#another note: he also implies that he needs souls so that they can DIE on the sculk to spread it.

[savviathan]

cub saying that he needs more “souls” (via the soul lanterns and torches) for the fog. Right so. Did. Did the fog take his soul or

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

Memories

Author's Note: Hey guys! This is a submission for the JujutsuJournal collab started by the super talented @ayyy-pee .

Hope you guys enjoy!

Synopsis: Reader reflects on her divorce after working with her ex husband on a film. But can memories distort reality?

Warnings: Divorce, references to marital issues, implied s*x scene, angst

Suguru stared into your soul through the lens of the camera you had been watching. An uneasy feeling began to creep through you as he ran his fingers through Manami’s hair, kissed her collarbone, whispered things in her ear as she laid beside him. For a moment it was like everyone in the room had vanished, leaving you and your ex husband to navigate this intimacy you hadn’t shared in years. Seeing him with his costar forced you to remember when that was you beside him, a place you thought you’d always be. 

“AND CUT! THAT’S A WRAP!”

Just in an instant the crew had reappeared and you found yourself taking a deep breath. 

Yu Haibara, your assistant director, led the cast and crew in a celebratory round of applause. 

He waited for the noise to die down before speaking again. 

“I want to thank the wonderful cast and crew. You all did a phenomenal job getting this film made. But I think we can all say our jobs were made infinitely easier with two amazing leads, and an equally amazing director.”

Another round of applause sounded through the studio. You should have been thrilled, but you found yourself fighting back the urge to cry. You looked up to find Suguru staring back at you as the smile you had plastered onto your face deepened. 

~

“Suguru,” you giggled.

You had your bulky laptop perched in front of you on the bed as your unfinished spec script stared mockingly at you while your husband caressed your waist from behind you, his hand slowly traveling under your shirt and up your torso.

“Can’t you take a break?” he murmured into your neck.

“I wish,” you sighed. But my boss said I have until Monday to get him a finished draft.”

He laid back in defeat onto his side of the bed. “This thing’s been making you crazy for the last two weeks. Have you eaten today?”

“Well my future hangs in the balance. And yes I had a handful of goldfish and a protein shake.”

He chuckled. “Well my day was fine. You know the director says he might have a role for me in his next project. Something bigger.”

You peeled your eyes away from the screen and gave him a sweet smile. “I’m proud of you.”

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek before pulling himself out of the bed. “I’m proud of you too. But I also need to feed you. Any special requests for dinner?”

“Surprise me.”

~

Later that night you sat at the hotel bar while the cast and crew partied in the ballroom. You repeatedly checked your watch, giving yourself an hour window before you came down with something and excused yourself for the rest of the night. 

“Hiding from the chaos in there?” a familiar voice asked.

You tapped your finger on the rim of your champagne glass. “Well if I am, I must not be doing a very good job.”

Suguru stood beside you with his hands in his suit pockets. “I can leave.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “Only a few more minutes until I develop a migraine or food poisoning.”

He sat beside you and ordered a scotch on the rocks.

“When do you start editing?” Suguru inquired.

“Are you trying to make small talk so you don’t have to go back inside?” you asked.

Suguru smirked at you. “Well think of it this way, the longer we talk the less time we have to spend in that very loud room with those very drunk people.”

You sighed in defeat. 

“Well excuse me but it’s hard to make small talk when you’ve been revisiting your failed marriage from all angles for the millionth time since we began production.”

Suguru tightened his grip on his scotch.

“I thought we agreed that this wouldn’t be a problem before I signed on.”

“Well that was then and this is now.”

“What’s different now?”

Suguru gestured towards the ballroom. “Manami? You knew we dated after the divorce.”

You scoffed. “This isn’t about Manami. I like Manami. I casted her.”

“This movie wouldn’t have been produced without me. You should be thanking me.”

You said nothing for a moment and Suguru worried that he had gone too far. Much to his surprise you laughed. 

“Can you believe it? I thought I’d finally reached a point in my career where I finally had a voice in this industry.”

You turned to face your ex. “I know the only reason the producers greenlit this was because they knew you were a big selling point. But why did you agree?”

“I liked the script.”

You scoffed as you handed the bartender back your unfinished champagne.

“The script is shit.”

“And I wanted to see if we could work together again. Maybe regain a little of what we lost.”

You pursed your lips. “Why are you so damn charming? It makes it harder to hate you.”

Handsome son of a bitch with his perfect face and considerate nature that used to make you weak at the knees. 

You looked into his brown eyes for a second longer than you should have. You found yourself leaning closer towards him.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured. 

The uneasy feeling you had felt this afternoon had returned, and as much as you wanted to indulge in Suguru’s candor you pulled away from him. 

“I think we should stop this before we do something we regret.”

“(Name)-” 

“Please tell everyone I said goodnight.”

You hastily threw some bills on the counter to pay for the drinks and left without another word.

~

Suguru was practicing lines when you came barreling through the door in a flurry of excitement. 

“Suguru! He bought it! My boss bought the script!”

Your husband shot up from his place on the couch, racing towards you and taking you into his arms. A hysterical laugh escaped your lips as he picked you up and spun you around. 

“I knew you could do it (Name)!”

Once the two of you managed to calm down you proposed a celebration.

“Let’s go out to dinner. My treat.”

Suguru’s face dropped a little.

“Actually, I have to go in for reshoots.”

“Oh,” you murmured. 

Instead of allowing the disappointment to show on your face you quickly shrugged it off.

“Another time.”

He stared at you for a moment before nodding. “Another time.”

~

You opened your eyes as the plane touched down on the tarmac. Memories flooding your mind and painting softly lit moments in your sleep. You had loved Suguru, but your separation was inevitable. As your careers began to flourish you found yourself growing in opposite directions. 

Rainchecks voided into unfulfilled dinner dates, sleeping in separate rooms, fights, making up, therapy, excusing yourself from work to go cry in the bathroom. It was easy to look back at the past through the nostalgic film lens when you couldn’t see anything but two unblemished people in a single moment of bliss. 

The two of you had made your choices and you wouldn’t allow anything to jeopardize the lives you had established since then, even if a part of you would always love him.

~

The End. 

[eriksyoudumby]

i was gonna talk about adm as a whole but my brain went KEROSENE BRRRRRRRRRRRRR so here we are

*assumptions about stuff: Misha is not human, Andrei died somehow, Misha can/has been reviving him

Kerosene is REALLY interesting, breaking it down from the start:

SO. We can tell right away the one asking “if i’m ready” is Andrei, expecting to die/be revived again after coming to expect it. “Duet in Death” seems to be how Misha sees the situation, that being two of them coming together from the cycles they experience endlessly (this is very important when seen in contrast with Red Hour). “And with a touch of life” the revival itself, “I’m filled with envy”... this part i’m not too sure about but considering Misha actively wants to die (see engima lyrics for urself) it could be that again. The last part “It feels to me, this time it’s not as easy” is MIND BLOWING bc it implies that the revivals are taking a toll on his health or just becoming harder to do over and over again.

The chorus leans into this,

With “I’m done with saving” referring to the revival, and yet Andrei keeps getting into trouble and needing to be revived again (the asking for more, the “more” is MORE LIVES)... as for the rest, and how it parallels with Red Hour, I’m not sure but it again confirmed that a deal to save Andrei took place and its something Andrei intends to exploit (at least based on Red Hour, I assume that is his intention). 

Although we see some contradictions here, as the last line, “a brand new life is all I need for more” implies that Misha is also doing the revivals for his own gain. What is this? Something that only Andrei can give him, and it’s safe to say Misha isn’t entirely sure what that thing is other than it’s intense like blood, it's addictive, dangerous, and sweet. (it’s love, man doesn't know he’s simping)

Then the line “I don’t need saving” makes me think back to Enigma where Misha sang “I’m not afraid of the way that i’m burning up”, something he did to take the place of Andrei who was originally the one who was burning. “A pity dawn won’t rise over your broken corpse” gives a dramatic setting for Andrei's death, but I think something else happened here. Mainly, I believe that after a certain amount of repeated time, Misha decided to swap his soul and Andrei’s, taking his place in death. This is probably crazy and idk if i’m even fully believing it, but I do think Misha dies at the end of Kerosene to get back at Andrei for being the source of an unrequited love.

Rather than go on fighting against Andrei about why he can’t just be revived a billion times, he instead fucking DIES thinking that if Andrei can’t appreciate him alive, that at least the survivors guilt Andrei gets from watching someone else die in his body will stay in his heart forever. 

(also a little note about what happened in Red Hour, “Fall for me my catastrophe” feels very ironic considering MISHA ALREADY HAS)

And another thing I wanna mention about falling is that it first appears in enigma:

Here it’s described as painful and related to the flames engulfing the corpse. Which makes me think that saying “fall for me” could have a second meaning of TAKE THE FALL FOR ME instead of the romantic falling in love idea. (spoilers for whenever i make my next huge theory post: i dont think Andrei had the take away from Misha's death that was intended)

[who1ssheesh]

Impossible

reborn doesn’t die. ive said this. 

squalo being so disgustingly cute for his s/o here. 

Warnings: lots of swearing; fem!reader; huge OOC; lowkey character is implied: reader is an educated and smart and probably artsy? (happened accidentally): 100% wrong grammar, english is not my native; no beta we die like tyl tsuna

Note: im not sure this is such and OOC since the whole premise is “squalo is uniquely soft only for you, and no one knows about that side of his”. first time at writing, dying from shame rn, will probably delete this soon. 

Impossible.

Squalo is impossible.

Such a foul-mothed, rude, loud and ill-mannered brute.

At first it seems as if he is trying his best to make you hate him. Squalo’s words usually cut deeper than his sword thrusts in inside of one’s body, but with you it feels like after that this sword also whirls in your already shaking body to hurt even more. Squalo notices your every small failure and is glad to stick your nose in those every time. He turns his head away on the days you look especially good and scoffs when you prove your intelligence.

But a fun fact you notice way too late: if Squalo hated you that much, then why the fuck has he always been around you?

Truth is simple: captain is good at everything but feeling feelings.

That is not the most important fact but the one that he is aware of it. Superbia is actually extremely self-aware.

And he knows he is hard and not going to change. Ever. You cannot run away from mafia, this is a pact made for life – and it doesn’t last long for many. He is indeed a violent brute and obviously fucked in the head at least a little bit – a bloodthirsty shark, excuse me for such an obvious comparison – and takes a huge pride in this. Because this is the reason Varia thrived when Xanxus wasn’t around, biggest people in mafia world fear him and, most importantly, he became best of the best. He is a fucking Emperor.

And not the least, Squalo hates lying. Maybe that is the reason he hated those cover-ups missions and Levi-a-Than with his brown nose. Squalo is who he is and he shows this right away in the worst way.

What I’m trying to say: if you cannot handle him at his worst, you do not deserve him at his best. And yeah, such a high-ranking person needs to be deserved.

And he hates that “some civilian bitch who grew up like a home plant”, while he made himself through blood and tears literally,   got him wrapped up so easily. Caught him like a fish, huh?

Squalo has never had a normal life and doesn’t understand that you do not have fight every rock like a caveman.

But just show him your teeth. Squalo is a big scary man always smelling like metal, with steel eyes widely opened looking for a pray. And you dare to go against him? God damn, you poor soul. And if you make fun of him smooth and smartass-ish enough that Squalo even has to think to realize you insulted him, GOD DAMN. You are unhinged.

He likes it.

No, he does not.

He loves it.

When you show that not only you can handle him at his worst, but even be equally fierce, Squalo does not turn away. He is asking for a date right away when this happens: you say ‘yes’ now or he is leaving and never coming back.

No, he does not give much of a choice. If captain wants, captain takes. And fights if he needed.

Fun facts: fancy dates with Squalo are the worst. Yes, he knows how to look sophisticated and elegant, but it is one thing to attend black-tie events with killers around and another to go to a ‘regular’ restaurant. Everyone will think he is a pig of a man, trust me. He can impress mafia with his character, but cannot be polite at least a little bit with a waitress to save his life.

And Squalo generally hates ‘fancy’ even as a word. So he will personally organize the best date for you but will be screwing your brain for the whole duration. But appreciate that he tried, you know.

Will tell you right away that he is involved into something shady.  Will explain all the ‘cool important sword varia guy’ thing later on because showing all of his cards right away is vitally dangerous for you. Especially it could be if you rejected him. Oof.

NO Varia.

No.

No.

N. o.

Squalo obviously appreciates your opinion (in his dumb ways) and knows you are an adult doing whatever you want, but he is a stone wall in discussing mafia.

It’s a no. End of discussion. You do not know what mafia is. Squalo does. He does know that death is always the first thing to consider and sitting on a keg of gun powder when literally anyone can come in with a weapon is hell of a life.

He will not ever tell you but he does not want to taint you with this. Squalo is not foul-mothed, rude, loud and ill-mannered bloodthirsty douche because he has been born like that, he was made into this to adapt. And one of you has to live, you know. And Superbia will be ready to die for his partner. He also will never tell you this.

To be honest, thinks you would survive in mafia with your witty brain. Of course you will, you are his significant other.

Squalo will be away for a long time. Months.

Fun thing: you can’t call him at all. Maybe can send him messages, I think, but only he can call you. There is actually reasoning for this. Squalo is a fucking genius and is capable to cover your existence from Varia even if (when, hehe) you marry, and that is exactly what he is doing.

He does not want to ruin his badass image in eyes of subordinates with a sweet, witty, beautiful and so perfect you. Even if he wants to tell everyone bragging about their hot chicks that the best woman has already been taken. Squalo has her and it is too obvious that she has him too.

I have a dumb headcanon: for some reason people used to think Squalo is a tech clown  still using a flip phone BUT HEAR ME OUT?? He has a humor of a god and likes to mess with Varia so he uses a flip phone for work to piss everyone and secretly has a personal newest shiniest iPhone hidden somewhere. And there is your photo on a home screen. But not on a lock screen. He does not want you to find out.

Squalo slowly learning to be ‘regular’ at home with you is a comedy gold. If you find out that he calls your cat your shared child, is actually a fucking MAMA enjoying house cleaning and binging ikea to make your apartment ‘homy’, Superbia will react worse that someone trying to assassinate him.

He does love your cozy house indeed. Probably, to be honest, he is going to live in your apartment at first…because he did not have any before you. There used to be only Varia.

He likes that he leaves his small things there. They are so small to notice but strangers will notice that someone else is in this house. And this someone is Squalo. Go away.

Squalo does not care about meeting your parents because he does not care. Will not hide from this, but you will probably be kicked out from your family because he will be his usual disgusting self lol.

No jokes now: dating someone like him can be problematic for a family, especially considering his career, so if anything happens, Squalo gotcha. Because he has pride and dignity and is overall better then ‘those shitheads’.

Will buy you the best house in the world, you just say. But! He will has a training room and a garage of sorts to mess with his swords. I mean, there are a lot of mechanics going on with his prosthetic arm and a sword, he obviously knows how to repair them or sum?

Squalo will spoil you when he is back from ‘work trips’. You can forget even about cooking, your bae is here to help. He will repair ANYTHING and to it really good. Any document and papers problem is not a problem but you better do the talking because Squalo  will try to strangle someone in 30 seconds. Your man will enjoy domestic life even more in TYL! and later in life because he will get burnt out at work.  

100% you both will have a close civilian friend group. Rare moments where Squalo can be just a person and do bullshit ha-ha stuff like ‘being drunk and throwing a chair out of a window with the bois’. Those meetings are when you notice that Squalo has a good sense of humor and actually is chatty and your friends like him. Not something he can afford in mafia.

Hey, he is actually so touchy when drunk.

If Squalo does a shit tone of stuff for you and you do nothing in return, he will point this out.

He does not ask for much In fact. He is used being an independent loner to the point it was insulting in the beginning of your relationship.

Surprise him with a dinner, help him get ready to leave for months again, just hug him sometimes out of the blue, and he is whipped.

Squalo enjoys a good debate. An it’s funny in a way that he is educated life-wise but such a dummy in academic stuff and you can mess with it. Even if you are a medic, an engineer, he is going to study this just to kick your ass. Bitch. (Just wants to share your interest with you. And also kick your ass)

Actually, falls in love deeper when sees your passion and intelligence. The way you study all the time. Or you know several languages. Or you are such a professional in your field.

I honestly think Squalo would have some special click with someone artistic. He is so loud and hyperactive and being with someone phlegmatic and elegant with their non-standard lifestyle is something else. Squalo does not understand art. Almost. The way he can control the edge of the sharpest sword and be quieter than the silence is an art for him. People think he is a weirdo – c’mon he is using a sword in a gun era – and you both can share being weirdos in your own ways.

Imagine being an architect. (that’s not because im too i swear). Precise numbers connecting with your artistic burst? It just sounds so….Squalo Superbia.

Imagine you start taking interest in swordsmanship.

IMAGINE WANTING TO BECOME A WEAPON DESIGNER.

He will carry you in his arms. Only to train you lmao.

‘Babe, it is time for your sword practice again’ ‘Ok, honey’

Imagine you two being together for so long that you design him the best sword you are capable of. You fucking magnum opus – just like relationship with Superbia is.

You actually can draw him a shitty meme shark and a stickman and he will keep it. He will laugh his ass off really loud but does not matter. He obviously will not keep it with him. But you will notice that he hides those in his books or sum.

If you do something of shitty quality, Squalo will oh so much be proud if you keep getting better at this. But he will still say the work of a shitty quality. He is lethally dangerous for someone emotionally vulnerable, but we understood this at the beginning of this post.

I mean, really do not take that to heart. Squalo could say you have your hands growing from your ass now and say you are impressive in a day if you still keep doing whatcha doing.

Later in relationship, sometimes Squalo slips at small things that tell you he thinks about you a lot. He once said “when we marry” instead of “if we marry”. He says “a favourite boy name” instead of a “favourite name”.

He knows it should not happen. Even Squalo has his insecurities because his standards are so high. A spouse and a child not seeing a father for half a year and have a possibility to get killed any moment? No.

But you stay. Knowing his worst side, how unusual and hard being with him is, but you are here.

Impossible.

Squalo is impossible.

Such a foul-mothed, rude, loud and ill-mannered brute.

But yours.

[jujutsubrainrot]

Chapter 215: Fearsome Womb, Part 7

// SPOILER WARNING!!! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE CHAPTER YET.

/// Happy 5th anniversary to Jujutsu Kaisen! The 3rd JJK Character Popularity Poll is ongoing from March 3 to March 20, and everyone in Japan and/or with tickets are able to cast their votes here!

–

Opening words: “Sukuna and Itadori face off. The one approaching is…!”

Aaaaa, beautiful lead color page! 😍 This flying cursed spirit suddenly reminds me of the one that both Nanako and Mimiko travelled on back in Volume 0. Also Suguru's flying manta ray cursed spirit in HI arc, when he rescued Riko :')

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “Nonetheless, a job half-done [will] cause problems.”

Here, Sukuna said, 「やはり何事にも仕上げは必要だな」 (yahari nanigoto ni mo shiage wa hitsuyō da na), which means as translated above. Official translations was weird, so I think it might have been a copy-paste mistake.

》 Yuuji: “This guy... won't die even if you kill him.”

"Even if you kill him" is the accurate translation.

(Left panel)

》 Yuuji: “You... are really boring.”

This one's easy to miss but FYI, this phrase is most likely a callback to chapter 11 (see right panel)! Here, Yuuji uses the same words Sukuna had used on him when he was inside Sukuna's innate domain — 「オマエはつまらんな」 (omae wa... tsumaran na). In this instance, however, Yuuji added in, "really" — 「オマエは本当につまらんな」 (omae wa... hontōni tsumaran na).

(Right panel)

》 Sukuna: “You... are boring.”

Just a note that in this panel in chapter 11, Sukuna was belittling Yuuji and seeing him as inferior to Megumi Fushiguro.

Just wanted to explain that here, Maki (I'm assuming this is her dialogue) is basically meaning that it's weird seeing how good "Megumi" is at fistfights. It sorta implies that Megumi wasn't that good at hand-to-hand combat in her pov, but since right now he's possessed by Sukuna, "Megumi" is much better at it. In addition, the "Megumi's face" isn't a wrong translation but you can also say, "It's weird to see him good at fistfights with (using) Megumi's body."

》 Maki: “Even if he won't die, does that mean he can heal the wound [inflicted] from the "Split Soul Katana" using Reverse Cursed Technique..?”

Officials didn't include the "using RCT" part, which needed to be said.

》 Maki: “Yuuji... At any rate, our goal is to capture that thing even if it means killing (it), right?”

捕まえる (tsukamaeru) means to catch, arrest, grab, capture, or seize. Not stop. And FYI, Maki referred to Meguna/Sukumi as "that," or like Kenjaku once labelled Yuuji - "that thing".

Just wanna say that "Maximum Output" isn't a new type of CT by Uraume; 'cause I saw some people going crazy over it calling it a new Uraume CT. (I bet they're speedreaders lulz.) In this instance, Uraume basically exerts the highest (aka max.) output into their "Frost Calm" CT. Reminder that Gojo also used Maximum Output before, back in Shibuya... if anybody forgets.

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “Spectacular view! Spectacular view!”

Sukuna praised this view and said, 「絶景.. 絶景..」 (zekkei.. zekkei..), which is a flowery Japanese term that means an unsurpassably beautiful scenery. I just chose spectacular because it's another word for "extremely beautiful", so... yall can choose whatever you like I guess. It can be "cool," it can also be "awesome." [I just had a pop quiz on this kanji a week ago so it's still fresh in my memory LMAO.]

(Right panel)

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “It doesn't matter whatever you do with that brat, I'm already done with him.”

(Left panel)

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “But it was the right choice to focus your cursed energy on that woman.”

Sukuna said 「偏らせた」 (katayora seta) which means biased, leaned, prejudiced. I believe in this context, it just means that Uraume had focused their cursed energy on Maki.

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “Let's complete this body.”

Official translation is kinda alright. Meanwhile, what I've offered is just the literal translation and it sounds weird, lol, but it just means that the body is still incomplete - so they gotta do their stuff to achieve the desired, final form.

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “Get the "bath" ready.”

Yes, "bath" was in quotation marks. The raws were 「"浴"の用意をしろ」 (“yoku” no yōi o shiro). Now why am I imagining the "bath" to be with blood instead of water!

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “Just like always... [You're] meticulous.”

FYI, Sukuna used an idiom in this dialogue. He said 「相変わらず洋い所に手が届く」 (aikawarazu yō kayui tokoro ni te ga todoku), which literally translates to: "Just like always, your hand reaches the itchy areas/places."

The idiom here is 「洋い所に手が届く」 (kayui tokoro ni te ga todoku), and it means "to be extremely thorough" or "to focus on the little details." Simply put, this expression can be used for someone who is "meticulous"; one who is able to pay attention to every single detail, no matter how tiny.

Additionally, in the service industry, this phrase implies that one must have precise knowledge of the needs of the person that they want to serve. So the phrase can also be used when one wants to be "attentive to someone's every need/wish."

》 Meguna/Sukumi: “Look!! There was [someone/something]... From Harima!!”

The text in the JP raws was very vague; it was 「ほらいただろ!!! あの播磨の!」 (Hora itadaro! ! ! Ano Harima no!) which translates as above. Meanwhile, TCB translated this particular dialogue to "Told you!! He's like that guy from Harima!!"

In my opinion, I am leaning more to the official Viz translation because I looked up the "Harima statue" on Google and these particular statues (see below) bear a semblance with Yuuji's facial expression in the last page. And I think the statues actually make the most sense, especially with what Uraume said next about Yuuji's mouth, as compared to if they were talking about a Heian-era person whom only the two of them know. I don't think Gege would do us dirty like that for not getting the joke.

— “Never Mind Mind” (2013), by Midori Harima

Closing words: “Even if you're being mocked, never forget that rage.”

—

Comments: As always, I never claimed to be a professional translator. My JP understanding is still amateurish but I hope yall will allow me to share my own insights on certain dialogues just so we can learn and understand each other’s interpretations, and also to kindly correct me wherever I had been wrong. Thank you!

[tarobytez]

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant. 

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist. 

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is. 

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”. 

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me. 

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.  

Oh fucking boy. 

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully. 

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled. 

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability. 

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community. 

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged. 

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people. 

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted. 

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows. 

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

[elsewhereuniversity]

Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want

A university is a place where dreams are thrown away.

Such is the case far too often. It remains Real even between the railroad, highway and train tracks. Even there, people interrogate themselves: ‘This is your dream, but is it realistic? How much is the starting salary? Look at your classmates, elegantly breezing over what you clawed through, tooth and nail. Look at your competitors––’

So many choose to drown their dreams themselves… even though, at Elsewhere University, the dead do not rest quietly. The Wild Hunt is proof of that. Yes, that Wild Hunt, which rides across campus when the fog rolls in. We all know the versions in which they hunt for students unlucky (or unbelieving) enough to be outside when the hounds begin baying. Stay inside, stay quiet, and you’ll be all the better for it, if they ignore you.

What about the other versions, though? What about the versions in which it is best to open your windows and howl back? There are tales like that, too––

Sometimes, those brave enough to shout along with the Wild Hunt will be rewarded with a share of prey or gold. Those kind enough to repair a lost hunter’s sled soon discover this to be the right choice, for upon closer inspection, the hounds are not just hounds. Their bones are laden heavy with wrath.

And sometimes, villagers tell tales of a cloaked rider on a white horse. Horseshoes spark against the night breeze. He will ask you to play an impossible game of tug-of-war. If you are wise, you will tie the other end of the rope to a sturdy oak. The leader of the Hunt likes clever little things. He might even drop a reward in your boot.

Perhaps this is why you see students wearing boots for a while after they declare their majors. Even Magenta (who got her name from always wearing high-heeled loafers of that particular shade) and Ma-Boi-Blanche (who has 17 pairs of white sneakers) wore boots back then. Rumor has it, according to a friend of a roommate of a Forbidden Major, that this footwear will help you abandon your misery.

When the Wild Hunt rides as a group, they come to condemn. The RAs are not wrong in telling you to run for safety when the fog descends.

On the other hand, when the leader of the Hunt appears alone, he comes to test. In this more benign (but not safe, never safe) form, 4% meet a bedraggled man, 2% a king of old, 3% a specimen of demon (the Christian subspecies), 6% a harlequin, and 5% a sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent.

84% of those who have survived the encounter say that the leader of the Hunt wears a cloak and a wide hat that partially hides his eyes (one of which is duller than the other). He gallops in on a splendid white horse.

95% of those who survived the encounter were wearing boots (one of them was wearing spatterdashes over court shoes, but eh, close enough).

100% of the survivors say that you must be ready to be tested. Be kind, clever, daring. If you are all that––and wary, wise, lucky too––the leader of the Hunt will let you go and stuff something in your boot. A post-it, on which is written the major that they chose, yet hated with every fibre of their being.

Now, put the boot back on and walk. It may be a bit awkward to walk around, what with the paper writhing under your feet, but do so anyway. Every student who has tried it reports that when they got back to their dorms, the paper had vanished from beneath their soles. In its place, they had gained a floating sensation, grafted in their bones.

By the end of the year, Ma-Boi-Blanche and Professor Redd were chattering away like old friends. The Professor had to admit that his student wasn’t very good at dissections, but there was an unmistakable passion for anatomy in his eyes, and he would improve soon. (Very soon, especially with Professor Redd’s talent of acquiring practice bodies, his jaunty hat growing redder with every new specimen.)

On the other side of campus, the law majors learned to listen for the click-clack of high-heeled loafers. Woe betide the unlucky people who faced off against Magenta, who suddenly threw herself into mock trials with gusto. Her opponents gained a Pavlovian fear response to seeing any shade of pink.

This did not go ignored. The Involved went up to the two, in order to warn them.

“The Gentry do not offer things for free,” they said. “And intelligence isn’t cheap. What in Morganwode did you pay?”

To which the ones who met the Huntsman merely laughed, because they weren’t any smarter. The only difference was that now, they were interested in the subjects they found so odious before.

In the old tales, a satisfied rider of the Wild Hunt will reward a human with meat. The person will walk back home in the dark, one shoe on and one shoe off, the boot growing heavier with every step. Once home, they will see that the raw, bloody meat has transformed into gold.

There are a few who still receive this, not always in the payment of gold, but in blessings. (Childe House’s oldest RA is one of them, which explains why the once-every-305-days evacuation has a 100% success rate, even when half a dozen residents don’t understand what a “mandatory house meeting” or a “fire drill” is.)

  Which begs the question: why does the leader of the Hunt help so many?

Rewards are meant to be given to the exceptional few. Yet the unhappy are not part of these few. Given the number of students with newfound rapture in their eyes, one does not need to be exceptionally kind, clever, or daring to transfer their passions. Just wary, wise, and lucky are enough.

When asked, the leader of the Wild Hunt proclaimed that such a spell is child’s play. We’ve already provided the ingredients: two subjects and a passion. The price is low because all he needs to do is to sever the interest from one subject, then attach it to another. Simple work, he said. He would never think of charging so much for something he could do before breakfast. It is not befitting a warrior. Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he said, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands.

There are more people who understand than he might think, for the more competent members of the Forbidden Major have another theory. Anyone with passing knowledge of folklore would be able to recognize this person at a glance, they say (quietly, and never to the Huntsman’s face). He is the amalgamation of ghost, fae and old god.

The first rider of the Wild Hunt might be, depending on the amount of fertilizer on the campus lawn and the moon phase, the oldest warrior poet. There are less battlefields for him to watch over now, but still he is song and madness. Still, he is overcome with fury when he sees yet another soldier buckle before the fight has begun.

This child would have made a fine skald. That child could have become a brilliant shield-maiden. This one had the makings of a king, yet they chose to push these futures away, he said through clenched teeth. These children began to think there was nothing left. They started to look at the pond and that single eighth-floor window which could open all the way.

This is not a battlefield, but… to give up before the horn sounds, under his watch?

Unforgivable, he said, with an unblinking smile, all teeth and lone glittering eye. To despair is to slander my hundred names.

So the leader of the Hunt casts a few spells here, a little trickery there, and coaxes the bright frenzy back in their eyes, or so the Forbidden Majors whisper. The price is only low because of who and why he is. He helps them so they can die more valiantly, another day.

  Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he says, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands. This is despite the fact that half the Forbidden Majors and a fifth of the Literature Majors know who he is.

(Not that they would reveal that, ever. The all-father’s wrath is a terrible thing.)

  Addendum:

Statistics unavailable for those who encountered the Wild Hunt’s leader alone, while not wearing boots. Mythological references, as well as the Sword-House valet’s intuition, imply it is better not to know.

[Author’s Note]

I did not intend “Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want” to be so long. Do pardon me.

There is much debate over the identity of the Wild Hunt’s leader. My personal favourite theory is that the leader is Odin, or some variant of him, which this submission is based on. Still, I couldn’t resist hinting at the others:

“Bedraggled man” = multiple stories, in which the Hunt’s leader is any hunter who preferred hunting to going to church, or else slandered a certain god

“King of old” = Arawn

“Harlequin” = in Vitalis’ Ecclesiastical History Vol. 2 (1140), Hellequin/Herlequin is the herald of a Wild- Hunt-esque procession of tortured souls. There is also King Herla.

“Sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent” = Frau Gauden

-Louis

[thatrandomwriter]

Rooftop Romance

merle x reader

warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language

“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.

“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“

“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.

“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”

T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.

“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.

“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.

“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”

My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.

I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”

“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”

“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”

I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.

“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.

“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”

The thought made me laugh a little.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.

“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.

“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”

“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”

I hit him on the shoulder.

“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”

I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.

The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.

“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.

“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.

“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.

“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.

His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.

“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”

It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.

“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.

“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.

*

“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.

“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”

I hit his shoulder with mine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.

“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.

“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.

“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.

“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.

“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

*

When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.

“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.

“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.

“As I’ll ever be,”

I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.

“Can I have your belt?” I asked.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.

I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.

Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.

“Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?

I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.

“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.

I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.

“You think you can stand?”

“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.

We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.

“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.

“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “

“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”

He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”

“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.

“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”

Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.

“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.

[tutuandscoot]

This is one of my very very VERY favourite mid-program pictures. This is the only place I have seen it- a screen shot from a segment on The Social- hence the watermark. I did find a full length version that I’ll post at the end that is covered in watermarks also so obviously unusable. But yeh let me tell you why I loooovvveeee this:

This is on the Choctaw in the circle step seq. And it’s right on the lyrics “why does my heart cry” on any of the footage of this, coz it’s in the front right corner there’s never been front-on footage of it so until this pic I never really knew what was happening from the front..

Let’s start with Scotty.. omg… guys I’m literally never gonna shut up about what an incredible performer he is.. look at the commitment and abandon in his eyes.. he’s so lost in his character. He played this role so so well coz it’s sooo complicatd and layered-he has to really play a few different characters and kinda after this is when he gradually starts shedding the aggressive, predator character. His face and the way he’s holding her.. like he’s really presenting and displaying her to the judges.. just death staring them with this sinister look in his eyes and showing how he has total control of her. There’s so much going on in this story that this moment is like almost predicting the future- that she’s gonna die. Coz T’s face is like.. OMFG 🥺😭 I just want to save her. Like this isn’t a sexy moment- it’s her literally hanging onto life. Her face is foreshadowing that she gonna die- and this is showing what that would be under the darker circumstances- if she’d died at the hand of her aggressor rather than illness. There’s fear and helplessness in her eyes. Like she’s just trying hang on as he drags her away. I’ve said in another post how the the design around her neck kinda in a subtle way looks blood dripping down. And in the previous version of this (sci/nhk) he was choking her so this is like a less legit-obvious version of that same movement. Like his hand is just close enough to her neck to imply that he’s hurting her but not really- also side note- this is just another instance that shows how close they are in their partnering- his arm bent at nearly 90 degrees hand all the way over her shoulder- not just touching the top of it. On the actual footage of this in the IE she completely let’s her head go- almost decapitated- it just completely drops to the side towards his hand but usually in his more gentle character/demeanour he would be there to catch it. But it just drops and rolls around as he drags her away into the tango part:

I really can’t stress enough what phenomenal performers and artists they are.. so so much of what they are doing goes unnoticed by the general audience. In the competition format the audience just sees the stark ‘style’ contrasts between the top teams. But it’s what goes on beneath the surface with VM- the intention behind everything, the reason for it. That’s the stuff that can really only be understood by those who have been there themselves.. TS are true dancers. Obviously I love them endlessly and I’m dedicated to them only -so I don’t know much about other teams’ processes, but you can tell the difference between VM and everyone else- and it’s that they DANCE, everyone else skates. Dance is so much more than moving to music, it can be just about that, but IMO it’s the ones who completely shed their worldly selves in service of their story- they allow themselves to be consumed by their art. It’s that they live the music and the story in their souls. It feels like the music is coming out of them, as brilliant and damn near perfect as they are athletically it’s what comes from the inside out with them. They don’t start from the outside and work in. Yes it is a visual sport where lines need to be aesthetically pleasing and correct skating technique is required- but because they are already so good in that respect they are able to just live and perform as artists internally and can express that through their bodies. It’s funny to me that they have been referred to as ‘the people’s ice dancers- that the emotion they express is so easy to understand’ where as *certain other teams, are more elitist and secretive about their style and emotion- which is so ironic to me because as I mentioned above, what TS do is such a high level- introverted approach to their performances- that is very difficult for the majority of people to understand, yet it comes off as so relatable and the emotion is so easy to understand for everyone who watches them, where as *certain others, at least from my POV, approach it externally and from a very visual, superficial perspective which you would think is more relatable coz there so few layers. TS express real human emotion and make your heart ache for them. This moment pictured is so brief and as I said from this angle you get so much more than on the footage. You just want to save her from him but you know later on and by the end you just want them to be ok and be together forever. Their process is so internal and so about what they create between the two of them, yet welcome every one to experience it with them. They aren’t selfish about it- it’s not all about them. They can have it both ways because they are that good.

“One love, we get to share it”🎶

Ok poetic rant over.. I just love them so much or hurts sometimes. Here’s the full length picture:

[n1kolaiz]

"Man fears death and yet, at the same time, man is drawn to death. Death is endlessly consumed by men in cities and in literature. It is a singular event in one's life that none may reverse. That is what I desire."

Character Analysis: Dazai Osamu

Age: 22 || Ability: No Longer Human

I've done a lot of research concerning Dazai's character because of how complex he'd initially appeared to me. It is still a question as to what his personality type is; some say he's an ENTP while others argue that he's an INTJ, and his enneagram would most likely be 7w8 (The Realist), but that isn't the thing I'm going to focus on.

According to general databases and fan analyses, his temperament is dominantly melancholic. A person's temperament is basically how they react to and live in this world. For those of you not interested in such details, don't worry, I'll get to my point.

The melancholic behaviour is characterised by individualism, self-reliance, and reservation. People of the melancholic temperament are described as having been overcome with sorrow and depressive thoughts, which is beyond the feeling of "just being sad."

Nonetheless, they are generally calm beings, with a tendency to hide how they truly feel by keeping their composure, even in events that demand severe reaction otherwise. Other aspects of melancholic temperaments is that they are absorbed in the cruelty and tragedy of this world, and tend to get lost in their thoughts.

Sound familiar?

Dazai is seen to be as the comic relief of the adaptation, and he'd never fail to bring about a sense of lightheartedness to relieve the serious moments; we all know that for sure. Remember the time both him and Kunikida found Nobuko Sasaki in that godforsaken hospital, and how Kunikida asked him about his opinion on the current state of affairs?

But, despite having developed a calm and serene personality, Dazai's dark side was more apparent during the Dark Era. There was a type of intimidating and arrogant flair evident in his behaviour, or even on his face. It was the type of demeanour that came off cold and terrifying to the rather unlucky people he dealt with. In a moment's notice, they could literally die by his hands. And I believe most of them usually did. It was during this time, he was more brutal and vicious. He lacked remorse. Plus, Dazai's suicidal ideations were more dense during this Era, and his suicidal tendencies did not do anything to alleviate the depth of how dark his character was posed to be.

Side note: Unfortunately, people misunderstand this 'depressed' part of Dazai; they minimise his character so much to the point that people use only a single word to describe him: suicidal. He is, in fact, so much more than that. I'll elaborate more on that in a while.

"Hey, Odasaku, do you know why I joined the Mafia? I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence—close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that… I would be able to find something—a reason to live."

Dazai's approach to life is that of an aimless soul, weary of the world's oppressions and exhausted from the concept of living itself. Nevertheless, what he said above about having an expectation made me realise something: he had a goal, which he wasn't that enthusiastic about achieving—seeking for a reason to carry on with life. So he joined the Mafia.

And there, he met Oda Sakunosuke.

Despite how resilient Dazai carried himself to be (especially during the Dark Era), this specific excerpt stands in direct opposition of how he effortlessly embodied all things daunting:

"With every step I take, I feel as though the earth has opened up into a bottomless pit as I fall endlessly. As Dazai pointed to his forehead and approached the muzzle, the look on his face – like that of a child about to burst into tears – had already been branded upon my eyes."

- quoted by Oda Sakunosuke, excerpt from Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era Light Novel.

When I read this, it sent my mind into a spiral of despair and confusion. It was so vague, yet it made so much sense. Dazai was desperate to escape from this life, but part of him seemed to live in conflict with his desire for death. I won't elaborate more on this, because this specific excerpt has personal meaning to me, as I'd expect it to have for others as well; so I wouldn't want to ruin anyone else's perception on it.

Back to my point: Odasaku was one of the only characters who managed to interpret the complexity of Dazai's mindset and was able to compartmentalise the specific details of his persona that made Dazai the way he was. Oda knew that Dazai wasn't just suicidal.

"For most things in life, it's harder to succeed than fail. Wouldn't you agree? That's why I should attempt suicide rather than commit it! Committing suicide is difficult, but it should be relatively easier to fail at attempting suicide!"

Others boasted about how he was just a suicidal maniac, and that was only because of how good Dazai was at concealing his own feelings whilst flamboyantly priding himself in new, risky techniques, which he sometimes elaborated on. But Oda, on the other hand, saw through his jokes, and empathised with his friend, never wanting to ever barge into his vulnerability without Dazai's permission, but still trying to be there for him.

"Listen. You told me if you put yourself in a world of violence and bloodshed, you might be ale to find a reson to live. You won't find it. You should know that. Whether you're on the side that takes lives or the side that saves them, nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

Notice how Odasaku recognised Dazai's despair, before Dazai even dared to acknowledge his very own emotions? That was why, at Oda's death, he took the initiative to uncover Dazai's bandaged eye to show him that there was no use in concealing his feelings anymore.

Odasaku's last words to Dazai was to "be on the side that saves people," for he was aware that even though Dazai didn't believe there was a clear distinction between good and evil, he thought that perhaps Dazai would find meaning in his life, even if it was just a little bit of purpose.

In Dead Apple, we briefly relive this moment, but I'll write more on that some other time.

And when Dazai joined the ADA, he loses that dark side to him. No, wait, let me rephrase that: he loses a part of that dark side to him. He eliminated the raw sense of bitterness against the world from his face, and instead, he is seen to be a little more passive, and a little more adaptive. No doubt, he still does explicitly state his desire to die, but his wishes are very specific, if you know what I mean.

And a few years later, his journey with Atsushi began.

Atsushi and Dazai's relationship is just one of a kind. I think it isn't a matter of whether Atsushi needed Dazai, or whether Dazai needed Atsushi. It's the fact that they both needed each other. It's the way they both worked hand in hand, and how they sustained each other in ways they were lacking.

The two were polar opposites, but they had a tender kind of warmth embedded in their protectiveness for each other. Atsushi was just as lost as Dazai, but somehow, they worked together just fine. It was like their duality was meant to be. It was the type of symbiotic relationship, where their care for each other was implied, but very deep.

Does this also sound familiar... perhaps, in relation to Dazai's friendship with Odasaku?

Side note: Oda and Atsushi have the same enneagrams, which is Type 2, 'The Helper.'

There is a sort of balance that is brought about by two opposites. Odasaku taught Dazai many things, and I believe Oda learned a lot about a man's life from the way Dazai lived out his life with the innate desire to die. Atsushi sought for the right to live, while Dazai searched for a reason to live; in addition, Dazai validated Atsushi's feelings, and Atsushi was able to acknowlegde the amount of pain Dazai was going through.

Despite how Dazai's perspectives and beliefs stood in contrast with those of Oda's and Atsushi's, a type of inseparable bond connected the man who no longer felt like he was human, to the people who was the most human.

No Longer Human in the Japanese romaji is 'Ningen Shikkaku.' Ningen means "human," and Shikkaku means "disqualified." The late author, Dazai Osamu, wrote the book No Longer Human. He had gone through the rough throes of trauma and wrote this book as a semi-autobiography, whose plot was centred around a man who faked happiness, for he was tainted by the truth that everyone around him was fake themselves. He turned his life into a joke in order to protect himself from the delusions of this world.

This brings us back to the melancholic temperament, where a person was too deeply immersed in the sad truths of reality and the world itself.

And that's what Dazai's character and ability is based on: being disqualified as a human being, because he wasn't well-versed with what being human was actually like. The fabrications of being human sprung up all around him, but he wasn't willing to be fooled by how ingenuine the world truly was.

“I am convinced that human life is filled with many pure, happy, serene examples of insincerity, truly splendid of their kind—of people deceiving one another without (strangely enough) any wounds being inflicted, of people who seem unaware even that they are deceiving one another.”

- excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

People who don't feel human emotions or don't react to circumstances the way humans do have a variety of ways of explaining how they feel inhuman. They are highly intelligent, which separates them from the average class of humankind, since they've analysed and untangled the truths of life in order to attain understanding, which they value above all else. But, this understanding of the world and its painful truths results in a deep kind of sorrow, which only a few people can seem to empathise with in order to help them out with that burden.

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”

-excerpt from Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment.

Don't you think that this deep sorrow that lies in the heart of the intelligent, makes them the most human of all? They're too human, to the point where they don't feel human. Perhaps, it is a type of defence mechanism, where the mind numbs the heart from feeling normal human emotion, because logically breaking down such concepts is easier than feeling them. But it comes at a price. The heart is willing to recklessly comprehend and fathom any sort of emotion, including pain in its true form, but the mind bears more pain in understanding such concepts because it seeks to decipher every single agonising detail of how complex human emotions are. The mind thinks, the heart feels. There is a clear distinguishing factor between the two. Whether feeling hurts more than thinking, or thinking hurts more than feeling, or whether both these processes work hand-in-hand to make up the reality of life itself, is up for an individual to decide.

Only a few people can seem to empathise with intelligent people who are deeply sad at heart, in order to help them out. As for Dazai, it was Atsushi and Oda. They never took away the pain, but they made him grow from it; it worked vice versa, too.

Of course, there are less tedious and more appealing aspects to the concept of Dazai's intelligence. Dazai was seen as a threat to his enemies because of how manipulation and his keen skill of deduction made up how sharp his mind was. Besides, no one could commit '138 murders, 312 cases of extortion, and 625 cases of fraud, along with various and sundry other crimes,' without having a certain level of intelligence, right?

Dazai had the moral alignment of 'chaotic neutral.' He was more focused on using his intellect to achieve the desired end results of a predicament, and he wasn't afraid to use the wrong means. A famous example was when he deflated the airbags of Ango Sakaguchi's car in order to gain the assured protection of Kyouka Izumi.

Justice is a weapon. It can be used to cause harm, but it cannot protect or save others.

Another example was when he blew up Chuuya Nakahara's car.

Just kidding. That was just a simple pastime (；・∀ ・)

His moral alignment points to what Oda said about him: the part where he mentioned that Dazai didn't really see any difference between good and evil. As long as his ends were achieved, especially if it were in the benefit of his fellow colleagues, he wasn't afraid to exploit, threaten, or endanger others' wellbeing. Because, at the end of the day, the end result triumphed the morally bad methods utilised to achieve it, correct? He always had a reason for his motives and actions, even if those actions were evil and inexcusable.

(eg. action: the psychological abuse he bestowed upon Akutagawa Ryunosuke.

motive: to enable him to hone his own ability favourably and to curb his arrogance)

But the consequences of one's actions will always catch up with a person, no matter what heights they've achieved.

Okay, we're reaching the end of my rambling very soon, I promise.

“If I had to go, I’d like to go out just as beautifully.”

“I’d prefer you don’t go.”

This part of the post is highly inspired by iwachuwu!!

An important factor of Dazai's development is highlighted BSD Wan's episode 10:

I'd like to appreciate that this scene focuses on how much Dazai actually means to Atsushi. When Atsushi responds with "I'd prefer you don't go," he said it lightheartedly for he thought Dazai was joking. But he wasn't. And once Atsushi absorbed the fact that Dazai meant what he said, he was overwhelmed with anguish at the thought of ever losing Dazai. Dazai, on the other hand, had a sense of longing on his expression. There was that look of pure desperation on his face. He was so desperate, yet he knew he couldn't act on his desperation due to a promise he'd made to someone dear to him. But keep in mind, Dazai is unpredictable, so we can never be sure of what's going on in that headspace of his.

Nevertheless, this time, Atsushi recognised Dazai's suffering, as no one usually cared to do, and Dazai didn't put in any effort to hide how he truly felt, as he habitually did. And this mutual emotional connection happened countless times during all the times Oda spent with Dazai as well.

To summarise,

Dazai's character had been carefully wired and patterned out in a way only a few would put in the effort to understand. Dazai was more than just suicidal; he was a being wandering from place to place with no specific aim. He was too smart for his own good. Dazai understood too well of how the world worked and deemed it void of any sort of hope.

Side note: Yes, the truth does come at a price, but it all comes down to how a person understands the truth. As for Dazai (both character and the author he was based off upon), well, it was quite tragic. But that's the way it is for some people, I suppose. But everyone has a different path to travel on, remember that.

His transition from working with the Port Mafia to the Armed Detective Agency was proof of how well-executed his character development was. It was two different personas morphed into what he is today: a womaniser with questionable morals a person who is still standing even after the rough refining process endowed upon him by the realities of this life.

However, he had people along the way come and teach him a thing or two, which perhaps made his life a little more interesting. Perhaps these people were passing clouds that hid the void out of sight for just a moment, and Dazai was always seen to be grasping on to these moments, and letting them go whenever it was time to let go.

His outlook on life makes his intellect look all the more intriguing. It shows that not only does his intelligence contribute to his own wit and shrewdness, but also the practical sense of realism that explains how tired he is of the concept of living because of the truths there are to bear.

However he's enduring the pain right now is by far the most bravest thing a person could commit themselves to doing. It takes courage, and it takes strength, but only a few would ever take the time to recognise such efforts.

Dazai has one of the most beautiful character developments, but I do hope that the development doesn't reach its end anytime soon.

fanart credits: @S7dOZPN3jWBB6cW on twitter

“Now I have neither happiness nor unhappiness.

Everything passes.

That is the one and only thing that I have thought resembled a truth in the society of human beings where I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.

Everything passes.”

excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

[peach-coke]

PEACHY!! I just finished the final. How u doing? What do you think?

Hey Sol! Sorry for leaving you hanging with an answer for a couple days but I had to process. And mourn, after all I said goodbye to something that has been part of me for 15 years. That's half my life. It's weird and I don't think I've ever cried as much as I have in the past 3 days but... Well. Luckily, they're happy tears. "Don't cry because it's over, cry because it happened" aside? I love the ending.

It's all I could've ever asked for. Ah, who am I kidding? It's more than that. I was prepared to be gutted in a really bad way. I am gutted but for all the right reasons. It was tragic. It was painful. It was beautiful. But most of all? It was a Love-Letter.

I know there’s a lot of people who’re upset about parts of the episode; I understand. We’re all grieving in our own ways. I hope however, that once the dust has settled and feelings stop spiking into extremes, people will realize that the episode left so many things unsaid and ambiguous... Meaning there's lots and lots of space for interpretation and headcanons to “fix” the finale into something that makes it better for you. And I’d like to think this was done on purpose.

I’m soo sorry I end up rambling on one of your asks again Sol, but I’ll do exactly that to pick up some of the things I’ve seen people be most upset about and give some of my perspective on them. Maybe it’ll help some people to feel better and grow to love the final as much as I do ♥

One thing I’ve seen a lot of people be upset about is that Dean didn’t get to live the life they’ve fought for so hard. Actually? We don’t know that. There is no timestamps, no indicators that tell us they didn’t do what we saw in the first domestic montage for a couple years. The only hint we have is that Miracle is still around and kicking, so it couldn’t have been more than maybe 6 years (because 6-8ish is when a dog that size shows clears signs of aging). Besides that? Nobody and nothing stops us in believing they had that “domestic bliss with a little bit of hunting on the side”-life for quite a while before it happened.

Them talking about mourning Cas and Jack is no indicator either. I still mourn people I lost 15 years ago, when the occasion calls for it or I remember them in moments that they would’ve loved to be part of. Mourning never stops… Of course, even 6 years aren’t a lifetime. But do we really think Dean - our Dean - would’ve been happy and content with a 9-to-5 job? Yeah, didn’t think so either...

Then, we have the rebar. Which honestly didn’t bother me at all, for several reasons. First, I love parallels and this episode was so full of them… Not only was the whole “stabbed in the back” thing a direct callback to arguably the most painful death in the series to date – Sam’s first in All Hell Breaks Loose – it was also a callback to The Song Remains the Same. The episode where Sam is stabbed by Anna – with a rebar/fixture she ripped out of the wall - and bleeds out on the floor. The only reason he got out of it alive, is because John!Michael fixed him. Otherwise? He would’ve died by being stabbed with a rebar. Just like that.

Ash himself told them that they died several times together and can’t remember because the angels don’t want them to. We, the viewers, have never seen them die together until Dark Side Of The Moon. Which strongly implies that they must’ve died on random hunts. More than once.

So Dean’s death in the barn? That’s what happens to Hunters who have no divine intervention. That’s what happens to Hunters who are living the life without being chosen for something bigger. That’s what happens to Hunters with free will. Dean’s death in the barn was a true Hunter’s death. The one he always wanted. There’s no glory, there’s nothing special about it. It just is. And I thought that was tragically poetic in its own way.

I know people were expecting them to go out Butch and Sundance style. Together – I admittedly wanted that too. But the way Dean’s death happened didn’t bother me at all. And honestly? Sam’s soul died in that barn, too. We know it did. So they did go out together, one way or another. It was just not the way we expected.

The cinematic parallels of Sam’s life without Dean to Dean’s life without Sam after Swan Song honestly floored me. It was beautifully heartbreaking.

We see Sam living his life while Dean is driving along “right there beside him, every step of the way”. We see him holding on for Dean, fulfilling the promise he made to his brother about living on. Making sure there’s always a Winchester that knows love left in the world. The final sacrifice of Sam, the bravest and strongest man we know. Sam, who sits down in the car he once called home, to be close to the one person that always held the same connotation. Sam, who knows his other half is waiting for him, sitting just there in the same spot he is. Every step of the way. That’s my Supernatural right there.

What I especially like about the whole thing is, that it once again leaves us with another take besides the one we actually saw and thought obvious. We can also pretend Sam died on that werewolf hunt, shortly after Dean’s death. There is nothing that stops you from seeing this as canon, (There’s actually quite a few hints that it’s a very strong possibility), because the way the whole scene played out could’ve easily been a daydream of Dean while he was driving in heaven.

The fact they left it open like that is a gift, in my eyes. They could’ve easily forced a fixed narrative on us. But they didn’t. Same with so many other things. They left us with so many possibilities and room for our own takes. And I think it’s fair that people need time to process what we’ve been given here. It’s fair that people are still upset about some aspects, because they have yet to realize that there is a pathway for them to see it differently, without discarding canon at all.

There’s only one thing that is not open for interpretation. And that’s that Sam and Dean love each other as much as two human beings can love each other. And none of them is complete without the other. I never quite understood why some people needed the show to end on romantic notes. Supernatural has never been about that. It has always been about the deep, abiding love those two brothers had for each other and how neither heaven nor hell ever stood a chance against it. Platonic love is just as beautiful as romantic love; sometimes even more so. And that’s what this finale showed us.

And that’s why I love it so much. Why I say it’s a Love-Letter. It’s a Love-Letter to us; The ones who’ve been there all the way from the start. The ones who’ve seen the show for what it is and what it has always been: The epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester.

Despite all that, it is still valid to dislike the ending. You are entitled to do so. But if you really think Sam and Dean - two soulmates, surrounded by the people they love, at peace - spending the rest of eternity together in heaven is the absolute worst possible ending that destroyed everything the show ever stood for? I’m sorry, but in that case you did not understand Supernatural at all.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #33: In Which I Write the Word ‘Quantum‘ 19 Times

Dang, I forgot what happened at the end of the last issue. It was pretty important, too, but I don’t have time to reread. Maybe the establishing shot can help me out?

Oh, that’s right, Rewind happened!

Everyone’s pretty jazzed that Rewind is here, non-exploded, and supposedly alive. Megatron carries this ridiculously small man over to a table, while Skids is busy admonishing Nightbeat for trying to put the pieces of this mystery together.

That’s one of the two first canonically, openly gay Transformers, Megatron. You bet your ass he’s important.

Nightbeat’s dragged Nautica over to look at that poster for Crosscut’s play they saw last issue. Together, they discover something interesting, and it’s not that Nightbeat’s chin has elongated to the point of absurdity. On this future ship, the play was completed and produced a mere few weeks after the initial launch of the Lost Light.

While this is going on, Rewind wakes up and asks Skids what the hell is going on. Skids, likely not wanting to poke at farm-fresh trauma, glosses over the fact that everyone on this ship was violently murdered, and that they found Rewind blacked out inside the hollowed torso of his brother-in-law.

…This is a dark story line.

You see, the joke here is that “Dark Cybertron” sucked major chrome.

Megatron reminds everyone that they’re still in grave danger every moment they stay aboard this ship, but Skids is more concerned with Rewind’s mental health. Which is sweet, but maybe not the thing to prioritize in such a precarious situation.

Rewind takes the fact that Megatron is an Autobot now pretty friggin’ well, as well as the introduction of gender into his species. That is, until Nightbeat, the king of social graces, saunters up to the scene to ask Rewind what the hell happened to the ship. He does get his answers, despite Rewind being horrified to the point of speechlessness.

Over at the hole in the wall, Nautica and Riptide are taking a gander at the quantum drums, which house the quantum foam for the quantum engines so quantum jumps can happen.

As Nautica explains the process by which quantum travel works, she realizes that the answer to what happened to everyone who disappeared was right in front of them this whole time.

Quantum, quantum, quantum- doesn’t even sound like a word anymore, does it?

The data slug Rewind made corroborates this theory, showing a series of events that definitely didn’t happen to the Lost Light we’ve been following throughout this story so far. The data slug contains this Rewind’s version of dead Rewind’s “Little Victories”, the travelogue that was never completed, where the question “are you happy?” revealed just how emotionally unhealthy most of the crew is. I’d like to imagine this Rewind’s film is called “Small Achievements”, or perhaps “Dear Fucking Lord, We’ve Been on this Trip for Three Hours and the Captain Has Been Killed by a Goddamned Soul-Vampire”, or maybe even “Where the FUCK is Our Therapist”.

The DJD came into the equation by way of someone having led them to the Lost Light. We get a flashback panel of the gorefest, in which Tarn appears to have learned how to fly, given the angle he’s coming from.

Because Rewind’s big thing in this series is being the guy who records stuff, the DJD take the opportunity to make some movies of their visit to the space yacht.

James, why do you keep getting Rewind involved with snuff films? I’m starting to get concerned.

Now, the thing about Rewind is that he’s almost always accompanied by his other half. Where is Chromedome, anyway?

He’s dead, that’s where.

Turns out, when you tell the DJD that you won’t do the thing they want you to do, they have a habit of doing nasty things in retaliation. Chromedome got stabbed in the friggin’ visor with his own finger needles, because Vos enjoys ironic deaths, I suppose. There’s some other stuff that’s implied to have happened, but we’ll get to that once we learn a little more about the DJD themselves.

While Rewind recounts the grisly tale of his husband’s demise, Riptide notes that the quantum foam has begun to spread at a remarkable rate. This is a bad thing, because that shit can and will explode, given half the chance, and this wreck is floating right above a potentially-inhabited planet.

Though I could have sworn we established that this planet was a Smartplanet, and therefore very much populated by students and staff. I don’t know. Maybe we conveniently forgot that, so we could make this a learning moment for Megatron.

Jiminy Christmas, Megs, do you even listen to yourself?

Skids, who has had a very long day of finding corpses and learning about quantum theory, snaps at Megatron, telling him that in order to actually be an Autobot, you have to have a little frickin’ compassion for those outside of your peer group.

Which is sort of contradictory to the Aequitas trials, the Killswitch debacle, the POW situation back on Cybertron, and whatever the fuck Prowl’s whole deal is, but maybe Skids is speaking about his own, personal relationship with being an Autobot. Hopefully so, otherwise he needs a class on critical thinking, STAT.

Never mind all of that though, because the problem just got a lot worse- the quantum foam has expanded to a point where any holes in the stuff are too small for the Rod Pod to get through. We’re going to have to get creative if we want to save the day.

Luckily, we’ve got a quantum duplicate of just about the tiniest little dude in the franchise here to do the job. Now we just need another, equally tiny little man, so the quantum drums can be shut off at the same time. Nautica commits more microaggressions, and this gives Getaway inspiration for a witty quip, which in turn gives Skids a brilliant idea.

The gang heads down to Brainstorm’s lab, to look for the mass displacement gun that was used for treating Ultra Magnus’s nanocon infestation back in the 2012 Annual. While they search, Nautica explains just why the hell the Lost Light disappeared in the first place. You see, quantum duplication acts on the Cain Instinct— it’s fine, as long as the duplicates don’t perceive each other. However, the moment contact is made, it says “oh man, guess I’m gonna have to end you” to one of the duplicates. The contact in this case happened when the Coffin Rodimus was brought aboard the ship.

Anything that wasn’t aboard the Lost Light at the point of the takeoff/explosion was never duplicated, and thus wasn’t erased from reality once shit started going to hell. This is why the Rod Pod is still around, and why the remaining cast are— well, the remaining cast.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica and Nightbeat uncover yet another dead body; it’s Brainstorm, and he’s a little underdressed.

…Someone run a paternity test, I think Cyclonus might be the father.

Also, Brainstorm’s a double agent.

Fucked up.

Getaway is furious that a Decepticon has been living on the same ship as him for the last six months, right under his proverbial nose. Even Megatron’s surprised, stating that Brainstorm isn’t usually who the recruiters aim for.

So, no mass displacement gun, and now they’re aware of the fact that there’s a traitor on the ship who’s had access to a LOT of weapon tech. It’s at this point that Megatron decides to stop lying by omission and tells everyone that he can mass-displace, since he used to turn into a handgun.

Smashcut to Megatron and Rewind floating out in space, the former now not much taller than the latter, as they traverse the web of quantum foam to get to the drums. Nautica instructs them from the Rod Pod. If this works, anything produced or connected to the quantum engine will be neutralized, and maybe we’ll even get the other Lost Light back! YAAAAAY!!!

Y’all really let this man go out there to fuckin’ kill himself for the greater good, didn’t you?

Rewind is honestly pretty chill with ceasing to be, seeing as he watched 200/+ people die today, including his long-time spouse.

Jesus. I’d say get him a therapist, but in order to do that, we’re going to have to wipe him off the map anyway.

Rewind asks Megatron if the Chromedome that isn’t his and his duplicate are still together. And I mean…

Luckily, Megatron has the good sense to lie.

With that, they flip the switches, and deactivate the drums.

And that’s a series wrap on Rewind! Congrats to Mr. James Roberts for the esteemed honor of burying the same gay twice!

Later on, everyone is back inside the Rod Pod, as their disappeared shipmates return from being nonexistent. Chromedome pops back in, and Skids is on him like a shark, telling him to go on the roof. Skids doesn’t even try to explain why. Which, fair. How the hell do you explain to someone that their dead husband’s quantum duplicate survived both a terrorist splinter cell attack, and the laws of quantum sci-fi bullshit crashing down on his tiny, tiny body, and that he’s right there on the roof waiting for them?

Welp, there goes the Chromedome/Dominus endgame. Shame, that.

Looks like Chromedome finally hit the threshold for having earned Roberts’ pity, and won’t be directly targeted by the plot for a little while. This isn’t something you see very often, so let’s really soak this in.

…Someone had to have told Rewind what happened to the other Rewind, right? I wonder what that conversation was like.

Back inside the ship, Blaster gets word that the Lost Light has reappeared. As they navigate towards it, Megatron requests that an encrypted call be made to Rodimus, to discuss the Brainstorm problem.

In the interim, Ravage is offered the opportunity to be a part of the crew, so he doesn’t have to keep skulking around in the shadows. We don’t get an answer from him, as our focus shifts over to Nightbeat and Nautica.

Nightbeaaaaaaaaaat, stop stating the themes of the comic verbatim! People are going to start thinking you’re a shonen anime protagonist!

Nightbeat’s somehow managed to keep ahold of the briefcase that they found on the other Lost Light. Unless Brainstorm’s boyfriend is in there, I don’t think this one was the work of Huey Lewis and the News’ hit single from the Back to the Future soundtrack.

Over on the Lost Light, specifically in Swerve’s, Brainstorm’s making his way through the crowd, briefcase held gentle like hamburger as he goes. He makes it to the bar, where Atomizer tells him he can’t have his briefcase in here. Brainstorm has what most would accept to be a healthy response to being told “no.”

It’s what I would do.

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (Chapter 1)

hi mothers and fuckers of the jury, this fic is a hot mess but so am I, please appreciate it. Also, obligatory disclaimer this is about the characters not the people, all that important stuff.

Some important notes:

1. You will probably hate Scott just a little at points. He has chronic dumb bitch syndrome and there's a whole lot of bullshit going on in his life that you don't see in this fic because it's not his pov. That being said, he's still a bit of a jerk.

2. This has a lot of lord of the rings lore. A LOT. You may be kinda confused if you're not a lord of the rings fan. It's fine, Jimmy's confused too, and all of it will be explained at some point.

3. The chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films. The general title is from I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski.

4. General content warnings: there is a little blood, and a little violence, and a lot of mentioned death and morbid jokes. If you don't do well with themes involving death this fic is probably not for you. There is also possibly going to be referenced emotional abuse and generally unhealthy ways to raise children, though that will be talked about much further down the line. I will also put specific cws at the start of each chapter, don't worry!

5. The alternate title for this was '10k words of flower husbands being sad'. You have been warned.

Title: i know they're losing

Chapter Title: under clouds, beneath the stars

Current Total Wordcount: 3740

Content Warning: referenced/past character death, very frank discussion of death.

Snippet:

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.”

AO3 Link

Actual fic under the cut

Scott’s hands are cold. That’s the first sign, the chill that’s uncharacteristic of an elf.

Scott’s chest hurts. That’s the second sign, the bone-deep ache he can’t seem to quell.

Scott is weaker than normal, and that’s the third sign, the one that confirms what’s happening beyond a shadow of a doubt. He’s fading, Scott thinks as he leans against a wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. He can’t say he’s surprised, not after all he’s been through; in fact, he’s more astonished it took so long to start.

-

In another world, it happens like this:

Scott’s hands are cold, and Shubble notices as he shows her around the nether. It’s worrying, a bit, how icy his skin is even in the boiling dimension, but Scott’s empire has always been cold, hasn’t it?

Katherine notices how long it’s been since Scott visited her, one of his few allies, and she worries, a bit. But Scott has always been distant, hasn’t he?

No one notices or worries enough to go check on him, and Scott fades away to nothing, cold and alone in his icy empire.

-

What actually happens is this:

Katherine has gotten word of the demon that haunts the server, and amongst all her worry, one of her thoughts is ‘has anyone checked on Scott?’. The answer is no, and next time she has a free day, she sets out for Rivendell. It’s not a long trip, not with elytra, anyways, and soon she’s at the doors to his keep.

“I need to see Lord Smajor,” she tells the guards.

“He’s not taking visitors right now.” is the response she gets.

“It’s a vital matter to the safety of both our kingdoms.”

They let her in.

Katherine spends far too long looking around the elegantly decorated downstairs and storage area before she realizes he must be up the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. She’s never been upstairs in Scott’s house before, which makes her a little nervous, but… this is an urgent matter, so she presses on into what turns out to be a very pretty bedroom. Decorated with bookshelves aplenty and gorgeous lanterns, it practically screams Scott.

The man (elf?) himself is harder to spot. At first, Katherine’s worried he isn’t there at all, but eventually she realizes that he’s still in bed despite the fact that it’s a quarter to one, only his pale face sticking out from under the covers.

“Scott?” She asks, cautious. “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her tiredly. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?”

“No, no, stay.” He waves at the sole chair in the room, which is near-enough to the bed. “I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat hesitantly. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Scott laughs, a little bitter. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.”

She obeys, confused, and finds that Scott’s hands are like ice despite the warmth of the room.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott says. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.”

She gasps a little.

“It usually happens to old elves, world-weary,” Scott continues. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

It takes Katherine a moment to process everything, and once she does, she stares at him in horror. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.”

“Oh.” She struggles for words for a moment, settling on “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.”

Try as she might, there’s nothing she can say to that. “Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?”

Something pained and raw flashes through his eyes. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.”

Katherine nods seriously, absorbing the information. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No,” she tells him firmly. “You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.”

Scott stares at her for a long moment, but eventually he takes her outstretched hand. “Alright.” His hand is frozen cold in hers. “We can try.”

Katherine lets him lead her around Rivendell, pointing out the sights. He’s done an impressive job decorating, like her, and an even more impressive job at uniting the elves and building an empire from the ground up. The people of Rivendell are weary and battle-scarred, for the most part, elves who have seen too much, but the children are bright and happy, and the cyan and gold banners wave proudly in the wind.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

Scott nods. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya- well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?”

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer that one.

Katherine leaves feeling unsettled, with more questions than answers. She has new resolve, though, and a new goal: keep Scott from fading. He’s a good friend, though they don’t know each other that well yet, but more than that, he’s a powerful ally. And Katherine can’t afford to lose allies. So while they’re both rulers and busy in their own right, she promises to visit and drag him outside at least once a week.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scott jokes, but his laugh is weak.

Katherine vows to hold herself to it.

-

The plan works for three entire weeks before Katherine has a week that’s so busy there’s no way she can find the time for a trip to Rivendell. Worse than that, because Scott is so isolated, he has almost no other friends, and many of Katherine’s allies are busy too. She’s a little short of options, to be honest, which is how she finds herself on Jimmy Solidarity’s doorstep that Sunday afternoon.

“Hello?” Jimmy asks as the door swings open. Katherine can see why Lizzie calls him the sweet swamp boy- his confused head tilt is frankly adorable.

“Hi! I know we don’t talk much, but I could use a favor,” she says.

“What can I do for you?”

“I need you to visit Scott.”

Jimmy looks beyond startled. “What- I mean, he doesn’t even like me! I couldn’t possibly.”

“Please?” She wheedles. “I promised him a visitor every week, but I have meetings all week this time.”

He shakes his head, hesitantly at first and then stronger. “No, Katherine. He’d just throw me right out again. I’m his enemy, for goodness sake!”

“If he hates you so much, why do you have his ring?”

Katherine knows she’s won, watching emotions flit across his face too quickly to catch. Grief is what he settles on, and she feels a little bit bad for the ring comment when his voice comes out wobbly.

“I guess I should return that, huh? Alright, I’ll go.”

“Sorry,” she says.

Jimmy brushes it off, saying there’s no need to worry, but he fiddles with the ring on his finger all the more. It’s on his left ring finger, Katherine notes. She wonders if that truly means what it implies.

“I’ll visit him tomorrow,” Jimmy says.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

-

Jimmy isn’t sure why he agreed to this at all, to be honest. Scott may have given him this ring in another world, another lifetime, but that doesn’t mean Scott doesn’t hate him in this one. What other explanation is there for how all his gifts have been rejected, how cold the elf is? Jimmy would be surprised that Scott’s never tried to take his ring back if it wasn’t for how thoroughly Scott avoids him nowadays. Getting the ring back would require talking to Jimmy, something Scott has made it very clear that he doesn’t want to do. Jimmy doesn’t have another use for it, and try as he might to forget flower fields and warm hands in his, he can’t bear to throw it away. So it’s remained on his hand all this time, a painful reminder of someone who used to love him.

Jimmy tries to avoid looking at it as much as possible, every glimpse bringing back the memory of Scott gently sliding it onto his hand, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Even the faint shimmers in the blue gem remind him of how the starlight seemed to get caught in Scott’s hair when they were out at night. The ring had been one of their most valuable possessions on 3rd Life, the rare silver band and elegant forging more than proof of that. Now, though, the ring has to be one of the least valuable things Jimmy owns; on 3rd Life, they were humble folk in little hobbit holes, their most expensive possessions being their diamond armor and swords, but here, they’re kings and lords. Scott probably has a thousand treasures more valuable in his elven empire, so Jimmy’s not sure why he’s bothering to trek all the way across the world just to return this one.

Then again, it’s not really about the ring, and never has been. It’s about the way starlight used to shine in Scott’s eyes when he smiled, his rare, soft grin that was reserved just for Jimmy, how he gave Jimmy the most valuable thing either of them owned. It’s closure, in a way, giving it back. He won’t have any debt to Scott once this ring is returned, and they can both move on like Scott so clearly wants to.

Shaking off those thoughts, Jimmy slows to a stop in front of Scott’s house. It’s grand, nothing like his old hobbit hole, but still so clearly Scott in the decoration and color schemes. Jimmy would know who built it even if he hadn’t known Scott lived in these mountains.

“I’m here to visit Scott,” he says to the guard stationed outside.

They raise an eyebrow, presumably at the familiar way he refers to Scott. “On formal business or personal?”

“Personal? Sort of? I mean, I don’t have any diplomatic reason for being here.” Truth be told, he has no reason to be here at all, really, but...the ring.

“Then Lord Smajor cannot see you.”

Jimmy grits his teeth, suddenly furious at this whole ordeal. “Then tell Lord Smajor that I need to return his ring.”

“May I see it?”

He sticks his hand out obligingly, and the guard examines the ring, surprise blooming across their face. “I did not realize my Lord had lent you Vilya! My apologies, Lord Codfather, I see the alliance between our kingdoms is stronger than I had assumed. You may pass.”

Vilya? “Thank you, gentle, uh, gentleperson!”

The guard dips their head slightly as he walks by, a gesture of respect that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He shakes off the strangeness of the interaction, though, pushing open the door to Scott’s house.

The inside is beautiful, exactly the kind of decor Scott loves...and empty. There’s no one in the spacious kitchen, the storage room, or anywhere else for that matter. Jimmy’s seconds from giving up and going home when he realizes that there are stairs up to the balcony above. That’s where he goes, finding himself in Scott’s bedroom.

Which is awkward, to say the least. It’s not like they never slept in the same room when they were married, but now that there’s this awkward, painful distance between them, Jimmy feels like he’s intruding. What’s worse is, Scott’s still in bed, laying on his side with his face tilted away from Jimmy’s awkward entrance.

“Hello, Jimmy.”

Jimmy half-jumps, not expecting that. “How’d you know it was me?”

Scott rolls over to face him, and Jimmy notes that his face is too pale for it to be natural or healthy. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He goes on before Jimmy can answer. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?”

Scott’s laugh is bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks, concerned despite himself.

His (ex?)husband doesn’t reply.

“Save you from what?” Jimmy presses, and gets no answer yet again.

Instead, Scott sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You should go.” He stands, and immediately stumbles, Jimmy rushing to steady him on instinct. Scott’s hands are like ice when he grips Jimmy’s arm to regain his balance, taking several deep breaths, and Jimmy’s instantly struck by how wrong that feels. Scott’s hands were always warm, even on the coldest nights in 3rd life. Some elven thing, probably, that Scott didn’t want to talk about or have time to explain to a silly human like Jimmy.

“Scott, what is going on?”

The elf brushes him off again, heading for the stairs, but the regal effect is ruined by how hard he has to grip the railing.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.” Scott turns back to the stairs. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

Jimmy follows, reluctantly, trying to think of something to say that isn’t incoherent sputtering with a bit of ‘why do you hate me now’ added in. “You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!”

“You did ask, to be fair.”

Why oh why is he so stupid around Scott? “I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They start along the path, Scott walking far too quickly for Jimmy’s comfort given how terrible the elf’s balance is currently. He nearly has to jog to keep up, irritatingly, but at least they aren’t snapping at each other for a few precious moments.

Of course, Jimmy has to go and ruin that. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?” He has to hear it from Scott’s own lips that he remembers, that it affected him even half as much as it’s affected Jimmy.

“No.”

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .”

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

Scott freezes, face going icy calm in the way Jimmy knows means he’s actually upset. The elf’s hands grip the fabric of his robes tight, his back going rigid. This is a bad idea, Jimmy knows.

He’s in too deep to back out now, though, the pent-up hurt of the past few months all coming out in a rush. “Tell me I’m wrong, Scott! I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott breathes out slowly, fury gradually building on his face. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died? You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy ?”

Jimmy’s name on Scott’s lips punches all the remaining air out of him, sounding so wrong in that angry, bitter tone. Beneath all the rage, Scott sounds wrecked , and the fight leaves Jimmy’s body abruptly. “No,” he says softly. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

Silence follows those words, only the faint sound of a waterfall in the distance there to break it.

“I buried you on the hill above our houses,” Scott says finally. “I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

Jimmy swallows hard. “Did he?”

“How would I know?” Scott’s tone softens, just a little. “Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now? I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott turns away again, starting down the path a second time. He’s not looking at Jimmy when he says “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” It’s a shock, honestly, given that this is the first time the two of them have really spoken since the beginning of empires. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott still won’t look at him. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says dryly, and Jimmy doesn’t even realize it’s a joke until he looks over at Scott’s wry little grin.

“Scott! That’s not funny!” He scolds, aghast.

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Scott must hear the genuine distress in Jimmy’s voice because he drops the act. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.”

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy demands.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it? But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

Jimmy wants to argue, wants to fight him on this, but there’s nothing he can say. Instead, he puts a hand on Scott’s arm to stop him walking any further. Scott turns to look at him, seemingly startled, and Jimmy throws his arms around the elf.

Scott stiffens before slowly relaxing, arms coming up to wrap around Jimmy in return. It’s not as natural a gesture as it used to be, but it’s warm, gentle in a way Jimmy thought he’d never get again. It reminds him of the soft, starry-eyed boy who put flowers in his hair and laughed at him over a cake. Scott will never be that soft again and Jimmy will never be unscarred, but they’re here. They’re alive, that has to count for something.

Scott pulls back, his expression so achingly tender and heartbroken all at once. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” His voice is raw, a little shaky. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

He’s cut off by Scott shaking his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.”

Jimmy’s in too much shock to speak, the ache in his heart returning tenfold as Scott turns back towards the house.

“Goodbye, Jimmy.” He sweeps away, elegant as ever, but stumbles and nearly falls as he reaches the door. Jimmy’s not there to catch him.

Jimmy stumbles home in a daze. It's somewhat of a miracle that no mob manages to kill him, honestly. To be so close to a resolution, to have the person he wanted most right there in his arms, and then to have all that ripped away- he can’t think of anything that could have hurt more. Even his deaths were less painful than this- at least an arrow through the throat is quicker than feeling like your heart is being ripped out through your ribs, Jimmy thinks, a little bitter. He throws Scott’s stupid ring in a pool in the swamp, watching as it sinks to the bottom of the shallow water with hardly a bubble.

Wait.

The ring.

It’s significant, somehow, according to a Rivendell guard, and more than that, it’s an excuse to see Scott again. One last chance to change his mind about the stupid plan that’s literally killing him.

Jimmy dives in without thinking, scrabbling around until his fingers close around the smooth stone and thin band. When he pulls it out, the gem glitters in the starlight even under the layers of dirt, and it looks like something special. It looks like hope.

[ichayalovesyou]

hi you know loads of stuff about vulcans, do you know anything abt their funerals? particularly songs/poems they might recite? i know neelix sang part of a funeral dirge in voyager but i can't find any others.

Vulcan Funerals

I appreciate the compliment! Unfortunately, aside from the fraction of a funeral dirge we see in Voyager, there is little canonical information on the technical practices. However if you want a funeral dirge for T’Khasi and all the Vulcans who perished when Niro destroyed Vulcan in the Kelvin timeline, check out Nadordatoran na’o T’Khasi by T’Prion. OR if you want to delve into a modern human dirge translated into Vulcan, Denatonia did a cover of How To Save A Life by The Fray (which I nicknamed Remembering A Friend in my head, because of the slight change of lyrics in the translation).

Here is all the information we have on Vulcan funerary practices to make up for the tragic lack of canonical music! (Star Trek II & III, & Star Trek: Enterprise & TNG spoilers ahead!)

The most we know about Vulcan funerary practices we can extrapolate from Spock’s death (and resurrection) in Wrath of Khan & The Search For Spock. As well as the temples Mount Seleya & T’Karath Sanctuary, the existence of Katric Arks, and the knowledge of Surak’s Disciple, T’Klass’s body. On top of all that, parallels to human cultures.

The starting point of a Vulcan death is the transference of the Katra (if possible) or the Vulcan soul. When a Vulcan knows they will die soon, they transfer their Katra to another individual. Sarek’s accusations toward Jim in The Search For Spock, and Spock’s internal commentary in the Wrath of Khan novelization imply a few things. That the carrier of the deceased’s Katra must be trained or at least prepared, and close to the deceased, physically if not emotionally. Spock ruled out Saavik because he wasn’t prepared/close enough, and Jim because he could not get to him in time, choosing then to take the unprecedented act of placing his own Katra into a human, McCoy. I only say unprecedented because Syrran put someone else’s Katra, Surak’s, into Archer’s mind before his death, forfeiting the chance to preserve his own Katra.

It is a notable fact that Katras have a significant mortality rate, resulting in the true and permanent death of a Vulcan, especially when off-world or not amongst their own people. Many things can go wrong. A Vulcan cannot transfer their Katra if they die suddenly and unexpectedly. The Katra can also be lost if they fail to transfer it to another host properly, or if the host dies before transferring the Katra to a practitioner. Who knows how to transfer the Katra to a Katric Ark, like the priestesses at Mt. Seleya. Even then, the only known successful Katric Ark transfer and maintenance of a Katra was Surak’s, all other discovered Katric Arks have appeared empty.

That being said, there may be rituals and alternatives. Such as the deceased’s Katra selecting loved ones to be transferred to over time (whose Katra gets transferred upon death may vary) almost like a sort of Soul Swap Meet. Alternatively a ritualistic releasing of a Katra if one does not believe in the merit of Katric Arks or wish to burden loved ones/future generations with sustaining their Katra. We see evidence of the first example in The Guiding Light, when Spock transfers his deceased father’s Katra from Picard to himself. Although we do not know whether Spock still harbors it, or what became of Sarek’s Katra after the scene.

So what happens to the body once the Katra has left or is no more? The only funeral/burial for a Vulcan we see in-canon is Spock’s. His is more of a generic Federation burial-at-sea with no other Vulcans present aside from Saavik, I do not think we can use his funeral as a quintessential example. Although I do think it’s worth noting he is interred in his Kohlinar robe, this may be a legitimate practice even for those who did not complete Kohlinar to be buried in their robe, or it may have just so happened to be the most appropriate clothing he had aboard to be buried in (by human standards, I’m sure it was at least not disrespectful, I’m sure Saavik would’ve said something otherwise).

The only named body we ever see interred however is T’Klass. His mummified remains entombed at the T’Karath Sanctuary along with the Kir’Shara. This implies that mummification, at least for highly regarded members of Vulcan spiritual/philosophical society, was a sacred (if not common practice).

T’Karath Sanctuary also contains catacombs, we do not know who else is interred there, it may only be a burial place for Vulcans of T’Klass’s stature, or of slightly less importance but still revered, that are also mummified, likely not members of the common population. I have a theory based on the logical philosophy of modern Vulcan, and the way the cycles of life are regarded in the (fan authored) Kir’Shara chapter, The Thread of Life. Vulcans may actually practice a form of Sky Burial for those who are not interred with the same pomp and circumstance as the Vulcan spiritual elite. Sky Burial is a type of excarnation (removing the flesh and organs from the body before burial) practiced in Tibet on Earth, or, perhaps in addition to excarnation, Vulcans may practice cremation.

Possible Burial Styles (Fanon)

Sky Burial/Excarnation- the body is left in a chosen excarnation place (in Tibetan practice the body is taken to a mountain top, like Mt. Seleya on Vulcan) to be stripped of its flesh by natural elements, predators & carrion eaters until only the skeleton remains, which is then interred in local/familial catacombs or other burial places. This idea coming from the Logic in sustaining the ecosystems of Vulcan with the flesh that the Katra no longer has need of, the same result could come from donating one’s remains to science as well (for educational or scientific purposes), perpetuating the axiom that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one, where the need for the body no longer exists other than its natural course of consumption and decay.

Cremation- Fire and heat are no rare commodities on Vulcan, and this practice could potentially be done post excarnation or perhaps in some cases instead of. The Fire Plains are a sacred place that we see in Enterprise, and are part of Falor’s pilgrimage to seek the monks of Kir in the ballad “Falor’s Journey” (as sung by Tuvok in Voyager), I could imagine it being a sacred place of cremation. Perhaps the remains are to be cremated when the Katra is lost or released, whether excarnation still occurs prior is optional. The flames consuming the organic remains is symbolic of sending the body where the Katra has gone, disseminated into infinite oblivion.

[alternatefandom]

Death of a Deity, or, resentment of fallen gods across Mondstadt, Liyue, and Inazuma

Inazuma’s release reveals a ton of lore with it, including three major world quests that involves purifying some sort of evil so that previously-dangerous areas can become safe again. As a Xiao main, the topic of evil and resentment interests me very much, primarily because Genshin never quite explains to us what, exactly, is the evil that Xiao has to eternally struggle against, and why he has to do it for all eternity. This post is my attempt to compile everything we know about the evil that Xiao fights against, not just in Liyue, but all over the Teyvat we know.

There are seven nations in Teyvat, each ruled by their own deity. Styled as Archons, these deities won their titles two thousand years ago when they emerged as the victors of the Archon War. But even though they are worshipped as gods, they are not immortal. Archons have died and new ones have risen to take their place. Still, the death of a deity is no simple matter. From Havria, whose death unleashes a shockwave that turned her fleeing followers into salt, to the great serpent of Yashiori Island, whose death unleashes the tatarigami, we can see that the death of a deity has left their marks upon nations...

...except for Mondstadt.

But before we talk about Mondstadt, let's start with what Liyuens have to say about their fallen gods.

Liyue

We are first introduced to the concept of resentment of fallen gods in Liyue. Liyue is a bountiful and peaceful land, but it is also the site of many battlefields of yore. Many deities have met their end in this nation; some passed away peacefully, while others very much don’t.

The leftover resentment of fallen gods is a dangerous thing. Unfettered, it can poison the land, spawn monsters, and cause illness amongst mortals. In Liyue, two notable entities safeguard them against such an occasion: the guardian yakshas, who literally fight agaist the resentment, and Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, who burn bodies of the deceased to ensure that any pestilence does not spread.

In Xiao's collected miscellany, Dainsleif states that the resentment of fallen gods is something to be endured, implying that the fight against resentment is one that will go on for eternity. However, it is interesting to note that Liyue's guardian entities seem to contradict this statement. In her story quest, Hu Tao flat-out states that the 'curse of the gods' have long since been eradicated.

In his own story quest, when talking about the demon-tainted monster, Xiao says that they were tainted by Xiao's own bad karma, instead of resentment of the fallen gods.

We can see that the state of the resentment of fallen gods in Liyue right now remains unclear. Has it been eradicated, or is it still a threat? Is the evil taint in Liyue caused by resentment of fallen gods, or remnants of Xiao's accumulated karma? What will happen if Xiao dies? Will the karma he accumulated be unleashed or will it die with him? Is there anyone who will be able to take over his job? Will anyone need to? The system of resentment suppression in Liyue right now seem fragile, but could Zhongli have retired if things truly are as precarious as they seem?

Inazuma

When we get to Inazuma, we see that the resentment of fallen gods is running rampant. In Liyue, we pretty much only fight demon-tainted enemies during Xiao's story quest, but in Inazuma, they're everywhere. The people of Inazuma call this phenomenon the 'tatarigami', and unlike in Liyue, they have dedicated systems to suppress and even harness it, even though they are defunct for one reason or another.

The first notable evil-purifying system is centered on Narukami Island, at the Grand Sakura Tree. The roots of this tree is connected to the Thunder Sakura roots growing all over Narukami Island. Thunder Sakuras are capable of absorbing filth and evil from the land. However, if the tree absorbs too much filth, it will die. This is why there are barriers placed at its roots. They serve as filters that can be cleaned out every half-century or so, preventing too much filth from seeping into the Grand Sakura Tree and killing it.

Outside of Narukami Island, around Kannazuka, there are also five Thunder Sakuras growing around Mikage Furnace. We know that Thunder Sakuras can purify filth, so it makes sense for them to be planted around the Mikage Furnace. Ostensibly, they can be used to purify excessive tatarigami, keeping the area around the furnace safe for everyone.

However, according to Miyuki (the miko in the Sakura Arborism quest), the Thunder Sakuras of Kannazuka are not used to purify tatarigami. Rather, they serve to suppress ‘the one who lies beneath’; whether it is a fallen deity, a sealed one, or something else, we do not know. In fact, it is important to note that while the Thunder Sakuras can purify filth and evil, it is never explicitly stated that it can purify resentment or tatarigami. The evil and filth that the Sakura trees purify may very well be different to the resentment of fallen gods. Which makes sense; nothing in Inazuman lore suggests that any deity have unwillingly met their end at Narukami Island or Kannazuka proper.

To the west of Kannazuka, though, lies Yashiori, an island battered by the full force of the tatarigami. It comes from the remains of Orobachi, a giant serpent-god slain by the Raiden Shogun. As a defense against tatarigami, the people of Inazuma placed wards to suppress Orobachi’s soul. However, the wards are not enough to suppress the tatarigami altogether: the Kitain family, hailed as the Yashiori Guardians, are tasked with hunting down the tatarigami to keep the people safe. The lore of the Kitain Cross Spear has this to say about them: “having been a demon hunter for so long, it is unavoidable that one might imbibe some of that miasmic, tainted blood.” 

Well, doesn’t that sound familiar.

The tatarigami in Yashiori seem to be the closest account of resentment that we know from Liyue. Like in Liyue, the people of Yashiori had to resort to literally battling the tatarigami, but unlike in Liyue, they have no immortal adeptus that can bear the burden of karma for them. Eventually, due to various factors, even the Yashiori Guardians succumbed to tatarigami. What remains behind is an island ravaged by illness and natural disasters, a grim example of a society built upon the ashes of divine war with no divine being who cares enough to protect them.

Mondstadt

Unlike Liyue and Inazuma, somehow, Mondstadt does not seem to be troubled with the resentment of fallen gods. This is probably because unlike Liyue and Inazuma, Mondstadt was never the site of grand archon battles. During Decarabian's reign, Andrius kept the land frozen in a blizzard, and after Decarabian's fall, Andrius chose to pass away peacefully, using his power to nourish the land instead of leaving resentment behind. There are no accounts of other gods dying against their will in Mondstadt, save for Decarabian himself.

And yet, we do not see traces of resentment anywhere in Mondstadt, not even in the ruins of Old Mondstadt. The darkness that corrupts Dvalin comes from the Abyss, and so is the corruption of the dragon Durin. So the big burning question is, where did Decarabian's resentment go? Did he choose to pass away in peace after all? Did Venti manage to purify his resentment somehow? Does this mean that resentment can truly be purged, and if so, what does this mean for Xiao? Or are we just reading too much into the whole resentment thing?

The Solution to Tatarigami

So, if the resentment of fallen gods is something that can never be purged, what can the people of Teyvat do to protect themselves? Is burdening a divine being with pain and bad karma the only reliable way? Well, the good news is that there may be another way. From the Tatara Tales world quest, we know that tatarigami can be harnessed and even purified, to an extent. So even though a solution does not exist right now, there may very well be in the near future. There is light at the end of the tunnel for our friendly neighborhood Yaksha; one day, he may be able to follow his lord into a peaceful retirement, after all.

[notsogoodangel]

May I present to you all an idea: Chaos Incarnated Trio with an essay about their dynamic and headcanons

Before I start, I want to clarify this is an idea of Grian within the Dream SMP lore, but will make reference to some of Grian’s lore as a whole.

Drista, in the lore, it’s the Goddess of Chaos, or The Devil, and brings chaos to the server. Usually destroying buildings, ignoring rules set by Dream/XD, such as not intervening with the prison and giving illegal items connected to The End, such as shulker boxes.

Almost as importantly within Dream SMP headcanons there’s two things usually working alongside a god: an angel/messenger, think of Phil being the Angel of Death, and the goddess of Death is Kristin; and a champion. Sometimes people think that Technoblade is not the blood god himself, but works for him, as his champion, as he is the one who gives him the most tribute by killing a bunch of people in his name. Note that they are not necessarily god’s favorites people to interact. Like XD loves to hang out with George, but it’s not the same way around. This differs from Philza who literally married the Goddess of Death, so by all means, he probably has some favoritism. The same goes for Tommy. While Drista and Tommy are not always interacting whenever she is online, the 6 times she has, he most stuff happens when he is around to hang out with her, and it’s usually when the most chaotic stuff happens…. What I’m saying is that Tommy is probably Drista’s champion as he is literally one of the most chaotic people on the server and everyone in the server knows that (in a similar way that everyone know to not mess with Techno as you will probably die).

Finally, there’s Grian. Grian it’s implied to become a Watcher at some point, but I like to propose this idea: that’s just a promotion. Grian originally was a messenger of chaos, as he is, like Drista and Tommy, it’s described and depicted as “a gremlin, chaotic child” despite being old in both out and inside canon. While angels usually just give messages, they usually tend to reflect some trait of the god they are a messenger for. Again, Philza it’s the Angel of Death, what is his first action of DSMP? Bring Death to his son, and his most notorious thing he has done is, both dying in Hardcore worlds and living forever. Grian bring chaos to whenever he goes, for himself and for others. Part of me thinks the reason why he hasn’t being killed and put in red in Last Life it’s because the participants believe if they do that, they will unleash a   chaotic monster. Like, he didn’t need to be in red in 3rd Life to cause chaos. Beside, he just generally steals and causes problems in the more pacifist server he is in: Hermitcraft.  

Another thing I have noticed is that they are all depicted as very young. Like Grian is older than a lot of the people in the Hermitcraft server, yet he is always depicted as a child, or at least very young, even younger than people who are younger than him IRL, and I’m not just referring to Mumbo here that guy always was an old soul. While Tommy it’s the youngest in the Dream SMP, and everyone knows him, none of the older minors/children in the server get called a child as much as him and once again, people usually draw him as if he was younger than he is. Drista, she is 14 in real life, and that idea of her being so young IRL influences the depictions of her of looking like a child, despite being a literal god that is possibly older than most people in the DSMP, I only say most because how old is Techno and Phil???

All I’m getting at, the chaos incarnated maybe more literally than we think, but only because Drista is literally chaos incarnated in the Dream SMP, Grian being the perfect person to deliver it and Tommy was just chosen to be her champion. Probably even more because canonically Tommy and Dream hate each other, and Drista loves to annoy Dream whenever she can and sending someone who doesn’t listen to him would be the fucking best.

Also, don’t let them be in the same room, just Drista and Tommy are enough, they don’t need someone who knows how to actually play Minecraft.