#they had a conscience

[devastatinglygreen]

these freaks really put their sex chaise lounge in their bedroom like a slutty memento. whores

[ffcrazy15]

There's this way of doing female-ness in Christianity that I call "pastel flower journal Christianity." I've got nothing against pastel flower journals per se, but for some reason people believe it's the end all and be all of female spirituality, and I think it's a real disservice towards young Christian women.

One of these days I'd like to start a prayer-and-reading group or something for young women, but there would be no floral themes or over-focus on how "God thinks you're beautiful even if the world doesn't" (a true statement, but it's wayyyyy too often the focus in women's spiritual reading). Instead we would be reading:

Seneca's Letters from a Stoic

Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning

Sheed's A Map of Life

Portions of Pieper's book on leisure

Kreeft's Three Philosophies of Life

Guardini's The Lord (or something similar)

Therese's Story of a Soul

and some select portions of the Nicomachean Ethics.

(Also they're all getting the porn talk. I don't know why we give the porn talk to young men but not young women. There's this idea that women don't use porn and they only need the talk about "guarding their heart." Bullshit. There's porn on the YA shelves of Barnes and Nobles and before that there were bodice rippers. Young women need the porn talk too.)

Every young woman needs to be getting a basic grounding in virtue ethics, logic, natural law, scholastic philosophy and Biblical hermeneutics if they're going to get by in today's spiritual landscape. Enough faffery and emotionalism in young women's spiritual education! Give them real food to chew on, not pasty sentimentalism!

[bisexualmikisayaka]

if we go by the theory that some number of the people who come to fromville are reincarnations of the original townspeople who are destined to come back again and again until the children are saved (jade, tabitha) and others are basically unlucky bystanders in their current life who get trapped with them (jim) then let’s think about other characters. namely, i agree with the theory that abby was maybe someone who was reincarnated. it’s implied she dreamed of the town when she was a child, and what was her final act? she was about to kill her son, believing she was doing the right thing (an echo of the event that kicked all of this off, something that would have ensured everyone was doomed until the next cycle because no one is free until the children are saved) but she couldn’t. because boyd, someone outside of the cycle, stopped her.

i’m quite enamored with boyd as a character who fights desperately against fate. he is adamant about how he refuses to be broken by the town, and although he knows some things like his Parkinson’s are inevitable, others he feels compelled to change. but the thing is, if my theory holds, he never should have been there at all. he was a total rando who got sucked up into this cycle of death and reincarnation and horror but he started to make things different. he made a difference in people’s lives, and most significantly, he stopped the story from repeating itself. what if jade and tabitha need someone like him to truly end the cycle - someone who was never involved in the first place but tries so fucking hard now that he’s a genuine threat to whatever controls fromville? i mean, why else would this place try so hard to break him if he didn’t pose a danger to the evil there? sure, it’s a very petty evil, who likes a cheap shot, and he did directly challenge them. but i think boyd needs to find tabitha and jade asap because i really believe he might be the key they’ve been missing in each round

[blind0raven]

Fellow can sweet talk his way into NRC through Crowley all he wants

But Kalim is the real reason that bastard is staying long, he sensed Fellow was in the campus and just literally showered him with friendship and shit

KALIM YOU CAN'T JUST AUTOMATICALLY ADOPT FELLOW LIKE THAT!!!

Ya gotta take him for his rabie shot first, the bitch desperately needs that first

[valtsv]

my dreams need to stop giving me fucked up ethical dilemmas i'm sorry but i don't think like that. if you put me in a survival situation i will simply do whatever i want.

[arbor-tristis]

Sorry but it IS poor media literacy. In shadows are falling, Murdoch is in extreme grief. His thoughts are not rational and he blames Julia which he would never have done. Just because he is the lead doesn't mean he is always right. That's actually a consistent theme in the show, from the start.

The whole point of his character is that he is a contradiction, a catholic but also a modern man of science. His catholic beliefs have made a lot of things difficult to swallow but because murdoch is at his core a man that values honesty, logic and justice, those beliefs often make him lean towards the more progressive side. This is true with Julia, with all the gay people he has ever come across in this show, and everything else.

When Julia reveals to him that she has had an abortion, he finds it difficult to forgive. He believes that it is wrong. But the show does a great job, because as the audience we KNOW it's Julia who's right. She explains it very well- she would never be where she was if she didn't have the abortion. It's a challenge to Murdoch's character to unlearn his Catholics beliefs and understand that abortion is often the only good choice women have. He learns this slowly, but regresses in his moment of grief during the miscarriage. This DOES NOT mean that at any point in this whole thing we are supposed to agree with him. We are supposed to feel bad for him, to have some sympathy. That's it.

Also with homosexuality- in like the very first (or second?) season, it comes up in a case. The resolution of the case is such that actually the gay people were not the murderers and that if people had just let people be, nobody would have died. He even lets a gay priest get away with being gay. He could have charged him. But even that early, Murdoch could feel that that would be wrong. He is not a bad person. He is just learning. Julia is once again a part of it, by opening his eyes to more progressive views.

Also I've said it once and got flamed but I'll say it again- the conversion therapy arc was actually very well done. Watts wanting conversion therapy actually makes a lot of sense given the trauma of internal and external homophobia. To all of you it might seem unimaginable but TRUST that even today, gay people try it, because they don't want to live with the trauma of being gay in this world. It's not always parents dragging people kicking and screaming - it's grown gay adults who just want to be "normal". Who are tired of hiding, of lying, of having limited options. It's very sad but it's entirely understandable. Now think of that, but in the literal Victorian/Edwardian times. Contextualise Watts' wishes in what he has just been through. What kind of future he believes he has. Be honest, would you not have considered conversion therapy? This is the EXACT argument Murdoch makes. He feels bad for Watts. He understands Watts' choice because he knows how helpless he feels. He doesn't think all gay people should do it or that gay people are bad, but he recognises that the world is not kind to them and there's very little he or anyone can do as an individual. It's a very sad reality but he's not really homophobic to think that and it's definitely not him being "pro conversion therapy". If you pay attention, even Julia seems to be sympathetic to Watts but because she is a doctor she tries to tell him that it doesn't actually work. But she STILL understands. Thats what a person with any empathy for someones suffering would do. The episode doesn't have a nice little happy ending and Llewellyn just accepts that he has to be gay because conversion therapy doesn't actually work. But why should it have an ending where everyone turns to the camera and says "conversion therapy is bad y'all" for you to take away the right message???? They didn't solve homophobia, they were just people doing the best they could.

I think you should ask yourself why you need it to be so black and white. Why does Murdoch have to be a good guy or "right" just because he is the lead, and just because he is right about some things, mostly detective work. Murdoch is a person. A talented, rare person- but he exists in history. Like it's not hard. This show actually does a great job of humanising Victorian people. They may have lived at a very different time, but so many of them, not just our main characters, act in progressive ways, out of love, out of a sense of justice. Even Brax does. They were people and they cared about other people. Like us. They would do anything to help them and love them the best way they could. They may not have gotten it 100% but that's fine, nobody does.

You are not the only one in this fandom that has expressed these beliefs, so it's not personal - but watching period dramas with so little sense of nuance is what is wrong. Even today people are complex. Please gain some sense of complexity in characters. It might improve your viewing experience.

If this is incredibly poor media literacy, shout at me and take away my media and English a levels but I'm rewatching shadows are falling and I genuinely cannot tell if the message is pro-choice or pro-life.

Cause on one hand you have murdoch. They've played his Catholic morality as being in the wrong before (I.e what lies buried and then in the future when he says watts should be allowed conversion) and as a whole the show doesn't shy away from the fact that victorians had different moral standards. And of course, if a character does something that does not mean that the author agrees with it or that the viewer should agree with it. But at the same time, he's the lead. Like we've been positioned to agree with him the whole episode for obvious reasons.

And then there's Julia who we are also supposed to sympathise with, arguably more. Her and Rebecca are arguing that abortion is alright and they're both 'good guys.'

I'd argue that in season 2, at least in my reading, we are supposed to view julia having an abortion as a fair reason for murdoch to break up with her. Idk this whole episode feels very murky. It's a great episode and I go back to it all the time, but murky none the less.

[feydrautha]

The more you think about it, the most pressing question about Fenoglio's Inkheart isn't "who in the hell was the protagonist of it?" (it's either Cosimo, the Prince, or, y'know, the guy the literal title refers to - or all three of them), but rather "what in the raging hell was the Shadow's deal?" considering he was immortal, implied to be invincible, could only be destroyed by being rewritten, and as much of an asshole as his boss to the point where you wonder how this guy was dealt with in-story unless the ending saw Capricorn not just get away with everything but also win

[febuwhump]

Just wanted to thank you for putting feeding tube on alt prompts list! 🥺💜 I was seriously worried it won't make it!

bro. bro. you need to know how close you came to not having it.

it was not on the list until about 3 minutes before posting. it missed being in the top 28 by about 30 votes. it's not in my top 10. but my consicence was burdened. I knew a singular person on this planet would be sad. and I checked the stats. over 300 votes for feeding tube were the only vote of that submission. if we take out every obvious attempt at voter fraud it would immediately place this prompt in the bottom 20 at best. and yet. I felt bad. you campaigned so hard. you would be so sad. I decided not to switch it out. then. I looked at old prompts to check we didn't have any major repetitions before posting. I saw that immortality was a prompt last year that featured on my new alternate list. I recalled it was switched out a lot. I decided. to swap in. feeding tube.

idk what rituals you do or bunny rabbit feet you own but feeding tube being on this list is the exact cross-section of compassion, timing and obscene luck.

congratulations

[00fairylights00]

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3 

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature. 

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with. 

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel. 

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat. 

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk. 

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily. 

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling. 

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach. 

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely. 

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.” 

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness. 

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention. 

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for. 

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his. 

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head. 

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings. 

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided, 

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite. 

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly. 

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day. 

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail. 

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind. 

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.” 

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss. 

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

me trying to explain to people why i fantasise exclusively about evil, feral, and/or deranged women who could easily kill me:

[the-wreck-of-1852]

uh oh watching xxi and im so fucking unwell…. NEED to kill the director of this episode because that sequence of flint breaking down in his cabin is SOOOO fucking good. how 3/4 of the scene is shot from behind flint so he’s left in shadow and the only time we see his face it’s only half of it… as if his grief and rage and pain is still something only he can see… and even at the end, when we are so close to seeing his full face, the camera slowly backs away and hides him from view with the table, as if warning us that this view into flint is not for us. we hover so close to the edge— we are right over his shoulder, we see his shaking hands, we see him slump, we hear him sob— but we are not allowed in. the cinematography really reinforces the message that no one, not flint’s crew, not silver, and not even us, the audience, gets to see the shattered man underneath, because that undoes it all. that breaks the illusion of the monster of the high seas. and that’s the last thing they can afford to do now.

[jackgoodfellow]

"Something terrible has happened!"

- actual voiced dialogue from Astarion after he accidentally drank my character to death XD

Meanwhile, Timber is revived from death like, "Let me drink your blood, he said!!! It'll be fine, he said!!!! -- Oh I'll SHOW you FINE, YOU UN-SUBTLE MOTHERFUCKER." (I killed him. He got better though.)

[d0d0-b0i]

it really feels strange that you can just straight up not do things if you choose to. went home instead of going to a class and the gods didnt strike me down for my negligence. what the hell?

[polite--cat]

reports are getting more and more serious about franco having an alpine role next year and I'm so torn between a) its good for him to move/get loaned to a team with a bit more money and a more stable car & hopefully keep up the momentum a bit and b) NO NOT ALPINE!! ANYONE BUT ALPINE!!

[twicearoundthebend]

worstie wolverine backstory thoughtssss

What if it wasn’t a group of anti mutants that stormed the mansion - what if it was weapon x coming specifically to take Logan back

I’m going to ramble and I’m not fact checking so like - ramble back and correct me if you want

Logan had fucked off to get drunk again. Scott had pleaded as he left, but it was getting easier and easier to tune his voice out. Logan didn’t want a family, he didn’t want to be a guard dog, he wanted to be left alone. The cold of the bar was comforting, familiar - much more familiar than the warmth of the x mansion. He’d settled down to numb his brain till his thoughts froze over, but didn’t reach that point.

Instead, a news broadcast started. The reporter said it was a ‘mutant hate group’ and looking at the carnage he didn’t blame her, but she was wrong. Those uniforms, those faces, he knew them. He’d escaped them, he thought he’d destroyed them, but here they were murdering the people who’d taken him in.

Weapon X.

-

He’d ran to the mansion. Heart in his throat and lungs burning, but he was too late. The x-men were all dead, and the group of scientists and soldiers had left the scene. He’d left them, they’d pleaded for him to stay, and he’d left them to get attacked by his own demons.

He searched through all the bodies, checked over and over for signs of life, but there was nothing. Just vacant stares and still pulses.

A few hours in, he heard a wheeze. He whipped around, scanning, hoping beyond all hope, only for his eyes to land on a Weapon X soldier with vines growing through his chest.

Within a second he was looming over the soldier, ready to do anything for information. But he didn’t even get the satisfaction of torturing the information out of him. The soldier spat the truth out at him, gloating at his pain.

Weapon X had come to the mansion to retrieve Logan. To take him back to be studied, torn apart and put back together over and over again. To take his DNA and turn it into anything they set their minds to. They’d tracked him here, but when they broke through the doors he was nowhere to be found. They hadn’t planned to kill the x-men, but when no one would reveal any information about Logan, they tried to torture the information out. None would give anything up.

“After we’d asked such incriminating questions, they had to die. Can’t have any loose ends, can we? You’re a top secret weapon, Wolverine, and one we desperately want back in our possession.” The soldier managed to sneer around his pain, still looking at Logan like he was less than human. “Death of filth like them isn’t death, it’s mercy.” His face contorted, and before Logan could lop his head off, his eyes went hazy, and his breath stopped.

They had been here for him. They’d murdered the x-men for protecting him. Their last breaths had been spent fighting for him, while he’d been getting pissed. Broken bodies all around him - he couldn’t find anything inside of him besides overwhelming guilt.

[regulusrules]

ides of march survivors, how are we doing? any ideas what will happen next act?