#Amanda is a terrible person and I will fight anyone for you if they give you shit for recognizing this anon

[ziracona]

I'm glad someone finally adressed the thing with Amanda. People on tumblr really view her as some poor unfortunate woman with a hidden golden heart who only has good intentions and deserves better, like she didn't have a choice in fucking over her victims and going directly agaisnt John's teachings. And when someone depicts her the way she is in canon, those very same people scream at them for "writing her wrong" and "missing the point of her character".

Thank u anon I feel very seen in this Chili’s tonight.

I think some people went into Saw II not knowing she was a fake ass bitch and just never got over their first impression feelings, but most of the people I see do it seem to be doing it becuase they’re horny for her. Which like. Idk what ever happened to being able to like a character without liking them and/or stanning them as a /person/.

Here, I was joking in discord about making this and for you Anon, here it is:

[lorenzobane]

Harebrained Scheme

AN: Written for @trektober-challenge first installment- namely Prime Directive, but more specifically inspired by some of @fractal-baby discussion about Spock’s absolutely insane plans. It was written pretty quick and definitely playing fast and loose with timelines, but set after ST:ID but before ST: Beyond. Can be read as pre-Spirk, but the major relationship is Jim & Sarek chatting. 

Can be found on AO3 here

Being kidnapped and held with his First Officer’s father was never exactly the plan for Jim. There are, in fact, a lot of people Jim would rather be kidnapped with. Namely, the aforementioned First Officer Spock.  

But as it stands-- 

“We have been held here for approximately 2.3 hours,” Sarek says after a moment of silence. 

Jim nods, “don’t panic.” 

Sarek gives him a look that plainly says Vulcans don’t panic. “I am simply stating a fact of our capture.” 

“Yes, sir,” Jim says patiently. “I’m aware of how long it has been.” 

“The temperature is several degrees below Vulcan standard,” Sarek pointed out. 

“I am aware of that as well,” because Jim was. Whoever their enemies were, they knew who they had kidnapped. The temperature is holding steady at a place where Jim is uncomfortable but is draining Sarek. 

Sarek says nothing and continues to observe the cell around them calmly. Jim has been pacing since he woke up about an hour ago. It’s a plain white room with no windows and no doors as far as he can tell. He’s tried clawing at just about every inch of the sterile space, and as far as he can tell, nothing gives. 

“What are the walls made of?” Kirk mutters to himself. They don’t feel like metal or even plastic- they radiate the coolness as if they’re some type of natural product, but the way the room is sealed tells him some kind of technology is involved. 

Sarek cuts into Jim’s thinking with a, “I believe these are made of Betazoid limestone.” 

“What makes you say that?” Jim asks. With Spock, he’ll usually prattle for a few minutes, discussing density and texture before giving him an answer as straightforward as his father. 

Sarek looks at him in surprise, “you are not able to tell?” 

Jim resists the urge to reply with sarcasm. Sarek isn’t Spock, which is plainly apparent in every interaction they have. Though Spock always seems extremely calm and balanced to Jim, being around his father makes Jim aware of how much more emotion and variation Spock regularly expresses. 

“No,” Jim says. “I haven’t spent much time on Betazoid.” 

Sarek nods, “I was briefly an Ambassador there in my son’s youth. He was very fond of the rock and found its cool texture pleasing.” 

“I thought it would be illogical to find a rock pleasing,” Jim replies without thinking. 

Sarek is quiet for a moment before responding with, “yes, indeed it was. However, as my wife put it to me then, there is nothing illogical about curiosity. The desire to explore. I am not sure I agree with her, but I have never been successful in curbing my son of any habit he does not wish to break.” 

“He can be stubborn,” Jim replies with amusement.

A mild understatement if Jim has ever said one. Though he is always respectful and never veers into full-on insubordination, Jim now understands what Pike meant when he referred to Spock fondly as an ‘extremely independent First Officer.’ Jim doesn’t mind it, maybe even loves it- the way Spock is relentless when he is convinced of the correct course of action. The argumentative (logically debated, in Spock’s words) messages and memos coming at all hours until Jim either gives in or says the phrase, “drop it, that’s an order.” 

Which, at the very least, shuts him up for a shift or two. 

“Do you believe they will be able to find us?”

Jim shrugs, his communicator is still on his person, and he tries it every few minutes, but he keeps getting static. “None of my messages are going through, but as you mentioned, your son is very stubborn and an extraordinary Starfleet officer. If anyone could rescue us, it would be him.” 

Sarek nods again, and they sit in silence while Jim continues to search every square inch of space. It doesn’t make sense- unless their captors beamed them into the room, there is no way for them to have entered without a door of any kind. 

“My son,” Sarek says, somewhat awkwardly pulling Jim out of his observation of the walls once more. “How is he-- I mean to say, I recognize as one of the very few Vulcans at Starfleet, and now as an endangered species, it may be challenging for him.”

Jim kindly doesn’t say that Sarek didn’t actually ask a question and responds with, “the crew loves him. He fits in great and has a surprising number of friends. The kids in the Science department all think he’s some type of rock star. The amount of transfer requests I get specifically for his division is getting out of hand.”  

“Rock star?” Sarek repeats back. 

“A term for an old Terran classical musician who was known for extreme popularity,” Jim responds with some curiosity. Spock is exceptionally familiar with Terran classical music and had known precisely what Jim had meant when he used similar phrasing. Still, Jim supposes that perhaps he picked it up in his many years on earth.

“I am gratified to hear this,” Sarek replies, somewhat slowly. Jim jerks up, alarmed, when he realizes that it appears that each blink is getting slower and slower as if he were fighting falling asleep. “He has so few affiliates on Vulcan.”

“Really?” Jim asks, surprised. 

For all Spock can be logical, sarcastic, and moralistic to the point of exhaustion, he’s also a kind friend, a shockingly understanding commanding officer, and a good sport about most things. He even participates in some ship-wide events, like the talent show where he played some genuinely excellent Vulcan lute. 

And purely for Jim’s amusement, played a lute version of a truly ancient Terran classic that Jim has a soft spot for, Wildest Dreams. 

“He… Was an unusually brilliant student,” Sarek says, still slow as if fighting for words. Jim realizes with an urgency that he should probably try to keep Sarek talking to keep him awake. 

“Vulcans didn’t like brilliant students?” Jim asks with amusement. The idea of Spock being a nerd among nerds is somewhat hilarious. 

“No, they did not like an unusually brilliant half-human,” Sarek replies, his voice for the first time that Jim has ever known him touching with a hint of sadness. “And he was… Willful. Unusually brilliant, and ferociously unselfconscious about his mother.” 

Jim laughs a little at that, rubbing his neck unconsciously, “yes, I definitely learned the hard way that you shouldn’t insult his mother.” 

“As did many,” Sarek says, his eyes closed. “He had a violent physical altercation when he was eleven for a similar reason. It was that disrespect of his mother that ultimately caused him to turn away from the Vulcan Science Academy.” 

“He didn’t go to VSA because they insulted his mother?” Jim asked, surprised. “Why would they insult Amanda anyway?” 

Sarek takes a sharp breath at the casual use of his wife’s name, and Jim feels terrible. After months of playing chess with Spock, they had begun discussing their childhood and Spock often spoke of his mother glowingly. He had insisted that they use her name to honor her memory. 

“They referred to her blood as a disadvantage. I knew the moment they said it; he would never accept a place that looks down on humans. He could be illogically loyal.” 

“His illogical loyal behavior saved you on Vulcan, and it saved earth,” Jim replies, his voice sharper than he intends it to be. 

Sarek opens his eyes at that, slowly and blearily, “I did not mean that negatively. I have come to find that many of the traits I viewed as… Aberration in him, in his youth, has come to define his tremendous successes.” 

Jim doesn’t say, though he dearly wants to, that viewing his child’s personality as an aberration at any point is pretty illogical. Still, Spock is a subject that Sarek is willing to stay awake and speak about, so Jim asks, “like what?”

“Well,” Sarek says wryly, “his disregard for rules he simply disagrees with. It is, presumably, the reason that he works so well with you and your idiosyncratic leadership style.” 

“I would not say that Spock isn’t interested in the rules,” Jim replies with surprise, the betrayal of Spock’s report after they saved him from a volcano still kind of stings. 

“He follows the rules he believes in avidly, that is true,” Sarek says, his voice does hold amusement now. “But he regularly ignores them if he wishes to. I presume you are referring to his report after the events of Nibiru?”

Jim jerked in surprise, “how did you know--?” 

“My son and I have been keeping close correspondence after the destruction of Vulcan and the loss of his mother. We are attempting to… work through the strain our relationship was put under while I worked through my disappointment that he did not go to the Vulcan Science Academy.” 

“Isn’t disappointment illogical too?” Jim asks. It is hard for him to hear the casual way Sarek describes his feelings towards Spock when Jim truly and completely believes that his First Officer is one of the finest beings he has ever encountered. 

Sarek makes a noise of agreement, “you are correct. Vulcans may take a vow to control our emotions, and we certainly may attempt to utilize logic in most decision-making. Still, there is no doubt that our species can be vulnerable to prideful behavior.” 

Jim, having beaten Spock at chess a few times, can attest to that. 

“What did he say about Nibiru?” Jim asks, curious now as to how Spock described the events to his father. 

“I believe,” Sarek says again, his voice rich with amusement now, “that you saw yourself as the rule breaker in this scenario. However, after listening to his entire recounting, I must ask you- whose idea was it to freeze the volcano?” 

Jim looked at Sarek blankly, “Spock’s. He had been reviewing the geothermal events on the plant. He calculated the likelihood of explosion was incredibly likely, so he asked if he could try one of his experiments to save the planet.” 

“You realize that the plan itself, from its initial conception, violated the Prime Directive, do you not, Mr. Kirk?” 

Jim looked at Sarek blankly, “what?” 

“It is against the Prime Directive to interfere with a planet’s destiny in any way. Then, the matter of his cold fusion device. An entirely novel invention that had gone through no formal testing, no review process… He simply believed it would work, conducted experiments in his free time, and wanted to use it. And had a captain who trusted him.” 

Jim blinks again at Sarek. “But… But…” 

Sarek leaned his head back, “do not feel bad. He was somewhat infamous for this when he was a boy. His capacity to convince his instructors that his personal pet projects were highly logical and beneficial regardless of external forces was… Remarkable. And in you, I think he has finally found a place where his prodigious intellect is not being checked by constant regulation.”

“Spock always follows regulation,” Jim defends on instinct, his mind reeling. 

“He always follows the ones he believes deserve to be followed,” Sarek corrected. “He has always had a somewhat unusual penchant for attempting novel actions without the traditional Vulcan tendency of deep contemplation.” 

Oh, the thought hit Jim suddenly. Spock is a Vulcan bad boy. Jim doesn’t know why he finds that so shocking; Spock does, after all, go along with a majority of his plans and even comes up with half of them. Even more damning, if Spock did not agree with a course of action, it relatively rarely ends up occurring. 

Which means… Spock is actually as goddamn reckless as he is. 

Jim isn’t sure how he feels about this revelation. 

“He... He tricked me!” Jim cries out eventually, unable to contain it. 

“But as I have said,” Sarek adds, his voice is shallow and slow now, “I have come to realize… These qualities, his capacity for creativity, and quick thinking have allowed him to become the most remarkable of us.” 

“I’m glad that you could see what we have always seen,” Jim says, though he’s more using the royal “we.” 

It took him considerably longer to see what was right there in front of him, but once he had, it made sense to Jim that Spock had been a popular professor, First Officer, and Advisor in his time at Starfleet. 

“I was unwilling to admit it, but I was worried when he chose Starfleet. So far from his people, alone and living in an abundance of difference. Vulcans can be quite homogeneous.” 

“Infinite diversity in infinite combinations,” Jim quoted from Spock’s eternal sermons. 

“Ironic that it is a Vulcan philosophy when so many of us view the world so similarly,” Sarek said, inclining his head slightly. “However, in a land of difference, he was able to find a space for himself that he was unable to find with his people. He always did appreciate adventure, read illogical books with his mother like Alice in Wonderland and Sherlock Holmes. Even Shakespeare which his instructors on Vulcan never enjoyed.” 

Jim raised his eyebrows again. Spock often quoted fanciful literary classics in trying situations. Still, it never entirely occurred to him how oddly poetic and even artistic that would have made him in a different place. 

“I hope he knows that I hold him in high regard,” Sarek says after a moment, and his eyes drift shut again, his breathing going slow. 

“No,” Jim leaps up. “No, you can’t. I can not be responsible for the death of two of Spock’s parents.” 

“Captain Kirk,” Sarek says with exhaustion, “do not worry. I can place my body into a healing trance that will allow me to remain stable for an extended period of time if need be. The Betazoid limestone will make us challenging to track and as such--” 

Just then, there is a loud thudding noise on the wall to their right, like something heavy just rammed into it at full speed. 

A thudding again, and then Sarek shudders awake, “Spock?” 

Jim doesn’t hear anything but Sarek does because he turns to Jim and says, “please move 3.87 feet to your left.” 

Three seconds later, a thud outside the wall gives way to what appears to be an ancient wrecking ball. 

“What is that?” 

“I think it is your crew, Captain,” Sarek says. 

Another beat and a large stone crash through the wall using a device that is an ancient Terran wrecking ball. 

“Captain,” Spock said calmly through the hole he just blasted through the wall. “I see you’re unharmed. Father, it is gratifying to see you safe as well.” 

“Glad you got to us in time; we were running out of gossip about you,” Jim says with a smirk as he slowly starts to try to clamber through the slightly too small hole. 

“Please refrain from joking,” Spock says, guiding his father through the hole much more gracefully. 

“Who’s joking?” Jim replies. 

Spock looks to his father with an eyebrow up, and Sarek responds, “while I would not term it “gossip,” the captain is correct, and our mutual affiliation with you helped pass a majority of the time.” 

Jim nearly cackles at the brief look of horror that passed over Spock’s face when he replies with a steady, “indeed.” 

Jim smirks and is silent while Spock focuses on calling the Enterprise to beam up. 

And much later, when Spock asks him what they discussed while Spock and Jim played their usual game of chess, Jim can be entirely honest when he says, “your many admirable qualities.” 

It’s definitely worth the way Spock’s ears turn a light green. 

[martian-martian-martian]

For the “send me a fandom and i'll say:” Cobra Kai

 You magnificent person, of course! favorite female character: Carmen + Rosa. Every time they’re on screen I lose it. Closely followed by Aisha and Moon. Now THERE’S a crack ship.  If we were judging the entirely of Karate Kid Canon, I would say Kumiko and Daniel’s mom <3 favorite male character: There’s only room in this heart for Johnny Lawrence, sir. Followed by Miguel. I...I love Miguel. So much. 

If we were judging the entirely of Karate Kid Canon, I would say Mr. Miyagi and young Daniel <3 least favorite female character: breathe if Tory sucks, lol. the most unnecessary fuckin’ character, perpetuating girl v. girl hate as a negative stereotype about female relationships AAAAAAAAAAA the ONLY thing I like about her is how sexy she is which is very and also i like the idea of Kreese having a female evil protege and their ‘kill rapists’ dynamic. But that’s IT.  least favorite male character: Anthony LaRusso could fall in a manhole and Daniel would quietly slide the workers who left it open a 20 dollar bill. The writers said, should we give this child one singular redeemable trait? Maybe put a glimpse of the old, adorable Daniel in his younger days? Haha, no <3 favorite ship: Of all time, gotta give it to Johnny/Carmen. Swiftly followed by Lawrusso, followed by Daniel/Kumiko, though I’m warming up to him and Amanda once she developed some character. I’m bi, okay, I can love the homoerotic fights and the found-family tenderness! THEY BOTH CAN EXIST! 

Binary Boyfriends is of course iconic, but I also, unpopular opinion, don’t entirely hate Yasmine and Demitri, I think it’s cute that he’s gettin’ some. 

Chozen/Daniel also fucking slaps for some reason I kind of dig it. 

Other than that, I can’t choose between Sam/Robby or Sam/Miguel but both kind of had their time and got kind of ruined so thats a mad bummer. 

Same with Hawk and Moon, I really thought they were sweet and cute actually and had a lot of potential but she did the right thing and now she’s a bi-con, yaaaaas! 

least favourite ship:

Tbh, any of the ones that have, like, no onscreen evidence or even interaction.

Besides that: 

Robby/Miguel, though it’s hilarious as a crackship, but i just see hate, no chemistry. They’re so much better as brothers.  

Johnny/Bobby or any of the OG cobras, I just don’t really see it. if you want 80 homoeroticism, Lawrusso is RIGHT THERE. Although the guys having a crush on eachother is okay I just don’t see it as endgame yknow?

 Johnny/Shannon is funny as shit because they are legit so terrible for eachother. I’d love to write them just to go into how they bring out the absolute fucking worst in eachother. 

 tory/miguel because she’s so out of his league attractive-wise and he’s so out of her league...like, MORALITY wise. not saying miguel isn’t hot, he IS, but Tory has the vibes of like a 22 year old trying to get her GED and Miguel is a literal niño.

kreese/literally anyone you think that man deserves love, fuck you. double fuck you fi its any of his students, I will dig two graves. 

film/tv show rating: For ironic campy humorous casual viewing: 11/10 For actual high-quality plot, dialogue, and character: 6/10 (needs work here and there) Whatever the fuck was going on with the entire LaRusso family being pointless and one dimensional as shit for two goddamn seasons: -10000000000/10

edit: WHY DID IT CORRECT TO FUMIKO ITS KUMIKO

[connorinabeanie]

A slightly salty take on North and fandom

Disclaimer: Nothing in this post is meant as an attack on anyone. Fandom is subjective and you have the right to interpret media, form your own conclusions, and create whatever you want. These are my opinions about what I’ve seen, as well as my experiences in previous fandoms and the patterns I’ve seen play out over and over again. It’s okay to disagree with me, and it’s okay to have a respectful discussion in reblogs/comments! Just keep it civil. That out of the way…

North. She’s polarizing character in DBH; she tends to be loved or hated, and I’ll admit it: I didn’t like her at first either. I wanted to, but as I played through my first time I just couldn’t get past one of her traits in particular, which was that she was so convinced she was right; she blamed Markus for every mistake, refused to adapt her tactics or consider other methods, and seemed more driven by vengeance than anything else. So as much as I wanted to enjoy her character, I found her to be a poorly written “strong female character” archetype that fell flat in execution, as most characters of that type do.

Honestly, I think this is the reason most people who dislike North dislike her, at least consciously. They genuinely think she’s a terribly written character, and they’re not necessarily wrong. One playthrough on a standard route, with no extrapolation or extra consideration, combined with a lot of people getting the awkwardly forced romance (I actually avoided this, completely unknowingly, on my first playthrough) leads to a dislike of this character. That’s understandable! I would expect this from people who played the game once. But that’s where the problem comes in, for me.

People active in a fandom usually haven’t consumed the media they’re into just once. They usually don’t engage in surface-level interpretation, and they usually don’t lack context. But I find it hard to believe that so many of the opinions and interpretations regarding North could possibly come from people who have approached her character with an open mind and additional information, because just one major path divergence shows a completely different side to North’s character.

I’m talking, of course, about North’s leader route. When we see her in Markus’ role, leading instead of advising, her true motives come out: she loves her people and is willing to fight for them. She isn’t interested in playing nice with her oppressors, and why should she? There’s a whole discussion here about how oppressed people are judged for how nicely they fight for the rights they should already have, where there’s a ‘good’ way of protesting and a ‘bad’ way of doing it (which is, ironically and showing how tone-deaf Cage can be, supported in the narrative of DBH as well), but I won’t go into that in depth; other people have posted really good takes on this already. I’ll just mention it here and there where relevant.

Once of those relevant places is that, as I said, in North’s leader route she isn’t interested in peaceful protesting. And you know what? When I played this game the first time and had Markus, I had been peaceful up until Night of Soul, which is where North would be making her first major decision as a leader if you don’t have Markus. Yet when it came down to it I made the same decision with Markus that North makes on her own, because you know, as a Jewish woman, I wasn’t super interested in peacefully protesting at the gates of camps that were currently killing people. Playing nice hadn’t worked, and it was time to fight.

So maybe I’m in a different position that some others when it comes to interpreting North’s choices, and as I saw that she made the same choice that I did when playing Markus, I’m just… Not impressed that the fandom tendency to criticize this choice as warmongering, unreasonable, and a ‘betrayal’ of Markus’ peaceful actions (always assuming that Markus had been completely peaceful before, which is the way the story pushes on you, but certainly isn’t a given.) As far as I’m concerned, North is taking the action needed to save her people who are in danger right that instant, and humans don’t deserve a nice civil protest (and if I were in her position with Markus alive, I would be furious that he wanted to just sit and talk while people were dying.) They need to be stopped, and she’s going to stop them.

But it wasn’t just her choice in the church that brought me around to North’s side during her leader route, it was her behavior during Crossroads. Specifically, it was her behavior toward Connor, and how it contrasted with some of her actions earlier. So, going back a bit to Spare Parts, where the Jericrew goes on a mission to steal parts from the Cyberlife warehouses at the docks, and you run into John. North votes against taking him with them, citing that they can’t trust him and it’s too dangerous. Moving on a little, to Stratford Tower, if (or, more likely, ‘when’ since it’s pretty difficult to avoid) Simon is injured, North suggests shooting him. These are pretty harsh marks against her, because they seem needlessly ruthless, but are they really?

With John, the answer is maybe yes. But think about it from her perspective; they’ve never seen the ability Markus used, in turning an android deviant. So as far as North is concerned, John was a threat to them about two minutes earlier, and now wants to go with them? With no traumatic catalyst or trusted android vouching for and giving him the key to Jericho? To North John is a potential threat, a potential danger, and she has no reason to trust him. But as the story goes on, North never makes another objection to an android joining them in this way, because she knows they’re truly deviant. As soon as an android is deviant, they’re one of her people.

With Simon, the answer is probably no, because North is exactly right; if Simon lives, and Connor finds him, Connor finds Jericho. It’s that simple, and it’s not a rare series of events. North might be a little fast to jump on the option, because there’s a genuine argument to be made that it isn’t worth killing someone just because there’s a chance that something (even something very serious) might go wrong, but she clearly isn’t choosing this option because she wants it; she’s choosing this option because she thinks it’s the most guaranteed way to protect her people. It’s a difficult, ruthless decision to make, but it isn’t one made out of malice.

(It’s also worth noting that Simon suggests leaving North when she’s in danger in Crossroads, when the only people that would be at risk from saving her were Markus and Connor, and this happens whether or not North suggested killing Simon one the rooftop. Yet this choice is almost never criticized, because it comes from Simon, and I’ll get into that later.)

But with those particular attitudes from North out of the way, it’s interesting to see how she reacts to Connor in her leader route. North instantly shows concern for him, never blames him for the attack on Jericho, and—like Markus—tries to prevent him from going on his suicide mission to Cyberlife Tower. She’s kind and understanding, and it’s clear that she accepts Connor immediately as one of her people.

This is a place where I have some trouble with fandom interpretations of North and Connor’s relationship, specifically in terms of North being angry, cold, or extremely suspicious of Connor (a little suspicion, especially in a more ‘good end’ route where she has less direct interaction with Connor during the revolution, is reasonable; I’m talking about outright refusal to even consider accepting him.) It bothers me for two specific, and somewhat different reasons.

One is that it directly contradicts a theme of North’s history, which is that deviant androids are not their pasts. They’re not what they were before they woke up. The idea of North holding someone’s past, before they turned deviant, against them is just… I can’t imagine it. I can imagine her suspicion, as I mentioned before, until she's very sure Connor is truly deviant, but that seems very apparent to her right away in any route (I find it hard to believe she’d think he was faking deviancy after delivering the army to Markus.) Some concern or suspicion after finding out about the attempted hijacking makes sense, but the way I see it portrayed in fic is often jarring; it seems completely out of character for her to blame Connor for something like that, as opposed to being angry on his behalf, because North wants androids to be free (and, more deeply, she’s experience being used for something she never wanted.) She wants androids to have the chance to live, to become their own people, and to leave their pasts behind them. Why would she blame Connor for what he was made to do, whether before he was deviant or when Amanda tried to take control of him? It goes against everything North stands for, and that leads me to my second reason:

I think people choose this interpretation because it makes North a villain. Maybe it’s not an active conscious decision to do this (and in fact I doubt it usually is), but it reminds me very painfully of the trend in fandom of villainizing a character—especially a female character—in order to woobify a male character (and, often, get the female character out of the way of a ship) and I can’t help but see that here. It seems like a cheap, easy way to excuse other characters turning against North for her behavior, and therefore getting her out of the way as well as causing drama and conflict for the characters the writer really wants to focus on.

And that seems like a good segue into the big topic that people are gonna get mad about being called out on: misogyny. And even more specifically, misogyny when it comes to shipping.

I’m just gonna state this super clearly at the forefront: I have no problem with shipping whoever you want, whyever you want. I’m not personally into most ships for various reasons, but I do have some favorites (most of which other people aren’t into) and shipping is fun! Not everyone agrees on shipping, and that’s okay; not everyone has to like what you like, we can all still exist in harmony.

But that isn’t to say that people don’t engage in, for lack of a better word, ‘problematic’ behavior in their ships. As opposed to just going ‘hey, I like this, I’m gonna do it’, way too many people become obsessed with justifying their ship (and I think this comes from an underlying desire to ‘prove’ it’s canon or based in canon, as a way of making it seem more legitimate, which is a whole other topic I could rant about.) In the process of these justifications, and then often as a part of the fixation or obsession that some people develop about their ships/characters in their ships, any character or ship that ‘threatens’ someone’s favorite is a target that must be destroyed. And, in what I would say is arguably the vast majority of times, that threatening character is a canon female love interest.

Open bashing has (with good reason) gone out of fashion in fandom, so the way to get characters ‘out of the way‘ is to argue an unlikeable interpretation of them. I feel like this is what happens a lot of the time with North, and with the poor writing and flat portrayal of her character in the ‘good end’ route, it’s very easy for people to take the worst of her personality, say it’s canon, and then get rid of her. This is usually a bit side-eye worthy when it happens in any fandom, but it’s extra ridiculous in DBH for one very distinct reason:

North doesn’t have to be a love interest. As I mentioned before, when I first played through I never got the ‘lovers’ scene, because North said way back when Markus first met her that she didn’t want to talk about her past and so in the scene on the roof I just didn’t ask her (and I could write another whole discussion about how no means no and pressuring someone to tell you their past is NOT how to get a romantic option with them, but that’s an issue with another time.) The rest of the game progressed completely as normal, with the only changes being a lack of kissing options in a few later scenes. There’s no reason why fic writers can’t just choose this option for their fic’s canon, and move on.

And yet I can’t tell you how many times North is an obstacle that has to be overcome in order to get Markus with Simon or Connor (because let’s be real, North, Simon, and Connor are the only major ships for Markus even though Josh is RIGHT THERE, but again that’s another topic for another time.) It’s completely unnecessary, and yet there it is: North is this unreasonable, horrible person who is terrible to [insert love interest here] and Markus has to overcome this internal struggle to break free and be with [whoever] and truly be happy.

It’s such nonsense. It’s using this ‘undesirable’ female character as a source of drama and angst for this poor sad male character to have to deal with, as opposed to taking even a moment to treat the female character as a person who might have motivations, experiences, and emotions, and I’ve seen this over and over and over in every single fandom I’ve ever been in. This isn’t a North-specific thing, it’s a female character thing, and honestly if Kara’s storyline weren’t so separate from the fandom favorite shipping characters then I think the same thing would happen to her (as opposed to her existence just being entirely ignored.) This is such a pattern in fandom that I find it very difficult to believe this is a special case where it’s somehow legitimate.

One of those reasons is that the ‘justifications’ for disliking North tend to be complete double standards between North and whatever love interest the writer is going for, whether that’s Simon or Connor. With Connor, it’s extremely obvious; almost all of North’s negative traits are traits he has to some extent as well (ruthlessness, solving problems through violence, stubbornness,) but those traits are not only not usually treated negatively in Connor (and instead are depicted as justified and necessary in context, which I’m not saying they aren’t, but that it’s unfair to say that about him and not her) but often erased entirely, leading to the obnoxiously delicate, wilting flower version of Connor that shows up in so much fic. But again, an issue for another time.

For Simon, it’s less obvious because North and Simon are quite different, but not in opposite ways; North and Josh are opposites in many respects, but Simon is, in a sense, perpendicular to the line North and Josh are at opposite ends of. Simon doesn’t have particularly strong opinions about anything, just going with the flow and being supportive; his strongest opinions are about being cautious and not taking risks. Except, of course, for that scene I mentioned before, where he outright says they should just leave North to die. For such an overall bland character, that needlessly harsh moment stands out to me and I find it kind of amazing how it’s just completely ignored, often while holding it against North that she suggested shooting Simon on the roof.

So I guess the whole point of this rant is that I wish people would think more critically about North as a character, rather than a flat archetype, especially in the context of shipping. It’s cringey and painful to see blatant flanderizing of her character for the sole purpose of being ‘able’ to ship other characters together, whether to use her as an antagonist or just to get her out of the way, when it’s completely unnecessary to begin with. It’s also very obvious where someone’s priorities and biases lie when they’re happy to write North off but then obsess over other poorly written, bland, or even outright purposefully antagonistic characters that they deem somehow to have more potential and be more worthy of attention and character development.

Overall, there’s no requirement to like a character. It’s totally fine not to like a character. But double standards and needless demonizing of a character go far beyond not liking them, and it’s important to stop and think about why it might be happening. Is it always misogyny with North? No, I don’t think so, there are definitely people who don’t like her for her traits and that’s fine. But I think it’s very telling when someone who claims to dislike North for her personality and behavior then spends time in fan works purposefully making her a villain for the benefit of drama in their pet ship. It’s even more telling when someone who claims to dislike North for her personality and behavior, yet they celebrate the potential of characters that are canonically far worse (but who just so happen to be attractive men.) And, unfortunately, both of those situations coincide quite often with vocally disliking North, and there are only so many ways to interpret such a correlation.

[pixiegrl]

You are the Sunlight, Shine on to Me

Luke and Ashton get the happy ending they deserve

I guess this is the last part of "Bloodied Up in a Bar Fight." At the very least, it's the sequel to part 3. I thought the boys deserved a soft ending, and I thought @lifewasradical deserved something nice and soft because she’s Amanda and I love her. So here you go babe, please enjoy!

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341515

Luke’s sitting at his kitchen table, drinking his coffee and scrolling through his phone when Ashton comes downstairs. Usually, Ashton’s awake first, already gone for his morning run and come back, making breakfast and laughing when Luke stumbles down the stairs, squinting and confused. Today though, Luke woke up with the sun, wide eyed and happy. He’d sat outside on the deck chairs until it got too warm. He’s been sitting inside for a while, drinking his coffee and humming quietly, waiting for Ashton. 

Ashton crosses the room, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Luke’s head. Luke preens, tilting his face up and earning a quick peck on the lips from Ashton. 

“Morning sweetheart,” he says, smiling sleepily down at Luke. Luke grins back. 

“Morning darling. Sleep well?” Luke asks, following Ashton into the kitchen. 

“Always when you’re there,” Ashton says, banging around the kitchen looking for a pot and some bowls. Luke knows he’s trying to make oatmeal, an Ashton standard meal. 

It’s been nice, relearning each other of the last few weeks. Luke’s happy he never worked up the courage to tell his mum or Michael and Calum about the breakup. He’s sure no one would have approved of them getting back together, of trying again. He’s sure they all guessed something was wrong, but neither Luke or Ashton have offered any explanation. Instead, they’ve taken the time to sit down and talk to each other. They’ve broken through whatever layers of insecurity and fear they’d had before. It’s been nice, having everything out in the open, feeling like they’re re-learning each other. It’s helped relieve whatever anxieties and fears they both have, the insecurities they clearly never talked about. 

Instead, they’ve fallen into their old routines. They alternate whose house they spend their days at and they eat dinner together most nights and now Tuesdays and Fridays are date nights. Luke reads it for what it is, a compromise to be more open about their relationship in exchange for giving Ashton time to be comfortable coming out. Luke has enjoyed it, being able to go out with Ashton and hold his hand, steal kisses when he wants, without Ashton shying away. 

“Are you going to help me or just stand there and look pretty?” Ashton teases, bumping his hip against Luke’s on his way to grab the oatmeal from the cabinet, fills the pot with it and some water. Luke laughs, snorting at the end of it. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I want to fulfill my role as trophy boyfriend,” Luke says. He goes into the fridge, pulling out an apple, before going to the cabinet to grab some raisins and honey. Ashton dances around Luke, grabbing mugs and coffee to make some for himself, more for Luke. 

It’s comfortable, standing in the kitchen, working around each other. Ashton keeps stirring the oatmeal, watching it and the coffee machine as it heats up. Luke slices up the apple, dicing it into smaller pieces to put into the oatmeal. 

“Which did you pick?” Ashton asks, gesturing to the apple. 

“Honeycrisp.” 

“Should have picked red delicious.” 

“You’re just lucky it wasn’t a green apple. You know those are my favorite.” 

“Heathen. I can’t believe you enjoy anything that tart.” 

“Well, get used to it. I’m going to let my apples infest the whole fridge if we ever live together. Get my sour gummies everywhere.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute and I love you,” Ashton says. Luke stops mid-cut, leaning over to press a kiss to Ashton’s cheek. He’s rewarded when Ashton turns his head, presses a kiss to Luke’s lips. Luke smiles, content with getting to be here with Ashton, that they’ve had the chance to try again, save their relationship. It’s terribly sappy, but Luke doesn’t think he could love anyone the way he loves Ashton, years of friendship blending into romantic love. 

“Well I love you, even if you wake me up at the crack of dawn for walks,” Luke chimes. 

“You and Petunia need fresh air and exercise,” Ashton chides. Luke rolls his eyes, dumping his knife into the sink now that the apples all cut up. 

“Rude,” Luke teases 

“Just telling you the truth. Walks are good.” 

“After breakfast?” 

“If you insist,” Ashton says. Luke giggles, grabbing their mugs and pouring out the coffee when it dings. He mixes the vanilla creamer into his coffee, taking a sip. Ashton grabs his own mug of black coffee, sipping it lightly. 

Luke sighs, happy and content. He gets close to Ashton, dropping his head to his shoulder and nuzzling his cheek against the skin. He drops an arm around Ashton’s hip, squeezing lightly, watching as Ashton keeps stirring. 

“I want to,” Ashton says, not taking his eyes off the oatmeal he’s stirring. Luke looks at Ashton in confusion. 

“Want to what?” 

“Come out. I keep thinking about our future and I don’t know what it could be like in 10 years. None of us know, but right now, getting to stand here and make breakfast, knowing we’re going to get to sit and have breakfast together, I don’t want to ever lose this. I don’t want to keep going home and leaving you. I want to wake up and know this is my home, our home. I’m not ready for marriage, but I’m ready for the first step. I don’t want to be without you again. You’re as much of my rock as I am yours.” 

“Ashton,” Luke says, pulling back to look at him in shock and awe. 

“Let me finish. I had a whole speech planned and if I don’t get it out now, I’m going to forget it all,” he says, looking at Luke. Luke nods, putting his mug down to grab onto Ashton’s arm, squeezing. Ashton smiles, turning down the heat to turn and face Luke. 

“What else is there?” 

“I want to move in with you and I know part of that entails telling the world about us. And I’m ready. You’re right, there is a fine line between privacy and hiding myself and you. I don’t want to hide our love. I don’t want to invite everyone into our personal lives, but I want to tell people. I want to hold your hand in interviews and talk about how you’re the worst morning person, but you make the best coffee. I want to be able to kiss you when we go on dates without worrying that some tabloid will leak our relationship everywhere. I want to just be with you. I want to love you openly and publicly. You’re my boyfriend, the love of my life. I almost lost you once. I don’t to be without ever again,” Ashton says, reaching out for Luke and taking his hand. 

Luke’s tearing up, eyes watering as he feels them start to run down his cheeks. He locks his fingers with Ashton’s, looks down at their hands. He imagines what it would be like to wake up every day to Ashton, knowing that he’s never leaving. He allows himself to imagine what it would be like to openly talk about Ashton, post about him, show the world how much he loves Ashton. He allows himself to feel the warmth in his chest thinking about it, to picture their lives together.

“I want that too. I love you. I don’t want to ever stop loving you,” Luke whispers, nodding. Ashton beams, sunshine in his smile as his dimples show. Luke smiles back, uses his other hand to pull Ashton into a soft kiss.

“Breakfast is gonna burn,” Ashton mumbles. Luke huffs.

“Trust you to ruin an intimate moment being practical,” Luke teases. Ashton rolls his eyes, turning back to the pot, stirring the oatmeal before it starts to burn.

“First we eat, then we can talk about things,” he says. Luke nods, reaching over to squeeze Ashton’s shoulder, kiss his temple, feels the warmth in his chest at the suggestion of talking, of a conversation, of something more.

They double post their photos the next day, after they’ve had a chance to talk it over with Michael and Calum. They go back and forth about whether they need to tell their management or their team before Michael tells them to screw it and do what makes them happy. Ashton posts one of Luke in the light of the early morning, laughing and covering his face with his hand, holding his coffee mug in his other. It’s clear from the hickies on Luke’s neck, Ashton’s shirt that he’s wearing, what the photo is. Luke posts one of Ashton he’s had saved for a while, curled up in bed, covers pulled up enough that the only thing anyone can see is his curls and his eyes, Petunia pressed against his back as she sleeps away. The only caption either of them post is a little heart. It’s enough, the opening they need to letting the world know about them. In the months to come, they’ll post something more detailed, post photos about their relationship. They’ll talk about each other in interviews, listen to Michael and Calum tease them in public. They’ll build a life around the fine line between privacy and being open about who they are. But for now, sitting in the kitchen together, talking about what they both want, talking about being open, it’s enough. 

[galahadwilder]

Hey! I'm following you for ML stuff, but I finally figured out you were into Batman as well, took me awhile. Do you have any advice on where to start for people who want to get into it? I just want to know which Robin is which when I read fanfiction hahaha. Thank youu

So the first thing to know is that there is no single Batman comic that will explain the entire Batfamily, because there are so many of them that the Manor must be running out of bedrooms by now. The second thing is that I’m not great at figuring out a starting place—a lot of comics are sort of aggressively mediocre and I can’t exactly tell the standout ones from the bad. Anyone who has any suggestions for anon, feel free to comment with them!

(In terms of fanfic recs: read literally anything by @unpretty. They are a wizard. Their fanfic is so good it has literally won awards.)

Now, a brief introduction to every member of the Batfamily that I can currently remember—save Alfred and Batman, who I am assuming you already know.

The Robins

Dick Grayson (Robin I, Nightwing II, and Batman IV). Richard John Grayson was a former child acrobat, member of the flying Graysons, and the first child adopted by Bruce Wayne. He is a human disaster of a Hufflepuff who makes terrible life choices, leaves his Nightwing costume on the floor of his apartment where literally anyone can see it, and doesn’t know how to cook anything but cereal. Despite his terrible lack of self-sufficiency, actually gives amazing life advice and is the heart and soul of the Batclan. There are villains who are willing to kill to protect him.

Jason Todd (Robin II, The Red Hood II, Red Robin I, Batman III). Jason Todd is the ballsiest Robin, having met Batman while attempting to steal the tire from the Batmobile, and, upon being confronted by the Goddamn Batman, decided the best course of action was to attack him with a tire iron. Jason is passionate and impulsive, but also extremely studious and intelligent. Well-liked despite his abrasiveness. He is the first Robin to die in the line of duty; when he came back, he and Bruce had a falling out over not killing the Joker, and now their relationship is rather shaky. Jason uses guns and has moonlighted as a crime boss in order to better control Gotham’s criminal element from the inside, which works mostly because he has nerves of steel and the ability to spin stunningly convincing bullshit at the drop of a hat.

Carrie Kelley (Robin II.5): See “Elseworlds and Future.”

Tim Drake (Robin III, Red Robin II, Drake I, Batman Beyond II): Tim has the greatest intellect of the Batclan; however, unlike Barbara (see “Batgirls”), Tim’s wisdom score is through the bloody floor. He figured out Batman and Robin’s identities on his own, and after Jason died he walked up to Bruce and basically told him “I know who you are and I’m Robin now,” which... worked. Tim is the least physically gifted of the Robins, but he makes up for it in detective skills and tactical intelligence. He was the only Robin to still have living parents outside of the Batfamily, though they were murdered soon into his career. He dropped out of high school and was acting CEO of Wayne Enterprises for a time. He has crippling depression and is implied to be suicidal.

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler I, Robin IV, Batgirl III): see under “Batgirls.”

Damian Wayne (Robin V): Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, and was raised—unbeknownst to his father—by his mother and grandfather to be an assassin, as well as to be the best at literally everything (for context: despite being a young teenager, he technically holds multiple unaccredited PHDs). However, this stunted his social development, so he is rude and abrasive almost constantly, though he has been getting better and his closest friends and family can see that he’s covering for a superiority/inferiority complex a mile deep. Damian has a constant need to prove himself and has taken up his father’s adoption habit, though he prefers animals. Animals are better than people.

Duke Thomas (Robin ??, The Signal): Duke Thomas was the first metahuman Bruce allowed into the Batfamily. Originally decided to take on The Riddler by himself at the age of... seven or so? Eventually joined a collective called “We Are Robin” and fought crime, unsanctioned. After his parents were driven mad by Joker Venom, Bruce took him in. He now fights crime in the daytime, unlike the rest of the Batfamily, using his nebulously-defined extrasensory abilities to augment his Batfamily training.

The Batgirls

Barbara Gordon (Batgirl I, Oracle I): while Tim may be the most intelligent member of the Batclan, Babs is the all-around smartest. Her intellect is damned high, and unlike most of the Batfamily, Barbara is actually capable of making good decisions. She just... decides not to, most of the time. Barbara is the daughter of Commissioner James Gordon and was the first Batgirl; she lost the use of her legs when Joker shot her in the spine, but refused to take a backseat in the Batclan’s war on crime and became Oracle, hacker extraordinaire who directs the activities of every single vigilante in Gotham from her clocktower lair. She has since regained the use of her legs and reclaimed the Batgirl mantle, turning Oracle into a living AI.

Helena Wayne (Batgirl I.5, Huntress I): see “Elseworlds and Future.”

Cassandra Cain/Wayne (Batgirl II, Black Bat I, Orphan I): Cassandra is the daughter of assassins Lady Shiva and David Cain, and had what is hands-down the worst childhood of the entire Batfamily (her father would shoot her in the leg, and if she flinched, he’d shoot her again). She was raised without spoken words, and as a result the language centers of her brain are more adapted for body language than words. This gives her a kind of combat clairvoyance where it’s nearly impossible for a human combatant to surprise her. After her first murder, she swore to never again take a life, and joined the Batclan to atone. I personally believe that she is Bruce’s favorite child and the true heir to the mantle of the Bat.

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler I, Robin IV, Batgirl III): the daughter of Arthur Brown, a criminal known as Cluemaster, Stephanie became a vigilante specifically to oppose her father and then just had a bunch of mission creep. She is brash, sarcastic, and reckless, but has oodles of passion and natural talent. DC editors hate her, so she ends up screwing up or getting pushed aside a lot, but she is much more competent than she appears and is extremely good at getting people to underestimate her.

Others

Kate Kane (Batwoman I): Kate Kane is Bruce’s cousin, dishonorably discharged from the military under “dont ask don’t tell,” though this has likely been retconned thanks to DC’s sliding timescale. She is actually specifically not connected to the Batfamily, being more of an auxiliary member by her own choice—as a military woman, she dislikes their methods and considers them sloppy. She uses guns, has her own rogues’ gallery unconnected to her cousin’s, and is extremely competent.

Jean-Paul Valley (Azrael I, Batman II): Jean-Paul believed himself to be an ordinary college student, but was in fact a genetically modified super-soldier created to punish the wicked through the use of magic and advanced technology. He eventually broke his conditioning thanks to Batman and joined the family, even taking over for Batman briefly after Bane broke his back. (This proved to be a terrible decision.) He fights using powered armor and enchanted medieval weaponry.

Harper Row (Bluebird I): I know very little about Harper except that she is openly bisexual and uses hilariously oversized sci-fi guns.

Claire Clover (Gotham Girl I): a metahuman with Superman-like abilities; however, the more she uses them, the faster her lifespan burns away. Last I checked, she was working with Bane for some reason to do bad things to Batman. Don’t know why. She’s odd.

Lonnie Machin (Anarky I, Moneyspider I): may or may not be the son of The Joker. Lonnie is a genius Anarchist, but not of the “bomb-throwing” variety—in fact, he detests bombers. Briefly acted as Tim’s Oracle, since, thanks to extensive neurological self-modification, he’s one of the few people in Gotham who is actually more intelligent than Tim is.

Helena Bertinelli (Huntress II, Batgirl briefly I think?): daughter of a crime family that got wiped out by a rival crime family. However, she didn’t know her family was mafia, and as a vigilante in Gotham ended up trying to operate under Batman’s rules. Wasn’t very good at that—she’s a bit too vicious and brutal, despite her attempts to rein herself in. Uses crossbows primarily.

Elseworlds & Future

Terry McGinnis (Batman Beyond I): the definitive future Batman. Thanks to Amanda Waller and superscience shenanigans, Terry is the biological son of Bruce Wayne. He wears a highly advanced batsuit that is closer to powered armor than a costume, which gives Iron Man a run for his money. Unlike Bruce’s obsessive preparedness, Terry’s skillset lies in improvisation.

Carrie Kelley (Robin II.5): the Robin of the dystopian timeline of The Dark Knight Returns. It’s been a while since I read DKR, so I don’t remember much about her.

Helena Wayne (Batgirl I.5, Huntress I): Bruce and Selina’s daughter from another dimension.

[welshdragonrawr]

For the Valentine's Day asks: 1-5, 7-11, 13-17, 19, 20, 22-27, 29-33, 35, 39, 41-43, 44 (fuck, marry, kill: Amanda, Audrey, Ally), 47-49 pleeeeeeease?? I know I said I wouldn't request a million but I'm a curious bean hehe ;)

Seeing as it is actually Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d finally answer these. Under the cut, because it’s a loooooong post and I didn’t want to overtake peeps’ dash. Well here goes;

(Also, the post format messed up, but I couldn’t be bothered to fix them because this already took ages so they’re just in the order asked and I bolded answers so they stand out)

do you have a crush on anyone? - I do indeed, and I am fairly certain they are well aware of it ;)

what’s your favorite candy? - It changes all the time because I have such a sweet tooth but right now chocolate-wise it’s probably cadbury or kinder chocolate, and actual candy probably haribo (tangfastics to be precise)

favorite love song? - There are too many to choose from or list here but right now it’s probably still ‘Wasteland Baby’ by Hozier, You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, or for entirely cheesy reasons a certain someone might know Hero by Enrique Iglesias 

what was your first kiss like? - Terrible because I didn’t know what I was doing and was with entirely the wrong person at the wrong time and I didn’t know it then

what was your last kiss like? - If it’s the one I’m allowed to think of in this context, pretty damn good ;)

do you prefer poems or love letters? - Both - I can’t decide, because I love anything remotely like that, when someone goes to the length of composing something like either of those because they were thinking of me? Incredible! 

favorite fanfic trope? - Slow-Burn if that counts, with a side order of fake dating or mutual pining, potentially both at once heheh 

have you ever been in love? Mayyyybeeee, maybe I aaaaam, I’ll just have to let you ponder that one ;)

favorite milkshake flavor? - Chocolate brownie, even if I can’t have too much because then it gets sickly but in small quantities? Yesssss! Or cookies&cream in any variation

dinner dates or brunch dates? - This one was tough because I don’t really have any experience with either, but I think Brunch dates, and not just because I would have much much less anxiety about awkward food ordering and stuff, plus I feel like Brunch dates have much less formal expectation about them, and you have the rest of the day after to do more things if you want to!

favorite perfume/cologne?  - Probably the Ghost one that has a bottle shaped like the moon, or Good Girl by Caroline Herrera (the bottle looks like a high heel?)

favorite candle scent? - There’s a seasonal Yankee Candle one they do around Christmas time that I cannot remember the name of for the life of me right now, but it’s just the right kind of sweetness in the air when you have it burning for a lil while? If I ever remember what it is I’ll come back and edit this post haha

what’s your ideal first date? - I’m not really sure, because all types of dates make me nervous especially first dates haha. I’d like to leave it up to the other person to decide what we do, as long as I could treat them in some way with whatever it is/wherever we go? 

favorite love story? - Are we talking classics or fandom or...? What currently springs off the top of my head though is Hades & Persephone - I’m convinced he didn’t ‘steal her’ to be a dick, he stole her away to somewhere cool and calm away from the pressures and terrors of life on the surface so she could catch her breath for a couple months, and can we blame her? And he makes her his Queen, like - if he was gonna be mean, he could have made her his slave, or his concubine or his pet or something, but instead he gave her his whole world to rule with him. Sounds like a better guy than that bastard ol’ Zeus, no? (Historians/Classics students please don’t fight me) 

what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear? - Happiness. Doesn’t matter to me whether you’re wearing a trash bag, or a Chanel dress or your faded ol’ pjs or not a single thread. So long as you’re happy and you’ve got that glow about you and that bright shine in your eyes? Yeah..

snow, rain, or sun? -  I love all three for different reasons (I’m indecisive, don’t judge me, or do) give me a snow day with my dog or my lover with hot chocolate and snowmen and flurries out the window, or an afternoon reading inside while it rains with blankets and a cup of tea, or a sunny afternoon walk with just the right amount of cool breeze to keep it balmy but bright? Yes please. But again, if I had to choose, probably rain... Because I live in England for one thing, but there’s something so comforting about the rain.

sweetest romantic memory? - My partner at the time took me to a second-hand bookshop and let me browse the stacked shelves as long as I liked, and I found a hardback copy of a book by a fave author but it was too expensive so just admired it and put it back, then when my birthday rolled around 2 weeks later, they turned up with that same book they had gone back for without telling me as a surprise gift

fictional crushes? - Cordelia Goode, Theo Crain, Mildred Ratched, I could keep listing but that means we’d be here forever and if you’ve been following me long enough you probably already know anyway...

what’s your dream wedding like? - This would need a whole post on its own to answer if I could actually be decisive and sit down with some thought over it. But alas... I don’t really know, I’d like things to be somewhat fancy and romantic, but I’d also like for it not to feel all stuffy and super serious like, that everyone can have fun and be a little goofy and a little merry and not have to worry about oh am I doing this certain thing right or feeling all self-conscious while dancing. So I’m not really sure how to narrow it down into specific details or events...? Except, there’s a really dumb nerdy part of me that wants to be able to do the cake slicing with a sword rather than a knife. Because reasons. 

what makes you blush? - Too much. Usually compliments. 

do you believe in love at first sight? - I believe in *attraction* at first sight, and *affection* you find or work for later. 

do you believe in soulmates? - Yeah, but I also believe a soulmate doesn’t have to be someone you’re in love with or a romantic partner, a soulmate can just as easily be a friend you keep on keeping on through this silly little game of life with, y’know? You’ve both been dealt shitty hands, but you’d be willing to share each others cards to get through, and some other cheesy af analogies...

denim jackets, leather jackets, or bomber jackets? - Leather jackets, tho technically I have worn and do wear all three so - I hoard jackets like some people hoard shoes and handbags, it’s a problem

are you single? - if you know you know, and that’s the that on that ;)

do you prefer to charm, or be charmed? - Both? I love to see the look on a partners face when they’re charmed, all blushing and cute and sparkly eyes and big smiles - I think I like to be charmed too but I would also get suuuuper awkward and not sure what to do with it or in response to it because I’m not used to being on the receiving end of attention like that?

guitar or piano? - I love both, and girls who can play either/both are heavensent sirens who can have me under their spell for hours (I think it’s the hand thing again, see?) but if I had to choose it would have to be Piano.

favorite romcom (or any romantic movie)? - Um... Does Love & Other Drugs count? Or Imagine Me And You - I’m not big on too many ‘traditional’ rom-coms because they make me cringe way too often, and often not in a good way, but there’s sometimes the odd one I enjoy! (Though I must admit, being British, Bridget Jones and Love Actually are like, historical treasures so...)

do you fall in love easily? - Nope. I mean, do I love people easily? Yeah I try to give the best of myself to the people I cherish as much as possible. But do I *fall in love* easily? Nah, takes a while before this oblivious lil heart realises it.

would you prefer to propose or be proposed to? what’s your dream proposal? - Oh gosh, honestly, I don’t know... I’m one of those people that *love* to do anything and everything to bring a smile to my partner’s face and make them happy and there’s just something so magical about seeing their face light up and their eyes sparkle, y’know? So I feel like I would want to do that by giving them the perfect proposal for them (but on the flipside this means I would also be incredibly *terrified* of ever doing it remotely wrong/not exactly how they wanted it, or getting the wrong kind of ring or all of that plethora of details and minutiae that could be messed up ahha). But also, I kinda wouldn’t mind being proposed to either? Like I’m so used to taking care of other people, it might be nice, at the risk of sounding like a bad pokemon promo. to have that validation of someone else saying ‘I choose you’ y’know? As for dream proposal, much like dream wedding, I’m not entirely sure? As long as it’s memorable and with the one I love? (Which is such a cop-out answer) I honestly don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it, probably because I never really thought it was happen so I figured why think about something that’s never gonna happen ahhah. Somewhere picturesque I guess? So I could really capture the picture in my mind for the rest of my lifen, not like for a social media photo post or any of that shit but just for myself to look back on, if any of that essay ramble makes any sense. 

kittens or puppies? - How DARE- Nope. It’s both. I’m sorry but it’s both. They are both adorable AF and I will love and pet and cherish them all. 

favorite soda? - Cola I guess? And don’t try to rope me into the Pepsi V Coke thing, because honestly I like both for different reasons and choosing one over the other seems silly when either of them tastes good if you’ve got enough whiskey or rum in them ;) 

do you prefer gazing wistfully out the window or lying dramatically over the sofa? - I rather like doing both tbf, but if I’m gonna be honest, give me ‘cosied up under a blanket, with a mug of hot tea/coffee gazing wistfully out the window at whatever weather is going on outside, any day.

favorite ABBA song? - How dare you - umm... Slipping Through My Fingers or The Winner Takes It All because I am at heart a soppy dramatic fool.

fuck/marry/kill? (anons name 3 people of your choice) - You meanie, how dare you make me decide such a thing. Buuuut Fuck Ally (cuz you just *know* that canon wlw got some mooooves), Marry Amanda (because she seems like someone I could get along with in all the day to day stuff y’know? Like, I could settle down with her, you feel me?) and don’t hate me but you asked the question but Kill Audrey (*runs and hides*)

do you think about love a lot? - Yeah, I think so, in all its different incarnations. As a writer I’m kinda obligated to? But I think I think about it even when I’m not super aware of it or the reasons for or why. 

a walk in the park or a walk on the beach? - It’s a tough once because I love it when the light filters *just so* through trees and looks so pretty, but the beach has the lapping waves and soft sand to walk on and pretty colours at sunsets and sharing ice creams/chips/doughnuts/pretzels and- Yeah so beach probably.

hand kisses or nose kisses? - Hand kisses, fo’sho, because haaaands

[jupitermelichios]

So I decided to rewatch Suicide Squad and I have some thoughts...

This isn’t really a review so much as it’s just a series of thoughts and impressions. I will say that while it’s still one of the worst made films I’ve ever seen, it’s never boring, which is by far the biggest sin a film can commit. It’s bullshit but it’s consistently interesting bullshit which makes it better than something like Fant4stic, which is as bad and incoherant but also just incredibly dull. I don’t think this could ever have been a good film, there was too much massively wrong with it before shooting even started to have been salvagable, but I do think it could have been a lot more coherant if it hadn’t been for the reshoots, re-edits, re-edits of re-edits and all the the other stuff that happened to it post production. Unlike something like BvS, I get why some people liked this one.

On that note, while I am going to end on a few possitives this basically a roast so if you don’t want to read about a film getting picked apart, this probably won’t be your jam. But if like me you find critiques of bad movies cathartic, read on. I’m not the first person to do this, but I’ve spotted some stuff I haven’t seen anyone else talk about so hopefully there’ll be something new for you.

All the dialogue is just slightly off in a way that’s hard to pin down, in the way that a lot of comprehensible stuff written by computers and neural networks is just slightly off. It’s got that phishing email or pornbot quality to it. Literally the fourth or fifth line in the film is Griggs saying about the prison rations, “...Everything a growing young man needs like you”, which isn’t nonsense, but is clearly wrong, and a lot of the lines have that quality to them.

In a similar vein, Deadshot’s daughter is written like she’s five or six, but the actress looks about twelve. I actually went and checked how old she was when this released, because I know white people are often wildly bad at judging the ages of black kids and I’m bad at judging ages in general, but no, she was 12 or 13 when this was shot, so why’s she written like a toddler? She doesn’t give a good performance (which is not the actresses fault, Will Smith barely gives a good performance in this and he can do this shit in his sleep, there’s no way a kid could have risen above the terrible script and direction) which makes it even worse, because you’ve got this pre-teen delivering dialogue written for a kindergardener in a way that feel like it’s maybe the first time she’s ever seen the script, and it makes what is otherwise one of the most competant scenes in the movie feel just as off as everything else.

The Joker. A lot of people have written a lot about Leto’s Joker but I want to add two things to the discussion I haven’t seen talked about much before. Firstly, before the electro-shock torture and acid bath, he and Harley have no romance. Like, explicitly, there is no romance, or even cammeraderie there. He’s her patient. She’s his jailer. He didn’t seduce her, he just tortured her until she gave in. That’s literally shown in the film. Even after the torture when she’s now on side he still really doesn’t like her, and not in a Paul Dini BTAS he doesn’t like her but he also wants her around kind of way. He doesn’t want her in his life. He orders her to leave him alone and she fucking stalks him. That’s not even subtext, she is specifically his stalker, because apparently the solution to the relationship being abusive was to retconn Harley into also being a creep as though that somehow solves something.

Secondly, Joker isn’t smart. Not only is he no longer emotionally intelligent (and comics Joker is many terrible things but he’s probably the most emotionally intelligent character in DC, that’s a lot of what makes him so dangerous because it’s how he manipulates people) he’s not intelligent full stop. His great plan for breaking out of Arkham? Some of his goons from the outside literally just shoot their way in to get to him. Even leaving aside the fact that Arkham apparently isn’t set up to deal with that kind of violence in this world despite Batman having been opperating for a decade, that’s not a clever plan, and it’s not Joker’s plan. 'Hope some of my dudes are loyal enough to come get me’ isn’t any kind of escape plan, and nothing we see after that point suggests that this was a moment of weakness. Joker just straight up isn’t very bright in this, which is weird because that’s one of the few genuinely consistent character traits he has. He’s no Riddler, sure, but he’s really smart and that makes him hard to contain.

Ayer made Harley functionally a sex worker in this, and it doesn’t actually matter that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with sex work or that sex work is real work, because David Ayer definitely thinks there is, and also really really hates women. David Ayer hates women so goddamn much. The only thing Slipknot does in the entire film apart from die is hit a woman just for being a woman.

When Waller arrives at Belle Reve, Croc is doing push ups. And that’s fine, it’s a classic movie shorthand for ‘bored prisoner is also fit and strong’, but the actor isn’t actually doing pushups. He’s got one knee tucked under his body to support his weight, and is clearly actually just sort of bobbing his head. What I suspect happened is that the prosthetics on his arms and chest were too heavy to allow that kind of movement, which would tie up with the stiff way he holds his arms throughout the film, but he’s not even bothering to pretend very hard and it adds to this pervading sense of off-kilter wrongness the film has.

Rick Flagg is supposed to be ‘the best special forces opperative this country has’, but he’s... really bad? He’s no use in any of the fights, he’s incapable of working with a team and has zero interpersonal skills, and when he’s assigned to be a bodyguard, he immediately starts fucking his client which is like, bodyguarding rule 1. He’s really bad at his job. (Which would be fine if the explanation was that he’s a fucking psychopath who’s 100% willing to just murder a civilian in the line of duty, but he’s meant to be Hannibal Smith more than Dirty Harry, and also if he is here because he’s a psychopath, why did Amanda Waller assume June Moon would be into that?!) He even has to be blackmailed into joining the opperation, so he’s incompetent, unprofessional, causes unecessary conflict, and isn’t even loyal to the project, so why him and not, I don’t know, literally any other character?

On the subject of June Moon, she goes (alone) on an archeological dig in a rainforest somewhere, finds a cave full of human remains and ancient artefacts, and literally her first action is to deliberately smash one of the artefacts, presumably just to see what would happen? IDK! We never get any explanation for that, but it’s definitely meant to be deliberate and not accidental when she smashes it! Why are archeologists in movies all so terrible?!

People have joked a lot about the fact that the movie changes the purpose of the squad from ‘plausibly deniable black ops, especially on American soil’, to ‘punching Superman’ but kept Captain Boomerang on the team, but there is actually an explanation given. A really really stupid explanation. Amanda Waller says that he’s there because ‘he faced down a metahuman and survived’, referring to him surviving being arrested. By the Flash. Who is famously non violent, and in fact in the next film in the series specifically says he’s never fought someone. So Boomer is on the team because he didn’t die when Flash picked him up and carried him to a police station, and Amanda Waller thinks that’s some kind of achievement. Like that isn’t the case for literally everyone the Flash has ever caught. And Flash is a street level hero, so that’s a whole lot of muggers and purse snatchers who are apparently capable of fist fighting Superman by Waller’s logic.

(On the same note as the Joker, Waller is also now incredibly stupid, but she’s mostly stupid for plot related reasons, so it sort of gets a pass? It gets more of a pass than the Joker at least, because making him comics-smart wouldn’t have necessatitated changing anything else about the film)

Re: Waller’s stupidity, her whole plan for recruiting El Diablo to the squad is... show him a video of him setting fire to some dudes. That’s it. She doesn’t even speak to him, she literally just holds up the video to the little window in his tank and seems surprised when that by itself isn’t enough.

And then when Flagg is like ‘hey let me try persuading him with actual arguments instead of just a weird video’, Diablo’s response is “You think you’re the first person to ask? I won’t do it. I’m a man not a weapon”, which gives us the amazing insight that in Ayer’s version of the DCU, there are apparently just... other Taskforce Xs running around. Other government agencies recruiting metahuman soldiers. So what exactly was the point of the half an hour or so of footage of her persuading the brass to go along with it? Because apparently they’re fine with this if every agency is doing it!

Tone? What even is tone. Griggs both has an antagonist but banter-y relationship with and brings cookies to the prisoners, but also he tortures them and is implied to be sexually abusing Harley, and like... you can’t have it both ways, Ayer. This is a one or the other situation. They can’t have a fun and jokey relationship with a man who is explicitly torturing and abusing them. Tone. You need to pick a fucking tone!

The decision to add a subplot about Deadshot being involved in a custody battle with his ex-wife was a fascinatingly terrible choice, and honestly tells you a lot about Ayer’s relationship to MRA talking points. Like, we know nothing about Deadshot’s wife except that she raised a cute well adjusted kid, so probably a pretty good parent, and that she doesn’t want her daughter to be spending time with a MASS MURDERER! So definitely a good parent! The comics just kind of handwave away Zoe’s mom most of the time, which was the right choice, because Ayer wants us to be on Deadshot’s side here, but it’s literally a choice between "a serial killer but you take credit cards” and a normal loving parent and somehow he thinks serial killer is the right answer? WTF happened in Ayer’s life that he thinks this is a choice where we side with Deadshot?! And it’s not even visitation rights or anything, Deadshot wants full custody. And the film thinks he’s in the right!

Not once, at any job I have ever had, one of which was a tourist attraction that required all visitors to wear a pass, have I ever seen someone wear a visitors pass on their sleeve. Not once. And it’s honestly such a good summary of the pervading wrongness of this film. This doesn’t feel like it was made by people. It feels like it was made by middlingly intelligent algorithms trying to pass as human.

Someone please tell me what the fuck any of this set is supposed to mean. The pose feels deliberate, but it’s not invoking anything I can see except the hanged man from the Ryder-Waite tarot deck, the halo of knives almost looks like it’s pseudo-religious imagery except that it’s not a full halo, the circle is incomplete on one side because of a broken piano, does the piano mean something? What about the babygrows, do they mean something? Does the Joker... want kids? Kill kids? Think Harley’s pregant? What the hell is any of this supposed to mean, and if, as I suspect, it was never supposed to mean anything why the fuck did they go to the trouble of making it?! What exactly does the hours this took to put together add to the movie?

David Ayer has a really weird relationship with both gang culture and latino gang culture specifically. He always feels the need to shoehorn them in somehow, and it’s this weird love-hate relationship where he apparently thinks latino gangs are so cool they have to be in everything, but is also so fucking racist he’s incapable of having a latino character who isn’t in a gang. Also in order to shoehorn them in here, he basically removed all of Joker’s henchmen (except for one scene which serves no narrative purpose) and replaced when with generic racist-stereotype LA gangs.

The fact that Griggs just hands Harley the phone in front of all the other guards and soliders was A Choice. Made even more so by the fact that Griggs never actually pay off. He gives Harley the phone, she tells him he’s “so screwed now”, and then... nothing. He’s just gone for the rest of the movie. He’s not even in the epilogue back in prison scenes.

I fucking love that the first thing Waller does is tell the world’s best assassin her real name. That is just... *chefs kiss* Everyone in this film is so fucking stupid.

I knew it was coming. I knew it was coming and I remembered the line perfectly, and I still had to stop the film because I was laughing too hard for “Ah would advise naht gettin’ killed by her, her sword traps the souls of its victims”. It’s the ‘that wizard came from the moon’ of film dialogue, and no one could have made it work, but the southern accent is really what makes that line delivery. I don’t know why, there’s just something about it in that drawl that it just endlessly hilarious.

It really is impressive how every character in this manages to be an offensive stereotype, sometimes multiple offensive stereotypes at once.

I love how Flagg’s right-hand woman is a samurai with a magical possessed sword that traps the souls of the damned who also isn’t military and refuses to speak English most of the time, but the squad are too weird for him. “You won’t believe it, this guy Boomerage, he’s got these bent stick things, and when he throws them they come back! I am freaking out, I can’t deal with this. Oh hi Katana, trap any damned souls lately?”

Harley is explicitly malicious in this in a way no other version of Harley has ever been, which is a Freudian nightmare when you combine it with her also being more sexualised than ever, and more infantalised than any version outside the Arkham games. Someone get Ayer a goddamn therapist. (Also in the vein of everyone being dumb in this, Harley is now an absolutely terrible psychiatrist and all her diagnoses are explicitly wrong, so that’s fun.)

The fucking pink unicorn-bundle of money switcheroo. There’s nothing to say on it that hasn’t already been said but holy shit. How do you fuck something up that bad? How? It’s like looking into Chekov’s nightmares and finding a pink stuffed unicorn staring back.

I love the way the soliders just come and go in this. Are they dead, are they alive, have they abandonned the cause? Why the fuck knows? Certainly not the editors!

I love how we’re supposed to be really sad about El Diablo being dead, but not care that Croc is seemingly directly underneath the explosion and definitely about to die, that’s fun.

I need to know if it was Ayer or Cara Delavigne’s choice to make Enchantress be just.. doing a little dance. Duing all the ‘tense’ moments. Because there are probably things which undercut tension more than the bad guy having a bit of boogy, but not many.

Enchantress gets so many costume changes, and I want to believe that they’re all from different versions of the film but I honestly think it was deliberate and I need someone on in the design department for this movie to tell me why because it add nothing.

I think the best thing about the stupidly on the nose liscenced soundtrack is that it just disappears once they arrive in Midway city. After spirit in the sky it’s original music all the way until the final scene. The great soundtrack DC stans insist this film has is literally only in the first 50 minutes and the last 2 of a 2hr+ movie.

The glorification of abuse in this is... seriously fucking something else. Twilight doesn’t have a patch on this. 50 Shades of Grey doesn’t have a patch on this. This shit is disgusting, and the fact that they pushed so hard to get it a child friendly rating is just morally bankrupt.

Possitive note to end on:

The dialogue is way too on the nose and exposition dump-y but the scene in the bar works pretty well. It fulfils its role in the story, and gives us a decent dose of team bonding.

Deadshot and Harley have great chemistry, and Boomer is perfectly cast, in a way that makes me really hopeful for James Gunn’s take on the team. A writer who knows how to write friendships could do a lot with the three of them, and they’ve been the core squad since 2011 so they’re the ones who matter. It probably helps that whatever Will Smith’s faults as an actor, you could cast him opposite a housebrick and they’d somehow have great chemistry.

[queenrhenpendragon]

You know whose arc gets me every time?

Dameon’s. Dameon Maurva's arc is so beautiful and significant and affects not only himself but multiple other characters and also the entire heckin plot of the game and it moves me Every. Single. Time.

So I’m going to rant  about it, welcome to the post I’ve been waiting to make for fourteen years.

First of all, this precious sun, this dear one, this absolute angel, was most likely raised mainly by an Ahriman sympathizer-- like, c'mon, am I supposed to believe Talia kept a child in the dream realm? Even without the nightmares it's dangerous, and very isolated. If something were to happen there would be nowhere she could send Dameon while she dealt with it. It’s one thing in fanfiction, but when I actually consider the logistics, either she was a truly terrible, irresponsible parent, or Dameon lived in Aveyond with his father. I've played Ahriman’s Prophecy; responsibility is Talia's middle name. Dameon was raised in Aveyond.

He has to have been a lonely child. He most likely had no human friends, and definitely none his age. Maybe the binis or fairies or sometimes Vata babysat him when Mr. Maurva was unavailable. Maybe not. Either way, such contact couldn’t replace his need for love and validation from his incredibly busy and important parents.

He probably constantly sought his parents' approval and was constantly falling short because how do you impress an immortal sun priest, millenia old and the last of his kind? Especially one who is apparently becoming disenchanted with the ideals he once fought for, the ideals his fellow priests died for. How do you impress a half-fairy who saved the world at the tender age of 17, who then became the Guardian of Dreams and is responsible for the safety and well being of every mortal creature? Especially! When! You only see them when they’re not busy keeping the universe running smoothly!

Furthermore. 

Please understand that I love Talia and do not wish to vilify her in any way. I point out her flaws because I love her, because her shortcomings are so human and tragic and are part of what make the story as impactful as it is. And Talia... does not easily express affection. She is not likely to have cuddled Dameon during the times his father took him to the Dreamworld-- which just can't have been often, I just can't imagine a parent who even kind of cared about their child taking them to such a place frequently. She is not likely to have praised him or spent any notable amount of time showing interest in his interests. I do not say this to condemn her. She had a lot of responsibilities. She had never been a mother before-- and yes, she had a great example of motherhood in her Grandmama, but her own mother also left her in the care of others, abandoned her to pursue a louder call. Is it any wonder that she ultimately did the same to her own child?

She has no real relationship with Dameon. Even without all the evidence I have already laid out, this much is obvious in the way they speak to and about each other. Talia doesn't even mention Dameon is her son when she first tells Rhen about him. She gives him no more than an epithet, "Dameon, the sun priest." She does not express particular concern over his safety, even though she knows the druids are in danger and she herself was almost killed. 

And Dameon calls her “mother,” and it is not because of the dialogue style of the game. Talia calls her parental figure “Grandmama.” Rhen calls Tailor “Pa” and “Daddy,” and Ma is known only as “Ma.” But Dameon calls Talia “Mother,” and his father “Father,” because that is the level of familiarity between them. The Maurvas live a strict, solitary life. Is it any wonder that Dameon is stiff and formal at the beginning? Is it any wonder he struggles to connect with others beyond a thoughtful compliment or an antiquated form of greeting? He doesn’t like himself, let alone trust himself. No one has ever taught him how to. He is so isolated, and lonely, and touch-starved, and unloved, and if that was the end of his character it would still move me. But there is more.

Talia literally killed his father, her own husband. It had to have happened when Dameon was still very young. If you take into account Devin’s apparent age, and the fact that a barely-aged Jack in av2 remembers Alicia as queen of Thais when we know that you can only ascend to the throne of Thais if you are married, and a few other details which I would be happy to pull up if anyone is interested, you will realize that Dameon can’t possibly be more than a year older than Rhen. More likely, he is younger, and this would be in line with the other canon ships we see throughout the Aveyond series.

 And we found out in Rhen’s Quest that his father was murdered “many years ago.” MANY! YEARS! He was still a child, maybe 11 years old, at my best guess. He most likely hadn’t even attended a magic school yet. It’s possible he wasn’t even thinking about it. And then he had to take the position as Druid of Light. When he was a child, still mourning the death of the person most precious to him, at the hands of the only other person he could have had any semblance of a relationship with in all of Aia.

The people who were supposed to be teaching Dameon how to be gentle, loyal, and upright instead taught him how to hurt, and betray, and murder those closest to him. Even without Ahriman's influence, how is a child raised in that environment supposed to turn out healthy and good? 

And yet he is still good! He is gentle and thoughtful towards not just Rhen but everyone he meets on the quest. That includes heckin MAD MARGE if you forgot. That includes an actual ogre. That includes people who are spiteful and dismissive towards him. He treats Rhen like she outranks him, the Guardian of the Sun, when she is still a peasant with a practice sword. He is kind to literally everyone except Talia, and he is at least respectful even to her. He never raises his voice at her. He never calls her anything except Mother. Never traitor, never murderer, never any of the curses we know Amanda had no qualms about using because she used them plenty in AP. Just Mother. 

In fact he appears to be the reason Ahriman decided against killing Talia. Yes, Dameon wants justice for his murdered father. I think anyone who is being honest with themselves can admit they would, too. But he doesn’t want to kill her. He doesn’t want her to die. He just wants her to understand what she did, to understand the hurt she caused. He is apparently so against killing her that Ahriman has to change his carefully laid plans before he can convince Dameon to change sides.

And consider. During all of this, Dameon is literally possessed by Ahriman, or under his demonic influence, or however you want to phrase it. This influence likely began even before the game, but even if you ignore that, it is no small thing. Remember how quickly Mel became corrupted under this influence? Remember how quickly Galahad, who resisted the urge to drink blood for actual centuries, became corrupted? The fact that Dameon has any shred of goodness at all, after years of exposure to such darkness, even if you ONLY take into account the actual duration of the game, is evidence that Rhen is right; Dameon has a genuinely good, incredibly strong heart.

And speaking of that conversation. Please allow me to share some of my favorite screenshots in the entirety of the series. 

My precious sun really went from this: 

To having this very level-headed and respectful conversation, of which I have shared only two tiny snippets:

To THIS:

This. Is tangible, real difference, at a rate which makes sense, and I am so proud of him. I have seen people try to dismiss it, and his other development, by saying he is just pretending in order to make Rhen trust him. That literally. Does not make any sense. First of all, if this was part of his efforts to persuade Rhen to join Ahriman he would have done absolutely anything except agree that perhaps Talia was right. He would have tried to convince Rhen that Ahriman was right, not admitted he may have been wrong. And second, even if you ignore that incredibly obvious discrepancy, he either would have forgotten about the conversation with Rhen by the time they returned to the sun shrine and his mother asked him the question again, or he would have pretended to have forgiven her completely. Instead, he acts as though he is uncertain, because he is uncertain. 

And his actions in the dream realm, confronting and fighting Agas for attacking his mother and desecrating her shrine, prove that he is sincere. Of course it takes him some time. Of course he hesitates. Forgiving someone for taking your parent from you is an enormous act. Forgiving someone you trusted for causing you that much pain is unfathomable. His progress is profound and inspiring and does not deserve to be treated like any less.

And he makes this progress while still under Ahriman’s influence! Can you even imagine! Aasgakadgjlkjklj. He tries to do what he believes is right even at the cost of those things most precious to him, his beliefs and ideals and the sacred memory of the person who raised him. ONE conversation prompts him to question everything. While Ahriman still has possession of him. I cannot even begin to comprehend being that brave. And this is just one small example.

I have seen many negative, unfair evaluations of the fairy dust scene. It is deeply tragic to me that such an important, eloquent, beautiful symbol could be so widely misunderstood. I have tried to explain it before. Allow me to indulge myself once again. 

Fairy dust always reveals the truth. This effect is well established, not just in Rhen’s Quest but even in Ahriman’s Prophecy. It heals physical wounds (aka HP) and reveals the truth, and that’s all. There is never any indication that it can change hearts or magically “goodify” anyone or anything. It is not a deus ex machina. It was included specifically to exclude the possibility of that interpretation. It only reveals the truth, and if Dameon had already been aware of the truth, or if he truly honestly wanted the same things Ahriman wanted, it would have changed exactly nothing.  That’s why Rhen’s choice to use it is so significant. It shows that she trusts him, as he is. She knows that he has a good heart and will do what is right when he knows what that is; she has been saying so for the whole game. In the final battle she gets the chance to prove she believes that.

And she does. 

And she’s right. 

When the truth is revealed to Dameon, he follows it, at the cost of his chance for justice, at the cost of living forever, safely, with the one person who has ever shown him any significant amount of affection, at the cost of everything he ever dared to want in his short, lonely, miserable life. While still under Ahriman’s demonic influence! Ahriman is still in his head! And he chooses to resist even though it means he will lose everything. 

Now, this whole plot could have worked without the fairy dust. Previous cutscenes in the game have already proven that Dameon listens to Rhen. The screenshots I included are just a few examples of this; trust me, I could go on for a while. Dameon believes her and believes in her and trusts her, where he doesn’t trust himself. Amanda could have had Rhen just tell him what to do. Rhen could have had another conversation, told Dameon to switch back, and that would be that. It would be consistent and believable with what had happened in the game thus far.

Except then Dameon still wouldn’t trust himself, or like himself. He would still be lonely and self-loathing and miserable, or even if he wasn’t, there would be plenty of room for that interpretation. 

But instead Rhen gives him a choice. Instead Amanda makes it clear that his redemption is not Rhen’s responsibility, or her decision, or her doing at all. All Rhen does is throw the fairy dust, and then lets Dameon realize what is right, and choose for himself what action he will take. She gives him the opportunity to trust himself, to believe in himself, for perhaps the first time in his life. She makes it clear that she believes in him. She gives him the support he’s been starving for his entire existence, and then she steps back, and let’s him choose.

This part is so significant for her arc, too. I have ranted about it elsewhere but allow me to sum up: Rhen has spent the game feeling like she doesn’t have a choice, and questioning her own judgement and her own significance. Dameon is the first to give her a choice, one which she seriously considers. She realizes she’s always had a choice. And she finally acts on her own judgement, without prompting from anyone else (in fact, without prompting even from the player, because as you might recall the choice the player is offered has always been “fight Dameon,” and yet Rhen never lifts a finger against him). She trusts her own heart and invites Dameon to trust his. She has always been a hero but this is the moment she really steps fully into the role. She saves herself. And then she gives Dameon the choice to do the same. 

And they fight Ahriman, at staggering personal costs. Dameon fights while, again, still under Ahriman’s influence. He has to fight Ahriman physically and mentally, or spiritually, or all of them, most likely. He is not free until Rhen plunges the Sword of Shadows through Ahriman’s heart.

This part. I cry every time and I am crying thinking about it. Dameon has been a prisoner for likely as long as he can remember. His father supported Ahriman. He likely let that influence into the sun shrine. He let it affect Dameon. Dameon has likely never known a life without that darkness. Or if he did, he was too young to remember it. And now, finally, he is free. There is light for the first time. And because Rhen gave him a choice, he has the confidence and experience to stay free, to make himself and be proud of himself and not be just what he thought his parents wanted. 

His gratitude to Rhen is profound. He has always been respectful and supportive of her, he has always listened to her and trusted her, as demonstrated during their first conversation when she meets him in Aveyond, and their conversations in the manor in Sedona, and every other tiny interaction they have. He looks up to her immensely.

And I think that is part of why he is so resolute about continuing in his role as the Druid of Light. Rhen has spent the game shouldering responsibilities that no one else could or would. Being the Guardian of the Sun is his responsibility, and he is determined to follow her example. 

It is also the only thing he has ever known.

In the midst of his own uncertainty, still reeling from his own losses, resigned to a lonely eternity in his childhood prison, he still offers Rhen his support and devotion. This is before she ever makes her choice. He listens to her, sympathizes with her, and encourages her. He loves her, explicitly, out loud in canon dialogue, in literally. Every ending. No matter what she chooses. Nobody ever taught him how to love and yet he does it so scrupulously. 

And in the canon ending, the True Ending as many of us like to call it, he finally, finally gets a chance to grow beyond his family’s legacy. To love someone and be there for her. To be adored by her. To be happy. To make a difference. To live a good life and die of old age and be buried beside his best friend and true love, and to face the shadowy unknowns of the afterlife together.  And he accepts it, in an instant. 

This is redemption not only for himself but for Talia, and Nino. All the Maurvas with their good intentions, who never got to see their happy ending because another call was too strong. Talia gets a second chance to watch her son grow, this time in a kinder world. And she gets a second chance with one of her dearest friends. Nino's legacy of absence and broken trust is finally set right. They all get a second chance to become who they intended to be, before they heard the calls they could not ignore. All because Dameon chose truth and love over every other voice, at every cost. 

It was a very fairy-like thing to do. In overcoming his families' legacy, he steps into their true heritage. Aian Fairies value truth and love most of all. 

There is an inscription on the statue that guards the fairies in AP.  It has always resonated with me and I think it will help describe what I mean here:

Heart of gold thy secret guards

Love, felicity, light

Gaia's precious children

I am moved. I do not know a better way to say it. Dameon Maurva inspires me, and comforts me. His example has made me a better person. He has made me a happier person. I am so grateful to Amanda for being brave enough to tell the story she did, and being brave enough to stick by it. Her story changed my life and I honestly, truly do not believe I would be here without it. Her story saved my life, and I can never praise it enough.

[mychemicalficrecs]

sorry to bother you but do you know of any fics like the unholyverse??? i read it and absolutely loved it & would like to read somethinh similar lol

Hi there!

Tbh I kind of haven't (yet) 😅There's a whole bunch of fic with religious themes, horror and/or supernatural elements though, I'm sure you'll find something interesting!

Here's a link to the Unholyverse series again for everyone interested.

And just for the record: you're not a bother, I love making these lists!

If You Liked Unholyverse...

Not A Saint by happilyappled, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Explicit. Father Way is not just a priest and Frank is not just any other man.

Tell Me I'm an Angel by SeraphStarshine, Frank/Gerard, 205k, Mature. Gerard thought that committing suicide would finally end it: no more pain, no more sorrow - nothing. The last thing he expected was to wake up in Hell, reborn as a demon under Lucifer’s control. He is planning on ending himself - for good this time - when he runs into an angel named Frank. Even though it is forbidden, he can’t resist spending time with him, and before he even realizes what is happening, he has fallen in love with this mysterious angel. Little does he know that their innocent romance is a part of something much greater which could ignite an all-out war between Heaven and Hell.

Father Way. by Frnk, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Not Rated. Father Way was the youngest priest in the parish, he had only joined a few months ago and Frank completely stopped going to confessions. Its not that Father Way was some old man, it was the opposite. He was around 25, fresh out of training when he joined the church.

Won't You Light My Way? by FallOutFromGrace, Frank/Gerard, 6k [WIP], Explicit. The land of the living became all the more interesting when one of the humans he was trying to turn to his own desires happened to have a spark of the divine. Well, for Gerard, at least. To everyone else, it was a horrific disaster and possibly and end to an era ruled by the spirits and entities down below. To him, it was an improvement to a boring existence.

Hunting With Bullets by Oni216, 21k [WIP], Mature. Having a band is the perfect cover to fight evil that lurks in the dark. It provides distraction, a reason to live, and decent lyrics for no one to fully understand. And it takes its toll. It always takes a toll.

From Grace by blood_infexions, Frank/Gerard, 40k, Explicit. “The connection a guardian angel will have to their human surpasses anything mortal man could fathom. It is pure, untainted love.” Frank is Gerard's guardian angel... until Gerard attempts suicide. Consequentially he is sent down to earth to live as a human again.

Desecrated Kids by wellthisisprettyrisque (collettephinz), Frank/Gerard, 144k, Explicit. Everyone moves into a new town and thinks it's strange. Stepping out of the car with a weird feeling tingling down the back of your neck isn't actually that unheard of, but finding that unmarked grave in the woods behind your house is. Frank Iero wonders if his mother moved him here so he'd disappear off the face of the planet, or if she actually wants the body to be found. All he knows is that this town has some horrible things happening to it, and no one seems to care enough to lift their heads and actually see. He has no idea what's going on, and is one of the few people that wants to find out. Luckily, Gerard is a few steps ahead of him.

Howl (Frerard Werewolf AU) by FrerardAndTheAssbutts666, Frank/Gerard, 18k, Teen And Up Audiences. In a small village, the townspeople all live together in harmony. But when a young woman is found dead, a wave of fear washes over the former peaceful village. Especially when signs of Werewolves, and Witches are linked to the murder. 17 year old Gerard Way is a young man who is well liked by everyone in the village, partly due to his families status in the village. Despite the fact that his village is a God fearing one and he wears dresses. And when another murder is committed, showing the same signs as the first, the village turns to full blown panic, and reinforcements are sent in to help. A Werewolf hunter and his son have traveled to help save this village from the belly of the beast, all while Gerard begins to question everything. The only person he could truly trust during this time of fear, is his boyfriend and lover, Frank. Frank and Gerard have been having a secret relationship, fearing they would be condemned to death if anyone knew. But as more blood is shed and more bodies hit the ground, Gerard begins to piece together that the beast is closer than he thinks. (Loosely based off Red Riding Hood with Amanda Seyfried and Gary Goldman...Okay more like its pretty based off it :p.)

Written in the Sand by Scarlet_Cross, Sarah/Brendon in a later fic, 28k, Teen And Up Audiences. Desert is brutal, it gives no second chances. It demands respect, sacrifice, and blood. (It's set in a super AU danger days pre-music videos universe. Mostly centered on the MCR boys, but there will be cameos, references, and side shoot offs into different bandom areas.)

The psalm of David by ratfromasewer, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Teen And Up Audiences. There's the world that's "after" and there's the world that's "before". After the slippery road, the accident, the almost-becoming-an-angel.

Stairway to Heaven by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone, Frank/Grant/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Father Way accidentally taps into the memories of an angel, and stumbles into the middle of a millennia-long doomed romance.

Shadows In The Parking Lot by cellphonecharm_au, Frank/Gerard, 61k, Explicit. In which there’s a mass grave under Frank and Ray’s apartment complex, Frank doesn’t believe in ghosts, & Frank’s ex-boyfriend is, conveniently, a paranormal consultant.

Shadowplay by theoretically_yours, Frank/Gerard, 74k [WIP], Explicit. Malimore is a small town in Southern California where ghosts are as common as any other household pest and vampires come out to steal the souls of humans at midnight. Frank Iero is a young paranormal investigator whose interest in the supernatural began after the bizarre and untimely death of his parents. One day, when he and his partner take on a particularly gruesome case, all hell breaks loose with Frank caught at the very center. This is the story of how it all happened.

When Both Our Fates Collide (Frerard) by A_A_Dolan, Frank/Gerard, 11k, Mature. Frank Iero is a loner traveler who is a demon hunter. He is part demon due to him having to sacrifice part of his soul to save the life of his son, Miles, after losing his wife and twin daughters to demons. Along the way, Frank has a quest to save the life of someone who can save humankind from death and destruction. A man by the name of Gerard Way. Frank ends up finding Gerard...as a professional, exotic dancer in the bad part of town. Gerard is special and unique and it’s Frank’s job to protect him at all costs. Eventually Frank discovers that Gerard is an angel and has powers stronger than all demons combined...when that news gets out, all demons and angels are on the search for Gerard.

Love will scares us apart by francoantoniohierro, Frank/Gerard, 56k, Mature, Explicit. Haunted House AU. Frank Iero is looking for answers after the death of his best friend. The only people willing to help are the Way brothers. On the other hand, the Way brothers are two paranormal experts looking for amusement.

Famous Last Words by SaskiaK, 22k, Mature. The Paramour Mansion is not for the faint-hearted. Mikey recalls some of events that almost tore him apart

Stay out of the Light by orphan_account, Frank/Gerard, 10k, Explicit. Reserved bookworm Gerard, and arrogant, conceited boyfriend Frank are best friends, though they share little in common. They share even less in common when Frank mysteriously gains an appetite for human blood. As their classmates are steadily killed off in gruesome attacks, Gerard must uncover the truth behind his boyfriend's transformation and find a way to stop the bloodthirsty rampage before it reaches his own brother Mikey. Jennifer's Body AU

The Brandy of the Damned by Nokomis, Gen, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. An ill-advised detour leads My Chem to a town populated by the dead.

Get Up and Kill by MontyKarl, 10k, Teen And Up Audiences. The zombie apocalypse is upon us. The Way Brothers may well be our only hope...or at the very least their only hope.

In The Walls by thesamefire, Gen, 72k, Teen And Up Audiences. When My Chemical Romance move into the Paramour, they get a lot more than they bargained for. All they want to do is write an epic album, but Mikey is falling apart and Gerard isn't sure what to do about it—or about the fact that they're trapped inside the house with no escape from the increasingly strange and terrible things that are happening to them.

Break The Walls (And Kill Us All) by tabulaxrasa, Frank/Gerard, 27k, Mature. Frank owns an antique store, but he's not very good at it. About the only thing he IS good at is having a crush on his best customer. Until Frank unknowingly unleashes something into his shop— something that doesn't like him very much. And it's not going away any time soon.

the house that dripped blood by addandsubtract, Frank/Mikey, 11k, Mature. “When do we leave?” Mikey asks, and Gerard steps back. “Two weeks,” he says, and Mikey sees flashes of empty hallways and open doors as Gerard pulls his fingers away.

[ziracona]

How many people were tested just for others anyway? Gordon's wife and daughter, Daniel (the wiki says it was also for shoplifting but he was 16 so I call bs), literally everyone except Lynn and her husband in Saw III, and my memory past 3 is fuzzy but that one lying author's wife comes straight to mind. They weren't being tested for whatever John pretended his survival of the fittest policy was they were terrorized tortured and/or killed for basically nothing but the pain of the target.

Anon you’re so valid TuT 

ITS TRUE AND WE SHOULD ALL SAY IT!!! Also, I wrote this little part last, bc I just wanted to give fair warning that I went blind into a rage and wrote threethousand words about how much I hate John Kramer, full of very terrible language and spoilers for Saw 1-6, because I go that fucking feral at the sound of his name, and I can’t make everyone scroll past that so I’m putting most of it under the cut, but even if you decide you justifiably fear that rant and don’t read it, just know you are incredibly valid, and John can eat shit and die. Rant start:

John did that bullshit constantly! He would over and over put 1 (one) man he personally wanted to watch suffer on trial and sacrifice /scores/ of people for no reason. No trap, no way to escape, at someone else’s mercy completely or maybe with 0 chance even there bc JOHN KRAMER IS A SACK OF SHIT. 

He kills a house full of drug addicts in two, mostly just bc his wife worked w drug addicts and John hates drug addicts, and even though Amanda was in their literal exact same position she does jack shit to stop him and just watches people slowly have their organs deteriorate and start coughing up blood around her!! Including fucking Daniel! Who got an antidote but like, at the 11th hour. Do y’all even understand how biology works John and CO??? If you neutralize a poison after it has deteriorated parts of organs it might save your life but itS NOT A FUCKING HEALTH POTION. Poor Daniel Matthews probably will only live to be like forty tops if he’s super lucky because of that. And he did NOTHING!!! He had shoplifted bc he was going through a teen phase but he’s like sixteen! Everyone was dumb as shit as a teenager, and most people shoplift at some point in their life! It does not earn you slow deterioration of your organs! Poor kid not only watched a man burned to death in an oven, dude have his brains blown out, girl die of prolonged organ failure, and more shit, he himself /killed/ a man as a sixteen year old child to save Amanda Young because he’s got a good heart and is a good person, and that shit is awful! It’s traumatic to kill someone at any age, but as a teenager? And then he got knocked out by her and thrown in a tiny locked safe, tied up and gagged, and kept alive by an oxygen tank in an enclosed space after that massive trauma for or AT LEAST 24 HOURS ! He did NOTHING. It was all just a long-con sacrifice to get Eric Matthews to a specific location. Eric did some real shit, but god, even after everything Daniel did for Amanda and all John’s talk of innocents, neither of them ever even tell Eric he lived! Amanda just locks him up, fights, beats him to she thinks death, and then John keeps him locked up and isolated in a cell for months, only to make him choke himself slowly in a test he doesn’t actually get to participate in to keep a friend from being electrocuted. It’s all kinds of fucked.

Even Jeff did nothing worse than be depressed and obsessive and unavailable to his kid, all Lynn did was have a boyfriend after she and he separated (and tbh the only reason John took her was bc he wanted a doctor and hated her for being one of the docs who told him he had cancer bc John is a pettyass hypocritical stupid sack of shit!) I’m VIBRATING with hatred. Lynn was just a pawn in Amanda’s test! It never mattered if she kept John alive! It only mattered if Amanda decided to fucking shoot her!!! She did her task and died and JOHN KNEW THERE WAS A HIGH PROBABILITY AMANDA WOULD KILL HER AND DID NOTHING TO STOP IT BC JOHN CARES ABOUT NO ONE BUT HIMSELF THE FUCKING WORTHLESS LITTLE WORM. 

And the other victims in 3 are a poor college student who ran over someone on accident and feels massive guilt already and served jail time for it who gets his fucking limbs and then head all twisted off while begging for his life because JOHN KRAMER IS A PIECE OF SHIT AND SO IS JEFF TBH. BUT NOT AS BIG OF ONE. The poor girl who is stung up naked in a freezer and sprayed repeatedly with water till she is encased in ice and dead literally just saw the hit and run and ran away bc she was scared!!! Not to mention Jeff’s other kid who gets kidnapped and locked up as collateral! Even if she’s not hurt that’s FUCKING TRAUMATIZING FOR A YOUNG CHILD. And Allison Kerry did nothing wrong! Amanda kills her in the Angel trap literally just bc she’s investigating them! When he targets a detective John’s always like “Ho ho he, I am putting you on trial bc you are obsessed with your work”  LIKE, BITCH NO SHE FUCKIN AINT SHE DOIN HER GODDAMN JOB AND U DON”T WANT TO GET CAUGHT YOU STUPID FUCKING WHORE I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH THAT JUST LOOKING AT YOUR FACE CAUSES ME TO PRODUCE SO MUCH EXCESS EPINEPHRINE I COULD BOTTLE IT AND SAVE IT FOR LATER. I swear to god, if I had a grenade and I was in the room trapped with a still breathing John Kramer, I would kill pull the pin and take us both! FUCK I would pull the pin and then french kiss the grenade as thanks for letting me see that sack of shit go right to hell!

I don’t remember all of four bc it was really terrible, so I don’t have a lot of thoughts there except woof, but there was a lot of bullshit. Like John’s lawyer who did nothing but try to talk to him about finances enough it pissed John off got kidnapped, won his first game, and then got kidnapped again BC THAT SHIT HEAD SURE NEVER KEEPS EVEN HIS OWN GODDAMNED WORD and was made pawn in the game and then shot bc he didn’t have a chance to save himsefl!!! 

In Saw one, also, again, Adam was never being tested. He was just a pawn too. It was Gordon who got to decide to kill him or not, and ADAM LIVED TO SIX OR WHENEVER THE FUCK THE TIME WAS AND JOHN STILL LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HE”S A HYPOCRITICAL PIECE OF SHIT!!!! And he’s not interesting enough for Johns MASSIVE brainshlong that obviously is so full of right ideas and enlightenment you MICROPENISEDtrulyIDIOTIC self-centered human garbage!  He only took Adam at all bc he was there! He said the reason was Adam was pathetic! ADAM WAS DOING HIS BEST YOU CRUSTY ASS RED ROBED TURTLE LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER. He was a freelance photographer in New Jersey in his early 20s during an economic collapse, and still nice enough to be taking care of stray cats you FUCKING sack of dogshit! 

And Gordon? All he did was tell John he had cancer! He was cheating on his wife too, but like, the reason John picked him was that!!! HE THOUGHT!! GORDON SOUNDED TOO COLD WHEN HE TOLD HIM HE HAD CANCER I FUCKING HATE JOHN KRAMER SO MUCH. John Kramer really will see someone smile not as big a smile as he thought they should have given him and be like: “Yo, is anyone going to corkscrew their eyeballs off?” and not even wait for an answer. I fuuuuukning hate him. And that little shitface thought it was somehow chill to order someone else to kill Gordon’s wife and eight year old child who had done JACK SHIT wrong ever if Gordon wasn’t willing to brutally murder a kid in his early 20s who had done nothing wrong????! WHAT THE FUCK. Mr. KRamer.. QUICK QUESTION. WHAT. THE. FUCK. You self-righteous, self-centered, pretentious, pettyass, sadistic motherfucking goddamn worthless excuse for anything!

In five he’s finally dead so I can : ) once. BUT HE STILL FUCKS UP SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE. SO I’m STILL MAD. All the people Hoffman kills are ppl John told him to, so HE STILL MOTHERFUKIN RESPONSIBLE. In 5 it’s a bunch of people responsible kind of for deaths of people in a low-income neighborhood. One guy was paid to torch an abandoned building, and eight people died in the fire, but he didn’t know anyone was there and feels terrible. He thought it was vacant, it was just arson. Another is a journalist who found out about the arson, and didn’t break the story bc guy 1’s father bribed him. There’s a fire inspector who learned the truth and was bribed by the guy’s dad not to tell too. A city planner who was bribed into selling permits for the land. And Brit, who was the girl who paid for the arson, bc she wanted to make an apartment complex, and maybe actually knew about the 8 people and might have deserved some real payback–it’s unclear???? Regardless. I want to add that the cops had been investigating, had a strong case, and were about to arrest them and hold these people accountable in a legal manner, which John knew bc HOFFMAN WAS IN HIS POCKET, and John so hated the idea of them facing justice justice, he kidnapped them. The fire inspector got dragged into saw blades by her throat and torn apart, the journalist died to a nail bomb, and the city planner got electrocuted in a bathtub. The two who made it had their arms split down the middle up to the elbow to let enough blood out to save them.  I cannot. Just.

Anyway. In six, again at DEAD JOHN WHO WON”T QUIT FUCKING EVERYTHING UP’s request, a ‘game’ is played and William Easton (one of my fave protagonists bc he’s a piece of shit but damn if he didn’t have a real glow up in forty-five minutes) is thrown into a hell circuit. 

And so, undeservingly, is like, EVERYONE he fucking knows! His janitor Hank is first up. Target for…what was it? OHhhhhh right. He smokes. That was why. That makes so much sense john I’m sorry I doubted you PSYCH I CAN"T EVEN SAY IT AS A JOKE I JUST THREW UP A LITTLE IN MY MOUTH JOHN QUICK Q? WHAT THE FUCK? oh wait it’s because your an ABSOLUTE BASTARD. You would think I would get desensitized but no. It just. It’s fuel on the flame of my rage.

William Easton and the janitor, Hank, are hooked into something that slowly tightens and crushes their ribs any time they take a breath, and whoever doesn’t die first gets to live, and poor goddamn Hank smoked so ofc he can’t outlast a healthy dude in his 30s and John crushes his ribs just to make William watch someone die. Then he makes William pick which of two people to save in trial 2. MEANING HE GODDAMN STRAIGHT UP KIDNAPPED THESE TWO TOTALLY FINE WITH EITHER DYING, IN FACT WITH THE SOUL PURPOSE BEING TO DIE bc who cares about them right John? You fucking pretentious self-righteous creep! I have a year of the Pig teddy bear I named after Peter Strahm JUST for the FUCKING satisfaction of knowing John would hate that bc he was so into year of the motherfucking pig. ANyway. Plot again. Poor file clerk at Williams firm and the poor secretary are the two targets, and literally they did jack shit!!! They work for shitty lawyers but all they do is clock in to a 9-5 and file shit!! They are literally just there to rub it in William’s face that insurance policies aren’t fair bc according to them, one of the humans is worth more than the other bc health and age, but uuuuh oohhh William the older one with health issues is p hard to kill face to face bc you know her and she has kids and the young healthy man in his early 20s family is dead and he doesn’t have friends which means according to John he is worth less bc JOHN DOES THINK YOU CAN CHOOSE BETWEEN LIVES and all of this is here just bc John somehow thought it would be fun to fucking WIN A GODDAMN “I’M RIGHT” ARGUMENT WITH A LAWYER at the expense of brutally hanging a human being with barbed wire!!! 

Sidebar–if John Kramer was a real human being, I would go yearly on a fucking pilgrimage to his grave just to SPIT on his stupid corpse. I HATE HIM SO MUCH. 

K so young man dies. Then test 3 his attorney dies too, I don’t know much about her, except she is just there to make William feel like shit and they were into each other, and she tries to kill William after he gets hurt trying to save her bc he has the key to her trap in his stomach or chest idr, but she doesn’t get the key in time and dies, and then test 4 he finds his associates strapped to a carousel with a shotgun that picks one at random and blows off their head, and has to let all but two of them get gunned down and choose which two not to kill. And again, they’re kind of shittyass lawyers, but uh. Yeah. To save two, he has to let this huge piece of metal rip through his hand, but William does it and destroys his hand to save the two he can, and suffers picking while they all beg him to pick them bc John wanted to see him suffer picking between human lives again because he’s a goddam self-centered stuck up jerk who vales human life less then admiring his ugly ass dick in the mirror every day and pretending he’s a member of Mensa, the evil utterly irredeemable sack of shit. Anyway, at the end, William has never had a chance to live or die at all! And John was literally just torturing him for fun and killed /all/ those people not even for a test for William but /solely/ to make him suffer bc human lives DON"T MATTER ONE FUCKING IOTA to JOHN SHITASS KRAMER. WHO JUST WANTED TO WIN. AN INTELLECTUAL ARGUMENT. POST-MORTEM. BECAUSE he’s THAT kind of shittyass, pretentious, sanctimonious, better than thou, always right, incapable of wrong, smartest fucking asshole in the room man!!! I bet he doesn’t ever wash his hands when he takes a piss! I KNOW IT! FUCK John Kramer! 

ANd OH! William gets killed by a kid who hates him bc he turned down their father’s insurance policy fraudulently, knowing he would die of an illness without the money. BC William was terrible. Which is /so/ great for that fucking teenager! Killing someone horribly with acid while you watch them die and their body be melted! And they beg you not to do it and apologize on the other side of bars, already beat to shit, and plead for forgiveness, and your mom begs you not to, and the dude’s sister sobs and begs you not to!!! SO GOOD! Way to go john you FUCKING CUNT, they definitely value their lives now you goddamn motherfucking souless sack of shit!

I-I don’t even have the energy to do the other Saw movies or go back over the other victims in Saw one WHO DID NOTHING WRONG. John just hated them!!! BC HIS WIFE KNEW THEM! In most cases! John just fucking hates drug addicts! OK u know what here’s the short version even if I can’t do them justice rn bc I’m pissed!!! One guy got sliced to death on razor wire for cutting when he was depressed bc John is a piece of shit, one got burned to death after walking on glass for hours bc John doesn’t believe in invisible illnesses and if you’re walking you must be healthy, oh yeah! And the fucking dude Amanda killed in her first trial was just a drug addict! Going to a recovery clinic! He never had a chance to live on his own bc the only choice was if Amanda would cut open his intestines and sift through him for a key while he was awake but too drugged to move or not, and she did! Didn’t even get to plead for his life! ANyway!!!! Fucking as far as I can tell all Zep did was work at the goddamn hospital! He WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO BE NICE TO JOHN and told other people he was a cool dude!!! He was just a janitor!!! WHAT THE FUCK???

I just. God. I hate everything about John Kramer. The way he talks makes me so LIVID I change color like a goddamned chameleon. He is so ready to argue his stupid shitty fucking ethics with anyone who breathes in a ten mile radius. Shithead John over here will strap you to a table and make you listen to him talk about how it’s not his fault he poisoned two people and gave them one antidote and a bunch of knives and one of them came out dead, and his hands are clean and people don’t value their lives so they should die while he watches eating fucking cereal I am just–I am so glad John has cancer? Like, the idea of Saw sans John having cancer is unbearable, because I am so afraid the writers would never let him die and we would never be free of the human cancer that is John. The only human being on the planet that has ever been able to make me root for the cancer. But boy in that one and only regard, John is special.

I hate him so much it is unbelievable. Like. I can’t even put it into words. THe pure, unbridled fury I feel when I hear John say, “D’oh ho ho, but I, with these two little handies of mine, hath never pulled the gun’s trigger! Got you there! Where is your science! Where is your god! I am no murderer! I heal people! By sawing off their faces! You just do not understand, oh poor unenlightened human that you are. May you be strapped to a machete car and blessed with my wisdom  😔” I absolutely lose control of 90% of normal human functionality, and all that I have left is righteous justice and bloodlust. It’s unbelievable.

Whichever one of you god-mode-brain peeps made that post saying Eric Matthews had the hardest test in the whole Saw franchise because he had to sit and listen to John Kramer talk for two hours was a GODDAMNED HERO and if you contact me and prove the tumblr account is yours I will paypal you ten dollars and a personalized note thanking you for the joy that gave me because I just really hate John Kramer that FUCKING MUCH. I would cut off my own toes to be able to have something to shove down John Kramer’s throat to make him stop. talking.

There are a lot of things in this world I hate bc I hate things that are unjust, but I hate absolutely nothing more in the universe than a villain who is a self-righteous, hypocritical asshole who won’t even admit that what they are doing is wrong and parades as the tragic genius hero despite knowing GODDAMN well that they are a petty, shitty, hypocritical, absolute fucking MONSTER with no redeemable qualities or capacity for love. And John Kramer is at least my second least favorite character in the history of ANYTHING. Maybe my first. I’m not even sure anymore! Nasty-ass, evil, pretentious, self-righteous, shortsighted, selfish, sadistic, voyeuristic, willfully ignorant, crusty ass useless soulless garbage little SHIT.

[fandom-necromancer]

092 - continuation

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Just what on earth do you think you are doing, Reed?!’ Gavin had exactly twenty minutes of peace after entering the precinct the next day. Then Hank had stormed over like a rabid dog, beating his hands down on the desk and staring at him with a fury hot enough to melt steel. ‘I’m drinking my coffee.’ Gavin kept his outer appearance of being unphased by the angry lieutenant. His mind felt numb ever since he read that messages in the parking lot yesterday. He hated this feeling. It was far easier to be angry, to feel awful, to lash out or to regret. This numbness was rare for Gavin, who had always felt strong emotions and didn’t hide them like all the others – but not unfamiliar. No, he knew this numbness like a brother. It was a sign of him having phcked up again.

‘What the hell did you do to him?’ ‘Cut it down, daddy overprotective. I have not a clue what you are talking about.’ ‘Oh, you don’t?’ Hank lifted his body out of Gavin’s personal space to walk over to the adjacent desk and lean on the chair. RK900’s chair. RK900’s empty chair. ‘I thought you were a detective. Spot the phcking difference in the room!’ ‘I can see officer Person is slacking off again.’ Gavin refused to let the man pull him out of his cloud of indifference. He didn’t know what would happen would he switch on his emotions again. ‘You can see-‘ Hank turned around to look at the man playing on his phone, only visible due to RK900’s vacant desk, because….

Because Nines was gone. Gavin had managed to burn through another partner and was sure to never get one assigned again. He should be happy about this. Why was he not happy about being alone again?

‘Okay you fucking asshole, I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Nines, just so you know. But you better get up, follow me outside and take a smoke break. Because I would rather not discuss this in public unless you force me to.’ ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Hank grabbed him by the coat-tail and hissed: ‘You are taking a smoke break right now, or I’ll beat you up here and now in front of everyone and pull your unconscious body outside. I don’t care.’ Gavin looked at the Lieutenant, maybe for the first time really seeing the other since this conversation started. It had been long since he last saw the man this angry. It had been shortly after Anderson’s child died, and he drunkenly had started a fight with some criminal in the interrogation room. But he was sober now. He was simply angry as fuck. Knowing in what condition the perp had ended up, Gavin rose from his desk and followed the Lieutenant outside.

It took him by surprise that the man shoved him against a wall as soon as the door fell shut. ‘You are an asshole Reed. A fucking asshole. It would need a new word to describe just how much of an asshole you are.’ ‘Okay, cut the bullshit, I know what I am. Just tell me what I did wrong apparently.’ ‘Apparently? Apparently? I tell you what you did: You let a newly deviated android lose faith!’ Gavin didn’t want to laugh at that but couldn’t stop it. ‘Hank. It’s just. A phcking. Machine! I know you project all kinda stuff into them, but it is a robot. Wiring and programs. They cannot have faith.’ ‘Do you really think that Reed? Do you really think that after working with Nines? God, did you even know him? Are you that blind?’ ‘Enlighten me, smartass.’

‘He chose to be your partner, you know that?’ ‘Yeah I know!’, Gavin punched back hoping to mask the fact he had learned it only yesterday. ‘You know. And do you know why?’ Gavin stayed silent, causing Hank to shake him and shove him against the wall again. ‘Do you know why?’ ‘No. Why should I?’ ‘Because he wanted to!’, Hank ignored his question. ‘Because he was fascinated from what he read about you!’ Again Gavin stayed quiet in defeat, letting the Lieutenant explain. Maybe somewhere inside he did care or at least was interested in why anyone would deem him anything else but a failure, let alone fascinating. ‘Markus contacted us as Jericho raided the Cyberlife tower in search for any androids left in their shipping halls. What they didn’t expect was a second Connor – a prototype of a RK900 series. They should have become soldiers or police officers for the more gun-heavy occasions. Basically, a walking, talking shield for humans. And a central piece in Amanda’s plan taking over the revolution.’ ‘Why are you telling me this, Hank, it’s not like-‘ ‘Will you shut up already! Markus contacted me about the unit, and I took him in. Connor thinks of him as a brother and he is family. But he was restless. He wasn’t able to just live idling in our home. If he was sitting on the couch watching TV, even I could see his stress levels rising. Once, he petted Sumo and started overheating, desperately asking for a task. I jokingly told him to count the dog’s hairs and in the middle of the night he came into the bedroom with an actual number! He was clearly searching for a purpose, for something to occupy him and keep him from dying of boredom. He asked what we were working on. As he learned of Detective work, he was immediately caught on the idea. But he didn’t feel it was right to simply waltz in. He did the tests, Reed. He completed the human tests, graduated. Well, he rushed through it in a few months, but out of him and Connor he really deserves the title officially. In all that time he searched for someone his calibre. Someone he could work with and someone he could learn a few things from. Someone he might find his purpose in. It took him longer to find a partner than completing his training at the academy. And who he ended up with is you, Reed. He thought you would be that ideal partner for him. We tried to talk him out of it, expecting something like this to happen. We warned him of you, Gavin. And you know? He defended you. He stood up for you to the point we actually had a fight at home over this. But he stayed stubborn and simply did what he wanted to.’

Hank had calmed down a bit and let go of Gavin’s clothes. ‘He looked up to you, Gavin. He saw something in you – god knows what. You telling him to leave… Can you imagine what that meant to him?’ Gavin had to process all he just heard. He had the explanation, but he still couldn’t understand how out of all police officers in Detroit, hell, out of all humans in Detroit anyone would chose him despite knowing who he was. ‘Why did you chose to hate him, Reed?’ Hank had backed down and Gavin could see this bullshit about family had been the truth. The big drunkard had taken Connor in, yes, but he was concerned about Nines, too. Gavin was averted to the whole family-stuff, maybe because of his own phcked-up past. ‘Is it because he’s an android? Did he do anything to you? Is it just your asshole-attitude or is there any reason he has given you?’

‘Shut up.’ Gavin had been pulled to the edge of his numbness and he knew if he decided to let his emotions run free, he would succumb right there on the sidewalk. Maybe kill Hank afterwards and then find the tin-can and trash it before regretting it afterwards. Not a good future. So, he fought them down again, hoping to maintain the situation until he was home. ‘As if I care for a phcking machine.’ But his tone slipped, the truth seeping out. He felt phcking guilty. Ever since he read these messages. Now that he knew more it amplified it. He felt terrible and over a goddamn android! That made it even worse. ‘I’ll go home. Don’t you phcking touch me ever again!’

He had walked straight through the bullpen and made his way to the door, ignoring anyone who might try talking to him. Mechanically he sat down in the car and looked at his phone, the messages still open. I’m sorry I couldn’t live up to your expectations. You were the most interesting, competent and worthwhile option. I don’t know what I did to turn you away. I regret not having the chance to get to know you better. Best of luck. ‘Phck!’ There were the emotions again. Why couldn’t he be happy about the damn robot leaving? It was all he ever wished for since the plastic prick entered the precinct. And now he was close to tears in his car, still standing in the DPD parking lot. It wasn’t because of the android. God, at least he hoped it wasn’t. It was because he managed to phck up again. Just another evidence that Gavin Reed was a human failure and didn’t manage to make anything work. He didn’t deserve anything if all he did was destroy and phck up. He didn’t- Stop. Drive home. Get drunk. Cry your phcking eyes out. Get your shit back together and continue. It had worked until now, it would continue to help. Good plan. No, terrible plan, but the only one there was.

 Half a bottle later Gavin had broken down on the kitchen table, the messages open on his phone and Hank’s words in his ears. Any amount of alcohol would only make them both angrier and louder. Shit, he wanted to get out of this shitty situation. He could push it all down again and forget it, but he didn’t know how to look Hank in the eye ever again. Or he could apologize. What would bring him nothing but embarrassment. But he was drunk enough to forget about that detail as he grabbed the phone.

Hey, tin-csn, O’m sorry. There was a millisecond of the last sober brain cell hesitating, but all others managed to press send.

23:45 >Detective?

‘Phck.’ Why did he do this? Why was he about to do it again? I’m N asshoel.

23:45 >Detective, are you drunk? You never text me.

I’m your ducking partner, I do what O want!

23:46 >Except for Spellchecking apparently. Do you mean it?

Hell, would I txt you if I don’t? I Hank told me.. I... give me another chance, okay?

23:47 >I understand correctly: you want me to come back and be your partner, despite me being a ‘tin-can’ and a ‘phcking machine’?

Yes, you oversized calculator!

23:47 >Understood, Detective. I’ll ask to be transferred back. 23:48 >Please get some rest, this can’t be healthy.

‘Yes, I will~’ Gavin got up, somehow staying on wobbly feet and made for his bedroom, before realising that was far too ambitious and opted for the couch instead.

[ripuels]

Rival Gangs AU: warnings of blood, violence, swearing, bruising, etc.

For @annabellioncourt thank you!

(This got too long so I’m publishing as a text post to use a Read More that’ll actually work. This website is amazing. Really. Also I’m Very Tired, sorry if the editing looks like a four year old did it)

“Are you the one who's been following me? Stalking me?”

Amanda had recognised the eyes straight away, the depth of brown peering over a khaki bandana, pinched tight over his nose and tied at the base of his neck. The switchblade pressing against his throat shaves a tuft of green from it. 

“Fucking answer me, pretty boy.”

His hand moves gingerly as if he were defusing a bomb, a knife rolls from his fingers and clatters into the blue metal like a gunshot in the dark.

“I’m sorry, Ripley.” The synthetic with every reason to flinch doesn't. This woman, more leather and machine grease than human, holding him fast against the tunnel wall, shivers with unpredictability. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You couldn't scare me if you tried. Fuck,” she grimaces against the fading adrenaline, leaving her a dizzy creature, a lamb, holding up a lion. 

They both know a severed throat wouldn't do much to stop a berserk synthetic, especially not with her struggling grip. He stands still regardless, unfazed by the threat. 

“How the hell did you even find me, Samuels?” 

He glances to the blood leading down the train line. A dot-to-dot probably leading all the way from the outskirts of snob-hill to here, X marks the spot right over his chest, staining his cashmere sweater.

Amanda grunts in comprehension and shoves herself off the wall, leaving him to brush his clothes smooth. “Okay, good point.”

Samuels wishes it wasn't. “You've lost a lot of blood. Are you alright?” 

“Fucking peachy.” She says, retreating onto her gang's side of the tracks, replacing the switchblade into her leather jacket with incomprehensible speed. “Wish I could say the same about my bike, I swear to God, if there's so much as a scratch on it, I’ll kill the lot of ‘em.”

She brushes her fingers back through her hair, her hood falling down and he pans over her injuries.

“What happened to you?”

Ripley scoffs in disbelief, leaning a heavy shoulder into the dark emergency alcove. “Like you don't know.”

“I was told nothing more than they intended to attack. They know I'm conflicted by protocols. That I struggle in a fight. I think they try to be kind by not inviting me.”

“Or they know you'll get in their way.” Which he does, far too often to go unnoticed by David. “You're too good for this life, Samuels. It's going to catch up to you one day, believe me.”

This synthetic's deep frown flinches, easing to something far, far worse. Sadness. After all this time, after so many close encounters with others like him, she'd never seen one be that before. 

“Was no big deal.” Amanda can't bare his gaze. “Got jumped behind the garage when everyone fucked off home, too pissed to ride. Fucking cowards, I got shoved in a boot, driven out, and I got away, but... Well,” she gestures vaguely at her face. “It's obvious they didn't want to kill me.”

Christopher knows it's because she would absolutely be dead, and they'd have war on their hands. No, this freckle of red and staining of blue was a scare tactic, an obviously ineffective one as she winces her next breath. Heavy, resolute. Plotting. 

“They shouldn't have been on your side of town.” His voice sounds accusing, but for what it's unclear. 

“I didn't fucking provoke them, if that's what you're asking. Your lil' biker gang of Decepticon wannabees probably just don’t like the fact we kicked your ass in the park district. It's ours now. You want it back? Fine, time and place. Name it.” 

“I personally couldn't care less.” Samuels says rather than stating her very existence seems to egg his crew, his family, on. “I'm worried why you were left alone in the first place, is there still no honour amongst thieves?”

“It's Sunday.” Amanda shrugs as though it explains everything. “Believe it or not, we don't live to terrorize you, we all have jobs to go to tomorrow. Real lives outside this territorial bullshit. To be honest though,” she trembles to dab her brow and winces, a bruise beginning to darken the outer corner of her eye. “I could really use a day off.”

“I'm sorry.” He mumbles and it surprises her.

“Why? You had nothing to do with it. Funnily enough, you never do.” 

“Yes, I did.” A hardness sets in Samuels' gaze, the purity and innocence vanishing in a heartbreaking fall. She can't help but feel as though it's like an angel from grace. “I could have warned you, but by the time I heard-” 

“Shit, Samuels. Don't start blaming yourself, you would'a been killed for stepping foot over the tracks anyway, let alone coming to the workshop. You didn't do anything wrong, I know that. We're good.” It kills to give her direct rival such power. “And yeah, we might be from different worlds completely, but I don't let the actions of some reflect on the whole thing.” 

“Who was it?” He doesn't need to ask, just go back to the clubhouse and see who's missing teeth or some digits. Find someone sourcing parts for repair. “Ash? David?”

“Doesn't matter who it was, they'll be on their guard for a bit now. No need to protect them.” The quiet rage surprises them both, just as genuine as it is violent. “Yet.”

“Please, don’t do this.” Despite all the warnings in his programming, Samuels steps over, ducking into the small archway she's hunkering in. “I’m sick of the bloodshed, on both sides. I'm thinking about- No, I am certain. I'm out, Ripley.”

“You think so, do you?” 

“Yes.” He says in a way that makes her believe him. “I can't see people like this anymore, I can't keep repairing my friends and pretending that it's not all for nothing. That they aren't terrible enough they can do this to you, a human. That you, or one of your friends won't kill us in a few months when tensions run high again anyway.”

Tensions are always high, Amanda thinks as he moves towards her, licking his thumb and scrubbing at a spot of blood on her cheek. It makes no difference in the grand scheme, one mark amongst hundreds. He licks it again and she recoils, almost in disgust, but he stares like steel, nonchalantly taking to the mass of red on her cheekbone. She winces, but doesn't pull away.

“You look a mess.” Samuels hums thoughtfully, tugging his bandana off his neck and sucking on a corner, using it to clean her lip. “They shouldn't have gone this far.”

“Had worse. Done worse.” 

“Seen worse.” He states flatly. “Doesn't mean it's not upsetting to me.” 

“To your protocols.” Amanda doesn't mean to make it sound so much like a weakness, rather than she actually admired it about this one. 

“That too.”

“Speaking of which, since when have you been carrying a knife?” Amanda cocks her head away into his other palm under her ear, a little skeptic, a little in pain. “You expecting a fight or something?”

“With Amanda Ripley involved, always.” He says deadpan, but there's an attempted note of humour in his voice. Her reputation is littered in grey, some awful things proven to be small town gossip; and other more harrowing tales that perhaps only he knows, absolute truth. “But it wasn't for you, I was worried about being followed.”

“Like you were following me?” Her voice finally cracks in good humour, it's short lived but Samuels falters. 

“Just- keep still, will you?”

“Yes, okay, Christopher.” How anyone with a self appointed ID like that ended up in any gang at all is beyond her. She nudges him. “What the hell kind of name is Christopher anyway? Doesn’t exactly scream synthetic delinquent.”

“Like you're one to talk,” he finally smiles, “Amy.” 

They fall into a relaxed silence in the dim, a damp trickle of moisture running from the overpass nearby, fog rolling in down the way. They are relatively secluded, the green exit sign casting them both in a nebulous glow as her wounds are silently tended to in less than sanitary conditions. His eyes leave the mess of injury for hers every few seconds, searching for a tell of her discomfort. Of course it is always relative. Now, it's not so much his proximity to her that's cranking at her anxiety, but the thought that if he was seen on their turf, even by a metre or two, he'd be killed. If they were seen so close, they both might be, the speed of which would depend on who came across them first. 

She remembers Zula, the best damn right hand Amanda ever had, and that Davis, he was alright for a military device. They'd been chased to the edge of the world when David found out about them. They were nothing more than friendly, familiar, but they've yet to stop running for it. An anonymous letter is delivered every now and again, no return address, but one day, she knows they're going to stop. 

This, she thinks, is far too close to that.

“What is it?” Christopher asks the darkening of her face, the silence waning of it's humour. 

“Why the hell are you here? You know if I'm seen with you they'll fucking kill me.” She pushes off the wall, nearly right into his chest. Though her stature is found sorely wanting, her entire demeanour screams louder than Samuels ever could in raw, fearsome, violence. Barely contained in a 5’ 5 cage. “Get the fuck out of here Samuels, before you get us both-”

She swallows her words as his lips crash onto her own, hesitating briefly until her hands take his jaw with a demanding hardness. Shoving herself into him, they hit the far wall hard enough to encourage a deep grumble amongst a slew of colourful names for idiocy, and more specifically, him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Her body presents no complaint. “Chris- think about this.”

“I am- I have.” He brushes down to her neck, detects her tensing, pushing back harder as he finds a firm lump of bruise. A footprint. Fucking David.

It's a wonder what it would be like to feel, anything, let alone pain, learn what about it grounds this woman. It would be a fair deal, he supposes, to have a sense of the worst rather than nothing at all

“Then you're an idiot and a deadman.”

“You don't scare me, Amy.” He says as her angry kisses take control of him. Holding her, bloody and bruised, just tight enough to hurt in all the places it doesn't yet, until his systems blare that it's too much. That it encourages the alarming grip she has of his hair or neck or shoulders. 

“I should.” She hisses in response.

Christopher knows it too. The ghastly stories she had whispered, melting from her lips as her icy exterior thaws over his chest. Her leather and flannels, his denim and cashmere, both of their embroidered patches, all scattered over the floor of dingy motels. Completely bare together, stripped of identity in the next town over, then the next. Riding further and further until one day they might never stop. 

Never need to retreat with their fallen. To lick wounds. To prepare for next time. 

Next time. 

Because there were plenty. So often they met on the field, in the canyon, at the lookout, her hands stained white taking life, his red from saving it. For years Christopher would always find her after the fights by an upturned motorcycle, pacing at an old inn or bar, fingers through her hair, and he'd lead them to a room. They'd find relief from the wounds and the damage, the over-stimulation and adrenaline. Take whatever was left out on each other. It became their ritual.

Now, just like every other time, he takes the side of her face, but offers something new. “Leave with me. Right now. For good. Don't make me beg.” 

“What?” Her lips are yet to leave his, but Samuels' eyes open to slits, slowly pulling away to gauge her. 

“Why do we ever come back, Amy? We know how to get out, in the chaos of the aftermath, we abandon our people to fuck in cheap rooms and play it off as hunting down each other's stragglers. How long do you think we can keep this lie up? How long until they learn where we really go?” Samuels allows himself to lean in, accept a kiss that feels awfully final as her hands grow unbearably tight at his shoulders, taking him by the collar with a rough shake. 

“Jesus, Chris, you can’t be serious. Open your Goddamn eyes.” A demand weaponized by a glance down, their different attire barely touching at the chest but worlds apart, threatening to collide like two orbits never meant to meet. On course to implode, or burn out. It's impossible to tell. “Look at us. I’m a greaser. A criminal. I darken the city with a pitch black bike, and run red into the streets. I am a fucking menace to society just like the rest of us. And you, fuck, you’re a synthetic with a heart of gold. And if you- if you let me, I’m going to ruin that. Ruin you. Shit, I mean you already look forward to the turf wars, because you know what comes after.”

“I do not look forward to them, but being there means I can keep an eye out for you if you need.” His gaze moves away lazily, unapologetic. “They do herald the time we spend together, but it's not that which I like. It's the fact we can escape for a while, just us. A breath of fresh air amongst all of this.”

“And we come back because we know they’ll-” her voice cracks, “they'll find us. Out there is a big fucking world that we already know we can't hide in, we'd never find peace. There's no future, not for me and you.”

“What are you saying?” 

“I mean.” She stands back again. Breaking away. “I mean I'm out too. Of this. Of us.”

His face, already torn between sadness and fear, falls further. “Do you think there is peace here? At least we have a chance out there. Movement, that's what will keep us safe. On the road, under the sun and stars, rain and shine, I don't fucking care. As long as you say you'll come.”

“Samuels, we’ve tried before, to run,” she mumbles softly, “and we were caught. Hurting the others, I don't give a shit, you know I fucking don't, but having to hurt you-”

“Do not dare blame yourself.” He says sternly, holding his shoulder where a long jagged ridge of repaired silicone pushes back. “I didn't feel a thing. They had to believe me, it was the only way.”

“No,” the tremble cheats the strength in her voice, in her eyes. A hundred times he’d looked into them and not seen this. “There was another way, there was always another way, we just don't want to admit it.” 

“And I never will. You cannot convince me to move on, to leave you.”

“You have to. My people will try to kill me, and they'll definitely kill you, and-”

“Then I'll die.”

“Christopher...” She closes the gap between them, hesitant and desperate arms crashing around each other. No longer willing to exchange needy kisses, but fill a void. Squeeze so hard his respiratory system freezes. “Where are we meeting this time?”

“Pardon?”

“I need to get my bike, and you need to get off this side of town. But then what?”

He frowns deeply, for the first time he doesn't want to go through with it. “For our usual rendezvous?”

She convinces herself to back away, catching the last fragments of him like this, his fingers loosening their suddenly paper gentle grip on her waist. “I've been called many things, Christopher Samuels, but never shy of a challenge. Let's get the fuck out of here.”

Chris takes a step forward but stops, “Amanda,” he whispers, not wanting to ask if she's serious, strain this already brittle, whimsical promise. “Sunrise. The lookout.”

“Be there. Oh, and one more thing?” She calls back down the tracks, “I love you.” Her voice echoes in the dark long after she's gone. 

[katymacsupernatural]

A New Life Chapter 30: Stull Cemetery

Dean Winchester x Reader

1500 Words

Story Summary: You’re a Demon who is trying to erase all the bad you’ve done, by helping the Winchesters. But the price to be good can be too much, even for a crossroads demon.

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

The cemetery wasn't exactly as you had expected. Antique iron gates guarded the place,  dead weeds threaded throughout. Dean drove the Impala straight through, the classic car groaning at the dirt road pitted with potholes.

Dean's hands were tight on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. "I've driven through this arch before. I was nervous, knowing I was no doubt entering the final moments before the apocalypse. I had classic rock blaring on the radio, trying to act tougher than I felt. But I knew that it had to be done. I had to see my brother even though Lucifer was wearing him as a meat suit," Dean told me, his eyes full of sadness.

You reached over, grasping his hand, giving him a gentle squeeze to comfort him, grateful when he didn't pull away from your touch.

The cemetery was old, the headstones were a mixture of marble and wooden crosses. The grass was overgrown, covering many markers. In the center, at least ten people stood, with Sam laying on the ground, his hands bound behind him. As the Impala rumbled closer, you could see how beaten and bloody he was, and you couldn't wait to go after Ebony. To make her pay for what she had done.

Dean stopped the Impala, looking at you silently for a moment before slowly climbing out. His eyes had been so full of remorse, of pain for his brother that your heart bled for him. You followed him to the front of the car, your hands on your hips as you waited.  

A voluptuous woman walked to the front of the group, her dark hair swinging sinfully to her waist, her skin dark honey. "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it," she purred, her voice sensual and smooth, like honey.

"Ebony, please. Just let Sam go." You pleaded, even though you knew she had no mercy. You had seen that from the beginning, but you had to try.

She just laughed, throwing her head back, her white teeth bright against her golden skin. Her eyes were dark, full of malicious intent, with no hint of remorse. One of her henchmen pulled Sam to his feet, holding him up even though he was unconscious. "You expect me to let go of Lucifer's perfect vessel? Y/N I always knew you were naive and stupid, but this is a new low. Even for you," she chuckled, brushing her hair back.

"How do you even plan on bringing him back? Last time 66 seals had to be broken, and I haven't noticed any of that going around." Dean argued.

Ebony rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "Dean I always thought you were smarter than anyone let on. But now I'm beginning to wonder. Why would I have this all set up, all the way out here if I did not have a plan! Lilith, that weak, pathetic, follower, had no idea what she was doing. She wasn't Lucifer's true follower. I was. And I've always known that there was a different way."

You had often heard whispers about this other way. It had become a legend, a myth that no Demon had dared believe to be true. During the apocalypse many had brought it up, wondering if it would have been easier than breaking the seals. If things would have gone smoother. But nobody had known if it was real, or what needed to be done.

"That was just a myth," you retorted. But Ebony just shook her head. "Sweetie, are you really that naive? You must now that every myth always has some truth to it. And this, it might have been a myth, but it's real. And it's happening now," she insisted. You wanted to argue, but your attention was pulled away to Sam, who was slowly waking up.

Dean took that moment to pull the special Demon-killing knife out of his back pocket, holding it out in front of him. "Then we'll need to make sure that it stays a myth," he spoke up, just as Cas stepped out of the shadows.

Ebony nodded her head, signaling her henchmen, and just like that the battle had begun. The two henchmen holding Sam let him fall to the ground. You had your own knife, holding it out in front of you as the Demons started to move.

You quickly lost track of Sam and Cas, two Demons taking you on at once. It took all of your strength to keep up. The bracelet had zapped your powers, making you rely on strength and skill, which weren't much. Finally getting the upper hand, you stabbed one, just as the second overtook you, wrenching your arms behind your back. The knife fell to the ground, leaving you defenseless.

Being held hostage, all you could do was watch the battle unfold in front of you. Dean was busy battling two Demons, swiping the blade around with accuracy. Cas was using his powers, smiting as many Demons as he could, already taking care of three. Sam had risen to his feet, furiously using a knife to cut himself free of the ropes binding him.  

You leaned forward, and with all of your might you snapped it backward, right into the Demon's nose, and you could feel it break under the pressure. "Son of a bitch!" He yelled, releasing you. Scrambling forward, you reached Sam, your blade long forgotten on the ground. Taking his knife from his hands, you finished the job of breaking him free. Rubbing his hands, Sam looked around him at the fight unfolding.

"Sam, I'm so sorry," you muttered, feeling guilty that he had been captured. Sam just shook his head, letting you know without words that he didn't blame you. Instead, the two of you peered out at the battle. Cas was still fighting two Demons but was quickly getting the upper hand. Dean had just finished off the last Demon he was fighting, and was currently glaring at Ebony who only stood five feet away.

"I will go get more Demons to follow me.  This is far from over!" She yelled, no doubt getting ready to leave the battle that had gone so wrong for her. But Dean was quick, and ready for her, pulling a gun from his belt, shooting her in the chest.

She glanced down at the small wound, laughing as she glanced back at Dean. "You puny human, bullets won't harm me."

It was Dean's turn to laugh. "True, but that's not just any bullet. I personally carved a Devil's Trap into that bullet. Which means you're going nowhere."

Ebony's eyes flashed black as she screamed. Nothing had gone her way, and she was furious. Looking down, she picked up a knife that was laying on the ground next to her. Your forgotten Demon killing knife. "This will do quite nicely," she growled, throwing it straight at Dean.

"No!" You screamed, running for Dean as fast as you could. Everything moved in slow motion. You ran as fast as you could towards Dean. Your powers were muted, but you were still faster than a normal human, diving in front of Dean just as a terrible pain bloomed through your chest, knocking you back into Dean.

Dean broke your fall, cradling you in his arms, his gaze searching your face while you stared down in shock at the knife embedded in your chest. Dean hadn't noticed yet, holding you tight against him as he chastised you for jumping in front of him.

It wasn't until your body started flashing orange that he glanced down in surprise, noticing the knife deep inside you. "Oh shit Y/N! Hold still," he told you, pulling the knife out. But it was too late. There was no way you could come back from this. But you were okay with dying. You had saved Sam and stopped Ebony. You had protected the people you loved, and that was all that mattered to you.

"It's okay." You assured him weakly. "We saved Sam. Stopped Ebony. At least this way I'm going out doing something good. Something worthwhile.  

Dean stared down at you, tears falling from his eyes. "You are good, you always have been. I just wish I hadn't been so stubborn to see how much of an amazing person you are, Demon or not."

You smiled up at Dean, your body numb, as the flashing orange faded, and the last thing you hear was Dean crying, "I love you."

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[thedistantstorm]

Dawning Delights 06: Snowed In

Summary: Hawthorne invites her newfound family in the Tower to experience a City-Style Dawning with the family that took her in years ago. The holiday is not without it’s charm, or aggravation, and certainly has plenty of surprises in store. A season-inspired, trope-tastic story about a family forged by something greater than blood, finding reasons to enjoy the season - and cherish each other. Main Post

Pairings: Hawthorne/Zavala, Sloane/Amanda, Devrim/Marc

Updated every Tuesday/Friday & both holiday eve and days for Christmas and New Years.

-/

This plan might be the oldest of all those pertaining to this year's Dawning Holiday. Excluding traditions, of course. It's one they're both looking forward to. Something about the Farm speaks to them both. For Suraya, it’s a home of sorts, a place where she’d found her footing and risen into the kind of person she hopes inspires others to do what’s right. To Zavala, it’s a place that reminds him of the strength and resolve of humanity. From the weakest babe to the woman beside her, there is always hope. It’s why humanity has made it this long.

Their flight from the Tower to the Farm is uneventful right down to the winter weather. Zavala has never minded the cold and has always admired the snow. Light and fluffy, snowflakes fall from graying clouds. Beside him, Suraya eyes the sky warily.

"What's wrong?" He asks her. She does not look away from the horizon.

Her lips pull to the left, relaying her concern as she muses, “There’s a storm coming.”

“Nothing’s on radar,” Zavala’s Ghost chimes in over the radio, having integrated with the system in order to pilot the ship for them. “I checked before we left.”

“No offense,” She says, and she truly, does not mean to offend the droid, “But I lived out this way for over a decade. The skies look like this before they drop snow.”

“It’ll be fine,” The Ghost says. “A couple centimeters of snow won’t hurt anyone.”

“It won’t be just a few centimeters,” Suraya counters. “Believe me. One time I saw five meters of snow in two days. I was in this old stable and had to hop out from the loft.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Zavala says, though she can see him checking the sky as if he’d be able to glean something from it. 

She doesn’t doubt he has some knowledge - after all, the guy gives most Warlocks a run for their money, but this is more practical application combined with instinct than something read in a book or archived on vanNet.

Resisting the urge to point out that this is her area of expertise, that these are her lands, her sky (well, it’s not hers, but... they’ll see), Suraya turns her gaze back to the clouds and watches the horizon fade from soft gray to a stern graphite.

-/

“I’m surprised you didn’t turn around,” Tyra says, when they land. “There’s a storm coming in.”

Suraya fixes Zavala with a knowing look - something just a smidge softer than an ‘I told you so’ - and steps forward to embrace Tyra. “You know how it is,” She says, and the old Cryptarch laughs, her voice like a bell as her arms come around the Clan Stewardess in a long overdue hug.

"Do I ever," She replies into Suraya's ear, but her smart, glowing eyes find Zavala's as she says it. To his credit, the stoic facade doesn't so much as shift. He maintains eye contact.

When she steps back from Suraya, she offers him a smile. He's not one for hugging on the job. She won't force him into one. "Everyone here has been looking forward to your visit."

"I'm sure that's an exaggeration," Suraya muses.

Tyra leads them past familiar sights, into the patched up domicile she uses as her base of operations. "Nonsense. I don't suggest you go about trying to usher any of the Hunters back to the City, but-"

"Hunters?"

Hawthorne lays a hand on his forearm. It's neither hot or cold, just a pressure over the plating of his pauldron. "Whoa there, Commander. Don't get any ideas."

Tyra's milky gaze meets his, "A lot of the Hunters use our outpost as their base of operations. With the storm coming, it'll likely be a full house tonight."

"You've been keeping tabs on them?" Zavala asks, curious. "Ikora and I have not seen many of them, only the ones with a dedicated team tend to stay around the Tower."

She nods. "We do what we can. They usually pass through here or the EDZ, so Devrim lets me know if anything seems amiss and we report it to Suraya."

Zavala's inquisitive gaze trails to his partner for this little day trip with no less than a little awe bleeding through. Tyra laughs warmly, catching it from the corner of her eye.

"Of course, we don't account for that many of the Hunters, just a lot of the ones who were stationed on Earth leading up to the Red War."

"That's still a large number of them," Zavala crows back.

"Perhaps. It's all we can do to feed and house them overnight. This weather should do a bit for us, though I'd suggest laying low. If any of them think you might drag them back to the Tower with you, they might brave the storm." She motions for them to sit on the threadbare sofa - it's covered with a vibrant mismatching of fabrics - while she sees herself to the tiny kitchen.

Suraya shrugs. "I think I can keep him from rounding up any lost souls," She jests. "He'll have his hands full making sure I don't take off the second his back is turned."

Zavala makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes. Sedately, he drolls, "And here I thought that was the one thing I could be sure of."

An elbow meets his side. They share a glance - a loaded one - while Tyra fixes tea. Her Ghost hovers silently beside her, facing the sitting area, allowing her to see everything.

-/

"It forms over the Shard," She shouts to him as the snow turns from fluffy soft flakes that drift in a barely-there wind to heavy, sharp-seeming precipitation that dances in a tempest's gale. Her cheeks are pink, and though the wind fights her every step she moves faster to reduce her time exposed to the elements. "It's not much different than a mountain, but the latent electrical impulses seem to make it worse, almost."

Zavala hums in acknowledgement; It's lost in a particularly brutal gust that blows back Suraya's hood.

The second they're inside the barn, she exhales heavily, breathing a bit harder from exertion and cold. "Well," She says, looking at the mostly empty space. She draws her arms around herself while he slides the door closed behind them. "This brings back memories."

"It does," He agrees, stepping around her to approach the battered workbench turned war-table. "I can practically feel my ears blistering from you ranting at me."

"Hurt your feelings that badly?" She questions coolly.

He bites back a smile, keeping his back to her as he runs his hand across the wood. "Not so much. You," He shakes his head, allowing himself the slightest modicum of a laugh, "Saw right through me in a way I never thought someone could."

She shrugs, not moving from the door as he rounds the table to stand at its head. "Honestly I'm surprised Ikora didn't drop me where I stood, last time we were here."

"She disliked that you were right almost as much as she disliked that I agreed that you were right," Zavala informs her. "People take time to come around."

"But they do," Suraya supposes, shivering. "I mean, look at us."

He abandons his place at the table to wrap his arms around her, staving off the chill with a silent wink of solar energy. Cool lips find her equally cool forehead when she ducks into the embrace, savoring the warmth.

"Y'know, I always thought we'd end up getting ourselves in trouble in here," She mentions as she pulls back. He looks down at her wry grin and raises one eyebrow in an arch that should be illegal.

"I don't think so, Suraya."

"I doubt anyone's coming in here looking for us, y'know…"

"I think I can live with their assumptions," He informs her, deadpan.

That shakes her out of her playful tone immediately. "What assumptions?" Her eyes narrow. "Explain."

"You know which assumptions." He looks away, suddenly finding interest in the table. "Plenty of the Guardians here assumed we were-" He coughs.

"Go on," She goads, the smirk evident in her tone.

"Suraya…"

"I know, I know." She tilts his head back to face her, cupping his cheeks and jaw with gun-worn hands. "I know, I know. How could we have become friends, much less this," She smiles, and though she's not someone he'd call sweet, this smile definitely is. Her eyes hold his in a way that makes breathing a conscious decision, "If we were only talking war strats and fighting about morals we already shared, right?"

This time, his laugh is low and smooth, richer and more decadent than a chocolate cake. "They underestimate us," He informs her. "I won't be doing anything terribly inappropriate at this table," He informs her, maintaining that serious expression that seems to be his default. She knows better, though. "But I would very much like to kiss you now."

"By all means," She removes her hands from his face and locks them behind his neck just in time for him to close the space between their lips.

-/

"There is no way we're getting off the ground. Maybe if we'd left before we checked in with the troops but even then, it would've defeated the purpose in coming here."

Zavala looks to the sky. Suraya isn't stupid, she knows he's talking to his Ghost.

"It's not safe to pilot a ship," One of the officers informs them. "We've grounded everyone for the time being. Too many ships will be coming in, it won't be safe to send anyone out in this weather."

"I am certain my Ghost could-"

"Sir, I don't doubt you or your Ghost's abilities," The man looks sheepish, he doesn't take his eyes off the satellite report projected in front of him, "It's everyone else I'm worried about."

"You'd have Amanda close down the hangar if it got this bad," Suraya reminds him.

Zavala groans, no doubt thinking about all the work he has left to do. "I'll inform Ikora," He says, and shuffles out of the command center. It's still the dilapidated house with the too-large antenna on top of it, but the inside has been reinforced quite nicely, Suraya thinks.

"You made the right call," She says to the officer, watching as his posture eases. "He'll get over it, he doesn't know how to not be busy," She jokes. "Let me know if you guys need anything, okay?"

The soldiers all agree, and she sees herself out to the elements.

Tyra's house is warm, and she sidles past Zavala, who is murmuring quietly to Ikora through his Ghost, to join the Cryptarch in her study. There are candles lit as this room does not have working power. It isn't a necessity; Tyra can likely read in the dark thanks to her heritage (Suraya remembers Zavala suggesting something similar of his own eyesight), but it's a cozy, intimate touch.

"He doesn't know when to quit," Tyra says, without looking up.

Suraya drops into a chair adjacent to the older woman. "He means well."

"He does." She closes her book. "Devrim said you two are close," The skin around her eyes crinkles. "Partners in more ways than one."

"Devrim didn't say anything. You're supposing."

"I am not," She rasps, bringing a warm cup of tea to her mouth. "I'm quite secure in what I know."

"Oh?" Suraya crosses one leg over the other. "Which is what?"

Tyra levels her with an all-knowing gaze. "He loves you."

Suraya tells herself it's the swell of the Cryptarch’s Light that makes her blush, she's close to her, can feel the latent heat on her cheeks. She swallows, but doesn't make a sound. When he says it, it sounds right. She knows it, feels it in her soul. When other people say it on his behalf, it's strange.

"Yes?"

The Clan Stewardess sighs. "We're keeping it under wraps," She tells Tyra. "Of course Dev knows, and plenty of other people, too, but this isn't something I want the world involved in."

Setting her mug aside, Tyra asks, "And if they do find out? It's only a matter of time. Though I pride myself on my curiosity, others are far more inquisitive with significantly less tact."

"There's a difference between people knowing and people being involved. I'm not-" She huffs. "People are going to find out. I'd invite you back for the holiday - we're having a fancy dinner-thing, but I know you'd just turn me down."

"You're right," Tyra agrees, "Though I heard Saladin will be joining you. You'll have to give him my best. Two old coots at a party is one too many, and I have people here I'd like to spend time with. I'll leave him to oversee affairs. Though I would like to meet Marc one of these days, provided you could get him here."

"I'd have to drug him to get him outside the City gates." They laugh.

"I think I could send you something to help with that. Devrim deserves to see him more, don't you think?"

Suraya can't help but agree. She ignores the lingering pang at not being able to see him. She hadn't been kidding about sneaking away. She was intending to go visit him, but the weather wasn't something she wanted to contend with. On the other side of the Shard, the EDZ was likely free and clear of precipitation, but the inclimate weather at the Farm could prove fatal if one wasn't prepared (and Suraya couldn't say she was). She'd have to make another go of it, visiting her other parent once the rest of her schedule cleared, after the holiday festivities were over. Maybe they'd be able to work something out to get Devrim home for a long weekend, anything.

A creak in the floorboards breaks her train of thought. Zavala lingers in the doorway.

"Ikora said she'd handle everything until we return, but from what the Tower's sat-feeds are saying, we'll be here likely until mid-day tomorrow."

"Well, good thing we planned on feasting tonight," Tyra quips, looking to the Commander. "I'll see what we can do about finding you two a place to stay."

Back to Main Fic Post 

[kalinara]

Rip Hunter Appreciation Week #4: Ship Rip

It’s probably no secret that I lowkey ship Rip with pretty much anyone.  I’m not much of a shipper at heart, rather I’m a very focused on one character sort of fan.  So generally speaking, if a ship involves Rip I’m going to like it.

But today I thought I’d focus on the classics, the first Rip ship that I ever got invested in: Time Hex.

Now part of my love of Time Hex probably comes from the fact that Magnificent Eight was actually the first Legends episode that I saw.  I’d intended to watch the show before that, but hadn’t gotten around to it.  But it was on, and I watched and my first reaction was something like: “Are they seriously implying a relationship between Rip Hunter and Jonah Hex?  Bold move!”

So I started watching the show.  After watching the first eleven episodes and circling back to Magnificent Eight, I realized that context actually didn’t make it read less like a relationship to me.  So I’m sold.

From the way that Jonah immediately recognizes that weird people getting in bar fights means Rip Hunter’s in town, to the sweeping dramatics of their reunion (particularly in the way that Jonah keeps turning his face away, which makes a sad sort of since when Outlaw Crossing told us that he was burned after their last meeting), the “My coat suits you good” line alongside the fact that, even after losing everything else, Rip Hunter is still actually wearing that coat.

And isn’t it kind of symbolically intimate?  Like wearing an embrace?

Rip’s reaction is no better, of course.  The way he hides on the ship, and the way he immediately cuts his rant short when he meets Jonah again.  And then there’s that part where he confesses his past to his team.  The way he found the era, and its opportunities for heroism “...enticing.”  The way the writers conveniently and clumsily shoehored in “then future wife” when he mentions Miranda (as though they wanted to make sure we understood that he was not cheating on her.)

And don’t get me started on the ending scene, the music, Jonah on his horse, while Rip stands alongside.  The entire exchange where Jonah points out that for Rip, “my world ain’t going nowhere” and “I reckon it’d be okay”.

I mean honestly, it’s really hard not to just reference the entire episode here.  And then there’s the fact that Rip keeps Jonah’s wanted poster in his office.  Or all of the additional nuances implied by Outlaw Country.  (I admit to being fond of the headcanon that the escape from the church that Jonah mentions, when he doesn’t know how he actually got out, was Rip.)

I remember joking after Magnificent Eight that if and when Rip and Jonah met again, with the former now come to terms with his loss, I’d find it hard to believe they wouldn’t immediately run off to a broom closet somewhere.  Since we never actually got to see the two interact since then, even though “The Good, the Bad, and the Cuddly” actually could have given us that opportunity, I’m standing by that interpretation.  (And hey, we now have explicit precedent that Jonah gives articles of clothing to people he’s attracted to.)

I go back and forth on whether or not I think Rip and Jonah ever acted on their relationship back in Calvert.  It may depend on where you place the events in the timeline.  I admit, I personally tend to put it before the flashbacks in Marooned, if only because Rip mentions going back to his “then-future wife” in the same breath as Vanishing Point, which to me, implies she’d still be there.   I also don’t think Rip would be enticed to settle in Calvert if Miranda had already left the Bureau for him.  Also, as I referenced in one of my fanfics, I am terribly fond of a headcanon in which it was Rip getting in trouble for his relationship to Jonah that initially got Miranda’s attention in the first place.  (It would also be a nice explanation as to why they would name Jonas after him.  :-))

In the end, I’m not sure it matters.  The impression I have about the Time Masters is that sex would not be nearly as scandalous or frowned upon as romantic love would be.  Sex is easy, in a certain respect.  It’s urges and drives and indulgence, and while I’d imagine they wouldn’t exactly approve, I don’t think it’d be that much of an issue for the Council as long as their agents didn’t get attached.  But we’ve seen how the Time Masters are when it comes to interpersonal connection.  We saw how they discourage teamwork and seem to isolate their operatives.  We saw how they reacted to Miranda and Rip.  I think the true scandal, for the Time Masters, would be the emotional part of the equation.  Rip would be guilty of transgressing whether he actually slept with Jonah or not.

The advantage to Time Hex in the present day is that it’s already got its initial dynamics established.  In season one, Rip is in NO state to embark on any new romance, even if he would have been able to come to terms with the idea that Miranda and Jonas couldn’t be saved.  In season two, well, he was much too busy having his mind repeatedly ripped apart.  In season three...there are options there, I suppose, if Rip can tear his attention away from Mallus.

The advantage of Time Hex though is that, (whether acted upon or not), it’d be very easy to fall back into old patterns and drift into something a little more substantial.  Jonah can be an oasis of sanctuary and stability for someone like Rip, while Rip is a refreshing infusion of chaos that pops into his life every so often.

It’s not a “happily ever after” kind of ship for me.  Both Jonah and Rip have separate lives that they are very invested in.  I can’t imagine either character giving that up for each other.  And honestly, I wouldn’t want them too.  Likewise, I don’t imagine them being a monogamous pairing.  It just really isn’t feasible.

I imagine Jonah and Rip’s relationship would be very similar to, and this reference dates me like none other, Duncan MacLeod and Amanda’s relationship in the 90s tv show Highlander.  Jonah has a nice, fairly established, stable life that occasionally gets up-ended by the arrival of his chaotic and unpredictable ex, who always brings a new heap of trouble in his wake.  

I like to imagine now that Rip (because he absolutely survived that explosion) still pops in to visit with his old time sphere.  Jonah just has never told the Legends because they’ve never asked.