#thinking about how callum gets constant second chances to try things over and over again as a prince

[raayllum]

I know it’s a longer one, but I vote for Rayla’s Position In The Narrative as a Dual Antagonist!

*cracks knuckles with shania twain music* let's go girls

So I've talked about this very briefly before in the context of a much larger meta about something completely different, but 'Rayla is the only character who enters the show as an Antagonist for both the humans and the elves. She is the first character to be caught in the middle, opposing everything the human characters are currently all trying to save (King Harrow’s life), and also ruining whatever chance her mission has of success, angering and endangering her fellow assassins. Much of season one, then, is pushing her into a more positive role for the humans, and much of season three examines whether or not she is right to oppose the elves — and how to reverse it if she can. This is part of why she wrestles so intensely with the ‘failure’ of both her own mission and her parents’

After all, neither Viren nor Claudia are an antagonist in any way until 1x03. Soren doesn't arguably become an antagonist at all until S2. Part of this is because Soren and Claudia, while they face set backs in what they were trying to do (protect the royal family; keep the egg on their side), they don't 100% shit the bed, so to speak. Claudia would've had the upper hand if Callum hadn't blind sided her and even then they struggled to get rid of her smoke wolves and she got out of the chain herself. Soren did successfully protect Callum and reeled from the loss of Harrow, but was still confident in his ability to find the princes when he thought that was the mission Viren was giving him.

Which is to say: Soren and Claudia don't go looking for redemption until much, much later, if at all; Soren only reaches that precipice 2.5 seasons later in 3x05 and then finds in full in 3x09. And even when they are opposing the heroes, they are not opposing their father; they are still aligned with a certain side. Likewise, even though Callum and Ezran are working against some humans, they have confidence that they are making their mother proud with the mission they have taken up and are later reaffirmed in their choices by Harrow.

Rayla doesn’t have any of this reaffirmation. Even Ethari, with their brief reconciliation in S3, doesn’t offer her much, if any, hope or comfort beyond their initial hug. 

Rayla enters the show, has one scene, and immediately shoots herself in the foot, because she fails at the one uttermost thing she was absolutely supposed to do on a mission we have every indication she begged/fought to be on within an inch of her life, and she chokes at the finish line.

R: I am pretty awesome at everything... right up until the moment when it really matters. I dunno. I hesitate. I think too much. Get confused about the right thing to do. Then the next thing I know, I've failed.

Then, to make matters worse, she covers up her failure and lies about it until it’s forced out by circumstance. Then, even after being removed from the mission, she resolves to make up for her mistake and heads to the castle in secret... and then defies and fights her mission leader. Thus, Rayla is squarely an antagonist for the first two episodes and it is only because we see her spare a human / struggle (both things our favourite princes are not privy to) that we root for her and trust her when she begins to turn in 1x03. 

And in fact, much of 1x03 revolves around narratively ‘rehabilitating’ her as she follows Ezran’s lead, answers the boys’ questions, defends them, stands against Runaan to protect them, and is cinched by her vow to Callum: “Say the word and I’ll go back in that tower with you.” Say the word and I’ll fight against the rest of my troupe / people for you. 

She goes from being both an antagonist to the humans and elves to switching right around and becoming an antagonist to her own people, the elves as well as her own family, with her and boys becoming their own side and their own team in many ways. Otherwise known as, in Rayla’s words:

But even once she’s switched sides, this double antagonism doesn’t just go away. Rayla is often directly opposed to whatever the boys want in S1-S2 - to go to the Banther Lodge, to take the boat, to take the easier path up the mountain, to trust Soren and Claudia at the Moon Nexus, to have Callum go out into the storm, or to try to save the dragon in forest. And in addition to this double antagonism, much of S1-S3 is Rayla’s reformation and redemption arc to both sides of the war, to both the humans she would have hurt and to the elves she left behind.

However, and this is where it gets somewhat tragic, is that it’s not like S1-S3 are smooth sailing for Rayla. She continues to consistently fuck up, often regardless of the support other characters’ offer in action or in word. 

Which is to say: Rayla is also the most antagonist to herself. She gets in her own way, she trips herself up, and all of that just compounds and reaffirms her belief that the problem is her. She can switch sides, run away, get people to back off, take or learn every possible maneuver, and disaster will still follow, because the disaster is her.  

Which is to also say: Rayla focuses so hard on redeeming herself to other people, to other causes, to other nations, she forgets that redemption is also supposed to be for herself, let alone that in so many cases she has nothing to forgive herself for. Not all, as we see in TTM and S4 and the way she blows her own life to pieces and Callum is caught in the crossfire most of all, but much of it. Even in the way she comes back into season four, knowing that she fucked up in some capacity, and that now she has to make up for it. 

In many ways that what makes S4 so complicated for her, as Rayla is simultaneously at her best and her worst. On the one hand, she’s come home to try and let go (as far as we know). On the other hand, she still can’t let go, and she’s lost what made her Rayla in so many ways in her time away. Which just makes me think of this quote from a recent podcast interview with Head writer Devon Giehl and writer Iain Hendry on the show (reflecting on Rayla in 4x08 rather than 4x04, mind you):

 You see her through seasons one through three like — just seems like any opportunity, she’ll be the one to make the big sacrifice. She’ll go out there to try and save the dragon, she’ll go and try and fight Viren and his army alone to protect everyone and so on. So the fact that once again she defaults to ‘I have to give up something painful to myself.’ [...] But I think you don’t do the — usually, you don’t do the greater whole any good by completely sacrificing yourself, and I do think that is often the lengths, like you said, a lot of the Moonshadow elf culture norms and mantras go to eventually is ���You have to be willing to completely forget who you are’.

So now it seems, perhaps, that her heart is finally hard enough to do whatever it takes. 

Or is it?

Rayla reminds Callum that destiny is a book he has written himself. That the pen and paper is in his hands. That the Narrative is his to control. And I think it’s particularly purposeful that Rayla says this in response to Callum pigeon-holing them both into the roles they initially started out in. Callum, feeling powerless and out of control as a ‘regular’ human or as a dark mage, submitting to the terror of doing horrible things. Rayla, being asked to be a proper assassin, and kill the accidental snag in her plans, her mistaken target, for another’s sins. He’s asking her to be his antagonist again, if he’s forced to be hers. 

And, of course, this extends even further into the season finale, in which Rayla does the last thing the world that Callum wants, running after Viren again, highlighting what’s changed about their dynamic and what hasn’t, the ways they’ve grown to understand and accept each other, and the fundamental misunderstandings and clashes they’re still having. If you want to read more about this exchange and interplay of foils I’d recommend reading this meta here :)

Last but not least, I’d like to close this meta off by saying that there is one character who shares this dual antagonism from the start, and that’s Aaravos. He ‘helps’ people while really making them indebted or flat out pawns in his game. He offers gifts that leave the mages who take them dead shortly thereafter. 

He opposes the elves and dragons, yes, but has no love for humanity left in his heart. He opposes and orchestrates the downfall of each effort of peace. He will use humans and discard/destroy elves and dragons alike with little recourse. He doesn’t care about anyone, and Rayla (used to at least, and still does, deep down) care about everyone. 

And just one of the many ways they parallel each other across the seasons, but particularly in season four.

[see-arcane]

“Aw, the new episode disproved all our Extinction theories. Now what? :(((“

You make NEW THEORIES.

Pick up your heads, conspiracy kings, your red string is falling.

That being said, some points:

- How did the Extinction get in the party without being explicitly invited during the big I Open the Door speech in 160? Did Terminus have a +1 option for its kid? Did it not matter who/what Jon called over as long as he performed the act of summoning as an avatar marked by so many Fears? Speaking of!

- Jonah said Jon needed to be marked by ‘all 14 Fears.’ When the hell did Jon get marked by the Extinction? Was the act of trying so desperately to save the world multiple times enough to count? OR:

- Suppose it really was only 14 Fears who came through the Door. Okay. Then that would mean the Extinction was ‘born’ in the Changed world post-ritual. (Congrats by the way, Terminus, wish I’d been at the baby shower.) Meaning such a thing could potentially happen again. Because, honestly?

Do you really think Extinction was the only manmade Fear humanity was worried about?

- WHO ELSE REMEMBERS THE LINE ABOUT ANGUS STACEY DYING WHILE TRYING TO REVISE SMIRKE’S LIST OF FOURTEEN FEARS FROM THE EMMA AND GERTRUDE EPISODE?

- Do the Fears have a baby name book? If not, here’s some suggestions:

The Slaughter births the Tyrant: Fear of dictatorship, a dread of no one having fought back when they had the chance, so now the stranglehold of the Ruler and their Soldiers own and bludgeon every second of living.

The Corruption births the Pharmacist: Fear of both desperately needing The Cure and falling just short of being able to pay for it, or, almost as worse; Fear of a perpetual cycle of sacrifice in order to just barely afford The Cure…which never cures permanently, of course. Why create a medicine that nixes an ailment forever when there’s such profit to make in letting the sick scramble to pay for a lifetime of pills and needles?

The Lonely births the Populace (alias the Mob): Fear that someday, there will just be too many damn people in the world and everyone will devolve into gluttonous brutality when resources run short. Hint. Hint.

The Buried births the Vista: Fear that you will never enjoy the things or services you provide for others, often represented as a never-resting crew of nametagged or hard-hatted laborers being whipped into constant servile motion, tearing up and perfecting landscapes, gentrification, bowing and nodding when the People-to-Be-Served spit and beat them, the victims’ feet and hands gone bloody and bone-baring with perpetual toil.

The Stranger births the Factory: Fear that there is neither time nor need for an identity at all. Not in this economy, not on this schedule. You are a cog. You have a Station in the Factory, and you are lucky to have that much. Aren’t you, Valued Employee #276?

The Flesh births the Flaw: Fear that you will lose what you have. Fear of amputation, of disfigurement, of scars, of deformation, of any wound that does not have the decency to kill you, but only leaves you an unfinished jigsaw puzzle of anatomy, there to be politely turned away from whenever you hobble down the street.

The Desolation births the Consumption: Fear that all you have made and done for yourself will be stolen. Not destroyed, but ripped away from you outright, stamped and caged and branded as something else’s creation. A Fear that can extend even to you, with just a signature and a handshake like a shackle, you can be eaten and hoarded and made a possession of something so much More than you ever could be or could hope to fight if it wanted something of you.

The Dark births the Vice: Fear what is done in the Dark. Probably an evolved version of the little kids’ infant dread. Fear not just of the monsters in the gloom, but of each other. Of being betrayed (ala Callum) by a friend, tripped up so that the monsters will prey upon them as the traitor gets away. But no one can see each other—everyone is anonymous, both blameless and villains. Better trip them up first, better safe than sorry, no one will know they did it anyway…

The Vast births the Edge: Fear of humanity reaching the limits of space and knowledge and discovering that what is waiting for us is something horrible. A wretched, crushing Truth of finiteness. We have found every answer and crevice of the universe and they are horrifying.

The Web births the Entropy: Fear that everything is chaos, that no amount of planning or preparation will save us. We are as helpless as the dinosaurs were against the K-T Event.

The Spiral births the Cipher: Fear that you are a flat, static nonentity. A machine mistakenly born as a human being, chewing your daily cud, thinking beige thoughts in your tiny beige room, staring at the TV screen that plays shows you don’t even remember turning on, melting into the carpet nap, the plaster, the amoeba-like maw of the couch. You make nothing. You do nothing. You are nothing. Madness would at least be some sign that you are more than a pointless, static un-person. But you aren’t mad. You’re just here to breathe and eat and sleep and void your bowels and stare at screens.

The Hunt births the Huntsman: Fear of chasing a quarry you desperately need and never, ever catching it. Less the mighty Wolf and more the starving dog, frantically loping after a bone with a nibble’s worth of meat on it. The bone is held in the hand of a guffawing human hanging out the window of his car, hitting the gas every time your feeble jaws comes close to the bone.

The Eye births…well. I honestly can’t see the Eye needing to sprout anything from itself. It’s just there to be the Axle the Fears revolve around. The Watcher is a happily childless spinster Fear in my mind, at least for now.

[ballumsecretvalentine]

Reunion Queen

Happy Valentines Day @basketcase1880 💖

Description: The Ballum Reunion episode missing scenes as told by 3 queen songs.

Fic length: 2000ish words

-1-

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me

You’ve broken my heart, and now you leave me

Love of my life, can’t you see?

Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me

Because you don’t know what it means to me.”

Callum sat at the bar in the pub, the hum of lunchtime drinkers swirled around him. Some market boys were laughing in one corner, and the jukebox hummed away behind him. But all he could hear in this head repeating static in time with his racing heart.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

Ben’s last words to him, ever.

Mick walked past and placed a shot of something that look suspiciously like whisky next to his untouched pint and moved on without saying a word.

The landlord had tried to engage him when he had first staggered in, not knowing where else to go after, all but running from the Mitchell house, and Ben’s rejection. But something in his face, the slump of his shoulders had stopped his surrogate father in his tracks, and the conversion had died as quickly as Callums hope, that maybe Ben loved him, had.

Callum had poured everything into that message he sent this morning, everything he felt, everything he would do, how no matter what Ben said that night he still loved him. And how he was desperately sorry for walking out.

He’d been careful of course, he knew the police might check Ben’s phone at some point, and he wasn’t going to say anything incriminating, he would never do anything to put the man he loved at risk but he had been as explicit as he could be. He’d spent all night on it, writing and rewriting, trying to find the words…

And Ben…Ben hadn’t even read it. It hurt so much.

The only flicker of hope left in his broken heart that Ben did care at all, was just how Ben had sounded so broken begging Callum to leave, and the way he had to physical lean out of Callums touch when he had reached for him. When his hands has moved automatically to cradle his face like he had so many times before.

Ben Ben Ben. He wanted to cry his name out loud. Why didn’t he care, why didn’t he love Callum back the way Callum loved him.

Their short time together had meant everything to Callum, he had faced his biggest fear of coming out just for the chance to be with him, and now he was gone, and Callum was alone, out and alone, again. What had it all been for?

It just wasn’t fair. Even over Christmas while he had been a way he held hope, and after he came back he knew knew Ben cared, but what hope could he have if Ben wouldn’t stay.

Callum threw back the whiskey shot and swallowed it hard, forcing the liquid down his already burning throat to try and hold back his tears.

As he took a breath in, the full taste assaulted him and he almost vomited it back straight on to the bar.

He was so used to the taste of whiskey coming via Ben’s lips when they kissed the taste memory burned him like a flame.

Spinning away from the bar he strode to the doors without a look back even as he heard Mick call his name.

He couldn’t hold back the tears for much longer and he needed to be somewhere more private for this breakdown.

Head down, shoving his shaking hands in his pockets he pushed out into the market. He didn’t have any answers for himself only more questions, and the whine of his soul begging Ben to come back to him, as if he could hear it somehow.

-2-

“The Show must go on!

Inside my heart is breaking,

My make-up may be flaking,

But my smile, still, stays on!

Whatever happens, I’ll leave it all to chance.

Another heartache - another failed romance.

On and on!

Does anybody know what we are living for?”

Ben could barely breath as he placed bag after bag into the back of the car.

Reach, pick up, drop. Repeat.

He couldn’t even think about what he was doing, he couldn’t think about what it meant.

How every movement took him away from the ones he loves. Took him away from his gorgeous daughter, who had hugged him so hard he could still feel her tiny hands grip onto him.

Took him away from Callum who had come back to him this morning. God damn him he might have left the other night, but he had come back.

Ben said he didn’t read the text and he didn’t, but he had seen the first few words, it started with "I’m sorry for not..” and he knew he couldn’t read anymore.

“You can’t run Ben.” Again and again Callums voice called to him, just as his body had called Ben’s when he reached for him early. Ben hadn’t had to fight every muscle in his body to lean away rather than lean forward into Callums touch, and it had broken him.

Callum took it as a rejection, if course he did. It was. But that didn’t make it any easier.

Ben’s world was crumbling and he didn’t know what to do.

Bend, pick up, drop. Repeat until all the bags were in, and finally it was his turn.

Step by step he followed Lisa and Louise into the car. Acting on autopilot.

His not sure how the wallet ends up in his hands but he had found himself just holding it more often than he wants to admit, almost as if just touching the leather that he knew Callum had picked for him, got embroidered for him, picked a special picture for him, would bring him closer to him.

He couldn’t even bring himself to smile at the picture if Lexi, her brilliant smile beaming at him, how… How can he do this?

His hands start to shake, when out of the corner of his eye he sees Callum exiting the pub, and his heart breaks into two.

It’s done it before he knows what it feels like. Losing Paul broke him the first time, and now losing Callum and Lexi will break him again if he lets it.

His long abused heart can’t do this again, there’s only so many times he can patch it up. He can’t live like that.

“S…stop the car.”

-3-

“This thing called love I just can’t handle it

This thing called love I must get round to it

I aint ready

Crazy little thing called love!”

It was evening by the time they got a second to themselves.

From the moment they had crashed into Lola and Lexi in the market, the world still spinning, they hadn’t been allowed out of their sight.

Callum didn’t mind, not truly, Lexi had been so pleased to see her dad again, and Lola just looked like she had been ready to tie Ben to the nearest object to stop him from going again if he even looked towards the door.

Callum understood the impulse.

They had gone back to Lola’s and Jays had dinner, and talked casually in front of Lexi, a show of normality and calmness that none of them really felt. But even in the falseness of some of it Callum still felt more at home and more relaxed than he had since Christmas.

There was the added bonus that Ben hadn’t let go of him once since that bruising kiss in the market. His hand tangled their fingers together, his foot had stroked his ankle under the table, his arm laid on callums thigh when they had relaxed on the sofa. The almost constant contact was something they both needed.

But now they walked in silence through the streets leaving shortly after Lexi had gone to bed. So much needing to be said between them, but neither was in any hurry to approach it.

Callum squeezed Ben’s hand in his and felt Ben squeeze back. They were together and right now that was enough.

-

Ben collapsed onto Callums sofa the moment they were through the door with a heavy sigh.

He had missed being here, and when Callum had headed this way after leaving Lola’s Ben had been secretly relieved.

He had no desire to go to an empty home and face reality right now, he just wanted to feel this ridiculous bubbly feeling he got whenever he was with Callum.

Callum dropped by the kitchen before joining him on the sofa with a couple of beers.

His arm rested on the back of the sofa, and Ben glared at the space between them, he moved slowly giving Callum plenty of time to stop him and sunk against the man.

He let out a deep breath when Callums arm dropped around his shoulder and pulled him in either tighter.

The action brought tears of relief to Ben’s eyes, but he still has to check. “Is this okay,” he whispered against Callums chest. *Are we okay,“ he was really asking and he needed to hear the answer.

Callum sounded like he huffed away a laugh before he squeezed Ben’s shoulder.

“Are you crazy, I thought I was going to lose you, and now you’re here. It’s.. it’s everything.”

His voice broke a little and Ben had to bite his lip to keep his own emotions from spilling across the floor like a tree dropping it’s leaves in autumn.

“I couldn’t.. couldn’t go,” Ben admitted “I…I…need you.”

Those weren’t the words on his tongue, he wanted to say something else but it got stuck in his throat and Ben just couldn’t find them. He might know what the words should have been but he couldn’t voice them.

Callums head rested on top of his, his chest deflating under Ben just enough then Ben knew he had hoped for those lost words too.

“I…need you too.” Callum promised and for a second Ben had wondered if he was going to use the words Ben couldn’t, and taunt him with them. But of course not, this was Calum, his man made of sunshine, he would never be cruel. Ben caught the ridiculous smile crossing his face.

As Ben struggled closer he caught a smell of Callums aftershave and it made his stomach flip. It was his favourite, and he couldn’t help wonder if Callum had put it on for him this morning.

He ran his hand across Callums stomach, a new way to prove those unspoken words stoked fresh in him. Holding his breath his fingers on Callums buttons, waiting to see how the other man would react.

Callum just kisses the top of his head gently, and interlocks there hands again.

“We have time,” he whispers and Ben sighs a little in sadness and a lot in relief his tired, so tired, and as much as he would have bent himself over backwards, literally if needed, if Callum had responded more physically, he was also content to just rest for now. Rest in his man’s arms, safe and secure and loved.

Sometime later Callum’s arm disappears from his shoulder only to return a second later pulling the purple blanket from the back of the sofa over them both.

“Stay?” Callum asked a hint of concern in his voice as Ben shuffled at his movement.

“Yes” Ben promised no hesitation now, and not just talking about tonight. “For you, For us”

He was certain he could feel Callums smile radiating through their bodies, as he added “For love.” silently in his head.

[rosalind-of-arden]

Sword and Pen Spoilers: Gleeful Squealing Edition

There is a lot to scream about in this book, so I am breaking it down by category. This is the post of happy things. Spoilers beyond the link: beware!

So, first and foremost, the scene in which Khalila becomes archivist is worth the cost of the book all on its own. It is in Wolfe POV, which automatically makes everything better as far as I am concerned. It includes the new Curia trying to give Wolfe the job first, to his great irritation. These are the same people who did nothing when he was taken to Rome and his work was erased, and he’s fully aware that part of the reason they’re in favor of him getting the job is that he’s not likely to survive long with the Library under attack. And he gets to call them on that shit. And when they insist? He fucking accepts, then turns around and announces his immediate retirement, nominating Khalila to take his place. “If you want to fight an old man who wants to drag the Great Library into the past, appoint a young woman who looks to the future.” Loads of affirmation for Khalila follows. And then we get to see her step into the role brilliantly. “That was not the voice of his student. It was the voice of his queen.”

Speaking of Khalila awesomeness, we also get some truly excellent Khalila/Dario moments. There is a very sweet bit of hurt/comfort after Dario returns from his spy mission, including cuddles, affirmation of feelings, and further marriage planning. And then, later, after Khalila becomes Archivist, we have Dario getting all overprotective, Khalila shutting that the fuck down, and the two of them negotiating how their public and private roles can interact. And then Dario gets to be a big damn hero.

Also a big damn hero? Thomas. Accomplishments include putting a giant fucking Ray of Apollo on the Lighthouse, raising a giant automaton Poseidon to defend the harbor, getting that second dragon up and running, getting past the tests in the Tomb of Heron to retrieve technology and an antidote that saves Jess, and convincing Khalila to open a printing division in the Library, complete with new Curia position. I am particularly happy that the last ones are peaceful, showing that he’ll be able to transition away from building weapons as things settle down.

But our first big promotion goes to Santi, who is appointed as Lord Commander of the High Garda, which surprises absolutely none of us, I’m sure. And he is awesome at it. He runs both a successful military defense campaign and a few covert operations. In connection with one of those covert operations, there is a bit of Santi-Dario interaction that I suspect Maz will mine for Santi/Dario potential, and that is going to be lovely. There is a Santi in case of death letter in this book, with the expected amount of Wolfe/Santi sweetness. Even more squeal-worthy, though, is his adoptive dad moment with Jess. Santi hugs Jess, calls him his son, and says he loves him, and I am never going to be over it.

Again, Santi fucking hugs Jess and calls him his son, people. Jess is very officially adopted by the dads. AND he gets a reconciliation with his mother, so lots of family for Jess now.

Wolfe gets good dad moments as well. From comforting Jess in the beginning, to protecting him while he’s sick, to handing Callum Brightwell his ass in the end, we see Wolfe fully embracing his dad role. He gets nice dad moments with the others as well: promoting Khalila, telling Glain how valuable she is, worrying about Thomas, mourning Morgan. That final confrontation with Callum is just amazing. Callum starts his abusive dad shit and first Jess, then Jess’s mother, then Wolfe all tell Callum to go fuck himself. And Wolfe then acknowledges how much it had to take for Celia to finally stand up to Callum.

On a much smaller scale, it is officially canon that Wolfe and Santi play chess on a regular basis. It’s mentioned immediately after sex and reading together in bed when Wolfe is thinking of things he misses doing with Santi in more peaceful times. I think you all know why I’m happy about that.

Also: Santi has gotten his protectiveness of Wolfe under control. At one point, he thinks of sending Wolfe a worried message and decides against it, knowing Wolfe won’t like it. At another point, Wolfe responds to Jess’s worry that Santi will be mad about him running off into danger by saying “he’s quite used to me doing as I please, thank you.” I get the feeling there has been an off-page conversation on this topic.

We also get confirmation that Wolfe has limited Obscurist-sense. He can tell when Morgan is trying to draw on his power. He can tell when Morgan is killing herself by overusing her power. And, in the end, Ascended Morgan informs him that he has a lot of power, but cannot use it because “something went slightly wrong in your body, but only just slightly.” She offers to fix this and give him access to his power. He doesn’t want that much more than he wants to be Archivist. Wolfe, in this book, has accepted himself as he is and not what he might have wanted to be in the past.

And then there is Dario. We get Dario POV, and that alone is amazing. Another chapter well worth the cost of the book all on its own. It is a glorious chapter of Dario showing that he really can be a successful schemer, and also a bucket of Dario angst. We get so many delicious little Dario details. He has excellent handwriting and knows a very obscure code. He likes his room in the Lighthouse. He has a spare Codex purchased just for sneaky-sneaky purposes. He somehow managed to read Wolfe and Santi’s journals during Ink and Bone, and found out interesting but unspecified things in the process. I really, really want to see that last point explored in fic.

Anyone who likes Jess whump will be pleased to learn that this is the big book of Jess whump. On top of the grief over Brendan, he spends most of the book poisoned and trying unsuccessfully to push through it. This gives us some very sweet moments of others taking care of him, especially Thomas, Anit, Wolfe, and Glain. Yes, that’s right, we get some excellent Jess-Glain bonding. And Jess and Anit declaring themselves siblings.

There is, in fact, just so much friendship and found family in this book. Everyone moved past the awkward “I don’t really like you” stage, and we see them all openly admitting to caring about each other. There are declarations of brotherhood/sisterhood/parenthood/friendship all over the place. There are hugs. There are non-romantic kisses. Glain is involved in both, and does not respond violently.

Speaking of Glain, guess who else gets a promotion? She’s up to lieutenant now, and as Wolfe points out to Jess, she’s on track to rise even higher. Her chapter this time is longer than last time, and showcases both her leadership and her combat skill. I am still squealing about how affectionate she and Jess are with each other, though. And it is in no way treated as a potential ship. It’s pure adopted sibling love.

And then there’s Morgan. This is not the post for crying over her death. This is the post for squealing over how fucking awesome she is before it. She develops her power to even greater heights. Eskander is trying to prepare her for the Obscurist Magnus job, and when he’s injured, she basically steps in to fill it, just without an official promotion. Even her death, sad as it is, is totally badass. She single-handedly prevents the Archives from burning. And she ascends to become something like a guardian spirit of the Library. After her death, she still looks out for the others. We see her communicate with Wolfe and offer to give him his Obscurist power, though he refuses.

This book also handles Jess’s grief very well. He is devastated by losing Brendan, and we see constant evidence of how it impacts him. There’s a lot going on, but he can’t forget his brother. It even leads to him breaking up with Morgan. He’s just not capable of managing feelings for her along with grief, and precious child that he is, he interprets this emotional confusion as evidence that they don’t really love each other and would never be able to work as a couple. That breakup hurts, but it fits where his character is at that moment, and because of her death, he never gets the chance to reconsider. And he grieves that loss as well.

That’s all I can think of for the moment. I’m sure there is more I will remember as I reread.

[sonxfcupid]

Sweet dreams are made of this

Callum and Z meet each other in the infirmary but Callum’s fatigue leads them somewhere else.

Callum had been sitting in the Infirmary’s waiting room for a while, just incase something happened to go wrong with someone in his Cohort. The constant noise around him seemed to be on repeat, causing his eyes to grow heavy. He found himself fighting a constant battle, struggling to stay awake. With a sigh, he shook his head and stood up. He decided to go for a walk, to get his blood circulating and to wake him up so that if there was an emergency, he was there and ready to help. His walk lead him down the corridor and as he turned a random corner, he bumped into someone at full speed. He instinctively grabbed onto them, stopping them from falling over. “Shit sorry.” He said, almost with a gasp.

It hadn’t occurred to Z that anyone would be rushing through the infirmary. It had been ample time since the initial crisis, which had overall reduced the sense of urgency of those inside. The past few hours, in fact, had been calm enough that the psychologist was able to sit down and eat something. He’d chosen a salad, sans any sort of dressing. It was understandable that he’d rather not smell of vinegar while helping any other patients he may have had for the day, which went along smoothly. It was around the time for his second break that he decided dining out would be for the best. He certainly needed a change of air.

He should’ve been more careful when he went to retrieve his bag from the nurse’s station. If he had, he wouldn’t have gracelessly rammed his face directly into a solid wall of muscle. Instead, he might’ve been able to hear the footfalls as they approached. As it stood, he found himself gazing up at a familiar face. “And here I thought you’d French dip me,” he said easily, raised eyebrows and soft smile betraying the tease that left his lips. “Not that I’m complaining, but I do believe I can stand, Callum.”

In a daze, Callum didn’t recognize the other at first, but as he began to speak, it centered him, and he realized that the voice belonged to the man who he had kissed at the festival. A weak smile spread across his face. “No, je pourrais francais t'embrasser bien que.” He teased, not knowing whether the other could understand him or not. Quite frankly, the French was just Callum slipping into a more natural language as he lost concentration.

“Sorry.” He removed his hands from the other and slid them into his pockets. “I’m glad you’re okay. You did a pretty good job with Hannibal.” Although Callum seemed to be all over the place during the fire, he had taken in everything that was happening around him. Z riding an elephant was one of them.

Z had a rudimentary understanding of classical Latin from his years of behavioral science and neuroscience, but the root words were ones that he had committed to memory. Though, he committed everything to memory. It was a perk, and drawback, to being well-versed in Mnemokinesis. It would be a hassle to try and forget anything he experienced. He tilted his head at the tease uttered to him, blinking wide eyes as he tried translating based entirely on the root words. Kiss? It was the only thing that made any sort of sense.

When he was released, Z’s smile grew a bit wider and much more genuine. “It’s one of my many talents,” he said, waving off the idea of him being okay. He hadn’t slept, which was never good for someone like him. He could feel his powers growing a bit of acidity to them already. In a few hours, he’d have to watch out for causing people ungodly levels of insomnia. “How are you feeling? I saw you rush into that burning building. You didn’t suffer any lasting lung damage, did you?”

‘How are you feeling?’ , a question that people kept asking him. Yes, he had run into a burning building, and yes, he had been treated with oxygen when finally arriving at the infirmary. But he felt that the question was an absurd one for him to be asked. There were demi-gods that had it way worse than he did. “I’m grand.” He lied. He was exhausted and his recent night terrors prevented him from getting any decent sleep. He also had a mild burn on his right hand that he was ignoring.

“The only lung damage I have is from you. You keep taking my breath away.” He said, his classic smirk making an appearance on his face. Callum, remembering their time at the kissing booth, realized that he had run off on Z and hadn’t seen him since. “Sorry about running off. Centurion duties you know?”

It was believable enough. If Z had slept any, he may have approached the reply with his usual level of skepticism, but he’d spent the day before the festival-wide awake and also the day before. An ongoing four-day avoidance of sleep could turn anyone into an optimist, it seemed. “Wonderful. I worried about you and the others,” he shared. It was another thing he wouldn’t have done if he had slept. The psychologist rarely gave away how he was feeling about them when it came to personal matters. He preferred to reserve the open concern only for his clients.

The flirt had shocked him a bit, head reeling around the purity of the phrasing. “Hm...as a doctor, maybe I should refrain from kissing you anymore, then. I would hate to steal any more breath from you than I do just by showing you my pretty face,” he fired back, playfully tapping Callum’s chest. Wow; Maia wasn’t kidding about them earning their muscles. “You don’t have to apologize for doing your job. I understand; and, I had the chance to watch you work in person. I must say...you’re much stronger than I thought.”

Callum’s legs had begun to ache again, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand much longer. The fact that he felt so weak had begun to irritate him, and along with Z’s banterful response, he had started to become cranky. His smile began to waver and his eyes dropped to the ground at the mention of his ‘work’. Although he had helped to save people from the fire, and he hadn’t injured himself, it was still a traumatic experience for him.

“I did okay.” He mumbled. He was angry at himself for not being able to do more, so help more. He was angry at himself because his powers were useless in situations like the fire. He had watched Percy put out a massive portion of the fire and break through a wall to save a kid. He sighed as he lifted a hand to rub his palm against one of his eyes. He was too tired to now control his powers and he felt them coming onto him, like a wave, stimulating every emotion from within side. And at that point, in a swift move, he pulled Z into a hug and rested his head on the man's shoulder.

Callum was beginning to lose it and it hadn’t occurred to Z that it was going to be a matter of physical proportions until he noticed that the taller man had swayed on his feet. Before he could ask what was wrong, his body was wrapped in the other man’s arms and he had to steady himself before they toppled to the ground. Under circumstances in which there were a cushion of some sort behind him, it wouldn’t have seemed like a terrible idea. In the hallway of the infirmary, however, sounded detrimental to his health.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said without thinking about the consequences. His hand lifted to rub circles into Callum’s back and his eyes began to glow a dull pink as he released an aura of calm that occurred just before slumber. It would help keep him together, he felt. “Do you live nearby? I think we should get you somewhere comfortable, love.”

Callum had to concentrate every day on controlling his emotions and on stopping himself from adopting the emotions of others around him. However, in his time of distress, he had no energy to put into his daily control. However, he began to feel a wave of calm fall over him, which acted as a tranquilizer, stopping his powers from stimulating his emotions. He listened to the other comfort him, and as much as he enjoyed the others touch on his back, he felt embarrassed for breaking down in front of the other. He broke away from the hug and crossed one arm across his chest, holding onto his other arm that was at his side.

“My room is in my Cohort barracks, it’s not too far.” But then again, nothing was ever too far away in Camp Jupiter. “Sorry, I — I …” He didn’t even know how to explain what had happened, and instead, trailed off, head tilted towards the floor.

It took a few moments, but Z could feel the tension pour out of Callum. He let out his own sigh of relief as he continued to rub at the male’s back until he finally pulled away. Z had never been one for physical affection, but if it helped another on their journey to recovery, he wouldn’t hesitate to move beyond his comforts. Though, if he were honest, being in Callum’s arms was not the worst thing in the world.

Z nodded to the answer provided. Not too far meant Z wouldn’t have to traverse to far from the infirmary, which in kind would mean he could find his way home easily. “It’s alright, love,” he practically whispered. He then took a step forward into Callum’s personal space and ran a hand down the taller man’s forearm until it reached his hand. His fingers curled around the other’s palm and he looked up at him, eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint. “This is the part where you take the pretty man to your home, Callum.”

When Z slide his hand down into his own, his heart skipped a beat and butterflies erupted into his stomach. He’d held hands with many people before, like Maia and Fergus, but something felt different about Z. Callum gently squeezed the other's hand, having eye contact with Z, and nodded. He considered arguing about how he shouldn’t take him there and that the barracks were filled with stressed out demi-gods, but instead, he decided to go with the flow. He led Z back to his room, his emotions still tranquilized, causing him to not say a word on the journey there. Soon, they arrived and Callum opened the door and invited Z to walk in first.

“It’s not amazing, but it’s home.” He said, looking around his room. For someone’s room, it wasn’t very personalized, with the only indication that it was Callum’s room is a picture of his mom on a dresser against the wall. Other than that, it may as well have been any guys room.

The hand that came to wrap itself around his own was warm and firm. Z could recount the amount of times a man held his hand and it only added up to around eight times; half of which were patients that had required some sort of physical intimacy. He didn’t thoroughly enjoy it, but he knew that others valued the small gesture a great deal more. It was why he clung to the feeling in the best way he could and followed after the man as they walked, keeping his thoughts pleasant to offer him reassurance that things were going to be okay.

When they arrived, Z stepped inside and took in a breath. It lacked the sentimentality that most people included in their personalized domains, but it smelled of him and that mattered. “It’s definitely better than the clinical feel of the infirmary, hm?” he offered, turning to look at Callum with another inviting smile on his face. “So, do you usually bring home sweet men or am I special?”

Callum managed a smile at the others jokes. The walk had woken him up a bit more, but fatigue was settling back in, and now that he was in his room, his bed screamed his name. “I don’t bring a lot of guys here no. Fergus has stayed over a couple of times, but you’re the first other than him.” He rubbed the back of his hand and walked over to his bed and took a seat. For about a split second he fought off the urge to fall back onto it, but soon the urge overtook his willpower and he flopped backward, bouncing a bit. He had managed to take a shower at the infirmary, but his pants were covered in dirt and soot, and the shirt he wore was not even his.

Callum wished that the other would lie next to him, and he was on the verge of asking him, but the fear of the other saying no kept his question at bay for a couple of seconds, and then it slipped, “I know that you might not want anything from me, but would you please mind lying with me? I -- I have night terrors and I think you might help, just having someone there, someone to hold onto.” He thought that if Z had come this far, that perhaps he would go a little further, and it wasn’t like he was asking Z to have sex with him, it was just a cuddle.

With Callum laying across his bed, the psychologist felt that it was around his time to leave. He had successfully walked the centurion to his place of comfort to rest and had done so with little opposition on the other, but he still needed to get ready for his next shift in the infirmary. Z would be working double-time until no help was needed anymore. “Oh! The cute Irish boy? He’s lovely,” he mentioned as he stretched his arms above his head. He was starting to ache all over from the exhaustion. It was really time for a nap.

Just as he was about to turn toward the door, Callum spoke again. Brown curls were raked through by a hand as Z reasoned within himself whether or not it was a good idea. On one hand, he was really only supposed to be out for a quick bite. The aforementioned nap wasn’t even in his personal requirements but he was going to squeeze one in any way. On the other, cuddling up to Callum was probably just as good as resting his head against Ursasaurus back in his flat. Without weighing the options any longer, Z climbed atop the bed and crawled over the resting man’s body until they were face to face. Slowly, he lowered himself down to plant a very soft, tentative kiss to Callum’s lips, before rolling over onto his side. “Just for a bit,” he warned, hazel eyes shining under his heavy lids.

Callum’s heart dropped as the other seemed to hesitate. But then, to his surprise, Z climbed over him and ended up face to face. He stared deeply into the other's hazel eyes before instinctively closing them when Z returned Callum’s previously stolen kiss. He body seemed to move with Z’s as the man rolled onto his side. Reaching for pillows, he propped one under Z’s head and then placed one between his own arm and head. His other arm stretched and wrapped around Z’s back, slightly pulling him closer and treating him as a teddy bear.

“Thank you.” He whispered, trying to keep his eyes open, but the pillow was so soft and comfortable that within seconds, he had drifted off to sleep next to the man that would surely one day break his heart.

[gyrlversion]

Southgate confirms Montenegro will be reported for racial abuse

England manager Gareth Southgate condemned the Montenegrin racists who subjected his black players to constant abuse during an emphatic victory and promised to report it to UEFA.

A night that should have belonged to the brilliance of Callum Hudson-Odoi and Raheem Sterling was wretchedly overshadowed. The pair starred in a comprehensive win with goals by Ross Barkley (2), Michael Keane, Harry Kane and Sterling, but from early on in the Euro 2020 qualifier, it was apparent that bigots had targeted the two wingers and left back Danny Rose.

Southgate said: ‘We’ll definitely deal with it in the right way. We’ve got to make sure we support our players.’

Montenegro fans and England’s Danny Rose during Euro 2020 qualifying match on Monday

England’s Callum Hudson-Odoi provided an assist during England’s 5-1 victory in Montenegro

Hudson-Odoi, fearless on his first England start, had a lighter thrown at him during the second half. Sterling pulled his ears in a defiant gesture to the crowd after he had scored the goal that completed the Group A rout.

Sterling later tweeted: ‘Best way to silence the haters (and yeah I mean racists)#2019 #getsomeeducation.’

The most vivid flashpoint came in injury time when Danny Rose was subjected to monkey chanting after he was booked for a foul when his frustrations boiled over. This is the second time he has been racially abused representing England, the first being in Serbia for the Under 21s in 2012.

Gareth Southgate confirmed England will report Montenegro for alleged racial abuse

Such was the venom from the Montenegro supporters who had remained in the stadium, one fan tried to climb barriers to get on the pitch but he was held back by a fellow supporter. It was clear how much it had upset England’s head coach.

Southgate said: ‘We had an excellent performance and we’ve got an 18-year-old (Hudson-Odoi) being interviewed after the game and he’s having to respond to what’s happened when his evening should be about the joy of his full debut.

‘I’m told there were things in the early part of the game as well, though I didn’t hear it then. I certainly heard it when Danny Rose was booked. It’s unacceptable.’

Southgate stated he heard racial abuse towards Danny Rose when the defender was booked

Hudson-Odoi spoke to beIN Sports about the experience and said: ‘I don’t think discrimination should be anywhere. We are equal. We have to play a fair game and enjoy the moment but when you’re hearing stuff like that from the fans it’s not right.

‘It’s unacceptable and hopefully UEFA will deal with it properly because when I went over there me and Rosey heard it; all the monkey stuff. We just have to keep our heads, keep a strong mentality and hopefully Rosey’s OK as well.’

If Southgate had total admiration for his players, the events left him visibly upset. He apologised at one point for not being able to find the right words to express himself when the reality was he provided a 15-minute press conference that was impeccable given the situation.

‘I’m sitting here trying to find the right balance of my disgust and recognising the differing views of the players in terms of their experiences of the past,’ he said. ‘My role is to support and protect my players, first and foremost. It was clear to everybody that there were comments made.

‘Reflecting on sanctions, sanctions are only of any use if they lead to education. Sanctions are worthless if there is nothing alongside that to help educate people.

‘My kids don’t think, for one minute, about where people are born, what language they speak, what colour they are.

‘There’s an innocence about young people that is only influenced by older people. So we have to make sure the education is right for everybody, in our country the same.

‘I’m not sitting here just criticising what’s happened tonight. We have the same issue in our country, we’re not free of it.

 Raheem Sterling responded to the taunts as he celebrated scoring England’s fifth goal

‘You can sanction clubs, but that won’t stop one or two people who are of a mind-set to do what they want to do. So we have to educate young people because we have a better chance with young people, and spread that as far and wide as we possibly can.’

Sterling was disgusted by what he had heard and he told BBC Radio Five Live: ‘It is a shame really because it was a massive team performance at a difficult ground, a difficult place to come.

‘We knew how difficult it would be, we knew it would be hard at times but we stuck together as a team. But then a couple of idiots ruin a great night.

‘It is a real sad thing to hear, I didn’t hear it personally but my team-mate Danny heard it and it is a sad thing to hear. It is a shame we are talking about this to be honest with you, it is 2019.

‘There should be a real punishment for this, not just for the few people being banned. It needs to be a collective thing. This stadium holds 15,000 and I think the punishment should be that as a nation, your fans are chanting racist abuse so I think it should be the whole stadium can’t watch it.’

Callum Hudson-Odoi described the alleged racial abuse as ‘unacceptable’

Former England striker Ian Wright, a pundit for ITV on Monday night, accused UEFA of not doing enough to combat racism.

Wright said: ‘They will probably go to UEFA and they’ll fine them a pittance (of an) amount as a deterrent. Nothing will happen and we will probably get the same thing here at some stage again or somewhere else in Europe because they don’t do enough to stop it.’

Sports Minister Mims Davies called for swift action from UEFA.

‘Rightly very proud of the England players tonight — a fantastic effort and cracking result — in face of absolutely unacceptable racist abuse,’ she tweeted. ‘UEFA must quickly investigate then take strong and swift action.’

Kick It Out tweeted: ‘As we’ve argued countless times, it’s time for @UEFA to take strong, decisive action — fines won’t do. Extended stadium bans or tournament expulsion are what’s needed.’

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