#one is a hypocrite in faith who denies being such a thing while the other is a hypocrite in general but is honest about it

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday

The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, and Life, Despair & Monsters.

Tagged by @cassietrn and @josephseedismyfather thank you very much.

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @shallow-gravy @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @direwombat @jillvalentinesday @chazz-anova @inafieldofdaisies @wrathfulrook @voidika @poisonedtruth @josephslittledeputy and @g0dspeeed + anyone else who wishes to join.

Trigger warning: Allusions to executions in the second song. Also there's swearing in the last song if that's of any concern.

For The UnTitledverse, I've got a good little song for the Twins of Terror themselves, Malcolm and Maddison Darling. One (Malcolm) became a human-cordycep hybrid with mechanical prosthetics for his lower half with a taste of lethal revenge (and projection of an unhealthy sibling-substitute fixation?) against Ellie Williams from The Last Of Us, while the other (Maddison) became a multiversal assassin who failed miserably at her job so ditched her employers and succeeded in becoming a serial killer instead... all the while searching to reunite with her twin brother. Song below:

"Insane, inside, the danger gets me high Can't help myself, got secrets I can't tell

I love the smell of gasoline I light the match to taste the heat

I've always liked to play with fire Play with fire Play with fire (Fire, fire) I've always liked to play with fire

I ride (I ride) the edge (the edge), my speed goes in the red Hot blood (hot blood), these veins (these veins), my pleasure is their pain

I love to watch the castes burns These golden ashes turn to dirt (hmm, hmm)

I've always liked to play with fire Play with fire Play with fire (Fire, fire) I've always liked to play with fire

Oh, watching as the flames get higher Oh, I've always liked to play with (Mmm)

Right of passage, classic havoc Match in the gas tank, ooh, that's wretched Unstoppable, legendary animal (mmm) Digital justice, now you're gonna know us Hail to the king and queen of the ruckus Yacht Money wired, no denying I've always liked to play with fire."

For Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, I have Father Adam Omar and Oscar Lapis, the former the prophet of the Congregation of Adam's Guard, one of the main antagonists of Silva's Hope (the other being Joseph Seed) and a character I intentionally wrote to be despicable, and the latter the captain of Adam's Enforcers, the right-hand man of Adam and also quite despicable as well. Adam is also Silva and Elsa's biological father, and the reason why they have so many issues, and has also affected Paul and Kamski, while Oscar was an instrument of torment used by Adam against the other characters, plus Oscar also murdered Irene Neon, who was Silva's first love, Kamski's daughter and Persephone's mother. Both were involved in the generational enslavement, oppression and eventual massacre of the Tumultite community. Song below:

[Note the lyrics that have been cherry-picked out are only because I feel they mostly fit the characters of Adam and Oscar, and there is much more in the song but has been removed down below]

"The temperature's low, but our purpose is much higher What's behind us mustn't blind us to divineness that transpires

And by grace we have been with that most elegant of truth You stand here, not abandoned, but as testament and proof

For a city is its people and its people are its heart Stood together 'gainst the weather, 'gainst the coming of the dark Ne'er a lantern has been build with oh-so righteous a spark When providence claims continents, but provided us an ark."

...

"Brute force and discipline ensures all the citizens Are chipping in sufficiently, under threat of imprisonment Liberty's prohibited, retired, it's mandatory compliance now To keep the fire alight, we need to stamp any defiance out

We can ill afford the price of human rights nor pay the cost of anger So we stifle scrutinising eyes astray with propaganda The only way that we can pull through is under cruel rule If a single person falls out of line, we all do."

...

"I have heard there are those who would defy us Dissidents without repent are bent on questioning the dias Twisted iron fist pariahs and their heretic messiah

Hand in and skin the sinners if you wish to skim divinity Each shiver will deliver us in deliverance in time Burn the innocents for penitence if we preempt the crime

I'm protector of the truth, great erector of the New Faith Defectors and objectors can expect a second doomsday Unquestioning our destiny, relentless we pursue fate Alone I have been chosen to be spoken through by true grace Frozen Omens say we should evoke another crusade"

...

"Infecting desperate residents with false hope Now they've sworn oaths and pledged commitment to a cult No mercy will be shown or quarter given, fetch the coiled rope

And hang them by the necks until it's taut, the lesson learned is certain No measure of faith will keep you warm or sate your appetite So pray, heed the warning, or we may just have to tax your life."

...

"Now the book of laws is closed and its pages shine a light As the people fill the shrines in line with my divine right This battlement of sacraments, as chattel to our rite The sacrilegious and recalcitrant shall vow or face the smite

Nonbelievers shan't deceive us, we shall greet their cheek with grievance In this ceaseless season, we redeem the meek with bleak obedience Seeking each unheeding heathen, see them bleed or plead allegiance Blessed be relief from freedom; lest ye feel the need for treason

Since the precept was decreed, its certainty was predetermined Mere herds of sheep are people, thus, they need to be subservient 'Neath so turbulent a firmament, the worst of men survive Pray their mercy may preserve us once we touch the other side."

...

"Now the book of laws is closed, you've no hope to try and fight As the people fall in line and march in time with iron might Nonbelievers shan't deceive us, we shall greet their cheek with grievance In this ceaseless season, we redeem the meek with bleak obedience

Seeking each unheeding heathen, see them bleed or plead allegiance Blessed be relief from freedom; lest ye feel the need for treason Since the precept was decreed, its certainty was predetermined Mere vermin are the people, thus, they need to be subservient

Turn a leaf in the journal, weep as you read the scriptures The book of laws is closed, it's frozen shut couldn't thaw But should the storms subside it might be time to write a couple more."

For Life, Despair & Monsters, I got a song for Miraculous Miracles. This is for the part of the fic where it goes from "crime-fighting comedic trio consisting of a bi-disaster super-heroine who's got talent, her pun-loving laid back cat hero with abandonment issues and a teleporting inter-dimensional humanoid plant-fungus mentor with magic cards who has to be convinced not to eat anyone" to "Everyone is healing from what Sir Enigma Malvolio did, especially Marinette." Song below:

"I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around

...

Oh, and I can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cares, front yards Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe (Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh) Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe. (Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh)"

[spacerockfloater]

Alicent and Criston have every right to be together.

I’ve read a lot of posts regarding their non-existent hypocrisy and I’d like to clear some things up.

First and foremost, stop using Alicent’s “Where is duty, where is sacrifice?” line against her or Nyra’s outrageous “Exhausting, wasn’t it?” speech because you think you’re eating when you’re, in fact, starving. Alicent has done her duty and sacrificed herself. It’s the only thing she’s been doing for the past 20 years. She gave the man she was forced to marry four children and she took care of him despite all the shit he put her through. She has lived all her life based on her principles and now her husband is gone. She mourned him, she buried him, it’s been more than 10 days since his death (confirmed that E1 S2 takes place 10 days after Lucerys’ death) and she is finally fucking free. She deserves a sliver of comfort. Alicent is the only one in this series that’s been faithful and dutiful to a T, yet look where that got her. If someone has the right to break the law a little bit, it’s definitely her.

That being said, I don’t know when it was decided that Alicent is a pious saint that can do no wrong, but I need to remind y’all that following a religion does not magically prevent you from sinning. Is she committing fornication? Obviously. However, you are all under this impression that this is hypocritical on her behalf because she berated Rhaenyra for it when they were younger, without considering that her anger was justified for a myriad of other reasons, such as (but not limited to): 1) the fact that Rhaenyra’s freedom to marry whomever she pleased was a privilege granted to her thanks to Alicent’s efforts, who supported her even if Rhaenyra hated her, yet her friend casually threw that away, 2) the fact that Rhaenyra lied to her by swearing on her morher’s grave and never even mentioned Criston, 3) the fact that Rhaenyra had the guts to call her “sister” while lying to her face, 4) the fact that her lies resulted in Otto getting fired since Rhaenyra misled Alicent so that she speaks to Viserys in favour of her friend and betraying her own father by siding against him (a decision she wouldn’t have made if she knew the truth), leaving her completely alone and friendless at court, even if he was right all along and finally 5) the fact that Rhaenyra is the most sought after bachelorette in the whole world and by having sex she undermines herself (Rhaenyra knows this well, hence why she denies these accusations) and literally endangers herself, because had she been married to any other man but Laenor and had this man found out his wife and future queen is not a virgin, imagine the fucking horrors she could have been subjected to. Like, I hate to break it to you, but a 40-year-old widow, who’s had four kids and has completed her duty to the point where she is actually no longer needed and could leave the palace to go live the rest of her life in peace somewhere else and no one would notice her absence (literally though, she has birthed heirs, her husband is dead, her son is a grown adult king, her job is done there), having sex, is not the same as an 18-year-old princess and future heir in her prime, whose purity is linked to her worth, getting caught drunk in a brothel, hooking up with her uncle and losing her virginity to her guard, all in one night. Viserys himself was outraged. There’s lows and then there’s lows, y’all.

By the way, the crazy assumptions that Alicent has been cheating on Viserys with Criston for a while now need to stop. When Olivia Cooke said that they had filmed a messy sex scene with Fabien Frankel in a recent interview, she never said this was for S1 of HOTD. I don’t know where y’all got that from, but even if it was true, that scene has been scrapped so it is not canon. And don’t make me laugh about Daeron, a dragon rider who canonically has Valyrian features, potentially having brown hair. You’re all so blinded by your hatred for Alicent that you want her to be a lying hypocrite in order to make yourselves feel better about Rhaenyra’s mishaps, that you don’t get that the whole point of her and Criston getting physical is that she is a tortured woman who is finally able to break free, not that she has been a hypocrite all along. You’re heavily misunderstanding her arc.

Finally, when it comes to my good man Criston, y’all have lost it completely. No, Alicent is not raping him, unless he tells her to stop and she closes the door behind her like Rhaenyra did that is. No, Criston did not lie about how important his honour is to him. There’s a whole article on how Clare Kilner, the director of E4 S1, decided that Cole removing his armour slowly was necessary because it symbolises his inner conflict and uncertainty over breaking his vow: should he soil his cloak for the sake of the woman he loves? And he does soil it, because he thinks she loves him back. But that honourable man dies the day Rhaenyra tells him that he’ll never be anything more than a side piece to her. This man stops giving a flying fuck about his honour, oath, position and life. He is trying to kill himself. And you know what stops him? Alicent. Alicent is the only thing between him and death, the only person to show him kindness and understanding, to pull him up from the lowest point in his life. I don’t think you heard Alicent in E7 S1: “No, you’re sworn to me!”. Y’all. His life is hers. He doesn’t care about Rhaenyra, his job, Viserys, anyone else at this point. Only Alicent exists in his mind, Fabien himself has said time and time again that his loyalty to her is unwavering. He only exists for Alicent’s sake. He’s who you wish Daemon was. Crying that “Criston is a bad knight and a liar because he broke his chastity oath yet again!” is so pointless because that knight has been dead since Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor. What does an oath mean when you find out the people you swore it to have betrayed you? Why should he keep his promise to the people who abused him?

[transtheology]

I'm probably not the only one who feels this way but I'm getting so tired of "you sound like a Catholic" being the ultimate burn in queer discourse. Most of the time the rhetoric they're critiquing isn't even particularly Catholic, they just use it as a synonym for "religious people I hate." It's exhausting always being the one to get thrown under the bus. I wish people could just explain why a point is bad without having to point at a demographic and say you don't want to be like THEM do you

I've felt for a while that queer Tumblr has a habit of reinforcing harmful aspects of Christianity as being inherit & unchangeable, and essentially taking an attitude of "if you are Christian you will inevitably be miserable and guilty and probably evil, and the only way to not be is to simply Stop Being Christian."

It's a tale as old as time: in trying to oppose homophobic, oppressive Christians, we end up re-affirming that their version of Christianity is the correct one. When Catholic = feeling guilty over everything and denying yourself all pleasure, there's no room for Catholics to change things for the better. And there are people who want to change things for the better!

My hot take is that I think queer people* on here tend to know a lot less about Christianity than they think. There's a lot of people raised Protestant who don't really understand Catholicism, and a lot of people who seem to believe that Christianity is exclusively practiced by White Europeans and people they colonized & converted, as if there aren't indigenous forms of Christianity throughout Asia and Africa. Christianity is extremely diverse in interpretations and practices across time and space! It's really not simple or homogenous, and it's always evolving just like every other religion!

And like you said. A lot of criticisms people have are not things unique to Catholicism or even Christianity. I think a lot of people view being an ally to non-Christians as going "Christianity Bad, This Good." Which is just. not effective. It reduces all other religions down to a highly simplified version of themselves, defines them by their opposition to Christianity, and often pushes people who were abused in those faiths towards the right because they feel that the left has no space for their "problematic" religious trauma. In order to not be a hypocrite, you either have to be a shitty anti-theist, or accept that every religion is complex and ever-changing and needs to be vigilant to not be weaponized by the powerful for their own gain.

*particularly culturally christian people who were never religiously engaged themselves

[merge-conflict]

thinking about Goro ever leaving Arasaka is such a fun but heartbreaking thing to think about because like– what would truly make him leave? what would destroy his faith and his loyalty so utterly that he'd walk away from his identity? because it's not just a job, being a soldier is who he is, and he's specifically an Arasaka soldier. when he expresses any doubt about the life he's had or what he really wants it's always with an air of inevitability that Arasaka will exist and continue to exist. what's the alternative? he asks V, because he truly doesn't believe there can be one. he can't believe it, or if he does he has to believe it's not worth the cost, because otherwise what has his life been in service of?

but while he's stubborn and loyal, he isn't stupid. he'll deflect v or get angry when they dismiss corporations entirely not because he thinks they're shining forces of good but because he sees fighting against them as naivety. the world is hard, but that's how it is, and fighting against it will only cause more suffering.

and yet. and yet. he is blind in a particular way, that I think comes from his success and the reward for his hard work. certainly there are plenty of people like him, who were smart and worked hard and came from nothing but were never rewarded for that because they didn't do it in quite the right way, or they weren't liked, or they were simply one among hundreds and thousands, just a number on a spreadsheet– they were never someone noticed personally by Saburo Arasaka. he's absolutely conditioned to believe that the system works because it worked for him.

so to come back around to the question– what could shake his faith in that so entirely that he can start to see the lie he's pledged himself to? that this empire, this corporation is truly no better than any other, and is just as disgustingly hypocritical and pathetic when threatened as any other power?

I can see a lot of possible answers to the question, and though I'm a romantic I can't say the answer is just love– he could deny himself that, I'm sure, and any personal sort of happiness. he could tell himself anyone he loved deserves someone who can give their full attention (and how could he ever give Arasaka less than everything he has? even for his suicidal revenge he means it as a warning, a rallying cry, for Arasaka to save itself from those who would destroy it).

but! the thing about corporations is that they will tell you the rules, and their ideals, and they will enforce them. and you at some point will become a representative of that corp and make promises according to those ideals, and the corp will make a liar of you. whatever trust you've built, whatever standards you hold yourself to in order to maintain your reputation? meaningless. and that more than anything is something I think that Goro would be unable to accept, that something that was his responsibility and his promise was broken without remorse or even consultation. perhaps he could counsel himself through that doubt, and remain in the fold, but it would be one of those moments where he is truly vulnerable to break away, and certainly a reason to shake his faith.

even then– even then I don't think he could see it all at once. he's in too deep, and he wants to believe that Arasaka can work so badly, that he's blind to the reality of its existence. so even if he does break free, then what? and I think the answer to that is that he will always want to believe that if juuust a few things were fixed Arasaka would be on the right path, or would be redeemed.

and that deprogramming will take forever to undo, if he ever lived long enough to try it.

anyway I started writing this post because I'm writing that initial break from his pov where he's struggling with it and internally he's just thinking: Maybe if I kill myself righting this wrong Saburo will understand and Arasaka will go back to being something I can feel proud of! and I want to chew through the drywall why doesn't he get it (I know why)

[ms-revived-frogs]

Thoughts on religious women being feminists/gender critical? I saw a radfem on here talking abt how those women are 'hypocritical' which I personally disagree with as being a feminist is more about doing actions which benefit women not about personal choices of belief, for example a woman can be Catholic and have the personal opinion that abortion is wrong but she can still fight for the rights for other women to have the choice to get one even is she herself wouldn't. I'm not Catholic or against abortion btw lol and I'm new to radfem so I'm probably wording this wrong but I wanted to know your thoughts

Hi! So I have a lot of conflicting feelings about organised religion, especially as I've been involved in two particularly patriarchal faiths: Islam and Catholicism. Personally, whatever belief system a woman has isn't important to me, so long as she's doing actions to help women and actually out there advocating. However I think that a religious woman who does claim to be a feminist should at least be able to criticise her own religion as well. There's a certain level of critical thinking and analysis needed within feminism - like how the wage gap is far more complicating than simply paying female workers less - and this is needed introspectively as well. A muslim woman can absolutely be a feminist, but she must at least be able to point out the misogyny within her religious system. In denying any misogyny in religion outright, women delude themselves into just succumbing to another form of patriarchy (This is present in the whole "hijab/burqa is a choice and empowering!" thing that western Muslim women have going on).

That being said, I still recognise how religion can be used for good and for the self, rather than a patriarchal tool. My baka (grandma) is a devout Catholic and uses religion for comfort. Sometimes I do as well. I would say that myself I am culturally Catholic, after having converted from being Ismaili Muslim, so while I do attend church and do many activities at my church (Croatian singing and dancing), I would not say I completely believe in Catholicism nor support all actions of the Catholic Church. It's like this that I believe a woman can balance being religious while feminist; however we must also recognize that Abrahamic religions are in no way feminist, we just need to recognise that women are and can be feminists without rearranging their entire lives. Remember that nobody is the "perfect feminist".

I would love to hear what others think!

[thekimspoblog]

Was watching a YouTube essayist called Nutsa talk about the Star Wars sequels. I think her analysis is motivated by 2 parts NLOG realness and 4 parts nostalgia blindness, but the other 40% is genuine.

But near the end of the video she starts talking about what a giant billion dollar money fire "Rise of Skywalker" was, why it was more than just a disappointing movie. And that summarizes everything I hate about fandom culture in general: When the movie is bad, it's hideous display of greed and wastefulness from the out of touch elite. And when the movie is good? ... "Budget? What budget?! Who cares about the budget? Did you SEE that one scene? I laughed, I cried, I came"

And it's just so shallow. It's so lazy to blame Hollywood for making a bad product that didn't know how to pander correctly, instead of the audience admitting that they are complicit in a frivolous leviathan because they have a gambling problem. It's so short-sighted, to say that as long as the investment pays off, the price tag didn't matter. It's so disingenuous, to treat entertainment as a sacred cow that is on the same level of importance as food and healthcare, or act like we don't have a surplus of important films already. It's so credulous to not hate good movies too. You know why people hate AI? Because they don't want to confront the existential void that a paint-by-numbers space opera, no matter how good a job the writer did coloring it in, is still fundamentally disposable. No matter how hard a movie works to present challenging ideas, art (especially commercial art) cannot change the status quo, because if that was a viable path to revolution, it would have happened already.

Hollywood movies exist for three reasons: Distract, pacify, sell you shit. When critics praise an entry for being a cut above the rest of the mediocre dreck, that's not in opposition to dreck being turned out; it's precisely what enables this cycle to continue. You, putting your butt in the seat, is what allows the money fires to continue. A troll earlier today accused me of being a hypocrite for defending Harry Potter while saying Marvel Movies are shit, and anyone who thinks that has got me all wrong. There is nothing hypocritical about refusing to suffer pretentious twats who think they can consume their way out of capitalism if they just align themselves with the right intellectual property. IT'S ALL GARBAGE. And the people denying the quality of the wizard books are arguing in bad faith because a piece of media being well constructed and having important things to say AND being a cynical commodity it's unethical to patronize, is a foreign concept to their tiny minds.

This is why so many hot takes about the Barbie Movie are bad btw. Complaints of the film being hollow and pandering ricochet right off me, because watching a three hour long toy ad hastily scramble to recuperate 80 years of controversy back into it's brand was already the most interesting thing about it.

In conclusion, if you're mad that a movie or tv finale or whatever is bad, fine just say that. Don't talk to me like you care about how many hospitals they could have built. If you actually cared, you would stay home no matter how cool the trailer looked.

[bllsbailey]

Kamala And Doug Deserve Each Other: A Scumbag’s Love Story

Maybe Sid and Nancy were a better match than Doug Emhoff and Kamala Harris, but in that relationship it seems pretty clear to me that Nancy was the worse influence. With Kamala and Doug, it’s not really possible to know who is the bigger scumbag. One thing is certain – they deserve each other.

I would say they deserve each other if only to prevent them from inflicting themselves on others, but given the history of these two morally bankrupt hypocrites, the idea that they would remain faithful to their wedding vows seems wildly unlikely. Kamala was famously the side-piece of married Willie Brown, legendary Democratic politician in California who was known for sleeping around with his wife’s blessing. Apparently she liked being the wife of a powerful politicians and all the trappings the come with that, but wanted nothing to do with her husband physically. 

If the wife didn’t care about Kamala, 31 years younger than Willie Brown – he was 60, she was 29 – why should anyone else? I mean, they’re both scum but being scum in their personal lives is no one’s business – they have to explain themselves to God, not me. 

However, their affair did not just impact them. No, Willie’s wife didn’t care, but someone else did get screwed by Kamala, not just Willie. Aside from a BMW, Willie gave Kamala a job. 

Get your mind out of the gutter (though it’s perfectly understandable was to why you’d think that – the truth always creeps in, doesn’t it?), I’m talking about a real job, a political job. The New York Post reported, “Brown appointed Harris — who was then working in the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office — to the California Medical Assistance Commission, a job which paid $72,000 a year and required attending monthly meetings.” 

I could make a “that’s a mouthful” joke about Kamala and Willie, but this is a family column, so I’ll simply say that while she got this job in exchange for the job she was doing, someone qualified, someone who actually would have deserved the position on the California Medical Assistance Commission did not get it. Whoever that person is was denied that job and likely saw their life and career permanently altered because a young lawyer decided to become the concubine of a dirty old man; she chose to suck up to power for her own political gain. 

Teach your daughter to NOT be like Kamala Harris.

Then teach your sons to NOT be like Doug Emhoff.

Emhoff, the dorky looking husband of the Vice President turns out to be quite the pervert. It’s always the nerds, isn’t it?

That Dougie was married before isn’t a surprise – he’s the father of both of Kamala Harris’ step kids, since she carried none of her own to term (I’m just guessing #BetTheOver) – and, as fate would have it, Doug was the stereotypical rich dad who ended up banging the help.

It came out last weekend that Emhoff had an affair on his first wife with their nanny. While that’s the plot of every third Lifetime movie, the reality is Emhoff would be denounced were he anything other than a liberal Democrat “married” to a liberal Democrat running for president.

See, if we learned anything from the “Me Too” movement it’s that power discrepancies make it impossible for consent to ever be genuinely given. He was the boss paying her nanny salary. She also was a teacher at the school Emhoff’s kids went to, which meant he could not only fire her from her nanny job, his victim had every reason to believe he could have gotten her fired from that school too. 

This was years ago, and Emhoff is 12 years older than his victim. Given everything associated with it, no matter what the nanny may think, there is no way she could have given consent. At least, that’s what feminists would say were Emhoff not a liberal Democrat.

Doug also got his victim pregnant. We have no idea what happened to the baby – could be Doug paid for an abortion, it was put up for adoption, or whatever. The victim is apparently doing well financially now, was there a payment with a non-disclosure agreement? Emhoff was a high-power Hollywood lawyer, they know all about such things and how to keep people quiet or force them to say what you want them to say if they’re ever forced to talk.

Kamala Harris and Doug Emhoff are gross people who deserve each other. For all their portrayal of their political positions as “moral” on global warming, trans-mutilation, taxes, the border, they are not moral people. 

“Trump has been married three times!” they cry, which is true. But Trump doesn’t morally judge others as impure or unworthy if they don’t conform to his wishes, Democrats do. And it turns out the standard bearers of moral preening are the lest moral, most disgusting leftists around. Given that Democrats are the party of Joe Biden and Bill and Hillary Clinton, they fit right in.

Derek Hunter is the host of a free daily podcast (subscribe!) and author of the book, Outrage, INC., which exposes how liberals use fear and hatred to manipulate the masses, and host of the weekly “Week in F*cking Review” podcast where the news is spoken about the way it deserves to be. Follow him on Twitter at @DerekAHunter.

[transamorousnetwork]

Here’s Why I Love Talking With Trans-Attracted Men

I just got off the phone with a man who happens to be trans-attracted. Like many men I talk with, he’s married to a cisgender woman. But he knew early in his life he favors transgender women. So why did he marry his wife?

Because he’s like many transgender women.

Transgender women presenting as men often first marry women and raise children. They know who they are, but can’t accept it. Instead, they accepted stories about what they “should” do as men. How they “should” be as men. It’s only later that they come into their own authenticity.

Many transgender women rail against trans-attracted men. I find this deeply hypocritical. Trans-attracted men go through many of the same struggles transgender women go through. Which is why transgender women and trans-attracted men represent perfect matches with each other. That is, if both sides can get over their negative, disempowering stories about each other.

Let’s get back to this wonderful call I enjoyed.

Like many transgender women, this guy kowtowed to family, societal and peer expectation. When his father caught him watching trans porn at age 11, his father shamed him into the closet. It didn’t help that he lives in the Bible Belt. Given all that religious tradition, pressure he felt was too great. He couldn’t accept his authenticity.

So he married a cisgender woman. It was the “man” thing to do. That was over 25 years ago.

Trans-attraction won’t be denied

What’s wonderful about this guy, like most guys like him, is his trans-attraction will not be denied. So many cisgender women contact me in disgust, rage and feeling betrayed. They don’t understand dynamics that had their husbands feel so much shame, their husbands couldn’t bear being honest about themselves.

This guy, I’ll call him Cody, truly loves his wife, who he calls his best friend. They gave birth to two children over the course of their decades long marriage. Yes, they had fights and disagreements. They both cheated on one another. The cheating represented disharmony both felt about their marriage. Disharmony that blocked both Cody and his wife’s knowing something was amiss in their marriage.

This tendency to block what’s really happening in marriage is common. Everyone knows what’s really happening in their marriage, but a lot of times the truth is too much to bear. Or, keeping the marriage, no matter how much it sucks, feels better than the alternative. That’s why I always say to wives feeling betrayed that they knew what was going on in their marriage. But they stopped themselves from seeing it.

While he knew he can’t resist transgender women, Cody told me he stays with his wife “mainly for the kids,” and the duty he believes men should live up to.

But then he met a transgender woman who I’ll call Jackie. That’s when things really started changing.

^^For trans-attracted men, marriage with a cis-woman is often a tragic denial of self. Both for the man and the woman.

Faced with the truth

Cody met Jackie seemingly by coincidence at Jackie’s workplace. There was instant attraction. But Cody tried to be faithful to his wife. Jackie and Cody never got intimate, but their connection was real, Cody says. He couldn’t deny how he felt. After dalliances with about ten other trans girls, Cody knew this was it, he said. He wants to be with Jackie no matter what.

Still, Cody said, he feels stuck. He believes he can’t leave his wife and kids. The situation is tearing him apart. Cody told Jackie he needed to be there for his wife. Understanding, Jackie said she’d wait for him.

Five years later, Jackie and Cody found themselves face-to-face again. This time in a different place, under different circumstances. But their attraction was still there, strong as ever.

Meanwhile, Cody’s wife discovered her Cody’s escapades on dating apps on his phone. They argued, they separated, but eventually reunited. All the while Cody knew, and knows even more so now, that his trans-attraction is his ultimate authenticity.

“I know it’s not going to go away,” He said. “And I get the importance of what you say about being authentic.”

It’s not a fetish

Just so you know, transgender women, Cody isn’t looking for a chick with a dick. He’s totally a top. But he is irresistibly attracted to the “transness” of transgneder women. Like many trans-attracted and transamorous men, he gets his strong attraction is more about WHO HE IS. Just like transgender women know themselves as WHO THEY ARE. Trans-attraction not a fetish, it’s for real.

The sad thing about some transgender women is their persistent, bogus story that trans-attracted men are somehow fetishizing transgender women through their attraction. When in actuality, trans-attracted men find transgender women attractive because they are transgender among many other factors. It’s no different than a heterosexual woman being attracted to heterosexual men. Or straight men attracted to women because they are women.

I could feel Cody’s sincerity and pain oozing out of every word he used as he described his struggle. His is a struggle because he cares about his wife and doesn’t want to hurt her. He doesn’t want to be alienated from his kids. But he also sees the writing on the wall. It’s the same calculus all married men who can’t deny their trans-attraction go through. And it’s not an easy calculus to make.

“Suppressing this is not going to work,” Cody says. “I get it now. Jackie and I are finding ourselves drawn irresistibly closer. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Fuck.”

^^Many transgender woman block the love they desperately seek by vilifying those men most capable of loving them. (Photo by Velizar Ivanov)

Courage to love

I love the path more men find themselves on as they own their authentic selves. Authentic selves which move humanity forward. Selves that honor transgender women for who they are.

Transgender women move humanity forward too. When they accept who they are then live that out loud, they confront limited beliefs humanity must give up to evolve.

Now imagine how powerful a transamorous/transgender couple could be. I imagine it and every time I do, I get excited for what’s possible for such individuals, and for society at large. Transgender women seek, often in vain, someone who will love and accept them for all they are. Yet they push against and resist the affection of men, like Cody, who are born exactly wired to do just that.

I find it highly ironic that the love transgender women yearn for awaits them but the place it exists, is the very place they run from. It would be comical if it weren’t so tragic in terms of transgender women living alone, depressed, or worse, compromising themselves to be with a woman when so many know a man is what they want.

I relish the call I enjoyed with Cody. Not only does it confirm what I know about these men, and why I write this blog, it shows me that love exists for everyone. But it takes courage on both sides to get the love that awaits.

[kob131]

Okay since I have a laptop at hand now, I wanna go more in depth-

The issue with Ozpin and the group started all the way back in Volume 5 with Raven telling Yang about Ozpin from her perspective. A perspective we find out to be VERY biased against the man because Raven needs to justify her actions to herself. While Raven's framing is bullshit per Qrow's own admission, it does set something up-

Yang: If Ruby sticks around, then I will too. If there's one thing I know about her, it's that she somehow always knows the right thing to do. But, if we're going to help, if we're going to keep risking our lives, no more lies. No more half-truths. Ozpin: (smiling) Understood.

That being- A. Yang is expressly NOT doing this out of loyalty to Ozpin so she has no personal reason to follow him and B. that Oz had a chance to come clean with the context that he should since they're risking their lives for his cause. Oz outright denied the chance to lay things bare on his terms and chose to keep lying (much like how Ruby and co. along with James all refused to do the same when THEY had the chance to).

Then we have as Snow points out- That Oz doesn't bring up that the Relics attract Grimm. This ends up being a HUGE problem because not only did they get stranded in the middle of the woods. They have to do this because the only other option was risking CIVILIAN lives. This brings up another issue with Oz- he's being a hypocrite here. He preaches about general morality and the good of being a hero but he's risking innocent lives because of his refusal to tell the truth.

Next we have the Lost Fable and So That's How It Is, where we see Salem and Ozpin's backstory (SPECIFICALLY their backstories, keep that in mind) and more importantly show how Ozpin has been misleading everyone. That they are risking their lives for a man...who won't tell them the truth and be honest with them. A man who is supposed to embody what it means to be a Huntsman and acted as their teacher. This is especially bad with Ruby because of her line-

Ruby: So all those times you talked about having faith in humanity, that was just for everyone else?

Once again, Oz showed that he's being a hypocrite. That he's implied that for all he preaches, he doesn't really believe what he says. Or at least, that's how it seems to them. To Ruby, who clearly respected him so much.

And it's not like these are the first times this problem of Oz's.

Ironwood: I've trusted him for years. We both have. I just... I can't help but feel like he's keeping us in the dark. Glynda: Don't be ridiculous! You know very well that we are not the ones in the dark. Ironwood: (Laughs humorously.) That makes it worse! I refuse to believe that a man that I've trusted for so long would act so... passively.

James being the one to say this is pretty damn important as not only does James end up following in Oz's mistakes but James is also a pretty clear parallel to Ruby herself: both are people who are left to lead their factions in the wake of Ozpin's death, genuinely believing in his ideals and cause and in some way look to him as a leader and example. And both fail because they followed his mistakes.

All of this to point out- everyone has a pretty good reason to be mad with Ozpin. As the man leading everyone, he has to be a better man to show people the way. It is through that morality that he derives the right to lead and the privilege of being the standard for others. Without his honesty, people begin to falter in his beliefs and feel they can't trust him. Because no matter how much they know about him- they aren't him. They cannot know his perspective and can't trust him to show it.

That's why Team RWBY needed to lie to James and be hypocritical from a story perspective- to give them the experiences necessary to understand Ozpin and know his feelings. It's why they don't need to apologize. They don't need to say it, they know each other now.

Now I get the issue. That they were just shown Oz's backstory and the pain he went through, how he started his journey and how painful the events were. That by not having them apologize, it implies they don't regret the pain they put him through. But not only is the implied empathy supposed to communicate that: they've NEVER been sympathetic to people's painful backstories. No, the SHOW has never been sympathetic to this unless the person is set for redemption.

Case and point, the same person who shared Ozpin's backstory and infact probably had a WORSE life than him: Salem. Salem went through all the same pain and suffering Oz did if not more due to being locked away by her father while Oz had the freedom to be a hero. She lost her husband to a cruel twist of fate; had the gods shrug and not give a shit about her pain; cursed her with immortality so she couldn't even reunite with him and lost her own children as her resurrected husband tried taking them away.

And how does the show react?

Yang: All of this endless death, because something bad happened to you once upon a time?!

Telling her to go fuck herself. Same that it did with Adam. Same with Cinder. Same with Watts. Same with Torchwick. Unlike Illa, Emerald Hazel and yes, Ozpin.

Ozpin being forgiven for his mistakes because of his pain brings up why the same isn't done for the first group and why the second had to actually brave danger and put themselves out there. To be fair, Ozpin is far more moral than Illa, Emerald and Hazel. But he still fucked up and he had to answer for it. Just like they did. Just like Ruby and James did.

The apology just isn't necessary and the implication Oz should be left off the hook would just come across as glaring and unusual in the story.

And before anyone says anything about the meme, I looked up the RWBY transcripts of the hell of it. No one ever apologizes for the shit they said to Ozpin in Vol 6. They just say 'we understand how you feel' and leave it at that. No one actually says "sorry for blaming you" or anything like that. It feels more like Ozpin's the only one apologizing when it should be both sides considering that Ruby and the others practically cursed him for choices he didn't want to make in the first place. This is more probably a nitpick, but it's one of those things you only notice when you stop and think or it gets pointed out to you.

[horizon-verizon]

Why Show!Alicent Does Nothing for Me and Why Book!Alicent is Morally Corrupt

EDITED (9/4/23)

[BOOK] Alicent attempts to take the throne from the protagonist, Rhaenyra, using her gender as the reason and to install her own son as the ruler—-as a rule, if I see a person attempt to block a woman from setting a precedent that would put women in general in higher positions of power or even just find it for themselves, then I am automatically against them—but I prefer Book!Alicent over HotD because Alicent shows more self determination there than in HotD

[BOOK] -- This is more of a disgust with Show!Alicent Stans–Even as a noblewoman who has been conditioned against illegitimate children by the Faith of the Seven [EDIT: this actually only solidified after Daemon Blackfyre, much later; however the belief that bastards are lower life forms existed for much longer and earlier-- Argilac Durrandon vs Orys Baratheon], Book!Alicent's prejudice against Rhaenyra's 1st 3 kids to the point where she justifies their murders as being less deserving of consideration or empathy than her own hypothetical kids disgust me. It always will, because that is an unequivocal indication of a person who believes in "blood purity", yet it is treated as a pure moment of motherly love and saintliness by Alicent stans. Where's the claimed "objectivity" given to Alicent towards Rhaenyra saying what she said about Nettles being too "brown" and "common" for Daemon, while herself developing serious paranoia, before ordering her execution?

[SHOW] Alicent has too weak of character. And I mean of will and philosophical inner strength. She is nothing without being a tool for her dad and following what she thinks the men around need from her. All of her daring has to do with protecting her kids in terribly misguided and abusive attempts to actually make herself feel better for allowing herself to be pushed around for years and seeing Rhaenyra finding ways of being happier while also doing her "duty". It's like if you get mad at a person for having had great insurance for most of their lives while you just sat around and waited for someone to give you good insurance.

[SHOW] If we truly think Alicent is in the moral, absolute right or even that she is a "little" right, we'd have to subscribe entirely to the opressive values that she herself is trying to enforce: women must have sex within marriage and never before or they will lose their value and other men will not see her as deserving; the status of people (example, bastards vs trueborns) inherently determine their value from birth to death; men of authority are always right or the only ones deserving of power, so we should not question their actions; repress your desires 100% of the time to fill the expectations and standards of the ones in authority or really any person around you instead of developing critical, independent thinking skills -> don't be your own person or even try to think for yourself, just be as everyone else is doing and submit yourself to the assumptions of others–deny your own personhood and become a model of conformity

[SHOW] There is simply nothing at all aspirational about her. And if she were to stay alone, what does she contribute to the progression of the story except to hold back actually progressive things? Say what you will about Rhaenyra (and it's probably made up, wrong, or hypocritical), but Rhaenyra is giving determination and cleverness. Alicent is giving dollface fighting to remain a doll. Her often repeated power moments or most interesting actions are her: wearing the green dress (and it going nowhere with how badly written her character is), her giving feet looksies to Larys with no pushback, her attacking Lucerys and Rhaenyra, and her protecting Aegon from Meleys and Rhaenys.

[SHOW] She is written inconsistently. In episode 6, she's all gungho to ruin Rhaenyra. In the 8th episode, she's suddenly fine with being buddies after years of thinking Rhaenyra is out or definitely will be out to get her and her kids and after she rejected Rhaenyra's proposal of epi 6 to marry their firstborns because Jacaerys is a bastard and shouldn't get Helaena to her. In episode 8, Alicent doesn't understand that Vaemond is also very willing to drag Rhaenyra. In episode 9, she is surprised by Otto and the council doing big moves against her yet screams at them to leave Rhaenyra be...while also trying to depose her after Viserys does but should know that this civil war is inevitable from the moment she planned and allowed this despising. She is supposed to dress much more modestly after episode 7, yet in episode 8 at the feats she is back in her garb before that episode and switches back and forth. She sends a page to Rhaenyra....yet is still going to try to rock her shit by deciding her at all as if this would realistically mollify anyone after years of trying to depose her at court and get her kids killed, and the fact that medieval pages are not mass produced like modern ones, so these vellum (animal skin, most of the time sheep) pages would have been kept not because of sentimental value but because it literally costs a lot to reproduce a single book if at all. Who is this person and why she is either so badly written or so delusional and why are we supposed to feel bad for her instead of repulsed and wary?

Why I Think None of the "Accomplishments" or Any of the Cool!Alicent Moments of the Show Really Matter

Episode 5 – Her Green Dress Moment

After learning Rhaenyra slept with Criston Cole and deceived her, Alicent seems to decide that Rhaenyra is her enemy and declares it through her wearing her house color of green instead of the red and black or reds she used to wear after marrying Viserys. (Rhaenyra saying that she didn't sleep with Daemon still has her lying about her virginity, which is what Alicent was aiming for and what Rhaenyra herself was trying to avoid censure for–I think this was actually great of Rhaenyra, but that's for a different post.)

By wearing the Targ colors, we're made to see Alicent as trying to assimilate or be more a part of the Targ family/house and display her allegiance to her husband and/or Rhaneyra–fulfill that value. (If you are a Rhaenicient or Rhaeniciente-leaning person, you may believe or have a notion that Alicent was also trying to get closer to Rhaenyra, get back into her good graces, or show her allegiance to her specifically and support her political claim/status.)

When she talks with Rhaenyra in the garden after Viserys blows Rhaenyra off, we see Alicent express that Rhaenyra's marriage predicament is her coveted one, since Rhaenyra has many different men to choose from for herself--that's she's allowed the choice.

Alicent wears a bare-armed, red and black structured ensemble with red fabric falling from her shoulders while Rhaenyra has a more form-fitted, rose gold, floral sort of dress withe cut sleeves at the elbows baring her forearms. Both highlight their youth and current sexuality, but differently. Rhaenyra is more direct as her dress is softly colored and superficially more "modest" than Alicent's, but it still shapes well to her body and curves her hips and breasts well enough that we can see them while still having the floral and softness to display her youth, as if Rhaenyra we're at some moment of freedom (sexually, maybe some foreshadowing?). Alicent's dress is a little more boxy and, color wise, harsh against her skin. To me, it looked more like a Halloween costume than a dress made in that fictional universe. While it leaves her arms bare, it still doesn't make use of Alicent's body like Rhaneyra does and how her green dress does. Alicent's dress shows how stifled and confined her sexuality is, how it's doesn't "form" to her but she tries to form herself to it. It contains her.

After Alicent sits with Viserys and calls Rhaenyra "stepdaughter", it's clear that she's decided to fight Rhaenyra and we're supposed to think she developing her own faction. We even get to see her be complimented and assured by her uncle/the Hightower head in the same dinner. Yet, Alicent, even in this feast episode, doesn't really have that much going for her afterward nor some sort of private confrontation or conversation with Rhaneyra like Joffrey and Criston, Daemon and Laena, etc. 

And in the episodes afterwards, Alicent somehow doesn't have enough support in the Red Keep and frantically wants her father back. She sits at the table and looks upset for most of the time, and even when Rhaenyra is in danger or when Criston Cole is revealed with Joffrey, why don't we see her reaction to piece out her state of mind then? Where is the promised independent spirit, or why not draw that out in multiple encounters even just for our entertainment (I’m talking about the time jump)?

Episode 7 – Her Attack

Some say that Alicent grew so fed up with how Viserys doesn't support her or their kids in favor of keeping Rhaenyra safe from infidelity and treason accusations. That years of the same thing, of Viserys ignoring her frustrations over Rhaenyra being allowed to have bastard son after bastard son and not getting punished is not fair to her, who has followed the rules and has not had a scrap of pleasure or happiness for herself, how she's a victim of the patriarchy by being married as a child.

However, while you may be desperate to hurt others to protect your family (like how some have praised Daemon) it doesn't make you a good person yourself. It just makes you a terrified & vengeful parent. And losing complete control in the face of perceived danger to yourself or to your loved ones in any scenario doesn't make you a hero–it means you are scared. It's not an evil thing by default, but it's not heroic either.

When Otto praises Alicent for being "determined", he's operating from this notion that Alicent is acting as if Rhaenyra/the blacks (for him, Daemon) are the unequivocal enemy that needs to be destroyed. However, we are supposed to know that Alicent is not acting politically ambitious at all, or that it is secondary. 

Unlike Book!Alicent, she's not even pursuing Rhaenyra's end for the sake of her son's becoming the king, just so he can become king and she become the number one woman in Westeros. Show!Otto doesn't know shit about Alicent--he's only looking to use her. He's pleased that she is acting how he wants her to act, and he's projecting his own desire to fuck Daemon up onto her, through her. Seeing what he wishes he could do without sacrificing his own face like Alicent did.

And then there is the consequence of Rhaenyra/the Velaryon boys actually being revealed: death, exile, and/or universal condemnation of women trying to be leaders, the execution/exile/universal hatred or death threats for the three boys themselves. Anyone who is trying to get this done for a person who lied about sex (so that they are not condemned for it)--esp without even trying to be ambitious or addressing an actual direct threat (Ottoman Empire law at one time actually had the winning male descendant of the past Sultan kill all his other brothers to assure his own place)--is ridiculously narrow-minded, acting on unjustified fear, and needs to be regarded as such. Just because they were taught to regard others that way since birth, doesn’t mean they are not those things.

It also treacherous if they were both a woman and a friend of that person...who would want to be friends? Even after what we are lead to think by Alicent's first green dress appearance and her trying to get Rhaneyra and her killed or banished or villainized by their entire society?

Writers, make up your mind, who is this woman, what does she want?!

Alicent is not “heroic” in attacking Rhaenyra because she attacks her ("Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?!") not to protect her kid (at that point he's already hurt) but because she is angry that Rhaenyra managed to avoid being as sexually repressed (sacrifice) as her. That Rhaenyra's "duty" appears less heavy or demanding as Alicent's (when really, if you truly analyze it, it isn't. At all).

Alicent doesn't see that this is not an individual thing but a systematic thing and that she is just making things worse for herself, her kids, and Rhaenyra.  What makes Alicent less sympathetic is that she going after the wrong people and that her actions against Rhaenyra, beginning from episode 4, were wrong from the get go.

These are not hallmarks of a hero or someone to root for. She's not trying to shake things up for herself, so she can't be classified as a classic tragic hero. Nor is she like firefighter or a nurse, a person who puts themselves at risk for someone unaffiliated with them to save or maintain their lives, so she's not a modern American "hero" either. And the perceived danger of Rhaenyra has no strong basis, so she's not fighting against or resisting the real evil (Otto/Viserys/patriarchy, as the show makes it).

She's a horribly misguided and abusive mother who defaults to her one, universal job–protect the kids. And even then, her kids are not really protected from the schemes of her dad and the incompetence of Viserys (Helaena's marriage and unwillingness to connect with Alicent, Aegon's alcoholism and raping, Aemond's anger and violence). A blind, repressed, unintelligent love doesn't make you a good parent, successful parent no matter how many times you push your kids behind you.

And when Alicent attacked Rhaenyra, it was more about herself and her lack of realizing she can think out of the box and getting angry at Rhaenyra for doing so. Yes, she is obviously angry at Viserys' doing nothing. However, the moral or ethical answer is not mutilating the supposed offender--then it's just about saving face and showing a kind of strength than actually righting a wrong and that needs to be remembered. And she wasn't just angry about Viserys but about Rhaenyra's lie and her ability to have some freedoms that Alicent herself rejected long ago to conform. As already stated.

If anything we would do better to see Alicent's act as the desperation of a mom and a victim, not the determination of a person who is the advocate of the right, moral ideology.

And ironically, Alicent lost a lot of face when she went after Rhaenyra, which is why she is so differently dressed and publicly showing her Faith with the Star around her neck, why she takes down the erotic tapestries to make the Keep bare, why the Keep (supposedly, I saw no difference because nothing much was shown) looks so different from the past. (Except the defaults back to her way of dressing again at the family dinner in episode 8? The style where her shoulders are more out and some of her hair is down, some pinned up. Writers, make up your mind!)

Larys and Her Feet – Episode 9

Honestly, I agree with everything this anon asker to la-phacienne said about the matter: LINK.

A section of what they wrote:

I don’t think people realize how serious it is. Alicent's actions immediately following Viserys' death and at the Green Council in Fire and Blood are the narrative peak of her character's contributions to the Dance of Dragons. This was arguably her most powerful moment in the book, the moment she held the most political sway. And what was Alicent's most memorable scene in episode 9 ? The foot scene. The Green Council was supposed to be a dramatic, incredibly tense, and history-defining moment, but we are mostly talking about a foot fetish. I don't think she'll ever recover from this.

However, I don't think Larys has an innocuously idiosyncratic foot fetish per se.

I think that he loves the fact that Alicent feels that he has more power over her or has what she needs and only he can give this one thing--specific information--to her. That--not really her feet themselves-are what motivates and thrills him.

Still, the anon made a good point that Alicent has been reduced from her moment in Fire and Blood to this person who doesn't try to even use the power she does have as a Queen whose husband is out of commission (even if not dead, still very inactive and the greens have taken over the court by how the writers want us to think). Like how Cersei did to Peter Baelish in GoT--however strange that scene was.

Which tells us about what kind of person the writers and show runners want Alicent to be: a shrinking violet with no will to enact and dream of agency for herself.

Her Pushing Aegon behind her and Rhaenys/Meleys – Episode 9

Same point as for Episode 7 about Alicent's motherhood being used as a justification for actions. Again, any parent that actually believed they cared or truly cared for their kids would do the same. She goes after the wrong people.

It's not exceptional of her to protect Aegon even with her not liking him or thinking him for for kingship. She is compelled to protect him just on the fact that he is her son and that she had been on a mission to keep him safe from a perceived danger that is not as dire as Otto makes it seem.

Rhaenyra would definitely do the same or something similar (not the physical attack but the act of protecting her kids) and she did in refocusing towards Aemond’s accusation BUT she thought that was the only thing to do. In the book, Rhaenyra even tried to keep her sons from becoming dragonriding soldiers at Rhaenys’ suggestion--to immediately use the dragons to raze the greens during the black council--because there are green dragonriders (ahem, Aemond) who could put these boys in danger. Daemon himself makes it clearer with his comment about Old Valyria.

So really, it’s not motherhood that people like about Alicent. It’s that she’s desperate and the “perfect” victim who tries to follow the Andal/Faith patriarchal rules to receive the status & security she thinks they will provide...but finds out that she won’t. Resenting/blaming Rhaenyra for “being in her way”.

In All....

Show!Alicent doesn't see or now that Show!Rhaenyra had fought with Viserys before about her not having the ability to choose if she was even going to get married, so Alicent and some in the audience seems to forget that Rhaenyra has much less choice than they think she has. And Alicent herself is still a noblewoman. Every single noblewoman/girl is in the same predicament of having less choice than noblemen in who they get to have sex with.

It is the parents/ruler who decide who their kids marry–boy or girl–not the child themselves. But men at least can have sex with literally anyone they choose as long as they are discreet about it. Yet in practice, even then not really, since there are little real or lasting punishments for when they have illegitimate children.

If a woman has a bastard, she's made into this villain, and not just based on "cost-analyses" in politics. She's made into this she-devil who has dared to limit her sexual pleasure to what her husband, random people, and family determines for her. Who has disparaged her own chastity, disgraced her house, and invited "danger" into the same house. (Think Daena Targaryen and Aegon IV, how the maesters condescendingly wondered how she could have "hurt" her house by pursuing Aegon IV and sleeping with him after escaping her tower.) That Alicent never truly thinks deeply about how amoral her conservative values are doesn't place her in my favor.

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down. 

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this. 

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have. 

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one. 

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you. 

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly. 

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside. 

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole. 

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second. 

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle. 

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it. 

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from. 

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!" 

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor." 

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry. 

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.' 

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon. 

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you. 

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response. 

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar. 

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?" 

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.' 

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this." 

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world. 

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand. 

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards. 

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya." 

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just- 

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The "redemption questionnaire" - the survey results.

Hello! Welcome back to the results of this survey, which is now closed - I really didn’t expect this amount of interest and am thankful for the ability to collect this much data on the subject.

Now, the reason I made this survey in the first place was this post crossing my dash. It talks about people wanting to see characters or people who they dislike suffer, even if healing is completely possible or even the better option - it’s about people denying that there is such a thing as bad people “deserving” things that we humans need to function, such as being loved.

This post talks about fictional characters, but despite that fact, it made me lose my faith in humanity just a bit. I am a pretty cynical person, but I also consider myself quite empathetic to existing and fictional people alike.

So, I got curious, and wondered - in the Dream SMP fandom specifically, is there a way to get input as to what people actually think about the issue of redemption?

[ tw for brief mentions of torture and abuse ]

So, the goal of the survey was get information to answer certain questions;

Do people think that some characters shouldn’t be redeemed or are irredeemable because of their actions, however don’t hold this true for others?

Are there people, who despite disliking certain characters, still believe that they deserve healing?

Would people want characters to suffer or even die for their actions rather than heal and be happy?

Do people think certain characters in the story don’t deserve to be happy?

Now, I did get some responses that were asking to include or exclude certain characters from the main three (Quackity, Dream and Wilbur - all names are talking about the characters only), however there was a very specific reason I chose these people.

Quackity and Dream have both done actions that have similar weight, while Wilbur serves as an outlier; someone who hurt people in more indirect, but still impactful ways. All three of them have been hurt - Wilbur mostly by Eret’s betrayal, Quackity by Schlatt and others, and Dream by Sam and Quackity. All three have contributed to a toxic and harmful environment, which in turn hurt them back even more and drove them deeper into becoming destructive.

Such a comparison between them would test the fandom’s ability to separate their feelings from in-story morality, as well as bring double standards to light.

Let’s see the demographic part of the survey first, as to see what we are working with;

Of the 390 people partaking in the survey, 44.9% like the direction the Dream SMP plot is heading at the moment, 3% do not and 52.1% are not sure.

Of the characters whose redemption arcs are most anticipated, 71% of participants are expecting a BadBoyHalo or Eggpire redemption arc, Niki/Jack and Wilbur coming close in second and third with 59.2% and 51.8% respectively. As for the main trio of this survey, Quackity lands with 28.2%, Dream with 43.3% and Wilbur with 51.8% of participants thinking a redemption arc for them is likely in the near future.

I would like to express right now that the characters included in the “possible redemption” section do not in any way, shape or form reflect on what I personally think about the characters. I don’t think certain characters need a redemption arc, however I left in the option in order to let people pick it if they wish to do so.

As for the healing arc question, quite understandably, Tommy and Tubbo are the characters most expected to get a healing arc in the upcoming storylines, sitting at 76.2% of participants. Niki and/or Jack come in second with 62.1%, and Quackity, Wilbur and Dream land at 25.4%, 45.9% and 42.8% respectively.

For the aforementioned questions, 3.6% or participants thought none of the Dream SMP characters would get a redemption arc, and 5.4% thought none of them would heal - and with the track record the story has so far, I honestly cannot blame them.

Now we move more towards the main trio;

48.7% of participants have positive feelings towards Quackity’s character, and 23.1% have negative ones. The majority of the participants (66.2%) think that his actions are intentional and hurtful, but interestingly enough, only 25.4% say they find them inexcusable and awful.

For c!Dream, 51.5% feel positively towards him and 35.7% do negatively. Luckily, 53.8% find his actions inexcusable and awful, while 40.3% find them intentional and hurtful.

c!Wilbur breaks the trend with 58.7% of people feeling positively towards the character and only 17.2% feeling negatively, however such a discrepancy can be expected when we compare his actions (found 65.1% of the time to be intentional and hurtful).

I want to preface this next section by saying that I have nothing against people who find redemption arcs unappealing, or wouldn’t find them narratively appealing in the specific story. These answers will be counted as merely neutral ground in the upcoming questions; you are completely valid if you think certain character arcs would not fit the themes or style of storytelling, or if you want bad people to stay bad for the sake of conflict.

However, 79.5% of people find well-done redemption and healing very appealing within the story, and 19% like it for certain stories and characters, so this shouldn’t impact the results on a large scale.

1. Do people think that some characters shouldn’t be redeemed or are irredeemable because of their actions, however don’t hold this true for others?

People’s reasoning for not wanting characters to heal varies, however the contrast between c!Quackity and c!Dream in this scenario is very intriguing.

Despite the two having done comparably disgusting things, one with more and one with less selfish reasons but neither excusable, both classifying under abuse, the people who think c!Dream shouldn’t get a redemption arc (9.7%) because of his actions greatly overshadow the people who think c!Quackity doesn’t deserve a redemption arc (1%) because of his actions. Hell, even c!Wilbur’s percentage is higher, sitting at 2.1%.

This is extremely surprising considering the demographic - and seems to hint at the fact that people who think positively of c!Dream are far more likely to think that c!Q and c!Wil deserve redemption and healing (despite the common argument that both have hurt him greatly) than it is the other way around.

Even sending a bad message is a lot higher with c!Dream (30.5%), despite the fact that c!Quackity’s actions and him as a character could be similarly triggering, and he himself sits at 2.6% of participants. Of course, this question could be partially taken as what he went through in prison making him better, which would definitely be a bad message to send, but considering the percentage (42.1%) of people who don’t want Dream to be redeemed, that’s still insanely high.

Overall, people from a very balanced demographic of people who are positive and negative towards the three characters, only 52.6% want Dream redeemed as opposed to the 83.8% with Quackity and 86.7% with Wilbur - and the reasons given seem to be largely based on bias and double standard, or even hypocritical in context.

For the fandom, this question’s answer seems to be yes, although from the people who are c!Dream positive, this sort of thinking seems to be of a much lesser extent and amount towards characters they dislike.

2. Are there people, who despite disliking certain characters, still believe that they deserve healing?

Let’s look at some of the comments given to this answer;

“On the one hand I do want Dream to recognize that his actions have hurt people, but I really don’t want torture to have ‘made him better’ or for the people he hurt to have to forgive him.”

“as much as I hate c!quackity and dislike c!wilbur, I believe that evil is not something you are, its what you do and as such I think every person deserves to heal and grow.”

“Quackity is the closest - he's spiraled far, but we got to see some of what he could be as a more moral man. Dream's arc would be....incredibly difficult to pull off, and while everyone deserves a chance to change, not everyone who does is ever owed forgiveness. And Wilbur....I dont know what would make him want to get better, but I want him to.”

“I wouldn’t like some of these characters to get redeemed(c!Quackity), but I know everyone deserves a chance at redemption because no one is mentally stable and not traumatized.”

“bastard men. on a serious note ive noticed a lot of evil in dsmp come from the perpetuation of the cycle of revenge and punitive punishment and i think excluding someone from them would. just not be a good message. and yeah c!dreams motives and methods being seen in separate characters is just proof of this - nothing that made any of these men villains are unique to them, and they are all shit-infested holes other characters can fall in.”

“i think every character on the smp has done horrible things and is morally grey, but i think everyone deserves the chance and the ability to heal and try to be better.”

“listen, i love big q, and i know he doesn't mean it, Wilbur also deserves better (far from tommy tho, they're not good for each other rn) and dream can go f**k himself, the only "healing " Arc that would ever make sense is if he escapes the prison and f**ks off to the middle of nowhere (wich is unlikely)”

“Even if I don't like some of the characters they deserve a chance at healing and moving on”

“Controversial opinion but Wilbur has been pretty shady from the start, so a redemption/healing arc just wouldn't make sense to me. He antagonized Dream to sell drugs.”

“i would like to qualify all my answers towards redemption as that they are /all/ allowed to get better, just not necessarily near those they've hurt. those they've hurt are under no obligation to forgive them or be involved in that.”

“REDEMPTION IS POG F**K IT EVERYONE GETS REDEEMED THE ONLY BIG BAD THAT EXISTS IS SYSTEMIC”

“Clarifying about my wilbur answers. A character can only get a redemption if he wants to change. Wilbur doesn’t want to change. I still think he deserves to heal but not to be redeemed. Those are two very seperate things”

“PLEASE JUST LET THEM GET HELP. ALL OF THEM.”

“i'm at sort of an impasse with c!quackity & c!wilbur. i don't like c!quackity in the slightest. i think he has great potential for a redemption arc, but i probably wouldn't be interested in watching it. on the other hand, with c!wilbur, i actually would watch his redemption arc, but i don't see it happening any time soon.”

“I answered " he deserves to heal and get better despite the actions he's commited; everyone deserves to heal and get better " for c!Wilbur but I partially Disagree with the "Everyone deserves to heal and get better" part. simply because some characters are irredeamable eg : c!dream”

“If c!Wilbur gets a redemption arc (I hope he does) I really hope it comes with learning that ethnostates and nationalism are not poggers. I'd be worried about the message it would send if he didn't learn that & it only focused on interpersonal stuff instead.”

“maybe a bit weird that i want c!dream to have a redemption arc but not c!q or c!wilbur, but hear me out. c!dream is being tortured in pandoras vault and we all know (no matter what the c!dream antis say) no one deserves torture. we have something to sympathize with with c!dream. with c!q and c!wilbur, i cant think of anything to sympathize with …. im not trying to say that c!dream is better than them, or that he didnt do bad things, but i sympathize with him much more than i do with c!q and c!wilbur because q and wilbur caused their own problems while a lot of dreams problems come from other people”

“We have both seen Wilbur and Quackity be relatively good people, or at the very least morally Gray people who had genuine love and care to those close to them. While with Dream we have never seen that, as he has always been focused on chaos, fun, and power.”

“I just want everyone to be happy and get along. C!Wilbur to get his problems fixed. C!Quackity to be happy and not have to worry about being the next c!Schlatt. C!Dream to finally tell us his side of the story and potentially join the syndicate?”

“Redemption isnt something any one can say is deserved or not”

“For me the main difference is thay wilbur and quackity (although having done bad things) did them out of grief or bc they felt like it was the only thing they could do for a sense of security (both after they lost something important to them). Dream on the other hand went out of his way and hurt others maliciously when he DIDNT have to or there were other less horrible/long-lasting actions he could done”

“The message that some people dont deserve to learn and grow from their past mistakes is harmful”

“listen.. i really hate c!quackity and c!wilbur right now so.. erm..in emotionally, i don't want them to have redemption arc because i hate them..BUT by using my brain i know that is a stupid excuse, everyone deserve redemption so..yeah sorry if it confusing you but honestly..the reason i hate them so much is probably because of the arc they on so..give them time and i think i will say i welcome their redemption arc with an open arm”

“i answered twice for dream because i have mixed feelings, while i think he is an atrocious person, i believe personally that forgoing forgiveness from others, he deserves to be happy and healthy and heal. hes clearly got issues of his own, and while it doesnt excuse his actions he also deserves the basic right to heal”

“I personally regard redemption as the act of simply becoming a better person, seperate from whether or not they are accepted or forgiven by their victims. With that definition, I think there is no being "deserving" of a redemption arc, it's something that everyone is entitled to if they chose to. Therefore, everyone, and I mean everyone, in as something as morally gray as the Dream SMP is capable of becoming a better person. It doesn't mean they get rewarded or forgiven for it, it just means they are capable of change and are able to fulfil character potential beyond being a villain.”

It seems to me like there definitely are a lot of people in each side of the spectrum, so this test seems to have come back positive; however, there are more questions that we have yet to answer.

3. Would people want characters to suffer or even die for their actions rather than heal and be happy?

Here is probably a good place to mention this questionnaire was more of a psychological experiment than a survey. Most of the answers were specifically designed and in such an order that would get your mind thinking about certain things before shoving your psyche into a difficult question.

Well, here comes the moment of truth; what sort of redemption arc do people prefer? Would they rather the character get better and reap the “rewards” (which are actually simply things every human being needs and deserves; love and happiness), atone for their actions but not get to be happy, or would they like them to suffer or be punished instead? Do people really treat basic human needs as “rewards” for being a good person; or are they only reserved for characters that were never bad people in the first place? Remember; all of these characters have inarguably gone through pain during their life. Just how much do people enjoy punitive justice, and should I literally just stick to my corner of the fandom for my own good?

The answer probably won’t surprise you!

Starting off, 82.8% want a happy or neutral ending for Quackity, 59.4% of which think he should experience good things in the end. 54.4% of participants want a happy or neutral ending for Dream, 62.7% of which think it should lead to him being happy and loved. 89.2% of people want a happy or neutral ending for Wilbur, 49.4% of which lean towards happiness over closure.

17.2% of participants would prefer Quackity to experience pain as part of his redemption arc. 8.5% want him to be mentally tormented by the weight of his own actions, and 5.6% think he should be punished before being allowed to get better.

For Dream, these percentages are way higher- and here is the funny thing, I thought that pretty much no one would say he should suffer before healing, because he’s already suffering for his actions indirectly by being abused by people who hate him for them. However, 7.2% of people think he has yet to be punished enough for his crimes in order to deserve being redeemed. 21.5% want him to suffer under the weight of his own actions, and 6.9% would want him to die instead of getting a happy ending. Overall, 45.6% would prefer a redemption arc for Dream in which he is subjected to pain or punishment.

10.8% of participants would want Wilbur to have a more difficult character arc, with the percentages pretty evenly divided between the options.

4. Do people think certain characters in the story don’t deserve to be happy?

“Deserving” basic human needs, or not deserving them for being bad people/being bad people in the past, is something I don’t personally agree with, however this is tumblr, not thought police, so let’s just look at the survey results.

While 68.5% of participants believe all of the characters in the story deserve to be loved and happy, only 66.2% think Wilbur does, 61.5% think Quackity does, and 38.5% think Dream does.

Let’s look at some closing thoughts on the subject as a closing note;

“I want everyone to have a sort of personal redemption. Where they realize they have hurt people. But I think it’s difficult. I mean Dream abused a child. Quackity tortured Dream relentlessly. I think the redemption arc that is the easiest is one for Wilbur because of cc!wilburs acting and emphasis on his characters mental health. But I think Wilburs also done so much f**ked up shit too. I think it’s difficult. I just think the redemption arcs are really really difficult.”

“i genuinely can't help myself, i want everyone to have the chance to be better.”

“i think that wilbur, quackity and sam should be redeemed because we as an audience know that they all believe they're doing the right thing and regret/didn't enjoy hurting people with their actions. but with c!dream, there's a lot more evidence that he knew what he was doing wrong and actively enjoyed doing it.”

“everybody deserves to heal. if someone wants to be better and strives to be better, who is anyone to deprive them of that?”

“I don’t like some of these characters and their actions, but everyone deserves a chance to heal. To work through their trauma.”

“dream doesn’t deserve shit, quackitys probably gonna keep riding the las nevadas train until it crashes and burns and wilbur should move on from being “the villain” and stop seeing everything as black and white”

“No one is beyond deserving help. That's not how the world works and that's not what the story should show in my opinion.”

“narratively, i want redemption and happy endings for all characters but morally, i really despise some of them and i'm also really conflicted about some of them as well”

“I want my faves to be better and I think it's the best possible option for everyone involved, even the characters they've hurt.”

“c!wilbur and c!quackity go to therapy. c!dream get hit by another train /hj”

“Hurt people hurt people. If given a chance to distance yourself from your victims and abusers, if given a safe environment with a support network of people you haven't formerly harmed, you can then heal and let the others heal. Live and let live, but living is harder for everyone when we don't give others the chances they need to grow and change themselves.”

“all of them deserve to find growth and happiness but under no circumstances are those who have been hurt by them obligated to be involved in any aspect of that arc. most obvious example- c!dream is allowed to grow and realize that what he's done is awful, but c!tommy is not obligated to forgive him or even be near him.”

“They can all improve and get better and be better people …. They all deserve a chance to be better and be happy. However. Wilbur and dream should get their "redemption" arcs away from esp. Tommy and all the other people they hurt. Big Q. should get his redemption arc away from Dream and stuff. If the prison was less focused on detainment and more focused on rehabilitation and then Dream had no contact with Tommy for example that's a scenario that I'd like.”

“is quackity actually considered a villain in this story? What has he done wrong lol Create a casino? be emotionally manipulated? have rejection sensitive dysphoria? I don't think he's a good person based on his current actions but i don't think hes a villain. I think he's trying hard to become something hes not. … I hate c!dream and I don't think he can ever get better. hes a manipulator gaslight gatekeep girlboss and i think he deserves to stay in prison and rot. watching the tommy exile arc would make me so angry that i had to stop watching.”

“i'm so CONFLICTED about this! i want the angst, but god the angst has been going on for a LONG time. honestly, i think the conclusion i would be happiest with would be for c!dream, c!quackity, c!sam, c!tommy, and c!wilbur to calm down, get some therapy, and stay VERY FAR AWAY FROM EACH OTHER. god damn, it's like they WANT to get more traumatized,,”

“the loathing i feel directed at c!dream specifically is so goddamn strong. my god i hate that guy. uhhh regarding quackity no i dont feel like he shouldnt feel ANY pain or anything hes done some f**ked up stuff but i mean..? with the exception of the torture hes the most redeemable guy up there for me which is probably because we have seen his entire downward spiral.”

“I have to admit that although I strongly believe no one on the Dream SMP deserves to be tormented and deprived of their healing and happiness, I feel really icky about c!Quackity. I really hope that the ccs find a way to make his redemption logical and satisfying to watch. If that is not the case, I will still welcome it with open arms, but secretly I will be a little bit salty about it.”

“For the last question bit there i wanted to check more then once because i want them all to feel guilty and tormented for what they have done.”

“Yknow.... basic human rights... to be happy and loved isn't something that should be deserved it should be something that everyone is allowed to obtain for themselves and it shouldn't be allowed it should just be…”

“While i think that all of the characters should the chance to get redemption and healing, I’d probably be less likely to watch redemption arcs from c!Quackity and c!Wilbur than c!Dream, just because I dislike them. Not to say that they shouldn’t get them, because I hope they do, I’m just more like to be going “Good for them” in the distance.”

“I JUST WANT THEM ALL TO BE HAPPY PLEASEEEEEEEE -dr3”

“for the final question it doesnt provide a none of the above option or a some of the characters but not all option. since I dont think c!Dream deserves to be happy and loved but I do the other two (to some degree) but answering "all of the characters .. " I feel Includes c!dream who I ultimately just really hate and want to have nothing but a fictional death!”

“therapy. therapy for everyone.”

“f**k c!dream <3 i honestly don’t think people who abuse kids (or anyone) for fun should ever be redeemed i think they should just rot in a hole somewhere”

“It would be hypocritical to say that one character deserves redemption more than another, especially considering they've all done (almost equally) horrible things. Either everyone deserves redemption, or no one does.”

Conclusion: in the end, this is all the ways in which we like to enjoy fiction. However, for some completely unrelated reason, I am now about 45.6% less likely to attempt to interact with anyone outside my immediate group of friends in the fandom.

Thank you for reading!

[hes-writer]

Ruin

Summary: im not sure how to summarize this without spoiling the story

Warning: angst, bits of fluff here and there

Word Count; 4158 words

A/N: the long-awaited part 6 of the Tarnish series! A collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. My attention span is short itself so I've decided to split it up into two parts.

UNEDITED

___

Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.

Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the one to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.

To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.

For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.

Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.

Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.

Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.

____

Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.

Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.

“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.

She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”

And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.

“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”

She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.

One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.

It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.

Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.

“I told him the consequences if he did,”

Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.

Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.

“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.

“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”

Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.

For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.

Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.

Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.

Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.

“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.

Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.

“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.

“Let me see, baby,”

Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.

That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.

Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.

The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”

Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.

“You okay?”

She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”

Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”

Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.

Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.

He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.

Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”

Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.

She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.

“Harry, wait!”

He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”

Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”

“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.

She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”

And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.

“Got it,”

Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”

Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.

“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”

___

Where was he?

It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.

There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.

Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.

Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”

Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.

“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.

Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.

“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.

“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.

_____

Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.

He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“What d’ya think?”

She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.

What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.

Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.

Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.

“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”

She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”

He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.

Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”

Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.

She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.

Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.

Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.

Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”

Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’

“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.

He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.

Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.

___

Let us know what you thought! The seventh part of the Tarnish series will be uploaded on Patreon on Sept 29!

___

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[youwontlikethisblog]

Adriana Arboleda

I find this episode so interesting and since I like to avoid many things, I've put off writing this post because I just don't know where to start.

Previously:

Armando was visibly upset when they mentioned the wedding in front of Betty, it was purely because he didn't want her to once again feel guilty and break things off. While at the same time he overheard a conversation with Nicolas and Betty that sounded like she was jealous and mad at him for "cheating" on her and that he was a bad boyfriend.

This feeds the distrust that Armando has towards Betty's fidelity and his insecurity regarding their relationship(and his role in Betty's life) as well as his rivalry that he has against Nicolas.

Betty was visibly upset with both Nicolas and Armando. For one because Nicolas really is a huge reason as to why Armando feels a certain distrust. As much as I find Nicolas endearing there's many things that annoy me from him. For example the fact that he continues to find ways to converse with Patty even though he knows that Betty doesn't like it, especially that she doesn't want Patty to know anything regarding where he works at and what he does, but Nicolas; to impress Patty, always brings up the topic of money to make himself more desirable. Yeah he's insecure and he wants to get her attention but that doesn't excuse his crappy behavior as Betty's best friend, someone that he considers as his family. That adds so much pressure, distrust, and resentment towards Betty and Armando's relationship. Yes Nic wasn't aware that they were in a relationship to begin with but Betty often times told him, reminded him, and got upset with him for telling or talking to Patsy Pats about Terra Moda or what he does for a living and the dangers of that information getting out.

Two: that Armando is getting married. For one it makes her feel inferior, that their relationship isn't as strong and that Armando isn't serious about her like she is of him.

Armando had convinced Betty to continue the affair, despite the fact he's getting married. He told her it was only for show, that he'd continue with the preparations of the wedding but call it off last minute. Mario had told him that he needed to get Betty on their side because she was the only one that could embellish the balance for the board meeting this is when we start getting the trails to the letter and why Betty rationalized Armando's behavior after reading the letter.

However that isn't the real reason as to why he goes to fix things. It's what he uses as an excuse to justify why he goes to fix things with Betty. Mario, to get him to do this, weaponized what Armando had told him earlier that day about what kind of relationship Betty and Armando have. Had Armando not shared any of what he did he wouldn't have had any ground to continue to manipulate him.

Currently:

It's the morning of the day AA arrives to Eco Moda. When Betty exist her office she sports a huge smile and greets Armando, who is absorbed by her presences and very content. His eyes follow her through his office as she moves around it and just the same, Betty's eyes are on him, barely noticing Mario. When she does, as she's about to exit the office she greets him, we see Armando with a smile just absorbed by her until Mario speaks and he composes himself to act like that didn't make him happy, joyful, at peace, etc...

Why does AA hold such a significance here?

Armando is now slowly accepting and willingly understanding his feelings(he does try to justify them as something else at times). Betty says she has felt this through his kisses and his affection towards her, that she knows that he loves her now and that he is faithful to her-when it comes to Marcela.

However as she said the previous night as she wrote in her diary that she isn't so sure about his love or fidelity when it comes to his true vice; the models. Models like AA.

Jealousy isn't something healthy in any relationship, even when media tries to paint jealousy as this normal and healthy thing that every person experiences, it's not.

In the previous post I mentioned what the definition of Jealous/y is. It's a combination of feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, or resentment but if you look up the definition of it it says "concern over the relative lack of possessions-"

Sometimes it isn't an object, rather a person, however the issue lays within the fact that person who feels the jealousy views said person as an object rather than a human. Armando's jealousy is possessive, insecure and resentful however Betty's jealousy is of inadequacy and insecurity. She doesn't feel resentful towards Armando for being attracted to "beautiful" women. She expects that from him.

AA represents Betty's insecurity as a woman in a physical form. When Betty finds out AA wants to see and speak with Armando privately she tries to stop that from happening, contrary to the past when she'd help the man out, this time she tries to stick to "he said he doesn't want to be bothered" but when Armando realizes who wants to speak to him he ignores his duties as the president of the company and the importance of him being in said meeting for the future collection, which will help Eco Moda be able to pay off its debt. Betty knows this so when she sees that Armando doesn't stop to think, at least of the company, much less consider her(the true nature of her anger), and that he is an easy prey or weak idiot to women like AA she gets angry at him but her jealousy lays where she feels the most insecure.

Armando forgets of Betty and how happy he was when he saw her that morning. Now all he can think about is AA.

AA is the symbol and the token object of Armando's weakness: seggs with society's "perfect" women. He places this "need" of his above anything, his responsibilities as president, as an engaged man, and as someone in an committed and mature relationship.

I find Mario's behavior interesting in this scene however. He stares at Armando with raised eyebrows and a frown on his face, contrary to before where he was trying to keep himself from laughing, however freaked out over Armando's feelings, this time he's annoyed at him.

I keep trying to figure out why he'd get annoyed at him for this. In this scene Betty is behind Mario, where Inesita and Armando have a clear view of her. Betty is trying to stay composed and not let the personal seep into the impersonal so Mario hasn't seen her. Yes we're fully aware that Mario is a man that is extremely detail oriented when it comes to human behavior which gives him an advantage to manipulate people and get whatever he wants out of them so he can simply assume, by Betty's tone, that she isn't pleased by this. However this scene and Mario's behavior is very much unlike him.

This is my speculation, not what we are being told.

Maybe based on how Armando had spoken about his relationship with Betty and his feelings for her, Mario was annoyed at Armando for his behavior like saying "How can you say you cherish her and that you love her as a friend and then do this to her? And yet I'm the terrible one? The one that doesn't understand why the plan is wrong? The one with iron skin?" or one could simply point out that Mario didn't want to get stuck doing most of the work in the meeting while Armando went off to spend time with a hot woman.

Later when Betty agrees that they should take a break, when Betty exits the office(I'm skipping that scene for now) and Mario is walking up to it he asks her if Armando is still in there, she tells him that he is and with AA. Mario then says he shouldn't go in there and interrupt them then but he notices Betty's demeanor and asks her if she's alright.

Betty doesn't look at him, she doesn't pay him attention. She doesn't even make eye contact with him so again Mario behaves naturally.

Of course he pretends to be unaware of the relationship Armando has with Betty. He says he won't go in there and interrupt them, but he pays close attention to Betty.

We're all fully aware that Mario would be capable of seducing Betty. He lacks all the moral and ethic rules to not do that. Mario is a villain, a well written one. So his behavior here is just odd imo.

I do believe and know based on his character, that Mario is also annoyed at Armando for screwing up once more, therefore jeopardizing the company and all that it implies. However, take into consideration what happened the previous day. Mario isn't stupid, he is way too smart. He knows that Armando deeply cares for Betty, he's known this all along though he has also tried to deny any true motive of Armando caring for Betty because she's ugly and he knows his best friend and only uses Armando's feelings towards Betty when it benefits him. He knows that Betty is important and special to Armando. Unlike Marcela.

Mario pointed this out the previous day when he told him that he[A] had made love with Marcela in the past but that from what Armando had shared it had never been sweet. He is fully aware that Betty is vastly different to all the other women Armando has been with and it's not only because she's "ugly" but because Betty is of extreme importance and significance to Armando.

Does Mario disprove of Armando's behavior towards AA being in Eco Moda? Yes.

For two reasons: One that Armando is screwing up the plan again. Two that Armando is a hypocrite who gets mad at him for making jokes about their relationship but then he goes and does that, (which is an even bigger disrespect to Betty, Armando's Betty.) all while constantly telling Mario that he is scum because he feels no guilt while he does.

Does Mario care about Betty's feelings? No and if he does it's not enough to make him have a change of heart because what he truly cares about is remaining in the social statues he's on with being the wingman of Armando.

Again even if he did care a little about how Betty feels it's not enough for him to re-evaluate his role in the plan and what comes above that is Eco Moda's ownership but it gives him more intel on how to manipulate Armando. In the meeting board, when he finally got a view of Betty when she went to sit back down at the table, Mario examined her quickly, did so as the meeting continued, glancing at her, studying her.

Resuming to a chronological order.

As Armando leaves to his office to speak privately to AA, Betty stays behind in the conference room with Inesita and Mario where as Mario said, she looked broken and not her computer like self.

Once Inesita suggest they take a break Betty says she'll go to her office, to which we see Mario with his worried expression, look at her and then turn to look towards Armando's office doors in a silent plea that Betty doesn't catch him indecent.

In their office, Armando is busy talking with AA so Betty doesn't catch some indecent Armando, but because she knows him, she knows that he's capable of acting like everything is normal. When she looks at AA she looks her up and down, insecure in herself as a woman with such a woman in the same room. Armando in this scene is absorbed by AA's body, a contrast to when he was absorbed by Betty's presence(that includes body). Barely paying attention to Betty and speaking to AA in an informal and casual way, something he doesn't even do with her. In some places in Latin America speaking formally is a sign of respect and impersonalism. When you speak more casually it implies a personalized relationship with someone: meaning that they have a more deeper connection than someone you work with, a friend, a family member, a lover, etc. Betty and Armando aren't even on that and they've had seggs.

Betty takes note of this, again, this now moves on from her simply being insecure as a woman to now being mad at Armando for behaving this way.

Once Betty exits the office to go grab their refreshments she overhears Armando call AA espectacular

Whenever Betty is mad she always places her hand to her hip. As she stops to talk to Marcela she does this, again implying her anger towards Armando.

The last thing I'll note about this whole AA thing at this time is how both Betty and Marcela react. Marcela goes into the office fuming, throwing shade and whatnot to display her jealousy towards AA and her possessiveness towards Armando, however Betty only displays her anger towards Armando while very minimalistically showing her jealousy because of AA.

Marcela's anger was targeted towards both of them while Betty's was towards Armando.

Later that day after AA leaves, Betty remains angry. When Armando tries to apologize for yelling at her, Betty ignores him and tells him they need to get back to work.

Armando not only made her feel insignificant as a woman but he also said she got on his last nerve, tell me you wouldn't feel bad about yourself and be mad at the person who did that.

Obviously Betty feels inferior to AA. Who wouldn't if we're being honest? She's hot. Again when it comes to Betty it isn't hard to understand or sympathies with her over this.

However lets just remember that Betty has always felt insecure and inferior as a human being and a woman.

Insecurity presents itself in many ways. For some it could be them acting loud and obnoxious, like Armando. For others it could be them never asking for anything or expecting anything because they believe they don't deserve anything, like Betty.

Slowly however, her relationship with Armando has built her self-esteem. She walks a bit taller, she doesn't have such a tremble in her voice anymore unless she's speaking to Marcela or Daniel. Even on this day she dresses differently. She sports a more juvenile outfit, there's a glow to her. Though her clothing isn't form fitting or revealing, she has changed her clothing. Even now since they started to date she doesn't wear the super long skirts with the very boxy blazers from the shoulders or the clothes she wore at the start of the show. She wears the green dress, the yellow, red, and black dress often and the green skirt suit(the olive green one with the skirt that's shorter than all the other ones she wears).

In the past, on one of their first dates, Betty joked that she was ugly and Armando got upset with her, told her that he didn't like that and that she needed to respect herself. Ironic ain't it?

Armando's sole attention has given her a boost of ego, but his confirmation the night they sinned(lol) that he too felt what she felt for him, which was desire, has helped her a lot. Again to recall what her first time was like, this second time around it built her self-esteem. Especially because since then Armando hasn't been able to keep his hands to himself whenever Betty and him have been alone together, out of office hours.

(Currently listening to the YSBLF playlist on Spotify and honestly I just wanna dance)

The previous night though aware of Armando's fidelity to her when it came to Marcela, which was why she said she felt no jealousy or the likes in regards to that relationship(outside of guilt) she still is very aware of Armando's s. addiction tendencies. It isn't only a matter in which Armando is weak to women like that that even when he doesn't want to cheat on Marcela or whomever, he still falls for their manipulative or even pushy tactics to get him to sleep with them.

Let's not forget that Betty knows Armando and his behavior when it comes to the Models because unlike Marcela who has only seen snip bits when she stands behind him when he's flirting, Betty has seen it and heard it all from Armando. She has been in the room when Armando and Mario discuss how to get away with his affairs, she has seen him in action, she has even heard and seen the way he plays women. However Betty lacks the knowledge we have of Armando's seggsual affairs.

What does this mean?

To Betty, this weakness of Armando is solely based on the body of the women he is sleeping with(which are all A Grade) and though to some degree this is true(his obsession with perfection etc.) there's more to it. Armando, aside from having slept with her and saying he desired her, has never acted eager to jump her bones or expressed it like he has about all the other women he has been with. He has never made her feel validated as women for her body, though she knows he has an emotional attraction to her, she doesn't believe he has a physical one(I'll get to that scene in time ok! for now I'm talking about it like they haven't screwed again) for her, or at least one that matters. So when she sees AA in the office and she looks her up and down Betty compares herself, not as Armando's girlfriend, but as a woman in general.

For us women looks are the most important and most valuable thing we're told we have. Without them, what are we?

When you grow up being the "other" of society standards for women you grow up with no self-worth. Comparing yourself to others becomes second nature. We know Betty has said she grew up lonely, only Nicolas was her friend, kids in school made fun of her. She never had this moment when she looked at herself and was at least okay with what she was staring at. The contrary, she hated it but learned to tolerate it. Her self deprecating jokes were her acceptance of it, her way to cope with the way the world treated her. It was for her to be able to not care as much about it. However the way people treat her based on her looks still stings and this time it's a lot more.

Could you put yourself in her shoes? All your life you go about it feeling lonely, ugly, unwanted, inadequate, etc. and one day after so much heart ache, a terrible relationship that left you emotionally disfigured and scarred, a man that is desired by so many women AND men, who is "educated", "smart", handsome and has a good sense of humor pays attention to you, how would you feel?

Realistically speaking; a lot more insecure.

Some people hate themselves so much that they hate when people take notice of them because it's like saying "you have terrible taste if you like me, therefore you are not as great." Burdening someone with your own self-hatred. Betty has shown this in the past, when Armando first started to pursue her. She asked him time and time again why he'd be interested in her or notice her because a man like him could never notice her as more than just his employee.

AA is the incarnation of Betty's own dilema. Her self-hatred and insecurity as a woman because in her eyes she lacks beauty. Body wise she doesn't have Meat on her bones, she has frizzy wavy hair, doesn't wear makeup and has one eyebrow plus a mustache. However, despite this, Armando has fallen in love with her and in a matter of seconds this is shattered.

Armando forgets who Betty is for him. He forgets what he feels for her, the importance and significance of her to him and his life and is enveloped with the idea of AA wanting to speak to him and not in this "fanatic" manor but as a man wanting to conquer. Betty's ego isn't only hurting but she(in complete) is hurting by this. Next to Marcela she knows she is the one to hold Armando's heart and now his desires, but next to women like AA, she is insignificant not just as a woman, but as a person in general.

Especially after Armando yells at her, after a long time of not doing so, he yells at her in front of AA, he forgets Betty is even in the room or in the world. While with Marcela he tries not to bring her up or the subject of the wedding because he knows it hurts her(visibly kept glancing towards her office when AA was asking about it, confirming that whenever he seeks her comfort when she isn't with him in the room he'll be facing or standing by her office), he doesn't even consider her when AA is the room. She's heard him say he'd forget all of his commitments and relationships and run away with AA and marry her, just that day she saw him kiss a picture of her and basically make out with it.

She believes that unlike Marcela, AA is real competition because she's hawt(even though Marcela is hawt too) however she knows that Armando isn't in love with Marcela or even interested in her for that fact but she knows that Armando is of AA. However again because Betty is so insecure as a woman she believes that she isn't even in a competition with AA, because if AA wanted to, she'd take Armando and he wouldn't even put up a fight, he'd go willingly on the first attempt. Add that to Armando saying that Betty gets on his last nerve?

He dug his own grave.

One could ask how is it possible that Armando didn't pick up on Betty being jealous?

For one because Armando has only experienced Marcela's jealousy which is loud and arrogant. She throws shade, she yells at him, she demands from him. Betty doesn't do that. She interrupts his one on one time with AA by entering his office and looking for some paper work. She drops a box full of things to ruin any momentum he could be building with AA. Her jealousy is displayed in quiet and timid ways. The one time it she makes it "loud" enough is when she hears Armando flirting with AA and steps out of her office and stands in the middle of them, until he notices her, but then, after she bumps into him, he yells at her. You can tell right away this isn't just like when he yelled at her in the past that it made her want to cry(I mean who doesn't want to cry when they're being yelled at) but this time it was something that hurt her deeply. For the reasons mentioned above.

And two because he's clueless. Though in the past episodes we have seen Armando learn to be in sync with Betty's feelings and make an effort to be attentive and understanding, all of that work of his is thrown out the window when AA appears, making Betty not only feel inferior and insecure as a woman in general but making her feel like she's nothing, not even in a "my fav. employee" type of way. He makes her feel worthless as his girlfriend.

This is when the hurt moves on to anger.

Anger at herself and anger at him for making her feel this way.

When the Love Guru brings all of this to his attention, Armando has a face of realization.

He truthfully thought Betty was just being her unaware and naïve employee self. The one who trips, who doesn't back up her files on disks, y'know, the one she was at the start of the novel. He doesn't think that Betty is acting out in jealousy because again she doesn't act like Marcela does.

When he finally realizes this thanks to Mr. Dimples, we see the sudden "oh crap" face. Like it all made sense and he knew he messed up.

It's interesting to see how these scenes play such a huge roll to Betty finally speaking up in the relationship later that night.

Sorry this post took so long for me to write. I wanted to fully understand the huge significance of Adriana Arboleda as she has been one since the start of their affair, unbeknownst of Betty.

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 6

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron 

Chapter 6 - Ruin

Words: 5.9k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Mentions of war/death, kissing, a healthy dose of the ‘sharing a bed’ trope, ANGST, sexual education because who doesn’t want to read about that in fanfiction, vague description of a female medical procedure

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

A softened sigh left me, knowing it was probably time to let Poe say his piece. He’d been so silent until now that I felt compelled to hear what had been stirring inside his mind while I’d held him in quiet contempt.

“Alright. I’m listening.”

He flicked on one of the dimmed lamps next to the bed, a gentle glow illuminating the room, watching as he proceeded to carefully extricate himself from under the sheets, the soreness as a result of the rehab we’d performed today now evident in his concentrated expression.

I drew myself up into a seated position on the sofa as he made his way to sit on the small table at my front, not attempting to meet my eyes until he’d slowly placed himself down on the metal. His face was less than a meter from mine, pupils drifting upwards until finally, our stares locked.

“I’m sorry,” he declared, his words heavy. “I understand why you’re angry. I get it, okay? Years of battle after battle, fight after fight, it becomes difficult to consider those working under the First Order’s control as people. People with families, loved ones, even children. They appear as targets, there simply to be eliminated. And it’s you or them. Either you perish, or you put the rational thought into the back of your mind and fight back.”

Poe glanced down, fixated to the floor, his jaw tight. “I do think about it sometimes, the people I’ve... murdered. I’ve spent sleepless nights wondering if killing in the name of freedom was a good enough reason to send people to an early death. When you don’t see their faces it’s…. easier. You don’t see the bloodshed, the corpses. You just see the fiery explosion of their ships fading into the black void of space.”

I stayed rigid in the sofa, hands clutching the into cushions. It was difficult to hold down the simmer of anger that boiled in my stomach, since everything so far only reinforced what I felt like I’d determined hours ago. Even while my demeanour remained stormy, Poe continued.

“All I heard in my childhood was my father reminding me of the way he and my mother fought for what they believed to be right. Both of them lived and battled through a time like ours, under the thumb of a regime hungry for power, sparing no innocents in their pursuit of it.” He became lost in memory, the aura drifting around him stained with a subtle sorrow. “‘People were hurting. People were suffering. Your father and I couldn’t sit and do nothing.’ That’s what my mother had told me, a child of two, as her reasoning for joining the Alliance in their efforts to push back against what threatened all type of freedom in this galaxy. My parents offered to sacrifice their lives on the tiniest shred of hope that me, and every other being on every planet, would see peace in their lifetime.”

His eyes finally shifted back to focus on mine. They were determined, yet soft, the chocolate fibers of his irises melting together. “I just... wanted to be like her. Like them. I wanted to do what they did. I wanted them to be proud of me, to have faith that their legacy would live on after they were gone. To provide freedom and peace like they had. Even if that meant sacrificing my own life, even if that meant killing those who opposed it. I had to. I had to join the people that wanted the same thing as me.”

A growing ferocity began to radiate, his voice severe. “I witnessed so many of my fellow soldiers, my friends, die thoughtlessly at the hands of others. And I wanted them to feel the same pain that I felt. Is it hypocritical? Of course, I know that. Is it cruel? Yes, murder is rarely not. But it's in the name of protection, defiance against control from an overpowering force. Those who fight with the First Order, who take over planets and kill innocents for the sake of power, they know what they’re doing. They know the consequences, the outcome, the hold the galaxy will be strangled under if they succeed. And they do it anyway. Our cause isn’t more noble, it’s self-defence. We’re trying to protect the ones who aren’t able to fight back, and those who don’t deserve to be born into a world that will crush them into submission.”

Poe’s features turned darker, leaning in close. “I will never stop thinking about the lives I’ve taken. I will never not hold myself accountable for the sins I’ve committed. But I will also not sit and do nothing. I don’t need you to accept it, but at least try to understand. You and I want the same thing, in the end, to save as many people as possible in our short lifetime. I’m just doing the best I can to see that through.”

While I instinctively took a breath in preparation to speak, nothing came. He’d rendered me speechless.

I had no reply to give, no counterargument, no flaw to point out. His honesty floored me, raw emotion and long-felt guilt rising up for me to observe so openly. The pain behind his eyes seemed so much more acute than any of the other injuries he’d sustained, not trying to shield it from my view as he spoke.

I tried to find words, anything to articulate my forgiveness. Because I did understand. He’d made me see it, the same anguish over death that I felt. But he’d also made me realise what a coward I was.

Against the people who would kill him or control him, he fought back. While I hid myself away under the guise of selflessness.

I thought I was the hero of my story, giving up my home, my old life, for the benefit of the downtrodden people of this planet. In reality, I was a scared little girl, too gutless to push back against those I, and so many others in this galaxy, feared. And here Poe was, putting himself in harm’s way, every day, in the hopes that he could take away our fear forever.  

He began to rise in front of me, taking my lack of reply as an answer in itself. He seemed despondent, his face sullen as he turned to limp back to the bed.

A different kind of fury coursed through me, fury at myself for how easily I’d judged him, at how cruelly I’d treated him.

I couldn’t let the night end this way.

I picked myself up from the sofa and quickly lunged at his wrist, pulling him to face me. He was surprised, glancing with wide eyes to where my hand had caught him, then to my face. I tried desperately to convey it there, everything I wanted to say, struggling to find my voice. Poe waited for me to speak the words I clearly had sitting on the edge of my tongue, but everything I conjured didn���t seem to be enough, the jumbled thoughts swirling incoherently in my mind, never letting me quite grasp onto them long enough to form exactly what I needed to express.

Tension filled the space between us, thick and overwhelming. I soon began outlining the lines of his face, the crease currently stuck in his brow, the curve of his nose, the contour of his jaw, the arch of his lips.

My hands found themselves catching each side of his face, pulling his mouth to mine in a desperate kiss.

I’d held it back for so long, too long, now unable to deny the burning urge to melt my lips into his. He was alarmed at first, his mouth frozen from movement as he comprehended my sudden attack.

Yet quickly he was syncing his lips fluidly with mine, a hand rising to clutch the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His casted arm curled around my waist, pressing my body into his, feeling the heat radiating off his chest.

The fire in my lower abdomen roared into bright red flames again, spreading into the rest of my body like molten lava. He tasted even better than I’d imagined, our tongues beginning to find each other through parted mouths. Fingers moved into his hair, hungrily grasping at the curled strands, causing a low moan to seep from his throat. The sound made me even more forceful in my need for his lips to be connected with mine, barely having time to breathe in-between our eager kisses.

I wanted to have him, all of him, so deeply it was painful, the searing burn lighting up in my veins.

Don’t do this Alexys. It will ruin you.

My breath hitched as I reluctantly pulled away, looking up, seeing his pupils swollen. He was cautious then, moving his hand from my neck to push a strand of hair behind my ear, almost if at any moment I would flee from his embrace.

And that’s what half of me was begging to do, the other screaming at me to lock our lips together again. I felt split into two, a cracking beginning to divide me roughly in the middle.

I could see Poe searching through my gaze, trying to assess my thoughts, whether it was safe to continue. He leaned in gradually, testing my reaction. I didn’t recoil this time. I didn’t want to.

His lips melted into mine, less insistent than before, although somehow just as intimate. Inhibitions lowered, my hands slid down to his chest, noticing the hard muscles underneath my palms and feeling the fire inside me surge. I wanted to feel the bare skin underneath, to have it pressed against my own. To explore the other parts of him covered by clothes. To forget even for a short time that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this.

Poe gently withdrew, leaning his forehead into mine. “I know.”

“Know what?”

He exhaled a long breath. “I know you don’t want to do this.”

I replaced my hands to his cheeks. “You have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you.” The truth of the words made me feel both vulnerable and safe, for the first time giving in to the yearning I’d hoped to keep locked inside my chest.

He tensed, a slight tremble in the arm that curved around my body. But his face grew sombre, almost... sad. “You don’t. Not completely. I can feel you wanting to hold back,” he murmured. “I can feel your fear.”

I swallowed hard, unable to refute him. “…I’m sorry. I want to. But I just… I can’t."

We both looked down, my confirmation making the tone of our connection shift. He was silent for what felt like a long time, and we stayed motionless in our embrace, neither wanting it to end, knowing it was inevitable that we would have to part.

“Why?” he breathed. “Why are you afraid?”

I wanted to be honest with him, like he had been for me, so much the sensation felt like it was clawing out from inside me, determined to burst through the skin. But there was a barrier there, one I had forged long ago. Unyielding and impenetrable to anything or anyone.

Although, I felt another realisation simmer to the surface of my mind, one that was not nearly as exposing, but still true.

“You’re going to leave. And I have to stay here. I don’t… I don’t want that to hurt any more than it has to.”

It seemed to hit him then, like he hadn’t let the thought enter his mind before. The awareness of our predicament shone brightly in his eyes, a light switch flickering on.

His hand moved to my cheek, grazing his thumb softly against the skin, my heart throbbing inside its cage at his light touch. I watched as eyes scanned over my face, back and forth, as if memorising the features. It was then I knew he’d come to the same conclusion.

It wouldn’t be long before we would part, most likely to never see each other again. If we went any further, if we crossed that line, the pain of saying goodbye would become so much more unbearable.

Almost simultaneously, we let our hold on each other loosen, the disappointment in the air almost palatable on my tongue. The smouldering inside had burnt out, suffocated by the gloom weighing heavy in my chest. Poe took my hand in his, his eyes pleading. “Can I ask one thing of you?’

I moved my head in a slow nod.

“Sleep in this bed with me tonight. Just sleep. I promise.” It was an earnest request, his face imploring and unguarded.

In contempt of the voice in my head bellowing at me that this was a terrible idea, I agreed. “Okay.”

Together we tentatively walked to each side of the mattress, making no rush to slip under the covers and settle into the pillows. I faced away, fearing if I looked at Poe's charming face any longer, I would surrender to the pull of desire that never seemed to relent. I didn’t know how I was ever going to be able to fall asleep like this, his body radiating an energy that vibrated into the space between us, keeping me all too aware of his presence.

There was movement, a dip in the mattress, Poe’s arms curling around my torso, pulling me close. His face buried itself into my hair, the warmth of his gradual exhale sending charged shivers down my spine. Placing my arms over his, silently accepting his embrace, I felt my heart thump a calming glow through my chest, all the way to the end of my limbs.

I’d never felt so peaceful, so whole, becoming lost in the comfort of his hold, wishing I could bask in it forever.

But reality bit at me, cold and uninvited, reminding me of the goodbye I would have to give soon enough.

*

We were still entangled when consciousness came again, the dim light of early sunrise leaking through my window. Poe’s arms circled around me, my body fitting perfectly into his.

He was still asleep, his face resting just at the back of my head, slow breaths bristling into my hair. I relished the feeling of it all, trying to commit it to my memory.

I stayed there, motionless, waiting for time to run out, knowing I would be chasing the feeling of this in the months, maybe years, to come. Thinking about his future absence made me terrifyingly lonely, even with his arms wrapped around now.

Eventually the seconds ticked down to my chronometer alarm buzzing, rustling Poe awake from his slumber. I assumed he would begin to move, pulling away, this one night that bonded us together finally ending. Yet he stayed as unmoving as I had been, the only indication he had awoken the increased depth of his inhale, a small tense of his muscles. I went to move, to switch the screeching sound off, but he clutched me back into his chest, squeezing tight.

As much as my heart thumped at the pressure of his hips into mine, the noise of my alarm was grating. “Let me turn it off,” I whispered. “I’ll come right back.”

Poe loosened his grip reluctantly, allowing me to reach over to the screeching machine and mute its sound. I settled back comfortably into his arms again, as he nuzzled his face into my neck, lips faintly placing a kiss on the skin.

“Poe… please… don’t…”

His sigh whistled past my neck. “Come with me, when I leave.”

It annoyed me, his fleeting demand so easily spoken. As if I could suddenly give up all that encompassed my life before he appeared, the beings that depended on me. But his voice was so sincere, so entreating in the early morning, that the irritation dashed away from the forefront of my mind.

“You know I can’t do that.”

He acknowledged my answer in the shift of his body from around me, moving himself out of the bed we had shared for the night and leaving me alone underneath the sheets.

It burned, the unprecedented disconnection of his shape from mine, my chest forming into a black hole in the realisation I might never feel him that close again.

I wanted to let my emotion to take over, to give in to the pain that rushed to me now as the finality of our night cradled together became evident. But I refused to release it, my resolve from the night before holding strong. I knew I’d made it harder by giving in to Poe's innocent plea of sharing a slumber within his embrace, but I wasn’t going to let our farewell completely ruin me.

With a forced composure, I rose from my bedside, focusing on the appointments scheduled to fill my day. Through my haze I recalled many of them being young female patients in need of birth control. I would somehow have to shut Poe away, wanting to give these women the privacy they deserved.

*

Poe and I appeared to use the ‘freshers at the same time, the searing heat I usually liked being showered with restrained no matter how high I pushed the temperature button. Eventually I’d readied myself for the workday ahead, deciding on a pencil skirt and lightened blue blouse tucked into the waist, working my hair into a ponytail.

It was when I’d begun making breakfast, for both myself and all the company that I kept in the clinic at the moment, that Poe emerged back into my quarters in a set of dark black hospital clothes. I glanced at him only briefly as he entered, hearing him pull out a chair, not daring to look at his face yet.

“Smells good,” he uttered, breaking the silence that existed in exemption to the sautéed chicken eggs and nuna bacon sizzling in the large pan in front of me.

“It’s almost ready,” I remarked, feeling completely the disconnection between us in his tone. Half of me was glad he accepted the separation we needed to make, the other mourning the severed bond we had formed in the connection of our bodies. But I had to let it go, whatever was left of the fragile link that survived the night.

I continued preparing the hot meal, separating the foodstuff between Poe and Vixur’s crew. Once I’d gently placed a share in front of Poe at the table, a smile meeting him fleetingly, I took the rest with me, balancing the four dishes on my hands and forearms, moving cautiously through the hallway.

With impeccable timing Vixur and his students were conversing between each other, obviously having woken just before I came to greet them.

“I’ve got breakfast for you all,” I announced, setting it down at the meeting table across from my computer. It was generally used as a place I could sit with patients and their families when giving them their diagnosis or explaining treatment plans, but today it would have to work as a secondary dining table. All four men jabbered back thankyous as they moved quickly to sit and eat, their appreciation evident in the way they gulped down the meal without hesitation. I returned to my quarters to find Poe picking lazily at his food, only a few bites eaten.

“Does it taste bad?” I asked from behind him, before circling to my seat at the table.

He looked up swiftly, as if I’d startled him. He must have been deeply lost in thought not to hear me treading down the hallway.

“It’s delicious,” he urged. “I’m just… not that hungry.”

“Are you feeling alright? Are you still sore? Are you-“

“Alex, I’m fine,” he interrupted. “You can’t fix a bad mood with any of your treatments.”

I looked at him curiously. “Bad mood?”

Did I do that to him?

“Did you not sleep well?”

He didn’t answer me right away, a subtle scowl settling in his lips. “It was actually... the most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

I fought the urge to beam at him, a smile waiting to form, but the gloomy expression he wore held it down. I had to agree with him - it truly was the most comfortable rest I’d experienced in recent memory. And knowing I would never feel that peaceful, dreamless slumber in his arms again made me fully understand why he was frowning.

“Thank you so much for the meal Alex. I just... don’t have an appetite right now.” Poe rose from his seat and took his plate to clean, his sombre mood spilling into my body and taking over. Wringing his hands dry, He turned back to me. “Is it still alright if I keep using your office to continue working on BB-8?”

I nodded. “It would actually be preferable. Most of my patients today are women, and I need privacy for their appointments. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out, okay?”

Poe understood what I’d only hinted at. “Sure thing. I won’t step a foot out that room without your permission.”

A kind smile formed on his lips, but it fell as he moved from my quarters, leaving me to my breakfast, which now seemed extremely unappetizing.

*

“Well, Kaia, you’ve got a couple of options,” I started. It was my 5th appointment of the day, and I was starting to lose all hope in the young generation that followed mine. “You can get the implant, which lasts 5 years and protects you from pregnancy. But it can be a painful procedure, and unfortunately the implant itself is quite expensive. There are injections which last 3 months, but you’ll have to see me again in that time frame. I know that’s hard for you being from the South village. But there’s always prophylactics, which your partner has to use, every separate time you want to be intimate.”

Kaia was a 17-year-old human girl who had obviously not been taught any helpful sex education. Although, that wasn’t uncommon in these villages.

“But, like,” she began to question. “Can’t he just, like, not, um, finish in there?”

I drew in a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time I’d explained this today. “Technically yes, if he withdraws from you before that moment comes, it does lessen the chance of pregnancy. But Kaia, there’s a lot of fluid already leaking from him before then, fluid that can contain sperm. It doesn’t protect you. Not fully.”

Kaia was thoughtful, taking in my words. “But what if he doesn’t want to use the sheath?”

“Well... that’s his decision. But then you have to make yours. A decision that you’re more than allowed to make. One night could lead to either a future of motherhood or even diseases that could cause a great deal of damage to your body.”

“Ew,” Kaia recoiled. “I mean, I get what you’re saying. But Miss Jago, haven’t you ever been so swept up in the moment that you didn’t think about any of that?”

My jaw clenched, catching me off guard with her question. None of the other women had posed it to me. “It’s not been an issue for me,” I said flatly.

“Because of the birth control, right?” she surmised. “Which one do you use then?”

Oof, caught me out again.

“I don’t have the need for it. Kaia, this is not about me-”

“Wait, what?” she gasped. “But you’re so pretty?”

I soaked my voice in its professional tone. “This is your appointment Kaia, we’re not here to discuss my personal life.”

Kaia refused to comply. “But you’ve done it, right?”

I sighed, irritated. “Yes Kaia, but we took all the necessary precautions.”

“Well that doesn’t make it sound very fun,” Kaia huffed.

I tried desperately to hold back the aversion wanting to show on my face. It hadn’t been fun. It was clunky, awkward and somewhat painful. And I felt a spike of envy that this teenager already seemed to have had better experience with the opposite sex than I did.

“Look, your options are there. If I had to choose one, and I was with a partner I could trust had nothing that could spread to me, I’d go with the implant.”

She contemplated my advice, pulling her hands up to let her chin rest on them. “I think you’re right Miss Jago. But my parents would never help me pay for it.”

“That’s alright,” I replied, already knowing the home situation Kaia found herself in. She’d made the trek to my clinic alone, without her parent’s knowledge, just to see me for this single reason. I doubted they even knew she had a boyfriend. “How about I put the implant in today, and we figure out payment later?”

Kaia’s face lit up, eyes brimming with delight. “Really?”

I smiled at her and nodded.

“Thank you!” she squealed, face barely containing her excitement.

Really, this was for both her benefit and my own. I wasn’t about to face her parents when it would ultimately be me providing the news their daughter was pregnant. I didn’t want Kaia to go through that, a young pregnancy in a poor village after her parents would most likely cast her out.

“Remember I said this can be a painful procedure, and you’ll be sore for a day or two afterwards.”

Kaia nodded, understanding, yet unable to hold back her joy.

*

I worked my way through the process of setting her implant, my mind on autopilot while I thought more about the question Kaia innocently queried. I’d never come close to the type of desire that would have caused me to throw away all caution and rational thought. Not until-

“Hey Alex!” I heard from the other side of the curtain I’d drawn for Kaia’s discretion. “I know I said I wouldn’t come out until you said, but I’ve got something I need to show you.”

Poe’s voice was exuberant and proud, annoyingly unaware of the fact I had my hand in a very delicate place. My eyes shot to Kaia’s, her cheeks already flushing red with mortification.

“Poe!” I fumed, not hiding my anger. “I asked you to do one thing!”

I sensed his panic from behind the fabric separating us. “Kriff! Sorry!” His voice changed when he spoke next, a hurried whisper. “BB, come back here! We can’t show her yet!”

A streaming mechanical movement could be heard in my periphery, turning my head to see a shadow moving along the bottom of the curtain. I took the moment to stop what I was doing, covering Kaia with a sheet.

I was thankful I did that when the BB-8 droid slip through a break in the drape, caring little for what Poe had ordered him to do. His little head sat hovering above his balled body, for the first time actually staying in position. The photoreceptor, which looked like a singular eye, was also finally lit as he zoomed closer. While an impressed smirk started to beam as I realised Poe had managed to get his little friend working, it was rapidly overtaken by irritation at the droid’s lack of courtesy.

Poe was cursing under his breath, then apologetic. “Alex and uh, patient, I am so sorry. BB, get out of there!” BB-8 let out a few indiscernible beeps, a language I didn’t understand, although Poe seemed to. “I don’t care! They need privacy. You can see her later!” he hollered.

The droid made what sounded like a high-pitched huff as its head dropped, like it knew it had been scolded. Its head swivelled around on top it’s body and rolled away, again sliding through the break in the curtain.

“Come on, back this way.” I listened to the combination of footsteps and mechanical whirring move back into the hallway, a door eventually clicking closed. Looking apologetically back to Kaia, her face was still stunned at the intrusion.

“I am so sorry. I told him to stay put until my appointments were over. It’s okay if you want to stop for a moment,” I offered, trying to stay as calm as possible.

Kaia blinked purposefully a few times before being able to focus back to me. “No it’s okay. I’m ready.”

I admired her composure, while I remained silently boiling under the surface.

*

“What the hell Poe?” I snarled, barging into my office where Poe sat, seemingly interrupting a conversation he was having with BB-8. I’d clawed my anger into submission for the rest of Kaia’s appointment, but now it was ready to surge outward.

Poe stood, arms held up in surrender. “I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t think, and it was just really bad timing.” BB-8 beeped in what sounded like agreeance, rolling around from behind the office desk into my view.

“It was the worst timing!” I snapped. “That girl was 17, in a very vulnerable position, and you scared the living daylights out of her!”

“I know, and I can’t apologise enough Alex, really!” His face was pleading, brown eyes soft yet desperate. “I was just so excited about BB working again, and I wanted to show you.”

His sincerity disarmed me, my fury sizzling down, suffocated by his apology. I took a slow breath in, eyes closed, reigning it in further. “Please don’t disregard my instructions again,” I grumbled.

He nodded, as did BB-8, and my eyes focused on the droid. He was oddly cute in his appearance, his small beeps already annoyingly adorable. “Hello,” I greeted, all frustration now clean from my voice. “My name is Alexys.” I kneeled down to his eye level and he immediately wheeled directly in front of me, beeping somewhat of his own introduction.

“He said it’s nice to meet you,” Poe clarified, still hesitant at the easy change in my mood.

I looked up at him, curious. “You can understand those sounds he makes?”

“Most of it,” Poe answered. “It’s a form of Binary. Having him with me for so long helped me grow accustomed to the pitch and time changes in his beeps.”

My eyebrows rose, fascinated. “That’s so impressive.” BB-8 squealed in uneven time, his eye looking over to Poe, who almost looked bashful. “What? What did he say?”

He shot BB-8 an irritated look before meeting his eyes to mine. “It’s nothing important. His circuits are still a little fried.”

I wasn’t convinced, but then again I didn’t speak droid. "I'm glad you got him working,” I said earnestly, pleased there hadn’t been any type of casualty from his crash.

Poe sighed, relieved. “Me too. He’s the best co-pilot I’ve ever had.”

BB-8 whistled happily, evidently pleased with the praise, and its sweetness made me smile.

“Alexys?” Vixur suddenly called, his voice echoing down the hall. “Are you back there?”

I left Poe and BB-8 without a word, finding Vixur standing at the hallway entrance, his clothes smeared in dirt and dark grease. “Everything okay?”

Vixur nodded, evidently tired, still an accomplished grin filled his face. “We’re done actually. The comm-tower’s fixed.”

I wanted to smile back, to show my appreciation for his hard work, but it all became too hard to fake anymore.

This was it, the beginning of my goodbye to Poe. He would now be able to contact the Resistance, his friends, and he would soon be gone from my life just as suddenly as he arrived.

I forced the tears back as I hugged Vixur, doing all I could to hide my pain and show some kind of gratitude for the selfless work he had done.

Somehow Vixur sensed the turmoil simmering through me, patting my back softly. He pulled out of our embrace, speaking softly enough so Poe wouldn’t hear. “You needed this done for him, didn’t you?”

I nodded, the sadness hard to contain on my face. Vixur’s own expression was sympathetic as he squeezed my arm reassuringly. I didn’t need to explain anything, he just seemed to know.

“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find each other again.”

I drew in a long breath, furiously smothering the need to cry. I wanted to thank him more, for giving his time to me for little in return, but I couldn’t say the words out of fear the sudden sorrow would overwhelm me if I spoke out loud.

Vixur understood this, giving me a caring smile as he took his leave. “Well, we best be heading back to the village. I’ll see you sometime soon Alex. If I don’t, I wish you luck.”

And he was gone, the clinic door closing behind him, leaving me frozen in dread. A large part of me was reluctant to tell Poe the ‘good news’, but he’d waited long enough for his rescue from this planet.

I didn’t need to turn around to know he’d slinked out of the office to find me stuck where I stood, BB-8’s soft whirring following him.

“The comm-tower is ready, isn’t it?” Poe asked gently.

I forced myself to smile as I turned around, Poe’s expression not showing the relief I would have expected.

“Sure is,” I replied, the hint of quiver in my voice. “You can finally go home.”

I saw Poe’s lip tremble as he too attempted a smile, the disappointment in his eyes more indicative of his actual reaction to my answer.

Neither of us spoke for a long time, BB-8 looking back and forth quizzically, a few unsure beeps finally pierced in Poe’s direction. The sounds knocked us back into reality, as I moved to find the transmitter I’d stashed back into my tech station after determining its redundancy days ago.

The memories felt foreign, like they were from a different age. So little time had changed me so much, making me feel the most unstable and fragile I had felt in so long, on the verge of tipping into an overwhelming pain.

Poe had watched me in silence, unmoving. I eventually shifted the transmitter into his arms, an extremely aged, large box with an array of dusty buttons poking out of the rusted metal.

“It’s old, but it still works,” I insisted in a monotone, the emotion sucked from my voice. Poe only nodded, and gave me one last despairing glance as he turned away, carrying the machine into the study, BB-8 trailing behind him.

When the door closed, I couldn’t hold onto it any longer, the overpowering misery bursting free, its icy presence consuming me in a singular moment, the cold burn stinging as a few tears trickled down my cheeks.

What did I tell you?

The tears came faster at the sound of the voice, it’s condescension only making the suffering more excruciating.

No.

You’re wrong. I’m stronger than this.

I wiped away the errant tears defiantly, pulling myself together at the seams that had broken a few minutes ago, calming my breathing, trying to settle the trembling on inhale.

I’d made it through so much worse, pushed past crushing loneliness, fear and sadness, to make myself more resilient than I was behaving now. And I wasn’t going to let myself be caught in this vortex of emotion any longer.

I will not let this ruin me. 

~

Next Chapter

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[princeescaluswords]

Deranged Anons: "Scott has NO authority over the pack!!!!!!!!!"

Also them: "Scott is a tyrant ruling with an iron fist, forcing and manipulating others to kill on his behalf!!!!"

One of the problems I run into when coming across fandom racism is that there's just so much of it that it's easy to think about it as one homogeneous mass, a block of people so dedicated to making the story about white characters and only white characters that they hate characters of color in purposeful and visceral reaction. But it doesn’t work like that.  Most fandom racism is simply habit and inattentiveness, the product of growing up in a racist culture.

It's dangerous to think about it that way, especially for people like me. There's the tempting possibility to say "Well, I don’t do things like those assholes, therefore I'm not being racist!" (Sadly enough, this applies to other realms of cultural interaction, but I have to keep this post focused on topic at least a little bit.)

There’s nothing easier than to look at the deranged anons claiming that Scott had no authority over his pack at all, even though there is scene after scene where Scott decides on a course of action and others follow him.  Instead, they howl from the rooftops that the members of Scott’s pack were all equals and that there wasn’t the slightest indication that Stiles, Derek, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Kira, Malia, and Liam treated him as their alpha the way other packs treated their alphas. 

Yet, they will then turn around and accuse Scott of throwing Stiles out of the pack, ignoring the contradiction in those two beliefs.  They’ll accuse Scott of not defending Kira from Theo, of his bad leadership being a good reason for Liam to try to kill him, of neglecting Lydia’s safety, of robbing Derek of his proper place.  They demand that Scott be responsible for pack members’ physical and emotional health as well as their validity as moral actors.

It’s a personal, and very intense, peeve of mine when people, real or fictional, are given responsibility for others yet not given the commensurate authority to be able to fulfill that responsibility.  These individuals are held at fault if others get in trouble, yet they are constantly denied any power to influence the actions of those same people and they must never expect the reverse.  This imbalance happens to many characters but it is the most consistently and forcefully applied to minority or disadvantaged characters.  The viewing culture expects them to guide, to heal, to support, and even to die for others, but Heaven forfend that these characters ever expect the cooperation or respect of their charges.

It’s easy to see the influence of racism on this expectations in the deranged anons and Sterek and Steter extremists, but the pervasiveness throughout the fandom could be missed.  (And other fandoms as well.  Everything I’m talking about can be applied to many other cultural properties.  Just ask Bonnie Bennett or Maria Deluca.)  The idea of minorities having one-sided responsibility without commensurate authority constantly appears in meta, in fiction, in simple interaction.

We see it in the constant rejection of Alan Deaton, who is treated with suspicion and derision because after supplying the characters of Teen Wolf with advice, medical treatment, and mystical rituals -- after enduring supernatural dangers and traveling across the world to do so -- he had the nerve to determine the boundaries of his own involvement.

We see it in the perception that when Derek Hale manipulates, threatens, beats, and betrays Scott, he did it for Scott’s own good and Scott refusing Derek’s authority is nothing but stubbornness.   When Derek manipulates, misleads, and abandons his own betas, it’s within his authority as alpha and something that leaders have to do sometimes.   When he punishes Erica, Isaac, and Peter, it’s something that falls within the purview of leading a pack.  Yet Scott has been called a bad alpha because he didn’t figure out that Theo was sleeping in his truck.

We see it in the idea that Scott didn’t “believe” Stiles over Theo, when the truth is that nothing Stiles ever said to Scott contradicted what Theo told Scott.   To them, Scott is responsible and thus required to see to Stiles’s emotional needs and ferret out the truth that Stiles has concealed, but Stiles isn’t even required not to be cruel in return.   Except I thought they were equals!?!?!   Why doesn’t Stiles have the smallest responsibility to tell the goddamn truth?  

We see it with the horror of “Scott threw Stiles out of the pack!” when he did no such thing.   Stiles asked Scott what he should do to fix the situation and Scott told him to stop looking for Lydia and Malia and talk to his dad.   Scott, to them, doesn’t even the authority to answer Stiles’s question of ‘what do you want me to do?’; he only has the responsibility to make Stiles feel better.  This is not reciprocal, for example, when Scott claims that he should have been the one to kill someone,  and Stiles tacitly agrees.  If that’s some version of equality, I don’t recognize it.

It’s obvious to the casual observer that fandom acts as if minority characters must never exert authority, even such authority as innocuous as setting the boundaries of their own involvement.  White male characters, on the other hand, are entitled to exert authority they don’t have, whether it’s something as harmless as Stiles badgering his father about his eating habits to something as violent as Derek stepping on Scott’s neck to get him to submit and shut up.  

Yet when it comes to responsibility, the roles are immediately and hypocritically reversed.  Derek betraying Scott to Peter is understandable and acceptable, but Scott deceiving Derek in front of Gerard in order to save the life of Derek and his pack, with claws at Allison’s throat, is tantamount to the grossest violation.  When Stiles fails to have any faith in Scott because of his interior struggles, it’s a cause for sadness, but when Scott doesn’t immediately sacrifice every single principle he’s developed because Stiles betrayed him, it’s tantamount to sacrilege.

Luckily, the production’s canon did indeed indicate that though Scott has the desire and the ability to care about and help other, his taking responsibility for that gives him the authority to influence the outcomes of situations.  You don’t have to look any farther than Season 2′s episode Raving, with this exchange.

Deaton: That depends. Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him? 

Derek and Scott at the same time: Kill him. Save him. 

Scott, insistently: Save him. 

Scott turns to Deaton: Save him. 

(One could argue that Season 2 was all about Scott learning that if he wanted to save other people, he would have to get involved, to make decisions, to risk relationships and to exert authority.) Weirdly enough, fandom tends to make fun of Derek for this scene or deride Scott’s position as useless.

And the production didn’t stop.   While I may despise the way they resolved things in 5B (and I do!) the show made it clear that it was Scott’s responsibility to reassemble the pack but they also made it clear that Stiles, Liam, and Malia were worried more about what Scott thought of them then anyone else.  He is the alpha, and that means he has both responsibility and authority; fandom constantly forgets that for some reason.

BUT IT’S NOT RACISM.