#in the same way we had Eddie going back to his own root trauma - with his father - and processing and dealing with things

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Currently feeling a bit feral over the fact that Natalia means Christmas Day - as in the birth of Jesus Christ and Bucks story is so heavily leaning into the birth death and resurrection of Christ - the saviour - as a central part of his narrative arc. Her presence is literally about the birth of buck - as in processing his grief about why he was born - as a saviour baby.

[extasiswings]

I regret to inform you all that I am, once again, thinking about the Happiness Convention. The Happiness Convention where the walkway collapsed because the hotel identified the problem but never made the repairs. The same way that in Buck Begins, after learning about Daniel, Buck was finally able to name the root trauma of his own life…but never made the repairs. And now we’re coming up on a bridge collapse, specifically a bridge that’s theoretically going to collapse right under Buck’s feet, right as Buck is caught at a crisis point, in a spiral of regression and bad habits. Buck, who went through his whole coma dream and grappled for the first time directly with the Daniel of his subconscious mind, who learned something there but fell back into his old ways once he was back in reality. Buck, who knows he’s changing but is afraid of that change as well, who is fighting the universe at every turn, ignoring every signal that he’s making a mistake.

I’m thinking about Buck, who held his breath during the warehouse fire and kept holding it until he woke up in the hospital. And yet, Buck whose test scores show that there might still be a problem with his lungs. Buck identified the problem in Buck Begins, vaguely attempting therapy before quitting—he never made the repairs. He identified the problem AND the solution in In Another Life, but now that he’s awake, is trying to fix his perceived problems with a relationship with a woman who he thinks sees him because of her relationship with Death—but it won’t work, and he still hasn’t made, is not making, the repairs.

Originally, I was thinking that the finale being a bridge collapse and a callback to the Happiness Convention would be a positive—a chance for Buck to get it right, to show he’s grown, to take away the right lesson this time. And yet…how can he, when he still hasn’t made the repairs?

Three tries to get it right.

Buck Begins, In Another Life, And?

Crash and Learn, Pay it Forward, And?

Where his love life is concerned, if Buck Begins is the real flashpoint, then—

He misunderstood the assignment in Breaking Point when Taylor came back into his life. He misunderstood the assignment again in Death and Taxes.

Three tries to get it right.

S5, knowing about the will but never talking about it, being Something to Christopher more than friend but not quite letting himself cross the line to naming fatherhood. S6, being a sperm donor—donor, not dad—once again a father without really being a father. Although at the same time blossoming into a new domesticity with Christopher that we didn’t get to see in S5, something that it feels like grew out of 5B and Eddie’s breakdown. So close, but missing what’s right in front of him. But S7…?

Three tries to get it right…

Eddie got shot in front of Buck and we had the will reveal. Buck got struck by lightning and died in front of Eddie and we got Buck running to Eddie as a safe space and falling asleep on his couch. …what’s next?

Three tries to get it right…

…and Buck still needs to make the repairs.

Thinking thoughts…thinking thoughts…

[queerpanikkar]

Please elaborate on how the writers have been doing Eddie dirty since the beginning. I'm very intrigued!

Re: this post

Basically—

To preface, I’m not sure that Buddie was supposed to get as big as it did (but like, when you put two people with that much chemistry on screen, what did you expect to happen?). It’s very obvious, and it’s been heavily discussed, that Eddie was supposed to be a foil for Buck. Key word supposed to be.

Okay. So they get there eventually. But a lot of it still remains fanon. I could go on a long chronological rant of every event in order, but the gist of it is this: since S2 Eddie’s character development has inexplicably been tied to someone else at every step of the way. Here’s what I mean—

First it was Shannon. He moved here for Shannon, okay great. It’s a plot device; it makes total sense. Then, when he’s here, he gets tied to Buck, who helps him with all of his problems and asks for nothing in return.

Except if Eddie’s supposed to be Buck’s partner in every way that matters… then why is it always Buck helping Eddie out? I get that it’s in Buck’s nature to step over boundaries when he has people’s best interests at heart, but not once (in my memory) do we see Eddie do anything but rib Buck about Abby. When Buck was there for him about Shannon reappearance? When he listened and brought Eddie the god’s gift to earth that is Carla? You’re honestly going to tell me that Eddie, loyal to a fault, never reached out to see how Buck was feeling? Like you’re really gonna tell me that? Idk.

And then...what? No more character development for Eddie that season, I guess. This is off topic, but Shannon’s entire arc made me SO MAD only because of how chopped it was. That’s his wife. Who just divorced him. And then she immediately dies. That’s (forgive me 911 gods), that’s lazy writing really. You might say, well it came back to bite Eddie in season three—

But then he’s tied to Lena, or defending Bobby over Buck though it’s damn clear to Chim and Hen and Athena why Buck did it. He makes a comment: “Look, I know it sucks, but that's life, right? Whenever stuff didn't work out for me, my dad always told me to brush it off, keep moving forward.”

And Eddie’s fucking stupid when it comes to his own emotions, but he has them. He knows repression is bad. He’s not dumb. He’s what, in his 30s? He better damn well know that’s not how trauma works; he doesn’t treat his own kid like that (and he says as much in therapy later, so those feelings are there no matter how deep-rooted they are); he didn’t tell Shannon to get over it when her mother got sick and she had to take a break.

Continuing with the lawsuit arc, What I’ve yearned for—which, I don’t have a problem with Buck suing the city, I have a problem with how he did it and how everyone responded—is Eddie’s point of view. Both Buddie fights, in the grocery store and that one scene right before they make up, are from Buck’s perspective so obviously the viewer feels sympathetic for him. When Eddie asked if Buck knew how much Chris missed him, it’s said so spittingly that it almost seems disingenuous. We needed an Eddie’s POV without Buck to see how it affected him, and we didn’t get one. We never get anything from Eddie’s isolated perspective unless it’s fundamental.

So then he goes to therapy, except it’s tied to Maddie’s and Hen’s at the same time. Hen gets her retreat; Maddie goes back to where Doug tried to kill her; Eddie gets...the kitchen scene, which is great for Buddie, not so great for Eddie because dude, he needs therapy. Buck’s not a therapist. Buck can’t do what Frank did and he didn’t do what that lady from Hen’s retreat did. Once again, the writers created Eddie for Buck, for Chris, not to be Eddie Diaz, which really sucks.

At the beginning of this post, I wanted to say “let’s cast aside Buddie’s relationship for a moment and look into Eddie’s character development under an isolated lens”, except you literally can’t. Every step of the way Eddie is tied to someone else’s emotions; someone else’s actions. Even in Eddie Begins we’ve gotten Eddie growing into a good father, but we knew that. We could see that in 2x01. The most important thing in Eddie’s life is Christopher. That’s a fact. His parents tried to take him, super shitty, but once again didn’t do much for character development.. yet. Eddie was always going to protect Christopher, that’s not even in question.

(I’m not quite sure how to put Eddie Begins into words, but I did my best. Sorry if it’s not coherent.)

And then we get to S4.

Listen, about Ana, I can’t imagine Eddie going back and dating someone that he snapped at about the skateboard. I just can’t. It’s just so, so out of character. Not to mention Eddie telling Ana that Christopher would get over it and then leaving him to storm off to Buck. Now, I’m not saying that Buck doesn’t basically co-parent Chris at this point but it’s still...it leaves a bad taste in my mouth that the writers needed that conversation between Buck and Chris so badly that they framed Eddie as not noticing that Chris would leave the house; that he would use his phone to call an uber; that his son felt like he couldn’t talk to him after how much Eddie’s emphasized that he can.

My point is this: if you’re going to create a character and give them these stubborn, steadfast, brave and loyal traits, then at least have them stand by them. Eddie should, by this point, be his own character without him having to have drama with Buck or his son; yes he’s Buck’s partner, but he’s also his own person. They make every scene in which Eddie gets injured in the field simultaneously about Buck; where was Eddie’s perspective during the leg injury? During the blood clot? Hell, other than some eye-contact, we didn’t get much of Eddie’s immediate thought process about his son getting swept away in a tsunami.

Hopefully in s5 we see more of what I deem Eddie’s perspective. Also, these are all my opinions and I don’t mean to offend anyone or start drama! I love Eddie and Buck and Chris and Buddie but these are just my thoughts solely from an analytical perspective. Sorry it was so long!

Also, lol, my hottest hottest take is that it should’ve been Eddie and Chris in the tsunami, but that’s just something I’d have thought was cool. No relevance to plot.

tagging @podinaroot and @blutterlie from my post!

[dear-wormwoods]

Was there a moment in the book between eddie and richie that had you start thinking maybe there were deeper feelings between the two?

Like as in the earliest moment in the book where I started to go ‘hmmm’ on the very first read through?? Anon that was a long time ago!!! 

Okay so, assuming I am 14 years old and reading IT for the very first time, without that much practice interpreting symbolism and without the world knowledge needed to make certain connections that seem so obvious to me now as an adult, and I’m just casually reading the novel having only ever watched the miniseries as a little kid… these are the moments that probably jumped out at me first: 

For Eddie, it was The Dam in The Barrens (aka one of the most meaty chapters for Eddie analysis)

When Richie makes his entrance in the flashback, the first thing he does is pinch Eddie’s cheek. Then we get Eddie quietly observing Richie’s face when he’s being uncharacteristically solemn. Shortly after, Richie winks at him. 

And then we get THIS:

‘Ben, Eddie saw, was looking at Richie with a mixture of awe and wariness. Eddie could understand that.’

And this little reference:

‘….Richie’s sometimes enchanting, often exhausting charm.’

And then this:

“Oh—you mean it was your idea, Eds? Jesus, I’m sorry.” He fell down in front of Eddie and began salaaming wildly again. 

“Get up, stop it, you’re splattering mud on me!” Eddie cried. 

Richie jumped to his feet a second time and pinched Eddie’s cheek. “Cute, cute, cute!” Richie exclaimed. 

“Stop it, I hate that!”

And finally: 

‘A piece of Red Cross adhesive tape was wrapped around one of the bows of his glasses, and the loose end flapped against his cheekbone as he worked. Bill caught Eddie’s eye, smiled a little, and shrugged. It was just Richie.’

This is all in the span of like… four pages, and it’s relevant that our very first introduction to Richie as a kid is through Eddie’s eyes, and that he spends the whole sequence inner monologuing about how great yet confusing Richie is. 14-year-old me definitely picked up on the ‘this guy teases me playfully and I pretend to hate it but I’m actually obsessed with him’ dynamic.

But I need to stop and meta for a second because this chapter is FULL of Eddie subtext and most of it flew over my head 15 years ago:

Before we’re even introduced to kid!Richie, adult Eddie reflects on, and admits to the reader, that he actually liked when Richie called him Eds because it was a secret identity Richie bestowed upon him. He also informs the reader that as a kid people made fun of him by using homophobic slurs, and that Bill was not one of those people. It is so important that the chapter which contains an almost absurd amount of gay coding begins with those two things: that as a kid Eddie had more thoughts about Richie than he let on, and that Eddie was not just targeted by bullies for his asthma, but also for his sexuality. 

As the chapter goes on, it becomes very clear that when Richie calls him Eds, Eddie doesn’t always react to it. He reacts to it only when it’s accompanied by something flirtatious, a cheek pinch or a ‘cute’. This is the part that makes Eddie say he hates it, therefore it’s also the part he secretly likes. Also, when Eddie is watching Richie in that typical Eddie way where he can somehow make poorly taped up glasses sound poetic and delicate - Bill catches him in the act of staring, perfectly nonjudgmental. It’s important that it’s Bill who catches his eye - it connects back to the beginning of the chapter when he specifically states that Bill never called him a “sissy queerboy”. Bill never judges.

And then, of course, this scene leads right into Eddie’s recollection of the hobo sexually soliciting him, solidly drawing a connection between Eddie’s fear of sexuality and his fear of rotting/disease. Sandwiched between the real hobo and the IT leper encounter, there’s a short scene where Eddie tells Bill and Richie about what happened. Richie asks Eddie if he ‘knows about fucking’ and Eddie’s reaction is that he ‘hoped he wasn’t blushing’.

Then - THEN!! - Bill references gay sex, and in the same beat Richie says syphilis makes you rot, inadvertently creating a subconscious connection for Eddie between those two things. Sex gives you diseases.Sex makes you rot. Men can have sex with other men. If you have sex, sex with men, you get a disease, and you rot. It’s not a coincidence that after this conversation, not only is Eddie DRAWN to the house own Neibolt Street and pictures himself as the rotting hobo, when he eventually does encounter IT as the leper, it’s extra rotten and hones in on the blowjob solicitation… I mean, come on. 

For Richie, it was the following chapter, Georgie’s Room and the House on Neibolt Street:

So like, the possibility that Richie had a school-yard crush on Eddie had already crossed my mind before this because of him winking at Eddie and calling him cute and stuff in the previous chapter. But this chapter definitely cemented it because it’s from Richie’s POV and there is one obvious standout…

“They’ll all pinch my cheek and tell me how much I’ve grown,” Eddie said. 

“That’s cause they know how cute you are, Eds—just like me. I saw what a cutie you were the first time I met you.”

The SMOOTHNESS of it all. Richie has this wonderful ability to blatantly confess his feelings without ever being taken seriously for it. Can you imagine if Ben told Bev “I saw what a cutie you were the first time I met you”? It’s true, that’s exactly what happened. But would he ever say that to her at this point in time? NO! Because it’s very obviously FLIRTY LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT SHIT! But because it’s Richie and he’s cultivated a very specific persona where everything is done for laughs, he can just… make that kind of statement like it’s normal. Hiding in plain sight. 

More meta things from this chapter that flew over my head 15 years ago:

First, way before the movie scenes, Richie has to make sure no one is looking before comforting Bill because they are out in public on the street and he assumes that other people would think he’s gay for… patting his friend on the back to try to get him to stop crying. Compare this to his easy physicality with Eddie down in The Barrens - physicality that is much more likely to be interpreted as flirtatious if anyone saw - and it’s very obvious that Richie is hyper-vigilant about being seen, publicly, as anything but straight. In The Barrens, it doesn’t matter - they tell Officer Nell mere pages before this that The Barrens is where they can all be themselves. Richie is himself in The Barrens, when he’s pinching Eddie’s cheek and calling him cute. Out on the street, he can’t even do something as normal and expected as comforting his crying friend without worrying about the potential ramifications of it. 

Second, when Richie meets up with Bev and reflects on how pretty she is, he gets all flustered and shit. And although nothing here involves Eddie, we do get this iconic line and perfect insight into Richie’s behavior:

‘Richie, as he usually did in such moments of confusion, took refuge in absurdity.’

His immediate, instinctual response to this confusing, uncomfortable newfound attraction to Beverly is to… throw himself on the ground and comically praise her, do Voices, and generally act like an idiot. Who does he act this way around the most? You guessed it! Eddie Kaspbrak!

It’s also in this chapter that we’re introduced to Richie’s thoughts on the teenage werewolf:

‘The Teenage Werewolf was somehow scarier, though … perhaps because he also seemed a little sad. What had happened wasn’t his own fault. There was this hypnotist who had fucked him up, but the only reason he’d been able to was that the kid who turned into the werewolf was full of anger and bad feelings.’

At first it’s like, aw, that’s cute, Richie’s showing empathy. But later in the same chapter, when IT appears as the werewolf with Richie’s name stitched into the jacket, it hits different - Riche wasn’t just showing empathy, he was relating to the werewolf’s struggle with ‘bad feelings’ and the sadness of him being a monster through no fault of his own. 

Also in this chapter, there’s a small bit where Richie is lost in thought about Eddie’s trauma with the leper, and when he snaps out of it and talks to Ben, Ben is lost in thought about Bev’s trauma (the bruise on her cheek). Oh the parallels!

Anyway, this chapter functions the same way for Richie as The Dam in the Barrens does for Eddie - it starts out by demonstrating Richie’s discomfort with other people thinking he likes boys, moves into a series of interactions in which he flirts with Eddie and Bev, introduces the reader to his main IT manifestation, the teenage werewolf, and confirms that he relates to being a monster. Like Eddie, he feels an attachment to his ‘monster’ for reasons that are rooted in the way he sees himself. The subtext is much more subtle for Richie and there isn’t as much of it, but it’s there.

SO LONG STORY SHORT!! The moment(s) in the book where I first put two and two together as a casual reader were the ‘school-yard crush’ moments of pigtail pulling and flirtatious teasing. That stuff is obvious. Years later, as an adult, I can see that those same chapters that pinged for me as a teen are literally OVERFLOWING with subtext.

[emmettspeakz]

Reddie prompt 🎈 After the events of chapter 2 (Eddie lives) they move in together. One day one of them is approached on the street by a clown that's promoting the new circus in town and has a mental breakdown. The other comforts. You can choose which is which, I don't mind~

Reddie prompt 🎈 After the events of chapter 2 (Eddie lives) they move in together. One day one of them is approached on the street by a clown that's promoting the new circus in town and has a mental breakdown. The other comforts. You can choose which is which, I don't mind~

Thanks for the prompt anon! Sorry this took so long to write~college is a bitch at the moment but I finally had a break to write. Feedback as always is really appreciated, whether it’s good or bad.

@g-ay-gatsby cuz you always want me to tag you in reddie stuff :P

Richie awoke in a cold sweat. He glanced over at his husband, shirtless, fast asleep with his face down next to him on the bed they shared. Their shiba inu lay down by the end of the bed, wagging his tiny fluffy tail back and forth at the sight of Richie standing up to get dressed. Richie grinned at the dog, a soft, tired grin and pat his fluffy head in greeting. He heard loud shouts and calls from outside their apartment window, and almost cursed out loud at them to quiet down less they wake up his beautiful sleeping husband. 

“Fucking bastards.” He grumbled. 

“Who you calling bastard?” Eddie mumbled into his pillow.

Richie moved a piece of hair from his husband’s face and forced himself to smile. 

“It’s nothing, Eds. Go back to sleep, baby.”

“It’s that stupid new advertisement across the street right Rich?”

Rich clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to admit what he felt deep down inside him, that the circus was the last thing he wanted to come across on the way to work. 

“It’s nothing Eds.” Richie repeated, more sternly this time, suggesting he didn’t want to talk about it, even to Eddie. 

Eddie dropped the subject, picking up his head from his pillow, his eyes still droopy from sleep. 

“Why don’t we go downtown today?” Eddie suggested, getting slowly to his feet. “It’ll get us away for a while.”

Richie smiled down at his husband, dipping down and kissing the top of his head. 

“Good idea, spaghetti man.”

“Be more original with your pet names, sweetie.” Eddie teased, slipping an arm into a white button up shirt. 

“Shut up, Edward.”

“Bite me, Trashmouth.”

“Maybe I will!”

Richie and Eddie locked eyes and they grinned at each other before Eddie removed himself from the trance, smacking his husband on the thigh with the back of his hand.

“C’mon, get dressed and we’ll get going.” 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Richie fake groaned, pulling blue jeans over his gray boxers.

When they were all dressed and ready to go, they walked out the front door, holding each other’s hands unapologetically. 

They got pretty close to where their car was parked in the apartment complex’s parking lot before they were bombarded by a young man in full clown makeup. He was holding a red balloon in one hand and a poster in the other. He came up to them rather quickly, spouting his sales pitch for the new circus opening across the street from their apartment complex. 

“Hello there sirs! Have you heard about the new circus opening up behind you? We know it’ll be an awesome, fun time! We got balloons, clowns, acrobats of all kinds. Why not try going to a show?” The man thrusted the poster into Richie and Eddie’s faces. 

Richie immediately froze in place at the sight of the red balloon the man was holding. Everything he’d seen in Derry, all the comments about his sexuality, the stupid fucking clown that had terrorized his childhood, all the memories flooded over him at once and he could barely breathe. His hands went to his ears to drown out any and all noise, but the familiar creepy laugh of Pennywise the dancing clown filled them nonetheless.

 “Wanna play truth or dare?”

He heard those same words from his last encounter with Pennywise ring in his ears, causing panic to rise within him. His throat felt deathly dry, as if he was lost in a desert without any sign of water. He felt himself start to shake before everything started to phase in and out of focus. He wasn’t sure if he needed to throw up or scream. 

He was rooted to the spot, thinking of nothing else besides the trauma he’d suffered as a kid and as an adult: how he’d almost lost Eddie to the clown, how his friends had fixed up Ben after he’d been slashed by the clown, how they’d lost Stan in the sewers and he was almost devoured by the clown, the image of Bill’s little brother Georgie’s raincoat the only thing Bill had of him because of that damn clown.

And then there was Henry fucking Bowers...

It was all too much for him. Richie couldn’t even go into basements or certain kinds of bathrooms without freaking out, and now there was a guy reminding him of the exact thing that he’d been afraid of since middle school. It wasn’t just the threat of dying from a demon fucking clown. It was the kids bullying him about him being a fl*mer, dressing up as the clown just to torment him and call him the f word. It was everything that had to do with the stupid fucking clown. It’d terrorized his friends, and he’d almost lost two of them to that stupid fucking clown. 

He didn’t even register Eddie telling off the guy until he realized he was back sitting on their shared bed. He buried his face in his hands, crying softly, every once in a while those cries turning into body-rocking sobs that left him shaking with emotion. Eddie just held him and rubbed his back softly, waiting for an opportunity to reassure him verbally, as right now Richie was too wracked with sobs to be able to hear anything Eddie could say to him. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie whispered after a long time of Richie just crying and shaking. “The clown is gone, Rich. We killed the fucker. I’m here, Stan’s still here, all the losers are still here. I saved you and you saved me back. We’re here together. We fucking survived it all, Richie. I told you I loved you that day. Think of that instead. Do you hear me? I love you. I’m here, babe.”

Richie kept crying, wiping at the snot and tears spilling down his face. Though he brightened slightly when Eddie spoke, he still felt an overwhelming amount of fear wash over him like a wave pool, each wave worse than the last. He just kept shaking and muttering to himself and crying on and off, unable to shake the amount of panic that filled his very being. 

Eddie held him tighter, gripping his shoulders to try and steady him as his body shook violently along with his sobs. Richie just couldn’t get himself together. He just kept thinking about how he’d almost lost Eddie, how he’d lived in fear of the demon clown and being outed his entire life, and even now that he was happy and with the love of his life, he couldn’t forget that awful part of his life that he tried so hard to bury deep, deep, deep down within himself and never drag back out. But the man dressed as a clown outside across from their home had managed to destroy his well-kept wall in one fell swoop, leaving Richie a giant vulnerable mess. 

“It’s okay, Rich. Hey, hey, look at me.” Eddie picked up his husband’s face in his hands and forced him to look him in the eye, despite the tears pouring from his eyes. 

“We’re safe now baby. I’m okay. I’m here now. I saved you and you saved me, remember? We got together that day. Remember that? Come on baby, think.” Eddie pulled a tissue box from his night stand by their bed and offered it to Richie.

Richie sniffled, taking a tissue from Eddie to wipe his tear-soaked face. 

“Best day of my life.” Richie replied, his voice soft but somehow still confident.

“There ya go.” Eddie told him, holding him close toward himself and squeezing him tight. “What did you say to me?”

Richie forced himself to laugh, even though his chest felt like an dry, empty cavern from crying. He coughed hard and loud but made himself chuckle again. Eddie fetched him a glass of water, making sure not to leave his husband’s side for too long as he knew that right now Richie needed his comfort more than anything. 

“I didn’t even say anything. I was so relieved that you were...that you were---” Richie’s voice shook and he started crying again. 

“No no no, baby, Richie, come on. What did you do?”

“I kissed you so hard.” Richie sobbed. “I kissed you as soon as we got out of Neibolt house because I was so happy that we had survived and I wanted to ask you to marry me right then and there but I didn’t. I was too scared you were gonna hate me ‘cause I just fucking kissed you out of literally nowhere.”

Eddie smiled so wide he felt tears begin to form in his own eyes. 

“Yeah, I had to do that for you, ya coward.” Eddie teased lightly. Richie shoved him lightly in return. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You get credit for proposing before me for the rest of our marriage okay? Stop reminding me of the one win I missed out on!”

Eddie was relieved to hear Richie’s sass return to his voice, even if it was quiet and more reserved than usual. 

“Hey, wanna stay in bed and watch netflix or maybe I can read to you from that book?”

“You mean Brokeback Mountain? That’s pretty gay of you Eds.”

“We’re literally married, Rich. We’re two married gay men.”

“I know. I just--I just had to get you to say it.”

Richie looked at the ground again, and Eddie worried Richie was getting lost in his triggering thoughts again. He moved to cup his husband’s face with his hands holding his cheeks tightly in order to place a kiss on Richie’s soft lips. 

Even after all these years, Richie was still surprised to get kisses from Eddie. When he did though, they were always full of passion and genuine love. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t burst into tears every time he got to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak. Afterall, he’d been his childhood crush for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like him, someone who would take care of him when his mental health got the better of him.

“Thanks for always taking care of me Eddie,” Richie told him after a moment of silence between them. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Eddie just smiled at him.

“You helped me first with my asthma. I should be thanking you.”

It was Richie who kissed Eddie then. The kiss turned into a more passionate but sweet one, Eddie holding Richie’s face in his hands again, refusing to let him go. Richie doing the same, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and holding him close enough so that their heartbeats thumped on top of each other. 

“I love you Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie declared when they finally pulled apart for air.

“I love you too, Richie Tozier.”

[moonlightmadnessreviews]

It Chapter 2, and The Importance of Patience in Modern Horror Cinema

“For 27 years, I’ve dreamt of you. I’ve craved you. I’ve missed you!” We saw the release of the final trailer for IT Chapter 2 last week, and Pennywise’s words really struck a chord with me. This is a story about a monster who sleeps for 27 years, reappears amidst a great tragedy in the town of Derry, Maine and brutally feeds on the town’s children. They then return to the sewers to sleep, hungry as they might be, satisfied knowing that in another 27 years there will be a new batch of children to devour. Until they come in contact with The Loser’s Club, there is no sense of urgency for them, there is no rush. There is only patience. Much like the patience film making siblings Andres and Barbara Muschietti have displayed putting what is considered to be one of Stephen King’s most ambitious works onto the big screen. It’s that patience that helped IT Chapter 1 and will likely help the upcoming sequel.

Many of us grew up watching the original IT miniseries, released on TV in 1990. That miniseries was broken up into two parts in which we followed the Loser’s Club through their encounters with Pennywise The Dancing Clown (Tim Curry) as children, and their eventual return to Derry, Maine as adults. It is interesting to note that the series was split into two parts for the sake of time, not to separate the story of them as children and the one taking place 27 years later. After all, each part ran for about 2 hours with commercial time. This format stuck fairly close to Stephen King’s novel IT, released in 1986. At the time, this was King’s longest and most ambitious work and the constant bouncing between time periods was part of that. On the page, it was fairly easy to follow these time jumps and it certainly flowed nicely, keeping you engaged through out. However, when put on the screen, the story of the adult Losers Club paled in comparison to that of their childhood experiences.

IT 2017 spent much of its time in gestation, awaiting the day it would be unleashed upon audiences. In fact, the beginning stages of the production date back as far as 2009. Originally, the film was to be directed by Cary Fukunaga of True Detective fame, and would star Will Poulter (And his god damn eye brows, here we go again), of this year’s Midsommar, as the titular boogie man. The script underwent a number of rewrites as the director wished to update the story and inject some bits of his own childhood. The studio was pushing for a more conventional horror movie while Fukunaga wanted to venture out of the box of horror and dip into much of the same art horror style that was on display in season 1 of True Detective. Eventually, both Fukunaga and Poulter would leave the project.

Enter the film making duo of Andres and Barabara Muschietti. The siblings were known for their 2013 effort Mama, with Andres, or Andy, acting as director and writer and his sister Barbara sitting in the producer’s chair. After taking over for Fukunaga and rewriting his script, they set about making sure the studio was clear that this would once again be a two part project. Fukunaga had floated the idea initially, as it would allow ample time to dive into each character’s backstory and traumas, while also separating the time lines. With this laid out, the Muschietti’s were on a mission to find their Loser’s Club and Pennywise. Bill Skarsgård would take over for Poulter, and the Losers Club would be rounded out by Jaden Martell (Bill Denbrough), Finn Wolfhard (Richie Tozier), Jack Dylan Grazer (Eddie Kaspbrak), Chosen Jacobs (Mike Hanlon), Jeremy Ray Taylor (Ben Hanscom), Sofia Lillis (Beverley Marsh), and finally Wyatt Oleff (Stan Uris).

With such a large ensemble cast of child actors, the Muschiettis knew they would need to work on building a team dynamic, allowing the actors time to build actual friendships and camaraderie that would come across on screen as genuinely as possible. As shown during special features on the Blu-Ray and digital release, the Loser’s Club took part in a summer camp of sorts, getting to know one another while also getting into the mindset of 1980s children. The time spent laying the ground work helped to create a dynamic between the Losers that is certainly one of the film’s highlights, harkening back to movies like Stand By Me and The Goonies, as well as Netflix’s Stranger Things, which had premiered in the summer of 2016. We were seeing friends rallying together on screen because most of the cast was, and still are, friends off screen as well.

The efforts of all involved made for one of the biggest horror releases of 2017! Whether facing down bully Henry Bowers (Nicholas Hamilton) or Skarsgård as Pennywise (An absolute standout performance, honoring Curry’s performance while making the character very much his own, displaying great physicality and commitment to the role), the Loser’s Club managed to make us root for them every step of the way. Jaden Martell in particular elicited a heart wrenching performance in his portrayal of grief and guilt over the death of his brother Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott). The Muschiettis also showed patience and restraint with the marketing for their movie. They could have drowned us in images of Pennywise throughout the entire trailer, and though his image was posted everywhere by fans in the months leading up to the release, we got just enough to leave us wanting more. This isn’t always the case with big studio movies, which helps IT Chapter 1 in standing out.

Too often these days, we see a studio rush through their process to set up a sequel, or an extended universe, for a quick payoff. The DC Extended Univeres and Universal Studios’ Dark Universe are prime examples of putting the cart before the horse, trying to establish a shared universe the likes of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. They become too preoccupied with catching up that they forget to simply make good movies, ones that fans would care to see again and ones that would build to the exciting crossovers fans really love. Where Marvel’s MCU has been so successful is building a universe since 2008 with individual films on our main hero’s and then culminating in big cross over events, much like the way Chapter 1 spent time to get us excited for the return of these characters in Chapter 2.

All of these elements have now laid the groundwork for IT Chapter 2, hitting theaters September 6th*. By reworking the way the story is told, Chapter 1 handling the children in the 1980s and Chapter 2 showing them as adults in 2016, we were given enough time to care about the film’s large ensemble cast. We are invested in their story and we are even, at times, rooting for Pennywise. The patience and care with which this retelling has been handled is proof positive that even a big budget studio horror movie can work its pacing to leave us hungry for more. I’m just glad we didn’t have to wait 27 years to see the sequel come to light.

*The adult Loser’s Club will be portrayed by James Macavoy (Bill), Jessica Chastain (Bev), Bill Hader (Richie), James Ransone (Eddie), Isaiah Mustafa (Mike), Jay Ryan (Ben), and Andy Bean (Stan). Bill Skarsgård will reprise his role as Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

[opheliawillowbrook]

Let the Record Show

A/N: So as stated, this fic has been written to provide closure to the infamous arc brought about in Nightwing #93 in which (if you are unaware-so spoilers!) Nightwing is raped by Tarantula (Catalina) after the death of Blockbuster because, (if you think like Devin Grayson) why the fuck not, right? Thankfully for those of you reading this, I don't. But in any case, my friend (Embrlee Frith) and I have discussed this arc in-depth and thought it (aside from most untactful) very poorly handled. Which is a shame since there really were some good bones to discuss, not just about rape, but also male rape victims in our society and the aftermath that all victims of sexual assault and rape survivors go through. However, as most of you are probably aware, DC and Devin Grayson sorta dropped that ball and refused to pic it back up. Though, to be fair, Ms. Grayson, being, well-Ms. Grayson, did try and clarify the scene by referring to it as "non-consensual sex" which is probably the most accurate example of an oxymoron one can bring to fruition, but that's a subject for another time. But given the sort of "mishandling" of the canon, I was commissioned by our lovely Ms. Frith to cover this subject matter and try and bring some closure to this event for both the reader and the character.

I'd also like to apologize to anyone offended by my words of Ms. Grayson. I'm clearly not a fan of her work (as I'm sure I've made it very clear) I just think as a writer this subject matter deserved far more respect than it got and this is my attempt at providing that.

I Also recently re-edited this story and hope the changes help make it feel finished. Please let me know what you think :) I also found a great song to go along with this fic. It's called "They're Not Horses, They're Dead Unicorns" by Bayside. So if you like a little music with you reading, you might enjoy it!

So if you're still reading this, I'd like to thank you. Let me know what you think and let's see if we can put this ghost to rest now, shall we?

As Always, With Love

-Ophelia

“She was a termite, Eating away at my roots. I was just a lost soul, who needed a home, I was filling, a void, with you.” --Bayside

He sat in a dark corner of the crowded bar at a small table by the foggy window. This was far from how he'd normally spend an evening, but tonight was far from a normal night. It had begun to rain over Gotham, the air thick with its dewy metallic scent. It almost smelled like blood—like her . He looked down at his half empty beer bottle, a little distressed that he was three drinks in, and the edge still wasn't off.

Drinking was always something he'd avoided, something he looked at as unnecessary and otiose, but in the wake of the past year, he'd built something of a tolerance to it. It was all he could do to cope at times. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic; he mostly only had a drink or two, but he still wasn't proud of the fact it was something he required now, that it was the only thing that came close to washing away that bitter taste.

It had been a year since he'd lost everything he'd worked so hard for. A year since he'd lost friends, his city, and the thousands of innocent lives within it. But worst of all, he'd lost a significant piece of himself, and he blamed himself for all of it. All because of one night, one choice and her.

The thought of her was nearly enough to make him sick as he downed a sip of beer to try and flush her foul taste from his mouth. However, the cheap beer and whisky was not enough to drown out the bitterness—that rotten taste he could just never get off his tongue. It was like he'd unknowingly bitten into a spoiled piece of fruit, only to find its sweetness was replaced with decay and maggots. He could still feel the invasive parasites crawl beneath his skin every now and then. At just the right moment, with just the right touch, or the right set of words. The feeling always left him feeling dirty, and no matter how hard he scrubbed or scratched, her touch would never wash off him. He'd wear her mark for the rest of his life.

What was worse was that he'd never told anyone about what had happened to him; he himself had a hard time believing its validity. In his mind, he tried to tell himself that what he thought happened was nothing of the sort. That the trauma of watching a man die was the reason for his physical and mental discord. Or at least that's what she'd told him.

Still, it never mattered how many times he tried to talk himself down, or how many times he tried to tell himself that what happened, hadn't happened at all. He could still never get that bloody taste out his mouth. He could even taste it on the air.

"I would have never pegged you as the drinking alone type," he heard a familiar voice say.

He looked up to find a single blue eye staring down at him, her lily-white hair draped around her black leather jacket.

"Rose," he said in a genuine shock, "what are you doing here? Why aren't you with the Titans ?"

"Yeah, about that," she said, taking a seat next to him, "that wasn't exactly hooking up. So I'm currently between jobs right now."

"Okay," Dick replied perplexed, "then what are you doing here?" he asked, entertaining some guilt that she'd gone out on her own. He was after all her mentor.

She shrugged somberly. "Well, I just found out that the closest thing I had to a best friend died…"

"Eddie…" he said ruefully, recalling that Tim recounted the incident, but he hadn't mentioned that Rose left the team. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a weak smile and stole a sip of his beer. "Don't be. Eddie died a hero, and in my book, he couldn't have gone out like more of a badass." She paused a moment, clearly remembering her friend. If anything, she was sad for herself, but refused to admit it. A lot like him.

"But with that being said," she added, "I'm here to drink my feelings and have a meaningless hook-up… Care to help a girl out, Grayson?"

She smiled at him coyly. He'd like to have thought she was joking, but he knew she wasn't. If Rose Wilson was anything, she was brutally honest, and he respected that.

"I can help you with the first half of your missions of self-destruction, but you're on your own with the latter."

"Eh, it was worth a shot," she shrugged, "but it's your loss."

"Somehow I'll live."

Sadly enough, part of him wanted to take her up on her offer. The idea of losing himself in another for a few hours was a tempting way to momentarily ease him of his current torment. However, he knew once the sheets were dirtied and the sweat was dried, he'd be right back where he began. Rose was also a little too young for him, and he didn't feel like adding statutory to his already stained morality. Though it seemed to be the least of her worries. But if nothing else, she'd make good company for his misery.

He ordered her a drink, mostly because he knew that if he didn't, she'd find someone else who would. And he'd have much rather been the man feeding her alcohol than one of the many seedy low-lives who'd jump at the chance to hinder the autonomy of a pretty 17-year-old girl. Not that Dick worried about Rose's ability to take care of herself. He knew she was more than capable, but if breaking one rule prevented her from making a horrible mistake, then he didn't see the harm in it.

The two sipped their beers and talked about their losses and gains. Though somehow they felt their losses were what made them who they were.

Dick took notice at how much Rose had matured, she'd oddly grown up a lot in the past year. She was still very much the same: Hot-headed and unpredictable, but she'd begun to understand how to use those things to her advantage. Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. At least he'd done something right.

They both finished their drinks, and when Dick glanced up to the bar to get a second round, he froze.

It's never gonna stop...

Rose noticed his sudden shift, his face paused, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"You okay?"

He snapped out of it and looked at her. "I have to go."

He took out his wallet and threw a couple bills down on the table, hurrying himself to leave. But it was too late, she saw him.

She stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to fix her drink. She looked like she were dressed for a funeral, as though she were burying her third husband. Her black dress was low, showing off the prominent curves of her breasts, her lips painted red, like they were stained with his blood. But it didn't matter how pretty she looked. For beneath that low black dress and behind that lipstick smile she flashed at him, he could see just how ugly she truly was.

Suddenly it was like the world stopped turning and the ground fell from beneath his feet. He was back in that moment again, like the scar had been ripped open with a dull knife, the blade delving deep into his dignity.

It's never gonna stop...

"Dick?" He could hear Rose's voice, distant, like she were 100 miles away. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know..."

He took off, practically running out the door, pushing past the crowd of people until he was out in the pouring rain. It was as though he couldn't breathe, like his lungs had filled with a toxic smoke, smothering him in with past he just couldn't shake. He could feel the rain hitting his face, a sensation he'd once found clean and refreshing, only now it felt like an affliction, like a cancer burning into his skin. Convicting him with the sins he'd committed, and the ones committed against him.

Rose had immediately run after him, knowing something was deeply wrong.

"Dick! Dick, wait!" Rose called, her platinum hair looking grey beneath the foggy rain. "Are you okay—what happened?"

He didn't stop, he just kept moving, not sure what to say. "I just need to go home, Rose."

It was a terrible excuse, but it was the best he could come up with. Plus, what could he really say? He couldn't even admit the truth to himself, never mind a teenage girl who held him in such high standing.

"It's okay, you can tell me," she urged, but he still wouldn't stop. "It was that girl, wasn't it?"

He stopped. The rain beating down on him like it had in that very night a your ago.

"She did something to you, didn't she?"

He turned, at a loss, not even sure what to say, but before he could speak, he saw her again.

She'd stepped out of the bar, just under the overhang, looking out at him through falling sky. He stared at her for a minute, part of him wanting to show her how badly he hurt. How deeply that scar through his heart ran. But another part of him was still too afraid to even look her in the eye. For a moment he thought she'd try and approach him, but she didn't, and at first, he couldn't understand why. Then it hit him. And no, it had nothing to do with melting Wicked Witch of the West style.

Rose...

She had now locked her eyes on the woman beneath the overhang, keeping herself from the damp air.

Dick wasn't sure what would come next. Part of him wondered if Rose would, well, pull a Rose and throw a right hook across Catalina's face. Or if Catalina would say something in an attempt to dismiss the younger girl. Something he knew wouldn't go over well.

However, Rose surprised him. She turned her scowling face away from the woman in black and walked toward Dick.

"Come on," she said over the percussion of rain. "This place will let anyone in, we're better off at your place."

The whole speech was a jab at Catalina. She didn't need her mentor to tell her anything, she already knew. Like she could smell that primal fear radiating off him, or possibly even something about the way that woman looked at him. Her smile gilded with something predatory, hungry for self-satisfaction and the taste of blood on her tongue.

Rose took him by the arm and led him away, the rain still pouring down around them. It's humid smell rising from the flooded pavement beneath his feet. Dick could still feel her eyes on him, a feeling of shame ricocheting down his spine as he was whisked away by his own protégé, the old one merely watching as she did so. He'd faced murderous mad men, violent Metahumans, and bloodthirsty demons, but somehow, a simple human woman was the greatest monster he'd ever faced. A woman he could have easily overpowered, yet somehow couldn't. The thought left a deep wound in his masculinity, like he failed as a man, like maybe he'd let it happen. These poisonous thoughts were something he'd become accustomed to ever since Catalina had taken matters into her own hands.

By the time they made it back to Dick's apartment, they were both soaked to the bone. He could feel the filthy rain collecting along his jaw and dripping heavily from his chin as he unlocked the door. Rose noticed his hands were shaking and he cursed at himself as he struggled to steady them. He finally got the key into the lock and turned it, looking around before entering the safety of his home. They entered the reasonably sized studio apartment, and Dick flicked on the light. He closed the door behind them, locking the knob, deadbolt, and key chain. Rose, of course, thought it was a bit overkill, but given his reaction to the woman at the bar, she'd have done the same thing.

"She's really got you on edge," Rose said, pulling off her soggy coat. "Who is she?"

"No one."

"Well, then she's a whole lot of no one ." Rose grimaced. "I'm sensing "They're Not Horses, They're dead Unicorns," vibe?"

"Something like that…" he sighed, wiping the rain from his brow, "only in the darkest context possible."

"What do you think she wants?"

He looked up at her. He hadn't really thought of that. It had been a year since he'd seen her last, since he just walked away and never looked back. She got what she wanted, why would she come back now?

"Fuck," he huffed blankly and sat down. His mind digging up an old thought he'd once had, one he prayed wouldn't come to fruition.

Rose could see the lost look in his eyes and the disparity quaking in the space where his heart used to be. This was nothing new to her. Whatever he lost, he'd lost it before they'd met. Only now she was beginning to understand what that was. She could now see just where that jaded and cynical nature came from, exactly what cracks left him shattered. Unlike many, she was actually about to see exactly what slipped through those cracks, exactly what had been taken away from him.

"I take it whatever she did to you, you're not over it?"

He looked at her with an ill expression and ran his hand through the fringe of his damp hair. "I don't know if I'll ever be over it," he said ruefully. That was the closest he'd ever come to admitting it, to saying it aloud.

Rose looked down, that was all she needed to hear. He didn't need to say more.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

He glanced up at her and smiled at a loss, but also for the fact that she didn't laugh at him, that she didn't seem to judge him for it. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," he admitted. "Some days I can live it, then come days like this, where I can barely get my shit together."

She could understand that feeling, knowing how it felt to want to shed the scars that bind you, only you can't help but be who they've made you.

"You can talk about it if you want."

"Thanks," he said, and smiled falsely, "but talking about it is something I'm still not quite able to do." He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, like it were they that had betrayed him. "I just don't understand it completely. And honestly, I just wanna forget it ever happened."

"But your body won't let you."

He nodded painfully, almost feeling like he had to vomit. He had to change the subject. "Sorry I ruined your night."

Rose smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "No big deal, you probably saved me from making a poor life choice."

"That's probably true," he conceded with a nod.

"Yeah, seriously. Once my brain tastes alcohol it's like it's go time! Let's make some fucking mistakes! And see how quickly you can ruin the life you work so hard for..." she broke into a slight giggle. Rose was often amused with her on sense of humor.

Dick shook his head, well aware that Rose Wilson and alcohol were not meant to be in good company with each other. That girl could do a whole lot of damage and end up with one hell of a hangover. But he laughed anyway.

"But hey, now I can technically say I went home with Nightwing. I got braggin' rights now."

He shook his head at her shit-eating grin, realizing she'd probably use that to piss off daddy . It would also do little for either of their dwindling reputations, but he had bigger problems to worry about.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but I get the feeling you think she found you," Rose said. "Is she capable of that?"

Unfortunately enough, she was. She was an ex-FBI agent, after all. She probably knew exactly where he was this entire time and he never even thought to look behind him. But truth be told, he didn't want to know. It was easier if he didn't go looking for her in every shadow that haunted every corner.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she's been following you?"

He didn't want to think of that either, but he wouldn't put it past her. "Yeah, and it wouldn't be the first time."

"Jesus." Rose scowled. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"A year ago."

"So what's she doing, slinking up from Hell for some fresh air, thinking she'd just drop by, say hello?"

Dick grimaced. "I'm honestly really afraid to find out…" The look on his face hardened, consequence tying his tongue.

"Oh…" She paused a minute, thinking about how devastating that would be. To have something so heavy thrust upon you; forever tied to the person who'd already taken so much. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, and I really hate to say this, but there's no way she'd look like that if she'd dropped a fucking kid like three months ago."

Dick looked up at her. Only Rose would say something like that.

"I mean her tits would be like on the floor," she added crassly. "She could take a fucking eye out with those puppies, and I should know."

He glared at her, not sure whether to scowl or laugh. On one hand, her banter was oddly amusing, and on the other, he had a really hard time accepting humor in that moment. But maybe that was his problem.

"Rose, I know you're just trying to help, but if you could stop talking about how hot Catalina is, that would be great."

"Hey, I never said that walking gash was hot, I just said her fucking boobs could have their own gravitational pull," she corrected. "Life's not fucking fair, man," she added referring to her own humble cup size.

"Yeah, it's not," Dick accorded coldly, and he couldn't have agreed more.

His life had literally become one horrible montage of one bad thing after the next, and it all started the second she showed up. In the beginning, he actually felt guilty for feeling that way, like it was somehow unfair of him to blame her for things that came of his own volition. But with time, it simply just became part of his coping mechanism. Catalina equaled death, devastation and rape, and he just couldn't see past that. He liked to think if he'd just never met her, or if he'd just thrown her ass in jail when he had the chance, that everything would be different. Maybe nobody would have died, and that Blüdhaven would still be standing today.

What was worse, and the thing that ate at him the most, was that he'd willingly invited her into his life. He'd delivered himself like some naive lamb to slaughter because he'd actually once felt sorry for her. That's what it had always come down to. She had a shitty life, it wasn't her fault. If he had just been a better man, or a better mentor , she wouldn't have turned out like that. It didn't seem to matter that she was a grown woman and should have known better, he still made excuses for her. But now, he couldn't excuse that she was stained in his blood and the blood of others, and he couldn't do shit about it. Catalina was literally like a flesh-eating bacteria to him. A termite eating away at his body and soul.

"You've never actually confronted her, have you?" Rose asked, once again pulling him into the now.

He sighed and shook his head. "Not really—no. There was so much going on after it happened and I was still kinda in shock. She told me I wasn't thinking straight and that the trauma I'd experienced made me look at it that way. I believed her because I wanted to, but as the shock wore off and I began to see how far she'd burrowed into my life… I knew I was right."

He seethed a moment, that foul metallic taste overcoming his mouth.

"She was literally taking over my life, acting like she'd done nothing wrong—acting like she belonged with me. I couldn't take it, so I left."

"That's when you started mentoring me…" Rose said, having a rough idea of the timeline.

Dick looked up, it really was ironic. He'd been so badly burned by one protégé, and the other was the only thing keeping him from crawling out of skin.

"Yeah, you turned out fine, though."

"Yeah, because of you," Rose urged. She owed him everything. Without Dick Grayson, who knew where she'd be. "Without you, I could never be a hero."

He looked at her fondly, but he knew she didn't feel like one. He didn't feel like one either.

"Y'know," Rose began, "sometimes you gotta take your pound of flesh and just walk away."

"I'm really not one for revenge, Rose."

"I saw the way you looked at her, Dick," she said, sitting next to him, "like if you could kill her and get away with it, you would."

He didn't say anything, but that was exactly how he felt, only he knew it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix him.

He rose from the couch and walked to a drawer, he opened it and took out an old shirt, throwing it over to Rose.

"You should change out of those wet clothes. There's a laundry room downstairs if you wanna throw your stuff in the drier."

She caught the shirt and nodded. "Yeah, there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone tonight. Not with Psycho Bitch on the prowl."

He smiled. "Wanna order a pizza?"

"You paying?"

After that, the two talked about why Rose left the Titans, and why she felt she didn't really fit there. They talked about Eddie, and how Rose had asked him to leave with her. That was a little painful.

Rose asked how things with Barbara were going (they were supposed to get married, after all.) However, the answer was nowhere. Apparently Dick was having a hard time functioning in the relationship, specifically because Barbara was always so micro-focused on everything he did. From what she understood, that was nothing new. Barbara had a reputation for being a little unforgiving, especially when it came to Dick. And Rose could totally understand why he didn't feel comfortable opening up to her about what he'd been through. He wanted her to see him as strong and competent. He'd probably feared she'd think he were exaggerating, or scold him for being too trusting with Catalina in the first place. And though his fears weren't necessarily warranted, she understood why he felt that way. Nobody wants the love of their life to see them as damaged.

He apparently tried his hand at a few other relationships, but nothing really seemed to fit. Everything just seemed uncomfortable, and in some cases, much like with Barb, they just didn't have the patience for his newfound affliction. It's like everything just felt so disconnected.

His concept of touch was altered, and not the violent sort, the intimate kind. Little gestures made his stomach sink, especially if he wasn't expecting them. There were times when a woman he was deathly attracted to would lean in, and he'd pull away without a second thought. It had just become instinct. Even something as simple and comforting as a hug had become a perversion of itself. He hated how things of such simple kindness now held such rue and disdain. Things that once breathed of love and strength were now among the things he feared most. It was like the ties to his humanity were cut clean from his bones.

Dick looked at the time to find the hour was far beyond late, and he was beginning to feel it as well.

"I think I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You can take the bed."

Rose shook her head. "No, I'm good with the couch. Unless, you wanna share the bed with me," she said with a sly grin.

"No offense," Dick said, and smiled, "but I'd rather take the couch. Nice try, though."

"What can I say, I'm not a quitter."

"And I admire that, but you're off-limits."

She smirked at him, as if his comment gave her some vague validation. "Yeah, but if you change your mind, the offer's still on the table," she added mischievously. "But for real, I'll take the couch. You're much taller than me, it's not really fair to make you sleep on it."

"You're not making me, I'm offering."

"And much like my offer, I'm not taking yours."

"Okay, then," Dick said, picking up a pillow. "Oh, and Rose…"

She turned and looked over at him questionably.

"If you pull that shit you pulled on Tim, I'm gonna kick your ass."

He threw the pillow at her and she smiled, actually looking a little embarrassed.

"Um, I plead the fifth," she replied, catching it. "But, I will say that I was absolutely shit-canned that night and my crowning achievement of the evening was that I didn't die."

"Sounds like you made some fucking mistakes."

"Oh, you know it."

"Night, Rose," he said, crawling into bed.

"Night, Deathwing."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate that name."

"I know."

He didn't get much sleep that night. For even in the still silence, his brain would not shut off. His body desperately ached to shut itself off, but this primal force would not allow it. He lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling, shuffling through the thoughts and fears. Counting the losses, wondering if there was anything gained through any of it, but he just couldn't seem to find anything.

Rose was fast asleep, curled up in a ball on the couch. He took a deep breath, both out of loss and boredom.

He couldn't help but wonder where she was then, where'd she'd been. If she'd been there this entire time, and he just hadn't seen her until now. What did that say if she had?

He finally found the word that he'd been searching for. The word that best described the vile taste in his mouth. The one that brought validation to the feeling he'd been struck with when he'd noticed her dressed all in black.

"Violated," he whispered into the darkness. That's how he felt—how he'd felt ever since the moment she'd touched him. Everything she'd done after that, and even before, was a violation of his life, his morality, his body and above all—his sanity.

He wondered if she'd even seen it that way. If there was one thing wrong with Catalina, it was her moral compass, but he couldn't see that as an excuse any longer. He couldn't accept that she just didn't know any better. If anything, that made it worse.

When the morning finally came, Dick had managed to snag a few meager hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He got up, showered, and made some coffee, the smell rousing Rose from what he could only describe as a near coma.

Lucky little bitch.

She stretched out on the couch like a lazy house cat who wanted her belly rubbed, but she wasn't so lucky.

"It lives," Dick said, bringing her a cup of much-needed coffee.

She smiled tiredly, sleep fresh in her eye. "Yeah, there were a few hours there where my soul was like, I should probably go …"

"Well, then consider this coffee the rejection notice to your DNR."

She took the mug and thanked him, taking a generous sip.

"So where you off to from here?" he asked, heading back behind the counter.

She shrugged. "Not sure yet. I'll probably just wander around until something sticks."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll revise the game plan," she replied flatly. "Or maybe retire to Florida and die."

"You're kinda young for that," he laughed.

"When has age ever stopped me?"

He raised a brow. "Good point."

"What about you?" she asked. "What's next for Nightwing? "

"Breakfast." He took a carton of eggs from the fridge and a package of bacon. "You like bacon, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied, stretching again. "Anyone who doesn't can't be trusted."

"That's what I like to hear. Eggs scrambled?"

"Sure," she laughed, rising from the couch and leaning against the counter.

He noticed the shit eating grin on her face, he had to ask. "What's so funny?"

"Um, I'm wearing your T-shirt and you're making me breakfast, and the best part is, I didn't even have to blow you."

God, she has no filter, he thought. If that was her way of flirting, then at least one would always know where they stood with her.

"Well, I hate to ruin your little school girl fantasy, but would you mind beating the eggs?" he said, handing her a bowl and a whisk.

She smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off at the pass. "And do not say what I know you're about to say."

"Oh you're no fun—I'm only kidding."

He laughed. "Rose, we both know you're not kidding."

She smiled coyly. "Guilty, but what do you want from me? At least I'm fun—unlike Kara. Now that girl's got a serious problem. You should see her Pinterest page. It's fucking creepy, and so is Cassie's…"

"I don't even understand what Pinterest is."

"Keep it that way, I wish I had. Girls get uber creepy on Pinterest." Rose paused a moment. "Speaking of creepy. I can only imagine what Cuntberry's Pinterest page looks like."

"Now I'm really happy I don't know what Pinterest is."

They went on to make breakfast and eat, continuing their banter, going on about old teammates and who was where. Dick offered to clean up while Rose took a shower, not that she needed an excuse to skip out on the cleanup. When she was done, she got dressed and ready to head out.

"You need anything," he asked, walking her out of the building, "like money or—"

"Thanks," she said, cutting him off, "but I'm good. Plus with a face like this, free alcohol won't be in short supply."

"I meant like... for food and a place to stay." He scowled playfully.

"I'm fine, my mom left me some money. So I'll be good until I figure out what the hell I'm doing."

"Well, I think you should go back to school."

"I have my GED, that's fine."

"A degree would better," he replied, pushing the door open. "You're a smart girl, it would be a shame to waste that."

"That coming from the boy who dropped out of Hudson University ... and became a cop."

"Hey, I got great benefits with that job."

"Yeah, 'cause being a trust fund brat doesn't pay, right?"

He pushed her playfully, and she punched his arm. "Ah," he whimpered, forgetting how strong she was. "So violent."

"Like you can't take it," she said, stepping out on the sidewalk. "So I guess this is me…"

He shrugged looking back at her and stepped out the door. "So where you staying?"

"Shitty motel, other side of town."

"Sounds swanky."

"It's kinda charming… if you like crime scene tape, the smell of burnt cigarette ash and a gratuitous amount of prostitution."

"Sounds a lot like your childhood."

She burst out laughing as if she didn't laugh she'd cry. "Sadly true. Lord only knows the damage I've suffered at the hands of my parents."

He smiled, reaching into his pocket, and took something out. "Here," he said, holding a pre-pay phone. "My number's already programmed in it. If you need anything, let me know."

She smiled gratefully and took the device. "Does that also include—" she began mischievously, until Dick stopped her.

"3am booty calls—no."

"Damn," she sighed. "Worth a shot though. And thank you… for putting up with me and my nonsense."

"Well, your nonsense actually helped me get through a pretty tough night so… thank you."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll probably be around later."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled.

She began to turn, but stopped and turned back to him. "Y'know how you're always telling me to not be so hard on myself and that I shouldn't be dwelling on the past because I can't change it and all that shit?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, vaguely."

"You should do the same," she replied. "You can't change what happened, but you can be stronger for it."

He looked at her a moment. She may not have been without her faults, but she really did possess a heart of gold. And he couldn't have been prouder of her.

He pulled her into a hug, slightly taking the girl by surprise, but she quickly relaxed into it.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It's nice to know I did something right."

She smiled against his shoulder. "You saw the good in me when I couldn't, I thought you deserved the same," she said, then finally pulled away. "Well this has officially gotten far too sappy for my liking. I'm off like a prom dress, Grayson."

"Bye, Rose!" He waved. "And be good!"

A smug expression fixed on her face. "I can make no such promise," she droned, "but for you, I'll try…"

He watched her leave, hoping she too, would find her place in the world. It would be a shame if she didn't. When she was gone, he turned to go back upstairs when a thought crossed his mind. A thought that raised the hair on the back of his neck. He looked around, it was like he could feel her , like he knew she was there, but he just couldn't see her.

I'm just being paranoid, he thought. I need to stop thinking about this.

He grudgingly shook off the feeling and headed back into his building. When he reached his apartment, he dug into his pocket, and his heart dropped.

"Damn it," he hissed, realizing he'd misplaced his key.

It wasn't really that big of a deal, he was more than capable of breaking into his own apartment. He just didn't really feel like doing it. He looked around, and noticed an old bobby pin lying on the floor, not far from where he stood.

"Perfect."

He picked up the pin and bent it back, he'd have the lock picked in no time. He placed his hand on the knob and inserted the pin, but before he could go to work on the lock, he realized the door was unlocked.

He froze. "No, it can't be…"

He turned the knob with an unsteady hand and slowly pushed the door open. He peeked his head in, looking around to see if anyone was there. He finally found the nerve to step inside. Part of him actually contemplating calling Rose and asking her to come back.

Fucking man up, Grayson , he thought, silently scolding himself, especially since a year prior this would have been nothing to him.

He looked around, nothing seemed to have been touched or out of place, everything was just the way he'd left it… except for one thing.

His eyes fell on his pillow; there was something lying there, something that just didn't belong. He approached his bed, slowly, readying himself for anything that came his way in that moment. Deep down, he hoped he was just over-exaggerating, that maybe Rose had left it there for him. But any hope of that was dashed when he peered down at the envelope and saw her handwriting, scratched across the white paper in red.

Mi Amor, it read as he picked it up, a vile mix of anger, fear, disgust and bitterness pressing into his flesh as he held it.

She was here…

His knees buckled and he collapsed, too overcome by the thought that she'd been in his home. That she could, and did, actually take that security away from him. How could she? Did she actually think this tactic was romantic? Or was this simply just a power play? How long had she been waiting for him to leave? She had to have been watching him.

He felt sick and threw the letter down, scrambling for the waste basket, his body violently purging the contents of his stomach. He dry heaved a few times, his breath tight, his heart pounding in his throat. His face was hot, everything was hot.

He tried to focus, and pull himself out his current state of duress. "Think of something else…"

But he couldn't. And the truth was, that was what she wanted. She didn't want any other thought to cross his mind, she wanted that space for herself. She wanted to consume him.

He sat there a while, forgetting about time, his mind just completely racing until it finally grew numb. Everything went numb.

He resented it—feeling like a victim, but he was one, and he hated her for it. He hated how weak he'd become and how easily he crumbled at the mere thought of her. He hated that she'd infiltrated him and festered in his mind. That she was the source of such rotten memories, each one decaying as he slept, the infection spreading through his consciousness and destroying his sanity cell by cell.

He looked down at his hands, flashing back to an image that had burned itself in his mind, one that made him recoil. He could see her face through the billowing shadows and the silver flecks of rain, her eyes cast down on him. Through the still frames, his quaking hand reached up to stop her, but failed to do so, his objection falling on not a deaf ear, but an ignorant one. He felt empty, like he'd died, his heart ceasing to beat, but somehow, left watching from his empty shell. Like a cage with a dead bird inside.

Now, in that very hand, he held the letter, nearly forgetting it was there. He didn't want to open it, he didn't care what she had to say, or how she felt, or how fucking crazy she was. None of that mattered, she'd already taken too much. She could kill him for all he cared, at least then it would be over.

He pulled himself together and tore the envelope open. He took out the piece of fine paper, a faint scent hitting him like a ghost he was far too familiar with. It was her perfume, an odious blend of mahogany and teakwood. It was slightly musky and wreaked of her cruel brand of femininity. The smell was enough to force his flesh to crawl, his hand aching as his eyes flashed with the loathsome image of her shadow in the rain.

He took a heavy breath and unfolded the note, the same red ink staining the purity of the pale page, his stony blue eyes growing grey as the storm rolled in.

To my dearest Amor, Mi Tesoro,

(And if that wasn't enough to induce vomiting...)

It's been far too long, I know. My time away from you has been nothing but agonizing. I tried—I really did—to stay away like you asked of me, but… I just couldn't. And to be honest, if I could find a way to tie you to me so that you'd never leave me again—I would. No one could ever love you the way I do, or as much as I do, Mi Amor.

As for the last time we saw each other, I forgive you. I know you were in a dark place then, and I'm hoping you'll let me help to ease that pain. I would die for you, I hope you know that.

I'm sorry to contact you like this, but I cannot stand the thought of you rejecting me in person—not again. I want to start over with you, I want things to be different between us. Please meet me tonight at the bar. After seeing you last night, I can't wait any longer. I don't know what I'll do if you don't show… Please just give me this one thing.

If for whatever reason you decide not to show, just know I love you with my dying breath, and know I always will…

Todo Mi Amor, Catalina

Her words read like sugar laced with cyanide, delusional and so far removed from the suffering she'd caused. Like she'd come back to rip what was left from his half-empty chest. The letter still hung in his hands, the red ink somehow disturbing to him. Granted, the whole gesture was disturbing to him. She'd violated his privacy, his home, his body, and written down every word of it as though it were love. And maybe it was-the deadly kind .

He looked again at that last line, those deathly sweet words bring him back to one moment.

It's never gonna stop…

And, indeed, it was never going to stop.

He buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes, trapped in grief. He just didn't know what to do. He tried running off, he tried sending her away. He'd literally had her locked up and thrown away the key, and still, she somehow managed to slither her way out of that. What could he do now?

He finally removed himself from the floor and made sure every window and door was locked up tight. He immediately ripped off all his clothes and took another shower in a feverish, angry fashion, the water so hot it nearly blistered his skin, and remained that way until it finally ran numbingly cold. But he still felt dirty.

He got out of the shower and looked at his worn face in the mirror. He felt as though he'd aged about a thousand years, yet he was trapped in the body of a twenty-something year-old man. A shell of who he used to be. That foul taste still sour in his mouth, mixing with the sick taste of bile. If only she were like old gum to him, momentarily sweet, but tasteless, something he could spit out and forget. He did his best to brush away the putrid flavor, but like so many nights he'd endured, he just couldn't rid himself of her aftertaste.

He didn't bother getting dressed, he just crawled into bed and lay there, wishing he could sleep, but such a mercy was not granted to him. As the hours passed, he thought about the yesterdays: The long sleepless nights, the following days after Blockbuster's death and what came of it. Each frame passed by him like a fog, like ghosts without names, aimlessly moving through him. Their cold hands removing pieces of him and burying them beneath wilting flowers where they'd lie forgotten, rotting away into nothing.

After a few hours of silently wasting away, he looked at the time. It was a little after 5pm. He was hungry, but he didn't really care, mostly because it didn't matter what he ate, he'd still taste her.

His phone rang, startling him. He missed the days when he wasn't so jumpy. Now if someone so much as touched him, his skin would crawl. He didn't want to bother getting it, but knew if he didn't, it might raise some concerns on the other end. He just hoped it wasn't anything important. Or better yet, he hoped it wasn't her.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he heard Rose say, "whatcha up to?"

Lying in bed contemplating killing myself. "Nothing, thinking about making dinner. You?"

"Eating dinner, and binge-watching Dexter. "

"That sounds… like a weird combo…"

"Yeah, this show makes me hungry, as do most things, really."

Dick shook his head. She really did take after her uncle Wade.

"So did you just call to tell me about how watching a serial killer dismember other serial killers makes you wanna polish off a second plate of ribs, or did you actually need something?"

She giggled a moment, but then got back to the matter at hand. "No, I was calling to see how you were. Y'know, that whole song and dance…"

He smiled vaguely, but felt guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I'm fine, Rose. You don't need to worry about me," You have enough to worry about…

"You sound a little…" She paused, trying to find a delicate way to put it. "Y'know, like you're thinking of going down the street instead of across it." Well… delicate for her.

He sighed. "It's not like that."

It kind of was.

"Anything I missed?"

He looked down at the letter. "Nope, just still a little shaken from last night, that's all."

"Y'know, if you want me to, I can come over…"

Part of him really wanted the company, but the other part of him didn't want to drag her in any deeper than she was. "I'm fine, Rose. I'm still trying to figure shit out."

"I know," she replied. "I just know how hard it is when the very thing that emptied you is out there and you know it."

She may have been young, but she knew a lot about betrayal, abuse, and heartbreak. Though in Dick's case, heartbreak wasn't at all the right term. It was more like having his heart cut out.

"Do you think if I confronted her," Dick asked cautiously, "it would be a bad idea?"

There was a pause from Rose's end, and he could hear her breath hitch slightly. "No," she finally began, "I think if that's what you need to do, then you should do it." There was conviction in her voice. She understood all too well. "But Dick…"

"Yeah."

"If you do, just know that it will probably end badly. You never really know what you're capable of when someone who's hurt you that deeply is standing right there in front of you… You might not even know what she's capable of."

She wasn't wrong. Dick could think of one particular moment where he'd come dangerously close to bludgeoning Catalina to death. His outburst frightened him. He'd never before been that angry or volatile, and the fact was, in that moment, he wanted kill her.

Maybe I shouldn't go…

"But I understand that maybe you need to face her, let her see what she did to you. Let her know what will happen if she ever tries to do that to you again…"

He took a deep breath, he'd never really gotten the closure he needed. He was too wrapped up in everything else. Not to mention, part of him was still in denial, trying forget it ever happened. But it didn't matter how many times he told himself it was a simple "misunderstanding," or how many times he tried to chalk it up to guilt, it still happened, and it happened to him.

"So what do you have on the agenda tonight?"

He could hear Rose click her tongue, and she replied, "I was gonna polish off a third plate of ribs," she joked, "but if you have a suggestion, I might be down…"

"I was thinking of getting a drink… "

A few more hours had passed. Dick had gotten dressed and finally left his apartment, which took more effort than he liked to admit. However, it helped to know that he wasn't going into this situation blindly or alone.

The rain from the night before had dissipated, the air cool as the wind blew over his shoulder. The street was unusually quiet for once. It was peaceful, but unnerving, much like the past year. Hopefully that meant something—something good.

Each step took a little more persuasion than the last, each muscle recalling the touch of her cold hands, the stink of the rain and emptiness that followed all of it. The only thing that drove him was the notion that this might lead to the end. That whatever followed tonight was for the better. He just hoped, silently prayed it was true.

He finally approached the bar, and that uncomfortable feeling grew tighter in chest. It reminded him of how he felt after he'd lost his parents. The loss and uncertainty colliding together like the harsh winds and rains of a hurricane, leaving a lifetime of devastation in its wake.

He paused when he got to the door. Part of him wanted to turn away and just forget about the whole thing. However, he wasn't sure what would happen in the fallout if he did. He took another deep breath, and pulled the door open. The bar wasn't overly crowded, unlike the night before. The table by the window was open, and he sat himself down like he'd never left. He looked around, trying to get a better sense of his surroundings. Rose was already sitting in the back corner, polishing off what looked like a Mai Ti, the poor guy next to her probably striking out. She glanced over at Dick with a sly grin, and bit into the cherry left in the boozy remnants of her drink.

Yeah, the poor bastard's not getting very far with her.

Dick looked around. Catalina was nowhere to be found, and part of him hoped it would stay that way. But he knew he wouldn't be so lucky, she'd show eventually, and if she didn't, he didn't even want know what would happen then.

A period of ten, then twenty minutes went by. Rose was already finishing her second drink and chewing through her second guy, while Dick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer. He heard the door open and he looked up, a cold wash of fear running straight through his veins. She looked over at him and smiled, disturbingly, as if nothing were amiss. Like she couldn't even see that he was practically crawling out of his skin.

She went straight to the bar, happily flirting with the bartender who remembered her. He fixed her a glass of red wine and poured a few fingers of whisky. The whole time Dick glared at her, noticing her lip color was the same, her frame now covered in a form fitted black coat. He heard his phone vibrate, and quickly checked it.

Rose: Something tells me Tits has your whole funeral planned out on Pinterest.

He shook his head and replied: Seriously, she looks like she's dressed for the occasion too!

"What's so funny?" he heard, and looked up. There she was.

She set down her wine and pulled out her chair, placing the whisky in front of Dick.

"I thought you could use this," she said, pulling off her coat and sitting down.

"I think I'm good," Dick replied, pushing it away. "I remember the last time I accepted a drink from you."

She was still wearing black, this dress being a little different from the last, but cut just as low and shamefully short. Once again, she looked like some rich trophy wife burying the husband she killed.

"So you do blame me for that ?"

"You got me shit-faced and tried to make me marry you," Dick scowled, "how is that not your fault?"

Catalina smiled as if nothing were wrong. "I didn't come here to argue, Mi Amor, I—"

"DON'T, call me that ," Dick snapped angrily.

She glared at him, nearly speechless. "I've always called you that—"

"Well, I don't want you to," Dick growled. "I never did."

"Like I said," Catalina continued cautiously, "I didn't come here to argue, I came here to talk."

"You have five minutes and that's all you're getting from me."

She lifted her wine and fraughtly sipped it. "So I see you're still upset with me."

"You could call it that, yeah."

"I thought giving you time would help, I guess I was wrong." She peered down at the drink she'd bought him, still untouched. "You're really not gonna drink that?"

"No," Dick replied coldly, "I don't want anything from you."

She looked back at him, insulted. "I didn't know what I was doing then, okay? I was just as lost as you were."

"Really, because it felt like you were leading the way. Leading me right off a damn cliff."

"Because you let me," she asserted. "You did the moment you got out of my way."

His stare hardened, and for a moment, he almost saw red. "You bitch," he hissed. "You still want me to believe that it was my fault . You still want me to feel guilty for what you did."

"I did what needed to be done." She lifted her glass again. "I did what you couldn't."

"Because it was wrong. "

"Sometimes a little wrong can serve a great right." She smiled at him, like she didn't feel anything. "I know you have a hard time seeing that, it's why I did what I did. So you didn't have to."

"So what, you want me to thank you?" Dick asked bitterly. "That's what you want, isn't it? Because if I thank you, then I own it, right?"

"No," she replied with a chill, and placed her glass on the table. "I wanna know it was worth it."

"I've given you enough, I'm not giving you that too."

"You really believe that?" she asked, wounded. "You haven't given me nearly what I've given you."

Dick laughed patronizingly. "You're a liar. The only thing you have ever done is take, Catalina. And I don't know what else you want from me, but I have nothing left for you to take."

Her face softened, but he wasn't sure why. "I don't know what you mean… but heartbreak can bring out the ugliness in all of us."

He thought he was going to lose it.

"Heartbreak?" he questioned. "Fucking heartbreak!"

"Keep your voice down, people can hear yo—"

"No, Cat," he declared, leering at her, "you didn't break my heart, you ATE it. That way I could never get it back!"

She grimaced. "I don't understand where this is coming from, Mi Amor. I would never intentionally hurt you like tha—"

His hand fell on the table with a slamming percussion. "Then why did you fucking rape me, Cat?" Dick hissed, so that only Catalina could hear him.

Her brow creased as she leaned in. "What the hell…" She was speechless, a little taken back. "What are you even talking about? I would never do such a thing to you..."

"The rooftop, Cat! What, you don't remember? Was me telling you not to touch me just a minor inconvenient detail to you?"

"We went over this," she reasoned, hushed, "you were in shock, you didn't know what you were saying—"

"Then why the hell would you think it'd be a good idea to fuck me then?"

"There is no need to be vulgar. I—"

"Vulgar," Dick laughed. "I'm sorry my choice of words is making you uncomfortable—I mean you raped me, so I guess I owe you some sense of decency, right?"

"Stop saying that—it didn't happen like that."

"Yes, it did," he insisted. "You fucking raped me and you do it every time you sit there and act as if you're entitled to a part of me—to a part of my life . Or when you act like it's me—like I'm the one with the problem!"

"Because all I've ever done is love you and you've given me nothing!" she spat, her face beaming red.

"So you fucking took it, you bitch," he seethed, his voice poisonous.

"You never appreciated anything I did for you," she hissed. "I almost spent my entire life behind bars for you!"

"For what you did, in my name," Dick corrected. "How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

"Loved," she replied with a warning, like it was some end all-be all. "I did it because I love you, because I saw how much you needed me, how much you needed me to do that for you . And you let me. Tell me that isn't love ."

He was honestly frightened. He could see that deep in her eyes she believed what she was saying. That she thought by killing Blockbuster, it would make him love her, but it didn't. It only pushed him away, and she couldn't let go of that.

"You need help."

"I need you," she countered. "I love you more than anything, and I can't live without you ."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dick asked. "Because I'm not falling for it, not this time."

"So what? Blockbuster's death is a stain on your conscience, but my life, what—not so much?"

Dick looked away from her, he knew she would probably play this card. The truth was, he would care if she did something to hurt herself, especially to spite him—it terrified him, in fact. But if he played into it, she'd win, and he'd never be free of her.

"No, of course I'd care, but if you really loved me, you wouldn't leave me with that guilt. That would destroy me, and you know that. How is that love?"

He could see her blood practically boiling. He had her cornered logically, she wasn't getting out of this one.

Lucky for her, she didn't have to. The bartender approached them, standing behind Cat and looking at Dick as if he were the bad guy.

"If there's a problem here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," he said, obviously addressing Dick.

He looked over to the man, he was just doing what he thought was right, rescuing the damsel. Dick would have done the same if he didn't know any better. But still, it made him sick that everyone would assume she was the victim—that she actually thought and acted like the victim.

Dick pushed out his chair when Catalina turned and raised her hand.

"There's no problem here," she said calmly, "this is just a simple misunderstanding ."

She looked over at Dick, she wanted him to agree. Only he wasn't interested in doing what she wanted—not anymore.

"It's okay," he said, letting his eyes drift down to Catalina, "I was getting ready to leave, anyway."

The Bartender looked over at Dick as though he were one lucky son of a bitch, and smiled at the Catalina. "Well if you need anything, just let me know."

Yeah, wait till she bites your apple, hero, Dick thought a little bitterly as the man walked back over to the bar, his eyes still trained on Dick like a hawk.

Dick began to rise from the table, but the black widow protested. "We're not done here."

Dick looked back at her warningly. "I am."

She sneered from across the table and stood up as if to block his exit.

"Well I'm not."

Dick looked back at her, a little intimidated, not so much for the fact that she was standing in his way, but for the fact that if he even touched her he'd probably get his ass thrown in jail, and she knew that.

He peered over her shoulder to see Rose stand up, ready to kick "Tits" into next Tuesday if need be. Dick looked back at her, visually telling her to stand down. He couldn't allow her to take the fall for him—as much as she wanted to.

Catalina noticed his line of sight and looked behind her, a thick scowl casting over any beauty left on her face. She trained her sight back on Dick, the scowl taking on a mocking expression.

"What? Not man enough to face me without your little pet ? Nice, Dick."

Like she had any right to talk about pride or strength. She didn't know the first thing about being strong or brave. He needed to let her know that.

"You're the one who's jealous of a 17-year-old girl, but if you really must know, she replaced you, and she's ten times the hero you could ever dream of being, Catalina. You'll never be anything to anyone."

Out of anything he said, that seemed to hit her the hardest, but he wasn't sure why. Was it because he'd replaced her, or was it because he valued the replacement more than her? Or was it because he took away her validation as a hero?

She looked down bitterly, and made a fist. "Fine," she growled, "if that's how you feel, fine! But this isn't over…"

He didn't like the way she said that, but regardless, he let her continue.

"…Not by a long shot," she continued harshly. "So when you're done playing with little girls , I'll be waiting."

She leaned in as if she were going to kiss him, his lips hardened and cold, but she only smiled mockingly, hoping whatever stains she'd left on his soul would fester one last time. She placed her fist in his hand, her smirk deepening, feeling him writhe at the contact, but he still held his ground. He felt a small piece of paper fall into his palm and she closed his fist around it, holding her hands around his. He knew she was aware that he could do nothing, that's why she was doing it. He leered at her with a burning hatred, but that was all he could do. For now.

"Until then, Mi Amor."

He watched her walk out the door, the bartender still glaring at him. He wanted him out, and Dick was happy to oblige.

Rose finally moved from her corner, trying to mask the fact she was nervous for him, but covered it smugly.

"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded.

Within moments, the two were nearly out the door, but not before one last outburst.

"Wait," the frat boy who'd bought Rose a few drinks said, "you're going home with him? He didn't even buy you a drink!"

Rose looked back at the guy like he were wearing a helmet or something. "Yeah, last time I checked, buying a girl a few drinks was about as binding as a pinky swear. Stop acting like you bought me a lobster."

Dick shrugged at the guy, as did the bartender. Yeah, it sucked, but hey, home girl owed him nothing.

"Ready to go, Rose?"

"Like a prom dress."

And with a roll of the bartender's eye, they left.

They walked outside, the wind blowing a little harsher now. The sky above was clear, the stars managing to shine over the cityscape despite its dull radiance lifting into the air.

Dick admittedly felt a little freer, like some of the weight he'd been shouldering was alleviated, the space in his chest aching less. He'd said everything he needed to say to her, even if she wouldn't own up to any of it. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd never acknowledge her wrongdoings, but it would have helped if she had. He may have even held some hope for her, but he knew now he should have never placed such a fragile thing in her hands to begin with.

"So was it worth it?" Rose finally asked, uncertainty bleeding from her eye.

Dick took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm not fixed, but I'm better. And that's a good start."

Rose smiled weakly at him, she knew what it was like to feel that way. Just always short of whole.

"Yeah, it gets better with time."

Dick shuddered at the thought. Time was something that had become unbearable to him, to think it could actually help mend his wounds, seemed a little deceptive.

"I hope you're right." He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder blade, guiding her down the street. "Thanks again. I don't know if I could have faced her without someone I trusted to back me up."

Rose smiled coyly. "You trust me?"

"Yeah," Dick said, and looked at her oddly. "I wouldn't have pushed for you to be a Titan if I didn't. What makes you think I don't?"

Her eyes fell on the ground. "Cause no one really does. Eddie did, but he's gone now. You just never really said it, so… I don't know—I guess I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't…"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Trust is something that you shouldn't have to say out loud, Rose, it's just something you feel. I trust you because at the end of the day you wear your heart on your sleeve and you don't bullshit anyone. I know you think you're not a good person, but you are, and deep down, you just want people to see that. You're a hero because you want to be a better person, and when you help people, you do it because it's right, not because you're looking for a favor, or to be favored."

"That's because you haven't received my bill yet, Grayson. You've racked up quite the tab, too," she joked, trying to get the focus off of her. "I'm kidding, by the way."

"I know. Humor is how you deal with crazy shit, it's that or anger. I'm glad you're turning to the former."

"I learned that from you," she said softly. "I saw how much you were hurting, yet you still found a way to make light of everything. I thought I'd give it a try."

"I'm glad you did."

They reached her Harley and she turned to her mentor with a sentimental half-smile. "Well, it's been real, but like every great adventure, my time here has come to an end."

"Yeah, I'm really gonna miss you. I'm shocked you haven't made a sexual innuendo all night."

"Well, it didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances, but, I found out the age of consent is 16 in the state of New Jersey… So y'know, if you wanna make out with me before I ride off into the horizon, I'd be cool with that."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I'm aware what the legal age of consent is, and no, no offense."

"You and your morality, Grayson," she said, picking up her helmet. "Maybe I'll have more luck with your brother."

"My brother?"

"You know, the guy with the red helmet, what's his name?"

"Oh… Jason," Dick said, less than enthused, "he comes with a lot of baggage."

"And you don't?"

"Touché."

"Well, I'm gonna head off now," Rose laughed. "No more psycho stalkers, okay?"

"I'll do my best," he said with a smile. "No more letting creepy guys buy you drinks."

"I let you buy me drinks."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Please take care of yourself, Rose."

She looked up at him and nodded. "I will, I promise… Deathwing."

"Okay, now get the hell out of my city and stop calling me that."

As he watched her go, he realized he finally understood. Understood why Catalina, a self-centered, ego-driven narcissist wanted to be a hero. It had nothing to do with helping humanity, or even making one life better. She had no need for that, it was all about power. Everything she did, every move she made was self-serving or a display of dominance. Killing Blockbuster, that was simply her playing God, forcing herself on Dick; that was taking what she wanted, but couldn't have, and she'd just reminded him of that. She couldn't leave him until she'd had the last word, till she'd sunk her fangs in him one last time to poison him. She just had to take away his power. Well, not anymore. If she wanted to act like an insect, he'd just have to crush her like one.

She waited, a glass of wine in her hand. She took as sip and looked down at her phone, recollecting the call she'd received. She was a bit shaken when she heard his voice, her heart teetering on its tipping point. He told her he was too rash, that he let his anger get the better of him, but he was ready to talk now. Ready to hear what she had to say. That he couldn't wait. She'd smiled at that, she knew he'd come around, he always did.

Without a second thought, she gave him her address and invited him over, telling him she would make it all better and left him with that.

She took another sip, her anticipation pumping through her veins, the heat of the wine mingling with her blood. She'd been waiting an hour, though it felt like a decade, but that hour was nothing compared to the lifetime she'd spent waiting for him.

A knock rapped at the door, and her heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched and she placed her glass down on the table and went to the door, taking a moment to check her makeup and fix her dress. She composed herself, taking a moment to quell her near giddiness. She finally opened the door, doing her best to display her most convincing bedroom eyes and found him in their fabled stare.

"Mi Tesoro," she said, sickeningly sweet, "I knew you'd come."

He smiled at her subtly. "You gonna invite me in?"

"Oh, of course, Mi Amor," she said huskily, "you're always welcome."

She shifted out of his way and he stepped inside. He took a quick look around. Her apartment wasn't big, but none of them were in that neighborhood. He should know—it was his neighborhood, after all.

"So tell me, darling," she began, closing the door, the faint click of the lock following, "why the sudden change of heart?"

He looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were right, I was just upset. I wasn't being fair to you… I'm sorry ."

She smiled, flashing a hint of victory. "I forgive you," she said, walking toward her prize. "Now why don't you let me heal you, Mi Amor." She placed her hands on his chest, a sinful look in her eye. "I promise, baby, I'm gonna take good care of you now."

He brought his hands to her face and smiled, cradling it as she closed her eyes, leaning in to seal her prey's fate. Only Dick had other plans.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and his face hardened to stone. His grip on her became cold and tight as he suddenly conjured an unnecessary amount of strength. Channeling every ounce of hatred, every violation, and every last bit of fear he held for her. He threw her, face first, into the high table beside them. She collided with the object with a violent force, the tempered glass surface cracking, and her wine glass shattering as it hit the the tile. She collapsed to the floor, blood pouring from her nose and into her mouth. She lifted her head, her body still in shock, as a rough hand tangled itself in her hair and pulled her motionless body around to face him.

He knelt down, hovering over her with an infuriated look in his eyes. She tried to look away from him, but he gripped her jaw and forced her to stare in his direction. She was going to hear this, whether she wanted to or not.

"If you so much as cast a shadow in my fucking direction, I will finish this job," he growled in a low voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me, Catalina—and I never wanna see your fucking face again! Got it?!"

She whimpered a little and nodded, but refused to cry in front of him, as though she could keep some sense of dignity if she didn't.

"Bitch," he huffed in her face, a faint spray of saliva hitting her cheek with a hateful breath.

He released her heartlessly and got up, storming out of her apartment as quickly as he'd struck her. She heard the door slam shut, cutting the last tie left between them. She flinched at the sound, like it hurt, and began to cry. She was finally afraid of him; she didn't have any power left to play. She had lost him, for good this time.

Dick threw on his hood, stepping out onto the street and into the cool night air. The wind had subsided and for the first time in a year, he felt his stomach calm. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder anymore. The bleeding in his chest had finally quelled.

He couldn't change what had happened to him, and he couldn't change what happened in the wake of it all. But he could change who he became as a result of it all. He knew he wouldn't be cured overnight, but he knew, in time, he'd be fine again. He could move on now. He could finally breach the surface and breathe—he could live. And for that, he could find enough strength to embrace the tomorrows and move out of the yesterdays.

The air somehow smelled sweeter—cleaner, even. Like the smoke had lifted, and the fires burned out, no longer hindering his senses. He could see beyond the rubble to a path beyond the ruins. He took a deep breath, taking the cold air in like it was the first time he'd ever done so.

Clarity, he thought, feeling the ground beneath his feet again, the world indeed still there. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't waiting for some unspeakable thing to pull him into its undertaking. No. For the first time in so long, he was free of her. Free from her hold and presence, and more importantly, free of her memory.

He couldn't taste her anymore.

[attackfish]

Queen's Thief Appreciation Week 2018 Compendium

Day One (April 8): the moment you fell in love with the series

The first time I read the series was when I was twelve. I checked The Thief and the Queen of Attolia, then the only two books that had been released, out of my school library and then promptly got sick with a nasty fever and was stuck in bed for a week and a half. During that time, after I recovered enough to read, but before I had the energy to get up and switch out books, I read them both cover to cover five times. I have been in love with them ever since.

Twelve is kind of an odd age to fall in love with these two books, Queen more than Thief, and my own budding political scientist inclinations probably had a lot to do with that. There wasn't a lot of political procedural fiction I had access to at the time after all, and this was the same year I made my science fair project about ballots. But I also was a deeply depressed disabled kid who didn't have many cool, complex disabled heroes, especially in the fantasy genre, and none who were allowed to doubt themselves and fear that they really were useless, or to feel a sense of imprisonment. Also important for me was seeing Gen triumphing through skill and wit both before and after acquiring his disability, and the sense with Gen that his disability wasn't so much overcome as worked around.

Day Two (April 9): Favorite Book

This almost feels like an unfair question, because all of the books are so magnificent. And I'm going to be unfair in my answer.

My favorite book of the series to read is The Thief. I grew up in Southern California and the mountain west, and the landscape the characters travel through in The Thief reminds me so much of home. And more than that, the framing device of the novel, that Gen recorded his story after it took place but before the events of The Queen of Attolia, gives the entire story a dramatic irony that balances out whatever the opposite of dramatic irony is that colors the first read through of the book. There's this feeling of "Oh Gen, you have no idea what's coming for you," that feels like payback after the secrets Gen keeps throughout this book. Though of course the framing device means Gen would have been assuming most readers already knew who he was.

The book I am most in awe of is The King of Attolia. It is so intricate. There are so many plots within plots, and every time I read it I pick up on new ones. And yet, it's still so compelling as a character drama, and it's a masterclass of political procedural writing, and just wow.

The book that affected me the most is The Queen of Attolia. It affected me not only as a disabled reader, but as a disabled writer, giving me the idea that the hero of a fantasy novel could have a disability without some kind of superpower that negated his disability. It is also the one that I find stylistically creeping into my own writing and my own character development.

Day Three (April 10): Favorite Character

My favorite characters, plural, are Gen and Irene.

My love for Gen was born when I first read The Thief when I was twelve. He sparkled. He jumped off the page, clever and funny, and I delighted in his ability to overcome seemingly any obstacle. And then I read The Queen of Attolia, and once again, he was able to triumph, but this time he did so with a disability. And there was nothing trite about his overcoming disability. He was allowed to be depressed and self-loathing and to rediscover his strength in a way that felt real to me, a depressed, disabled child, and I love Gen all the more for his personal and emotional relationship to his injury and disability.

Irene for me fits a type of character I am pretty much guaranteed to love in any piece of media. She is deeply emotional and also highly controlled, keeping those emotions hidden. She is often underestimated, and she understands this and uses this to her advantage. She has honed her mask of imperviousness through hardship and danger, knowing that the emotions she shows can be weilded as weapons against her. And her mask both protects and imprisons her. She is smart, she is careful, she is afraid, and she loves deeply. And when she acts, she acts decisively. This is Irene. It's also Mai, and Alicia Florrick, and Kalinda Sharma, and Ursa, Asami, and pretty much my favorite character in any series she appears in. Shut up. I have a type. And Irene is a wonderfully compelling version of this type.

Day Four (April 11): Favorite Ship:

Given my two favorite characters, this is probably obvious, but Gen/Irene is my favorite ship. It's a really... messed up ship, to be honest. They are both messed up people, and they both have trauma issues related to each other, especially Gen. Irene cut his hand off after having him tortured. Yeah this is a pretty messed up and horrible ship, and yet the way they both seem compelled by something beyond themselves to love each other. and the way they both struggle to cope with the terrible memories the other engenders within them is fascinating.

Day Five (April 12): Favorite Location

The landscape between the palace of Sounis and the temple of Hamiathes’s Gift is unequivocally my favorite setting(s) in this series. Again, this is because they remind me so much of growing up in Southern California and because I can picture them so clearly.

Day Six (April 13): Favorite Line/Moment

So many of the best moments in the Queen's Thief series are only recognizable in retrospect. Megan Whalen Turner is a master of setup and payoff. So I want to talk about two moments that are an example of this. In The Thief, after the Magus tells the story of the creation of the earth and the birth of the Gods, he and Gen have a conversation:

“You sound very learned, Gen. What do you know about it?” asked the magus.

I sat up and moved to the fire before I answered him. “My mother was from the mountain country. It’s no different there. Everybody goes to the temple, and everybody likes to hear the old stories after dinner, but that doesn’t mean they expect a god to show up at their door.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” I said, letting my tongue run away from me. “And you made a lot of mistakes. You aren’t even pronouncing the name of the country right. The people on the mountains call it Eeddis, not Eddis. And you left out the part where the Earth cries when the Sky God ignores her and turns the oceans to salt.”

“I did?”

“Yes, I told you, my mother told me the stories when I was little. I know them all, and I know that they call the country Eeddis.”

“As for that, Gen, I can tell you that Eeddis is the old pronunciation used before the invaders came. We’ve changed the pronunciation of many of our words since the time of the invaders, while Eddisian pronunciations haven’t altered for centuries. Eddis is pronounced differently now, whatever the people of that country say.”

“It’s their country,” I grumbled. “They ought to know the right name for it.”

“It isn’t that Eeddis is the wrong name, Gen. It’s just an old way of saying the same word. The rest of the civilized world has moved on. Tell me what other mistakes I made.”

I told him as many as I’d noticed. Most of the mistakes were bits of the story that he had left out.

When I was done, he said, “It’s always interesting to hear different versions of people’s folktales, Gen, but you shouldn’t think that your mother’s stories are true to the original ones. I’ve studied them for many years and am sure that I have the most accurate versions. It often happens that emigrants like your mother can’t remember parts of the original, so they make things up and then forget that the story was ever different. Many of these myths were created by great storytellers centuries ago, and it is inevitable that in the hands of common people they get debased.”

“My mother never debased anything in her entire life,” I said hotly.

“Oh, don’t be offended,” the magus said. “I’m sure she never meant to, but your mother wasn’t educated. Uneducated people rarely know much about the things they talk about every day. She probably never even knew that your name, Gen, comes from the longer name Eugenides.”

“She did, too,” I insisted. “You’re the one that doesn’t know anything. You never knew my mother, and you don’t know anything about her.”

This scene pays off in so many ways, Gen's changing relationship with the Gods of his people, the revelation of Gen's heritage and his (and his mother's) not at all common roots, all of which happen within The Thief. If we push that scene just a little forward, The Magus taunts Gen with the, he believes, unlikely prospect that because of his name, Gen might be related to the thieves of Eddis, which pays off handsomely when the Magus finds out who precisely Gen is.

But there's also a scene in The Queen of Attolia where Gen gets the Magus back for his insult here that I love. In this scene, Gen, who has captured the Magus and imprisoned him in a comfortable country retreat in Eddis, goes with his queen to retrieve him. On the way back with the Magus, Helen tells the story of Hespira, and afterwards the three discuss the tale:

The magus was quiet when the story was done. He looked at Eddis with new admiration. She sat cross- legged with the open packages of food around her, quite comfortable but then a little embarrassed by his regard. “And Hespira’s mother?” the magus asked finally. “Did she miss her daughter?”

“Oh, she grew used to the idea,” said Eddis. “Mothers must.”

“Alternatively, she lost her mind and wandered the caves of the mountain, endlessly calling for her daughter, and that’s what the miners hear,” said Eugenides without opening his eyes.

“There are a number of different ways to tell the story,” Eddis admitted.

“I didn’t realize that so much of the teller could be invested in the stories,” the magus said. He was used to the dry records of scholarship without the voice of the storyteller shaping and changing the words to suit an audience and a particular view of the world. He’d heard Eugenides tell his stories, but hadn’t realized the Thief’s interpretations were more than a personal aberration.

“Go on,” said Eugenides with a smile, his eyes still closed. “Tell my queen she’s debasing the old myths created by superior storytellers centuries ago.”

I love this moment. Gen is a scholar and has already forced the Magus to acknowledge him as such. But his relationship to these stories is not as a scholar, and it's not really as a religious devotee (after all he still doesn't believe the stories, in spite of his knowledge of the existence of the Gods themselves.) It's as a member of the oral tradition in which those stories are still being told and still evolving. He understands those stories as part of a living culture, his culture. It's this understanding, not his scholarly understanding, that the Magus dismisses in The Thief, and it's this understanding that he forces the Magus to acknowledge the value of here. I love it.

Day Seven (April 14): Free For All

In Thick as Thieves, Kamet gives us a wonderful glimpse back to a young Gen, the Gen of The Thief, or just after, when he was spying on Attolia for his queen and to satisfy his own fascination with her. I love this glimpse, and I love how much enjoyment Gen seemed to take in playing his parts. I miss that Gen, while at the same time am fascinated with who Gen is becoming, and I think part of the reason I miss that Gen so much is because it's implied that Gen misses that version of himself too and regrets the need to leave it behind.

[hotdadlicense]

salty ask list 4, 7, 9, 14 and 17 (XYZ is lawsuit) for 9-1-1- tv show?

4. do you have a notp in your fandom? are they a popular otp?

no! so far i'm vibin pretty much everything that's going on which is NICE.

7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?

NO. though, tbf, i have NOT finished yet and therefore also, have not done a rewatch. and that's usually where i form my more Concrete opinions.

9. most disliked character(s)? why?

okay i don't necessarily dislike any characters so far?? some character sometimes do Things and i'm like hmmmm what the fuck. maybe Don't. but overall i'm having fun and not like, actively tuning out when certain characters come on screen. which is RARE.

if i had to pick ONE, like just pick ONE that i'm slightly SLIGHTLY less endeared with currently? uh eddie. idk WHY okay i literally can't think of why. just something in the past season or so has made me be like hmmmmmmm. but also i love him. but i could love him more, y'know.

14. unpopular opinion about your fandom?

i actually haven't ventured out to any 911 blogs! which is surprising. everything i see about 911 comes from the same like 4 people that i follow that post it so i'm not up to date on the Fandom Drama and Discourse and honestly. it's so nice. love that.

17. instead of [lawsuit mess] happening, I would have made [answer] happen…

kasjhfjkasdhkj okay i am SO sorry about ur hatred of that whole plot line. like i hated it too but like. only simply becos i HATE Family Divided. Found Family Fighting. but honestly due to the fact that i know jackshit about lawsuits and lawyers and court etc etc?? the technical details about all of it barely even made an impact on me askjfksakhd i'm SORRY!

okay i haven't really done a Deep Dive on the Emotional Spectrum of what buck was ~going through~ for that entire debacle but like. there was the earthquake then there was the truck on his leg and he was off work and he was feeling like actual shit and he wasn't! allowed! to work! to be with his family! and they all kept turning him away! like yes, it was for his own good becos, injured, but like. it's BUCK! kids got abandonment issues and family trauma and is the type of person that NEEDS attention and reassurance and like. physical shows of affection. then there was the tsunami and losing christopher and then there was the blood clots at his welcome back party and he was turned away again???? i think there was some more hospital time? my memories getting hazy here but basically buck got kicked like. multiple times while he was already down.

and like the others were trying to show they cared by like. making him not work???? my memories of this specific part are NOT there becos with that plot i was like no lmao i'm not fucking watching until everyones reunited so if this is incorrect, forgive me, but everyone was like 'buck, no. u cant be here.' and buck was all 'bros i Need to be here. i NEED it.'

like they were all trying to SHOW each other how much they cared whilst also NOT LISTENING to each other. DECIDING things for each other instead of establishing some fucking open communication. so BUCK fucking sued them. which, okay drama king. and yes luc, he did it terribly. he did it in a way that no legal binding contract lawyer etc would work but. it's a drama show so that barely pinged my radar, i'm sorry, my dear.

SO BASICALLY all this to say that if EYE was in charge here and writing the story and laying down the ideas and storylines and character arcs, and we HAD to have buck sue them for like idk. the higher ups constant need to always divide The Family on Found Family Shows. then i GUESS we could keep MOST of it the same but instead, and luc omg ur absolutely gonna hate this, but instead!

instead of everyone kinda living in their own lanes and focusing on their own shit (which totally justified and fair btw! deal w ur shit, kids!) maybe if they all kinda looked around and were like 'oh damn. we're falling to bits here.' then MAYBE! if SOMEONE! from the firefam went knocking on bucks door to TALK to him.

and maybe if buck was all "actually, my lawyer said i'm to have no contact with anyone that i'm suing." cos he's such a law abiding citizen etc as we been knew. obviously.

okay THEN if said firefam member was like "oh, cool. they can forcibly remove me from the premise when they get here, then! any who! until then-" holds up some takeaway boxes, "dinner. can probably fit in an episode of [dumb cooking show here] as well. maybe Talk." and just barges in and settles on the couch.

and they TALK. and it's not deep and it does Not get to the root of the problem but it's a fucking START.

then two nights later, maybe a different firefam member shows up, same opening line at the door, and buck tries to get them to leave again, but like, he's barely putting up a fight. maybe the talk circles a little closer to The Issues this time.

maybe another firefam member a few nights later, but this time instead of trying to sort BUCKS Current Life State, they focus on said firefams Current Troubles. some give and some take.

maybe eddie DOES call buck to bail him out of jail. becos they've been in fucking CONTACT. maybe hen vents about her and karens current struggles and doesn't exactly ask, or listen, to bucks advice but like, it's good to TALK and she likes some perspective.

again, my memories of the other plotlines in these eps are HAZY at best and imdb is NOT helping me so disregard pretty much all of this if it DOESN'T make sense. but i just think it'd be neat if they fucking talked. if they sorted some shit out organically. i THINK i understand why buck jumped the gun and was like fuck it! let's sue! but i'd need a rewatch to like. have more concrete thoughts about it all.

BUT HONESTLY. if we could just get that shot of the lawyer telling buck what will happen if he goes thru with Suing them, including how he won't be able to have contact with anyone, and then we had a shot of buck showing up at bobby's. but instead of handing him the serve or what the fuck ever he did, instead! we got buck like, breaking down or something. like if suing was a close call but just didn't happen and instead buck like, took some time to THINK things through in the Big Picture way instead of the I'm Sick And Tired Of Always Being The One Fucking Suffering way and then we jump to the communicating and making up and there's no everyone vs buck, buck vs everyone thing??? that'd be just so much fucking better imo.

[serotoninking]

Reddie "please you can't die now" with Eddie dying:)))

So, since I’m writing this for Stenbrough as well, I decided that I’m going to keep that one a little more so on the canon side and this one is going to be more AU because I can only take so much. TW: Car Accidents, tons of angst, and some other stuff so just be prepared and feel free to shout at me for this, because lord knows I’m already doing it at myself. 

It had been a stupid fight that neither of them could even remember the cause of, but it was enough for Eddie to walk out of their shared apartment in the middle of the night with his boyfriend right on his heels.

“Where are you going?” Richie asked, struggling to keep up at the pace that the other man was walking at. 

“I’m going to think, and I’d really appreciate it if I can just go alone for right now,” Eddie sighed heavily as he turned around, his entire body language showing how exhausted he was from all the arguing they had been doing over the course of the past couple hours. It was enough to make Richie stop dead in his tracks, his face almost turning pale at the thought of Eddie just hopping on in the car, and not coming back. “I’ll be back, Rich…I justneed to get my head clear,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair then moving into his car. 

Richie stood in the street, watching Eddie drive out of their complex and into the night. He’ll come back. He said he’d come back so he will. It’ll be okay. Defeated, he walked back into the apartment to hopefully clean up the mess they had made. They never fought this bad, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t say that it didn’t make his hands shake and his breathing shallow as it brought back nights from his childhood when he spent hours staring at his ceiling while his parents played ‘Who Can Shout Louder’. 

He spent an hour by himself, chain smoking and staring at the door until he heard the phone ring. Effectively knocking over a picture frame to the floor in a quick attempt to get to the phone, Richie picked it up immediately. “Eddie?” 

“Is this Mr. Tozier?” A woman with a high pitched voice asked calmly, immediately turning his blood cold. 

“This is he…” he answered slowly, closing his eyes as he hoped it was just some collecting agent or even a telemarketer calling at one forty-five in the morning. He knew that wasn’t the case. 

The moment that the woman on the other lined said exactly what he was fearing, Richie’s entire world went spotted as he dropped the phone, watching the yellow device dangle from it’s matching cord. Without a second thought, he grabbed his own keys to his truck, and ran out of the apartment, his heart in his throat and his knees feeling weak. He felt sick to his stomach. 

Eddie was driving back home when he turned a sharp corner and collided with a truck twice the size of his car, pinning him inside of it until the first responders got there. From what the paramedics saw, there wasn’t the greatest chance that he would make it out alive, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be coming out of it with all four of his limbs. 

By the time that Richie finally got there, all the nurse could tell him was that he couldn’t come in yet, that Eddie was in surgery and that they were trying their best. He couldn’t breathe. Really, he wanted to fight the woman in the baby pink scrubs with graying roots, he wanted to shout at her and cause a scene, but all he could do was nod and shuffle to the farthest seat in the waiting room, curling up in one of the cushioned chairs. He replayed the fight that they had, the last thing Eddie said to him (”I’ll be back, Rich…”) and how he didn’t get the chance to say anything before he was watching him leave. 

It could have been another hour, could’ve been three until the same tired faced nurse was calling out his name. When he got there, there was a small frown on her face, and all he could do was prepare for the worse, his hands shaking, and his vision going spotty. “You can see him. They have him heavily sedated since he just came out of surgery. I’ll walk you there, and his doctor will be able to fill you in on more of what happened,” she explained. The tone of her voice is what Richie would have imagined a caring mother would sound like as she explained something difficult to a child. 

“…he suffered from a lot of blood loss by the time the paramedics got to him as well as a lot of trauma. We gave him a blood transfusion, however, we were not able to save his arm…” It all sounded almost drowned out by the sound of the machines right behind the curtain that separated him from Eddie as well as his own frantic heartbeat. “Can I just see him?” Richie whispered, his eyes locked on the blue curtain. He was sure that the doctor said something about preparing for the worst, but he’ll deal with that if he had to later on down the road. 

Richie sucked in a sharp breath when the curtain was pulled back, revealing his boyfriend wrapped up and battered. There were cuts along the side of his face and stitches lining his jaw, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at the empty spot that his arm would have been. Guilt took over as he started to blame himself, rushing over to the side of the bed, heavy sobs taking over as he clung to the man’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Eds. I’m sorry.” 

He stayed like that for half of the night, resting his head on the mattress as he watched the heart monitor, his own heart stopping every time that the numbers changed or the steady sound stopped for just a second. “C’mon, Spaghetti Man, you have to wake up and yell at me,” he whispered brokenly as he stared at Eddie’s gentle face after his heart beat dropped for just a moment, catching a passing nurse’s attention. 

“Sir, can I just have you step out for a brief moment?” The nurse asked as Eddie’s heartbeat grew more and more irregular. “What? No, no I can’t leave, what’s happening!” Richie stood up, his voice hoarse as a few other nurses and the doctor from earlier made their way in. The nurse from the waiting room, the one that made him think of a gentle mother, came in and gently took him out of the room by the elbow, holding on tight as he started to panic and try to get into the room. “Sweetheart, you need to step aside and let them do their job,” she kept repeating softly until they were down the hall by the nurse’s station, the sound of the nurses and doctors still present, but not as loud and terrifying. 

“He said he’d come back. He said he’d be back, that he needed to clear his head and now… now he’s surrounded by doctors with one fucking arm!” Richie sobbed, his eyes glued on the room down the hall that he was just in. He had to be okay. It couldn’t get any simpler than that; he just needed to come back. 

It wasn’t until the sun was rising through one of the windows in the waiting room-  where he was sent back to after the nurse, who he learned was named Nurse Kessler, but she insisted on being called Rebecca, had managed to calm him down enough to be able to sit down and drink some water- that someone was calling him back once more. They had managed to get his heart rate back to a steady pace, and once again, the doctor had told him a warning that he chose to not listen to, not ready to admit the fact that he could possibly lose one of his best friends. He had called Bill a little while after he calmed down to let him know, sure that he was going to tell the others as well. 

“Please, Eds, you can’t die now,” Richie whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through the familiar soft hair that he would always find himself playing with when either of them began to get lost in their thoughts too much and needed to be anchored back. “We can get you a really sick prosthetic and Stan can paint it for you. We can come up with epic stories where you fought off a shark and won, or even a dragon. Just…. come back, okay? You said you’d do that… so do it,” he whispered, falling asleep curled up into Eddie’s side. 

[briangroth27]

Atomic Blonde Review

Atomic Blonde is a hard-hitting, action-packed, neon-sprayed love letter to 80s Cold War spy intrigue! The film follows MI6 agent Lorraine Braughton (Charlize Theron) as she enters the viper’s nest of backstabbing spies in Berlin just days before the Wall comes down. She’s looking for a list containing information on all the city’s espionage agents, which will grant whichever country gets it significant leverage on all the others after the city—and the world—changes.

Charlize Theron was fantastic! She felt totally real as a jaded, seen-it-all-and-done-more supremely capable secret agent. Theron revealed a glimmer of hope for happiness and human connection, while also wearing the trauma of all she's had to do and all the people she's lost in her most private moments. Her first scene was a powerful depiction of the toll her job takes on her and after seeing her sacrifice and lose so much despite how hard she’s obviously been fighting her entire career, I definitely wanted her to find some peace. Her fight scenes were well-choreographed and Theron was very convincing in all of them. I don't think there's any question that Charlize Theron could pull off being the next James Bond, but I also don’t think a role like this should be boiled down to an “audition” for Bond or any other spy; Theron created a compelling, unique character in Lorraine Braughton who totally stands on her own. 

James McAvoy's larger-than-life David Percival, MI6's Berlin station chief, brought a ton of energy that played off Theron's more professional sensibility well. I thought he was too abrasive (as a result of shady dealings to gain information and maintain his place in the Berlin food chain) to be likable, but he was certainly a strong character with a memorable presence. The hard work and sacrifices he put into building his network of connections fueled his arrogance well, and his web made for an interesting little empire he’d created within Berlin. Sofia Boutella was great as Delphine Lasalle, a newbie French agent in way over her head. Since she was new to the spy game, I would've liked to see more of her perspective and how it might clash with Lorraine's hardened edge. Still, I liked the bits of idealistic honesty we got from her in the face of so much deception. Boutella’s chemistry with Theron was good and I was rooting for them to get a happy ending. Conversely, Lorraine’s previous relationship with MI6’s James Gascoigne (Sam Hargrave) was significantly less-developed and from what I saw on screen, it didn’t seem like he deserved the apparently important photo burning in the opening moments. Maybe if we’d seen more of him than a single flashback and his death in the opening minutes, I would’ve cared more about him. In the end, this relationship didn't seem necessary: the movie wasn't about Lorraine avenging him or working out her feelings for him at all. So many personal connections made the world seem a bit too small; as I saw mentioned elsewhere, the movie would’ve played out exactly the same way if Braughton and Gascoigne were just casual colleagues and nothing more.

Toby Jones (Eric Gray, MI6), John Goodman (Emmett Kurzfeld, CIA), and James Faulkner (Chief C, MI6 head) were good in roles that didn't ask much of them (a result of totally safe debriefing scenes that frame the main action of Lorraine’s mission in Berlin). I would've liked to see more of them interacting with Lorraine in the moment instead of just listening to her telling them her story and reacting to her quips. The Stasi agent known as Spyglass (Eddie Marsan) was solid as a sympathetic figure caught in the crossfire and he provided an unexpected emotional punch. Bill Skarsgard (Merkel) was likewise good as a foil for Percival: he knew Berlin and how to work it, but didn’t seem taken in or corrupted by it. Til Schweiger’s Watchmaker was a very cool, distinctive, and intriguing bit of the Atomic Blonde spyverse and I wish we’d seen more elements like him. The KGB’s Yuri Bahktin (Johanness Johannesson) was suitably imposing and I didn’t expect him to play out like he did. movie's main villain, Aleksander Bremovych (Roland Moller) was good for what the role asked of him, even if he didn't stand out as more evil than the rest of the characters. Bremovych beats up kids for information—which is awful, of course—but other than that he didn't have much to do.  I initially thought this was a problem, but perhaps it’s exactly the point: everyone was scrambling to survive and help their country by cutting deals and stabbing each other in the back so much that no one came away clean.

The plot wasn't too original, but the stakes felt high nonetheless. Despite its usage in just about every spy franchise, the “list of every spy is in the wind” plot doesn't feel stale exactly, but it is starting to become expected. The additional threat of Satchel—a mole within MI6 Lorraine needs to track down before they get the list—worked well, though I would've liked more suspects to keep her (and me) guessing. Perhaps the mole hunt should've been a larger focus brought on by the missing List instead of the other way around; despite moles also being a common spy trope, their secrecy and betrayal feel more personal to me than a list imperiling everyone. Still, the backstabbing and constant rush to secure the list’s information was an effective portrayal of all these countries’ efforts to retain control as the Cold War changed around them with the fall of the Berlin Wall. I thought the biggest misstep of the movie was the framing device of Lorraine being debriefed about her Berlin mission: I'm not sure it added enough to warrant its inclusion. I’ve read that this is the setup from the source material, The Coldest City, but aside from a few fun character bits from Theron, I don't think it justifies its existence. Not only does it spoil any danger Lorraine finds herself in for the majority of the film (the opening minutes let us know she survives, before she even gets to Berlin), but the few important bits could've been included in a much shorter debrief scene after the Berlin adventure concludes.

I liked the 80s soundtrack; it and the spray-painted location headings did a great job of transporting me to Berlin, 1989. Some Yaz—maybe “Don’t Go”—would’ve been welcome and fitting, though, and I’m surprised it didn’t sneak in with all the other 80s classics. Neon lighting and graffiti-smeared walls in certain locations matched the geographic tags and music well, while creating extreme contrasts with the stark exteriors of the cold, hard city. The direction was straightforward and clear: it didn't feel very flashy, but it got the point across and didn’t need an over-edited sense of flair anyway. Without any erratic cuts to make the action more impressive than it already was, I was able to follow the fights easily; in fact, clear looks at the action made the hits look even harder. I was especially impressed with a (seemingly) single-take fight/chase scene late in the film! The feel of an unbroken chain of events made the already brutal fight choreography hurt more. That Lorraine and her opponents got tired and showed the effects of their injuries between throwing punches (and chairs, extension cords, and whatever else was handy!) made the fights seem that much more real and created the sense that the characters really were having a hard time staying alive.

Despite a frame story that didn’t work for me and a pulled punch in the narrative (see below), I definitely enjoyed Atomic Blonde! I hope it does well enough to warrant a sequel, because I’d love to take another trip into this world! If it’s still in theaters near you, check it out!

  Full Spoilers...

-We never did find out what Delphine whispered to Lorraine and I wish we had.

-Lorraine being right outside Delphine’s apartment as she’s attacked was the most tense and tragic scene in the film. Well done!

-I'm not sure I follow why MI6 thought Satchel was a threat if they were feeding false information to the enemy. Someone had to get hurt for the information to be credible enough to continue taking it and for the British to want the mole eliminated. Was it that the real info Satchel obtained wasn't going to the Brits, but the US? I wouldn’t have minded if the US/Satchel had been fully screwing over their allies by giving up MI6’s information. The only reason I can think of not to take that step to its end is to preserve Lorraine’s likability as the “hero,” but I don’t think that’s worth downplaying her actions in comparison to how big a threat Satchel was presented as. Let her be an anti-hero who got her hands even dirtier than we thought. There’s no reason not to go all-in on that front and if there’s a sequel, Lorraine giving credible info to the enemy would’ve given a lot of weight to MI6 coming after her for revenge. This was the one punch the movie pulled, and it really had no reason to.

-Even so, I dug that no one came off completely innocent here. It matched the feel of the period, the backstabbing nature of the hunt for the List, and history in general.

-I do wonder if rewatching this knowing who Satchel is would at least reveal more nuance in the interrogation scenes. I wonder if Theron and Goodman’s performances are any different knowing the twist.

-Lorraine’s relationship with Gascoigne could've been used to imply she had a plan to intercept the list had he not been killed, which would’ve made use of that unnecessary connection.

-I haven’t read the source graphic novel, but according to this very spoilery list of all the changes the movie made to the story, Lorraine’s relationship with Gascoigne is the only one that doesn’t seem like an improvement.

-I was sure Percival was Satchel the whole time, but wanting to selfishly preserve his kingdom—his way of surviving the changing world—was the perfect red herring. It was nice to be fooled though and I liked that it was Lorraine.

[xteeninreallife]

K-Pop in 2019: The Reckoning

I never imagined that my first post here would be about k-pop. I actually “founded” this tumblog a couple of years ago with the intent of writing personal think pieces that were separate from my very shit-posty original tumblog. Maybe it would be about life, maybe politics, maybe personal beliefs. Probably with the occasional shit post entry thrown in for humour. I really didn’t think k-pop would make a serious appearance here.

I would never have been able to predict the nuclear dumpster fire to detonate in 2019 that the Burning Molka (or Sun) scandal would become. I don’t think anyone would have been able to imagine a world where several major top pop stars in Korea, plus the head of one of the Big 3 entertainment agencies would see their careers implode at the speed of sound.

To be honest, I still just feel a whole lot of disappointment in Seungri. He was the maknae, always the butt of the brotherly jokes, the forgotten, or ~useless one in BIGBANG. *Insert “Tyra: We were all rooting for you” gif here.* That was Seungri. JJY sounds like a creep based on his earlier related scandal. People have speculated about Yang Hyun-Suk’s shady dealings for ages. As for Choi Jong-Hoon, Yong Jun-Hyung, Lee Jong-Hyun, Roy Kim, and Eddy Kim, I didn’t really pay attention to them as individuals to form any opinion on them beyond the music they released.

But this post is about Lee Minwoo. Because as much as I love BIGBANG, Shinwha has been one of my favourite groups for almost two decades.

I count Shinhwa as one of my top artists/groups EVER, not just within the context of K-pop. Minwoo was my first bias, even if I had no idea about the concept within the world of k-pop fandom. As I grew out of my youthful fangirl phase and into adulthood, I recognized that he served as a mentor to many junior artists in the entertainment industry. To me, he was a pioneering example of how someone could evolve from the rigid confines of the first generation k-pop robotic idol, into an artist who was in control of their own career and business dealings. Shinhwa was the first k-pop group to fight for the right to own their name, and they beat one of the Big 3 (the Granddaddy: SM Entertainment!) companies to do so. They can serve as examples for groups like Highlight (formerly BEAST, and coincidently Yong Jun-Hyung’s former group), and T-ARA who leave their original labels but go to court for the right to continue as a unit. Shinhwa is today the longest-running k-pop group with zero changes to their line-up (and no disbandments). First and second gen groups like H.O.T., TVXQ!, Girls’ Generation, Super Junior, and Sechskies cannot say the same.

So, reading the breaking news story in early July that Minwoo had been accused of sexual harassment at a club was hard to take. I normally take zero issue with writing off celebrities who have been accused of, or convicted of sexual violence. Before #MeToo became a movement, my personal trauma of being raped in my mid-twenties had made me a staunch ally and advocate of the protection and rights of victims and survivors of sexual violence. For example, I grew up absolutely loving “The Cosby Show.” I still think it is one of the greatest shows of all time. But I cannot, and know I will not ever be able to watch another episode since Bill Cosby’s alleged crimes came to light in the flood of accusations a few years ago. At that point, what I had tried to dismiss as rumour became unavoidable and impossible to ignore.

I have honestly struggled with the news of Minwoo’s scandal. I hoped it was a stupid, one-off, drunken act. He would take time off to reflect, maybe seek help for alcohol abuse, maybe come back afterward as an humbled and apologetic person. I hoped it actually was just a misunderstanding. But as the days went by, I had to self-reflect and wonder why I took issue with standing with the women who made the original complaint.

No one likes to think of someone whom they admire to be with fault, and certainly not with a criminal fault. Junjin received backlash for saying that he was standing with Minwoo and that everything would be resolved soon if we all just believed in him. Like Minwoo was the Chanjo Tinkerbell. But I can understand where his comments are coming from. To him, Minwoo is not simply a bandmate or a co-worker; he is a brother. As a fan, I get it.

But this is a particularly precarious time for k-pop stars who have gone on for years in the comfort of knowing that their bad deeds were being covered up and taken care of; perhaps by agencies, perhaps by more powerful figures in the greater society. I am not saying that Minwoo must be a serial offender. Only time will bring any other truths to light, if they exist. I am saying that like the men previously mentioned, I do not believe that he will be able to come back from this.

Shinhwa will serve as an interesting case study, to say the least. Where FT Island’s Lee Hong Ki seemingly had no issue in immediately distancing himself from Choi Jong-hoon (see his epic “I eat well, I sleep well, I even poop well” comment to a fan), I can see that the other five members of Shinhwa will not be able to do so as easily. Shinhwa’s brotherhood of over twenty years has become as much, if not more of their brand as their music. I can see them choosing a passive Super Junior-esque route of quietly putting Minwoo on an unspoken but permanent hiatus until his “contract ends” and he decides to “retire” and relinquish his control as co-CEO of Shinhwa Company (see Kangin’s and Sungmin’s eternal hiatuses due to their own scandals. And I use that term very loosely regarding Sungmin because I think it’s ridiculous).

As of the date of this post, Minwoo and Eric Mun are listed as Shinhwa Company’s CEOs, but their official Twitter (which is in Korean) does not appear to make any mention of the accusations and investigation against Minwoo, and he did not receive the annual birthday salutation post on their Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram accounts. Clearly, the members have chosen to be cautious, perhaps recognizing that this is a damaged ship with only two outcomes: bail out in a lifeboat for five, or sink as united captains.

Any of the members of Shinhwa could easily go their separate ways. Junjin and Hyesung have had successful solo releases in recent years, Dongwan has found recent success as an actor in dramas and musicals, Andy has been making a comeback in variety show appearances this year after his own gambling scandal, and Eric is one of the most popular commercial spokespersons, and drama actors in the industry. None would have to make an outspoken break with Minwoo in order to maintain the success of their solo ventures.

There is no doubt that Minwoo’s absence in Shinhwa would be noticed. He is a main vocalist, the choreographer, and one of the most recognizable faces of the group. Which leads me to ask myself, am I really just having trouble accepting the end of my teenaged idol fantasy? I am a grown woman, I like to think that I can take a hard stand, but I find myself stalling on this matter. Perhaps because Shinhwa has made so much of their brotherhood and senior status as their brand; they are the forever six. Shinhwa is not just a music group, it is each member. It is equally Eric, equally Hyesung, equally Dongwan, equally Andy, equally Junjin, and yes, equally Minwoo. I think that I am not ready to mourn the end of this group. I don’t think if they were to release another album that included Minwoo’s participation, that I would be able to support it.

Honestly, I hate that. I do feel let down. I feel disappointed. I feel lied to. And I feel silly for feeling these things because I’m not an 18 year old girl bumping her “weird” Korean music in her little car as she zips around her suburban Texas neighbourhood on a Friday night. I am an adult who just doesn’t want to let that girl go. I want to protect her from the bad things ahead. I want to protect myself. 

[fathersonholygore]

Hulu’s The Path Season 2, Episode 11: “Defiance” Directed by Phil Abraham Written by Vanessa Rojas & Andrea Ciannavei

* For a recap & review of the previous episode, “Restitution” – click here * For a recap & review of the next episode, “Spiritus Mundi” – click here Hawk (Kyle Allen) is in one of those same rooms where his father Eddie (Aaron Paul) sat, staring into the Meyerist eye, repenting for sins. Or whatever. A lot of pain in him. On the outside, Cal (Hugh Dancy) and Sarah (Michelle Monaghan) are basking in the success of their latest talk. Although she’s having a tough time, with family. But Cal says he’s “all in” for their new life, their relationship. Except Eddie’s there to confront him over what he discovered about them. He also shows off the charm Steve (Keir Dullea) gave him, making clear both their leader and Sarah chose him; not Cal. Whoa. Note: Eddie’s cast in light as Cal, once more as I’ve noted time and again, gets cast in shadow, a great visual in this moment! Mary Cox (Emma Greenwell) and Sean (Paul James) are talking with his mother and the cult deprogrammer. They’re asked about whether there’s a threat of violence, which neither of them can answer for certain. He wants to take the second chance. She’s still connected, particularly to Cal. And then there’s Abe Gaines (Rockmond Dunbar), trying his best to blow the lid of the Meyerist cult. He says that “press alone” can take them down, though Sarah’s looking more likely headed to jail all the time. On top of that, there’s the issues with the water, and Abe gets troubling results back on the tests ordered. Through Richard (Clark Middleton), Eddie wants to send a message for his son. That they need to meet. Although Hawk isn’t doing well. His mother’s going to see him, then gets a call from Cal; he’s surprised to find out that Eddie was in fact in Peru with Steve before he died. The stress sitting on Cal’s shoulders right now is so huge, you can see it about to break. Later, he holds a meeting about Eddie slipping past security, and he goes a bit wild. You can see people a bit scared now for the first time. They can see Cal’s instability raging below the surface. Hawk’s having trouble seeing how the isolation is meant to help. He doesn’t feel it’s working, and he knows it didn’t work for his father, either. His mother, brainwashed as she is, pushes him to continue: “The Light radiates in you,” she tells him, feeding him the same shit her parents likely fed her. Speaking of Hank (Peter Friedman) and Gab (Deirdre O’Connell), they go to see their daughter Tessa (Alexia Landeau), defying the Denier Policy. Already, a change is coming in the movement altogether. One that Cal might not be capable of stopping.

Eddie, with help of Felicia (Adriane Lenox), continues on his climb to 8R. He does meditation. He threads a needle blindfolded. All while she narrates his journey. Simultaneously, Cal goes through all his things – his memories of Steve, pictures and letters and all sorts of things – wondering if what Eddie told him earlier is actually true. And despite the madness, the nonsense, there’s something to Eddie’s claim of being the “chosen son” because he has a power in him, somewhere deep down. Returning to life again, Hawk runs into Noa (Britne Oldford). Things are awkward, yet he confesses to being with Ashley (Amy Forsyth). They try moving past it, and he lays on one her lips to prove nothing’s changed. But something has changed, absolutely. He’s only denying it. Then he finds out his father crashed the compound to get to Cal. Coupled with the fact Richard brought word to him in meditation, he’s a confused young man. For his part, Cal is trying his best to hang on to everything. From Sarah to Mary. Of course when Sarah tells him about the latter wanting to possibly leave, things get tough. Cal tries to pretend like he cares, like he’s not putting pressure on Mary in any kind of way. Sarah’s doing her best to root out who’s exploiting and abusing her. Only a matter of time before she finds out more. And piled on top of everything, Noa contacts Cal to tell him Eddie’s trying to see his son. That’s not all, though. Eddie and his father-in-law Hank are still in league, too. And Eddie gets beaten up by three men, brutally. Which starts to make him paranoid about who’s pulling those sort of strings. He tells Hank that he now has to “pick sides” and to go with his own truth, instead of that of his wife, his daughter. But Hank can’t, not yet. Sean gets a bit scared after Mary tells him she let Sarah in on their possible plan to leave. Especially when Cal shows up at their place in the middle of the night. He acts willing to let them go. “You are loved here, the two of you,” he claims. Is this truth? Or merely an act, another mask in the long line of delusions that is Calvin Roberts? Honestly, I can’t tell at this point. What Abe discovers is that he’s a pawn in a game involving Dekaan, the water wars. He feels more and more isolated, as well. Nobody on his side seems to care about what’s truly happening. When people are dying from poisoned water, and the cult goes on blackmailing and brainwashing and ruining lives in their own way. Family dinner now includes Cal, something Hawk does not seem to enjoy. Also, Hank and Gab bring up how intense Cal was during their little security meeting earlier. This starts up a conversation about why Eddie showed up at the compound. Everything gets quite intense. Outside, Cal tells Hawk about him and his mother. Then retroactively admits to offering Ashley’s family a house as a bribe to leave Hawk alone. He likewise tries to make her out to be the horrible one. Not a good idea; shit. That night Eddie’s waiting for his boy as he gets back in the city. Things don’t go well, Hawk wants to throw him away, he believes whatever Cal tells him. He won’t accept anything, and says that Eddie has to accept everything, that he must move on. Poor kid. He goes one step forward, three steps back. Into the muck and the mire of Meyerism.

Sarah goes to see Eddie, and they argue over their respective responsibility for their actions. She’s shocked, knowing that he knows what she tried to make restitution for, and this sends her away angry. Now she can likely guess Richard’s been meeting with her husband. She goes back to the compound rifling through his things, trying to find a clue. Packing their things into a car in the middle of the night, Sean and Mary plan to leave. But she runs back, unwilling to let go. All he can do is turn around and leave on his own. This is not good. At home, Eddie hears a noise. Wielding a bat, he finds Abe out poking around his place. He reveals that his child made it, just as Eddie prayed for “to the Light.” More than that he explains why he’s on Eddie’s side. “Everything else has been a charade,” Abe says. Then he reveals more: he’s with the FBI. Finding keys to a hotel room, Sarah discovers Felicia there. In the woods, Cal has a vision. He sees Steve “painting flowers on [his] walls of doom.” He attacks his mentor, mad for not receiving the pendant, the one he says he earned. He chokes Steve, but the man only smiles. A terrifying, waking nightmare. We have an idea of all the devious ways in which Cal had to… earn, the pendant. This is the trauma that lingers in Cal constantly, haunting him.

What an intense episode! One of the most emotional, eerie, powerful episodes of all. Excited to see what happens in “Spiritus Mundi” next, as we get closer to the end of this psychedelic, strange, visceral Season 2. The Path – Season 2, Episode 11: “Defiance” Hulu's The Path Season 2, Episode 11: "Defiance" Directed by Phil Abraham Written by Vanessa Rojas & Andrea Ciannavei…