#this is another episode of 'pan is tired of constant shipping' so if you know that's gonna bug you - scroll by!

[panharmonium]

I like good romantic pairings as much as anyone else but lbr viewing media solely thru the lens of “shipping” is rly reductive, so I appreciate ur view on romance not being a priority in merlin. Like, I’ve seen too many posts abt Merlin mocking Arthur at their first meeting w ppl saying things like “that is not a straight thing to say 👀” Guys. You’re missing the point, which is that Merlin is brave and cheeky and rn Arthur is a bully. It’s a good moment, but an obsession w shipping ruins it yk?

god, yes.  thank you.

i'm putting the rest of this under a cut just because i know for a lot of people the above kind of fandom experience is fun, and i'm not here to harsh anyone's vibe.  i'm glad that people are able to enjoy fandom in their own way, and me talking about my own preferences does not mean i think anyone else should change what they're doing.  i am comfortable curating my own fandom experience to suit my needs - @ everyone else, please continue to do your thing and have fun with it!

I’ve seen too many posts abt Merlin mocking Arthur at their first meeting w ppl saying things like “that is not a straight thing to say” 

YES.  this is my least favorite shipping-related trend ever.  

it's not just that scene.  it's every single moment in the show (and not just between merlin and arthur, either).  every possible interaction gets pulled out and twisted to be about how in love two characters must be, when the actual point is Clearly Not That, and it's exhausting.  i know other people find it fun, and i'm glad they're having fun, but for me, it's exhausting.

for a show where the main character canonically demonstrates virtually zero interest in romantic attachment, it's really...difficult for me sometimes to fully immerse myself in this fandom, because almost all of the fannish content is about shipping merlin with arthur.  and if you don't think arthur is good enough for merlin (valid lol), you ship him with gwaine, or somebody else who you think would treat him better.  merlin without a love interest - the merlin i know from canon - is so hard for me to find.  i don’t really see him anywhere.

(also, to clarify: the PEOPLE in this fandom are fantastic.  everyone I've encountered in my limited experience has been beyond lovely; and pretty much everyone I've met has always seemed totally warm and welcoming of various ships and opinions, which obviously isn't something you find in every fandom, so in that sense, my experience with the merlin fandom has been consistently awesome.  what i'm musing about now isn't individual shippers or their preferences; it's about the overarching content-related experience of being a non-shipper in a fandom where, content-wise, shipping is The Main Thing To Do.)

and of course, this isn't just a merlin fandom trend.  this is the way things have been done in every fandom i've ever been involved in.  every single interaction between two characters always ends up getting pulled out and viewed through a shipping lens, and suddenly everything about the characters as individuals is made to be about the relationship.  EVERYTHING.  things that very clearly have actual, non-romantic explanations get taken out of their context and framed as "they're in LOVE."

and again, as I said before - there's nothing inherently wrong with that, and if people have fun with it, good!  that's what fandom is for.  but it's not my jam, and it can be a bit frustrating sometimes, because a) it’s a reductive analysis, like you said, and b) as someone who is deeply invested in all the friendships on this show, i'm not sure what the institution of friendship is even supposed to look like in this fandom.  does it actually exist?  because a character can't do anything even remotely kind without immediately having it captioned "they're so in love" or "today in totally platonic things, winkwink nudgenudge"

like

what tiny smidgen of caring is small enough to fall under the category of friendship?  how cold and unfeeling do characters have to be with each other for their interactions to qualify as friendship?  literally everything that happens in merlin bbc is, in fact, a product of the love merlin feels for his friends, and nothing about that fact was ever difficult for me to believe while i was watching the show, but once i got out into the wider fandom, it was like that just wasn’t possible.  nobody would do these things for "just" friends.  nobody would be that gentle or caring or loving with "just" friends.  nobody would look at "just" friends like that.  nobody would grieve for “just” friends like that.

to borrow a phrase from one of george lucas's discussions about a different media issue - "i don't like that and i don't believe that."

nothing about that philosophy is interesting to me, or remotely realistic.  and i don’t necessarily think it’s what shipping as an institution is actively trying to communicate, but it is still what’s actually being said in those kind of *wink wink, nudge nudge* posts.

[it’s worth noting also that the *wink wink, nudge nudge*, “every little thing is romantic” lens only applies when people want it to.  i see a lot of the following two modes in the merlin fandom: when it comes to merlin/arthur, fanon interpretation of the show is twisted to make every single one of their interactions serve as evidence for an imaginary romance, but when it comes to arthur and gwen's actual, demonstrated romantic attraction for each other, fandom twists everything the opposite way.  i constantly see posts that are like "i think arthur and gwen loved each other, but they weren't IN love" - uh-huh.  ok.  convenient, that.  suddenly we’ve lost the ability to perceive romance in every single innocuous gesture?  apparently we can fabricate romance out of two people blinking at each other, but only when the relationship in question is a pretend pairing we wish was real.  otherwise, the canonical romance and all of its attendant acts of devotion just don’t register.]

and you know, it's whatever.  i've been involved in fandom long enough to know that this kind of shipping is just how things always go, and i’m happy enough keeping to my own area and trying to curate my fandom experience in a way that brings me the most enjoyment.  but i 100% feel you on ubiquitous shipping goggles being a difficult thing to constantly navigate.  

#fandom #replies #the once and future slowburn #this is another episode of 'pan is tired of constant shipping' so if you know that's gonna bug you - scroll by! #<< fair warning has been given and the read-more has been applied #that's as much as i can do

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Tell Me You Hate Me

Summary:   Story contains some intense intrusive thoughts, please mind the tags. Remus always has episodes where his emotions seem to completely shut down, leaving nothing but thoughts pounding in his skull begging for a reaction. When he finally breaks down, Logan is there to hold him together.

Warnings: intrusive thought, implied self bruising, depictions of violence and death, hurt with comfort, mild swearing

Ships: Logan x Remus, Intrulogical

WC: 3, 602

General Taglist: (ask to be tagged generally or in specific writing.) @im-an-anxious-wreck

Remus huffed as he flopped over to his other side yet again, kicking his feet out from underneath them and burying his face into his pillow. Finding it still too hot he quickly picked his head up and flipped the pillow to the cooler side, flopping face first this time as he fought to quiet his groan. Squeezing his eyes shut tight did nothing unfortunately and neither did leaving indents in his palms from his fingernails. Flopping over onto his back he tried taking deep, calming breaths- something Virgil had said sometimes helped them sleep- but he gave up after a few minutes. Shadows from the corners of his room licked at the edge of the safety of his bed and a spike of anxiety in his chest forced his feet back under the covers. A stupid false sense of security that died along with the anxiety as quickly as it had made itself known. The dull buzz of his fan did nothing to drown the ringing in his ears and he wiggled a bit to get the sheets unstuck from his back as his newest position began to get uncomfortable.

He closed his eyes again and sighed deeply before throwing the blankets to the floor and hurrying to the light switch to flick it on. Eyes still shut he stumbled into the hallway running his hand along the wall for a sense of direction wanting nothing more but a spike of caffeine to jump start the day. He left the kitchen light off since he didn't actually know how early it was and didn't want to wake Logan, instead holding his hand out and shuffling forward until his toe stubbed the bottom of the cabinets. Swearing he placed his hands on the counter and felt around until he found the coffee pot, finally deciding to open his eyes to the dim room so he didn't end up smashing the pot and getting glass in his feet...again. Filling it with water and grounds was simple enough, the routine so ingrained he had to force himself to actually concentrate on the action instead of drifting off into his own head again.

Briefly he thought about wedging his head under the spout and letting the freshly brewed coffee flow down his throat but he decided he liked the new creamer they had gotten too much to attempt that this time. Idly picking at his fingertips while he waited he glanced out the window of the shared apartment and wondered how hard it would be to climb down the building from there. Realistically he could do it- just squat in the sink and back up as carefully as he could to find footholds and balance. The thought of neighbors seeing a random ass sticking out of a window, wiggling as he got into a better position brought a flicker of a grin to his face, but the thought of then someone calling the police to report a break-in and the subsequential argument hed most likely have with Logan over his reasoning it had seemed like a good idea made him dismiss the thought immediately. Things were already on the rockier side with his husband, he didn't need something else making him regret he had ever proposed to Remus.

Things weren't at all bad in their marriage, new as it was and with as small of a space they shared. Remus just went through moods- quiet ones where he was mostly lost in his head and didn't want to make things tense by finding his way out of it. Moods where everything was exhausting, even engaging in activities with someone he loved more than anything else in the world seemed dull and tiring. He'd never tell Logan that, never even think about hurting him that badly, but sometimes he got so tired it was all he could do to get out of bed. And now his emotions were broken again and that certainly didn't help anything.

It didn't happen often, but every once in a while for whatever reason his brain had thought of, he couldn't feel anything. Not even sadness. Smiles were hard, crying was harder, brief spikes of anxiety died before he could think about them and anger or irritation which he usually relied on in these states were so far away he couldn't even think of what to do to make them appear. His world was dull and heavy and numb, pressing in from all sides in a way that would have been overwhelming if he could care to put any name to it. Instead he grew quiet, filing away thoughts and feelings to deal with when he could actually grasp them. Logan noticed; of course he did he noticed everything. Usually all Remus really needed was space and a little time to get his bearings. He would stay in bed a lot, even if he didn't manage to sleep, and watch youtube videos at random for hours on end until Logan came in with water or food or a reminder to get up and stretch. Remus would get up stiffly and stretch for a moment, maybe go to the bathroom, eat, drink and then go right back to curl as tight as he could under the blankets to blankly stare at the screen. He'd hear a soft sigh and feel fingers run gently through his tangled hair before the door would shut once again and he'd be left alone to his nothing and cold and numb and thoughts.

The thoughts were the worst even if he didn’t attach anything to them. Constant and intrusive and violent as they were they didn't even make him afraid anymore. It often seemed, in whatever fucked up process his brain had made up, that if his emotions shut down the intrusive thoughts needed to step up to compensate. Usually nothing more than a suggestive buzz in the background he had long ago learned to simply brush off they became a battering ram against the inside of his skull that he had to actively reason his way through to stop the twitch in his muscles. Boiling water for tea became sticking his hands in his pocket so he didn't stick it in the pan to watch burn and stick to the bottom, flesh pulling like hot cheese until it snapped away from his muscles and left his blood to be boiled by the heat. The want to tip his chair back became his teeth frigging as a graphic image of his head cracked open like an egg and leaking through the carpet presented itself to him like a proud child with macaroni art. A constant barrage of images and impulses that left him exhausted rather than disturbed and made him simply want to sleep them all away, which of course was when the insomnia kicked in and left him making coffee at- his eyes snapped to the oven clock and he sighed tiredly- 4:30 on the morning.

Thanking whatever gods were real it was a Saturday morning he brought down a mug and filled it with coffee and an obscene amount of creamer, chugging it in seconds and ignoring the sickly sweet taste before getting a refill and shambling to the couch to turn on the news. The news always had something going on lately and he was hoping it would be enough to distract from the thoughts of smashing his head through the glass coffee table or making another pot of coffee to chug through. Granted the latter was the better option of the two should he make it a choice but he knew his limit with caffeine and wasn't keen on his heart thumping in his chest throughout the day when he had no energy to do anything with the fake adrenaline rush.

"Remus?" The man winced as he heard Logan's sleepy voice in the hallway and turned to see him walking to the couch, face pinched in concern. "Are you alright? It's nearly five in the morning."

Running his dry tongue over even drier lips Remus nodded. "I uh- I was gonna go on a run today. Get out of the house you know- and I thought an early start might be good."

Logan studied his face carefully, though thankfully not seeming to notice the deep bruises under his eyes in the shifting light of the tv. Remus offered a weak smile and gripped his mug tighter, firmly dismissing the thought to smash it over Logan's head while Logan stepped back and nodded tiredly.

"I'm going to sleep for a bit longer. Please be careful Remus, I love you."

"Love you too, Logan." Remus turned away before he could see any more puty in Logan's eyes, anger licking up from his stomach but he simply clutched his mug to dissipate it before it could take hold, not that it really could. He listened as the footsteps died and the others door was shut, bringing the mug up and chugging the rest of it. Groaning slightly he realized he'd actually have to go out now, he couldn't lie to Logan anymore than he already had. Screwing his mouth to one side he decided biking would be easier. More chances to simply coast and he could wear his headphones without risk of his phone bouncing out of his pocket. Figuring he may as well go now rather than wait, since if he did he was sure he'd simply go back to curl up in bed, he quickly tidied up the kitchen and went to throw some clothes and a helmet on. Tugging his bike out of the hall closet he found himself on the street without quite remembering how he'd gotten there but in the end he supposed it didn't matter. This early in the morning there was virtually no one on the sidewalks giving him ample space to go as fast as he wanted down the hill. Hed ride back up the hill on his way back so he'd get some actual exercise to make up for just coasting for about a quarter mile later.

The wind was on his face before he even registered he had started heartbeat picking up slightly as the buildings on his right began to whip past faster and faster. He contemplated breaking a bit to slow down but his thoughts suddenly demanding he do a hard break, making him flip over the handlebars and skid into the road made him dismiss it quickly. Hed slow down eventually and he was fine for now. The streets were quiet and dark, the air was cool but the wind was so cold it felt like needles against his face. He probably should have worn at least a jacket from the way his arms were going numb but dismissing it was so much easier than thinking about how tiring it would be to turn around, go all the way back to his building, back up the stairs and into his room to get a jacket and gloves- and by that time he'd just went to stay in bed anyway since that would be closer so there really wasn't any point. The fold felt nice, it as waking him up along with the coffee and his heart was thumping loudly in his ears drowning out any thoughts that might slip through and his hands were gripping the handle bars so tight his cold knuckles were a stark white-

Instinct swerved his bike and slammed the breaks before he even noticed the truck speeding down the road. The driver didn't even acknowledge him as his hands slipped off the handle bars and his vision grew spotty. The sudden panic felt distant, dull and unimportant even as his breathing sped up and a thought rose up that told him he could have died: images of his cold body splayed in front of a sideways truck slammed it's way through to the front of his mind, blood pooled around the driver’s feet as his panicked voice called for help. Distantly Logan's screams could be heard as footsteps ran to his unresponsive body and everything was simply white and static and cold. The sound of another car's horn snapped him back to himself suddenly, looking around in confusion as he saw how light it had gotten and the quiet streets now coming to life with people Getting off night shift or waking up for their morning shift or running to coffee shops. His sweat soaked hands were nearly frozen on the handlebars and when he tried moving his legs he felt like he was trying to tread through a thick vat of glue that threatened to pull him down and under the second he decided to stop fighting. 

As much as he wanted nothing more than to collapse and hope something on his bike punctured a lung on the way down though he simply turned and started back up the hill towards home. He didn’t know how long he had been standing on the sidewalk but he judged it to have been an hour at least with how bright  the sky was now. Hopefully Lgan hadn’t worried too much, the thought bringing a wave of guilt that nearly drove him to his knees with the fierceness with which it crashed onto him but just like with everything else it disappeared almost as quickly as it decided to present itself and Remus was left to simply stare blankly at the concrete before him as his stiff legs took him to Logan step by mind numbing step. He just had to make it to Logan. Logan would know what to do, what to say; Remus knew all he ever had to do was ask. Logan was getting better at asking whenever he needed help so the least Remus could do was show that same courtesy.

 But then- what if he didn’t understand? What if he couldn’t? What if he thought Remus was just crazy or having a mental break or because he couldn’t feel things sometimes Logan thought that meant he didn’t love him anymore? What if he decided to leave? What if he left and Remus was alone with only his thoughts and the cold and-

“Remus?” He snapped his head up at Logan’s voice, a quick brush of panic curling around him as he saw that he was back in the apartment with again no recollection of walking the rest of the way up the block and up the stairs and through the door. Logan was looking at him, that same pitying concern wrinkling his face as he stood in front of Remus with a mug of black coffee held tightly in one hand while the other reached out to him gently. And Remus, with the overwhelming feeling of nothing, nothing, nothing and still frantically beating heart with wild eyes full of tears that hadn’t fallen in a week, couldn’t think of what to say to make anything better for either of them. So he did what he did best.

“Tell me you hate me.” The words blurted out with his characteristic impulsiveness as Logan’s eyes blew wide and he only briefly registered his own surprise before the world turned gray again. Of course, the most painful thing for him to hear is what he wanted. No amount of horror movie jump scares or gore, of late night metal blasting at full volume through his ears, pf slamming his fists repeatedly into his thighs until he could barely walk the next day would be as painful as having someone he had cared about more than anyone else for six years now telling him that they hated him. That they couldn’t stand him because he was useless and unfeeling and so, so stupid to even think someone like them could love someone like him. He needed to hear the words he knew Logan was probably itching for permission to say, and now that he had it he could go all out, and maybe then something could get through his constant swirl of thoughts.

“Please I can’t- I’m so numb Logan. I haven’t felt anything in a week I just need- this is your chance to lay it all out.” Logan considered  him carefully before reaching ver and setting his coffee down on the counter and stepping towards him. Gently, so gently it almost hurt, Logan took both of his hands and tugged, walking backward and around until he could sit them both down on the couch. Squeezing his hands slightly he took them away only to place them gently on with side of Remus’ face and hold him as if he was made of fragile porcelain, thumbs caressing his cheekbones in a steady rhythm that had his heart finally calming down and body relaxing into the touch.

“I love you.”

Remus’ breath caught as he locked eyes with his husband, who was simply smiling gently as him with the same loving look he had been giving him for years. Pressure built behind his eyes suddenly and he widened them to keep it at bay, shaking his head in defiance.

“You are safe. Whatever you’re feeling or not feeling is perfectly alright. You are with your husband who cares for you very much in the apartment we’ve shared for four years. You haven’t been sleeping well which may be contributing to your mental distress but that’s okay too because we can work on fixing that. I could never tell you that I hate you.  Love you more than anything, Remus.”

Remus wasn’t sure why that’s what finally broke him, but the flood of emotions that crashed over him barely gave him time to breath before he gasped out a sob and smashed his face into Logan’s chest. Steady arms wrapped around him in a tight, comforting embrace as his legs were brought over his lap, essentially making Logan cardle him like a child but Remus couldn’t bring himself to care as he gasped and shuddered out weeks worth of pent up emotions that he was just now able to feel and it was too much, too much, too much all at once. His hands came up too fist in Logan’s shirt and snot ran freely down his face and his throat began to ache form the noises desperately escaping his throat. This was too much at once, he couldn’t handle this much at once.

But all the way through it Logan rocked them back and forth, hugging him tightly and whispering how much he was loved and cared for and how much better his life was with Remus in it even if he did leave the cabinet doors open and hog the blankets when they shared a bed. Careful fingers carded through his hair as he was told that it was okay to cry, it was okay to not feel anything or to feel everything and Logan would be there regardless. Logan would be there for him through everything Remus needed as long as Remus needed him for. The rocking and whispering didn’t stop until Remus pulled away, a little ashamed and embarrassed with snot covering his face and hiccups preventing him from saying anything but it was okay because Logan only smiled as him and laid a hand on his cheek before getting up and telling him He’d be right back.

It was only a few seconds before he was back with a cool washcloth pressed to his face, carefully wiping his sore, red eyes and rubbing gently as his cheeks and nose. It ws cool and refreshing and instantly Remus felt better than he had in weeks. His wild curls were brushed out of his face and a kiss was pressed to his forehead before Logan made to leave again, making Remus let out a pathetic whine in protest.

“I’m only going to the kitchen to get you water, Remus. Did you want to come with me?”

As ridiculous as it was, he did. So he slipped his hand into Logan’s and followed him out to the small kitchen, watching as he awkwardly poured a glass of water from the fridge one handed and passed it to Remus who downed it in five seconds and handed it back sheepishly. Receiving only an encouraging smile in return the glass was filled once again before he was tugged back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Logan turned to him and squeezed his hand gently. Always so gently and lovingly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Remus knew they would have to eventually but he was so tired. Not the kind of tired he had been where everything was exhausting and irritating and just on the side of too much, but the kind of bone tired you can only be after having an emotional breakdown in your husband's arms at eight o’clock in the morning after only getting two hours of sleep the night before. So he shook his head, hoping against all odds Logan could read minds and understand.

To Logan’s credit he picked up that it was something best addressed at a later time, simply nodding again and reaching for the remote. “How about a movie instead then? As a distraction?”

Smiling a tired but genuine smile, Remus nodded and curled up into Logan’s side, eyes slipping shut before he could even see what Logan had picked. But that was fine. The volume was low and Logan’s arm came to wrap around Remus’ shoulder as he drifted off peacefully. He was safe and loved and right now, that was all that mattered.

 I promise I write happy things sometimes XD As always, this work is available with other on AO3!

If you like this, please consider reblogging. Sharing works helps creators.

#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #remus sanders #logan sanders #tw ts intrusive thoughts #implied self bruising #tw self harm #tw violence #tw gore #very self indulgent #intrulogical

[hisakata-resutomoshibi]

Part two to this post that no one asked for-

There are smiles of Mikuni's that remind Jeje of someone, though he can not quite place who that someone is.

These are the ones that are most meaningful, the ones that Mikuni lets show unfiltered, un-tempered with hidden plans or ulterior motive; a purely honest smile that reaches from the corners of his gently curved lips up to his eyes, melting them from cold steel to sun warmed gold. They are Jeje's favorites, even though he could probably count the number of times he's seen them in the years they've been together on just two hands.

There were other things about Mikuni that rang familiar, like a church bell in the foggy morning, but Jeje didn't like to think too deeply about things like that. The past was best left where it was for unchangeable things would only ever bring stasis and suffering to the soul. All of this would run occasionally through his mind, incorporeal, idle musings that held no sway over his mood, and he would let them, carefully keeping his distance until they had once more passed. It remained this way until one morning when he glanced towards the kitchen doorway after hearing Mikuni give a frustrated shout.

"Damn it!" He yelled once more for good measure, staring down at the pancake he had been attempting to catch in the pan, and missed by a good three feet, sending batter splattering across the floor.

Jeje turned back to his ship, hiding the tiny smile that hovered over his lips. He had warned him that it was more difficult than it looked.

"What do you say we just skip the pancakes?" Mikuni asked boisterously, coming to lean in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched Jeje work. "And call a maid service."

Still fighting the telltale look of amusement, Jeje kept his head down, back bent over the miniature, and Mikuni huffed in annoyance. When, after seven stitches along the sail, he still hadn't returned to the kitchen, Jeje sighed and finally glanced back at him. "I'm not hungry."

"You're never hungry!" Mikuni accused, throwing his hands up. "Well, I need coffee at least." But he made no move to turn back and instead his eyes shifted to the small sail held so carefully in Jeje's hand and he grinned, that snarky, unwelcome grin that Jeje found so grating. "So, what's with the tiny boats anyway?"

He asked it as a slight, as a harmless poke at Jeje as he was so wont to do whenever he was feeling inadequate or embarrassed and normally Jeje let these roll off his back, forgiving the youth their ignorance, but something about the question was sharp and quick. It took aim and hit a memory that Jeje had not even known he had lost. As he sat, staring unseeingly at Mikuni, he felt the small needle and canvas square fall from his hands, and Mikuni's gaze shifted from teasing to a curious worry as he watched but Jeje could not find his tongue to redirect the situation.

A name had hit him with the force of a bullet. A soft, lilting name that he had not said or heard in over four centuries.

Matteo.

Matteo had taught him the infuriating art of bottling ships.

All at once, as though it had been a floodgate that had suddenly been thrown open, everything that had been repressed came flowing back, drowning him in the fear and rage and hurt again. So heavy and loud were the waves of emotion that it was several times before he heard Mikuni call his name and when he finally pulled himself back up, resurfaced from beneath the crushing weight of failure and regret, it was to find Mikuni crouched in front of him, brows twisted in unease, hands resting on his stiff shoulders.

"Are you ok?"

If he had been any more in his right mind, Jeje would have found it absolutely staggering to hear such a simple, caring question directed at him, but as it was, he was not capable of thought, and so he merely stared blankly back into the wild golden eyes and tried to decide if he was actually going to throw up.

With all the force of will left in his body he managed finally to breath a weak "yeah" and then could only pray Mikuni would lose interest, his ever busy mind discarding the experience as inconsequential. At first it seemed that Mikuni was going to ask another question, try to dig deeper into the newly unearthed, bloody remains of Jeje's sanity, but after a moment his eyes darted away, back towards the kitchen, and he stood, letting his hands fall from where they rested.

"Get ready to go. I wanna go into town for a cappuccino."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fresh morning air was welcome and helped to clear his head. 

It was rather sunny and so he had finally given up the effort and simply wrapped himself around Mikuni's neck as he so often did, secretly reveling in the warmth. Mikuni's endless chatter also helped to soothe him and soon enough he was dozing off, having learned long ago that listening to anything Mikuni said with any amount of concentration was pointless. It was better to just get the gist, check out, and then when prompted, respond affirmatively.

Times like this, times without subterfuge and scheming and fighting were his favorite and Jeje always tried to keep the feeling of them bundled up tightly and safely where he could access it again later. He grew so tired of the constant warring, and, if he were being honest, a content, safe Mikuni was far better than a frigid, angered one. This Mikuni, like the one that made pancakes sometimes and liked lavender scented candles and would play solitaire and drink coffee all morning, was softer and gentler, less likely to poke and prod and be generally annoying. It was definitely Jeje's favorite version, but he was so very unusual to see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed that Mikuni had taken more note of Jeje's strange episode than he had let on for it soon became apparent that he was suggesting more and more early morning walks with badly concealed concern, his tone light and fake as he insisted that the coffee shop downtown was better and he just simply couldn't bare to have anything else.

"You are so dramatic." Jeje sighed finally, standing in defeat and tucking the small book he had been reading back into his pocket. "Let's go."

"What is that?" Mikuni asked, his eyes tracking the movement of Jeje's hands as he retied the cinch at his waist.

"What is what?"

"That little book."

Jeje hesitated, it was rare for Mikuni to show any interest in anything Jeje did at all aside from the occasional mad inquiry, and when he found genuine interest in Mikuni's expression, he gave in and pulled the book free once more. Holding it out for Mikuni to take, he started towards the door. "I'll tell you on the way."

It wasn't until several blocks later that he finally began to explain, glancing over and watching as Mikuni browsed the first few pages of the little directory. "It is a book of-"

"Names!" Mikuni interrupted, eyes still glued to the tiny text. "But they're odd."

"They are predominantly Italian." When Mikuni only raised a brow in question, he continued. "Genealogies of Vatican City, and any related diocese."

"Uh huh." Mikuni hummed skeptically. "And why are you reading this? Is this what your little errand was the other day? You went to the library?"

Jeje did not dignify this with a response, deciding he had said enough. There was no need to explain that he had been- was- desperately scouring any and all census sheets, service rosters, anything he could find, for the name Matteo Rossi. It wasn't anything he wanted to explain even if he could figure out a way to. But Mikuni was clever, dangerously so, and soon he was watching Jeje, the book still clutched in his hands.

"Who are you looking for?"

Closing his eyes, Jeje sighed. It was no use trying to keep anything from Mikuni, he knew this, had relied until now on his inherent disinterest in anything about him to protect him from prying eyes, but as was always the case with such a troublesome man, he had decided at exactly the wrong time to become invested. "A man I used to know."

A strange emotion passed over Mikuni's face, one that Jeje could not quite place, as though he were painfully curious but angry, and he flipped the book closed, handing it back. "How typical." When Jeje did not answer, he pointed out over the street. "That's the shop I'm trying today, come on."

The sky had been over cast when they left and was still obligingly dark and so it was that Jeje was following along on his own two feet today. When he had just stepped up to the curb across the street he heard it- the soft, musical voice of someone speaking quick, fluent Italian. It struck some secret place deep in his mind and without thinking he froze, eyes searching the crowd, somehow knowing, feeling it in his gut that- yes- just in front of them, sitting in the cozy little veranda chairs of the very coffee shop that Mikuni had set his heart on, were two men. Each was dressed in long black robes, the telltale vestments laid carefully over their shoulders- Jeje would know the look anywhere- with steaming mugs of drink clutched in their hands, but it wasn't the dress of the men that caught his eye, but the shining autumn brown of the youngers hair, soft and constant looking as though he had just stepped from out of a summer storm.

In a daze, Jeje found himself walking towards the table where the men sat, unsure why he was even approaching. When he came to rest at the very edge of their table, both glanced quizzically up at him and he was suddenly terrified. They could not see his face, and it would not matter if they could or not either way surely, but what of his soul? Could they sense it? None had ever before but that had been years, centuries, ago.

"Is there something we can help you with?" The younger one asked brightly, smiling. The other man threw him a vaguely disgruntled look and Jeje could have laughed. 

Of course. Matteo always was a bleeding heart.

Jeje felt Mikuni's curiosity pull at him through the contract, sharp and impatient, but he ignored it, and for the first time in all the recent years, spoke without the use of the illusionary magic of his curse, the words fitting like a glove on his tongue, a language he had never thought to need again. “No. I’m sorry, Father.”

"Ah! It is always so nice to hear a familiar language, no?" He responded in Italian as well now and Jeje felt the eons slide away, leaving him oddly bereft and exposed.

Mikuni's curiosity had spiked, tinted now with an almost violent irritation, when he had failed to understand what Jeje had said and, fearlessly, he barged suddenly forward, putting himself too closely to Jeje's elbow, staring down at the men. "Who is this?"

At his words, the young mans brows rose in subtle amusement and he once more smiled. "I am Father Matthias." He said, holding out a hand.

Jeje had never been more tempted to shoot Mikuni on the spot then when he merely snorted, arms crossed defiantly across his chest and refused the offer. To his credit, Matthias seemed unfazed by this and after a moment glanced at Jeje and extended the same hand. It was with great trepidation, nay, an almost debilitating hesitation, that he finally reached out and clasped it in his own.

It was like any other hand, warm and smooth; there was no shock, no angry gods lightning strike, just a simple handshake. Unsure if he was disappointed or relieved, he withdrew his and swallowed nervously. Why had he approached these men? What did he hope to accomplish? This was not truly Matteo, and never would be. There had been no spark of recognition in his soft brown eyes, no sudden flash of memory or past life. He should not have come over here. He should walk away right now, spare himself the anguish and the tangible building of Mikuni's wrath. He should-

"Why don't you have a seat?" Matthias asked, gesturing to the two empty seats at the table. "We just got here and like I said, it's always nice to hear the mother tongue!"

He sat down, not thinking, acting on impulse, and behind him heard Mikuni make a strangled noise of outrage. Not bothering to wonder if he would throw a fit and run away or not, he turned towards the other man and held out his hand.  "It's a pleasure to meet you."

After staring at him for a moment, he put out his hand as well, meeting him in the middle, wrapping calloused, short fingers over his. "Father Angelo."

Matthias clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "You're always so dour!"

Jeje's heart, already beating at an irregular, surely unhealthy, tempo, sped up and he barely kept the gasp building in his chest from breaking free and falling garishly on the table in front of everyone. Hands clamped unseen on his thighs, he bit his tongue until he tasted blood and struggled to stay afloat.

"So what are you two supposed to be?" Mikuni asked suddenly, apparently having decided that his curiosity outweighed his annoyance. Leaning forward on the table, arms crossed, he tipped his head to indicate the deep purple stole that lay over their shoulders. "Priests?"

"Obviously." Jeje muttered under his breath, earning a kick to his ankle from Mikuni who continued to smile predacious-ly across the table.

"Correct!" Matthias said, pointing down at his robes.

"We're exorcists." Angelo then cut in, watching Mikuni as though waiting for a specific reaction.

He had feared it. In seeing the collars and rosaries, Jeje had come to the conclusion that they must be so, but had held out a vain hope, a desperate plea, that he was wrong, had simply forgotten even more than he originally thought he had lost to the sands of time. It had been a surprise to find that, when he had met those familiar warm, kind eyes, he had felt no anger, no hatred or loathing, just a simple yearning and pitiful nostalgia. Now, sneaking a look at Matthias as he leaned forward, immune to Mikuni's prickly aura, to explain their reason for being here, Jeje realized that he also was not shocked that, in a world such as this, where he could be ripped from the mortal plain so easily, where werewolves and demons and vampires were real, he did not find it at all hard to believe that reincarnation was also a fact of life.

"So tell me!" Matthias turned to Jeje, expression open and friendly. "Your pronunciation is beautiful! Where did you grow up?"

"Ah. I was from... Vatican City." He stumbled over the name, distracted by the increasingly interested looks Mikuni was giving him; no doubt he would be paying for this when they got home. Throwing caution to the winds, he continued, trying to keep his voice audible despite his nerves. "I studied. In the seminary. There."

"You don't say!" Matthias exclaimed, grinning. "What stopped you?"

Still studiously ignoring Mikuni's quiet, varying sounds of surprise, he hesitated, chest tight. "I was- not suited to the calling."

His eyes softening in compassion, Matthias laid a hand on Jeje's arm where it rested on the table. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. We all have different fates. There are many ways to answer Him."

Jeje was staring down at the hand, the gentle fingers and pale expanse of skin, just as freckled as his face, and it was only when Mikuni subtly dug a boot into his ankle that he tore his eyes away. Feeling his face heat and for just a moment forgetting that they could not see it, he ducked his head down. "That may be true, yes." He managed to murmur. Matthias withdrew his hand slowly, looking curious but didn't say anything, and it was, strangely, Mikuni who broke the ensuing silence.

"As I'm sure you've both surmised, I am not from Italy. But I am interested- tell me, how does one go about becoming a priest?" He was staring hard at Angelo, singling him out to answer and leaving Matthias free, amused and trying not to laugh, to turn to Jeje once more.

Still grinning, he shrugged to indicate that he had no intentions of rescuing Angelo from Mikuni's rabid questioning and instead leaned over, pointing at the bag over Jeje's head. "Forgive me, as you've already seen I have a tendency to stick my foot in my mouth-" He laughed and Jeje almost gave himself away, almost let slip a wistful "I know", and then continued. "But I wanted to ask. Why do you have that on?"

A hand reaching up unconsciously to pat lightly at the brown pressed pulp, Jeje bit his lip. What kind of explanation even made sense? He couldn't possibly claim he was embarrassed, what kind of human wore a paper bag over their head anyway? Mikuni sure made fun of it often enough. But the truth, that he was ashamed, that his heart fluttered in panic at the very thought of anyone that had ever known him seeing his face after he had become this monstrous betrayal to his every faith and belief, was no more an option than saying he simply liked it. All of a sudden he realized it had taken him too long to answer and Matthias' brow was creasing in worry and before Jeje could stop himself, just wanting to wipe the anxious look from his face, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. "My eyes. They're... frightening."

"Is that all?!" Matthias exclaimed. "My friend, you have nothing to fear here. I have seen all you can imagine. Why don't you remove it? Just for the rest of our lunch?"

Never would he have dreamed of doing it, never would he have allowed himself the foolish indulgence, but he wasn't given the choice. Like an unexpected flash of lightning, Mikuni reached over and, pinching the very corner of the bag carefully between his fingers, whipped it off. As his hair fluttered down and free across his shoulders, Jeje turned to stare accusingly at Mikuni, the sudden anger he felt frightening, but froze when he was met with a somber, sparkling gold gaze. Without a word, Mikuni gently folded the bag up and laid it on the table, placing his arm securely over it, and looked back to Angelo, expression bland as though he had never looked away.

"It seems your companion doesn't think you need it either." Matthias said brightly when Jeje had finally found the courage to glance over.

"Either?"

"I don't see anything strange." He said levelly, eyes wide in sincerity as they looked straight into Jeje's red ones. "Now, with the fresh air, what do you say we get something warm? I've always found stew to be a good outdoor food."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It would seem strange to Jeje for the rest of his existence that Matthias had not said anything, not mentioned the devil in his eyes or the unnatural pallor to his skin, but it was something that, like all the other somethings, he preferred not to think about. A simple memory that could warm or chill depending on the lens it was viewed through. Now, months, years, centuries later, glancing over and finding Mikuni perched beside him on the couch, tongue between his teeth as he tried, enraged, to fit the sail he had sewn through the neck of the bottle, he thought that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"You must fol-"

"I know already!" Mikuni snapped, almost dropping his hold on the tweezers. "You've told me! Why do you do this?! It's infuriating!"

"It was a comfort."

Lowering the bottle and peering over, Mikuni hummed thoughtfully. "A comfort from what?"

The question surprised Jeje, still so unlike Mikuni it was to ask, and so he didn't think before he answered. "From the fear and tedium."

"Fear of God?"

Unsure if it was jest or genuine, Jeje merely sighed, looking away, out the bay window to the porch over which he could see the afternoon sun sinking lower and lower, towards the horizon line of the new city they had found. "Fear of failure."

"How could you fail?"

Hiding the small smirk as it crossed, fleetingly, over his lips, Jeje shrugged before reaching out and taking the bottle from Mikuni. "Is it not obvious that I did?"

"Who was that man? Really."

His tone was low, leaving no room to avoid, and Jeje frowned. He had been afraid that Mikuni would bring it up again. When they had parted ways, leaving the two ill fated priests at the café, he had watched Jeje like a hawk, refusing to let him out of his sight for the next forty eight hours and finally, at his breaking point, Jeje had resorted to his snake form, knowing in that at least, his expression was indecipherable. Mikuni, out of character, had not said anything about it, only made sure that Jeje was wrapped around his neck wherever they went. If he hadn't know better he would have thought, indulged in the idea, that Mikuni was actually worried he might disappear, running off to find the ruins of his past. Whether it was emotion or simple self preservation that motivated this intense vigil didn't matter. It was just nice to know that if he were there or not mattered in the slightest.

"He was..." He trailed off, unsure how to explain. Knowing in his heart, dead as it may be, that it had been Matteo, was different than saying it out loud. And in the end, he still wasn't sure he even wanted the truth to be heard. Matteo was never going to be safe, never have the life he truly deserved, because somewhere along the line his soul had been so ensnared with the evil he had ignorantly summoned he was now fated for a path that Jeje could do nothing about.

Eventually, tenacity fueled by their meeting, Jeje had managed to dig up a roster that listed one Father Matteo Rossi. He had lived in the same seminary, the same time; there was no question. The aged little book, now clutched worryingly tightly in Jeje's hands, had gone on to say that Father Matteo, upon his ordainment had chosen to branch out and been quite successful, listed as one of the Vatican's top exorcists. He had had few partners, often going alone, choosing places and people far removed from their home, leaving with little expectation to return, only to do so, shocking those that had bid him farewell. Viewed fondly by all who met or knew of him, his reputation had brought him fame and status, though it appeared it was never something he made use of. In the end, after fifteen or so odd years, he had met his end, and that's where the information had abruptly cut off. In a fit, Jeje had hunted up everything even remotely related that he could find, well aware he would regret knowing the details but needing them all the same.

When he had finally returned home that day he had slid beneath the couch, finding the heat register that ran along the wall and curling up on it. Mikuni had already dragged him through the coals about his daily excursions to the library and now, after what he had found out, he wasn't sure, even being immortal, that he could survive another sarcastic tongue lashing. He must have dozed off because it was here that Mikuni found him, hours later, and after pushing the couch back, pulled him free.

"You should have known better than to go digging." Was all he said, wrapping Jeje around his neck and wandering back to the bedroom.

Now, weeks later, he seemed to have deemed it a once more breachable topic and yet Jeje was still unable to answer him. Perhaps it was simply that there was no answer; there never had been. "He was a friend." He said plainly.

Watching Mikuni consider this response, he wondered if maybe this was, in itself, an answer, that the similarities between them, that spark of sass and fire, the innate ability to annoy, the quick silver smiles like honeyed light, were all that mattered, if that, in Mikuni, Matteo and Jeje himself, might be able to find forgiveness. Mikuni finally turned to him, mouth open to say something but Jeje interrupted, freeing the words that had lay buried so deeply for so long before he could even decide not to.

"I think you're my fate."

#servamp #my writing #servamp jeje #mikuni alicein #jekuni #sorry guys it always turns into that with me #read between the lines if you want #i #doubt doubt #that you'll be able to ignore it hAH #ORIGIN STORIES #I wanna tag my baby...... #matteo rossi #who wants to send me art of him?????

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Editing Highlight - I Can Finally Tak About Therapy Arc (where I Basically Copied Half of the Chapter and  May or May Not Ramble too Much ^^')

Jonah let out another sigh. Winching, he threw his legs over the bed, slightly trembling when his shoeless feet touch the cold floor. His knees were shaking, but he kept walking toward Rosehearts’ bed, gripping the sheet to balance himself. He looked up to the redhead’s face. His eyes were still close, but listening closely, the breathing tempo was a bit off. “Are you awake, Senior Rosehearts?”

Nothing happened for a few seconds and Jonah was about to go back knowing he was wrong, but then Rosehearts let out a groan. Slowly, he opened his blue eyes, blinking slowly at him. “How did you know?” he whispered, voice slightly cracked.

Jonah shrugged. “A lucky guess.” He walked up closer to his head. “How are you feeling? And please be honest.”

Another groan came out of his mouth. “Terrible…” He tried to get up but the pained sound that came out made Jonah move and help him up.

“It’ll pass. I hope,” Jonah chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as he sat beside Rosehearts.

There was silence between them. The air was awkward. Jonah noticed the way Rosehearts kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Did he want to say something? Jonah himself wanted to say something. Maybe he should start first.

Jonah cleared his throat. “Senior Rosehearts. Can I ask something?”

The prefect looked up, a bit surprised but then he nodded. Jonah nodded back. “Is there something you want?”

Rosehearts tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed in confusion. Of course. That was a weird question. Jonah let out a weak chuckle before twisting his body so he was facing the other prefect for more focus. ”I mean… If you have the chance, is there something you really want to do?”

Rosehearts shook his head. “I’m not-”

“It’s okay.” Jonah reached out to hold Rosehearts’s right hand, frowning when the other flinched. “I won’t judge you.”

Rosehearts bit his lips and looked down, his left hand kept playing with his blanket. After a while, which Jonah thought he wouldn’t answer, Rosehearts finally whispered, “I... I really wanted to eat that mont blanc too...”

Jonah smiled. “You should try that. Maybe we can try making those.”

“Was it fun?” There was a small blush on Rosehearts’ cheek and he averted his gaze. “The baking… I mean.”

“It was.” Jonah chuckled. “Deuce had trouble with the piping and you should’ve seen Ace’s face when he nearly drops the hot pan.” Rosehearts looked confused, but that was okay. Jonah was just happy he managed to make him react to something. “Anything else?”

“I... I like white roses, too.”

“Do roses have different colors other than red and white?”

“They have pink, and yellow too. Also, green and orange. Sometimes lavender, novelty, salmon, peach, and cream. I heard that someone is trying to cultivate blue roses. They’re considered to have magical power.”

Jonah whistled. “Wow, that’s a lot.”

Rosehearts nodded. This time he looked up to him. “I once saw the lined them up to make a rainbow rose arc.”

“Must’ve been pretty.”

Rosehearts smiled a little, feeling nostalgic. “It was.”

“Speaking of colors, what color do you think is good on a flamingo?”

“Well, the Laws of the Queen of Heart-”

“No.” Jonah held Rosehearts’ hand tighter. “What do you think is good for the flamingo?”

Rosehearts blinked again in confusion. But then, he looked down again. “Pink. I like the pink flamingos. It’s natural for them.”

Jonah nodded. “One day, you should teach me how to play that croquet game.”

“Trey taught me when we were kids. I had fun playing with him. I want...” Rosehearts gripped his blanket tighter. His voice began to crack. “I always want to play with them more... But, Mama...” He sniffled. “Mama always says not to play too much... If I play too much, I wouldn’t have time to study... And if I don’t study... Then I can’t make my family proud...”

“Why is that?”

Rosehearts whipped his wet eyes with his sleeve, but the tears just kept on flowing. “The... In the Rose Kingdom, women are superior to men... That’s why... Mama always says that I have to be better... I have to be better and better... If not... I’ll be left behind from the other... And I can’t...”

Sobs began to fill the room. Rosehearts didn’t even bother to wipe off the tears that fall down his cheeks. Jonah pulled Rosehearts down, letting his head rested on his lap. He didn’t mind if his pants became wet, Senior Rosehearts needs this. He probably never experienced this. Never had the chance to actually cry.

“You must be tired, huh?” Jonah whispered, running his hand through Rosehearts’ red hair.

“I’m tired...” he whispered back between his sobs and sniffles. “I’m so tired... I want to sleep... I want to play with the other... I just want to talk with more people... I just...” Rosehearts turned his head and looked up to Jonah. “Is there any rule... Is there any rule for me to get rid of this pain...?”

Jonah knew he can’t answer that. Nobody can, not even the Law of the Queen of Heart. “To be honest,” he sighed as he kept brushing Rosehearts’ hair. “I don’t know.”

Rosehearts bit his lips, disappointed by the fact that he would not be able to enjoy all the things he had said. Forever he would follow his mother’s rules and teaching without being able to take a break. He wouldn’t be able to have a moment like this again. Just to speak everything he wants, being comforted by someone who would listen. By the time they were able to leave the infirmary, both of them probably wouldn’t be able to see each other again. After all who would’ve wanted to befriend the Crimson Tyrant?

“I would.”

Rosehearts looked up again, blinking in surprise. Did... Did he say all of that out loud?

Jonah smiled down at him. “You are not the Crimson Tyrant.” His hand stopped brushing Rosehearts’ hair, but slowly help him sit up again. They faced each other, with Jonah’s hand on his cheek. “You just need someone to guide you along the way. I know you’re a good kid, Senior Rosehearts.”

“You’re a good guy, Senior Rosehearts. You just need the perfect guidance. Therefore, Riddle Rosehearts… You are free from any punishment.”

It is him.

Tears came out from Rosehearts’ eyes again, this time wasn’t because of sadness, but relief. Maybe he could... Maybe he could find a way to make up the time he had lost... Maybe he could finally get rid of this aching feeling in his heart... Jonah pulled him into a hug, and he just let him. He wanted to feel the warmth of someone’s hug. He wanted to have a shoulder he could lean on. He wanted to have a comforting hand, running down his hair, erasing all those anxiety away...

He wants to have a dear friend like him...

To premise this, I am not a therapist or a school counselor. I'm just a regular math education college student who barely understands one-way ANOVA. But, I'm always interested in students' problems, more specifically their mental ones. Again, I'm not a therapist, so my knowledge of this and what I wrote above may come out as shallow.

This fic 'Therapy Arc' in the beginning is a way to fill the few days gap between Riddle's overblot and the Revenge Unbirthday Party. It's essentially the calm after the storm where the reader can breathe for a moment, for the character to take a rest, heal their wound, and just reflect their action. If my memory serves correctly, Riddle is the only victim who pours their feeling in the aftermath. Jamil's speech in the aftermath feels like a rant instead and Kalim is the one who actually reflects on his treatments toward Jamil. Azul doesn't say anything and most everyone around him is convincing him that he's better than he thought he is. but I appreciate the small moment in the museum. Leona doesn't even talk, like at all, about his feelings. This is why Riddle's aftermath is my favorite because of that moment of him telling what he wants (a small moment of vulnerability) and his growth after that is satisfying to watch.

Back to the Therapy Arc, it has some influence from the typical visual novel's 'Character Route' where the MC spends time with a potential waifu/husbando, going through their scenario, solving the problems, and eventually become a couple. My fic Therapy Arc is essentially that. A moment for Jonah to get to know more about the victim, giving them some time to rest, and mending the bonds that were ruined before that. In turn, Riddle becomes more open and more expressive, and it doesn't feel out of character because we have a good reason for it. This is why the next four episodes are important. This is why Break & Gosh is written. I just need these kids to take a break and talk about their feelings dammit! 

Also, I'm not trying to change the character, they can still be assholes, but I know they have potential, I just want to explore them. What matters after that is the willingness to change, will they be like Riddle who changes for the better, or like Leona who seems constant but still has that little changes. I just want to see how far I can make them grow. Character development is a major key that I always want to strive for.

This is what I want to try to make my fic a bit different. Personal character interactions for both MC and canon characters, and between canon characters, which is why I have Jonah-Riddle and Trey-Riddle, also Jonah-Leona-Ruggie. Every action will affect them in some ways. And I'm not making this for the sake of shipping. Yes, there are some potential and some are leading to that, but that's never the goal.

In the end TW:OPT is a story about the bonds between these boys. Second chances, forgiveness, growth, and the power of love and friendship. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

Also, Ace screaming in front of Riddle's face just doesn't sit well for me. He still gets his Revenge Unbirthday Party but only after Riddle is calmer.

Also, ALSO! There is a hint of worldbuilding but I won't touch about it yet.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fic #twst fanfic #twst fic #riddle rosehearts #jonah argentum (my oc)

[nyxi-styx]

On Character Development

Let me preface this by saying that I started watching Supernatural somewhat casually in 2012, but binging in 2014. (The first episode I ever saw was actually a rerun of ‘A Very Supernatural Christmas’ back in 2008/09-ish.) I diligently watched EVERY episode, catching up online or on the app when I didn’t have cable. I stopped watching season 12 a few episodes in because I hated it. I watched some of the beginning of season 13 and it was “okay”, watched Scoobynatural because I’ve loved Scooby-Doo for as long as I can remember (my bedroom in 2nd grade when I was living with my grandma was entirely scooby-doo themed), and watched Gabriel’s episodes because... he’s my fave. I got tired of the repetitive storylines and recycled lore. I got tired of their mistreatment of characters. I am still tired of these things. And I’m tired of the constant fandom drama. I tried to leave, to get out, to stop caring. But I still care about the characters, the cast, my ships... Destiel and writing content for it has been a big part of my freetime for the past 4-5 years. It’s hard to walk away from something that has made you feel so many things so intensely. I started out as a Dean girl (still am) and Samcurious (Still am). Then I was a Cas girl, a Crowley girl, fuck- even a Kevin girl, before ultimately settling on Gabriel. When information about the end of season 14 came out, I was surprised at the route they’d chosen to go, amused, and- as a Rob Benedict fan- kind of excited. I was (and still am) ready for the absolute SHIT SHOW I know season 15 is going to be. It’s either going to be bad in the way that bad horror movies exist and you watch them because they’re so terrible but they’re fun. Or it’s going to be bad and no one is going to have a good time. It’s going to be emotional in the time leading up to the airing of it all anyway. There’s going to come “Last day filming with [actor]” posts, “Last day in the Impala“ posts, “Last day in the bunker” posts, and saddest of all “Last day as Dean/Sam/Castiel” posts. It’s going to be painful. But I’m ready and willing. I can’t wait to see what they do next. Anyway...

I tried to watch JUST the season 14 finale. But I barely made it five minutes before I had to turn it off. Not because it was bad, but because the recap, “Carry On Wayward Son”, and J2′s acting abilities and the EMOTIONS they portray... dragged me right back in. I knew I had to catch up. Against my better judgement. “Fuck.”

So, once I finished catching up on “Slasher” (great Netflix series, highly recommend), I started catching up on anything I hadn’t seen of season 13 and rewatching Gabriel’s episodes. (Did I mention he’s my fave?)  I’m now 10 episodes into season 14.

Now, the show isn’t without its faults still. Honestly, so many things could be solved if Sam and Dean would stop letting monsters monologue. Shoot first, ask questions later. But... then we lose all the drama, right? Still more things could be solved if Sam and Dean would talk to each other openly and honestly but hey. BMs, right? Bro moments? Broments?

First of all, no one will EVER be able to touch Mark Pellegrino’s performance as Lucifer. He makes me feel everything: From “Lucifer is annoying and I goddamn love him; he’s so funny.” to “Jesus fucking christ just KILL HIM WHILE YOU HAVE THE CHANCE!!! STAB LUCIFER! LET HIM DIE!!” and everything in between. He almost got me to sympathize with him. Yikes.

Secondly, the range of Misha fucking Collins and his multiple portrayals of different versions of Castiel (and Jimmy) will never stop blowing me away. He’s gone from Angel of the Lord and High Holy Tax Accountant and you WILL show him some damn respect!... to sassy as fuck (honestly I live for him sassing Lucifer while they were locked up in hell) and not willing to take shit from anyone except Sam and Dean. And that’s growth, man. He’s just... I don’t have the ability to put all of my thoughts and emotions into words, so please settle for a simple “UGHGHGHGHHHHHHHH” followed by a keysmash like so: aslkfla;sknfkasdjfnwqrjqejrfna Sam, Dean, and Cas are all REALLY GOOD DADS to JACK??????????? Like I expected it from Cas since it’s his duty because he promised Kelly and all, and I kinda expected it from Dean once he came around because he’d be the dad he wished he’d had, but I wasn’t quite expecting it from Sam??? But Sam is REALLY good??????

Sam has changed a lot too, overtime, and I don’t know how to describe it, exactly, but whatever it is... while I have always recognized Jared as a handsome man- sure, even hot or sexy at times- I never was SUPER into him... I’m more attracted to Sam now than I have ever been in the past and it’s something in his personality that has shifted that I can’t quite put my finger on. But attraction aside, it’s so GOOD to see these characters actually grow, change, and develop despite the fact that the show seems to have forgotten how to do that.

Now, at first, when I heard about Dean accepting warzone!Michael and being his vessel, I was angry. “Fuck that. That’s out of character. Dean would NEVER!” But... upon seeing it happen... okay, I get it. It was super in character. And it was awesome to see Jensen play something vastly different (and kinda hot) and do so very fucking well. The pain and fear on his face when he realizes what he has to do... Well fucking done Jensen!!! And the raw fear and pain on Castiel’s face as he waits alone... Well fucking done, Misha!!!

What I hadn’t noticed in my first watch-through of “Exodus” (I think)- and it’s probably because I was angry and turned it off- was that Dean said “Gabe sacrificed himself for us. We owe him everything.” First of all, I love the canonization of calling Gabriel “Gabe”. 12/10 Secondly, this is not the attitude I would ever have expected Dean to have about Gabriel. Not when you consider their history. And Jensen’s delivery of that really hurt. Additionally, when Gabriel is recounting his time hiding out in Monte Carlo to Sam and Dean, and Sam gets annoyed and cuts him off, Dean looks like he’s actually enjoying the story. He even turns to look at Sam with an expression I can only describe as “excuse you. the man lived my fantasy life and i’m living vicariously. rude.” The fact that Dean wasn’t always curt or hostile towards Gabriel is not at all what I expected and it’s honestly good to see that kind of growth. Dean and Gabriel aren’t really super different, after all. Furthermore, what I didn’t notice through BOTH times I watched Gabriel’s s13 episodes and what was featured in the recap preceding 14x01... Dean shouted “Gabe! No!” when Gabriel was killed by Michael. I didn’t notice this before and I legitimately had to pause the recap because it pained me. It genuinely brought me to tears. Again: GROWTH. Like... Dean actually cared about Gabriel. And that was something I never expected but oh my god.

I love finding things out about the characters we didn’t know before. So we all knew that Dean likes junk food, is a big nerd, loves Scooby-Doo, and loves classic rock music (and is a disaster bi) but I LOVED finding out that he loves horror movies and uses them as an escape. (Jesus, Dean and I are almost the same person except I’m pan). Gabriel’s entire backstory is another thing I loved finding out. Juicy tidbits are the best tidbits. But Gabriel’s character development is another whole post on its own.

Sam taking control and commanding forces out of the bunker is another personal favorite. As was Sam’s interactions with Lucifer and Rowena.

I don’t know. I’m starting to ramble because all of this is just bringing up more thoughts and I’m getting disorganized and derailed. It’s too long of a post as it is so I’ll just end it.

I’m just really glad to see the characters growing and developing in a show that’s just a dead cash cow that they won’t quit beating enough to take risks and make changes.

Oh god, the Wayward Sisters episode was its own hot pot of character development and  a masterpiece, but again... another post of it’s own.

#supernatural #spn #longpost #supernatural season 14 #supernatural season 13 #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #alex calvert #richard speight jr #mark pellegrino #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #gabriel #lucifer #destiel #spn family #jackles #jarpad #dicksp8jr #sam winchester #michael #michael!dean #exodus #let the good times roll #bring em back alive #unfinished business #beat the devil #stranger in a strange land

[a-mellowtea]

The Greatest Kingdom | RWBY Volume 7 Chapter 1 Review

Now that my hype has died down a respectable amount, I think I’m clear-headed enough to express my thoughts on the RWBY Volume 7 premiere. I’m going to hold off on posting this until it’s publicly available and everyone comfortably knows what I’m on about, so by the time of reading, this’ll be a week-or-so old.

Going into Volume 7, I have to say, I was extremely excited. Volume 6 was a little bittersweet for me: a solid mix of things I liked and didn’t, where one didn’t really overshadow or completely take away from the other. The hiatus between Volumes 6 and 7 was also particularly exhausting, on both a mental and emotional level, and while that may sound over-dramatic, I’m sure many can attest to how much of a drag it all was. 

However, Volume 7 set us up somewhere I’ve been aching to see more of for a while: since Volume 2, if I’m honest. That being, of course, the Kingdom of Atlas and its defunct partner, Mantle. There’s so much rich potential for story in Atlas and, as “The Greatest Kingdom” revealed, CRWBY was set to dive right in, to some fairly pleasant results.

We open the Chapter with a shot panning down through the night sky, with our typical emphasis on the shattered moon. This is the first Volume, though, wherein we are aware of its true nature: how it got to be that way and, appropriately, the raised stakes now quite literally looming over our heroes’ heads. There is something more immediate to attend to, however, revealed as the shot finishes moving: the Atlesian air fleet.

I’m not certain if this was mentioned anywhere too openly, but Volume 7 Chapter 1 was originally intended to be the finale of Volume 6. I seem to recall Neath Oum, the voice of Ren, making comment on how an important moment was shifted because of this change (which we’ll get to in a bit). Point being, the Volume picks up exactly where Volume 6 left off, with the heroes’ stolen air ship, Manta 5-1, being welcomed home by an Atlesian officer. It doesn’t feel all that much like the premieres of the past; simply a continuation, though I’m hesitant to label that as a good or bad thing.

“But we are here,” Jaune then insists to the group. “We got the lamp to Atlas, so I guess we land and get some answers.” It’s obviously not going to be that simple -- wouldn’t be very interesting if it was -- but that’s something that stuck out to me. The heroes, this little hiccup aside, have accomplished the majority of their mission. They made it to Atlas, which was as far as they presumably intended to go (Yang, V6Ch6: “We can’t stop until the lamp is safe”). They’re our heroes, of course, so something will keep them going, but I am interested to see exactly what does push them to continue a fight they now feel is rather pointless. James has a line in the trailer about how “until now, I believed it was impossible to truly turn the tide against Salem”. I do wonder what that could be, and moreover, whether or not our heroes will inform him of everything they learned in Volume 6.

Back in the Chapter, Weiss warns that if they land in a stolen air ship, there’s no way they’ll be heard out or get a chance to speak with Ironwood. Now, I promise this is the only time I’ll mention further gripes with Volume 6 but honestly: you couldn’t’ve realized that sooner? That should’ve been the first thing on their minds when they decided to take such a risky course of action: is this really going to get us where we need to go when we know that the Kingdom of Atlas has closed its borders? It doesn’t matter that the air fleet is deployed aggressively; they should have accounted for the fact that they wouldn’t just be able to waltz right up Atlas. Yet somehow they seem to have forgotten about that until this rather convenient -- or inconvenient -- moment.

After Weiss perks up and remembers she can contact her sister, we get our first look at Mantle proper, and it’s wonderful. Literally down-to-earth, the dirty streets and brown-grey color palette intermixed with neon signage gives it something of a dystopian feel that is incredibly unique. Here, we get our first look at General James Ironwood since Volume 4 (discounting the Volume 7 trailer), and the presentation is telling. On an enormous neon holographic display, looming over the city of Mantle, and though his words are a promise of safety, he makes them at a distance. I doubt this is intended as screaming ‘dictator’, but merely showing a divide; one that is certainly not good. Yang and Ruby share a remark that he looks tired and Qrow wonders worriedly what he’s been doing (a year is kindly added to my life every time Qrow calls him “James”, and yes I will die in this rarepair hell). Indeed it seems that, in the month and a bit since Weiss left, things have taken a steep turn for the worse, with constant Atlesian patrols and surveillance drones in the streets. It’s certainly looking bleak, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love this set-up. The shot with the children lobbing a pebble at a drone, then hiding from it, in particular does a good job solidifying that this has become a norm, but an unwelcome one.

Weiss continues to insist that Winter can help them, but our first look at the eldest Schnee sibling begs to differ. It appears as though she’s upholding the military law placed over Mantle, and this seems to shock Weiss a good deal. With that off the table, Maria interjects that she knows someone who can help them.

Now would probably be a good moment for a quick aside to mention how wonderful of a job Jason Liebrecht does as the new voice of Qrow. The difference is noticeable, but I found it wasn’t enough to completely throw me off: at least, not for long. It’ll take some getting used to, but the character is no different, and Jason’s performance is solid.

Our heroes head out into the streets of Mantle, and we get a bit of light exposition from Maria about the Kingdom on the walk, after Yang continues to be everyone’s favorite brash blonde and kick subtlety out into the middle of the street where it is summarily smashed by a truck. I don’t have much to say about the encounter with Rupert the Drunk other than it felt perfectly in-place for what we know of Atlas and Mantle, and that Maria’s right: these kids have no concept of keeping a low profile when it counts. Not that I can blame Weiss; I honestly probably would have done the same. Although, given that we do see Rupert’s blue-beanie’d friend in the trailer, and how the shot pans back to show Winter, I’m willing to make a bet that this particular man will let someone in Mantle know the lost ex-Schnee heiress is back.

And then we’re introduced to Pietro. He is wonderful. Please protect.

The scene itself plays out as fairly lighthearted, until Yang and Blake bring the topic back around to the situation in Mantle. From there, we hear what we were basically expecting: James is scared (”paranoid”, as Pietro corrects), and it seems like our heroes aren’t the only ones having a hard time figuring out who to trust. I’d be hard pressed to believe that, given the Volume’s opening and the circumstances, the Queen virus from Volumes 2 and 3 is completely out of the picture. As it was so succinctly put by a fellow Redditor: this Volume is going to break this man.

Weiss steps up to ask about the Council and Winter, but it’s quickly sidetracked by Pietro recognizing her, and then Yang by the arm that he, presumably, built for her. The revelation that Pietro knows Team RWBY isn’t given much time to sink in before the alarms out in the street begin to blare and it becomes time for the premiere’s obligatory -- but honestly, very well done -- fight scene.

And now I will make my own obligatory aside to praise the music. The guitar piece in this fight is not done by Jeff Williams, as many probably expected, but is rather Alex Abraham’s work. I’ve seen a good handful of people I mentioned this to be surprised that he even plays guitar, and yes; yes, he does. And he kicks ass at it, if that wasn’t obvious enough.

While I saw the fight scene a handful of times before the Chapter premiered, thanks to RTX and again about three days before hand when it was released through Entertainment Weekly, I’m still incredibly impressed by it on a technical level. It’s a fight scene mostly for the sake of having a fight scene, but it looks damn good. Qrow, Oscar and Ruby’s sections stood out to me the most as having some solid choreography and camera work.

And then in a somewhat jarring shift in tone (will this show ever decide if the Grimm are a threat or not? Will power levels ever not give us a headache? Find out... sometime! Hopefully!), we get the aforementioned big moment: Penny, our resident robotic ray of sunshine, is alive and well!

And... kinda honestly makes our heroes look like jobbers? I say that fondly, and with a good deal of chuckling, because I do recall that Monty (or perhaps it was one of the boys?) mentioned Miles and Kerry were fairly averse to having a character use lasers specifically because of how powerful they are. In any case, it makes for a spectacular entrance, and I do especially love Penny’s graceful little flair of a pirouette up to the moon before she lands.

I will say perhaps my one gripe with this episode isn’t Penny’s return, but Ruby and the others’ reaction to it. It doesn’t break the episode, but allowing for comedy over what should have honestly been a very emotional moment for our lead didn’t sit right with me, personally. It’s treated as though this was almost expected, or at least a possibility they knew about in-universe, not a “holy crap, we saw her get torn to shreds”. Just because the audience expects it doesn’t mean the characters would, and I think I was simply expecting more from it. Then again, this is only Chapter 1, so we’ll see where they go with it.

After Penny blasts off to go save another quadrant of the city (she is now its official protector, after all), and Maria is brilliantly oblivious, RNJRWBY and QO are, in an unsurprising turn of events, apprehended by Ace Ops (ASOPS, Atlesian Special OPerativeS, would make a lick more sense, but ah well). I’m a bit concerned about the big ensemble this Volume, but I love the no-shits-given Chad vibes off their leader, Clover. It seems as though his Semblance, or character inspiration at least, is good luck (spinning a horseshoe, wearing a rabbit’s foot and has a clover as his emblem), and I cannot wait for him to have some dynamic with Qrow.

And Clover summarily lists off how many rules they’ve violated in the city in the span of about 10 minutes. Maria: hums, nods, fucks off. Basically one big “welp, he’s got ya there kids”. Bless her snarky soul; I hope this isn’t the last time we see her.

And, yes, thank you very much: these are the consequences I was hoping for. It’s likely to just get them where they need to go -- we wouldn’t have a Volume if they were in jail for all of it -- but they did still break the law and that’s that as far as Atlas’ forces were ever going to be concerned. I’m contented with something surface-level on that front.

We end the Chapter with our heroes arrested, in the back of a transport, and looking like they’re reevaluating their life choices. Cue the new OP!

Briefly: visuals of the new intro are solid, the staff of Creation being behind Monty’s name is really damn clever, “Trust Love” is a wonderful pop-y theme, Penny’s a cinnamon roll, someone please save James from all this bullshit.

Overall, a strong continuation off the previous Volume, but again I’d be hesitant to say it felt like a “proper” premiere. It’s very different from the feeling of previous ones, which can be chalked up to the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be a premiere but a finale, so ultimately I cannot fault it for coming out like neither. It was a good introduction to Mantle, the dynamic of the lower Kingdom, and left me in anticipation of what’s to come, which is such a refreshing feeling.

I’m hopeful and excited for the rest of the Volume. Let’s see where this roller coaster ride takes us.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #it was solid #also LOVE the OP #catch me swooning over Qrow's new look #in fact all the new looks are growing on me #oh and Robin Hill! #she's gonna be neat #ace ops too #so much cool stuff #i'm just worried they won't have time for it all tbh