The boogeyman kill

some high quality™ screenshots of our favorite canadian from todays decked out 2 event

they’re just standing there…menacingly goofily

I love how all of the players in Secret Life episode 6 were separated into groups

The Zombies/Boogeymen

The Survivors

✨Martyn✨

i finally got around to watching Martyn's watcher lore this shit is Serious

watching grian's third life movie with my sister. highlights reel:

"if scar likes disney and he just quoted the lion king then CLEARLY that means he's going to kill grian by throwing him off a cliff and grian is just DUMB to not see the literary analysis!!!!!!"

*her calling grian some variation of stupid at every available opportunity*

"he's like a babysitter!!!!!"

*her jaw on the floor when scar died*

Martyn really said "I am the drama" this session.

Making a new rule that if you want to join the Big Dogs you have to forsake your old alliances. Telling Pearl white lies about Bdubs, forcing Skizz to choose between the dogboy aesthetic and his old buddy Tango. He really found the people Most Likely To Bark and forced them to make a hard decision, then tried to kill Pearl right in front of Bdubs so that she'd have to join too-

I wonder what character analysts are gonna make of this. Martyn, after losing Mumbo and Jimmy, became possessive and demanded full loyalty... what experience does that stem from?

honestly still the biggest personal tragedy of session 5 is that when grian joined gem in the tower building. in gems episode, there were almost a solid 10 minutes of just that. them hanging out, calm, peaceful, no danger, away from people that could hurt them . and guess what ? grian left LESS THAN 3 MINUTES OF THAT IN HIS EPISODE dbjksffejw

I dont know how I forgot it but I think we need to talk about how Martyn got etho to bark with him in last life

The hand and the beholden

ohbmy god tangos episode (hes just like me)

so *cracks knuckles* i just watched martyn's third life series and

im. going. insane.

me: Living for it

(Cw: injury description, death, some body horror ig, existentialism, lynx's dumb headcanons)

Gore dripped slowly down the slick, blue blade. A tear slipped down the cold cheek of the devil who lay there all wreathed in red and crowned if his broken horns. The sword had come down too hard upon his shoulder, and he hadn't been able to grab for the blade that he and scott had tossed aside in an act of virtue and honor. Their fists and claws had been all the weapon they'd needed... if the meteor hadn't struck when he had. The thick, acrid scent of burned fish swam through his nose as he cast his crimson eyes to the corpse of the merfolk who lay before him, wreathed in his own loser's crown of blazing laurels. A halo of blistering lava bubbled and popped as it seemed into the ground around the body. Scott hadn't even had a chance to grab their sword. Their legs had given out under them as the heat boiled their very will. Webbed hands were clasped around gills in a final act of desperate gasping, the smoke choking the air from lungs and gills alike.

Martyn felt the thrill filling his veins with a laugh. It was a hot, blazing pleasure that ran through his blood like lightning. It burned like pain, but it never did hurt. Others had said it hurt whenever you stole the time from another, but that wasn't true. It only hurt because they let themselves feel bad about it. He wouldn't do that. It was a death match after all.

Webbed hands twisted by the sea that gripped the blade losened their hold, and he only barely heard the sword fall to the red-stained grass beneath his feet. His boots had long since come off after his last death when he'd found they confined the large, webbed feet too tight. He clenched clawed toes into the wet grass. His arms felt heavy. Too heavy, and Martyn had to fight to stay upright as he laughed. No one was there to hear him laugh, but he threw his gold maned head back, every gasp of laughter making the pufferfish scales expand and flex under his skin, puffing up like the pauldrons of warrior. He laughed louder than he ever had before. Skizz had complimented his laugh on day one, hadn't he? Oh, how Martyn was glad Skizz had reminded him to laugh. Where was he now? With those listeners? Watchers? Taking his place among the contestants for the next match? Would Martyn join them then, too?

He sloughed the jacket from his shoulders, the banner of a long-lost land he could hardly forget flowing behind him like a scarf of blood from his waist. He flexed his claws- new additions after joining Scott- and looked down at those fishscaled hands. Were they stained red because of the blood he spilt? Or was it simply his scales matching his name? Filthy reds.

As he took a step forward, he lurched forward with an unnaturally long stride, feeling his muscles and flesh stretch with his motions like elastic stretched to its limits. His shoulder pulsed with his huffing breath. The fissures glowed purple, but he tried to ignore them. The time ticked down. The sand trickled through the neck.

That's my time.

He watched as every second passed in the pulse of his fissures and the beat of his heart. I need more time. He climbed the hill, every step more awkward than the last. It was like his legs didnt fit his hips anymore. He tasted the air, checked the tab. There had to be more time. Surely. He had drawn his blade with thirty minutes left. But now, Martyn wandered that familiar land for an hour. Maybe it was an hour? It was aimless and tired and hungry. Every second did not pass as a second, but as a beat of a time starved heart. Twenty four hours down to thirty minutes. I want my time back.

He broke into a sprint, tumbling down onto all fours. Drool (or was it blood?) Dripped down his chin as he scaled the towers, raced along the skynet, and over the hills. He scrambled around TNT craters. Had the meteor made those, too? The cake had gone stale. The bread had gone moldy. "Time... I need time. No, no, no, NO!" He snarled, his voice wet with bloodlust. After everything, he still LOST. He wasn't losing, no... no. But he watched as he lost. He stood before the hourglass, and watched red sand trickle down.

"CRUEL, YOU ARE CRUEL!" He snarled to the heavens, time-addled mind only forming words out of rage as he swiped with his claws at the sky. He couldn't hear their laughter. But he knew they laughed. They laughed and watched and listened and he had to wait. Is this how Grian felt while he buried Scar? Is this how Scott had felt before the watchers, in their infinate "mercy" slew him with a snap of their proverbial fingers? And Pearl? Did she relish the lonesome, or did she too curse the cruelty of those damn voyeuristic bastards overhead.

"Ren... Ren," he muttered, barely recalling whose name it is he called for as he held the tattered banner in his claws. "Scott... I..." He wasn't sorry. Betrayal had been in his blood since before day one.

Inthelittlewood Ran Out of Time.

Watching Grian's pov of Secret life and. The puns. It's great. I missed this.

Pretty high up there in my favorite moments of Double Life were the ones where partners who were not together were sharing damage, but they were surrounded by other people, because IMAGINE THAT.

Imagine being BigB, who turns around as Grian starts crying out, and he sees the massive bleeding wound on Grian's body that definitely wasn't there a second ago, and Grian looks terrified and confused because he just got so close to death and he doesn't even know who his soulbound is. BigB and the others can only stand there and make sure that Grian heals back up, pressing food into his hands and looking at each other, suddenly VERY aware of the danger they're all in.

Imagine being Bdubs, walking through the Deep Dark and feeling a push at his shoulder that didn't come from Joel. One of them spots Martyn on top of the portal. Bdubs is kicked in his face with a boot that isn't there and knows Impulse is down here with them seconds before they see him, because Martyn is trying to shove his soulmate into the warden's waiting maw.

Or imagine being Cleo and Martyn. Watching Scott's back as his clothes start to smoke, which isn't really an uncommon sight with him, having Pearl as his soulbound (usually it's frostbite but bear with me im narratating). But then he drops to one knee as a deep slash tears through the back of his shirt and suddenly, real worry enters Scott's voice as Cleo and Martyn nervously hop around him, pressing close as Scott says "I might be going", blood trickling down his arm and all they can do is wait on bated breath and put all of their trust in Pearl to not lose in the next few moments.

There are multiple soulbounds who permadie while not in the presence of their partner, and that's tragic as hell. But it's those that end up surviving the experience that stick with me the most, because of their friends who bear witness to their panic, their suffering, and who might hear their last words.

Something something watching your friend die and being able to do nothing about it because their universe-assigned partner is in danger, but at least they won't die alone.