#Love to contribute to this dead show continuing to have posts happening

[roxyandelsewhere]

After riverdale buttonsonas and at the request of no one I figured I had to do cw supernatural buttonsonas. Picture for a moment, spn without the actormen. Stop motion animation, like puppets, like Terry Gilliam cutouts. Remake the show on sheets of paper Dogville style. Are you picking up what I'm putting down

[butterflywithsass]

The good, the bad, and the ineffable omens. What makes Good Omens special.

I'm not very good at making posts on here so sorry if the formatting sucks. It's the anniversary of season two, and thinking back on everything, it's incredible how much has happened since it came out. I might get a bit long-winded, so if that's not your thing, just scroll on by. I'm just gonna take a look at why I love Good Omens, why I love the Good Omens fandom, and what the future holds for all of us who love this story.

I guess you could say I'm a bit of a new fan. I watched the first season in 2019. I liked it but I didn't really think about it until I heard it was getting a second season, and I decided to watch it again.

This second watch came at a very strange time in my life. I'd left my very introverted homeschool life behind to go to an art school in another state. I was studying creative writing, and just beginning to dream that I might be an actual writer someday. I've always gotten intensely invested in stories, a part of my ADHD that I've always struggled with. I find a story, and it consumes my soul. I have difficulty expressing emotions in real life, so stories have been an outlet for me to feel things in the persona of a character. It's this incredible power that makes me love storytelling so much. I could go on and on about the beauty of this, but that will get a bit to much so I'll move on. Mah point is...

whenever I would get really invested in a story, my parents would indulge me, but would always feel the need to mention, "You know it's not real, right?"

Anyway, for the first time, I was away from home and I could really indulge in stories without the pressure to disconnect from it to avoid the judgment of my family. For the first time, I could just be in love with a story.

A lot happened during the first year away from home, not all of which is relevant, but around this time I started owning up to my identity as bisexual. Being at an art school meant I was surrounded by queer people from all backgrounds, not all of them had the same support I did, and I witnessed secondhand as my friends went through the pain of having homophobic families who would control what art they made and who they spent time with, threatening to withdraw them from the school if they used certain names or pronouns. It was common for my friends to have a sort of shorthand code for when it was safe to use their preferred name or pronoun. Some came from very religious households, and so religion had been linked very closely to repression.

Good Omens came at a time when I was stretching my wings both in my identity as a person and as a writer and has informed what I write about ever since. As a writer, my work often focuses on themes such as fate and free will, religion and passion, divinity and humanity, and apocalyptic images. Additionally, Good Omens encouraged me to embrace comedy in my writing and to explore the absurd and whimsical. It helped me let go of the vice that held me back from writing things I thought weren't intellectual enough, or weren't creative enough.

I also became aware of the people behind the show, and of course, I grew to admire Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I admired how Neil Gaiman seemingly defied the inevitable fate of obscure and unsuccessful writers. To me, Neil Gaiman was an example of how writers could actually make it out there in the world. Terry Pratchett, I admit, took less of an interest in because he had been long dead before I became acquainted with Good Omens, and I mistakenly gave Neil Gaiman more credit for the tv show. If you want to know more about why I saw "mistakenly," check out @vidavalor where they talk about the other writers on the show and how much they contributed. It's really quite eye-opening and it gives me hope that the show can continue well enough without Gaimen.

I also grew to become a fan of David Tennent and Micheal Sheen. And when I say a fan of David Tennent, I mean a BIG fan. The Good Omens to Doctor Who pipeline is so f*cking steep I felt like Crowley during the fall. Not just Who, though, I watched stuff like Taking Over the Asylum, Einstein and Eddington, Around the World in 80 Days, Broadchurch, Jessica Jones, Escape Artist, f*king Single Father lol. I even got into Shakespeare because of David Tennent.

The love displayed by the actors for Good Omens feels truly special. Micheal Sheen's devotion to the story shines through in everything he says about it, and David Tennent, though not originally a fan, seems to have grown more and more fond of the story. I think it's not a reach of our imagination to say that the story has become very special to both of them, even more so than to us.

It's rare to see actors treat their roles as more than just a job. The occasional publicity stunt and press tour interviews aside, the roles actors take seldom stick with them, and I think it's a testament to the power of Good Omens that this is not the case for Micheal and David.

Season 2 came out of course, and we all know how that went down. I was has heartbroken as everyone else by the final 15, but I never had any doubt that the story was destined to have a happy ending.

Unlike some shows, where the story likes to flirt with tragedy to keep viewers hooked, Good Omens is not that kind of show. Amidst the pathos and drama of the Christian/Apocalypse setting, with literal heaven and hell involved, the story is relatively clean. I enjoy some Ineffible Husbands spicy fanfiction of course, but I'm glad that Good Omens has remained relatively kid-friendly. Queer themes are so often included only in "adult media," paired with dark themes and often explicit moments making them inaccessible to kids and cementing the idea that Queerness is inherently inappropriate. While Good Omens has the occasional adult reference such as Madam Tracy's side gig as a dominatrix or the 'seamstress,' they are veiled enough to pass. Even the sex scene with Anathama and Newt is comic enough that it can hardly be classified as one. As for heaven and hell, it would be easy to try and stress the darkness of hell through plenty of disturbing subtexts and the brutality of heaven, but here the show errs towards comedy, portraying both sides as corporate systems -- both funny and much more relatable evil than torture or traumatic scenes. It's easier to understand rude co-workers, degrading comments, overbearing bosses and endless paperwork than it is to understand the sources of our perception of good and evil.

Putting Adam Young as the center of the story of season one focuses the entire narrative. At the end of the day, Good Omens is about the ineffable nature of humanity defying all odds (or gods) betting against it. It's a humanist story, showing us that no matter how much the forces of good or evil might like to influence us, whatever we do will up to us.

This theme is constantly referenced, from Crowley's habit of taking credit for anything evil humans do and claiming it was his idea, to Aziraphale's constant assertions that humans are inherently good. It's exemplified by the baby swap disaster, which is a microcosm of this theme. No matter how much the powers above and below might scheme, they're plans generally end up being irrelevant to the choices of humans.

It's why Crowley and Aziraphale love humans so much. Humans are a guide for them, showing them how they can be more than just good and evil, and on our side, it's a hopeful thought to have, that the powers of good and evil looking down on us, instead of judging us, might actually have fallen in love with us along the way. It shows us that we are allowed to love ourselves.

The love that Aziraphale and Crowley have for each other is also at the heart of this story. While it has been discussed at length, it's for good reason. Because we all need a good love story. Amidst the uncertainty and ceaseless change, there is a constant, unbreaking bond between Crowley and Aziraphale-- steady as the revolution of the cosmos. Nothing in the scope of space and time is certain, but this is. We know that because we've seen it. Good Omens manages to create a love story on both a personal and an archetypal scale. On one level, this is a love story between two people from different worlds finding something familiar in each other. It's got the drama of starcrossed love, the steadiness of an age-old love, still with the butterflies of new feelings. As a queer love story, the hope in it is even more important.

Crowley and Aziraphale have all the qualities of two characters that are doomed by the narrative, and as much as I love those types of stories, this is a story about hope and it demands a happy ending. After all, if those two idiots can't get a happy ending, what hope do the rest of us have?

All this is to say, that while the final 15 was shattering emotionally, and still is, I never once doubted that all would be well eventually.

The recent accusations against Neil Gaiman came as a shock to me. I admittedly didn't know all that much about him as a person, but I looked up to him as a writer, as I said. The more that is revealed, the more truthful they become. I hoped that these allegations would end up as a big misunderstanding, and I questioned the timing just after David Tennent was attacked online for his support of the lgbtq community. However, the more information about Gaimen comes to light, the less it looks like a mistake.

This leaves us in a difficult position. It is not selfish to worry about the future of Good Omens. It is not foolish to be surprised. It is not naive to feel betrayed. It would be easy to come to the conclusion that 'no one should be trusted,' or to feel that the whole story has been tainted. It's so easy to write off the whole story as 'ethically complicated' so you don't have to examine your feelings critically. It's easy to 'boycott,' something so you don't have to deal with it, as if by not engaging with it, it's not real. I would urge you not to do this. boycotting a story is not as simple as just refusing to buy a product. Stories are part of culture and identity, to a certain extent, the person you are hurting the most is yourself.

There's a reason I spent so long describing why Good Omens is such an incredibly powerful story, because Neil Gaiman's actions negate none of that. The meaning of Good Omens is not dependent on the actions of the author. A truth is still true, even from the mouth of a liar.

Before I loved Good Omens, I loved Harry Potter. Despite JK Rowling's general shittiness, Harry Potter has brought goodness to people's lives, and even though some themes in the story ought to be examined more critically, the joy and comfort those stories brought also cannot be ignored. I was ten when I started reading Harry Potter. I was too young to grasp the homophonic or anti-semetic undertones in the story, and ironically, Harry Potter taught me to by an ally before I even knew I was queer. Before reading Harry Potter, I didn't know what gay was. After hearing Dumbledore was 'gay,' I did a google search and looked up the term in a dictionary. I remember my thoughts being, "you can do that?" and then, "why are people so upset?"

The point of this Harry Potter tangent is to say that while the intentions of the author may influence a story, the author ultimately can't control the effect the story will have on others. Once it is published, a significant part of it no longer belongs to them. They can't control what messages other people find in it, and they lose the right to decide what messages are true or not. If Neil Gaimen were to say today that Good Omens is all a very complicated metaphor for masturbation, that announcement would mean zilch.

Additionally, Neil Gaiman isn't even the only author! You don't have to give him all that credit to start with. Once again, refer to @vidavalor for info on the other amazing people who may have had a bigger hand in writing our favorite moments that we thought.

The Good Omens fandom has taught me not to be ashamed for loving a fictional story. I've been in the Lotr, Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Marvel, Sherlock, and countless other fandoms, and I can easily say that Good Omens is the most supportive, the most accepting, the most decent online fan community I've found.

We can hang in there. We've loved Good Omens since the book came out, we've loved Good Omens since before I was born, and we loved it even when we lost Terry Pratchett. We loved Good Omens when we thought there would never be a show, and when we thought one season was all there would be. Good Omens has so many kind and talented people behind it and so much love for it. Neil Gaimen will not sink us now. He doesn't have that much power.

@davidtennantgenderenvy also has a video on this that is very thoughtful.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

More songfic angst, but this is more canon-compliant...sorry. But this song just fits. Inspired by @strawberryspence's initial post with Steve becoming a musician with dead Eddie as his muse.

Steve Harrington of the Corroded Coffin is known for many types of songs. He sings rock ballads, slower solo things, yells to some old school metal with his bandmates even. He is charismatic, kind, smiles at all his fans and friends, contributes to charities, both with money and his time.

But he's very reserved and no one really understands who he really is, what he is like behind his carefully crafted mask. No matter how many times interviewers ask, he just smiles and deflects. Sometimes mentions his hometown of Hawkins, the mysterious Indiana town that was home to many tragedies and never fully healed from it.

March is a strange month for the Corroded Coffin. It seems that no matter what is happening in the world of music, all the members are simply gone for a few weeks. "Personal reasons", that's what they say.

It isn't until 1996 that the fans learn something about not just Steve Harrington, but all of the Corroded Coffin members. They are all shocked to hear that CC will play at a huge music festival - in March. This is the first time the band members are seen in public on this date and when they walk onto the stage, there is something slightly off about them. Something tense.

Steve clears his throat and looks at his friends, as if seeking their permission. Then he leans into the microphone. "Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming. We, uh...we have something different for you today. Something special that we wanted to share because it's...it's time. It's been ten years and thanks to all of you, to your support, we don't need to stay silent anymore. So...we have a new song for you, but it's not just for you. It's for a man we all knew and admired."

He straightens his spine and takes a deep breath, his fingers running restlessly on the red and black guitar he always uses, ten years and this is the only electric guitar he's performed with. "The man we wrote this song for was our friend. He was odd and eccentric, loud and some people found him obnoxious. But he was the bravest, kindest and most creative soul I've ever had the privilege of meeting."

The other Corroded Coffin members are smiling now, a bit pained but smiles nevertheless, nodding to Steve's words. The drummer, Gareth, is clutching his wrist, over a bracelet he never takes off.

"Corroded Coffin was his. He...he should be standing here, in front of you. Not me. The guitar you're asking about all the time? It was his. And while I never had the pleasure of hearing him perform, I've heard he was the best. He got all of the guys together, suggested the name, always hounded them to practice."

Jeff chuckles and shakes his head. "He could be really persuasive."

Steve continues, his voice stronger now. "He loved life more than anything, he found magic in the most mundane of things. He also smoked like a chimney and ate cereal by handfuls, no milk, no bowl." He laughs at this, the wrinkles around his eyes harsh in the stage lights. "He was a menace. But he saved my life and the lives of people dearest to me. He was brave, almost to a fault." Steve's voice drops at this, becomes colder, clearer. "But that's not what the world knows him as. So today, in front of all of you. Let me tell you the story of the man who brought us here - Eddie Munson."

The crowd grows restless now, some people recognizing the name, others blinking in confusion. But Steve presses on, doesn't give them a pause. "Eddie was from our hometown of Hawkins. He failed his senior year twice, but that only shows you that schools don't have it all figured out because that man was smart. There was a series of murders in Hawkins, in March of 1986. And Eddie was blamed for it because...because he liked metal. And Dungeons and Dragons. So of course, in the eyes of our lovely town, he worshipped the devil. He was the weirdo, the outcast, and that was enough to start a manhunt for him."

He turns back to his bandmates, taking in their faces. The paleness, the tightness of their lips. The injustice burns to this day.

"Eddie didn't commit those murders. He was there when they happened, he saw them, but he was paralyzed, terrified. No one should ever see the things he saw. He couldn't have saved anyone then, and we think that's what haunted him. That's...that's why..." His voice breaks down and he shudders, raising his hand at the increasing noise from the audience.

"That's why, when the Red earthquake of 1986 hit Hawkins, Eddie didn't run. He stayed behind. Saved me, my friends...and died for it, knowing he'd be blamed for everything in the end. Like he still is. We pleaded with the police, asking them to reopen his case, to clear his name, but...Eddie was dead. And the story was pretty convenient. They refused to listen or do anything and we felt...helpless. Paralyzed too."

Steve looks directly at the audience now, his voice ringing out over the sudden silence. "But we are done being silent. Thanks to all of you, we have a voice now. We can tell the truth. And the truth is - Eddie Munson was innocent. He died a hero and is still paying price for small town prejudice. So Eddie," he points upwards, to the heaven, "this one is for you. For you and for your uncle who still believes in you to this day, who loves you just as we do."

The song they play makes it to national news. It sparks many controversies, critique, but it can't be silenced, too many people heard it. Radio stations want to play it, along with a summary of Steve's speech.

Eventually, after years and months of silence...Eddie's name is cleared. The public pressure forced the Hawkins PD to reveal they had nothing tying Eddie to the murders, no direct evidence. It feels like too little, too late, but it's at least something.

And in a new trailer in Hawkins, Wayne Munson sits on his couch, clutching a tape case in his fingers and listens to the song that brought his boy's voice back.

Two packs of cigarettes a day The strongest whiskey Kentucky can make That's a recipe To put a vagabond on his hands and knees I watched it all up close I knew him more than most I saw a side of him, he never showed Full of sympathy For a world that wouldn't let him be

That's the man he was Have you heard enough?

What a shame, what a shame To judge a life that you can't change The choir sings, the church bells ring So, won't you give this man his wings? What a shame, to have to beg you to see We're not all the same What a shame

There's a hard life for every silver spoon There's a touch of grey for every shade of blue That's the way that I see life If there was nothing wrong Then there'd be nothing right And for this working man, they said, could barely stand There's gotta be a better place to land Some kind of remedy For a world that wouldn't let him be

That's the man he was Have you heard enough?

God forgive the hands that laid you down They never knew how Much your broken heart can break the sound And change the season Now the leaves are falling faster Happily ever after You gave me hope through your endeavors And now you will live forever

What a shame, what a shame To judge a life that you can't change The choir sings, the church bells ring So, won't you give this man his wings? What a shame, to have to beg you to see We're not all the same What a shame

[thelioncourts]

I mean are they gonna completely get rid of all those characters lestat hooks up with though? I think what’s causing all this anxiety about Jacob on the show is that you can’t really keep most of the storylines from the books and NOT have him be a supporting player at best. All these stories are about Lestat and his ho of the month. Either that or they scrap a lot of stuff in the books post TVL. Also it was the initial casting call that says Louis was a 2 season role vs lestat 5. Way before Jacob was ever cast. Also personally I’d rather he leave the show so I can stop watching then see him get pushed to the side and only show up one episode a season to be exasperated w/ Lestat.

I know you probably intended for a lot of this to be rhetorical and/or more of a general talking point, and I want to first point out that I totally get where you're coming from, and I next want to point out that if my answer here isn't extremely detailed, it's because I do feel like most of what I have had to say I have already said. I don't -- I don't actually know anything, I'm making guesses (educated ones, mind you! but guesses nonetheless) and am doing so with optimism because I simply have to for my own sanity.

What I will say about "Lestat and his ho of the month" stuff is that in a mostly complete (but not totally complete) list of Lestat's loves that I made on the last list (Nicki, Gabrielle, Louis, Akasha, David, Dora, Gretchen, Rowan, Antoine), we know that Nicki is dead; Nicki is in the past and while his story will be told, it's over. Antoine is Antoinette, we know that fate, and, as I said in the previous asks, whatever weird stuff Lestat has with his mom will (most likely) not be explored on a romantic level given the audience and network. That leaves us with Louis, Akasha, David, Dora, Gretchen, and Rowan really.

We know Louis. Love of Lestat's life. Soulmate. His muse!

Akasha is going to happen in a non-romantic, no doubt horrific, way.

Dora and Gretchen are not important. I don't say that trying to be mean or whatever, but they simply are not important. The stories they are part of can truly happen without them and I feel like it would be a waste of television time to try to work in their minor roles.

Rowan, as I stated in the last ask, is something Anne says she regrets. I hope, out of respect for Anne and for good storytelling, they don't even consider it. I also, however, have far less faith in Mayfair continuing long enough to ever even get to that point though so...

And then there's David. David is only important in TVC for his contributions of storytelling the other vampires' lives. There have already been a lot of theories that David won't ever come to exist within the show and his work will be relegated to Daniel and/or Louis as a means of keeping Eric in the show as well as Jacob. I think it would make more sense to give most to Daniel and work it from there, but either way, I hope these theories hold some truth and I never have to actually see David Talbot and that mess on screen.

I also think there is a lot to have Louis be part of if they choose to. Louis is always in Lestat's life, even when Anne was pushing him to the side, and I don't think it would be hard to make him a constant. I also have a theory that Trinity Gate (the place Louis lives with Armand at for, like, almost 15 years in the book and he's away from Lestat during) is sort of what we're witnessing in Dubai and, therefore, is not yet another era of separation for Loustat. Again, just a theory, but one based in educated guesses.

I could go on as to what I think Louis may be up to in later seasons, but I truly don't really know. I feel like we'll all have a better idea post-season 2, but I really do believe we're going to have him long-term. I wouldn't just be saying that if I didn't believe it. In fact, if there's one thing I believe above all else, I believe that this show cannot succeed without both Sam and Jacob. They are both amazing and beautiful actors individually, but together they are something else entirely and people will notice the lack of it and people will be upset by it should it not be in the show.

As for your last bit, I didn't know the original contracts were like that; I think it makes sense, I get why they did it, and I can talk about that too. But I also don't think Rolin Jones is going to say all he did without intention of backing it up, especially because the fandom is loud enough to call that shit out were it to happen.

And lastly, I do agree; if the show were to sideline Louis dramatically in the way the books do, I would also want Jacob to go somewhere where he's appreciated and his talents are being used and he can show off his beautiful skills and face. But I also truly believe the show wants to utilize him as an actor and see the worth of him. I do. And I hope I'm right there because to be proven wrong would be a devastation.

[gay-jesus-probably]

So one of my christmas gifts was a book called The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard, and so far I’m very much enjoying it. It was written by one of the survivors of the Terra Nova Antarctica expedition, and basically describes the whole expedition, the various side missions that survived, and the tragedy of Scott’s attempt at the South Pole.

What I’m enjoying most is that this was published back in 1922, and apparently a lot less fucks were given about focusing on the narrative and telling a coherent story, because my man Cherry-Garrard is all over the place, and the ship hasn’t even made land in Antarctica yet. There’s been multiple descriptions of the daily post-dinner sing-a-longs, and the spontaneous ones that tended to just happen whenever things got bad. Their main method of coping with stress was to just start singing ridiculous songs at the top of their lungs. Almost all of them were completely tone deaf. Anyone who refused to contribute to the daily singing had to either make up a limerick or add money to the group wine fund.

Several paragraphs were dedicated to describing the ships cat in loving detail, and how they made him his own little hammock and used up fair amount of their camera film just taking pictures of him. The cat’s name cannot be repeated on the grounds that it was 1910, the cat had completely black fur, and you can probably see where this is going. One crewmember jumped into the ocean to pull the kitty out after he fell in.

The book also keeps getting derailed by Cherry-Garrard getting distracted rambling about how god damn delightful penguins are. This man loves them, it’s the sweetest thing. He interrupted his own introduction to ask me to go read a different book about adelie penguins, admitted that it had literally nothing to do with his story and wouldn’t be at all relevant, but insisted I had to do it because it would be the most delightful hour of my life. The adelie penguins liked to follow their ship, because they’d never seen boats or people before and wanted to make new friends. The adelie’s assumed that barking and howling was a friendly greeting, so they kept trying to make friends with the expeditions dogs. They were outraged every time someone stopped them from walking directly into the dogs, who really wanted to eat the penguins.

...Granted, his love of adelie penguins may come from the fact that Cherry-Garrard was one of the members of the very unfortunate winter expedition, who were sent on a journey across Antarctica in the dead of winter to find the emperor penguin breeding grounds and get their hands on some eggs in the early stages of development, which the author considered to be the titular worst journey in the world. And he continued to hold that stance after being drafted into WW1 and wounded badly enough that it took him years to recover. Also they’d been commissioned to get the emperor penguin eggs for scientists to study, based on a then popular theory that studying embryo’s in early stages of development would show how they’d evolved, so at the time getting those eggs was considered extremely important for better understanding the species. By the time they returned to England, the theory had been disproved and the eggs they nearly died for were considered worthless. So bearing all that in mind, I kinda understand why Apsley Cherry-Garrard has a bit of a love-hate relationship with emperor penguins, and is much more fond of the silly little adelie’s that hang out with the crew and aren’t responsible for him being made to trek across Antarctica in the dead of winter.

Oh also, penguins aside, apparently on the voyage out the only assigned positions on the Terra Nova was just having a watch schedule. Literally everything else was volunteer work; when something needed doing, someone would yell that it had to happen, and whoever was closest/capable would jump on it. Apparently this was really good for morale, because this meant the whole crew took turns doing the worst jobs, regardless of rank. You gotta respect a British ship in 1910 that had the officers voluntarily manning the bilge pumps, bailing out water in storms, and shovelling coal right with everyone else. Also somewhat unrelated but every description of the ship sounds like an absolute clusterfuck. Their petrol supply was somehow constantly being washed overboard and people had to jump into the goddamn ocean to get it back every time. The youngest members of the crew all bunked together, and everyone referred to their cabin as the nursery. Cherry-Garrard’s description of his morning routine on the ship included an offhanded mention of bringing breakfast up to the guy that sleeps under the chart table on the bridge. Half the crew kept their clothes dumped out on their beds at all times, because the ship was so heavily loaded with equipment and supplies they ran out of space to store their own clothing. They still made enough room to bring a self-playing piano.

There’s just so much going on here, and I love it.

[thoughtlessthoughtful]

Cultivation Analysis- Disco Elysium

I was not someone who considered themselves a “gamer” as a child. I asked for a Nintendo DS, because I wanted to play Nintendogs. We got a Wii for my sister's birthday, and together we loved to play Mario Galaxy (1 and 2). After getting the Nintendo DSi, I fell out of video games for a while, until I met a very special person. My husband and I met in our senior year of high school, and the first time we met he was wearing a Portal 2 t-shirt. He had grown up playing games, and has an extensive knowledge of their history, development, and mechanics. One day, I went over to his house and he was playing a new game he thought I would like based on The Walking Dead franchise. Telltale Game’s The Walking Dead, a game where your choices impact the story and characters. The game was released in “Episodes” and the last had just been released. We had been together for just over a month, and he was not planning on finishing the ending when I got there. However, I was curious after watching him finish the 4th episode. He did not want to stop either, so I watched the ending. That was the first time I was emotionally destroyed by a video game.

Fast forward ten years. My husband and I play games almost daily. I generally watch more than I play, (marrying my own personal Let’s Player has its perks). However, I enjoy playing more story driven games on my own. Usually at the recommendation of my husband. I play a few action games, usually with friends, but Role Playing Games (RPGs) are my game style of choice. RPGs vary in tone, style, and mechanics, but the heart of a good RPG is an interesting and compelling story with dynamic characters whose lives are impacted by my choices as the player. One of the best games I’ve played (and re-played) in recent years is Disco Elysium.

In this game, you play as Harry DuBois, a strug-out police detective in the seaside town of Ravachol. You start the game, not even knowing your own name, as different parts of your psyche comment on "your" choices and the environment. Playing video games is different from consuming other forms of media, in that it expects the media consumer, the player, to be actively involved in the process. It is not like a movie or T.V. Show that you can sit idly and watch. “With the development of increasingly complex musical scores and the advent of machinima, the boundaries between video games and other forms of media are slowly blurring…video games have contributed significantly to modern artistic culture.” (Media Studies 101, 2014, 10.4). Players have to invest in the process in order to continue the complex story and uncover the mysteries of the murder, the town, the people who live there, Harry’s past, and even mythical creatures. The nature of the game makes it so that you can re-play it and experience completely different moments based on different choices.

My favorite moment doesn’t happen until the very end of the game. In the town, there are rumors of a mythical creature, the Insulindian Phasmid. I don’t want to spoil the moment for people who have yet to play this wonderful game (seriously, play it if you can), but it is hands down, one of the most beautiful moments I have ever experienced from any form of media. I remember turning to my husband, who was watching me play for once, and seeing the wonder on his face as well. Even though it was his third time experiencing that moment (yes we really like this game). He even bought some art inspired by that moment for me for Christmas, from artist Luís Melo. I can see it from where I type this post. 

Disco Elysium has impacted me and many other players. The art, writing, acting, complex choices, music, and animation all come together in a truly beautiful experience. Games like this, make video games an art and go against every “games ruin your mind” naysayer on the planet. Revochol is not a real place, Harry, Kim and the Phasmid are not real beings, but the impact they have left on the players can not be understated. ZA/UM, the developer and publisher, seems to be in limbo, and I doubt a game of this caliber will be released again for a long time. I hope that more people are inspired to create games to make the players think and challenge the medium in new, creative ways. 

Thank you for reading, see you next thought.

References:

Media Studies 101: A Creative Commons Textbook. Media Text Hack Group, 2014.   open.lib.umn.edu,https://open.lib.umn.edu/mediaandculture/chapter/4-4-how-newspapers-control-the-publics-access-to-information-and-impact-american-pop-culture/.

[soulless-bex]

Hello! This may seem very out of the blue, but I was looking up posts about aroace rep in media and saw one that you had written so wanted to ask your opinion on something if you don't mind! (There's no pressure to answer this by any means.)

I'm in the very early days of planning a thriller/detective kind of graphic novel and I've got two main characters who are fleshing out at the moment. One of whom is an aroace guy! I'm yet to decide whether I want there to be any direct address to his identity but I do know that I want it to be evident from the start, and I'm gonna have him wear an aroace flag badge because he's very comfortable and proud of it. As for his character, he's quite grumpy and sarcastic and enjoys telling people where they can stick it. (There's more to him, don't worry, but that's an overview.)

The other character I have is his best friend. More characters are going to be introduced pretty early on and will become just as central but these are the two we begin with. The rest of the crew will have various romances mixed in here and there, including one with aroace guy's best friend.

Now here comes the bombshell. I'm planning on killing aroace guy. IS THIS A BAD DESCISION? IS IT TOO MEAN TO KILL HIM OFF? The thing is, I know somebody needs to die and from the start I've known it would work well with his character for him to die after some time in an escape with the rest of the group. But I'm worried that it's a cruel blow to the aspec community to give them a canonically aroace character only for him to die. I don't want to push the idea that aro and/or ace characters can't have happy endings because they won't necessarily have a Somebody to end up with. However, I do want to explore the intense grief that the rest of the characters experience because of this person's death, especially his best friend. I think it could be important to show the amount of love in and around his life despite him being aroace. He won't just be forgotten about - in fact I intend for his death to heavily contribute to his best friend's character arc after it happens and he'll be directly referenced a lot afterwards.

Still, I'm concerned if this is still a bad choice, and one that people might be upset about if they read it. Am I pulling a Netflix writer move by doing this? You know like when they always kill off the lesbians? If you have any opinions on this it would be amazing if you could let me know from an aroace person's point of view! Tysm x

honestly, as long as it is important to the plot and the continuation of the story then it should be fine. i dont have your draft or anything so i don’t know what you’re planning on doing for sure, but as long as it doesn’t read as you getting rid of the character/killing the character for fun then you should go with it

some people might have a different opinion, but i firmly believe that if the only representation a minority gets ends up being the good guy that lives happily ever after, then it defeats the whole purpose. those characters, even if they’re apart of a minority group, are still, most of the time anyway, human. they will make mistakes, they will be mean, they will walk down a dark path, and yeah, they will die

i think it only really becomes problematic if the characters that represent said minority are continuously killed for seemingly no reason. to add representation only to say your stories are diverse and then kill them off is when it becomes an issue

but if, as you said, it makes sense for that character to die and then helps further the character development of other characters, then you shouldn’t let their identity stop you from writing what you want

and honestly, i’d rather have dead representation than no representation at all

[tarysande]

Oh no, I've been thinking.

Okay, I can't stop thinking about something ending-related. I don't know this for certain, but based on previous statements and such, it feels like the writers were always aiming for a bittersweet ending. Like, no matter what else happened or how the story evolved, come hell (lol) or high water, that ending couldn't just be happy. For reasons. I guess.

Now, I don't mind a bittersweet ending ... if it makes sense for the ending to be bittersweet.

I critique stories for a living. I'm literally taking a break from the developmental edit of someone's novel to write this post. And the persistent thought that bugs me about the Rory setup is that it is so artificial. Time travel is a pain in the narrative ass. Time travel suddenly introduced in the sixth season of a show that has never touched on time travel? As an editor, I probably would've pointed out that time travel for the purpose of angst, especially time travel without rules that make sense ("I don't know anything about time travel! Except I do know you have to take the most painful path!"), seemingly introduced as a final ploy to make that bittersweet ending work ... well, to me, it breaks the narrative contract they established with the audience. Your audience is going to be confused. An editor's job is to alert the writer to any potential confusion so it can be fixed before the story goes to print, etc. Confused audiences get mad, annoyed, frustrated. They feel hurt. They put down the book and don't pick it up again. Usually, writers don't want that. But they're so close to their work that they need a completely outside perspective to say, "Hey, I'm not sure you realize this, but..."

I mean, I keep referring to Rory as "deus ex daughter" because in literary terms, she is a blatant deus ex machina. Rory is the god in the machine of the Bittersweet Ending.

Now, I loved a lot of S6. I did. My overall feeling about the season is not negative. But ... I can't stop thinking about why the things I didn't like REALLY didn't work for me.

I loved the emotional growth we saw in Lucifer and Chloe facilitated by the question of parenting and parental love. I did. And I would have loved to see a lot of those notes hit not with an angel kid out of nowhere ... but with the daughter already in the picture. Especially because it would have circumvented the icky idea that a child has to be one's flesh and blood to induce such feelings. I also understand that coronavirus and Scarlett's age and schedule made this difficult. But I just can't swallow that the only way to wrap up the story of this show--a show about found family, non-traditional family, friendship, connection, FREE WILL, love in all its many shapes and forms and colors ... was to introduce a brand new character via a device (time travel) that fails to make sense almost every time it's used, no matter the medium. (And then had only that brand new character be there when her mother died. Don't even get me started. Ugh.)

If time travel was always going to be on the table, couldn't we have found a more plausible way to use it with the characters we already knew, loved, and had spent four or five seasons with? A time-travelling older Trixie, say? If you're going to use the impossible device, just ... twist it another way to make it work.

Okay. Okay. So, leaving Trixie aside for now just like the show did, let's say we leave everything about the season the same, even Rory. Do you know what ending makes more narrative sense?

Future Rory sacrificing herself by NOT forcing Lucifer to make a cruel and impossible "choice" so the baby that might have been her grows up with a family that loves her. Chloe's already pregnant. That's not going to be undone. And this nonsense of a "closed time loop" falls apart if you side-eye it for even a few seconds. The Rory who came from the future never exists except in the memories of those she met when she came back from that future. Chloe and Lucifer lose that daughter even as they gain the new one whose existence is not a tool of unrelenting fate because wow this show has always been about free will what the heck happened there yikes. And a choice made under the duress Chloe and Lucifer were under, forced out of them, and forcing them to "choose" a life apart for *handwave* Reasons has nothing to do with free will. A "choice" made at gunpoint is not a real choice. Future Rory basically bullied them into ensuring she got to exist--something, quite frankly, neither her parents would have done.

Instead, how much more appropriately bittersweet is it if Chloe and Lucifer lose that child while gaining one who, because of that angry time-travelling version, will never suffer as she did.

Also as an editor: the groundwork for my version is already laid, by the way. It should have been Rory learning about the importance of free will over fate. The importance of personal sacrifice. The importance of not thinking your young self knows best ... because experience and therapy will help rid you of that self-centered world view. That's the contract the writers made with us with this show. And Chloe and Lucifer have already BEEN THERE AND DONE THAT. (See: the end of S4.)

Furthermore, this season finally HAD Chloe and Lucifer DEAL WITH the only thing that actually would have contributed to a narrative, characterization-based reason for Lucifer to disappear: His history of running and his putting Chloe on a pedestal. Once they really talked that out, his "disappearance" became a Rory-induced trauma of inexplicable fate that flies in the face of all the progress Lucifer made over six seasons. (I would rather have had more of that and less of mysterious disappearing oh no plot.)

And I'm sorry, the "Once you get to Hell you're going to work 24/7" excuse given for why Lucifer won't be around and why he can't make time for Chloe until she's DEAD(????!???) is ... it's lame. If AMENADIEL AS GOD can make time for his kid's birthday party, I refuse to believe Lucifer can't work out some Hell/Earth-work/life balance. Never mind that in the show about partnerships, the Bittersweet Ending just ... destroyed it. Chloe was planning on being God's consultant; she could have helped Lucifer solve Hell's Trauma Mysteries (it's what she did with Jimmy, setting up that yeah, Lucifer could do it alone like he accidentally did with Lee, but doing it with HIS TRUTHSEEKING PARTNER would be more effective). Just as Lucifer could have continued helping HER solve some of the problems within "that corrupt little organization" of hers.

tl;dr: I think the writers fixated so completely on their version of Bittersweet that they missed all the foreshadowing, groundwork, and clues that were right there, already built into the story, poised for a different kind of ending than the one they once imagined. That's why so many parts of it feel almost-but-not-quite right and why these aspects are so off-putting. That's why it's just not ... organic. It's something squeezed into a box it grew out of ages ago.

Ironically, certain elements of this season involved the writers insisting on the FATE they decided long ago instead of letting the story and the characters have the FREE WILL to choose a different, more fitting, more organic ending--one that had long-since evolved past that original flavor of Bittersweet.

[bigskydreaming]

Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative. 

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I might be back on my bullshit thinking about Louis [as if I ever stopped] and episode 2 again. Like... there are a lot of things that could’ve been handled better when it comes to ep2, but can we just appreciate his apology to Clementine during the archery scene? 

[note: this turned into a bit of a rant, and for that, I apologize]

It still baffles me that he gets dismissed as a shitbird by portions of the fandom to this day for being upset with Clem and AJ when he just found out his best friend gave away the twins, murdered Brody and tried to pin it on Clementine to cover his tracks... only to then be murdered by AJ after he already gave up, shot him in the back of the head right in front of everyone and left Louis heartbroken and traumatized. 

Like I understand that some of y’all think Clementine and AJ should never be held accountable for anything they do and they’re always right, even when they’re in the wrong because you’re the player projecting yourself onto them and everyone who is mean to you is a stupid head unless they’re mean in the right way.

Or you’re one of those violentine stans who feels like the only way to validate your ship is to create this narrative that Louis is a traitor and Clementine would never love him after he voted for them to leave as if the only way you know how to make Violet look good is to make Louis bad by comparison instead of like... y’know, being one of the decent stans who explain and gush about the positives of the ship itself and why they love it rather obsessing over the other ship. 

Either way, you’re really gonna look at that situation of Louis reacting to his best friend’s death after what just went down and be like “calm down, Louis, you’re being a jerk :/” like.... I’m sorry? 

Aren’t you the same people who complained about Luke not giving a shit about Nick’s death back in s2? how he didn’t have a reaction? In fact, aren’t you also the same people who vigorously defended Kenny for his reaction to Sarita’s death after he lashed out at Clementine? Remember? When he yelled at her and called her a stupid fucking kid who thinks she can just get anyone killed and it’s okay because she said sorry? but it’s fine because Kenny’s reacting in a realistic way that makes sense for his character and he later apologizes for it? 

but now here you are, getting a realistic reaction out of Louis that makes sense with his character and all of a sudden, you don’t like it? You want him to just be like “Oh no, Marlon.... anyway.” Really?

Louis is hurt, he’s pissed and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s so shaken by what the hell just happened, Marlon’s dead body is bleeding out on the ground, Ruby’s talking about getting fucking medicine as if that’s gonna do anything, Violet waving her cleaver around at them even though literally none of them were looking at AJ they were all looking at Clementine, Violet you are not helping anyone in this situation, you’re only making it worse and adding to the aggression... but no, Louis shouldn’t be a fucking mess right now. He should just shrug his shoulders and be like “Welp, this is fine.” 

Then there’s the damn funeral. Look, Clementine and AJ shouldn’t have been there. I know they had to be for story purposes, but it’s such a bad idea that it makes Violet, the one who wanted them there, look like an ass who has no regard for anyone other than herself, Clementine and AJ, and those who agree with her... which is only Tenn and I guess everyone else sucks and their feelings are invalid because no one else wanted them there since it’s not a good idea to have Marlon’s murderer attend his funeral and if you believe that isn’t going to piss people off or make them uncomfortable, then either you don’t care or you don’t know how to read a room. 

And by the way, Louis wasn’t the one who suggested voting them out. He wasn’t even there when MITCH said they should take a vote and everyone agreed to it. So why is it that Louis gets all this blame for how the vote turned out? Oh, Louis is such a traitor because he���s the reason they got kicked out.... except no? 

First of all, if you’re so mad at Louis then how come you’re not mad at Ruby? She voted them out, too. So did Omar. They contributed to kicking them out. How come no one else talks about how much they hate them after they said having the vote was a fair idea and then voted them out? Oh, and Willy, too. Willy voted them out. The only other person who gets heat for the vote is Mitch, and he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place... but no one else, huh? 

Also, how come only Violet gets praise for wanting Clementine and AJ to stay? Never see anyone talk about how amazing Aasim is after he was the third vote for them. He has legit reasons for wanting them around, too, but he didn’t want them at the funeral either so what, does that cancel out his vote for you? Where is the Aasim love? 

Then we got the dorms where Louis and Violet come to escort them away, and once again, I have to mention that both of them are wrong in this situation. They’re on the extreme opposites where Violet thinks they should stay because they didn’t do anything wrong, and Louis thinks they should leave because AJ’s dangerous. Both of these view points make sense with their characters.

However, I guess some conveniently ignore how conflicted Louis is about the whole thing and how he’s feeling about it because it doesn’t fit with the narrative they’re trying to push about his character. 

Again, he’s dealing with a lot of shit right now only to be constantly invalidated by Violet, who keeps telling him what a shithead he is for hurting about this, how he’s just burying his head in the sand again and all this other shit, and he eventually snaps at her and says AJ’s dangerous, which hurts AJ and it’s all over Louis’ face that he realizes he snapped and he feels bad about it. 

But Louis never got aggressive with them, he never laid a hand on them, and he was there to escort them out in the woods. And that argument of “he sent them out there to die therefore Clementine and AJ should hate him, Clem shouldn’t want any friendly/romantic relationship with him because he put AJ at risk and got him shot” is.... I dunno, ugh? It’s ugh. You act like Louis did this to intentionally get them hurt when that’s not true. 

Clementine and AJ have survived on their own for years, so it makes sense that Louis would try to justify this to himself like “they’ll make it out there, they’ll survive because they’ve done this before... this is for the best for everyone” and no, him telling them that this is probably like going home for them isn’t okay, but it makes sense for his character because he doesn’t actually know how bad it is out there. 

None of them know, they’ve all lived in walls their whole lives. It’s naïve of him, yes, but it makes sense and he didn’t do this with shitty intentions of wanting them to get hurt. He didn’t know that Lilly and Abel would be out there, he didn’t know AJ would get shot, he didn’t know any of it. He didn’t think that if they voted them out, this would happen. He was struggling with his feelings about them and saying goodbye to someone he was starting to feel a connection with. 

And he let them back in. Hell, he carried AJ into the school himself when they showed up wounded and you still wanna call him an asshole and a traitor? He could’ve said nope, get the hell out. We kicked you out, you’re not welcome here. 

He didn’t do that, he ran to them to see if they’re okay, he brought AJ to Ruby and stayed with him the entire time Clem was in the office with Violet.... AND he apologized to AJ, quietly begging for him to be okay... and when he’s faced with Clementine after what happened, he doesn’t know what to say to her. He can’t even look at her because he feels so ashamed of himself and feels all the blame for this. 

This is a moment that ties back to backstory. Louis’ emotions overpowered him, he made a decision and now AJ is shot and bleeding on the couch.... when he came to the school, they [the staff, I assume] said these kids were bad people, they told Louis that he was bad after what he did to his parents and he internalized that, and this whole this just reaffirms that idea “I am bad, I hurt people, this is my fault.” He blames himself for everything even though there’s no way he could’ve known. You can feel Louis’ genuine concern for AJ and how he’s doing, but at the same time, he’s trying to distance himself from Clementine… and well, sorta failing since he brings her clothes and they have the conversation in the dorms. 

Then the archery scene.... y’know, the scene I was gonna make a simple little post about that somehow turned into this. 

Once again we have Louis and Violet arguing because that’s what they do now, and Violet continues to tell him to get over himself without listening to anything he says, and he goes to practice archery so that y’know... when the raiders come he can use a weapon to help defend them since he’s not very good with it and needs practice.

Clem goes to check on him, and Louis apologizes for voting them out, explains that when AJ shot Marlon, he blamed Clementine when that wasn’t the right thing to do. He had a lot going on emotionally on top of what was happening around him, but after having two weeks to work through things alone, even though he’ll never be happy Marlon died, he can understand why AJ thought it was the right thing to do... and if he could take everything back, he would. He knew that the moment they came back, and he still does. 

I just.... how often does Clementine ever get an actual apology from anyone who has hurt her? A real apology from someone who means it and then doesn’t just turn around and repeat the same hurtful actions? Like... it baffles me that people will look at this genuine apology and tell him to fuck off, but will accept and continue to adore someone like Kenny who will apologize for hurting Clem, only to never try to be better and ends up hurting her even more next time. 

Or they’ll accept and justify Violet’s last minute apology for punching Clementine in the face on the boat and putting everyone [including AJ, rememeber?] at risk of either dying or being made into brainwashed soldiers by the delta. 

They both have reasons for their behaviors and you’ll work your ass off to justify them, and I’m not saying your points are wrong or invalid, but you seriously won’t even try to extend that same thing to Louis? Why? 

Well, jokes on you because I too will work my ass of to talk about Louis and what he’s going through and that’s how posts like this get made. I know not everyone is going to feel that connection to him that I have, and you’re allowed to not like him as a character, but realize that I’m also allowed to give my perspective on his character and why I disagree with points posed by those who don’t like him. 

The archery scene is one of my favorites. It’s Louis and Clementine proving that they’re able to open up to one another and say they’re sorry, to forgive the other without being petty or holding it over the other to throw back at them the next time they argue. It proves that Louis wants to put in the effort to repair their relationship and atone for the mistakes he made, to step up and not be “bad” anymore. 

I mean, Louis says it best himself. Everyone heard the jokes and the piano, after that, they stop listening... a lot of people just boil him down to a funny man who never takes anything seriously and the only thing he could ever bring to Clementine’s life is a good laugh, but those who stuck with him and put an effort into building his and Clementine’s relationship know better than that. They know how much this apology in ep2 means even with the downer that the timeline of events rushes everything a bit. 

The fact that Louis doesn’t have this big ego that prevents him from apologizes, that he can forgive AJ for what he did and still build a strong relationship with both him and Clementine, that if you earn his trust he will follow you to hell and back, that he isn’t afraid to call Clementine out on her bullshit and doesn’t have a come apart when she does the same to him, that with her and AJ by his side he finally doesn’t feel alone anymore.... it’s all just so fucking good. 

I dunno, maybe you can understand why I get so ugh whenever I still see these same arguments about him being made with this double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters.

[silentfcknhill]

FAVORITE SHOWS IN POSTERS

Well, we’re back for another installment of this tagged meme, this time for TV shows! I also stole this from/was indirectly tagged by @jcmorrigan. My taste in shows also differs a bit from my taste in movies, as I tend to like a lot of comedy shows with not as many horror ones. I’m not into shows as much as movies overall, but there are some that I am very passionate about so I picked twenty again. So, here we go for part 2, in order:

1. Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend Of Korra (2005-2014)

I'm including these as one show since they take place in the same universe and tell a continuation of the same overall plot. Altogether this is probably the best piece of media to ever exist, including movies. It has so many great characters and villains especially and some of the most epic sequences, charming humor and heartwarming moments ever. I've never met a person who didn't like these shows, even people who normally don't like cartoons. My dad, who is biased against animation? He loved it. My mother? She loved it, watched it with her multiple times. My grandmother? Loved it. My ex-boyfriend? Loved it. My best friend? Loved it. I dare anyone not to, and I'm so glad it's making a resurgence since it's on Netflix for a new generation to enjoy.

2. Black Butler (2008-2014)

I never was big into anime growing up and only really started watching anime when I was like 16 and above, but this is one of the exceptions because holy shit is it ever dark and epic. I'm not sure I'd really recommend it for kids, it's more of a teens and young adults kind of anime and that's probably why it's so good, because it isn't afraid to explore dark and mature topics and do it with all of the intensity and gravitas required to do said topics justice. It has lots of great characters, and the story of demons who make deals with children who have a dark side is fun to watch play out.

3. Seinfeld (1989-1998)

My dad was a huge fan of this show so I watched it growing up since I was a toddler and it became a classic for me. I've watched thw hole show through at least 8 times, and I'll never stop because it never gets old or boring. It's also my only comfort show when I'm having a panic attack because of one time a few years ago when I was having a drug-induced psychosis episode and watching it calmed me down, so now it's like the opposite of a trigger and whenever I'm having an episode or something I watch it to bring me back to reality. For that reason it's more than a show to me, it's a medical treatment and I'm forever grateful to it.

4. The Good Place (2016-2020)

The big four shows made my Michael Schur all made it on this post (The Good Place, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Office and Parks And Recreation), either in the main list of the honorable mentions, but this is my personal favorite of the four. It's so funny, quirky, relatable and basically tailor-made to suit my interests. Not only is it an entertaining and wholesome show, but I think watching it helped me come to terms with a lot of things like mortality, ethics, philosophy, religion and my relationships with other people. It gets  alot of different viewpoints across and if you're a very analytical and philosophical person like me you'll probably enjoy seeing it all play out. Not to mention, every single character is 'favorite character' material. It's rare you find a show with no filler characters in the main cast, but I genuinely can't choose who is best.

5. Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-?)

Another of Michael Schur's shows, this one is just barely under The Good Place and to be honest it was tough to pick my favorite between the two because they're both equally funny. I know it's kind of controversial right now because of the whole law enforcement thing, but I actually think they do a good job of handling social issues in the show and remaining respectful of real-life systemic problems. As for the characters, this is another one of those shows where every single character is gold and I think that tends to be a trend among Schur's shows in general. He produces damn good comedy, and damn good characters. I can't wait to see what they bring next.

6. Rick And Morty (2013-?)

This is unfortunately one of those cases of 'great show, horrible fandom' and for that reason I don't get involved in the fandom even though I love the show. It's a shame because it really is a great show, so funny and, again, such good characters. I think it's a lot more accessible than the fandom likes to claim, so I'm hoping more people will give it a chance and not get put off by the intellectual elitism of the fandom because it does have some of the most entertaining and batshit crazy episodes ever, poking fun of some of the staples of science fiction in media while also poking fun of itself the whole time. Unlike the fandom, the show doesn't take itself seriously and that's enjoyable nowadays.

7. Orange Is The New Black (2013-2019)

While this show is a comedy, it is also a lot of other things and it's probably made me ugly-cry just as many times as it's made me laugh. Well, maybe not as often, but those few scenes (if you've watched the show then you know the ones I'm talking about) made me hysterically sob hard enough to be worth like fifty minor sads. But I didn't even mind because the show is just that good, and it makes you /feel/ something in a real way. Probably because of just how real it gets in terms of telling stories that happen all the time in the real world, sometimes with inevitably tragic endings. But these things do happen every day, and it's important to shine a light on that. It's not just representation for LGBTQ+ but also for POC, the neurodiverse, the poor, and many more. Give it a watch to broaden your perspective!

8. Big Mouth (2017-?)

This is probably the grossest show I've ever seen but by god is it ever funny. Maybe it's because I have an immature sense of humor or something, but I love this show. It definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea and I don't recommend you watch this show with anyone else around because it will get awkward. I think part of its appeal to me is that everyone I talk to who likes it considers it so relatable to their lives growing up but for someone like me who grew up on the autism and asexual spectrum and who was physically an early-bloomer by years, nothing about this show is relatable to me in any way so it makes it all the more crazy and bizarre watching how the people around me must have experienced things. Did y'all really have these experiences with puberty in middle school???

9. Dexter (2006-2013)

I recently heard that this show is coming back for a reboot soon and I'm so excited because this is my absolute favorite drama/thriller show, as evidenced by the fact that it's the highest one on the list so far that isn't a comedy. I love the idea of having a protagonist who is sort of a villain (or at least morally dubious), and the idea of a serial killer who only kills bad people is particularly satisfying for some reason. Maybe because he's the vigilante we all deserve and want in this unjust and evil world of modern times? Idk but the very premise of this show set it up for big things and aside from the ending I think it delivered consistently.

10. Once Upon A Time (2011-2018)

This show took us on some journeys, and you can't deny that. Sure, maybe it didn't always finish what it started and didn't always end in the most satisfying way, but part of its charm is that you didn't care because the experience was just so much fun. They took characters and stories that have been told to death and somehow managed to put a unique and unexpected twist on them, and that alone is admirable. Good twists, good villains, and pretty much every cliffhanger known to man will keep you hooked on binge-watching every episode.

11. RuPaul's Drag Race (2009-?)

A bit different than the other entries on my list in that it's not fiction but a reality competition show, but I couldn't leave Drag Race out because it's just so fucking iconic and perfect. Even when you disagree with the judges or can't stand a certain contestant you'll still be having a good time. It's got the personalities you love to love, the ones you love to hate, and the comedy that's completely meme-able. I mean just how much has this show contributed to pop culture and the internet? More than most of us, henny. I've watched every single season, even the international ones and all of the spinoffs. This show will probably be on for another thirty years when Ru is throwing shade from a hospital bed and I'll still be watching.

12. House (2004-2012)

Some people hate on this show, and I don't get it. I love House. Yes, he's an ass. That's the point. He's supposed to be unlikeable, and that's why I like him. Maybe because I always love the rude, sarcastic, misanthropic jerkass-genius characters for some reason. And I also love procedural shows, so it's a win-win. I also work in the healthcare field so it appeals to me for that reason too, because obviously the whole premise is outlandish which is what makes it funny. Of course it's not realistic for a hospital, so just enjoy the absurdity and don't get too hung up on the details of medical accuracy and professional ethics and you'll be fine.

13. The Office (2005-2013)

The third of Michael Schur's show and the last one that made the main list (sorry Parks And Rec, I love you too but there was just so many good shows to choose from and I saw you last so the nostalgia isn't as strong!) I don't think I need to hype this show up any, it's already a classic and you can't even turn around online without getting hit in the face by a dozen Office memes. You'll have to pry this show and it's relatable characters (especially Michael Scott) from my cold, dead hands.

14. All Hail King Julien/The Penguins Of Madagascar (2008-2017)

Like Avatar/Korra, I also consider this as one show for the sake of this list because it also takes place in the same universe (Madagascar, specifically) and I just couldn't choose one over the other because they're both so perfect. They're funny and I love all the characters (it cut out the weaker links of the Madagascar film series and just focuses on expanding the standout side-characters like King Julien and the penguins). It also delved into some lore, particularly the first show, and even though I didn't also agree with the directions it took (you may have seen me get salty about the ending because I cared too much), I can't deny how much I love it.

15. Bones (2005-2017)

One of the other scarce non-comedy shows on this list, it still has it's funny moments. It's also, like House, another procedural show that involves some medical stuff, but this time on a more scientific and forensic level which is even more interesting. It's nice to see a lead female with Asperger's, too. There's a lot of cop/law enforcement shows where they try to solve crimes, but this one is the best, and I'm saying that as a fan of CSI as well. Don't fight me on this, I'm right. Oh yes, it's corny, it's campy, it's cheesy, but I love every minute of it. Don't watch if you have a weak stomach though.

16. The Simpsons (1989-?)

We all grew up with this show, don't lie. It's been around longer than most people on tumblr have even been alive. Should it have ended seasons ago? Hell yes. But that doesn't take away what the first like 20 or so seasons gave us (there's a lot of argument about when the show jumped the shark, for me it wasn't until much later than the popular consensus). The characters are amazing, but the secret to the show's longevity is that they always return to status quo and there's comfort and nostalgia in that. Bart will still be in 4th grade when you're out there pushing 90. This show is persistent. This show is eternal. This show will outlive us all.

17. Ash Vs. Evil Dead (2015-2018)

Sorely underrated. This show is hilarious, gruesome and campy as hell and I love it. I don't think you necessarily have to watch the Evil Dead movies beforehand in order to get the plot of the show, although it would probably help. In my opinion this show ended way too soon and I'm hoping someday we'll get a comeback because Ash is the reluctant, self-absorbed hero we all need and it's 2020 so at this point there really might actually be a demon-zombie apocalypse and who's gonna save us then if not for the impulsive womanizer with a chainsaw for a hand?

18. Malcolm In The Middle (2000-2006)

Another show I grew up with, I don't think it gets as much credit as it deserves. It has some damn funny episodes and great characters, and it did a lot of the popular sitcom tropes before they were 'cool'. Some other great sitcoms, The Middle in particular, took a lot of influence from this show and it helped pave the way for the future of sitcoms at a time when they were about to make a comeback. If you want a good show about the real experiences of growing up, this is a much more accurate representation of the highs and lows of being an awkward tween from a dysfunctional home.

19. A Series Of Unfortunate Events (2017-2019)

Unlike most people I actually liked the movie version from the early 2000's, and I read the books growing up so I was excited when I saw there was a live action television adaptation of it on Netflix because I felt like they cancelled the movie franchise too soon. I was interested to see how new actors would handle the roles, and I was not disappointed. I wouldn't say I liked either portrayal of the characters better or worse, they both added their own twist to it and this show is a great and loyal adaptation to the books, probably because the author was so heavily involved. He knew just when to stick to the books and when to improve upon what he had done with the benefit of hindsight. This show is basically the books, but remastered.

20. Winx Club (2004-?)

Sort of an odd one out on this list, but I really love this show even as an adult and it may surprise you to learn it is still going on and the most recent season came out last year. They take big breaks sometimes in between seasons, but it's still going strong and in multiple countries. The only thing I don't like about watching this show is all the different and inconsistent dubs since the original show is Italian and each dub only goes for a couple seasons so by the time you get used to one set of voices/names for the characters oyu have to abruptly switch to another, but it's still worth it for the beautiful animation and cool characters (especially the villains!)

Honorable Mentions: 

13 Reasons Why, America's Next Top Model, American Horror Story, Arrested Development, Bates Motel, Battlestar Galactica, Black Mirror, Care Bears, Chernobyl, Courage The Cowardly Dog, Criminal, CSI, Duck Dodgers, Goosebumps, Kenny Vs. Spenny, Kim Possible, Kingdom Hospital, Lazytown, Lost, Making A Murderer, Mayday, Mindhunter, Modern Family, Monster High, Obsession: Dark Desires, Parks And Recreation, Prison Break, Project Runway, Queer As Folk, Queer Eye, Salem, Schitt's Creek, SCTV, Spongebob Squarepants, The Emperor's New School, The Good Doctor, The Haunting Of Hill House/Bly Manor, The Middle, The Pretender, The Walking Dead, The X-Files, Through The Wormhole, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Unsolved Mysteries, Yugioh

Tagging: @bullet-farmer​ and anyone else who wants to!

[ginnyq]

The Book of Boba Fett Episode 3

Welp. That didn’t take long, did it?

Episode 2 really got my hopes up for Star Wars to do right by the Tuskens, the clones, fans of color, indigenous fans, and Temuera Morrison himself, by showcasing the Tuskens as a people and a culture and individuals to be respected.

And then turned around and in the next episode threw that all in the trash.

I say all this as a white person, but one who follows many fans of color who were over the moon about episode 2. Posts for days, almost a whole week, about how much last week’s episode meant to them as indigenous or AAPI fans. And today, the second day after the new episode? It’s crickets about TBOBF, following a small burst of short, heartbroken posts.

And that breaks my heart. And makes me angry. Enraged, in that impotent, helpless way that that makes it hurt even more. So I’d like to make a longer post, because I think it’s important for there to be an in-depth explanation (such as I can give, from my admittedly limited perspective) explaining why episode 3 was so upsetting.

I’d love to talk about the things that were interesting/cool about this episode (the rancor, the half-naked fight with Krrsantan, the clearly skeezy moisture farmer guy), but honestly? I felt sick the moment I saw the black smoke and didn’t stop through the end of the episode. In fact, it’s pretty much killed my excitement for the next episode, and I’ve been looking forward to this show for a literal year.

Because this isn’t just about not liking the direction the story went, i.e. much-loved characters dying. It’s not even completely about the tired, disgusting trope killing off of an indigenous group, although that is most definitely a large part of it, especially after the deep (but still not deep enough) dive into the tribe we got in episode 2.

It’s about the direction that the real-life, human writers took, and the choice to not just use a tired, offensive, hurtful trope, but to not even use it well. Because the slaughter of the Tusken tribe happened almost completely out of the blue (Boba left for what, a day??), and off-screen, and quickly. We see a bunch of dead bodies, but none belonging to the attackers -- you’re telling me that zero bad guys were killed by the Tusken warriors? We don’t even see all the Tusken characters we care about (the badass warrior? the Tusken kid??). Boba is sad for all of what, two minutes, tops? And then bam, moving on!

What kind of offensive, bullshit, lazy-ass writing is this? Because the shift, not only in the narrative but in the tone, was so drastic I felt like I’d missed an episode, or at least a chunk of one. (But hey, thank goodness we spent so much time with that lame, slow-ass chase scene with the brightly colored SW Vespas.)

And I still feel sick, and discouraged, and disappointed, and uninterested, and ANGRY. On behalf of all the people I know and follow who felt episode 2 was a gamechanger in terms of representation, not to mention a sign of improvement, of good and even better things to come.

It’s possible, I suppose, that we haven’t seen the whole story yet. That the flashbacks are incomplete, or Boba’s knowledge is, and that many Tuskens did survive and there will be a victorious return, etc. But I’m not holding out hope, tbh.

And it’s such a slap in the face to all the fans and actors of color, and especially Temuera Morrison and the people who contributed to such good representation in episode 2. Because it could have been better -- we saw it last week. And a choice was made to actively NOT continue such good representation. That’s what hurts most of all, I think.

I’ll watch the rest of the series, but mostly to see if the aftermath/follow-up makes things at all better. My previous excitement is pretty much gone (and I was pumped, people, you have no idea). Honestly, I’m having a hard time getting attached to any new characters, no matter how much screentime they get, since the Tuskens got most of an episode and they got wiped out. I don’t have the emotional or mental energy to invest in anyone else.

And, as a white person, what I’m feeling is a minuscule fraction of the anger, disappointment, and betrayal that indigenous fans and other fans of color are feeling after this episode. I’m angry and heartbroken for them most of all.

[need-a-fugue]

Trustworthy (Chapter One)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating... and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this. 

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slowburn)

Warnings: Character death, many naughty words, and soooo much angst

A/N: It would seem that my newfound Pedro Pascal obsession isn’t going to let up any time soon, so I decided to just dive headfirst into some Frankie-heavy Triple Frontier fic. It doesn’t help that @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo​ planted a seed (quite a while ago) by asking for a story where reader breaks down on that fateful mission only to be comforted by our favorite Fish. I um... may have taken that a little far and now there’s this whole multi-chapter thing happening...

Here’s the thing… you’ve been in shit before. You’ve been shot at, even took a bullet yourself not too long ago. You’ve seen people die – some bad, some good, some deserving, some not. You held your own partner in your arms, desperately trying to stanch the flow of blood from his shorn neck before finally letting him go after he expelled one final, wet breath. You’ve killed people – a sicario outside of Bogota, two – possibly three – gang members in a shootout in Albuquerque, some dumb kid who’d been given a little bit of cash to stand guard outside a lab in Juarez.

You’ve seen tragedy, felt it, lived it, dreamed about it on an endless loop, even in your waking hours. You’ve caused it – or so you’d been told by the weeping mother of the boy in Mexico. You’ve denied it, denied that what had happened was actually tragic at all. Denied it to survive.

But you can’t deny what you’re in right now, the tragedy of having a plan go to shit in too many ways to count. The tragedy of nearly succumbing to your absolute worst fear in the world and going down in a sputtering damn helicopter. The tragedy of more lives being taken, even those of fucking Lorea and his men causing a reluctant burn at the back of your throat. Because you can’t stop seeing his children arriving home to find their worst nightmare laid out in blood and smoke, flames licking round all they’ve ever known and loved.

Children. Tom has children too. Had. Tom, who’s now being carried down the side of a mountain in a makeshift body bag, haphazardly descending with his men by his side… just ahead of you, just in your line of sight. Still leading the way, even in death.

Maybe that’s why this feels so different. This particular tragedy. Because you’re still in it. You can’t walk away and deny, shower the telling grime from your skin, bury the reality of death and failure and fear beneath a six pack of beer and a shitty TV dinner alone in your dark apartment.

And, oh, your apartment… or any apartment really, as you’re not exactly likely to return to your post in Colombia after all this. To go anywhere right now with heat and running water… and a bed. Your mind reels just thinking about it.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t slept in days… many days. Haven’t eaten much either, each and every MRE and stale protein bar sitting heavy in your throat, choking, suffocating, blocking your breaths and words alike.

“You gotta eat,” Frankie had said to you just this morning, whispered in your ear as you carefully picked your way over and around the sharp, loose rocks in your path. “We gotta keep moving,” he muttered, the deep hum of his voice sounding less like the balm you’d come to know and more like just another resonance caught up in the icy, bitter wind. He had pressed a bar to your palm, his hand warm despite the surrounding cold, and a forced lightness filled his tone as he declared, “Need your strength or we won’t make it to the coast.”

You hadn’t even looked up to meet his gaze, instead continuing forward, glare directed down at the treacherous ground beneath your feet. “I don't really see that happening anyway,” you said as you shoved the bar deep into your pocket.

His stride halted then, leaving him standing tall and motionless as you swept idly past. But his pause was enough to make you falter, to make you turn and glance back up at him. You hadn’t even realized what you said – not really, not fully – until you took in the look on his face. That was enough – the sadness, the grief, the guilt that clouded his eyes and pinched his lips – to make you retrieve the bar from your pocket and choke down the whole damn thing in two monstrous bites.

Maybe it’s that. That look Frankie had given you just as the sun began to rise. The same look that sits on the faces of the other men even now, hangs heavily on them as they soldier on, carrying not only the load of money, but the body of their friend.

Maybe it’s being here with them as they move with purpose and the kind of fluidity that comes from too many years of practice. Practice at navigating dangerous situations. Practice at steering away from the fear and pain, sorrow and guilt that stare them right in the face, all to ensure they might survive the day.

Maybe it’s watching them move through that horrid fog that – you know – anyone else would so easily get lost in. All while reluctantly admitting, if only to yourself, that it’s the same fog you’ve been unable to effectively cut through for days.

Maybe that’s what has you feeling like you’re walking a tightrope balanced precariously between an understandable sort of disappointment and dread… and a overwhelming, blinding despair. Maybe this feels different because it isn’t just yourself you’d need escape to gain distance from this tragedy. It’s all of them as well. And you can’t very well escape the very men you need to help you through.

They climb the mountainside, traversing rocks and heaps of remaining snow that never fail to send you slipping and careening. They catch you as you slide, helping you along as they hoist bag after bag – your own contribution of carrying just your pack and one duffel seeming paltry in comparison – up and then down the stony inclines. They hand you off with care, always keeping you close, making sure that if one of them moves ahead, another is still left by your side. They carry you almost as much as they carry the money. As much as they carry Tom.

Tom. You’d only known him a handful of days… weeks? How long ago was it that you followed Santiago back to the States to meet his reinforcements? At this point, you no longer have a clue when this whole fucking mess began. A lifetime ago at least. It seems as though you’ve known these men for an entire lifetime on top of that.

Tom. Well, he’s arguably the one you got to know least. And not just because he’s been dead for… however long it’s been now. No. He was just… quiet. Reserved. Distrustful, truth be told. But, hell, you could hardly blame him for that. After all, he was considered the leader of these men. The one tasked – above all others – with getting them in and out safely. The one who would wear the most blood on his hands should any of them fall.

And from the loyalty the others showed – and the stories they shared in both forced low tones and laughter-pocked croons – you could tell that he was a good leader. A trusted leader. A loved leader. And nothing he did on this mission was ever going to change that in the eyes of anyone here.

No, you hadn’t gotten to know him well. But damn if it didn’t still hurt to see him go. To peer over Ben’s shoulder – bent and broken and wracked with sobs – and into Tom’s empty, lifeless eyes all those days ago. So damn many days ago. To watch the brothers fight over the top of his body, sidestepping his corpse to throttle each other and throw blame to lessen the grief. To sit with Benny for the hour or so after – after helping him wrap up his friend with care – as his uncharacteristic silence slinked about you both in a smothering cloud of despair.

Ben, who had been the most jovial and talkative and… bright of all. He had quite literally welcomed you into the fold with open arms, a bit drunk and a bit concussed from a fight he insisted he won just hours before meeting you. He refused your handshake when Garcia introduced you, leaning in to envelope you in a tight hug instead, and then demanding to buy you a drink, despite the fact that you’d been nursing one while waiting for them to arrive. “Pretty lady like you shouldn’t ever have to shell out her own money for a drink,” he’d said with a grin and a wink.

You might’ve rolled your eyes, might’ve told him, pass amid a chiding glare. But before you could say a word, his brother smacked him upside the head, giving a disappointed eyeroll that would’ve outdone yours tenfold, and held out a hand to shake, a deep-tenor, “Don’t mind him, and nice to meet you,” putting you immediately at ease and making it utterly clear who the Miller brothers were. Will was the politic adult, professional and well-mannered. And Benny was simply a ball full of harmless fun.

Until now, that is. Now – you can see even as his slumped body fades away into the tree line below – Ben has become little more than sorrow and sinew.

A crunching tumble of pebbles sounds suddenly in your periphery, tearing you from your spiraling thoughts. You look up to see Santiago looming to your right, effectively blocking the sliver of sunlight that remains peeking through the dusk-hued sky. “You okay, bonita?” he asks, the tone of his voice and wrinkle to his brow as he looks down at you serving to snap you back to the here and now. Here. Now. Shivering in the cold as the four of you settle in on the side of some damn mountain, having just bid farewell to yet another member of your party.

Your gaze falls from his face almost as quickly as it had jerked up to meet it just a breath of a moment ago. You shake your head and let out a sigh. “I should’ve gone with him,” you utter simply. “I thought you’d been joking about how bad his Spanish was, but…”

He snorts out a laugh, and the corner of your mouth raises in a slight, crooked smile. “Yeah, well,” he starts, dropping down to take a seat on the hard earth beside you. “With how well you’ve been hiking through these hills, he’d probably have ended up carrying you like a backpack.” He gives you a shit-eating grin, teasing brow raised high. “We’re hoping to get out of here sometime this decade. Don’t need your ass slowing us down any more.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, the taunting cadence just barely cutting through the deep rumble of his laugh.

His hand falls to your knee, palm sliding side to side in a comforting stroke before he tightens his fingers over your patella and gives you a bit of a shake. “I’m only kidding,” he states, as though you didn’t already know. “You’ve been doing great. Really.”

You issue out a quick snort, a thick, incredulous breath kicking a puff of steam up into the frigid air.

“I mean it,” he tells you, turning a serious glance your way. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

“It’s not what any of us signed up for,” you interrupt pointedly.

“Yeah. But… DEA doesn’t exactly train people the same as us,” he intones, giving a nod towards the other men. “I know you’ve never been… exposed to this kind of shit.”

You wrinkle your nose and squint as you turn to look up at the mountain you’d just somehow managed to traverse. “Yeah. This has been some shit.”

He lets out another small laugh – short and fleeting – before pulling his hand from your knee and settling into the silence surrounding you. Ahead, Frankie and Will build up a rock barrier around Tom’s body, a protective cocoon for the night lest any animals come by. You’d all noticed – especially today as the sun came out in the afternoon and beat heavily down on your backs – that he’d begun to rot. To smell. And as much as everyone wanted to still hold him close, no one really wanted his steadily decaying body stinking at their sides as they attempted to sleep tonight.

Once they’re done with their makeshift mausoleum, the two men move across the way and begin digging through their packs for food. “Frankie mentioned that you hadn’t been eating,” Santi mutters from your right as both of your eyes remain trained on the men working before you.

You shrug. “I’ve eaten as much as anyone else.”

A tiny chuckle ripples through him, drawing a confused glare from you. And his smile only widens when he sees the uncertainty painted across your face. “He likes you, bonita,” he singsongs, giving your shoulder a little shove. Then, grin swiftly fading away to nothing, he rather distractedly declares, “He’s worried about you.”

Your brow furrows a bit, stare honing in on the broad-shouldered man now falling into shadow. The man you’d only just begun to know and yet somehow felt eerily connected to. Another sigh escapes your lips, shoulders slumping as you avert your eyes, looking instead to the dark tree line far below. “I’m worried about all of us.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a solemn nod. “Yeah. Me too.”

It hits you then… as you feel Santi slouch heavily beside you, a heady silence permeating the miniscule space between you. And as you turn back in time to see Will grimace and clutch his side, giving into the pain of a days-old gunshot wound for just a breath of a moment, all that he’ll allow himself to take. And as you watch Frankie remove his hat and wipe the sweat from his brow – despite the temperature already plummeting around you thanks to the nearly set sun – all while he stares solemnly over at the rotting, rock-covered corpse of one of his oldest friends.

You know why this feels different from any other tragedy you’d suffered in the past, any other bad op or mission gone wrong you’d ever endured. It feels different because this… this is all your fault.

[it-fits-i-ships]

Combing through every single episode of Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous for Yasammy moments to write meta analysis about part 2 (parts 1, 3, and 4)

After Yaz breaks her ankle we have this moment of Sammy expressing her gratitude and admiration, Sammy wants to let Yaz know she sees how strong, brave, and deeply caring Yaz is but, as Brooklyn points out, Yaz isn’t in a place to hear her and needs time and space to process her feelings about Sammy’s secret double life as a spy, she goes into self-defense mode and pushes Sammy away again Just as a side note, I find it really interesting how Brooklyn reaches out to Sammy to give her advice about Yaz, Brooklyn is the one who caught Sammy spying and it’s Brooklyn’s phone that Sammy stole and accidentally broke so I think it’s very cool of Brooklyn to step in because she can see that Sammy is hurting over her fallout with Yaz and is in desperate need of a supportive friend Sammy definitely backs off trying to talk to Yaz but continues to show her care and concern in little ways like asking the group if there is another way to get to the dock besides going on foot so Yaz doesn’t hurt herself more, on the monorail when Ben gets carried off by Pteranodons and they assume that he’s dead it hits all of them really hard, Sammy starts to panic and Yaz forgets for a moment that she’s supposed to be mad and instinctively comforts her before remembering all of their circumstances, Sammy can’t help herself when she sees Yaz fall as they’re running for the dock after the group has to abandon the monorail and rushes over to check on her, Yaz is clearly still angry and refuses Sammy’s help, but by the time they actually reach the dock we can see that Yaz has realized she really does need Sammy’s help and support (both physically and for emotionally) and that there are worse things that could happen than Sammy telling some lies for her family’s sake, at this point we can see that Yaz has decided to work on forgiving Sammy and trusting her again because she initiates contact with her by casually placing her elbow on Sammy’s shoulder at the dock This trend of re-establishing their bond continues as the show enters season 2, in which the group is still stuck on the island and has to find the emergency beacon, we can see Yaz and Sammy huddling together for comfort and to keep each other safe when they have to hide behind a fallen tree from some dinosaurs, we also see Yaz lean on Sammy and give a relieved sigh once Darius gives the all-clear and she stays there for a while, when Yaz accidentally brings up Ben we can see that she’s still processing how much his apparent death has affected her and the rest of the group, Yaz is now clinging to Sammy not because she is afraid Sammy will stop liking her or talking to her like she was in season 1 but because she needs the positivity, support, and encouragement that Sammy brings to her life in order to help her through all of the emotional turmoil that being on the island is putting her through Also, Sammy helping Yaz up, helping her walk, and otherwise supporting her in any way she can is just so sweet, I know Sammy is a very positive and helpful person and she does what she can for everyone in the group but she has always gone above and beyond when it comes to Yaz, she even convinces Yaz to stay at camp and rest while she, Brooklyn, and Darius go look for supplies (with such a gentle tone and soft expression that Yaz has no choice but to embrace the love and care that Sammy is putting out there), Yaz clearly wants Sammy to stay with her but I think Sammy realizes that it’s not good for Yaz to only depend on her so she gives Yaz a warm smile before she goes but she still leaves with the others so Yaz can grow and Sammy can contribute to the whole group, this sets up the beginnings of a much healthier dynamic between Yaz and Sammy in which they can have their own lives and friendships outside of each other Yaz has clearly forgiven Sammy at this point as we don’t see any kind of bitterness in their interactions at all and after the group makes their tree fort and they have some time to rest and relax away from the pressures of constantly running from dinosaurs I think Yaz really starts to

process her deeper feelings for Sammy, she wants to spend more time with Sammy and get even closer, we can see how eager she is to join Brooklyn and Sammy on their venture out into the jungle to locate the weird frozen flower patch that Brooklyn stumbled upon a while back, Yaz definitely strikes me as the type of person who has never been in love before so with everything else going on (and with her mind full of much stronger fears of losing the others in the group, especially Sammy, which I will talk about more later in this post series) her feelings are bound to manifest strongly We can see that Yaz is now actively playing that question game with Sammy, getting to know her better, and exchanging witty banter back and forth, obviously Yaz cares about all of the people in the group on some level or she wouldn’t have been so upset when they thought Ben died but notice how she is much more interested in talking to and learning about Sammy than she is in talking to and learning about Brooklyn, however she does try her best to loop Brooklyn into the conversation once Sammy cues her to Can we just take a second to appreciate the silent conversations that Yaz and Sammy have? I’m a sucker for some good non-verbal communication because it means that the characters are very close and feel connected with each other, there’s also the fact that since Yaz wants to be around her again Sammy spends so much time making physical contact with her, touch is clearly one of Sammy’s main love languages Yaz goes to help Sammy when the gun case falls on her only to be stopped by Tiff (who tries to prevent Yaz from running away to get help) and Sammy tackles Tiff to the ground to get her to let go of Yaz, honestly I know that Sammy realizes that Yaz getting free is their best chance of getting the help they need but I think it’s really telling that she went so hard, Yaz is clearly her favorite person on the island and Sammy isn’t about to let Tiff hurt her, I also find it really telling that when Yaz sees Sammy and Darius on the security camera monitors she looks relieved and excited and then we get a set of shots that imply she’s looking just at Sammy, this is followed by such a soft, warm, loving expression from Yaz that it melts my gay heart, and of course she’s incredibly concerned when she sees Tiff and Mitch approaching During their organized stampede, Yaz has to abandon the Jeep and, without hesitation, she leaps from the car into Sammy’s waiting arms, this is a mark of a great amount of character growth for Yaz because she not only trusts Sammy now but literally trusts her with her life, we also get an adorable moment when they are dismounting in which Sammy helps Yaz get down and holds both of her hands, when they all go in for a group hug we see Yaz place her hand on Sammy’s waist (as I mentioned in part 1 of this post series, that seems like an unusually place to put your hand on a friend and neither Sammy nor Yaz do that with anyone else in the group), when Sammy is listing her favorite people in the group as she and Kenji are hanging out in their gondola she mentions Yaz first while in Yaz's own gondola she is visibly longing to be over with Sammy (especially seeing how much fun Sammy and Kenji are having pushing on the sides of the gondola) instead of having to face Brooklyn and the fact that they are not close at all, just like when Sammy left Yaz with Kenji this feels almost like a deliberate move on Sammy’s part to get Yaz out of her comfort zone and forming closer bonds with the others (though I think it’s also an excuse for Sammy to spend some quality time with Kenji who definitely seems like he’s become a brother figure) We also get this moment a jealousy in which Yaz seems a little salty that Sammy is hanging out with Kenji (though on the surface it is about how they are messing around instead of helping, Yaz’s comment is definitely tinged with jealousy), this feels very much like the reaction of someone who has romantic feelings but doesn’t have the experience to properly interpret them and who has not been able to

talk about them or put a name to them, she clearly wants a closer relationship with Sammy but Yaz is unable to thoroughly define the relationship she wants which leaves her feeling like her needs aren’t being met in situations like this, in that sense she has fallen into a bit more of an insecure attachment again, she feels threatened by Sammy’s other friendships because she and Sammy haven’t differentiated their relationship from that of the friendships they have with the others I would just like to point out the lingering hug they share in which Yaz is clearly nuzzling Sammy’s neck and the fact that Yaz goes over to stand next to Sammy when she moves to hug Brooklyn, there’s no heterosexual explanation for that, or the way Yaz holds and comforts Sammy after pulling away from that dinosaur (if you look closely you can see Yaz rubbing Sammy’s arm with her thumb) And the scene where Yaz explains that Bumpy likes her so much because she keeps snacks in her pockets and then shares some of the snacks so Sammy can feed her too? Absolutely precious, we love to see Yaz being so soft with Sammy, like the way she calls out to her when part of the group goes to search Kenji’s dad’s penthouse for gas to put in the boat, or the way Yaz checks on Sammy while Ben’s siphoning gas from the limos in the penthouse’s garage, it’s clear here that Yaz also wants Sammy to be able to rely on her sometimes, to confide in her, Yaz doesn’t have time to respond in that moment because of yet another dinosaur attack (I also think that she was having a hard time responding because on some level Yaz is also afraid to go home) but the fact that she asked in the first place shows a lot of character and relationship growth, she even goes to check on Sammy later once they’re back on the boat, Sammy does the talking then and uses Yaz more as a sounding board but the gentle smile Yaz gives when Sammy walks away with the solution to her problem is absolutely priceless

[doctorthreephds]

Synapses: Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 4.8k

TW: Mentions of death and drugs--specifically from the episode Demonology

A/N: Hey! Just a forewarning, the forensic techniques in this are complete speculation from what I know and they are probably not accurate at all. 

Summary: After starting your new job and getting closer to Spencer, you find yourself having your first fight with your new friend when the anniversary of your mother’s death approaches. 

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @green-intervention​ @eevee0722​

Starting your new job was hard, like all things, but enjoyable. The first few days were learning the ropes and the area and you often came home exhausted, tired from a long day’s work in a lab you were unfamiliar with. The little things were what kept you going. Every day, you made an effort to eat lunch with your father--leftovers or food to go from a nearby restaurant or deli. When your father went away on his case, you spent time with Penelope in her bat cave. It was fun to hang out with her, spouting comedic rhetoric whenever someone called her for advice.

“Please don’t eat near the merchandise, baby, it’s my money maker,” she states, typing away at the speed of light as someone rings in. “Information highway speaking, you’re on speaker with me and the good doctor.”

You snort and let out a small laugh as you silently dig into your takeout box of chow mein.

“The good doctor? I thought that was me,” you hear Spencer speak up from the phone and smile, lifting your chopsticks to your mouth.  

“You’ve been replaced, Dr. Reid. Sorry!” you say before taking another bite of the noodles.

“What are you doing--”

“Stay on track, boy genius. What do you need from me?” Penelope asks and you zone out, not wanting to listen into the details of the gruesome murders they were investigating. While your job sometimes involved dead bodies, you were in fact eating lunch and wanted to keep your lunch down for the rest of the day. After they were finished, you could hear them wrapping up and you inserted a final goodbye.

“Bye Spencer! I’ll see you soon,” you state as the phone beeps to signal that the call has ended. 

“See him soon?” Penelope spins around as she fiddles with a pink pen with a puffball on the end that almost matches the pink blush on your face. 

“I mean I’ll see him when the case ends,” you mumble and toss your takeout box into her trash, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Hm, I’m sure that’s what you meant,” she smiles and turns back to her computer, typing something up. “If you need any info on him, I can tell you anything you want to know, sweets.”

“I’m not gonna do that, it’s an invasion of privacy,” you stand and check your watch, it’s about time for you to get back to work. “But if anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”

Other times, when your father was too busy to entertain you, you would eat with the others--or more specifically, Spencer. Travelling up to the sixth floor, you check to see if Spencer is anywhere nearby. When you deduce that he is nowhere near, his plush office chair becomes your new home as you open up your bag and grab the tupperware full of salad while you wait for his arrival. Opening the small container, you poke at the leaves with your fork and make a face when you see that they’re soggy and limp.

“Have a salad today?” he asks as you look at the sad lettuce in your small tupperware container. 

“Yeah. Although, it doesn’t look very appetizing,” you state and put it down on his desk, looking up at the cup of coffee in his hand that looked far more delicious than the monstrosity that was sad salad. 

“Did you know that salad comes from the latin word ‘herba salta’ which means ‘salted herbs,’ so perhaps you don’t have enough salt on your herbs,” he states and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you close the container and put it away. 

“Any more salt and my blood pressure’s gonna be at risk. Wanna grab lunch at the deli?” you ask and stand. He nods as the two of you exit the bullpen, taking the elevator down.

This was your schedule, and you loved it. It didn’t take that long for you to build a good relationship with everyone, constantly checking in on their lives outside of Quantico. Emily was doing well with Sergio, Henry was growing at a rate that JJ couldn’t comprehend, Penelope was still going out with Kevin, and you and Spencer were often found hanging out on the weekends when he wasn’t called away for a case. 

You found it odd how easily you took to Spencer, how his fun facts were always there to brighten up every conversation and his constant pursuit of knowledge was admirable. He took you to his favorite bookstore as well as his favorite used bookstore that he frequented in hopes of finding first editions and original copies. He also would take you to his favorite park, the one that he went to so that he could play chess and he would always win. It wasn’t always about him, though, you loved taking him to go see new movies as opposed to the older and foreign ones that he enjoyed. The two of you also committed to trying new foods together. With his sensory issues and your picky nature, you both embarked on a journey to eat new foods in hopes of finding something new and delicious.

While your new found friendship was almost perfect in the way that you committed yourselves, it too could not come without ups and downs. The first bump came when you helped consult on an unofficial case, something that had happened with Emily’s close friends. It was only a few days before the anniversary for your mother’s death and you were running on fumes.

“Hello?” you ask sharply, pouring over several reports that were due soon. Your temper was short today and you just wanted to go home.

“Hey it’s Spencer. Are you okay?” he asks and you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What do you need?” you sit back in your chair and take a sip of your coffee, attempting to quell your anxieties while he speaks.

“I’m not at Quantico right now, I’m at a victim’s house. His name is Thomas Valentine and he died of dehydration but Emily believes there’s foul play. I’ll have Garcia send over his tox reports along with Matthew Benton’s to see if the pathologist missed anything. We’re on our way back so feel free to meet us upstairs when we debrief,” he says and you nod, writing down the information on a stray post-it note so that you don’t forget. “By the way, your dad says ‘hi.’”

“Tell him I say ‘hi’ back. I’ll meet you upstairs,” you state and hang up the phone, sighing as you run your hands through your hair to release some nervous energy. It was only a few more days and you would be on your day off, it was only a few days until you would be able to visit your mom again.

Just as if she heard it from five floors up, you receive an email from Penelope with the toxicology reports from both victims. A quick skim shows that there is a lack of intense scrutiny due to the simple cause of death. But, if Emily and Spencer believe otherwise then it was in your best interest to assume so as well. Looking into Matthew Benton’s report, there was evidence of long-term methamphetamine abuse which could contribute to the death but nothing out of the ordinary. It was only midday and you were running out of steam but your friends needed you so you had to pull it together.

After printing out all the information you have and stashing it in a folder, you make your way up to the bullpen and watch people rushing around. The busyness and chatter made you a bit woozy but the sight of Spencer helped to ground out a bit. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have to be here,” he frowns as he sees you approach and you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I just want to help out in any way I can,” you mumble and move past him toward the conference room where almost everyone was gathered. Once Hotch arrived, they began to pour over details and possibilities within this pseudo-case. 

Listening intently, you take note of the evidence as it is laid out for you, the scuff marks under the bed, the missionary church in Spain that the two victims had visited, the idea that each family had been highly religious. Years of going to church in France and D.C. were being brought back in an instant. 

“That sounds like an exorcism,” you blurt out and look up to see everyone staring at you. It was odd to hold their attention but you nestled down in your chair and continued to listen. 

“Look, I know the Bible just as well as anyone, but I also know there’s nothing more open to behavioral interpretation than religion,” Derek comments.

“Meaning what?” Emily asks, shaking her head.

“I think it’s dangerous for us to wanna find a connection between these deaths,” he states.

“Wait, was Thomas’ wife religious?” Emily frowns and looks around at your father. 

“She was concerned that he had been cursing God,” your father recalls as Spencer dives into an inference. 

“Exorcism ritual can take days to complete. It’s possible the stress induced could cause a heart attack, especially in someone with a history of drug abuse,” he explains and looks at you. 

“Definitely, drugs leave marks on your body that are irreversible unless you completely stop. It makes an impact on your hair growth, your skin, your heart, so it’s completely plausible. And it could explain how someone died of dehydration,” the facts fly so fast through your head as you try to connect the dots while you speak, your head spinning. Even a couple minutes in the conference room was overwhelming, you couldn’t imagine doing this all the time.  

“Guys, look, I’m willing to say that we might have an unsub who ritualizes killings as if they were exorcisms, maybe. But, right now, we don’t even know if we have a crime yet,” Derek voices his concerns and you slowly nod, thinking about how you could help to clear up any room for error. It was possible if you were able to look at the bodies and examine them that you may have the ability to try and see if there were any other traces of possible deadly substances. 

“Morgan’s right. We need to step back. Let me talk to someone before I have us all telling ghost stories,” your father suggests and everyone appears to take this as time to cool off and rethink any possibilities, standing and leaving the room to follow their own leads. Dread settles in your chest as you sit in the chair, looking down at the folder to find any piece of information that could help you come to a conclusion but the words were flying around in your head and you felt too sluggish to do anything. 

“Do you think that you can get me the victim’s clothing? Perhaps something was done to them topically that would explain their deaths further,” you stand and sigh, already dreading going back to your reports. 

“Yeah, sure. It’ll be our lunch break,” he says and smiles. While his smiles usually have the power to brighten your entire day, your sour mood only extinguished any fire of joy inside your body.

“I have too much to do, just go on without me,” you respond and begin walking out of the conference room. You can already feel Spencer’s pestering bubbling up and wanting to know what’s wrong but you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“Are you sure? Studies have shown that taking breaks help boost blood flow and information retention--”

“I’m sure, Spencer,” you snap and continue walking toward the elevators before he reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you.

“What’s going on? Are you mad at me?” he asks.

“God, I’m fine Spencer! Stop babying me, you’re not my dad,” all the emotion that had been building up in the morning spilled out in anger and your heart shattered to see Spencer so confused and sad. “I’m sorry.”

Stepping into the elevator, you press the button to go down and watch the doors close in front of you, not looking anywhere in the direction of Spencer. The fluorescent lights above you suddenly look far too bright and tears well in your eyes. What would your mother say if she could see you now? Would she be disappointed? Would she be angry? A vibration in your pocket breaks you out of the self-loathing spiral.

From Dad (12:24PM):

I think you just about broke this kid’s heart.

To Dad (12:25PM):

I didn’t mean to. It’s just so close.

From Dad: (12:25PM):

Just tell him. He’ll understand.

To Dad (12:26PM):

I know. I love you.

As you sit at your desk and stare at the papers, your mind moves on autopilot to complete the rest of your tasks. With only two cups of coffee in your system, your head was starting to hurt and your focus was fizzing but when Spencer came back with a couple bags full of clothing to be processed, the guilt overpowered any feeling of fatigue.

“I brought the evidence. Just send the report to Garcia,” he states and drops the bag off at your desk before turning to leave. 

“Hey, Spencer?” he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowed as you speak. “I’m really sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

“I could have told you that, and I’m not even a medical doctor,” he mutters and sighs. The air between you is stale and you want to speak, but don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to stay and help me process the evidence? It’ll only take a little bit,” you ask, your voice small. He appears to ponder the thought before nodding and you smile, standing and taking the evidence over to one of your machines. This was where you thrived. While you worked in silence, it was comforting to have Spencer around, even if the two of you were still on rocky ground. 

You first started with isolating the fabric and the substances on the clothing. From there, you take them and test what they are to see if there are foreign substances that may have contributed to the deaths of Matthew Benton and Thomas Valentine. Processing goes quickly and you print out the report, frowning at the traces of nerve agent on the clothing.

“There’s sarin on their clothing,” you tell him and hand over the papers for him to read through. 

“Thanks,” he mutters and stands to leave. 

“Are we okay?” you ask him, watching him turn as you wrap your arms around your torso in a comforting way, warming your hands from the cold lab.

“Obviously not, if you’re not telling me something,” he puts down the folder and comes up to you, reaching out to take your hands. It was a bit of a shock, considering the fact that you knew he hated touching hands, but it was progress and it made your heart melt to think that he would feel safe enough to do so. “I know something’s wrong and I want to help you, but you’re not being honest with me.” 

“I just haven’t eaten, Spence. And I’m under the weather, which doesn’t help. I promise that I’ll be okay,” you tell him, staring up into his eyes and speaking with as much truth as you can. But it wasn’t convincing enough and he pulls away as if you just burned him.

“I guess you don’t trust me, then,” he mumbles and turns around, picking up the folder and getting into the elevator. As the doors close, he stares back at you like he was disappointed and it completely broke you. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as your chest bubbles with anxiety and sorrow. You find a seat at your desk and desperately try to wipe the tears away, breathing in deeply to calm yourself down. You were still at work and you still had work to do. 

Quickly, you dive back into your reports, writing them up as quickly as possible and pushing Spencer to the back of your mind. Before you know it, the end of the day comes and you’re out of the building and on the metro at record speed. The vibration of the wheels rolling over the tracks lulls you into a sense of security, distracting you from the pangs in your stomach. Without the distraction of work, your mind was able to wander.

Was it fair for you to hide this from Spencer? Why did you? Why did you need to keep this secret so badly?

Perhaps it was the years of being on your own after her death or the fact that showing sadness was opening yourself up to vulnerability and connection that you feared. Perhaps it was both, you didn’t have many friends in grad school and only talked to your dad once every blue moon. The thought of being a burden was unbearable, but losing Spencer was unfathomable. You could deal with a little bit of vulnerability if it meant getting your friend back. 

Your legs guide you home once you reach your stop and you reheat some rice and add some soy sauce to make something that is edible and that you can keep down without issue. After eating, you shower and head to bed, falling asleep the second that you hit the pillow. 

The next day, your alarm jars you out of a dreamless sleep, shaking you from a night that felt far too short. Your entire body was fatigued and your brain was a mess, but it was your last day at work before you got the day off. As you got ready and out the door, your phone was blowing up with information sent by Penelope and Emily. There was another death and they needed you to analyze the clothing of the third victim to confirm that nerve agent was being used to kill these men. 

One you reach the office, you sit down and begin writing as you await the evidence. If you worked quick enough and finished the reports, you would be able to go home early. The fog in your brain makes it hard to focus as you work on more write ups, the words barely forming sentences, but you force yourself to persevere through lunch. Late in the afternoon, Spencer appears again with the evidence bag you need to process.

“Just send the report to Penelope when you’re done,” he states and turns back around to get into the elevator but you stand and pipe up.

“Can we talk?” you ask, hoping and praying that he would let you speak. 

“I don’t know, can we? Because you seemed pretty adamant about keeping secrets from me last time we tried to talk,” he mumbles as he turns to look at you, his eyes dark and full of storm clouds. 

“I’m sorry,” you begin, trying to find the right words so that your thoughts form coherent sentences. “I’m bad at talking about what’s plaguing me. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse, I know, but it’s a start.”

You want to say ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, but it wasn’t an explanation and he deserved at least that.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother’s death,” his frown almost vanishes from his face as you speak which makes you feel a hint of encouragement to keep talking. “And I’ve always dealt with it alone. Maybe because I don’t let myself handle it any other way, but I hope that you’re able to understand. I’m sorry, Spencer.”

Staring down at the ground, you will the tears to stay in your eyes so that you can keep up some image of togetherness, but they fall as quickly as they form. Suddenly his arms are wrapped around you and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. This was him accepting your apology and you suddenly felt like you could breathe. You worm your arms around his torso and pull him close, allowing yourself to take in all of him. The smell of his cologne, the feeling of muscles as they squeeze you tight, the fact that his hands were intertwined behind your back and his head was settled on top of yours. 

“I’m sorry too,” he mumbles and you pull away slightly to look up at him. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

He pauses as he also stumbles over his words.

“But, I’m glad you did.”

You let out a sigh and hug him tight again, wanting to memorize the way his arms felt around you. After another long hug, you pull away and wipe your nose, shaking your head as you look over at the evidence bag. 

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I’ll get to processing your clothes now,” you mumble and let out a light laugh as you wash your hands and ready the evidence, processing the substances on his clothing. Beside you, Spencer leans against the wall and watches silently. It’s a bit nerve wracking to have someone watching you the way that he does, with bright eyes and attentive body language, but you do your best to explain it to him as the machine brings up the results. 

“Nerve agent, it’s sarin,” you turn to him. “Go tell them.”

He nods and picks up the newly printed report.

“I’ll come get you afterward,” he promises. “We can ride the train together.”

“There’s no need, I’m going home now. Just text me,” you smile up at him as he nods and takes your hand, squeezing it one last time before leaving.

You feel lighter now, like you lifted a rock off your chest. It was a burden, keeping secrets, but now you could feel a little bit better. After writing up all the procedural stuff on how you processed the evidence, you pack your bag and head to the metro. When you’re on the train, you get a text from Spencer telling him that they caught the priest and he was being deported back to Italy. 

To Spencer (7:45PM):

I’m glad.

From Spencer (8:01PM):

Do you want me to come over?

To Spencer (8:02PM):

No, it’s okay. I’ll be okay.

When you finally arrive at your stop, you easily find your way home. There was still sadness lingering, it was getting to be that time, but you had Spencer and that was enough. Getting home and getting to bed is a quick ordeal after you eat something and drink way too much wine to try and drown your sorrows and quiet your mind. The same days every year, you take a couple off so that you can mourn the loss of your mother and visit her grave. It was almost like a way to pretend that she was alive, even if just for a day. You had a lot to tell her after everything that’s happened, but it still didn’t help the fact that she was gone forever. 

Waking up the next morning is rough, it feels like a train plowed into you after a night of tears shed and one too many glasses of wine as you reminisced. Looking at your phone on this bright Friday morning, you see that you’ve managed to sleep in pretty significantly, but at least it was still technically morning. Waiting for you are a text from your father and a text from Spencer.

From Dad (6:00AM): 

Chin up, tesoro. Your mother loved you very much, she would be proud of everything you accomplished. 

From Spencer (7:02AM):

Do you want to get dinner after work?

From Spencer (7:34AM):

Where are you?

From Spencer (8:01AM):

Let me know what I can do.

The blanket of isolation took over you as you slowly began your morning routine, slowly being the key word. While Spencer knew, you didn’t know what to do now. This was uncharted territory for you and while you knew you weren’t alone, you had also never mourned with another person besides time spent at your mother’s funeral. Perhaps another year, another time. He was only just your friend. 

After you throw on comfy clothes and brush your teeth, you put your hair up so that it’s out of your face and eat some cereal--something easy and virtually effortless. Once you finish, you make a mental note of what you’re going to pick up at the store before heading to the cemetery to spend time with your mom. Throwing on a coat and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you punch in the security code and open the door to see Spencer there.

“Spencer? What are you doing here, it’s only like two,” you frown and close your apartment door behind you, locking it with your keys.

“I finished up all my paperwork so I took a half day and I wanted to cheer you up,” he states as you look up at him. “Maybe we can watch some Star Wars or that vampire movie you always talk about.”

“I’m going to visit my mom,” you tell him.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll go then,” he says and begins to turn and walk away but you pipe up before he can get too far.

“Why don’t you come with me?” you ask. He was already here and he wanted to help you feel better. His presence alone was grounding, reminding you of what you had and not of what you lost. 

“Are you sure?” he asks and you nod, walking up next to him.

“She would have loved you,” you almost reach out and take his hand before you realize what you’re about to do. “Can--Can I hold your hand?”

You’re almost positive he’s going to say no. After all, you know he has issues with germs and sensory issues, the day before being a special occasion because you had broken down crying in front of him. But, when he nods and holds out his hand, you feel your heart flutter. The two of you make your way downstairs in a comfortable silence and the warmth of Spencer’s hand in yours is comforting. As you exit the elevator and make your way out onto the street, the cold D.C. air is refreshing.

Together you walk to the local grocery store to grab some food and flowers, daffodils, which were your mother’s favorite. After, you ride the metro down near the cemetery. This whole time, the presence of Spencer is enough to distract you from the ever present cloud looming over your head, but when you finally walk through the cemetery’s gate, all hell breaks loose. 

When Spencer hears you sob, he instantly wraps his arms around you. The floodgates open and you softly sob into his chest, your arms wrapped around him in a vice. Your heart hurts, you miss your mother. She should have been alive to see all the accomplishments, to see your wedding and your second graduation. It’s times like these where you wonder if anything could have been done, if you could have seen the symptoms sooner or if you could have found another doctor, but your father always reminds you that you did everything in your power to help her and that she would have been proud of the person you were today. 

Once your sobs subside, you sniffle and pull away to wipe your nose. 

“Sorry for crying on you,” you huff out a small laugh and try to wipe away some of the snot that got on him while you cried.

“It’s okay, I understand,” he says and you sit down on the blanket, Spencer sitting next to you and helping to lay out the food. 

“Hey mom,” your voice breaks a little and you clear your throat before turning to Spencer. “This is Spencer and he works with dad. He’s my best friend.”

You smile at him as he turns and waves at her headstone. The notion is so heartwarming that you feel the tears rise up again.

“Hi Ms. Montgomery, your daughter is one of the best people I know,” he says as you begin to eat cheese and crackers from the charcuterie board.

“He works in the same building I do, I got the job at Quantico. I know that FBI agents and you don’t mix very well but I enjoy my job and they have all these new machines for me to play with,” you lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder and continue talking as he wraps an arm around you instinctively. As the two of you sit there and pick at the food, continuing to talk about your mom and your fondest memories, there’s a part of you that wishes it could be like this always. Maybe you didn’t have to always hide your sadness and spend it in isolation. And just maybe, there was always a rainbow after a storm.

[grayson1996]

You Have to Let Me Go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210816

No. 1 All trussed up and still nowhere to go.

"You have to let go" | Barbed Wire |Bound

Unlike what most people assumed, the cave was not usually a quiet place.

How could it be, when each one of Bruce’s children would filter in and out throughout the day and night. To ask questions, to spar, to prepare for patrol. Each inhabitant of the manor came with their own soundtrack that when put together created a familiar and comforting symphony.

Damian was the sound of quiet purposeful footfalls, followed by the scurrying steps of a small animal trailing dutifully after him. He was small huffs of breath made out of annoyance or interest (or amusement if it was a good day). The metallic sound of a sword being drawn out of it’s sheath, followed by the dull thud of it striking one of the many wooden posts in the training area. When Damian first appeared at the Manor he had been like a ghost, gliding along and hiding in the corners of rooms and the sides of hallways. The League believed that their assassins should neither be seen nor heard. The sound was a relief to Bruce, an outward sign of his youngest growth.

Cassandra, like Damian, was taught to be silent. Deadly quiet. And to this day Bruce couldn’t hear her coming and was often spooked by her sudden appearance, much to her amusement. But she too had her own trills. The sound of the skin on her hands rubbing together as they signed to whoever was nearest to her. A breathy chuckle, usually in response to something done by Stephanie or Dick. The awful sound of knuckles cracking striking through the cave. Despite Alfred's reasoning that it would cause arthritis Cass wouldn’t stop and frankly Bruce thought the twitch that appeared above his surrogate Father’s eyes when it happened was hilarious.

Tim was the slurping of coffee, and the rumblings of an empty stomach. He was the quick typing of a keyboard, and the distracting tapping of his foot against the side of the computer console. People thought that Dick was the most fidgety of his children, but it was Tim. Though true that Dick enjoyed moving, his movement was always purposeful. While Tim’s seem to flick out of him sporadically and without much thought. Tim was also the most spatially unaware of his children, though whether that was from lack of grace or just sleep deprivation was anyone’s guess. It wasn’t uncommon to be alerted of his approach by the sound of something being knocked over or of a quiet curse being uttered after stubbing his toe on the stairs.

Jason perhaps contributed to the symphony of the cave the least, though thankfully his presence had become more and more common in the years since his resurrection. The sounds he made were purposeful and designed to annoy. The sound of chips being crunched by an open mouth during a mission report. A scoff at the end of an order or request. And on bad days the sound of arguing, of things being thrown and property being destroyed. But on softer days it was more comforting. The crinkle of a packet of cigarettes in his back pocket being smushed as he leaned against the computer console. Leather rubbing against leather as he crossed his arms. A quiet ‘thank you’ to Alfred after being handed a cup of tea. Or even a softly sarcastic ‘See ya old man’ if Bruce managed to get through an interaction without pissing him off.

All these sounds, these beautiful little noises that told Bruce his children were home, were safe. All of these sounds were gone from the cave. As he sat alone, staring blankly in front of him at the black computer screen. Half dressed in a torn and ripped Batsuit, his cowl and gloves having been discarded at some point. It was a space he hadn’t left for nearing three days much to his family's chagrin and thinly veiled concern. At the end of the first day he had locked them out, pushing back the familiar feeling of guilt as he did so.

He wasn’t sure if he was punishing himself. Perhaps he deserved this, deserved to be denied the comforting presence of his children, and deserved the oppressing quiet? Or perhaps he just didn’t have the energy to get up from this spot, to do anything. Perhaps it was easier to just sit here alone in the dark and quiet, because moving seemed impossible at the moment.

Usually when he sequestered himself away from any stimuli or love, he would be hounded by his thoughts. He would allow them to fester and devour his happiness, and drain him of anything resembling hope. He would allow himself to feel as awful as possible, because he deserved to tear himself up from the inside out.

Now however his thoughts were blank, deafened by the silence as though he were wearing noise cancelling headphones and his thoughts were the outside world. It was all blank, silent, there was nothing except him and his chair and the blank screen in front of him.

Then a warm hand gently placed itself on his shoulder.

“They’re worried about you.” Bruce let out a heavy sigh.

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you too.”

“I’m fine.” A snort of disbelief followed his statement.

“Clearly.”

“Why are you here?” The silence grew again and for a moment the hand began to retreat.

“I can go if you’d like?”

“NO!” Bruce spun around in his chair and reaching out he grabbed the tan hand and held it tightly in his grip. His son raised an eyebrow but did not retreat further.

“Alright I won’t.” Sitting down on the ground next to him, Dick’s gaze did not move from Bruce. “You look like shit.” Despite himself Bruce let out a huff of amusement, and felt warmth as Dick grinned back in triumph. “Seriously, take a shower B and get out of those clothes. You know Alfred’s upstairs dying to get you a proper meal.” Bruce shook his head, his grip tightening around Dick’s hand.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can, all you have to do is stand up and put one foot in front of the other.” Bruce shook his head again.

“I can’t leave you.” Dick let out a heavy breath, and his eyes softened at the admission.

“You can’t stay down here forever B.” Bruce felt his chest tighten and his gaze quickly flickered over to the med bay where the curtain was drawn.

“I’m not ready.”

“Bruce-”

“ I’m not ready.” His tone was stern and for a moment Dick’s eyes narrowed, much like they had when the two were younger and always at each other’s throats. When it was just the two of them and neither knew how to be a Father or a Son. But just as quickly Dick’s face smoothed over, changing into something kinder then pity. Empathy perhaps.

“Okay, you’re not ready. But at least let the others down here Bruce. Isolating yourself like this, keeping them locked out and grieving on their own? It’s not kind B, you should all be together.” There was truth in his son’s words but still Bruce couldn’t let himself get up and see his other children. Because to see them, to let them in and to acknowledge what had happened meant that it was over. It meant that Dick was dead, and all that remained was his body now being kept cool in the medbay so that it didn’t begin to decompose.

And if Dick was dead then what the hell did that mean for Bruce, for the rest of them?

Dick was the one to calm Damian down after yet another fight with Bruce. Dick had been the one to soften the boy, raise him even. Damian didn’t deserve to lose the man. Didn’t deserve to lose the kindest person in his life.

Dick was the one to pull Tim away from the computer screen when he was going on his 3rd night of no sleep. To pry his phone out of his brother's hand, and tuck the boy into bed. He was the only one who could get away with treating Tim like a child. He was the only one who could get away with showing Tim love, without the boy recoiling in uncomfortableness.

Dick was the one who brought Jason back. Maybe not back to life but to the family for sure. Dragging the man in after him for a family dinner, pushing Jason to the table and breaking the tension with a quip or bad joke.

Dick was the one who brought Cass to her first dance lesson, and encouraged Stephanie to get her Masters, and got Alfred to take a break and join them for movie nights.

Dick was the one who had given Bruce hope again. Dick was love, Dick was family, Dick was goodness and righteousness and fury and passion. And all of sudden he was gone, with little fanfare or reason. He was just…. gone.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this chum.” Dick shrugged his shoulders, a small smile on his face.

“You just do it Bruce. You just get up and move forward. It sucks and I’m sorry but sitting here alone is only going to make it worse… and it’s only going to make them resent you.” Bruce knew he didn’t deal with death well. It was obvious in the black eye Dick sported after Jason’s death, in his anger after Damian’s. His whole life was built around it, and while he loved what he and his family had created as Batman, part of him hated it as well.

“I’m not a man who can change Dick…. It’s not something I ever learned how to do.” The confession was quiet and Bruce felt uncomfortable by the unusual genuineness of his words. Dick chuckled and shook his head incredulously.

“Of course it takes me dying to finally get you to open up.” The words were said without any scorn but it still caused something heavy to settle in Bruce’s gut. Dick however continued. “You have to grieve Bruce, you can’t push this away and ignore it. You have to let yourself grieve, and you have to let the others do it to. And it will suck and it will be hard and some days you won’t want to say my name because you just can’t . And some days you’ll forget for a moment that I’m not gone, and you’ll go to call me or turn to talk to me and then you’ll remember. And it will hit you like a brick.” Dick smiled sadly at him. “And it will be especially hard because you have lost a lot of people in your life but you haven’t let yourself experience that loss”

“ I can’t do this Dick . I’ll break.” Dick shook his head.

“So you let yourself break. And then you do what anyone who has lost someone does, you put yourself back together.”  Dick sat up from the ground and moved to kneel in front of Bruce. Placing both his hands on his Father’s knees. “I can be there for them Bruce you have to be, which means you have to let go. You have to let go of me and let yourself fall, and trust trust that you’ll be able to get back up again.”

Maybe it was because this was all happening in his mind. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation and lack of food and water. Maybe it was because looking at Dick all he could see was the little boy who over 20 years ago first taught him how to actively live life again. Maybe it was the knowledge that the same little boy was now lying several feet away, dead. Whatever it was Bruce knew that he needed to do things differently.

Jason’s death had felt like a punishment. Dick’s felt like a lesson.

“I’ll try Dick… I can’t promise that I’ll do it all right, but I’ll try.” Dick smiled and standing up he pulled Bruce into a deep hug. The arms seemed less real then they had before, but the warmth and love was obvious. “....I’m going to miss you Chum.” A small huff of amusement brushed the top of Bruce's head.

“I love you too B.”