#i love you art the clown i love when you kill people badly

[girlthingdecay]

watching terrifier 3. again. again. again. again. again

[obnoxiouslittlefrog93]

Ok ik y'all are probably sick of me double-posting but like. Idk there's just something I have to put into words.

I was a huge fan of The Beatles at 14. I'm talking super obnoxious, if you knew me in middle school or even high school I was absolutely insufferable kind of fan. I'd have bullied past me tbh. And ofc since I "loved" Paul McCartney so much (I now consider him a fucking clown, the first red flag should've been the lamest cover of Crossroads ever recorded) I thought I was cis and straight.

I guess the first nail in the coffin was seeing him live. Ikr, who tf sees their hero live and falls out of love with them? Well, I did. It wasn't that I was disappointed, or even felt any less for him at the time. I'd finally done it, I'd seen him in person, in the flesh. I was lucky enough to have a floor seat and for a few measly seconds he even acknowledged my existence. I had these great big glittery cardboard signs I held up, probably asking for a piece of his hair or something stupid like that. Idk, they've either been thrown out or disappeared into a pile of miscellaneous junk in the back of my closet or the basement. As much as I think just as badly of him today as I did good about him then, you have to understand that as a suicidal teenager the only thing worth living for was a hot piece of ass (even an old one that lived in the grainy film of decades passed) that could be mine forever if only I was able to express to him how much I needed him. I knew on some level that it was entirely stupid. I was dumb, but not that dumb. I entirely expected a mere millisecond of his attention that he had to divide among the huge audience, but that didn't mean it hurt any less when the illusion finally broke. I lied, manipulated, and stole for those tickets. For years I poured my entire being into a band that didn't even exist anymore and what did I get for it? Crumbs. I guess I was just used to that, I'd never gotten anything more from anyone without some form of trickery. That's probably why I didn't feel betrayed in the slightest, at least not until Egypt Station came out.

Egypt Station was an album entirely born of the modern era, an era I had and still have absolutely no place in. The 2000's is no place for a depressed creative with the type of brain chemistry that insists on constantly watching YouTube videos just to drown out the deafening silence of yet another soulless house with beige carpet and grey walls, too damaged to stand working a soul sucking job but too incompetent to get one that matters. I should have been an outlaw. I was born damaged and violated and ashamed for reasons I was too young to remember. I didn't know why I hated myself so much but I knew it had to come from somewhere. All the evidence pointed to the very people who were supposed to keep me safe and take care of me, and from some incomprehensible source I knew I couldn't trust them. I lived by my wits, and that's the only way I know how to live. Thing is, that way of living doesn't exist anymore. There's no western frontier to disappear into, in the material world, in the musical world, in the art world, anywhere. The art and writing and music industries are so deeply tied to society and capitalism that you aren't selling your soul at the crossroads anymore. No, you're selling it at an auction house, cooped up in a metal pen like livestock. Rotting in your own filth. And the bidders are becoming less and less every round, the auctioneer is tired and slow, and no one gives a shit unless you're lucky enough to be marketable. Much as I tried I could never get the devil to appear. He's too busy helping white moms profit off of MLM's and whispering the so-called "benefits" of AI to corporations. Egypt Station made me sick to my very soul. I threw away years of my life, emasculated myself, all but whored myself out to this bitch only for him to devote what talent I saw in him to the world that was killing me.

Make no mistake, I knew deep down that I was a man, even then. There is nothing cis or straight about fantasizing a world in which I got surgery to have a huge dick, and lived with rockstars, and trashed hotel rooms with Keith Moon and fucked more sexy long haired talented men than Miss Pamela Des Barres herself. From the age of 12 I could teach a cowboy how to manspread and a sailor swears that would have never crossed his mind. Living with my dad, huge bastard that he is, probably helped with that, but this isn't about him. The Beatles, for all their saccharine messages of peace and love, could never have convinced me any of it was real. I wanted to. For those years the most important lyrics in the world to me were "the love you take is equal to the love you make." Even my own goddamn shithead narcissist of a father couldn't come up with that, the biggest pile of bullshit I ever believed in. I knew from experience.

A year ago I watched Cowboy Bebop. In the time that passed I'd learned how to be a man from rockstars and other damaged artists. I was also living with a group of cis and straight roommates who would go on to personally victimize myself, and our trans roommate who I became close to, and "accidentally" poison his dog. That's a story I won't get into now because this is already long as fuck. Point is, as soon as they decided they didn't like us, they made our lives a living hell. They made me suicidally anxious in such a way that I doubted they were even the problem. It was my dumb autistic ass, unable to tell if they even hated me or not. I was so desperate to get out of my parents' house, where I still have to walk on eggshells, and not live in such a place ever again that I didn't even believe it was happening. Conditioned to avoid confrontation like the plague, I let them walk all over me. The only job I've ever had didn't help. It was just as soul sucking as that house, so desperate for workers they hired my incompetent, unskilled, completely unexperienced ass. But every night I came home from work, dead on my feet, he and the dog were there. I'd run upstairs to get out of my work clothes, then we'd sit on his bed and smoke, the dog sitting in my lap, and watch trash reality TV from the early 2000's, or whatever predator catchers-style show was in his YouTube recommendations. That's probably what kept me alive then. And in that period, over a couple weeks, my other friend, the only one I'd had for that long, since the aforementioned Beatles phase to this day, made me watch Cowboy Bebop.

I cried when Spike died, but I didn't know why at the time. I wasn't in a place to process it. Spike wasn't even a real person, but I didn't know why or how he was so real to me. I didn't even notice when it was right in front of me, when I was living it, that we're far too much alike. Suicidal stoics, living in a dream, alive by mere chance, more comfortable alone and floating through the endless void of space than any sane man should be. I learned something from him though. Whatever happens, happens. What other choice did I have? Now that I was so broken as to be unable to delude myself any further because the anxiety would kill me, I had to give up. I had no more fucks to give. Fuck these awful people I live with, fuck my failing grades, fuck whatever bullshit comes to destroy me. Whatever happens happens, nothing I can do about it now. Best I can do is take it with a straight face when the alternative is death. Then, about 4 months ago, I felt the need to watch it again. Yet again, any sense of stability was starting to crumble, and I wanted nothing more than to sit and smoke and go back to living on that ugly yellow couch with Spike, Jet cooking in the other room, Faye sitting on the stairs filing her nails, and Ed typing away on her computer. I wanted to sit out on the wing of the Swordfish with the world behind and the open road ahead. I know where the series goes, whenever I rewatch it, but I'll never let Spike die his final death. I have to believe, that there's a happy existence out there for him somewhere, because we share the same soul. Even if I have to drag him up from hell, more broken than I ever thought possible, to get him there.

I still don't know, if I'm really alive. Maybe I'll never know. I don't remember if I was, when I first read those lyrics, but I guess I should've paid more attention to "You're gonna carry that weight."

listening to music i listened to when i was 14 makes me realise im still the same person but taller & with a rare esoteric wisdom that can only be gained through suffering

[actualbird]

each nxx boy was Not Like The Other Kids back in elementary to middle school but for like, wildly different reasons

wc: 889

luke pearce: there is a violence in this child somehow

luke is a very much friendly boy but his main issue is that hes ridiculously codependent on mc. one time in middle school she was absent and at home resting off a bad flu and luke looked like he wanted to set the world on fire because how DARE GERMS DO THIS TO HER!!

he also keeps getting his face busted up somehow, it's because he does stupid shit like jump over 4 steps on the stairs at once or he wanted to do a sick wheelie on his bicycle. but the other kids dont know that, they assume he fights bears on the weekends because sometimes luke can get Scary at the drop of a hat, usually when somebody is dumb enough to insult or bully mc, and the nature of kids is to blow everything out of proportion. i heard luke pearce created a hole in the ozone layer. i heard he killed a man with THAT THUMB!

teachers pick up on that hidden energy beneath his straight A grades and sunshiney smile and, to joke-ify this, a text post that applies to luke pearce

-

artem wing: awkward to the point many untrue assumptions are made

he works so much, TOO MUCH. many teachers have told his mother "hes a lovely student. please tell him to relax, though"

artem also has the added buff of being intimidating intense even as a 10 year old and he DOESNT MEAN TO he just does NOT know how to interact with the others

i see teen!artem being in a hoodie with the hood up most of the time, hes That Introvert but also hoodies are just nice if one is the type of person who finds comfort from being more covered, clothing wise, and artem seems to be that type of person.

however, the constant hoodie does make him seem even more intimidating and also like, MYSTERIOUS...

[cn server spoilers] it's canon that artem got enrolled into high school a little later into the semester and everybody had their cliques already and he was awkward and didnt know how to get his own friends. nobody treated him badly tho. but he just like, looked SO AWKWARD ISOLATED VAGUELY MISERABLE that many teachers thought he was being INTENSELY BULLIED. i posit this has been a pattern ever since artem was in kindergarten

teacher: artem, are the other kids being mean to you? :(

artem: no? what?

teacher: oh you poor thing :(

artem: huh?

-

marius von hagen: rich kid honor student with a too-cool family

hes extrovert bonanza and also sometimes he likes being the class clown eventually but he puts ppl off bc 1) von hagen and 2) nobody has seen him even look remotely interested in any class sans art and yet he keeps acing everything, it's NOT FAIR

marius' academic excellence + his status = sparks jealousy and regular childlike hatred in some classmates. it's canon that he got picked on by the other kids sometimes and yep, he Does, but any and all bullying simply makes him work so much harder out of SPITE. may cause a vicious cycle of him spite achieving and others getting more and more miffed kJBKSJGS

also kids r always staring in barely concealed awe whenever giann picks him up from school in a REALLY COOL CAR and giann looks REALLY COOL, COOL ADULT VIBES, and marius is always like GIANN!!! DONT RUFFLE MY HAIR, IM NOT A KID ANYMORE!!!

actually u know that scene in Into The Spiderverse? this one?

giann and marius. it's one of marius' most embarassing moments in his life but nobody picks on him for it because giann is just, and i cannot stress this enough, SO COOL

-

vyn richter: PEAK Weird Kid representation

of them all, i think vyn would be the best rep for Weird Kids, he was going into the forest to collect pebbles and leaves to dump in a bucket and stir together with rainwater to make a potion but only for his favorite horses at the stable (which the horses drink bc they love vyn). he'd make up elaborate stories for imaginary friends because there werent too many people he liked talking to growing up and this is how he cultivates a habit of talking to himself. also i think he like, Doesnt Blink Much, like a frigging owl. it's mostly bc vyn likes observing but it unnerves the other kids IMMENSELY

all the boys are academic over achievers but vyn REALLY takes the cake because he gets into bougie extracurriculars too: archery, fencing, classical piano. it's wholly impressive but also intimidating kJBJKSD child prodigies, i figure, must be difficult for other kids to connect with. vyn is simultaneously relieved and sad about this bc on one hand, hes scared that tho others will turn on him. but on the other hand, hes a lonely child

back to Weird Kid representation: remember that one scene in lilo and stitch where lilo puts a bunch of fork voodoo dolls into a pickle jar and shakes em up? thats vyn.

vyn's father: son, what...what are you doing?

vyn, shaking the jar VIGOROUSLY: my classmates need to be punished

[gwendeeagain]

hello !! i was wondering what exactly you think of kayano's whole "newsflash asshole i've been the sister of your dead teacher this entire goddamn time!"

your preference towards her pre-reveal persona being a purposeful forgetful character is clear haha but on that same note, how much do you think it was true? also, how do you think the teachers (esp as trained professionals) think of her after it? peace and love i just don't have any friends who like assassination classroom to talk to </3

Hehe hi! Thanks for the ask! I love Kayano so the reply will be a bit of a long one... so I'll hide the reply under the "keep reading" tab.

I remember when I first watched the series, I was both confused and annoyed that Kayano was advertised/put as part of the main cast when she didn't quite do much, and I didn't think her presence so far justified her position in the main trio. I thought that she was one of the token "love interest" characters (that were otherwise useless and bland), which was such a shame. (I never disliked her because of any ships or such, I actually thought the main trio would be a cute ot3!)

And then.. the reveal! I fell in love with her. I thought her pre-reveal persona was kind of smart and showed that Akari was such a good actress. The choice to adopt an unassuming personality also helped her fly under the radar. It blindsided the audience (read: me, the clown) as well.

One of the main issue I had with it was how it seemed like a shock factor plot twist. Like, the premise was clearly set up and it's quite an intricate plot, but it's a shame to the plot that there weren't many "hints" to catch. (Maybe there were, and I'm just unobservant).

(I know there are some panels in the manga or something like that, but I think that the manga and the anime should be treated as distinct works of art, ie. they should both stand independently. I shouldn't need to cross-reference the media to be able to understand the other.)

How much do I think that her pre-persona personality was true? A lot, I think. Considering that it was a year-long acting stint without a break in between, it would be a lot easier to act close to, well, how you really are. The most natural lies are the one closest to truth! Besides, given that she spent so long in the role, I think by the end of the year, she would have ingrained some part of it in herself anyways. It's like, fake it to you make it.

The class' reactions was pretty underwhelming and disappointing. I think there was a popular string of posts about the Kayano Civil War that explains it a lot better than me. I think that the class realistically been a lot more hurt by her betrayal. (I can't find the post to the Kayano Civil War now, sorry.)

(I think that ^ whole thing was a consistent writing choice through the show. Assclass is a relatively short anime that crams a lot of content into a small amount of episodes, and most events that happen wrap up pretty concisely within the few episodes it spans and doesn't show much repercussions afterwards in later episodes. It seems like Assclass was just trying to throw many different problems at us, but doesn't really want to drag them out for too long, so they wrap each issue up with "and everyone was fine at the end :)" The class seems relatively unfazed for each problem they trip over, like Takaoka or almost being drowned or almost being poisoned and killed or the Reaper incident with Irina's betrayal or Nagisa's mother or- you get it. I'm not sure what I can say for this, because on one hand it's an anime for kids and it was quite short, but on another I don't believe that a show should focus on murder and such heavy topics without being able to handle it with the appropriate weight. I digress.)

How will the teachers react?

This is such a fun question! I think Koro-sensei would be both parts hurt and disappointed/angry at himself, because he's the world-class top assassin. There's probably a level of pride he carries on being able to read people and handle problems. Given that Kayano was so close to Aguri, I think he would be extremely disappointed in himself that he failed to figure it out and help Kayano enough.

On a similar vein, Irina would be second-guessing her own espionage abilities. I imagine she might show some interest in acting classes or maybe speak to Kayano a bit more to understand her. I don't imagine her taking it badly - moreover I think she'll be impressed.

Karasuma! He's funny. I think he would, firstly, second-guess all the background checks (I hope) had been done when they were looking into 3-E. He seemed just as surprised with the whole reveal, which means his superiors were keeping the whole Government Experiment thing from him, which... is incredibly unethical, to another point. If you think about it, if he was told from the get-go, they might be able to prepare for some eventualities like looking out for Yanagisawa and potential revenge plots, looking for a good setting to tell the kids about the whole thing instead of the whole surprise sprung on them, et cetera. He'd probably be pissed and cynical, and he wants to get Kayano some therapy. They all need therapy.

Oopsie, this is a bit too long of a reply, I think. Thanks Anon! I had fun thinking about my response. Hehe, feel free to reply or toss more questions at me. My dms are always open too!

[lovee-infected]

Alright, this might be a bit too early to be saying this, but ever since Rook's 'betrayal' and those who are hating on him now...I'm kind of worried the same thing might happen to Silver. Since each of the stories take parts from the movies, we know that Silver is twisted from the sword that killed Maleficent. And what if he's forced to defeat Malmal? Knowing toxic people are in the fandom, they might start bashing others for still loving him. That's what scares me. ~🍁leaf anon

I was thinking of the same thing a few days ago www. Well, *sigh* time for another analysis I guess:

Considering what we had to go through after Pomefiore chapter...I thought if it was really just because of how the story ended. But I came to realize something important, the drama wasn't simply because a NRC student voted for RSA, it was because Rook did this, a character who already had a considerably dramatic reputation in the fandom way before Pomefiore was released:

Let me give you a better example, Leona. In savanaclaw's arc Leona was this close to seriously killing Ruggie. We all know that it wasn't intentional, his attack was a result of having his magic stone tainted which soon led to Leona's overblot so his actions/ emotions weren't really under his control at the time.

But still, he almost killed Ruggie but no one ever really started a drama or #CancelLeonaKingscholar tag over it, I'd dare say no one even blamed him either.

Well Leona might not be the best example we can use here but I assure you, if Rook does something really bad, and Leoona does the exacf same thing afterwards, Leona would face less punishment and blame because of his current popularity and clout.

According to the statistics, Leona's currently the most popular dorm leader and most likely the most popular character of the game, doing something absolutely horrible may lead to a mild decrease in number of fans, yet, it'll never, never be as dramatic and horrible as what fans did over Rook.

Look, clout is very important, so if a potentionally popular character does something bad a considerble majority of fans might simply ignore and exucse their deeds, note that as students who have souls of greatest of villains none of them were ever supposed to be any pure either; NRC is a school of villains.

What I'm trying to say, is that the drama was also exaggerated because it was with Rook of all people. Both Rook and Vil are characters who have been looked down on and harassed ever since twst was released, so no wonder why the fandom exploded when Rook of all people made NRC lose the VDC.

-Defending your bias- is something quite common in not just twst but rather each and every fandom all over the world! I'm not saying everyone would just ignore everything horrible their bias has done to defend them, but a huge majority of fans would this soooo when dramas like his arrive, more popular characters like Leona and Malleus have a higher chance of survival while Rook just drowned under the pile of hate comments and posts.

Regarding the Diasomnia chapter, I'd give you an example using Malleus; He is a very important character, dare to say the most important character of the game after Yuu. Why am I saying this? Oh God, can't you all see? The one and only character to be on twst's official poster, the only one who got an official artwork aside his concept art and game cards design; the very last character we're going to have a SSR pick up for and the last dorm leader we're going to meet and also the only character who happened to befriend and get to know Yuu without knowing them much or having a specific chance to meet them in school.

Why is his role so important? We don't know. We don't know what makes Malleus special and that's my point, it can even turn out to be something truly evil.

I love Malleus, but at the same time I don't fully trust him, his "I've got lovely plans to entertain you here" has been giving me chills for so long and if he turns out to be a total contrast to the silly tamagotchi baby this fandom has made of him I won't be the least surprised; yet, even if we get to face a plot twist that changes our entire perspective towards him ( in bad way) I still won't unstan him, not because I think of him as a misunderstood and isolated young boy who is kind and pure at heart no matter how scary he looks on the outside.

Each and every of our characters (except Silver, I'd later explain why) have a dark side to them whether you like it or not, that's a fact. Expecting guys who are supposedly twisted Villains to behave like a prince on the white horse is nothing but a wild fanon fantasy.

I guess Diasomnia chapter is still going to face less drama since most of Diasomnia characters are considerbly popular among the fans, but Sebek's on think ice I'd say, I'm sure that I won't ever see a #CancelMalleusDraconia tag but a #CancelSebekZigvolt tag? That's not too far from mind considering how Rook got shitted on because of a simple vote. I guess almost all of us have already prepared for Silver's possible betrayal as the sword so if anyone ever dares start a drama over something which we already saw coming long ago, that's a matter of immaturity and obvious stupidity.

Long story short, no matter what happens in the future story line, I expect everyone to be civil. Just a boo is all it takes for some dramtic fans to lose their minds again but let me tell you: Even if Malleus DIES(which is logically impossible) in the very end I'm still mature enough to never start a drama over it no matter how badly it hurts.

But...since I know there's never really a way to prevent drama in this fandom, all I can say is to stay silent whenever you see a wave of drama. Don't support the drama, but don't oppose to it either, just ignore it.

I was watching as the wave of Rook drama washed down the fandom and this is the summary of how posts changed under the tags:

12 hours after the release of Pomefiore's final episodes: Memes clowning Rook, mild spams of hate.

12 hours- 4 days after the release of Pomefiore's final episodes: Posts defending Rook, shoutouts, stuff explaining why Rook's vote for RSA made sense, etc.

You see what I mean? The first 12 hours was the main wave of hate spam but this drama was mainly about the spam of posts defending Rook, not attacking him.

Continuing a drama, whether it's by hating a character or defending them just worsens the chaos even as you're totally right and mean good.

The one and only way to truly prevent a drama from being spread all over the fandom, is by not supporting/atracking any posts, ignoring drama and waiting until no one is talking about it anymore.

[chicoriii]

Season 4, Episode 2 - Mensonge (Lies)

Welcome again. I had been logged out from Tumblr for the whole weekend, because I was afraid of untagged spoilers, as I've seen one screenshot here accidentally, fortunately it wasn't spoilerish. And I've watched the Lies today. Again without reading other's people opinion about the episode, so I probably write things that have been said before.

I enjoyed it more than Truth. But not because it's better written, I think the overall quality of both is similar. Lies is about characters I care about more, so it's natural that the episode is automatically more interesting to me. I dislike both Luka and Jagged (to be fair the only member of the Couffaine family I like is Juleka) and that would be hard to make me caring about them, the best thing I could say about any of those characters is that I tolerate them on screen. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Truth was the best episode for Luka and Jagged, but they are still dull and/or annoying to me. Creators need to develop son-father relationship more to make me interested in it, that arc was too shallow in Truth.

But the post is about Adrigami episode, not Lukanette one.

I'm surprised that we got only one not very long scene with civilian Marinette. But not surprised that she's still pining over Adrien. Just like Chat is pining over Ladybug. As I'm keeping saying, it's not gonna change. But really, Marinette thinks that Adrien's life is perfect? She should know that tight schedule could be a big problem and has she forgotten what terrible father is Gabriel? Of course she doesn't know details we know, but she should be aware that he isn't as good parent like her own. So probably her enamored brain can't see bad sides of life of her loved one. She still can't think rational when it comes to him. Another reason why she should stop putting him on a pedestal. We need some friendly Adrienette so badly, we need to see Adrien telling her more bad things in his life. He isn't used to complain, but I think he needs to tell someone the truth about his family life. I hope Marinette will be that person.

I had been tired of clown Chat in Truth, but this episode lets us to see the situation from his point of view and now I understand more why he behaves like that. I think that he tries to hide from Ladybug how much he miss spending time with her that way. He is aware that's because of her new responsibility and he doesn't want to make her feel bad for it. Those scenes were so sweet. How much Chat wants an Akuma to appear just to see his lady. Not very noble, but I can't blame him. It only shows that Adrien is a normal human being. We all are selfish from time to time and it's healthy (you only have to find a good balance, being as selfish as Chloé and as selfless as Luka is not good).

Geez, why they can't put the right title of the piece? That's a different composition than that one used back in season 2, but the smartphone's screen says the same. And none of them is actually Raindrop Prelude. This is Raindrop Prelude. They are not even any of Chopin's preludes. I won't be surprised if both are not Fryderyk Chopin's compositions either (although I haven't heard all the solo piano pieces composed by him, so I can't be sure). I love classical music, so I'd love to know what pieces Adrien's playing! By the way, I recommend to listen to all of the 24 preludes, they are usually very short but interesting compositions. If you're too lazy to listen to all, check out number 20 at least, that's a pure, very atmospheric, beauty. One of my favourites melodies ever created.

I have always thought that Adrigami has more chemistry and it's generally more entertaining to watch than Lukanette (sorry stans, but you probably don't even follow me and read my posts,  there's a reason why I'm warning that my blog is not Luka and Lukanette friendly in its description). I feel that in this episode as well. Absolutely it's not a perfect relationship and it can't be, as Adrien is still into Ladybug. It's clear that Kagami is the one who really cares, Adrien is more distant. It seems that he's abashed of Kagami's physical intimacy, like he can't be open to her when he's still in love with Ladybug. That was really sad to hear Kagami's words that she's lying to be more often with him and he lies to not spend time with her. But relationship can't work if only one side is invested in it and they both need to learn it. They have some things in common, I like how they spending time together, so I'm sure they would work much better as friends. I'm sorry for Kagami and I wish her a better boyfriend who would love her truly. In some way it was a repeat of Truth, as we've seen Adrien leaving Kagami all of sudden, because of Akuma's attacks, but this time it's not as heavily portrayed like it's not working only because of superhero responsibility, that I didn't like in the previous episode. Another reason why I liked how Adrigami is shown more.

I really, really loved that we've learnt something new about Kagami and that's amazing it's something I have in common with her. I'm really surprised, since she didn't seem to have an artistic soul before. I also love seeing she likes draw animals, it's like me, I'm trying practise it. I enjoy drawing animals (and creatures like Kwamis or Pokémon) more than humans. But at the same time I feel angry at her mother. How could she dare to say that Kagami isn't good enough? Trying to kill a child's hobby is always unforgivable. She's much better than me (I'm a little jealous, but that's not the first time when a teen has much better skill than me), but my family and some others I know in real life often say that I'm talented and some people try to convince me to take pay commissions. That’s me who knows the best than I'm not skilled enough to take money for my art (they don't know really good artists in person and they don’t draw themselves, so no wonder they are not aware that my works aren't that good they think). Maybe some day, but not now, so I only enjoy drawing gifts for others. I'm also got interested in a real French artist she mentioned - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and I've seen some of his works. Very good for Miraculous for mentioning artist like him, I have never heard about him before, but maybe French students learn about him in school.

Seeing Adrien making Chat's pose was hilarious. I'm sure it's food for true selves trope supporters, but I also agree with Kagami that both model poses and Chat's poses are not ALL Adrien poses. He's more than that. That seemed like he has problems with being natural when he's on the pressure. He's learned how to make model poses, but I also think that when he is in full clown mode is also an act. But that's a mask which he has putted all by himself. In which he tries to be as much different than his public image as he can. Of course being dorky is also a true Adrien side, but not all the time. Being just a cute and polite boy is also true him. It seems that Adrien is not aware of it.

Marinette's lucky charm bracelet is an akumatised object once more. That and the fact she was asking him what he was doing on the boat tell us that Kagami probably think that Adrien is in love with Marinette (it could make also her wonder what stop them from being together if she knows that Marinette likes him as well).

I also liked her reaction to imminent breaking up more. It's more human reaction in my opinion. Some anger, but not too much. She says she doesn't want to see him for a while and that's completely understandable. Adrien has broken her heart, so she need some time to take care of herself without being interrupted by him. I'm going to say something that could be seen controversial, but in my opinion her attitude is way more healthy than Luka's. He still waits for a girl who clearly likes another boy much, but she's trying to really give up on him. And I would like to see a scene in which she says him that Marinette is not worth his waiting, he should be open for another love instead. Uff, I was really worried that they might kill Adrien and Kagami characters. But nothing really bad happened in the episode between them, everything was in-character. Of course salters will still find reasons to hate Kagami, they can say she's possessive towards him (that's true to some extent, but I think it's not really toxic, as she's still cares about his true feelings).

I need to say that Lies is the worst S4 Akuma design we've seen till now. Riposte and Oni-chan were much better. Also the battle was the worst part of this episode in my opinion. It wasn't completely bad, but it felt somewhat boring to me. I definitely enjoyed fights against Truth and Furious Fu more. The thing about that I liked the most what how they made use of Fang.

So the season 4 version of Chat Noir's transformation theme is exactly the same they used in the Shanghai special. It wasn't obvious, since Ladybug's one is a different one than that in the show. I noticed that that Ladybug's theme feels more like a new composition which only uses parts of an original version, while Chat's is clearly "just" an arrangement of the theme we know since season 1. Maybe that's because it's supposed to symbolise that she has even more responsibility now, as she's the Guardian as well. Chat's role hasn't changed that much as hers. I also think the new arrangement sounds cooler, it's more electric guitar-driven. I can't wait to get any of the episodes in which there's his transformation sequence with 5.1 audio to rip it.

All three released episodes are nice for Ladynoir a lot, their scenes are all sweet and wholesome. It almost feel like Ladynoir is close to happen. But I feel that's just calm before the storm. Marinette hasn't reached to her worst moment yet. I'm sure Ladybug will have more breakdowns like that in the season 3 finale.

Three episodes aired and I'm not amazed by any of them. But I don't want to be salty, I'm not worried about that. That's true for season 3 as well, I enjoy the second part of the season more as well. It's important to save the best episodes for later. And I have never expected that I would love all the S4 episodes, despite of pre-release statements, it's impossible. I'm not disappointed. Yet. Just give me some Adrienette food. Please.

[maskved]

hello, besties ! this is ami (she/her) and i’m probably late with this intro ! first i’m sorry for mass-liking every post but i’m already in love with all your lovely muses. also i must confess that i’ve only read the first book ( years ago ) and watched the show because i have an attention span of - 10 seconds.  but at least i’m a soc hoe, so we can scream about that ... please ... !!! so if i get anything wrong pls let me know or you can also not let me know and i’ll continue being embarrassing 😔. anyway, if you are interested in some juicy plotting pls LIKE this post or message me ( if you want to plot on discord we can also do that 💖). I’M EXCITED.

PINTEREST  . discor*d     six of hoes🔪#7888  //  YEVA

[ viktoriya zobova ], an [ twenty six ] year old grisha in the little palace. she is  a [ tailor ] and are known in the little palace as the [ viscerotonic ]. they are known to be [ resilient ] and [ elusive ] and vaguely resemble [ kristine froseth ]. 

death tw

- viktoriya zobova ( however, prefers to be called vika because every time one calls her by her full name she might as well be in trouble ) had never been more than average. born to average parents ( although grisha their powers pale compared to others ) into an average family and of course as the middle child, vika strived for more than simply being overlooked.

- truth to be told, she dreaded to be tested. to her it seemed like the final reminder that she was nothing special, average, merely an extra to someone other’s story. she even wished, she wouldn’t be a grisha, fearing that like her parents she’d belong to the lower ranks. however, if she turned out to be a simple human without any power, at least she’d be special within her family or could even try to make a story up that she was adopted or something ( i hate her -- ).

- however, the moment she found out about being able to alter people’s appearances with her ability *atla vc* everything changed - 

- truth to be told she knew she was considered to be lower rank among others but what really fueled her arrogance and the sudden feeling of self importance was her knowing that she possessed a rare ability. she didn’t care others treating her badly for her rank because “hey i can alter appearances and that is lit ( she probably didn’t say it that way - )

- ALSO ( here comes the moment i throw in my found family trope bcs i’m a soc hoe and this actually plays a big role in her story ) she’d found comfort in the friends she met.

- (lemme add my childhood friends trope bcs why not ) as vika was never close to her parents ( to be fair her being taken away for the training at such a young age did not really gave her the time to really bond with her family ) her little group of friends became her second family. they called themselves “blood is thicker water” ( gang ???) bcs 1) vika really thought the saying was blood is thicker water and not blood is thicker than water 2) they thought they were incredibly funny.

- they were pretty much known as troublemakers, especially with vika being a tailor it was easy to sometimes shift the blame on others. truth to be told, it only caused vika to be more frivolous. all the fun they had blinded her judgment and she viewed her ability as harmless.

- well, lets say vika becoming more reckless did not end up being the best character development (lmao). as usual , everything started out as a harmless joke. her friend asked her to change his appearance. however, this time they wanted her to change their whole face. not just the colour of their hair or eyes. vika was reluctant at first, she’d never done it before but in the end she agreed to it and much to her surprise she succeeded. she even bragged about it and told her friends ( of the bloody “blood is thicker water” gang (???) ) .

-  to cut a long story short, their friend ended up dying because of it. i have two versions for their death ( i haven’t decided on it yet *clown emoji*)

1) the person they changed their appearance into apparantly was involed in some shady stuff and had some pretty morally questionable people around him. they thought vika’s friends was that person they were looking for (bcs of the changed appearance) and killed them for some reason.

2) vika’s friend was supposed to be part of some mission they didn’t want to go to, thus changed their appearance to escape from it. however, ended up having to do another mission and ended up being killed. 

RIP nameless but vital character to vika’s bio 

- vika pretty much blamed herself for it and maybe her friends of their friend group as well. this incident also ‘humbled’ vika and now instead of being proud of it she hates it.

- right now, she doesn’t really know what to do with her future. she has this ‘oh so grand’ plan that one day she might be able to change her appearance (permanently) and then leave the little palace and live under a new name and lead a life where she wouldn’t need to use her abilities anymore.

personality ( i’m trying to keep it short i swear, i’m just adding a bunch of sentence here bcs i’m throwing all my ideas into this paragraph)

- she’s known to be pretty social. she loves to talk and honestly doesn’t know when to shut up. she can’t deal with silence because it forces her to think about things she doesn’t want to think about. although, her tongue is sharp and trouble seems to follow her, she also loves to dance around the issue, pushing her feelings away and replacing it with a witty joke instead. as if everyone does it the same way, as if everyone is supposed to understand. 

headcanons

- although she was tempted to change her own appearance many times. she never did because she is a coward and doesn’t trust her skills as much others might think she does.

- she views her ability as a form of art, perhaps that is also the reason she used to love to paint. honestly, she was never really good at it. average and above average with practice. her friend ( the dead one lmao ) used to paint with her whenever they could sneak away but with them gone, she doesn’t see a point in it anymore.

- she secretly envies the other grisha’s who can use their ability to fight. recently, she’d find herself trying to practice some punches so she doesn’t feel that useless in case of a dangerous situation. she also sucks at that so she’s probably in need of a training patner aka someone who is willing to train her or she has annoyed that much that they were willing to help her out ( wc ???)

- being personally trained by the darkling, one might assume that she’s loyal or even thankful towards the darkling. however, contrary is the case and she wouldn’t even grant him a dust particle of her trust. she doesn’t believe that he has the best interest of anyone in his heart and if she could, she’d probably spread rumors about him and telling others that he has some serious case of stanky breath.

wanted connections ( just some ideas, which can be changed ofc ! or some wcs can be connected ) 

(0/3) “blood is thicker water” friend group  : they pretty much grew up together. the death of their friend ( the friend needs a name - i swear...) caused tension within the group. while, one might have blamed vika for their death the other doesn’t and just wants them to be how they used to be. nevertheless, no one can deny that nothing was what it used to be). (( honestly these are just some ideas and we can plot wtv sddm )

training partner ( can be more than one ): connection mentioned in the hcs ! they help her a little out to become physically fit and level up her combat skills of -10. maybe they want something in return for it. help her out bcs they’re just nice or bcs vika annoyed the heck out of them etc.

person vika changed their friend’s appearance into: honestly we can do wtv with it. i just thought it’d be fun to play with the idea and having the person running around when they actually “died” and everyone belieed them to be dead until they found out that it was vika’s friend. might be angsty bcs it might remind vika of their friend.

angsty exes: listen, i love some angsty shit and i love to blame vika for all the problems. they might have dated before the whole dead friend fiasco happened. although, viktoriya acted as if she was fine after the incident ( which she wasn’t ),it only made muse a realize that vika and them weren’t as close as they believed and how much vika tied to hide from them.  BUT tbh anything would work i love a good angsty ex connection djddnd

random idea but i just liked the thought that this person once went to vika for some enhancing stuff. however, this day vika was not really herself, distracted, head in the clouds. so she accidenally might have gotten rid of some important scar or something.

enemies : lbr, vika might prbly be the type who has some enemies. she has no filter and might has stepped on someone toes because of it. (Also maybe gimme some enemies to lovers trope , adding this here quietly to not expose myself as a hoe for that trope )

HONESTLY GIVE ME EVERYTHING, gimme angst, fluff, tropes !!??? more friends, unusual friends, shippy stuff, platonic stuff, family connections djdsd GIMME 

[intro-v]

Debunking all anti-BB arguments because i only have so much tolerance(Edited with new extra content cause i still have little tolerance)

“BB isn’t beauty and the beast, stop stealing from t*uradonna shippers”

-The fact that yall want such a beautiful story to represent ya abusive ship is reason enough to reclaim “steal” it

Yang’s last name is “Little Dragon”, last i checked that dragons are pretty fucking beastly by concept alone

“Wings isn’t a BB song, stop stealing from M*nochr*me”

“Wings” is a song ABOUT Blake

It ain’t my fault yall are deaf to not think of Wings when you hear the verse “Help you spread your wings and fly” in “All that matters” and never once hear the word “Wing(s)” in a Weiss song

“Yin and Yang MUST mean man and woman, sorry wasps, E/clipse has that point, Yang means man in that regard”

Yang’s literal name is YANG, what kinda ancestery.com bullshit do you want. Also like shut the fuck up, y’all deny most of Sun’s Chinese influence, like fuck you guys are right in this regard

“The monkey king and the Bull demon king were supposed to fight, YANG STOLE SUN’S FIGHT WITH ADAM”

No she didn’t because Adam ain’t based on the bull demon king, if he was, it would’ve been mentioned a long ass time ago

“It could’ve been anyone going after Blake in the Fall of Beacon, Yang ain’t special”

Yang is the only member of RWBY with the most context of Adam 

Yang saw Blake drawing Adam in the cafeteria(Which is were Adam and Yang’s first encounter happened, so it was foreshadowing right from V2)

Blake was comparing and contrasting Yang to Adam in V3, Yang is smart enough to put two and two together that the guy she’s talking about must’ve the same person she was drawing

Yang literally shows up after Adam threatens Blake with “I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love[Yang shows up yelling for Blake, Adam notices Blake’s mortification]starting with her”

“Blake went to the dance with Sun, not with Yang”

She literally says “Technically, but my first dance is already spoken for” with a massive “Bitch i’m not here for you” tone of voice 

If it wasn’t for Yang she wouldn’t even be going to the dance, Sun asked her to the dance and Blake answers “No”

“Blake and Yang don’t even talk”

This hour long video says otherwise

And the storyline in V4, which y’all worship as the E/clipse bible is barely half the length

“Blake blushed at Sun, never at Yang”

If someone did a stupid dance and then winked and pointed at me, i’d be red with embarrassment too 

Ruby blushed at Emerald...does that mean they’re canon?(If you ship it that’s dope)

Blake never mention Yang while in Menagerie 

In the intro of V4 Blake looks off to the horizon and immediately transitions to Yang

When Sun gets stabbed she’s fucking sobbing “no no no, not again” gee i wonder what recent event in life would make her say not again when a friend gets badly wounded by someone very close to her in the WF

Sun, the messiah himself mentions Yang when he mentions “I’d do it all again if it meant protecting you”, Sun is aware Yang lost her arm trying to protect Blake

Blake’s voice cracks when she mentions Yang when explaining why she left her team

Blake mentions Yang when saying what one word describes her teammates

“Oh yeah, Yang and Blake killing someone together, how romantic~”

Don’t start clowning, you all would be saying the same shit if Sun was in Yang’s position, quick ya bitchin

If you actually fucking ask an actual BB shipper they will tell you, that the moment is not romantic, it is an emotional moment they shared together. Not every BB moment is romantic 

Some of yall use the uncomfortable argument that Blake and Sun have as “Aw look, they’re acting like an old married couple”so shut the fuck up ya lunatics 

“Yang doesn’t care about Ruby and the team dynamic is ruined and imbalanced” 

We goin’ to ignore the fact that the “hur dur team dynamic” was already imbalanced because Ruby and Yang are sisters 

Yang doesn’t need to baby Ruby anymore she knows she can take care of herself since the fall of beacon when Blake said “She’s our leader, she can take care of herself” also like...siblings don’t stop loving and caring for each other when they have an s/o, if you actually think that you are flat out wrong

So Blake and Yang would “ruin the dynamic” but Sun and Blake would’t ruin RWBY and SSSN’s dynamic...That’s some double standard right there since two teams are being affected 

Are yall just gonna ignore how fucking scared she was when Ruby was face to face with Lenny? She was horrified and was reaching out for her...yall gon ignore that?...okay

Literally JNPR were dating amongst themselves...where are yall on that shit?, hell STRQ is the same thing...where are yall on that shit? Oh right its because this is between two main characters

“Blake is abusive”

Yall love painting Blake as the devil, despite her Sun slaps are a confirmed mistake, but yall don’t see a problem with Sun stalking simply because he had good intentions....okay fine, whatever

Yall think Blake ran away because it fun!? She thinks its all her fault, the last fucking thing she wants when thinking that is to be around her friends for what all she knows have a targets on their backs

Blake literally hates herself for leaving, she wants the others to hate her too

“BB STOLE ALL THE FAN CONTENT MAKERS!”

This is a you problem if you think this and you are really fucking dumb for thinking this

Have you thought that there is a reason why BB “””””Stole””””” all the fan content makers

“Wasps are so toxic!”

While i will not deny that there are some awful people in the Bee community 

But at the same time, the ones against BB aren’t free from that either. Yall go out and harass people for fucking years, yall are the ones who go and comment nasty shit on BB posts(and BB art posts), and are even passive aggressive towards BB shippers in the comment section of E/clipse art posts

“Sun would be so jealous and Yang should feel guilty!”

Sun is the same person who pinched Ilia as payback after getting stabbed...That boi doesn’t hold grudges, sorry you guys aren’t fooling anyone into thinking Sun would be the next Adam

“E/CLIPSE IS SO DEEP”

Yall immediately started to ship them once they made eye contact ONCE

Sun thinks Blake’s best feature is her being a faunus

Sun does not understand Blake, ONCE

Blake is constantly tired of Sun’s bullshit

“BLAKE GAVE SUN A PECK ON THE CHEEK”

-Camera angles/placement -setting -lighting 

“Adam is delusional him saying ‘What does she even see in you!?’ means nothing”

By that logic than Sun never went to school because Adam called him a classmate   

“Everything that happened between Blake and Yang happens between siblings and best friends all the time!”

If you stare at your sibling or family the way these two look at each other...seek help

And the all time “favorite”

“BB IS TOO FORCED”

Yes because a love triangle between generic twinky blond boy, rich prissy tsundere and blue sexist boy is TOTALLY not forced

Because immediate eye contact between boy and girl MUST mean they in love

If you watch the essays and watch the hour long BB movie you will see how its NOT forced

[uhkwaireeuhs]

My AHS fav’s characters

Edward Philippe Mott

Edward is one of my fav characters because I deal with severe social anxiety disorder every day myself. I’m diagnosed with it by a professional. Next to that, Edward loves art... and yes me too. He cried, literally screamed when he found out people have ruined his art. I would have done that too. When you mess with art, you mess with me, my soul, my everything. I’m very passionate about it. Art is the thing I love the most, it means so much to me. Words can’t explain what art means to me. Nothing nor no one will steal the place of art, art is my number one priority. 

Tate Langdon

I know plenty of people who hate Tate, because he killed an innocent gay couple, murdered some kids from a high school when he reached his breaking point. Even raped the mother of his girlfriend Violet. In season 8 of AHS you see that Tate was used by the house as a puppet. I already saw that by just watching the first season, he wasn’t a born psychopath he was a sociopath. He didn’t get diagnosed correctly by Ben Harmon. Psychopaths are born, sociopaths are created. Tate had a really bad childhood, Constance told Tate that his dad has run away when he was young. He discovered that Constance has murdered her husband. Which made him feel sick. Sadly we never saw Tate’s dad in the murder house as a ghost. Constance has definitely emotional abused and emotionally neglected him from a young age. Also, some physical abuse, when Constance found out Tate has raped Vivien Harmon and perhaps in some other situations before. The backstory of Tate is very interesting, he felt no empathy until he met Violet. He felt for a long time so numb, next to that he didn’t know what he needed to do with his feelings. On an emotional level I relate to Tate, I’m not going to say exactly what ‘cause, not the whole internet needs to know my deepest wounds AND NO I DIDN’T DO A SCHOOL SHOOTING or kill any people in particular. 

Maggie Esmerelda

Maggie was an orphan. She was taken under the wing from Stanley when she was caught stealing. She became his partner in crime (not romantically) due Maggie was at a young age and Stanley is homosexual. Maggie meets Jimmy and tells him she is a fortune teller, then Jimmy takes Maggie to Elsa and Maggie puts her crystal ball on the table. She tells Elsa about her future fame, that a strange man will help her achieve this. Elsa, who is craving the attention, hires Maggie for the show. Maggie reads the future of Elsa, such as I read people their personality, even childhood/future career by their natal chart. Yes, Maggie has done terrible things, such as killing Ma Petite. More because Maggie got pushed by Stanley to do such things, deep inside she has a good heart. After some time, Maggie sees the lobster claw hands from Jimmy in a jar, which was cut off by Stanley and sold to a museum so he could afford a lawyer. Maggie thinks Jimmy is dead and faints.  Maggie tries to reconcile with Jimmy after his hands are cut off by Stanley. He doesn't accept her apology. Maggie got killed by Chester when she offered him to help with his act, she wanted to make things right, with everyone around her. The freaks who saw it just didn’t even care and tried to stop Chester from killing Maggie. Which was heartless. When Jimmy heard that Maggie was dead, he didn’t give any fucks. The scene of Maggie her death made me tear up. 

Twisty the Clown

Twisty is also in freak show such as Maggie Esmerelda. Although when we first met Twisty in the season, he was just killing innocent people. When we got a  deeper view of Twisty his backstory, I immediately fell in love with him. He didn’t get accepted by other people, which I can relate to on a personal level because I have been bullied in the past years and well I felt quite alone around that time. It gave Twisty serious mental health problems and he got angry at everyone. He tried to commit suicide, and thank god he didn’t succeed. Although now his mouth is badly damaged, he was definitely a great character. He even came back in season 7 of AHS. 

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Ally has a big phobia for clowns and it gives so much impact on her life. She went grocery shopping and say clowns in her imagination. Due to that, she had severe panic/anxiety attacks which I can relate to. I also have panic/anxiety attacks of social situations so I could feel how terrifying it has been for her. 

Benjamin Richter

I love the characters portrayed by actor John Carroll Lynch. Benjamin Richter, also known as Mr. Jingles is a character in season 1984. Benjamin became friends with Margaret who framed him for the massacre of nine campers and collecting their severed ears as souvenirs. Benjamin got trapped in an asylum and faked his own suicide, then he escaped and went back to Camp Redwood. Benjamin has a brother named Bobby when they were young Bobby died. His head was sliced with an outboard mother. Benjamin was supposed to watch after Bobby but he got distracted. When his mother, Lavinia found out of Bobby’s death, she screamed at Benjamin and told it was all his fault. His brother Bobby has always been the number one priority of his mother, the better brother. Later Benjamin has a child and named him after his brother. Because his mom and brother both died in Camp Redwood and became ghosts, he committed suicide where his brother has died. His backstory was very good and that is why he is my fav character from AHS season 9. 

[cum-a-calla]

this one's a doozy :))) commission for a cannibal lover. thank you so much for letting me take my time with this one

inside: cannibalism, dismemberment, implied death threats, knotting, fearplay, bloodplay, licking, pain, biting, too many teeth, and a some body horror

..

Work must be done.

Silas drives through the quiet, dark night. No stars – full dark. It brings a familiar thought loop to the forefront of his mind, occupying him through the same tired route he drives all too often now, cruising through the quaint neighborhoods of Derry. It’s so white-picket-fence, so stuck in a period long gone. Frozen in time. It feels slower inside the city limits, like the place is oozing along out of some strange spite. Refusing to die, refusing to acclimate to… what? To time, to reality?

[[MORE]]

And this is Silas’ reality. He glances furtively in the corn fields, knowing he won’t see anything worse than where he’s headed – namely, who he’s off to meet. Something kind of like him, something rotten, a thing that makes its way furtively into the night to hunt, to eat. It’s a lonely business, the feeding; Silas tightens his grip on the steering wheel and swallows past the throbbing lump in his throat, exhilarated and scared absolutely shitless.

The turn on to Neibolt Street is like looking down the barrel of a gun. He pulls up to the old house, the eyesore of the town, and kills the engine. He lingers suspended between two worlds, like he won’t be able to budge from the front seat; it feels impossible, tethered between his hunger and his fear. Garbage bags wait quietly in the backseat, promising him everything he wants the most. Hunger always wins.

It takes three trips, but each run gets a little easier, a little more natural to traverse the decaying structure, to be a little less startled by things hiding in the corners. Sometimes he does that. Does it to test him, he assumes – strange faces behind doorways, running shadows. Garbled languages that make his ears burn. He avoids two Things this time, a slimy, creeping thing in the hallway that he has to steel himself for, staring straight ahead. It won’t hurt me. Just an extension of it. Just him, just a trick. The thing cackles at him in clicks, slithering around his ankles before bounding off in the opposite direction, limbs crackling.

“Pennywise?”

Silas’ voice echoes down by the mouth of the well. Peering down there offers nothing in the way of the clown’s location, and after a few moments of shifty waiting, he decides to begin opening the bags. The smell is strong. It hits him and he weathers the initial recoil, patient as his noses adjusts and his stomach aches for it. His heart beats a little faster, blood rushing through his veins hot as the twitch between his legs. It’s the headiest scent of all, the smell of somebody once they’ve been opened up. That deep, dark scent, the wildest game. Not so wild in several pieces. Not so wild at all.

Silas pulls limbs, innards, a torso. A badly damaged head and a head he’s been storing in a freezer, the body already used up and done away with. It still feels cold. Silas strokes the ratty, blood-crusted hair, the frozen lips. It almost feels sad to set it down, to complete the cycle of that relationship, knowing exactly what Pennywise is going to do to it. Fingers trembling, he removes his hands from the head, forces himself to pay special attention to the damaged one. The jawbone hangs by threads of mangled meat, fine chunks of bone stark in their whiteness. It was an accident. He doesn’t like to damage the heads too much; it feels… disrespectful. Not a true form. He runs the pad of his finger along the teeth, poking into several of the gaps.

He spreads things out in piles – things to be worked on, things that are easiest to prep for consumption. Things he keeps special for himself. There are parts he saves specifically for Pennywise, now, things he largely considers inconsumable – bones, gristle, parts with lots of fat or cartilage. Nothing he feels like wrapping up for home.

He rises up from the floor, already feeling those strong stirrings in his gut. The sensation of all that dull, chilled flesh under his hands makes him throb, and he steadies himself against the edge of the well on the way to grab his tools. They rest in their new home, in the relative safety of this cursed house, knives, cleavers, a hacksaw, clips. Scissors. Butcher paper, twine. A bevy of instruments dedicated to his desire, just as important as the people they part open for him. One big, warm, blissfully wet cycle. Ouroboros. He drags tools back to the parts arranged lovingly around the well, the thrill of his busy night flushing his cheeks.

It boils down to pure, naked effort and routine. There’s an art to it, a beauty in order, in realizing the big picture as well as the tiny parts that make it all up. There are sinews and curves and angles, tricks in which to properly trim the meat. Slowly, he builds stacks of cuts. There’s a pile of offal for the creature. He arranges it closest to the well, next to various other undesirable parts. It takes the better part of hours, takes diligence and every last nerve to survive the dimness, the anxiety of waiting, wondering.  

When Pennywise shows up, he peeks from over the edge. It startles Silas, rips a gasp from his lips as he locks eyes with it.

“Scared the fucking shit out of me,” he mutters. He stays silent, stays behind the lip of the well where he watches intently. Every single move Silas makes, he feels the weight of Pennywise’s gaze, the sheer focus laced with hunger. At least he’s not alone in this hellhole. At least the wait is over, the growing panic like fire licking up through his guts. The clown sits (floats. It floats) in the well and hums occasionally, as if in approval, in excitement. It awakens that spark again in Silas, heat prickling just under his skin. The combination of the heads, the loving way he handles each parcel of cold flesh, the blinkless gaze of a monster who allows him sanctuary, who wants to watch… it’s intoxicating. He draws a shaky breath and continues his task.  

Out from the well, one long, long arm reaches out. Fingers sprawl like a spider, huge, five pale legs skittering around until they close over a jawbone, the jawbone, barely attached to the rest of the head. The newest head. A pang of anger makes his throat close up – but not before a single, stern syllable leaves his lips.

“No.”

Silas licks his own fingers off and rolls that flavor around his tongue as Pennywise rises up like some demented god from the well. The glow of his eyes lights up the room, orange as a sunset in hell. Isn’t that where he is, anyway? Those eyes ground him as the creature towers, hulks over Silas’ seated form on the filthy ground. He snatches the head up, fingers hooked through the jaw, and unhinges his face until the flesh pulls back, tight and shiny and white as clay, and sinks his sharkteeth into the parietal and occipital lobes. Skull fragments shoot from his mouth like shrapnel and soft, pink, gelatinous meat dribbles down his face.

Pennywise grunts as he sends the remainder of the skull sailing to the ground, where it explodes. Flecks of gray-pink meat spray over Silas’ shirt, over the other cuts of meat, limbs ready to be stripped and treated with care. He bows low, nostrils flaring, nose crinkling into a snarl, and those teeth multiply by the second. They jut out of his face as he licks his lips, swallows.

The clown smiles, eyebrows lifting. He gives Silas a jaunty little shake, tiny bells jingling in the ruffles.

“Sorry, Silas, I don’t think I heard ya! Go on… say it again.”

Silas falters, mustering all his focus on keeping still as the creature looming over him comes close enough to rub noses, and he does. He nuzzles slowly into it like they’re lovers, and he clucks his tongue as Silas chokes on his own voice. No words come, and again the clown laughs.

“Oooohhh, sweet Silas, are you jealous?” It chuckles and Silas tastes the thing’s breath, rancid, spoilt over centuries. It’s intoxicating, it feels like tasting death itself, and Silas almost leans into it, curious about a flavor of death and decay he hasn’t tasted yet. “Don’t like me playing with your toys?”

“They’re not toys, they’re people.”

“Food.” He comes away from Silas with a grin. “Not people. Just meat. Do you like to fuck the meat, Silas? Do you love the meat?”

Silas reels, anger black as the night racing up the column of his spine, indignant, mingling with his fear like acid in the back of his throat. Cheeks burning, he takes a breath, tries to contain it before it gets him killed. Pennywise snatches the other head and Silas reaches out, tries to snatch it back.

Pennywise howls, keeping the body part easily out of his reach, like a child’s game. He runs his tongue over the face and sips Silas’ shaking rage like a cocktail.

“It’s not just meat, it’s – I don’t fucking know, just please… can you just –”

“– be nice?”

Silas huffs, up on his feet. Nothing can save him if Pennywise decides he’s being disobedient or meddlesome. He stands in the face of that knowledge, limbs seized by his immediate sense of danger, and he wonders faintly if this is it, if this is really fucking it, and buried underneath absolute existential dread is the disappointment that he didn’t get to truly taste his last victim.

Pennywise opens his mouth and his face comes apart. Bones crackle as they rearrange and grow new paths, marrow knitting itself over and over, teeth chittering into being, and he sends the entire head down into his glowing gullet. It’s like snakes eating eggs. The morbid lump travels down the throat, distending his flesh and bulging it through with veins, until it’s absorbed and crushed inside his ribcage, and finally those awful jaws come back together. It crunches, grinds against itself until he’s wearing that familiar, dripping sneer, face unbearably whole again. He comes so close, but this time he doesn’t bow. He’s solid, radiating heat and frothing pink-red at the mouth.

“Do you want me to be nice, Silas?” His voice comes, like the whisper of dry leaves on asphalt, like creaking hinges. His lips remain still. “Do you want me to be so nice?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah? Want me to be as nice as you are with these… things?”

“They’re not things –”

“Do you like the feeling of them inside you?”

Silas can’t remember how to breathe. His lungs simply quit, too stunned, stomach lurching like he’s been punched. The clown giggles, dropping to its haunches and rocking on his feet. He clutches a fillet knife like it could ever harm the creature in front of him. His mouth works up and down several times before his brain sends the correct signals, misfire after misfire, and, finally, Silas utters a pained yes.

Pennywise pushes a long, gloved finger between Silas’ lips. The whine that surrounds that finger is enough to set his guts on fire, and there’s a shift in the light deep in those endless pits. The light back there dances. It’s calming, it makes his eyeballs tingle the longer he tries to find it in there, to see it a little more, see if it changes.

“You like them?”

“Yes…”

The fabric of the glove presses down on Silas’ tongue. Pennywise grasps him there, fingertip digging into the fleshy center, thumb up under the shelf of his jaw, and he tips Silas’ head back until his throat is vulnerable, a landscape waiting to be explored by teeth. No teeth come; instead, Pennywise leans in, nose tickling over his pulse, and inhales. He sniffs at Silas like an animal, like Silas is a meal, and the prospect is not only horrifying but irresistible. He all but leans into it.

“I like you, pretty boy. Like your scent. Like the stink of you here.”

The clown’s other hand cups Silas between the thighs, engorged cock trapped under his palm. The pressure is sharp, it makes Silas jump and whine.

“Oh, you like it? You want me inside of you, sweet boy? Are you hungry for me, too?”

Oh my god. That’s what he says, but it comes out garbled, clipped off, caught around Pennywise’s fingers. The clown titters and there’s a sound that makes Silas’ stomach clench and roil, a sound not unlike ripping meat. It’s wet and violent, and then there are teeth on his throat. They sink slowly, so slowly that he can hear the little pops as they break skin and razor under his flesh. They settle for barely a moment before there’s a sickening squelch and Pennywise rears back, licking the blood off his lips, and his brow knits together. He cocks his head and pouts, smiles, pouts again.

“Poor creature. I know it hurts, hurts so much. Heeere…”

Impossibly long, slithering over his throat until it wraps all the way around, Pennywise’s tongue drags over the wounds. It’s like a worm, like a writhing pink leech. It pulses and squeezes and soaks in his blood, the creature behind it moaning, eyes rolling wetly up into its skull. There are veins there, too, tiny spiderlike trails that thread his eyeballs as well as his thick tongue. It contracts around his neck until Silas is wheezing for air. The constriction sends a wave of electricity down between his legs, and he rocks into Pennywise’s outstretched palm like he’s offering himself, offering everything up, anything, just to keep feeling this.

His tongue slides back behind his teeth and Silas keeps rocking, burying his hands into the ruffles at the neck of the alien’s costume.

“I know what you need, Silas. I know you’re hungry.” He smooths his gloved hands away from where Silas is burning hot, digs his fingers into the fabric of his pants and RIPS. The force of it pushes him back, makes him prone below the towering clown. “So wet already. Messy, messy boy. Does it feel so good, taking apart your little friends, your meals? You want me to take you apart, S i l a s? Nice and slow, turn you inside out.”

“Fuck.” Silas allows the clown to spread his legs, push his thighs apart til they burn with effort, til he’s shaking, whimpering, arching up to try to catch Pennywise’s lips against his. He wants to taste his own blood, taste the fatal chasm of the monster’s mouth. “Please. I… I want that, all of that, anything…”

“Mmh, eager, aren’t you? Wanna be touched so bad. Wanna be fucked. Tell me. Tell me, brave little thing, tell me what you need.”

Silas begins to speak, but the words falter and tremble into more of those little, pitiful whines, watching Pennywise shift and change and buck his hips forward with an unmistakable bulge inside the pleats of his outfit. It throbs like a heartbeat, like Silas can somehow feel it inside his body, intimate as his own blood pressure. His body works overtime to get the blood anywhere but that engorged place between his legs, screaming for attention, slick and parted and exposing how swollen he is. Pennywise nudges with his fingers, teases. Nothing is enough.

“I didn’t hear that. Try again.”

Pennywise is less clown and more creature. He shreds his own costume, sheds it like a skin that’s grown too tight, too restrictive, and the scarred flesh around his ribcage ripples. It grows lumps, disgusting masses of flesh that squirm between muscle and bone until the structure is different. They split his skin and blood like tar pours from the open wounds, black and viscous, bones shredding through stark-white until there’s meat wrapping around them, lengthening, whipping mindlessly around until their form becomes clear. Rubbery flesh chases up the newly formed limbs, extra arms, fingers sprouting from the stumps of raw sinew until there are more hands to use, more fingers to dig into Silas’ yielding flesh. They go to work immediately, sliding up his shirt to touch his belly, his chest, between his thighs where he’s so painfully ready.

“Please be inside me, l-like the others, please… let me… taste you.”

No sooner does he admit his need does Pennywise comply. Freshly formed fingers shove past his lips and teeth and near the back of his tongue, ready to make him gag. Silas holds out til his eyes water, til his throat itches to swallow and sputter, but if there’s anything he’s good at, it’s handling things in his mouth that shouldn’t be.

“Oh, I will be. I’ll be inside you, big boy. You’ll thank me, oh, you’ll SING for it. You’ll SCREAM and BEG for me to leave you empty again, yes you will!”

Incoherent curses drip around Pennywise’s new fingers, stuffed so neatly in that obedient mouth, and his prehensile dick comes free. It wriggles against Silas, nudges at his own wet cock and the secret, tight place underneath. Pennywise watches Silas drool around his fingers and he matches him, jaw hanging open a little too wide, a little too toothy, like his entire face might split in a mess of bleeding gum and teeth, and Silas wriggles down. He pushes against a cock too big, too molten hot to ever be able to actually fit inside of him, and yet, with each soft rut of Pennywise’s hips, it seems a little more tangible. The alien cock writhes just like Silas does. It’s textured, lined and grooved and covered in tiny bumps that don’t seem to stay fixed to any one area. Everything changes as it pleases. It curves up over where Silas wants him without actually pushing inside – until he does.

Searing. His eyes fly wide open and they’re almost as wide as the clown’s, glowing like dying embers back in his massive skull, and Silas wonders if he can’t just burst into flames like those dancing lights. Might just fly with them, might float into Pennywise and become weightless, become eternal. There’s a continuation there, a loop of thought as the monster traces the places behind Silas’ teeth and thrusts between his thighs, that he wants to be the one inside of somebody else, wants to sink into Pennywise much the same way as Pennywise sinks into him, but more. The call of the void screeches through his head like tinnitus.

“Look at you. Look at you spread open, like a treat, a treat just for me.” Claws slash at him, into his belly, across his thighs, and Pennywise makes a sound deep in his frame that awakens a fear previously dormant in Silas’ blood. It courses through him like a warning through time as Pennywise makes those sounds, like clicking, like broken radio transmission and scuttling leaves, like snapping mandibles. It sounds like it’ll burst out of the beast’s body and then it’s everywhere, in the walls, vibrating up through the ground, leaking out of each pore. The clown moans, he drags that nasty tongue up Silas’ belly and seeks out all those shiny new gashes. “Let me take care of that – oh, you hurtin’ for me? Good boys hurt. Good boys let me fill them aalll the way UP!”

Pennywise bottoms out into Silas. His squirming, shifting cock practically spills out of him, there’s just nowhere else to go. Silas’ body aches, it clenches down on the monstrous thing inside of him until he can feel the butterfly pulse of his own climax creeping toward the surface. Above him, jaws come apart, snap together inches from his face, and he shudders with boiling heat. Everything is wet. Each little jerk and throb strikes an exquisitely primal fear in Silas that maybe he’s serious this time; maybe he’ll finally take what’s his and then consume him. Maybe he’ll slide into the tight, hot squeeze of the thing’s gullet, feel all that trembling flesh and meat closing in around him, like he’s done so many times himself with others’ bodies. The mental image is made all the more vivid by Pennywise’s gaping maw, studded far too full of teeth. They jut out from his bleeding ridges of gum and the back of his throat seems to stretch forever, to some unseen point where there’s a glow not unlike his eyes. This one’s a little prettier, though. This one makes his guts squeeze down, and for a moment, it feels like the cock inside of him is a little thicker.

“Feeling a little afraid? Been so good at taking it that you’ve forgotten what I can REALLY do to you.” Fingers crawl all over Silas, crawl over his ribs and at his waist and at the apex of his thighs, right above where he’s slowly, agonizingly fucked apart. Fingers stroke. He’s so slippery already that it’s barely begun and he can feel the wringing of pressure in every single nerve, the last, final tensing before he feels like he might lift weightlessly off the floor. “Doing so well, sweet boy. Show me just how much you need it, come on. Show me you can take it all.”

“I am,” Silas grunts. He’s panting, delirious with it, bouncing down mindlessly against the clown til he’s flush. The pain seems like an idea, existing and not existing at all. “I am, I can, I am… can – fuck! – can feel all of you.”

“Oh! Can you?”

Under Pennywise’s cruel laughter, under the dripping, toxic drool, the teeth crowding his sneer, Silas bucks against him and against his talented hands, stroking even after the waves are coursing outward from his belly all the way to his toes, the backs of his eyelids gone a horrible shade of bright orange before they’re white. It’s like being washed in stars. His muscles ebb and flow, constrict and contract, and through it all, Pennywise feels painful.

Each second lends to the explosion of his climax, dick pulsing with each aftershock. Underneath that, the clown grows. He barely moves, content to grab at Silas and tease him well past the peak of his orgasm, as deep as he can safely go, but… he inflates.

The base of his cock grows, stretching Silas out until it aches. It swells up against a particularly sensitive patch of flesh and forces a new, miserable kind of pleasure into him. It’s too much too soon. It hurts, it feels like fucking fire, it feels like he’s in a (sunset)

“Guess you can take it all, big boy.”

He rocks his body only slightly and then his eyes roll up to the threaded whites, blood welling in his lids and leaking down over his cheeks like the very vessels in his face can’t stand to hold it in, either. He erupts inside of Silas, fills him, pumps his cum into him with his cock knotted nice and tight inside. Trapped. Every single nail digs into Silas as Pennywise cums, growling, gasping, grunting like an animal. He leans down to nuzzle his bleeding face into his captive’s throat, tucked in the nape of his neck, and he breathes a giggle and smells him, licks him.

“Gunna keep coming back? Come a’callin?”

He nips at him, licks the soft little wounds like candy. He jerks his hips back and mocks the pitiful sounds coming from Silas.

“Poor thing. Pooooooor thing. Here. Let me make it better.”

Pennywise tugs against the lock of their bodies, pulling until Silas is nearly sobbing and incomprehensible before he opens his jaws and that tongue pours out of him like some monstrous new organ, slimy and dripping and hot as it slides around his captive’s dick. It feels far too soon. It feels like an impossibility, even with the delicious feeling of all that seed seeping out of him, coating him, body covered in a sticky film of saliva and blood and cum. That tongue brings him off again so quickly it leaves his head spinning, ears plugging up and voiding out until it feels like there are thick wads of cotton in them. It comes back slowly, returning on the edge of a high-pitched whine.

Finally, there’s a sense of relief, of deflation, and the eventual removal. The satisfaction of being so empty again is almost as good as the act itself. He lay spent on the floor, sprawled out and enjoying the near-doze of recuperation. Distantly, he knows there’s a job to finish. Things to take apart, to package. Things to feed the monster above him, whose limbs crack and snap and twitch as they’re absorbed back into his body. He looks like a spider, some psychotic arachnoid going through a reverse molt.

“Was it nice, Silas?” Pennywise smirks, lapping blood from his mouth, from his fingers. “Nice and full?”

“Yes.”

He laughs low, under unsteady breath like winds through the gallows, and the room gets a little colder, a little darker. The clown nods at the piles of meat, the spare parts. He winks, taking a bow, and perches on the edge of the well. Waiting. Watching. Expectant and free of distraction, free of the growing tension. Silas squirms where he sits, perversely happy to feel it there, feel the parts of him painted thick with its seed. Those parts tingle, they warm him and make his skin crawl in the most pleasant way.

Back to work.

[apprenticemcthot]

Apprentice April

no one asked for this but I wanted to write more about my boy so I answered all 20 questions for #ApprenticeApril

1. The Basics.  What is your character’s name?  How old are they?  How tall are they?  Skin color?  Eye color?  Hair color?  Gender identification?

Patleayegan, from the Nahuatl patlea (medicine) and yegan (guide). Though he goes mostly by PJ because he had a hard time remembering his own name when Asra had to teach him to speak again after coming back to life. The “y” is actually pronounced as a “j”, so PJ stems from the syllables (Patlea-Jegan).Asra began calling him that instead, and the nickname stuck. 

late 20′s, around Asra’s age

5′2″ (158 cm), he comes from a long lineage of shorties

brown skin, brown eyes, brown hair ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he/him pronouns, but as someone who was taught by Asra, he has no regard for gender

2.  Love Interest.  Who does your character love?  What attracted them to that particular LI?

Julian. He actually had a slight crush on him when he apprenticed for him during the plague. that crush carried over 3 years after when the two met again.  At first, his looks were certainly a factor. but once they got to know each other, Julian’s incredible irony of being both a flirt and easily flustered amused PJ

For all the other Love Interests, I use an MC named Naz (they/them)

3. Familiar.  Does your character have a familiar?  How did they meet?

his dear Tlahtoani. Toani for short. he’s a white Cairn Terrier. They met when PJ was about 6, wandering around the streets. He found Toani looking for food scraps and took him home, fed him, and fell in love with the little ball of mayhem

4. Hobbies.  What kinds of things does your character like to do for fun?

Literature. He loves to read. when he came back to life, Asra taught him how to speak again by reading to him. eventually, PJ fell in love with literature. prose and poetry alike. he loves to write love letters to Julian. 

5. Hidden talents.  Is there something neat that your character can do?  Tie a cherry stem into a knot with their tongue?  Say any word backwards perfectly?

Lingustics. He’s very good with languages. once he re-learned the Vesuvian language post-plague, he didn’t stop there. he’s fluent in 3 languages and can hold a simple conversation in 5. can read 3 different types of alphabets. has a talent for pronunciation. oh, he’s also pretty acrobatic. 

6. Magical talents.  Is there a specific type of magic that your character excels at?  Any magic they aren’t so great at?  Or do they actually shy away from magic altogether?

Fire Magic. He’s best at magic that involves the elements, but as someone who tends to have strong emotions, he’s the best at using fire. Almost burned down the shop the first time he tried it with Asra post-plague 

His family specialised in healing magic (hence his name) but he was never able to live up to his parent’s expectations. He prefers to use potions and herbs rather than his energy to heal. Asra taught him almost everything he knows about being a healer.

7. Interaction.  How does your character typically interact with people?

polite boi in the streets, shady bitch in the sheets. He’s tends to carry an air of confidence and professionalism when talking to people he’s just met, especially those of higher social status. Likes to be kind to strangers. But once you get past that layer of chill, he is an absolute savage when it comes to come back. Will call his friends “foolish whores” as a term of endearment.  

8. Romance.  What is something that your character and their LI love to do together?  How do they show affection?

Sleep together! not only in the sexy kind of way but also in the literal sense. Can and will cuddle with Julian for hours on end on any furniture in the shop. 

Love letters. because of their work schedules, if PJ can’t spend his morning with Julian, he’ll write him little love notes and have Malak deliver them to him. 

9. Travel.  Does your character like to travel outside of Vesuvia?  How often?  For how long?  What kinds of things do they do away from home?

Would love to travel the world but hasn’t found the time. It was his parents who did most of the traveling while he stayed behind in Vesuvia to watch the shop. Though after meeting Julian, the two have gone on their fair share of trips that were nothing short of honeymoon-like wink wink

10. WTF.  Has anything just…weird ever happened to your character?  Something that made them stop and go “What just happened?!”

well, apart from being brought back from the dead

lose things. he tends to misplace things quite often only for them to reappear months later. At first he thought it was Faust or maybe even the stove salamander hoarding his trinkets but turns out the shop itself has magic and it tends to be pretty mischievous 

11. Crime.  Has your character ever been arrested?  If so, what did they do?  Have they ever helped stop a crime?

other than buying illegal ingredients from the Red Market, he has no desire to break the law, especially if it means Nadia will be disappointed in him

12. Secrets.  What is a secret that your character has?  Are they in line for the throne in a far off land?  Was there this one time at band camp…?  Are they secretly involved in an assassin’s guild?

He’s actually AFAB but was able to change his body into something more affirming at an early age with the help of his parents who were Vesuvia’s best healer magicians at the time. (Though there was nothing they could do about his meager height)

He’s not exactly hiding this part of his past but he has spent the vast majority of his life in a body that is true to his identity that he often forgets about the body he was born in. In fact, it was Asra that had to explain this part of his past to him post-plague 

13. Overcompensation.  Is there something that your character just HAS to do better than anyone else?  Or are they just that dang good without trying?  If they see someone else showing off, what is their kneejerk reaction?

Has a tragic case of the Napoleon Complex in that he compensates for his lack of height with a pretty big attitude. Has the confidence of a dragon and the body of a lizard. Would rather climb over counters than have someone taller hand him something he can’t reach

also thinks he’s a good drinker but is a complete lightweight because of his small body

14. Fight Club.  Is your character a good fighter?  What kind of skills do they have?

Rutheless. He’s never killed anyone but had he been a gladiator, he would’ve absolutely destroyed his opponents. Again, his emotions heavily influence his fire magic, so he’s able to burn someone pretty badly if he finds himself angry/determined enough

Can and will cut a bitch during a bar fight. Not afraid to fight dirty. Skilled at hand-to-hand combat but prefers to use weapons. 

15. The Arts.  Is your character a creative type?  What kinds of things can they create?  Can they act?  Street perform?

Really good visual artist (loves to paint and do sculptures), even better writer. Mediocre actor compared to Julian, so he prefers to write scenes and have Julian act them out

16. Goofy.  Is your character a clown?  Do they like to make people laugh?

More of a jokester than a clown really, though he’s really good at throwing shade (he learned from the best)

17. Language.  Is your character multilingual?  How many languages do they speak?  Do they have an accent?  Is it sexy?  Is it silly?  Do they have a multilingual lisp?

Bilingual, though he can read and understand a number of other languages. When speaking Vesuvian, dear darling boy has an accent that is the result of a bastardisation of all the languages he has encountered and picked up throughout the years. He has an accent most commonly see in people from the Western lands as that’s where his mother tongue originated. 

In modern terms, his accent sounds like a grotesque combination of accents from Manchester, Brooklyn and Mexico 

18. Embarrassment.  What is something really embarrassing that your character has done/said?

Drunken stories. Doesn’t remember this himself, but before the plague PJ would so some pretty reckless and hilarious things whenever him and Asra would drink. 

Julian has come to find that PJ still is a daredevil drunk

he did a backflip on top of a table at the Rowdy Raven and broke the table in half

19. Memory.  Has your character gotten any of their memory back?  If so, what?  Did it change them?

Kind of. Most of what he knows about his past come from Asra telling him stories. barely remembers his family but is fine with it as he considers the other characters his family. 

He sometimes gets small flashback of his childhood when he was about 6 or 7, but it’s mostly just images of him practicing magic

the most cherished memory he gained was that of his familiar Toani when they first met.

20. Family.  Talk about your character’s family.  Who were they?

In modern terms, his has Aztec heritage

His family comes from the West, though his parents moved to Vesuvia to start up what is now the magic shop

a long lineage of healer magicians 

Had two siblings but both died alongside his parents during the plague.

Doesn’t know if he has any extended family, though Asra thinks that he might have some uncles and aunts left back West

[aegon]

okay, I know I’ve mentioned it before that I find the criticisms of ‘joker’ very shallow and misleading - but this is the top review on rotten tomatoes...

...and I feel the need to repeat myself again. This isn’t the only one of its kind, but it’s the most popular I’ve seen. Every media outlet has written about a similar topic in some shape or form.

So I’ve read the article, hidden behind a paywall as it is, and I take serious issue with the damaging message the author took from the film. I’ve copied the article bit by bit because I’m so fucking irritated by it.

For it is essentially a depiction of what happens when white supremacy is left unchecked. It shows the delusions that many white men have about their place in society and the brutality that can result when that place is denied.

Arthur Fleck doesn’t want to be treated better because of the colour of his skin. He doesn’t ask for help because he feels he’s superior to the POC around him. He needs help because he’s ill and no one cares. The film is a criticism of austerity and classism, and the unsympathetic arrogance of those in more fortunate positions than others. It’s also, more importantly, about how all this affects a mentally ill loner with a history of childhood abuse and living in poverty.

It has nothing to do with his race. The author’s words imply that a white person in such a desperate situation is only seeking to affirm their own supremacy. That’s....so fucked up. Mental illness isn’t some tool to be used in a race war, it hurts anyone. He’s dismissing the experiences of a man who happens to be white because he can’t see beyond the colour of his skin. Doesn’t that sound like exactly the kind of thing POC have been fighting against for decades, if not centuries?

The fact that the Joker is a white man is central to the film’s plot. A black man in Gotham City (really, New York) in 1981 suffering from the same mysterious mental illnesses as Fleck would be homeless and invisible. He wouldn’t be turned into a public figure who could incite an entire city to rise up against the wealthy. Black men dealing with Fleck’s conditions are often cast aside by society, ending up on the streets or in jail, as studies have shown.

And though Fleck says he often feels invisible, had he been black, he truly would have been — except, of course, when he came into contact with the police.

Arthur is invisible. It’s painfully obvious that he is. He incites a movement because of what he symbolises and the way Thomas Wayne dismissed people like him. When he murdered the three rich boys on the subway, only his clown makeup was identified. The police weren’t looking for a man of any specific colour, they were looking for a fucking clown.

Arthur could have been black, brown, red or blue. The face behind the mask doesn’t matter, because Gotham City united behind the icon of resistance. It’s supposed to be ironic. The only way Arthur felt seen was when he was under his mask. Nobody cared about Arthur Fleck, they cared about the Joker.

So yes, had Arthur been a black man, he’d still become the symbol of resistance.

Though Fleck is pursued and investigated by Gotham’s finest, his whiteness acts as a force field, protecting him as he engages in the violent acts of the latter half of the film. Consider his appearance on the live talk show hosted by Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro). A black man acting as strangely as Fleck does would not have been allowed to go on the air. But the white Fleck is given access, and bloodshed soon follows.

I mean, in regards to how strangely he was acting, the reason they invited him to the show was because they thought he was a freak. They wanted him to make a fool of himself. Also Murray’s producer never wanted him on the air, but Murray insisted because he was more concerned with viewership. Again - that’s the fucking point. Murray was far too invested in his own self-interest to see a man dangerously close to snapping. The author completely glossed over that, and the producer who didn’t want Arthur, white skin and all.

Or look at how Fleck interacts with others. He is frequently in conversation with people who occupy a lower rung in society than he does: a state-appointed therapist he sees early on; a protective mother who chastises him for playing peekaboo with her son on the bus; his possible love interest, a neighbor who lives in the same building; and the psychiatrist he sees in Arkham Asylum. Every one of these characters is a black woman with whom he eventually has confrontations. Phillips consistently places Fleck in an oppositional or antagonistic position to these women.

I don’t know if this is intentional on Phillips’s part, but it is significant. When we learn that his relationship with the neighbor (played with artful restraint by Zazie Beetz) was merely a figment of his troubled imagination, the way he leaves the apartment implies that this realization has led Fleck to kill her and perhaps her child. After his final conversation with the Arkham doctor, his bloody footsteps suggest that he kills her as well.

A key fact the author conveniently ignores in his article is that Arthur never blames immigrants or POC for his misfortune. When he takes a beating at the hands of non-white kids at the start of his film, his colleague calls them “animals” (a common racist term for non-white folks) but Arthur insists they’re just kids. He sympathises with them, despite the fact they brutalised him, because he doesn’t see them as an ‘other.’

And I do think that’s why, crucially, most of the female characters are black women. Whether they occupy a lower rung of society than he does is debatable, because he’s constantly framed as being in the same situation as them. He’s as impacted by the austerity cuts as they are, he rides the bus as they do, he lives in the same shitty building as they do. To quote his therapist: “they don’t give a shit about you, and they don’t give a shit about me, either.”

Arthur doesn’t just have confrontations with them, he has an imaginary relationship with one. Whether he murders her or not is left ambiguous and up to the audience to decide her fate. We can’t say for sure that she’s dead, and that’s the theme of the entire film. We have no idea if anything is real or all in his head when he’s in the asylum.

And that’s the brilliant point.

Arthur’s world is dominated by black women because black women are one of the minorities most affected by institutional prejudice, facing discrimination for both their race and their gender. In 1970s America, they were some of the most invisible people around, ignored by the wealthy and powerful. So Arthur relates to them. 

Phillips’ decision to use black women offers a double message that they, too, are suffering under austerity and classism. This isn’t just a white lonesome man’s struggle, it’s a reality for black women everywhere. Arthur’s situation isn’t exceptional because your neighbour, your therapist, the woman on your bus with her kid - they’re all going through it without going on a murderous rampage. If you feel for Arthur’s plight, you feel for theirs too. It’s fucking brilliant.

As for why he has confrontations with them - he has confrontations with literally everyone. Literally everyone treats him badly. Again, that’s. the. point. Except for the black man at Arkham Asylum who tells him to go get help, who’s just doing his job and feels pity for Arthur. But hey, the author ignores that. 

Fleck kills white men because he cannot access their status and is ostracized by them, but his black female victims are so invisible that the film does not bother to show their deaths. We as viewers can and should take note of them.

Arthur killed the three white boys on the subway because they were beating the shit out of him for no other reason than him laughing. They were cruel and sadistic, and he’d just been fired from the job he loved so was on his last nerve. He killed his white ex-colleague for framing him and having the balls to still ask him to lie on his behalf so he could keep his job, when he had Arthur fired. He killed Murray for demeaning him and mocking his plight.

Every person killed on-screen was white. Every person killed on-screen was because Arthur felt they’d done him wrong. Zazie’s character is unconfirmed if dead. The psychiatrist at the asylum is implied to be dead, but Arthur’s transformation to the Joker is complete and it’s entirely possible that the act in itself demonstrates (after having sympathised with black women before) that Arthur’s sanity has cracked and his humanity has been replaced by the chaos of the Joker, who cares little for any life, even that of a marginalised minority he once related to.

There are other ways that whiteness informs Fleck’s character. He anticipates he’ll be treated as a son by the Wayne family, and assumes he’ll be given medical records just by asking the hospital orderly (played by the great Brian Tyree Henry). The privileges that come with Fleck’s race set him up for these unrealistic expectations. When they’re not met, the consequences are deadly.

It’s almost as if Arthur has no concept of reality and has little understanding of the way the world works and naively believes that things will just happen because he wants them to. It’s almost as if he has severe parental issues and was so desperate for a father, he even imagined Murray calling him the son he’d always wanted. It’s almost as if this has been established in the film multiple times.

Whiteness may not have been on the filmmakers’ minds when they made “Joker,” but it is the hidden accomplice that fosters the violence onscreen.

Let’s take a film that offers a brutal outlook on the impact of mental illness on one’s psyche and sanity and demean the entire message, important as it is, and try to steer a much needed conversation on mental health towards something that doesn’t concern it. As a POC, I find articles like this so, so damaging to the fight against racism.

It essentially weakens our arguments and offers ammunition to those that believe POC just hate white people for no other reason than, “ur white and I don’t like it.” Way to go, NYT.

Guaranteed, if Joker had been black or brown and white women were only used, there’d be a backlash against the narrative for painting men of colour as unstable and white women as victims because men of colour aren’t allowed to be mentally ill, only terrorists and criminals. Which is what Joker ultimately ends up becoming. Can’t win, can you?

Thank u for coming to my ted talk.

[laila-rk]

Taika Waititi’s Jojo Rabbit

I will admit I went into Jojo Rabbit with reluctance and in an already bad mood. I was planning on watching Little Women which I was very excited for but didn't make it in time, so it kind of felt like 'settling' for another film already. When the film began I was annoyed when the blatant rip-off Moonrise Kingdom aesthetic that I had expected from the trailer came to fruition. I don't personally see why a director would desire to rip off another's aesthetic and how they could be so conspicuous about it, but hey ho. So the entire first forty minutes or so I will admit I spent sitting in my seat silently pissed off and trying to talk myself out of my terrible mood. The film did nothing to assist me in this task. I ended up actually having to tell myself to try to see the film from a child's perspective, because frankly I don't see how anyone beyond the age of about ten could really take much from this film. Other cinema goers didn't seem to have the same issue — seemingly every person in the theatre was in hysterics at all the really badly written, juvenile script/ jokes. I despair.

Where to begin really? Rebel Wilson manages to be unfunny throughout, with every line seeming to be delivered with too much surrounding silence as if in anticipation of audience laughter. It felt like Pitch Perfect and all the jokes fell flat. The lead boy (Roman Griffin Davis) is strangely angered throughout, without any real impetus. I don't assign any blame to the twelve year old actor for this, rather the script and character writing was really badly done. Sam Rockwell, though one of the better performers, seems to be a tacked on character with no real point beyond serving as a vague father-figure to fatherless Jojo and as a precautionary "not all Nazis were bad people" add on. Scarlett Johansson I frankly felt sorry for throughout.

Jojo is a young member of the Hitler Youth. He is sufficiently indoctrinated but is small and cowardly. Some older Nazi boys tell him to kill a rabbit and when he can't do it, they call him rabbit as a joke. But Jojo confides in his imaginary friend, Hitler, who tells him it's okay because he would have his people be comprised of all 'animals' so to speak — the courage of a panther, the cunning of a fox, something something... you know, because Hitler was well into diversity. None of this matters though, because where the film is set up initially at the Hitler Youth training camp, and we feel as though we are in for a long slog of trying not to detect Wes Anderson's Fort Lebanon in this camp, the film bizarrely turns into another film when it randomly changes its mind and decides to set itself largely in the boy's home. It feels very much like the opening is from another movie and just stitched on the beginning.

Actually, despite the Wes-rip off, I would've preferred it to remain at Not-Camp-Ivanhoe, because what it turns into is Boy in the Striped Pyjamas meets Tracy Beaker. It has all the cheap tactlessness of a BBC film, including cheap looking costumes and predictable cinematography. There's a bit where Johansson tells Jojo (her son) that love feels like butterflies and soon after we get a camera pan down to Jojo's stomach where, yes, cgi butterflies reside. It felt like that bit where you go inside Tracy Beaker's head and see her 'famous' mum stepping out of a limo. It was embarrassing to watch.

Jojo falls in love with a Jewish girl, which feels like an unnecessary thread of the story, partly because it seems to be assuming the audience is also in the Hitler Youth and needs teaching that Jewish people do not in fact have horns and hang upside down like bats — actual line from the film— and partly because the girl is established as a stand-in for Jojo's dead sister. So that's weird.

Scarlett Johansson has to try to carry a scene off in which she impersonates Jojo's father who is said to be fighting in the war and has been absent for two years, therefore suspected as a deserter. Johansson awkwardly smears her face with ash from the fireplace and with this 'beard', begins to mimic Jojo's dad in such a way as to paint him as some kind of angry drunk, or rather just a stereotype of a 40s German father? We aren't sure. There's a lot of horrible awkward dancing in this scene and throughout, because Jojo's mum equates dancing to freedom and... well, that's about as profound as the film manages to get. The scene is really hard to watch and it just feels like the camera remains too long on an actress who isn't totally convinced of her role, and who could blame her really when the script is so embarrassingly flimsy?

The Hitler character, played by director Taika Waititi, has his moments. The performance is flamboyant and self-deprecating which does make for the occasional funny moment, in particular a part where he feigns confusion at public perception of himself as a 'psycho' as if he has no idea why this would be. The problem is that this should have been woven throughout and actually the film strays from this character too much in favour of following the Jewish girl who Jojo's mother has been hiding. This doesn't work because for some unknown reason, the girl is made to be frankly a smug brat. I'm not sure if this was in some kind of attempt to imbue the character with some form of liberation (she immediately grabs the Nazi boy and physically shoves him around a lot). It doesn't really come across as liberated though, if anything it makes it hard to empathise with the character as she behaves like a robot. She just comes across as an unbearable character who seems to have literally zero gratitude for the person who has been hiding and feeding her. That's not to say the Jewish character doesn't have EVERYTHING to be angry about, but human nature does dictate that one might be a little more emotionally nuanced and experience small moments of joy when everything else is bad. Instead, Elsa is perpetually angry to the point of essentially bullying the German child who is far younger and smaller than herself. This might make sense if she was even awarded some kind of emotional liberation at the end beyond her predictable escape when the war ends, but all she is permitted to do is another stupid dance on the doorstep (signifying Jojo's mother's idea of freedom, not even her own).

The film's redeeming quality is actually the performance by Archi Yates as Yorki, unfortunately perpetually referred to as 'the fat kid', as if that's a funny enough line to repeat throughout. His performance is naive (the actor is eleven years old), but it works because his timing is great and he delivers the lines as if he is familiar with the intended style of comedy; he actually delivers his lines with wit, where all the adult actors around him fail. He also seems to speak with a British accent where everyone else flits between a half baked German accent and their own real accent, which in between seems to fall into some kind of Welsh accent. Just do the German accent properly or don't bother with it! A scene in which Stephen Merchant arrives as Gestapo begins with a lot of 'Heil Hitlers' and ends with Merchant seeming to forget what he's doing and falling into his usual west country voice.

I don't have much else to write about this film because it's not enjoyable to bang on about the bad qualities of a movie and I do think there is something to be said for the director/writer's bravery in making a film about Hitler as a boy's imaginary friend.

I think the film would've been better off with less of a comedy vibe and by following in real earnest the experience of a member of the Hitler Youth; what his psyche would've been. Unfortunately the film is too babyish for any adult (Dukes at Komedia crowd notwithstanding), which means it is really only funny to kids, and I'm not sure what it does for a child without real prior knowledge of Hitler's Germany. The termination of the boy's friendship with Adolf manifests in his literally kicking Adolf out the window and telling him to 'fuck off', but actually this doesn't do much to negate the established charm/ charisma of the Hitler character. You don't ever really get that sense of revenge or satisfaction at Hitler's expense, if anything you feel a bit sorry for the neurotic clown incarnation of Adolf, who after all is a figment of the boy's imagination. I don't demand any kind of moral lesson from art, but it would seem that this film would be obligated to contain one, and yet it remains dubious as to what it even is... are we allowed to like this Hitler character? Are we even happy when he's gone? Wasn't he the only funny thing about the film?

The movie ends with the Rainer Maria Rilke quote “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. / Just keep going. No feeling is final.” Which left me with the final reflection that indeed I did have to let this film happen to me and was rewarded with the beauty of the final credits rolling and the liberating sensation of being able to leave the cinema to go get pizza.

Sadly this film immediately goes to the bottom of my Oscars nomination list (nominated for Best Picture. Ouch!). Interesting to note that Ra Vincent of LOTR/ The Hobbit fame (anyone else watch all those making ofs?) did the production design for this film. At least his name in the credits left me with some feeling of warmth towards it.

[punchyline]

Catfight || Discord

Summary: Punchline crashes the party and a fight ensues. Trigger Warnings: Abuse mentions, violence, death, blood, Joker Written By: @harleenqueenzel, @antidyingantihero, @ofpowerfulmortal, @poisoned-kisses

Harley: Harley pressed a kiss to her adopted son's cheek, and scratched Bruce behind the ear. She felt eyes on her, turning her head to see a woman wearing clown makeup. Oh great. "Hey, Mike..." she said, looking away. "Is that clown still watching me?" she asked, feeling anxious.

Mike: Mike's smile turned genuine. Harley always made him feel better. He glanced behind her, looking at the clown. "Kind of. Who is she." he said as he looked back at the bar. "You want me to get her out of here?"

Harley: Harley let out a soft sigh. "I have no idea. But she looks like she works fer my ex," she commented, turning to look at the woman again. Her presence was making her uncomfortable. And if Pam saw her, she'd probably end up strangling her. "I'm not sure. Do I give her a chance first, or d'ya think I should go straight ta the throwin' her out?"

Punchline: "William." She mused, scrunching up her nose and giving him a cheeky smile. "I like that. I think that's what I'll call you." She decided and he wasn't about to change her mind. She liked the sound of it, the way it shaped on her tongue. She had another sip of her drink. She may be playing with him, but she was loyal to the Clown Prince of Gotham.

Mike straightened up. "Joker? If you didn't invite her get her the hell out of here. I  can do it if you want Ma'" he answered. No one was going to make her uncomfortable.

Harley: Harley bit down on her lower lip, nodding as she ran her fingers through Bruce's fur. She didn't want Mike to get hurt -- not that he could, really. "Could ya go an' ask her what her business here is or somethin' like that? If she starts bein' aggressive, I'll come over an' help. I've got a gun concealed beneath this dress," she shrugged.

Mike: "Of course." he said standing up and kissing Harley's head. He went over to the woman, not carrying about interrupting her conversation. "What's your business here?"  he asked serious. "Because I know you weren't invited."

Billy: Billy crinkled his nose, he was not used to having someone calling him by William. He felt as if he was in trouble when people did it and remind him too much about his mom, which hurt him. Even if he was extremely young when she left him at the park, he still remembered that she called him by his full name all the time, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Punchline: "It's cute. You don't like it?" She asked Billy. She glanced Harley's way just then, catching the kiss. Half of Gotham hated her... but the other half. It praised her for leaving him. Idolized her for it. "I heard it was open for all." Punchline replied, taking a few steps from Billy towards the boy. "Did Pumpkin over there ask you to talk to me?" She said, glancing over towards Harley with an icy stare. "I'm here to paint eggs."

Harley: Harley watched as Mike approached the woman, and she heard her say 'pumpkin'. Her stomach churned and she started to walk towards Punchline, Bruce next to her, watching her closely. He'd attack if he had to. She stayed a few steps away, but was close enough to help Mike if he needed her.

Mike: "Well that was a misprint, you see it's open to everyone who don't work for a that piece of shit clown" he answered back. "I don't care what you came to do. The only thing you're going to do now is leave, and I'd rather not make a scene but I will."

Billy: Billy knew from the start that going to a villain part was a bad idea, now he was more sure, he didn't know what to do, he wasn't turned into Shazam, he had no powers, "Okay, now, let's not fight, we don't want things to end badly," he knew if they fought, more than one person could get hurt.

Punchline: Punchline eyed Harley as she came a little closer. This was who she was here for. Not her odd little bodyguard, not William. she was here for Harley Quinn. She wanted to see her. To know what she was dealing with. "I don't work for him." She corrected. She sort of did but she wanted to make it feel more intimate. More special. "We're partners." She took out her knife from her boot pocket and in one swift, cruel movement sliced open Mike's neck. Feeling the blood splatter on her face before she turned to Harley and Billy. "Oops... my bad."

Harley: Harley ran forward as soon as the woman pulled out a knife, but she was too late. She grabbed the woman by her ponytail, slamming her head against the top of the bar a couple of times. "Get the fuck outta my mansion," she hissed into her ear. She knew that Mike would wake up soon, but that didn't mean this bitch could come into her home and pull an attempted murder. "Don't make me pull out my gun, honey. I won't miss if I do."

Punchline: Punchline felt the woman tug her by her hair and smash her head against the table, not fighting against it. When she was done, she let out a small chuckle. Glancing up at her face from where she was holding her. "You liked him, didn't you? The little brat?" She whispered back. "Shoot me, dollface. I'm sure Pudding would just love that." She replied with a hiss before using her leg to kick Harley off of her. Immediately jumping on her so she could pin her to the floor. Pulling her face in close to the other woman's. "That's what you called him, wasn't it?" She said, ignoring the shouting all around her. All that mattered was Harley.

Harley: Harley slammed her head against the table again when the other asked about Mike. "Who I do an' don't like doesn't concern ya, toots. But I can tell ya one thing... I definitely don't like you." The use of the nickname she had for Joker caught her off-guard, and suddenly she was being kicked backwards. Her body pushed forward as the woman pinned her to the floor, and she headbutted her in the nose. "Yeah, 'cause that's what he was. My Puddin'. Jealousy is an ugly colour on you, sweetie!" she yelled, using all of her slightly enhanced strength to flip them over, now on top of Joker's new toy, her fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists as she pinned her down. "Tell me what ya want. Is it me? 'Cause I ain't goin' anywhere with you."

Punchline: Punchline's teeth grind together and her eyes bore into the other woman's. Anger clear on her face. She reached down to grab at Harley's neck and choke her when she felt the woman smash her head into her nose and she gasped. Blood dripping from her nose onto her snow white skin. She was as pale as he was and they'd never have that intimate connection because Harley blew up the Chemical Plant. "Say that again and I'll rip your tongue from your mouth." She snarled before Harley managed to get her down on the ground with her now straddling Punchline. "Oh... honey... I just wanted to meet you." She said before rearing up herself and smashing her own head against Harley's.

Harley: Harley could feel the woman's blood dripping onto her. It was disgusting, and she wanted to throw herself into a bath filled with sanitizer. "Rip my tongue from my mouth? Nice threat, Hannah Montana. I was with him fer years, d'ya really think a lil' threat like that is gonna scare me?" she growled. She stared down at the other, her grip on her growing tighter as she didn't get the answer she wanted. Before she could say anything in response, she was being headbutted. Their fighting styles were too similar. Had Joker trained her to fight like this? Her lip throbbed, and she felt blood dripping down her chin. "You fuckin' psycho," she screamed, letting go of one of her wrists to grab her gun from beneath her dress. "I'm gonna paint these walls with yer brains. It'll be the most beautiful thing anyone's ever seen," she warned. "I'll make sure ta invite Mistah J ta look at my new work of art. He loves it when I go feral."

Punchline: Punchline let out a deep chuckle and struggled to break free of the blonde's grip. "Hannah Montana? You're the one with the awful blonde weave." She retorted. She smacked their heads together and when she pulled back down, Harley was pulling for a gun and her wrist was freed. She could have easily grabbed a knife. She had two after all but... it was more fun to do something else. She grabbed a hold of the other's neck and forced her face closer to her own. Reaching her head back up and with her teeth biting down into her shoulder. "How's that for feral?" She spit out the blood to the side of them before moving her legs to wrap around Harley's waist and keep her still on top of her. "Go ahead, shoot me. Impress him. That is why you're doing this right. Because that's what you just said... and here I thought you were over him. My Prince."

Harley: Harley was ready to kill her. "Awful blonde weave? At least I ain't tryin' ta channel Ariana Grande with that high ponytail. Or is it just a cheap facelift?" she asked, a smirk on her face. Feeling a hand on her throat, she tried to stay as calm as possible. This was fine, she was into it. But when this stranger was doing it... It was a little scary. Her other hand reached up, grabbing the other woman's and trying to prize it away from her neck. A hiss left her lips as teeth sunk into her shoulder, and she pressed the barrel of the gun against the other's forehead. "Ya need ta keep those teeth where I can see 'em, Hannibal." As she listened to the other speak, she shook her head, feeling herself start to panic. It had taken her years to get to where she was today -- happily married, adopted kids... "He ain't yer nothin'. You think you mean somethin' ta a guy like him? Yer nothin' but a toy that he can mess with. That's why yer here now, right? He pitted you against me. Pathetic," she spat, lowering her gun and pressing a hand to the bleeding bite mark on her shoulder. "An' if ya ever bite me again, I'll pull yer fuckin' teeth out with pliers," she threatened, before sinking her own into the woman's arm. If she was going to have a scar on her shoulder, the other woman was getting one too. Fair was fair. She didn't stop, not until she was satisfied that she was causing pain. Pulling back, she grinned.

Punchline: She felt herself smile when Harley held the barrel of the gun pressed against her forehead. Tilting her head slightly back, Harley's blood bloomed at the edges of her lips and slowly dripped their way down her cheeks, like it was drawing a smile on the woman's face. She let out another chuckle at Harley's words and watched as she reacted to what she said. "You know... you kinda taste like he does." She commented, her voice low and her eyes wide. She was trying to make her jealous. Sure... Harley had been there for much longer then she had but she was his new thing now. She was there for him when Harley wasn't. She didn't run away, she took it. The bad, the good, the really ugly. Because she loved him. Harley didn't. Harley didn't know what that felt like and yet Joker never shut up about her. She was the one there everyday by his side and she kept having to hear him yammer on about how she used to call him Puddin'. How she used to smile better. Fuck that, she'd be smiling no longer. Not when Punchline had her way. "He loves me!" Punchline screamed at her when she tried to tell her that he didn't. "I'm no toy! I'm his right hand woman. He respects me. He cares for me. He didn't care for you!" She lied with a growl. Then Harley moved down and bit her back and she used her one free hand to grab at the back of her neck, at her baby hairs. Trying to force her off. When she finally was, Punchline glared ad her and used the way her legs were positioned as a way to force Harley down to the side. She then rolled them so she was on top and got up to her feet placing her foot on Harley's chest to keep her there.

Harley: Harley felt repulsed when she said that she tasted like Joker. They were nothing alike. Not anymore, at least. "Look, I'm inta some kinky stuff myself.... but that? That's just fucked up." She stared into the woman's eyes, seeing nothing but anger. Her own eyes used to be like that whenever she looked in a mirror. It was what being with a man like him did to you -- it gave you a hunger for violence and pain that you could never satiate. Eventually, his new plaything would see the light. After years of pain and abuse, mental torture. Harley didn't want that for her, even if she hated her right now and wanted to kill her. She was a puppet, just like she had been. But there was no way to make her see that. Being under his spell lasted for years. "He loves ya? Are ya sure about that? Does he love ya when he's leavin' bruises? Does he love ya when he's sendin' you out ta get hurt so he doesn't," she said, her voice low and angry. It was making her remember things she'd rather forget. This was supposed to be a fun night with her family and friends, and now it was a nightmare. "He doesn't care fer anybody!" she screamed back. "Nobody but himself!" The pain of the woman pulling her hair didn't really bother her. She'd been through so much worse, so she didn't even flinch. Once again, she was being put on her back, and she choked out a breath as the other put a foot on her chest. Reaching up, she dug her nails into her leg. "Did he teach ya this? Make yer victim feel small?" she asked, laughing as she lay there, looking up at the stranger. "Do ya feel powerful now? Like yer in charge? 'Cause you'll never be in charge of me. I'm in charge of me. Now get yer foot off me, an' go back ta kissin' his. This is yer last chance."

Punchline: Punchline: She hated her. Everything she said, she hated it. He didn't love her? Then how did she explain the good moments? Those days then he was good to her. When they'd dance together for no good reason. To no music. He'd say he just felt like dancing with her, when she asked him. How did Harley explain the times when they were alone and he'd actually let her kiss him? She felt Joker's love. She wasn't delusional or stupid. She knew it was there and the angry outbursts. That meant nothing. "Yes, he loves me then, too." She argued. Harley was screaming at her and Punchline just glared at her, watching her with a stone-cold face. She held the woman down and slowly pushed her weight against her leaning down to get a bit closer to Harley. "Maybe he did." She said. "He taught you it too, didn't he?" She said, her voice getting quieter. "I'm leaving, and not because you told me to. I could end you right now if I want." she said, taking the knife from her other boot and gesturing it towards her. "But I'd like to do it in front of him." She decided. "So he knows you're gone." She gave her one last kick before removing her foot from the other. Just noticing now the wave of dizziness in her head. She shook it, trying to get it back to normal. Taking a few steps away from her.

Pamela: Pamela had just walked into the ballroom as a woman, covered in blood, kicked Harley as she stood above her. She had been out and told Harley that she would be late to their party. She hadn't told her that she had began the process of creating more children. She would need a bette lab for that. Pamela quickly glanced around the room, noticing the blood all over their new ballroom. The shock of the scene wore off and rage bubbled up in her chest instead. The woman was thankful for the vines that grew on the outside of the house, because now she willed them to burst in through the windows. "Get the fuck away from my wife, you sad excuse for a clown! Who the fuck do you think you are? Did that bastard clown send you?" She screamed as she power-walked towards the woman, arms raised. Pamela didn't wait for an answer and she willed the vines to wrap the woman up tightly, squeezing her enough to hurt. She ran over to Harley and dropped to her knees. "Oh darling, flower, are you  alright?" she asked, panicked now, searching Harley for lie-threatening wounds.

Punchline: When the green woman burst in, Punchline frowned. She was on her way out but now she had to deal with the woman that Harley married. She didn't intend to fight Harley at all during this party. She just wanted to watch her, but ah, well. When in Rome.  The vines shot from the windows and came right towards her. She could get out of this but Poison Ivy would just wrap her up with what remains of the vines she would cut. Oh- She was rushing over to Harley now thinking that she had detained the problem. Focused on her wife. Her love. Oh, how week it was. Knife in hand she poked it through the vines. (They were pretty tough due to Spring but not actually that bad). Ignoring the pain from the squeezing in one jerk of a movement she sliced all the way through the plants and was able to release herself. Jumping down nimbly before quickly using the chance to leap out the broken window and out of the party. Hows that for an exit?

[darkshadow90]

His Obsession chapter 10

A/N: Hey guys. Here’s chapter 10. There’s another note explaining why a certain character’s death played out a little differently, so make sure you read the author’s note at the end of the chapter :)

Chapter 10

Ashe woke up feeling unsettled. She couldn’t get her mind off of the Murray Franklin Show. She had a feeling something terrible would happen if he went on it. She went to take a bath hoping to put it out of her mind. When she finished up, she felt a little more at ease. Luckily, Arthur was still sleeping. She got dressed and brushed her teeth. She finished up just before he woke up. Arthur had slept better these last few nights than he had in years. He was excited to be on Murray the following night. He couldn’t wait to be there dressed up in his fancy red suit, green hair and full clown makeup. ‘If I’m going on as a clown, I’m gonna need a clown name. What was it Murray called me when he saw my tape? A joker? Hmm. Joker. I like it. I’ll ask him to call me Joker.’ He remembered Ashe’s fear of clowns. ‘I should tell her I’m going on as a clown. She won’t be afraid if she knows it’s me she’s watching on the TV.’ “Ashe, why are you afraid of clowns?” Ashe didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to think about the awful things she read in his diary. She didn’t want to think about the fact that he was the killer clown everyone was talking about. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. “I had a bad experience with them when I was little. My mom took me to a party and they got up close. I don’t know...they scared me and I haven’t liked them since then.” Arthur could tell she was feeling uneasy, so he didn’t push her for details. He decided not to tell her he was going on the show as a clown.

After they ate breakfast, the phone rang again. Ashe went to answer it, but Arthur stopped her. “Don’t answer it. Just let it ring.” Ashe didn’t argue with him. It was a detective from the Gotham Police Department. He mentioned there were a few things that didn’t add up with what Arthur said earlier and he had more questions for him. He left his number for Arthur to contact him and hung up. ‘Shit. They’re gonna eventually show up here.’ Ashe looked over to Arthur. He had that dark look in his eyes again. He pulled her closer to him. She was terrified he might snap. She just sat there and let the silence pass through. She finally said his name, but the darkness in him didn’t leave. He smelled her scent and it was driving him wild. He fought with himself again. He wanted to drag her to the bedroom and take her. “Arthur, are you okay?” He barely managed to suppress a groan. ‘I love the way she says my name. So fucking sweet. God, I want to hear her say it as she’s writhing underneath me. No, what the fuck am I thinking?’ Eventually the darkness in him left, but he was terrified he almost gave into it. “I’m fine. I’m gonna get cleaned up.” Ashe wanted to call the detective so badly, but the phone was so close, she knew Arthur would hear her. All she could do was wait for another opportunity.

Ashe woke up the next morning and got ready before Arthur woke up. She went out to the living room and waited. He got up, but he was taking longer than usual. When he finally came out, Ashe was horrified. ‘What the fuck!’ Arthur was shirtless, wearing a blue pair of pants. His hair was dyed green and his entire face was painted white. It looked haunting. “What’s wrong? It’s for Murray tonight.” Before she could say anything, someone buzzed the door. Arthur opened it, and saw Randall. He sneered at him. “Hey Arthur. How are you?” The voice was British. He looked down and immediately perked up when he saw Gary. “Hey, guys. Come in.” “Did you get another job?” Gary asked. “Nah, it’s for something else.” “Alright then,” Randall said. They saw Ashe on the couch. “Well look at this. So you finally got yourself a girlfriend. Hey, Gary, you see this? Art got himself a little girlfriend.” Gary gave her a friendly smile and waved. “You don’t have to be a dick about it, Randall,” Gary said.“Hi, Gary. I’m Ashe.” Randall was disappointed she didn’t greet him, too. “Wait a minute. Is your name Ashlyn Taylor?” Randall asked. Ashe was surprised he knew her name. “Yeah, why?” “Oh, Jesus. There was a section in the newspaper that mentioned a girl went missing a few days ago. Christ, Art. Did you kidnap her?” Arthur didn’t say anything. He took a drag from his cigarette he had been smoking. “I tried to talk you into getting rid of that gun. I was afraid you’d get yourself and other people hurt. That’s why I ratted you out. The cops came and questioned everyone. We all had alibis.” “No one talked to me,” Gary said. “That’s because the suspect is normal size. If it was a dwarf, you wouldn’t be here right now.” ‘Asshole,’ Ashe thought. “Hoyt said they talked to you, and they’re looking for me. I need to know what you told them, and make sure everything checks out. You’re my boy.” “Thanks, Randall.” Ashe saw Arthur take a pair of scissors out of his pocket, but before she could say anything, Arthur stabbed Randall in the neck and again in the eye. Gary and Ashe were screaming, terrified of what might happen next. “It’s fine, Gary. You can go. I won’t hurt you.” Gary slowly walked toward the door, and Arthur jumped out to scare him. He was petrified when he couldn’t reach the lock. “Hey, Arthur?” “Hmm?” “Can you open the lock?” Arthur smiled. “Shit. I’m sorry, Gary.” He opened the door, but then closed it. Gary looked over to Ashe for a split second and nodded. “Gary?” “Yeah?” “You were the only person to ever show me kindness.” Arthur opened the door and Gary ran out. Ashe froze. “Ashe,” she flinched away. “Baby.” He was trying to calm her. She shook her head. “Don’t make me do this again.” He said it as if he was about to do something he had done to her before and he felt bad about it. He truly felt bad she had to see him kill someone. Ashe ran and Arthur sighed, got another sedative from the drawer. and filled the syringe. He found her trying to jump out the window. He grabbed her and pulled her back inside. “No! Get off me!” She thrashed around trying to get out of his grip, but he was too strong. She cried out when she felt something sharp poke her arm. She passed out. When she woke up, she was in a different room. She wasn’t in Arthur’s bedroom. “Ashe?” She recognized the voice. “Gary? Where am I?” “It’s alright. You’re in the hospital.”

A/N: I had this idea about the scene where Arthur kills Randall. I thought it might be interesting if Arthur had a delusion about Randall giving him the gun and telling Hoyt that Arthur tried to buy the gun off him. And what actually happened was Randall never gave him the gun and was trying to talk him out of having one. He was worried so he told Hoyt Arthur had a gun. Hoyt fired Arthur so others wouldn’t have their safety put at risk. I thought it would make the scene even more intense. I kind of wish they went this direction in the movie. Imagine if they did. It would be a great way to show how unstable the joker is. You’re on this crazy murder ride with him just hoping you’re not next. I understand why they had it play out the way it did for the movie since Arthur only kills people who wronged him, but to have him imagine Randall giving him the gun would’ve been intense especially if Gary was the one who told him after he killed Randall. Gives me chills thinking about it.Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. Let me know what you think :)

[andre--castillo]

closed starter for @maestrocillian​

With each successful film he made, Andre became more and more in demand which meant the work got harder and the hours got longer. He loved making movies, but hated when his contract with a studio turned making a piece of art into a commercial cash grab that he was basically forced to direct. Like producers, he flipped through scripts looking for a gem he wanted to be a part of, still hoping to find something he could be proud of even though his next project was basically a joke on celluloid. Still, he was determined to make it a hit if only for the sake of his reputation, and that meant calling in one of the best music producers he knew of. Cillian Bristow had a long history of being a talented asshole with a temper and ego that rivaled his own, and while it made for a difficult work environment, Andre knew that the final product would have been something great. o long as they didn’t kill each other.

Walking into the room with coffee as an olive branch, Andre grumbled under his breath as having just gotten off of the phone had him already in a bad mood before the day even really started. “I make one of the scariest most talked about films of the decade, give a whole new generation of kids nightmares from the same bastard that haunted my dreams when I was younger, but I can’t go online without reading about how badly people wanna fuck the clown. Please tell me you didn’t spend all night waving your little stick around but have nothing to show for it. I’m sure you’re exes are fine with that but I need a score for this polished up turd I have to release with my name on it.”