#and she has definitely earned that recognition and praise

[lightscamerabitchsmileee]

[takamimami]

Does Heaven Know You're Missing?

Pairing: Eustass Kidd + f!Reader (no use of y/n)

this post from @innerfare sparked this thought and I had to get it down on paper :3

CW: SMUT, pretty mild tbh, fingering, nipple play, Kid praises you, calls you 'angel' --- word count: 3.3k

NSFW; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS KEEP IT MOVING

Summary: Modern AU - Body Piercer!Kid x Reader You go with your best friend to your favorite tattoo and piercing parlor to get your new piercings resized and you end up getting very acquainted with the body piercer. OR Eustass Kid lets it slip that he thinks nipple piercings are hot so you let him pierce your nipples in hopes that he will fall in love with you, but turns out he already has. *Jewelry reference*

After a long nine months, you were finally on your way back to your favorite tattoo and piercing parlor, Punk Needles, to get your finally healed nipple piercings sized down. The past few months had been hell waiting for them to recover, but you couldn’t be happier with the results.

As you approached the entrance of the shop, you caught a whiff of marijuana lofting through the air, and you followed the scent over to two broad-shouldered men standing near the side entrance of the shop. Your cheeks immediately flush as you lock eyes with Kid, his eyes trailing you shamelessly as a small grin forms on his lips. The same grin he tried desperately to hide when you showed up in his chair nine months ago telling him you wanted your nipples pierced. 

The blonde standing next to him let out a chuckle before whistling over to your group, your best friend's head shooting in his direction before giving him a playful wave. 

“You ready to make me hurt, Killer?” she calls out to him playfully, his tattoed arms raising to cross over his chest as he lets out another chuckle. 

“I just hope you’re ready, gorgeous,” he calls back flirtatiously, and you turn to look at your friend as you watch her try her best to play it cool. Your group walks through the doors and immediately the receptionist calls out to you, her chipper voice ringing through the lobby.

“Hiya! Welcome into the shop,” she chimes, before a look of recognition dawns on her face. “You girls have been here before, yeah?”

Simultaneously you and your best friend nod, and she speaks up before you can, “Yep, I’ve got a tattoo appointment with Killer, and she’s here to resize her piercings.”

You smile gently as you hand your ID over to the receptionist, whose name you couldn’t recall, and she sets it down on the counter next to her as she begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“Okay, perfect. I’m going to go make sure the boys are ready for you, and I’ll be right back,” she grins, a hint of mischief on her face as she ducks through the doorway behind her counter and disappears. 

Your best friend laughs giddily as she fills out her paperwork, nudging you in the arm to grab your attention. “Are you excited to let Kid see your tits again?” she teased, and her comment earned an eye roll from you as you pretended to ignore her.

Your mind flashes back to your first time in the shop; your best friend had dragged you with her to go see the guy she’d been talking to at his job. That was the only context you’d received as you walked through the doors, your eyes immediately locking with a pair of amber orbs as he stood next to the orange-haired receptionist, towering over her as he seemed to grimace at your arrival. Ever since that day, you had taken your friend up on her offer to tag along with her to the shop, taking every chance you could to see him again. He was possibly the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, his red hair usually pulled back with a headband, his face riddled with piercings, and his broad chest a sight to behold. You were almost positive he purposely wore t-shirts that were a size too small, but you definitely didn’t mind seeing as it made it easier to see the muscle definition on his torso.

After a few visits to the shop you had finally introduced yourself, and after you did Kid started coming around whenever Killer came to you and your best friend’s get-togethers you often hosted. One night in particular you were hosting a bonfire, and everyone was drunkenly talking about things they found most attractive in a partner. You only tuned into the conversation when Kid spoke up, and he mentioned he loved a woman with piercings, even chuckling that nipple and clit piercings were his personal favorite. 

The thought of the latter made you flinch, but you had secretly been contemplating getting your nipples pierced for a bit. You knew the shop had a piercer, so the next time you paid them a visit you threw caution to the wind and signed the paperwork. 

A flash of orange curls pulled you from your thoughts and the receptionist returned with a smile still plastered on her face. “Killer is setting up, but he said you can head back whenever you’re ready,” she hums towards your friend, before turning to face you. “And I’ll take you back to Kid’s spot whenever you’re ready, angel .”

You were almost certain there was a teasing tone in her voice as she said it, but she turned around quickly and walked towards the doorway again, turning to look for you over her shoulder. Your foot stuttered before finally responding and following her, your mind going back to your previous daydream.

“So, are you going to do the piercing or just keep teasing me?” you snapped as you crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously. 

Kid moves closer to you, towering over you as you sit in the chair. He leans down so he’s closer to your height, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses.

“Relax, angel, I’ll give you what you want,” his tone was more seductive than intended, causing you to clench your legs tighter. “It's just not every day an innocent little thing like you comes in asking to get her nipples done as her first piercing.”

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the session, and you had to focus on your breathing each time his hands touched your skin. When he was done his eyes lingered on your naked chest a little longer than what would be considered professional, before he bit his lip to suppress the smirk on his face and looked up to meet your gaze.

“They look perfect,” he says as he stands up and turns around to discard the needles and his gloves, you’re face growing hot at the suggestive compliment. Kid must have noticed your blush as he returns with a new pair of gloves and some bandages to cover the piercings with.

“The piercings, angel,” he chuckles, his eyes not moving to meet yours as you feel your flush deepen. Once he’d secured the bandages to protect your piercings you tugged your tank top down gently, you’re heart pounding in your chest due to the tension in the room.

You chuckle to yourself as you think about that encounter, turning the corner to see Kid perched on his stool, finishing with his sanitization as he turns to greet you with a smirk.

“Hello again, angel,” he says teasingly, the nickname sending a pleasant chill down your spine. You straightened your shoulders as you walked over to the chair in the middle of the room, trying to hide the inevitable nervousness you seemed to feel whenever the two of you were near each other. “How are those piercings healing up?”

You smiled warmly as you heard the door click, “Good, the tenderness is completely gone, so I think I’m ready for some new jewelry.” Kid smiles at you as he slides his stool over to you, eyes trailing up your body curiously, before stopping at the obvious peaks of your nipples poking through your thin shirt. He shifts in his seat as he looks over them approvingly, looking up at you when you don’t move.

“You gonna let me see ‘em, or you gonna pretend to be shy again?”

His question has you unable to respond as you grab the bottom of your shirt with shaky hands. You lift the shirt over your head and take it off completely, immediately regretting not just lifting it when the cold air of the room runs over your now exposed shoulders. You feel goosebumps prickle onto your skin and your nipples harden reactively, and you swear you see Kid’s eyes widen slightly as he notices.

He moves closer to you and reaches out his hand, stopping just before making contact, “Is it alright if I touch you?” he asks gently. You know he’s only being professional and considerate, but the ache between your legs wish he meant it in the way you were craving. 

“They look great,” he comments, and you bite your lip as you feel your cheeks grow hotter. You hated the effect he had on you, especially because it didn’t feel like you had anywhere near the same one on him. “I have some custom pieces I can put on you if you want, otherwise we have some basic barbels in different sizes and colors.”

His eyes meet yours again and you swear they are a shade darker than normal, his face seeming almost strained as he spoke. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them into the garbage as you contemplate your response.

“Can I see the custom ones?” you inquire, and Kid spins around to grab a jewelry case from his workspace and hands it over to you. You grab the case from him and look over the pieces, trying not to drop your jaw at the craftsmanship of the jewelry. As if he suddenly remembered something, Kid pops up from his stool, walking across the room with a few purposeful strides before returning with a small box in his hands.

“There’s also these,” he says sheepishly, running his hand through his hair as he hands you the box. You ignore the nervousness he seems to be exhibiting and look over the jewelry, smiling at the intricacy of the angel wings on either end of the barbells. “I just finished them a few days ago, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to sell them or not.”

Your head snaps up, looking up at Kid as he gazes down at you, “You made these?” He nods and your mouth falls open slightly, unable to hide your astonishment. You look back over the jewelry before handing the case back to him, clutching the small box with the angel wing jewelry in your hand. “I’ll take these.”

The smile that curls onto Kid’s lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you as he turns around to return the jewelry case to his desk, slipping on another pair of gloves before returning to you. He takes a seat on his stool again and begins cleaning the piercings gently, making quick work of changing the jewelry before handing you a mirror to look over his work.

You smile to yourself at the new additions, a satisfied smile on your face as you look over to him, “They’re perfect!”

Kid smiles triumphantly as he moves over to the sink on the other side of his room, turning the water on to wash his hands. He remains quiet as he returns to his spot on his stool, rolling closer to you as he hands you your shirt that had fallen to the floor at some point. 

His proximity once again has your body reacting to him, goosebumps prickling at your skin again and your nipples hardening into stiff peaks. Kid’s eyes flash down to them as he notices, quickly averting his gaze back up to your face as he speaks again. 

“They may be a bit sensitive for the next few hours since this is the first time you’ve changed the jewelry,” he rasps, licking his lips as he strains his eyes to not look back down at your breasts. “But it should just be a dull soreness, nothing serious.” 

You notice he seems more flustered than the other times he had pierced you, and you don’t know how to interpret his reaction to you. You found yourself staring at his painted lips as he spoke, and even after he finished. 

“You alright, angel,” he questions, his voice sounding strained. You clear your throat and lick your lips as you look up into his eyes, his face only inches from yours as you nod.

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your eyes moving down to the growing tent in his pants. You’re not sure where your boldness came from but the words are leaving your mouth before you have time to give them a second thought, “Are you alright, Kid?”

He follows your gaze before looking back up at you, the wicked grin on his face telling enough. “No,” he says honestly, eyes sinking back down to your still-exposed breasts, “I haven’t been alright since you fell from the sky and landed in my chair nine months ago, angel.”

You furrow your brow as he meets your gaze again, swallowing hard as he leans his in until his lips nearly touch your ear. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I met you.”

Kid’s breath tickles the skin of your neck as he shifts slightly, angling his face towards yours. You take advantage and lean towards his ear, your boldness surprising you once again.

“It’s about time you said something,” you breathe, doing your best to keep your voice steady, “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move.”

You only catch a glance of Kid’s smirk before he crashes his lips to yours, the warmth of the kiss a harsh contrast to the chill in the air. You feel his lips moving in rhythm with yours, lost in the taste of him as his tongue prods your lips open, slipping inside your mouth gingerly. The kiss turns rough once he gets a taste of your mouth, his hand reaching up to grip your chin as he pulls you upright in the chair. Your legs swing around the edge of the chair as Kid slides in between them, beckoning you into his lap hastily as his free hand grips your waist.

You quickly become putty in his hands as he pulls you to him, your hips seated right about the growing erection in his pants. Your body moves on its own, your hips grinding down onto his as the hand he has on your chin moves to the back of your head and tugs the hair at the base of your neck. He reluctantly breaks the kiss to leave a messy trail of kisses down your neck, sucking down on the tender spot where your neck meets your collarbone. Your hands reach up and you run your fingers through his hair, trying to suppress the moans building in your throat.

A satisfied hum leaves his mouth as he kisses over the skin there, pulling away to look at you once more. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, angel,” he teases, the sound close to a growl as he leans you backward, your back hitting the chair you were previously sat in as he keeps you in place on his lap. You were suddenly reminded that your shirt was still off, and Kid’s eyes trailed down from your face to your decorated nipples. “...But I had to wait for these to heal.”

He cups your breast tenderly before dipping his head and running the flat of his tongue over your nipple slowly, looking up at you through his lashes in search of any soreness. You bite down on your bottom lip as he repeats the action, a damp heat pooling between your legs as he begins flicking the tip of his tongue over it quickly. He lets out a satisfied growl before taking the entire nipple in his mouth, reaching his hand over to the other one to not deprive it of attention. Your fingers lace through his hair as you feel his fingers pinch your nipple lightly before dancing over the skin of your stomach, stopping to trace the waistband of your leggings.

He looks up at you with lust-filled eyes, silently checking for permission before slipping his hand into your pants and running a thick finger through your wet folds.

“Hmmm, so wet for me,” he praises, letting out a satisfied hum as he takes your other nipple in his mouth, this time teasing the sensitive but with his teeth. The sensation sends your head back against the chair behind you, your lips falling open as a quiet whimper leaves them. You feel Kid trace a few lazy circles around your clit before sinking his middle finger into you. A louder moan leaves your mouth and your head shoots up to look down at him again, this time his eyes trained on you as he relishes in the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

The squelching sounds from his finger moving inside you have a deep blush rising on your cheeks, yet you can’t seem to look away from him as he smirks up at you devilishly. It's only when he adds a second finger that you screw your eyes shut and drop your head back again, the stretch of his fingers mixed with the feeling of his tongue on your nipples enough to have you moaning his name.

“K-Kid,” you stutter, trying your best to keep your voice down as he presses his thumb to your clit and begins rubbing rough circles around it, making the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“Hmmm, you sing so pretty,” he praises you again, trying his best to ignore the straining erection in his pants that was begging for attention. “Keep singing and cum for me, angel.”

You gladly do as you’re told and arch your back, your hips bucking into Kid’s hand as you feel your orgasm ripple through your core. You gasp for air as the waves of euphoria wash over you, your vision going blurry as Kid fucks you with his fingers, prolonging the glorious scene before him for as long as he can. His hand wraps around the middle of your back to support you as your hips finally still, coming down from your high as you slacken in his arms.

Once your breathing levels out Kid pulls you up to his chest, holding you close as he plants gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, finally finding your lips again as you run your hands along his chest. When you break apart you glance down at the tent still painfully present in his pants, but he tilts your chin back up to look at him, an amused smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive.”

You try to protest, but Kid silences you with another kiss. He smiles into the kiss and then pulls away suddenly, looking up at you with adoration-filled eyes. 

“Does heaven know you’re missing, angel?”

You don’t have time to entertain his question before a knock at the door has you nearly jumping out of his lap, Kid laughing gruffly as the person on the other end of the door calls out your name. 

“One sec!” You race to pull your shirt back on before running your hands over yourself, eyeing Kid who has now moved to the other end of the room, flipping through the paperwork on his desk as you move to open the door for your best friend.

“‘Bout time! I’m already done with my tattoo,” she chastises, “Lemme see your tits!”

You laugh as you brush past her, walking out toward the door awkwardly before shooting a quiet ‘thank you’ towards Kid. He doesn’t move and you make your way down the hall towards the lobby, before realizing you didn’t pay for the jewelry and turning back around towards the room.

You peek your head back in the door and Kid is sitting on his stool again, his face buried in his phone as he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden return.

“I… I didn’t pay you for these,” you stutter, unable to look him in the eyes after what just happened between you two. You can already feel the blush rising in your cheeks as he stands and makes his way over to you, grabbing your chin and pulling you into another sloppy kiss.

“I’ll come over tonight after I get off, you can pay me then.”

the idea of eustass kid calling me 'angel' will never not make my knees weak :3 sorry for the limited smut, this ended up being so much longer than I thought it was going to be. I just really wanted to drive home the sexual tension because he makes me crazy lol As always, feel free to message me or leave a like or comment to let me know what you thought :3

Do not repost or translate.

[whiskeyswifty]

One of my favorite things about TTPD is definitely the thread of what makes an artistic genius a genius that runs through it. Specifically, the very concept of genius as it pertains to Taylor swift and how she herself has evolved that definition within her own field, how she mocks it and interrogates it on this album. But also the way it conflates with how we dub her a genius these days; artistically, strategically, philosophically (depending on your mileage). The crux of the issue ultimately is that historically, geniuses are often characterized as men who are lonely and flawed to the point of unsociable. It is in fact their genius that tortures them and isolates them and subsumes them and makes them flawed. And then in turn, the only men who can create great works of genius must also possess those traits because they are decided markers of genius, and so on and so forth. Women geniuses, the few that earn that moniker, in turn are often marked by caveats tacked onto any praise or recognition of their genius work. (It’s all non-cis-men “geniuses” really but for the sake of this discussion, we’re talking specifically about women v. Men because Taylor is a cis woman in a predominantly cis male controlled space) In Taylor’s case, it’s fearless deserved AOTY because it’s impressive….. for a teenage girl writing about teenage girl things, instead of simply saying the album itself being a great work of genius deserving of the award regardless of her age and it’s subject matter. Another being instead of simply saying she is skilled at distilling the human experience, she is deemed adept at distilling the girl experience, the girlhood of her weepy, exuberant little girl audiences. Always a qualifier, always a subset and an othering of female genius. It’s genius…. Within the confines of the handicap of being a woman. 

If you trace back her relationship to this confine, at first, she did try to fit into this genius mold sculpted by men. Young and girlish as she was, she still peddled the idea that she too was churning out these genius songs from a sort of tortured and lonely isolation, albeit scribbled in gel pen ink with kicking feet and yearning sighs, but in isolation all the same. I say peddled not because she isn’t a fabulous solo songwriter but she wasn’t often in total isolation as per the (male) genius handbook, and there in lies the very thing her genius begins to push back on, and the genius presentation of women that often clashes with the defined genius mold of men. She’s incredibly social. Vivacious and thrives being around friends and family, and her line of work traffics in that vivaciousness as a pop star, smiling and dancing and giggling on stage for thousands. She enjoys collaboration and throwing parties and meeting new people professionally and personally. She seeks out interactions with her own fans, to varying degrees over the years but still her hand is always reaching out across the barricade. How much of this is purely a product of a public persona and how much is her innate personal qualities is a moot argument, because the fact remains the same that this is the persona we are presented with, who is the antithesis of the male genius. And it’s not to say that she isn’t lonely or flawed or tortured about it. 

TTPD specifically interrogates that idea both through the lens of observing a guy who fancies himself a genius in that very male way, but also her own representation of genius in the world and how she repudiates the male genius mold foisted upon her. Mocking the stereotypical misanthropic traits of this male “genius” she encountered on songs like the title track, but also mocking the way he (and us by extension) try to classify her as a genius with all the trappings of one. Going as far as to refer to herself as an idiot in contrast, not intellectually perhaps but in terms of her comprehension of the world and her place in it, she doesn’t feel like a genius, not the way the man she’s speaking to seems to cartoonishly categorize them anyway. She doesn’t want to hole up in the Chelsea hotel with a typewriter wallowing in the burden of her genius because she doesn’t feel burdened by it that way, but rather her genius makes her curious and compelled to continue living boldly and blindly. If his (and the world’s) idea of genius is that willfully lonely tortured poet, then she’s much happier to cast herself as a modern idiot. She continues to push back as the album progresses, wherein she doesn’t claim she doesn’t get lonely or she isn’t flawed, but simply that she doesn’t define herself that way or even let those feelings steer her. Broken Heart is a quite literal example where she endures one of the biggest heartbreaks known to humankind and touts her ability to continue to perform her job due to the fortitude of her compartmentalization, not letting it decide how she will live her life. The Prophecy, where she bangs her fists against the forces that insist that she must remain in the lonely tortured poet mold in exchange for this genius, be they arcane or the small mindedness of modern world around her. She becomes animalistic, feral as she howls at the moon even, refusing to be shackled. Which brings us to Who’s Afraid, the most violent push back against the male genius you could say. She does not retreat to the folklore cabin in the woods as she once did when she is lonely and flawed and tortured, but instead lashes out and monstrously displays her emotion in the faces of those who scorned her, promises to never retreat and to instead haunt them, and perhaps all of us, forever. A Frankenstein’s monster of herself, where she is both doctor and creation. A story whose comparison is apt for its subject matter, but also in its creation that gets to the core of how she redefined genius. 

Mary Shelley, a woman, wrote Frankenstein, a seminal work of literary genius, and while the book is about a genius tortured in isolation by his genius creations, she didn’t write it in lonely tortured isolation herself. She came up with it in a house full of friends where they played a game to see who could come up with the best ghost story, for fun. The impetus of its creation was to share it with others and emotionally connect with them. The manuscript closes out TTPD with a harrowing but frank recounting of a transformationally damaging relationship in her life where the song itself confronts how she hid the scope of the damage from others, and even to a degree herself, behind the genius works she created about that relationship. Ironically, some of which are the single works that had the big wigs and critics and greek chorus of the music world finally cement her genius. The lemonade out of lemons she could have said and been done with it. But it wasn’t the declaration of genius that those works afforded her that brought her closure and peace on the matter, as the Manuscript dictates. It was the way the work of artistic genius was received and emotionally resonated and connected with people that allowed her to emotionally connect to it herself over the years and create more art from it until she finally understood the experience fully. Understood what the agony of it all had been for back in her early twenties, and thereby understood what the genius is all for now. If being a woman is seen as a handicap by her genius peers or by those who decide genius in others, merely a hysterical woman or a weepy little girl, perhaps it also could be a huge reason for why she’s able to redefine it, due to her access and ability to embrace those hysterical weepy emotions as only women are allowed to do in modern society writ large.

And so Taylor reshapes the identifying image of our genius as a bitter, tortured, stoic man in his cabin into a smiling face of a woman overwhelmed by a thousand emotions, clasped hands reaching out over barricades. Or one of eyes searching and recognizing herself in the faces of 80,000 people in an audience. Even seeking artistic collaboration with her friends that often results in sharing ghost stories of their own kind out of a desire to connect with each other. As sad and heartbroken and lonely she may feel, she will never be alone and the great mistake of the tortured and isolated male genius is thinking that he must be. If you believe that there is some divine purpose that bestows artistic genius upon a person, what Taylor Swift discovered and redefines and insists upon is that it is not a lifelong curse of loneliness but a gift of boundless and eternal human connection. 

[darkpoisonouslove]

HotD S02E07

Honestly, I do not have much to say about this episode (I think... it's still possible for my thoughts to spiral out of control as I start writing them out). There was barely any Greens content, which made me a little bored, I have to say. The thing is that they are kind of dragging their feet here. I get the feeling they're trying to get as many seasons as possible out of a single book but, like, maybe you could have explored the events of season 1 in two seasons then? We literally sprinted through more than 20 years in one season and now things are moving quite slowly. Anyway, more details under the cut:

Does Addam realize he could have just taken Seasmoke and fucked off to do whatever he wants? What was Rhaenyra going to do? Fight him and risk her life or at least losing Syrax to someone that isn't even her enemy in the war? Sure, he doesn't know Valyrian but Seasmoke didn't really seam to give much of a shit about that anyway. What I'm saying is basically that Rhaenyra is so lucky that Addam's ambitions of earning recognition only go so far because Seasmoke definitely would have fought Syrax tooth and nail to protect Addam if he had decided not to bend the knee.

Meanwhile Corlys during this whole episode:

His interaction with Addam was so awkward! Well, gee, thanks, dad, for the praise! Are we going to see him actually do anything as Hand?

Jasper trying to talk Larys into breaking the news of Rhaenyra's new dragon rider to Aemond was so funny. You can clearly hear him thinking "Well, he already hates Larys. Why should I draw his ire? Honestly, Larys should just take one for the team and tell him the news, which will 100% set him off!" Larys refusing to be the scapegoat by going "Tis' but a fable." The Larys content is popping off these last few episodes! I have to say that it's funny how ineffective Aemond has made his own Council by being so harsh and completely unwilling to listen to any of them. If he hadn't made it so clear he doesn't give a shit about their opinions and would trample them down for daring to say anything, they might have warned him earlier and they could have prevented Rhaenyra from getting more dragons. Not like she didn't have to outsource bastards from King's Landing. Had Aemond known about any of this, he could have intervened in some way but he brought this on himself.

I see we're not going to address the Rhaenyra and Mysaria kiss from last episode.

Oscar Tully, the man that you are! I don't really have much to say about the whole Harrenhal segment besides how fun it was watching this young boy completely destroy Daemon in front of everyone. He even forced him into a situation where Daemon has to do what Oscar wanted of him and after this obvious demonstration that Daemon will turn on his allies with the wind, he's pretty much further cemented the impression he made on the Riverlands lords that they should never consider him their leader. I like how they made it understandable why Oscar is so set on keeping old oaths since that's the way the Riverlands function. The choice to only make Daemon "succeed" through factors that he has entirely no control of is priceless, it has to be said. At this point they can just write "loser" on his forehead.

That red cloak for Rhaenyra's maid is such a baffling design choice. She's supposed to be incognito but she stands out like a sore thumb. Besides, only someone rich can afford to have clothes dyed in such a rich red color. It instantly makes it obvious she is working for someone of noble birth and makes her so very easy to keep track of even in a crowd. Why have they done this?

Someone pointed out that putting up fliers when the general population is illiterate is a really funny way to advertise and I have to agree.

Respectfully, I do not give a shit about Hugh and his dead child. Maybe I would have if they had actually shown the death and didn't make him act like that's in the past already. Also, maybe once let a woman want something? I mean, they just lost their daughter. Let his wife want to have the power and means to prevent that from happening to other people and to any future children they might have ffs. This show only pretends to be feminist but will not let women want anything for 3 seconds.

I wrote a whole essay on Larys and Aegon and I've decided to make it the focus of its own post that you can find here.

Rhaena's scene is a perfect demonstration of what I mean when I say that they're dragging their feet. They just hinted that there will be exciting developments in the next episode and didn't do anything to actually move that plot line along. They could have easily cut that scene and put a condensed version of it in the next episode right before Rhaena actually gets to claim Sheepstealer.

The focus for this episode is obviously Rhaenyra's plan with the Dragonseeds and that has had some very interesting developments.

First of all, love how they show us that Rhaenyra is exactly her father's daughter. She hasn't thought this through anymore than Viserys did. He wanted her to be his heir but still married and raped Alicent because he just wanted to have sex and then proceeded to ignore his children from her and the problem that having legitimate sons is creating for the entire realm. Rhaenyra just wanted to have sex with Harwin and had three illegitimate sons and now to win the war for her own inheritance she has to take away the only symbol of legitimacy that Jace has. By very clearly showing that just random bastards that know nothing of the tradition surrounding dragons and can't even speak the language of the dragons can just as successfully ride them, she totally destroys the idea that Jace is somehow more than any Targaryen bastard that you can find at Fleabottom. Great job, Rhaenyra!

To be fair, all her options are equally bad but she's the one that did this. If she hadn't had illegitimate children, she literally wouldn't have been facing this problem. She just thought that her being princess and heir to the throne will give her a pass for anything but she has set Jace up for another war now. When she dies and he ascends the throne, there will be people who will think him not worthy of it because he's not any different from all the other bastards that were raised as the lowest links of society. There will also be the other bastards with dragons that can try to steal his throne. People were saying that Alicent is at fault for everything bad that happens to her children because she put Aegon on the throne but Rhaenyra is doing the exact same thing to Jace now and it is for a crown. She knew from the start her claim was shaky and that Jace's claim as her heir is even more shaky. She still proceeded because she wanted that crown.

The dragon tamers revolting against Rhaenyra's actions was such a great representation of how interlaced the dragons are with the classism and the "divine right to rule" of the Targaryens. To win this war Rhaenyra literally has to tear down the very pillars on which the supremacy of her house is built. She's self-destructing in slow motion because yes, she might win and get to sit the throne but the people will get disillusioned about the dragons being gods and about the Targaryens having the sole claim to the throne if any bastard can walk in directly from the street and claim a dragon. That voiceover in the beginning of season 1 saying the only thing that can destroy the House of the Dragon is itself sure is getting proven correct.

They finally let Rhaenyra do something that would tear down her image of the hero partially. Isn't it funny how she was so horrified by what happened to Ser Stefan but had no problem leaving 30-40 bastards to die? Sure, she had proof that her wild idea can be done once Addam and Seasmoke bonded but she knew very well that a lot of those people would die and she just didn't really care. Good thing they don't know about Ser Stefan's attempt and her reaction to that. Otherwise, they could easily turn their new dragons on her since she clearly still thinks them lesser.

I liked the way they did the bonding moment between Hugh and Vermithor. Hugh really showed he meant business and earned Vermithor's respect. But on the tail end of that, Ulf's scene was a fucking joke. Silverwing should have eaten him whole. Especially since he stepped in her clutch of eggs. Him getting a taste of what riding a dragon is like was still kind of cute. Also quite a revolutionary step for Westerosi society, though I have a feeling Rhaenyra won't like what that step leads to in the end.

Stop teasing me with mentions of Daeron, show! I am almost 100% convinced that they won't get him in here until season 3 so what's the point? Especially since we already heard the exact same information in the previous episode.

The writing for Alicent is so unserious fr. The way they are letting her wallow in this self-pity because there's nothing else for her to do is atrocious. Especially since the last trigger apparently was the riot in last episode, which is just an insult. What do you mean that all of her sacrifice and service to the realm was just so she would be hated? She's supposed to be beloved by the small folk. I hate the writers so much for the way they're constantly throwing stuff in to make you hate the Greens, and switching plot beats around, giving all the ones that earn sympathy to the Blacks. I've been ranting about that all season, however, so I'll leave it at that.

People that still think Alicent was trying to drown herself are so baffling to me. I could have told you she wasn't going to do it just from the trailer for this episode. It was clearly shown that she took off her dress before entering the lake. (Btw did the music while she was removing her green dress remind anyone else of "The Green Dress" theme from Rhaenyra's wedding? But a lot more solemn and just straight-up resigned? Which would fit perfectly with her stupid arc.) You don't take off your clothes if you mean to drown as it'd be easier to drown with more clothes on. And also, are we talking about the same woman? Alicent? Committing suicide????? After she saved Criston from doing the same???? I know she's on a downward spiral but she was just chilling in that water. That didn't look like someone trying to drown themselves. I guess that "I'm not sure I mean to [return to the city]" line could have sounded suicidal but I have only one thing to say to that: Alicent, get your ass back to the Red Keep right this instant istfg. Aemond just torched Aegon and she and Helaena were attacked and she just... leaves?????? Girl, what about your children? They need you! At least the trailer for the next episode shows that she's back.

People saying that Aemond should leave Helaena alone and not ask her to join the fight, you don't even deserve the RIP. I am different from you aka better. Please, for the love of fuck, get her on Dreamfyre and let her do something at last! They have completely glossed over and erased the effect that her son's death has on her but that at least means that she is totally capable of getting on her dragon and frying a bunch of people. I am seriously hoping that she will!

P.S. I might have known I was going to write a whole essay despite "having nothing to say". *sigh*

[sandraharissa]

Thor and Loki’s usefulness to Odin in being heir to their respective thrones is definitely some of the main things he values them for but I get the vibe ppl only bring it up to add to the list of proof that he’s narcissistic blah blah blah, when based on how serious he treats his job and his own striving to do his job flawlessly we can tell that he has the same attitude towards himself, and likely Frigga too, it’s just that she never does anything that would make her a bad queen and likely as a woman and queen consort she doesn’t have that much responsibilities and expectations put on her, and it’s also likely the same way he was treated himself when he was heir.

And imo it’s exactly how Loki views it too, based on his speech to Sif + W3 his primary reason to disturb Thor’s coronation was that Thor was unfit to rule, conveying that he feels a deep-rooted responsibility to ppl to for example not put a guy on a throne that’d immediately start a war. He’s got to have learned this from his parents, reflecting that he really internalized the responsibility as a royal family member aka part of the government that Odin expresses many times.

That’s one of the reasons why the play scene in TR felt off to me, cos it’s ooc for Loki. Loki always wanted to prove his worth in order to prove he deserves his place in the family, and I think it partially comes from this attitude he and Odin have towards the matter, hence if Loki did succeed in doing some great deal for Asgard and very tangibly proven his worth, and he’d start getting publicly praised ect. I think it’s way more in character for Loki to find the sudden widespread positive attention from strangers awkward, he'd only find it rewarding cos it’d bring him the kind of praise from his immediate family that he always wanted, but somewhat more importantly, he’d finally live up to his own standards.

Loki was always jealous of Thor but not in the sense he wanted the throne and everything that comes with it but that he wanted to be his equal. So he always wanted private recognition and not public recognition. Part of the jealousy was that Thor fit perfectly what was expected of a prince and Loki not so much, hence ‘failing’ at being a prince. But these ppl’s identities as royals and family members are so deeply intertwined. It’s like Loki’s family never expected anything of him to prove he belongs in the family but to Loki if he’s a bad prince then he’s a bad son, with others but especially Odin showing the same attitude that him being a father and a king are inseparable. And it was all manageable being the ‘underwhelming’ prince but then he finds out he’s not even legitimate by typical rules of monarchy and he’s not even related to them and he’s actually from the race of their sworn enemies, and suddenly in his mind nothing is guaranteed, his place in the family isn’t ‘earned’ with anything and he starts fighting for it and engaging in rivalry with Thor over it. If you get rid of the competition you automatically won, if you one up Thor then you’re the more ‘accomplished’ prince and son now.

It's almost like monarchy is a bad political system or smth and part of it is that it’s inherently traumatizing to the royal family and so the nicest scene we ever get of the three interacting are the two Odin death scenes in TR where they’re just kinda chilling and Odin forgot for quite a while about being a king and just kinda doesn’t really bring this back up in their last meeting cos he’s at peace with his time as king / his time being alive being over.

[musicarenagh]

“I Have Dreamt About Days Like These” - TiTi Owusu on First Music Video and Magazine Cover Since TiTi Owusu made her return to the music scene with the Afrohouse track "Odo Ntia," the Ghanaian singer has been on a roll. Aside from the single getting recognition from her fans and music lovers, "Odo Ntia" has equally been praised by media personalities and Ghanaian musicians. Barely two weeks after her comeback, TiTi Owusu dropped the visuals to the Jayso and MikeMillzOnEm-produced single. The 6Miludo Media-directed video marked TiTi Owusu's first music video since her debut with the Itz Tiffany-assisted "Karma" in 2019. https://twitter.com/TiTiOwusu/status/1625194808363851777?t=s9gE7GJ6muVPyIUPPkWDMg&s=19 The video, shot in the serene and dreamy Suntaa Beach Boxx in Kokrobite, captured the genre-bending singer enjoying a romantic beach date with her love interest. Other scenes feature TiTi Owusu serenading her lover, played by Ghanaian model Michael Angelo. The next day, the 26-year-old bagged another achievement, gracing the cover of Debonair Afrik's February-March issue. On her first-ever magazine cover, the fashion publication touched on her legacy as a singer and her body positivity campaign. The issue also saw Debonair crown TiTi Owusu as "the Queen of the New School." https://www.instagram.com/p/CooznZ8Ld0G/?igshid=OTJlNzQ0NWM= Reacting to the release of her first music video and first magazine cover, TiTi Owusu said, "I definitely feel a step closer to where I want to be; this is a reminder for me that I’m on the right path, and it tells me that I’ve come a very long way. I’m excited about what’s to come. I have dreamt about days like these, and I never dreamed they'd both happen to me in the same week,  currently paralyzed with joy." About TiTi Owusu TiTi Owusu is a Ghanaian genre-less and genre-bending singer and songwriter who earned the love and attention of Ghanaians after her participation in the nationwide competition, Vodafone Icons. Signed to the UK-based independent label and talent management company Skillions Global, TiTi Owusu has shown to be genre versatile after experimenting with R&B, hip-hop, Afro-pop, lovers rock, highlife, and many more. TiTi Owusu made her debut in 2019 with the women empowerment anthem “Karma” which featured renowned Ghanaian rapper and singer Itz Tiffany and showed the lovebird in her, in the Moelogo-assisted “Pray For Me.” TiTi Owusu began music as a child, accompanying her grandmother to The Church of Pentecost in Lapaz. Parties, weddings, and school events presented the perfect opportunity for TiTi to showcase her singing skills outside the church. Celine Dion, Nina Simone, Etta James, Asa, and J Cole are among TiTi's musical influences. She views live performances as her major strength as an artist because they allow her to interact with a live audience, and showcase her powerful, soulful and dynamic vocal range. Check out the music video below:  https://youtu.be/AilJT5u9eH8 Keep up with TiTi Owusu on Twitter, Instagram and TikTok.   

[lizziestudieshistory]

Books of 2022 - The Ships of Merior by Janny Wurts

Very mild spoilers - but the spoilers are for typical fantasy plotlines you will have predicted? Very classic fantasy tropes in this one, just done well.

I want to preface this review by saying that The Ships of Merior is not a bad book! It’s very far from it! I think this series (from the two books I’ve read so far) is criminally underrated and deserves so much more love than it’s currently getting. However, this lack of recognition is more of an under exposure thing, than a lack of positive reviews. Almost everyone I’ve seen read the series has lovely things to say about the books - and Wurts herself - which are entirely well founded.

Nevertheless, I am disappointed. I probably pushed my own expectations too high as I am actively looking for a new high/epic fantasy series to fall in love with, and several people have recommended these books for fans of Robin Hobb (high praise indeed!) It also hasn’t helped that I finished The Curse of the Mistwraith with only minor complaints, all of which could be explained away or improved upon by this book as the sequel. But the fact still remains that I was disappointed by The Ships of Merior and I’m upset about it.

However, before I go into the ins and outs of why I’m disappointed I want to say nice things about this book because I really do think Wurts deserves more recognition and I would hate for someone to avoid it because this book didn’t meet my expectations or wasn’t my exact cup of tea.

The first thing I have to mention is just how beautiful Wurt’s writing is. I really enjoy good prose and the more I read the less forgiving I get of bad or serviceable prose (glaring at modern fantasy here!) I definitely prefer lyrical styles, along the lines of the Hobbs, Kays, and Tolkiens of the fantasy world, and Wurts has earned her place amongst these giants of the fantasy genre. Her writing is beautiful, complex, and captivating. It’s just a wonderfully well written book and Wurts is a master of her craft. Although she uses the word ‘winnowed’ (or variations on) A LOT and, once I noticed it, it drove me to distraction.

I’m also a huge fan of the covers for these books. Wurts illustrates them herself and they perfectly fit the tone of the book, this isn’t a huge thing but it is a nice little positive and I think should be acknowledged!

So, into the meat of the novel, I was rapt by Lysaer’s side of the plot. Now, I really do need to say that I’m a Lysaer apologist because Lysaer is the exact type of character I love and I’ve yet to be convinced by Wurts that Lysaer is evil(?) or that the Fellowship of the Seven are actually justified in siding with Arithon. I love characters that are subversions of stock fantasy characters but portrayed in nuanced and interesting ways. Lysaer is Prince Charming - he’s intelligent, kind, courteous, good looking, competent, charismatic, and ultimately a good person - but he’s also a subversion of this trope by becoming more and more of an antagonist as we progress through these first two books. Wurts doesn’t let him remain the fairy tale prince - Lysaer has his home stripped out from under him in the first 100 pages of The Curse of the Mistwraith, and then we watch as he comes to terms with this loss, attempts to reclaim his ancestral kingdom, and finally start to rebuild that kingdom in Avenor over these first two books. During that time we see Lysaer fall from grace, in some respects, whilst remaining true to the character we met at the beginning. I’ve particularly enjoyed seeing Lysaer struggle with his concept of justice and how the curse of the Mistwraith from the first book has started to corrupt that sense of justice without Lysaer actually losing his innate sense of right and wrong. Justice itself is never in question, but Lysaer’s subjective interpretation is questioned by the plot (although the fact Lysaer has no free will over his interpretation drives me up the wall, again more on that below.)

I’ve really enjoyed how Lysaer’s sense of justice and education as a prince/politician has informed his actions in the book. How Lysaer is able to rebuild a kingdom with nothing to his name except his wits, intelligence, and sheer force of personality. Lysaer is meant to be a king and he’s good at it - Lysaer makes for a genuinely competent ruler, despite what the narrative may want us to think. I’ve found his relationships with the townborn, particularly with Diegan and Talith, fascinating to read about and I wish Wurts would include more of these scenes on page. I desperately want to see more of these interactions as Lysaer builds his power base and gains allies. Yet, tragically Wurts never shows us these relationships as they develop - well we get the odd scene and those are FANTASTIC, I still think about Lysaer sprinting across a building site to prevent clanborn prisoners from being made slaves in Avenor by the townborn mayors. However, Wurts often fades to black when Lysaer is about to start politicking in most situations and I’m left wondering why? She’s a fantastic author and has the skill to write intense, high stakes, political situations - so why doesn’t she show them? I’m left feeling that she thinks it would make Lysaer too sympathetic, they would be boring, or it would take too much of the spotlight off her darling Arithon... I don’t have the answer but it’s infuriating when it happens, and I really would place a bet on Wurts being worried over exposure to Lysaer would take the reader’s focus off Arithon, Dakar, and the Fellowship of the Seven.

In my opinion the focus on Arithon as our morally righteous character cheapens both Arithon and the book - it also makes The Ships of Merior tedious in places! In focusing so much on Arithon we lose some of the complexity from the characters, conflict, and thematic work. THEMES ARE IMPORTANT. But the possibility for truly complex characters. motivations, and themes is syphoned away because Wurts is determined to let the reader know that we should be siding with Arithon, that Arithon is the righteous party in this conflict, and Arithon is the better of the two half-brothers (Lysaer and Arithon share a mother.) However, this means we see too much of Arithon, too little of Lysaer, and Wurts failing to push her characters to become the most interesting forms of themselves.

Some people will like this, particularly those who prefer a black and white set up for fantasy, with perhaps a hint of moral greyness. I would much rather that Wurts took her characters to the places necessary to show the real implications of the situations they’re in. I’m all for making a plot or character as dark as needed to further the point of the story - keeping it light for next to no reason just makes for a disappointing character study.

The root of this problem really extends from Wurts’ overt preference for Arithon, it’s clear that he is her first priority for this story. And that’s fine, Wurts is allowed her preferred brother! However, that means I’m allowed mine, which is clearly Lysaer (I enjoy Arithon but he’s a much more standard, “reluctant hero” trope, character.) I’m also allowed to criticise the problems that arise as a consequence of Wurts’ preference being so prominent on page. Again, it cheapens the conflict Wurts is trying to build into the characters and plot. We don’t get to see the moral turmoil each of the princes are thrust into, the political situation between the clanborn and townborn becomes irrelevant to the reader because we know who is the morally right group to support because the clanborn side with Arithon, and the thematic clash between compassion and justice as personified by the Arithon and Lysaer respectively. The question over who decides who has the right to rule is made redundant, and the behind the scenes manipulation is left as black and white because the Fellowship of the Seven unapologetically support Arithon, whilst the Koriathain witches side with Lysaer. Land ownership, preservation versus progress, the loss of history, and so forth are all dropped themes that Wurts flirts with examining in a nuanced fashion but never really explores. Again THEMES ARE IMPORTANT, themes are the backbone of stories, they give stories a purpose and something interesting to say. Themes give books life and will make you think about them long after you’ve finished reading them. And tragically the thematic work here never quite takes off. This isn’t to say there are no themes, but they’re not handled particularly well, or with the nuance I’d expect from an author as skilled as Wurts clearly is…

Much like the morality of the characters I do think this lack of rumination on theme will work for a lot of other readers, most people don’t want a philosophy lesson from their epic fantasy. I do - most of the time. I’m a thematic and character driven reader, it’s what I look for! But for people who like simpler characters, heroic fantasy, and beautiful prose then this series will be a hit for you. Although if you're a plot based reader then it’ll probably be a bit slow. Seriously these books are fantastic, they’re just not my exact cup of tea - I thought that Wurts was going to be but the Wars of Light and Shadow isn’t quite there. They’re fantastic books and I really do want to stress this because I’ve been so negative - and I’ll definitely be reading the rest of the series at a slower pace and with readjusted expectations. 

I also want to end on a very, very petty note… I LOATHE Dakar. He’s unpleasant, frustrating, and completely ruined a lot of Arithon’s plotline for me. I’d probably have liked the Merior plot more than I did if Dakar had been removed from it - it wouldn’t solve my problems but it would ameliorate them! If I want to read about a Falstaff character (which I NEVER do) I’ll just reread or watch the Henry IV plays.

[anemcia]

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝟒: 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐯𝐬 ...𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔?

@anemcia @kiealer​

[ANNOUNCEMENT]

His impatience was evident with the light tap of his foot, mildly irritated with the fact his opponent was running late. What the hell could be taking so long? Has this ‘Tohma’ lost all nerve to face him? Not that she would have stood any chance, but her absence was a clear sign of her cold feet. Was it too much to ask for a little entertainment before he squares off with worthy challengers? Before he could vocalize his list of complaints, the answer would be delivered by one of the Gerudian warriors who informed the stadium of the current changes.

“Tohma's place will be filled by none other than our fantastic healer, Ninazu!” Aveil chimed, garnering the much needed approval of the crowd with thunderous claps and whistles.

His face would twist momentarily, questioning the position of a mere medic to fill in for someone who could actually fight. Did this newcomer have any combat experience? Anything that wouldn’t immediately bore him to death? If he wasn’t annoyed before, it was painted clear across his rigid expression. This has better be worth the wasted time standing here any longer, flicking his gaze towards his mate who had briefly called to him.

“No sweat, Slick! This’ll be easy! Tohma, Ninazu, or whoever the hell they pit ya against-- you got this!” Honey reassured, Cyto eagerly shouting his best wishes as a result. While he didn’t respond in the traditional sense, the message was well received with a nod of recognition. They would do no less than to cheer their praises, a high expectation neither have disappointed him on. 

The movement of his wings would eventually settle, attention now drawn to the activity up ahead. Seems like this ‘medic’ had arrived, those daggered blues doing nothing to shake his confidence aside from raising his brow with curiosity. While humans are naturally terrified or angered by his presence, this one carried a heavier aura... Was she personally slighted by his actions of the past? Cell could only hang onto the notion as a suspicion and nothing more.

“O-OKAY ladies n’ gents… Are you ready for this?! THE SHOW. WILL. GO ON!!” The champion would exclaim with a twinge of anxiety, doing what he could to keep himself together. He really did not want to be here at this very moment, NOT AFTER the threat that cockroach left him with! Buu could protect him for sure, but it didn’t make his job any less easy. He would be handed an updated set of notecards, reading it over carefully before finding his voice once more.

“IN THE RIGHT CORNER... You all know this monster TOO well-- it’s CELL. On top of being a VILE beast, he threatened the planet with his own TWISTED tournament! I may have stopped him before, but can anyone else muster the STRENGTH it took to take him DOWN?!...”

It took no time at all to earn the world’s ire from that description alone; booing, hissing, heckling, even a few objects hurled in his general direction. Hercule was quick to crack down on this, shouting at a few people not to litter the place if they don’t want to be banned from this facility. The soured reaction was a non issue, finding himself more amused than not. Good, it means he can feed off their absolute terror when the time is right. Besides-- he had all the support he could ask for in a time like this.

“INNNNN THE LEFT CORNER, this WONDERFUL GAL is one of our respectable staff members! She’s SUPER talented with healing people and can DEFINITELY give you one HELL of a WHOLLOPING if you get on her BAD SIDE! LET’S ALL ROAR FOR NNNNNIIIINAZZZUUUU!!”

The improvement in audience rapport was absolutely staggering, whistles and shouts of support were given to further encourage the new blood!! This earned a solid grin from the macho man, happy to see his friend carried enough courage in her heart to not be so shaken. With the flick of his wrist, he brought the mic close to his lips.

“ARE YA READY FOLKS?!! Round 4 is about to kick off!... HERE. WE. GO!! FIGHT!!”

...Yet, there was no movement, not yet. The chimera stood in place the same as before, though he could not help but slant his neck to the side and narrow his expression.

“...Am I missing something here? What’s with that look, ‘Ninazu’? Cat got your tongue?”

[theholycovenantrpg]

In the beginning was CASSIEL, an ANGEL loyal to the cause of the ANGELS. She is said to be IMMORTAL and uses SHE/HER pronouns. In this New Testament she serves as a MEMBER of the VIRTUES. Blessed be her name.

THE INDELIBLE MARK.

The first Virtue of Faith -- who had once been so uniquely tied to the Virtue of Hope -- was abruptly  felled and who would be awarded such prestigious honor but Cassiel? The honor suited her well and she bore the burden of its weight with the utmost grace. Her gift lay in the eye of the beholder and made her uniquely suited to serving as an ambassador to both Sanctus Terra and the realm of Infernum. Whoever looked upon her saw her luminous face, yes, but in her they also saw the definition of beauty -- which could render them utterly awestruck and completely defenseless if they did not bother to keep their wits about them and look beyond it. But in order for such an ability to be potent and near-infallible, Cassiel had to truly understand what her opponent thought to be beautiful in order to encapsulate it. But by and large, she knew that her own beauty was formidable in it of itself.  Though wielding a blade is something she is quite capable of, it is far more satisfying for her to know that her enemies were vanquished by nothing more than her wide, beautiful grin.

THE HISTORY.

It is said that God rendered her from the sweetness of laughter -- others say it is the pretty pink flush that is evoked from a doleful bat of the eyes in the cheeks of a maiden. Still others sigh that a creature as beautiful as was likely spun from the sweetness of honey cakes, decadent on the tongue and sweet to the point of saccharine. The consensus was this: there was nothing sweeter nor a creature more deserving of ardor than the angel Cassiel. Whether the reasoning be the ease of her rueful grin or the sweetness of her words, they feel to their knees before her like wheat to a scythe. God Himself dictated that it would be so, enchanted as He was by the wide eyes that looked up at Him, the laughter that spilled from her lips like wine from a cup overflowing -- a single draught of it, never quite enough. So He had her sit at the foot of His throne, keen to hear more of it, to see the smile the curved the edges of her lips, the glimmer in her eye as offering upon offering was set before her while her brethren bowed her head and gazed upon her as she sat on her gilded pedestal. She was granted the title of Cherubim -- an envious thing to hold, at one point in time, though she was never asked to wield a blade in the name of God or instill fear in the hearts of man in His name. The Father of Creation doted upon her, his angelic darling, so dear to all; but was it not a rather easy thing, to be an angel when one wanted for nothing?

When He was feeling benevolent, He would bid the favored angel to visit the earth, allowing some semblance of beauty into their finite, mortal lives. For a brief, blinding moment, all the beauty that they needed was brought to them in the form of the beguiling Cassiel, who was all too content to bask in the fawning and awe of the blessed humans -- their mystics, saints, and martyrs. And though she did not care much for them, she could not deny that there was a certain enticement that they offered; their saintliness would allow her to indulge in the libations that were placed at her feet. Do unto others, she’d intone, with a beatific smile upon her features, as you would have them do unto you -- for this is God’s greatest commandment. So, of course, they would treat each other as kindly as they could, and for her, God’s luminous messenger, they would bring finery; silks and satins, jewels and gold, creating wondrous art and rendering her image before the throne of God. She bid them to do more and how could they deny her? For in their goodness and virtue they could refuse her not. So when she stepped foot upon the earth, it was decadence. When she sat on the dais before the throne of God, it was unabated adoration. Cassiel’s want took root and it was no longer confined to the choir of angels within heaven, but it took root upon the soil of the earth and no mortal could deny her. Like a rot within the tooth, her need for libations and adoration grew.

The reach of her hunger reached a stone wall when she was ripped from her seat of prestige by her brethren’s mutiny. Being so close to God’s heart, they had known that there was little chance of her duplicity -- had thought that she would not dare to lift her blade against her Creator. It was clear that they knew little of her mercurial heart. What was once heaven began to turn into her hell and in her desperation to remain as an adored creature among them, she turned against those who she had once stood with. The names of the Cherubim, one after the other, were listed off by Cassiel. She stood before Michael, lips set in a pout, eyes wide, and sought to earn her place in the kingdom of Caelum through none other than blatant betrayal. Those who had sworn their fealty to God and had fought to keep him seated in His kingdom of rotten gold now had their wings torn from their backs or now found their lives forfeited. And all it had taken were no more than a bat of doleful eyes and a quirk of lips that had once been mistaken for Aphrodite’s. Michael had her sit and watch as one, then the other was dragged before the court of Caelum, demanded that she look on as they were forced to kneel and had their punishment allotted to them. How she sighed as she sat and watched, eyes flickering this way and that in boredom as she began to realize that the eyes of all were not turned towards her -- but to those who had been too prideful to think of their self-preservation.

Once she used to sit in a place of honor, used to be regarded as someone that was adored and coveted in equal measure. Cassiel was used to wanting for nothing, once imbibed in the ripeness of existence and lavished in the utterly unique experience of living in a state of utter perfection. But that was torn away from her -- brutally stolen in a whirlwind of fire and fury. As the world began to evolve and breathe anew, so too did her need for her place of prestige. Carefully, she cultivated that which she had been denied in the face of Michael’s initial fury, utilizing the blessings that had marked her as beloved. To her, it was too long, but it was within a matter of a couple of years before she regained the adoration that she was due -- and soon followed the elevation of her status. Among the Virtues she found some semblance of recognition, but still, there stirs within her a rotting need for a crown to rest upon her brow, for her visage to be venerated. She finds her eyes drifting towards the throne that Michael occupies, lets her fingers rest upon its arm when it is vacated. It is so easy to imagine her there, beside them -- or sitting upon it, even. But she has been patient...enough. It won’t be long before they fall upon their knees before her once again, singing praises in her names and rendering her beguiling image in marble and gold. Her heaven had been razed -- so she, in turn, will raze the earth if that is what it takes for her to regain all-consuming adoration she had grown so intoxicated on once more.

THE CONNECTIONS.

ZADKIEL: Loose end. Perhaps a little foolishly, she had hoped that all the Cherubim would be felled -- that Michael would propose a culling. It was why she had listed the names of those she had once stood next to, bearing the arms of God. The thought of any consequences had been such a faraway notion that Cassiel had, in truth, thought little of what might happen were there any Cherubim that might escape the judgement of the angels. Zadkiel, above all, had been one that she had hoped would meet his end -- not because she didn’t care for him, on the contrary she adored the angel, but primarily because she had wanted to escape the fickle notions of guilt and remorse. He had been the one to serve her in heaven, had gladly taken her under his wing and now she wonders if he is the final nail that needed to be placed in order to crucify her...then again, she has escaped so much unscathed -- she has every confidence that she will be able to escape this.

AZAZEL: Adversary. They are two creatures so alike -- the ability to beguile is something every being covets and very few are able to obtain; to ensnare, enchant, and enthrall -- an ability to treasure. And yet where the two diverge is even more telling; Azazel chose to lose herself within the putrid kingdom of hell while Cassiel remained within the pristine gates of heaven, untouched and venerable, still. How she had clapped her hands in utter delight when she had witnessed the purging of her adversary. Yet Azazel has ascended within the hierarchy of hell while Cassiel has seen her status dissipate at her fingertips, forcing her to sink her nails into what little power she wielded and grasp for every vestige of social ascent that there was to offer. She has learned to claw her way to glory, while Azazel has done little more than think of it before an abundance of adoration is thrown at her undeserving feet. It is high time then that Cassiel teaches the doted-upon demoness what it is to live without.

CADE BEKKER: Gratification. Whenever she finds herself doubting her own prowess, Cassiel seeks Cade out. He is always so fickle and begrudging, but it takes nothing more than a doleful bat of her lashes before he seems mollified and eating out of her palm once more. There is always so much hemming and hawing that transpires on his end -- as though he thinks himself immune to her nature. In truth, there is something uniquely gratifying about the way that he seems to pull away, but still she has no issue in luring him back to her, with a very pretty grin as a means of thanks. She doesn’t think much of the fact that he has become something of a comfort to her, like how mortals hold onto a trinket when all the world seems in disarray. No, it is better not to question it and keep the mortal close, if only to serve as a means of exercising the potency of her abilities and the development of her ambition.

VIKTORIA: Crown. There are few who are able to appreciate Cassiel’s ambition, and even fewer who seek to foster it. It was no small thing when Cassiel found herself within Viktoria’s line of sight -- the renowned Horsemen’s gaze fixated on the lithe angel. To be acknowledged by them was the foundation upon which Cassiel established the renewal of her determination. It was because of Viktoria’s tutelage that she found herself vying for a position within the Virtues, nails sharp and teeth bared for any of those who dared to stand in her way. It was because of Viktoria that Cassiel found a usefulness for her hunger, no longing letting it be a creature that puppeteered every one of her wants and needs, choosing instead to wield it as one might wield a blade. It won’t be long, she thinks, before Viktoria becomes her ally and helps her sit by the throne.

Cassiel is portrayed by Kelsey Merritt and was written by ROSEY. She is currently TAKEN by TARYN.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

I don't want Percy to be MC's friend. He's a complete jerk who only cares about himself more than his friends, parents and siblings but at least, he learned his mistake in the last Harry Potter movie. Watch the video called "The Entire Life of Percy Weasley (Harry Potter Explained)"

I can’t say that I agree, anon, though I can understand finding Percy obnoxious, especially in this game. His personality can definitely rub people the wrong way. However, having just watched the video, I have to say that I think it’s very one-sided. I’ll try and go through everything that it talks about - under the cut because I have no filter.

Fred and George

To say that he didn’t like his brothers Fred and George, and that he wanted to control them, isn’t really accurate and it doesn’t acknowledge that whenever Fred and George were mentioned in conjunction with Percy, they were usually bullying him. Vandalizing his Head Boy badge, even though he was proud of having gotten the position and it meant a lot to him. Or the time that they literally sent him dragon dung. Or the time that they tried to leave him for dead in a Pyramid tomb. And it was played for laughs. I’m not condemning Fred and George because they were the human embodiment of the chaos alignment, so it makes sense that they would butt heads with Percy. Brothers pick on each other, I know it happens. But it’s not fair to act like Percy feeling distant from his other siblings was his own fault. Fred and George were really popular with the Weasleys and other kids. Percy, by comparison, was just tolerated. Even though he was the model student and the one who followed rules, and the twins were constantly causing trouble. Why should Percy be ashamed of doing what he’s supposed to do? Why shouldn’t he want attention and validation from his family? Maybe the reason he talked constantly about his accomplishments was because he wanted to be appreciated.

The other Weasleys

Most of the moments where he doesn’t get along with his family in the early books are not moments that Percy himself initiates. It’s primarily Ron, Ginny, or the Twins picking on him. He didn’t even feel like he could tell his family he was dating someone because he guessed (correctly) that they would bully him for it. Speaking of that, Ginny promised she would keep Percy’s secret, and then turned around and told basically everyone. 

Despite all this, Percy very clearly cared about his family, well before Deathly Hallows. Like the time he boasted about Ron helping to win the House Cup. The time he tried to comfort Ginny, believing she was upset about Ron. The time he scolded Ron over this and warned him to stop going near the site of the Basilisk attacks because of how it would look. Or the time he watched out for Harry because Mrs. Weasley asked him to, “like an extremely pompous guard dog” as the video says. (Like I said, very one-sided.) Or the time that he refused to let go of Ron after Ron was used as a hostage in the Second Task. The video also attributes the end of Percy’s relationship with Penelope to him working too much in GOF...but there’s literally nothing in the books that ever suggests that.

The Triwizard Tournament

Like Bill, Percy is show constantly shown to be a good leader. He was named Prefect and Head Boy and he utterly embraced the positions. But the video mostly focuses on how proud he was of having gotten these positions and now enough on how he got them...because he earned them. In the same breath as talking about how he would apparate in the house every morning just to prove he could the video also talks about how Crouch barely gave Percy the time of day. Couldn’t be bothered to remember his name and just gave him pointless tasks. Despite how excited Percy was and how eagerly he would talk about all this to the rest of his family, who found it boring and avoided the topic. Percy is all alone in GOF. Even more so than he has been before. It’s really no wonder that he poured himself into his work and looked to the Ministry for support and validation, because he wasn’t getting any at home. He was just being belittled and humiliated at every turn. Of course, once Crouch was imperius’d, Percy thought he was finally getting recognition, but he was just being used. He was being set up as the fall guy. Even the villains are indirectly dismissive of this character! 

Because Crouch was out of commission, Percy was having to deal with all his work. So to say that he valued laws and rules over his own family is not only cruel, it’s completely wrong. Percy is resentful of them because to him, it feels like their actions are creating more stress for him at work and ruining that environment for him too. Ruining his dreams. The Ministry (and the video) blames Percy for not figuring out that something was off about Crouch, but it was still the same hand-writing, so why would Percy question it? 

The Estrangement

His supposed reprieve came when Fudge hired him as a Personal Assistant. Percy was excited and came home, hoping his Dad would be proud of him. But like always, Percy was disappointed. Arthur was right in his suspicions about why Fudge hired Percy, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Percy heard “You aren’t good enough to have gotten this job.” He heard Arthur refuse to believe that he might have actually earned this. That he was succeeding. “No Percy, this job isn’t real. The one person who’s actually valued you in recent memory is just manipulating you and it’s totally our fault for siding with Dumbledore, but I won’t admit to that.” That’s how it felt. And yeah, it was one time too many. The Weasleys have never conveyed to Percy that they appreciate him or want him around, so why should he want to stick around? Why didn’t anyone step in sooner, or come to his defense when he was taking the fall for Crouch? Why is it only when their agenda is threatened that they say something? And Percy is the selfish one? Why should he believe Voldemort has returned? I agree that what he said to Arthur about Arthur’s reputation and their family was horrible...but I think Percy-Antis view this as totally without cause. And the cause is clear. 

I take issue with how the video describes Percy slamming the door in Molly’s face “without even giving her a chance.” Because that scene was never depicted. We don’t know what happened or what was said. We don’t know how long the conversation may have lasted. But y’know, if I was Percy, I don’t think I’d even answer the door. He’s made his choice - cut ties with his family. To Molly’s credit, she was one of the only Weasleys who praised his accomplishments...but neither she nor Arthur ever did anything about the constant, constant bullying. That might be pretty hard to forgive, and Percy never receives any apology for it. He’s the only one who apologies in the end.

The letter that Percy sends Ron seems pretty terrible until you look at it from from the perspective that he’s genuinely trying to protect his little brother. Which he has always done in his own way. It’s an olive branch. Look, the word on the street is that Harry Potter is constantly lying and potentially dangerous. Percy might very well have made the judgment call that his family was blinded by their loyalty to him. It’s not like Percy and Harry were ever close. Think about it. After befriending Harry, Ron consistently got involved in dangerous adventures like confronting acromantulas, dementors, devil’s snare, the list goes on. It’s not unreasonable at all that Percy might want Harry to stay away from Ron. I’ll agree that giving Umbridge an endorsement is jaw-dropping...but we don’t see them interact. Umbridge might have put on a completely different face around Percy. Or he might have simply trusted Fudge and repeated his words. We just don’t know.

Fudge’s Departure

Dumbledore said that it’s harder to forgive someone for being right, then it is for being wrong. I’m not going to go off on a Dumbledore-bashing tirade right now, because that’s hardly the point -  but while that is very wise advice in general...it completely misses the real point of why Percy left. It doesn’t matter if Dumbledore was right and Fudge was wrong. (Though Percy no doubt felt horrible and humiliated yet again when he realized that.) What matters is that Percy’s family pushed him away and made him feel so isolated that Fudge valuing him was the only good thing going on in his life. Percy leaving doesn’t make him an asshole. But it does say a lot, not about him, that he decided Fudge’s approval and his job at the Ministry were worth moving out and cutting off all contact with his family. Dumbledore's assessment of Percy’s feelings once again ignores any responsibility that his family has in why he left in the first place.I genuinely do love the Weasleys to no end (just look at my URL) but their relationship to Percy was toxic.

 Scrimgeour, like Fudge, used Percy to get to the Weasleys, and forced him to pretend that he wanted to see them when he didn’t. Try to imagine being in that position, especially when Molly was the only one who even acted happy to see him. Fred, George and Ginny threw food at him. Literally why would Percy ever want to see them again if this was the welcome that he got? It was already painful for him and they did not make it any easier. Sure, I know that it was probably painful for them too, but they were once again not even considering Percy’s feelings, just their own. 

The Battle of Hogwarts 

I’ve already talked about how Percy apologies for everything, and the other Weasleys apologize for nothing. Not gonna lie, this is realistic to an uncomfortable level. Family members who have been mistreated wind up being the ones to apologize because they miss their family, even though they often aren’t completely to blame. But this is probably never going to be addressed because immediately after the reconciliation, Fred died. Just imagine how much undeserved guilt Percy felt about that. And then look to the epilogue where there’s one final humorous moment about Harry seeing Percy at King’s Cross and making a mental note to avoid him. Literally nothing has changed. Percy is still the joke of the family. He’s just accepted it because without them, he’s alone. He’s learned to see himself as the problem, and not them. 

...I am such a nerd. But I hope you can see where I’m coming from as well. Again, I love The Weasleys. I adore Fred and George. But Percy is not, and was never a bad guy. In some ways, he’s my favorite Weasley. I do love his character arc. But...I just...I wish there had been some apology from the twins as well. 

[mimiplaysgames]

A Powerful Enough Dream (Ch. 7)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua (eventually) Rating: T Word Count: 5,632

Summary: Terra hid Aqua’s Keyblade somewhere. She starts looking for it in Radiant Garden, which holds more secrets than she realizes.

Read on AO3

A/N: I said last chapter that I had two more and here is one of them! Thank you so much for the responses from the last chapter. I’m really pushing through these fast, so I apologize that their quality is not up to my to my standard, but I hope they’re fun nonetheless! I’ve really missed playing with different characters, I don’t get the opportunity in my other fics.

~*~*~*~*~

Stones, pt. 1

Radiant Garden relies on surgical intervention to remain standing: pipes on pipes on pipes, holding the foundations together and distributing water, electricity, and steam to individual homes, both the rebuilt and the not-quite-there-yet. 

If Aqua paints a vivid memory of what it used to look like in her mind, she can vaguely see the similarities. She spared Terra here, of all places, and look what happened to it: another on her list of casualties. 

Does it make me terrible that I don’t regret letting him live?

Is it even possible to regret only the consequences and not the cause? 

It’s not the time to wallow, she tells herself. Radiant Garden is massive and Terra’s crumbs could be anywhere. She instructs Riku to land his Gummiship on the same terrace she last saw her Keyblade, right in sight of Ansem the Wise’s castle, which is worse for wear and will probably never earn back that former glory. 

She finds Ansem awaiting her arrival on the ground. Kairi is excited, wanting to see how things in the city have improved, grabbing Riku by the elbow and demanding him to take her to the Marketplace while pulling on Sora’s shirt and asking him to let her visit Merlin. Donald grumbles about wasted time, and Goofy rides along with it. Aqua is more than happy to stay with Ansem for now. 

“I’ve locked myself in my home for days,” he grins when she meets him. “There’s a miracle in seeing a familiar face.”

Two large bodyguards, dressed in decorative suits, flank Ansem. By his side is a short, lanky young man in a white coat. Definitely not a soldier: no one who allows that much hair to cover his face would be serious about going to combat. He smiles (not too much, but not too timid), and introduces himself as Ienzo. 

“We should continue the pleasantries inside if we want to avoid any trouble,” Ienzo says, adjusting his collar three times but never getting it straight.

“Yet trouble comes without our consent,” Ansem says, his gaze glowering beyond the Gummiship when a group of people, dressed in handmade uniforms, approach. He gives Aqua a wink. “They have knocked on my door every day since my return. Might as well use the opportunity at hand.”

Leading the group of oncomers are two people with the most severe faces Aqua has ever seen on anyone. They stride with such determined cohesion that she realizes they’ve been idling around, waiting for a chance to corner Ansem.

One of them is a tall man with brown hair and a single scar scraped over his nose. His blue eyes swallow her into a deep, cold well. He observes everything with a distance, his skin so unmoved that Aqua wonders if he’s ever had the pleasure of laughing. He dresses like he’s casual: leather jacket with a fur trim and too many belts to sit comfortably, but he doesn’t wear the impression that he’s good with people. 

The other is a woman with a permanent glare on her face. It’s a hard expression against the soft curls of her rose-colored hair. But she’s nothing elegant - if anything, this woman is power in short stature, a red cape hanging off one shoulder and a sheathed weapon prepared on the other. Aqua’s impressed by her presence - she wishes she could carry herself the same one day, and hopes she only caught her in a bad mood.

“Leon, Lightning,” Ansem greets, “I see you waste no time.”

Aqua hitches her breath. Noctis and Garnet are so gentle by comparison, it’s difficult to see how they can sing praise for these two.

“I’m usually not the betting kind, Ansem,” Leon says, hands at his hips. Aqua never expected such a comforting voice to come out of his mouth. “But you’ve made me a different man. I’ve wagered you dug your tomb in there.”

Lightning makes nothing subtle when she rolls her eyes.

“I may already have,” Ansem says, his fists tense under his sleeves, but he keeps pleasant. His bodyguards are on alert, and Ienzo throws glances, not looking at anyone in the eye. “Never leaving my chair, however, wreaks havoc on my old joints.”

Lightning crosses her arms and tosses a disgusted look. “We gave you a set of conditions on your stay,” she snaps.

Leon holds a hand up. “Lightning-”

“No one wants you here.” She’s so much shorter than Ansem’s bodyguards, who are ready to pounce, but there’s no way she’d lose to them. “So what’s it going to be?” 

Aqua expects Ansem to retort to such an unnecessary comment, but he doesn’t. The way his eyes cast downward acknowledges some uninvited truth. Instead of running to his defense, Aqua hesitates: his silent admission makes her wonder if there’s justification to all this. 

“You’ve given me little of a choice.”

“The hard or the easy way. It’s more than you deserve when his Restoration Committee has done everything you should have claimed responsibility for.” Lightning points to Leon, who hides half his face behind his hand before realizing there’s no point to his modesty. 

“I suppose I cannot offer a token of peace,” Ansem says, not really a question. “An olive branch. A new Keyblade wielder for the cause.”

Aqua inhales sharply. Under no circumstances is it appropriate for her to meddle into world affairs by inserting herself directly into their politics, especially as a bargaining chip. 

Ansem introduces her, “Keyblade Master Aqua. Competent, strong, a formidable survivor and a dear friend.”

She wants to bite back. She bites her tongue. 

Lightning’s eyes are as light as a distant sky that they’re almost silver, and they glint at the recognition of her name. Solemnly (shockingly), she says, “You’re Terra’s wielder.” 

But Leon scrutinizes. “Is he not around?”

“Not right now...” It’s far enough from the truth that it’s not a complete lie. Aqua’s always been terrible about that.

A muscle twitches in Lightning’s jaw. “I’m so sorry.” 

Leon recognizes what she’s trying to say, losing the stiff nerve he had moments earlier as his eyes find a moment of silence in the horizon.  

You’re Terra’s wielder. They expected him and Aqua would be inseparable. 

Leon joins his partner by crossing his own arms, all the threads that grieved tying up again. “Aqua, welcome to Radiant Garden. We still have some growing pains to deal with.” He shoots an icy look towards Ansem that is so solid, it’s almost metal. “The conditions stay the same. You have until tomorrow to decide.”

As they turn away, their proclamations made, Lightning gives Aqua one more compassionate glance - at least as much as this woman is capable of making. 

“That wasn’t appropriate,” Aqua murmurs to Ansem. It’s a sickly feeling to be used that way, a sour taste in her mouth. She wants to forget it ever happened.

Ansem studies the cobblestone beneath them. “There’s much in my life I will have to atone for, things I should have done instead of underestimating their importance. Things I should not have committed when I was blinded by them. I will start with your forgiveness on this matter.”

“Is it true that no one wants you here?”

“Aqua,” he breathes, “would you believe me if I told you that I was single handedly responsible for the destruction of two children’s lives?”

“...Children?”

“Two unique children.” He says it so assuredly that it sounds absurd. “Two unnatural children, unlike you and me, and I’ve reminded them as such. Would you say they have a right to exist?”

“Of course they do.”

“I wasn’t as kind.”

Aqua swallows bile. 

Ienzo steps forward, his eagerness ready to scream. “We’re doing all we can to repent for this, and are already on our way with our plans.” Softly, he says, “I’m glad Sora is here. We can officially start our experiments today.”

“Then what shall I do for you, Aqua?” Ansem asks. I will start with your forgiveness on this matter.

“I need to find my Keyblade.”

He chuckles. “Does it resemble you?”

Aqua blushes. A Keyblade is meant to reflect the person, but it’s such a vain thought. “You could say that.”

“Then my castle is the best place to start.”

At the entrance awaiting them is none other than Lea, leaning on the wall like he owns the place. From where he stands, high atop a staircase that makes up for a hill, he had a good look over the action that transpired below.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks. Does he even have a right to know? Aqua has to wonder.

Ansem ignores him. Ienzo looks down on him as though he’s the one who’s taller. Lea brushes them aside with gusto.

“They’ve never been fun to talk to, anyway,” he tells Aqua when the bodyguards only give him so much of a passing glance.

She smirks. “Do you even belong here?”

“Please, I have better taste than this bunch. Zexion knows why I’m here and he hates me for it.”

“Who?”

“Oh right, he calls himself I-en-zo now.” He smacks his lips, the flavor unpleasant. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

“Why would he hate you?”

“Over a dumb little thing.” He swats with his hands before hiding them in his pockets. “Dying’s not a relevant topic for Nobodies.”

“Did you kill someone he cared about?”

“Do I look like a savage to you?” Lea shrugs. “I actually targeted him - but look. He’s fine.”

Lea leads her inside. This place desperately needs a maid. Pipes line the walls, pummeling through holes and leaving dust and debris in crumbles on the floor. The castle itself is loud with overlapping voices in spitting debates about what procedures to follow next, with exhaust and machine whirring, with computer speakers flatly informing their users. Everything trails down the hallways, accepting the reality that it will be eavesdropped. It’s ugly compared to the Land of Departure, but Aqua figures that’s an unfair judgment.

She wants to be taken to where Terra’s body had slept for years during his apprenticeship. She doesn’t ask. 

“What was Ansem’s choice?” Lea asks. “Leon and Lightning have been pestering him for an answer.”

“He still hasn’t given them one.”

Lea scoffs. “He’s delaying the inevitable.”

“What were the conditions?”

“He either gives them free reign to enter the castle and use its services as they need it, or they kick him out.”

Aqua stops, but Lea keeps his stride. “They would take his home either way.”

And he gestures for her to follow. “Do you blame them?”

“It’s not right.”

Now he stops. “This world didn’t exactly fall into the Realm of Darkness, but it made little difference. Heartless everywhere. Halls without voices. Sora’s a bright and lucky guy, a shining star, and he gave it back to the people. They madeshift an army out of no one, and brought their home back to life. Ansem did nothing.”

“You think it’s a just punishment.” Aqua shifts her weight. “I know about the experimentation that happened here. But that was all Xehanort.”

“Sure, but that makes Ansem a weak leader.” Lea steps close enough for her to get a good look into his eyes: a fiery emerald that is too polished, intense and nothing like she’s seen in other people. His pupils flicker something black, engorged with something vengeful. “For what he’s done to some vulnerable people, he doesn’t deserve the sympathy.”

Some. So it’s personal. 

“I grew up here,” Lea continues. “There’s been witness accounts of moans and cries coming from the dungeon here. We all heard it. Yeah, that was Xehanort’s doing, but Ansem’s not deaf.”

He turns over his shoulder, leaving her stranded in a long, humid hallway where the steam leaks out. The castle struggles to breathe as though the pipes serve as its ventilators. 

The Aqua before the Realm of Darkness would have turned her nose up to such scum. 

The Aqua now believes she still would but… they both survived the Realm of Darkness together. They talked about memories of the sunset, of their favorite desserts that they’d enjoy if they ever went free…

And Ansem constantly repeated how much he deserved to watch the moon freeze in orbit for the rest of his life. It sounded so overdramatic at the time.

I will start with your forgiveness on this matter.

That’s a fate he’ll have to walk on his own. Right now, he’s somewhere in a room hashing away for whatever experiment they’re preparing for. Aqua doesn’t want to know a single detail. 

She follows the last of Lea’s steps, taking the only hallway down until it lets her into an office, where it greets her with the face of a ghost.

A painted portrait hangs high on the wall opposite the entrance. Slashed just above the nose, the bottom limps and curls over. Terra looks good with brown eyes, but she doesn’t have to see the entire thing to know that his expression is ugly. 

Lea rummages through books (if they’re in good enough condition). The office in general has seen better days, what with the singed furniture and ashy pools of dust littering the shelves. The walls have the scientific scribbles from someone hypnotized and the battle scars from someone flailing weapons and fire about. 

Hypnotized, Aqua stands before the painting, gently rolling up the crumpled canvas to bring the face whole. White hair and with a faraway look in his eyes, Terra is a warm embrace and a creepy stranger all at once. She traces her fingertips at his taut jawline, the flat bumps of painstrokes unyielding and cold. This Terra will not and would never smile at her. 

The pages of Lea’s books continue to sputter, but he’s only reading her. Aqua lets go and looks away. 

Brisk footsteps stutter into the room. Ienzo rolls his eyes but doesn’t have to warrant a hello for Lea to ask: “Is this all of it?”

“The rest is in your imagination.” Now, Ienzo is confident, straightening his wrist cuffs with impeccable accuracy.

Lea’s usual bemused expression freezes. “I don’t like working too hard, Zex. You know that.”

The air between these two is electric. It needs to be redirected before it cracks a skull open. 

“What are you looking for?” Aqua asks. 

“All of Xehanort’s notes and diaries regarding his experiments,” Lea says like he’s looking for candy. Not batting an eyelash. Not hesitating, nor embarrassed. He’s turned into a different person in the blink of a moment.

“W- Why?”

“Old Ansem’s going to destroy them all. Isn’t he, Zex?”

Ienzo teeths. “Of course doing the right thing would be beneath you, Axel.”

“We shouldn’t be keeping any of it,” Aqua says. “Darkness like that in the wrong hands-”

“You’d be dooming us all,” Lea says, one hand on a hip. “We could find new ways to protect ourselves from the darkness if we knew more about it. We could make stronger barriers, or help those step away from the wrong path. How are we supposed to prevent people from repeating Xehanort’s mistakes if we forget they ever happened?”

“Those experiments were disgusting,” Ienzo says in broken murmurs.

“You’re going to tell me,” Lea says, only to Aqua, “that you’d parade about Keyblade wielders fighting the darkness without truly understanding it? Is that what a good teacher does?”

No… 

“We have teachings we rely on,” is the best she could say. 

“If it’s the same garbage Yen Sid rambles about.” Lea snatches a book from up high on the shelf, one of the few that was spared from whatever chaos ensued here, dust fibers hanging on for dear life on the edge of pages. Lea reads the cover. “Affairs of the Heart by the Master of Masters. Funny stuff.”

As much as she hates that book, he can’t possibly consider that ancient Keyblade texts are inferior to Xehanort’s self-obsessed, cock-bulleted disorders. 

“How can you say that about something so important?” 

“Thou shalt strut your holiness and scream at spiders because they look scary. Remember children, darkness is bad for you,” Lea mimics. “I’d be surprised if the Master ever spoke like this in real life.”

“He was a pioneer.”

“He was a quack.” Lea tosses the book on its back. “None of it is relevant anymore. I want to help Sora. I can’t do that on outdated superstitions you’re desperate to call science.”

“We are helping Sora,” Ienzo says. “The way we’re doing it will have nothing to do with darkness.” 

“It better not.” Lea takes a breath to calm down. “But don’t act righteous with me when we both know your current methods are based on what Xehanort started.”

Aqua hasn’t known Lea for long, and yet seeing him unravel like this raises the hair on her skin. He’s otherwise so composed every second. She can’t imagine Ienzo hurting someone Lea cares about, and maybe that’s nowhere close to the truth. 

“What kind of experiments are we talking about, here?” she asks Ienzo. 

“The kind that rights our wrongs,” he says with worship in his voice. “The kind that gives our friends,” he glances at Lea, “the life they deserve. A chance to bring them back and make amends.”

“Xehanort’s not capable of giving anyone the tools to do good,” Aqua quips. They stare at her, and a destructive wave of shame washes over Ienzo’s face. Yet, nothing he’s promising sounds so bad. Why is it so difficult to accept?

“Burning Xehanort’s books will make sure we will never repeat his particular methods.”

“It won’t,” Lea stresses. “It would only lead you blind. You need them as a reference.”.

“Please do not worry, Master Aqua,” Ienzo says as though Lea isn’t in the room with them. “We would never endanger anyone.” 

Lea snorts. “With Vexen heading the work?”

“Even is smarter than I am,” says Ienzo. 

“He has little boundaries.”

“I will no longer bore the Keyblade Master with such trivial disagreements that have nothing to do with her matters.” Ienzo irons the creases on his sleeve with his hand. “Master Ansem has mentioned you were in need of help. You were looking for your Keyblade?” he asks Aqua.

Suddenly, she wants to leave this place behind. 

“Is it blue and skinny?” Lea asks, flipping through pages. “It was way too small for Terra.”

“I seem to recall something like that in Xehanort’s possession,” Ienzo says, his chin dug into his fingers. “Or rather, Terra’s.”

“Terra found it downstairs.” Lea’s cynical gaze on Ienzo suggests some hidden language only they understand. “In the Superior’s chamber of all places.” 

“How-”

“He had help.”

“We’ve set up security measures to prevent anyone from going back.”

Lea scoffs. “You didn’t notice it the first time.”

Aqua holds a hand to her chest. “Would he have returned it there?”

“The dungeons were where Xehanort conducted his work,” Ienzo says. 

“And Terra doesn’t strike me as the masochist type to put himself through that hell twice,” Lea goats until his confidence wavers. “But if I think about it… he loves punishing himself.”

That depends on the what and the why. 

“So it’s a possibility,” she says. 

“If he went down there again, I would have noticed it,” Ienzo says.

“Whatever you say,” Lea says. “Repeat it enough times, and I’ll believe it, too.”

The wall where the painting proudly stands serves as the way through - a secret passageway to an armory of giant vials. Ienzo says they all used to carry hearts. When Aqua asks what happened to them, Ienzo replies with the hope that they found their way back to where they belong. Wherever that is. 

At the computer terminal, Ienzo says he will not escort them. 

Lea doesn’t think it’s a problem.

Aqua doesn’t know what difference it would make.

The way down is a stupidly long spiral staircase hidden underneath a trap door. The trap door itself is a terrible defense mechanism, but anyone with right minds would simply give up halfway down. Despite being so fit, Aqua is gasping for breath by the time she reaches the bottom, and Lea doesn’t fare much better. 

“That bastard knew what we were getting ourselves into and never said anything,” Lea pants when they approach the door that opened up to a single, bleached hallway.

The air changes immediately when they enter, and the breath Aqua desperately needs turns sour. Weakness sinks heavy and creeps up her legs, shaking them into noodles. An airiness sits at the top of her crown, but she wills herself to stay standing. 

This place sweats darkness. The walls cry, the floor drools, and the locked doors they pass writhe for a breath of fresh air. There’s been a lot of agony and screaming in these rooms. Aqua can’t hear them, but nothing in the Realm of Darkness - so primal, so omniscient, so ancient - compares to the sins that happened here. The Master always said that darkness is evil. Here is the proof, and here is her answer. 

“Terra would never come back here,” she says, her stomach hurling sideways. 

Lea acts like he’s taking a normal stroll. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“It’s torture. You don’t feel that?”

“Eh, I’m not convinced of poltergeists if that’s what you’re asking.” He snorts. “Are you old-fashioned Keyblade wielders always this sensitive?”

“I’m going to be sick.”

“As long as it’s not on my shoes, do it wherever you like.” He points down the hallway. “Come on, it’s just at the end.”

An open chamber awaits them. The room in here isn’t sickly - if anything, it’s dead. It isn’t witness to anything sinful; it’s just nothing. 

But the layout of this place...

Aqua forgets she’s nauseous. “Who built this room?” she commands, storming inside. 

It’s near identical to the throne room she left Ven in. Corrupted and sterilized, but still home. Whoever did it had to have known. The chair is a mirror image, as though Ven could easily nap here. 

“Xemnas,” Lea says casually, arms crossed and leaning on the door frame. “Guess it’s his thinking room or… whatever he used it for. Censored reasons? I don’t wanna know.”

“That can’t be. That-” She grits her teeth. That means Xemnas was looking for Ven when he found me. That was all I was worth. 

She wants to slap herself. The moment she learned he was Xehanort’s Nobody should have been the moment she stopped caring about his companionship. She doesn’t care. She’s just an idiot who should have known better of a voice living in the darkness. 

At least Ven is safe.

Lea chortles. “I swear I can see the steam coming out of your ears.”

Aqua realizes she’s balled her hands into fists. “When I see Xehanort, I’ll make him regret he’s ever met Ven. I’ll make him mortified of the memory.”

“You mean Xemnas.”

“Why does that matter? I’m killing him. Anyone with Xehanort’s face.”

Lea gapes. “But not anyone with Terra’s face?”

She glares at him, and he holds his arms up to defend himself. “Forget I asked.”

“There’s nothing here,” she spits. “We’re wasting our time.”

Her fury gives her immunity from the hallway’s ailments, which is now still and quiet, except for the stomping of her feet all the way out. She’s blind, running through thoughts in her mind that don’t finish, clammy from the heat. She only sees where she’s going when she halts at the bottom of the stairwell, cursing her terrible luck that she’ll have to climb the entire way back up for nothing.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” she hears Lea say from behind her, his arms crossed.

“Excuse me?”

“For befriending Xemnas.”

Aqua draws a long, agonizing inhale. “Don’t mention his name again.”

Lea gawks, a mocking smirk spread on his lips. “Or what? You’ll spit bubbles at me?”

“I can make them hurt.”

Hands on hips, Lea leans forward and wags his face. “Xemnas, Xemnas, Xemnas.”

She snaps out of it, hiding her face behind her hand. Deadly bubbles sounded stupid as soon as the words left her mouth. Foolish.

Lea bursts out in laughter. “Terra must find your temper really amusing.”

Temperamental is not a description she’s proud to wear. Surviving the Realm of Darkness should have made her stronger than ever, not explode at every whim or thought. 

“I wouldn’t have befriended Xemnas,” she murmurs, “in my right frame of mind. If he succeeded, then Ven...” She exhales, but it doesn’t cool her down.

Lea considers her, all his mischief flying away from his eyes. “Xemnas was really good with very desperate people.”

She stays quiet.

“You and Terra share that in common.”

“Hmm?”

“Self-flagellation.”

“I’m not…” Aqua brings her hand to her chest. Her heart thumps loudly, more sluggish than it should. She always relied on Terra to step around the corner and banish her awful mood. It’s hard to imagine him being this pathetic. 

“He’s more whiny about it.” Lea breaks out a grin.

Then again, did Terra depend on me to do the same for him? If I’m not around, who does he turn to? Is that the reason why he went to Xehanort?

How much of his absence played a role in welcoming Xemnas into my life?

“Is it always that simple?” she asks. “Being deceived?”

Lea softens. “I find it hard to believe you’re easily tricked. If I say Knock, knock, you’d say, There’s no door.” 

Aqua has to admit she cracked a smile. 

“But it isn’t you, it’s Xemnas,” he continues. “Come to anyone who has nothing, who is Nothing, with promises of a better life and a reason to live - of course you’d eat the sweets out of his hands. He had twelve followers in the original Organization, after all.”

“I wish Terra believed in himself.”

Lea frowns: a boggy sight, something that slowly rolled over his face where he can’t find the smile again. “I had a best friend growing up. He joined the Organization with me. Smarter than me, one rank higher. Xemnas learned to confide in him really closely.” 

She sighs. “That can’t have been comfortable for you.”

“Ha.” Lea flexes his shoulders. “Whatever purpose he found in that role completely changed him… but I guess the possibility was always there. He schemed long cons like they were children’s puzzle pieces - give him one clue and he’ll figure out who done it. He stepped ahead of every drawback that I swore he had psychic vision once. If you needed to get out of a tight situation, he was your man. There’s no one better.

“But he needed to be in absolute control, and eventually his genius ideas lost their brilliance and his visions lost their point. The moment he forgot who I was to him, he forgot us. That grass-eating bastard.”

“You’re hoping he’ll bounce back.”

“I have to hope, the same way you do.” He shrugs. “If Terra can make it, then Isa can make it. I’ll buy out every green vegetable that exists in this multiverse if it means I can hear him terrorize me with the way he chews his celery one more time.”

“Chews his celery?”

“Like a damn rabbit.”

She bubbles first, a warm turn in her chest before it spills out of her mouth. Then she can’t stop herself. It takes several seconds for her to recognize that laughing is familiar. Lea doesn’t join her, running a hand through his hair.

“I needed that,” she gasps. “Thank you, Lea.” 

“You’ll be back at throwing empty threats when you remember what we got to do.” He nudges his head upward, toward the spiral staircase that’s too tall for them to see the top. “You really should work on those if you want to seem intimidating.”

“I shouldn’t make threats at all.” She takes the first step up.

“Sure. You’re too innocent for that.”

“It’s not dignified.”

“Well excuse me, Master Distinguished.” He huffs and puffs. They’ve barely climbed up ten steps. “Do you have any idea where Terra might have hidden your Keyblade if not here?”

“Home.” That’s the quick answer, but it would have been true if he had the chance. “Somewhere he felt secure.”

“He might as well have shoved it in his pants,” Lea groans. “The dungeon was the most secure place in the castle.”

~*~*~*~*~

Outside the city limits is nothing but badlands where the forests had been, darkening as the sun dips closer to the horizon. But as Aqua walks down the steps that lead her back to the town square, the badlands fade from her view, engulfed by rooftops with missing tiles and hurdles of white and yellow flowers here and there, doing a poor job at framing the steaming pipes. 

Lea left her to commit to his work: How will I get the rest? Easy. I’ll tell Ienzo that if he doesn’t cough up all the reports, I’ll rip his heart out myself and find the first Heartless to feed it to. He’ll really believe I’ll do it… Don’t look at me like that, you know he deserves it.

A long way down to a dead end. Terra would have not wanted it to be this hard. With him, it never was, at least not until Aqua passed the Mark of Mastery with perfect scores. 

Every step she’s been on since coming back was a stone, lodged on the surface of an ocean that stretched forever. Terra’s stepping stones, tracing his history from one clue to the next, and eventually she assumed she’d reach solid ground. 

Now she’s on her last stone, with nowhere to go but to drown, as if he vanished before he was able to finish his path.

Aqua bumps shoulders with another woman, thinking of nothing but deep, black water. 

“I’m sorry,” Aqua breathes. The woman has flowers tucked into a weave basket, some of them knocked over to the ground. “I’ll pick them up for you.”

“You’re new,” she says as Aqua scrambles. She’s feminine, eyes as dense as grass, her long brown hair beautifully arranged in a braid with a pink bow. “The new Keyblade wielder?”

Word travels too fast for Aqua’s liking. “Yes.” She hands the bouquet of flowers over, trying not to crush the petals together. “I’m Aqua.”

The woman gasps loudly enough for passersby to lurch over their shoulders. She leans in close enough for Aqua to only see green irises around dark pupils. “You look like an Aqua.”

Is ‘Thank you’ a proper response to that?

“I’m Aerith.” She looks over Aqua’s shoulders. “Is Terra with you?”

“He’ll come by later.” Aqua is relieved at how assured she sounds.

“Good. I won’t forgive him if he forgets me.” Aerith’s smile widens as she studies Aqua’s hair and her outfit. “You’re lovelier than I imagined. Have you met Lightning and Squall?”

“Squall?”

“Oops.” Aerith shakes her head at herself. “I meant Leon. Sorry, it’s so hard to call him that.” She clears her throat. “Leon won’t take back his birth name until Radiant Garden is sparkling again. But nothing’s ever good enough.” She pouts, jutting her bottom lip out. “Do you think it’s ugly?”

Behind Aerith is a wagon with more flowers. She’s the one planting them throughout the city in a feeble attempt to hide the rusty pipes. 

“It’s charming.” 

Aerith claps her hands. “You should tell him that. He’s such an oaf.”

Aqua thinks of Leon’s iron wall for eyes. “He’s certainly professional.”

“Oh,” Aerith murmurs, “did he scare you?” She snaps her fingers. “I bet Lightning did worse. They’re both idiots. Trust me, they’re mostly harmless.”

“Really?”

“Mostly. They’re thick.” Aerith tends to her basket, a memory brightening up her face. “Squall- I mean, Leon was my neighbor. We grew up together. He used to lock himself up in his room and I threw rocks at his window to get his attention. He’s still the same.

“Lightning went to the same school as us. A boy there - I think his name was Tseng - used to yank at my braid all morning before class. He had the biggest crush on me and I didn’t want to say anything… but I admit it hurt. Anyway, it drove her crazy, and when she had enough, she slammed his face onto his desk, breaking his nose. She met Leon at detention later that day. I don’t remember why, he was always in detention for talking back at teachers. 

“Ever since then, the three of us have been inseparable.” Aerith giggles. “Terra reminds me a lot of Leon: sensitive and to themselves.”

“Terra’s not that mean,” Aqua says before she could stop herself, blushing behind her hand. 

But Aerith is loving it. “That’s because he’s too smart for that.” She pauses. “You should see Tifa. Terra stayed with her and she’d love to meet you. She’s not far.” She points down an alleyway. “Just five blocks down and then you’d have to take the street to the left. Once you get close to the outskirts, you’ll see a sign for Seventh Heaven. You can’t miss it.” 

“Oh, I-” It’s the polite thing to do. But Ven. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“I won’t forgive you if you don’t see her.” Aeirth winks, then adds for compensation: “It would make Terra smile. I believe it, deep within my heart.”

Maybe it’s the use of the word “heart” that makes it sound like a prophecy. 

“Ah.” Aqua inhales. “I guess a short trip won’t be too bad.”

Aerith squirms - she’s restraining a knowing laugh.

“What?”

“It’s easy to get you or Terra to do anything if I hold one of you against the other.” She shrugs her shoulders as a way to hug herself since her arms are busy with the flowers. “That’s your secret weakness. All the heroes have one.”

[muse-oleum]

Fucknemies (fuckbuddies but with angst)

Yes, I’m aware I have an appalling sense of humor. 

Kingsman - Harry Hart x fem!OC

Based on this lovely anon’s request: Hi! Can ya write Harry with a Kingsman agent, enemies to lovers?

Summary: the mission agents Kay and Galahad were on goes to hell, where they finally stop bickering and start appreciating what the other has to give (*cough cough*)

This is going to be two parts, because I got carried away, so stay tuned for the smut! I toned down the ‘enemies’ to more ‘frenemies’ but I hope it’s still what the nonnie wanted. 

Word count: 2k85

Warnings: violence, swearing, prostitution, heavy themes, mentions of human trafficking

Also, my inspiration for this was this song, it’s badass, sexy and fits the theme of the underworld agencies pretty well. 

Agent Kay landed at Kingsman in the most uncharacteristic manner. She was, first of all, the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy tradesman based here in England; and her mother was an upper-end prostitute. 

Now, that shut up all these snobbish Kingsman boys alright. They didn’t know where to look ever since she had dropped the “w bomb,” as Merlin liked to call it. Her attitude, that of one raised between Soho and the up-end, was so ambiguous that most men were terrified by her. 

Most didn’t include agent Galahad. But then again he was rarely terrified by anything. Kay suspected he didn’t know what fear was. 

Little did Kay know that Galahad, or Harry, as she refused to call him, thought the exact same of her. Such lovely pet names as “hothead,” “idiot” or the more colorful and incontestably heartfelt “fucking imbecile,” were some of Harry’s favorite ways of nicknaming his feisty partner. 

For some reason, Merlin and Arthur absolutely delighted putting these two together for dangerous missions. It was almost as if their constant fighting in-between near-death and near-misses were their Sunday evening football gig. 

They loved it; and Merlin really couldn’t wait for his two friends to get their heads out of their own arses, and end that intolerable sexual tension once and for all. It was hanging over every curtain and curled up in every teapot, sizzling and unmistakably there. 

On that particular evening, Kay and Galahad were on an undercover “recognition” mission - the word had been stoically stressed by Merlin, the painful hitch in his voice the only indication that he already knew that shit was about to go down. Bad. 

So, an undercover mission. At some oil titan’s mansion somewhere in Italy. About two hundred guests and three different pools in which to drown Galahad if he became too irritating. Perfect. 

As Kay was exploring various creative ways to make him shut up if needed, Harry was troubled. 

He was troubled by the fact that he had a hard time focusing on anything else than the way her shoulders shone in the light of the chandeliers, or how her breath caused her chest to rise up, or how the thigh-high split in that godforsaken dress caused his mind to blank. 

It was all really infuriating. She was infuriating. 

Hot-blooded, compassionate, high-strung but cool under pressure, stunning, with the mouth of a sailor. She was delightful and sinful, all at the same time. And the older agent simply didn’t know what to do with himself every time he was near her. 

No doubt she thought him arrogant, snobbish and probably too old-fashioned. 

Little did she know all he longed for was to do very un-old-fashioned things with her. 

So, everything he said came out wrong, and with her quick wit, she absolutely murdered him with every comeback. He wasn’t sure what made her so enticing, apart from all the above, but he knew that virtually everyone was either terrified or drooling after her. Or both. 

Most of the time, both. 

A movement on her left caught Kay’s eye. Galahad was beckoning to her. They were posing as a couple, a little hint amongst the billions Merlin had already worked very hard to give them. 

Eggsy said he never face palmed as much as when his two favorite agents were out in the field together. 

“Do you see him?” Galahad whispered, his eyes unfocused but trained on the far corner of the room. 

Kay followed his gaze, immediately spotting the armed goon, one arm under his vest, no doubt cradling a gun, scanning the room in a would-be subtle manner. 

“They know someone’s there.” 

“On a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?” Kay asked, her tone all that was innocent. 

Harry shot her a look. Her neck was craned towards the bar, avoiding looking in the direction of the armed man, although he knew she was following his every movement. 

He couldn’t help but notice how the slope of her neck met with her right shoulder in a sensuous curve. Her breaths were coming more rapidly now, and, as ungentlemanly as it was, Harry simply could not take his eyes off of her. 

She caught him staring, arching her eyebrow, and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.

“If they find us out, a solid seven.”

She scoffed, “we got out of a nine before, seven’s a joke.” 

Harry glared at her. 

“Last time, the nine was because of all issues locked, here the seven is because we’re clearly outnumbered. We weren’t outnumbered last time. So let me rephrase that: it’s a nine and a bit and we’re fucked.”

It was her turn to glare, sending him a look that plainly stated that she didn’t see the need for making such a fuss. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Kay asked, eyes going around the room. 

Three more armed agents had shown up, but nobody else here seemed to have noticed them. Wearing dark suits and all-too visible earpieces, Kay wondered how people could be so unobserving. 

“Get the fuck out ‘s the plan,” came a strong Scottish voice, a little too strained for her liking. 

“But we’ve achieved nothing,” she whispered, angry that the mission would be fruitless. 

She knew that oil trader had another, much more unpleasant, and definitely illegal trading business. Involving humans. 

As the daughter of a prostitute, she knew too well what exploitation was like. Her mother had not coddled her, but had shown her the ugly truth of her world. She could not stand by as others suffered a similar, sometimes worse, fate. 

“I agree,” Galahad said, causing Kay to look up sharply, surprised to hear her oh so careful partner agreeing with her. “Kay’s right, there are lives at stake here that we can’t ignore.” 

Kay blinked once, properly stunned. 

It’s not that Harry was unfeeling - he was doing this job to save lives too, after all - but he was sometimes too cerebral and restrained for her liking. 

Although, weirdly, she had to admit she liked that too. They were complementary; one was always there to catch the other. Perhaps that was Merlin’s scheming all along? The annoying Scot had something of a knack for psychoanalysis. 

Galahad’s brow was set, lips pursued and eyes hard. The traits of a man hellbent on seeing at least part of this through. She noticed how handsome he was, and how his charisma came not from his appearance so much as his demeanor. 

“So what do we do?” she asked, a little breathless, “do we keep snooping around and pray to all the gods and goddesses above to make it out in one piece?” 

“Pretty much.”

“You know what, Harry, for once, I won’t call you an arrogant upper-class jerk.” 

Kay left him standing there, a small smile on her face. She could hear Merlin grumbling something about murdering the two of them once he got them back at HQ. 

Nobody really cared about Merlin’s grumbling, as a rule; it was his default communication method. 

“Kay, take the upper floor and search for a door locked with a code. I’ll hack it. Galahad, take the gallery, you two keep an eye out. They know you’re here.” 

“I’m the soul of discretion, Merlin.” 

Kay heard Harry guffaw through her earpiece, earning him a smirk. 

“Ye, I’ll believe you if you come back without a hole through your head. Get to it.”

Always the picture of optimism and positivity, Kay thought, amused. Oh, let’s see what you’re hiding there...

She’d come to a locked door requiring a code. Patiently, Kay waited for Merlin to send her the code through her glasses. She waited a few seconds, before asking:

“Merlin? I need the code now, not in three hundred years.” 

“Afraid you won’t get it, princess,” came a voice that was decidedly not Merlin’s. 

Kay whirled around, face to face with a rather grumpy looking armed guard and his equally grumpy companion. 

Shit. So much for discretion. 

Without leaving her much time to deliberate, he attacked, slashing her arm with a knife she hadn’t noticed. It was painful, but bearable. His friend looked on, a small smile pasted on his face. 

Don’t you worry, sweetheart, I’m going to wipe that smile off your face in no time. 

Her retaliation came swiftly. 

If people had been praising Black Widow on screen - and she had to admit Scarlet Jo had the moves down - she was a Black Widow. That man never knew how his neck broke, or indeed how her legs were suddenly wrapped around his throat at all. 

His friend had stopped smiling, a moderate improvement to his otherwise average features. He looked much better grumpy. 

Your turn, sweetie. 

Too bad Kay had failed to notice another armed agent - not her armed agent, unfortunately - because it really could have ended here and there if she had. 

Instead, she felt the bullet slice through her thigh even before she registered the sound of the trigger. It tore through muscle and lodged itself in the bone, causing her to scream out in pain. Blood was gushing out; all she could hope for now was that Harry was near and that the bullet had missed the artery. 

Somehow, she wasn’t too hopeful. 

“Nice little trick you got there. With those legs, it’s hardly surprising. Too bad I had to aim for them, eh?” 

That was the last thing he ever said. 

A disheveled, very angry and murderous looking Harry ended his life here and there, sparing him the pain he had inflicted on Kay only because his conscience told him so. 

A very flimsy, very tiny part of his conscience. 

“Too bad, indeed,” he said, before rushing to Kay’s side. 

Her vision was blurred and even though she tried to stem the blood flow, she knew the bullet had at least scraped the artery. 

“Merlin, what the fuck were you doing?” 

That caused her to chuckle slightly. Hearing Harry swear was one of the most entertaining things in her life. It was so out of place, so opposite his brushed-up, gentleman front. 

“Those bastards cut the connection!” came the angry voice of the Scotsman. “Get her out of here, I’ll send the car. It’ll be a bumpy ride, so you better hold on to her, and whatever you do, don’t let her lose consciousness ye hear me?” 

The car ride was one of Kay’s worst experiences ever. 

She wanted to throw up, almost did, refrained herself from emptying her stomach right on Harry’s impeccable waistcoat. The shivers arrived just before they reached HQ, where a literal battalion of nurses took over. 

Harry, covered in blood, made a move to go after her, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“Wasn’t your fault. They got us clean.”

He turned towards Merlin, jaw set. 

“She’ll be furious, she really wanted to take him and his human trafficking gang down.” 

“And someone else will, I promise. For now, ye need a drink, and a strong one. You also need to finally get it off your chest because I swear, if having her nearly die is what’s gonna take to make the two of you fucking focus again, I’ll do it again.”

Harry turned a disbelieving look towards his friend. With narrowed eyes, he took a step towards him. Merlin held up his hands.

“This one wasn’t my doing, but I hope it’s helped you realize how much of an idiot you’ve been. She’s a keeper, but you keep pushing her away with you high-almighty attitude. Stop being a goddamn idiot.” 

This time, Harry was quite simply speechless. 

“Ex-excuse me?”

Merlin ran a hand over his eyes, sighing deeply. 

“You’re mad about her, she’s mad about you, so you fight because none of you can see how much you mean to each other. Honestly, it’s exhausting. Get it over with.”

Merlin walked away, leaving his friend ruminating the reproaches over in his head. 

That he loved her, he had no doubt. The feeling of utter helplessness and fear that had gripped him when he heard her scream was sickening. 

Yes, she drove him mad. He wanted her desperately; wanted her to like him and want him, need him. Until tonight, when she had snuggled against him, whimpering in pain, he had not thought a woman like her would ever need anyone. 

And she had called him Harry. 

Perhaps Merlin was right and it was time he put the record straight. 

If you guys didn’t notice the subtle hint of Darcy/Elizabeth in there idk what to say to you. Stay tuned for part II!

[thelittlehansy]

Narcissism in the Westregraad family part 1

If Hans is several times called a sociopath/psychopath ( i had make a post about it on my blog explaining that hans dont represent with accuracy sociopath/psychopath behavior)  i also saw him be qualified to be a narcissist and having narcissistic personality disorder a lot of times. and i m not gonna lie this is my reaction about people assuming hans has NPD

😅😁

First because i have an history with that disorder my parents who are psychiatrist talk a lot with me about it at a period where i think i had a friend who was one.But mainly because we label very easily person with the term “narcissist” There is this trend in my country  to accuse ex-boyfriend who are manipulative and are product of toxic masculinity  to be narcissist. when NPD is a true disorder , a psychiatrist illness along with anti social personality disorder and it’s so annoying when people think they can say if someone is narcissist based on what they thing the disorder is when we need true psychiatrist to diagnose it.

I took what a website (helpguide.org) said about narcissist personality disorder symptoms and the explanation and not a silly website  “ wants to knows if you ex is one”

since hans is a fictional character and therefore do not exist  in real life took informations about the disorder and makes them apply to Hans personality is the closest  thing we have to say if he is one or not.

So does hans have narcissist personality disorder ?

first i want to say this is more difficult to say if hans is one that with psychopath/sociopath symptoms because there are way more difficult to catch and less obvious and we can easily become parano ( i say that based on personal experience )  thats why also we need to look at all hans relationship to people not only at his relationship with his ex girlfriend.

Grandiose sense of self-importance

Grandiosity is the defining characteristic of narcissism. More than just arrogance or vanity, grandiosity is an unrealistic sense of superiority. Narcissists believe they are unique or “special” and can only be understood by other special people. What’s more, they are too good for anything average or ordinary. They only want to associate and be associated with other high-status people, places, and things.

based on the movie : we don’t know.  Hans want to be king but we don’t knows why we can say that hans want to be the hero of arendelle because he feel grandiose but this is only an assumption he could also feel useless and that’s why he want so much to be king and a hero. we can add also that Hans is not bothers by the idea of being associated with arendelle citizens. the movie never contradict the scene where he show concern for arendelle citizens and wants to take her of the peasant.

  other information we have from a frozen heart : Hans feel useless as the 13th son of King he think he is useless , worthless a throwaway He feel we will never be needed. Hans feels inferior to his older brothers. It seems Hans wants attention only of basic people ? Nothing is say about him believing he think only special person can understand him. We only knows he wants the attention of his family.

complementary information : there is the argument that Narc have low self esteem yes but they are not conscious and aware like how hans is aware about his low self esteem. Hans dont compensate his low self esteem. also “ Recent research discounts the earlier theory and now indicates that if you are suffering from narcissistic personality disorder, you likely also have high self-esteem – both on the surface and below the surface.” source : Psyc

Narcissists also believe that they’re better than everyone else and expect recognition as such—even when they’ve done nothing to earn it. They will often exaggerate or outright lie about their achievements and talents. And when they talk about work or relationships, all you’ll hear is how much they contribute, how great they are, and how lucky the people in their lives are to have them. They are the undisputed star and everyone else is at best a bit player.

based only on the movie : we dont knows. again the only thing we have  is “ i m gonna be the hero of arendelle”  but saying hans think he is better than everyone because of that is to me too way much interpretation. it also contradict what it say previously Hans dont expect recognition without doing nothing. For him he need to do something and act like a hero to have arendelle respect.

complementary information on a frozen heart : Hans doesn’t except recognition without doing nothing. Hans believe he had to earn recognition. We know that he think he can be a good king but nothing about great exaggerate his achievement or talent,Also His father told him “ dont disappoint me…again” and he respond “ i wont” he knows he need to prove himself to have approval of his father. That’s what drive him to go in arendelle “ prove them wrong”Having to earn people affection is  definitely one of hans goal

.Lives in a fantasy world that supports their delusions of grandeur Since reality doesn’t support their grandiose view of themselves, narcissists live in a fantasy world propped up by distortion, self-deception, and magical thinking. They spin self-glorifying fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, attractiveness, and ideal love that make them feel special and in control. These fantasies protect them from feelings of inner emptiness and shame, so facts and opinions that contradict them are ignored or rationalized away. Anything that threatens to burst the fantasy bubble is met with extreme defensiveness and even rage, so those around the narcissist learn to tread carefully around their denial of reality

.Based on the movie : we doesn’t knows.anything of that to me its making wayyy to much assumption about hans personality that were never show in the movie. we have maybe one moment : the duke of weselton criticized him when he give the cloaks hans is calm and say the princess has give her orders.he became aggressive when the duke criticized anna ( his key to the throne) not him. he is calm when this is about him. Hans is aggressive at the end when anna say to him he  is not match for elsa. so we just dont know since Hans show different behavior. again they never told us why hans wants to be king he wants to be hero can be because he did live in a fantasy world but also because he dont live in a fantasy world and finally has his moment to shine.

others information on a  frozen heart :  somewhere we are in hans head ! so what told us ? in the beginning of a frozen heart hans has dream : only’s son of his father he told him how proud he is of him and this is time for him to give him his kingdom. then he stop and told himself : “ this is never gonna happened and he needs to stop making fantasy and dream about thing that never gonna happened his father hates him and needs to dealt with that. Hans doesn’t believe in his fantasy. He is not living in his fantasy. Then hans doesn’t react to thing that threaten his fantasy bubble by extreme defensiveness. on the contrary he is resigned to be a throwaway and worthless.  

Needs constant praise and admirationA narcissist’s sense of superiority is like a balloon that gradually loses air without a steady stream of applause and recognition to keep it inflated. The occasional compliment is not enough. Narcissists need constant food for their ego, so they surround themselves with people who are willing to cater to their obsessive craving for affirmation. These relationships are very one-sided. It’s all about what the admirer can do for the narcissist, never the other way around. And if there is ever an interruption or diminishment in the admirer’s attention and praise, the narcissist treats it as a betrayal

.based on the movie : hans come from a family that ignore him and make him feel invisible. we can also say based on his relationship with anna for Hans its all about anna , please her , do what she wants , it is not one side  because he wants to be king. arendelle , its all about him making them love him. lets also added it say Hans is a social chameleon. hans definitely has no problem making effort to win people heart. it is not one side. with Hans this is all about how he can please people to have what he wants. so we doesn’t exactly  know but some element contradict that behavior

.based on a frozen heart : He doesn’t seems to show his behavior again since what he feels as a young adult in his mind is inferiority not superiority. He wants legitimate compliment not exaggerate compliment he want to have respect and he was going to deal with the fact that his father hates him arendelle was an idea from his brothers lars , hans , him was going to  go to the brotherhood once his father say it.. so Hans can live without praise and admiration. Hans wants all the times to have his father proud of him have his respect trust , the king on the other hand humiliate hans and abuse him and doesn’t even respect him. The relationship between hans and his father is one side on hans part.

Sense of entitlement Because they consider themselves special, narcissists expect favorable treatment as their due. They truly believe that whatever they want, they should get. They also expect the people around them to automatically comply with their every wish and whim. That is their only value. If you don’t anticipate and meet their every need, then you’re useless. And if you have the nerve to defy their will or “selfishly” ask for something in return, prepare yourself for aggression, outrage, or the cold shoulder.

Based on the movie : dont know. all of that are too much interpretation. hans can feel special but also not special , he can think be a king is his right , but he can also want to be king for others reasons. so we just dont know. also again hans dont expect the people around him  to automatically comply with his every wish and whim.

with the information on a frozen heart : Hans has a plan : going to elsa coronation in order to marry her. His reaction , he need to show his father than he can trust him and be responsible. He passed 3 years of his life doing that. Prove himself he is capable to have his trust. in the book it reveal hans dont feel special , he dont expect people to give him a favorable treatment since he is little hans was show that he need to prove himself and that it is never enough. Hans show a opposite behavior he has to prove himself to the whole world , arendelle , his father, his brothers. everything with him is earned and deserve. he needs to work hard 

Exploits others without guilt or shame Narcissists never develop the ability to identify with the feelings of others—to put themselves in other people’s shoes. In other words, they lack empathy. In many ways, they view the people in their lives as objects—there to serve their needs. As a consequence, they don’t think twice about taking advantage of others to achieve their own ends. Sometimes this interpersonal exploitation is malicious, but often it is simply oblivious. Narcissists simply don’t think about how their behavior affects others. And if you point it out, they still won’t truly get it. The only thing they understand is their own needs.

based on the movie : hans do exploit others he exploit anna  !  but he exploit others in order to achieve a plan he makes and prepare.  we dont know how he view people in his life. and if hans exploit others when he doesn’t have a plan in mind and view them as object. the fact that he exploit anna is not enough to say he has the symptoms. also “ the only thing they understand is their own needs” is very uncertain since hans did not exploit arendelle citizens and show to be concern about their needs.

with a frozen heart : Hans did exploit others he exploit anna and elsa for his plan in arendelle and also hide his intention to his father in order to get what he wants. to the coronation. But he doesn’t do it without shame/guilt/empathy since After propose to help his father he show regret ans say to himself what i got myself into. Hans say that anna would be happy to insult him so he knows he has done something bad and can put himself in people’s shoes. He also say how he has never be a murderer. , He show also for a very short time empathy for the the queen who has lost her sister. so he  has a conscience.We also knows hans doesn’t take people as object he show empathy for , his mother , ignore on her birthday ,  his sister in law also ignored by his brother , his horse maybe also , he has a normal relationship with his brothers lars.if he definitely is able to exploit others for his selfish interest but not in the same way narcissist exploit people.  he dont take people as object in his life

.Frequently demeans, intimidates, bullies, or belittles others 

Narcissists feel threatened whenever they encounter someone who appears to have something they lack—especially those who are confident and popular. They’re also threatened by people who don’t kowtow to them or who challenge them in any way. Their defense mechanism is contempt. The only way to neutralize the threat and prop up their own sagging ego is to put those people down. They may do it in a patronizing or dismissive way as if to demonstrate how little the other person means to them. Or they may go on the attack with insults, name-calling, bullying, and threats to force the other person back into line.

based on the movie : we dont know. i read hans bully anna and elsa and act like a bullier ? i dont really get it on the contrary hans is social chameleon he earn the trust of everyone and at the end didn’t bully anna he abandon her ! he definitely intimidate anna  but  the part “frequently” lack we just doesn’t knows.

based on the book : this one is interesting ! because hans do try some time to intimates people to have what he wants and even wants to thank his brothers but he also hates to do that at others part and prefer to be sweet to people , smart and not violent.  he did it with oaken the duke of weselton men  even mock him because of that. hans also say a lot of time that he is not violent he on the contrary try to please people to have what he wants. he offered the man a territory in his kingdom to have them on his side.we also learn that hans is victim of  severe bullying  he hate intimidates people , refuse to fight back dont want to act like his brothers and hates his brothers and how they treat him his brothers frequently dreams, intimidates , bullies , or belittle him.  so if Hans did show at some part tried to intimidates the dignitaries or anna at the end this is not a part of the personality on his everyday life. he used two or three time intimidation as a tool to have what he wants

.conclusion  ; i think we can say based only on the movie :  say Hans  has  narcissist personality disorder is a based on a lot assumption about  his character ,  there is even small some things he did  than contradict some NPD behavior.with the additional information disney give us : hans doesn’t have the disorder he doesn’t have any symptoms. he exploit others but this is because he is an opportunist. there is also vulnerability narcissism who is not grandiose but Hans dont show the symptoms   at all of narcissist. so grandiose or vulnerable this is not really the question. let’s also said that everyone has a level of narcissism because it is a spectrum and apparently too much narcissism is not necessarily a bad thing ( yeah read that somewhere)

[xavantina]

I got my hands on a copy of the new Euroman for @idontfindyouthatinteresting, and I took the opportunity to translate some of the interview as well. I tried scanning the article, but my scanner is broken, so you’ll have to make due with iPhone pics of the photos until someone with a working scanner gets in the game.

Rest of the photos and the interview under the cut.

The interview itself was a monster of a thing with lots and lots of flowery descriptions of random scenery, so I cut it down to just the questions, though a few highlights of the rest include:

When he was knighted the Queen of Denmark told him she liked Flame and Citron and he was like ‘fuck yeah’.

He rolls up with his classic bedroom eyes, mismatched tracksuit, and worn sneakers, and just needs a smoke before they go in.

The reporter thinks it’s pointless for a hairdresser to style Mads’ hair because it’s amazing already.

Mads goes around introducing himself to everyone in the room with “Hi. My name is Mads.”

He speaks very fast in Danish.

Onward with the questions:

Q. You were an unknown dancer for ten years before you became an actor. In terms of staying grounded, has it been an advantage for you that you had your breakthrough at such a mature age?

A. Yes, I think so. I probably wouldn’t have had problems staying grounded even if I had been 20 years old. But I think it’s harder for a 17-year-old today, where you can have your breakthrough on a whole different platform and gain three million followers, or whatever the hell they have. It’s obvious that if everyone thinks you’re cool, and you’re told so a bit too often, then you start thinking ‘yeah, I am. I’m cool’. It’s easier to handle being recognized in the street when you’re 32, than when you’re 17. I think.

 Q. Your James Bond co-star Jesper Christensen has said that he can no longer enter a public space and just sit there observing, because everyone is always staring at him. He can no longer gain inspiration for his work from real life– from ‘ordinary people’ – like he used to. Do you feel the same way?

A. It’s a terrible loss. It’s not that I’ve always been preparing to be an actor, but I’ve always been curious. Even as a child, I would sit in different places and watch what was happening over there, human behavior, the way they looked and the way they walked. Always. And too often I started copying people when I saw them. I would sit just like them for a while, just to try how it felt. That’s over now. Whenever I’m out somewhere, 50 people are sitting around staring at me. Then I have to worry about scratching my nose, and there’s 40 camera phones in my face. Then I have to go to a different country.

Q. Don’t you get recognised abroad?

A. They know me around the world to various degrees. There are definitely many places where they don’t care at all, but James Bond, Star Wars, and Marvel movies, all of which I’ve starred in, have a great reach. The happy result of this is that people become curious about me as an actor, so I’m often stopped abroad because people know me from The Green Butchers or The Hunt. That’s super cool.

Q. Is it important for you to get recognition in the business? And do you?

A. A foreign colleague whom I have great respect for told me that he and three friends would sit down and watch the Pusher trilogy every weekend. That made me happy. Recognition from colleagues is important. Recognition from yourself is just much more important. You can get into a cycle where you go around constantly patting each other on the back because you need it so badly in my line of work. We’re judged all the time. It’s really hard, and so we probably have a tendency to praise each other more than we should. You should be happy when other people think what you’re doing is great, but you need to remember to consider what you think about it personally. ‘Was this what I wanted? Yes, okay, fine. Next time I might go in this direction instead.’ That’s important. And it’s the same if what people are saying about you sucks. There are many opinions out there. And if you start reading on social media you’ll never get to bed. You should stay away from that.

Q. Where do you find material and inspiration when you can’t go people-watching anymore? Do you have a memory bank you draw from?

A. Probably. I can also sit and watch people on screen, television and so on. But inspiration should primarily come from the script and the director. But I really miss sitting around and watching other people, and I certainly miss them not staring at me. I don’t try to hide though, I never wear a cap or anything. Sunglasses annoy the hell out of me, so I don’t use those at all. Luckily I‘m forgetful: I walk outside in the morning and don’t spend a second wondering how it’s going to be when I arrive somewhere – whether I’ll be recognized, I mean. That’s not just something I’m saying. I get in my car and drive somewhere and enter wherever I’m going, and don’t think about it at all. It’s not until people do this (Mads widens his eyes and turns his head) and do a double check that I’m reminded what it’s like. And that’s good, because otherwise I’d never leave the house.

Q. But you haven’t always been famous – in Hollywood you were a total unknown in the beginning. As the unknown from a small country did you have to work to earn the respect from people around you when you did your first foreign films?

A. I never consciously considered that I had to do something to make them listen to me. If I thought something could be done differently, I haven’t been afraid of going up to people and telling them. Obviously it’s not like it is in Denmark where I can just call Thomas Vinterberg up and say ‘hey, I just had an idea, won’t you come over?’ A Hollywood director on a big movie has maybe 30 actors on his list and everybody wants something from him, so the scale is different. But I still speak up, if there’s something wrong, and only if I’m serious about it. If I’m not serious about it, we just start working on whatever we’re doing.

Q. Are you treated differently on set now that you’re a bigger star?

A. Yes. I was very surprised with first time I was part of a large foreign production. We were on set, and I approached someone from the light-crew to ask about something. Then he looked down at the ground and didn’t answer. Turns out there had been this big name actor, whose name I can’t be bothered to mention, who had just done a movie with this crew, and the crew was under strict orders to never look this actor in the eyes. So there I was, a product of all this. Those were the kind of things I had to get used to. Luckily I found out that if I just focused on my work in the same way I usually did my surroundings would relax pretty quickly. They care more about things abroad than they do in Denmark. I’ve had some pretty weird experiences on foreign jobs. For example, I’m often assigned a so-called handler. Someone who meets me at the airport and helps with checking in and stuff like that. Which is fine, if you’re in Beijing and your have no idea where you’re going. But on foreign gigs I’ve also tried being a assigned a handler at Copenhagen Airport, who is supposed to follow me and help me. That’s pretty absurd, since I’ve checked in 2000 times before in Copenhagen and know how to do it. A handler is always dressed really nicely too, so everybody at the airport ends up staring at me even more. That’s a weird service.

Q. How about the treatment you receive from the other stars, or the business as a whole? How do you experience the hierarchy in Hollywood?

A. When I worked with Benedict Cumberbatch in Doctor Strange and with Daniel Craig in Casino Royale it was their first big films as well, so the hierarchy wasn’t crazy. I’ve been spared from meeting someone abroad who was a real hot shot or just tired of doing what they were doing. There are plenty of people with attitude, plenty of large personalities, but I’ve met very few proper divas who are impossible to work with. The few I have met have been here at home. It’s actually a myth, that this is a diva business. If you did an inquiry and compared us to bus drivers or doctors for example, I think actors would rate much lower than them on the diva-scale. We’re very conscious about not behaving like divas, so everyone tries to act natural. Nobody wants to be branded like that. And when one finally comes along, which obviously happens, then it’s so exciting, and it sounds like the whole business is infected with them. But holy shit, man, how many little kings in their little kingdoms have you met driving the 8 Line?

 Q. Your generation, which had its breakthrough 20-25 years ago, has taken up a lot of space back here at home and internationally. You’ve become…

A. You can say ‘old’. We’ve gotten bloody old.

Q. Has it only now become clear how much space you take up?

A. No. I think it was obvious from the beginning. We were a generation that grew up with a big fascination for certain foreign films. Many of us had Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola in common. There weren’t’ many Danish films we could relate to. [here follows a whole bit about Danish movie history that no one outside Denmark will care about, so I’m skipping it] We felt like we were living in the 50’s. We were watching foreign movies like ‘Taxi Driver’ and saying to each other ‘is this from 1975?’ What have we done in Denmark this year? It was crazy. Completely crazy. Obviously something had to be done. And it was. We grew in different directions but suddenly the gap wasn’t so wide… I mean, we were no longer being told what it was like to be a teenager by an 88 year old director. We were the same age and we communicated directly. Just like Scorsese and De Niro in the 70’s. Same age, let’s go, rock’n’roll. Obviously it’s hard for the next generation, who comes after us, to just change things as well. Because we did the right thing. So now they either have to copy that approach, or improve it, or come up with something completely new. It was easier for us, if I’m being honest. We said ‘Hey, have you seen this before?’ and people went ‘No, we haven’t. Cool!’ But we had to do it. And we were allowed to do it, first and foremost. Some things went wrong, some things went right. But it was really important.

 Q. You and your brother both seem like you’re very down to earth. Is that a result of growing up on Nørrebro?

A. Yes, I guess. No… Where the fuck did Pilou (Asbæk) grow up? He has some higher ‘a’s than I do, when he taaaaalks. But he’s damn well down to earth too. So I think it’s a Danish thing. If you try to rise a bit above other people, it won’t be very long until you’re pulled back down.

Q. Have you tried it?

A. No. As a Danish person it’s very hard to demand only to be served the yellow M&Ms without people laughing at you.

Q. Can’t it be limiting, that we’re like that? That everything has to be so down to earth.

Pause.

A. It’s funny, because we’re different than the Swedish. They have a whole different way of engaging with their stars. The Swedish are down to earth too. But when Swedish actors sit down to talk like this, like I’m doing now, and a journalist enters the room, that they start (Mads straightens and adopt a somber tone) speaking like this. And the things they say become great philosophy. They also start to move (he waves his arm theatrically) like they were on stage at the Royal Theatre. When I see that I think ‘what the fuck just happened?’. The Swedish write with great reverence about their stars as well. They have a huge amount of respect for what they give us. Swedish stars have a whole different status in society than we do in Denmark. They like putting things up on a pedestal, and they’re allowed to do that in a totally different way then we are. You can’t do that here. And thank God for that. But you can also say, that in Denmark you don’t always respect people for what they can do. Sometimes people will go ‘Fuck man, I can do what Caroline Wozniacki does. She’s the worst I’ve ever seen.’ Okay? I mean, it’s nice that we’re down to earth in Denmark. But it’s grotesque to say that ‘What Wozniacki does, I can do just as well.’

 So that’s how I spent the last five hours of my life...

[kuiperblog]

Plugged In

Vision and Scarlet Witch drop off the grid and spend a couple of weeks in Scotland, and we see the two kiss. (They're obviously sharing a hotel room as well.) Two other prominent characters kiss and express their undying love. Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanov bat their eyelids at one another.

Here’s a quiz: was the above written by a fawning teenager posting on their MCU fanblog to report on their favorite Marvel moments, or is it an excerpt from a Christian movie review written to warn parents about the potentially lewd and lascivious content in Avengers Infinity War?

“Plugged In” is a movie review/screening site run by the conservative Christian organization Focus on the Family, presumably for the purpose of allowing parents to check to see whether movies have objectionable content before allowing their kids to see them.  (For example, the section above, detailing some of the “sexual content” present in Infinity War.)

Captain Marvel spoilers below the fold:

Plugged In’s movie reviews come with detailed content warnings about things like Sexual Content, Violent Content, and Crude Language, along with a “miscellaneous negative content” section to capture anything that doesn’t fit into the above categories but could be a negative influence on kids (e.g. shoplifting or other immoral behavior).

Here’s a sampling of some of the objectionable material noted in their review of Captain Marvel:

It’s important to remember that children are influenced by the media they consume, and coughing up an infinity stone” is not the kind of behavior you would want your son or daughter to try to imitate at the dinner table, I guess?

Here’s some of the “negative elements” present in Captain America: Civil War:

These actually seem to be content warnings in the style of trigger warnings: this comes across much like an admonition of a film for showing characters being denied due process, and more a little, “Heads up, if seeing people denied due process is a particular pain point for you, maybe avoid this one.”  Oh, and if you’re sensitive about adoption jokes, you might take issue with the first Avengers ensemble movie:

(Until reading this, I had never even stopped to consider that Thor, in saying “he’s adopted” to try and distance himself from Loki, might actually be making the kind of remark that could be a pain point for adoptees or adoption advocates.)

While content warnings and “negative elements” are a big part of their movie reviews, the site seems equally interested in praising movies for their positive elements:

Vers may be a little uncertain about who she is, but she knows what she is: one of the Kree’s “noble warrior heroes,” and she does her best to live up to the part. She fights the Kree’s enemies with courage, aplomb and a bit of sass. Surely Yon-Rogg would be proud.

But as she learns more about her past, she comes to a better understanding of who and what a hero should be. It’s not all about taking on and taking out the “bad guys.” It's also about saving and protecting the innocent, be they just a handful of refugees or a whole planet of sentient beings. And she learns that it’s not her near-divine superpowers that make her a hero: It’s her frail, sometimes fallible humanity.

We see plenty of flashbacks to Carol’s childhood—flashbacks that focus especially on her failures. She flies off a go-cart track in one such miscue, gets brushed out of a batter’s box in another. Her critics seem legion, telling her repeatedly how weak she is, how she’ll never succeed. But each time, Carol climbs back up and digs back in. It’s not about how many times she falls, but how many times she gets back up.

And here, she always gets back up. That’s a nice message for all of us, I think: Sometimes we imagine that our greatest achievements are, naturally, our successes. It’s easy to forget that we are more shaped by our failures—and that our character is formed in the resiliency we show in the face of them.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they seem to like Captain America quite a bit, as expressed in this review which I surprisingly found to be as well-written as it is fawning:

By definition, superhero movies are about … heroes. We've seen a bevy of them walk, run, jump and fly through our movie theaters during the last several years, and there's no sign of them stopping.

But we haven't seen a hero like Captain America in a long, long time.

Cap traces his comic book roots to World War II, when he was created to take on Nazis and fight for the American Way. He was always an unapologetically nationalistic figure, and in this new movie he still is. As such, the film is an intentional throwback to a more innocent, more optimistic time, before scandal and cynicism and cable news shout-fests had beaten our national character beyond recognition. This movie recalls the days when Americans—most of them, anyway—truly considered the country a beacon, a city on a hill. And Captain America represents what we've long thought to be what's best about us: Strength. An uncompromising spirit. Bravery, sometimes brash, but polite and self-effacing too.

"You don't give up, do you?" Schmidt groans at Cap during a climactic melee.

"Nope," he says.

How very "American" his response is. Simple. Straightforward. This is a guy who lets his actions speak for him.

Now, we need not say Cap represents an America that, for the most part, only ever lived in its national imagination. We must point out that the film has a few troublesome problems, including its love of wall-to-wall violence and the fact that our main hero is partly the product of (when you really sit and think about it) some potentially problematic chemistry. It's a little weird to cheer for a guy who got strong through scientific alchemy when most of us are warning our kids about the dangers of body- and mind-altering drugs.

And yet there's an inescapable optimism here, a goodness. Captain America tells us that muscles and nifty shields are great and all, but true heroism comes from within. And that it never goes out of style.

Some of the content reviews are quite amusingly detailed and over-the-top in what they consider to be objectionable content, but this review is actually the first place I encountered the idea that Captain America might inadvertently be promoting steroid use, as Steve Rogers goes from scrawny to brawny by getting injected by a miracle drug, rather than engaging in athletic practice or strength training.  That’s an interesting and new take I didn’t expect to find while reading a movie review site for Christian parents. Even if he is a stand-up guy, Steve Rogers kind of got to take the easy way out. 

Obviously, that’s not the message of the movie, and in fact it’s sort of implied that Steve Rogers does sort of “earn” his powers by being the only one sufficiently “pure of heart” to not be corrupted by power.  But it is the kind of thing that, if seen in a certain light, could be viewed as kind of problematic.  And I wonder if perhaps Plugged In might be exactly the kind of movie review site that would appeal to the puritans that seem to be so common on tumblr.

[delayedcritique]

IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK REVIEW

“A slow and mediocre follow up for ‘Moonlight’ director, Barry Jenkins”

BY COLLIN DE LADE

“If Beale Street Could Talk” is the latest drama from Academy Award-winning director, Barry Jenkins centering on a love story separated by wrongful imprisonment. The young Tish (KiKi Layne) is deep in love and carrying the child for life long friend, Alonzo (Stephan James). Unfortunately for the happy couple, Alonzo has been imprisoned for rape charges that he did not commit. In a story of love, trust, and distance, the two families of Tish and Alonzo must fight for Alonzo’s freedom before his baby is born. Critics have been universally praising this film as another hit for the award-winning Barry Jenkins, and I just can’t see why.

Barry Jenkins delivered a very emotional and well-executed movie with “Moonlight”. His direction was great, the acting was superb, and the narrative was very interesting to follow. It's winning of Best Picture at the Oscars was a very important achievement that was well earned. Jenkins must have gotten to his head over said film’s awards buzz, as his newest movie is the definition of Oscar-bait boredom.

As a love story, Tish and Alonzo must have good chemistry and invest the audience into following their story. While neither actor is to blame, this couple is the most wide-eyed, overly affectionate lovers to be put on screen. Every moment together has to reinforce the idea that they are in love; whether with endless stares for each other or having to reconfess their love every other minute. I couldn’t care less about anything to do with this couple; whether it’s the birth of their terribly acting child at the end or the actual serious topic of wrongfully being accused of rape simply for being black.

An element that doesn’t help the investment in this love story is the obnoxious score that replays every fantastic flashback involving their love. This score, which is played in the trailers, is replayed over-and-over again as if it was a place over that was never changed out. My disgust for Tish and Alonzo’s love story is not helped by this overly fantasized score played every five minutes. Replace this score and I might have had some more sympathy for the leads.

The biggest praise to come out of this movie is the supporting role of Regina King. If I had to say anything nice about the film, it would be Regina King; and yet I don’t see the appeal for her many award nominations. King’s role in the film is relying on the audience’s investment in seeing Tish and Alonzo together; meaning that her effects felt pointless in my opinion when I didn’t like Tish and Alonzo’s love story.

There is one scene in the film that I can completely get behind, which is the initial family gathering when Tish tells her family and Alonzo’s family that she’s having a baby. This scene early one completely got me invested due to Tish and Alonzo really having nothing to do with it. All the supporting characters had so much life and relatability that Tish and Alonzo lacked. As a short film, this family gathering scene would be worth critical awards recognition. Seeing how the movie continues, this emotional scene is completely buried.

There has to be something I didn’t see with “If Beale Street Could Talk”, as I left disliking nearly everything about it. This has to be that rare film to come out once in a while where I have the completely opposite response to, as I really can’t don’t see the appeal of it. I was bored to tears by this movie and have no recommendations to give out for it.

4/10