#imagine this is the only way to save their lives!!!

[lazy-ahh]

Hello!! this is just a silly request of a idea that spawned in my head, what about a Sinister Mark (+ variants) with a male or gn Reader, they're in a 'healthy' (as healthy as it can be if they're unhinged/fucked up), like, every variant had a reader that either die or they accidentally kill them, main mark reader is dead and is just that Sinister mark is the only one with a alive reader? (english isn’t my first language so sorry for any errors, i just imagine Sinister all smug that he has a living reader)

THE LAST ONE STANDING

pairing sinister! mark grayson x gender neutral reader (+ variants)

what happens when you're the only one left alive across every dimension? ask the eight broken marks trailing behind you—or better yet, ask your mark, the one who saved you. the one who watches with a smirk as his variants crumble at the sight of you: breathing, laughing, his.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro , @cynvia

you're alive.

that’s the thing that sets him apart from the rest—the other marks, the ones who stagger in from broken dimensions like starving dogs, fists clenched and eyes hollow with grief. they’re here to burn this world down, to carve their pain into something that bleeds, because what else do they have left? some of them killed you by accident—hands too strong, a battle they couldn’t end fast enough, a mistake they’ll spend eternity choking on. others were just too slow, forced to kneel in your blood, useless as your pulse stuttered out under their fingers. and then there are the worst ones—the ones who chose it, who tore into you themselves because their love was always just another kind of violence.

but your mark?

he didn’t just keep you.

he saved you.

and not in some noble, selfless way—no, this was something hungrier, something possessive and brutal and his. he fought for you like a man clawing his way out of a grave, and he’d do it again. he’d do it a thousand times.

and yeah, he’s smug about it. you feel it in the way his fingers press bruises into your hips when another variant stumbles into your path, all ragged breath and shattered composure. his grin is a blade, glinting in the dim light as they freeze, staring at you like you’re a ghost—alive, warm, his.

"look at that," he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, voice dripping with something between pity and triumph. "another one who couldn’t hold onto you."

it should hurt you, seeing any version of mark like this—broken, desperate, ruined. and it does, a little. but there’s something else, too, something dark and curling in your chest as you watch their hands tremble at their sides, fighting the urge to reach for you. for a second, you imagine what it’d be like to see your mark like that—kneeling, shattered, yours in a way that’s more surrender than victory.

the thought makes your pulse jump.

(and from the way his grip tightens, he knows.)

it's been one day since the invincible war started.

now, it was your job to round up all the broken, furious, useless versions of mark before angstrom got them killed. you weren’t an idiot—you saw the writing on the wall. angstrom would toss them aside the second they stopped being useful, and you? you weren’t done with them yet. not when every single one of them looked at you like you were the last drop of water in a desert, starving and pathetic and yours to play with.

convincing them to abandon their posts wasn’t hard. all it took was a look, a smirk, the barest hint of come with me if you want to live wrapped in something softer. they followed like strays, hungry for whatever scrap of attention you’d throw their way.

you weren’t stupid enough to think your mark wouldn’t notice, of course. he’d let you wander, let you have your little game—because he knew, in the end, you’d always come back to him. but until then? you were going to enjoy yourself.

so far, you’d collected eight.

there was the mohawk-and-piercings variant, all sharp edges and sharper desperation, playing at indifference while his eyes tracked your every move like you might vanish if he blinked. you later find out that he had a harem of people who looked like you, but he had killed them off because every time they made a mistake (whether they didn't laugh the way you did, didn't stand their ground in situations where you would, didn't look at him the same way you did), it would break the immersion, and the grief would hit him ten times harder. the veiled one—arrogant bastard, vulgar as hell, fingers twitching like he wanted to grab you by the throat or pull you into his lap, never deciding which. pretended not to give a shit until something so much as scratched you or inconvenienced you, then he was the first one ripping throats out. hypocrite. the fully masked one in black and blue—no skin, no tells, just the slight tilt of his head when you spoke, like he was recording your voice to replay later. soft-hearted idiot. still talked about his dead mom like she might walk through the door, still smiled when remembering dumb childhood games. you made sure to keep him close. not because you cared. just because he’d be the first to get himself killed otherwise.

the goggle-less one was a riot—literally. his eyes too wide, too raw, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. but he adapted quickly. cracked jokes mid-battle, laughed when punches landed, blood in his teeth and excitement in his eyes like pain was just another way to get off. you’d never admit it, but his shitty one-liners sometimes got a smirk out of you. the maskless variant didn’t joke. didn’t smile much either. just floated there like a kicked dog, staring at you with this hollow look while casually mentioning how he’d torn his father apart piece by piece for killing you. you approved, of course. even combing your fingers through his hair and watch his expression light up, a soft pink hue dusting across his cheeks as he looked at you like you just kissed him. you might've. you might've not. the red-and-white cape bastard was ice personified—monotone voice, cold eyes, the kind of guy who’d call genocide "mildly inconvenient." but his hands shook when you got too close, and that? that was hilarious. "you were the only tolerable thing on this rock," he’d muttered once, like it physically pained him to admit it. or to remember. pathetic. so deliciously pathetic.

and finally—the hardest one to crack. the viltrumite. white uniform, perfect posture, face like carved stone—until you flew in. then his jaw clenched so tight you could hear his teeth grind. called you a liability. a distraction. liar. this one missed you so much it was practically rotting him from the inside out. raised on viltrumite dogma but still clung to that last shred of humanity—you. and when you’d died in his world? that shred had frayed to nothing. now he trailed you like a shadow, silent and watchful, intercepting threats before they even got close. brought you trophies from battles you didn’t even ask him to fight—an old bully’s severed hand, the head of a reporter who had talked shit about you in the news once, even a fucking crown, gently placed on top of your head without a word. his way of saying mine.

(you wore it for a few hours just to watch his pupils blow wide. worth it.)

now, they were all yours. for now. your mark would come eventually—he always did—but until then? you had a whole collection of broken toys to play with.

(and when he did? well. you’d make sure that was fun, too.)

and just like that, the day was over.

playtime was supposed to be over. but since when did you ever follow the rules?

your mark’s face was priceless—confusion flickering across his features as you landed at the agreed spot, trailing eight battered, bruised, and entirely too attached versions of himself behind you like some fucked-up parade. the air shifted the moment you got closer, thick with tension and something dangerously close to jealousy. you could see it in the way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his pupils dilated just slightly as you stopped right beside him, close enough that your shoulders brushed.

"had fun?" he asked, voice low, teasing, but with an edge underneath—like he already knew the answer and wasn’t sure if he wanted to punish you for it or praise you.

you grinned, sharp and unrepentant. "oh, you have no idea."

his lips curled, slow and satisfied, and for a second, it was just the two of you—his hand sliding possessively around your waist, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, "good." because he loved this. loved that you came back. loved that you wanted to. loved that even when he let you wander, you always found your way back to him.

the other marks didn’t move. didn’t speak. some stared at you like they were starving, fingers flexing like they wanted to reach out and take. others looked like they were one wrong breath away from snapping, from tearing you apart just so no one else could have you.

your mark’s grip tightened, just enough to bruise.

he wouldn’t let them try.

you weren’t naive. you knew exactly what he was—what this was. his love was teeth against your throat, a hand around your wrist, a promise whispered in the dark that sounded more like a threat. it was obsession, all-consuming and violent, and you? you fucking reveled in it. you never flinched. never backed down.

because you were just as bad as he was.

"missed you," you muttered, just for him, just to watch his eyes darken.

he laughed, soft and dangerous, and pulled you closer. "liar."

(you were. but he loved that about you, too.)

the red-and-white variant scoffed, turning sharply so his cape snapped like a whip behind him. "this is beneath us." his voice was ice, but the leather of his gloves groaned under the pressure of his clenched fists, betraying him.

the mohawk-and-piercings variant barked out a laugh, sharp and jagged. "what in the actual fuck is this?" he sneered, arms crossed so tight over his chest it looked like he was trying to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. "some kinda twisted harem fantasy? fuckin’ disgusting." but his eyes—dark, hungry, jealous—never left where your mark’s hands gripped you.

the maskless one was silent. just staring, his expression hollow, fingers twitching at his sides like he was already imagining the way your mark’s throat would collapse under his grip.

the veiled mark dragged a hand through his hair, laughing—a bitter, broken sound. "oh, this is fucking rich," he spat, voice thick with something between fury and desperation. his fingers jerked toward you before he forced them into fists, knuckles white. "you really dragged us all here just to watch you play house with him?"

viltrumite mark didn’t speak. didn’t move. just watched, his face carved from stone—but you saw it. the way his jaw flexed when your mark’s fingers pressed possessive bruises into your hip. the flicker of pain in his eyes, raw and aching, before he locked it away.

something twisted in your chest. guilt? pity? you couldn't imagine what it was like to lose someone—really lose them—and for a second, you wondered what you’d do if it were your mark gone. if you were the one standing there, hollowed out and desperate.

but then—

the way they looked at you. pathetic. submissive. like they’d fall to their knees if you so much as crooked a finger. and god, the thought of them breaking further—lips trembling, eyes wet, soft whimpers escaping no matter how hard they bit down—sent a thrill down your spine.

your mark smirked against your temple, his kiss burning like a brand. "cute," he purred, voice thick with mock pity as his fingers tangled possessively in your hair. "look at them—really thought they stood a chance." his lips curled into something vicious as he glanced at the broken reflections of himself, his grip on you tightening just enough to make his point. "weak. all of them. couldn’t even keep what was theirs."

you leaned into him, arms locking around his waist like a claim of your own, sighing as his other hand traced down your spine—gentle in a way that would’ve seemed impossible for anyone else. but this was yours. the way his touch lingered, the way his voice dropped into something warm and honeyed when he spoke only to you. "not you, though," he murmured, lips brushing your forehead. "you’re perfect. mine. only one smart enough to stay alive."

his grin sharpened as he looked back at the others, drinking in their rage, their grief, the way their hands shook at their sides. "bet that stings, huh? seeing what you could’ve had if you weren’t such fucking failures?"

you laughed, low and satisfied, pressing closer just to watch their expressions crack—

and something sick twisted in your chest when you saw how they flinched, how their eyes burned with something raw and starving. because that sound—your laugh, bright and fucking alive—it had been years for them. years of silence, of bloodstained hands and empty beds and the ghost of your voice haunting every battle. and now here you were, curled against him, looking at him like he hung the goddamn stars while they rotted in the periphery.

(and oh—the way their faces twisted. like they wanted to scream. like they wanted to beg. like they’d burn the world down just to tear you away from him.)

(they wouldn’t. couldn’t.)

(your mark would make sure of it.)

hey chat!! hope you enjoyed this messy little 2.1k word dump—this fic fought me like a rabid raccoon and had me struggling the entire time not gonna lie 😭 sorry anon if it's not exactly what you pictured, but i tried my best to make it deliciously messy for you! (lowkey viltrum mark kept stealing the spotlight in my drafts like the favourite he is—had to physically restrain myself from writing 5k words of just him sigh. the struggle was REAL y'all) BUT OMG THOSE LAST LINES WITH SINISTER MARK??? even i was kicking my feet and giggling like an idiot while writing that possessive bastard's dialogue heheh

[thelunarfairy]

The price of empathy

The mysteries of death, oh, it usually comes with despair, melancholy and a certain drama. A slight touch of nostalgia, and of course, the farewell - which doesn't always come.

There are those who hate it, those who fear it, and those who believe it is the solution. But in death there are no answers, perhaps there is silence, I can't tell you for sure, after all, fortunately I haven't encountered it (yet).

They say there is nothing like living someone's experience in order to understand them. But I fear that in some cases not even that would be of any use.

There are experiences that we interpret in ways we never imagined. What can we say about a simple girl who just wanted to have an ordinary life, with an ordinary boyfriend and ordinary desires and had the empathy to try to "save" a murderer.

Sometimes it seems like she already knew, that she already felt that there was something pure in him, something that only she could feel. The girl who tried to give him a little company and the joy she could offer, even if it wasn't much.

But getting involved with a murderer isn't something that should be done by good girls, by kind and naive girls, and often superficial.

The world isn't cool to kind people.

It usually offers the opposite.

Nene now holds the knife that was so heavy in Hanako's hands. The knife that reflected the image of the greatest love of his life.

Now in her hands, reflecting the image of the people she promised to save.

Irish, isn't it?

She's living a little of what he lived, feeling slightly what he felt, even though she can't compare to him, after all, he took the life of the brother he loved so much, he can't compare to some of his school friends.

Not even the best of them.

The naive girl still hasn't realized that she's being prepared for this. To kill someone she loves the most, someone she cares about the most.

Because Sakura once told her how terrible Tsukasa's death would be if she didn't remove his yorishiro, something Hanako wouldn't allow.

Because Tsukasa asked her directly to kill Amane if she wanted to get out of that false world.

For everything to end, does Amane need to die? Or will it be Tsukasa?

The visceral sensation of blood dripping from the knife onto her hands, Aoi's still warm body falling as she begged Nene to wake up while she hugged her, knowing that Nene was innocent, she didn't give up on her best friend at any moment.

She accepted her in a hug, even though it literally tore her heart apart.

Maybe it was the same cold sensation Amane felt when Tsukasa smiled at him one last time after the stabbing.

For the first time, she is feeling on her own skin what that lonely boy felt. The regret, the pain, the fear, the shock.

Death came to her several times, once to take her, when she refused to go with it, she found something worse, to be responsible for the death of those she loves.

She is capable of doing it, said the entity.

It was a matter of time.

Death would come.

And it did.

And more Death will still return.

[zeravmeta]

talking about a certain hundred line route, obvs spoilers

I think the Cult of Takumi route is kind of genius in how it's actually pretty easy to stumble into and serves as an exceptional tone setting route for those looking to 100% the game, or at least hunt for a few more endings.

Here's the thing, the Cult Route is preceded by choices that seem pretty obvious to take on the surface if you share even a modecum of Takumi's goals in saving all his friends: sparing Eito, Takumi revealing his foreknowledge, and saving LDA vs SLDA on day 9/10

Now, if you're anything like me you probably went into the first loop thinking "alright how do i save all my friends this time, let's do less warcrimes" so sparing Eito initially seems like a good idea, you'd want that golden route ending where everyone manages to make it. Revealing your foreknowledge also seems like a good idea, it's a really easy thing to prove and the cast trusts you immediately as well, and going in blind and undivided is what caused all the problems in Route 0, so a unifying force in providing foreknowledge seems good. Going to save SLDA seems pretty obvious too, not doing so would result in Moko disappearing initially, but the fact that Takumi inadvertently buffed the commanders by going back in time also means that it's far likelier that ALL the SDLA members could die this time, PLUS you're right there, surely the LDA can survive ONE battle without you.

However, the game punishes you for this last choice by permakilling Darumi, one of Takumi's first friends in Route 0. Darumi's death hangs over him and serves as a constant reminder not only that your choices have consequences, but that you might not actually be making things better this time. Foreknowledge doesn't necessarily mean an easy go this time, and Takumi is faced with the risk that going back like this might actually make things far worse. This continually sticks with Takumi throughout the preceding days and haunts him before it gets even worse: The sacrifice choice between Kyoshika, Tsubasa, and Takemaru.

Kyoshika is terrified to die but still chooses to offer herself up, Tsubasa is even moreso because she didn't even expect to be a sacrifice option, and Takemaru... nudges you to choose him. Out of the three, he seems the most prepared for this.

Takemaru, the second of Takumi's first friends.

In Route 0, Takumi's first friends were Hiruko, Eito, Darumi and Takemaru. Hiruko did not last long and Eito was a traitor, but Darumi and Takemaru were Takumi's closest friends who continued to support him throughout Route 0. And for the Cult Route to form, he loses both of them.

Both of these deaths are what stuck with Takumi the most, even well into the ending of the Cult Route where he thinks of honoring them while taking over the world, but it's the starting point for him taking Yugamu's funny pheromone hentai drug, and it only gets worse because of Sirei. Sirei initially makes Takumi a leader, something he already doesn't want to be, but also sets the seed to make Takumi a cult leader. Initially, Takumi keeps swearing up and down that this is just a temporary measure to keep everyone united, that once they reach day 100, he can have this removed, but after Takemaru's sacrifice, there are no other big choices except for the very last day: choosing between Nozomi and Eito in making a cure.

However, the game punishes you again, this time for choosing Nozomi. If you try to correct the course and not be a fucked up pheromone alpha male guy right at the very end even if it might cause further problems (which I imagine is the FAR more chosen option, I'd love if this game revealed metrics on what choices people made the most), Takumi is left paralyzed and forced to watch as the cast brutally beat Nozomi to death, ending on a scene of Eito having his way with Takumi as he's stuck being a living idol.

The fucked up thing, though, is that if you choose Eito, this route really does work out in all their favors in the long run. Takumi managed to save most of his friends this time and reconciled with Eito, all of them as a collective take charge of both the planet and humanity and forcibly end the war, ensuring a better future that isn't a dead end for either humanity or the futurans, which we know because Takumi's inner monologue makes a point of bringing humanity to heel so that they don't wipe out the futurans. Takumi lost two friends but ultimately the entire situation is resolved in a way that doesn't damn either side to extinction.

But it's also horrific. The technically better for everyone ending is also one of the morally worst. Takumi is warped physically and mentally into this egotistical alpha male cult leader with all his friends being living subservient slaves and he uses a newly brainwashed Nozomi as a doll to replace Karua. Even with access to Takumi's inner monologue where he is presented as genuinely caring for all his friends, it's still a horrific turn to see Takumi this warped, justifying these actions with what are, in fact, tangibly better results compared to last time.

And I think that's so genius that this route with minimal casualties and a defined, almost hopeful ending for the future is also presented as so morally twisted, because this route I think is remarkably easy to stumble into if you're doing your best to try and save the whole cast: You tried to make all the 'good' choices, you try to save everyone and minimize as many casualties as you could even at the cost of your morality and principles, but even a 'good' ending isn't necessarily a better one.

And if this is one of the first endings you get, it really sticks with you for every choice going forward in hunting other endings. Just how much worse could things be?

[blanketfortmotel]

S6xE9 "Dean... Did you service Oberon, king of the fairies?"

I'm sorry, but everyone's acting choices surrounding that dialog in that scene made it seem like that is exactly what happened, or what was about to happen before Dean flipped out and started shooting and slashing to escape the fairy realm thinking he was about ot be probed by aliens.

Dean has been snapping pretty hard at Sam for acting apathetic ALL episode, not even including the previous episodes. HOWEVER, as soon as Sam asks this question, Dean's whole expression just zones out for the first time in the conversation. Face completely flat, blinking at nothing. He's looking down at the table, maybe? He just says nothing, super tense, giving Sammy a fixed, but GENGUINELY not a reprimanding look, tenses his jaw, then turns back to the "crazy-fairy-lady" and goes back into his defensive, sarcastic, grin-and-bare-it charm.

Dean was straight up preyed on by the creepy 600+ y/o vamp, Boris, in an earlier episode. Before he gets half-turned, Boris calls him "pretty" twice, getting into his personal space. (MAJOR POINT: Boris doesn't get into his space in an obvious 'I'm getting close enough to hit you so hard you'll go flying across this ally, onto a dumpster.' sort of way. Boris approaches Dean with very clear intent. It is a gross, lustful demeanor, not pure blood thirsty like we usually get from vampires on this show.)

After Dean's turned, he's still so clearly being preyed on that it makes your skin itch watching that Boris bastard breath on screen.

Logically, Dean should have waited for a closed, less open space that he was being guided towards (You don't need to make it to the room, just get into a hallway to avoid everyone witnessing you kill the leader and being attacked on all sides.) in order to avoid being caught in such an open, fully staffed-with-vamps space. Dean's choice to pull out the dead-man's-blood syringe IMMEDIATELY after Boris was so predatory with him? I'm forced to argue that the only reason he'd be that stupid in such a high stakes moment, is because he was feeling crushed, furious, and violated at the same time. And that is canonically what he was feeling. It's a horrible, inescapable feeling and once you feel it for a solid second, you cant help but figure out how you could try to save yourself in the future. I'm a senior purple belt in taekwondo because I've lived through some BS and I refuse to live though it again even if I go down fists swinging. (once again, not logical, reactional)

Personally I would have considered it more in line with the tone of the episode and Sam and Dean's relationship for Dean to have kicked Sammy under the table or at the very least made a snarky remark or smile-huffed at him, but its just SO tense??? Like why?? Dean acts so violated regarding the whole experience and is SURPRISED when his second encounter is obviously a tiny glowing naked lady, clearly not what he had experienced his first go around being abducted.

I just believe this got really heavily glossed over the more I think about it. I don't recall, in all my years in this delusion cave, anyone talking about this "servicing king Oberon" comment and the way it was handled on screen.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talking about this because someone made a post pointing out the fact that Dean and Sam have both been SA'd on screen multiple times, and they were both canonically tortured in every way imaginable in Hell, 99.9% off-screen. I can already IMAGINE a lot considering my own life experience and imagination. Not to mention the body horror you can stumble across on the internet, especially during the time Dean would have been getting more familiar with computers in high school.

After fully investing in a Psych degree for 4 years and heavily considering getting my counseling license (but not wanting any more student debt rn), I can't help but dissect what I'm seeing on screen after someone made that point.

ANYWAY I'm gonna go find/make a portal to fairy region of Avalon so I can utterly annihilate Oberon, the degenerate predator and first-born-son-abductor of the fairies.

Who wants to join? I can make team shirts!

[jebbzfixations]

In honor of The Old Guard 2 actually existing soon, I decided I had to rewatch the first one for the millionth time and write an essay about it because mental stability is overrated. This movie is what I’d consider a low level fixation in my head. Nowhere close to the Inception brainrot, but I think of this movie fondly and have watched it a bunch of times because it’s so easy to watch. I know a lot of the general public sees it as some stupid action movie that Netflix shat out, but I give it a lot more credit than that. There’s creativity and heart to this story that a lot of Netflix garbage films don’t have. So here’s some rambling for anyone who cares. Also, side note, I haven’t watched the trailer for the second movie because I have a weird thing against trailers and refuse to watch them so if anyone actually reads this, plz don’t spoil anything to me thanks <3

When I try and think about why I love this movie so much, I go to one of the same reasons I love Inception so much: the world it creates. These four people have been traveling the world together for eons, seen so much carnage and beauty and insanity together, and have been forever bonded as a result. I really do want to hear all the stories in this movie that they don’t tell us. I want to hear about Andy conquering the world on her own, want to see Nicky and Joe’s love story, even want to see what happened to Booker’s family. I’m sure there are fics out there for all of this and that’s what I love about a story that builds such a big world. It inspires creation. Besides invoking emotion, I think that is art’s purpose.

Another reason I love this movie is because of how surprisingly complex all of its characters are. Sure, they all sort of fall into action movie tropes, and I really am giving this movie more credit than it probably deserves, but I don’t care I love it. Andy is a fascinating character. She’s so jaded for most of the movie, and who wouldn’t be? She’s unable to see the big picture anymore because in a way, it doesn’t have meaning to her anymore. She’s been alive for so long, so much longer than the rest of the group, and she’s done a lot of that time alone or with people she lost. How she affects the world all blends together in her head and ends up meaning nothing. Sure, she saves some lives, but she knows that in another twenty years some other catastrophe will seemingly erase all the work she’s done. Her ability to see so far ahead, to predict the world, makes it impossible for her to unsee those patterns. I mean, come on. Even being alive for 20 years has made me jaded. Just learning history shows me how we’re bound to repeat it. Hell, the state of the US right now is enough to bring anyone to near ruin. Imagine experiencing that kind of loss of hope for so long? Andy has been trying to save the world for eons and it just keeps on dying anyway. I can’t blame her for wanting to give up. She’s developed a black and white mentality. Can’t save everyone, so save no one. It’s an extreme only someone as apathetic and old as she has can develop, and it’s something only Nile can undo.

Nile is probably my favorite character because of what she represents. Andy says to Nile that she thinks Nile showed up to show her what it was like to feel invincible again. But I kind of disagree. To me, it seems more like Nile showing up is there to help Andy relearn humanity. Andy loses her immortality, and so for the first time she has to remember what it is like to ache. She has to hurt. She has to suffer consequences, she must live and fight protecting herself rather than leaning on death. Nile helps her regain her personhood and remember what it feels like to be unremarkable. To be human. I think that’s exactly what Andy needed. To understand what it is like to feel.

Joe and Nicky are of course probably the biggest highlight of the movie. The first time I watched this they were wholly unexpected and an extremely welcome surprise. They’ve been together since the 17th century, holy shit. How do you stand someone for that long? Really though, they are so insanely lucky. They never had to be alone. That completely changes their view on their immortality. They can see good in it because it not only gave them their soulmates but gave them forever with each other. Their closeness in small moments touches me deeply. The gentle touches, the “there’s a TV!”, the checking on each other each time they die to make sure they get up again. I am so afraid the next movie is gonna fuck them up and I am pleading with the writers not to.

I appreciate Nicky’s spiritualism through time. He seems the most at peace out of all of them not just due to this intense, lasting love with Joe but also because he sees clear purpose. He can live with not knowing the “why” because he is content with just that fact that, to him, there is a “why” in the first place. He feels like he was given this power for a reason, and that when he loses it, it’ll be for an equally important reason. I think this is probably the ideal mindset to develop if you were given this ability. You have to find a way to believe in it or it’ll destroy you. It’s a good metaphor for anything that causes someone adversity, I think. Sure, you can hate this thing inside of you that makes you fundamentally different from those around you. You can see it for all of it’s bad, all of the pain it causes you, and treat it like the enemy. I certainly don’t blame Andy and Booker for doing that, or anyone in the real world for doing that with their adversities, physical or otherwise. I know I fall into those traps. But in the end, you have to live with what you’ve got regardless of how you feel about it. You can hate and hate, but you can’t hate something out of your body. Nicky knows that. He doesn’t have resentment for his ability. To him, it’s a gift. He finds the good in it. That, to me, is crucial to sanity. Joe seems to be the more pragmatic of the relationship, which makes that van scene all the more special. He’s supposedly the less lofty one, the less spiritual and more grounded, and yet he gives this syrupy yet genuine declaration of his love to Nicky. I just love how his affections for Nicky pour out in a manner that Nicky understands best.

Late in the movie, Andy says something to Booker about how they’ve been doing a shit job with their immortality, not because they’ve achieved nothing but because of the mindsets they’ve developed. I love that the answer to Booker and Andy’s grief is what they’ve been missing: an acceptance of love. Because it isn’t that they aren’t loved. They’re loved by the group, but they refuse to let it in because of all the pain love has caused. Booker lost his family, Andy lost her friends who might as well have been family. They can’t trust love. Can you really blame them? They’ve become bitter towards love because all it’s done in the end is hurt them. Trust and faith in that emotion is too difficult for them. But Joe and Nicky have love as a lifeline. It keeps them human, keeps them hopeful. They have the unique opportunity of never having to lose that and yet always having that fear in the back of their mind. Andy finally at the end realizes that it’s not love which ruined her but the lack of feeling it in the first place.

Speaking of love and affection, I’ve always sort of “headcanoned” Andy as being queer, though not in a traditional 21st century way. I mean, think about it. Andy was alive long, long before sexuality was even a concept. She would probably never really subscribe to modern day labels because it’s all just noise to her at this point. She’s been alive for so long that it means nothing to her. I can imagine she’s gone through the world falling for whoever she damn well pleases. I’ve always seen her relationship with Quynh as more than friendship. I don’t know if that’s purposeful by the movie but it’s what I’m going with cause idk I can do what I want.

Booker and Andy sort of, kind of have some implied connection beyond friendship that I don’t really want to touch cause I don’t really see much value in it. Booker is an interesting character. I end up having sympathy for him despite what he does. He’s definitely the most tortured of the group besides Andy, and I’d even argue that he’s more hopeless than she is. At least Andy still holds value in battle, in fighting even just for the sake of it. I don’t think Booker has that. He just wants this to end. Not only is he full of this grief, he’s had to watch Joe and Nicky be happy with this thing that feels like a curse to him. Even Andy must be difficult to be around to an extent because she’s so ancient she’s sort of beyond the level of grief he’s at. His grief feels closer to the surface for him, always ready to spew out, while hers has been calcified through centuries of burying it all. Joe being the angriest at him makes the most sense to me. Him and Nicky understand Booker’s suffering the least, and I would say Joe even less so than Nicky. Nicky at least has his intense spiritualism that connects him to emotions he may not entirely feel. Joe is plain old angry, can’t see anything besides the betrayal Booker has caused. I think everyone’s reactions are accurate. The way Andy screams and shakes in the betrayal has always haunted me. Imagine being with someone for so long and then they do something like that to you? Andy already can’t trust, can’t love. How is she supposed to learn how to after that? I hope that in the century he’s gone, Nile can help Andy learn again. And I don’t mean that in a romantic way. I’m sure some people see Andy and Nile together, but I think the years between them are just kind of insurmountable. Andy is a mentor, the jaded teacher to the naive student. I see a parental relationship far more than a romantic one.

One more thing I forgot to mention, one of my favorite lines is when the doctor says to Nicky: “I believe this can change the world.” And Nicky responds with, “A fine justification. I’ve heard it so many times before.” The doctor doesn’t know what to say. Her and Merrick have this close-minded egotistical goal that assumes somehow, they are the ones who can solve this mystery despite it existing for thousands of years. I love that this line completely undos any actual justification you can give to these villains. “They want to save the world! They’re just trying to help! They have so much grief!” Yes, sure, sure. But I’ve heard it so many times before. History repeats. Nicky knows that. Someone should probably listen to him.

I’m just going on and on at this point. I just feel like this movie is something special, something I didn’t think Netflix could be capable of. We have a diverse, queer cast, action sequences that are well done and well choreographed, and a plot that almost makes sense. There are weaknesses in this film, of course, but overall it feels so strong to me. I’ll probably rewatch it again before the new one comes out, and I’m sure I’ll have a lot to say when July 2nd comes around.

If there’s one thing in this world I love, it’s rambling on this website about the most random pieces of media. Tumblr, never change.

[chibishortdeath]

Recent doodles cause I was sick so obviously I had to give that to the vampire hunter man. The transfer was mostly successful btw, the headaches are less frequent d(^^)

Text and other ranting ⬇️

This one has no text. It’s just Simon waking up a little feverish— I was going to draw him getting out of bed and other longer character interaction comic stuff, but I uh was also having the head pain at the time 💀💀💀. Maybe someday later.

Simon is in like a robe or housecoat and saying “I-I’m all alright” and there’s a bit in parentheses under him that says “says guy who is clearly ill”. Then there’s a littler doodle of him doing the unsteady walk you do when you’re sick sometimes in his pjs—

The text is as follows: (Christopher) “oh my god— Simon, go lay down you are burning up.” (Simon) “immokayy” (Christopher) “you are swaying on your feet please—”. I think Simon would probably deny that he was anything less than in perfect health even when visibly not 💀. Or do the thing of “I’ve had worse” or “I can handle it” and like no, sir, what you’ve missed here is that part of handling it is rest, go lay down!!! Also Christopher is here because I just wanna see all the Belmonts getting to be a family and have significantly less responsibilities to deal with. Good lord do these guys need just a fun slice of life everyone is alive and well and we threw them into modern times AU holy shit… And also Christopher is Mr. Dad Guy Belmont, he’s definitely the guy out of all of them to be harping on someone to take care of themselves. Idk I feel like he gets extra dad vibes having been the guy allowed to be a dad on screen lol. Although I could see most of them doing this for someone though, so Simon has to go through like a whole maybe 5 other dudes insisting that he go rest and following him to make sure he’s alright. That whole denial thing is not going to work 💀. I’m thinking maybe I should draw that huh, ok another one on the ever growing list—

[prismbearer]

Idk why there's disbelief over Mark S/Helly in terms of motivation. Helly is just as capable of cruelty and selfishness as Helena. They are at the core of it, the same person with different memories/experiences. They can be two perspectives worthy of indulging their own dreams and desires and also be the same person. Narratively here especially, this isn't about morality, it's about human nature.

Helly was never cruel, sure, of course. Helly felt like she was the same as the other people in MDR. But Helly has something right now that she never even achieved as Helena. Someone who loves her. Someone who is choosing her. Helly is Winning over Helena here.

Jame Eagen wanders down just to be a freak and reinforces the reality of it. Helly is "More" than Helena, hasn't been worn down by the weight of experience and the world (and their cult and corporate bullshit). She still has, in some way, the innocence of youth and lack of experience with the world. She doesn't have the same fears and burdens or triggers as Helena in her conscious experience. She still has the ability to express her passions and outrage and defend herself. And to love and not feel sorry for it.

Severance gave Helena a chance to exist without the learned perspectives and burdens of the Eagens and she is able to be free with herself and her passions and desires-- whereas Helena was likely drained of any dreams for potential beyond a strictly guided future decades ago.

Of course Helly is feeling a rush of joy and satisfaction over Mark loving her. Mark choosing her. She tried to do the "right thing" by being logical with Mark. "I'm her." Even outside of Lumon, if they bring it all down, there's no hope for an Eagen and an ex-severed employee in reality. In the Real World they will never be together. Mark couldn't love Helena, how could anyone love an Eagen? (Poor Helly really with like, the enemy is within etc, but that's kinda the situation framed by Lumon for everyone by setting the stage with your Innie isn't human kinda rhetoric.) (This was also reinforced by Helena trying to get close to Mark to see if he still had feelings or chemistry with her and finding out they were not going to work outside Lumon.)

What if the equator is a building that could be a continent? Can be their whole world? They're choosing to live Now. Together in the present despite knowing that with their half lives, they could be brought to an end at any moment. It's very willful young love of them. And why wouldn't it be? This is their First Love. They haven't even been "alive" that long or have any memory of romance beyond their current infatuation. They don't know the world or it's places, and maybe that's okay, maybe they can exist in this space so long as they have love and the others.

It's completely human for Helly to accept Mark choosing her. To run to him just to see him for maybe the last time. It's human for Mark S to run to Helly. It's human for poor Gemma, who doesn't even know her fucking husband is severed, to be pounding on the door.

But this is their Final Day to Mark and Helly. Maybe the very end of their world. It's Judgement Day. Of course they'd have them holding hands and running back to the unknown to face the end together. To die together.

There is also zero fucking chance Mark Scout would risk his life and brain continuing reintegration once his wife is back. Mark Scout is going to choose his wife. Mark is choosing Love on both sides here.

All of it is reasonable.

[ahopefulbromantic]

wait do you believe in hell as eternal conscious torment? (im curious bc that debate has been a crux of my own journey w faith & christianity)

I believe in hell as eternal disconnection from God or more precisely as defined by the Catechism a "state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed" (CCC 1033). How that would look like i have no idea but i do know that tearing yourself apart from the one and only source of life, love, happiness, fulfilment, goodness, and everything that is good would absolutely be the worst torment imaginable, or rather well, unimaginable. And i do know God would hate to have His beloved children be in this state. I hope with all my heart that hell is completely empty, i wouldn't wish it upon anyone and i mean anyone

Oh and since you mentioned a debate, can you tell me more about it? Cause i'm not sure what you're refering to and i'd love to learn more! God bless you anon and best wishes for your journey with faith!

[quietwingsinthesky]

i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.

[pkmoth]

having swap au thoughts. *slaps roof of claus* there's so much mental illness in this guy. im gonna blow up everyone in the room and then myself

[landofgay]

I hope today was the worst day of my year. because today sucked. but I think it's gonna get better now

[bookofmac]

my most gonzo tlt theory is that one of the Tridentarii is gonna get twa sister'd into an instrument by the end of it and the only way they get to talk is by one playing the other

[quantam-furniture]

I'm just thinking about Look Outside. Game is fucking good man. Game is fucking good....

[hopecomesbacktolife]

oh Stansborough farm & weaving mill… if you are ever, ever hiring, please pls pls pls consider me xoxo

[minty-bunni]

Do you think Evka had permission for Antoine's joining or was being sent to train Antoine at a remote outpost supposed to be some sort of punishment?

[hubrishazard]

When the sand started spreading across the entire globe we all *knew* the doctor was gonna figure out a way to bring everyone back. But can you imagine if a season finale big bad killed every single person on earth and then the doctor *couldn't* save the world? At this point it would be so funny, I'd love it. It would force the show to drastically change, at least until another showrunner brought the earth back. The Doctor would either have to only visit earth in the past prior to the destruction, or would have to have alien companions for once instead. I'd watch the hell out of that