#Coup by Clam

[hetchdrive]

*sensually eats a bowl of jello to save my not-really-friends from fatal food poisoning*

[whoopseydaisy]

a name you swallow vs. a name that feels like you have a mouth full of peanut butter FIGHT!

[united-under-skyfall]

leverage is so fucking funny. man manages to find the most mentally ill and neurodivergent group of thieves on the market + an even more mentally ill guy whose literal job description was trying to chase all of them, and forces them into a found family speed-run by trying to blow them all up. they lowkey stage a full fucking country wide coup and are like eh 🤷 just another wednesday. this might be a fun place to vacation tho i guess. sophie shows up to her own funeral twice. they're so good at convincing people of their shit that they make a guy's body start reacting to an illness he doesn't have because it isn't real. go completely out on a limb and basically hand this one guy a new password for his computer so they can get into it and he goes with it. parker and hardison have straight up just "fake it 'till you make it"d into the fbi without even attempting to cover their tracks beyond just These Two Guys. half their clients never asked to be their clients and don't know they're their clients, and the other half are random people who find them who fuckin knows how, meanwhile no government agency can track them down without selling their soul to sterling. they make a point to have a dramatic scene w a Big Bad Shadowy Government Guy who doesn't actually get caught or brought to justice or anything telling them he's going to hunt them all down, and in any other show this would probably earn at least a minor arc later on but he literally never shows up again. an entire season finale hinged on a cake and a bunch of clams. they accidentally made eliot a celebrity not once, not twice, but three times. parker blew up her foster parents' house when she was like. nine. and it's hardly a footnote. hardison is just casually an artistic prodigy but it's only ever brought up for the most background of background gags. eliot's biggest beef with parker and hardison for like two and a half seasons is that they won't stop making weird food with lasers and refuse to realize they can't make a decent beer to save their lives. sophie's immediate response to being shot is to call her shooter a wanker. there's a character who has literally killed a man with a mop and they had the audacity to only put her in one episode.

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 65 : something to live for

Lady Wan explain Macaque's healing process.

The burning city was boiling from inside. Everything changed overnight. Fang was arrested, her son was killed by his own bride and General Fei claimed the leadership of the clan. People traded their wedding attires for grieving ones. The Blooms forces remained in the streets. Making sure to monitor the crowd in case some brave souls decided to rebel. Macaque didn't truly care about the city's fate if he had to be honest. He knew it wasn't his place to judge what happened, nor to intervene. They were nothing but guests here. It was time to leave.

The black-furred monkey was in the desert, outside the city's gate. He watched Sandy work on the airship, giving him a hand when the tea-lover requested it. The sun was glaring down on them with fury. The heat pressing down on their meager forms, as if trying to crush every bit of their existences. The blue giant wiped the sweat rolling down his greasy face and put a hand on the engine.

“We're ready to go!” Sung Sandy as he cleaned his hands with a white cloth. Macaque perked up, he dusted himself off and tightened his scarf around his head.

“I'll warn the others.” Hummed the black-furred monkey. It wasn't as if he hated the burning city, but even if they helped him take over, General Fei remained a Sunfire, and that meant he bore little else but disgust for shadow users. Macaque didn't want to stay in a place that abhorred his magic.

He found the others in the mansion towering over the city, bellies rounds with fresh fruits and lavish meals. General Fei was keenly aware of their strength (and how much they helped during the coup) as such he was very generous with them. Wukong, who was lazily sprawled on the floor, perked up at his arrival. He hopped on his feet and rushed towards him. The great sage was a bit clingy since they reunited. He couldn't help but linger around Macaque more than usual. Macaque didn't mind it that much. It's not as if he didn't enjoy Wukong's company.

“Sandy said that we're ready to go.” Hummed Macaque, his declaration was met with various degrees of excitement. Some happy to leave this troublesome place, others disappointed to leave so early.

Wukong put one of his arms around Macaque's shoulders and leaned over him. Macaque frowned, that wasn't usual. Wukong was an affectionate person, but he wasn't one to display their relationship in public. If anything, they both avoided being all over each other when others were present. They weren’ t ashamed of their relationship but it was still daunting to display so much care in front of others. Macaque sighed when he smelled traces of wine in his sun's breath, that explained it.

“Did you drink?” Whispered the warrior. Wukong looked up at him with glazed eyes. He didn't seem to be fully drunk, but he was definitely tipsy.

“I never refuse a good glass of wine.” Chuckled the great sage, his words were slightly slurred, as if he kept them in his mouth for a bit too long. Macaque sighed fondly, he decided to indulge the golden-furred monkey and let him latch on for now.

The macaque passed by Sock, who stirred from her well-deserved nap, and dived deeper in the mansion. Wukong stood by his side, unwilling to be apart for even one second. The warrior knocked on a door hidden within the mansion's depths, he felt his throat tighten ever so slightly. It's not as if he was nervous to meet the person behind that door. It would be ridiculous. He was just… cautious.

Lady Wan elegantly opened the door, her sharp eyes fell on Wukong's figure (who was still latching to his side like a clam unwilling to part with its rock), before settling on him. Her expression was hidden behind her bamboo fan. She was the kind to be unreadable. Xiaobo, who was in their aunt's room, perked up at Macaque's arrival and waved at him.

“Oh it's you old man!” Greeted the lamb as they hopped towards the door, peeking at him from their aunt's robe.

“Hey kiddo.” Macaque waved back, feeling a little more relaxed now that he caught sight of the lamb. “We're going to leave.”

Lady Wan nodded. “I see. We are prepared.” It was agreed after the successful overtaking of General Fei's forces that Lady Wan and her nibling would leave with them. Even if the desert held precious memories, as a shadow user Xiaobo would never truly be welcomed here, thus they had to leave. Lady Wan also had to look into Macaque's state.

The grey-furred monkey returned to her room's depth, making sure everything was correctly packed. Xiaobo lingered at the entrance. Their eyes fell on Wukong and they smirked.

“So is this the hero of your story?” Smugly asked the lamb. Macaque rolled his eyes, this little devil!

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Huffed the black-furred monkey as he tried to desperately ignore the way Wukong was nosing his neck. Xiaobo smirk widened.

“Huh huh, so this is friendly behavior?”

“Monkeys are an affectionate bunch.” Lamely retorted Macaque. Wukong wasn't really helping, he was practically purring at this point.

“Friends my ass. You two are clearly ban-”

“Langage.” Interrupted Lady Wan, she gently stopped her nibling by lightly hitting them with her fan. Macaque breathed a sigh of relief. Lady Wan's eyes then washed over the two monkeys and she smirked. “Even if they are painfully obvious with their feelings.” Macaque almost choked on his spit, this pair of aunt and nibling were devils!

It didn't take long for everyone to get on the airship. Xiaobo was immediately stolen by Mei the moment she saw them. Apparently they were too cute and she needed to take pictures of them. The lamb tried to escape but Mei was a fast one. Macaque tried not to burst out laughing at the lamb's pleading face, he hid himself in Wukong's neck to smother his chuckles. Wukong was more than happy to welcome him in his arms.

Sandy turned on the engines and they left the desert. Macaque watched the wide expanse of sand disappear in the horizon. He noticed Xiaobo intensely looking at the disappearing desert too, with something akin to longing in their eyes. Macaque could understand. It was hard to leave the only home you knew. He wanted to speak up but he didn't know what to say, so he simply stayed silent, offering his company.

“Mei didn't torment you that much?” Smugly asked Macaque after a bit.

“She's a nightmare.” Scowled Xiaobo. “But she did show me very interesting pictures.” Macaque felt a cold sweat glide down his spine. He knew Mei had a fold of embarrassing pictures of him and Wukong. The last thing he wanted was for Xiaobo to see this.

“What kind of pictures?” Tentatively asked Macaque. The lamb didn't answer, instead they left with a shit-eating grin, worrying Macaque even more.

Once the ship was more or less stabilized, drifting peacefully in the sky, Lady Wan proposed to take a look at Macaque's condition. The black-furred monkey felt nervous. He had craved for a cure for so long but now that they finally found someone willing to take a look at him, he feared the outcome. What if he was impossible to cure? Or what if the cure demanded something they couldn't give? Doubts were swirling in his head. Creeping in his very blood.

To hope was one of the sweetest feelings in the world. It pushed you forward like an encompassing wave, making you see sun-bathed horizons beyond the darker days. It made you grasp at fleeting futures, made you feel the very fabric of your dreams under your fingertips. People could feed on hope alone. For the wish to see the mirages they glimpsed in the depth of their hearts take flesh. But when the very same hope keeping you alive in the midst of a storm was ripped away from you, it left you as a shell of yourself. As if everything inside of you, every drop of your blood, has been lacerated from your very body. To realize that your hope was a lie is the most excruciating pain in the world.

Macaque wasn't sure he could go on if his deepest hope was ripped away from him. He finally had something to live for, he prayed to have the chance at truly living. He wanted it with every fiber of his being. He followed Lady Wan with a mask of nonchalance, feeling as if he wasn't even here. The grey-furred monkey shooed Wukong away, she wanted peace for her diagnosis. The golden monkey growled but he wasn't stupid enough to fight with the Jeweler. Instead he left Sock behind him as a form of comfort and let Macaque go with a kiss.

The kiss was feather-light, yet it held mountains of tenderness. Macaque felt himself relax under the familiar lips of his sun. Wukong squeezed his arm one last time before leaving, holding Macaque together with his gaze alone. The warrior held Sock in his arms and turned towards the grey-furred monkey with renewed vigor.

“You have one clingy lover.” Huffed Lady Wan as she gestured for him to sat on a wooden chair.

Macaque chuckled awkwardly , he sat down, fingers nervously playing with pieces of Sock's fur. The lil lady happily leaned in his touch, grounding him in the present moment. Lady Wan put on a monocle and approached him. Intricate seals were carved on the monocle, overlapping with each other to create a delicate artwork able to let her see beyond the flesh. Macaque wondered if it was like Wukong's golden eyes. Lady Wan looked at his chest with narrowed eyes, she scribbled some notes on her leathered notepad.

“Did you ever feel some sort of excruciating pain coming from within?” Asked the horse-monkey, her voice was flat, with no hints of emotions. Macaque nodded. He shivered at the mere memory of those strange bouts of pain.

Lady Wan then tested his reflexes and how fast his body was responding. She hit his knees with a small hammer, snapped her fingers near his ears and listened closely to his breath. Then she drew a blood sample and intently observed it. Looking at its colors, its shape, its reactivity. Macaque averted his eyes at the sight of his blood. He loathed how dark it was, how still it looked. It was the blood of a dead.

“From whom did you take magic?” Asked Lady Wan.

“Wukong.” Answered the black-furred monkey.

Lady Wan nodded, she then turned towards the lantern pieces laid on a near table. She picked one piece and turned it around, eyes softening ever so slightly. Macaque suddenly remembered that Lady Wan was the one to bring the lantern piece to the Diyu.

“From what I understood, you intended to use this?” Hummed Lady Wan. Macaque nodded, Red Son briefed Lady Wan beforehand about their plans. “It's smart.” She didn't say more than that and put down the piece. “I'm done with my diagnosis, you can call in the others.”

Macaque squeezed Sock, finding comfort in her warm body. He slowly opened the door and called for the others. Wukong was the first to rush in. He wasn't tipsy anymore, his eyes were as clear as ever. He held Macaque's shoulders and dived in his gaze with worry.

“Are you alright?”Asked the great sage. Macaque took a deep breath and nodded. He felt better now that his sun was there. Both monkeys huddled in the room with the rest of the team, they sat before Lady Wan, waiting for her input.

Lady Wan didn't seem nervous, she elegantly sat down and removed her monocle. Xiaobo sat down by her side and stayed silent.

“Curing you is not impossible but it'll be difficult.” Began Lady Wan, Macaque felt a weight fall off his shoulder. His heart fluttered with joy and he held back his tears. He could be healed. This wasn't a dream. He could be alive again! Wukong wasn't as discreet as him. He wiped away his tears of relief and pretended he was alright.

“How can it be done?” Asked Red Son, ever the practical one.

“The Six-eared Macaque's state is miraculous. Living-deads generally fade away weeks after the death of the one that brought them back. I think that as one of the four celestial monkeys your soul is more powerful than a common one, more stubborn, allowing you to survive for so long. Sun Wukong's powerful magic also, no doubt, greatly helped stabilize your fragile state.” Lady Wan picked up her notepad and skimmed over her notes. “You are very lucky, for your soul is being stretched thin and your state is critical, but I am able to stabilize it. Your healing process will be divided into two phases. First we will heal your soul, then your body. I will be able to carry the first phase but the second is beyond my expertise, in fact I believe the great sage has more knowledge than me in this matter."

Wukong raised an eyebrow at this tidbit of information, he was about to voice his questions but Macaque prevented him, he wanted the details of the two phases before drawing conclusions. Lady Wan put down her notepad and calmly resumed her speech :

“Necromancy is a tricky process. To create a living-dead one has to steal a soul from the Diyu, break it apart then glue back the shards of soul in a very crude and ugly form. Then the necromancer stuff this crude soul in a corpse and inject magic in the corpse to keep the decay away and allow it to move. A time spell is placed on the glue keeping the shards of soul together, this time spell is like a timer put on the glue, when the timer reaches zero, the glue starts to fray and the soul collapses on itself. As such, the necromancer has to renew the time spell each time it reaches its limits, it gives them a leverage over the living-dead and enables them to threaten them. Living-deads generally don't last once the necromancer is gone because no one is there to renew the timer, and thus their souls collapse. The body also has to regularly be fed on magic to keep the decay at bay. If not, it will rot. The pains you were experiencing are because the glue holding your soul together is starting to fray, your soul is…collapsing.”

Macaque gulped, he felt a cold sweat glide down his spine. He heard Wukong's growl at his side and immediately took his hand in his. The mere thought of what he was, of what the wraith did to him was revolting, violating. She broke him down and rebuilt him as a puppet. As a tool for her to use as she pleases. Lady Wan allowed them a moment to gather their spirits, then she detailed the healing process :

“The first step will be the most crucial. I will have to first remove the time spell making your soul fray and then properly glue back your soul together. For that I will need the great sage's magic to create the glue, for it is somehow compatible with you… it will be a dangerous operation, if I fail you… you will not make it.” Macaque shivered at the mere notion of not making it, but he didn't have any other choices at this stage. “Once your soul is glued back together, with no timer imbued in it, it will need magic to heal. Your soul has been abused and it stubbornly held on until now, it is weary and tired. It needs magic, energy to heal. But if we give magic to you, your body siphons it before it can reach your soul. This is where the lantern comes into play. I will rebuild it and link it to your soul, as such it will act as your soul's personal reservoir of magic. With time and effort, and with the help of magic, your soul will be able to slowly heal itself.” Lady Wan reclined on her chair and picked up her fan, she slowly fanned herself. “Now to bring your body back to life… We cannot use healing magic, as it is a sub-use of time magic, and turning back time on your body will have… dreary consequences. To bring your body back to life you need a form of immortality. Unfortunately, I don't have any immortality to give and I am not an expert on the matter, I believe the great sage knows more than me on this subject.”

Wukong perked up, he placed a hand on his chin and thought about it.

“Don't even think of stealing shits from Heaven again.” Growled Macaque, he didn't want a repeat of their past mistakes. The last time they offended Heaven it broke them apart. Macaque would never forgive himself if they brought Heaven's wrath on them because of him.

Wukong averted his eyes and awkwardly scratched his neck. “I, huh, I kept some seeds of immortal peaches in my treasure trove but I don't know how to grow them. Last time I tried it didn't work.”

“Can't you ask someone about it?” Hummed Tang as he pushed his glasses on his nose.

Wukong sighed. “I can ask the peach maiden but I don't know if they'll be willing to help me…” The golden-furred monkey squeezed Macaque's hand and added : “But I don't care, even if I have to grovel at their feet.”

Macaque felt greatly relieved, even if the process was dangerous, even if it would be no doubt painful, he was willing to risk it. The black-furred monkey looked down at his intertwined hands and gently caressed Wukong's bruised knuckles with the pad of his finger.

He was willing to risk it all because he had something to live for now.

Ch 1 / Previous / Next

[sophsun1]

FARSCAPE

4.10 Coup By Clam

[plethomacademia]

Had a lunch fit due to this picture of Enver pouring wine on himself. Maevetash, M rating for blood and a sideways reference to sex, 681 words, Gort provokes Maeve by pouring wine on his chest when she is in Blood Weirdo mode

Maeve puts her fingers to Enver Gortash’s chest, just above his heart, and begins to trace. She cannot say whether or not her movement is accurate, whether she is faithfully following the flow of the blood being pumped out from his heart, heavy with oxygen fresh from his lungs. Once her fingertips touch his open collar, she goes back to try again.

She hears the slurp of him taking another drink, and then the wet sounds of his mouth as the liquid is sent down his esophagus. She looks to the middle of his chest, imagining the red wine going underneath the path of his red blood.

“You are distracted,” he says and she feels his words in her hands.

“Distracted from what?” she says, looking up to see him watching her. “We aren’t doing anything.”

It is half true. They are at rest after a hearty meal and a hearty debate over whether a historical coup had been a success or a failure. Maeve had argued the former (the coup had in fact succeeded), Enver had argued the latter (the government formed in its aftermath had quickly collapsed). They have settled on the couch of his study and she has allowed him to put his arm around her. Finally, she has relaxed into it and now they they are in the in-between space: the time period after the excuse for their coming together and before the battle to convince her to stay for just a little while longer.

“You would like to though, I think,” he says.

“You like to think that you that know what I would like, I think,” she replies.

He moves his glass back to his lips. “Mm,” he hums as he takes a sip.

Maeve looks back to her hand, paused above his right pectoral and the lovely layer of fat that his fine life has put over it. She moves it back to his heart.

Suddenly, her vision is filled with red.

She feels herself freeze and she anticipates copper, she anticipates iron, she anticipates a thick trail of sticky clinging red that drips fast and then slow as it grabs onto itself, trying to stop itself from pouring, the kind that could coat a tongue, maybe a throat if you are greedy.

Instead, there is a splash, followed by the smell of oak and grapes, a red burst that dissipates into a thin film in between the hair on his chest and belly. She looks to his face again and finds him smiling, his wine glass held nearly horizontally, just high enough to keep him from spilling even more of the drink onto himself.

“What are you doing?!” she says and she hates how it sounds coming out.

“Testing a theory,” he says. He smiles at her and she knows he heard it, the surprise and worse, the betrayal when the red liquid was not the one that she wanted.

“Perhaps I will test my own theories, Lord Gortash.” She pushes herself to sitting, then slings a leg over his lap. This lets her put both hands on his chest and she digs in her thumbs, presses them both into his sternum. She does not let up until his skin is white from the pressure, then hooks each finger, as if she might decide at any time to open his chest like a clam.

“Oh come now, you have long decided that I am best kept alive. But,” he says, making sure that she is listening before he continues, “if you desire to carve me up, I am always amenable to seeing you exercise your lovely control, Slayer.”

She feels him already hardening underneath her bottom and she pushes down hard, enough to earn her a wince. “You are a reckless fool, Enver Gortash.” She lets herself extend a single nail, a piece of her father’s power, just enough to fill the white divot underneath of her thumbs with red, proper red, thick and pooling. She breathes in the scent of him. “One day, I won’t bother to bring you back from it.”

[this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it]

I know the Farscape fandom has pretty much decided that Jeremiah Crichton is the worst episode of the series, but even though I’m not a huge fan of that episode, I think Vitas Mortis is by far the worst episode of the series. There are actually a bunch of episodes that I like less than Jeremiah Crichton. These are just personal taste because I know for a fact that some of these episodes are objectively a lot better than Jeremiah Crichton.

I would watch Jeremiah Crichton over any of these episodes:

Vitas Mortis

I, E.T.

That Old Black Magic

Crackers Don’t Matter

Won’t Get Fooled Again

Incubator

Dream a Little Dream

Lava’s a Many Splendored thing

Coup by Clam

Mental As Anything

Constellation of Doubt

[dangermousie]

Farscape Rewatch - 2x07 and 2x08

Not my fave eps (in fact, 2x08 Dream a Little Dream is my least fave ep in the season and in my bottom three eps of the show) so not too much to say.

Home on the Remains 2x07

The start of D’Argo x Chiana, a glorious secondary ship.

I love the visuals of the pollen floating through the ship. I love that you can never feel entirely comfortable with Zhaan because underneath her calm, even good demeanor, there is madness waiting to peep out and the show never lets you forget it. Here it really manifests when she is in starvation mode and it’s scary and surreal and oddly beautiful. For Zhaan, like for many other of the characters, being good, doing good is not the default - it’s a conscious, hard-won choice and I love that.  Second comment is that we get some glimpse into what Chiana’s life was before Moya, and why she was all spikes when she came on board. Her loyalty is manifest here as is her lack of self-worth: she is OK with whoring herself to get Zhaan a meal(!!!!!) (and I love how both John and D’Argo would much rather kill the guy). And so is her darkness: she kills the guy in a pretty gruesome way and doesn’t dwell on it for a second. I really do think she is the one who killed the Nebari keeper in the ep she first appeared. And also here is the start of Chi and D’Argo. I squealed at the kiss when I first saw it and get !!! on every rewatch. I loved how complicated this OTP was and how invested I was and how their flaws and strengths both intertwined into it.

And some of my fave quotes are here. I love Aeryn’s snide ‘I get to babysit the blooming blue bush and you get to play with your favorite little tralk’ and Crichton’s ‘you can eat anything if it’s fried’ is sort of a catchphrase in the Mousie household. I also love the scene with Rygel on the sled and Rygel biting John and John biting back. Yeah. This show was gloriously unhinged. 

Not a favorite ep but enjoyable enough, which is more than I can say, with few exceptions for the ep that follows.

Dream a Little Dream 2x08

This is my most fast-forwarded S2 ep ever. Honest. Blah. 

But even a truly bad ep has some glorious exchanges.

Anyway, this ep is largely a flashback by Zhaan about what happened to her, China and Rygel between end of s1 and start of s2. Zhaan goes crazy while being framed on planet of evil lawyers. Rygel and Chiana save her. Blah. End of flashback.

I’ve read someone say that the problem with this episode is that since it’s a flashback we have no tension. We know everyone will be OK. But I don’t think that is the case. After all, do we really expect Crichton et al to be bumped off at a random ep? No, but we still get excited about the eps (of course, DALD takes it further as we know everything will return to status quo we know now but still…) And we just a few eps ago had The Way We Weren’t which was largely set three years prior to the premiere episode and it’s one of the best eps of the season. For me, the flashback is not the problem. I think this is the ep that reiterated for me that while I find Zhaan and Rygel interesting in small dozes, an ep centered around them is not really my thing. And I love Chiana, but probably ditto unless she is interacting with someone other than them. Basically, my character order of preference goes: John, Aeryn, D’Argo, Chi etc etc. And an ep where my top 3 characters are absent (minus a very very cool hallucination) drags. The plot is also not scintillating. In fact, to call it simplistic with truly boring characters except for the regulars is to compliment it. Oh well, they can’t all be winners and Farscape had way less losers than most (after this ep, I adore every single ep until S4′s Coup by Clam - every single ep and that’s insane.) I do love Chiana and Rygel as trial lawyers, utterly hopped up and themselves in wiggle room exploitation. And the courtroom design is very neat. But that is about it.

Also, this is a small framing scene but I do love how, once again, John is the one who believes that talking it out helps. He gets more and more hardened but he still believes in talking it out, even if it’s now limited solely to those he loves (that is why in part the end of 2x22 DMD hits so hard - John lying there, agreeing to a procedure that will render him mute, because, as he says, there is nobody he want to talk to anyway and nothing to say. One of the worst times he’s been broken thoroughly; though he always manages to reassemble himself somehow.)

I do love Zhaan and John’s bond. I will always love Farscape for many reasons but one of them is creating all these powerful, complex women and not having them be love interests for the male lead. Crichton’s relationships with important female characters are varied - with Zhaan here she’s the older sister in so many ways - but except for Aeryn, they are never romantic, and very very rarely sexual (and if we remove Grayza where the sexual element is not by his choice, the rarity becomes even more pronounced) and I love that.

[soulsxng]

"What were you thinking?!"

"Zae, please, darling...I was only trying to provide for you--"

Mattias' hand only just brushes Zahine's arm when a resounding slap echoed through the room. The halfling glaring daggers at his husband as he stopped pacing and smacked the offending hand away from himself.

"Provide? Provide what, Mattias? We're doing well enough as it is-- and that aside, Elyki doesn't exist to make a profit! We exist to help the people that aren't able to speak or act for themselves against the powers above them! How does inciting a riot out of nowhere accomplish that?"

"Ahnia has been unstable for nigh on twenty years now! If the people there didn't want change, there wouldn't be a growing coup there in the first place. It's obvious that they want Tahariel on the throne-- as they should! He's done more for Ahnia than Lierik and Kalliah for it. More than any of their spawn have done for it!"

Zahine falls quiet, and the already chilly air in the room goes absolutely frigid. For a while, it's all that he can do to stare at Mattias, but when he does finally speak again, his voice is low. Low, and unnervingly smooth.

"...What did he give you?"

It's Mattias' turn to clam up, now. Though he tries at first to stammer out a halfhearted response, he eventually gives up. Reaching out with both hands in an attempt to take Zahine's, who steps back and out of his reach.

"Don't touch me. I asked you a question, Mattias. What did Tahariel Elohim give you, for taking the deal that I said we were turning down? Because I really, truly hope that it was worth the price of putting every single person here in danger!"

He gestures toward the other members of Elyki, who were seated about the room, silent and still as the dead. Watching the argument between their leaders as it unfolded before them.

"I hope that it was worth allowing Blackwood and Duva'li to be imprisoned. That it was worth my baby being imprisoned!" Mattias continues trying to approach as Zahine's voice climbs to a shout again, his expression darkening when Zahine pushed him away.

Always, with those two fucking brats. It hadn't escaped Mattias' notice that Melchior wasn't present for this meeting. And 'his baby'? Mattias had to admit, he did prefer Eluvias-- the younger of the manticore brothers that Zahine had taken in all those years ago-- over Melchior...but hey. He knew that there was a risk of capture when he went on the job. (not that he'd had the choice) Maybe he should have been faster with his escape.

Golden gaze flicked about the room, taking in each face that surrounded he and his husband, before reaching out to snatch Zahine by the arm. His beloved struggled against him as he was dragged from the room, but the Ahniri was quick to grab up a fistful of grey hair and give it a firm (but not yet painful-- it was still a warning) tug backward.

Though Zahine was compliant after that; following Mattias to their bedroom to continue their conversation more privately, Mattias could tell that he was furious.

...But that was alright. Be it happiness or anguish, determination or fury, his Zae always had, and always would be the most perfect thing to him.

Even negative attention from a being so flawlessly ethereal was attention, after all...and Mattias was more than happy to lap up whatever Zahine was willing to give.

[boypussydilf]

coup by clam is certainly. an episode of farscape. but damn if john crichton didnt look great in drag

[sophiecatstiredofmodernism]

The "coup by clam" episode of Farscape.

i'm founding a new school of media criticism which i've decided to call Bitism. the Bitist school of literary analysis asks a simple question: is this work committed to the bit?

you see, any work of fiction is either committed to the bit or it's not. the worst thing a piece of media can be is ashamed of its own premise, of the genre it in habits, of the tropes and aesthetics we expect from it. to be committed to the bit does not inherently make it good, but it makes it more worthy of respect than those which are not.

also, that's not to say that a story cannot parody or criticize the genre it inhabits or mimics. we can discuss the bit, we can deconstruct the bit, we can ask ourselves whether or not it's a good bit, but to commit to it first will strengthen these discussions, not detract from them. commitment to the bit is, after all, the first step to genuine sincerity. and sincerity will exalt and elevate parody such that it can stand on its own feet.

commitment to the bit turns melodrama into camp, elevates parody to biting commentary, and allows cringe to open up into a resonant, if unpolished, expression of true emotion.

fully expect bitism to take the literary world by storm sometime in the next few years.

[thechurn]

coup by clam has to be the horniest fucking episode so far. good lord

[marnie85]

4x10 - Coup By Clam

[freckleslikestars]

I’m 100% serious when I say I’ve said jirl power more times in my life than I’ve ever said girl power

[toshsato]

FARSCAPE: COUP BY CLAM