#who is still just someone desperate for some political advantage + to be taken seriously by the world

[vixonimus]

with every minute that passes my need to make a video essay in defense of 2003(?) budapest elisabeth grows. i see so much hatred for it sometimes and its SO SAD because its my second fave production

[briefobservationdreamer]

let's talk about stolas

While I wouldn't go quite so far as to say Stolas deliberately hurts people, and as a result I don’t hate the character in the same way I’d despise a reprehensible villain like Valentino, for example, I don’t think the things he did should be overlooked. Because these aren’t just small mistakes he’s made, and I think it's important to bring awareness to it.

Blitz:

Manipulated Blitz into having sex with him and initiated their “favours for favours” relationship. He made the proposition at a time when he knew Blitz was under duress and unable to give fully informed consent and explicitly made sex a condition for the grimoire during the conversation without leaving alternative options open. That wasn't just negotiating payment for sex work. That was using the grimoire as leverage to get the sexual favours he wants. To be clear, if Blitz refuses Stolas at any point, then Stolas could deny access to the grimoire and withdraw the desperately needed resource that I.M.P needs to keep their business running and get the income they rely on to get food on the table and a roof over their heads, along with other repercussions an imp could face for refusing a Goetian prince (one he is already in hot water with for attempted theft). Whether Stolas realised it or not, he took advantage of Blitz in a situation in which he had all of the power, physically, financially, socially and politically. This is sexual extortion, which - and I do not use this term lightly - is a form of rape. And this was a relationship that was ongoing and operating under these same exploitative conditional "I'll do this for you so that you do this for me" transactions for months.  

Persistently degraded Blitz multiple times with very demeaning sexual comments despite Blitz’s clear discomfort with it, making it completely rational for Blitz to think Stolas looks down on him for being an imp and only wants him for sex. Stolas might have thought this was a form of flirting and made an inconsistent effort to undo this after Ozzy’s, but the damage is done, and it would have been impossible for Blitz to tell if Stolas was being honest or just proving a point to make him look better, at least without some big gestures and a lot of repaired trust.

The comments he makes towards Blitz can also be racist, which is also indicated in the way he treats imp servants. This isn't directly about Blitz, but he treats his butler imps by thoughtlessly taking their service for granted, squeezing them like stress balls and making messes for them to clean up, which isn’t an ideal way to treat the race of someone you claim to love.  

Acts entitled and upset whenever Blitz didn’t personally come to save him, even when Blitz was preoccupied and still made sure Moxie and Millie would be there (and who never got any thanks for risking themselves to save his life).

Is clearly embarrassed when he was called out at Ozzy’s and does nothing to defend himself or Blitz.

He gave Blitz the Asmodean crystal to break their transactional relationship, but his lack of awareness still shows with how he handled it – opening with getting Blitz to put his entire livelihood in Stolas’ hands and making Blitz beg for it, then ending with casting Blitz out the moment his feelings were understandably not taken seriously and things didn’t go according to his script. I realise this was a difficult conversation that neither of them were really prepared for, but this was a situation entirely of Stolas’ making and within his power to prevent. For all his talk of setting Blitz free, he never really gave Blitz a chance to think for himself and actually make a choice.

Instead of listening to anything Blitz said about their relationship and addressing it, he blamed Blitz for the miscommunication and fallout without taking accountability himself and even attended a party dedicated to hating Blitz that was organised by someone Stolas knew was on bad personal terms with him (if he didn’t know before, he certainly did when Blitz reacted to the letter) out of petty spite.

This isn't a wrongdoing exactly, but other red flags I saw in their relationship are the fact that Stolas and Blitz don't actually seem to know each other all that well, as indicated by Blitz not knowing what Stolas likes to eat or Stolas not being aware of Blitz's well-known like of horses, along with other examples. Instead it is implied, and then made explicit in Apology Tour, that Stolas doesn't necessarily want Blitz, but rather wants his own romanticised idea of a relationship he picked up from watching rom coms and projected the image of his ideal partner onto Blitz. All in all, their relationship is extremely toxic and I think Stolas in particular has a lot of growth to do before he can be in a relationship.

Octavia:

Utterly obliterated any semblance of stable home life for his young daughter by having a very public and scandalous affair instead of talking honestly with Octavia about his relationship with Stella and getting a divorce, which we know was an option.

Instead of showing consideration for how the affair affected his daughter, feeling remorse for it and supporting her through the separation, he openly continues to have the affair even long after she made it clear to him how the situation was hurting her, makes very explicit sexual comments about his affair partner’s body in front of his underage daughter and ruins a father-daughter outing intended to cheer her up about their disastrous home life by inviting the affair partner along to fulfil a prince x bodyguard fantasy that neither Blitz nor Octavia wanted any part in.

Regularly argues with Stella about the affair and divorce in front of Octavia even after Octavia makes her discomfort clear, going as far as to call Stella a bitch in front of Octavia (which is in fact turning Octavia against Stella, contrary to Stolas' claims otherwise) and prioritising fighting with Stella over having another arranged outing with Octavia. When Octavia runs away alone and vulnerable to another world, Stolas blames Blitz when he should have been watching her and continues to waste time with Blitz when they go looking for her.

Used the grimoire in ways he knew to be illegal and could result in consequences that would harm Octavia and potentially prevent him from being present in her life if he and Blitz were caught. The whole trial was a mess of their own making. I understand Stolas wanted to save Blitz's life when Blitz didn't deserve to die for it, and Stolas didn’t have time to think about Octavia when he first showed up in the court room. However, he didn’t make any effort to get his affairs in order and make sure Octavia would be cared for when he thought he was going to be executed and put his head on the chopping block or while his punishment was still under discussion, despite knowing full well that Stella could take custody of her. He only thought about Octavia when Andrealphus brought up the legions he would be leaving behind, after Stolas had his powers stripped and it was already far too late to do anything about it. He did the one thing he promised her he wouldn’t do, and abandoned her for Blitz. Stella, Andrealphus, the system that arranged Stolas and Stella in the first place, and Octavia's awareness of those things are factors and separate points in the discussion, but none of those things mitigate the things Stolas himself has done to hurt her. She could let him explain, and probably should have, but really, what can he say at this point? That he had to sacrifice his life to protect his affair partner from the consequences of the illegal activity they were knowingly doing without saying a single word to her? All he can do to defend himself is give her the same excuses he's been giving her for months and tried to give her when she confronted him. Because there is no justification he can fall back on, no lie that Stella and Andrealphus need to tell her to make Stolas look bad, no misunderstanding that Octavia needs to "come around" to. Because she was right. He did abandon and betray her, and she has every right to harbour resentment towards him for it and take issue with his relationship with Blitz, and she shouldn't be expected to just deal with this and be satisfied with the bare minimum, be happy about stolitz's relationship or being part of a family with them and Loona.

Now, I’m not saying Stolas doesn’t deserve the chance to improve and do better. He cares about them, but he has a terrible habit of getting wrapped up in his own fantasies without seeing the reality of how his actions affect others, then trying to fix things with grandiose gestures that end up being hollow because they don't actually address the issue and aren't followed up with a correction of his toxic behaviour. Neglect, adultery, and sexual abuse are absolutely serious enough to end a relationship – as they should. Blitz and Octavia have all the reason they need to want nothing to do with him, and they’ve given him plenty of chances to change. The issues I've outlined here are the reasons why I just can't see Stolas' relationships with Blitz and Octavia as wholesome. Instead of being hated for lies to paint him as a misunderstood and tragic victim, Stolas needs to take the opportunity to reflect and change for the better. However, I can't blame anyone for being skeptical this will happen. The show yet has yet call Stolas out without putting the accusers in the wrong somehow to make Stolas look better. Blitz made the huge leap from "fuck you Stolas for using me and looking down on me, relationships are boring" to "you are my heart" in just three episodes and stops holding Stolas accountable without getting so much as an official apology from Stolas. I wouldn't be surprised if Octavia goes through a similar transformation at some point by the end.

[snapdragon-mina]

Enchanted Pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x GN!Reader

A/N: UHHHHH, here's my late entry for ✨the newest✨ POCuties Sever Collab Based on the movie version of Ella Enchanted

Warnings: No beta we die like men, a couple swear words here and there, mentions of death, attempted murder, and this is a Crack fic treated seriously. Part 2 will be out within a few hours of this.

Word Count: 2.8k

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

----------------❌----------------

It all starts with a baby. A beautiful baby named (y/n) was born into a comfortable family. This baby cried a lot, wanting to be held by their mother constantly. She took good care of her baby alongside kiyoko, a household fairy. Everything worked out beautifully until a particular fairy godmother appeared. As desperately as the mother and kiyoko tried, they could not hide the baby from Satori (the only fairy godfather who gave god awful gifts).

As much as Satori tried to quiet the baby's crying, it would not stop. This gave him the perfect idea for a gift. He gave the child the "gift" of obedience. (y/n) would not be able to disobey a command given to them no matter what. Kiyoko absolutely hated the gift that Satori gifted the baby and begged him to take it back but he refused.

Despite the gift they were given, (y/n) grew up to be strong willed and determined. Once they discovered a girl being bullied for something as stupid as a name, they quickly took to standing up for her. The girl introduced herself as Yachi and they became best friends very quickly.

When (y/n) discovered the gift, they asked for Kiyoko to take it away, only to be told that she couldn't. But despite this, (y/n) always fought against the gift whenever they could.

When (y/n) was still a child, their mother grew very ill. As she laid in her bed, she told (y/n) to never reveal their gift to anyone. She didn't want her child to be taken advantage of. Before she passed away, she gave them her necklace to remember her by.

----💫----

Getting dressed, (y/n) put on their mother's necklace only to be interrupted by none other than Kiyoko. "(Y/n), your father wants to speak to you." She said before taking her leave.

(y/n) walked to their father's study only to receive shocking news.

"What?! You're married??"

"Look, she has money. It was either marry her or sell the house. She has two sons, so there's no doubt she's a wonderful mother-figure." He let out a sigh before continuing. "I'm sure you'll all be the best of friends, just... give them all a chance."

The next morning, three people arrived in a carriage. They were *not* pleased at the sight of the house.

(y/n)'s father greeted the three with a warm smile and two kisses to the woman's cheeks. "Welcome, my dear. These must be your sons?"

She nodded with a fake smile. "Yes, this is my dear Tooru, and my... other son, Tobio." The brunette just stared while the black haired one did an exaggerated bow. Just as this occurred, (y/n) walks out of the house to meet the three new people who were supposedly living with them now.

"You must be (y/n)." The woman said, giving them a once over. (y/n) bowed and greeted them with a polite "pleased to meet you."

After a short, awkward pause, the woman returned her attention to the father. "You have a wonderful home, but I recall you saying that you had a castle." she hissed out.

He shook his head. "No no, you must be mistaken, I said "A man's home is his castle"."

While their father and the lady talked, (y/n) introduced themselves with a smile only to be almost completely ignored.

Inside the house, the two brothers began setting up. Tooru putting up posters of a prince while Tobio explained.

"Tooru's president of Prince Tetsu's fan club." They grinned at each other only for their faces to fall into a scowl when (y/n) spoke.

"You must be aware that Tetsurou and his uncle are responsible for the segregation of the kingdom, right?"

With a judging look, Tooru spoke. "so? He's hot."

After looking around a bit the two were getting increasingly displeased with their surroundings. A small room, damn near nonexistent closet space, etc. "This won't work." The brunette spoke in a clearly disgusted tone. "We'll use yours. Show it to us."

Unable to disobey the command, (y/n) led them towards their room. Tooru narrowed his eyes and seemed to file that bit of information for later. Upon reaching the room, He was immediately disgusted. "It looks awful. There isn't any room here either. We're throwing out some of your clothes."

"what?! No. Get out of my closet." They went to attempt to force him away only for him to immediately demand that you get away from him.

As they backed up, He noticed the necklace and demanded that it be given to him. Unfortunately, (y/n) was forced to hand over the necklace.

Not a moment later, (y/n)'s father announced his business trip. They needed money and his work was the only thing keeping them afloat.

----💫----

During a heated debate in class is when Tooru figured it out. They'd been debating on whether king Kei had been a fair ruler or not. (y/n) was vehemently arguing in favor that he was not. He'd enslaved every other race and forced them to work in little stereotyped boxes. He'd made laborers and entertainers out of anyone non human. (y/n) *hated* it.

Tooru, on the other hand, thought that he was a wonderful ruler. He gave us free enterprises, humans don't have to work hard at things that *they* should be doing. They disagreed and when (y/n) insulted the prince. Tooru demanded that they apologize and admit they're wrong and when (y/n) did, it all clicked. (Y/n) couldn't obey a single command they were given.

----⭐----

"Do I really have to go to this mall opening?" Tetsurou asked his uncle as they sat inaide of an extremely expensive looking carriage.

"As heir to the throne, it's your responsibility. You're a public figure. You have to be seen." Kei told him simply.

"Yeah but you're the one in charge."

"Not for long. Your coronation is next week and you need to be out there with your people, Tetsu."

Seated next to Kei was Tadashi, who was something like Kei's closest companion. You would rarely ever see Kei without Tadashi.

Kei advised Tetsurou that keeping a good public image builds trust within a kingdom before telling him of the things that where apparently going on within the kingdom.

Of giants and ogres wanting to rebel against them and take them down but none of this sounded right to him.

"The giants have always been peaceful." Tetsurou said, confused as to why he was being told otherwise.

"The ogres were once peaceful as well. Until they killed your father in cold blood." His voice held a certain edge to it. "Before your father's gruesome death, I promised him that if anything happened to him, I would take care of you and the kingdom." Pushing up his glasses, a glare formed on the glass, shielding his eyes from view. "I have kept my promise, haven't I?"

Tetsurou remained silent for the rest of the ride, turning to face the window instead of his uncle.

----💫----

(Y/n) sat in the crowd next to Yachi, surrounded by hundreds of adoring fans of the prince as king Kei made an announcement.

"Thank you. It's wonderful to be in your... charming town of... Frell. Prince Tetsurou and I-" He was immediately cut off by the sounds of hundreds of people screaming at the mere mention of the prince's name. Kei decided to get the announcement done and over with. "And now it's with great pleasure that I introduce Prince Tetsurou."

Screams broke out again as the prince stepped into view. He waved as he walked out.

This was their cue.

Immediately, (y/n) and Yachi stood up on a fountain holding banners that read Say No To Ogrecide! and Stop Giant Land Grab!. The began chanting these words at the prince, catching his attention.

Tooru did not like this. He immediately ran over to the two protesting. "You're embarrassing us!" he hissed. "Go Home. Now."

Immediately, (y/n) began apologizing to Yachi as they left her there.

----⭐----

"Prince Tetsu, are you a fast runner?" A girl in the front asked him. He shook his head with a smile.

"Not really, why?" He immediately regretted those words. Because as soon as they left his mouth, the crowd charged at him; forcing him to flee.

He ran as quickly as he could until he ran into someone walking down a pathway. Quickly, he pulled them down and behind a stone wall.

"Prince Tetsurou."

"Please, call me Tetsu..." He trailed off, looking at the person he had just pulled down. "Sorry about that." He attempted to help them up, only to immediately be shot down.

"I don't need your chivalry and I definitely don't intend on bowing to you, either." They dusted themselves off and began walking away.

"Bow or not, that's your choice. Can't really do much about that other than have you beheaded, but that's a bit too much" he joked.

"Charming. Why don't you do what your people usually do? Steal my land and destroy my livelihood. Now if you'll excuse me." They continued walking away only to be forcefully stopped by him commanding them to wait and come back.

Groaning, (y/n) turned around and walked back to him, standing directly in front of him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"(Y/n) of Frell."

"(Y/n)... You're one of the first people I've met that hasn't immediately melted at the sight of me." He sounded astonished.

"It might've done you some good." They rolled their eyes and went to turn around and leave again.

Tetsurou paused and looked offended. "Wait, I've never stolen anyone's land nor their livelihood. I want peace in the kingdom as much as anyone."

(y/n) turned around with a scowl on their face. "So you have a new plan once you take the crown?"

"Well... Sorta... I can't reveal it though."

They scoffed in his face. "Yeah, thought so. Y'know you're all the same. You care more about your fancy club and next jousting tournament."

"I- well I've never been comfortable with having a fanclub. In fact... Your obvious hatred of me is kinda refreshing." He grinned.

"Obvious? I was trying so hard to hide it." They rolled their eyes and continued on their walk home. As they were walking they suddenly remembered leaving their bag. Any attempt to go retrieve it was immediately stopped by a simple "wait right there."

They were stuck in place as Tetsu rushed back to get it. Unfortunately, a carriage was rushing towards them. They called out his name but was only saved as they were inches away from getting hit.

"Are you insane?! Why didn't you move?" Tetsurou asked.

"Yeah... I would've... were it not for your apparent fascination with knocking me to the ground." They sat up. "This is the second time today."

"Yeah well I'll try to be more considerate next time you're about to get ran over."

"What makes you think we'll see each other again?" They raised an eyebrow.

"Won't we?" he asked.

"Nope."

Before much else could be said, Tooru stood in the middle of the path, seething. "Get over here."

Immediately, (y/n) got up and walked over.

"Shouldn't you be at home cleaning the fireplace?" Tooru let out a forced laugh before whispering to them. "Stop flirting. I'm going to be at his coronation."

"Yeah in the center of the table with an apple in your mouth." They muttered in response.

"Go back to the mall with Tobio."

(y/n) stormed off with Tobio in tow as Tooru stayed back to try to flirt with his royal highness.

----💫----

At the mall, (y/n) met back up with Yachi. "Where were you?" the girl asked. (y/n) explained their meeting with the prince and went on to say that Tobio and Tooru were there.

"Why do you always do what Tooru tells you to?" She asked.

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Tell the truth."

"Guess I do..."

A moment later the two were spotted by Tobio and Tooru. "(Y/n). take that for me." Tooru asked, pointing towards something on a stand. The moment they took it, something lit up in Tobio's eyes. It quickly devolved into demanding them to steal various items against their will until they got caught taking a pair of glass slippers.

It resulted in (y/n) getting chased throughout the mall by a guard.

----💫----

The moment their new step mother learned that (y/n) had been arrested for theft, she flew into exaggerated hysterics. "A felon in my own home!" she cried.

Kiyoko immediately came to their defense. "They were probably put up to it. The (y/n) I know, would never do this." She glared at the brothers. However, as Tooru looked out the window, He got an idea.

"Kiyoko's right, we were there. They were forced to and it isn't poor (y/n)'s fault at all." He sighed to his mother, leaving (y/n) and kiyoko confused.

"So, Who put you up to it?" The woman demanded as she looked away.

A devious smirk graced Tooru's face. "Tell her it was Yachi." He whispered.

"Y-" They quickly covered their mouth but that wasn't enough. "Yachi."

Kiyoko closed her eyes and let out a sigh. The woman immediately forbade (y/n) from ever speaking to them again.

It was then that Yachi approached the door with the intent to ask (y/n) about what had happened at the mall. (y/n) was forced to answer the door and tell their best and only friend that they never want to see her again.

Later that day, (y/n) cried to Kiyoko about how awful the experience was until they came to the conclusion that they absolutely had to find the fairy that cursed them and Kiyoko offered something that would help them.

She held a book in her hands and present it to to them.

"I'm not... The most talented fairy... But this book is my boyfriend, Ryuu..."

The book was a light pink and gold with a magic mirror in the center. It showed a face in it and the moment he was revealed, he greeted (y/n).

"I've never seen anyone like it."

"Well, It was an accident. I wanted to practice a spell that would trim his hair since it had grown out, but it... didn't go well. So now he's in a book." Kiyoko explained.

Kiyoko allowed (y/n) to take Ryuu along with them on their journey.

----💫----

They walked through a forest, holding Ryuu in their hands when they heard screams. An elf was stuck to a spinning wheel as a couple of people threw darts at him. The elf told them to kick their asses and they did just that.

He began commentating as they fought off the guys and eventually, they won the fight with the men retreating.

Immediately (y/n) helped the elf down and checked on them quickly. Fortunately, the elf was completely uninjured.

"I'm Shoyo!"

"I'm (y/n). Nice to meet you. Now if you're okay, it was nice to meet you but I have to leave."

That didn't sit well with Shoyo. He immediately began arguing and trying to convince them to eat with him until he succeeded. Convinced that (y/n) wouldn't make it through the woods alone.

Eventually they made it to a bar in an Shoyo's home town with only a minor distraction.

Inside of the bar, they both sat down to eat and so (y/n) decided to ask a question. "Why don't you like music?"

"Right because all Elves are supposed to love singing and dancing. I wanna be an athlete, not an singer or dancer."

(Y/n) nodded sympathetically. "Yeah I understand that. I'd forgotten all about the laws that restrict elves from being anything other than singers and other occupations like that."

----💫----

After convincing Shoyo to come with them, (y/n) walked alongside him calmly until they were caught up with a couple of ogres. (y/n) tried to convince the ogres that that they were on their side only for that to backfire horribly and end up with them being steadily lowered into a pot with Shoyo tied to a tree.

Extremely conveniently, Prince Tetsurou found them and fought off the ogres, freeing (y/n) and Shoyo. He backed one of them against a tree with a sword pointed at the ogre's neck. "Are you one of the monsters that killed my father?"

The ogre looked confused. "What? No no, you've got it all wrong. King Koutarou was a good man! We lived in peace during his reign, why would we ever want to kill him?"

Tetsurou pulled the sword away from the ogre but didn't seem to believe his words. "Leave. Find breakfast somewhere else."

The ogres agreed and quickly left the area. Tetsurou turned towards (y/n). "What are you doing here w with an elf for protection? Do you get off to near death experiences or something?"

"No. I had things under control." They lied.

"Yeah, sure you did. I see the score stands Chivalry: 2, Gratitude: 0." He said, back facing them.

They apologized and thanked him for the help before cleaning dressing a wound he'd gotten from protecting them.

"So... Where are you heading?"

"A giant's wedding. I have to meet my godfather."

"That's on the way back to me home, I'll come with."

"No thanks."

"Too bad."

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire    chapter 3

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary:  The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.

Chapter Summary: You are less then pleased with the situation you find yourself in and find yourself unable to resist the urge to pester the Monk. The Monk tries to figure out who he is dealing with and what he should do.

Warnings: None in this one I think.

Word count: 1669 words in this chapter.

Chapter:  3/ 30+ something (buckle up, it’s a wild ride.)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After what felt like you had circled the whole damn forest, the Monk finally stopped. The sun was going down when he descended from his horse and walked towards you. He grabbed the rope and started to bundle it in his hands as he approached. You thought about your options. Running ? Not without the boy and he had a horse. Fighting ? Without a weapon you had little chance. He took hold of your upper arm and started to pull you along “Don't try to escape. I will capture you again, and I will not be this polite. Understood ?” You glared at him “What is your plan, Monk ? Why have you dragged me and this boy through the forest ?” He stopped next to a tree and started to bind the rope around it, and you realised he was keeping you at a distance from the boy. Which would make escaping near impossible as you could not reach the boy to untie him. “I will tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He looked at you and you knew he must suspect something about you. You ignored him, something he expected. “No ? Then I will let you resume your speculations.” The Monk seemed almost entertained. He let go off your arm after he finished tying the rope to the tree. By the way he had tied your hands together it would prove impossible to break free. You had little to no room to move far from the tree. He then walked over to the boy, Squirrel, to tie his ropes in a 'safe' spot as well. You watched as he collected some fallen branches to make a fire, all while he kept a watchfull eye on you and the boy. After a while you slid down against the tree, you couldn't deny that you were tired after walking for so long and the boy looked tired as well. The cursing had stopped minutes ago and you saw how Squirrel struggled to stay awake before he ended up falling asleep. You wondered if this were your last hours alive. Considering the Monk had not killed you yet, the only other thing you could think of was that he was taking you to Father Carden to be judged for trying to save a fey boy. Moments passed and now you struggled to stay awake, you saw the Monk sit down and lean against a tree not far from you. His eyes focusing on the fire in front of him. You still couldn't believe how calm he looked. As if this was something that happened daily. Still, you were glad he didn't seem to be interested in torturing you on the way to Father Carden. You hated to admit that he was almost polite, you doubted the his red brothers would be this 'polite'. He had not even scolded the boy for all the cursing aimed at him, not even once. You struggled against the tight ropes, trying to get them a little looser. The Monk must have noticed your attempts "Did you need a hand ?" He looked uninterested but you noted a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Was he seriously joking right now ?? You glared over at him and sarcastically answered "Why, yes. But unfortunately some madman tied them up !" He ignored you again and after a while you felt like pestering him out of spite. If he was going to keep you captive, you would make this situation as unpleasant for him as it was for you “How's the shoulder ?” He had closed his eyes but opened them slightly when he heard the mocking question “How are the wrists ?” he shot back. You rolled your eyes, they felt sore and were a little swollen "Perfectly fine." "Excellent, then I won't have to loosen the ropes a little for you. I had assumed they were swollen." He deadpanned. Gods, you hated the smug bastard. "Smug bastard." You said through your teeth. He leaned his head back against the tree, letting out a disgruntled noise and then suddenly got up. You were instantly alarmed as he walked towards you. Shit, did you push it too far ? His hand reached out near your face and out of habit you flinched and closed your eyes. Living with  Draegan all these years had caused that reflex. However the impact of pain never came. You opened your eyes again and saw he had halted his movement at your reaction. Then he gingerly reached for the rope and loosened it just a little so it no longer cut into your skin. You looked at him bewildered. He looked over at the boy who still slept before moving away from you and sitting down against the tree again. He rested his head against it, closing his eyes to rest. You looked at your wrists and then back to him. That was.. strange ? You had insulted him and he did something...nice ? You studied the Monk curiously. Not only did he not look like the Red Paladins, he also did not act like one of them.

After staring at him for a bit you spoke "Is this what you do then ? Drag people behind your horse through the forest. Are you that desperate for some human interaction ?" The Monk sighed deeply at your rambling "I've heard it is what your brother does. But there is less talking when he does it." With less talking he meant there was screaming or worse. You casted your eyes down, another reminder of how cruel your brother truly was. You didn't comment on it anymore, instead you turned to lay against the tree. The last thing you wanted to think about was your brother. If Father Carden didn't have you killed for interferring, you doubted your brother would do the same. You felt your eyes get heavy and felt the alluring sensation of sleep carry you away.

The Monk had noticed your sudden silence at the mention of the Huntsman's actions. After some time had passed he had looked over at you from the corner of his eye and saw that you had fallen asleep. Not suprising after the long walk, and it had also been what he had hoped for. You and the boy were the perfect bait. Yet, there was something plaguing him. It was the moment he had pulled you towards him while he was sitting on Goliath. It had taken him a moment to realise what you had suggested. At first he wasn't sure if he was drawing the correct conclusion but one look at you, looking down at the ground, confirmed it. He knew you helped the fey, but to sacrifice yourself like this for the life of one fey boy was something that left him aghast. There were few lines he would not cross and taking advantage of a woman who was his captive and bound by ropes was one of them. Not just because of his faith but the idea itself made him sick to the stomach. He'd heard about Paladins abusing their authority to take advantage of others, and he made sure none of them would even attempt it if he was around. The thought that you suspected him to be capable of such behaviour, that you feared it could be his intention, made him feel terrible. You had never looked afraid before, not at your village, not even when he had held his sword against you. No. But when he had looked down at you from his horse, he knew you were afraid. The rest of the ride it kept gnawing at him, and he wondered what he was going to do with you after he had succeeded in his plan in lurring the fey. Which had been his plan all along, you and the boy were just bait that is why you were useful to him. A defenceless woman and child would work like a magnet on the fey hiding in this forest. He was positive that you were giving information to the fey to warn them. He had no hard evidence, and to just accuse the sister of the Huntsman would be foolish. But he would have to decide wether or not to kill you soon, a decission he was struggling with.

He watched as you slept, uncertain if it was out of fear you would break free and kill him if he slept as well, or of it was because you looked far less intimidating while you slept. The angry frown was gone, no clenched jaw. Just sleeping almost peacefully under the less then ideal circumstances. You moved a little while you slept and then he noticed something. It would be hard to spot for most in the dark, but he had spend many nights like this and his eyes had adjusted well to it. Your sleeve had moved up somewhat, revealing a rather large bruise. You could have gotten it from walking through the forest and having branches make contact with your skin. But the shape of it revealed a whole different story. There were small bruises close to it. Someone had grabbed you and caused the bruises. He thought back to the moment he had disarmed you in the forest, he had no recollection of ever grabbing that arm. Let alone having been rough enough to cause a bruise that bad. He frowned as he studied it, how had you obtained it ? You did not seem like the kind of person to end up in fights. As if hearing his thoughts, you turned over in your sleep. Now facing away from him. He let his head rest against the tree again, not long after he fell a into a shallow slumber. He had not rested for long before he was completely alert again. The Monk had caught their scent long before they had approached him. He had pretended to be asleep up until they had poked him with the strangely shaped weapon. "Get up, you murdering pig !"

@itsjustjenna​   @thesneakylittleminx​   @ourlazydetectivekitten​ @the-great-adventures-of-me​ @linkpk88​ @mixedchicaq​  @boredoomfm​ @soccmoss​ @fxrchxldws​ @rogershoe​  @elenaoftheturks​ @slytherlight​ @beananacake​ @tanyaherondale​ @lancelotapricot​  @captainbucky-yt​

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: Towers of Midnight ch 6

Morgase serves tea and makes a choice

Chapter 6: Questioning Intentions

Oh man Morgase POV is always sad.

Though I suppose her situation now is arguably better than it’s been in…oh…ten books or so, so maybe it will get better for her.

Right now, she’s serving tea.

Tam al’Thor, the simple farmer with the broad shoulders and the calm manners.

And also your in-law. Well, sort of. I mean, it’s complicated.

Okay sorry now I’m distracted by the thought of how absurd those family dinners would be. You’ve got Rand, Elayne, Min, and Aviendha (we’re just going to count that bonding as a marriage because to all intents and purposes…), then Tam, Morgase, Min’s aunts (are they alive? Why can I not remember this?), probably Amys given the sister-bonding ceremony, and if she’s there Rhuarc and Lian probably would be as well. Then Birgitte and Niella and Galad and Gawyn, and that’s just the immediate family but would you also have to extend a courtesy invite to Alanna, and therefore also Ihvon? And if we’re extending courtesy invites based on ‘has real estate in Rand’s head’ then we’ve got to invite Moridin as well, and at that point even without additional plus-ones I don’t envy the person who has to make that seating chart.

That was a tangent.

Of course, Morgase had seen Rand al’Thor once, and the boy hadn’t looked much more than a farmer himself.

Okay I do sort of want to be a fly on the wall when Morgase finds out that Elayne is pregnant with his child.

Speaking of seating charts, we get a roll call for this meeting but it does not add up to 23. Yes I will be looking for that everywhere now.

Very little about that time in her life made sense to her now. Had she really been so infatuated with a man that she’d banished Aemlyn and Ellorien?

Oh Morgase. If she can get one thing out of this mess, let it be the knowledge of who Gaebril really was. Because sure, sometimes it’s better not to know. But one of the cruellest things he did to her, in that whole mess of cruelty, was to leave her with absolutely no way of knowing this was not, truly, all her fault. He took away her self, her trust in and certainty of who she is. He undermined her nation and banished her friends and made her believe, even after his death, that it was by her hand and by her choice.

As if the physical and mental violation wasn’t enough. He found a way to violate her on another level as well, by twisting her own sense of herself, by leaving behind a ruin and leaving her no way to understand that it wasn’t of her own making. The Queen is married to the land, and for all she knows, she has betrayed that in every possible way, and she can’t possibly know that her choices were not her own.

Knowing that it wasn’t her choice, and that there was nothing she could have done… I mean that won’t be fun either, but it would at least give her something of her self back.

Meanwhile, Perrin’s annoyed at how long it took the Wise Ones and Aes Sedai to burn that village. Listen, people, you can’t keep judging these things by Rand. Just because he could take out a city in a matter of seconds doesn’t mean everyone can. Do I need to invent more units of measurement here? The Therin: potential mountains created or destroyed per unit of time.

“You wetlanders would have much trouble dealing with something as deadly as the Blight.”

“I think,” Faile said, “that you would be surprised.”

Yeah. Also don’t say that in Lan’s hearing.

Oddly, Faile’s sense of leadership seemed to have been enhanced by her time spent with the Shaido.

Nope, sorry, still not here for halfhearted attempts to pretend that storyline was All For Her Benefit, Actually. Especially because if we do take that on faith, it leads to some… okay no I’m not rehashing all my issues with the Malden plotline here; none of us need that.

Suffice it to say: ughhhhhhhhhhhh.

At times, being a servant seemed to require more stealth than being a scout. She wasn’t to be seen, wasn’t to distract. Had her own servants acted this way around her?

Morgase and Siuan could have an interesting conversation about dramatic changes in social and political status in a short space of time. And also, you know, extreme trauma and other fun pastimes, but especially the way they both then look at and try to come to terms with their new situations. They both do the same sort of thing of looking at all the ways in which they can still exercise power, only more subtly. The advantages of being overlooked and underestimated. And some of it is likely a kind of denial—a way to not feel like everything they knew and everything they were is lost. To try to focus on the advantages because that makes it hurt less. And the way in which they approach that is the politician’s way: turn it to your advantage, look for lines of power that weren’t there before. And also to think through the implications, and see things they may once have overlooked.

It's a hell of a price to pay for a change in perspective, but the fact that she can look at it that way, and think along some of those lines, is in its way a testament to her capability.

It discomforted her that the two Aes Sedai no longer seemed to resist their station.

Pretty sure we’re not really talking about the Aes Sedai here, Morgase. Because this is the other side of that acceptance of a new role: the fear that, in accepting it, she will lose what remains of herself. Oh look, we’re back to that central idea of identity and self and what it means to hold or lose or change that, and the fine balance between those possibilities.

Pouring tea was more complicated than she’d ever assumed.

This is something Jordan occasionally did as well: centring a chapter—especially one told from the viewpoint of a more minor character—around a motif or touchpoint like this, returning to it as a way of anchoring the rest of the chapter, and giving it more shape, especially when much of it is introspection or observation rather than action. Ornaments comes to mind, from Crossroads of Twilight, but there are quite a few others.

And of course I’m never going to complain about tea being used as a device for focusing a chapter.

It gives us a point from which to segue into Morgase’s thoughts on Perrin, which boil down to a solid ‘it’s complicated’. Mostly because by the standards of the Queen of Andor, he’s technically a rebel.

Alliandre’s cup was half empty. Morgase moved over to refill it; like many highborn ladies, Alliandre always expected her cup to be full.

And so we see the function of the tea: it’s a focal point for the chapter, but more than that it’s the method we’re using to get Morgase’s thoughts about and insights into the various people gathered here. Little bits of character and personality in… not so much how they take their tea, but the considerations around it. The things Morgase has to think about and keep track of, even for so simple a task. And so we get insight into Morgase’s new role as well, and into some of what she’s learning: that even in a position where she is largely unnoticed, there is a great deal she can and must see, and know, and understand about those around her. To pick up on those cues and know what they mean, and how that gives her insight into far more than how they take their tea.

Morgase was no longer the person she had once been. She wasn’t sure what she was, but she would learn how to do her duty as a lady’s maid. This was becoming a passion for her. A way to prove to herself that she was still strong, still of value.

In a way, it was terrifying that she worried about that.

And really fucking sad. But also entirely true to who she is and her situation. She’s lost everything. Her role, her nation, her friends, her sense of self, her sense of autonomy, her name, her identity. And she believes most of it to be her own fault, through her own poor choices and decisions. And now she’s here, under a new name and a new role and everyone believing the person she was to be dead, and Morgase herself came pretty close to making that true. How could she not feel lost, and uncertain of who she is, and desperate to prove that she’s still…someone. To prove that she was right to let Lini draw her away from that open window. Which, yeah, that gets dark fast, but Morgase’s story is not a happy one.

With all she has lost and all she can no longer be, she’s left in this space of not really knowing her purpose, or her place, or even who she is, anymore. And that’s hard enough, but then we add in all the self-loathing stemming from what she thinks she did, and failed to do, and the choices she’s had to make, and you end up here: with Morgase struggling to find any sense of self-worth. And so believing she has to prove—to herself, to others—that she is worth something, because there’s so much in her mind telling her she’s…not.

Meanwhile, Perrin still seems to think he can just send everyone home and everything will go back to normal. Speaking of denial.

“I’m not trying to recruit,” Perrin said. “Just because I don’t turn them away doesn’t mean I intend to enlarge this army any further.”

That sounds oddly like Lan’s resignation to Nynaeve recruiting him an army on a technicality. The difference being Lan at least recognises that’s what’s happening.

Perrin please.

“I didn’t make this banner,” Perrin said. “I never wanted it, but—upon advice—I let it fly. Well, the reasons for doing that are past. I’d order the thing taken down, but that never seems to work for long.” He looked to Wil. “Wil, I want it passed through camp. I’m giving a direct order. I want each and every copy of this blasted banner burned. You understand?”

Two steps forward and one step back.

I mean, I suppose you could make an argument on either side of this: on the one hand seriously, Perrin? You have been trying to deny this banner and your place as leader of these people for nine books now. Has it ever worked for you before? And do you really want to take away that focal point, that symbol to these people of what they’re fighting for and who they’re loyal to and why?

On the other hand… giving up his claim to Manetheren wasn’t a popular decision but I think it was the right one, because it helped focus them on what was truly important and prevent unnecessary tension between those who should be allies, by getting mixed up in the politics of raising a dead nation from the land of existing ones. And you could maybe argue that this is a similar angle, and that he’s trying to get them to focus not on him but on the larger purpose they all need to serve. But that feels like I’m trying too hard.

So, in summary: sigh.

Faile is also very much not convinced. I do sort of get where Perrin’s coming from, that if these people want to fight, they can do so for the Dragon Reborn because he’s the actual champion of the Light. But in reality, delegation is important, Perrin! That’s why you have a place in this as well! That’s why the Pattern dumped leadership superpowers and also wolves on you! Someone needs to actually do the groundwork of leading these people and Rand doesn’t have time or capacity for all of it.

And these people know you, Perrin. You’re the one they chose to follow; Rand is… well, as in so many things, more a force than a person at this point, in the eyes of most. They can fight for his cause, sure, but they’re not really fighting for him the way they’ll fight for the one who helped save their village or their people, and the one they see day to day and choose to give their loyalty to.

“Son,” Tam addressed Perrin, “the lads put a lot of stock in that banner.”

That pretty much says it all. This isn’t a time to be taking that kind of symbol from people, or messing unnecessarily with their sense of identity, or their foundations. In a weird way I’m reminded of Egwene’s approach with the Aes Sedai, and all her thoughts on how to reforge the Tower without breaking it. Making some compromises where needed because while there are some places where she can push, she can’t afford to completely shatter their sense of who they are. Not now, when there’s so little time.

And with Perrin, it’s that same sense of… work with what you have. Forge the metal you’re given. This is the situation, and maybe it’s not perfect, but it’s what you have. That loyalty is a part of the toolset you’ve been handed, so see it for what it is and work with it rather than trying to force it into a different shape and risk breaking the metal entirely.

Literally no one thinks this is a good idea.

“Husband,” Faile said, her words clipped. “Might I suggest that we begin with the ones who want to be sent away?”

And so it comes down, like so much else, to choices; Perrin wants to send them away but these people have chosen to follow him. He’s not keeping them here; they’ve decided to stay. And yes, you can flip that around and say he should also have the choice not to lead, and… yeah, okay, that’s a bit like how Rand technically has the choice not to fight. It’s a choice but not one either of them could really live with themselves for making, and so it becomes a question of framing and perception.

But also, Perrin does lead. When it comes down to it, he takes on that role. That is the choice he makes, over and over, in the moment. It’s in the time between those moments of action, when he is his own worst enemy in a way: he doubts and he fights against it and he looks back on past choices and questions himself and his role and his purpose. In the moment, he leads and he fights and he uses what he has. But in these periods of inaction he thinks himself into a tangle of ‘I’m only a blacksmith’, even when all his actions say otherwise. He just needs to get to a point where he can acknowledge and accept and own that.

Instead, he keeps wavering. And keeps trying to make it stick, but he’s trying to make the choice for those who follow him, rather than making his own choice, and so it doesn’t work.

The Pattern’s bringing maths into it now as well: they literally can’t keep large enough gateways open long enough to send everyone away. A hint, Perrin. Take it.

“Also,” Faile said, “perhaps it is time to send messengers to contact the Lord Dragon”

Someone suggesting proactive communication? If we didn’t already know the apocalypse was near…

“I…” Perrin seemed to flounder. Had he a source of information he wasn’t sharing?

Morgase. Please. Do you even need to ask? Does anyone in this series share anything?

Though in this case ‘I see swirls of colour and sometimes a bit of context whenever I think the names of my friends’ is, understandably, the sort of thing you might want to keep quiet until you can think of a way to frame it so that it doesn’t sound absolutely absurd. Although ‘absurd’ is sort of a moot point when the sky is full of black and silver clouds and the Blight appears in villages that don’t actually exist, so. It’s all relative.

Edarra suggests linking with the Asha’man and on the one hand yes! Cooperation! Good! But on the other hand why would you make it easier for Perrin to continue to try to send everyone away?

I suppose she’s thinking more of the refugees who do actually want to go home, though, so… okay fair enough.

“What would it cost me for you to try this?”

“You have worked too long with Aes Sedai, Perrin Aybara,” Edarra said with a sniff. “Not everything must be done at a cost. This will benefit us all.”

On that last, she is absolutely right. This is what they all need to be doing, and finally we’re starting to see it: cooperation, collaboration, setting aside old divisions and realising that perhaps if they work together they will be stronger for it. Small steps, and all that.

“Burn you, woman, why didn’t you bring it to me earlier, then?”

“You seem hardly interested in your position as chief, most of the time,” Edarra said coldly. “Respect is a thing earned and not demanded, Perrin Aybara.”

Ouch. On both sides there, because they both very much have a point. Edarra should have brought this up earlier, to someone even if not to Perrin.

But Perrin… this is where he kind of tries to have his cake and eat it: he says he’s not a leader, that he’s only a blacksmith, that he wants to send people away or let them fight for Rand rather than him. Tries to deny his role during the times when it’s not absolutely imperative that he claim it. But at other times he is quick to take command, and to make the decisions, and to give direction. And now, he wants to know why she didn’t bring this to him. Because he is, after all, the authority here.

If you would have that, Perrin, you have to accept all the aspects of it. You can’t keep leading these people and then saying you’re not actually their leader, but then also expect them to abide by your decisions—whether that’s to send them away, or to expect them to come to you with information.

There’s an interesting irony in how, by trying to be responsible and not take on a role he doesn’t think he’s suited for, he ends up doing something arguably irresponsible by neglecting the duties of a role he has in fact taken.

It’s not easy. It doesn’t seem like fun. But Perrin, you have to make the choice and claim it and understand what it means, and stop denying yourself.

To his very great credit, Perrin takes the admonishment seriously.

Aiel were people, like any other. They had odd traditions and cultural quirks, but so did everyone else. A queen had to be able to understand all of the people within her realm—and all of her realm’s potential enemies.

I like this about Morgase, and it’s something we see in Elayne as well: this acknowledgement of the importance of cultural understanding. They don’t always get it right, of course, but they understand the importance of it, and while we haven’t seen as much of Morgase in general, we do see Elayne try to follow through on this whenever she’s faced with a different people or group or culture, and I think this is where she gets it from.

Ah, so Balwer wants to visit Rand’s academy in Cairhien. What exactly are you hoping to find, Balwer?

Would [Balwer] tell Aybara who she really was?

I…huh. I hadn’t even thought of that. The others in that group obviously didn’t want or intend to tell anyone who Morgase is, but Balwer has given his loyalty and service to Perrin, so it is actually kind of interesting that he wouldn’t have said anything. But then, if Perrin hasn’t asked, and Balwer also has no specific desire to betray Morgase, I suppose he wouldn’t necessarily bring it up either. And it’s not like people here default to communication when there’s any other option, so… okay, that checks out.

Besides, think how much more fun it will be for this all to come out when Perrin and Galad run into each other. And by fun I mean probably the opposite of that for nearly everyone involved. But fun for me, which is of course the important thing.

She should have approached the dusty man earlier, to see what the price would be to keep his silence. Mistakes like that could cost a queen her throne.

She froze, hand halfway to a cup. You’re not a queen any longer. You have to stop thinking like one!

Oh, Morgase. There’s just… that’s quite a lot of pain packed into a few almost-offhand thoughts.

Especially because, again, it brings it back to this question of self and identity and who is she, now that she’s not a queen? To the point where she’s trying to remake the very patterns of her thoughts, to make herself into someone else because she can’t be who she was before, but if that person is lost then what is left?

Also, on a somewhat less sad note, there’s another small irony here: Morgase, a former queen, trying to force herself out of those habits of thinking, while she and everyone else around her is trying to push Perrin into them.

Of course now Morgase is thinking about how she can’t really go home, because people have to continue to believe she’s dead and Elayne has to be able to stand on her own otherwise it’s a political nightmare and she’s not necessarily wrong but man, Morgase’s story is fucking sad.

Why had she done such things?

I know I’ve already said this at least five hundred times but please, please just let her find out. Of everything, and there’s a lot, I think this is the worst. Bad enough she’s lost everything else and suffered everything she’s suffered and is now adrift, effectively an exile, and trying to find her place—how can she do that when she doesn’t even have her own self to hold on to? When she can barely even trust that? And especially when it comes with the consequences of those things she thinks she did of her own volition, because it’s not just that she doesn’t trust herself; for some things she hates herself.

Perhaps she should have done the noble thing and killed herself.

Wow.

Okay. So that’s.

Yeah. That got dark.

I mean, it’s not… a surprise, given that we very much watched her near-suicide, but…damn. For her to think that would have been the ‘noble thing’. For her to think that her survival is not in and of itself a victory.

She doesn’t even know if Elayne is queen yet, or even in Caemlyn. And politics aside, how hard that must be to not know where her daughter is or even if she’s alive.

Apparently she officially likes Tallanvor now, which… okay sure she deserves whatever happiness she can find, at this point, but this one has always sort of weirded me out. Then again that’s true of a lot of the romance in this series, so okay sure whatever.

Looking into those beautiful young eyes of his, she could not entertain the notion of suicide, even for the good of Andor. She felt a fool for that. Hadn’t she let her heart lead her into enough trouble already?

Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here and I don’t know that I’m going to even try with all of it, but I’m… not a fan of the way it plays to this whole he’s-what-keeps-her-from-killing-herself angle. I just find that an uncomfortable space in general, for any number of reasons.

But the part that hurts, here, of course, is the last part. Hadn’t she let her heart lead her into enough trouble already. Because again, she thinks this is all her fault. Everything that’s happened; she thinks it’s just… her own poor choices, when the truth is that she had no choice, for so much of it. Which… I mean I don’t think I need to make the obvious real-world connection here, but it plays very true to that tendency for those not at all at fault to blame themselves, and how devastating that can be.

Perrin of course knows none of this but does know there’s something going on with Morgase and Tallanvor, because Tallanvor in particular is not exactly subtle.

Morgase raised an eyebrow. From what she’d seen, Perrin himself had followed Faile around lately nearly as much.

Point to Morgase.

PERRIN. NO.

“I was given a suggestion back when you first joined us,” Perrin said gruffly. “Well, I think it’s about time I took it. Lately, you two are like youths from different villages, mooning over one another in the hour before Sunday ends. It’s high time you were married. We could have Alliandre do it, or maybe I could. Do you have some tradition you follow?”

YOU. ABSOLUTE. IDIOT.

Hang on a second, I need to go find a wall to hit my head against repeatedly.

I just. Perrin. No. Why would you even. Think this was a good idea. Pause for five seconds and consider.

Even without any of the knowledge of how awful Morgase’s life has been for the last year or so, Perrin should know better, damn it. You can’t just tell two people to get married as if they have no say in the matter! Especially when it’s not even like he’s taking one of them aside to have a quiet word about ‘this is getting in the way of your work; sort it out’, which would be kind of awkward but just about skirting the edges of acceptability. No, he’s saying it to both of them, when he has no confirmation from either that this is actually what they want. But he’s in charge here so now it’s hard for either of them to refuse him, and of course that would mean publicly rejecting the other, and in short this is the worst idea you’ve had in a while, Perrin.

And then of course—not that Perrin has any reason to know this—there’s the reality of Morgase’s recent past, which makes having her agency taken away (again) in the context of marriage and all that entails (again), even more of a glaring Do Not Want.

Morgase felt a sudden panic

I mean yeah, that’s probably the understatement of the fucking Age.

“Gather any you want to witness and be back here in an hour. Then we’ll get this silliness over with.”

So it’s not enough to take away any choice they may have in the matter and assume you know best; now you need to trivialise it as well? Perrin Aybara you are better than this.

“Well?” Perrin asked.

“No,” Morgase said.

Such a small, quiet thing, but it’s everything in the context of her story. That at last, after so many kinds of violation, after so many instances of her choice or her agency or her name or her will taken from her, she can say no. And she does.

It’s not precisely subtle but it’s also not precisely loud; it’s just a turning point and a reclaiming of self after so long of having that taken away from her. That now, she can stand as herself and say no, I will not.

She didn’t want to see the inevitable disappointment and rejection in Tallanvor’s face.

Which is the other reason you don’t just drag two people into a room and tell them to get married! Because even if they might want to marry each other, one or both might have some objections on principle to being told to do so! And then you’ve just created unnecessary tension in the relationship itself because now she’ll have to explain that ‘it’s not you, it’s that for once in my damn storyline I want to be able to give or deny consent of my own damn volition’.

I’m just very, very here for Morgase Trakand finally having a chance to stand up for herself and say no, because that has so long been denied to her in so many ways. And to find it in herself, even with all that has come before, to do that, because it would be so easy to just…accept it. But instead she stands her ground and in doing so, in asserting herself in front of someone else, it’s almost like asserting herself to herself as well. That she is here and she is someone and she has a choice and she will make it.

“Why, the Queen herself wouldn’t demand this!”

Ha. Okay, you’ve earned that one, I think.

“Forcing two people to marry because you’re tired of the way they look at one another? Like two hounds you intend to breed, then sell the pups?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“You said it nonetheless.”

Yeah, this is… very much not Perrin’s finest hour here.

Whereas for Morgase… everything about this carries so much more weight than meets the eye, given all she has been through, and I’m just very here for it.

Pulling herself up to her full height, she almost felt a queen again. “If I choose to marry a man, I will make that decision on my own.”

Reclamation of identity! In reclaiming all the choices that have been taken from her! So much of what came before, all those times she couldn’t choose, was just this long agonising process of stripping away everything she was and everything she could hold on to in herself. And she’s been so lost for so long, and so here, in claiming that choice again, she finds some part of herself again as well. She may no longer be a queen but it’s not really about the crown, it’s about feeling like herself again, and finding something there.

Really, Tallanvor, in this case it’s honestly not you; it’s… a whole pile of other things. Don’t take it personally.

Morgase measured Perrin, who was blushing. She softened her tone. “You’re young at this yet, so I’ll give you advice. There are some things a lord should be involved in, but others he should always leave untouched.”

I do like that we get this—it was important for Morgase to be able to draw a line and stand by it and say, unequivocally, no. And to make it very clearly understood why Perrin was crossing a line.

But she also acknowledges that there was no malice in it; it was fucking stupid, but he did mean well. So let him feel painfully awkward for a few minutes, let it sink in, and then grant him this to soften it.

Man, that was awkward.

I mean, again, absolutely here for Morgase finally getting to make a damn choice, but would kind of have preferred if it weren’t at the cost of Perrin being written into quite this level of uncomfortable idiocy. Which I suppose is part of why I’m glad it ends on that sense of ‘you meant well but no’, rather than letting it escalate.

Basically: great character moment for Morgase but overall not a particularly well-done scene, I feel like.

It seemed she had some spark left in her after all. She hadn’t felt that firm or certain of herself since… well, since before Gaebril’s arrival in Caemlyn!

That pretty much sums it up. She needed this, needed to find that within herself.

And now enter Whitecloaks, stage left. This’ll get interesting.

Next (ToM ch 7) Previous (ToM ch 5)

[foxrp]

faith into violence

FAITH INTO VIOLENCE

( TW CRIME, VIOLENCE, SEX WORK, FULL CRIMINAL ENTERPRISES )

the world is on fire. there’s no easy way to say that - to simplify the political ruins that encircles them all. every which way a new party erupts, a new route, more indecision and less decisiveness. in times like these, for some, it’s an opportunity. in the shadows, dark desires grip at your throat and pull your nearer, begging the question of what you would do if no one was watching, if not one would know. the world, in it’s derision of those with lives in the shadows who had yet to step into any of the many lights now before them, wasn’t watching. the ministry was overworked. everyone was worried about this group and that group and what they would be doing.

it started simple, at first. a speakeasy, tucked into a corner of knockturn alley. the spiny serpent, a place where you could only enter if you were permitted, a place for your wildest fantasies to come true. it was simple then, in the beginning, when it was small illegalities and minor crimes. but it was apparent, even then, that it was a breeding ground for greed and gluttony, for lust and envy, for all of the things they shouldn’t have been playing with. pandora’s box was opened without a second thought, so easy to dip your toes into the darkness after tasting its sweet side. the darkness almost didn’t seem so bad, at first.

if you had been stuck in the political battleground that they had been, you would have done it too. that was what they told themselves at first. you, in your arrogance and your greed and your need for more, more, more, would do exactly what they had done… wouldn’t you? wouldn’t you start what would become the underworld? it was something between mafia esteem and mob mentality, meeting a need for dark desires to be satiated even by those playing the part of goodness. as the needs and requests grew, they would find ways to satisfy all the vices of their clientele so long as the galleons kept coming. and knowing the consequences of what you were doing, of what it could become… wouldn’t you do anything to keep it secret? because that was the game they needed to play, and every new round it all got harder.

even now, a couple years since it all began, the underworld is a secret. those who know about it keep it covered and do not risk it being discovered because of what it could mean for them all. too many political games played at once, and too many with dirty secrets they had catered to by its creator and his crew.

in fact, in the time since the underworld was started, many have taken up leadership roles and stood to his side to keep the secrets, to enforce that one rule they all knew and didn’t have to say - what happens in the underworld stays there… or you do. the rumors are rampant, but even those high and mighty have dark needs in their blood, a secret they don’t want uncovered, a reason to keep those rumors squashed for their own safety, knowing the value of mystery with the ether out for blood. what happens in the shadows must stay there, for everyone’s sake… and, besides, weren’t there many so used to living in the dark?

notes

those who partake in the underworld can be of any group, any species, so long as they know that it is forever a secret. anything and everything that is done in the underworld can be used against its participants, and everyone who has entered knows this well. still, what started as petty crimes only, has extended to illegal activities of all types for all types of beings, so long as you know who to ask.

below is a listing of those in a leadership role in the underground, as well as a small section of information on each. for now, these are the only positions that will be marked as true participants in this subplot, though many may have those involved under them in one form or another. for those characters, we ask that each member who takes a participant listed here make their own ad and link us, so that we can add it as a way of entering the subplot should that be wished. additionally, if you plan to genderbend, make anyone nonbinary, shift things around, or even have an idea of adding a “sin” or “virtue” to the underworld, please pm staff so that we can approve this, as we would be willing to discuss all of these things. as a note, almost all dealings for the underworld take place in the spiny serpent, located in knockturn alley, due to how secure it is as a centralized location and how protected it is against outside eyes and spies. please keep this in mind. thank you!

PRIDE

MUST BE 30+, OPEN FACE 

the leader of this whole organization, the one who started it all - or did he? he may be the ruler in the underworld, but we all serve someone, we all answer to someone. here, pride holds all the power, or so he thinks. even the creator of the underworld has his secrets, and how long will it be before they catch up to him? how long can he keep the light at bay? for now, down where no one can identify him, he’s a king in his small corner, desperately keeping his shadows cast so he can reign.

HUMILITY

MUST BE 35+, OPEN FACE 

before the underworld began, humility was there. he was in the background, running something similar to the underworld in his home country. he was optimistic when it all came to be, tried to get involved with the political game in a way he truly believed in… and then tragedy struck, trauma left in its wake, and optimism fell away to a cynicism unlike any other. he lost it all, fell from grace, and went into hiding lest he lose his freedom as well. in a new country and under a different name, he is the advisor to pride, the one with experience and knowledge of what works and what could make it all go up in flames. he will not let them make his past mistakes. he will protect the underworld he has now, in a way he failed to with his own previously. he knows what it’s like to lose, and he will never risk it again.

ENVY

MUST BE 30+, OPEN FACE 

keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer. this is a mentality that pride knows well, and envy entered under that opinion. truth be told, everyone thought the two hated each other. a long history, fickle at its best, but there was no one in the world who knew pride better, either. envy was the one person who could really bring it down, and pride instead made them an ally. envy, ruler over their own sect in the underworld, puts on the show. they sort through what they need, what they don’t, what’s working, what isn’t, and works as pride’s mouth - the boss said, so get it done. they took to the power like moth to flame, but how long will it be until they want more? is risking something so advantageous worth the potential that they could cost it for them all?

KINDNESS

MUST BE 25+, OPEN FACE 

kindness is the one who comes before wrath has to, to offer a choice. she is the hunter, and many have been her prey, but wrath is her shot. she does not dirty her hands, because she doesn’t have to. she comes with a smile, and an unspoken threat on her lips, something dark behind her eyes as they watch you, as they follow you, as they tell you everything she doesn’t need to spell out in words. kindness is the redemption, for those who dare to stray, that you will wish you accepted should you not heed her meaning.

WRATH (reserved for robin)

MUST BE 20+, OPEN FACE 

war is all he knows, war and commanding respect. his life was war. his afterlife was war. he was gifted in destruction, in chaos, in enforcing the rules - and that was exactly what earned him his space in the underworld. where other were afraid he would go too far and refused him the authority he thought he deserved, pride fed into his arrogance, into his fury. keep it secret, don’t go too far, but put them in their place if they threaten us - wrath was the only man for the job, and his ego knew it.

PATIENCE

MUST BE 25+, OPEN FACE 

where wrath only knew war in body, patience only knew it in mind. she is all brains, the epitome of ‘work smart, not hard’. she is the watchful eye, the one who lets pride know of any who may become a problem, the one who sees every move. too brilliant for the main political arena, the underworld offers her something the surface couldn’t - secrets, shadows, and the power that comes from that. her little spies, bringing her all the information she might need. to the world, her exterior has never cracked, but to the shadows… well, just like her, the shadows see all.

SLOTH

MUST BE 25+, OPEN FACE 

while one brings sex, one brings objects, and another brings met desire, sloth brings nostrums for them all. drugs, off-limits potions, or anything else you could want outside of their realms? sloth can and will get it. he was once one of wizarding london’s best dealers, before a small jail stint took him out of the game. but pride remembered him. he had names of all walks of life underneath him, running deals of all sorts, and getting into the underworld meant expanding his business and his network, regaining footing after his world left him to rot. sure, he has a boss, but didn’t everyone? and at least this way he stayed boss of his underlings and a king in his own right - something the outside was threatening to take away before he joined, watchful eyes that pride could take care of. and sloth? he’s not the type to lose what he controls, volatile, greedy, moody, and king only to himself.

DILIGENCE

MUST BE 25+, OPEN FACE 

secrets travel fast, but diligence travels faster. a master of gossip, and leader of the art of a well told rumor. how better to squash suspicions than to run the rumor mill yourself? he is in charge of keeping secrets, and he is a master of the art of persuasion and blackmail above all others. and who would expect the one never taken seriously? petty gossip, no place in the real political arena, he was told - but pride saw something in him, and the devotion earned there isn’t something you can buy with fear or intimidation.

GREED

MUST BE 25+, OPEN FACE 

where chastity is the poster girl to keep attention off of them with her media darling friendly celebrity act, greed is the poster girl who gets attention and finds clientele. she is the girl who looks too good to talk to, the one who has never done a single interview - because she didn’t have to. a dark reputation even among those with lives of shadow, those who follow her always find themselves in back alleys all alone - before her whispers find their ears, asks them what their darkest desire is, and if they’re ready to have it fulfilled. she’s never had to do any of the real work, finding ways to fulfill needs, or working to seek anyone out. for her, they find her, and she delivers them to the underworld under the pretense of guidance. a pretense she is well aware is nothing more than a delusion.

CHARITY

MUST BE 30+, OPEN FACE 

when it all came to be, the first thing they needed was a place - and a basement. that was where pride brought in charity. to the surface, he’s a unique business owner, the spiny serpent with its gimmick entrance and beautiful windows, a place that has been around for ages and financed his lifestyle for longer than any really know. but to the underworld… he had built a hidden arena long before, soundproofed it, and kept the questions away under lies about renovating rooms and adding an expanded dance hall and big plans that never seemed to finish. the place itself is upstairs, on the second and third floors, but the ground floor has only one entrance and exit, heavily guarded and kept away from what he says is for their own safety, renovations and danger beware. a well designed cover up and a well kept secret, with a fortune at risk. and charity? he never even broke a sweat. after all… he had been building it long before pride even asked.

GLUTTONY

MUST BE 30+, OPEN FACE 

some supplies come at dark costs. there are some things even the shadows cannot give you, but gluttony? she is the one responsible for their harvest, and pride keeps her one of the closest to his chest. where chastity is his right-hand woman, gluttony is his heart itself. she is trusted to make calls when he is away, trusted to keep their secrets, trusted to run the game as she needs to in order to get what they need without too many questions. she knows the value of discretion, and she knows her worth in the underworld. anything you need, from vampires wanting fresh, willing blood sources to werewolf cage matches unlike any other to curses beyond your wildest dreams, she can find it, she can feed your needs. and she’s damned good at what she does.

TEMPERANCE (reserved for vanessa)

MUST BE 25+, OPEN FACE 

somewhere along the lines, the underworld expanded and new requests came. art, literature, artifacts, magical equipment, dark secrets lost to time - people wanted more and that was where temperance stepped in. on the outside, she’s the perfect woman, all smiles and pleasantries and perfection. but under all of that? she’s traded in dark and lost artifacts for years, has a collection unlike any other, and she knows how to tell a fake from a mile away after so much experience. she has mastered the art of the mask, and she stays close to the money matters of the underworld as well because of her expertise. after all, pay roll is complicated, but she’s been doing it since before any of them knew to include it, and she’s the master of a good bargain and a better sell.

LUST

MUST BE 30+, OPEN FACE 

as the underworld expanded, lust came to become a necessity. some vices are not quenched by objects, and different needs came to the surface. lust is the one who brought forth those willing and wanting - consent, of course, the most important thing for lust with their disciples, always willing to enforce strict punishment on any who even attempts to infringe upon it - to satisfy those carnal desires. they are the one who protects them, who finds them, who brings them to this new home. they pay them, clothe them, acts as friend, confidant, and family. and, as pride has always agreed, they have wrath on speed dial to ensure no one hurts their family.

CHASTITY (reserved for athena)

MUST BE 20+, OPEN FACE 

the celebrity poster girl who keeps the light that casts the shadows. dirty dealings going down in one building? she’ll show up next door, call all the attention, dance a little, smile a lot, maybe even do an interview - anything to keep the deal next door a secret. right-hand woman of pride himself, a secret few share to keep. even those of high rank don’t know her place in all of this, smiling like a good little girl and living her life in the light, to keep eyes on her and to keep other where where pride wants them: beneath him.

[cassguardia]

🍍, 🍒, 🍌, 🍓?

🍍  :    how comfortable is my muse in their body?  how do they feel about their height,  weight,  strength,  and body type?  how important is being attractive to them?   

Cass is generally comfortable in her body. Whatever she doesn’t like about her body she changes, whether it be through regular exercise or dyeing her hair (this makes her views on plastic surgery seem hypocritical, which in fact, it is). For the things she can’t change, like her height, she just tries to accept, though she secretly resents that people underestimate her for being on the smaller size. She instead uses it for her advantage, having learned how to use her body as a weapon.

As for being attractive, that doesn’t matter to her at all. Maybe it did at one point in her life, but after some failures in the department of love, she felt stupid for ever even considering it in the first place. On top of that, there is nothing she hates more than being hit on or cat called by men, so her fashion sense leans towards androgynous or masculine to keep herself as invisible to the male gaze as possible. While she enjoys wearing makeup sometimes, she always keeps it minimal as to not draw attention to herself.

🍒  :    how much does my muse value companionship?  do they constantly keep people around them,  or do they prefer to be alone often?  do they have or desire to have many friends?  do they see every meeting as an opportunity to make a new friend?   

Considering that Cass is...well, the way she is, one would think that she doesn’t value companionship. And they would mostly be right. But the reason she’s written off friendship is because they’re so hard for her to maintain. She’s just not a friendly person, she isn’t one for small talk, and her cynical quips are quick to hurt other people’s feelings. This has left her in a position where the only friendships that last are the ones with people who are incredibly patient with her, such as Rachel. The benefit to this is, if you last long enough to worm your way into Cass’s heart, she will remain incredibly loyal, protective, and show a softer side to her. This doesn’t happen very frequently, and she is used to and comfortable with being alone. She does not see any meeting as an opportunity to make a new friend.

🍌  :    is my muse inclined to help others,  or will they only do it when it benefits them,  if at all?  what makes them this way?  has it ever gotten them into trouble,  or inconvenienced them? 

A lot of people assume that because Cass can be so short-tempered and aloof at her job, that she’s only in it for herself and not here to help the people. But in actuality, Cass really does want to help people. Specifically, she wants to save people and bring criminals to justice. This is partially selfish, as she genuinely wants the accolades that comes from a deed like that, but she also doesn’t want to see anyone hurt and suffering. She wants people to be safe, sheltered, fed, and happy, and tends to have views on how that should be done. That’s why she can seem so cynical while on the job, because she has a vision of how one can live a “good” life and gets frustrated when people aren’t doing that.

This is largely because she was raised by a good but conservative cop. Richard Guardia became a cop because he wanted to help people, but truly believes that people are only successful when they help themselves. He, however, was more patient and had better people skills than his daughter. So he would help someone out before giving them advice and resources on how to keep something from happening again. This is what made him the well beloved cop that he was. Cass is trying to follow in his footsteps, but is more quick to snap and yell than politely explain something. This has gotten her into trouble basically her entire life, from her childhood to her desperate attempts to raise higher in the ranks than “trainee” in her career.

🍓  :    how is my muse typically seen by others?  does it ring true to who they really are?  does their reputation matter to them? 

Most people see Cass as a sarcastic, grumpy, angry, bratty kid trying entirely too hard to make it in an adult’s world. In that regard, they aren’t that far off. Still, there is more to Cass than meets the eye, it just takes some effort to get past that initial prickly exterior. She is all of those things listed above but she’s also ambitious, cunning, intelligent, protective, and dedicated. Those are the things she wants to be known for, but she needs to put more effort into overcoming her obvious flaws.

Reputation is extremely important to her. She knows she’s not being taken seriously in almost any department in her life and is doing everything she can to try and change that. She wants to have a reputation similar to her father, a well beloved and respected cop. It’s going to take work and even maybe some self reflection, but she’s going to do whatever it takes to get there.

[popwasabi]

What “The Dark Knight” says about our bad politics

Waaay back in the summer of 2008, me and my dad drove up to Northern California to attend San Jose State University’s freshman orientation.

It was a long drawn out process where first-year students basically were told and shown a bunch of things they would forget and relearn by their first day anyways and culminated with all of us spending one night in the campus dorms so we could all get a taste of the “campus life” experience.

I wanted it to end badly for a couple reasons. Being an introvert, I was not comfortable sharing a room with anyone, let alone a stranger, for a night but more importantly, I was being kept from the biggest movie premiere of the year that day: “The Dark Knight.”

As soon as I woke up the next morning, I rushed my dad to find the nearest theater and purchased tickets immediately for a late-night screening. I was already a huge fan of “Batman Begins” but every trailer to Christopher Nolan’s epic follow-up indicated we were in for an even bigger blockbuster than before and I was beyond pumped.

(Me getting the fuck off campus to watch “The Dark Knight” that day.)

Two and a half hours later I left the theater blown away by the experience. “The Dark Knight” was everything, at the time, I was hoping for in a comic book movie; angsty, dark, edgy (all things I thought I was as a teen), cinematically sharp, thrilling, a fantastic score once again by the legendary Hans Zimmer, and fulfilled just about every fanboy wet dream I had at the time for a perfect Batman movie.

To this day it remains the most satisfying theatrical experience I’ve ever had seeing a movie, not that it’s my favorite movie of all-time anymore, mind you, but that I have never gone into a movie with such high expectations and had them blown away quite like that since.

(Conversely, this^ was my most disappointing experience...)

I’m a different person now, of course. If you were to wipe my memory of the film and had to watch it again today I doubt I would have the same fanboygasm I had then as the cynical 30-year-old I am now but I’ll argue that “The Dark knight” still remains a high mark, if not the standard, for comic book movies today.

That said, parts of this film have definitely not aged well. Visually the film still holds up, the action is still exciting, the performances are all stellar (though Bale’s Batman voice is still bad) but what hasn’t aged well, for me, are the movie’s politics.

“The Dark Knight” is, of course, a post 9/11 movie, in fact, it’s arguably the definitive one as its pop-cultural footprint dwarfs pretty much all within its sub-genre. This Nolan sequel deals heavily in themes of terrorism with its iconic villain The Joker, played maniacally by the late great Heath ledger, wreaking havoc across Gotham with various explosive devices. Though the Clown Prince is more an anarchist than someone with an ideology, like those in Al Qaeda or the Taliban, the results of his beliefs/non-beliefs are more or less the same; cause pandemonium and fear in the masses. Batman, representing the power of justice and order, does battle with this in a war to save Gotham’s soul and again this is still a damn entertaining and thrilling story.

(Seriously, it’s still a rock solid entry in the comic book movie genre.)

But where the film’s 9/11 politics become problematic is toward the end of the film when the Joker begins his final act to plunge Gotham into unstoppable chaos. Batman becomes desperate; The Joker has eluded him at every turn, always two steps ahead of him, escaping justice no matter what Bruce Wayne does so he concocts a plan to finally to locate and stop the Joker for good.

He creates an elaborate sonar system using every cell phone in Gotham, effectively creating a massive surveillance state to spy on its citizens in order to locate the Joker.

(And it’s the only time we have ever got the real Batman eyes on screen, damn it!)

Lucius Fox, played by Morgan Freeman, appropriately calls this out telling him he’s wrong and that he cannot support this but Batman insists that it’s the only way. Fox reluctantly agrees and tells him he’ll resign once this is over as he can’t morally support such a system. The sonar, of course, works and Batman is able to stop the Clown Prince once and for all and upon Fox entering his name into the sonar computer the program dissolves and is deleted presumably for good.

This is of course to wash Batman’s hands of this deed to the audience. Our protagonist knows this is wrong, the audience is told it is wrong but by ending the surveillance he shows he would never abuse such a program, that sometimes good men have to do terrible things to defeat evil and that makes it ok.

For years, as a bleeding heart liberal (at the time) who grew up in the Bush years but loved the hell out of this movie, I tried to reconcile with this part of the story because Batman was the hero. I thought maybe this kind of action is ok because if the “good guy” is in charge bad stuff is fine because he/she won’t abuse such power. That’s real justice, right?

The problem is in the real world, at the top, there really aren’t any good guys and they are counting on you to believe that they are when they get a hold of such power because that’s how we are programmed.

The Patriot Act, which was the signature Bush-era reform post 9/11, created our current surveillance state. In the interest of national security and ensuring those “dern turrists don’t go killing lil’ Timmy riding his tricycle out in Des Moines, Iowa” our elected leaders, both republican and democratic (make no mistake), effectively signed away our constitutional rights to “ensure our safety” by spying on us basically without warrants. The proponents proudly claimed its necessity in fighting the “War on Terrorism” and those naysayers either shouldn’t worry “if you have nothing to hide” or worse were un-American Taliban sympathizers.

For progressives, of course, this was an evil violation of our civil liberties but for many conservatives, this wasn’t a big deal. They are just trying to keep us safe after all. 

But conveniently ignored by many on the left still today is the complicity they had in bringing about this era in warrantless surveillance. Yes, this policy started under Bush, of course, but it continued to be re-upped through the Obama administration and the Trump administration, not to mention revolving majorities in the House and Senate, showing no matter who was in charge they all liked the idea of keeping an eye on all of us with or without reason.

Considering the Patriot Act was made to win the “War on Terrorism” our leaders were never going to relinquish this power anyways because you can’t win a war on terrorism. Terrorism is not a country or a people, it’s an ideology behind many different ideologies. The US, no matter how you see it, be it as liberators or oppressors, will always have enemies and that’s all the reason they need to keep this power it seems.

Having the data on our lives mined like oil can easily be used against us in a variety of ways regardless of if any of us have terroristic or even criminal intentions. But for many in this country, it was only a problem if the wrong guy wielded that power. As soon as their “good guy” got in though, suddenly it was no big deal. I wonder why...

“The Dark Knight” puts forth a problematic view on who can and should wield supreme power, that even terrible choices can be made as long as the “right” person is the one making them.

Liberals are notorious for justifying them when it’s one of them who does it.

It’s a lie. A lie that both parties use to their advantage because they want you believe everything they do can be justified because you happen to be a part of their party; the “good guys” once again. But there is something extra cynical about the way liberals wield it as they parade themselves around as paragons and moral pillars against the Jokers of the Republican party.

For all the platitudes liberals give, that would make some superhero speeches seem benign, they wear masks about as well as the vigilantes do but not for the same reasons. When confronted by this blatant hypocrisy, liberal voters justify all kinds of horrible things as long as the other “bad guy” isn’t the one doing it. For all the shit Bush gets, and rightfully so, for plunging us into a military, financial, and humanitarian quagmire in the Middle East, Obama gets almost zero real pushback by liberals for effectively drone bombing the hell out of the same people. During these past three years Trump has more or less allowed ICE to run rampant on immigrant communities sure and liberals have been critical, again as they should, but who made the cages they were thrown into and who deported more of them during his first three years in office than Trump did?

(And once again, and I can’t emphasize this enough, Andrew Cuomo is NOT your fucking friend...)

Liberals often like to present themselves as the moral purveyors of good in the face of conservative opposition and they use it to their advantage to more or less do many of the same foul things those with R’s next to their name do. Sure, not all their actions are equally as evil but even then, we rarely truly hold either of our leaders feet to the fire because we believe their actions are somehow better because they have a “D” next to their name.

These horrific policies and actions will never see justice as long as we keep justifying them because the “right” person is behind them.

No, this is not an all sides are equally bad take. That discussion requires more nuance and for a different time, but I will say both sides are varying degrees of bad that should be taken seriously instead of not at all and can’t be pushed aside again and again and again because “the other guys are worse.” 

We are running into the same situation today as our presidential election features a credibly accused rapist, sexual predator, who supports Bush-era tax cuts, who takes money from major corporate lobbyists, who is against Medicare for All, has open disdain for millenials, and not only supports but openly bragged about the aforementioned The Patriot Act.

Hmmm, sounds an awful lot like someone we know, huh?

You could argue that one of these two men mitigates, or even vastly mitigates, harm if in office and I’m not here to necessarily scold you for making what you feel is morally the least awful choice but the point still remains; we are justifying evil again because our “good guy” is in charge.

Being liberal, just on its own, does not vastly minimize the problematic nature of a bad person.

Regardless of how you feel about this election and what choice you plan to make this November (and again, I’m not here to tell you what to do), bad things and bad policies will be continued to be enacted by bad people because that’s what choices we’ve been given. There isn’t a good one and the most vulnerable will be hurt the most by it regardless of who wins. There is a reason so many are disillusioned with voting and it’s not just voter suppression laws.

I can already hear some of you screaming “OH MER GERD pURiTy TeStS,” but this is far more cynical a standard we have than simply choosing a less than perfect candidate. Many are already making rather tone-deaf comments about people being “privileged” for choosing not to compromise their morals anymore. What’s “privileged” is voting for the guy who will do less harm for you but ultimately still disproportionately harm more people of color no matter who is in office.  

(The country and the world can really begin to truly heal when a Democrat is in charge of one of these Freedom Machines once again!)

Yes, I might agree that one is probably a net positive for the world at this point but to act like someone choosing to not participate anymore in what is effectively a never-ending cycle I can’t say I blame them either. At some point, our society has to draw a real line in the sand on these things with our leaders and force a more moral standard for our government instead of the status quo.

We can’t go on this endless “pragmatic” path picking “the lesser of two evils” until we gradually just become evil. You can make the argument that maybe the time isn’t now, and you might be right but when? These folks at the top are COUNTING on us accepting circumstances and justifying terrible beliefs and actions over and over again because of the state of our politics.

“The Dark Knight” believes that sometimes bad things must be done to defeat evil but the real world can be so much less cynical if we stopped compromising on our beliefs. It’s not entirely too late for us to do the right thing. We can’t go on forever letting bad behavior go because the “good guy” will be the one doing it instead of the other one.

Taking money from corrupt billionaires is wrong. Extra-judicially drone bombing the Middle East endlessly is wrong. Throwing migrants in cages like fucking animals is wrong. Rape and sexual assault are wrong. Mass warrantless surveillance is wrong. Doesn’t matter if its Batman or fucking Superman doing any of these things; immoral behavior cannot and should not be ever justified.

Otherwise, we really will live long enough to see ourselves become the villain...

Looking forward to the comments on this one...

[andorerso]

For the anon who asked for more of the bodyguard AU with angst and pining, here it is! It’s a follow-up to this fic but you don’t have to read that in order to understand this. Enjoy!

Cassian has never been a fan of these parties. They’re crowded, phony, and way too extravagant. A charity ball, they call it, but it’s just an excuse for the rich to flaunt their money and feel important while wearing gowns and tuxedos worth thousands of dollars. They act like dearest friends and exchange cheek kisses and politely wonder “how’s the family?” then turn around and gossip behind their backs the next minute. It’s not an effort for Cassian to play along, it’s in his blood – but he hates it with a passion.

That being said, Jyn does look magnificent in her gradient blue gown that leaves her shoulders bare and shows a little more cleavage than usual, even if she clearly hates wearing it. It’s more practical for her to blend in with the other upper-class guests than openly pose as his bodyguard and Cassian is a bit grateful for that. He likes her presence, he really does, but he occasionally he feels like a child in need of protecting from the big bad world. A break is nice, sometimes.

And if his eyes linger on her a little longer than it should, well. That’s both an advantage and a drawback. He really needs to get over this stupid crush he has on his bodyguard, but he can use that attraction and channel the pent-up frustration into flirting with this lovely woman in front of him who’s attainable and clearly willing. Unlike Jyn, who’s his bodyguard, so they can’t, and who doesn’t see him that way, so they can’t.

The woman’s name is Melanie, she’s an heiress, and she’s a lot more tolerable than most of the guests here combined. Will it go anywhere? No, but at least he can distract himself for one night, and since he and Jyn are not supposed to be interacting much, he has to make do with the next best thing. Melanie is smart and Cassian finds himself laughing at some of her jokes (even if they’re gentle and not the dry sarcastic wit he’s used to) and he doesn’t absolutely hate it when she strokes a finger up his arm and sends him a flirty smile.

Jyn, apparently, does.

Cassian could feel her eyes on him all night – it’s part of her job description – but since he began talking to Melanie, it’s been less a watchful gaze, and more a persistent glare. He’s been trying to ignore it; if you ask him, she’s way too paranoid for her own good. Last week, she shouted at the mailman for Heaven’s sake, and he was only bending down to tie his shoelaces. Cassian can imagine the scenarios she’s probably dreaming up in her head about the thousand ways Melanie could kill him.

It’s all a little too grave for him; he’s not going to get attacked every time he crosses the street. But Jyn takes her job very seriously, and he’s grateful, really, but he wishes she’d give him some breathing room sometimes. Like now, when all he’s trying to do is talk to a pretty lady who has no intentions of murdering him in a quiet corner.

Most likely.

The arm touching seems to be the last straw and Jyn marches over, setting down the glass of champagne that she’s been pretending to drink.

“Darling,” she begins, and Cassian’s eyes grow huge. Before he could react, she slips an arm into his. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you. My mother held me up on the phone but I’m all yours now. And you are?”

She asks it so politely that it almost feels like an insult.

Melanie watches them with raised eyebrows, sending an incredulous glare in Cassian’s direction when he turns to look at her. At the question in her eyes, he just sighs. There’s really no point in trying to salvage this anymore.

“Melanie,” she answers with a tight-lipped smile when he doesn’t say anything. “I was just leaving.”

The look, before she goes, is one that says she thinks Cassian is just like the others; lying and manipulative. He watches her walk away with a twinge of regret then rounds on Jyn when she’s out of earshot.

“What the hell?” he glowers, voice low enough that only Jyn would hear.

She shrugs, absolutely unapologetic. “She was getting way too handsy. Didn’t trust her.”

Cassian looks around, feeling too exposed out in the open with all the guests milling around. They’re not even supposed to be talking. Taking Jyn’s arm, he steers them to a quiet corner next to the balcony doors.

“You’re acting crazy.”

“I’m your bodyguard,” she says like she says it every time. Like it trumps everything. Cassian is a little sick of it. Granted, she’s never chased away attractive women before, but she’s certainly chased away people. Friendly harmless people. The mailman was replaced after the incident last week. “It’s my job to protect you.”

He gives her a glare, half-frustrated, half-incredulous. 

“She was flirting with me,” he tells her, keeping his voice low so they don’t draw attention to themselves. The anger is still clear in his tone. “She wasn’t trying to slit my throat.”

“You don’t know that,” she snaps, just as annoyed. Like she has any right to be, after pulling that stunt. “Seduction is a common tactic.”

“Oh, really?” he says, his voice disbelieving to his own ears.

Jyn’s eyes darken. She steps closer. “Oh, really. You want me to show you?”

“Please, do,” he says on instinct, too angry to back down. His voice is a challenge and Jyn quirks an eyebrow at him, almost pleased.

When she takes a step forward, he’s still glaring. Then she touches his hand like Melanie had, teasingly running her fingers up his arm, and it occurs to him that he didn’t really think this through. The look she turns his way is coy, playful, her eyes unnervingly dark and wanting.

What –

Cassian is surprised by the fierce intensity of her gaze. It barely registers that she’s pretending as she leans in towards him, her lips grazing his neck, her breath hot on his skin. A shudder runs through him. She smells so good. Jyn tilts her head and their lips almost meet, close enough that he can nearly taste her. Her eyes are on him and he can’t look away; like a moth drawn to a flame, he’s sucked in by her mere presence.

“You’re really handsome, you know that?” she says, voice low and captivating. He pretty much loses all train of thought.

And just when he thinks she’s about to kiss him –

She has a knife against his throat.

“You’re dead,” she says, her tone now matter-of-fact and cold.

Cassian swallows. For God’s sake.

“Put that thing away before someone sees it,” he manages to get out, though his voice is raspy and deep. He clears his throat.

Jyn obeys with a shrug. She gives him a look, the same intensity from before but without the heated lust. He wonders if he imagined it – or worse, if it really was just pretend.

“You believe me now?”

Cassian looks away, taking a second to compose himself. He doesn’t want her to see how affected he is, by her, by her touch, by her gaze, by her closeness. It goes beyond her simply trying to seduce him; it’s not a physical thing, not completely. He refuses to admit it, even to himself, how deep his feelings for her run.

And a part of him wants to argue, wants to tell her that not every woman who flirts with him is going to want to stab him in the back – doesn’t she have any faith in him attracting people just because they find him interesting? – but he can’t bring himself to it. Can’t be around her right now.

“You made your point,” he allows her instead, nodding, trying not to sound too curt. It doesn’t quite work. “I think I should go mingle,” he says, noting the way other guests are beginning to glance their way in curiosity. The last thing he wants is to give these people reason to gossip about him.

He leaves Jyn with only the briefest look and doesn’t notice the way she turns to stare after him wistfully.

Cassian throws the newspaper on the table with an angry huff. Jyn stares at him, her arms crossed, slightly defensive. He wishes he wasn’t about to ruin her day too.

They’ve barely talked in the past two days since the ball and now this. This is going to set them back for at least another week.

“It’s all over the magazines,” he says, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Who is Cassian Andor’s new secret girlfriend?”

He taps his finger against the picture taken of them. It’s far away, the zoom-in making the picture blurry, but Cassian’s face is still visible from this angle. Jyn has her back to the camera, practically wrapped around his body, deemed “the mysterious brunette” by tabloids. It’s likely one of the waiters noticed them snuggled up in the corner and took a quick snap with their phone, then contacted tabloids as soon as possible. Though it was taken out of context, Cassian has to admit they look quite cozy on the photo – the media is having a field day with it.

Jyn stares at the picture in horror, her arms falling from her chest as she leans closer to take a good look. Immediately, her defensive look is replaced by one of guilt.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head, looking up at him. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I should have known better.” Cassian slumps down on the couch, rubbing a tired hand across his face. He’s silent for a second, trying to look on the bright side. He’s not sure there is any. “It’ll blow over in a while.”

Jyn shakes her head, lost in her own head.

“This isn’t like me,” she says, desperation sneaking into her voice. She seems to be talking to herself, rather than him. Cassian frowns, sitting up straighter as he sees her beginning to spiral.

“Will the agency be mad?” he asks, wondering if this puts her in trouble with her boss. Jyn doesn’t appear to hear him.

“This isn’t like me,” she repeats. Her eyes snap up to him and he sees fear and panic in her gaze. His stomach twists uncomfortably. “I can’t be your bodyguard anymore.”

“What?” Cassian cries, jumping up from his seat.

She stands too, taking a step backwards. “I’m sorry. I have to resign.”

“What are you talking about, why?”

“It’s for the best,” she says only, and before he knows it, she’s struggling in her hurry to put on her jacket. Cassian stares at her in horror and confusion.

“The hell it is – Jyn, you can’t seriously think that.”

He hears a twinge of anger creep into his voice, masking the fear squeezing at his heart. He has no idea what’s happening, why she’s acting this way, but he doesn’t particularly like the thought of her leaving. Leaving him. Without so much as an explanation.

Is this only because of the picture?

“Trust me, Cassian…” She finishes pulling on her jacket and stops to give him a look begging him to forgive her. “You don’t know what I really think. And that’s why I have to go.”

What?

“You’re not making any sense,” he says, voice rising in his desperation. She pays him no mind.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, for the thousandth time, and are those tears shining in her eyes? Cassian is dumfounded. He’s never seen her cry, not once. The closest he thinks she got it was when he was shot and bleeding in her arms.

Somehow, that makes him feel a terror he’s never quite felt before. If she’s crying, it must really be bad. She really means this.

“I’ll make sure you get someone good,” she says, voice a whisper, before she turns around and heads for the door. Cassian has no time to wrap his head around it; he starts after her, driven by a primitive instinct to make her stay.

“Wait, Jyn.” He reaches out a hand but stops when she turns around, giving him a pleading look.

“Please, don’t follow me,” she says and Cassian stills. How could he disobey that? He can’t chase after her if she truly wants to go.

But his face remains pleading, one last look begging her to stay, before she turns around and walks out the door.

[worddevdealswithml]

Failed Step 1 (And 2 (And 3))

Chapter 14: One Loose End

What had it been?

Annoyance?

Revelation?

Desperation?

 Kagami didn’t quite know.

Annoyance… Well, certainly, Chloe’s behavior during the movie had been annoying, but, surely, no more annoying than usual. More… prolonged, perhaps, but Kagami could fight for hours on end without growing tired, and there was no reason that that should change just because the fight was less physical than fencing.

Revelation…  She would, of course, have admitted that if Chloe hadn’t dismissed Marinette, Kagami wouldn’t have had the idea to dismiss her, but…  Perhaps it was inspiration, but she didn’t feel as if some deeper idea had suddenly bloomed in her mind.

Desperation…  Well. Kagami would never admit to desperation, even to herself.  Her speed of action, and… perhaps even impulsiveness, was a simple matter of knowing what she wanted from the world, and acting on her desires.  Even if it had seemed that, for once, Chloe had left the room having gained back some of her lost ground, it would not have made Kagami desperate.

So… Why?

Why stop fighting her?

There was, of course, a small voice at the back of her head, muttering about a nameless fear, but…

Kagami ignored it.

…

For the first day after the premier, Kagami didn’t even consider the question; why bother?  What mattered was that she’d ended the fight, and, importantly, she’d done it on her terms, in a position of strength.

And, if her thoughts kept toying with snappy comebacks to lines Chloe couldn’t use anymore…  Well, that was just momentum.  She ignored them.

…

When the weekend arrived, Kagami took advantage of the time to send back the shower supplies that Chloe had left behind, with an appropriate note:

‘Dear Chloe,

I am surprised that, in your obvious displays of greed, and excessive attention to your physical presentation, that you failed to recover these items, which satisfy both desires.  I trust that this package arrives in time that you have not entered hysteria over your missing property.

-Tsurugi, Kagami’

The words didn’t sound like her own, but that was because she simultaneously had the time to choose her words, and she had been taught a great many things about writing formal letters.  The bit of her training she was drawing on right now was the one that said that even the sharpest words, delivered correctly, would appear almost polite to anyone but their intended recipient.

She wondered, vaguely, whether Chloe would even read it. Who knew; she might even offer some kind of response to it.

Imagine it; Chloe walked up, with some carefully prepared line, calculated to draw blood.

What would she even say…?

Probably something about how Kagami should have kept them, as a matter of… personal hygiene?  Mm… Then maybe add something about how it was pointless to send it back, since she was rich.

Kagami almost couldn’t help chuckling.  She could hear it.

And then…  Oh, surely there was some ready response, even if it took her a second to find it when she wasn’t in the moment.

Oh, of course; all she had to say was that it was a matter of principle; not to return it would be tantamount to theft, even if it would be incalculably petty theft.

As for the personal hygiene thing…

There had to be some line she could say about how smelling sweet didn’t make anyone think she was anything but rotten inside.

Seriously; everybody already knew she was Queen Bee, and they knew what she was really like, so what was the point of trying to smell like honey?  Well… Kagami assumed it was supposed to evoke thoughts of honey.  All it really seemed likely to do was make her more likely to get eaten when there was an Akuma that did actual zombies.

Hmm…

Actually, considering that, by Kagami’s limited pop-culture knowledge, zombies preferred actual meat, Chloe would actually be in more danger from the kissing variety of zombies.

She shook her head.

This snappy response had gone off on a tangent, and had, as such, ceased to be snappy.

…

It was Tuesday.

Kagami had returned from school, from a thoroughly unsatisfying round of sparring; Adrien had done well enough, but her other enemies had seemed practically lethargic.

She still needed a shower, but…

Something at her desk caught her eye; a small package, with a letter attached.

Oh, this would be good for a laugh.

Package first or letter first?

Definitely package first.

Inside…

Kagami sighed, shaking her head, not quite able to help some tiny amusement.

It was the same shampoo bottle she’d sent to Chloe, down to the lower level inside, with, placed neatly around the opening…

A golden band, like someone might put around their wrist, or… No, wait, she remembered; Chloe used something just like this to keep her hair in its ponytail.

Kagami didn’t have enough hair to effectively keep it in a ponytail; certainly not with something so loose.  This ‘gift’ was meant as a piece of useless metal.

And the message?  She pulled it open, and saw, at the top, her own name, in what must have been Chloe’s best cursive; in fairness, she’d clearly been taught well.

‘Kagami,

I hardly see the point in returning a set of items that were clearly meant as a generous gift, unless I have overestimated your to take the obvious hint that you could benefit from taking steps against the stench that I can only assume is the result of your compulsive fencing.

Under the assumption that this is the case, I have taken the liberty of returning the shampoo, along with one of my signature hairbands, in the hopes that the next time I encounter you, you will smell better than you look, and look marginally better than you did.

-C. Bourgeois’

Kagami, who hadn’t even sat down, stood up straight again, laughing aloud at the insult, despite the fact that she hadn’t yet come up with a proper response.

‘Stench?’  And returning two items that were clearly meant to serve no greater purpose than to take up space in Kagami’s room, or else be thrown away, in clear violation of the etiquette for gifts.

Well…

Let Chloe offer her ‘useless gifts.’  Kagami had no intent of letting them be useless.

She grabbed the contents of the package, and set off towards the shower.

Time to brutally call Chloe’s bluff.

[youngster-monster]

Day fourteen // Vibrant

(five times someone asked Petra out and one time she said yes)

1. Uldren Sov

It starts, as most bad things in her life, with Uldren.

They cross path as she’s going to the throne room and he’s exiting it. He looks tense and aggravated, so whatever discussion he just had with his sister must not have gone the way he wanted. She nods at him, careful to remain neutral. When he’s like this he tends to relieve his anger on anyone passing by and she’s not about to get into a row with him of all people. Not today.

He seems to completely ignore her, striding past with a thunderous look on his face. She’s about to enter the throne room when she hears him say,

“Venj.”

She sighs quietly and turns around. “Sov.”

He squints at her like he’s trying to make out something written on her face. Like she’s an anomaly he wants to pick apart. The scrutiny makes unease crawl down her back. Uldren’s focus is rarely a good thing.

“Are you free tonight?”

That’s… not what she expected him to ask.

“Huh- no?” She says, puzzled.

He purses his mouth. “Fine. Good. Whatever.”

She watches him go, confused, then shrugs and enters the throne room to give the Queen her report.

2. Cayde-6

“Roses are red, killing Fallen is easy, you shoot like a goddess, will you go out with me?”

Petra almost — almost — misses her next shot. That’s how surprised she is by Cayde’s words.

She turns and throws him a horrified look. She hopes it firmly conveys the what the fuck echoing in her mind.

Cayde ejects his empty magazine with a flick of his wrist and winks at her.

She gestures mutely at the battle going on around them, frowning. “Not the time? Or place?”

He shrugs. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

She reloads her sidearm with more force than strictly necessary. He seems to get the message and goes back to shooting as if nothing happened.

Once the fight is over he leans next to her, somehow giving off the strong impression of waggling his eyebrows.

“Don’t,” she warns.

“Roses are red, we got lots of glimmer, I like you as a friend, wanna get drinks later?”

She rolls her eyes she’s afraid she might sprain something. “You’re buying.”

“You know what? That’s fair. Deal.”

3. The Spider

Mara told her to be cordial to the Spider. Polite. Nice, even, if she could manage it.

She forgot to mention that he’s a massive creep. Even for a Fallen.

“You are quite beautiful for an Awoken,” he says in what she thinks is his ‘seductive voice’. “Clever, too. I’m sure we could find some way to entertain each other.”

She gives him one good long look then turns on her heels and leaves the way she came without a word. She didn’t even ask him for the supplies she had been asked to get from him.

“There are advantages to having four arms,” he calls out after her with a chuckle.

Yup. The Techeuns will have to find some other way to get their rare ingredients, because she is not going back in there without a a very, very good reason.

4. Razel

Petra likes Razel. She really does. He’s fun, he’s easy to get along with, he’s cute in a dumb dog kind of way.

But if she hears a single other pickup line from him she won’t hesitate to jettison him out of the airlock.

“Hey, are you a Vandal? ‘Cause I’ve fallen for you.”

She gently hits her head against the control panel of her ship, wondering why she let herself be convinced to let him hitch a ride after his own ship got blown to pieces.

“Are you Oryx? ‘Cause I’m taken with you.”

“Dude, too soon.”

He makes an apologetic noise. For a few blessed minutes, everything is quiet. Then…

“Are you a Sunsinger? Because you are looking radiant today!”

She groans and resists the urge to hit his head against the control board. Though this one is kinda cute, actually. He must sense she hates it less than the previous ones, because he says,

“C’mon, I will be a Solar Grenade and illuminate your life!”

It’s ridiculous. She gives in to her base instinct and reaches out to slap him behind the head.

“Is there actually anything you’re trying to accomplish with this or did Cayde just. Put you up to this to drive me to an early grave?”

“Huh- I forgot, to be honest. He did give me a list of those, though.”

He waves a slip of paper. She snatches it out of the air and crumples it in her hand, glaring daggers at him. Razel lifts his hands in surrender.

He’s smiling, his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Oh, shut up.”

5. Amrita Vae

Amrita has been a Corsair for a long time. She enjoys it. She’s proud of it.

Sometimes she wishes she wasn’t one, though.

Mostly because being a Corsair means having Petra Venj has a direct superior, and she takes the chain of command very seriously.

“I mean, maybe we could- I mean-” She clears her throat, painfully aware of the blush rising to her cheeks, but doesn’t look away from Petra as she speaks. “Drinks? Eventually? Once this is over.”

Petra shakes her head with a slight, kind of sad smile. “I’m your commanding officer, it wouldn’t be right. Even if,” she adds when she sees Amrita ready to reply, “you are the one doing the asking.”

“Oh.”

“But I won’t say no to drinks once this Dreaming City disaster is dealt with. As friends.”

She speaks before she can change her mind.

“And if I wasn’t under your command?”

But Petra only shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m already… waiting for someone else.”

“Oh.”

Petra pats Amrita’s shoulder, friendly rather than the flirty she’s desperately hoping for.

Her skin is still prickling from the contact as she watches the Regent-Commander walks away, and all she can think is,

Who could be so amazing for Petra Venj to wait for them?

+1. Mara Sov

The Queen is terrible and beautiful, otherworldly in a way that makes Petra’s heart rises to her throat. She’s known Mara for what feels like all her life, been under he command for years, but her sight still makes her breath stutter out of her chest like she’s a teenager with a crush.

She tries to not let it get in the way of her work. Most times, she thinks she’s managing it well.

Then Mara will do something awful like die and come back and she’ll remember what it feels like to be afraid of how much you love someone.

Her eyes are beautiful, Petra thinks distantly, frozen in place by the piercing gaze. She swallows, hard, straightens to her full height and folds her hands behind her back.

“Yes, my Queen?”

“My dear Emissary,” Mara says with surprising fondness. “My strong, beautiful Emissary. Did you know that in the dark of the Ascendant Plane, you were the only one I saw in the full colors of life?”

Petra isn’t… quite sure what ‘full colors of life’ means, but she guesses it has something to do with the bright pink dye she uses on her armor.

She chokes out a, “I didn’t, my Queen.”

They’re equal in height. It feels like Petra should be that much smaller than her Queen, for how she looms over all of them like a careless god.

Mara leans forward until her breath ghosts over Petra’s skin.

“My vibrant, loyal Emissary,” she says, and Petra feels the shape of the words against her lips more than she hears them. “What wouldn’t you do, for me?”

It’s not a question, at least not one expecting a response.

Petra answers it anyway, and bridges the gap between them, what little space is left separating them, and kisses her Queen.

[frenchcirce]

Pride, Narcissism and Prejudice- chapter 30

"Oh my poor nerves! Lord Hara! Lord Hara!"

Lady Hara's shouts resounded throughout the house, making her husband look up from his correspondence in mild irritation.

Mai and Masako, who had taken advantage of the lady's excursion in town to sit with their father in the morning room, stopped their embroidery to share a look of surprise. Lady Hara's usually came back from her stroll with fresh gossip. What sort of news could she have heard to be riled up so early in the day?

The lady appeared in the doorframe, her complexion an unhealthy shade of puce, clutching her heart in an apoplectic manner.

"Lord Hara, Masako, there you are! Oh this is terrible, terrible!"

The sisters' curiosity morphed into alarm at the sight of their mother. Masako got up immediately to help her sit down while Mai rang the bell to call for Jenkins. Both were used to the theatrics, but Lady Hara seemed genuinely affected this time, panting and struggling for air.

"What happened my dear?" Lord Hara asked, quite startled himself by his wife's state of disarray.

The lady slumped ungracefully on the chair Masako was leading her to, fanning herself uselessly with her handkerchief.

"You will not believe it. I have-" Her head bobbed right and left in utter desolation -" terrible news to share!"

"Mother, I beg of you, do tell us what is affecting you so greatly!" Masako implored, growing more and more agitated herself.

The timid voice of Jenkins dared interrupt the pandemonium.

"You rang miss?" she asked Mai hesitantly, staring wide-eyed at her usually scary but currently weeping employer, who was very uncharacteristically half sprawled on her chair.

"Indeed, please fetch a cup of tea for Lady Hara immediately," Mai commanded, leaving it to Lord Hara and Masako to try to wrangle a coherent explanation out of her mother. "Oh, and add some brandy to it," she added after a worried glance at the lady.

Jenkins bowed and promptly left. As soon as she passed the door Lady Hara started crying.

"Oh my poor Masako," she sobbed. "The Yasuharas…"

The mention of their friends had the two sisters gasp in horror, fearing for their friends' wellbeing. Were they ill, or did they suffer some accident? Even Lord Hara frowned, concerned.

"The Yasuharas?" he prompted, the room suddenly very still.

Lady Hara hammered her answer through ragged exhales and sobs. "They... They left Netherfield... just... yesterday!"

Masako and Mai released the breath they had been holding and stared at her mother reproachfully for giving them such a scare.

Lord Hara's concern vanished immediately before the lack of actual catastrophe. "Is that all?" he asked in disbelief. "You had me fear someone was on his deathbed! The Yasuhara fellow going on a business trip is nothing to lament about, from what I know he does that pretty often," he grumbled before returning to his correspondence, feeling foolish for having taken his wife's theatrics seriously.

"No, no! You do not understand the gravity of the situation!" Lady Hara insisted, waving her handkerchief frantically. "They left for good!"

Lord Hara merely shrugged. "Still not a matter of life and death. We did quite well before their arrival, and the new neighbours may entertain you as much," he snapped, sitting back on his chair to show he didn't want to partake in the ridiculousness of the scene anymore.

"But they left Masako behind!" Lady Hara shouted in a last bout of indignation.

Her comment was lost on her husband who was already absorbing himself in the content of his letter.

It felt, however, like a slap for her daughters. Masako became so pale that Mai went to her side, fearing she would faint.

Her reaction had Lady Hara to suddenly straighten up in her armchair to grab Masako's trembling hand. "Masako," she breathed, hope shining in her feverish gaze. "Could it be…"

She licked her dry lips, eyes set on her daughter so intently she looked almost insane. "Masako," she resumed, "have you, by any chance…have you concluded… you and Yasuhara, could it be… "

The question was left untold, but both sisters understood it perfectly. Masako took a few breaths before shaking her head and averting her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment her answer was about to bring.

"Nothing of the sort, Mother," she said in a strangled whisper. "We are not and have never been formally engaged."

Lady Hara fell back into her armchair and let go of her daughter's hand, releasing a long and dramatic wail.

"That wretched Shibuya!" She sobbed. "If only he hadn't persuaded Yasuhara to leave!"

"Shibuya?"

The name left Mai's lips in a grief-stricken cry before she could help it. Thankfully Lady Hara was too focused on her own desperation to notice the oddness of Mai's reaction.

"Their laundry maid told me." She sniffled. "Shibuya had to leave, good riddance, but he made the Yasuharas follow him. On such short notice! How could he, that… that horrible man! All is his fault!"

Once again the old lady surrendered to desolation, impervious to her husband's annoyed stares and her ghastly pale, shaken daughters.

 Naru.

 Yasuhara was gone and it was because of him.

Mai's hands fumbled to clutch the back of the chair before her, her legs threatening to give out. Her ears were ringing and her head was spinning with unanswered questions.

What had Naru done? What had she done?

 Had they left because of her treatment of him?

Was it her fault?

Her heart turned to lead as she begun to decipher the situation. Naru hadn't lied that night. His last words had been his farewell indeed.

Yasuhara wouldn't ask for Masako's hand.

And it may have been her doing.

As she regained her bearings Mai realized that her sister, taking advantage of Jenkins' return with a fuming cup of tea, had excused herself with admirable countenance and was now fleeing the scene.

Mai ran after her without even bothering with manners, leaving behind her adoptive father to deal with his wife and her litany of cries about the unfairness of the situation and the impossibility to find a better suitor in their county.

She caught up with her sister in the middle of the staircase.

"Masako!" she called, breathless.

Masako slowed her pace and stilled, facing the floor upstairs to avoid looking at Mai, her back unnaturally straight.

"Masako-", she repeated, softly this time.

She approached her sister and quietly took her arm. Masako smiled, in a way that would have appeared quite natural for most, but that Mai could tell was strained.

"Do not worry on my account Mai," she said, her face still stubbornly looking away. "The situation does not affect me as greatly as you seem to think. I shall miss the former residents of Netherfield, naturally, their company was most pleasant. But they were nothing more than strangers to us after all, and I see no harm in things staying this way."

Mai shook her head, the gesture lost on her sister. "I do not believe any of those words. I know what tender feelings you harbour toward Yasuhara. And I am fairly certain he holds similar ones for you."

Masako let out a sound between a sigh and a laugh. Her mouth contorted in a wry, desolate smile. "If he did, he would not have left so suddenly, without even a word for me."

Mai opened her mouth to retort, but found herself unable to utter a word. She could have spared Masako the shock of discovering Yasuhara wasn't to ask for her hand, yet two days after hearing about it from Naru she hadn't gathered the courage to crush her sister's dreams still. It was because of her cowardliness that Masako was in such a situation. What right had she to comfort her?

So she just tightened her grasp on Masako's bristling arm, wishing this simple gesture would convey all the feelings her voice couldn't.

Masako's shoulders slumped under the touch and she finally turned to face her, unable to completely hide the sadness behind the stretch of her lips this time.

"No," she denied as she delicately but firmly pried her arm out of Mai's hands. "We must simply admit that we have been mistaken in our assumptions, and that his behaviour toward me was simply the expression of fraternal-like affection, and nothing more. Really Mai, I am feeling perfectly fine. Now please let me go, I feel the need to be alone for some time."

Mai's heart sank as she let her hand fall back limply at her side, watching Masako's back go further and further away. She didn't try to stop her, nor did she offer any consolation.

How could words alleviate the grief of a broken heart anyway?

—

It was enough, Mai decided.

A week had passed since the uproar caused by the Yasuharas' departure, and things seemed to have returned to normal at home.

Lady Hara was bedridden, moaning every passing second about the loss of the rich and handsome suitor and terrorizing the poor Jenkins, who had to replace Masako who her mother couldn't bear to see.

Lord Hara was gleefully spending his days in the peaceful privacy of his office, or in the morning room now devoid of the presence of his wife.

And Masako…

Masako was behaving as usual. She was being polite, demure, her chiseled features always drawing the perfect picture of the emotions she was expected to show. She smiled at jokes, widened her eyes appropriately at surprising news, frowned when the discussed matter required disapproving. She was acting perfectly unaffected. Too perfectly.

She may be able to fool everybody else, but she couldn't dupe her. Mai could tell she was still heartbroken.

It had been difficult to leave Masako by herself to grieve. Her sister deserved an explanation, and a shoulder to cry on, and Mai had wanted more than anything to offer the two. But she could also sympathize with the need to sort her thoughts by herself and let time soften the shock, so she had given her the privacy she wanted.

But now Mai had enough. Enough of the sorrowful atmosphere. Enough of the guilt eating at her, enough of the secrets which seemed to constantly come between her and her friends. Enough of leaving her sister in the dark about Shibuya and what had transpired at Netherfield's ball. Enough of Masako pretending.

She needed to speak to her.

The opportunity arose when she spotted Masako putting her hat on in the parlor, a light shawl on her shoulders. The day was too young and her attire too simple for visiting, so the young woman was most probably going out for a stroll.

"Are you perhaps going on a walk?" she asked.

Masako nodded, her hands fastening the ribbons of her hat under her chin. Mai put the basket with her embroidery supplies on a nearby chair and hastily grabbed her own hat.

"What a wonderful coincidence, I happen to need to visit a few shops in Merryton -"

"I am not going to Merryton," Masako interrupted, patting the artful bow she had just made. "I just plan for a little stroll in the fields."

That didn't deter Mai in the least. "Is that so? Well, I feel like taking some exercise myself," she said while tying her ribbons haphazardly, not wanting to leave her sister the time to find an excuse to go without her.

Masako narrowed her eyes at her. "I would have thought the hour too early for your taste."

"Not at all," Mai lied with a blinding smile. "I enjoy the peace offered by the wee morning. I hope you do not mind my coming with you."

It wasn't a question, so Masako could only nod and sigh at the hurried way her friend was getting clothed for their walk.

"Take a shawl," she instructed when Mai made a move to pass the door. "The air is still crisp in this season."

Mai complied, chuckling fondly. Even the annoyance in her tone couldn't hide Masako's caring underneath.

"Here, shall we go now?"

Masako nodded and both geared toward the door.

The weather was indeed breezy despite the cloudless sky, and in these early hours of the morning the fields were basked in a misty fog the timid sunshine hadn't managed to dissipate.

Mai tightened her shawl around her shoulders, grateful she had listened to Masako's piece of advice, and inhaled deeply, feeling her anxiousness dissolve in the peaceful atmosphere. The golden colours of the scenery, the delicate warmth the sun was dusting on her cheeks and the soft chirping of the birds were a balm to her tormented soul, putting her mind and heart at ease.

Masako was walking beside her in silence, her features serene and unusually open.

"What a beautiful landscape," Mai breathed. "Had I any talent, I would have made it a painting."

"I do not think a painting could do it justice," her sister remarked in a soft, even tone. "The merit of the scenery is to be alive, fixing its colours on a canva would simply kill its magic."

"Then I am glad that I am here to enjoy it with you, for we can share this moment and its memory."

Masako hummed in agreement, and the two sisters walked for a little while in a companionable silence, the sound of pebbles rolling under their feet the only telltale of their presence in the fields.

"I came to understand why you savor these morning walks," Mai sighed softly, admiring the swirling colours of the sky.

"Do you, really?" Masako muttered. "Or did you use this excuse to have a talk with me?"

Mai smiled sheepishly. Considering how unsubtle her behaviour generally was, it was no surprise Masako had seen through her pretending.

"Both, to speak with honesty," she said gaily while taking her sister by the arm. "I do want to have a word with you, but being here really soothes my aching heart."

Masako frowned, confused. "Aching heart?"

Mai's smile vanished. "We shall have the long tour if you want me to explain from the very beginning. For now, I shall simply say that your grief is related to mine."

"My grief?" Masako exhaled sharply. "Mai, I already told you that there was none involved-"

She stopped short when her sister suddenly let go of her arm to turn and block her path, her expression serious.

"Stop this nonsense!" Mai cried. "I already told you that I do not believe those words."

Masako shook her head and opened her mouth to deliver yet another denial, but the determined, pained stare of her friend was enough for her to reconsider. Conflicting emotions animated her usually stoic features until resignation settled in.

"Neither do I," she admitted. "But what else shall I say on the matter? Pride is the only thing I have left."

Pride.

Mai tried to conjure the sudden image of a livid, dripping Naru leaving her house with his back straight and his head high after she had been too prideful to accept him. Or the dignity of a dashing Shibuya inviting her for a dance, rescuing her from both gossip and prejudice. Naru biding her farewell, his gaze troubled and his lips hot on her wrist.

Pride.

What good had it ever done?

"What happened to the Masako who told me to listen to my heart's command?" she asked softly.

Masako resumed her walk, seemingly absorbing herself in the contemplation of a faraway patch of wildflowers.

"She realised her own heart was not as sound as yours."

Mai followed suit, smothering a wry laugh. If she knew the real state of her heart right now, her sister may reconsider her statement.

"Even the most unsound heart has its inclination," she remarked.

Masako stayed mute, but her lips pressed together into a thin line.

"There is no need to pretend with me," Mai insisted. "You love him, I know it."

"And what if I do?" Masako asked flatly. "Would admitting it shield me from the pitying stares or the whispered gossip of our acquaintances? Would it make Mother less miserable? What would it change, except give them a reason to talk?"

Mai halted her steps and grabbed the hem of Masako's shawl. Her sister stopped and shot her a challenging look, as if daring her to say otherwise.

Mai clenched her fists, both angry and saddened by the impossible situation her sister was in. She was aware that their social circle had its eyes set on Masako, avidly awaiting for the slightest faux-pas, and that Masako could only conceal her emotions to avoid their feeding on her turmoil. But she certainly didn't want to let her sister suffocate under the stifling pressure of their expectations.

"You could simply acknowledge it to me," Mai suggested in a gentle plea. "Then, you would not have to bear this sorrow alone."

Masako's defiance slowly morphed into hesitation at her words. "It is… I am afraid that acknowledging it even once, even to you, will shatter my resolve," she conceded in a strangled whisper. "I cannot afford it."

Mai reached for her hand and squeezed it lightly, encouraging her to continue. Despite the warmth the sunlight was pouring onto them Masako's hand was as cold as ice.

The silence stretched for a minute, only interrupted by the melodious chirping of the birds and the buzzing of some stray bee.

Masako finally spoke, her voice unsteady.

"I cannot help but wonder, should I have told him more clearly how deep was my attachment to him? Would have it been enough for him to stay? Or was his inclination a mere passing feeling, already forgotten? I think too highly of him to even consider I have been played, so the only explanation I can muster is that he simply lost interest in me. And I-" she shook her head, tears now freely spilling on her cheeks, "-I cannot bear the thought."

"Masako…"

Mai felt on the verge of tears, frustrated by the unfairness of the situation. Her sister had finally found someone she could give her unadulterated affection to, someone who could elicit strong enough feelings from her that she would shed tears. But this person was now gone without any mention of return.

She shouldn't have been the one walking with Masako in this bucolic landscape bathed in sunlight. No, this place was for Yasuhara. Would he ever stand at her side?

"We were dancing and laughing together just two days before," Masako resumed, "yet he did not uttered a word about his leaving. He didn't even come to say his goodbyes! This speaks well enough about how unimportant I have become in his eyes."

"No." Mai shook her head vehemently and gently wiped her sister's tears. "He used to look at you in such a manner, that I will never believe his feelings for you were anything but tender."

Masako sniffled a last time, already reining her emotions in. "He would not have left it they were."

Mai hesitated a second, her conversation with Naru about Yasuhara's intentions toward Masako weighing heavily on her mind. She glanced at her sister's uncharacteristically puffy eyes and wondered briefly if she should tell her about it, or bury the memory in the depth of her mind to not add to her burden.

No, she decided, Masako deserved to know the truth.

"I cannot say what the exact reason of his departure is, for I do not know. However-" she cleared her throat and steeled her resolve, "However, I was told that his circumstances did not allow him to ask for your hand. I surmise cutting ties with us was his way of preserving you, so you did not wait for an hypothetical return."

She glanced at Masako warily, already dreading the question which would inevitably follow.

"You were...told?" Masako was making a valiant effort to talk calmly despite her growing agitation. "Who could have-" Her gaze suddenly lit in understanding. "Did Madoka, by any chance-"

"No."

Mai took a deep breath, deliberately ignoring the way her chest constricted at the mere mention of the gentleman. "It was Naru."

After a moment of shocked silence Masako seemed to regain the ability to speak. "Naru, you mean Shibuya?"

Mai nodded.

"Why would he…" Masako looked unsettled, torn between the trust she naturally had in her sister and the doubt the unexpected source of her statement was inducing. "Do you trust his words?" she finally asked in disbelief. "Considering he has already deceived us at least once-"

"I am certain he said the truth."

Mai had spoken barely louder than a whisper, yet her admission seemed to rang deafeningly loud.

Masako's didn't inquire about her reasons to suddenly trust a man she had sworn she despised. She simply stood quiet, her features unreadable.

"What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing much." Mai's throat was painfully tight, giving her voice a raspy tone. "Only that Yasuhara had his hands tied, from what I could gather."

"I see. May I ask why you kept quiet about it?"

The question didn't hold any animosity, but Mai felt shameful about her silence nonetheless. If only she had spoken, back then...

She felt Masako's hand gently grip her own.

"Did Shibuya… Did he perhaps threaten you?"

"No," Mai shook her head, "he did nothing of the sort."

No, she realised, Naru had never done anything hurtful to her. She had neither connections, position, nor wealth, he could have easily ensured her silence about his secret by bribing or threatening her. But instead of getting rid of her, he chose to disregard his own probable resentment toward the woman who so rejected him so harshly to shield her from their peers' prejudice. To spare her feelings, he had ignored his.

Mai wanted to cry. She had been so blind.

She closed her eyes, unable to deal with the guilt and mortification drawn by the realisation. "It was my own cowardliness which stopped me from breaching the matter with you" she confessed. "I was afraid to bring you pain and disappointment. Also…Also, I feared they left because of me, and that I was responsible for the ruin of your happiness."

"You?" Masako raised incredulous eyebrows. "Ruining my happiness? What could have given you such a ridiculous idea?"

"It did not seem ridiculous in the least!" Mai defended. "Well, not until I realised he was not this sort of person…" she amended. "Naru- I mean, Shibuya- and me…" She let out a frustrated growl. "I do not even know where to start!"

"The very beginning sounds like a reasonable starting point."

Mai didn't even berate her sister for her dry humour, already lost in her explanation.

"I acted without thinking, because, would you believe it, this idiot asked for my hand, at the worst moment, and in the most terrible way I must say-"

"He what?" Masako almost shouted , an owlish look betraying her incredulity. "Mai, when-"

"- My state of mind at the time was not exactly suited to welcome such a proposal, not so soon after rejecting my cousin, not after hearing about his false identity, and it made me so angry that I acted like a fool and-"

"Wait, Mai!" cried Masako to stop her sister's rant. "I beg of you to calm down!"

"I cannot!" Mai answered in kind. "I rejected him so harshly, and so unfairly, all because of my wounded pride. I refused to hear his explanations, I trampled his feelings, I told him the most horrible things. In my anger I told Naru I was aware of his deception, it was not my intention to let him know, but…"

Masako's gaze softened as she finally understood.

"Did you believe he left because you knew of his secret? And that it was enough of a reason for Yasuhara to follow him?"

"I-" Mai put her head in her hands. "I did believe it. But I am not sure anymore."

"I do not think you are responsible for their departure. And in the case you were," Masako said while gently prying Mai's hands from her face, "we should not regret they left, for it would mean they were not worthy of our trust and affection. Now," she added with a thunderous gleam in her eyes, "you have to tell me in detail what happened with Shibuya."

So Mai confessed everything to her, from Naru's disastrous proposal to his farewell during the ball.

"He was right," she breathed once she had related their overly complicated story to an equally bewildered and indignant Masako. "I accused him of being too prideful when I was the one who let pride dictate my actions. My treatment of him was the most unfair."

"It was certainly not unjust to reject him," her sister objected hotly, still peeved by the so-called gentleman's behaviour. "Not because his proposal was awkward, if not awful, but because he did lie to us. To you. You were absolutely right in telling him hiding his identity from you was ungentlemanly!"

"But I rejected him in such a manner that I can only think of it with mortification now. I proved to be obtuse and unyielding, I disregarded his feeling, which I came to understand, were sincere. At the ball-"

Mai had to pause, overwhelmed by the onslaught of memories from that night. "-At the ball, I finally realised the extent of my unfairness. I could tell how much I hurt him."

Masako sighed softly, her resent toward the man ebbing before her sister's genuine remorse. "It would have been fairer to let him explain his motives indeed. You were both at fault, and both right in your accusations. I must admit that his later behaviour casts another light on his character."

"I almost wish I had not seen this side of him," Mai mumbled, absentmindedly rolling a pebble under her shoe, "for I cannot despise him now that I did." Her lips stretched into a half-bitter, half-indulgent smile. "What a sly man, he managed to have the last word, once again."

"Mai," Masako started hesitantly, probing her friend's reaction, "what you said earlier about our grieves being related, did you imply… did you imply that they are of a similar nature?"

Mai raised her dejected gaze to meet her sister's enquiring one. She could still feel the remorse and longing coursing through her veins when Shibuya had left her after the ball. She could still feel the softness of his lips brushing her pulse. She could still feel the erratic beating of her heart, the fire his troubled gaze and parting words had lit in her heart. Denying her feelings would be fighting a losing battle.

"I fear they are," she replied in a broken whisper. "And that I misjudged him."

Masako's dark eyes softened in sympathy.

"We are both fools," she said, and snatched a flower from a thornbush. "Longing for such secretive men."

"We are," Mai agreed in a resigned sigh.

"It is a shame that Takigawa is not available anymore, I would have chosen him for myself. Mother would have been delighted."

"Masako!"

Mai sent her sister a scandalized look. Masako could only keep her serious expression for a short moment before she burst into laughter.

"So gullible," she managed between giggles.

Mai's incredulous expression slowly left place to a grin which turned into bubbling laughter.

Soon enough the two of them were bent in half, letting the fit of uncontrollable mirth wash their sorrow away.

"You are impossible," Mai muttered after her last giggles died down.

"Yes," Masako replied quite proudly, wiping her tears in a careless manner.

"I am glad I have you by my side."

Masako smiled affectionately as her arm linked with Mai's.

"I shall not leave it until we find another Takigawa for ourselves," she joked, bumping her sister's hip lightly.

"We could beg Ayako to give us some advice about snatching men of his kind," Mai replied in kind. "I am afraid I only know how to reject them."

Her smile fell as she remembered. "Their wedding is drawing near."

"I know."

"I will miss Ayako immensely."

"So will I. But for now," Masako said wisely, "we shall just look forward to what is to come. I think this trip to Hertfordshire in a few weeks is most timely. A few days far away from Netherfield and its memories sounds extremely appealing."

"My cousins shall provide enough distraction with their bickering," Mai chuckled. "Being the witness their matrimonial bliss may have us think twice about marriage."

With that the two sisters headed back home, walking arm in arm at a leisurely pace.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

brought to you by talking a lot abt kleinsen and getting the unexpected gift of deh-livetweeting:

shoutout to thinking about and being overwhelmed by how canon kleinsen is

jared seeking evan out in the hallway on the first day of school and making a deliberate Entrance like the insanely cool & funny guy he totally is dude

standing like one whole foot away (if that) from evan and listening intently to evan’s full rendition of his weird summer

just take hold of your bro’s shoulder

This.

wink and finger gun @ ur bro

Wink And Finger Gun At Your Bro

sharing his secrets for “not telling the truth” w/evan

offering, unprompted, to help w evan’s email situation

how much fun jared has writing the emails with evan. for a task that doesn’t benefit jared directly at all (save $20 we don’t even Know if he got) he’s real into it beyond what a chance to crack some jokes at evan should inspire.

jared being awful earnest about The Love One Man Feels For Another being Quite Beautiful and really seeming to want to go the “secret boyfriends” route

not to mention the pre-broadway lines calling evan cute as a freakin button and saying if one of them cries it makes the other cry. oh and the “it’s very heterosexual” thing

how much of the email exchange jared is writing himself. the inspirational refrain. and, arguably, basically all of connor’s emails

how unfiltered evan is with jared in the sincerely me scene....in a way you never see him be around anyone else...the parts of him that “aren’t nice” that he thinks other ppl wouldn’t like...hhhgh its fine

jared being enthusiastically drawn into the dynamic he’s just created of An Intimate And Openly Communicative Relationship Between Evan And His Best Friend. hmm!!!

jared asking for evan’s attention Hey Asshole Aren’t Ya Gonna Say Anything

evan knows jared was Supporting him for the sake of supporting him or he wouldn’t’ve asked jared if he’d wanna get behind the connor project stuff

seriously. jared does wayyyyyy too much shit for evan even if he DID get that twenty bucks

the dramatic Turn To Look Directly At Evan during “from across the silence your voice is heard.” i know alana does it too but those two always have differing as well as shared motivations for doing the same shit

the Exchanged Touch in obc ywbf

jared calling the Intimate And Openly Communicative Relationship Between Evan And His Best Friend he’s still rp-ing “adorably heartwarming” and this time outright trying to insert himself into the idea.

three seconds after trying to make evan jealous he switches gears entirely to try to grab on to a different approach at lightning speed saying he’ll help w the kickstarter more if evan wants. then only resorting to “remember why i’m unavoidably important here” Scathingly Accurate Criticism when evan brushes that off too

actually letting go of that resentment to once again take a different approach, being Into his invitation for evan to hang out

again, have they done this before? just hung out and got smashed together? cuz they may have

not even getting mad this time when evan brushes him off. just disappointed. his Scathing Criticisms arent delivered with any of the energy / sarcasm of earlier scenes. he’s just fuckin Sad in this exchange

jared Specifically being taken aback by seeing zoe kiss evan. and fleeing the scene for the second time in the play even

tho this time he’s. just fuckin Sad. preview of what’ll happen in gfy honestly

when gfy happens and it’s really the only time you don’t see jared back down or try to deescalate

jared being so upset / desperate to get evan to care about him again that he’s directly going the “you HAVE to care about me for practical/strategic reasons” route since the other routes didn’t work

jared also being desperate to say why evan should care about him (which is: because he cares about evan) but not being able to directly say it cuz that’s jared for you. you just get You should remember who your FRIENDS ARE and SO and I Could tell EVERYONE EVERYTHING

running away from his feelings again & the fact that evan basically told jared he knows jared actually does cares abt him b/c he’s jared’s only friend & showing jared that that’s not enough to make evan wanna keep him around. jared running away like he did when zoe comes over and kisses evan. its very heterosexual

jared’s pretty upset for a guy who’s not in love with evan

crying during gfy

crying...during gfy.....

Jared Is Canonically Heartbroken

how jared feels like he’s been Played if he didn’t think evan knowingly took advantage of his investment in evan

how jared feels that Crushed if he wasn’t in love with evan

crying during gfy

you think that is the last gay thing jared does but yknow what else he does. is Not Tell Anyone What He Knows abt the truth re: evan and the connor project. even after being so hurt and angry at evan and them never reconciling. keeping his secret

evan: “wow i wish there was someone who knew what i’m really like and still loved me but thats impossible” /// jared: *is literally right there*

evan: “time to realize the value in all the imperfect sources of support i overlooked / considered inadequate before, not to mention at least partway resolve all these conflicts from good for you” /// jared: *is literally right there*

jared is right there

jared repeatedly being like “hahaahahaha bet ur having so much fun making out w zoe” and then sees zoe politely kiss evan and is Upset

canon heartbreak

kleinsen

seriously...jared spending most of the play trying to break into evan’s Idealized Concept Of A Close Relationship. ok.

jared is in love with evan. thx

and that’s my essay

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 115 Thoughts

-munches popcorn-

Dude. Can you imagine how screwed they’d all be if plot magic wasn’t a thing?

Can you imagine how screwed they all still are even though plot magic is a thing?

The rest of the world doesn’t even need to be here for this. If they wait long enough, everyone on Paradis will kill everyone on Paradis, and then in the near future titans will stop showing up.

Good End.

Wait, no. Uh.

Bad End.

Oh, but this chapter gives me a headache. Zeke gives me a headache. Eren gives me a headache. Like, giving me a headache is not way up there in difficulty, but these people and their convoluted euthanasia plans.

Usually chronological musings are my friend, but I think this time I’m going to just head in whatever direction I can make head or tails of.

The good new is that Yelena wants to help me with that. Thanks Yelena. Color-coding all the characters is a great shortcut for understanding who’s on whose side, and I can’t see any of our plucky protagonists ever taking advantage of that.

White for the Yeagerists, Red for the scared traitors, Black for enemies. Cute. White flags for surrender, red for blood on their hands, and black for--oh, I guess that’s a pirate reference. Does Paradis have pirate references?

Yer marked with the black spot, matey. Not a one of us foolhardy enough to accept a heading from a man so cursed.

In any case, I do appreciate that we’re having people point out that a bunch of parties are doing the pointing Spider-Man meme. Yes, we are imitating Marley. They created a clerical helpfulness, why wouldn’t we imitate that?

Yes, we are imitating the evil Eldian Empire. They had power, why wouldn’t we be fans of that?

The happy days of the Volunteers buddying up to the Scouts seem far away with Yelena unmasked and at the helm. I fully expect that some, like Onyankopon, aren’t perfectly at ease following through on this, but. Well.

These are the people who have survived Marley’s destruction of their homes. They follow Zeke to see Marley collapse. They kill, spy, and betray in pursuit of that cause. They’ve always been dangerous. Paradis has been cautious with them, but Yelena’s right about the dual nature of that caution. They’re cool being friends with Paradis, and maybe if that had gone both ways no one would have to be held hostage, but these have always been the methods they’re willing to put into play.

A very angry little boy from Shiganshina once wanted revenge so badly that it put veteran soldiers on edge.

These people were soldiers before they became spies. They are the adult version of that vengeance. Paradis is new to the world. Their only enemies have been titans and each other. Titans are now mostly gone. They only have other humans to deal with, and they’re flopping hard.

The Volunteers have lived in the outside world. They have actual, viable strategies to deal with these fledgling chicks.

All it takes is some wine, and they’ve gathered all Paradis’ military force to Shiganshina. By asking politely and pointing a few guns along the way, but still. Paradis is completely overthrown by a few drinks and Zeke having power that they invited to the island themselves.

Yelena herself continues to be entirely too much fun. That isn’t really the right word for it, but she’s a pleasure. She knows the full plan, and deeply admires the Titans to the point of fanaticism. Zeke is her God, and the number of things standing between that assertion being true is...

Eren?

Basically?

Part of what makes this chapter so... oy is that these people have taken so many complicated problems and simplified them with their destructive stupidity, only for those simplifications to create further complicated issues while the actual solutions for them are so minimal and limited that the direction of the plot is really quite simple.

We were dealing with Paradis needing help reentering the world.

Now we’re dealing with keeping Eren and Zeke as far away as possible so they don’t sterilize all the Eldians.

If people we care about live through all this, maybe then we will go back to caring about Paradis’ international relations, but as of right now, there could not be less of a point.

So the name of the game is keep away, only since absolutely nothing except bad weather is impacting that, the secondary name of the game is oh no oh hell oh fuck Eren how much do you actually agree with your brother do we have to kill you aw fuck.

Starring Pieck.

What I keep coming back to is how complicated this nonsense is.

It stands to reason that what Eren wants is not in line with what Zeke wants. More on that in a bit, but for the purposes of right now, if Eren and Zeke are in total agreement, the Eldians are going to be sterilized and the rest of the manga will be spent trying to feed Eren to someone while Zeke is nommed by Historia, and then the new Founding Duo resets everything and oh gee hey is that the entire world outside our door?

And you know, maybe the outside world would be a little less bloodthirsty if Eren hadn’t murdered a bunch of people during an international spectacle, but apparently following Zeke’s plan is important.

Even though they don’t need Zeke for the Founding Duo, because they have Historia.

Wait no, she’s pregnant because Zeke said she had to be, even though any child she has could potentially undo all his work, so she can’t eat Zeke, so Zeke has to be part of the Founding Duo.

Like... Whatever Eren is planning on doing.

He needs the Founding Titan powers. Right? That’s settled.

So, naturally, the thing to do is to massacre a bunch of innocent people (while massacring some very non-innocent people), making every other country pissed enough at Paradis to start a joint military operation to wipe them out, and that will all be absolutely fine because between him and Zeke, after the rest of the world bombs Paradis to kingdom come, yay, no more Eldians.

Also no living in peace for their final days, no exploring the outside world, no anything really, just a lot of war.

“Hi I’m Eren, I just found out if I touch a royal titan I will have enough power to rewrite DNA, along with who knows the fuck what else, I think cooperating with Zeke in a plan all of my superior officers have vetoed and telling them nothing about what I’m really doing is the way to go.”

As far as I can tell (and we’re on the train of Eren having something else going on here, as will be covered... later), the only reason Eren causes so much destruction at the festival is because it’s in Zeke’s plan, and a happy Zeke is easier to smuggle onto an airship without anyone noticing.

Only people did notice.

There’s a person who stabs a guy this chapter who most assuredly noticed. She is there stabbing someone because she noticed.

Noticing happened.

I’m just going to throw this out here:

If you need the Founding Titan’s power that badly, turn Historia into a mindless titan.

Seriously. Tie her down, have larger chains at the ready, and just go for it.

This is not hard. Looking at the plot, who gives a fuck that the Queen isn’t around? She’s clearly not doing anything, jab her in the neck and go for it. Mindless titans are functionally immortal. You wouldn’t need to worry about her having kids or waiting for those kids to be old enough, or trading off to the next heir when their time comes. Or heck, consent.

One person. One sacrifice.

Boom, you have magic powers now that you can do... honestly at this point I’m more waiting for what they can’t do.

The amount you do not need Zeke for a plan requiring the Founding Titan’s powers is ridiculous.

So why is it so important to go along with his plan?

It make for a meta point in this meta, but unless Eren has something of his own going on here, there is very little drama to this situation. Eren and Zeke meet, their version of the Snap happens, we all go home sad. Paradis has lost so badly already they might as well be waving those white Yeagerist armbands over their heads.

Something has to change for the plot to move forward and for everyone to not die. The rest of the world is coming for them whether or not Zeke and Eren’s Snap goes off.

But it is completely beyond me why any plan would require hitching up to Zeke’s orbit for so long. Zeke’s plan is really only good for Zeke’s plan. Sterilization means no more Eldians eventually. The living Eldians still have to deal with everyone newly pissed at them because of the Yeager Bros’ stunt.

Looking at Zeke and Eren’s conversation...

Geez, just look at Zeke’s face when Eren calls him “brother.”

Zeke is a broken boy from a broken home, and Eren is his brother. Someone who’s been through the same things and can understand the world the same way. His little brother is finally talking to him, talking about all the horrible things their horrible father did, and instead of agreeing with Grisha, his little brother looks at him and says that their plan will create a beautiful new world.

You could not script a faster way to Zeke’s heart.

Eren talks about Grisha’s obsession and rejects it.

He talks about being a mistake.

He talks about ending it.

Together.

We haven’t seen any thought bubbles from Eren. This conversation with Zeke is the closest we get to... anything, really, except for his very long talk with Reiner.

But we’ve seen his perspective of Grisha’s murders before. We’ve seen what it does to him, and how desperately he wants to be erased from the world. We see him begging for death, because his life just makes it all so very hard for the Eldian people.

We see him doing everything he possibly can to cut that thinking out of himself.

Eren’s leaving something out in his recreation of events.

Two things, sort of, but the same thing.

“If those children stayed alive... I’d have been gobbled right up to give the Founding Titan back to the royal family.”

“Never having to be born in this world... Is the greatest salvation of all.”

Eren’s alive because one of the royal family’s children survives, and decides not to eat him. There’s no telling if one of the other Reiss children would have made the same decision, but it would have been a decision. Historia has that decision dangling over her head for chapters until she finally decides, while Eren’s begging for his death, that all of it is fucked up and she’s out.

Someone makes a choice.

Eren lives.

Way back in Trost, which is a sentence I will probably never be done typing, we have our first introduction to what it means to our main character to be born.

“When we’re born… all of us… are free. People who reject that, no matter how strong they are… don’t matter.” --14

The thing Eren leaves out when he talks to Zeke is freedom.

There was a royal child left.

That child saves his life.

From the moment they’re all born, they have the power to choose. They can make their own decisions. Their own mistakes. They can fight their own battles.

“He’s already great. Because he was born… into this world.” --71

Eren, and Eren’s mother long before him, believed that being human is pretty rad. Being born, and being free, is extraordinary, and Eren starts off on his own journey to become the freest person he can possibly be.

It starts from birth.

Eren and Zeke’s stated plan flies in the face of everything Eren has fought for. He’s had moments where he believes the world would be better off without him, but never that it would be better off without other people. Eren parrots back Zeke’s exact ideology regardless, and calls him his brother.

The conversation is too doctored to be anything but intentional, much like his discussion with Armin and Mikasa. He is going after the exact heart of the situation, and making his case mirror Zeke’s so well that Zeke doesn’t flinch at sharing everything with his little brother he’s never known. Eren crosses the ocean to talk to him, and they do, and it’s great, and they’re going to save the world!

We’ve learned what Zeke thinks of his plan.

I would argue we have yet to hear a single honest thought from Eren about it. Everything he states belongs to Zeke.

Which makes the lengths he’s going to accomplish Zeke’s wishes sort of dodgy.

Like literally everything Eren does seems kind of dodgy.

Including what the Yeagerists are doing in gathering up all their military personnel in Shiganshina.

YEAH I SURE AM GLAD NOTHING SUSPECT OR ALARMING IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN OH BOY HOWDY.

The one thing Eren had left on his checklist was looking out for spies, and speak of the devil, Pieck! He asks and she shows up! Impressively, it’s surprising enough for Eren to bother looking surprised, but. it’s.

It’s still exactly what he wanted. Congrats, you found an infiltrator. You win.

Though Pieck... What the heck do you think that gun’s going to do?

Oh well, go Pieck. Go Team Proactivity. Win some for all the kiddos. Except you’re probably on Marley’s side (I would so love for you not to be), so I want you to win precisely nothing, but. Well, you can hug Gabi maybe.

So did anything else happen this chapter? No?

I’m going to go with no.

Little Ymir Fritz patching Zeke up amongst the stars is a total no.

So is Levi pulling half a Marco.

Memeception, there.

Yeah... Levi was in trouble before he and Hange took a dip, so I can only imagine the number of other body parts he’ll be losing now. Gosh.

This had better not turn Evangelion.

I will only be slightly less miffed if it pulls the Madoka it looks like it’s wanting to.

The Code Geass in the middle of it all is unavoidable at this point, just embrace it.

[emilyplaysotome]

Chapter 3 - The Hard Sell

It’s strange that the first thing I thought about was whether or not I should return to my apartment (now that it was no long inhabited by Zyglavis).

The sentimental part of me wanted to be comforted by all things familiar, but it was for that reason and that reason alone that I pushed myself to follow through and stay at Meg’s. My problem had been that I’d gotten too comfortable, both in my relationship and with other men whose affections towards me felt like a constant.

Between my time in otomeville and my time back home with Zyglavis, I had forgotten what it was to be truly alone. It was unsettling, returning this place where no one was thinking of me. As fiercely independent as I once was, I was now a domesticated version of myself - lost and weak and without a shoulder to cry on.

I had drawn strength from these relationships without even realizing it and now that they were gone I felt as if I was adrift at sea.

I took my phone out and sent a text to each of the otome men in my phone. It was a total Hail Mary on my part, and I had absolutely no expectation that I’d get a reply so when Leon immediately texted back I felt slightly relieved. He and I had never been close or even liked one another for that matter, but knowing that there was at least one person in this world who understood my history reinvigorated my drive to win the king’s new game.

We met a few hours later by his apartment for dinner, and I filled him in on everything that had happened.

“That makes sense,” he mumbled. “The last time I came by your place I could tell that Zyglavis was keeping something from me. It must have been the return of his powers…”

“And yours?” I asked hopefully.

Leon shook his head, “No. I could feel the king’s presence but I am not the God I once was in my world.”

I felt my heart sink as I kissed goodbye access to in-game cheat codes that Leon’s godly version possessed. In the hours before our meeting, it had started to sink in that this was going to be much harder than my first attempt had been at romancing otome men.

For starters, three months was not nearly enough time if you considered the fact that I still had to work most days. In otomeville, my days had been free to research and run about the city as I looked for clues and went on dates before finally getting myself home.

Now, both myself and the men were theoretically working 9-5s, Monday through Friday (if not more) and I still had no idea who that fifth mystery guest might be. As much as I hated it, I’d already re-activated my Tinder account (seeing as how the king had made it fairly explicit that I’d be needing to find the men in this world through conventional means) and I’d also downloaded Bumble, OkCupid, and Hinge figuring that the more apps I was on, the more chances I’d have in finding them.

I had hoped that Leon’s powers were back and that he could snap his fingers and cut through some of the noise, but it was becoming clearer and clearer that I was going to really need to strategize in order to find the most effective plan to locate and win the hearts of these men. Finding them would be only half the battle - I worried not only about the fact that they were all so attractive every woman in NYC was no doubt swiping right and without my advantage I was just another face in the crowd.

There was nothing particularly memorable or beautiful about me, and on apps like Tinder, superficial first impressions remain king. It was for that reason and that reason alone that I shared my profile with Leon. He tapped through my profile photos and with a scoff read my bio.

“No, this will never do. Don’t you have anything more…I don’t know…personable?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at these - you’re just so…forgettable.”

“Hey!”

“You don’t have time to get upset Goldfish. Think. You need to find 5 men - what do they like? Why would they swipe on you? Right now you’re just another smiling face and you know it. Think.”

As tough as it was to hear Leon validate my feelings, I soon found myself searching for particular photos I knew I had in the annals of my facebook.

I started by finding a photo from 3 years ago at a motorcycle show I’d attended for work when Harley Davison was one of our clients. I hoped Hiroshi would see that and swipe right, knowing how much he loved motorcycles. For Soryu, I found a picture that he’d actually taken of me a month ago as I successfully completed my most challenging lift. I hoped that would also appeal to Jin and Hijikata, but taking no chances I added photos from a trip that I’d taken a fears years back at a traditional a Japanese temple long before I’d fallen down a rabbit hole to a bizarro version of the place. I also found a photo from halloween where I was dressed up as a sexy lady cop (something I’d hoped never to publicly share but figured that desperate times called for desperate measures).

Not knowing who the mystery fifth man was, I opted to use the last 2 of the 6 pictures Tinder allowed to appeal to Zyglavis.

The king had so cruelly wiped all my devices of our shared photos but for whatever reason had not taken ones of just me (such as all the solo shots he had taken of me on his birthday). In the photo I selected, I was holding up a chocolate ganache cake I’d made for him from scratch with a warm smile on my face. His birthday had happened before any of our problems had really started, and as a result it was clear as day by the way I looked at the camera that I was in love with the man who was holding it.

For my final picture, I recovered another photo that Zyglavis had taken at Maya and Omar’s wedding. In it, I’m wearing a form fitted dress, holding a slice of wedding cake, and smiling at the camera.

Leon nodded approvingly at my changes and noted, “What about the bio?”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought for a moment and then wrote the following: “We will be lost and found a thousand times on this cobbled road of us.” - Atticus

Leon chuckled and noted, “A little heavy handed but I like it. It’s a bit of a riddle and it speaks to the situation. Perhaps it might jog a lost memory or feeling.”

I smiled in an attempt to hide how overwhelmed I felt. I was starting over in such a big way and it felt daunting to be at the starting line again. Leon saw through my fake smile and awkwardly noted, “It’ll be fine.”

“Will it? The king is right - without the advantage...”

“It pains me to say this but your problem with the men in this world has nothing to do with you and everything to do with how you view yourself.”

“Come on, you’ve seen the women in this city and -“

“Naomi, you make it hard for me to believe you’re competent at your job. You’re in marketing, no? You must understand the concept of selling a product.”

“Of course I do!”

“In dating, you’re the product. Why would I want to buy a product that believes that all the women around her are better? Men don’t need a lot of convincing if you’ve already decided you’re inferior on your own. They’ll just take your word for it and go look for something better.”

Once more, though Leon’s words cut deep in my heart I knew he was right.

Dating in this world (before I’d found myself living in a fantasy) had robbed me of my confidence. As time went on, I found myself believing less and less that I’d ever find happiness and that in itself proved to be a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts.

I wondered when it was that I started feeling this way which conjured memories from previous heartaches and feeling of inadequacy created by men who were too emotionally stunted to ever be a real partner in the way that I wanted.

As my mind mulled over the root of these problematic beliefs I held for myself, Leon continued, “The ego of man is a fragile one. Far more fragile than that of a woman’s feelings. If you believe that you are the best product a man can have, he will believe it too. Courtship is the perfect balance of self confidence and affirmation. You use your looks to make the first impression, then you show off a product that is so highly desired you wouldn’t ever settle for the first bidder, yet you maintain clear interest by expressing a reasonable level of affection somewhere between total indifference and complete thirst.”

“What do you mean?”

Leon sighed, annoyed that I didn’t have the tools to unpack what he felt was obvious and said, “Just find a way to casually tell a man he’s handsome. That word is kryptonite for men - it can be used in a familiar way without coming across desperate but at the same time makes it obvious that you find them attractive.”

“Leon…you’re really good at this.”

Leon shrugged, “I suppose a millennia of hearing the wishes of men makes it fairly obvious what they desire most.”

“Seriously. You’ve opened my eyes to something I couldn’t figure out from years of therapy. You should teach classes or something.”

“No time. Besides, that would only get in the way of my political career.”

“Your what now?”

With a cocky grin Leon polished off the rest of the beer that was sitting in front of him and said confidently, “The next few months will be busy for me. I plan to run for mayor here. You goldfish need someone like me in charge!”

I let out a laugh and it was oddly comforting to see that even though much had changed in the course of a weekend, Leon’s arrogance would remain a constant in my life for the foreseeable future.

That night I found myself in Meg’s guest room on Tinder.

I’d forgotten how tedious the process of weeding through such a large pool of men could be. There were the guys that were an obvious no, with profiles that made it clear they wanted sex and nothing more. There were the trolls and the geeks and the men that made me feel superficial and mean for not ever giving them a chance despite the fact they seemed to be good people underneath a less than desirable exterior.

Finally there was that elusive 1% of attractive, but not so attractive that they were guaranteed to be players. The smart, cute, totally dateable man who (statistically speaking) had a line of women waiting to hang out. I was an underdog in so many ways but as I continued my adventures in swiping I reminded myself that Leon was right.

I needed to value myself more or no one else would.

With that in mind, I found myself walking to the full length mirror in the guest room, momentarily leaving my phone behind as I evaluated the product I was currently hawking online. 

She was average female height at around 5’4” and 145 lbs. She had dark hair, dark eyes, full lips, and a nice smile. Her skin was looking a little ruddy at the moment with dark circles under her eyes and thanks to her laziness when it came to cosmetics meant that whenever she was sleep deprived she never attempted to hide the fact she looked less than ideal.

I thought about the Naomi I wanted to be, and how when I looked good I felt better about myself. I didn’t wear makeup just because I was a tomboy - really, I never wore makeup because I was too self-conscious to learn. I pretended that I was above it all, but in actuality I just perpetually ran behind and between not having time and not having any idea what I was doing started hanging my hat on the fact that I am “all natural”.

I decided that thanks to Leon’s verbal push I was going to be Naomi 2.0 - a better version of the self that had already made great strides to becoming better in the months since her fall down the rabbit hole. Beyond just introducing me to men, my time in otomeville had reminded me about all the things I liked about myself and now it was time to work on those things I still struggled with.

The next day, my coworkers were sad to learn that our salad runs with Hiroshi and Jin had come to an end. I came up with a story that they’d gone undercover and as a result even I didn’t know where they were.

As a result, I spent that lunch hour trying to familiarize myself with some basic products that I hoped could help give my appearance a bit more polish and my fragile ego a bit of a boost. The lady at Sephora informed me as she applied some powder with a brush that “I made hilarious faces” and as self-conscious as I was by the end of my time there I walked out with a good set of makeup brushes, powder, blush, bronzer, eyeliner, an eye kit for special occasions, an eyelash curler, and some mascara.

I’d gone back and forth on the lipstick, ultimately deciding that I’d be too self conscious in a bright color and would opt for my usual chapstick gloss.

No one said anything about my new look back at the office, and the day flew by as it usually did now that I was back in the rhythm of my usual life. At the moment, I’d spent the last few months working on a few different accounts ranging from athleisure (Adidas) to skincare (dove). After returning from otomeville and my quick stint at Addison & Rhodes, I’d requested a change of clientele from my boss and was happy that she accommodated my request.

My life at work was far more enjoyable these days, and it was nice to once again feel creative and inspired at my day job. The hours flew by and before I knew it 6 pm hit and I made a slight detour on my way back to Meg’s apartment.

In addition to the makeup, I decided to purchase a few “date night outfits” that were less stuffy than my “biz-cas” (business casual) work attire and very casual t-shirt and jeans. I’ll admit that even though I’d turned my nose up in the past at women who poured a lot of energy into their appearance, I was eating crow at the moment.

I looked nice - better than I had in a long time and as a result I could feel my confidence growing to the point that wooing 5 handsome men over the course of 3 months no longer seemed impossible.

With my high end shopping sprees complete (though not even comparable to the shopping I’d once done during my time as the bachelorette) I was found myself riding high on a mix of newfound confidence and positivity. I swiped my way from the shops near my office in TriBeCa/Soho to Meg’s apartment in the west village yet there was no sign of any of the otome men.

The tinder gold icon let me know that 99+ men had already swiped right (aka “yes”) on me and realizing that it might make sense to expedite this process through additional capital I took the leap and discovered that I already had 900 suitors at the ready. Feeling quite good about the number of men lined up to date me, I scrolled through the faces hoping to see someone familiar and just as I was close to the bottom who should I see but a very familiar cinnamon roll.

Wearing a leather jacket, holding his helmet in one hand, Hiroshi’s first Tinder photo had him leaning against his parked motorcycle. I was so excited that I almost hastily swiped right and instantly messaged him, but thinking about the king, Leon, and the fact that I did not know this version of Hiroshi I knew that I needed to play it smart.

I took screenshots of his page, hoping that there would be a clue seeing as how if I managed to blow this shot with him somehow I’d need a backup plan. From the images I gathered (paired with the miles away) I deduced that he was somewhere in Queens, had joined a local bike club there, and frequented a certain bar (two of his photos were in the same pub and in his profile he noted that he loved an inexpensive dive).

Once I’d properly archived all the information I could get on Hiroshi, I swiped right and hoping to appeal to his inner bike nerd I wrote, “Hey! Cool motorcycle - how long have you been riding?”

I felt good about that opener until a few minutes later I saw his reply and my newfound confidence shattered.

“Hey sorry - u were an accidental swipe. Cool u like bikes tho. Always up 2 chat about that but ur not my type haha.”

The king wasn’t playing around this time and it was already obvious that a little makeup and some new clothes weren’t going to help me much with a game that was clearly rigged from the start. 

The old Naomi would have gotten down on herself, but this new and improved 2.0 Naomi who believed in her product was ready for what was clearly going to be the biggest challenge of her life...

Next to Chapter 4

If you’ve enjoyed the story, please show your support by sharing it with a friend or buying me a coffee!  

Thanks for reading :)

@robotloveskitten

@111archravenue

@celestialjeonghan

@lxvescramble

@suzunesays

@suyi-nandar

@hifftn

@ocean-of-stars

@jasminwild

@scorpioslover

@untilsmidnight

@mandakatt

@asyasacha

@saphirepearl

@evilgreenhedgehog

@musiic-on-world-off

@frywen-babbles

@thesassyscribbler

@lexlesnik

@voltagewolfsoul

@liebengirl

@nitelotus

@kingdomzeldaquest

@kpkarlee

@wickedtiff

@chubbsmomma

@ariaspencer1028

@midnightdreamerposts

@krispycherryblossomchild

@animeangel1995

@shies322

@sone9yoona

@appletealove

@hazeldite

@lone-wolf155

@iluvsexyvoltageguys

@vasl-97

@galaxyinqkxy

@01paige01

@huntressofsheep

@rokopo2003

@callmesinner-blog

@graceyyk

@oh-well-this-is-awkward

@voltagefan195

@mrszala

@secretotomelover

@otome-newbie

@askluluberry

@speakfearlessly1989

@kiniloves-yoi

@juliettebbgamer

@ashcordova

@ticoerica

@lazuranna

@voltage-trash

@dreamfar628

[brigdh]

Reading Wednesday

The Pride of Chanur by C.J. Cherryh. A space opera more concerned with ethics and friendships than battles and politics. The Pride of Chanur is a merchant ship crewed by the Hani, a lion-like species in which the females are in charge of trade and diplomacy while the males stay back home and fight one another for control of powerful households. Captain Pyanfar is on a typical trip, docked at a trading station, when a strange, naked alien that looks like nothing she's ever seen (though readers will quickly recognize it as a human) runs onto her ship. Another species, the Kif, soon demand its return, but Pyanfar refuses, as much because she dislikes the Kif and is happy to annoy them than for any deep reason. That choice lands her and her crew in escalating danger, as the Kif are determined to get the alien back and will declare war to do it and other species are drawn into the conflict. A great deal of the book is about the difficulty of translation; even with long-contacted species like the Kif, the Hani are forced to communicate in short, broken sentences and deal with deep cultural differences. With the humans, they're starting from the ground up, and matters like gestures, clothing, and food are as prone to misunderstandings as language itself. How do you even tell the difference between an sentient alien and an animal, if you have nothing in common? I loved this sociological part of the book. Unfortunately, I didn't like much of the rest of The Pride of Chanur. I didn't connect emotionally with any of the characters, I found the descriptions of space travel deeply confusing, and I have no idea at all how Hani society is supposed to function. For example, it seems like the male fights over households are supposed to be one-on-one, but then we're given a description of a whole crew invading and pillaging an enemy house. Is that illegal? Are there laws regulating these fights? What does a new male leader mean to the daughters and sisters of the former ruler – are they cast out too, or do they just have to obey a new boss? All of this is pretty important to the climax, but I just couldn't figure it out. The Pride of Chanur has its positives, but I don't think I'll be reading the sequels unless someone talks me into it. Cibola Burn by James S.A. Corey. The fourth book in The Expanse series, and so inevitably this review will contain spoilers for previous books. After the events of Abaddon's Gate , humanity suddenly has access to thousands of solar systems, most with inhabitable, Earth-like planets. And yet in a very believable, petty example of human nature, we're fighting a war over just one. The Cibola in the title is metaphorical; it's one of the mythical 'cities of gold' the Spanish conquistadors searched and killed for in their early days in the New World. The idea of being beyond the law, of pillaging fortunes from a new land, is a major theme in this book, and Cortez and his methods get name-dropped at least twice. A group of refugees, homeless after Ganymede was torn apart by war, riots, and alien monsters, settle on a planet they name Ilus. At the same time, the UN grants the Royal Charter Energy corporation the exploration and exploitation rights to the same planet, which they've named New Terra. This immediately sets up several consequential questions that no one has the answer to: since the refugees beat RCE to Ilus/New Terra by a year, do they have rights of priority? Does the UN even have the authority to give out contracts over these new planets? Where do Mars and the Outer Planet Alliance stand? Who owns the lithium ore the refugees have already mined and transported into space? And since the rest of humanity is months or even years away from Ilus/New Terra, can anyone stop RCE and the refugees from killing each other before politicians settle the matter? James Holden and the crew of the Rocinante are sent in to act as mediators, since a) Holden is, by this point, a popular celebrity, and b) as an Earth native and former OPA operative, he can be seen as neutral. Unfortunately matters quickly grow beyond his ability to control them, particularly when the defense system set up by long-dead aliens wakes up and adds a third front to the killing-everyone campaign. As always in The Expanse series, we have a set of new POVs. Unfortunately this time I didn't like any of them as much as usual. Holden repeats again, and our others are Basia Merton, Elvi Okoye, and Dimitri Havelock. Basia was formerly a minor character in Caliban's War, the father of one of the other kidnapped children. His son died, and in reaction to that Basia has become fiercely, perhaps stupidly, protective of his surviving family. They are some of the refugees, and Basia's grief leads him to make several dangerous choices when confronted by the RCE. He's a sympathetic character, but I just didn't find him as captivating as Avasarala, Bobbie, or Pastor Anna. Havelock was also a minor character before; he was Detective Miller's partner in Leviathan Wakes. Now he's second-in-command of security for the RCE. It's just too bad that his boss is Murtry, a straight-up sociopath who doesn't care how many people he has to kill to give RCE an advantage. Havelock explicitly says that he's overly influenced by the people around him, and so goes along with Murtry's plan for far too long. As a character arc, this did not work for me at all. There is some suspense in waiting to see if Havelock will grow a spine and do the right thing, but it's not nearly as intriguing than if he was genuinely convinced of Murtry's ideas and had to change his mind, or was in some sort of physical danger that prevented him from helping the heroes. Finally, we have Elvi, an exo-zoologist working as part of RCE's science exploration team. More than anyone else, she understands Ilus/New Terra and how very different it is from Earth, despite superficial similarities. She makes several important discoveries that save lives, but she's dangerously naive regarding politics and human relationships. She also falls desperately in love with Holden and begins to act like a besotted teenager; this is believable as a reaction to the stress and life-threatening circumstances she finds herself in – and the narration does make it clear that's what's happening – but it was still somewhat annoying to read. It was hard to take her seriously as a respected professor when she was blushing and stammering over her crush. Overall, I didn't like this book as much as the previous ones in the series. It just wasn't as exciting and the characters weren't as likeable. On the other hand, I did really enjoy the found-family vibes between Holden and his crew: Naomi, Amos, and Alex. (Which reminds me: I forgot to mention the AMAZING scene in Caliban's War where Holden literally proposes marriage to the whole crew. He's half-joking, suggesting it more as a way for them to easily become co-owners of their spaceship than to actually enter into a poly romance, but I still loved it.) We have Amos nearly murdering people when Naomi is taken hostage, Naomi issuing vicious threats when Alex's safety is endangered, and Holden going to new extremes to protect Amos. It's just a whole circle of love and family-of-choice and it is my very favorite trope. I'm totally giving this book an extra star just for that. In general, Cibola Burn is a step down in quality from previous books, but I'll still be reading the sequel. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant: Survival Tips for the Horticulturally Challenged by Veronica Peerless. A really excellent how-to guide for houseplants, possibly the best book on the topic I've ever seen. It's split into two halves, with "The Basics" offering general tips and "The Houseplants" giving specific guidance on 119 common species. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant is aimed towards newbies, but it also included tricks that were new to me, such as how to save an overwatered plant by wrapping its soil in newspaper. I particularly liked the troubleshooting offered in "The Houseplants"; it explains, for instance, that yellow leaves on one plant might mean it needs more water, while yellow leaves on another species might indicate that it's getting too much sunlight. It's easy to look up your specific plants and get tips on how to best care for them. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant is available as both an ebook and a physical book, but I'd highly recommend the physical book. It's beautifully laid out, with a collage-like style that mixes photographs and abstract cutouts. A great book for anyone who raises houseplants, 'horticulturally challenged' or not! I read this as an ARC via NetGalley. One Way by S.J. Morden. A sci-fi thriller set in the near future: 2048, to be exact. Mars has been visited, and it's time for humanity to build a permanent base there for the ease of future astronauts. But how to do it? Robots are expensive and prone to breaking down, whereas human labor is even more expensive and when they break down there's likely to be lawsuits from family members. Xenosystems Operations, the company who has contracted with NASA to build the base, hits on the perfect solution: convict labor. After all, it's not like they can escape; they'll be on fucking Mars, and there's not a lot of spare oxygen or rocket ships for them to steal. XO runs a private prison in California (named Panopticon; subtle, Morden), so all they have to do is select a team of seven people with life-sentences who are willing to serve the rest of their time on Mars, give them a few months of training, and send them on a one-way journey – even once the base is built, they'll be a need for maintenance and janitorial services, since astronauts have more important things to do than unclog drains or charge batteries. In exchange, the prisoners get work they can be proud of and a bit more freedom in their daily lives. Frank is our narrator and main character. Sentenced to life for murdering his son's drug dealer, Frank is a former construction worker, an obviously useful background. He and his team of six other prisoners, each with their own specialities (transportation, plumbing, electricity, computers, hydroponics, and a doctor), plus an XO employee to be their guard/boss, quickly find out that XO has cut every possible corner to save money. They have no redundant supplies in case of wear or mishap; broken or missing necessary parts; barely enough food to get them through; problems with producing their own oxygen, water, and power; and not enough training for emergencies. Unsurprisingly, this quickly starts to take its toll, and people die in easily preventable accidents. Except by the third death, Frank suspects that they're not just accidents – someone on the team is deliberately murdering the others. He has no one he trusts, help from Earth is months away, and in the harsh environment of Mars the smallest mistake can kill, so Frank is left to figure out the murderer by himself before he's the next victim. Morden is an excellent writer of tension; there's several wonderfully dramatic scenes involving characters in spacesuits running out of time on their oxygen supplies that were heart-pounding and thrilling. Unfortunately he's not a great author of mysteries. The murderer is SUPER obvious, so much so that it makes Frank look dumb for taking so long to figure it out. At the point where Frank discovers a bunch of empty oxycontin packets around the murderer's bed and still doesn't think it might be him, I had to groan out loud. (Of course, being a drug addict doesn't make one a murderer, except that this is totally the kind of book where it does.) I also had problems with Morden's science writing; I think he expects his average reader to know more about space than I, at least, do. There was a lot of techno-jargon I didn't know, and I never could manage to picture what the base Frank and the others built was supposed to look like. On the other hand, I am highly predisposed to like a book that's this critical of the use of convict labor for corporate profit, and the excerpts scattered throughout of XO's private communications really make it clear how far down the path of evil a bit of greed and pure capitalism can get you. Hooray for a nice dose of contemporary politics in my escapist reading! I do want to note – because I didn't know before reading it – One Way is not a stand-alone. A sequel is due out soon. Nonetheless, One Way ends at a good point, with almost all of the plot threads wrapped up. You won't feel like you've gotten only half of the story if you read this book alone. I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.

[DW link for easier commenting, if you prefer]