replied in earnest after they returned to their cigars.

“Sometimes when I wake up, it takes me a minute to remember he’s not still lurking out there somewhere.”

“But he’s not.” Horacio’s eyes glowed with steely determination, needing to put a line under this once and for all. “You made sure of that. You gave Medellín a future. And now it’s time to start yours.” He raised his glass to the centre of the table. “To Juana and Felipe.”

“To Juana and Felipe!” Javier and Steve echoed as their drinks clinked with Horacio’s.

“And to Colombia,” Felipe added.

“To Colombia!”

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

Once the cigars were stubbed out, Trujillo and Horacio were pulled away for a Search Bloc reunion, leaving Javier and Steve to their drinks.

“I was telling Carrillo about Cortés earlier.”

“How did you find out about her, by the way? You never said on the phone.”

“Just some good old fashioned slightly off-the-record detective work, that’s all.”

“You covered your tracks, though, right? Because they’ll know it was you who gave her my intel. Even if they can’t prove it.”

“’Course. Although it wouldn’t take a fuckin’ genius to figure that out. Same with Stechner’s busted face. Don’t think anyone bought it was your handiwork.”

“To be fair, there’s a critical shortage of geniuses in the DEA. Present company included, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Steve retaliated by raising his middle finger in response to Javier’s trademark wink. “But most people hate Stechner as much as we do, so no one came asking. Never saw him around the school again after that, although I’m sure he must’ve been prowlin' about somewhere.”

“More than likely. So, er…no one’s mentioned the photos either?”

“No. And like I told Carrillo, even if they did, I’d handle it, Javi. I promise. There’s more shit on Stechner out there, I fuckin’ know it. Messina was getting too close, remember. I don’t think I’ll have to dig deeper, but look at it as an insurance policy.”

“Makes sense. And thanks, Steve. For Stechner. For the intel. For reassuring Horacio, apparently.”

Javier laughed at the thought of them engaged in something resembling a heart-to-heart. But if truth be told, it brought warmth to his chest to realise the two men could be considered friends-of-sorts these days. Not that he dared tell them that.

Steve gave a lazy salute with one hand whilst the other took a swig of his drink. “Don’t expect that to become a habit, by the way.”

And there it was, right on cue, just as Javier anticipated. “Oh, no, of course not.”

“It was a one-time-only Wedding Special kinda deal.”

“Right. Exactly.”

Javier took a long sip of his drink to hide the smirk threatening to explode into an undiplomatic laugh if he wasn’t careful.

“Any idea when you’re moving back to the States?” Steve asked, seemingly oblivious to Javier’s impressive restraint.

“Not really. It depends on Horacio’s visa. We haven’t decided on the best route yet. I’d forgotten how much fucking paperwork’s involved.”

It was no wonder Javier held such disdain for bureaucracy when the wrong piece of paper was the difference between crossing a border and not. When someone’s life was reduced down to a list of rigid criteria without much consideration for the sacrifice and hardship it often took to get to that point in the first place. It was why he had done his best to help informants get an American visa wherever possible, even if it meant bending rules until they snapped.

He knew Horacio had more options than most – more than his grandparents’ generation did - and they had been lucky with their past visas. But he tried not to think about the fact their future would be in the hands of an officious government administrator. One most likely not prepared to bend any rules in the slightest.

“You got that right. Don’t s’pose he’s thought about law enforcement?”

Javier shot Steve a sharp look. “Hilarious.”

“I thought so. And what about you? Any ideas what’s next?”

“Me? Fuck, I dunno, man. Guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“You’ll both figure it out, y’know.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. You always do. You’re like me and Con. We’ve had our rough patches, several of ‘em while we were here - and a few more since we left, come to think of it - but somehow, we get through it. Same as you and Horacio.”

“You drunk, Murphy?”

Steve contemplated that as though he hadn’t considered the possibility until now despite the array of empty glasses covering the table. “Fuck, I think I am.” He let out a loud snigger before hushing himself. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” For all of Javier’s stoicism, he stood no chance, and it wasn’t long before they were giggling like schoolboys.

“About the rough patches, though…” Steve said once they had calmed down. “Any tips?”

“Someone once told me it’s okay to not always be in the same boat even if you’re in the same storm. Sometimes, you just need your own boat. But as long as you’re trying to sail in the same direction...and want to be in the same boat as much as possible, you can get through it.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but that actually makes sense. Who do I need to thank?”

Javier smiled, almost able to smell fresh churros if he closed his eyes hard enough. “Someone a lot older and wiser than us.”

“Figures. And my point still stands, by the way.”

“What point’s that exactly?”

“You might not have worked out the finer details yet, but…” Steve gestured for Javier to move forward as though he was about to share highly classified intel. “The worst’s over now. We don’t forget, but we move on.” He nodded sagely before dropping his voice to little more than an alcohol-infused rumble. “This is your happy ending, Javi. Go live it.”

As they returned to the party, Steve alternating between leaning against Javier and patting him enthusiastically on the back whilst attempting something vaguely resembling Spanish, there was no doubt in Javier’s mind that Steve was wasted and probably had been for most of their conversation.

But when it came to the sentiment behind Steve’s garbled words, something told Javier that didn’t matter.

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

Maybe it was Horacio’s age or the quiet life he had become accustomed to, but he couldn’t keep up with Search Bloc’s drinking. The aguardiente shots were in full flow when he left them to it, doubling back towards where he had left Javier and Steve.

He made it past the bustle of the bar and round the corner towards a small rock garden with a walkway to the trees lying beyond.

“So, the rumours were true, then.”

Force of habit made Horacio momentarily reach for where his gun holster used to be as he spun around to face the voice from the shadows of a wooden bench.

“Depends which ones you’re talking about,” he replied in a measured tone now he knew the source of the voice. “You can’t believe everything you hear.”

“Well, let’s put it this way...you certainly look well for a dead man, Colonel Carrillo.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

“Not at all. Vengeance isn’t my style.”

“Nor mine these days.”

“So I’ve heard. Congratulations on your retirement. I’d say that beats jail, wouldn’t you?”

Horacio scoffed as he sat on the opposite end of the bench, his brow flexing at such an expertly delivered blow. “I guess I deserved that.”

“I think we both know what a man deserves and what a man gets are rarely the same thing.”

“True. But you’ll always be Colonel Martínez: the man who stopped Escobar.”

“Perhaps so. But was death not the easier way out?”

“Easier than what? Vengeance?”

“Justice.” Martínez gave Horacio a long look from his end of the bench. “Gaviria was the one who wanted him dead. It’s no wonder you two got along so well.”

“I did my duty. As Gaviria did his and you did yours. We played the hands we were dealt.”

“Yes, and he dealt mine well when he signed my son up to Search Bloc before offering me your job.”

Realisation slowly spread across Horacio’s face, and without meaning to, he gave Martínez a look tinged with pity. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I kept him alive. He was transferred to a new intel unit instead…where he intercepted radio transmissions from Pablo the day we caught him.”

A curve of a smile formed on Horacio’s lips. “Funny how it works out sometimes.”

Horacio was reminded of his own double-edged sword of a path to becoming leader of Search Bloc. The journey began with Javier and a briefcase full of cash being deposited in the lap of General Jaramillo, forcing the General’s greedy hand to appoint Horacio as head of the anti-drug squad and make him a Colonel. A job that was already a poisoned chalice on account of his predecessor winding up dead at the hands of the cartel.

Javier using gringo money to buy Horacio a promotion had been a bone of contention between them back then. Too many heated discussions under the influence led to an argument where “Everybody works for somebody" and “Don’t ever mistake me for one of your whores again” were the last words to hang between them in a heavy fog of smoke, whiskey and undefinable tension for several weeks. During which time, Horacio was even more ruthless than usual. And as if to prove a point, Javier practically became a temporary resident at his favourite brothel.

The hypocrisy of the situation had sat uneasily under Horacio’s skin when he had always taken such a hard line on bribery from the narcos. Was this really any different?

But conversely, if he hadn’t been allowed to build his own force of incorruptible men, he would never have led the operation on Gacha. He would never have ended up in those quarters in Tolú with Javier. On his cot with Javier underneath him.

“Yes, it is. I did tell Gaviria I would bring Escobar into custody unless he resisted. But of course, he resisted.”

“Then maybe Escobar didn’t care about justice as much as you think he did. And there’s nothing you could have done about that.”

“Aren’t we supposed to care about justice, though? And I don’t mean the vigilante kind you and Los Pepes were so fond of administering.”

“You sound like the gringos I used to work with.” A surge of nostalgia rose in Horacio’s chest, and he’d have been surprised if it wasn’t showing on his face. Although, of course, it was one gringo in particular he had in mind.

“If you think I wanted Escobar to be extradited to an American jail, you’re mistaken. He was our problem to deal with, not theirs.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give a fuck about a corrupt form of justice. How would that have been better than what I did? So many judges, politicians and journalists were bought or killed alongside our men. He wanted Colombia to bleed, and he’d have done whatever it took to make sure he didn’t remain in a cell. You, Trujillo, Search Bloc…you cauterised the wound that no one else could.”

“For now. I think we both know this was something of a Pyrrhic victory. And not the end.”

“Two things we can agree on.”

Reluctant smiles crossed their faces despite everything.

“I think our fathers managed a few more.”

“So I was told at Papá’s wake. How is your father doing these days?”

“He’s fine. Retired now but relieved the hunt is over. I think he hated watching from the sidelines.”

“I know the feeling.”

The distant drumbeat of the live band carried on the gentle breeze through the garden, whispering like ghosts through the plants and trees surrounding them.

“I may not have agreed with your methods, but I was very sorry about your father.”

“Me too. And for what it’s worth, I think my father would’ve been sorry about my methods as well.”

“I cannot imagine how losing a parent so young would have changed my path. And to be clear, this isn't to be taken as an excuse, but by your own ethos, you played the cards you were dealt, did you not?”

Horacio laughed. “Something like that.”

“I must admit, you were a tough act to follow.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. The level of respect you commanded from your men wasn’t easy to replicate.”

“You still got invited here, though.”

“True. And I accepted the invite despite my suspicions the groom was assisting Agent Peña before his departure.”

Horacio’s jaw ticked in anticipation of the treacherous tightrope he would need to tread here. He and Javier were out, done, without their badges or weapons. But Trujillo wasn’t.

“Suspicions or evidence?” he settled on in the end.

“Suspicions based on what I witnessed. But I think there’s irrefutable evidence his and Peña’s unfaltering loyalty rested with you rather than with me.”

“Trujillo also fired a bullet through Escobar’s skull.”

“Yes. An act I don’t judge him for in the circumstances. And rest assured, I have no intention of reporting my suspicions to anyone. Major Trujillo’s motives aren’t the ones still eluding me.”

Horacio swallowed down the dread burning the back of his throat like bile that was in danger of choking him if he didn’t get rid of it quickly. “What are you talking about?”

“You never struck me as a man afraid of death. And whilst I can understand the ambush might have made some reconsider their career choice, I wouldn’t have put you down as one of them.”

“Do you really think there was anything left for me in Search Bloc? My superiors already had your name on their lips to replace me long before I was shot.”

“In Search Bloc, perhaps not. But I’m sure the CNP would have allowed you back once the dust settled. They forgave you for far worse than being shot.”

Horacio huffed sarcastically despite how unwise it was to get sucked into the conversation. “I can assure you my decision was never about them. And it’s nothing you didn’t do for your son.”

That seemed to be the winning blow as Martínez nodded in concession. “True. We can’t afford to be afraid of death in our profession. But when it comes to the people we love, I must confess…I can’t apply the same rule.”

Horacio gripped the edge of the bench and focused intently on his feet, fearing even glancing in Martínez’s direction would fill in the few remaining blanks. He managed a minimal grunting noise in his throat that he hoped sounded like agreement.

“However, many times, I’ve asked myself why a man such as Peña would have destroyed his career so recklessly, and so close to the finish line. But I’ve been unable to settle on an answer.”

It wasn’t quite the change of subject Horacio hoped for. “Well, for starters,” he began, raising his gaze from his shoes at last, not out of a newly acquired sense of bravery but because he knew he needed to be convincing. “I wouldn’t read too much into Judy Moncada’s Get Out Of Jail Free Card.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I know Peña’s role was only a small part of something a lot bigger than he, you or I could control. But I have to wonder what leverage they had over him to make a deal with the devil impossible to refuse.”

Horacio had no intention of engaging further, but it wasn’t the first time he had wondered about the gap he left that was hastily – and bloodily - filled by Los Pepes. Would they even have been necessary if he'd never left? Or would they have tried their luck in approaching him with the offer of an allegiance? It caused his stomach to swoop if he focused too much on the people involved in that hypothetical scenario. But then he thought of Javier, and he knew with every fibre of his being if their roles had been reversed, he would have done the same.

“I’m sure every man has his reasons if the price is high enough.”

Martínez cocked his head in Horacio’s direction with a creased brow, holding eye contact for a fraction longer than Horacio was comfortable with. “Quite.”

Drunken laughter followed by a sniggered hush abruptly cut through the loud silence. The two Colonels – past and present – turned around to be met with the sight of Javier trying to control the swaying bulk of limbs belonging to his former partner.

Javier spotted them first and halted in his tracks, hoping the dim lighting hid the flash of horror on his face at the sight of two parallel universes colliding in front of him on a garden bench.

Steve apparently was oblivious to what they had stumbled across as he carried on along the path back to the party with just about enough of his faculties remaining to reunite with Connie.

“Everything alright?” Javier asked, fingers twitching on his right hand as he looked from one side of the bench to the other, then back again.

“Yeah, fine.” But Horacio’s eyes found Javier’s in the flecks of light from the lanterns hanging amongst the tree branches and told a more complicated story. “We were just comparing notes.”

“Oh yeah? Any interesting findings?” Javier’s eyes stayed fixed on Horacio’s or the floor for the most part, only risking a brief glance or two at Martínez.

“A few,” Martínez chipped in as he studied them more carefully than they were likely aware of. “Some that I will never be able to excuse or forgive, but I think I understand one thing more clearly now.”

“What’s that?” Horacio asked.

“I always believed there were two types of people in this world: those who rely on hope and those who rely on faith. But now, I see some rely on both.”

Before Javier or Horacio could formulate a response, Martínez announced it was time to locate his son as they had early shifts in the morning.

Their farewell involved little more than a handshake, a stern nod and an exchange of “Good luck.” But it was a necessary formality for all parties. A mark of mutual respect that wasn’t quite an offered or accepted olive branch but at least a truce. And that was enough. 

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

“You okay?” Javier asked once Martínez had disappeared from view.

“Yeah. Well, I guess it was inevitable at some point.”

“Didn’t expect it to go like that, though. What the fuck did he mean? Just before he left. Does he know?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t think he’s telling anyone anything either way.”

“Agreed. We don’t have to stay if you’d rather -”

“No.” Horacio was quiet for a second, craning his ear towards the sound of the band behind the large cluster of trees they had sat amongst earlier. “I’ve got a better idea.”

He looked around them in all directions, twice, to be on the safe side, then took Javier by the hand and escorted him along one of the walkways. However, they branched off in a different direction than before, Horacio surprising himself with childhood memories of the layout of this place that he assumed were lost to the sands of time.

“What are -?”

“You’ll see.”

The path spiralled in circles, leaving them surrounded by greenery until they arrived at a softly lit water fountain in the centre. They were somehow closer to the sound of the music, even though they had moved further away from the party.

As they stilled, Javier looked expectantly at Horacio, who was already removing his jacket, placing it carefully on the ground and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

Javier did the same, still not understanding what this was all about, but the look in Horacio’s eye made him want to find out.

Horacio stepped closer, moonlight casting reflections from the fountain, illuminating the spark of hunger glinting in his pupils. “I’ve spent all night watching you dance with half the wedding party.” One hand dropped to Javier’s waist and tugged him forward into his hold. “It’s my turn now.”

Javier’s breath hitched as Horacio pressed them together, his hands automatically falling to Horacio’s hips to steady himself. “You only had to ask,” he said, the smoky timbre of his voice vibrating against Horacio’s ear.

“I thought line-dancing was more your thing.”

Javier nipped at Horacio’s earlobe in revenge. “That was when I was a kid. And you weren’t complaining about my dancing skills on our anniversary.”

Horacio let out an agreeable sigh as he chased the scrape of Javier’s teeth. “No, I wasn’t. But as nice as that was, we were hardly moving.”

“True. And if you must know, the Texas Two-Step got me several phone numbers back in the day. Lorraine’s being one of them. She was more into it than me, but it was actually kinda fun…for a while anyway.”

Memories of Saturday nights spent at old Texan dance halls and barn dances suddenly filled Javier’s mind. The faded aroma of leather and iron rust lingered alongside stale Lone Star beer, cigarette smoke and overpowering perfume as he led his partner across the worn wooden floor in time to the likes of Laura Canales and Hank Locklin.

His gaze would travel around the room – which was easier during a do-si-do - sometimes to make sure they didn’t collide with other dancers, sometimes to give anyone who caught his eye a discreet once-over. If he happened to hone in on a male dancer's tight-fitted jeans and fluid hip movements, it could easily be disguised as admiration for his female partner.

Not that it ever led to any encounters. Not there anyway; it wasn’t anonymous enough. But it was still a temptation. And yet another instance of feeling caught between two worlds: to have the tangible heat and beauty of a woman in his arms whilst fantasising about a mysterious, alluring man from afar, knowing he could never do the same with him in front of an audience.

“Juliana taught me to dance too. Or tried to, at least. She competed a lot when she was younger.”

Horacio smiled at the unexpected memory of them practising in her parents' kitchen, her father watching them like a hawk, glaring every time Horacio put a foot wrong or his hands fell lower than her waist despite the fact she was a grown woman. And his hands had already done much more than that whenever they had the place to themselves. His relationship with her father was the polar opposite of his relationship with Chucho, now he thought about it.

It wasn’t Juliana’s fault, though. And when they were alone on a crowded dancefloor, before his job and life came between them, before he understood the strange, borderline resentment twisting in his chest if he clocked male dancers with a particular look or build, they were content.

One of their favourite clubs ran a cumbia contest on the first Saturday of each month. The prize was tokenistic, free drinks on their next visit, but that didn’t matter on the occasions they came first when Juliana would tell her parents the good news at church the following day. The look on her father’s face as Horacio tried and failed to stifle a smug expression at her side would always be priceless.

“You ever danced any cumbia?” he asked Javier now.

“Some. At parties, weddings, quinceañeras…but that’s going back before I came to Colombia.” There might have been a few hazy nights in clubs and bars over here as well, but dancing hadn’t been his modus operandi in those days.

“So, you’ve never done it with a Colombian?”

Javier’s brow quirked of its own accord, and his tongue swept deliberately across his top lip. “No, er, you’d be my first.”

Horacio kept an impassive expression with his mouth, but his darkening pupils gave him away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

“You know that won’t be necessary.”

Somewhere in the middle of their flirtation, they loosened their embrace, one hand linked in the space between them as their feet stepped back and forth, then side to side, their movements mirroring one another. Quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow.

Without warning, Horacio pulled Javier across his body and under their arms, spinning him around with force, then bringing them face-to-face again.

“Lucho Bermúdez was one of the great musical legends here in Colombia. Still is after his death last year. Mamá and my Abuelas listened to him all the time whenever the whole family got together. Do you know the name of this song?”

Horacio waited until their noses were almost touching to ask as their feet subconsciously glided over the paving stones beneath them.

Javier merely shook his head, their legs intermittently brushing together as their hips popped to the beat before he was spun once, twice, thrice until he was dizzy and out of breath.

“Tolú,” Horacio whispered as they reconverged, his lips skimming Javier’s and his eyes flickering shut as flashes of them on his cot in their shadowed quarters flooded into view.

Javier teased his bottom lip over Horacio’s, moustache swiping back and forth until they shuddered, a different first time as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

But they never stopped dancing. Horacio looped through their arms until he had his back to Javier, one hand each gripped at Horacio’s waist. They shimmied sideways, their free hands entwined by their shoulders to guide them back and forth, switching their hold each time they travelled across the floor. Another spin, another brush of legs, or an electric look making it clear which memories of Tolú they were thinking of.

The song ended, leaving only their charged breaths and the evening breeze rustling through the maze of trees protecting them from prying eyes.

Then, the band struck up again, so they kept dancing. Their bodies and minds synchronised as they paid homage to the country that had brought them together in the unlikeliest circumstances, Horacio interjecting with memories from childhood whenever old classics were played. He was even forced to swear on the cross between their chests that he had nothing to do with the band playing Noches de Cartagena of all songs.

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

By the time Javier prised his eyes open, unwelcome rays were already bursting through any gap in the blinds they could find. He craned his neck above Horacio’s still form, his watch on the nightstand reading 8:45am; ouch.

He’d survived on minimal sleep plenty of times, but he couldn’t remember getting home from a wedding past 5:00am before. If he was honest, they were tempted to call it a night once their private party for two ended. But it would have been rude to miss out on the dancers – professional this time - costumes and confetti of La Hora Loca. When in Colombia and all that.

They still had a few hours before they were to reconvene with the wedding party for the ultimate hangover cure of bandeja paisa, so Javier’s nose and moustache brushed over the nape of Horacio’s neck, arms slotting around him from behind.

A serene purr soon followed as Horacio stirred and leaned into Javier’s touch.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

Javier’s lips now worked their way to the side of Horacio’s neck, concentrating on a sweet spot below his ear.

“Liar.” Although Horacio’s whole body arched and his head tilted to give Javier what he wanted.

“Surprised I was awake before you, to be honest.”

“It took me a while to get to sleep…all of two and a bit hours ago.” Horacio winced into the pillow at how little rest he’d actually had.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah.” He raised his head and shifted so he was lying face-to-face with Javier. “I was just thinking about my family.”

“Makes sense.”

“When we arrived, we were so focused on the wedding. I didn’t let myself think about what comes next. But now…”

“I said the same to Connie last night. But…maybe we’re ready to rip off the band-aid.”

“Maybe. Part of me just wanted to get it out of the way when I was lying awake. But you nodded off in record time.”

“I think you wore me out.”

“But you enjoyed it, though?”

“It was perfect.” Javier closed the space between them, seeking out Horacio’s lips until he was met with a hum of agreement.

Javier pushed his luck, ducking below Horacio’s ear and descending over the column of his throat. Testing the waters to see if Horacio wanted the distraction Javier was more than willing to provide. “And how’s this?”

“Pretty fucking perfect too.”

Their kisses started languorous due to their lack of sleep, building to something fervid as Horacio nipped at Javier’s pout, catching it between his teeth until it was plump and swollen.

Javier retaliated, coaxing Horacio’s tongue towards his with expert flicks, tasting faint traces of last night’s cigars, until he captured it and sucked, long and thorough.

Limbs tangled between bedsheets soon became Javier whimpering facedown into a pillow whilst Horacio dipped and devoured, creating a slick glide between Javier’s thighs, the relief visceral when lining up and pushing forwards.

Horacio experimented with bracing yet measured rotations as he mouthed along the expanse of Javier’s trapezius, lost in a sea of broad muscle. He’d always loved watching the fabric of Javier’s shirts stretch and strain at his upper back, an eye-catching contrast to the narrow hips his jeans hugged oh so tightly. And now, the shirt wasn’t required, and he was the one setting Javier’s skin alight, triggering a visible response to every touch or movement like putty in Horacio’s hands.

Javier loved being vindicated that there was nothing wrong with Horacio’s hips whatsoever. Of being denied any forewarning of what came next from biting down on a pillow with his eyes screwed shut, the only way he could avoid prematurely spilling all over the sheets beneath him. It was a close call several times, calming breaths required to refocus, a request for Horacio to stop or slow down needed before it was game over.

Knowing he reduced Javier to begging because it was too much put Horacio on thin ice, and any more pleas like that would have finished him off. But the throbbing of his cock was in sync with his pulse, loud and insistent, and keeping still wasn’t having the same effect anymore. The salty taste on his tongue as it swiped over the nape of Javier’s neck where the silver chain still remained was an aphrodisiac he couldn’t ignore.

“Fuck me,” he rasped against Javier’s ear.

Without hesitation, Javier flipped onto his back, the loss of contact causing an ache of frustration. But it was replaced by straddling, groping and grinding, propelling Horacio up the mattress until his thighs were encased around Javier’s head.

Now it was Javier’s turn to feast, spreading Horacio with vigour, darting, licking, kissing, leaving trails of saliva, moaning as wet heat engulfed his cock and fingers danced over his balls.

The scratch of nails scored Horacio’s ass as he worked Javier over, lapping with greed, hollowing his cheeks, bobbing his head and switching up the strength of suction, putting everything they had learnt in Madrid into practice.

They pulled off before it was too late, grabbing the bottle of lube and lying supine across the mattress with Javier underneath Horacio.

Javier’s feet were planted flat on the bed, giving him enough purchase to buck upwards with force, one hand holding on at the waist whilst the other roamed freely across the plains of Horacio’s chest, kneading fistfuls of pectoral muscles and skimming over his rib cage down to his thighs.

Javier caressed each thigh in turn, circling and massaging with his thumb, marvelling at how the span of his hand only reached a fraction of the way around them. “I meant what I said last night. About how good a garter would look on you.” His glutes clenched as he propelled upwards for extra emphasis.

The seed was sewn in Javier’s head as he watched Horacio dress for the wedding. It wasn’t the first time Horacio had worn what was a standard part of his dress uniform. A trick of the trade amongst police and military to avoid sanctions for a creased shirt. But it was the first time Javier had seen the shirt stays sitting snugly around Horacio’s muscular thighs. It was the first time he wanted to slip his fingers underneath the neat straps, maybe twang them or pull them tighter with his teeth whilst on his knees. Or as Horacio rode him with his back to Javier, one side of his shirt unclipped, underwear and a single garter tantalisingly removed, the other kept secured in place.

A guttural groan rumbled through Horacio’s chest like he had read Javier’s mind. “What kind?” he breathed out, surprised by his eagerness to indulge Javier and how fast his hand shot to his cock.

Javier choked back expletives at Horacio’s question and the sight above him. “I was thinking something leather…with a buckle…to match your belt and boots.” Each punishing thrust broke up his speech with strained grunts as he spread Horacio’s thighs wider, manoeuvring him up and down at the same pace. “Maybe one on your arm too….and a harness…to go with your hat…cowboy.”

“Fuck,” Horacio panted into Javier’s mouth at an awkward angle on the pillow, stroking himself roughly. Sparks of arousal multiplied with each wrist jerk as he pictured the look Javier gave him during the belt contest. Imagined him buckling the firm yet supple material until it bound tightly against Horacio’s sensitive skin like armour only they were allowed to put on or take off.

Javier’s hand replaced Horacio’s as he let his cock be held in stasis, basking in the heat and comfort of their joined form. His fingers journeyed back to Horacio’s mouth, tracing over it until Horacio parted his lips for Javier to feed two, then three digits inside.

Horacio sucked down, tasting himself as well as Javier as he swirled and licked, swallowing past the knuckles; faster and greedier. But it wasn’t enough.

Maybe it was the false pretences kept up the previous day and night combined with what lay ahead, but Javier seemed too far away. He always did when they were in public, but even more so when wearing a three-piece suit at a romantic wedding that wasn’t and couldn’t be theirs. It was why they still relished the time they could spend alone. And why they had needed Madrid. Because all those hidden looks and blink-and-miss, ‘accidental’ unseen brushes of hands could only be suppressed for so long. Last night, it had spilt out as inadvertent foreplay. But now, they needed more.

“Turn around,” Horacio said after releasing Javier’s glistening fingers.

They lay heart-to-heart, Horacio on his back, legs wrapped around Javier. Javier’s tongue skimmed across the breadth of Horacio’s chest, taking his sweet time working over each nipple, the scrape of teeth causing Horacio to lift upwards until Javier plunged him back down again.

And Horacio didn’t resist, his mind and body in free flight as the weight of Javier anchored him, allowed him to feel each and every nerve vibrate, his arms sliding above his head in complete surrender, offering them for Javier to claim.

Javier plotted a course across any patch of bare skin he could reach, licking up and down Horacio’s underarms, inhaling the musky scent of sweat before switching to his triceps, then biceps. On the left, he mouthed his way along the muscles; any marks left intentional reassurances and promises for their present and future, their bodies mapped stories of their lives.

Along the right, he eased up when he came to the faded scar at the mid-point of Horacio’s shoulder, placing tender butterfly kisses over the blemished skin, blinking away visions of a bullet tearing it open and taking care not to let his teeth make unwanted contact with their past.

He gradually dragged his mouth away until their gaze met, the rise and fall of Horacio’s chest compelling Javier to lay his head on it, soothed by the steady beat and the massage at his scalp.

Satisfied, Javier lifted Horacio’s arms back above them, sweeping over the peaks and troughs of fortified shoulders, forearms and wrists until they slotted through fingers that clamped around his like a vice.

Javier rocked in a pounding rhythm, Horacio’s legs rising higher, pushing Javier deeper as compensation for being unable to reach out and touch. Horacio honed in on the lifeline at his fingertips, the stimulation against his prostate and the safety of Javier’s forehead, all thoughts about the upcoming days put on hold.

But Javier could sense Horacio needed more again. It was written all over the beautiful agony of his face and the silent request in his eyes.

So, hands unlocked to let fingernails brand skin, tug at damp strands of hair and graze over stubble, the metallic ice of the cross contrasting with the fire burning in the core of their chests as they danced more synchronised steps only they knew.

A change in angle caused a slow build of release to skirt the edges of Horacio’s limbs, toes curling as jolts of pleasure transformed into overflowing currents. The fuse was lit, a chain reaction of heat stoking a fire in the pit of his abdomen on the cusp of burning him from the inside out.

Another snap of hips, his own hand jerking his cock in a frenzy, a rush of white noise, shuddering, shaking breaths and a release of molten bliss across their stomachs.

The ripples kept coming as every sound, quiver or fluttering around Javier’s cock pushed him closer to the edge. With one final thrust, he finished inside Horacio, a desperate growl tearing from his throat, the brunt absorbed by Horacio’s left shoulder.

They didn’t move, preferring spent velvet kisses, the world now in slow motion.

Javier concentrated on Horacio’s nose and forehead, pouring everything into each gesture of affection until he whispered, “I love you. And it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“I love you too. And I know.”

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

They dozed a little too long after wearing each other out for the second time in 24 hours, so Horacio went ahead first, leaving Javier to shower and join him afterwards. But it made little difference to the proceedings as plenty of other guests were slow off the mark, too.

Tables were laid out around the nearby restaurant owned by Juana’s parents, leftover flower arrangements used as decorations because it would have been a shame to waste them. It was a much smaller space than the botanical gardens, but not all guests from the night before were expected to attend. A fact that brought immense relief to Horacio because he wouldn’t have to make conversation with a certain Colonel again.

Whilst waiting for Javier, he worked his way through his belated first coffee of the day and took a bite out of an arepa.

“Is there room for two more?”

Horacio raised his head to find Connie with Olivia in tow. “Of course.”

Connie did her best to encourage Olivia out of her hiding place behind her legs. “Come on, sweetie. Do you want something to eat?”

Olivia peeped out from behind Connie, eyeing Horacio with suspicion.

“Don’t mind her; she’s just a little shy and overtired this morning.”

“Some arepas are going spare if that helps?” Horacio kept his voice low and gentle, peering around Connie until he drew a curious expression out of Olivia.

Olivia looked up at her mother, who nodded for reassurance.

“Go ahead.”

Olivia left her hiding place and took the chair between Horacio and Connie, mumbling a thank you as she ate.

“Help yourself, too.”

“Oh, no, thanks. I’ll wait for Steve, whose painkillers should hopefully be kicking in about now. I don’t feel too bad, but I left him groaning into his pillow. Were you and Javi in the same state this morning?”

Horacio fought down a smirk with every strength of his being. “Something like that.”

“I knew it was a smart move to travel to Cartagena tomorrow instead.”

“Where are you staying?”

“A resort just off La Boquilla beach. Steve and I would’ve preferred something quieter, but there’s more to keep kids busy where we’re at.”

“I don’t know the area well, but it is a nice coast up there. With plenty more arepas.” Horacio directed his last sentence at Olivia, who had already made a start on her second.

She slowed her chewing before smiling at Horacio, who had remembered a trick or two from the younger days of dealing with his nieces and nephews. If all else failed, food usually won them round.

“I’ve only seen Medellín and Bogotá, so it’ll be nice to get out of the big cities for a change.”

Horacio cleared his throat and took a long sip of his drink. “Yeah, it will.”

Connie leaned across the table to retrieve a freshly replenished pot of coffee and poured into her cup. “It’s a shame we won’t get a chance to see Manizales this time. But we’ll be thinking about it anyway.”

Horacio was startled out of his own coffee and met Connie’s eye, unsure how to respond before settling on a silent nod of thanks. “Maybe next time if all goes well.”

“I think we’d like that. Breaks like this are few and far between now we’re both back working.”

“How’s Miami these days?”

“Busy now we’re juggling our schedules with Liv’s. And we still have bad days sometimes, of course.” Connie gave Horacio a pointed look when talking of bad days, choosing her words carefully with Olivia in earshot. “But things are better now we’ve got more routine again…more stability.”

“Sounds familiar. I find being in the same country helps, too,” Horacio added with a wry smile.

“Exactly. Now we’re out the other side.”

“Yeah.”

They shared a knowing look, not wanting to say too much in front of Olivia about everything they had been through. It was hard to believe how much had happened and changed in the last few years, and it was clear everyone was still processing it all.

“How’s your arm doing now?” Connie asked in a hurry, keeping the mood light for the sake of her daughter. 

“It’s as good as new. Well, almost. The ranch kept me moving. I think I built back more muscle than I had before. And I kept up strengthening exercises in Madrid.”

“Wow, you’re doing better than most of my patients. I never had to tell you off once.”

“I don’t follow many orders, but it wasn’t worth my arm – or life - to ignore yours. So, thank you.”

“Try telling that to Steve...or this one here. But seriously, I’m just glad I could help. Especially when I hear you might be making ranch life more permanent?” There was a conspiratorial tone to her question. A question she clearly knew the answer to already but was having fun asking regardless.

“That’s the plan, hopefully. Madrid was always supposed to be temporary.”

“But it helped?”

“Yeah. It was exactly what we needed. And maybe you’ll find Cartagena is what you need.”

“I think we will.”

There was that look again, one that spoke volumes about their shared understanding, even if their experiences were different.

Horacio’s gaze drifted up to Javier, who still wore his aviators until he flopped down at their table, already reaching for a cup and the coffee pot.

“Morning.”

“Afternoon, Javi,” Connie greeted with a wink.

“Very funny. But looks like I still beat your husband.”

“Don’t suppose you saw him on your way over?”

“Nope. I’m sure he’ll appear once the food does.”

Javier was right, of course. A worse-for-wear Steve arrived as the bandeja paisa was brought to the tables before they tucked into huge hot trays of beans, rice, chicharrón, chorizo, carne en polvo, plantain, avocado, fried egg and more arepas.

They ate in comfortable silence, letting the food work its magic and fill them up for the rest of the day, highlights from the reception still fresh in everyone’s minds despite their current weariness.

Before long, it was time to wave the newlyweds off on their honeymoon to Bequia. Their goodbyes were short and sweet, knowing they would be keeping in touch long after the celebrations were over, especially when Trujillo’s parting words were, “I’ll be waiting for my ranch invitation in the post.”

And even through the loud crowd of well-wishers, he managed to hear the mumbled “Cheeky fucker” echoed back at him in unison.

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

Javier and Horacio stayed to finish their coffees once the beeps of the wedding car disappeared into the distance, the majority of the party now dispersed and leaving them sat alone.

“Pops rang just before I left the hotel. Think he wanted to check in before…well, y’know.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. The only bit of news he asked me to pass on was about him being offered first refusal on Ciro’s and Malena’s place.”

The fact the Ortegas were selling up wasn’t a surprise. Javier and Horacio had spent last Christmas in Laredo again, where Ciro and Malena had brought around a fresh batch of sopaipillas over the festive period. In the preceding months, they had gone back and forth on moving, but by December, they were set on putting the farm on the market in the New Year.

Horacio nodded slowly, his brow drawn tight across his forehead as he considered this new development carefully. “Makes sense.”

“Do you think he’ll seriously consider it at his age?”

“I think he has to. We buy the majority of our feed grain from them. Selling to an outsider could risk price hikes and shortages, or the new owners might want to supply to someone else. It’d be a big gamble. But if your father bought them out, then kept their staff on, used their expertise, maybe even increased the livestock with some of the extra land…I think it could be workable.”

Horacio was aware he was being watched and glanced up to face his audience. “What?”

“Nothing.” Although Javier knew his face told another story. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak such fluent cowboy before.”

“I’m not a –”

“Not yet,” Javier finished for him. “And I never said it was a bad thing.”

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

After every funeral, an additional service was held exclusively for CNP officers to attend. Whilst gravestones were located across Colombia in countless cemeteries, a modest wooden cross bearing a name was planted for each loss in the consecrated soil around the corner from Carlos Holguín.

Horacio had paid his respects here more times than he wished to remember, but he still wasn’t prepared for how vast the sea of the dead had become since his last visit. It was a silent expanse covering the grass for as far as the eye could see, the sole sign of life the weeds and wildflowers shooting up between the rows he walked between.

He recognised some names and could clearly picture their ashen-faced relatives as though it was yesterday when he stood on their doorsteps, hat in hand and solemn expression fixed in place. Others were indistinguishable from the rest. An indicator of the extent of the collateral damage and how long he had been away now.

As he stood in his civilian clothes, he felt strangely underdressed. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to wear his usual ranch attire since being back in Colombia and had returned to the beige khakis and polo shirts that felt like an unofficial uniform of their own. One that allowed him to get away with wholly unofficial business in the past, but today wasn’t about him. Today was about them. All of them. No matter who they were.

Perhaps against his better judgement, with the help of Trujillo, he had located the graves of Diana Turbay and Carolina García Velásquez. He didn't allow himself to remember Carolina’s name at the time, even though she had been plastered all over the papers alongside mysterious references to an “unidentified officer of the National Police” leading the raid on La Dispensaria. A story eerily repeated with Diana’s death.

He didn’t linger at their gravesides. But on those occasions, just like this one, Horacio bowed his head, recited a silent prayer and made the sign of the cross.

“Lo siento,” were the only words spoken before he retreated from the churchyard.

He had done all he could here for now, and it was time to…not forget but to move on. It was time to face his fears and look to the future. It was time to let old ghosts rest once and for all.

[hajihiko]

god the idea of all of class 77 just having this weird special bond with eachother is so special to me 😭😭 i do wonder, though- given all of them are dealing with a LOT, and recovery isn't pretty, do you think fights/kind of lashing out would ever happen? if so, with who, and how do you think the group would handle that kind of stuff?

Oh for SUUUURE I dont go into it as much, because I too love people being special to each other and the sweetness of it, but these are messy people in uniquely messy situation so for sure they're gonna clash

Like, no WAY Sonia and Souda don't have a huge blowout at some point, maybe before anyone starts waking up even. Sonia deserves to have a moment where she just fuckin yells at him and lets it all out and makes him take her seriously enough to apologize and think about himself, and then they can continue being their own weird brand of friends.

Fuyuhiko still has anger issues, even though he's trying hard to be a kinder person, so he's definitely gonna have moments of snapping at people. I think he's a little too cowed to be arguing with Mahiru, but I could see him having it out with Hiyoko once or twice. I also think things might be a bit tense between him and Peko while Peko adapts to their new non-indentured friendship.

And yeah Hiyoko still has a major attitude problem and tbh, TBH, I think she deserves to get a little smack of "Not Acceptable" consequences. I think she might have a fight at Fuyuhiko, and OOF... Mikan. I think those two just need to be kept away from each other for a while after waking up, possibly the closest thing the group gets to repeating the murder part of the game. Mahiru employed to keep an eye on Hiyoko and Hajime keeping an eye on Mikan, shit probably gets real tense.

I think Impostor is... not NOT mad at Teru, but calm about it, so there's no huge fight, just cold shoulders and awkwardness.

And then there's Nagito. Yknow. Hes a whole topic in himself, I'd imagine Teru doesn't feel super warm towards him and there's the really bad tension between him and Hajime too. Hajime *would* sort of be keeping an eye on him, but. That's not good for Hajime's own psyche, so he is forcibly replaced by various others.

That's just already-established grievances. However, based on just. Unfortunate clashing;

Fuyuhiko has anger issues, Souda has some history of abuse. They probably need to find a balance there, where Souda never actually feels unsafe and Fuyuhiko manages to let out steam without being taken too seriously. He also might clash with and need to watch himself around Mahiru and Mikan.

TeruTeru gets sat the FUCK down and told that if he crosses people's boundaries, there will be Consequences. ESPECIALLY if he tries any shit with Akane or Mikan.

Hiyoko does not get to be Like That with Mikan anymore. She tries, just as a first reaction (her attitude is probably a defense mechanism and she does feel unsafe around Mikan), but it's not allowed to go as far as it used to. Not with anyone else either. Also Mikan probably needs to keep a distance herself.

I've talked about Mikan on her own before and the potential of her being s more complex case than the rest, on account that she might remember her entire time with Junko and not just gradual bits of it. If so, I made / am making the little Eye Yoink comic bits, which would probably be the most serious conflict. I'd just imagine that she's kind of .. generally unstable, and shouldn't be left alone with anyone too long. I kind of like the idea that she like.... well if she's the only one who fully remembers what things were like in school, that's already very alienating, and she might try to intentionally trigger other people's memories (maybe not even out of malice, just desperation and wanting someone else to Get It). But that might be a big problem for people who are just not ready to remember all that stuff. People who are already a bit grey on the moral spectrum (Fuyuhiko, Hiyoko, Peko) and people who have a hard time dealing with who they used to be (Nekomaru, Gundham, Sonia... kind of everyone tbh but some are better at compartmentalizing).

FSR I've just decided that Gundham is in a physically bad condition when he wakes up, and ofc Akane. That would probably be a bit rough to deal with, two people who base a lot of their self-worth on being strong (very different ideas of strength though). That's more of an internal struggle that might have some collateral damage but still. I can see them getting frustrated and lashing out at people like Nekomaru and Ibuki, who have obvious and abundant energy and are more okay with their unfamiliar bodies.

Ryota is just generally Anxious around absolutely everyone. Thankfully Impostor is very protective of him and takes good care of him, and people like Ibuki and Akane are quick to sort of forcefully adopt him, but I'll bet there's moments where he just locks himself in his room for a couple of days because Fuyuhiko yelled at him or Hiyoko called him a smelly shrimp boy or Gundham cursed him or something.

Nagito needs to curb The Way He Talks about stuff, at least a little, because it tends to send people dangerously close to to a bad place. He only wants what's best for everyone!...kinda? But he tends to just give off the opposite energy. Also boy needs to learn some self worth. So for his sake and everyone else's, he needs some mental assistance, but the person most qualified for that is the person that he clashed with the very most. I dont know what the solution to that is lol its probably an ongoing conflict

The good thing is, there's many of them! So I think whenever there is a big fight or a lot of conflict, someone can always step up for both parties and help keep the peace, without disrupting their routine too much. No one ever needs to be left out, at least.

[linnoya-writes]

Things I always hear Kat*angers argue (with counter-arguments):

1) Zuko and Katara’s elements might showcase an “opposites attract” idea, but they’re the same people: both are hot-headed and stubborn and would be at each other’s throats.  Katara and Aang carry the “soft boy/head strong girl” dynamic that is more healthy.

Let’s dive into this idea that Katara and Aang compliment each other better based on their natural responses to danger/conflict:

Aang is playful and cheerful where Katara is serious and focused.

Aang is a patient and peaceful soul where Katara is quick to anger.

Aang encourages Katara to reach for the sky, and Katara keeps him grounded.

Okay-- so it’s safe to say that whenever one partner is angry/frustrated, the other approaches them in a calm, collected supportive manner... right?

Actually, look closer.  These fun-loving, playful and peaceful kid-like traits embedded in Aang’s personality are traits that Katara always had in her-- she just needed someone like Aang to remind her that she had them.  The focused, serious and disciplined traits of Katara are all traits that Aang should be adopting into his own sense of maturity as he gradually becomes more confident and determined to be The Avatar.  

It’s not so much that Katara and Aang compliment each other enough to manage a relationship together, but more that they inspire each other to become more complex, beautiful, individual human beings.  Romantic potential between them has nothing to do with that.  

This “soft boy/head strong girl” idea of Kataang doesn’t even address the way Katara always hides her dark side/emotional issues from Aang in order to be a capable “voice of reason” for him on any given moment, or the fact that Katara is always defending Aang like a mother to a son, chasing him every time he literally or figuratively runs away from problems.  The dynamic between them is an imbalance of maturity rather than a balance of character traits.

Which leads me to Zutara’s dynamic; yes, Zuko and Katara are quite hot-headed, stubborn individuals who easily get frustrated when people don’t see things their way.  They have been at each other’s throats in the past... but here’s what people forget -- they stopped fighting the moment Zuko learned the error of his ways, stood by Katara’s side without judgment when she faced YonRha, and they became an unstoppable well-oiled machine of a duo who understood, respected and trusted each other enough to lay down their lives for the other.

It isn’t to say that Zuko and Katara would never argue or fight again, but the difference here is that their shared maturity, their understanding and mutual respect for one another would keep them at bay to hear each other’s point of view.  They have seen the darkest sides to each other and would know how to approach it calmly and collectively.  Neither of them would downplay or ignore the other’s anger; they would face each other until the conflict is resolved.

And that’s why Zutara’s dynamic, despite sharing similar character traits, holds a lot more weight and power that Kataang.

2) “Their bond is so epic that not wanting them together is like not wanting Han Solo/Princess Leia to be together.”

Okay, so, I’m not completely disagreeing here.  

I do understand that Katara and Aang had a spiritual connection since the beginning (very much like how Hayao Miyazaki sets up two protagonists to have a special, unspoken bond) and the adventures/obstacles they face together make their relationship all the much stronger.  I see Katara seeing Aang as the culmination of all of her dreams come true with the revelation that he is the Avatar, and that she brought him back, and I see Aang seeing Katara as the person who not only welcomed him into this second chance to fulfill his destiny, but to also guide him as a voice of reason into this darker war-torn world that he isn’t prepared for.  As Bryke once commented, Katara and Aang are the “DNA of the show” and I interpret this as the two of them moving the story forward... taking the initiative to go from plot-point to plot-point to fulfill all the needed tasks (ie. finding Aang bending masters) in order to have Aang become a fully realized Avatar.

My argument here is, why does it have to turn romantic?  Why can’t the bond remain as a spiritual, wholesome connection between friends?  Even Roku and Toph brought up the idea of friendship being such a powerful bond that it can transcend lifetimes in “The Avatar and the FireLord”... and I think the beauty of Aang and Katara is that it was a powerful friendship that occurred serendipitously and yet perfectly, setting up the entire arc of the ATLA story.  To me there is more emotional weight in keeping Katara and Aang as life-long friends rather than making things romantic.

The problem with turning their bond into a romance is that it brings up a lot more issues.  Katara is not a nomad like Aang; she would give up her own personal wants/needs to not just be at Aang’s side but travel everywhere with him as the Avatar’s SO, when we know that she is a girl who prefers setting roots, building connections and helping people for as long as its needed (”Imprisoned” and “The Painted Lady”).  She has a strong connection to her family in the SWT and would want to rebuild her home after the war and especially train new water benders.  Her SWT culture that greatly values quality family time, a meat-based diet, clothing made by animal skins would also clash with Aang’s personal tastes-- he’s not even discreet about how much he doesn’t like SWT food.  Furthermore, Aang as the Avatar would have so much responsibility fulfilling his work to the world that he would have a lot of trouble understanding the emotional needs/wants to Katara as a partner-- especially since in the show, he’s so accustomed to seeing her be mature enough to handle tough situations calmly and collectively.  Aang has even repeatedly avoided, ignored or downright down-played Katara’s angry and aggressive outbursts, so it goes to show that he wouldn’t know how to properly “be there” for her dark moments.  Katara has gotten accustomed to setting aside her own emotional headspace to instead nurture/coddle/support Aang.  It becomes a very lonely, very unsung existence, carrying that responsibility to be “collected” one in the relationship.  It’s easy to determine that this would continue as they’d get older, and Katara would continue to carry that heavy burden of always “being there” for Aang, but not vice versa.  

The emotional imbalance in a romance between Katara and Aang would be palpable (and it’s implied in LoK and the comics that they did have problems) especially since healthy relationships are meant to express equality and partnership-- where the two people interchangeably give love and support as needed.   

So yes, Kataang is indeed an “epic” relationship in the sense of friendship, but turning it into a romance would come at the cost of the individual characters’ wants/needs and development, and the healthy dynamic that they had as friends would suffer.

3) “But... what about Aang??  He’s loved her since the beginning and would be so devastated from Katara’s rejection, he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his duty as the Avat--”

Stop.  Just-- I’m gonna stop you right there.

It is not Katara’s responsibility to be there for Aang, especially as PR/damage control for the Avatar.  She does not owe Aang a relationship just because he harbored strong feelings for her, or because he’s grown to depend on her over time, or because he has this unbelievable power of the Avatar State that he hasn’t learned to control without her influence. 

Aang is the one who must grow up, who needs to be the Avatar and understand how to manage this power and sense of duty to the world.  On his own.

Aang needs to learn to be enough on his own.

... And while we’re on this topic, it is never healthy for someone to be figuratively “stuck” or “trapped” in a relationship just because their partner would be a lost, broken wreck without them.  

That is called “codependency,” and that is not okay.

[dodo-begone]

When you Wish Upon a Star

Pairing: Karlnapity x Reader

Request: Can you maybe write some poly karlnapity x reader fluff with a bit of angst?

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: memory loss, angst, cursing, loss/relationship strain, depression (?)

A/n: haha memory issues go brrrrrr. Sorry if it's bad, i wanted angst but didn't know how-

Your world was slowly becoming a monochrome film. So meaningless and alien to what your life once was. All color and life had left and all that remained was an empty shell of what once was. Your boys were no longer sticking together, acting like the loving couple that they are. Or were. You couldn’t tell what the status of y’all relationship was. It felt like everything was falling apart. Nobody was communicating with each other and they weren’t coming home sometimes, going missing for days on end with no contact.

Now sometimes business could be rough and long, so that wasn’t an abnormal thing. No, the issue was how increasingly common this “uncommon” occurrence was. Anxiety boiled in your chest with every night that passed without your lovers. Cuddling with just one wasn’t the same as with them all. You just wished everything would return to its original state; all four of your being a giddy and affectionate couple. Back to that honeymoon stage.

Everything was becoming so different, much less vibrant. Like a depression had fallen onto y’alls happily-ever-after. You only had Sapnap for comfort, and vice versa. There was no Quackity to rely on or Karl to giggle all the worries all away. And it was painfully obvious how it was affecting everybody, yet nobody did anything to fix it.

Quackity never came to y’all for comfort. He was always at his damn casino or scheming a way to end Techno’s anarchy. Slowly he just stopped talking to y’all like he loved you. Now you and Sapnap were like a war council, but even then he wouldn’t listen to y’all advice. He’d just rant to y’all about how much he despised Techno and wanted to kill him, destroy the damn god complex the man had.

But Quackity was blind to himself; he was on a high horse and saw himself as a worthy opponent, somebody who could subdue such a savage beast. Every time Quackity came home bloody and on the brink of death, it killed you on the inside. Why wasn’t he coming to y’all about the issues? Why did he think he was so alone in his endeavor?

And you didn’t even want to mention Karl’s condition. He was acting so odd now. More forgetful and aloof. It was like he was a complete stranger now. Your interactions were slowly becoming shorter and shorter, less meaningful and shallow. From meaningful, deep and loving talk during cuddle sessions to a curt, cold and disconnected. Sapnap even tried to get information out of him, but he stayed closed and guarded like a clam. Then he’d also come home with some injuries, but there was never an explanation for why he got hurt. Quackity at least admitted to what happened, so you knew what possible dangers he was facing. But Karl? He was an absolute mystery now.

Karl wasn’t the type of person to be so mysterious. Well, cold and mysterious that is. Definitely a mystery though, but so charismatic that you could easily push that fact aside. He used to be so cute and “unsuspecting”. Now that’s the same case, but subtract the “cute and unsuspecting” part. His newfound apathy worried you to no end. It was like he was completely detached from reality.

It was such a silly thing, but you wished for the stars, asking them to help you. Please, you needed your boys back. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep living through this cycle.

Quackity’s hyper-independence and Karl’s now apathetic attitude was disheartening. And the effect it had on Sapnap was heartbreaking. He kept blaming himself for the relationship for falling apart. You reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, but you were hypocritical. Telling someone that it wasn’t their fault that a relationship was failing yet blaming oneself for the same thing? Honestly it wasn’t just one singular person’s fault; everyone was to blame. Nobody was communicating, which harmed the relationship you once thrived in.

So you begged the stars for guidance, for a chance at mending your dying relationship. There wasn’t a way you could live without your lovers.

You should’ve been more careful for what you wished for.

________________________________________________

Sapnap commed you one day, which wasn’t abnormal by any means. You two talked throughout the day multiple times. That was the only consistent thing that was still steady. A constant in your ever changing lives. But when you got on call with him, he sounded different, desperate and panicked. Your anxiety started to peak when he spoke, but the subject of the call made time stop. No way- there was no way.

You fucking chunked whatever the hell you were holding or doing out of your hands. It was way less important now. Honestly you can’t even remember what you were doing. All you knew was that you had to get to them and swiftly. No time could be wasted. Sapnap needed you right now. Your boys needed you. Everything was on the line. Well, for you it felt like that. Your boys were your everything; if one more “unfortunate” accident occurred to them, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You were absolutely failing at protecting them. They protected and loved you for so long, and you wanted to protect them now.

Sapnap had begged, nearly demanding you come to Karl’s library that instant. Karl had apparently appeared there, and he wasn’t looking so good. He said he also contacted Quackity so he should be there too, but who knows if he’ll actually be there.

When the library came into sight, your anxiety both increased yet decreased, allowing joy to grow alongside it. The combination was odd, one that sounds like it shouldn’t be put together. Yet that’s exactly what you felt; bitterness and cold with some warmth hidden beneath the surface like a sun chasing the night way at dawn. You bolted into the building, frantically sweeping the immediate area for Sapnap and Karl. No sign of them. Your panic grew exponentially. Where were they? You yelled out, hoping to hear any sign of them.

Some commotion was made from your left. Walking closer to it, you caught sight of Sapnap’s shoes. He peaked around the corner to check the new visitor, and almost ran to you. The moment he stood, he hesitated. He took a step forward and stopped, looking between you and where you presumed Karl was. Ultimately he just took a few more steps toward you before turning back to Karl. When you arrived at Sapnap’s side, you dropped to your knees alongside him. There one of your worst fears faced you.

Karl lay on the ground, unconscious and bloody. He was so pale, it scared you. How long was he like this? What happened to him? Would he make it? You didn’t want to know the answer to it. Specifically, you didn’t want to know in case he wasn’t going to make it. Seeing him like this, it’d hurt too much to know the reality. You just wanted your old picture-perfect life back. Yes, it wasn’t absolutely perfect, but it was perfect for you and your boys.

So much time must’ve passed with you and Sapnap just watching Karl, tending to the wounds he had. It was fortunate that only his head showed clear signs of damage. Yet that was also a very unfortunate thing. There could be so much potential damage done and you’d never know if he was or wasn’t okay unless something happened to him.

You were so focused on Karl that you hadn’t realized that Quackity had joined y’all until he gently laid his hand on your shoulder, which shocked you out of your trance. Quackity’s eyes and face were red and puffy, tears trailed down his face and he was out of breath and panting. But he was here. You jumped up to hug him, pulling him down to the ground with you, Sapnap and Karl. Sapnap joined in the hug without a word. A sniffle left Sapnap, but you never mentioned it. This was a very stressful situation.

After a short period of pseudo peace, the exhaustion finally started to take ahold of y’all with the adrenaline slowly leaving your systems. Talking it out for a bit, after seeing how visibly tired everyone was, it was decided that y’all would watch over him in shifts. There was a small squabble for who’d be first; each of you wanted to be first to sate your guilt. It wasn’t long until a victor was declared; Quackity would take the first shift. Then Sapnap and finally you. The plan fucking pissed you off so much and there wasn’t a reason for it to. It just did, and you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But you didn’t question it. If conflict could be avoided, then it’d be best to go along with the plan.

One moment you were blinking, trying to fight off sleep and the next Quackity was shaking you awake. You were so groggy and barely heard what he said. It must’ve been so obvious to Quackity that you just weren’t hearing jack shit, but he kept repeating- something. You actually had no clue if he was repeating something or just babbling. All you heard was noise and his mouth was moving. What could be so important that he was just fucking shaking you like a damn earthquake- oH SHIT!

Without a second thought, you jump to your feet and flop just a bit closer to Karl. You got up too quickly but you made it to your goal, kinda, so score! Scrambling to your feet, more accurately your knees, you view the situation.

All you could see was Karl sitting up and talking to Sapnap. That’s all that mattered though- he was alright. Karl was alive and thriving- okay that was debatable- but still! Your Karl was okay!

You’re on your feet in a flash once again, flinging yourself into Karl’s arms. The relief that washed over you was immense. Cleansing you of all your anxieties.

Yet he didn’t hug you back. Matter of fact, he did nothing at all. He froze up. Though it went unnoticed by you. Salty tears dripped down your face and splattered onto his jacket. Quackity joined in on your group hug, cry and babbling his apologies along the way.

Suddenly you and Quakity are shoved away, landing into Sapnap’s waiting arms. Saying you were shocked would be an understatement. Confused also couldn’t, yet they were the first words your frazzled mind could conjure.

“Who are you all?”

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF

              !!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!

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Let’s be honest for a while, okay?

ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well. 

It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot. 

Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title. 

Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):

1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great. 

2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court. 

2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next. 

3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know. 

4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.  

5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick. 

6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it.  They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not. 

7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment. 

And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER? 

This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better.  I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.

ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic. 

[tomorrow-and-tomorrows]

SNK 139.5: Towards the Final Pages with no Final Answers

The final pages of the updated ending are bold, but I think ultimately more evocative than the original preliminary ending.

Even after the intensely polarized reader reception that took issue with the lack of storytelling precision and clarity when it was most needed, SNK chose to end with a decisively ambiguous symbol. In literature, a symbol is something that clearly means something -- but with the most "literary" symbols, their meaning cannot be absolutely defined; any attempted answer as to what a symbol represents has no finality or certainty, and interpretation will remain ever open to debate. A symbol both invites and resists interpretation.

Naturally, the immediate response to the symbolic tree on the final page is to try answering the invitation to the question, "What does it mean?"

One prominent answer I've seen is that it symbolizes the continuation of the cycle of war and violence either because a) of the symbolic parallel to Ymir or b) on a more literal level, that it implies the actual potential revival of new era of Titans. A reasonable interpretation either way, but also, I think, an incomplete one.

The first reason for this is that "the endless cycle of war" was already clearly and powerful represented in the preceding panels:

The cycle of war was already continuing in the decades or centuries before the child arrived at the tree. A culminating image symbolizing the persistence or resurgence of an era of war as the final panel would thus arguably be redundant and unnecessary.

Furthermore, the chapter is entitled "Toward the Tree on That Hill." If the tree were simply a symbol of war, by implication the chapter could equally be called 'toward the endless cycle of war'. But such a relentlessly bleak and tonally flat ending sentiment would be firmly incongruous with the story's recurrent conviction in the equal cruelty and beauty of the world -- a conviction that I believe it has been faithful to all the way to its end.

The Long Defeat

But while on this topic of war, let's linger a moment on the "cruelty" side and the consequence of this wordless construction and subsequent destruction of a city -- the most bold and possibly controversial additional panels that are also my personal favourite additions.

One objection that has emerged against this brief sequence of Paradis' apparent destruction is that it renders the entire story to be "pointless". Eren's 80% Rumbling, Armin's diplomatic peace talks between the remnants of the Allied Nations and Paradis, and before that, the proposal of the 50-year plan and Zeke's euthanasia plan... everything, to the very beginning to the Survey Corps' dreams of some kind of freedom; was it all for nothing? All that striving, that hope, that final promise bestowed upon Armin: was it all a pointless story? Even more radically, is the story suggesting that Eren might as well have continued the Rumbling to 100% of the earth? Was Zeke's euthanasia plan the cruel but correct choice all along? What was the point of rejecting the 50-year plan if that had a greater chance of success at preventing this outcome?

I think Isayama suddenly pulling back to such a long-term view of history to the scale of decades or even centuries into the future calls for a reorientation in attitude towards exactly what kind of story we have been reading. Yes, if the metric is Paradis' survival, maybe it was indeed all "pointless". But that's also to say that, on the broadest scale, SNK is a story about futility, that it is a deliberate representation of the struggle to make one's actions historically meaningful.

In the long view of history, all the events, from Grisha running beyond the wall to see the airships and the first breaking of Wall Maria to Erwin's sacrifices, Paradis' discovery of the outside world, and finally to the Battle of Heaven and Earth, it would all merely be a handful of chapters in the history textbooks of the future. A future in which war and geopolitical conflict will continue even without Titans. That does not mean that all paths to the future are equal -- the 50-year plan would not have put an end to Titans, and Zeke's euthanasia plan distorts utilitarian ethics into just another form of oppression; there are better and worse decisions that lead to more and less degrees of suffering, but no decision can ever be the final one.

The additional panels remind us that in history, there never exists a singular "Final Solution". The reason there are readers who vehemently support Eren to have flattened 100% of the world, and the reason the Paradisians supported the oppressive, authoritarian, proto-fascist Jaegar Faction under Floch and even after the Rumbling, is that because they want to believe that a Final Solution to end conflict exists and will work. They resist the fundamental uncertainty and complexity of the situation, instead preferring a singular, unified, and coherent Answer to Paradis' struggle to survive. I'm reminded of the scholar Erich Auerbach's theorization of why fascism appealed to many people during periods of political and social crisis, change, and uncertainty. Writing in exile after fleeing Nazi Germany, he observed that:

"The temptation to entrust oneself to a sect which solved all problems with a single formula, whose power of suggestion imposed solidarity, and which ostracized everything which would not fit in and submit - this temptation was so great that, with many people, fascism hardly had to employ force when the time came for it to spread through the countries of old European culture." (from Mimesis p. 550)

This acutely describes the Jaegar Faction's rise to power and continued dominance in Paradis. But their promise of unity, of a single formula to wipe out the rest of the world either literally through the Rumbling, or to dominate them with military force, is a false one. Even if Eren had Rumbled 100% of the world instead of 80%, history would still go on. The external threat of the world may have been eliminated, but internal conflict and violence would still continue onward throughout the generations born on top of the blood of the rest of the world. Needless to say, out of all the options, Eren's 80% Rumbling is the very epitome of perpetuating the cycle of violence as it creates tens of thousands of war orphans like Eren once was, and it would justify employing violence for one's own self-interest to an extreme degree. For the generations to come that would valourize Eren as a hero, it would set a dangerous precedent for what degree of destruction is acceptable for self-defence -- nothing short of the attempt to flatten the entire world. It is no surprise that Paradis would meet a violent end when its founding one-party rule of the Jaegar Faction has their roots in such unapologetically bloody foundations.

Neither the 80% Rumbling nor the militaristic, ultra-nationalistic Jaegar faction that come to govern Paradis are glamourized as the "correct" solution to ensuring Paradis' future. (This can also put to rest any accusations of SNK's ending as "fascist" or "imperialist" propaganda, since the island's modern nation that they founded ends in war. All nations must fall eventually, but not all do in such blatant destruction). Importantly, neither is Armin's diplomatic mission naively idealized as that which permanently achieves world peace. No singular or unifying formula can work because reality is complicated. Entrusting oneself to seemingly simple Answers is simply insufficient, even if they are ideals of peaceful negotiation; that method may work given the right conditions, but the world will always eventually complicate its feasibility.

After all in the real world, there's the absurd irony that some in the West had called the First World War "The War to End all Wars". These days, WWI is merely one long chapter in our textbooks just a few pages away from the even longer chapter of the Second World War that is followed by all the rest of the conflicts that have followed since then even with the establishment of diplomatic organizations like the United Nations. In this sense, showing Paradis' eventual downfall is perhaps the only way to end such a series that is so concerned with history, from King Fritz's tribal expansion into empire, the rise and fall of Marleyan ascendency, and finally of the survival and apparent shattering of Paradis.

From its beginning to its end, SNK has poignantly evoked J.R.R. Tolkien's conception of history as The Long Defeat. In one character's words, "together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat". That is to say, "no victory is complete, that evil rises again, and that even victory brings loss".

No heroes, only humans

Eren's desperate, fatalistic resignation to committing the Rumbling, along with the characters' rejection of all the rest of the earlier plans to ensure Paradis a future, are merely the actions of human beings to that began with the need to find not even necessarily a Final Answer, but at least an acceptable and feasible one for the time being. But the characterization of Eren's confusion, childishness, and regret in the final chapter is startlingly real in how it demonstrates how, all along, we have been dealing not with grand heroes, but simply people who have no answers at all. SNK has always been about failures - and often ironic failures; it has always been a story about painful and frequently futile struggle.

People make mistakes, they can be short-sighted, selfish, biased, immature, petty, and irrational, and I think the ending follows through with depicting the consequences of that.

Erwin's self-sacrifice before being able to reach the basement (and his regression to a childhood state in the moments before his death), Kenny's futile chasing after that universal compassion he had seen in Uri, Shadis never being acknowledged by history despite his final heroic action, and so on -- these stories of ironic, futile failures are still meaningful in their mere striving. Eren's ending and Paradis' demise despite Armin's endeavour to ensure them a peaceful future are entirely consistent with this.

SNK certainly follows the shounen trope in which young individuals are bestowed great power and correspondingly great responsibility, and must then reconcile the burden of possessing that greatness on which the fate of the world depends. Yet it is equally defined by its representation of the state that us normal human beings confront everyday: the struggle against the apparent powerlessness to enact any meaningful or lasting change at all. Simultaneously, this helpless state does not exempt us from the responsibility to act in whatever small capacity we are able to resist oppression, ideological extremism, and the perpetuation of violence.

Towards That Symbol

That was a rather long but vital digression about the additional "construction and destruction" pages. To return to the issue of the symbolism in the final panel, here I will turn from seemingly affirming the tree as symbolizing the cycle of violence, towards what I think is the greater complexity of what the tree might "actually" symbolize.

As I've said above, I don't believe that the final chapter title is synonymous with 'toward the endless cycle of war'. In tone, theme, and characterization, SNK has always been defined by the tension between cruelty and beauty, the will to violence and the underlying desire for peace, and the rest of the contradictory impulses that all simultaneously coexist. The end of SNK as a whole commits to a similar lack of closure, ambiguity, and interpretive openness.

So far I have rambled on about only a view of the perpetual "cruelty" of history. Where, then, is the "beauty"?

In short, the "tree = cycle of violence" interpretation is obviously based on how that this tree recalls the original tree in which the spine creature, as the source of the power of the Titans, resided. But it's worth first considering, what exactly is this creature? We seem to get our answer in the chapter that most precisely crystallizes the dual "cruelty and beauty" of the world:

The spine creature might be said to be life itself. Or more specifically, the will of life to perpetuate itself, for no reason at all but for the fleeting moments in which we feel distinctly glad to have existed in the world.

The creature at the source of the Titans, and in extension the Titans themselves, is neither inherently a positive or negative, "good" or "evil", creative or destructive force. It's both and all of those at once. As with any power, the Titans were merely a tool that was put to use to oppressive ends.

So as I now suggest that the tree at the end is symbolically a "Tree of Life", I don't at all mean "life" in the typically celebratory or optimistic sense: rather, I mean it in the ambiguous, ambivalent, uncertain, and complex sense that has been evoked throughout the above discussion of the inevitable continuation of war.

The title "Toward The Tree on That Hill" is derived from its associations with Eren and Mikasa, but more specifically of course, from Armin's affirmation of existence. However, the tree as a symbol of existential affirmation is undercut with the revelation that, despite Armin's diplomatic mediation between the Allied Nations and Paradis, the island nation never escapes war just as no nation in the history of the earth has ever fully escaped war.

The image of Armin running toward that life-affirming tree by the end becomes twisted and complicated, as the image of the anonymous child approaching the Tree of Life evokes both awe at its beauty and grandeur, and a deep dread at the foreboding of its cyclical return to Ymir's tree that signalled the beginning of a bloody era.

And I think that is precisely it: Life is not some idealized, beautiful vision that we always want to run toward; it is also ironic, complicated, and dreadful. It is ambivalent. Like a literary symbol, the meaning of life cannot be pinned down absolutely. The tree therefore becomes itself a symbol of uncertainty, of an open future that is cyclical both in its beauty and war.

As a final observation, it is surely no coincidence that, the small, black, birdlike silhouettes of the war planes destroying the city from the sky is replaced by the similarly small black silhouettes of birds in the final panel.

If the birds represent freedom from war, the irony is that the immediately surrounding land appears to be one completely empty of people save for the exploring child; it is a freedom attained only without people's presence. Yet at the same time, a child from some existing civilization has reached it; perhaps it is freedom that they have reached, perhaps it is something else that they see in the tree. What is it that they were looking for? What does the tree and its history represent for the child, and what does it mean for their future? Alternatively, does the child-in-the-forest imagery negatively recall the warning that the world is one huge forest of predator and prey that we need to protect children from entering?

Rather than providing answers, this tree embodies all of the potential questions, and all of the potential answers. These possibilities will unfold themselves into an uncertain future beyond the chapters of history that Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Zeke, Erwin, and all the rest of the characters were part of and left their mark on; and whatever future this child will witness or create, it will similarly be one of the struggle against futility, as the journey begins anew with each generation in every new era. Neither - or both - hopeful or despairing, the final image of this tree, just like life itself, contains those innumerable irresolvable tensions as it gestures towards all possibilities, both oppressive and free.

[yesimwriting]

Do you think Kirigan would go for soft girls or the ones that has the same personality as him?

a/n ahh okay ik ive been bad at updating and making content on here and been on a kinda unofficial break but im doing a little better mentally so more content soon!! anyways i had to answer this the SECOND i saw it bc i have SO many opinions.

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okay,, this is going to sound like such a cop out answer, but i think there's no wrong answer bc it depends on how you interpret his character (which i'll explain really soon) but basically, in short, my personal opinion is that he'd go for a balance but be more drawn to someone that presents as one extreme and has the opposite hidden in them,,

personally, i think he'd be drawn to someone that presents as a 'soft' girl with a hidden 'darkness' in them, i don't mean like secretly evil but someone who wants to be good so badly but something in them is just a little too hurt or impulsive to always be the bigger person, even though they want to be.

Here's why I think that personality would draw him in most (i'll also explain the opposite personality bc like i said at the beginning, i think it really depends on how you interpret his character)

- okay, so it's clear that manipulation is kinda his love language (all he did was manipulate my girl Alina and i personally do think that that was the only way he was capable of loving her, so his issues weren't an absence of love but an inability to love in a healthy way--but that's just my opinion)

- so someone in that mental state that wants to be good and for the most part is but sometimes does foolish things bc they're human and have to deal with complex emotions (emotions that remind him of his personal struggles), would be really easy to manipulate bc he's clearly not an upstanding moral guy

- so when he tells someone with those internal conflicts that he sees seeds of darkness or something beyond the exterior they show the world, that person is inclined to believe him. (like when he tells alina that he saw her power and didn't run away, but can Mal say the same?)

- and after planting those seeds, he would be quick to reap them,, what do i mean by that??

- well, a major, personal headcanon of mine is that the Darkling definitely craves the acceptance and assurance of a partner to keep away the solitude that haunts him but he's afraid/hates the idea of losing control and giving someone so much one sided power over him

- so that's why he would be drawn to someone with a softer exterior for deeper connection purposes, bc he could feel like a protector/comforter and maintain some control (i also could very easily see him having an innocence/corruption kink but we're not here for that)

- also,, i think he'd see someone like that (or just his SO in general) as super good, and there would be some level of comfort in him to be able to look at his SO and be like 'they care for me/need me so i cant be that far gone, that lost' or maybe even be like 'if someone as good as them is allowed their impulses, i should be allowed mine'

- i also feel like he'd instinctually convince himself he HATES any 'soft presenting' person he's even somewhat attracted/intrigued by bc anything he sees as pure good he'd be at least a little jealous of in a way he doesn't understand (bc keep in mind, his darkness didnt come from a place of true malice originally)

- but i think he'd bore of someone that's completely soft just bc he's attracted to power bc even when he's not working on his plans, he is,, and if the potential SO doesn't have that power physically (as in political influence/grisha ability) he'd ideally need some strength of will/personality,, which is why he likes to press on that person's fear of being 'bad'

- he'd also like to prey on someone with this personality's fear of being a bad person so that he could feel better about himself bc like i said earlier,, a small part of him would be jealous of their goodness and i think at times he'd even be insecure

- especially if his SO started spending time with someone that's a better person than him bc he wants/needs to be the person that his SO cares about most bc it's not like he cares about a lot of ppl and if he cares more about them than they do about him,, that's not a type of control he'd be willing to relinquish

now why i think ppl could believe that he'd 'go for' someone with a similar exterior to him but has a secret soft inside:

- well,, that's basically him

- i believe opposites attract way more in complex characters (which is part of the reason i lean towards the first dynamic), but he could def be with someone with such a similar personality bc two people that crave power could create such a great couple

- first off, there would be a natural challenge there, bc the two could keep each other on edge and motivated (and victory/adrenaline of competition sex would hit hard,, let me tell you)

- he'd feel comfortable being himself a little more with someone that expresses the same level of ambitions as him and that would be easier than a relationship with someone that presents as soft

- tbh i think someone with a similar personality to him as his ideal hook up but for more serious connection,, he'd connect to someone softer bc they could give him approval/assurance he needs easier

- i think that a similar personality to him would keep him on his toes and entertained which is important and someone that's as driven as him would be beneficial for multiple reasons

- they could connect to him through his struggle and validate his actions

- and if that person had a soft spot,, he'd see even more of himself in them and he'd be able to feel like a protector a little more

- he'd def like to push at that softness in order to feel like his SO is important to him, even his SO is good at hiding that part of themselves

--

honestly the reason that how you view his character is so important in answering this question is bc it depends on whether you think that motivation/being pushed while still being needed is more important to him or being validated while still feeling like he's in control is more important to him.

but yeah,, in general i think he'd be drawn to softer girls but would end up going for girls more like him bc of more assured sexual chemistry and bc it puts him less at risk at opening up to anything beyond the face he wants the world to see

[sepublic]

Speculating on Carnage...

         So you’re telling me is that all I have to do is suck Eddie Brock’s Blood like a vampire, and I’ll have my own unique, home-grown symbiote friend develop inside of my body??? Eddie pal, you don’t mind handing over a blood transfusion, do ya...? Though I guess it’s possible that Cletus has the luck of being compatible, and most people who’d try this would reject the blood and die...

         Still, the fanfic and OC potential! And I guess Cletus growing the symbiote within his own body, which I’ve always wanted to see, allows his own human form to be fleshy and fluid too, hence creating entire holes in his torso to avoid bullets!

         Which suggests that he’s mutated into a human-symbiote hybrid (a concept I’ve always been interested in ngl) rather than just a human-symbiote bond... Which could mean that he has no symbiote of his own to interact with, alas!

         But with the motif of “one is the loneliest number”, it’d make thematic sense for Eddie and Venom’s arch-nemesis to differ that way... Eddie and Venom came from different worlds and merged together as one, but still distinct personalities.

         But Carnage really IS just Cletus, his own body mutated with alien symbiote properties and abilities- I don’t think you could remove e symbiote from him, because he IS part-symbiote, his own DNA has changed to be part-symbiote!

         Human and symbiote are one to the point they can no longer be differentiated. There is no relationship, no host- Cletus has become the parasite itself, and I wouldn’t be surprised if as the film went on, it becomes more abundant that his human state is more a guise for his true, alien form.

         And while Eddie and Venom learn to cooperate, and might have their messes and disputes from that... Cletus is by himself. I could see him flaunting about how he is ‘one’ and ‘whole’, ‘pure’ and in harmony with himself, Cletus/Carnage doesn’t NEED anybody, he’s better that way! He can go solo and not he fettered by working things out with others.

         That could lead to some fun reflection about the idea of going solo for Eddie and Venom, given how this film is clearly set up to be their couples counseling. IS Cletus better because he’s alone, would the two of them be better going their own ways...? Only to realize that YES they have disputes and messy conflict, but their bond is worth it in the end, and it makes them more than the sum of their parts!

         Yeah Eddie and Venom have to deal with each other, but they’ve got each other’s backs! They have support! Cletus, he’s alone... Because one IS the loneliest number, after all! Carnage has nobody he can rely on... Maybe he’ll strike an alliance with Shriek, but I doubt it’ll turn out well.

         If the trailer is alluding to Cletus having his own past breakup, then he really would just be a bitter reflection of Eddie and Venom on individual levels, as someone who never learned to compromise with his own partner, and is bitter and dejected for it... Acts like he’s tough and better off, but even THIS creep can’t deny the humanity within him that yearns for a connection!

         And as we see with Venom, you don’t even need to be human to desire a bond with someone else... That’s a universal desire, and no amount of mutation, ‘ascension’, nor distancing himself from his own humanity will ever change that.

         Sorry Cletus, you might revel in being a freak of nature, but you’re still a person by the end of the day and will always be, with all of the needs and fallacies of one! Rewriting your own DNA with that of an alien and having powers, embracing a new name and identity, won’t change that fundamental truth...

         Because changing one’s self-perception is just even more proof that you’re a person with identity issues, defined by your loneliness and ostracization, that disconnect from others! Because I wouldn’t be surprised if Cletus, even before the mutation, played with the perception by others and himself, of ‘Cletus Kasady’ as some sort of inhuman being, a monster... An identity he embraced, especially with frustrations over not being able to find anyone else like him, nobody else twisted! 

        Which just adds to his complex in trying to latch onto Eddie with his whole “You and I aren’t so different” rambles. Perhaps, deep down... Cletus desires to find and resonate with another kindred soul, and is leaping at that opportunity. Somebody who GETS him, someone else who is also an ‘other’, but for all of Eddie and Venom’s freakiness, they still fit with others, and ‘play by the rules’. 

         I’m sure Cletus thinks he’s being very clever and independent and special, not being bound by societal obligation and norms... But he’s also very much lonely for it, and that refusal to work with others is WHY he’s lonely. 

        He’s only really pushed others away, and there’s much more difference between him and Eddie-Venom, then Eddie-Venom and the rest of society. It’s not about alien blood, it’s about a certain concept of who you ARE as a person, and Cletus is very much a different kind of person- Albeit, alas, still a person!

        ...Of course I could just as easily be completely wrong and looking too deeply into this, getting carried away with this fun idea for Carnage’s character- So we’ll just have to wait and see, and I look forward to how this film turns out, and how Venom’s arch-nemesis is handled as a true parallel/foil to him!

        I hope Carnage is a worthy villain to truly complement/accentuate the hero and vice-versa, make them BOTH stand out together! Poetically, as more than the sum of their parts, protagonist and antagonist together in a twisted dynamic, a ‘symbiotic bond’ within the narrative, so to speak. I’m sure Cletus will make note of and get off on this type of observation, and EAGERLY embrace the relationship as much as his new identity!