#(people from the south this is all in good faith i promise this ain’t real beef)

[pencilscratchins]

as a new yorker i am SO sorry you live in jersey you don't seem like the kind of person to deserve something like that

enjoy your piss city

[rainbowwritesthings]

A Place On Earth

Yanking the door open with Butchers name on his lips, he came face to face with MM and Butcher standing a bit of a way behind him. The events that lead to that point crashed into him and his heart became deafening in his ears, he could feel the knife buried into his ribs but couldn’t feel the object no matter how much he grasped at it. 

Second chapter of I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight.

Hughie stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking at the shocking white that surrounded him, everything felt numb and he was brought back to when he had gotten his wisdom teeth removed years ago.

Awareness took its time visiting Hughie and when it granted him enough presence he sat up with a grunt, his chest felt oddly tight for some reason and when his hand brushed a certain area he shivered.

Some deep part of his lizard brain was screaming at him that something was wrong, that he needed to get up and leave now. Hughie had successfully gotten out of the bed when he noticed his attire, plaid pajama pants and an oversized shirt that he had never seen before.

The numbness was receding and with it Hughie realized he wasn’t in his apartment, he was in one of the safehouses. Yanking the door open with Butchers name on his lips, he came face to face with MM and Butcher standing a bit of a way behind him.

The events that lead to that point crashed into him and his heart became deafening in his ears, he could feel the knife buried into his ribs but couldn’t feel the object no matter how much he grasped at it.

Hughie couldn’t breathe again; his lungs were filled with blood and it caked his throat as thoroughly as tar. A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and Hughie fought it back with a strangled shout, loud buzzing was just barely audible over his heart.

Instead of Soldier Boy a very blurry but familiar face swam into his view, blinking hard and rubbing at his eyes Hughie was better able to see the man kneeling before him. The familiar rumble and what it was saying was lost to Hughie, as was the expression the man wore. Hughie forced air into his burning lungs.

“I- didn’t.”

It was too hard to breathe, he was drowning again, the bones from his shattered ribs were pressing into his only good lung. “I didn’t know. Swear to god I didn’t-.”

The way Butcher had looked at him with horror filled his mind and spots danced around his vision, from his shaky gaze he watched Butcher rise and walk off.

Fuck, was the man going to bring out his crowbar to see what he could come back from?

MM was suddenly kneeling before him; both his hands were held up and his posture was purposefully non-threatening. His lips moved continuously, and Hughie found himself trying to focus on them. When MM saw the spark of awareness, he tried to help the man out.

“It’s ok now, just breathe. In and out. Ain’t nothing going to happen to you while I’m here. Easy Hughie, in and out.”

He began taking exaggerated breaths and Hughie tried to match them with unsuccess, time disappeared and was filled with Hughie taking in shuttering breaths to match MM’s exaggerated ones with occasional praises from the medic about how Hughie was doing.

Finally oxygen was reaching it’s necessary locations in his body and Hughie realized he was sitting on the floor. He glanced around the room wide eyed, searching for something but even Hughie didn’t know what he was looking for.

MM had lowered his hands and gave the man a small smile, “there we go. Now, I’m going to grab you some water ok?”

Hughie gave a jerky nod and as MM rose to retrieve said water, he wondered where the rest were. Though he mainly wondered were Butcher had stalked off to after his brief appearance. MM made sure he was noticed before he crouched in front of him, every move was steady and easy for the shaken man to be able to track.

When he held out the water bottle Hughie thanked him, though he knew that his words were likely to jumbled for the other to understand when even he, the man speaking couldn’t understand what words escaped his lips.

It wasn’t until Hughie was reaching out to grab the bottle that he realized how badly his hand was shaking and he needed both hands to even grip the plastic. He took two sips under MM’s watchful eye before setting it down now to him, most likely making sure the man didn’t drown while trying to drink.

Hughie had calmed down from his earlier moment of panic, but now fear had replaced the panic that consumed him.

“What- “

He cleared his throat in hopes that the other words he had to say would come out less cracked.

“What’s the plan?”

MM rose an eyebrow at the question and Hughie wished he would just rip the band-aid off and tell him already. Explain to him how they were going to finish him and what they would do with the pieces, logically Hughie knew his true corpse would most likely resemble Translucants’s remains.

“So far the plan is to stay low, figure some things out before putting together a real plan on how to take care of SB.”

Despite MM not saying the full name, Hughie still flinched and saw those hazel eyes staring absolutely bored over his whole existence. MM didn’t say anything but was watching Hughie intently after discussing the groups plan of action, no matter how flimsy it currently sounded.

“No, I mean- What’s the plan for me? How are you going to-“

Hughie couldn’t finish the question. The words got trapped in his throat, stuck around the thick blood that was creeping ever forward. His chest felt tight once again.

MM wasn’t looking at him now but when he did look at Hughie his eyes displayed his inner distress, “Hughie man, we ain’t going to kill you.”

Hughie felt a sudden burst of hysteria.

“Don’t lie to try and protect my feelings MM. I fucking died alright?! Yet here I am! I’m a godamn Supe and who the fuck knows what powers I have. You, Frenchie and Kimiko may learn to be ok with that but Butcher-. He stared at me like I was a monster and I’m with him on that one.”

MM’s face morphed into a scowl, he obviously wanted to fight everything Hughie had said but instead he bit his tongue, and he shook his head.

“Almost everything you just said was bullshit man, and you need to listen close when I say that no matter what you can do it’ll never make you a monster.”

Hughie believed that MM believed his own words, but that didn’t change the fact he was a Supe in a relationship with a man who hated Supes more than anything. Personally he would rather everything that was going to happen, happen now rather than waiting for months for the other shoe to drop.

When it did Hughie doubted there’d be much left of him anywhere- and oh god his father.

“Ok, ok. Look MM you need to promise me something.”

The man gave him a long look before sighing, “I won’t promise anything ‘till I hear what it is. I learned my lesson a long time ago with Butcher.”

Hughie nodded and took a steading breath before he went forward.

“Look when I die for real and permanently, however that works. You have to give my dad an actual body to bury. I don’t care if Frenchie fixes up a mannequin, he won’t look that close once he thinks it’s me, but he needs a place to actually mourn at. I don’t- he can’t spend the rest of his life waiting for me to come home, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Somewhere in Hughie’s youth he developed an intense fear of going missing, not just because of what it meant for Hughie and the whole human trafficking thing. Mainly the fear surrounded what effect it would have on his father.

Hughie’s mother walking out the door and dissolving into the mist had crushed a large part of the man’s soul. If his son were to do the same, it would destroy whatever was left of Hugh.

MM looked at him with a hard expression before he let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, I promise.”

Hughie let out a breath of relief, at least his father would find some semblance of peace though he knew it wouldn’t ease the pain. MM was staring at him again and Hughie gave him a weak smile, which caused the man to shake his head and stand up.

“I don’t know what’s goin’ on inside that head of yours, but I can tell you it’s way off.”

Hughie let out a small huff of laughter, and MM looked down with an odd expression.

“Now first of all, don’t panic. Butcher has something he wants to say to you. We’ll all be in the other room just in case things go south, but you should hear him out.”

Instantly Hughie’s heart picked up, thrumming adrenaline throughout his body by the mere idea of the man glowering down at him. However, MM looked so assured that everything would be alright that Hughie could only nod numbly.

He already had the man’s assurance that his father would have proper closure, Hughie couldn’t very well demand more from the group after unintentionally fooling them for however long he had compound V running through his veins.

MM leaned down to clasp Hughie’s shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze, before nodding one last time and leaving the room.

Hughie stared at the suspiciously stained floor underneath of him, looking for answers about what he was or even just a purpose for all that he had been through meant. He heard a door open, heavy footstep pausing just briefly in the doorframe before the door creaked shut.

For many people being so close to an inevitable demise would act as a chance to confirm their faith or find a new. Any other person would be considering their fate, trying to make amends with everything that they had done wrong and begging for forgiveness.

Yet all Hughie could think of was memories his mother’s smile as she prompted a dance to a Billy Joel song. His father who had been through agony but still tried to stay approachable for his son, and who tried to maintain a bond with Hughie.

Robin who made him feel alive and like a human for the first time in his life, who cracked his shell wide open and let him experience how fun everything could be. Kimiko who was often so closed off but still learned ASL with him, she figured it long before he did but took the time to help him along so they could talk freely.

Frenchie would always call him petite and smile like he was legitimately happy to see him every time the pair met up. It didn’t matter if it had been days since Hughie saw him or just hours, the man always seemed excited to see him alive.

Mother’s Milk was a mother hen, always pestering Hughie about how much he was eating or sleeping, all with concern hidden firmly under a strong exterior.

Annie, who he now considered his closest and best friend. She would be the angriest towards Butcher when the man figured out how to kill a Lazarus Supe, with any luck they wouldn’t kill each other in the fallout of the reveal.

Finally Billy, who hated Supes as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Perhaps it was the thing keeping him alive, allowing him to survive things that no mortal could have lived through.

Hughie could remember Billy’s arms around him, pulling him firmly against his body whether it was when they were wrapped together post cotial, or in the early morning when Butcher woke up long before he did and held the younger man tightly.

He could hear Billy whispering in his ear how the man would keep Hughie safe, no matter the cost. Finally, he could see Billy staring down at him with a look of pure despair as he watched Hughie bleed out.

Hughie knew that the despair was driven out of his apparent death and that considering what he was now that he would be lucky beyond belief if Butcher would even look at him without animosity.

His gaze kept firmly onto the floor until dark clothed legs stepped in front of him, familiar boots filled his vision and despite his best-efforts Hughie’s breath still caught in his chest. Hughie watched as dark legs bent and Butcher was kneeling in front of him, but kept his eyes away from the older mans face.

It wasn’t until Butcher let out a breath that could be mistaken for a sigh that Hughie braved a look at the other man. Butchers face was tight, every stress line was exasperated, and his lips were pulled together.

Butcher’s jaw worked for a long few moments before he looked back up, “alright lad just hear me out.”

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 3

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

ONE WEEK LATER

OUTSKIRTS OF BLACKWATER

Steadily moving his line of sight just along the distant horizon, Shay Mackintosh kept a close eye on the bank in Blackwater as a number of customers went in and out, completely oblivious to the gang that lurked no more than a stone’s throw away from them.

At the moment, the town seemed pretty calm. Normal. Ordinary. Not nearly as hostile as the last time Shay set foot there. That must’ve meant that the people had either grown too comfortable with their lives, or that there was someone else guarding the perimeter for them. And considering the rumors of Pinkertons roaming around Tall Trees, Shay assumed it was the latter.

...Dammit, he mentally cursed to himself. 

The last thing the Van der Lindes needed to worry about right now were Pinkertons. Dutch was already close to losing his mind as it was, and with the Skinner Brothers’ growing presence in West Elizabeth, Shay doubted the man would be calming down anytime soon.

If federal agents started going after them... well, he didn’t even wanna think about the chaos they’d cause.

Though... this could’ve been a blessing in disguise, depending on how one looked at it. As money-hungry as their gang was, Shay could see that everyone was anxious to get out of West Elizabeth and move on somewhere safer. Somewhere that didn’t have lawmen or rival gangs prowling around every corner.

A few of the other members had already expressed their concerns surrounding the upcoming robbery in Blackwater, and with the presence of Pinkertons now being an issue, Shay expected there would be even more infighting back at their hideout.

If too many threats presented themselves at the same time... perhaps Dutch would finally see sense and agree to relocate their camp. 

But... then again, that could’ve just been wishful thinking on Shay’s part. Dutch was known for his stubbornness, after all, and Mackintosh couldn’t remember the last time their leader ever swayed his mind about something without raising hell about it first.

If he truly had his mind set on robbing this godforsaken bank, then... Shay supposed that was what they’d do. Dutch was the boss in the end of the day, and his word was practically law.

It didn’t mean Shay wasn’t worried, though. 

“Mackintosh...!” A man’s voice suddenly called out from behind, cutting off Shay’s train of thought. 

The outlaw whipped around in alarm and instantly reached for his pistol, only to come to a halt once he saw who it was.

“Jesus, Arthur...!” he whispered in a startled tone. “I nearly blew your goddamn head off. Thought you was one of them Skinner boys.”

The older man chuckled, crouching down so that he was at the same level as Shay.

“I’ll try not to take that as an insult. What’re you doin’ out here?”

Mackintosh returned to his binoculars, focusing the lenses. “Dutch asked me to scout the place out before we move in. He wanted to know what we’re dealin’ with.”

Arthur leaned closer to Shay and squinted his eyes, trying to follow the man’s gaze. “...And? You see anything worth noting? How many guards are at that bank?”

“Well... I’ve counted about a dozen so far, though there could be more I’m not seeing. They switch every once in a while, but it ain’t often. Not many openings for us to charge in.” 

Shay lowered his binoculars for a second, turning to face Arthur. “...I won’t lie to you, Morgan. It’s gonna be difficult to rob this bank. The whole thing’s under heavy guard, and there are Pinkertons wanderin’ in the streets now. It’d be a huge risk to grab this score, even with all our men.”

The other man held his hand out. “Here. Lemme take a look.”

Passing the device over to Arthur, Shay patiently stood by as the man thoroughly scanned the area, picking up every detail he possibly could.

“Yeah...” Arthur muttered worriedly, “...security’s gotten real tight in Blackwater, that’s for sure.”

“And you still think it’s a good idea to hit this town?” Shay questioned.

“It don’t matter what I think,” Morgan replied. “It ain’t up to me.”

“No, but I imagine you still have a mind of your own, don’t you? As well as your own concerns.”

The older man gave him a cautionary side glance. “It sounds like you’ve got some, Mackintosh. Care to share?”

Shay sighed in a defeated manner. “Look, I know Dutch thinks this’ll be a easy score since Blackwater’s such a small town, but small doesn’t always mean easy. It just means more concentrated. I mean, look at this place.”

He gestured to the settlement in front of them. “Blackwater’s essentially one, giant square. All the buildings are more-or-less in the same area, and it ain’t nearly as convoluted as the other cities we’ve hit. There are fewer blind spots to worry about. Fewer entrances to keep an eye on. Fewer places for us to hide if things go south. And there’s also the fact that Pinkertons have been seen in Tall Trees. If this plan goes awry--”

“--It won’t.” Arthur interrupted.

“...If it does,” Shay reiterated, “we’ll be dead men. The law will have no problems cagin’ us in, and we’ll be hanged on the spot.”

As much as Arthur hated to admit it, the man had a point. Blackwater wasn’t exactly the ideal place for an outlaw to be right now, and with all the threats surrounding them in this area, he couldn’t deny that he thought they might’ve been better off staying the hell away from this town.

But even then, his thoughts were irrelevant. No matter what his opinions were, it was Dutch who always had the final say, and Arthur knew damn well that a few lawmen strolling about wouldn’t be enough to scare the old man off.

If they were going to convince Dutch to leave Blackwater alone, they’d need one hell of a good reason. And at the moment, Arthur couldn’t think of one.

“Look,” Arthur said, keeping his voice down, “I hear you, Shay. But like I said before, it ain’t my choice whether we stick around or not. That’s Dutch’s decision.”

Shay persisted. “Well, yeah, but you’re the only one he actually listens to. That’s why I’m tellin’ you this, Morgan. If you speak with Dutch, he might see where we’re coming from.”

Arthur put the binoculars down. “And if he doesn’t, we risk being accused of being traitors.”

Mackintosh quirked a brow. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“That’s how Dutch’s mind works now,” Morgan explained. “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but he’s a paranoid mess these days. He values loyalty above everything else in this world, and in his head, loyalty means you don’t question anything he does. If I bring up our concerns about this robbery and Dutch doesn’t see reason, he’ll lose all his faith in us. I’ve seen previous gang members get shot over less.”

Shay’s expression froze with shock. “Jesus. I knew Dutch was unstable, but that’s downright lunacy.”

Arthur sighed in frustration. “He ain’t a lunatic. He’s just...” he trailed off, unable to find the right words. “...look, forget it. Let’s just get back to camp. I’m sure Dutch is waiting to hear what we’ve found.”

Shay took his binoculars back, sliding them into his satchel. “And then you’ll have a word with him?”

The other man rose to his feet, nodding in response. “I’ll... I’ll see what I can do. I ain’t gonna promise anything, but I’ll try to make him see reason.”

Mackintosh followed Arthur’s actions and returned to his horse, preparing to head back to camp. “Thank you, Arthur. That’s all I ask. Lots of folk are nervous about this robbery, and I wouldn’t wanna see half our gang get wiped out all because of one mistake.”

Arthur thought back to the ferry job they did eight years ago, not even bothering to point out the extreme irony in Shay’s statement.

“...No,” he settled for, sounding much more regretful than before. “We wouldn’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A LITTLE LATER

AURORA BASIN

Opening the door to Dutch’s cabin, Arthur and Shay both sauntered into the cold living room as the smell of lingering smoke smacked them in the face, causing the latter to let out a series of coughs.

At the moment, Dutch was mindlessly chewing on the tip of a freshly-lit pipe and steadily pacing around the room, allowing him to think more intently as he listened to Micah prattle on about some nonsense.

It looked like the other man had just returned from his own journey, judging by the heavy satchel slung over his shoulder. There didn’t seem to be much in it other than a few dead rabbits, and considering the fact that there was still some blood on Micah’s glove, Arthur assumed the man had been out hunting.

About time he did something useful, Arthur thought. The man rarely ever lifted a finger around camp other than to swat flies, and when he wasn’t irritating the hell out of the other gang members, he was back in this cabin, doing whatever he could to lick Dutch’s boots. Though, this time... the tone of Micah’s voice suggested he may have been here for another reason.

“Shay! Arthur!” Dutch barked once his gaze landed on the two new guests in his cabin. “You’re back. What did you learn?”

“The bank’s locked up tight, Dutch,” Mackintosh answered, stepping closer to him. “We counted about a dozen guards standing outside of it, and I also spotted some new security measures while we was there. They’ve got more walls. More gates. More places to trap us if we ain’t careful. This is gonna be a risky job no matter how many people we bring.”

The older man didn’t seem pleased. “Well, that’s good to know, but I thought I told you to be discreet.”

Shay blinked in confusion. “We... were. We didn’t set a single foot in Blackwater and scouted it from the outskirts. Just like you said.”

“Oh, is that so? Then why is it that there’s someone in town looking for us?”

Arthur jumped in, his interest now piqued. “Wait, there is?”

Dutch gestured to Micah. “Yeah, Micah saw him. He was just telling me about it before you boys walked in. Said he spotted them in the saloon.”

The other man nodded casually. “Sure did. It was a young man. About this tall. Blonde. I didn’t catch his name, but he was askin’ all sorts of folk if they knew who the Van der Lindes were. Also if they knew Dutch. He seemed pretty determined to find us. Luckily, he didn’t notice me.”

Arthur rubbed his chin, suddenly feeling a lot less confident about bringing up his concerns to Dutch. “...Shit. Was he a lawman?”

Micah shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. He didn’t look like one. Didn’t have no shiny badge neither. My guess is he’s a bounty hunter.”

Shay furrowed his brows. “A single bounty hunter tracking us down all by himself? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Arthur took on a more cautionary tone. “Who says he’s by himself? You’d have to be a fool to fight a gang on your own. It’s most-likely he’s got more friends that we haven’t seen yet.”

Micah shrugged. “That, or he doesn’t realize how close he is to us. Probably thinks he’s still got a ways to go before worryin’ about any sort of fighting. After all, no one expects to find what’s right under their nose.”

Mackintosh changed the subject. “Either way, if this man’s asking questions all around town, he’s gonna draw attention to us. We need to deal with him before anyone else takes an interest.”

“He’s right,” Arthur agreed, turning to Dutch. “You want us to deal with him, Dutch? We can go back to Blackwater. Take him out right now.”

“No.” The man responded, causing all three of them to fall silent.

“...No?” Micah asked, significantly more concerned now. “But if we don’t kill him now, he’s bound to find our camp later.”

Dutch grinned deviously at that. “Exactly. It’s too risky for us to attack him when he’s in the heart of civilization. There are too many obstacles. Too many guards. Too many people. So, instead... I say we let him find us. We’ll play along, let him think that we don’t know what he’s doing, and when he finally comes waltzing into the lion’s den -- that’s when we’ll strike.”

“But what if he’s not alone?” Arthur pointed out. “We’ll have an entire group of bounty hunters right on our doorstep.”

“Then we fight.” Dutch said plainly. “We have enough men to deal with a few guns. We’ll be alright. For now, though, just stay focused on the bank. I don’t want any of you worrying about no bounty hunters unless we have to. Understand?”

The three of them exchanged looks for a moment, ultimately deciding that it wasn’t worth an argument.

“Of course, Dutch,” Micah finally complied. “You’re the boss.”

The older man appeared satisfied with that answer. “Good. Now get back to work. All of you. This bank ain’t gonna open itself.”

Ending the conversation there, Dutch put his smoking pipe away and gave a simple wave of the hand, signaling for everyone to return to their lives while he wandered back to his rocking chair.

Shay and Micah were already halfway out the front door by the time Dutch took a seat, but as always, Arthur remained the odd one out and stayed in place, pondering what he should do next.

Unbeknownst to him however, he wasn’t the only one thinking.

“...I know that look, Arthur.” Dutch remarked, his back turned to him. “I’ve known it for the past eight years. There’s somethin’ you wanna say, isn’t there?”

The younger outlaw hesitated for a second, unsure of whether he should tell the truth.

“...Yeah...” he grumbled out, “but you ain’t gonna like it.”

Dutch chuckled. “Try me.”

Walking up to Dutch, Arthur took a while to gather his thoughts before joining the other man’s side, stopping to lean against a nearby table. He still wasn’t entirely certain if he wanted to express his true thoughts to his friend, but deep down, Arthur knew that what Mackintosh said at Blackwater had merit in it.

“...I think we should leave Blackwater alone.” Arthur admitted at last, earning a puzzled look from Dutch.

The older outlaw paused for a moment, wrapping his head around what the other just said.

“Leave Blackwater... alone?” He repeated, clearly not on board with the idea.

“It’s too risky, Dutch. We don’t even know if the bank is worth it. We’ve got no idea how much cash is really bein’ held in that vault, and on top of that, there’s a shit ton of guards patrolling the area. You heard Shay back there. They’ll shoot us down before we even reach the building.”

 “Which probably means there’s a lot of money just sittin’ in there waiting to be stolen! Why else would the security be so tight?”

Arthur knew he was going to say that. “And what about these Pinkertons? We’ve all heard the rumors. They’ve been seen in Tall Trees, Dutch. That’s right outside our camp! All they have to do is take one wrong step, and they’ll be on top of us before we know it. We have to leave now. We don’t want a repeat of what happened in Blackwater eight years ago. You remember the chaos that led to?”

Dutch sighed. “Of course I do. But we won’t make that mistake again. This time, we’ll be better prepared.”

The younger man held his hands out in a perplexed manner. “How? We have even fewer men than we did for the ferry job, and the bounty on our heads is bigger than ever. How are our chances gonna be any higher for this score?”

“Because we have you now.” Dutch said. “You wasn’t with us for the ferry job, and neither was Hosea. And look how that turned out.” 

He stood up from his chair and placed a reassuring hand on Arthur’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “But we have your help this time. Hosea may not be with us anymore, but I know for a fact you wouldn’t let me down, son. I have no doubts that this job’ll go just fine.”

Arthur saw right through the flattery and put his hands on his hips, completely at a loss for words.

There was nothing he could say or do that would convince Dutch to leave Blackwater, was there? The man was entirely obsessed with the city by now, and Arthur knew that at the heart of it, none of this really had anything to do with the money in the first place. It was purely about Dutch’s pride.

He knew that Dutch still hadn’t gotten over what happened to them all those years ago, and he knew that the old man wouldn’t take his eyes off this town until he managed to pull off a successful score. 

He was falling victim to his own insanity, and Arthur had no other choice but to try and pull him away from the edge. It was one hell of a risky move to make, but he decided it’d be worth it.

Arthur let out a remorseful breath and lowered his head, almost whispering his next words.

“...You’re losin’ yourself, Dutch.” He said vehemently. “I can see it everyday. More and more of the old you is just... vanishing.”

The older outlaw appeared taken aback by the abrupt notion and narrowed his eyes, almost looking offended.

“Losing myself?” He replied, his voice dangerously calm. “...How so?”

Arthur gestured vaguely at the room around them. “Look at what we’re doing, Dutch. How many men have we lost just tryin’ to reach Blackwater? Not to mention actually stealing from it. Our gang is dyin’ out here. This area’s too dangerous for the likes of us, and yet... we won’t leave. You won’t leave. The Dutch I know would’ve packed his bags long ago.”

The other man fell silent at that and tightened his lips, making an expression that said Arthur had just crossed the line.

“You think I’m losin’ myself.” Dutch parroted once again, his tone completely flat. “You think... I’m... losing. Myself.”

He took a few steps away from Arthur and began pacing around the room, chuckling to himself in a heartbroken manner.

“...Hosea is dead, Arthur,” Dutch stated, sounding more feral with every passing second. “John is a traitor. My health is deteriorating, we have the law on our tail, and now, the only son I have left thinks I’ve gone crazy--”

The tyrannical man brought his gaze back to Arthur, his eyes wide open with madness.

“Of course, I’m losing myself, Arthur! Wouldn’t you? This world... has gone to shit! Civilization has no room for folk like us, and even within our own world of murderers, thieves, and rapists -- we are still tearing ourselves apart! I have sacrificed everything to keep this gang afloat, even when we went through hell! You are my family, Arthur. You, Hosea, John, Miss Grimshaw... you were all my family. But just like the rest of them, you’re startin’ to lose faith in me too!”

Dutch pulled his revolver out, blatantly aiming the weapon at Arthur.

“Are you gonna leave me, Arthur? You gonna turn your back on me and leave me to the goddamn wolves, just like the rest of them? Are you a snake?”

Arthur held his hands up, absolutely bewildered by Dutch’s deranged response.

“What? No! I’m right here, Dutch. I ain’t gonna leave you.”

“That’s what they all said,” the older man dismissed, evidently unconvinced. “That’s what they all tried to tell me. But when it really mattered, they all--”

Coming to an abrupt halt, Dutch’s words were cut off when he was suddenly struck by a coughing fit, causing him to drop his gun as his entire body heaved uncontrollably.

“Dutch!” Arthur exclaimed out of concern, rushing over to him.

The man continued to cough aggressively and hurriedly searched for his chair, desperately wanting to sit down as he leaned on Arthur for support.

“Easy, Dutch...” he comforted, helping the man into his seat. “Just... take it easy.”

Setting Dutch down, Arthur kept a firm grip on him until he was sure he wouldn’t keel over and stood patiently at his side, waiting until the man’s coughing fit calmed down.

“You okay there, old man?” He asked. Dutch coughed a few more times, eventually hacking up some blood before spitting it on the floor.

Arthur eyed the blood with a worried glance, trying to hide how frightened he truly was about the man’s health.

“Jesus...” he murmured. “Dutch, I’m sorry--”

“--Don’t.” The other man interrupted, wiping his mouth clean. “I don’t want no pity.”

Finally back to his normal state, Dutch let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, clearly worn out from the havoc his own body just put him through. His skin was much paler now, and just by listening to the shaky rhythm of his breath, Arthur could tell he was getting weaker and weaker by the minute. 

It wouldn’t be that long now before he was at Hosea’s side again. The only doctor who could’ve possibly given Dutch some sort of treatment was all the way in Blackwater, and even if they somehow managed to sneak him past all the law, Arthur doubted there was anything they could do to save him.

Dutch’s life was quite literally slipping out of his grasp these days, and much like everything else they had lost in the past few years, there was no way they could get it back. 

Even with Arthur at his side.

“...R’you gonna be okay, Dutch?” Morgan asked solemnly, despite the obvious answer.

The outlaw shook his head, throwing a glare at him. “What d’you think?”

Arthur’s shoulders slouched in despondency. “I know, I know. Stupid question. I just...”

He cleared his throat, deciding to drop the subject. “...Never mind. Forget I said anything. Just... take care of yourself, alright? None of us wanna see you go too soon.”

Dutch nodded in response, admittedly curious about what Arthur was going to say.

“I’ll try, son.” He reassured, his voice much softer now. “You know me. I was born to be an outlaw. All the way to the end. And I intend to go out like one.”

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE HOUR LATER

BLACKWATER SALOON

Humming quietly to himself, Isaac relaxed on the edge of his bed as he gently cleaned the Springfield rifle in his grasp, preparing for the storm ahead. It had taken him nearly three months to get to where he was now, but after all the traveling and searching and questioning... he was finally close to reaching the Van der Linde gang. And to killing Shay Mackintosh.

It was strange, Isaac found, to think about everything he had been through these past fifteen years. At the start of this hurricane, he was nothing more than a boy merely trying to survive with the men who killed his mother, but now... he was the one delivering them to Hell’s gate.

He knew it probably meant nothing to the people around him -- and some might’ve even considered him crazy for pursuing revenge for so long, but ever since Eliza’s death -- Isaac had had this sense of hatred burning inside him that he just... couldn’t let go.

It was always there. No matter what he did. Even when he smiled, or laughed, or cried... he could feel it growing within him like a parasite.

There were some days when Isaac managed to go from dawn to dusk without a single thought of what happened to him, but late at night, when he’d delve into his dreams, the same nightmare would come back every single time to haunt him, and he’d see her face again. Hear her final words. Her final breath. And the next morning... he’d have a gun in his hand, ready to hunt down the men responsible for her suffering.

It was agonizing sometimes, to deal with such a unique rage. Isaac wanted nothing more than to settle down somewhere and live a normal life, but every time his memories reminded him of the horrific murder, he’d feel the same hatred growing inside him again and set out on his journey for vengeance, craving the blood of those who wronged him.

Perhaps that made him a monster in some people’s eyes. Isaac recalled Minister Swanson mentioning that he saw something darker in the boy’s heart, but to him, this was the only path that made sense.

There was no justice out in the Wild West, after all. You were either the victim, or the victor. If Isaac didn’t go after Mackintosh himself, Lord knew that no one else would. And on top of that, he figured his mother deserved to rest in peace after fifteen years of watching her killers wander freely.

It was what Eliza would’ve wanted, Isaac imagined, and he wasn’t going to forget it.

Sighing in discontent, Isaac set the rifle down and stared aimlessly at the window in front of him, admittedly feeling somewhat torn about these upcoming weeks.

What was he going to do when he found Mackintosh? What was he going to say? Would the man even recognize him after all these years? Would Isaac recognize Shay?

Well, whatever happened, one thing was clear. Mackintosh had to die. However or whenever that came to be, Isaac didn’t care. The only thing that concerned him was landing the killing blow.

Mackintosh was the one who pulled the trigger when Eliza died, so Isaac only deemed it fitting that he’d be the one bring it into a full circle.

He may’ve not had any family left, but by God was he going to avenge them.

Interrupting Isaac’s thoughts, a knock suddenly came from the door and averted the young man’s attention, causing him to stand up from the bed.

“Just a moment!” He called out, quickly slipping into his coat before striding to the entrance.

Swinging the door open, Isaac found himself face-to-face with a rugged-looking man. He had graying blond hair, a horseshoe mustache, cold-blue eyes, and a special kind of demeanor to him that shouted “degenerate.”

The visitor threw a casual wave at him, clearly not realizing what sort of impression he gave off.

“Hey there, cowpoke,” he greeted, his tone oozing with connivance. “...Mind if we talk for a minute?”

Isaac subtly kept a hand on his pistol, trying to conceal his mistrust. “That depends. Who are you? What d’you want?”

The man chuckled. “Suspicious one, ain’t you? Have no fear...” he held his hands up, “I ain’t here for that. In fact, I’m here to help you.”

That didn’t make Isaac feel any better. “That so? Well then, why don’t you answer my first question? Who are you?”

He placed an introductory hand on his chest. “Relax, princess. The name’s Micah. As for what I want, well... I couldn’t help but overhear your conversations with some of the folk downstairs, and it sounds to me like you’re lookin’ for the Van der Linde gang. Am I right?”

Isaac nodded slowly. “...Yeah. Why? You have information on them?”

Micah smirked. “More than you think. And I’m willin’ to share some of it...” He held up a finger. “For a price, of course.”

The young man wasn’t even surprised. “Of course. And how much are you willing to share?”

Micah shrugged. “That depends on how much you’re paying. Information like this don’t come cheap, boy. If you want somethin’ good, you’ll have to pay good money.”

Isaac was still hesitant to accept the deal. “Makes sense, but how do I know your information’s legitimate? Anyone can claim they know about the Van der Linde gang.”

The outlaw grinned and crossed his arms. “Aren’t you a smart cookie. Well... what if I told you I was one of them?”

The boy froze, uncertain of whether he should take the man seriously. “...You’re just pullin’ my leg now. Why the hell would a Van der Linde talk to me if they knew I was lookin’ for them? How does this benefit you?”

Micah sighed in a melodramatic tone. “It pains me to say it, but our current leader, Dutch van der Linde... let’s just say he ain’t doin’ too good.”

“Speak plainly,” Isaac said. “What d’you mean?”

“He’s ill.” Micah explained. “With what, we don’t know. But he’s withering away with each passing day, and it don’t look like there’s much chance of him getting better. Thing is, though...” he leaned on the doorframe, “he has yet to clarify who’s gonna take his place once he’s gone. And at the moment, he’s got two people in mind. One of ‘em being me.”

It didn’t take long for Isaac to catch on. “So, you want me to get rid of your competition?”

Micah shook his head. “Not yet. First, I wanna see what you’re capable of. I’ll give you the information you need, see if you actually manage to find us, and then I’ll know whether you’re just some yellow-bellied pretty boy, or if you really know how to handle that rifle. Then, we can move on to... other business.”

Isaac considered the offer, admittedly still somewhat hesitant to do business with this man.

As strange as it may’ve seemed, Micah actually sounded like he was being genuine. He spoke about the Van der Lindes as if he actually knew them, and his information had been pretty specific so far. 

The only part that confused Isaac was why he would be so willing to endanger his fellow gang members. It was widely-known that outlaws weren’t the type to practice camaraderie -- Isaac had seen that for himself -- but even this was a new low.

Still, it wasn’t his concern what the Van der Lindes were up to. As long as Micah’s information got him closer to Mackintosh, nothing else truly mattered.

“...Alright,” Isaac finally agreed. “I’ll buy your information, Micah.”

The outlaw smiled slyly. “Glad to hear it. How much you paying?”

The young man quickly thought of an offer. “...Fifteen bucks.”

Micah looked impressed. “Good, but not good enough. How’s about we bump it up to twenty?”

“Seventeen.”

“Eighteen.”

Isaac settled with that. “Done.”

Micah shook his hand, a little too happy about where this was going. 

“Pleasure doin’ business with you, mister. I promise... you won’t regret this.”

[nyangibun]

GoT 7x07 Finale Thoughts

So it’s finally here. The finale. The epic conclusion for this epic season... lol I’m kidding. This season has been a mess and so was this episode. But as always, let’s begin to unpack the nonsense to hopefully find some sense to it all. 

We begin the episode with Grey Worm and the Unsullied and Bron and Jaime overlooking them before the Dothraki come riding up. At first, I’ll be honest, I was wondering how the hell Grey Worm managed to escape Casterly Rock while Euron surrounded the place with his ships? Of course, it’s because everyone’s going to the Dragonpit meeting and bringing the might of their armies in the case it all goes to shit. I find that interesting because if not for this meeting, I believed there was no way Grey Worm would’ve come out unscathed. I still feel like either Grey Worm or Missandei is going to die soon and it’s going to take a large toll on the other, forcing them to question their previously unwavering loyalty to Dani. 

Nevertheless, this episode isn’t about that. It was just a stray thought. Let’s move onto the next scene, which I found interesting. Jon looks towards King’s Landing and asks, “why would anyone want to live there?” which just goes to cement his love for the North. So repeat after me, Jon Snow would never be happy in King’s Landing or anywhere south of Winterfell. It’s not who he is. It’ll never be who he is because Jon Snow is loyal to the North. Although it really doesn’t feel like it this episode, we’ll get to that in a moment. 

There are a lot of reunions happening during the Dragonpit scenes. A lot of it feels very gratuitous, like D&D is all ‘look we got all your favs in one place, isn’t this cool!’ But nah D&D, what would be cool is a consistent and sensical plot with character continuity. Nevertheless, this is what we got and I did really love the interactions between Tyrion and Podrick, Tyrion and Bronn and the original OT3 together again. Also, the little exchange between Brienne and the Hound was kind of adorable, which is not an adjective I would’ve used for their relationship. I just really liked how proud they both seemed of Arya.

On this walk to the Dragonpit, there was one conversation that I paid particular attention to, which was Jorah talking about the history of the Dragonpit and why it was created:

“Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children. Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.”

We’ve already seen that this is the case with Dani’s dragons when it burnt a child and I feel like this may come up again in S8. Look, if centuries of Targaryens couldn’t control their dragons, how will Dani? She ain’t that special. Even she’s said that those dragons can’t be tamed. They’re a danger to Westeros, just as the Others are. Both ‘Ice’ and ‘Fire’ are destructive forces to the fate of the Seven Kingdoms. By the end of the story, both will die. 

Speaking of dragons, Dani flying down to the Dragonpit meeting on a dragon when last we left her she was on the boat with Jon was so extra. It was actually quite uncomfortable to watch because it was such a gratuitous scene. On the one hand, Dani is asserting her power, using her dragons to once again instil fear in her enemies. If I had dragons, I’d do it too. It’s a good power move. But on the other hand, she’s there to strike up a truce and speak calmly about a larger threat, so this feels unnecessary. The power move thus feels more arrogant and kind of dumb under the circumstances, and clearly, Cersei felt the same way. The unimpressed look she had when Dani arrived says it all. And that’s the thing. Cersei may be a cold-hearted bitch, but she stands her ground in the face of her enemies, she looks them in the eye and says, “that it?” because she refuses to let them intimidate her. It’s awesome. She’s awesome. You can’t help loving her whenever she’s on screen. 

Now we have the long awaited reveal of the wight. First of all, I still think it’s a dumb idea and will always think it’s a dumb idea, but I guess it got everyone to understand the scope of what they’re facing up North even if it is a stupid contrived way to get everyone together. There are several things I want to unpack about the following scenes, so I’m going to start with the simplest: Euron. 

He makes a great show of not wanting to face the wights and wanting to sail back to the Iron Islands and hide out there till everything is over. I honestly believed it too until Cersei revealed her real plan to have Euron bring over the Golden Company while Jon and Dani are up fighting the Others. It’s clever, it’s underhanded and it’s so completely Cersei. And finally, we see Euron being utilised. I’m actually really excited to see him play a larger role in S8, which I think he will. With that in mind, now we fast forward a little to Theon winning over Yara’s men to go save her from Euron. I’m so proud of him, so proud of his ability to fight through his PTSD to do what he feels is right and proving to people (characters & audience alike) that he’s not a coward. But now, how many men does Theon even have? Not that many from the looks of it, and Euron is about to go pick up the Golden Company. I think Theon is going to tail after Euron from a distance, figure out what they’re planning and hopefully send a raven to Jon. After all, I think it’d be pretty easy to tell that Euron isn’t sailing for the Iron Islands and is instead going to Essos. But I don’t see how Theon will successfully get Yara back. Him dying on a failed mission also feels unsatisfying after everything he’s gone through, but I also don’t see how he’ll be able to take on Euron’s fleet.

That’s speculation for another day I guess. 

Moving on, let’s get right down to it. Jon’s (dumbass) speech: 

“I am true to my word or I try to be. That is why I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens and I’ve already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen.”

And then this bit: 

“I’m not gonna swear an oath I can’t uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that’s the attitude that got him killed, but when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything, then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won’t help us in this fight.”

This speech is highly contradictory to the above speech because Jon did swear an oath and that was to the North as their king. As their king, he is to uphold his duties to them and to his people as best as he can, and that does not include giving Dani the North and pledging their allegiance to her. It doesn’t work like that. The Northern houses are proud men and women, who are loyal to their own and definitely not to a Targaryen queen, so they won’t kneel. Or did everyone forget what happened when Jon said he was going to Dragonstone?

“Your Grace, with respect I must agree with Lady Sansa. I remember the Mad King all too well. A Targaryen cannot be trusted, nor can a Lannister.“

“We called your brother king, and then he rode south and lost his kingdom.”

“Winter is here, Your Grace. We need the King in the North in the north.“

This is all seems rather foreboding and I still believe Jon is going to lose the North in S8. They’re all sailing to Winterfell now. How well would Jon be received when he arrives with Dani in tow? How well would the Northern houses take to Dani, a Targaryen? Nevertheless, what I’m trying to say is Jon swearing his fealty to Dani is a betrayal to the North in and of itself, so saying that he’s not going to swear an oath he can’t uphold is hypocritical at best because that is his first and foremost oath. 

Unless he’s not betraying it at all. Unless he’s saying it because he has no intention of not upholding his oath to the North. 

Also, it’s interesting Jon brings up Ned and how he’d rather be honest than make false promises, but that’s a lie. He made false promises to Ygritte and to the Wildlings. He’s done it all before. And what was the point of having Sansa say this to Jon if he was just going to follow the same mistakes that Ned made and subsequently that Robb made by taking up with a ‘foreign whore’ (sidenote: I hate the word ‘whore’ but I’m quoting here as it’s something Lord Glover said):

"You have to be smarter than Father. You need to be smarter than Robb. I loved them, I miss them, but they made stupid mistakes, and they both lost their heads for it.”

It would be completely pointless if after 7 seasons of character development and plot progression for Jon to be exactly like Ned and do the exact same thing as Robb and get away with it while the other two both lost their heads for it. Now I love Jon and I love his character, but if this is his trajectory, if he comes up on top, especially now it’s revealed he’s not even a bastard, that he’s the trueborn heir to the Iron Throne, then Jon Snow is starting to look a lot like Gary Stue. 

I want to believe otherwise. After all, I still have faith that D&D is leading us to the same conclusion as GRRM and he would no way want a fairytale ending for his complex and all morally grey characters. And that faith also led me to pick up on this exchange Jon has with Theon: 

“....It’s always the right step.”

“It’s not. It may seem that way from the outside. I promise you it’s not true. I’ve done plenty of things I regret.” 

So it may seem like Jon is betraying the North for Dani and his trust/love in her, but it’s not true. That’s what I took from it and what I will continue to take from this episode because I still have faith in Jon Snow. Before any anti’s come screaming at me about how I’m reaching for the sake of my ship, stop right there. I would rather Jon and Sansa end up platonic than let D&D ruin the characterisation of Jon or Sansa. Before I was a Jonsa shipper, I was a shipper of complex characters and decent sensical development, so you can leave your hate right where it is. 

Moving on again, can we please talk about Lena Heady? Can we please just stand up and give a rousing applause for Cersei ‘Badass Bitch’ Lannister? And Peter Dinklage too. That entire scene between them was so great. I’ve always really liked them together. But let’s talk about this a little. The entire conversation is dancing around their grief over Myrcella and Tommen and Cersei’s anger at Tyrion for ‘ruining’ their family, but then it ends with Tyrion realising she’s pregnant. The look he has on his face is a little like horror. At first, I thought that maybe the horror comes from the knowledge it’s another Twincest baby or that Cersei is procreating again and will it be a Joffrey or a Myrcella/Tommen? But now that I think about it, I think it’s more about the fact that Cersei will have an heir. Westerosi politics is built on these houses being able to produce heirs to carry on legacies and continuing ruling after their parents are long gone. It’s how they create stability. When there is no one true heir or no heir at all, there’s a power vacuum that causes civil wars (Dance of Dragons) and other such chaos. If Cersei has an heir but Dani doesn’t, who will the people want on the throne? At this point, Dani isn’t seen as a much better option than Cersei. She’s probably seen as a worse option since she’s a conqueror, or rather specifically, she’s Aegon the Conqueror come again. 

So let’s fast forward to the much-anticipated boatbang of the century, which was... anticlimactic. But that’s not what I want to discuss (yet). I want to talk about Tyrion standing outside the room, looking on with a strange expression on his face. Some people have suggested he’s jealous, but why would he be jealous if he’s the one that suggested to Dani that Jon is in love with her? Maybe he is, but it’s a weird way to show his jealousy. He actually steps out from the shadows and then stands there for a long time. Has he been spying on Jon or did he come walk over after the door’s closed because he already knows what’s going on? Besides, I feel like he looks more concerned than jealous, like something’s eating him up about it. Someone suggested that maybe Tyrion urged Jon to go to Dani. I wouldn’t say Tyrion explicitly said ‘go bang her’ or anything like that but maybe he implicitly suggested it because Tyrion has been rightfully concerned this season about Dani and the line of succession. If she can produce an heir, it would solidify her claim to the Iron Throne. Without one and being actually barren would make her less of a viable choice. Of course, this feels very tinfoil. It’s just bizarre for Tyrion to stand there looking so ominous. In fact, this entire scene was bizarre. 

I mean let’s really look at it. Not only is the boatbang scene being shot after a scene of Rhaegar and Lyanna marrying and supposedly being in love, but in between is also a shot of Lyanna dying while whispering Jon’s true name, ‘Aegon Targaryen’, and Bran’s voiceover saying he’s the trueborn heir to the Iron Throne. If that isn’t foreboding, I don’t know what is. You can hardly show an epic romance between two characters when you’re also cutting away to the romance of one character’s parents, which also confirms that said two characters are aunt and nephew. Nor can you have an epic romance scene when it’s being voiced over by one character’s brother-turned-cousin. That’s weird, especially when you go back to 7x02 when Missandei and Grey Worm had their long-awaited sex scene. The focus was entirely on them for several minutes as they undressed and took each other in. That entire scene was 4+ minutes dedicated to them, whereas Jon and Dani had about 15 or so seconds altogether and this is the supposed ‘epic romance’ of the entire story. This is the anticipated sexual tryst between two main characters, whereas Missandei and Grey Worm are secondary characters at best. It’s underwhelming. There wasn’t even a buildup to the sex or a closeup shot of their first kiss. It was just ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’. And then you factor in the scene before Jon knocks on the door. He stands there for some time like he’s steeling himself to do it. He doesn’t look nervous, not in the way one would be before going to bang someone he apparently loves. It’s just odd and frankly, rather ominous.

Anyway, let’s head to Winterfell for literally the best part of the entire episode. I honestly don’t have much to say about it. I just really loved the fact that Sansa and Arya were playing Littlefinger. I still hated that they had to butcher Arya like that to get this across, but the bond between the sisters seem stronger than ever and their final scene together was beautiful. 

But honestly, how loud did everyone scream at this part:

“You stand accused of murder. You stand accused of treason. How do you answer these charges, Lord Baelish?”

“My sister asked you a question.” 

It was poetic to have Petyr die at the hands of his own dagger and in a similar way to how Cat, his supposed beloved, died too. It’s perfect. Goodbye Creepyfinger, we won’t miss you! 

But before we say goodbye completely, Creepyfinger did give us a little Jonsa nugget if you were paying attention. When Sansa receives the letter from Jon that he bent the knee to Dani, LF says this: 

“I heard gossip that the Dragon Queen is quite beautiful.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Jon is young and unmarried. [Dani] is young and unmarried.”

“You think he wants to marry her?” 

“I think an alliance makes sense. Together, they’d be difficult to defeat.”

I know he’s trying to manipulate Sansa into betraying her family and taking the North for herself, so he could marry her and gain power, but commenting on Dani’s beauty seems a strange thing to add. He could just say Jon is young and unmarried and so is she, an alliance would good. But he starts with commenting on her beauty. He already goaded Jon earlier this season, figuring out his feelings for Sansa, and now he’s goading Sansa, who seems shocked and confused by it, only to deflect and bring the topic back to Arya. Perhaps it’s shipping goggles, but it’s an interesting add-on to the conversation. 

Back to King’s Landing though, Jaime and Cersei just had their massive, inevitable fallout and last we see is Jaime riding off on his own. Now, where would our conflicted little lion be heading? The North to Winterfell, right? And I wonder where a certain blonde-haired angel is going? Same place. Oh my, look how that worked for Braime <3 Sorry lol. I’m just very happy for the possibility of Braime and also very interested to see Jaime interacting with Sansa, which I hope he does. If/when Sansa becomes Queen of the North, I need Jaime to swear his fealty to her over Pyroqueen. Please. 

Final thoughts: 

The Night King is still the badass he is with this badass new child, Viserion, who is finally getting the recognition he deserves. All hail the Night King!

But only if Tormund doesn’t die. I swear to Lucifer if Tormund dies, I’ll kill the Night King myself. 

Also, Sam is at Winterfell!!! Please give me a Sam x Sansa friendship!!!! And his scene with Bran was hilarious. I don’t know why, but I just found it really funny. 

What did you guys think? 

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | outtake two

The small apartment in New Jersey was cozy enough for one—warm décor seemed to fill the home and it even came with a standalone fireplace that made it feel like home. But there was nothing warm about the person who lived there. Tonight would be one of the coldest nights she’d feel in a while. She sat on the phone with her friend in silence, staring at the television as it played the various holiday features that they did around this time of year.

“Mel? You gotta talk to me babe,” She heard Nicole’s voice, and she ran a hand over her head as she stretched across the couch. “What’s on your mind?” She asked.

“You know Jermaine hasn’t used his snapchat like...in ever. Like, it’s crazy,” Melissa’s voice came out dry and chaste, but her face seemed so pained. “And then I get sent some video he put up,” She said.

“J was on his Snap?” Nicole asked, and she was silent for a bit—Mel could only assume that Nicole was looking for whatever Mel was speaking of. “Oh...oh, shit,” Nic mumbled.

“Did you know she was pregnant?” Melissa asked, and Nicole cleared her throat briefly. “You knew. I’m sure Ib told you or something,” She sighed.

“Beija told me herself—I took her to the doctor because she wasn’t feeling well,” Nicole said, and Mel sank farther into the couch. “What did you expect, though? They’re together, Mel. I told you that,” She said.

“I know. But they haven’t been together that long and all of a sudden they’re living in a new place together and she’s fucking knocked up. I feel...I feel cheated, Nicole. That was supposed to be me,” She said.

“Well...it’s not,” Nic said softly. “I love you, Mel. You know this—but honestly, you can’t harbor all this animosity like you’re doing. Beija didn’t steal your man, Jermaine left you. He walked out on his own, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it,” She explained.

“But I don’t get it, Nic. I don’t. I just...let me stop complaining. It is what it is,” She sighed. “Look, I’ll call you later, okay? Sorry for whining,” She said.

“Girl, please. You know I’m here for you, but you know I gotta keep it real with you too. I wanna see you out here thriving, not sulking and shit,” Nicole replied. “But get some rest, and I’ll call you tomorrow. Matter of fact, I’m off so I should come down there and we can hang out,” She suggested.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then,” Mel hung up her phone and sat it on the table before she reached for the glass of wine she had poured some time ago. She sipped slowly before the small sips became a fluid sqig, and she was seeing the bottom of her glass. She sat the glass down and she grabbed the neck of the bottle before she began to down it quickly.

Over the course of an hour, one bottle turned into three.

She sat on the couch with her head in her hands as she thought to herself about the first time she had met Jermaine. He was just a kid at the time—a young man who was looking to get into music and was convinced he’d be one of the greatest to ever do it. She wasn’t entirely sure if he’d make it or not but he was cute to her. With his charm, wit and charisma it was easy for her to fall for him and she became the passenger and right hand woman in his life. Even when he went off to college she stayed true and was in belief that he’d do something well with his life.

When he first got signed to Jay-Z’s label, she was elated to know that her boyfriend was actually following his dreams. She was doing the same as a teacher, and when they moved to New York together she stood by him through the many years he struggled to get himself together. But when ‘Sideline Story’ came along it seemed to propel him into a sense of notoriety that she knew he had always wanted. But then again, maybe that’s when it all changed for them.

Touring was the worst part about dating a performer—she wouldn’t see Jermaine for months at a time and she could only hope she’d never get texts or calls from women trying to ‘come clean’ about their sins. Every hope was crushed brutally, and she had gathered an immense amount of Jermaine’s mutilated skeletons hanging within her emotional closet. The bones were twisted and the flesh was rotten, and it brought nothing but pain upon her heart. But she believed that they were merely bodies without souls; conquests that meant nothing to the man she loved. He loved her, and his heart was at home with her no matter where his ego or his dick seemed to lead him.

It got worse before it got better, but eventually he did come around to tie the knot with her. He stopped partying so much and kept away from the women; it was a sign of hope for Melissa. Her standing by and staying true had finally paid off, and she had won what she had so rightfully earned. Now it was time to build the life that she had always wanted with him. She wanted a family and a normal life—or at least as normal as it could be given the circumstances. Mel felt that she deserved it for being so faithful. She almost got what she wanted but then...Beija.

That bitch. That brilliant, amazing bitch.

Melissa had heard a multitude of stories about Beija Demarco—typical young girl from the dirty south with big hair and big dreams, coming out to New York because she wanted to be an A&R. She got into Dreamville because Ib owed someone a favor, and Mel found that laughable for many reasons. But once she found out the girl was not only a college student but going for her masters, she had gained a little more respect for her. Most of her animosity stemmed from jealousy. Beija looked like the plethora of women Jermaine came across, and aesthetically she was his type. That was a fearsome fact from the jump, but it only got worse when Jermaine would bring up stories about he and Beija’s conversations. He seemed to be so happy to have found a friend. Though Melissa could have just chalked it off to him being as friendly as he was, she knew better. She knew a crush when she saw one.

She could do nothing but be subtly happy about the small stint of separation between Jermaine and Beija, and even after she found out they were talking again she tried to rationalize what was going on between them. They were alike in a lot of ways and when a person spent time with a person every day, an attachment could form. Absence after the tour would only bring Jermaine back to his reality and back to what he had at home. But that was when he dropped the most hurtful of bombs into Melissa’s life.

He was in love with Beija. He didn’t want Mel anymore, and it hurt her from the inside out.

She spent months after their separation thinking, trying to piece together the moment she stopped being the apple of Jermaine’s eye and when Beija became someone he loved enough to leave his wife for. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the reasoning. None of it made sense. She felt this sense of inadequacy, and it fueled her resentment. But she had to keep herself calm. She was a grown woman—she wouldn’t let this little girl turn her into an embittered spitfire. Ironically, it wasn’t Beija she became bitter towards, but Jermaine himself.

Melissa grabbed her phone and dialed the familiar number—even with his number long deleted, she knew it like the back of her hand. Her hands shook softly before she heard some soft breathing. “Hello?” His voice was clouded with sleep, and she frowned softly at how his gravely tone still made her tremble between her thighs. It only fueled her more.

“I hate you,” Mel’s tears spilled out of her eyes as she began. “How fucking...could you, Jermaine?”

“What—Melissa?” He whispered, and she heard some shuffling before the click of a door, and his voice grew a bit more defined. “Do you realize it’s damn near four in the morning?” He asked.

“I don’t give a fuck what time it is,” She cried out. “How could you do this to me? You go as far as flaunting her on fucking social media, J?! Are you serious—you speak so much about being private and yet here you are showing her and that fucking belly off,” She snapped.

“Yo...Mel, are you drunk? Look, we can talk when you’re sober, I’m not about to do this with you,” J mumbled.

“We’re gonna fucking deal with it now! You don’t get to tell me what you’re not gonna deal with—I spent years doing shit your way. It’s my way today,” She said.

J sighed over the line before sucking his teeth. “Alright, what? Talk so I can go the fuck to bed,” He sounded irritated and within Melissa’s inebriation, it served to add more anger to her mood. How dare he seem annoyed as if he wasn’t out here making a fool of her?

“You got a lot of nerve to try to sound peeved when I have to sit here and watch you do everything with her that you promised to me,” Mel argued. “One minute you’re telling me you’re not ready for kids but now it’s ‘oh, let’s show off the baby bump,’ ‘oh, let me get her a house;’ you’re full of shit, Jermaine! All I ever asked of you was to love me. I just wanted the love I gave you for so many fucking years of my life!” She yelled. “Do you know how many niggas I curved for you, or how many people told me you’d never make it in the rap game? I ignored it all because I believed in you, and all I wanted was for you to be with me and be present. And you just couldn’t care enough to do that!”

“Mel, what the fuck do you want me to do—take the baby out? Shit changes, okay? I’m sorry I fucked you over. I will never feel good about the way I did you,” Jermaine’s calm was diminishing and Mel could tell by the sound of his voice. “But I’m not about to sit here and listen to you try to rub in what you did for me. I am aware of what you sacrificed and not only am I grateful but I feel bad about not paying it forward. But I don’t know what you want me to do about this. I love Beija and she’s having my child. You yelling at me ain’t changing shit,” He said.

“You’re so fake,” She laughed. “You’re not sorry. You’re not sorry about anything you’ve done to me—you do what Jermaine wants to do and anyone who doesn’t like it just gets hurt. You lie and you make up lines to shut me up, and I fell for it every time. You fucked other women and said you loved me; a lie. How could you love me and disrespect me? You didn’t even respect those women either. You didn’t even care. What are you gonna do when you meet another woman who just so happens to ‘understand’ you, huh? You gonna leave that bitch with your baby?”

“First of all, you’re gonna watch your fucking mouth. You’re letting that liquor get you real bold and you need to calm the fuck down,” Jermaine’s tone changed to a sharpened aggression, the anger in his position now clear as crystal. “I never let nobody disrespect you when we were together—even when I did my dirt, I never let anybody talk about you the way you speaking on my girlfriend right now. I have tried so hard to be mature about this but Mel you getting on my last fucking nerves with this. You got a right to be angry but you leave B out of this shit,” He warned.

“Or what? What are you gonna do? I said what I said—fuck you and fuck her. Y’all were fucking made for one another. You had her in our home, knowing you liked her, but you want me to calm down? You’ve got the whole game fucked up,” She laughed bitterly.

“Man, grow the fuck up. I’m not apologizing for shit no more. Stay off my shit if you don’t wanna see me ‘show Beija off,’ Mel. It’s so easy. But since you’re acting too fucking childish and stupid to do so, I’ll do it for you—consider all your shit blocked. Have a nice life,” The line clicked, and she huffed loudly before she threw the phone across the room, hearing it slam against the wall.

She placed her head in her hands and began to cry, sobbing quietly as her body seemed to curl up slowly. She laid back against the couch and laid in fetal, crying intensely as she closed her eyes to block out her thoughts. She had gotten every piece of negative energy off of her chest, but she still felt shitty. She knew now that her marriage was a lie, and probably her whole relationship along with it. Jermaine had stolen so much of her life, and she’d never be able to reclaim it.

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 9x08: “Rock and a Hard Place”

THEN: Dragons. Dean’s looking out for Zeke. Sheriff Jody Mills. Crowley went nearly human.

Hartford, South Dakota.

Aww, she’s sweet!

She had a damn taser ready to go!

Holy shit!

Dumped in a sewer.

Asleep on the table.

Four days with no sleep? Yikes. How does Kevin even function?

“I feel like my battery can't recharge.” Red flag words for Dean.

Dean still refers to her as “Sheriff Mills”. Sam calls her “Jody”.

There’s their case. “I've got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night.”

Back at Hartford, South Dakota.

Aww, Jody hugs!

A pastor, an engaged couple, and our waitress from the cold open: the victims so far. Also all part of the same church.

“Jody, are you sure you're, uh, to jump back in the fray?”

“This wackadoo stuff keeps coming. More I know, better armed I'll be.”

Like y’all can stop her.

“Okay, so, we have, uh, missing church folk and super strength. Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing.”

I need Jody to meet Cas. Pretty please.

Honor. That’s a nice name.

Bonnie.

A.P.U = Abstinence Purifies Us.

Dean’s already rolling his eyes.

"’Purity pledge’?”

“It's a commitment to your virginity.”

“I don't think we can really un-ring that bell. You know what I mean?”

Shush, Dean.

“So, you just hit the ‘virginity do-over’ button, and all is good with the man upstairs?” Dean. Please.

Sam has a nice signature. I think I’ve said that before.

“Congratulations, Sam and Dean Winchester. You are both virgins.”

Pffft.

Honor’s going through some Hell.

Suzy.

Dean already started to recognize her.

“Sex is a Racket, and God’s Ball is in Your Court” lmao. I wanted to hear that.

The peen of death!

“Stay strong. Stay pure.”

Dean...why.

“You know, when you get down to it, what's the big deal, right? I mean, sure, there's the touching and the feeling all of each other, my hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body, the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling... Grinding. Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just...”

“Yeah. Uh...But the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. So, uh, I got my V card back. The end.”

*chanting* kill me, kill me, kill me

“Hey, she look familiar to you?”

“Suzy?”

“Yeah. Swear I know her from somewhere.”

“Oh, good, Dean. 'Cause that line never fails.”

lmao

Tammy the poet.

“Honor just brings Oreos!” Who doesn’t love Oreos?

“Guess who's taking the teacher home. Research.” lol

“Hey. Sorry. So, where were we?”

“Honor is going to hell.”

lmao

So all these victims are people who broke their abstinence promise.

Damn it, Dean.

You are not going to seduce a crying woman, Dean.

“Wait a second. Did you...get --”

“Born again?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Sam. I don't make promises I can't keep.”

lol

“It's just...I enjoy church. I mean, after...after Bobby, Crowley...”

Aww Jodes.

JUST ANSWER HIM, DEAN.

DAMN IT.

Let’s just get this over with, for the love of g  o  d.

“Or should I say... ‘Hola’?”

“No! I-I am -- I'm not that girl anymore. I moved here. I changed my name. That girl was -- was horrible.”

“Listen, uh, Suzy, I've seen a lot of awful things, stuff of nightmares, okay? But you -- you're the good dreams.”

That’s actually cute, damn.

“You're not like... the other guys in town, are you? You're kind of a... a bad boy.”

GET ON WITH IT SO Y’ALL CAN GET KIDNAPPED.

Honor found the other victims.

RIP Pastor Fred. Killed by the monster.

“This thing is taking people that break their vows, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Dean and Suzy -- been over an hour.”

There you go, Sam.

And there you go.

u g h NOOOOOO YOUR FINGERNAILS

OH GOD.

Dean and Suzy, unceremoniously dumped.

“Where are we?”

“Hell.”

Nah, this ain’t Hell.

"Vesta, Roman Goddess of the Hearth."

“Yeah, the girls had to be pure because fire is the symbol of purity.”

“Huh. Okay, as long as Vesta's fire was kept lit, Rome received a good harvest.”

“The virgins had to stay celibate for 30 years. If they broke their vows, they were buried alive.”

“Dean. Maybe God wants us down here -- because of what we did.” That’s actually more or less correct. Except it’s a Roman goddess.

What’s Neil’s problem??

Sam and Jody work well together.

“Okay, look, whatever that fireball thing was, it's taking the weakest, and I am not gonna be next. So, the way I see it, her leg's busted anyway. We serve her up. It could buy us some time.”

EXCUSE YOU, NEIL.

“Wait, anything on a weapon?” 

“Oak stained in virgin blood. Where are we gonna get a virgin?”

“I’m a virgin!”

“I think we need the real McCoy here, Sam.”

lol

Come on, Tammy.

“I don't have time for devil worshipers! I'm calling the cops.”

“I am the cops.”

LMAO JODY.

“Told you. It's back for one of us. What are you gonna do now? Right, you should have listened to me --” SHUT UP NEIL.

Down goes Sam.

Bonnie! aka Vesta.

Jody’s distracting like a hunter.

OWW JODY.

PULLING OUT THE STAKE LIKE A BOSS.

“What's wrong with you?”

“What?”

“Your liver. It's -- it's no good. Dear boy, you're all duct tape and safety pins inside. How are you alive?”

SHIT.

RIP Vesta. Killed by Jody.

Dean pulling a Garth. “What did I miss?”

Bye Jody. See you later.

“What's up?”

“What if there is something wrong with me -- something...really wrong?”

Dean’s got some ‘splaining to do.

“Why does it have to be something else? It's always something else. We're always scraping to find some other explanation when maybe it is... just me.” This time it is something else.

“I'm a mess, Dean. You know it. And sometimes, I feel like maybe I'm never gonna actually be all right.”

“You will. All right, 'cause whatever it is, we'll figure it out.”

“Or this is... just the way I am.”

“I can't. I can't let you put this on yourself. Listen to me. It's not you, Sam.”

That was Dean’s breaking point.

Zeke interferes. “I wouldn't do that, Dean.”

“What? What -- what's not me?”

“Nothing. I just -- I-I meant that...if there is something wrong...it's not your fault. We'll deal with it. But you got to have a little faith, Sammy.”

And that’s how you know it’s all going to shit soon.

[thatsoundssobeautiful]

Forgotten history, forgotten legacy,

Facts of the past sure can influence our future

‘Fore they can face the truth, my people fades to black

Back against the wall, living in a world in war.

Ignorance the number one cause of death

Knowledge and faith the only wealth worth collecting

Culture saved from the shade, Black slaves finally free.

  This new video  not only introduces the first single from the Black Panther album, by Kendrick Lamar, SZA and The Weeknd, but showcases one the most beautiful visual artistry since Alright and LOVE from Kendrick.

This is most definitely a perfect way to picture Black History in this month of February.

  The clip contains a lot of symbols and follows a certain logic to express an impactful message.

Let’s get to the analysis.

  Ancient Egyptian Mythology

Black people raising their hands left with nothing but Faith,

The raising hands of a helpless and dying Black people.

Kendrick Lamar is arriving as Charon, the ferryman of the god of death Hades, who carries souls across the Styx, river to the hell.

This very first scene pictures what Kendrick calls the hell on earth when he came in South Africa by the time he was preparing To Pimp A Butterfly. 

“I don’t see Compton I see something much worse, the land of the landmines, the hell that’s on earth”. Complexion

“We all came on a boat looking for hope, all you can say is that you’re looking for dope

These days ain’t no compromise, your pain ain’t mines half the time […]  – Cape Town.” untitled 08

This image also exists in the Ancient Egyptian religion, with The Celestial Ferryman would navigate the soul through the winding waters of the Underworld.

Save the children

“This is for the kids” – Kendrick Lamar.

“Barefoot babies with no cares” Complexion

The visual continues with this idea of death as the faceof sad woman is shown above a group of kids attending royal funerals.

Red in South Africa refers to mourning, violence and sacrifices. Therefore all the kids wearing a red hat implies they’re either dead or mourning the death of their beloved friends and family.

Kendrick stands among these children, with the will to go and save them, empathetic, feeling their pain, wearing orange, which is also associated with mourning death in Egypt.

  Afrofuturism

“You can bring a bullet, bring a sword Bring a morgue, but you can’t bring the truth to me” All The Stars

Afrofuturism is no news to African-American recording artists.

Last year, we listened to this Joey Bada$$ song that sampled  Sun Ra (from: Space Is the Place, 1974), and its concept of Afrofuturism. The goal is to critique the present-day dilemmas of black people, and to revise, interrogate, and re-examine the historical events of the past.

That way, African intellectual (musicians, writers,..) use the codes of science fiction, technology, magic, historical fiction, as well as hints of Afrocentrism and the Egypt civilization, symbol of prosperity and royalty in the history of Africa.

The idea of space is really important too. That’s why you can hear Joey Bada$$ rapping “[he’s] just a black spade spawned out the nebula.” – GOOD MORNING AMERIKKKA.

From the same idea you can appreciate SZA singing the hook:

“‘Cause maybe the night and my dreams might let me know All the stars are closer, all the stars are closer, all the stars are closer”.

Dancing in the stars is also a way to feel closer with ancestors, enjoying the present, looking forward to the future with the memory of the past.

  Sapology

Société des ambianceurs et des personnes élégantes (SAPE).  Sapology is the movement from Congo Kinshasa and Congo Brazzaville in opposition to the Western fashion trends.

The Sapology movement owns its proper clothing identity and has been challenging Paris trends for over 100 years.

This is an original message of self-expression and self-affirmation to the White world.

To continue with this idea of standing for your ground, Kendrick states the following :

“I recognize you far as confidence and calculated promises all in your conversation […] Corrupted man’s heart with a gift That’s how you find out who you dealin’ with A small percentage, whom I’m building with I want the credit if I’m losing or I’m winning” – All The Stars

He’s clearly adressing himself to the capitalist Western society, just like he did in untitled:

(What the white man say?) A piece of mine’s That’s what the white man wanted when I rhyme Telling me that he selling me just for $10.99 If I go platinum from rapping, I do the company fine What if I compromise? He said it don’t even matter You make a million or more, you living better than average You losing your core following, gaining it all He put a price on my talent, I hit the bank and withdraw Hit the bank and withdraw, hit the bank and withdraw Put myself in the rocket ship and I shot for the stars Look at what you accomplished and what he said to the boy I’ma make you some promises that you just can’t ignore” – Untitled 3

  NEGUS, Black Royalty, Black Panther – Long Live The King.

Walking in a forest of dead trees, King Kendrick is on his Soul searching.

Wearing Black Panther clothes is not just a hint to the movie he is promoting, but is a fact that he’s retracing his forgotten Black history.

When he sang I (Love Myself), this wasn’t only for the people suffering from suicide tendencies, but this was also for the Black community and diaspora, too divided or not enough united. Recognizing our history and identity, acknowleging yourpast can help you moving forward.

Let’s notice that he’s wearing here a yellow hat, which stands for richness, and being aware of your inheritance is worth gold.

What is more, in Ancien Egypt, yellow would also mean eternity and immortality. Then having Kendrick is a wood of dead trees implies the idea that he and his people (the panthers) won’t die, but multiply and are still stepping.

“I promised Dave I’d never use the phrase “fuck nigga” He said, “Think about what you saying: ‘Fuck niggas’ No better than Samuel on Django No better than a white man with slave boats” Sound like I needed some soul searching My Pops gave me some game in real person Retraced my steps on what they never taught me Did my homework fast before government caught me So I’ma dedicate this one verse to Oprah On how the infamous, sensitive N-word control us So many artists gave her an explanation to hold us Well, this is my explanation straight from Ethiopia N-E-G-U-S definition: royalty; King royalty – wait listen N-E-G-U-S description: Black emperor, King, ruler, now let me finish The history books overlook the word and hide it America tried to make it to a house divided” – I (Love Myself)

  Suggestive color coding

SZA gets back with a shining and triumphant red in the background, before turning into pink.

Pink refers to the Carribean, with vivid colors of the wax and the vibrant dances which all suggest something more cheerful.

  From the joy and celebration we go to more quiet emotions with blue visuals. This color sets up some kind of peace, wisdom, purity.

More thn this, throughout to thie blue color, the video shows warriors (maybe a reference to Ethiopian warriors).

Shades of gold follow up these blue pictures.

The part of SZA is an actual celebration for life, and embraces to the fullest the African culture within our skin, our dances, our fashion…

  Closer to the African Civilisation, History and Spiritualities

Color coding

Sapology

Black Panther Movment

Les mains d’un peuple qui ne meurt pas, mais se multiplie

Kendrick Lamar, SZA – All The Stars (Meaning), Highlight of The African Civilization Forgotten history, forgotten legacy, Facts of the past sure can influence our future 'Fore they can face the truth, my people fades to black…