#a jester is NOT just a funny guy sometimes hes the sufferer

[iucemon]

is this anything

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It's LitMoR week gang! And I'm still working on this damn chapter, so here's a short snippet so I don't reveal too much in this chapter, featuring Fjord Suffering.

-

Fjord finally got fed up and simply cast Arcane Gate to bring them safely to one of the other halls. If it wasn’t the correct hall, they would have to repeat this nonsense again, but, for the moment, it was a solution. Cree turned to thank him and immediately covered her mouth. Oh.

“What? Yes, I know my hair is sticking up. It’s actually getting quite itchy.” Fjord scratched at his beard and watched in horror as coarse black hair flaked off in his hands. “…What?”

Jester choked on a sound, but began pushing people through the Gate while Fjord just stood there dumbfounded by his own hand. Cree had to shove him through, the force of dragging him through the portal knocking loose the remainder of his salt and pepper facial hair. Fjord stumbled through to the other side, swept off his hat and began to pull thick clumps of black hair from the inside of it.

“What?” He repeated, his voice rising in octave.

Keg wheezed. “Fuck. I think- I think-“

“Let it out, Keg, it’s okay,” Caduceus said, nearly doubled over, himself.

She was crying now, big fat tears tracing lines through her dirty stubble as she tried to speak through her quiet laughter. “I think you just got your wig snatched.”

Fjord ran a hand over his impossibly smooth head and gave a single, profoundly pathetic, “Fuck.” He whipped to Lucien. “You’ve been here before. Is this forever?”

“Never had this one happen, eh?” Lucien snickered. “Happened to me once. I learned to love it until it finally grew back.”

Fjord, panicking, whipped to Cree, who schooled her expression to help her sell the lie. Behind her the Tombtakers were nodding, quick to pick up on a group joke. Even no longer connected to the Somnovem together, they were still friends, who frequently existed in sync. It had taken very little time to fall back into those patterns, if one could ignore the implications of the phrase. “You pull it off far better than Lucien did.”

“Cree, this isn’t funny!”

She plucked his hat from his hands, dumped the hair out of it, and then placed it back on his head. “Yes, it is.”

“IT IS NOT,” Jester squealed. “He had such beautiful hair and it took so fucking love for it to grow and he had a little-bitty ponytail and everything and oh my gosh. Maybe I have diamonds-“ She started to rummage through her bag, but both Cree and Caduceus lunged to stop her.

“It will grow back,” Cree consoled her in a whisper so Fjord couldn’t hear. “I was only playing. It will return within a day at least. Do not waste your diamonds on vanity, please.”

Jester looked to Caduceus to confirm this and he gave a nod, still looking like he was actively trying not to laugh. “Listen, he deserves it sometimes. Humility’s good for people.”

She stuck out her lip in a pout. “If it doesn’t come back, I’m gonna be so mad, you guys.”

[7of-hearts]

beauyasha week day 3: scars

this one’s much shorter than my post for day 1, but that’s just life sometimes. there are allusions to childhood neglect and some canon typical violence in this one my friends, but i hope you like it

Beau gets her first scar when she’s six, a dropped glass she’d tried to clean up before her father found out. A small, faded thing on the side of her thumb, the first of so many. She finds it almost funny that she still remembers the story so clearly. She’s got other, far more interesting stories behind the scars that map her body, and yet this one sticks out. When Yasha finds the thin line, Beau tells her about it readily. It isn’t until she sees the hint of sadness in Yasha’s eyes that maybe it’s fucked up. 

“When we were in Kamordah, when we saw your father, I told him he was lucky to have you,” Yasha says after a moment. “Though, I do not think he deserves you.”

Beau can only sit in silence after that, curled against Yasha’s body as the barbarian runs her thumb over the scar. 

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” She says, tucking herself further into Yasha’s body, away from the memories of that neglectful household. Yasha brings their hands up to her lips, pressing a small kiss to the scar before she speaks again.

“I know I am,” she whispers in Beau’s ear.

_____

The next scar Yasha asks about runs down her upper arm, slightly jagged and still a little raised. They’re in the tower, Yasha’s arms wrapped around Beau. Her fingers dance over the scar, lingering long enough for Beau to know she’s curious about the story.

“That’s from when I was still pawning my family’s wine. Tori and I were selling a few cases to these seedy guys a few towns over. Assholes thought we were charging too much, despite the fact that it was already way cheaper than it should have been, and shit just escalated. Managed to take ‘em out before any real damage could be done, but one got in a lucky swipe with his dagger before I could knock him out.

Tori tried to patch me up, but we didn’t really have any bandages on us. Had to rip some cloth off the bottom of my shirt instead. Didn’t end up selling the wine, but at least I got a cool scar out of it,” Beau tells her.

Yasha doesn’t respond, just shifts behind Beau so she can press a kiss to the scar. After, she scoots back up the bed, enveloping Beau in her warmth before saying,

“It is a pretty cool scar,” and Beau can’t help but huff out a laugh, a small smile settling on her lips as she falls asleep.

_____

Of all the scars Yasha maps out across Beau’s body, she returns to the one trailing down the monk’s sternum the most. Each time, there’s a distant grief in Yasha’s gaze, and Beau wants nothing more than to ease that anguish. Each kiss Yasha places there feels like a silent apology.

They’re in the tower again, Yasha’s head pillowed on Beau’s chest, fingers brushing against the edge of the scar tissue. 

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on your face that night in the cathedral,” Beau starts, rather unsure of where she’s going with this. Yasha tilts up to listen regardless, so she continues. “I know Jester told you that you were crying, but gods Yash, the pain in your eyes in that moment. It hurts me more than anything else, how long we took to free you from him. I don’t think I ever fully apologized for that.”

“You guys were trying though, if you had come after us sooner you might have died.” Yasha says, letting the I might have killed you go unsaid. Beau moved her hand to trail through the aasimar’s hair, letting her words hang in the air around them.

“Maybe, but I’m still sorry. You suffered so much under his control, and I wish I could take that weight from your shoulders,”

“Just help me carry it,” Yasha replies before pressing her lips against the scar. Not an apology, instead, a promise that she will share the weight.

[unicyclehippo]

family & jester

‘Did you ever want more siblings, Beau?’

It doesn’t really occur to her until after she’s asked that it might be a touchy subject—not just because of her actual brother but the whole family thing is, well. Difficult.

But she must have caught Beau in a good mood because her friend barely stirs. Her hand twists lazily on the end of her wrist, dipping fingers into the cool pond she lays beside. The wind that whips across the surface of the pool, bringing the chill with it, is gentle, playful. Dips into tall grass and the ribbons tied onto Beau’s bo, into the pleats of Jester’s skirts and to tinkle the jewellery that hangs upon her horns. Somewhere in the distance, a frog croaks. There’s a plop and a wet slap and a splatter as something sends it bounding away and into the pond. There’s the drone of bees not far from them, and the burbling of conversation that sounds like it comes from a half dozen Caduceus’s—the whole family awakes early, apparently. Like Beau had.

‘Sometimes.’

Jester had very nearly forgotten what she’d asked; she’d very nearly forgotten that she’d asked anything at all, if she’s being honest, distracted as she was by the garden and the conversation just out of earshot and the sight of Beau in her training pants and breastband, shirt discarded at some point as she had been training. Sweat glistens on her abs, her biceps, the remarkable hooked definition where the musculature of her upper arms meets the cording tendon of her elbows. The faint discoloured texture of scars and stretch marks across Beau’s abdomen and hips. Has Jester ever seen her like this before? She has changed in Jester’s company before but that is always in the dark of their room—dark vision or no, Jester doesn’t think she’s seen Beau in vibrant lively lovely colour, half-naked in the daylight.

It’s. It sure is something else.

‘You?’

‘Huh?’

Beau blinks open one eye. Rolls it in her head until she can see Jester standing only a few feet away. ‘Did you want more siblings?’

‘Oh.’ Jester blinks a few times hard. Sits with a thump and kicks her legs out, pulls a clump of grass into her hands to peel at the blades, twist the dew-coated leaves into rings and bows and knots. ‘That wasn’t really an answer, Beau.’

‘What? Whaddya mean it wasn’t an answer?’

Jester grins. Watches Beau lift herself smooth—core tightening—into a half-sitting position, bracing herself on her elbows as she cricks her neck to glower at Jester.

‘Now why’re you grinning at me?’ Beau demands, and its funny because with the whole world so gentle and quiet around them—not silent, but quiet—Jester can hear perfectly clearly what she has long known and longer suspected. That rough words, rough tone... That’s sometimes all it is. Just a cloak. Without the whole world vying for their attention, and screaming in their ears, Jester can hear Beau.

‘You’re so dramatic, Beau.’

‘Me? Drama—I’m not dramatic. You’re dramatic. And a distraction. You still haven’t answered the question.’

‘Neither have you!’

‘Yes I did, I said sometimes.’

‘Sometimes isn’t an answer.’

‘I mean, technically it—’

‘Technically,’ Jester interrupts very sweetly and leans forward, sliding a grass ring onto Beau’s forefinger, ‘if you have to defend yourself by saying technically, it probably isn’t a good argument.’

‘Or I’m being a skeeze.’

‘Or you’re being a big old skeeze,’ Jester agrees.

Beau admires the grass ring for a moment. She lays back down, crossing her ankles, and resting her head on the hand she had been dipping into the pool. She doesn’t seem to mind the feeling of a wet hand. ‘I thought about it,’ she says. ‘A lot. Mostly as a kid. Yknow, lots of—I say lots but there was only, what, five other families in Kamordah we really spoke to. But those families, all of ‘em had two or three kids. I thought about it a lot. Built in friend, a sibling. And when I got older, I just really wanted someone else to. Suffer with me?’ She says it like it’s a question, but Jester doesn’t know what she’s asking—if it makes sense? Or if she’s bad for thinking it?

It’s not supposed to be this easy to talk to Beau about things like this. She’s stand-offish and rude and protective of her secrets—except when they’re alone, though. Isn’t that—hasn’t that kinda always been the case? Beau will tell her things. Provided they’re alone. Provided it’s just Jester.

‘So? What about you?’

‘No,’ Jester says, shrugs. She twists the last portion of another ring into place, knots it deftly. ‘Hand.’

Beau offers her hand, fingers splayed. Jester slides the ring next to the first. The third one she thinks should have a flower or something, just a little one. Like a jewel.

‘You really never wanted a sibling?’

‘I don’t think so. My whole life I knew...it was a risk? Having me. Keeping me there. It would have been silly to have another one.’

‘Yeah. I guess.’

‘And besides,’ Jester says, and she leans forward so she’s bent at the waist and her head is almost over Beau’s, her shadow covering one half of her face, ‘I like having all my mama’s attention.’

‘You? Like attention? No way.’ Beau teases. Snorts. She opens her eyes when Jester slaps her shoulder gently, grins up at her, eyes glittering with the sunlight and her smile as she catches Jester’s wrist, keeps her from doing it again. Her fingers are dry and cool and the grass itches against the sensitive skin of Jester’s wrist.

‘What about kids?’ Jester asks. The question isn’t one she expected—it emerges from beneath her tongue where it had been hidden even from her.

There are no clouds in the sky for once; still, Beau’s eyes darken like storm clouds had rolled in overhead. They don’t shine with her smile. They seem to dull, so quickly it sends a pang through Jester’s chest. Another follows fast on its heels when Beau lets her hand drop from Jester’s.

‘Kids? Nah.’

Jester thinks she’s lying. Beau’s voice is rough, tone crushed forcibly flat.

‘Because you don’t like kids?’

Beau shrugs. Squeezes her eyes shut and turns her head like she’s a flower searching for the sun.

‘Beau?’

‘What?’

‘Can you really not see...any kind of future?’ Beau goes very still then and, when she doesn’t speak even after a drawn out moment, Jester continues. ‘I heard you. What you said to Essek? I know you say you lie a lot, especially to people you don’t trust so I don’t...know if that’s what this is but I did hear you.’

‘Huh.’

‘You thought you’d be dead by nineteen.’

Beau breathes out shakily but doesn’t say anything.

‘Is that—I mean, you didn’t know any of us when you were nineteen, I guess it’d be really cool and strange if you’d planned for us.’

Beau barks a laugh. ‘No. I sure as fuck didn’t plan for you guys. Or you.’

It’s a serious conversation. A sad one, even. A thrill doesn’t go through Jester at the acknowledgement that she is something more. She just likes the attention. That’s all.

‘I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout kids or wars or shit like that at nineteen. I wouldn’t never’ve imagined...’

‘What about now? Can you imagine it now?’

Beau’s smile crinkles one full half of her face. She turns her head very slightly—eyes still closed—as the sunlight returns full force from wherever it had been hiding.

‘Beach house. Couple kids running. Luc. Maybe Kiri. She’s found her home though, I guess.’

‘Yeah. She seems happy. I scry on her sometimes.’

Beau nods. She doesn’t seem surprised by that. Or isn’t letting it distract her from her daydream.

The morning is bright and warm and quiet. Jester ruins a few grass rings and the smell of the broken blades are crisp and clean in the air. Green clings to her fingers, and in small parts to Beau’s when Jester slides another ring into place.

‘You thinking’ about this shit because of Ducey?’ Beau asks. ‘Saving his home and all that?’

‘Maybe. I guess.’ Jester shrugs. ‘I’ve never met someone with so many siblings.’

‘Yeah, no wonder he’s weird. Two happy parents, a host of siblings, and a good home. He’s practically a freak in our group.’

Jester laughs, more amused by the fondness and faint irritation in Beau’s voice than the actual joke which is...kinda sad, if she thinks about it. So she doesn’t.

[daesungfmd]

playlist 1.

seven songs describing different stages of daesung’s life so far.

lights, up we go  /  2008  ―  2012.

here, in a familiar place. we got our heads down and we pretend it’s ‘cause the night is dark and running out of space for us to run around, but it’s a dead end and money’s tight. it’s been a long time of this  ―  something has got to give. everyone here is ready to go, it’s been a hard year with nothing to show. from down this road, it’s only on we go. everyone here is ready to go, it’s been a hard year and i only know from down this low, it’s only up we go.

2008 is the earliest year of daesung’s life that he vividly remembers. before 2008, his life definitely had downsides, but he didn’t have much that he could rightfully complain about; at the end of even the hardest day, things were still… good. but 2008 brought more hardships than daesung was equipped to handle  &  saw his relationship with his mother deteriorating. they were both struggling, but instead of coming together to support each other, they frequently lashed out and simply made things worse. in the three years that followed, daesung became better at supporting his mother, but he rarely felt supported in return  ―  internally bitter with the idea that he was having to act as a parent, but in reality, she was so caught up in keeping their family afloat that she often fell short on the emotional side. they were also beginning to struggle financially (which only got worse and worse over the months, with his mom falling far enough behind that it didn’t seem like she’d ever catch up), which added a feeling of helplessness to the loneliness that daesung was (poorly) dealing with. generally a bad time all around, but they both continued to pretend that they weren’t struggling so no one around them would pity them, even though they definitely could’ve used some assistance. this was around the time that daesung became extremely ambitious (surprisingly). set high goals in his personal life, his school life  &  for his future career because……. life can not suck like this forever!!! it’s gotta be up from here, right?

john the ghost, red house  /  2008  —  present.

if you’re not everything, you’re nothing ‘til you try to be. nobody needs saving, just a little bit of empathy. you can’t save the ones you love, but who would really want to? who would really want to?

i touched on daesung’s relationship with his mom in the explanation for the previous track, but it goes a lot deeper than a few sentences could ever explain. before 2008, she was outwardly happy and very, very loving — after 2008, she hardly seemed like the same woman. she and daesung endured the same pain, but neither of them coped healthily. neither got counseling, either, so they often took their sadness and pain out on each other in the form of harsh words and accusations. more often than not, they were fighting. the only time they got along was when they were in daesung’s mom’s salon, and even then, they still argued quite a lot, just with softer voices. after the first year, they started to build back the relationship they’d had prior to 2008, but it was a slow process and often involved daesung taking blame for things that (usually) weren’t his fault & having to calm his mom down when she got too angry or sad. things never did fully go back to how they once were and even now, twelve years later, daesung’s still bitter over how things turned out. how he so often had to take on responsibility that he was too young to deserve and how she failed to emotionally support him like he supported her. he realizes that having to provide financial support took almost all of her energy, but still — it doesn’t change the fact that he felt like he was lacking parental love at that time and even feels like he’s still lacking it now. if you get them alone, a fight is almost always sure to occur, even if it’s a passive one that only ends with secretly hurt feelings rather than outwardly hurt ones. they both acknowledge the other’s suffering, but they’re both too clumsy and ashamed to apologize for the past twelve years or even give reminders that they love each other. most of their meetings are confined to her salon; a semi-public place where they can be semi-vulnerable without necessarily viewing it as a bad thing. they spend a lot of time together there, but rarely have conversations of substance and, as a result, they’ve both begun to feel a lot like strangers rather than family.

jimmy eat world, 555  /  2012   —   2014.

i keep my focus on the simple things, trying to find some peace along the way. i wish i knew how long i’m supposed to wait. holding on, but just barely. got the feeling i’ve been talking to a dead, dead line. there’s always a reason to let it change. is there anyone there listening while you cry, cry, cry? there’s always a reason for the pain. i’m doing the things that i’m told every day, every day, every day. then why does it feel like i’m moving in place?

training, in daesung’s opinion, simply sucked. he went into training completely blind, considering he didn’t even fully realize what he was auditioning for — just that it may or may not lead to him being a musician. the competitiveness was what hit him the hardest. he’s not a particularly competitive person, so he was more interested in making friends and having a good time (😔), but he didn’t encounter a whole lot of people who were as nonchalant as he was. he struggled to adjust to the trainee life and harsh criticism from trainers/supervisors hit him hard, being some of the first real criticism he’d ever received. he spent his two years as a trainee feeling really lonely, but he didn’t have anyone outside of the company that he could reasonably turn to — his lack of time meant that most of his friendships had vanished and he cut off all contact with his mom during this time, as well, so he couldn’t turn to her. he tried very hard to stay focused and optimistic, but his strength was wavering. especially because he frequently got scolded for doing things that he didn’t even realize he wasn’t supposed to do. felt like he was getting pushed around by life & the people around him, even though half of that was undoubtedly just self-pity amplified by his loneliness.

blackbear, i feel bad  /  2014  —  2016.

you’re so good at making me feel bad, at making me feel terrible about myself, good. you’re so good at making others hurt with only just your words, with only just your words and i feel bad. i don’t feel good.

daesung has a heart made of glass  &  his tendency to take things personal was a whole lot stronger when he was seventeen. sure, he was supposed to be the ~funny guy~, but constantly being the subject of jokes took a huge toll on his mental health in the beginning. he felt like no one acknowledged the fact that he’s an actual human being with actual feelings and, consequentially, felt like he wasn’t good for much aside from evoking laughter, even at his own expense. it didn’t help that inpulses hadn’t gotten the chance to know him on a more substantial level yet, so they, too, chose to make him into a joke. most comments or interactions at fansigns were ~playful teasing~ but enough ~playful teasing~ loses its humor, as he learned firsthand. eventually, he mastered the art of either initiating the jokes about himself so that they didn’t catch him off guard or swiftly changing the subject to something equally funny but not confidence-crushing. by 2016, he’d matured enough that he realized that’s just variety, baby! sometimes you gotta suck it up and get made fun of a little. learned to laugh at himself  &  fire back — nowadays, it’s virtually impossible to hurt his feelings with a joke and fans know him well enough to know that he’s more than just a jester.

glass animals, dreamland  /  2015  —  present.

you’ve had too much of the digital love, you want everything live, you want things you can touch. make it feel like a movie you saw in your youth, make it feel like that song that just unopened you. 

less than a year after debuting, daesung had already become bored of idol life. of course, it’s not like the industry itself is boring — it’s an eventful life with seemingly never-ending work hours, but all in all, it lacks the enthusiasm, color and realism that daesung has always, always craved. as a child and teenager, he already knew how big the world was beyond his own day to day life. half the reason he wanted to be a rockstar wasn’t because of his passion for rock music itself, but because of how rock ‘n’ roll is portrayed in the media. you can think whatever you want, but to daesung, their lively and borderline reckless lives appealed to him like nothing else ever had. to live like that — throwing caution to the wind, living for yourself and having fun was something he couldn’t fathom, but he wanted to experience it so bad. skip a few years in the future and he is a musician, but not the kind he wants to be. and nowhere near as free as he’d dreamt of being. his first complaint was backtracks on music shows; thoughts of how rock musicians would be called posers if they dared to perform without… well, actually performing. his second complaint was how strict the rules were. he learned to accept that there are extreme differences between idols and “real musicians” (as daesung himself would put it), but he still isn’t happy about it. you could say that he feels like his life is lacking something and possibly always will be lacking that something, but he tries to live as freely as he can while still avoiding ~controversies~.

grayscale, diamond  /  2016  ―  2018.

i know it took some time, but i got my footing right. feeling, i’m feeling so good tonight. can’t stop me from dancing, can’t keep me from blooming. welcome to my, welcome to my — this world is my diamond. 

as a public figure, it took some time before daesung was able to earn widespread approval. it’s not like he’s ever done anything controversial, it’s just that the rumors of him bring arrogant from next: origin story stuck around for a hot minute  &  his loud, impossible to ignore persona after debuting rubbed some folks the wrong way. by 2016, he’d managed to escape the negative opinions almost entirely and was able to ignore any lingering hate comments with ease. although he’s always had a happy and energetic demeanor publicly, any long-term fans could confirm in a heartbeat that he was the happiest from 2016 to 2018. during these two years, daesung felt like he was conquering the world — in retrospect, maybe this is really just the time when fame had him feeling the most invincible. but by 2019, there were other things factoring into his overall outlook, including his strong desire to break into acting versus gold star’s refusal to let him do so. he’s still pretty happy and grateful for where he’s at in life, but the elevated sense of self was left in 2018.

waterparks, lowkey as hell  /  2016  ―  present.

if you need me now, i’ll be there somehow. i’ll pick you up, we can ride. i’ll fly away like i bought my own airline, i’ll take you with me, we can ride. i’m highkey and lowkey as hell your diva, just wanna see ya. i’m highkey and lowkey as hell your sweetheart, don’t wanna be apart.

as a result from reading far too many hate comments about himself from next: origin story and promoting with songs that really, really embarrassed daesung, it took him a hot minute to fully adjust to idol life. he wasn’t sure what people thought of him (and as much as he tries to come off like he doesn’t care what people think, he definitely does), so he tried to shrink his presence as much as he possibly could. if for no other reason, then to at least get rid of the general public’s idea that he was arrogant. but by 2016, impulse had started making music that only slightly embarrassed daesung  &  he became more comfortable with the amount of attention that was on him. moreover, he become more comfortable with the love that his fans so readily gave him. he wanted to give them just as much of himself, even though the expected distance between idols and their fans made it hard to do so. since 2016, he’s been walking along a thin line more often than not, trying to get as close to his fans as he possibly can without ~breaking the illusion~ as his managers have so elegantly put it, even though daesung will argue that he’s not a magic trick and there shouldn’t be an illusion to begin with. he loves inpulses very, very dearly and constantly dishes out reminders in any way he can. he wants to be his best self for them  ―  not because that’s part of his job, but because he genuinely cares about who they are beyond a view count and nameless comments. their love and support is what keeps his spirits up and he wants to give them the same strength, no matter what. (aka daesung will never understand why he has to play a character instead of jus bein able to ACTUALLY be there for his fans)

[chaos-burst]

Since Taliesin said that Molly would never even consider seducing Caleb bc Damage™, what about a fic called "When you're ready"

Caleb isn’t sure how it happened, even though he knows exactly when it started.

What he knows is this:

Mollymauk has been flirting with him. Caleb knows this because he has watched him for a very long time, flirting with other people, winking, swishing his tail playfully, licking his lips when he is interested in someone. Caleb has catalogued every movement, every expression, every dip of Mollymauk’s voice when he speaks with someone he finds attractive.

His memory is flawless.

So when Mollymauk’s voice dips lower when he tells Caleb that his newest spell in impressive, Caleb knows. It’s in the way Mollymauk’s eyes linger on his face and how he smiles--almost absentmindedly--when he watches Caleb read in the corner of an inn while everyone else is drinking and having fun.

What Caleb also knows is:

Mollymauk always goes for what he wants. So it doesn’t make any sense that he would simply keep looking and smiling and flirting without ever getting physical. Without ever making innuendo that would suggest the two of them having sex. Mollymauk is very careful about the way he touches Caleb and it’s never suggestive. Never makes Caleb uncomfortable--as if Mollymauk has done all the calculations, has catalogued Caleb’s reactions to being touched in different ways, and then proceeds to stay in his lane.

Mollymauk Tealeaf, by definition of his very being, never stays in his lane.

Except when it comes to Caleb Widogast, it seems.

Caleb is a very smart man, but he has no idea what is going on. He’s able to understand the most complicated concepts, the most difficult types of magic, mathematical equations, elaborate grammatical structures of languages long dead. But he cannot for the life of him figure out one chaotic disaster of a Tiefling.

At this point, Caleb is sure he understands Jester better than he understands Mollymauk, and that is a feat he never hoped to accomplish when they first started traveling together.

It has been almost 15 months since Mollymauk came back from the grave a second time. It has been almost 14 months since Mollymauk started flirting with Caleb.

And in those 14 months not once has he tried to kiss Caleb, or put his clawed hands on Caleb’s thighs, or pushed him into a wall again, like he did so long ago in those catacombs.

It took Caleb 6 months to understand that he is, in fact, helplessly in love with Mollymauk Tealeaf.

But Caleb is still Caleb.

And of course it takes drastic measures to push Caleb over the edge.

What happens is this:

For all his work with fire, Caleb is still helpless when confronted with it. He throws flames around like it is nothing, he builds walls of fire and throws flaming spheres across battlefields. His own fire never burns him, but other people are just as adapt as him sometimes.

So when the flaming strike shoots towards him Caleb thinks for just a second that it is poetic justice that he is going to die just like his parents did. He can hear the twin screams of Jester and Beauregard.

Then a body wraps around him, a familiar, solid body covered in scars. Soft hair tickles him in the face for just a moment as Mollymauk--stupid, impulsive, self sacrificial Mollymauk Tealeaf--puts himself between Caleb and the flames.

Caleb’s panic engulfs him like a raging storm when the heat gets almost unbearable, but Mollymauk is still standing, still hugging Caleb close to his chest, as if his life depended on it. His brain is short circuiting, he can feel the panic creeping at the back of his mind when he smells burning flesh, but his brain also provides him with one completely ridiculous fact:

This is the first time Mollymauk has hugged him.

When the flames stop coming Mollymauk shudders around him and his grip loosens, before he stumbles to his knees.

“Mollymauk”, Caleb rasps. “What on--”

“Tiefling”, Mollymauk croaks and has the audacity to wink at Caleb. “Fire resistance, darling.”

Then he falls unconscious.

Caleb’s mind goes blank, because no, not again, not again, not again, not for him of all people.

Beauregard kills the man who threw fire at him with her bare hands. Caleb knows that he should probably fall into his catatonic state right now because of the smell and the sight of Mollymauk’s burned skin and--

Caleb has to ask him. He will not allow Mollymauk to die yet again, because how often can they tempt fate and bring people back from the dead? Caleb cannot know for sure, so he has to ask. He needs to know. He wants to understand.

He is there when Mollymauk opens his eyes the next day. The pale sunlight filtering through the milky windows makes his purple skin look strangely pale. Caleb looks at all the faint, thin scars on his upper torso, his neck, his arms. What a reckless way of fighting, he thinks, to hurt yourself in favor of making someone else suffer.

To hurt yourself so others might get away.

Caleb swallows.

“Hey, Mr Caleb”, Mollymauk says with an almost smile. “You ok?”

Caleb scoffs.

“I did not get burned to a crisp.”

“Funny how that works, huh?”

Caleb stares at him.

“Why?”, he asks bluntly. Before he can chicken out again, he has to ask. Mollymauk blinks at him slowly and it reminds Caleb so much of Frumpkin that he feels a smile tug at his lips. Damn it. He is so painfully in love with this ridiculous man, he almost can’t bear it.

Almost.

“Well, I told you, Mr Caleb. I’m fire resistant--”

“No. That is not what I mean. Why--why do you... What do you want from me, Mollymauk?”

It sounds harsher than Caleb had anticipated and he can see Mollymauk’s face fall. He watches as Mollymauk swallows and turns his head away, then takes a deep, controlled breath before his red eyes find Caleb’s face.

“Ah”, he says and manages a crooked smile. “We’re talking about that now, huh?”

“You almost died. Again. I feel like it is foolish not to speak about those things if you might just be dead again tomorrow.”

Molly nods slowly and swallows again. 

“To be honest, I’m not sure what you want to hear. I know that you know how I feel about you. So what exactly is it that you want to talk about?”

Caleb’s heart stumbles in his chest and he balls his hands into fists.

“I--Why? Why do you--what--”

“Caleb”, Mollymauk says and Caleb stops his stuttering. He closes his mouth and it costs him every drop if willpower to keep his eyes on Mollymauk’s face.

“I’ll say this once, ok? Because honestly, telling the truth is just exhausting, but I guess I can manage for you. I am very much in love with you, Mr Caleb. Maybe you think that’s ridiculous, maybe you even think I’m not that bad, maybe you don’t care at all. Who knows. I certainly don’t! But I know what kind of guy you are, yeah? I know you have... your baggage. That’s fine with me. All I’m saying is. I’m here. If, or you know. When you’re ready.”

Caleb stares at him. He’s not sure he heard correctly.

“You--I--”

“Yes. Also, don’t think about complaining because I saved your life. You can just buy me a drink or two. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Don’t tell Beau I told you so, or she’ll hit me again.”

Caleb feels like he should comment on Mollymauk’s confession. Say anything. But his throat is dry and his heart is hammering in his chest so hard, Caleb is sure it might just fly out of his rib cage. Damn this ridiculous man.

Maybe he can just tell Mollymauk that he doesn’t mind the flirting. That he is in fact in love with Mollymauk as well. Because Mollymauk doesn’t know and still he flirts and he is waiting.

The corners of his eyes are burning and none of those words come out.

“I will... I will get back to you with... with that”, he croaks and it’s definitely the most stupid answer to a love confession the world has ever seen. Shame washes over Caleb like a tidal wave. But Mollymauk smiles at him.

“That’s fine, Mr Caleb. When you’re ready”, he repeats. 

“When I’m... Ja. Ja, ok.”

[readbythestarlight]

c2e89

The last episode of 2019 here we go

Oh my god our last ad of the year is gonna be anime Gail Force V

I hate this xD

Ashley is my favorite person

I have heard an Aztec death whistle and I both hate and love that

Scrying on our baby biiiiird

I hope she's okay....

LAURA xD

[[MORE]]

The plank king girl really?? xD

Poor Matt

Oh my god JESTER STOP

Is he... thanking her for apparently killing their neighbors??

To... the inevitable end huh? xD

"We will not meet again" that's promising

Jester drawing Beau's dad melting into a puddle... why?

Fjord, Nott, Caleb on a quick errand, okay...

Wandering past Solstrice okay... just to show it to Fjord and Nott.

And now there's creepy music Matt was that intentional.

C: "I was not going to be a soldier like my father and I was... excited. I felt like I was where I was meant to be."

He wanted to be a TEACHER omg

He would be so good

Happy ending where he ends up teaching at an academy in Xhorhas someday

Or here someday after Trent is rotting in the ground

Professor Caleb Widogast guys I want that as his happy ending

"You're a good friend" I always get feelings about Fjord and Caleb when they have little moments like this

Caleb honey do NOT

Oh DAMN Beau has become a master researcher

Aha... so this one is different than the second one Empire had

God that means that if the M9 hadn't taken the first one the Empire would have had all three

Jester: "are you avoiding me? Because I didn't save you?" Oh honey

This whole conversation between Jester and Beau is amazing

Jester right now is how fandom thinks of Molly and Beau is how I think of Molly

Oh no Jester has Molly's tarot cards now this will not end well

Gonna end the year on a brawler episode and I approve

Yasha: "I feel like maybe Beau would want a champion, maybe we do this for her..." Aw Yasha...

Fjord being such a nerd xD

Widogast's vault of amber huh

So he's hiding his books in amber now?

CALEB

WHERE THE FUCK

ARE YOU GOING

COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW

Christ

CALEB. WIDOGAST. Please don't. Please go back to the inn. Please don't go to the front door. Please don't knock.

You fuck your straight up lied when your friends offered to go with you you told them you weren't going to LIAR

god why didn't they insight check him

God what if she hurts him

What if she doesn't touch him but she SAYS things that hurt him

Goddddd

Ugh I love how Liam drops the accent to indicate he's talking in Zemnian now

The tattoos are important. They tie into whatever Trent was doing to them.

C: "I find myself wanting to... apologize. Still. So much of me feels like I... I failed. But... a lot has changed. And I know some things now that I didn't as a boy and... I'm so glad to see you."

A: "I'm glad to see you too, Bren. I mean it's been well over a decade but, we still often... talked about you, wondered where you were, if you were okay."

Okay so Caleb lashed out "that spark seen in you can cause a spark everywhere else" and then she touches some scars oh no he burned her

I don't want to trust him...

Wait, had to subdue him first what does that mean? That sounds suspect.

"You've defied all of our expectations.... if you feel like you failed then, know that everyone's path moves at different paces. You've certainly proved now that you are in no way a failure."

So.... does she know

Like she seems to understand and accept that she does bad things, but she also seems to believe it's out of duty...

Hm. I don't want to like her. I don't trust her.

"The return of the lost pup" I don't like the way she phrased that

This isn't going how I expected at all. I expected that she would be a lot more obviously bad (or good, I guess).

Like I mean she is the obvious choice for Trent to use to try and snare him again

And now Caleb's telling her that Trent is a liar, let's see her reaction

"Bren... I'm so sorry" and she touches him fuck

She seems... genuinely sorry for his pain and suffering, but she's hard about it in the sense that she just thinks it was something that had to happen

"To be gifted in a world full of hardships like this is to sometimes have to do things we're not proud of." I don't like that. We must do bad things because we're ~special. Bad.

"Other people don't have to make the choices we do because we're the chosen few who have to make the hard choices" wow yep hate that

She's totally brainwashed Caleb babe

At least she doesn't seem mindlessly devoted to Trent...

Does she seem to be repeating his name a LOT

Okay so that wasn't as bad as it could have been but I still hate it

Does Jester seem... kinda lonely and desperate for attention?

lol oh Fjord xD

J: "you're doing it with a weapon, right?"

F: "do you think that's important...?"

J: "..........yeah."

Jester is apologizing a lot suddenly and I'm concerned

Okay so at this rate we'll be starting 2020 with a brawl

Oh my god it's someone who fought with them

OH IT'S DARROW

I LIKED HIM

I don't remember his sounding like this lol

Oh this is gonna be so good

Nott

Please don't go where I think you might be going

Nott Nott Nott Nott Nott

PLEASE don't be going where I think you're going

Here I am on 1/9 finishing the episode because for some reason I didn't use the 2 week break to do that

lol Beau fighting some old man

M: "I'm just gonna kinda go pop-pop"

S: "that's funny because that's what his grandkids call him."

Matt: "go pop-pop!"

"He had gingivitis"

"He has pockets full of werthers candy"

"He's resistance to very good scotch"

that fight against the old man was painful xD

Okay Fjord vs Darrow, aaaand for some reason Fjord is going bare-knuckle

HOLY SHIT ALL THAT DAMAGE IN ONE BLOW?!

Paladin or whatever the fuck he is is the way to go wtf!!!

Darrow is a sweetheart and he felt so bad for beating Fjord up that he healed him I love him

Jester: "I missed it", she says, after telling advice to him in the middle of the fight xD

Oh Yasha... honey...

Is Yasha talking to her opponent or herself? Because I know this is punishment.

I want Caleb to be the one that first really recognizes what she's doing to herself here

Everyone's like "fuck how to we address this obvious trauma and self-punishment"

C: "I get it"

Ouch okay I wanted it but it hurt when I got it

"I'm ROBBIN THE HAT STORE"

Sam was just WAITING to drop that xD

Phew, finished 40 minutes before the first episode of the new year.

I hope they get to address Yasha's issues a bit more in the future, and by the future I mean soon.

On to episode 90!

[desperatelyreviewingdennis]

Joker (2019)

This movie was phenomenal.

I honestly wasn't sure what to expect. I was interested almost entirely due to Joaquin Phoenix's involvement, but even then I wasn't expecting much from Todd Phillips of all people. Don't get me wrong, Old School is one of my favorite movies. But it's not exactly an encouraging pedigree when you're considering a dark, gritty thriller.

But the hype got to me. Good job, Warner Brothers; your manufactured incel shooters controversy won you at least one ticket sale. I hope you're proud of yourself.

So I went to watch it opening night so that I could view it untainted by whatever reviews I stumble upon before it's eventual digital release. There's going to be people that say it's terrible and other people that shout it's praises, all for political reasons, and I didn't want to slog through them. My opinions are easily malleable I'm not proud of it but here we are.

And I'm glad I did. Todd Phillips, you are officially forgiven for Road Trip.

There's not much to be said that doesn't drift into spoilers. The acting is amazing by everybody involved. The score is great, the pacing pretty good. Pick a metric and they probably get a good score.

Gun to my head, my biggest complaint would be that there's no central conflict driving the plot. It's just a story about a guy. Stuff happens to him, he happens to stuff, it's fascinating. I'm in no way demeaning the script. It's just not my cup of tea, I like there to be a clear goal the characters are working towards. It can be separate from the actual story, but I still like it to be there. To pull from the TPCU (Todd Phillips Cinematic Universe), in Old School the story was definitely about Luke Wilson character's growth, but it was in the framework of the "three dudes trying to keep the local college from stealing their house" plot.

But that's 100% a me thing. I was still competely engrossed in what was going on, and honestly the movie probably would have suffered from having such a conflict. Sometimes that's the way it goes, which is why such stories exist in the first place.

And it's funny because I remember watching movies in the past and thinking "this movie would be so much better if they hadn't tacked that completely unnecessary conflict on at the end" but I guess now I'm just some basic bitch that needs to have his stories spoon fed to him.

With that out of the way, let's get into a more detailed discussion.

First of all, this isn't a comic book movie. Let's get that out of the way real quick. It would take maybe fifteen seconds to rewrite the script into an entirely original IP with no relation to any DC properties, and it would still work. Honestly you could even keep the name, but you'd probably be better off renaming it Jester or something just to be safe. IP law is fucking crazy.

And I don't mean that in the sense of "just call Batman Nite Owl and we won't have to pay realities." I mean it would still succeed as a standalone movie, people would just think it was about some psycho in 1970s Chicago. No big deal.

BUT

Being a Joker movie still manages to improve the experience.

Part of the Joker's mystique is that he doesn't have an origin story. They've told one a couple times in the past, but it's assumed that none of them are real. The Joker is the definition of an unreliable narrator. They play with this in The Dark Knight, where he tells at least two conflicting stories for how he got his scars.

And they play with it here, too, in two different ways.

The first is pretty superficial. His literally doesn't know his own past, and only comes to realize this as the movie progresses. At first he thinks his father just abandoned them, then he learns that his father is Thomas Wayne (yes, this would make him Batman's brother), then he learns that not only is he not Thomas Wayne's son (sorry to get your hopes up Bruce) but he was adopted so he never even knew his biological mother. Oh also his adopted mother was horribly abusive and probably the cause of his "condition."

But on a slightly deeper level, we learn even the events we're shown weren't reliable. At first it's obvious day dreams: he imagines himself a guest on his mother's favorite late night talk show and giving a stand up routine at a comedy club. But both are while he's in the audience and we're shown him snapping back to reality. But later we witness an entire relationship bloom between him and a neighbor, and only find out well after the fact that none of it actually happened. So even as we're watching the Joker's origin story it's getting retconned in real time.

That realization about the fake relationship shakes the entire movie to it's core. The story is told entirely from Arthur's point of view, there is only one scene without him present. If he can insert a girlfriend into his story, what else did he add?

My guess? Basically everything.

There is one scene you can take at face value. Him talking to, and presumably killing, the therapist at the end. He's Kaiser Soze-ing her.

Starting at him shooting Robert De Niro, he’s suddenly in a cop car.  No real idea how he got there, did he surrender or was there a fight or what?  Then miraculously he’s broken free, and everybody present knows who he is and idolizes him.  How convenient.  But then the very next scene is him with the therapist, so he’s been captured again.  Again, how? 

But he’s been a central figure in the uprising the entire time.  He triggered the damn thing.  As his own mental state deteriorates throughout the movie, the state of the city also deteriorates.  So that’s probably fake as well.

Also consider that there’s only one scene in the entire movie that Arthur isn’t present for.  The murder of the Waynes.  And oh, he was responsible for that as well.

Doesn’t that all just make more sense if its stuff he’s making up?  Presumably there’s some element of truth to it.  There probably were riots, they were probably triggered by three white guys getting shot on the subway, the talk show host was probably killed.  Arthur might even have killed him, it was recorded live so kinda hard to fake that one.  But the connecting pieces -- his mother, his relationship to Thomas Wayne, the subway murders -- were just him having a laugh at the expense of the therapist who probably thought she was getting somewhere with him.

I know I’m probably overanalyzing it.  I’m making excuses for what’s maybe not great writing by inventing a meta narrative that explains away any inconsistency.  But I really really like this version of the script, 

[stagekiller]

@fearlessisabella

    White dust shines in round mirror lights, an intense yellow glow gracing the otherwise dimly lit dressing room. An array of make-up products - having suffered use & abuse at multiple hands, judging from the dirty lids and murky colors - lays before the jester. One freckled hand supports his weight against the counter as he leans closer to the mirror - small speckles of powder foundation staining the glass & his reflection. Its twin is busy patting the cracks of his face with translucent powder - as if makeup will do anything to cover up his disfigurement. At this point it is doubtful whether Jerome is applying it because he truly feels a need to do so or because it looks funny.

“ Hm? ”   Growl comes in response to Isabella’s question, barely audible over the song blasted from downstairs - where the real party is at. The dressing room walls, albeit decent, are still too thin to protect their ears from the loud bass - sometimes it nearly makes the room’s furniture vibrate. Jerome continues to powder his face as light brows furrow slightly. Nonchalant response comes in a hoarse voice as he inspects his reflection.  “ Where did that come from, huh? ”

     At first it seems that Jerome might choose to shrug off the question, his fingers busy pushing a few stray auburn strands away from his forehead. Such fixation on his appearance isn’t unlike him, but a hint of thoughtfulness taints his expression. When he finally speaks again, a green gaze finds the girl’s reflection on big glass. “ He’s a rich brat that gets on my nerves. ” Small shrug, a pout. The words are delivered in a very matter-of-fact fashion. “ He’s annoying. Irritating. Sticks his nose where it ain’t his business. ” Lips pucker at that and he nods in agreement with his own words. He withdraws his gaze as his hands fumble around for a golden tube laced with a red ribbon. “ He’s a morally fixated buzzkill. ” Amusement becomes evident in his tone. “ He’s got pretty eyes. ” A small playful smirk crosses his features.

     Tube is popped open, carefully rotated until red lipstick crawls out of its tip, its glossy surface glistening in the room’s light. Swollen lips part ever so slightly as the tip approaches, surgical precision coming in stark contrast with the surface it’s applied to. But just as a light stroke brushes over his bottom lip, Jerome suddenly pauses, rolls his eyes around to the corner of his vision field and tilts his head to the side; a flare.

“ ‘Sides am I really the one you should be asking that to, my dear fellow carrot top ? ” His face scrunches in a comical expression, as if he’s sincerely wondering himself. “ Why don’t ‘cha ask Captain Gordon ? ” Brow quirks and Jerome prepares to return to his lipstick, before suddenly stopping again, glancing to the ceiling with feigned bemusement. “ Hm. Makes a guy wonder; would he choose Wayne over a bunch’a dirt poor bastards from the Narrows ? ” Despite the light-hearted tone, there was something ominous about his musing.