#because that panel of chapel is pretty fucked

[anxiety-elemental-kay]

Slowly making my way through volume 10 (I'M NOT READY NOOOOO) and I have two quick things from chapter 3.

This Vash panel after telling Melanie and the kids to run inside is SO CUTE. Look at him. "Oh yeah the feathers. Yeah. Uh. It's cool I'm Nick's friend."

(especially after his powers manifesting against his will and shown to be horrifying until now, it's fun to see them in a cute panel. more thoughts on this later.)

And finally:

DING DONG THE BITCH IS DEAD

[witchofthesouls]

I have the image of the Fusion cannon wedding of Tarn and the Nurse witnessed by not just the DJD but Decepticon HC, Soundwave with Cassettes, the Comand Trine, Deadlock, Deathsarus, etc. Tarn's high enough ranked the rest on the Nemisis are coming in for it. During the lead up to the ceremony while Tarn and the nurse are painting each other up it's super akward and high tension.

And the only ones oblivious are Deathsarus and Skywarp who risking life and limb to fuss over the newsparks. Tense Posturing and veiled threats broken by Deathsarus' "Who's a pretty bitty? Who's a pretty bitty? You're a pretty bitty. Yes, you are." And Skywarp's "Awww look little guy has his pede in his mouth! Come on Soundwave you gota catch this for posterity!"

:: You think they're clanging right now? ::

Helex spoke in the shared internal channel as the Justice Division, missing their leader, stood at attention at the Altar. Tarn had disappeared behind the side door to the private room.

Helex wisely left Tarn out of this conversation, and Kaon didn't loop their Commander into it.

As in, the private room with no windows and a closed ventilation system because more than one Conjux-to-be attempted one last-ditch futile run before getting dragged to the terribly named Love Chapel.

Vos responded, and the many layered tones flood the channel in an easy flow of lyrical noise. Almost a million years, and it was still hard to identify certain glyphs, but the lecherous tones were unmistakable.

:: Don't be crude. :: Kaon cut into it, and Vos twitched, his side spasmed from the subtle release of an electrical surge.

Of course, ever the sadomasochist, Vos purred, and deliberately opened seams for the attack to flood his protoform.

Nickel smacked knee guards. :: Knock it off, you lot! The big boss is watching. ::

True enough, Megatron, along with Soundwave, was watching their byplay, but it wasn't Lord Megatron of the Decepticons. With the bright fuscia facial markings carving down his cheeks and neck and helmet done away, a relic of a sword on his hip, a scroll in one hand, and a chisel in the other along with those panels furled toward the sun. Megatron stood dressed in the greatest of authorities bestowed outside of a championed Prime: High Priest of the Fallen, Speaker of the Shadow, the Voice of Megstronus Prime, the Prime of Chaos; He who was the spark-twin to Prima's Light, and bonded to Solus' Creation.

Lord Megatron was the only one who could be adorned in the sacred trinity of Rule and Bindings. Not even Optimus, the current Prime, was allowed to utilize this particular trio. The honor solely belonged to Chaos' Chosen.

Suddenly, the main doors were kicked in by a purple and black pede, thruster-heel guttering-

:: Which one of you stripped-geared slaggers locked the fucking door!? :: Kaon shrieked as the Justice Division inwardly grimaced as negatives flooded the comm channel.

Unlike Light and His cloistered, shiny temples, the Shadow was in one and all for everything fell in His Domain from the highest peaks of the Manganese Mountains to the depths of the Rust Sea to the churning slag of Cybertron's forge-core; all lingered in the Great Shadow.

Megatronus claimed Solus in the open. Unrepentant and unshamed to bind them together, and His followers were the same. It didn't matter the location nor the mechs' statuses, His High Priests officiated conjugal bindings the same, standing as a divine witness to the bonding and divine judge to any Challenges at the site.

"I told you it was true!" Skywarp howled with delight as the Command Trine made their way to the steps down to the loosely packed gravel, an ode to their deities' far more wilder natures when the Thirteen walked the still new planet and shaped Cybertron for their mortal kin and kith to survive and thrive.

Thundercracker quirked an optic-ridge at the newest 'lucky groom,' and Starscream gave the thoughts life as the Air Commander said, "I still can't believe it's Tarn out of you sorry lot."

"Starscream," came the warning from the High Priest over the ominous noise of a burbling sink and clacking blades.

Starscream frowned, lips pulling a near-sneer, but he acquiesced to the rebuke. It was one thing for the SIC to argue with Decepticon Warlord, but it was another matter when High Priest Megatron was steeped in Rule and Bindings upon the Altar.

:: He may be a near treacherous glitch, but Screamer's right. I thought we would stand here for Helex or Vos. :: Tesarus commented.

The gunformer shrugged. They all knew his violent delights. Helex, however, scoffed. :: I make sure my baffles are up-to-date, and just because I have an in-built smelting pool that doesn't mean I fuck with my chassis wide open! ::

Nickel audibly snorted, a strange mix of contempt and amusement, as she pinched a wire behind Helex's kneecap. The mech grunted as that leg went numb. :: I'm the one that hounded each of you to get updated. Made sure it's substantially far more capable at handling the completed charge of a combiner orgy. I don't want to vacuum out another spark chamber any time soon. ::

The medic's words sank into the Justice Division about the ridiculously high spark compatability between Tarn and you. The surprise shocked Tesarus into speaking, "Are you saying that those-"

The door the side room opened, and no one expected the soon-to-be-bonded couple to walk out of it with fresh Energon dripping upon them. Tarn had artful, whorls of blue flames, whereas you carried jagged, pink angles and peaks.

"Bitties!" Skywarp immediately teleported to get close to the cradle-pod of sleepy and well-feed meeps and squeaks to properly coo at them.

You immediately pulled the bitties to the side, those doorwings flicked back, hitched up, and you looked like you were about to fist-fight the Seeker right then and there. Bets were being made on the outcome before Tarn, ever the spoiler, intervened by his sheer bulk. He deftly slid between you and Skywarp, who still held his hand out as if to tickle the soft protoform-like armor of the newsparks from the short distance.

You hissed, something guttural and sharp that clawed nails across their senses, your armature clacking in warning, but Skywarp switched his focus. Optics brightening, wingspan perked, and Tarn stilled-

Skywarp was then hauled away by Thundercracker grabbing a wing, sinking talons into it to puncture the metal.

Thundercracker's expression was cold, projecting apologies-rebuke as he forcibly dragged Skywarp back to position.

You elbowed Tarn's side, whispering something, and the mech uncharacteristically huffed. He placed a hand at your lower back and guided you to High Priest Megatron with the cradle-pod floating its way to Kaon's side. The Pet poked its head into it, indulgent in its allowance for repeated ear-yanking and nose-bopping.

:: The Pet is to bite anyone that attempts unauthorized touching. :: Tarn's cultured voice spoke in the channel. :: Consider any approach to them outside of Justice Division as a breech of conduct to maim, not Listed. ::

Skywarp seemed jittery, bleeding as Thundercracker refused to let go. Starscream was indifferent. Only there as it was a commissioned officer of a special tasks force under Megatron's direct purview.

Starscream and his trine, along with Soundwave with a freshly-welded Ravage, were the only ones available to witness the event as the Decepticon Armada was constantly in motion to ensure the Autobots wouldn't have an ensured victory with the entire structure of High Command in the same ship.

Unlike before, your deep bow, kneeling before Megatron, didn't phase anyone as the High Priest must engrave the intendeds' frames: a blend of their glyphs or a matched pattern in the open and made by a specialized chisel only known to their order to ensure it rejected fillings and disrupted repair nanites.

The question about an eventual divorce and the betting ring went up in flames by your insistence at having it carved at the support arches of your sensory panels...

And Tarn didn't deny you.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Headcanons surrounding the abbey, the siblings, and the ghouls. Let's go.

-The abbey is a mix of new and old architecture, with an emphasis on cohesively blending the newer wings with the older parts of the building, at least from an aesthetic standpoint.

However, there are some parts of the abbey that have been intentionally cut off by modern additions, in other words; There are parts of the abbey that are visible form the outside, but completely inaccessible from within.

These parts of the abbey are either structurally unsound, thus dangerous for anyone to venture into, or have been sealed for reasons unknown.

As a result of this decision to conceal rather than demolish these areas, the abbey has a very mazelike layout akin to the Winchester Mansion, and new and old siblings of sin are often seen consulting maps to find their way around.

-The basement where the ghouls reside/where their dorms are housed is NOT the abbey's "real" basement; The abbey's actual basement, where the electrical panels and pipes feed down to, is only accessible through two points on the property.

The first entrance is located through a door labeled, "Custodial Services Only", and is pretty obvious, given that the door itself is painted bright red and has a keypad beside it, whereas the other one is located... somewhere.

Yeah, no one actually knows where the second entrance is, but it's somewhere outside.

The ghouls also have another way of getting into the actual basement, but that's because ghouls really love to dig.

-Speaking of weird shit underground, if it wasn't bad enough that the abbey is a maze, there's plenty of places where one could accidentally wind up in the catacombs, because, yeah, not only do they have two basements, they have a tunnel of bones, too!

Mountain says it used to be used for burials back in the olden days, but that it eventually took on a more sinister history that he prefers not to delve into.

Dew sometimes hangs out down there with "the nuns", and he won't elaborate more on what he means by that, and everyone is lowkey a little concerned.

-On the topic of the nuns though... Yeah, there's a bunch of dead nuns floating around the place, which may or may not be the reason why the library is so fucking haunting, but we digress.

Many of the siblings report seeing apparitions of nuns -not sisters of sin in their habits, straight up nuns- traveling through some of the more secluded hallways, and on occasion one of the old chapels seems to be filled with the sounds of prayers spoken in Latin despite the room itself being condemned and empty.

This is another place where Dew can be found from time to time, seemingly having conversations with the air.

-The infirmary is one of the newer additions to the abbey, as the older wing dedicated to medical services was bricked shut during renovations decades ago and has been left to rot ever since.

There's a challenge among the medical staff, ghouls included, in which they have to travel from the infirmary to the old wing, touch the wall where the door used to be, and come back, and there are marks from where they've placed their hands there.

Aether undertook this mission solo after his retirement, needing to feel some kind of connection to the abbey and leave his mark, and truth be told he's never quite been the same since.

According to him, once you see the wall, it's impossible not to feel different.

"You'll always know someone is looking out for you... whether you like it or not."

And lastly;

-There's a rumor among the siblings that there's a secret cemetery in the woods surrounding the abbey, but no one has been able to find it... at least no one who's lived to tell the tale.

Many more scientifically minded folks think these individuals may have fell victim to sinkholes or one of the edgeless, cavernous wells -such as Ol' Dens' Pond- that have cropped up over the years, but no one can say for certain.

In a way, perhaps, it is a self made graveyard, born of aimless wandering and a lack of caution.

Though the worn crosses turned to naught moss covered stones beg to differ.

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 7, episode 7: wolfwood

this is another episode i've watched multiple times, but mostly just the first half for Livio Reasons. once again... LET'S GOOOOO

i've seen ppl say this is razlo at the start of the episode... i wonder... he is more razlo-like in his movements, and he starts yelling a lot... but his expressions are still livio-like, i think... i mean he is more expressive BUT he's not grinning like razlo usually does? sigh... see the problem is that we ALSO have a level of EoM brainwashing (and whatever the fuck else is going on) on top of everything which throws a wrench in trying to figure things out. I Just Wanna See My Boy.

i love vash holding his gun backwards and using it as a bludgeon and i love going frame by frame to get cool screencaps like this 💖

wolfwood vial count: 4

at the very least, by the time of this next scene, it's definitely livio and not razlo because he's mumbling about "catching up" again which is a livio thing

when i saw the corresponding manga panel for this my brain neurons activated so hard LOL i wonder even more how orange will adapt razlo... since originally livio was trying to catch up with razlo. which i love and think is super interesting. so what is orange planning? ...is livio even aware razlo exists at this point...?

oh also livio looks a bit older here. which once again has me wondering about the timeline. the way the experiments were presented with rollo and nicholas, it looked like they were just on that table forever. as in there were no breaks in between. so... when is this? how long is it between livio volunteering himself for EoM and the experiments on him taking place?

i think it's cute that nico bumps into him :(

let's take ibuprofen together

i wonder who these people are... i thought they might be the EoM soldiers that razlo killed, but those aren't EoM uniforms... it looks like the prison uniform wolfwood was wearing... wolfwood tried to run away, so it makes sense that he wouldn't be the only one, although the phrasing "stand in our way" more implies they tried to stop the operation altogether. but... hmm... they just had regular goons as guards at the time of wolfwood's escape attempt. livio is special... would they really give him a job like guard duty?

CHAPEL JUMPSCARE

razlo sweetiepie there you are!!! mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah

HE'S SUCH A FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN HE'S SO FUNNY

since zazie is the one talking, our attention is drawn to them, so i'm glad i paused on this because the fact that legato is also looking up at wolfwood and smirking is so funny to me. EYES ON THE ROAD BESTIE!!!!

this line is always so funny to me. shonen protagonist ass

i love the scene of vash at the spaceship controls, the animation when he's working the keyboard is so smooth. hmmm, it also reminds me of wolfwood's introduction episode in 98... serves the same narrative purpose of Vash Knowing Things He Shouldn't about spaceships

i love that wolfwood thinks shooting the base of the cannon will do anything. like that's the first thing he tries. shoot first ask questions later i guess

going frame by frame on scenes of legato because i'm unwell... his eyebrows are surprisingly thick! and his eye color is grey... it was gold in 98... oh, i just noticed his eyelashes are light blue!! cute!!

i just think this is a handsome angle for him. his facial features are so pretty and delicate

this is why he buckled his seatbelt :)

... i need to stop posting legato pictures

no because what the hell is this

wolfwood vial count: 5

episode 5 had me asking about the wind... legato asks zazie if they were the one who caused the sandstorm (which they deny)... could it be... is it possible...?

my dumb ass watching this for the first time: damn it's so sad that livio is dead and now they're even gonna use his corpse for nefarious purposes :(

vash's plant markings are so pretty fr <3 orange was big brained for this too

everyone always points out the episode title card being a gut punch but THIS was an unexpected one:

this is how wolfwood is credited this episode and because i'm insane i immediately had to go back and check - this is also how he's credited in episodes 5 and 6: as "nicholas d. wolfwood/nicholas the punisher". in episode 4, he's only listed as "nicholas d. wolfwood". haha ouch!

this post ended up being a little less substantial than expected LOL but we'll soon be getting into the episodes that really give me psychic damage so :^) looking forward to it!!

[kindaoptimisticsquirrel]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol8 Part2

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1 Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1 Vol02 Part 2 |

Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 |

Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1 | Vol08 Part2

Oh hell yeah we'll get to one of my favourite spreads of the whole series in this Part.

I will also not excuse any swearing that I'm doing while writing this review.

Now I don't think I got this on my first read through, but the sound here ("Gakin") sounds very much like no bullet was loaded? Sooo I guess Wolfwood very cleverly anticipated this move by Legato so we have him double-tricking him! Good boy! (I haven't read all bookclub posts to vol8 yet, if smb else already said this, whoops)

He's free...but instant knock-out. Ouch.

"Oh no fucker, I WON'T have you staring at my bf's ass." (loosely interpreted Wolfwood's thoughts)

If he missed, does this mean Legato changed the trajectory of the bullets with his powers? Sounds like a wild thing to do (but I'm not sure if it's a wild thing for HIM or completely within his normal powers?)

THIS shit was not part of the plan.

Reclaimed his ass (good for him)

This panel of Livio shooting behin him and saying "Amen"? It's pretty fucking cool.

Much less cool is that he's shooting Wolfwood.

And now Chapel literally casting judgement upon Wolfwood from above. God has this boy not suffered enough?

It's started, guys. The inner thoughs of Wolfwood...You know when I started reading Trigun, I had just watched ep4 or 5 of Trigun and I thought Wolfwood was "just" another cool character, but basically a sidekick to the main character Vash. Then I binged the manga in 3 days and saw that, although none of the other characters like Meryl and Milly are any less fleshed out or any less important, next to Vash he's probably the only one about whom we get so so much wonderful insight. So much deep character feelings, so much thoughts...and I'm so so in love with his inner monologues. They hurt to read but they show he's not just the cool priest with the machine gun, but he's hurting, he's self doubting, he's vulnerable and afraid at times and he has wishes too...

And when he's sitting there, riddled with bullets, it's the thought of Livio and how he still has to save him, that manages to get him to keep going.

They were friends, brothers! Memories of happier times...

Which fucker shot my Wolfwood.

Gnaring, biting, chomping on wood.

It's coming it's coming

SJAKD fskfa Vash literally answering his prayer. Cradling Wolfwood in his wings gently!! And protecting him from the bullets. And also being turned to him with his body, partly shielding Wolfwood with himself, too. This whole page. is so...romantic. And that feels almost like it doesn't even describe it accurately. This is most definitely the part where I really started to ship them, but then, is it romantic or platonic? It doesn't really matter because as much as you want to or NOT want to interpret into their relationship at this point, to me it's clear that there's some kind of love here that's based on their mutual understanding, trust, and how they both have supported each other until this point.

sjkADfaf *sighs*

Big fan of this Vash drawing with this pose here.

Reading this for the thousandth time and falling only deeper into the Vashwood hole.

Knives your vulnerability is showing again.

Cheeky bastard! (I say with love)

The right page is absolutely beautiful. And I love how the panel on the left pages insinuates how they are bumping againest the ship on their way through very comedy-style.

Next chapter! Chapter 5:

I'm cherishing every panel where we see them close and caring about each other. Imagining Vash gently leaning Wolfwood against the rock after catching them both from the fall (did they land on his feathers or did they fly to the earth? I'd have loved to know how they did it)

Love that panel at the bottom of Wolfwood! And, Vash with his hair down (and cloak off) like this looks soo young! More like Wolfwood's age instead of 150 haha

Baby Wolfwood Baby Wolfwood

The situation is turned into a funny one on the next page, but these pleas, they are very much real and urgent and from the bottom of Wolfwood's heart...and he rarely ever begs or asks for anything.

Marlon!! So so happy to get some characters back that we know, and he's a very lovable character!! And, of course, Meryl <3

Knowing that his friends are there to back him up, even from afar, he looks more sure of himself. Because you're not alone!

And THEN you had to go and ruin the atmosphere, Wolfwood. Because you just WALKED AWAY you big idiot

Anybody else got reminded of the Cowboy Bebop ending notes?

And that's all of the Vol8 recap I'm gonna do. There's one more chapter but I don't really feel like doing that, others have already discussed it anyway, so that's it for me! Now I can really dig into vol9 this week, oh lord I can't wait.

[wersoverytired]

Watching the Supernatural finale hours after almost dying is, well. Different.

I cannot stress this enough: MAJOR triggers for frank discussion of a recent suicide attempt (no, not because SPN ended). Steer clear if this might hit too close to home. I'm no longer at risk, this happened a while ago and is over, and my care manager is aware.

Right, and spoilers for the series finale.

_____ _____ _____

I'm old enough to have been a fan of SPN since 2005. And considering the fact that childhood abuse had me suicidal at around age 12, probably earlier, it's safe to say that I have never watched the show without that constant battle going on in the background, unrelated.

When Dean said he was tired, that he was done, I got it. When Sam asked in that abandoned chapel what the upside was to him being alive, or when he confided in his brother in a hotel hallway that he had always felt unclean somehow, I could relate. There was more to the show than that, of course -- the love, the loyalty, the humor -- but the struggle was another point of connection.

As both the show and I grew long in the tooth, and my life circumstances were progressive getting worse (as they sometimes do when you carry untreated trauma), I used SPN and the fandom as a comfort. And increasingly, living to see how the Winchester story ends became one of those grappling hooks you latch on to when you look for reasons to keep going just a little longer.

Naturally, that didn't (and couldn't) arm me against the waves of acute, hope-obliterating, soul-sucking despair that can routinely crash on your head when you're dealing with poverty, chronic physical illness and disability -- and in a harsh country, too -- as well as being severely post traumatic and dissociative. Saving me was never the show's job, nor should it have been. I used it as much as I could, though.

The more I felt like I had to die, the more I tried. Dying hardly ever comes naturally, not even when you feel like there's no other way. Painfully isolated and increasingly bedridden, I watched convention panels and smiled so hard my face hurt. Other times I cried. And I made online friends, often through the fandom, who made life less empty. Who loved and laughed and cried with me from afar. It's hard to overstate the effect that can have when you're trapped in a body that's pretty much your cage, with a mind that's wounded and struggling.

I kept fighting. But I also kept finding myself, over and over again, faced with the reality that most people who are deeply traumatized, certainly those who are also severely dissociative, get to know early on: the world excels at letting many of us know that there's no place for us. Fighting hard to survive with about 10% of what I need to live, I sometimes find it hard not to listen to that toxic message that many survivors and disabled folks hear and feel coming at them over and over: you're too broken to justify the cost and effort of keeping you alive.

It's been an especially hard couple of years in that sense. And as the finale was months, then weeks, then days away, I kept telling myself to wait. Wait for that. Decide later. "Deciding later" is a survival technique I've been using for decades now whenever I get actively suicidal. It's not a bad one.

So that very last Thursday evening (or very late night, where I live) came around. And it so happens that I was at the very end of my rope. Again, for unrelated reasons to the show ending, obviously. And I couldn't go on.

The finale was hours away, and off I went on that same journey. Wait. Wait just long enough to see how it ends. It's been 15 years. You've survived so far, and that bit of closure, at least, is within reach. Just fucking wait to watch that last episode; see how they go before you do. Let that be the one last kind thing you do for yourself.

I kept telling myself that even as I numbly went through my final checklist.

I know it hurts so much. I know this damn body is tortured beyond what you can stand, I know we've been told it's about to get even worse. And hours more of this seem like an eternity. Watching anything seems impossible. I know the PTSD is intolerable, I know you can't sleep, you live in constant fear and rage and exhaustion; I know you're alone in this.

I know you live in a place that has made its peace with people like you dying of Covid, and finds it a small price to pay for refusing to wear masks. I know how that makes you feel, to be told that your life is worth that little because you're disabled. I know 9 months of what amounts to house arrest, while living alone, have made everything so much worse. I know you just want to go.

But wait to watch how it ends. And decide later. You can go later. You can.

And I almost made it. I mean, I'm obviously still here, so I eventually survived. But I tried not to. I couldn't wait.

Sometimes, when you get to the lowest low point, when you are in all-encompassing agony, when your circumstances leave no room for hope even though you desperately want to live -- and I do, I so want to live -- no show, no fandom, no unfinished story can keep you from taking that step over the edge. Many times it can, but there are places where nothing has any meaning. Thursday night became one of those. Watching the finale was a faded notion in the background of all that agony, and then it was nothing at all.

I only managed to write one goodbye letter. Hard to be as organized as you imagined you would be, hard not to leave unforgivable loose ends. I have no memory of what the letter said, and I can't look at it, not yet. It's tucked away now, just out of view.

And then I went about doing the only thing that I felt could be done.

I didn't get to go away. Both because I couldn't stand the torment of the only method I had handy, though I sure gave it my best efforts -- two more minutes would have sealed the deal -- and because I was fucking afraid to die. All the way through, until I gave up and stopped what I was doing.

Fear of dying when you're your own executioner is an odd thing. Your body wants out of this plan you've made for you both. It responds like you'd expect when someone's life in under threat. It makes you have to run to the bathroom over and over, it makes your heart hammer in your chest and your ears ring.

There was no crying. Not at that point. I don't think there was crying when I gave up and accepted that I was staying alive, either. But I can't remember.

I don't know what I did during the few hours after that. The physical consequences of what I did were gone within half an hour or so -- being so ill, I knew not to try something that would land me in the ER during COVID, should I not complete the plan. I'd also be on my own there, and most likely dissociated to such a degree that I wouldn't be able to move or speak. That's not something I ever wanted to experience again, and a fucking horrible starting point if I survived.

Anyway, I was okay physically soon enough, which is not how it usually goes. I just remember being fuzzy and distant and alone. There was no one to call, and I also thought about how it would feel to get a call like that. I considered a crisis hotline, but didn't have the energy to explain my messy, complicated circumstances. I probably just lay there.

A few hours later, I was present enough to watch the finale. Still don't know how. Dissociation has it occasional advantages, one of which is being disconnected from certain things when it's all too much. And so I watched the final episode in bed, with the aftermath of that suicide attempt still all around me.

I watched Dean die the way he did. I watched Sam die. I watched them both being given the pained, tearful reassurance that it was okay to go. Watched them being held, watched those two strong, kindhearted, emotional, loyal men crying as they breathed their last. Dean's death, especially, broke my heart. He so clearly did not want to die. Was afraid, more than ever before.

I did cry then. I sobbed. I could cry for them. Hell, I could cry for that dog, wandering with Sam through the empty halls of the bunker. I cried as that dog looked up, with all that trust and love, at the only human he had left. I cried for Sam, sitting drained and aching in the dark library. Saying "I know, me too" on the unmade bed in Dean's cold, empty room.

Before that, back in the barn, I watched Dean not want to go. Sam begging him not to go, then forcing himself to tell his older brother what he needed, what he begged to hear. That he wasn't abandoning the one person he had spent his life looking out for. That Sam would survive him going, now that he had to go.

I never saved the world, and there's nothing heroic about me. But so much of what went on around those characters' deaths echoed what I had felt hours earlier, what I still was feeling. It gave me a safe way to cry for that, too.

I will always be grateful to the show for that small mercy. And grateful to Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, whom I've never met and never will, and have given such phenomenal performances here that they reached through all that distance, to unknowingly touch an ache that I could not cry for. They'll never know that. I imagine there are so many people like me who feel the same gratefulness, too, for their own similar moments of human connection.

The show is over now, and I try not to be sad about that, and I'm sure I will be. It would be sadder if I didn't feel a loss. Meanwhile, life doesn't stall just because you tried to stop your own. It's around two weeks later now, bright and loud outside my window in a world that's not safe for me to go out in, and I am lying in bed in a half-lit room trying to manage my pain. I didn't die. I'm still here.

I can't pretend I'm glad that I am, but I also know that I'm not ready to go yet. I'm just not. I have no good reason for that; sometimes you're just too afraid to die. And so I can't see myself trying to go away again any time soon. My health might take care of that for me anyway, but otherwise, looks like I'm stuck on this ride.

I'm very grateful that I've had SPN and its people for so long through this battle, to give me and the rest of the fandom so much more than meets the eye. And I'm grateful for that last, good cry, too.

Well, not the last cry, for sure. There's always rewatch #475783. 

[vkelleyart]

For Carry On Countdown: Day 9 - Sunset/Sunrise

I’m going to level with you guys. This all started with just the bottom panel. Then I got inspired to do a short strip based on the idea for a post-canon scene in which Simon wakes Baz up in the morning. Then, on impulse, I drew the ring on Simon’s hand. 

Which spawned an entire one-shot fanfic that I wrote in the middle of the night on Saturday. (Good grief, what is WRONG with me.) So... a strip-with-a-fic. 

The art is above, of course, but if you want to know how that ring got on Simon’s finger, read on. :)

Title: Beginnings

Word Count: 3815

Rating: Teen+

I pull the car over. Suddenly, I feel dizzy. Like I can’t take in a full breath of air.

Simon turns to look at me. “Baz, what’s wrong?”

“Marry me.” I say it quietly.

He squints at me, incredulous. “What?”

BAZ

“I’m not sure I understand you, Father,” I interject. “What exactly do you find objectionable about Simon Snow?”

My father is standing at the bookshelf of our family library in the exact spot Penelope Bunce and I had once stood five years ago, consulting one another over the known and unknown details surrounding my mother’s murder. Today, I am across the room, sitting on the sofa where Simon emphatically declared no one was “seducing a vampire” within 24 hours of seducing me.

My, how times do change. 

My father, on the other hand, manages to stay exactly the same.

I know the answer to my question already, but I want to force Father to stare his own bigotry in the face. His problem isn’t that I’m queer; he’s known about that long enough to have made a stink by now. I can’t imagine that the Old Families care much about that anyway.

What bothers him about my relationship with Simon is Simon himself. Nameless, Normal Simon who was raised in homes and groomed for battle against the Old Families. Giving up his only credit to a world that never quite accepted him--his magic--only stained Snow��s reputation further in the eyes of the Grimms.

My father is too sharp to be cornered by my question. Like me. 

“You’re not giving this the consideration it deserves, Basilton.”

“I beg to differ,” I protest. “You made certain I thought of nothing else for nearly a decade and a half.”

Father shakes his head, ignoring me. “The Families follow our lead,” he states in his best paternal-sounding voice. “The world of mages takes its cues from us, and with that influence comes an obligation to maintain a degree of… magical integrity.”

Magical integrity? 

So Bunce is right about my family after all. Bigoted purists.

He goes on, and rage surges up my throat like bile with every word. “I won’t be around forever, Basil, and your mother doesn’t have the expertise to do what I do. Maintaining the operation of our estate is no small burden. It demands an even hand, a focused approach... and a respect for the reputation bound to our name.”

Our reputation. It always seems to come back to this. Though I’m so furious I could set the room ablaze, my voice remains passive as I say the words I know will cut through all this bullshit like a knife.

“I love Simon Snow, Father.”

His stone expression cracks. (Good.) 

Something about saying these words out loud to my father feels like a dam is breaking. Like stepping into the light. So I keep going. “When I think of my future, he’s in it. He is it. Whatever plans you’ve assigned me, Simon’s partnership will be part of them, and if that’s a problem, I might advise you to rethink my role in the future of the estate altogether.”

His eyes narrow as he sits across from me, lips curling in a scowl. The cool veil over his face is gone.

“He’s a Normal. He’s not a part of our world anymore - he hasn’t been for five years - and you haven’t come to terms with it yet. When it comes to ‘the future of the estate’ as you put it, I think you know that there are certain expectations that must be met, and they do not include diluting our influence by associating with the likes of Snow.”

I can’t stop my face from contorting in disgust at his words, but I refuse to raise my voice. “I do know. I’m 23 and I’m prepared to meet my obligations, but they don’t include sacrificing my one prospect for happiness just because the Old Families think Simon is beneath them. He lost - no - sacrificed his magic to save the world of mages,” I say, my voice losing some of its steadiness. “That they haven’t fallen down on their knees to thank him is a despicable show of their arrogance. If being with Simon diminishes our family’s influence, well, frankly…” 

I lean back and cross my arms. 

“I don’t give a fuck.”

My father sets his jaw. He knows who my every reference to the Old Families is really talking about, and he’s ready to deliver his kill shot.

Well, that’s just fine. I’m ready, too.

“Basilton, I will not stand by while the heir to the House of Pitch throws away generations of effort building our standing in the magical world. This name for which you have so little regard is what has made your life possible,” he snaps, rising to his feet so he can talk down to me like I’m a teenager again. Like I’m still the lynchpin in the master plan to take down the Mage and I’d better not fuck it up for everyone.

“If you choose to remain with Snow, you forfeit your name. Your influence. Your inheritance. Everything.”

For a moment, I stare at him. There it is. His ultimate threat. He disapproves of Simon so much, he’d toss me out of the Pitch line of succession altogether, and I’m surprised to realize that I’m not shocked by how far he is willing to go to exert his control over me. I’m far more astonished by the ferocity of his blind hate. 

I pause to think.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Father,” I say at last, casually standing and straightening my suit jacket. “If that is the case, then the House of Pitch has no heir.”

They are the last words I say to him before I stride out the front door of Pitch Manor, carrying nothing but a box of my mother’s photos, jewelry, and books in my arms, my spare violin case slung over my shoulder. I can hear Daphne shouting at my father to stop me from leaving, and while the sound makes everything inside my ribs constrict, my legs keep walking.

My other belongings, the clothes, the furniture - my bloody inheritance - they can keep all of it. If denouncing everything they’ve given me is what it takes for me to earn a sliver of happiness in this world, I’ll do it with a fucking smile on my face.

Simon is waiting for me at the car, and he’s looking at me, eyes wide in a mixture of confusion and worry.  

It’s all right, love, I think. I have everything I need.

I have you.

*****

Earlier, Simon and I had gone up to my room to inspect how my family had kept up the place since the magic returned to Hampshire. I’m the only one who never moved back to Pitch Manor; by then, Bunce had gotten engaged and ventured to America to marry Micah, so I took over her part of the lease and moved in with Simon. Scanning my old bedroom, I appeared my things remained exactly as I’d left them. Meticulously organized. Spotless.

Less like home, and more like a hotel room.

Father had called me to visit because he had “something of critical importance to discuss.” I agreed on the prerequisite that I would take Simon with me and pilfer some of my mother’s things. No one would miss them. I’m the only one who thinks about her anymore, it seems.

I’m the only one who thinks about anything. I can’t help it. Being a vampire, it’s a necessity to think and plan and carry out my daily life with scalpel-like precision lest I accidentally find myself in a compromised position with a mouth full of fangs. 

Not like Simon. As I poured over boxes in my closet, I glanced over at him as he idly ran a hand over the carved bed frame where he sat beside me and first asked to be my “terrible boyfriend” - only a day after he first kissed me and only two days after he insisted I creeped him out. 

That about-face happened so fast, I’m shocked we both didn’t get whiplash.

But that’s just Snow. Heart over head. Always.

I envy him. I’m so... cerebral compared to Simon. When your senses are constantly bombarded with the sights and smells of a blood meal, even when you’re used to it, you still need your wits about you to stave off the impulse to sink your fangs into some poor unsuspecting creature and drain them dry. (Though I’d light myself with a match before I’d ever hurt him, sometimes, that creature is Simon himself.) 

Simon, on the other hand, is all intuition. He practically stumbles into brilliance because he goes with the flow and feels his steps before he thinks them through. It’s insufferable how easy he makes it look. Granted, he thinks about things a lot more now than he did before that fated night in the white chapel five years ago, but in general, he’s still unencumbered by the small anxieties and questions that plague me about pretty much everything.

Routines help. So does planning ahead.

I’m still plotting, even when I have no one to plot against.

All this mental exertion ever seems to do is delay the inevitable. The first time Simon and I made love happened two years after we’d started dating. I’d say it was because Simon was still working through trauma after losing his magic and watching the Mage die or that we were simply waiting it out because we weren’t ready - which was true for a while, I guess. But it’s more accurate to say it was my fault, and mine alone. Given the depth of my affection for Snow, it felt absurd to wait that long.

He wanted it. I wanted it. (So badly.) It came up during kisses and naps and homework and dinners, and it very nearly happened several times before I inevitably derailed us, using my “condition” as a scapegoat. But the truth was that I was terrified to traverse a line into the ultimate unknown. I tortured myself with questions. What if everything I’d waited so long for was going to change? What if my emotional failings are laid bare and he realizes I’m not worthy of the devastating sacrifices he’d made to be with me?

(Not to mention, his wings and tail practically sent me into a fucking panic attack every time I tried to factor them into the logistics.)

But when it did finally happen, it was because Snow told me to shut up and trust him and, for once, I listened. My freckled fallen angel - who will still eat butter out of the dish when he thinks I’m not looking, loves sour cherry scones with his tea, and constructs his sentences like he’s part Numpty when I fluster him - took me into his arms one night, and, in the middle of a kiss, whispered into my mouth to stop thinking.

So I did.

(Granted, he was also undressing me in torturously slow motion. The state I was in, he could have asked me to walk blindfolded into a blazing inferno and I would have agreed.)

As it turns out, I’d worked myself up for nothing. Making love to Simon felt like discovering I could breathe underwater. Like unlocking a superpower I’d always had, the way it felt when Simon first shared his magic with me, only this time, the universe was in my own pocket to give to Snow. 

I look back on it now and then, and I think, even after giving it all up to the Humdrum, Simon Snow is still made of magic.

*****

We are exiting Hampshire when I catch Simon looking out the window, his eyebrows forming a straight line over his eyes.

“Should I call someone for help, Snow? You look so lost in thought, you’re going to need a map to find your way back out,” I quip, but my attempt at levity falls flat now that Simon knows the details of my meeting with Father.

“I don’t want to come between you and your family, Baz.”

“Crowley, why do you care? These are the same people who spent the whole of our time together at Watford commanding me to plot your demise,” I say.

He shrugs. “They’re still your family.”

“Well, I’m not the one who needs reminding,” I mutter petulantly, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn even whiter. “All of this rubbish because they don’t want me to smear the family name. You’re the greatest mage who’s ever lived and it’s still not good enough for one Malcolm Grimm-Pitch.”

“Baz, you’re speeding.”

“Shit. Yes. I know.”

I ease my foot off the accelerator as Simon takes my hand off the wheel and presses it. “He’ll come around.”

“He won’t. He’s too much like me.”

“That’s precisely why he will. He loves you.”

I scoff. “One would think.” 

Tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes, but letting them fall feels like giving in, and I don’t want to give my father the satisfaction of hurting me, even if there’s no way for him to know. 

“Fuck, Snow, I don’t need his approval. I don’t want it even if he had it to give me. What has being a Pitch ever done for me but complicate my life and put me in the crosshairs of power hungry ingrates and monsters?”

“You don’t mean that,” he says.

“I do,” I snap back. “Anyway, I still have Fiona. I still have friends. I have you. Father has always treated me more like a political pawn than a son. I’ve fared well enough without my mother. I don’t need a father.”

Simon squeezes my hand before he lets go and returns his gaze to the scenery passing by the window. “I think you’d feel differently if you’d grown up without one.”

He’s right, but I don’t say it. He already knows.

I look at Simon, then. He’s older now, but there are traces left of the boy he was when we shared a room in Mummer’s House. It’s still there: the face I fell in love with when I was twelve and too young to realize I was already done for when it came to ever loving anyone else. He still has a mop of bronze curls I get to touch now, and those are still his eyes--ordinary but for the extraordinary way they look at me. 

My Simon Snow. Brave, blundering, and chosen by something to turn my villainous life upside down and make a hero out of me. The kind of man who would be mistreated and rejected by an ignorant, snobby prat like my father and still find it in his heart--and mine--to forgive him.

Merlin, I love him. I love him so much, I ache thinking about it. If I’m only half dead, the part that’s living is alive because of him.

I pull the car over. Suddenly, I feel dizzy. Like I can’t take in a full breath of air.

Simon turns to look at me. “Baz, what’s wrong?”

“Marry me.” I say it quietly.

He squints at me, incredulous. “What?”

“Marry me. Today. I’m done waiting,” I insist. “I’m tired of thinking everything has to be just right and storybook perfect if I’m going promise you everything I am and will ever be. I’m not holding out for my family’s approval anymore. Everyone who counts loves you already. Let’s just go.”

“But-”

“We could go to town to the register’s office. Bunce is in town with Micah visiting her mum at Watford - she can bloody officiate for all I care.”

“You want to elope? Baz, do you hear yourself?”

“I admit this is one of the more half-baked schemes I’ve ever come up with. And I know everything’s shit and I’m a walking disaster and you could do far better than an arsehole vampire with an arsehole father who doesn’t accept you--and I know I’m not stopping time or whatever the bloody hell Bunce did for Micah--but none of it matters because I just want you with me always, on paper, signed, witnessed, and fucking notarized, and anything that delays it isn’t worth the trouble,” I ramble, stopping only for breath before I continue pouring my heart out over my steering wheel. 

I swallow hard, and my voice softens to a whisper. “I want to spend every day forward endeavoring to deserve you. I don’t care if I’m never welcome at Pitch Manor for the rest of my cursed, immortal life as long as I get to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of yours.”

His mouth keeps opening and closing, like he can’t comprehend what I’m suggesting. So I keep going because there’s no taking back what I’ve just done, and I can’t seem to stop the torrent of words falling out of my mouth. I don’t want to. 

I take Simon’s hands.

“Crowley, I love you. You only need to look at me to make me feel like I’m back in Watford being set ablaze with your magic for the first time. You kiss me and it’s like the universe is expanding in all directions inside my chest. You make me feel alive, Simon. All I ever want to do is make you happy and protect you and yes, take the mickey out of you, and I feel... I feel like this is the one thing I can’t overthink. And in my defense, I’ve had all the time in the world to contemplate this considering I’ve been obsessed with you since the day we met.”

I’m starting to tremble, so I grip Simon’s hands tighter until he’s wincing and staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. But his hands are warm and I’m losing my nerve, and he still hasn’t answered.

“There’s no one else I will ever feel this way about. If we wait for my family to accept you, we’ll be waiting forever, and now that I know there’s nothing to wait for, I just want us to belong to each other already so I don’t have to bloody think about it anymore, and Simon Snow.... do you want to marry me?”

There. I’ve done it. I’ve finally gotten my head out of the way and let my heart lead for once. Simon is slack-jawed and staring unblinkingly at me. I wonder if he’s breathing. I know I’m not.  

I’m not sure he understood me.

Or maybe he did, and this is just what rejection looks like.

Oh, Merlin...

Simon’s breath comes out in a ragged gust as he pulls me into a crushing embrace. His face is pressed into my neck, and I feel his voice resonate through me as he speaks the two words I’ll remember for the rest of my days.

“I do.”

*****

The sun will be rising soon. I haven’t slept, and soon enough I’ll lose the chance to do so. I’ve been married to Simon for ten hours and it seems like such a waste to miss out on it by sleeping.

Yesterday afternoon, Bunce and Micah met Simon and me at a local register office in London after that disastrous morning spent in Hampshire. I thought Bunce might balk at the rashness of my proposal, but I rather think she relished seeing me plan something that didn’t necessitate the use of a whiteboard for once. “You smitten, sentimental berk,” she said, smiling at me as she handed Simon her father’s ring - a temporary one since we needed a ring in a pinch and Simon insists on picking one out for me himself.

I only ever had one ring in mind. I gave Simon my mother’s ring and spelled it to fit him. (“Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger.” It’s a complicated spell, and one I’d practiced and perfected in private knowing how and when I’d use it.) She was the one who had brought us together, after all.

It was only the four of us at the register office, so we agreed to make a decent celebration of our marriage eventually and invite our friends and loved ones once we had time to plan something properly. Bunce immediately volunteered herself. (“I’ll eat pixie dust before I let you plan a wedding party without my help.”)

She cried during the vows. I very nearly did myself. They were simple - a script read to us by the deputy registrar for us to repeat back - but any mage in the room could feel the magic dripping from those words. I think even Snow himself felt it.

And thus, Simon Snow married me. Afterward, we all went back to our flat in Sutton with an enormous order of biryani and samosas to go with the champagne Micah and Bunce had brought to celebrate, and we toasted the future. I waited for them to leave before pulling SImon into my arms to dance with me. He dances so poorly, he nearly twisted my ankle.

I didn’t care.

I felt light. Free. Simon may have the wings, but last night... I was flying.

*****

SIMON

The last 24 hours happened so quickly, I feel like I’ve imagined them.

I got married yesterday. To Baz.

And somehow, like waking from a dream, we’re back in our flat and I’m up with the sun, watching him sleep like I always do. On the surface, the only thing that seems to have changed is that we’re both wearing rings now. And yet, I feel different. Everything is different. New.

I think I understand now what Baz meant when he said my instant change of heart during our last year at Watford left him both disoriented and elated at the same time.

It’s bittersweet for him, I know. Baz believes he’s orphaned now. There’s also that.

He’s not.

His dad will come around. The ones who love us almost always do. Not even Baz and I could hold our grudge, and we were meant to kill each other. But, Merlin, if that’s what it took for Baz to make a husband of me sooner than later, I’m grateful that his father is, for the moment, such a colossal fucking knob.

The sun is rising, casting long shadows in the room, and the glow off the horizon makes Baz’s skin shine gold. He looks so peaceful this way - with strands of his black hair falling into his face and one hand draped over his pillow beside his cheek, his chest rising and falling with every long breath. He often has his heart in a vice over something or other, even when he’s playing insufferably cool, calm, and collected all the livelong day. I’ve learned to read the signs that tell me Baz’s mind is in overdrive. Seems like his thoughts are always churning.

Not so just now, though. I can’t help myself; my fingers reach out to gently brush away the strands of hair on his face, and he stirs. 

Baz sighs deeply and opens one eye in my direction. He grins, and the sight overwhelms me. He’s in my arms, right where I want him, and he always will be.  He’s looking at me like I’m his, and that’s because I am. (Legally.) I always thought I’d be the one to propose first, but I might have guessed Baz would beat me to the punch, the competitive git. I’m fine with that. 

We’ve got the rest of our lives to take turns leading.

So many of the important things we say to each other anymore are said without words, so I don’t need to say anything for Baz to reach for me. He pulls me down to kiss him, and as our lips meet, I get a fleeting glimpse at the future we’ve just embarked on together. Hundreds of moments yet to be shared rush through my mind and my breath is catching because I feel it all at once...

Joy. Sorrow. Pleasure. Pain. Ecstasy. Hope.  

Love.

And then I stop thinking.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “The Work Wife” Part 3

You’ve been working for The Joker for the past 10 years: you speak and act for him and no matter the circumstances, Y/N is always there to take care of everything he needs.  The King of Gotham might not be married, yet he has a perfect partner: his work wife.

Part 1      Part 2     (Part 3 as voted HERE)    Part 4     Part 5

5 months later

“Are you just gonna sit there the whole time?” The Joker splashes the water in the Jacuzzi while you look outside, not even hearing his words. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“Oh, I’m watching everything to make sure it’s safe,” you finally pay attention and analyze the surrounding buildings from behind the smoky windows belonging to the second floor of “Serenity Day SPA”; it’s one of the businesses J owns, primarily operated for money laundering.  The rooms upstairs are never used by anybody else except him: he seldom visits and actually uses the amenities since the place is very luxurious.  

“We have 15 men with us, I think we’re OK. Come on, lose the suit and relax,” The King of Gotham requests your presence in the hot tub because you seem absent minded today.

“I’m good,” you mumble and continue to search for any signs of suspicious activity out there even if so far nothing seems out of the ordinary.

“You know how much I hate to extend my invitations twice,” he watches you take a deep breath and gaze his way.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you come up with the easy excuse and J gestures towards the variety of dressers containing bathing suits, swimming shorts, towels and fuzzy robes.

“Use theirs!”

“Ughh,” the exasperation reaches his ears and it’s not approved.

“Maybe one of these days you could just, you know, drop the attitude?! Only a mere suggestion; don’t lemme stop you from annoying me!” The Joker growls as you choose a random attire and start changing behind the panel as fast as you can, hoping he will shut up.

“Don’t lemme stop you from annoying me” speech is usually between 10--15 minutes long and you are certainly lacking any eagerness to put up with it.

“Why do I have to get in there?” you protest his orders and emerge into a floral bikini bottom with the matching bra.

“Because,” J huffs and completely lowers himself in the bubbly water for a few seconds, then gazes your way. “I must say Y/N, you look decent for a fossil.”

“I’m not a fossil!”

“You turned 36 last month. Basically ancient for my scaling system,” J taunts and smooths his wet hair, thinking that the usual extra feistiness is not present within his work wife today. You step in the Jacuzzi, half afloat until you reach his side.

“Your scaling system sucks, that’s why you don’t have a steady girlfriend,” you lift one of your eyebrows in order to underline the accurate reality.

“I only need company that takes care of my needs for the night; you take care of the rest so I’m fine,” he pauses and waits for the sour remarks to continue but they don’t.

You’re awfully quiet, definitely preoccupied by more important matters than the usual dispute he’s searching for.

“What’s the matter?” J elbows a distracted Y/N.

“Today…” and your voice cracks,” today is Kai’s birthday.”

That’s why she’s like this, he thinks and moves closer to you.

“Wow, the first snowflakes,” you sadly smile and change the subject because you feel you’re suffocating.

“Yeah, I like winter,” he adds on the topic in his usual way of dealing with things. “Much easier to get rid of dead bodies.”

“So charming,” you candidly reprimand. “That’s why women are flocking from all sides; one better than the other.”

“Precisely,” the insolent Joker is glad you’re getting absorbed into his little game; it kind of feels a major part of his daily life is missing if you two don’t clash and he’s aware he has to put in extra work today in order to obtain the desired outcome.

“Please enlighten me so I can prove a point:  when is the last time you went on a date?” you turn towards him, interested in what he has to say.

“Ummm… three nights ago,” J immediately replies.

“One night stand is not a date! As usually, I had to get rid of her in the morning and I’m getting tired of taking out the trash,” you scoff, irritated. “You should have kept the girlfriend you had two years ago; she wasn’t bad.”

“I got bored,” he dismisses your suggestion and stretches his legs under water while you have more to include on top of the earlier statement:

“It’s exciting to see you’re satisfied with bimbos that think you have a stamp collection to show them at the penthouse or drunken ones that you marry on a whim at the sham drive-thru chapels around town.”

“Yes, it is exciting indeed,” The Joker winks and Y/N is done with his crap.

“You know what J ?!!”

Oh boy, here she goes! J grins because he’s getting what he wanted:

“You know what J ”speech is usually between 8--14 minutes long and by far his favorite; you usually blur out a list of judgments about his behavior that you don’t agree with and it falls on deaf ears, yet it’s worth it.

“Mister J,” Frost suddenly knocks at the opened door. “Sorry to interrupt but the weather forecast is showing an imminent snow storm about to hit Gotham in less than 3 hours. Traffic will be hectic since everyone would want to finish what they have to do before roads are closed. Would you like to leave now in order to avoid that?”

The Clown Prince of Crime smacks his lips, debating:

“I suppose so,” then addresses you: “Hold that thought, Y/N! You know how much I love to hear your opinions,” the sarcastic smirk makes you shake your head in annoyance. “I guess is better if we bail than having to deal with the craziness on the streets. Tell the crew we’re out of here in 10!”

“Yes sir!”  Frost complies and you discern the shouted instructions on his way downstairs.

“Right when I was getting comfortable,” J sighs and sinks under the fizzy water one last time while you’re already getting out of the Jacuzzi.

“You can continue at the Penthouse,” you remind the King of Gotham he actually has the same hot tub at home.

“I guess I can,” the grouchy voice mumbles.

The Joker watches as you dry yourself with a towel, his eyes lingering on the only tattoo you have: the Japanese kanji rows inked on your back containing the phrase you’ve been using for years as an inside joke.

He stalls leaving the steamy ambience for a few more seconds before finally abandoning his temporary oasis.

You switch back to your black suit behind the bamboo panel and come out to help him finish up. The white, furry winter coat is placed on his shoulders while J elects to modify the plan:

“Y/N, I want to spend some time at my cabin instead of returning to the Penthouse.”

“Are you sure?” you start walking beside him, surprised at his choice. “With the snow storm you’ll be trapped there for days.”

“It’s fine; I’ll have you to keep me company,” J brushes off any projects you might have like he always does.

“I rather stay at my apartment.”

“No, you’re coming.”

“Seriously J, I don’t want to be dragged in the middle of nowhere. I like that place in the summer and that’s pretty much it,” you try to make him forsake his ideas and pay attention to the stairs you’re both descending.

“I’ll let you know when I give a damn,” The Joker scoffs, signaling some of the men waiting along for his passing to follow.

The door leading towards the secluded parking lot on the north side of the building is already opened and you walk outside, mad he doesn’t care you’re not in the mood to visit that accursed cottage during the crazy weather that will soon hit the area.

Two henchmen are already waiting by their cars and you slowly blink for a few seconds, feeling the snowflakes melting on your face. The faint sound of the bullet shrieks by your ear and you instinctively turn towards J, his eyes already looking down at the fresh wound that’s beginning to stain the white coat.

“What the..?!” he touches the blood in disbelief, suddenly out of breath. You are quick to push him against the nearest SUV, screaming at the others:

“Sniper!!! Get down!”

The goons already outside scatter behind the cars in the parking lot and you help The Joker sit on the ground and press on the oozing injury, the red spot exponentially growing each time he forcefully inhales.

“Shit…” he moans and you gesture at the men that didn’t make it out of the building, including Frost.

“Stay inside! There’s a sniper!!”

“What do we do?” Jonny yells and you shout back:

“Everybody regroup inside!! Stay low and sneak out through the other side of the property! Go in groups of 3 and sweep the surrounding places, maybe we can catch whoever did this! Take the rest of the team and call for reinforcements!”

“You need help?” Frost peeks from behind the curtains, ready to aid if required.

“I’m OK, I don’t need an escort!”

You open the car door and help The Joker crawl in the back seat; he’s wheezing louder and louder due to the painful lesion.

“Keep pressure on it!” you gather his coat around the wound as much as you can, this way it soaks up the blood. “I’ll take you to the doctor; just hang in there, alright?” an apparent composed Y/N creeps on the driver’s side, twisting the keys in the contact.

“It fucking hurts,” J groans and his acknowledgment makes your heart beat faster:

The Joker has a high tolerance for pain so if he says that it hurts, it means the discomfort is beyond what a normal person would be able to tolerate.  

“Hang tight!” you begin to drive, keeping close to the concrete wall enclosing the parking lot, watching him through the rear view mirror. “I’ll take the back streets,” you mumble and immediately accelerate, taking a sharp turn once the protection of the wall is over. The tires screech under the abrupt impact and you speed towards Madison Avenue, having to distance yourselves from the shooting range as soon as possible.

“How are you doing?” you gaze at him and the only answer is a growl.

The Joker’s teeth are clenched together; he couldn’t say a word even if he’d wanted to.      

You nervously squeeze the steering wheel, paying attention to the road again.  

“I think I can make it there under 40 minutes,” the affirmation makes him shiver: the pain is becoming so unbearable he feels he’s going to pass out.

Another turn on Coldwell Boulevard and the last thing J hears prior to losing consciousness is Y/N’s warning:

“Hey, don’t fall asleep!”

**************

The Joker gradually opens his eyes, trying to adjust to reality. You’re sleeping in the recliner close to his bed and the venue seems familiar: it’s the same private clinic you were taken after the unfortunate events that left such a deep scar on your cheek. He’s groggy and a bit confused, a typical secondary side effect of all the medications present in his body.

“Nurse…” J whispers and has to gather his strength to say it louder since you didn’t hear him. “Nurse! Wake up!”

This time the exhausted Y/N promptly snaps out of her troubled dreams, gasping when she realizes The King of Gotham is glaring her way.

“You’re awake,” you jump out of the recliner and move close to him, so happy to see he’s out of danger you actually smile.

A rare occurrence these days.

“Why are you wearing scrubs?” J licks his lips and you reach for the cup of iced water on the cupboard, offering some to the patient.

“We’ve been here for 2 days: it’s easier to blend in, just in case,” you explain while waiting for him to finish drinking.

“What’s the verdict?” he taps his fingers on the pillow, seeking your company for the requested briefing. You lie down next to him and relay the main points to the weakened Joker:

“By the time we arrived, you’ve already lost a lot of blood. You had a clean wound: the bullet went right through; almost pierced your kidney, only half an inch away from disaster. They couldn’t stop the bleeding and I was scared you’re not going to make it,” you gulp and touch his face, upset it was such a close call.

“Why? Were you afraid you’ll be unemployed?”

“Basically. You pay well.”

“True,” J utters. “Do we know who did it?”

You remove your hand, the immediate change in attitude making him aware you’re displeased.

“So we do know,” he figures, wondering why you look at him like that.

“Yes.”

Perfect silence; you are flustered, that’s for sure.

“Well?” J yawns, tired and drained.

“Do you remember your last flame? The one I got rid of 5 days ago?”  

No answer. Because he can kind of tell where this is heading.

“Apparently, she didn’t like that you threw her away the next morning so she did something about it. Thank God she can’t aim that well, I’m sure she tried for the head.”

J is speechless since he was expecting a different outcome.

“The Great Joker, taking down by one of his one night stands. How stupid is that?!” you hiss and try to calm down the urge to strangle him.

“That is quite stupid, my reputation would be ruined,” he tries to joke since he knows he’s going to hear about it forever. “Is it fair to assume she’s not around anymore?”

“I made sure,” you frown, scooting closer to him again. “If you were planning to sleep with her again, she’s not available.”

He grabs your waist, loving the bitter expression written all over your being.

“Any other news?” he changes the subject, delighted you’re so worked up.

You cut him some slack for the moment, sharing your observations:

“I think one of the nurses likes you. She keeps on lifting your hospital gown, checking out the area.”

“Probably to see if I need my bandages changed,” J grins, satisfied with the little confession.

“Or maybe checking out your components,” you honestly reply.

“Components!” he chuckles and regrets it the next second: the sore wound is definitely there.

The door opens and you grumble in a low voice:

“That’s her, that’s the nurse.”

“Quickly, fix my hair,” The Joker demands and you comb the green locks with the tip of your fingers. “How do I look?”

“Like crap,” you sigh, unable to repair too much due to the present misfortune.

“Dammit,” he completely covers the both of you with the sheet, shielding the intimacy of the discussion from any prying ears.

“Miss Y/N, it’s not safe to be this close to a recovering patient with a raw injury. There’s the risk of infection. Could you please go back to your recliner?” the woman requests out of concern for the medical staff’s own safety: she knows that if something happens to The Clown Prince of Crime while under their care, they will pay for the consequences.

“Make me!” you sneer from under the covers, irritated with her plea.

“Yeah, make her!” J growls also and it’s a red flag for the nurse to leave before one of you snaps. The care giver leaves some medications on the cabinet, planning to return later.

“Try not to contaminate me,” he pouts and you roll your eyes. “I already sacrificed a lady’s interest in me by siding with the competition.”

“You’re so full of it,” you kick his knee, careful not to touch the stitched laceration.

He has no clue how much it terrified you that he almost died on Kai’s birthday; it would have been unbearable to think each year at the same date about two men you care about no longer around.

*************

After 3 weeks

The Joker was released from the clinic yesterday and went straight to the cabin in the Willow Woods, hauling a vexed work wife with him against her will. You sure detest the place in the winter time; there are days it snows so much you can’t even walk to the shed to restart the generator. But he said the fresh air will make his recovery a piece of cake and for once you didn’t argue with the bullshit reason.

You are so worn out after taking care of J 24/7 that the tempest going on outside doesn’t bother you. Y/N dozed off one hour ago and the strong wind sweeping the wilderness slams branches, snow and frozen leaves against the windows.

A strand of your hair is being tugged by the crabby King of Gotham; he has insomnia and of course he sneaked into your bedroom after drinking 2 cups of chamomile tea that did absolutely nothing.

“Y/N, are you awake?”

You barely make eye contact, the brain fuzzy from all the restlessness you dealt with in the past weeks.

“My back is stiff,” The Joker indirectly implies a massage would be more than welcomed.“Did you hear me?” he pokes your shoulder when you nap again.

“Why won’t you let me rest?” you finally blur out, wishing you were at your apartment and not in the boonies at the cottage you can’t stand.

“I can’t work out for a while and my bones are cracking every move I make. Plus, I can’t sleep because your dumb tea didn’t work. Are you gonna do anything about it or not?!” he loses patience describing his hardships to the woman that should know all about them.

“Don’t nag me!” the unexpected response containing what J usually throws at you makes him search his mind for a sour admonishment.

In the meantime, you get on your knees and slap his side so he can turn face down, beginning to rub his back along the dragon tattoo since he won’t quit bugging you.

“That feels awesome,” he grunts when your hands work around the tight muscles keeping him up at this hour of the night.

“Jesus, one knot after the other!” you blur out frustrated, trying to relax the stubborn tissue under his skin.

“Told you I‘m stiff; I wasn’t lying. Keep going,” he motivates the grumpy Y/N. “Aren’t you happy that you still have a boss to take care of?”

He senses your fingers stopping, then restarting and something that sounds like sniffling.

“Are you crying?” the muffled question arises from under the pillows.

You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your fleece pajamas, watching the flames in the fireplace crackling in the darkness. The Joker reaches his left hand backwards and grabs yours, pulling you next to him again. There’s no resistance from your part and his face moves on top of the cushions again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” you bite your cheek and refuse to say more on the topic.

You don’t really have to though; The Clown Prince of Crime is neither stupid or blind.

“I’m still here old girl,” he emphasizes due to his twisted desire to get you out of your misery while still being a jerk.

“I’m not old,” you defend your 36 years of existence like you always do.

“According to my standards you are,” the silver teeth maliciously glisten 2 inches away from Y/N’s lips.

“Your standards are pure crap,” you sulk and he wraps your arms around his neck, compromising at last:

“Probably…” and your sudden kiss takes him by surprise and in the same time it doesn’t.

That’s new, The Joker thinks and enjoys the opportunity of making out with the feisty Y/N that clings to him so tight he cannot move.

“I think I’m still out of commission,” he purrs in between kisses and you couldn’t care less.

“That’s fine,” you smile and give him a second to catch his breath.

“Wait…Wait…” J carefully debates. “Ummm…On the brighter side, I believe we might be in luck but you’ll have to do the hard work giving my present situation.”

“That’s fine too,” you accept his proposal and lean over to whisper:

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

**************  

7 months later

“Did you get what I asked for?” The Joker barks at the smuggler that’s taking too long searching the metal crates from the last shipment received yesterday.

“Yes, Mister Joker, just one moment. I know it’s in here, I saw it myself.”

“I don’t have a moment!” the impatient King of Gotham retaliates and the dealer picks up the pace, relieved to finally discover the item buried inside the box.

“Here you go Mister Joker,” something resembling a booklet is being handed to J.

The opulent wedding ring beaded with purple and green diamonds stands out on The Joker’s finger and the smuggler’s eyes get big.

“Oh, you got married Mister Joker?!”

“Yeah, two days ago,” he gets ready to bail since he’s late for his own honeymoon trip to Las Vegas.

“Congratulations!” the guy has nothing better to do than offer his best wishes.

“Why??” J’s mood switches for the worse. “You think I got a good bargain out of it?! I didn’t !! She’s been nagging me for 11 years; I just made it official !”

“I’m sorry Mister Joker,” another wrong reply escapes the dealer’s lips.

“Why are you sorry, hm?” the pissed Prince of Crime raises his voice. “You think I can’t handle my own wife?!”

You are waiting for J next to your car, playing with the bottom of your short summer dress. There was certainly a commotion going on until a few moments ago when the noises stopped; you’re about to check on it but J is coming out of the building, brushing pieces of glass off his clothes.

“What happened?” you inquire.

“I got you a present,” he avoids replying and gives you the booklet.

“What is this?” you open it, confused. Nothing but a bunch of stamps neatly organized inside.

“A stamp collection, Y/N! You always complained that when I brought girls at the Penthouse I said I have a stamp collection to show them when in the matter of fact I didn’t. So I fixed the issue: these are actual stamps I can show them; very valuable: I paid one hundred thousand dollars!” he boasts in front of an annoyed Mrs. Joker.

“No girls, no stamps!” you flip the expensive collection straight into the trash can near you.

“Wha’… What are you doing?!”

“No girls, no stamps!” you repeat, urging him to get in the vehicle.

“How dare you?!“ he has an outburst that you don’t pay attention to. “You’re fired!”

“No I’m not,” you calmly go around the car since you’re the designated driver for the vacation. “Come on, get in,” you reach from the driver’s side to open the other door for him. ”Traffic will be horrible across the Bridge of Angels. We have to leave,” you pat the passenger’s seat and J is hesitating. “You really don’t need that stamp collection; you have me.”

“Pfft,” he huffs and enters the car, not wanting to admit to himself that his work wife is right.

Actually work wife and wife.

No matter what anyone says, now there’s finally no difference.

Also read: MASTERLIST

AO3 account - same blog name: DiYunho

[snkpolls]

SnK S3E04 Poll Results (Manga Reader Version)

The poll closed with 407 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that this is the results of the manga reader poll. Anime only watchers are suggested not to read if you do not wish to be spoiled about certain events! Anime only viewers, click here to view your poll results!

Rate the episode

Overall, respondents gave the episode high ratings, with 90% total feeling that it was at least very good. The pollsters are very happy to see these ratings improve!

The episode felt short. I wanted more after watching it :)

The pacing of this episode was much better than the first two

We're only on episode 4 and about to enter the climax of the arc, not sure how I feel about this.

Very good. I hope that the skipped scenes appear in a later episode.

It was pretty neat. Sometimes stuff is a touch slow, but I know it’s all a lead up to what’s to come, and like, it’s important to have stuff that is slow sometimes so the big stuff feels even bigger.

This recent episode found a little boring to me. I feel like there's wasn't much action less Levi

Bruh I need the next episode like rn

Did you notice the subtle changes made to the animation in the OP this week?

Less than a quarter of respondents initially noticed that there was something different about the OP this week. However, just over half noticed them upon a second watch or seeing it pointed out by others.

I didn't notice the changes in the opening because I always skip it.

Which of the following scenes were your favorites?

Hange and Moblit taking out the MP’s won by a good margin. The runner up is Spider-Hange. Levi and Mikasa reacting to Kenny’s last name, Levi interrogating the Central MP and Jean testing Marlowe and Hitch were also very loved moments!

The moments between Jean and Marlowe is one of my favorites. That was really fantastic and Marlowe is going to be a wonderful SC member. Too bad he will die later. I was really upset about it while reading the manga. He was such promising and brave guy.

I enjoyed the moment when Erwin asked Nile about Marie. It felt like he still had some feelings to her. I wonder if they're going to go back to this topic later (in flashbacks). Probably not.

This episode was so fucking amazing after the exposition heavy episode 3! I have literally waited years to see Hange taking down that MP animated, shit, the way she just casually like ducks away from the bullet... I used to keep staring at the badassery in that manga panel and now I am watching it on repeat, Wit got that scene so perfectly right!!

My whole life has lead up to this moment with Hitch and Marlo!!! Bless WIT for doing so good by my precious MP!

It was hilarious when 3MPs ran on the ground to chase Flegel while they are equipping ODMG. It was even funnier when one of them cried for joy catching Flegel without using ODMG.

Faithful to the manga with a healthy combination of action and world-building. LOVED Flegel's "I'm the boss" scene.

Erwin’s VA was superb! I was close to tears during the scene when he and Nile were talking.

Who made the best face when ambushing the MP base?

Connie won by a landside! There was no contest here, folks. 

How bangable was Levi this episode on a scale of 1-5?

As expected, over half of respondents would love it if Levi totally wrecked them. Although there are still quite a few of you who would rather he not. 

LEVI DADDY PLEASE STEP ON ME!

Levi in the moonlight was everything I never knew I needed.

Levi cutie crazy ass bitch

Levi. Le-vi. LEVI.

On a scale of 1-5, how distressed were you to see Erwin beat up and chained?

More than half of respondents are anxious to see Commander Handsome out of chains and cleaned up! 

How Erwin can kneel before them on his own? When he knows how horrible they are that they made decisions that killed his father? How can he be like that? Oh just take my heart away already! It's not that I need it…

Also, seeing my husband all beat is tragic and seeing him hanging was far too distressing and I know what’s going to happen in this season, but I want to pretend it isn’t happening and that he might be happy when he reunites with Levi

Erwin also manages to look hot not matter how beat up he is, which isn't even fair.

I love Erwin and he deserves the world.  That is all.

Are you feeling better or worse about the season so far?

Most voters either felt great about the season from the beginning or have started to warm up to it a lot more! There is still a small percentage of those who are still unsure or unhappy, however. 

Feeling alright overall about it but disappointed about some parts being rushed/skipped

I did not like the first two episodes, but now that the pacing has slowed I’m starting to like the episodes better. Still salty about the first two though.

I knew I was going to love it just because it's AOT, but I won't know how much I love it until I've seen how they handle the RtS arc

I havent feel good, still dont feel good but its better than before, so a combo of the 2nd and 4th option

I'm loving the episodes, but I'm still unure about some of the removed scenes, specially the ones involving Historia and Levi COS i swear to dead Marco if they do not animate Levi's smile im gonna riot

I'll wait until this arc is over to cast any judgement. However, I do wish they would've expanded the Reeves' storyline. It kinda fell flat for me in the anime.

Was unsure at first with all the changes from the manga, but have come to accept that some things are gonna be different so I'm just gonna enjoy it as it is. At the end of the day, it's still Attack on Titan so I'll always enjoy it.

I’m just happy we’re getting this season at all

I never thought they could make the uprising arc funny and interesting

Instead of attacking the Centrap MP HQ, Squad Levi ambushed a small outpost on the outskirts of Trost instead. Did you like this change?

Nearly half of respondents were okay or even preferred this change. 36% are let down that there was no slicing and shooting though. Chin up guys, the cave is coming soon! 

I always thought it was a little confusing that squad Levi would go all the way out to the central base, so I think this made more sense because of how they're still on the run. The anime version feels a lot more like they could be caught at any second, which is great!

I was looking forward to the 104th's subtle distressed reactions after having done what they had to do. But I guess the anime is not for subtle.

I'm not sure if replacing the newfound edge from the SC by a lulzy moment was a right choice. I feel like we're losing the grim aspect of the SC not being good guys anymore.

I didn't even remember how the manga handled that, so I didn't notice the change.

I honestly like both situations

While i did want to see the gang cut up peoples legs,  the anime version made more sense and I'm down for any Springlestein.

While the cart charge was hilarious, I'm not sure why a small outpost would know anything about Eren and Historia's location.

I quite honestly didn't notice the difference, the real attraction was Levi fucking the old boy's shit up

While I hopedd they'd make it bigger, after watching the episode I grew to like it, it makes sense both geographically and in terms of the scale of the event.

Oh lol I totally expect them to go ahead and get the Central MP HQ next. I mean, didn't they also do that so that the MP's couldn't mobilise and come to Kenny/Rod's defense later on?

Were you expecting there to be more focus on the press?

Most respondents were expecting to get Hange’s talk with the press prior to exposing the Military Police. A few are certain it’s lost not, while a good 30% are hopeful that we’ll still get it in another way. 

By making the newspaper Trost local, their presence didn't need to be explained, and some aspects from their talk from 60 can be merged with the little moment from the Rookie from 61 after Erwin's trial so as to not be redundant.

The talk with Hange and the press will no doubt happen next episode.

Having a flashback would be good, but I don't have much faith in them doing it

Indifferent to it, doesn't make much difference to the overall plot.

we will get them though not in a flashback half the arc has been rearranged remember.

I NEED Hange brooding on a desk in the press office, it's an important part of my spiritual development

I hope we get more Peaure :(

Which scene from the PV are you most looking forward to next week?

At 41%, the largest group is most anticipating getting a flash of Frieda in the mirror. It’s about time we get to see her in anime form after all these years, right? The remaining three scenes are at an even split. 

Since we’re getting Frieda in the mirror, do you think there will be a flashback to the conversation about Eren’s experiments?

To build off of the previous question, over half of respondents are anticipating the potential for the bedside flashback to happen after all. 35% are optimistic that it will definitely happen, while 11% believe we’re getting Frieda flash in another way. 

I'm hoping the Frieda content doesn't come across as too rushed in the next few episodes. In the manga, almost a year passed between the first Frieda flashbacks and Rod's full story in the chapel underground, but it seems Frieda's anime debut will be only an episode or two before the story. Still looking forward to how it all plays out!

Where do you primarily discuss the series?

Additional thoughts on the episode?

*chanting* STICK! STICK! STICK! STICK!

the changes are fine, doesn't stray too far from the manga. Maybe also makes the anime less of a drag.

Connie had goofy hat. All my stanards has been pleased.

Finally the pacing slowed down to a human level. I'm happy to see so much of Erwin, but it still pains me how he is characterized.

HITCH WITH THE STICK HOLY HELL. Honestly that whole fight scene between Hitch, Marlowe and Jean exceeded my expectations (hopefully not sounding too much like a worshiper). I just love it (probably too much).

Hanji can punch me and I’ll thank her

I MISS EREN AND HISTORIA

I can't believe Flegel sat on the dude's face lol.

Why did Not!-Marco not look like Marco at all?

I don't have a great memory of manga events but I'm feeling shocked - as though the anime is really rushing through events, so I feel worried now!

I love it. The animation when Hanji and Moblit attacked the MP was spectacular. The animators have continuously outdone themselves this season so far.

I'm not sure about my feelings and impressions about this season so far. I got disappointed before with other mangas adaptations, and now, I don't feel like trusting WIT for the moment, until I see some logical modifications.

When it was announced that there would be changes made I was skeptical and thought that the manga was perfect the way it was. Oh boy was I wrong. While I am still angry about some scenes, others just make more sense. I think wit is doing a great job.

Only thing that makes me sad is that Armin's glorious gesumin expressions weren't animated till now.

Honestly so excited to 24 episodes this time not 12. But still proper sick episode.

I've mentioned it on Tumblr before, but while I like how things have been centralized around Trost in this version of Uprising, it does cause an issue. How did Erwin, his captors, and Nile all get from Trost to Mitras in the space of a single morning? They military police either has teleporting tech or an underground bullet train. Or Isayama really wants to replicate S7 of Game of Thrones with characters teleporting all over.

NEXT EPISODE WE’L GET OUR ACKERTALK!!!!!! Eeeeek!!!

No Kenny?! So what kind of episode was that?!

I enjoyed this chapter a lot. Can´t wait to see Eren again.

Well fuck. Manga readers, we know what happens at the reiss chapel

Thank you to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again on Monday! 

[ks-caster]

Let’s Talk About Murphy and Religious Symbols

Okay, so this post originated as a response to this post by @osleyakomwonkru​ - and then I realized I totally changed the subject from Octavia to Murphy and you might not want to have Discourse in your replies, so here it is on its own. 

To summarize: In season 7, episode 6 of The 100, John Murphy expresses to Indra that he thinks she was the real leader of Wonkru while Octavia was off “painting her face with blood.” This is rage-inducing because A) He wasn’t there and doesn’t get an opinion, B) it’s factually incorrect - for better or worse my girl Octavia was making all of the major decisions from the Dark Year onward with little to no help, and C) it seems like they just stuck that in there as a lazy writers’ handwave to get Indra to step up and take charge (rather than taking 10 minutes to think about continuity with their own canon when they were writing his lines). 

Now, I fully agree with this post that it’s probably just shitty writing - there’s been a lot of that going around this show especially in the later seasons lol. But. 

BUT.

What if it’s not?

Because now that I think about it - Murphy has a history (moreso than any other character I think) of not understanding or respecting cultural or religious symbolism. In fact, one of the reasons I like him so much is that he’s my bro when it comes to:

[Image ID: Samuel L. Jackson in the well-memed scene from Snakes on a Plane. The text has been altered to say “I have had it with these motherfucking religions on these motherfucking planets.” End ID.]

Adding a cut to save a scroll finger because this got long lol

From here on out, I’m going to be very critical of religion as a concept; in real life I think religion is pretty cool and I happen to have one of those myself, but I also recognize that religious trauma is a very real thing. 

The more I go through Murphy’s scenes in the show, the more I think that’s exactly where they’re going with him.

What do we know about John Murphy and authority, especially when it’s derived from religious beliefs?

Season 1: 

He did not grow up with theocracy as a normalized concept. The Ark had one visible religion, and it does not appear to have any significant political clout or implications. 

The Ark’s laws and power structure were based on scientific knowledge and the needs of the many. 

Side note: There’s been speculation among fandom that Murphy was locked up when he was quite young. I agree with this spec. 

However whether or not it’s true, we know that Murphy does not like authority in general, because the draconian laws on the Ark killed both of his parents.

Out of 7 council members shown on screen, we know the day jobs of 2 of them: Doctor (Abby) and former engineer (Jaha). Leaders are chosen based on necessary skills.

Season 1 occurred over a span of 29 days (source). For Murphy, 11 of those days were spent supporting Bellamy as leader - while he promoted a certain level of anarchy for the first 7, the next 4 were spent building defenses. 

Murphy has a certain amount of clout as Bellamy’s assistant, and uses it to be an asshole, like that time he peed on that kid who asked for water.

After this week and a half, Murphy is lynched by an angry mob for a murder he didn’t commit. 

On the evening of day 12 he is banished - on day 23 he returns, having been captured and tortured by the grounders (specifically Indra I think) for presumably most of that time.

To sum up: Murphy’s experience with authority in his early life is that it’s basically just something to abuse people with (his parents, him, what he did to others etc.)

Season 2:

Murphy goes on a long hike with Jaha, and has his first experience with religious zealotry. Jaha will sacrifice people for his beliefs without a second thought, and in the end all they find is a field of old solar panels. 

Murphy is then sealed in the lighthouse bunker for 86 days. (FYI, 15 days of solitary is considered torture. Source.)

Murphy’s first experience of religion is that it’s a ridiculous belief, based on almost no facts, that gives people the freedom to behave irrationally and harm others, and that not only does it turn out to lead to exactly jack shit at the end, that was enforced for him by having almost 6 times the length of time in solitary to be considered torture for him to think about what a no good very bad idea it was for him to come out here in the first place.

Prior to his journey with Jaha, Murphy’s experience of power is that it’s something people control you with using the threat of force. But now he’s been exposed to religion, which controls people through their own beliefs. When someone is trying to use force on you, you can just grab a gun and shoot them. But how do you fight against a belief?

Season 3:

Murphy is released from the lighthouse bunker after seriously considering suicide - so his mental state is not awesome right now.

Jaha is still just as into the religion concept as he was before Murphy got to spend over two months in solitary

Gideon (who is already chipped when we meet him unless I misunderstand the episode) is frankly a creepy mf. He tries to strangle Emori, who has to kill him because “there is no pain in the city of light,” meaning that nonlethal force will not save Emori’s life.

Emori’s brother Otan goes for a walk with Jaha and comes back chipped. He takes Emori hostage, and Murphy takes ALIE’s case hostage in response. Through this exchange, Otan is valuing a plastic backpack higher than his sister’s life, while Jaha is still trying to convert Murphy.

Murphy gets captured, and the grounders find the CoL chip and say it’s a sacred symbol. 

He’s taken to be tortured by Titus, who as Murphy describes it, prays to garbage.

Upon examining Titus’s beliefs, Murphy realizes that they’re tied to the thirteenth station. Once again, a religion that allows people to kill other people is based on something old and ridiculous - praying to garbage indeed.

After Lexa’s death, a bunch of literal children are supposed to fight to the death for her throne. Murphy was all set to watch some guys fight to the death over a dumb computer chip - but he looked awfully sick when he realized they were all children.

Then instead of that (which is already horrific) Ontari turns up and murders them all in their sleep - Murphy gets to see all the little chopped off heads. All of this is done in the name of the grounder religion.

In the wake of this nastiness, Murphy becomes a fake fleimkepa to save his life (Because Titus threw him to the wolves to buy time for Clarke). Ontari chains him up at night and at least once coerces him into having sex with her. 

Ironically, at least everything Ontari did was with regular old threat of force, since her power as Heda was limited - being a fake

Emori - the only person Murphy explicitly loves and trusts at this point in the show -  takes the chip, in an attempt to save him, which causes her to betray him. 

Once everything’s said and done, and he’s able to remove his hand from his dead rapist’s chest cavity, Emori has been released from the AI and has returned to him. The oppressive religion has been defeated.

The moment when Murphy gets Emori back has to be the most intense and genuine joy and relief he’s expressed on screen to date.

Season 4:

The world is ending, and the supposed adults are all completely incapable of getting along long enough to save everyone without the crutch of religion.

Roan can rule the clans (sort of) but only with the claim that he’s holding the throne for the next Heda

Nightblood could have saved everyone, but it’s genetically rare thanks to the religious tradition of rounding up each generation and culling them down to one survivor.

Clarke can’t even take over as Heda to keep everyone from killing each other because her completely usable nightblood is “fake.”

They find a bunker - which was put together by religious fanatics who had fake bunkers for the lesser believers - which is super fucked up.

Murphy and Emori were safe inside the bunker until Octavia won the conclave. 

Because she was the survivor of what’s effectively a Grounder religious ceremony, Octavia gains the power to decide that Skykru only gets 100 beds, kicking out those who were already in the bunker, safe in the beds they’d chosen. 

This may likely mean death for Murphy, and DEFINITELY means death for Emori. It’s only been 44 days since he got her back, and he’s either going to die with her, or if he’s lucky, he’ll just lose her again permanently.

Thanks to Raven, Bellamy and the rest of spacekru, they both survive. In the interim between seasons 4 and 5, Murphy lived six years with (probably) no religious influences other than maybe coming across a chapel or reference to the Ark’s cute little worship-the-bonsai-tree religion. 

Now seasons 1-4 take place over 200 days. For reference, today (June 26th, 2020) is only the 177th day into 2020. Now 2020 has been a hell of a ride, and the events of The 100 are significantly more drastic. So lots of character development, relationship changes etc. makes complete sense. 

But imagine you lived through 2020 until mid-July (ugh, I wonder what next month’s apocalypse bingo will be...) and then you spent the next 6 years fairly insulated from what happened, in a safe place with little conflict other than what you manufactured (remember, this is Murphy we’re talking about lol).

And then, come July-ish 2026, you go back home for the first time (after a little torture session with a creepy convict dude) and someone mentions biological warfare (for example) as a reasonable idea. 

Wouldn’t you be a little bit more sensitive about it than someone who didn’t live through the Coronavirus?

Season 5:

As we know from the flashbacks, Gaia reconstructed the Grounder religion into the Wonkru Cult, with Octavia as Blodreina. “The blood of our enemies is her armor.”

In other words, “Octavia painting her face with blood” was a religious symbol - and so Murphy, who has massive and obvious trauma with regards to religion, makes some mean jokes, but otherwise does not engage mentally or emotionally, or make any attempt to understand whatever the hell was/is going on down there. 

He simply does not vibe with it.

While Murphy has a rough go if it in season 5 with Eligius, the religious/culty stuff mostly leaves him alone in season 5 because he spends the majority of his time in Shallow Valley instead of with Team WTF Is Going On With Octavia. His knowledge of the Wonkru cult would be largely secondhand.

Additionally, the little 12-year-old girl who loved funny stories about him now has a killer AI stuck in her brain. I don’t remember getting to see him react to this, but by the end of the season he can’t have not known about it, at least.

The parts of season 5 where Murphy is not on the ring take place over a span of 18 days. They board the cryoship, go to sleep, and when they wake up, they’re orbiting Sanctum.

Season 6:

Hey look, the planet of the bodysnatcher religion! In other words, Murphy Trauma Central.

Murphy dies, and has a horrible hallucination of what he thinks is hell (this is never explained, actually, which irks me. I was waiting for that plotline to be resolved.)

During Murphy’s childhood, he got to watch his mother slowly turn into someone else (alcoholism, grief, then suicide). And during season 3, he gets to watch a bunch of people (particularly Emori) turn into not themselves. Also during season 3, Murphy was the chosen pawn of a powerful young woman who used him to fool people so she could have power, in conjunction with a religious tradition. 

While he may not have had a close relationship with Clarke, Josephine must have been like a nightmare to him - bodysnatcher lady who has picked him as her chosen pawn to help her fool people in conjunction with a religious tradition.

Between all of Murphy’s trauma regarding religion and his newly refurbished fear of dying, he has to make a choice whether to get in good with this religion and save his and Emori’s lives, or probably die (again) or get bodysnatched himself for all he knows. 

Frankly, that’s not a choice. Not for him, not then. He signs himself up for the creepy religion. He hopes to save Bellamy et al along the way.

Then Abby gets bodysnatched and dies. Honestly I don’t remember why he has a close relationship with Abby, but he does. It’s the last straw - he walks away from his immortality into almost certain death, but then, since Clarke and Madi defeat the Primes, and he and team sanctum defeat the adjustment protocol, he lives on* for season 7.

*Legally named Daniel Prime.

And now we’ve arrived at season 7.

Murphy has never wanted anything to do with (any) religion, and he wants even less to do with the bodysnatching creepy religion that killed Abby. Not to mention, they want him to pretend to be Emori’s brother in public. It’s a funny plot point as a watcher, but from his perspective? Dude, his relationship with her is the best thing that’s ever happened to this guy. Invalidating that is salt in an already massive wound.

So Murphy is a fake deity, a fake brother, and for the first time in his life, he’s handed a whole bunch of religious-based political power and expected to just deal with that. Surrounded by different, equally violent factions who all hate each other (and some of which want him dead) he is supposed to pretend to be in charge - but actually just do whatever Clarke et al tells him to do.

Murphy started having a very specific nightmare at the beginning of season 6 and he hasn’t woken up yet.

7x06. Nakara. I’ll admit, I drank before watching it - a thing I generally do if I suspect from the trailer that I’ll need to care about Clarke for more than 3 minutes of screentime. I’m a happy drunk, so I enjoyed the episode. But that conversation with Murphy and Indra threw me - first as you’ll see in my liveblog because since when the fuck is Indra not a leader? She was the leader of Trikru from Anya’s death until Trikru was dissolved to become part of Wonkru. WTF.

Second, him saying that clearly Indra was really in charge while Octavia was painting her face with blood.

Now, I dismissed that line on my initial watch, because it was obviously factually incorrect, and how would Murphy know anyway? But now that I think about it, I think it was desperate, wishful thinking on Murphy’s part. By now, he has to want so badly for one grown-up - any grown-up - with leadership experience and skills, to take charge, knock some sense into people, and straighten out the shit he’s fallen into. Again.

Wonkru won’t do jack shit without a religious motivation, and thanks to that, they almost blew up in a(nother) nuclear explosion, and he had to be party to the incidental murder of a guy that he honestly thought was kinda’ cool - and now cool guy’s wife will probably try to murder him thanks to the association. Again.

Murphy is desperate for some kind of normal leadership, and historically (no matter what bullshit they made her say in that episode) Indra has been a capable and sensible leader. Maybe a little violent for Murphy’s tastes, but at this point, he’ll take her. And in his eyes**, Octavia’s “cult leader phase” was frightening, ineffective and easily overridden - while Indra has always been leading people when Murphy has known her. 

**Remember, Murphy’s experience of Octavia as Blodreina was two weeks from him landing on Earth to her abdicating and bending the knee to Madi - and he didn’t get to see much of it firsthand.

Was Indra running things while Octavia was off painting her face with blood? No. Should she have been? Probably. But this is a show about teenagers so they wind up in leadership positions for plot reasons, so whatever. That’s a different meta. But as far as Murphy’s concerned, he needs it to be the truth like he needs Indra to take charge in Sanctum and get him off the altar (in more ways than one). 

I don’t like it - but I understand it. 

[iguana012]

The Lord of the Wedding Rings: The Return of the King - iguana’s 2017 HELLsinki Worlds recap

This is it guys, the last big competition before the Olympics. So much potential for great skates, great disasters and great distress; this competition did not fail to deliver. Nor did the announcers, who were screaming out names and scores as if it were a wrestling match. And it was, in one way or another. Albeit a sparklier one. For a brief couple of days, we thought Javier Fernandez was gonna win his 3rd consecutive World title and I almost had those memes ready but at the same time I knew coming from behind like a wrecking ball was Yuzuru Hanyu’s specialty. To nobody’s surprise Evgenia Medvedeva broke a record; to everyone’s surprise, she only broke it in the long program. Meanwhile, Wenjing Sui and Cong Han’s blues for koolk brought the pairs crown back to China and Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir purple rained on Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron’s parade. Let’s start the recap!

It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Technical Panel, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Nine to the Judges, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And the rest of the rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and the will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made. Deep in the land of Eden, in the Fires of Mount Timshel, the Philosopher Lord Machida forged a master ring in secret, and into this ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate Hanyu’s all life. One ring to rule them all.

But on April 1st 2017, the world had changed. Yuzuru Hanyu could feel it in the ice. The stars were veiled. Something stirred in the East of Eden. A sleepless malice. The ring was THERE.

Ok seriously now, this guy had been waiting for this gold for 3 years. The first time he got it there were HOLY SHITS and OH MY GODS and CONTROVERSIES because 2014 Worlds is still remembered as that one competition where the difference between gold and silver was 

None of that shit here. Yuzuru Hanyu’s long program performance should be framed and taken into the church. Because no one else comes close to his ability to make those quads look like spinning on a fucking chair, all the while hearing music in the background and interpreting it. He really needed this gold medal and I’m glad he got it. 

World Silver Medalist Shoma Uno has been skating to Fantasy for Violin and Orchestra (aka Ladies in Lavender) all season and that’s a song I will personally forever associate with Tatsuki Machida’s retirement (ahahahah) but that program gave Shoma a new personal best, a medal, and a 2nd place in the World standings. Not too shabby going into the Olympic season. 

Boyang Jin has successfully defended his bronze medal with two great programs. I just can’t believe it was only 2 years ago when he and Shoma were battling for the JUNIOR Worlds gold and now here they are giving some uncles a run for their money. His quad lutz is a masterpiece. It can probably belong in the Sistine Chapel. 

Javier Fernandez’ Elvis wasn’t successful enough for the long program. While he dominated the short with his Matrix Malaguena, Hanyu skating a flawless program before him proved to be too much pressure for the two-time World Champion (how the fuck). tl;dr it was a mess. Probably a ~hot~ mess for some ladies and gents. 

Patrick Chan has successfully defended his 5th place from last year but this time he got a small bronze medal and joined the 100 club in the short! He also landed a quad salchow and not so Canadian axels. His programs this season were great and his skating is great. 

Nathan Chen had boot issues huh? Well honestly, after US Nationals and 4CC I would have been very surprised to see him skate another clean competition because: it’s his first senior year, he is pressured af, he will be even more pressured going into the Olympic season but hey - at least he got a nice, cold bottle of Coca-Cola to make him feel better. 

THE LADIES

And here’s the most disastrous event of the whole shebang. Well at least it was disastrous enough for Evgenia Medvedeva to refrain herself from smiling during a 9/11 program?? I guess??

Heavy silver medal favorite Anna Pogorilaya reverted to the old Pogofalls in the long program. It was almost like she’s been under a spell since Boston and it broke near its 1 year anniversary. That was certainly not what the Russian federation wanted to see, but Maria Sotskova wasn’t much better either. All in all Ilia Averbukh proved his point; his programs can save the world and Russia’s 3 spots at the Olympics. 

Speaking of spots, the Canadian ladies managed to get 3 spots for the first time in a millennium and they did it in high fashion; both Kaetlyn Osmond and Gabby Daleman made the podium. Who would have guessed? Figure skating is full of surprises after all. And it looks to me like the judges are more ready to reward Osmond than Pogorilaya. She’s going with a good reputation in the Olympic season and she has the support she needs to follow the footsteps of Joannie Rochette. All she has to do is deliver. 

Delivering is not always the best solution for other girls though. Wakaba Higuchi was criminally underscored in the short program. And by criminally I mean she can sue those judges for boycotting Japan getting 3 spots. With a 3Lz-3T and a 3F in the second half of the program she was 9th after the short. Really bitch? Really? They suddenly decided they were gonna punish the lack of steps into the solo jump? The fuck? Mai Mihara was great but that mistake in the short program was very costly Veeery costly. And lastly Rika Hongo was very brave. She was tired, she was injured, she wasn’t supposed to be there. But she was brave and I applaud her. 

The American ladies were lucky. And they did enough to keep 3 spots. The judges also did enough there I said it. Karen Chen did great, I love her short program. 

Basically everyone got back home having fulfilled their main goal, except for Japan, who has the deepest field in the World after Russia. For the first time in over 10 years, only two ladies will represent Japan at the Olympics. Figure skating fans are speculating who JSF will favor which ladies are more likely to get it. Will Mao Asada get her triple axel back? Will Satoko Miyahara manage to get back to her top form after injury? Will Marin Honda make a splash in her first year as a senior? Will Mai Mihara continue to stay consistent? This topic probably needs a separate post of its own. 

PAIRS AND ICE DANCE

Aliona Savchenko is a badass. The height she gets on the triple twist is probably the equivalent of two, two and half quad lutzes of Boyang Jin. Also throw triple axel!! Wtf bro my ankles hurt just looking at it!!

But Wenjing Sui and Cong Han were no doubt the class of the field. Two A-M-A-Z-I-N-G programs. You can see how connected they are. Not a single movement is wasted. Truly a gift in the field and I’m so grateful Wenjing recovered so well. 

Shoutout to Xiaoyu Yu for her potato finish! She’s done so well this season considering circumstances. And she’s so beautiful to watch!

Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron had pretty uninspiring programs this season but the free dance they put together was perfection. Yeah it’s nothing we haven’t already seen but everything about that performance was top stuff. 

Scott Moir had to fuck up to showcase Tessa Virtue’s flawlessness. But their Prince SD is great stuff. So great it broke some nice records. Including most of the free dance event (seriously what the fuck was that mess).

This is probably all I have to say about Worlds? This review sucks big time but I’m so tired I feel like I've been competing myself. Well that and the fact that Japan losing one spot really put me off. And I’m constantly worried about Satoko Miyahara so my snark wasn’t as sharp as it usually is during other competitions. This one was too much of a Real Deal y’know what I mean. 

Meanwhile the GP competitions next season look something like this

10/20-22 Cup of Russia 

10/27-29 Skate Canada 

11/3-5 Cup of China 

11/10- 12 NHK Trophy 

11/17- 19 Trophee de France 

11/24- 26 Skate America 

To be more exact 

Ah it smells like Olympics already. 

Just like last season and the season before last season I’m gonna make a top 10 programs of 2016-2017 sometime soon. But first I gotta get your requests done lmao sorry for the delay /o\ 

But since it’s (almost) the end of this season I want to thank you all for following me, sending me nice messages and being interested in my childish ramblings. You’re the bestest. 

[obstructedantiquity]

💬 for twelve-year-old Riccin

RICCIN KAYATA | 5.60 sweeps / 12 years old

Her thumbs dig into the thin skin of your throat as she hauls you down to her level, and plants a kiss right on the tip of your nose. “Look at you! You’re adorkable, dude,” she jeers as she shoves you back, hard enough that you stagger. “Just like a Gerber furby!”

Sipara’s all teeth, even when she’s trying to be careful: those tusks of hers are still newslick and unfiled, but that doesn’t mean they don’t sting when they catch on your face. “Ow,” you complain, even as she chirps: “- you gray-eyed loser.”

“Empress, no wonder you always gotcher psi on!”

She takes a step back when you stalk forward, her grin wide enough to spit her face in two. You’re not sure what you’re gonna do! Smack her, like as not, because she’s bouncing back and forth like she expects you to. And it ain’t like she won’t deserve it. The dampeners are hid under your skin, where nobody can see ‘em and you oughtn’t be able to feel ‘em, but they tug at your skin every time you move, set your horns to itching when you so much as think about sparking. Not that you could!

The world looks too bright, too colourful without your psi cloudin’ it, and shit’s disastrous enough without Sipara poking fun. Or.. it should be. But Sipara never really gets you mad, not really! Anyone else, you’d swing and knock their teeth out for that, psi or no. You have: Taalik’s regretting their snide bullshit off in the infirmary.

But you don’t really want to smack Sipara, not really.

“Pretty sure I’ve, like, totes seen actual fax, little bitty, itty bitty -” She spreads out her hands a scarce inch in front of her, fingers flared like they’re grabbing something minute: “- so itty they’ve got all SIX legs on still, and they’ve still got eyes darker than yours!”

Mostly, you don’t want to smack her. But biting’s fair game.

“You have not, sister.” You rub at your throat, baring your fangs, but she just laughs, flashing hers right back. Shit’s unfair! Even unfiled, your girl has got a mouth like a fish, each row of fangs sharp enough to make her tongue bleed, add salt to her constant venom. Your snarl’s lopsided, all marred by these clownfish fangs, but she’s got a proper curl going on, threatening and pretty as fuck.

Well! She’s got edge on her side, but you’ve got size. That’s what matters more, isn’t it? The Shepherd always says your fangs are bigger than your mouth, and when ID’s patching up your marks, he’s always after you to just bite her back. “Put those big chompers to use, sweetpea,” he said the other day, when she’d left a ring of marks all the way across your hand: “- just once, and let me tell you, she won’t do this again.”

It isn’t like she isn’t biting you. It isn’t like ID doesn’t bite Raphae, for all that he plays at flush. And if you don’t want to smack her, biting her seems fair game. The thought’s sort of appealing, too. Less mean-spirited. It’s not like you have to bite her hard. Or be an ass, like her, and bite her on the hand, so she can’t practice for nights and nights.

You could just bite her right on the mouth instead.

“.. can’t believe they say -” She’s been prattling this entire time, bouncing like she’s expecting you to take a swing, and it’s just a matter of when before you move. But now she pauses, squints at you. Her nose wrinkles in a parody of yours, ‘cept it ain’t cute, it’s like she’s some kind of a daft barkbeast. Her mouth twists to the side, accusative as fuck, and you have to look away all of a sudden, just like that.

“What,” she says - no, demands, hands on her hips. “What the fuck, dude, why’re you all orange? Are you embarrassed? Like, are you really embarrassed? Dude!”

“Just ‘cause you’re a loser with gray eyes doesn’t, like, make it a bad thing, tyrian tits -”

“I’m not embarrassed, chucklehead.” There’s heat all the way up to your ears. There’s something awful about all of this, from tip to bottom, something absolutely wretched in the way the realisation is creeping through you like sunburn, devoted to roasting you from the inside out.

You want to kiss Sipara Nzinga, your best friend and your worst enemy, the only girl in the creche too stupid to earn her half-paint, the only girl crazy enough not to fucking care.

You want to kiss her, and shell punch you right in the snout if she realises.

Or worse yet - she’s gonna laugh.

“- but I need to go check my moth,” you blurt out, and you flee.

The studio isn’t empty when you fling open the doors and yowl, voice loud enough to bounce off the corners of the room: “Ico!”

“Ico! Brother!” The despair in your voice could inspire a litany. Fuck pictures: the strength of your pain could paint an entire goddamn chapel, roof and all, panels and panels just showing the depth of your inner distress. “I think -” Your voice gives a hitch. If you weren’t so fucking mad, you’d have to stop to envy it, because the little wobble it gives your words is everything. “I want to kiss her!”

His troupemates are used to you by now, though, and they’re ungrateful louts besides that. There’s scarcely a stir, for all that Abrama frowns at you: all across the floor, people keep up their activities, stretching out to touch their toes, pulling themselves into strange poses. “No shoes on the floor,” Abrama reminds you, pulling her toes to her shoulder.

Her frown just deepens when you whine.

By the time you strip off your boots nd make your way to ID, he’s pulled himself halfway up a rope. He peers at you from upside down, his hair brushing the ground, his legs wrapped tight around the coil holding him up. “Really? That’s adorable, my little dandelion. Positively precious! But if you’re asking for advice,” he says, dubious, twisting so that the rope tugs him a little higher, “the answer, I am afraid, is no!”

“Also, we’ll have to have a talk about proper boundaries, too -”

“That’s not it!” you hiss at him, ears going back and your lip going out. He never appreciates your drama. He never takes you seriously, and just to slight him, you lean in, grab hold of the rope with one hand so he can’t go twisting away. “I need - I need -”

“Speech therapy?”

“I don’t know! How do I make sure she doesn’t laugh? How do I make sure she ain’t gonna, like, freak out?” you demand, and he laughs, lets go of the rope.

He doesn’t hit the ground. His psi holds him in place, tugs him upwards, and he dangles mid-air instead, face thoughtful as a cat’s. (And still upside down, because ID’s a prat, through and through, and for all you don’t need to read his lips this close, he likes to test you all the same.)

“That’s a good question, sugargrub! Hm. Uh.. let me get a cigarette,” he offers, twitching out a hand, and his bag’s halfway across the room towards the both of you when you slap it down.

“I don’t want a face full of smoke. Brother! Come on. How’d you get Raphae not to laugh?”

“.. that. Uh.” He blinks at you. “That,” he says, careful, “is a completely different ball-game, darling! And not one relevant to you, bless your pumpbiscuit. Or, ah, well, it better not be, or.. well! It had better not be, how’s that? But. Um. Right! No. Do you want the honest truth, dearheart?”

“No,” you sniff, “I want you to fucking lie, brother.”

“Well, too bad! Ashen isn’t about getting what you want. The honest truth is.. she’s going to laugh at you.” When you squawk, he’s ready: he’s already pulling himself up and higher, horns brushing the ceiling by the time you take a swing. “Hush up! She’s going to laugh,” he tells you, brisk, “but then, darling, you little lemontart, if you don’t go trudging off to sulk under a tent, the two of you’ll have a talk, and it’ll all even out.”

“.. how do you know that?” ID is so full of hot air. Half the time, you’re not even sure why he’s your auspistice: he’s all fluff and bitterness and things he won’t ever explain, no matter how much you and Sipara nag him, but.. the other half of the time, you remember. There’s no doubt in his voice right now! Just an easy sort of confidence that rolls over you like a balm, smoothing out all of your rough edges, dampening the clawing, sickly aggravation trying to make its way out of your chest.

It’s easy to believe in that sort of voice, even if the words don’t make any sense. You’ll have a talk, he says, like Sipara’s ever talked about anything maturely in her entire goddamn life -

- but he says it so confidently.

“Magic! Advice time is over,” ID announces, reaching out and tapping your nose with a finger. “Think about it, and scat.”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Alex Laughlin: ah man! She bought a dump!!

"let me tell you something, I didn't buy anything" I whisper in his ear, "he did, he bought me one"

"Oh he bought you a dump! It sounds way less romantic when I say you bought it!"

"He bought me 5"

"What are you gonna do with 5 houses!?!?! Oh wait remember, I must, they're Dumps"

"He's also gonna buy me a multi-million dollar mansion"

"WHY? you have 5 row houses in Detroit!!"

"Because there's no elevator how am I going live in those dumps? I need a ground level dump and one dump purchase per customer, sir"

"That ain't the rule"

"Google"

"Is it really?"

"Do I look like I know? No I don't fucking know. Google."

He laughs, "sometimes I don't know why I don't hate you"

You know a man loves you when he says "baby don't look at prices, okay baby? Promise? $2M isn't too much for a house So look for more higher prices okay baby?"

Then the next day buys you a graffiti on $10k dump

I did promise and I did look at all kinds but he is cheap... He don't like to spend more than $4M in a house. His brother however will plop $10M on any random ole thing.

But the houses we both really like are only $2M... I found one for $1.2M so I'm all babe we gotta cover the pool in a glass house with stained glass pictures like the Cistine Chapel so when we are floating around we get all kinds of wow and it's so beautiful! I really don't like outdoor pools because I don't like sunburns. And I don't sunscreen

Jesse: babe you didn't tell me the Cistine Chapel

Me: well what are we gonna have? Your brother on a motorcycle?!?

Jesse other: you know his name is really Brian ... I'm Really getting a good idea. You know my pool is uncovered and Sabrina said it (his $11M mansion) is gonna be like Elvis' for Motocyles if I okay my cards right... So you know what I'm thinking

Me: you know all your names are Jesse... That'd be bad ass.

Brian: really you didn't tell me the Cistine Chapel

Me: you did the birth of Venus... That's so Beautiful. I have that in the hall bathroom

Brian: you said we can swim nude on schedule

Rock of Kidd Rock: hold on Sabrina said you all can swim nude as long as you're not together? Does it have a hot tub? If so I'm not going

Me: he lies. So no. Not in the pool house but there's supposed to be one outside the master bedroom in one house we're looking at... But Idk. We haven't decided yet fully... Why Because there is one with PALM trees.., then there was one Idk if it had a hot tub but it had this sitting section with a circular table. Babe were gonna have to get him over of those portable hot tubs that like Denise bought so we can take it apart and bleach it when he comes over

Declan: hey!!! Get I get my own hot tub in my room?

Me: put down tile.

Declan: wait.. What?

Me: you'll have to put down a tile. Like a Spanish tile.

Declan: I thought she was gonna say no

Me: you gotta do all the work yourself

Declan: drat I knew that's what she meant

Me: but there is so much room in the gardens you can find a private place and put up some pretty hippie panels

Declan: I don't like hippie I like death

Me: then you can paint them black with pagan signs with glitter and Rocky horror picture show lips and scare off the neighbors

Declan: I don't like glitter blech

Me: babe do you like glitter? They always out number me Declan and Annabelle

Brian: I love glitter especially on pagan symbols in the multi-million dollar yard I paid for.

Declan: now Who is paying for this hot tub in the yard with my personal privacy??

Me: dude Idk I'm on food stamps

Brian: we will look at them later.

Me: how big do you want it? How many people?

Declan: i just want jets for Annie's back cause she has scoliosis and i know it hurt her.

Jesse: how she get you to agree to glitter? She bat her eye lashes at you or something?

Brian: i like glitter, ass hole.

Me: you want a hippie mandela like sheet covering for the top?

Declan: no it will shred

Brian: what the Hell do you plan on doing over there?!

Declan: no i Mean get one made for outdoor and yeah i want a roof top covering

Me: okay i see ya kid. What color?

Declan: any. Red. I want red.

Brian: Idk what Declan has planned it sounds bad

Me: just be glad I kept it off the goat heads

Declan: hey!

Me: nothing. I mean yes? What?

Declan: do i need 3? Panels?

Me: i was thinking two So it blocks your kitchen view

Declan: can i get palm trees? Like 4 foot?

Me: yeah.

Declan: and how am I supposed to get in? I don't want a gate..

Me: a weighted curtain... I know you don't want it to blow

Declan: so can i get a glass door? Or i know an archway and a door. Then. Out of medieval wood. Probably some wood we get from the dump

Me: you can have it all medieval. Wood with leather straps or black metal..sounds easy then you want each panel to arch?

Declan: what about the roof? Can i get a solid one?

Me: what if we made it So you had to climb from your window to get into it?

Declan: what?! That would be so bad ass!!

Me: he wants a solid roof

Brian: yeah that's fine...

Me: I'm thinking medieval doesn't have perfect seams and leaves gaps for uneven cuts

Declan: yeah that's fine for the Sun!

Me: we will see because the sun is harsh you'll need a uv screen or sunscreen

Declan: sun screen for the outside.

Me: I wonder if you have more than one door... Because there is another door that could open to it on a different part of the house which would then only need two more walls and a roof...

Declan: but then I'll be a space invader

Me: kid's hot tub and adult hot tub

Declan: im old already

Me: not if we're paying for Yoir food and rent -- i mean he

Declan: gotcha loop hole! Are yoh sure ? Tho?

Me: uh huh. Shy one its fine.

Brian: but we will look. She will put a medieval gate that requests a key.

Declan: busted! Over protective mother!

Me: it was one of the few things that bugged me and I know would bug her then the cats csn go out that way which she likes... So it would be perfect actually.

Declan: busted! Moms too smart!

Brian: she is smart!

Me: we just have to check about the humidity about locking it in for mold and rot

Jesse: she even beats me.

Me: or we will need a little spacing then a uv covering probably on the inside so it doesn't shred but something yall pick. Bit I totally get the anti weather.

Brian: were gonna do that to ours?

Me: sure if you want

Brian: fuck yeah!!

Kid rock: what about mine?

Me: well just line the pick up truck with plastic and fill it with water and throw a horses water heater in there. Drive ya around town.

[kindaoptimisticsquirrel]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol8 Part1

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1 Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1 Vol02 Part 2 |

Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 |

Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1

As a warning, I will start babbling about Vashwood in this volume (though not really in this part yet) and then probably in all volumes to come, too. Obviously because I love the pairing but also because their relationship is so important and impactful, and this volume marks such an important milestone.

What I really like in Vash and the talk between him and Knives at the start of Chapter 1 is, that Vash also acknowledges the pain and abuse that humans have inflicted upon the Plants. He totally understands Knive's anger and why he acts that way, but the kind sides of the humans that Vash was witness to as well, Knives never got the chance to learn. And if you'd try to show kindness to him now, he wouldn't appreciate or even see it.

Not the face of someone who's happy to be back with his old crew obviously. (Sometimes some drawings of Wolfwood make him look so much less bulky and more fragile and like the tiny Wolfwood, like here on the right...maybe because we can't see these huge shoulders. I like that!)

Still trying to live by Vash's and now his ideals, even though there's no way these soldiers are gonna get back out of this alive anyway...and how he stubbornly doesn't answer Chapel...(Meanwhile Livio is thinking "Nice! Free banquet! *continues to slaughter the men*)

Oh my boy you've come such a long way :'(

The whole rest of the talk between Knives and Vash at the end of ch1 was a great character insight, and next to what lots of other people already said I wouldn't know what to add to that. So I'm just choosing to save these panels here, sums it up pretty nicely and we get to see the two brothers in a nice comparison!

Chapter 2:

Please take my boy out of this situation. He clearly doesn't want to be there. (the way Wolfwood looks so much not-in-control of the situation....oh man)

Make a pirouette, and I'll give you a 10/10 for this jump, Knives.

If some had not been aware until now, at this point at the latest everybody will have noticed that Nightow doesn't fuck around with depicting some traumatic and cruel stuff. (And boy does he know how to do it)

There are so many awesome pages in these later volumes that I'm basically just copying whole pages in these posts here but HOLY COW doesn't this look epic.

And the whole time, Vash is unable to do anything. At least he's giving Legato a hard time, too.

That above panel damn. And look how it's killing Wolfwood internally. He's seeing all those evil deeds done by the arc, helping alongside Chapel now too, probably, and then he's already got the guild of bringing Vash here to get him trapped....all just because he wants to save his home and the kids there but BOY is it killing him inside. It sucks when you have to be the bad guy to save the ones you care about.

Also, the turn the story takes at this point, with everything falling into chaos so quickly...it's gotten very quickly so much darker now. I do like dark stories too so I was enjoying this with anticipation how it could get resolved when I read this for the first time. Still, very tough stuff to digest.

And then, of course, omg these girls appear again!!! You go!!! However you managed to survive, you're looking well. I'm also glad Luida is still here too ♥

Chapter 3:

If I'm ever in need for a mechanic and had to choose from the Trigun cast you know I'd go for Brad. Look how crafty he looks with that..drill...thingy. Leaking faucets, here's your mortal enemy!

THANK YOU Luida. Yes, Vash has dangerous powers, but he's also Vash and you all owe him so much!! Not letting some fear prevent you from trusting in him!

Wolfwood awoooing at the moon, just like his name says. Also, this was the scene where the plants memories are being shown, and I love that we actually get to see something from their view! The way it's done, with only same-size panels from the same view is also the perfect way to make that clear.

Super neat way to show how all these different memories and plant consciousnesses (?) are breaking him apart

Please look at our queen in all her murderous glory.

oh god oh god oh god (I'm reading this for the 12234th time but still)

oh god OH YES

[theliterateape]

Today I’m Wearing Red Socks

By Mike Vinopal

Today I’m wearing red socks. 

I have a pair of red socks as a warning. To alert me to how lazy a shit bag I’ve been about my laundry. To remind me that I am down to the bottom of the barrel and that if I don’t do laundry soon, I’ll be relegated to wearing dress socks whose elastic has gone slack from the punishment my enormous calves have put on them when formal attire is called for. Yes, these are the ones that should’ve been tossed long ago. Guilty.

And even if their elastic is up to snuff, these socks are far too thin for sneakers. 

And it’s less about cheapness and more about using the little money I have on things more enjoyable than mere socks. But when it’s a red sock day, I’m forced to reconsider my appreciation for this mundane everyday undergarment. 

I fantasize about appropriately fitting socks that don’t squeeze too tight at the ankle. I admire the substance of a fresh sock, yet to be worn down by the rigors of life’s motion.

I have underwear like that, serving the same purpose.

Today, I’m wearing those too.

They’re Beavis and Butthead underwear that feature the cartoon duo quite prominently in the nude. Technically they are wearing fig leaves, reenacting the most famous panel from Michelangelo’s paintings adorning the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, “The Creation of Adam.” A bearded Beavis reaches out to bearded Butthead. Pretty weird, right? Well, what better way to be reminded that come tomorrow, you will be faced with a difficult underwear decision. 

Free-ball it or ride ‘em dirty? An underwear encore presentation? The ole inside-out trick? A timely conflict we’ve all encountered while navigating the hard realities of adulthood.

But adulthood is much different now than it was. I find myself in my warning red socks and Beavis and Butthead boxers quite honestly because my days fill madly with emails, appointments, hustling, all of it, still just to scrape by paying rent to a landlord that needs to replace a washer that took a shit, actually more like a big horse-sized piss, a few weeks ago. The old girl (the washer to be clear) couldn’t do it anymore, washing her final load, and spilling out here wet insides all over the basement floor.

Was sad to see her go.

But now that I’ve mourned the loss of our washer, I’m kinda like, “Where the fuck’s our new washer?” I’m gonna text him right now. Maybe I’ll leave the part about the red socks out.

[ashroadtrek-blog]

The Naked Time

I found this episode highly enjoyable. 

We’ve seen Spock smile twice so far, we’ve seen him annoyed, but we haven’t seen him like this. Well, I guess that at episode 5 there really hasn’t been time. Spock goes from neutral, to focused, to irritated, to having had it up to here with everyone’s shit, to his emotional nature breaking through and breaking him down. It’s a great arc and without it this would not be that good of an episode.

Then again, there is Kirk’s bit about love. Kirk loves that ship like the wife he never had (almost married that blonde lab tech though), but not because it’d be against protocol to date his space-secretary - because the ship is the only thing that he can protect, that is there for him, day after day, and that he can die with if necessary. A female crewman love interest may die in an attack or on an away mission, be reassigned, or sent to an escape pod. The Enterprise is the only woman Kirk can love without the fear of losing her obstructing his duties, because preventing her destruction is his duty. 

It is these two arcs from TOS’ principal leads absolutely make the episode. 

Oh, wait, I’m sorry; Sulu going balls out camp makes the episode. “Joey just died? Well I know what’ll cheer us up - how about we go to the gym and get our fence on!” What a card. 

Now, here’s what’s sort of bothering me about TOS this time: Joey takes off his glove to itch his nose under the thermal environmental whatever suit, right? He doesn’t bother to put it back on right away! Don’t they teach these people anything at the Academy? Or in basic training for enlisted men? Spock reminds him after the fact - he shouldn’t have to!

Note the mannequin standing in for a dead, frozen body.

I noted that this is the first episode in which I believe EVERYONE is present; this is the first episode with Nurse Chapel, after all. Why didn’t the reboots have Rand and Chapel? Probably because JJ is a plebeian and a casual. 

Apparently she’s in love with Spock to boot. Her wig was awful, which is surprising. She gets drunk off the virus and stands around rubbing herself with a piece of medical equipment...I wondered if it...nevermind. Don’t go there, keep Star Trek clean.

QUIET, CADET!

I was wondering - why do they have to burn open the access panel for the engineering door controls? My theory: along with the analog controls and lack of view screens, this was a hold-over from the early wars of the Federation. The Romulans are probably dope at invasive malware; imagine reprogramming a ship to shut off all power to life support, jettison escape pods and shuttles, then turn into a giant drone that can terrorize enemy planets. That’s practically Cardassian now that I think of it...

Riley is going to eat shit over this. Joey is dead, and while Starfleet may understand the conditions, it clearly doesn’t file it under ‘important’ since it happens again 100 years later in The Naked Now, which I remember as being much, much less well done than The Naked Time. 

No, Mr. Riley is going to get thrown under the bus for nearly destroying the fucking ship! He shut off the engines! TO A STAR SHIP! He shut off the engines to a star ship orbiting a planet breaking up. If he appears after this, Starfleet either really needs crewmen or it is really understanding when it comes to space crazy - I like to consider the latter regardless of the hazards, because we’ve all done embarrassing things when we’re drunk. Still, the man deserves a court martial for subjecting the crew to intense psychological torture in the form of repeated renditions of ‘Kathleen’. I’ll take him home again - home to the penal colony in New Zealand. 

Btw, they invented time travel off the cuff by mixing matter and antimatter and kickstarting their engines. Maybe Riley gets off with a demerit because of that.

Misc.; 3D checkers! 

Personal Rating: 4/5; Don’t Skip.

This would be just another one of those wacky 60s Star Trek episodes if it weren’t for the profound reveal into Kirk and Spock’s characters in the last 15 minutes or so. In fact, it’s such a good episode I didn’t mind re-watching it to review it; I saw it a week or two ago but life has been happening pretty hard and I didn’t take notes. 

END.