#as far as fictional sexy priests go he’s not all that

[wrestlersownmyheart]

Heyyy~ saw your requests were open and was lookin for some Damian Priest content! Definetly Judgement Day vibes, maybe he’s looking to recruit Y/N? I wanna read this and BLUSH, FLUSTER ME I DARE YA!

I DOUBLE DARE YA! 😂 ok thanks!!!

Thanks for helping me hammer out the title on this @auburnwrites!! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! 😀

Title: Love & Conquests Pairing: Damian Priest X Reader Summary: You work as a trainer for WWE. You notice competition between Damian Priest of the Judgement Day, and wannabe member, JD McDonagh, but you don't realize why. Till they both start hitting on you. Then you feel like a conquest and decide to shun them both. But will you grow feelings for Damian as he spends more time around you? And will JD take the hint that he never stood a chance? Or will his actions go too far, causing the Archer Of Infamy to unleash his pent up rage on him? Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Some violence toward men and women.

Note: I saw someone on Tumblr call JD a Funko Pop and I thought it was funny so I used it in this story. Sorry, not trying to be a thief or anything!

Love & Conquests

"Have you seen the new trainer," Dominik Mysterio asked Finn Balor, Damian Priest and JD McDonagh in the locker room Saturday night. "She is a looker, hermanos."

The group was all getting ready for the Fastlane pay-per-view that was to start any minute.

"Really," JD asked. "I'll have t' go check 'er out later."

"Dream on, Pipsqueak." Damian said, his base voice going even lower in pitch. "Keep your mind on business."

"Yeah, okay," JD said reluctantly, buttoning up his black dress shirt. "I'll take care o' business first."

"Why'd you have to go and get his mind off work, bro," Damian said to Dominik. "It's hard enough getting him to pull off a win around here. Why does Finn even want him in our faction?"

"Damian."

Damian looked up to find Adam Pearce standing in the doorway to the Judgement Day's locker room.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to go to the trainer and see how that knee is doing."

"It's fine," Damian replied, giving said knee a pat.

"I still want it checked out. I know you wouldn't tell me if it was still hurt."

Damian rolled his eyes and stood from the couch he'd been sitting on. "It's fine. I'm barely limping."

"But limping nonetheless," Adam shot back. "Go get it checked out or you're not cashing in tonight."

"Wait, what?"

Rhea stood up from the seat she had on the floor. "What do you mean? I thought you were waiting!"

"Chill, Rhea," Damian said, glaring at Adam. "It's not a for sure thing. I was just thinking about it. And if I do cash in, I want to do it on my own." He held up his hands when Finn and Rhea and Dom all three gave him a look. "Look, I just want to win it on my own merit. If y'all go out there and help me, I'm gonna be called a transitional champion. No. I have to do this on my own."

With that, he left the room, a slight limp in his gait.

He headed straight for the trainer's office ready to get this over with. Just as he stepped through the door he was greeted by a beautiful doctor.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You watched as a very tall, handsome Puerto Rican man entered your office. You felt your face flush, and hoped he didn't notice.

"Hi, Are you Damian Priest," you asked shyly, checking your appointments list.

Seemingly quiet, Damian only nodded as he stared at you.

The fact that he stared at you only made your face heat up even more.

Dang it.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N," he replied.

His voice was so deep and sexy!

He reached his hand out to you to shake and you gently took his hand, and shook. You couldn't help but notice how his hand swallowed yours whole.

"So, Adam Pearce said you'd be stopping by. Let's take a look at that knee." You said, motioning for him to sit down on the exam table.

You watched as Damian took his seat on the table. "Now, don't be nervous. We're just going to do a couple of exercises to make sure your knee is stable."

"That's fine. In fact, my knee is fine. I know it."

"I hope so," you said softly, taking a rubber mallet to test his reflexes with. Then you had him hold his leg out straight for thirty seconds to see the strength in his knee and leg. Then you had him stand to his feet and perform a few squats.

Then, you were feeling his knee to see if anything seemed out of place.

"Any pain at all when I do this?"

He shook his head and smiled at you. "The only time it hurts at all is when I walk on it. But the pain is negligible."

You nodded with a hum. "I see. Well, I can't find anything really wrong. I'd still advise you to not cash in your briefcase tonight, but if you do, just use caution."

"Thanks, Doc," Damian smiled at you and reached for your hand once more. You gave it to him and were surprised when he raised the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Oh," you couldn't stop the half-moaned word if you tried. Then you were flaming red again, you could feel it.

Flustered, you tugged your hand back gently and spoke "If… If you do cash in tonight. Stop by here afterward so I can recheck your knee."

Damian smiled again. "Sure thing, cariña. Thanks again, for checking me out," he said with a wink.

Your face would not stop burning this night.

Especially thanks to Mr. Priest.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"You weren't kidding, bro. That new trainer is a knockout. I think I'm in love," Damian said, chuckling. He punched Dominik lightly on the shoulder and grinned as if to say, "You know how to pick 'em!"

"I told you," Dominik responded, with a laugh.

"So are you going to ask her out?"

Rhea asked the question with her arms crossed across her chest. She was protective of her family and wanted to make sure the woman in question was good enough for her "terror twin".

"Of course! Maybe tonight after the show. She wanted me to stop by anyway if I was to cash in. So I figured I might stop by regardless."

"I may have t' stop by m'self," JD grinned. "I love a challenge."

"Excuse you!" Rhea scolded. "Did you not just hear Damian say he was going to ask her out? And women are not challenges, jackass."

"Hey, all's fair in love an' war, love."

"Don't call me love," Rhea spat back.

"You'd better back off," Damian growled, stepping toward JD. "The only reason you're here on the outskirts of the group is because you are Finn's friend. That's the only thing keeping you safe right now."

"Easy, lad," JD said, raising his hands defensively. "I just want t' see what all d'a fuss is about."

Damian took another step toward JD, threateningly. "Leave. Her. Alone."

"Alright. Alright, partner."

"I'm not your partner. And you're not part of the Judgement Day!"

A loud, piercing whistle whizzed through the air then.

Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked at Finn.

"Ever'body, just calm down!" He nearly shouted the words. "I'm gettin' tired of d'a mayhem! Can we all just get on d'a same page?"

Sighing, Finn left the room before anyone could answer him.

"He's right guys," Rhea said. "Get it together!"

She stormed out next.

Which meant Dom was running after her.

Which left JD and Damian.

Not wishing to piss Finn or Rhea off any worse, he simply left the room as well, knowing full well that if he stayed, he'd probably kill JD.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Damian was setting Cody up for JD to hit him with the Money In the Bank briefcase on top of the announce table. But JD screwed up yet once more and slammed the briefcase into Damian's sore knee. Damian instantly went down as his knee buckled and he held onto it.

In the next instant, however, Cody had lifted Damian up and performed a Cross Rhodes onto the announce table. Rhea was beside herself as Jey Uso maneuvered Finn into a double-team Cody Cutter. Jey rolled out of the ring and Cody covered Finn for the 1…2…3!

There were new Undisputed Tag Team Champions!

Rhea sat on the floor looking toward the rafters as if to say, "I can't believe this!"

Finally, after Jey and Cody celebrated in the ring, it was time to head backstage.

Finn and Dom helped Damian backstage and to the trainer.

JD trailed behind them apologizing up and down–only to Finn, not Damian.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You watched Damian's match on the little tv in your office and immediately after JD hit Damian with the briefcase, pulled his file from your drawer and prepared to see him in the next few minutes. You watched as Finn Balor and Dominik Mysterio helped Damian backstage with a shorter man–JD McDonagh if you remembered right–following behind looking to be very apologetic.

Minutes later, Damian headed into your office, a more noticeable limp this time, and waited for you to direct him.

"Have a seat," you told him, motioning to the exam table.

"You don't sound surprised to see me," Damian said to you, as he sat down.

"Well, I was… watchingyourmatchontheTV."

You flushed as you said the words as fast as you could.

"Checkin' me out again, huh?"

"Stop it," you smiled, as your face burned even more. "Now, let's take a look at that knee."

"Miss? Can I have y'r assistance please?" came an Irish voice from the hallway. The man that had trailed behind Finn and Damian on the ramp, stepped into the room holding his head.

"Yes, I'll help you in just a few moments," you replied. "If you'll have a seat in one of the chairs, I'm with a patient at the moment."

You heard Damian grumble under his breath as JD took a seat and waited.

"What are you even here for," he demanded. "I was the one who took a hard hit to the knee. Because of you!"

"Hey now," JD sounded defensive. "I took a hard hit t' d'a head. I need t' be checked f'r a concussion.

"Your big head could take a few hits!"

"Guys," you said, squatting down and gently rolling up Damian's pant leg so you could better see his knee. "I'm not equipped to break up a fight. So, please calm down."

"Don't worry, cariña. We're not going to get into a fight. In your office." Damian specified. "The hallway, now that's a different matter."

You frowned as you checked over Damian's knee. There was a bit of swelling, but as you examined it, you couldn't find anything wrong with it–other than the swelling.

"Ice it down tonight and put some heat on it tomorrow, and it should be fine," you said, with a sigh. "You guys need to be more careful."

"Tell that to Funko Pop over there," Damian said.

"Hey, it's not my fault I was given a big head."

There was an odd tone to JD's voice and you looked over at him, saw him smiling an almost perverted grin at you. There was unmistakably an innuendo in his choice of words.

Your face burned drastically, and you frowned again.

Damian seemed to notice and instantly tensed. "Keep the language PG in front of the lady, pendejo."

"Yes, please do," you commented uncomfortably. You went back to looking over Damian's knee and still could find nothing wrong.

"I think you're good, Damian," you said, rising to your feet. "Just ice it and then heat it like I said and rest it till the next show and it should be fine."

"Thanks, cariña. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

He got up and surprised you by taking a seat in one of your chairs. You gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm just staying here to make sure Funko behaves himself."

You grew even more uncomfortable. You felt as though they were competing for your attention. And that made you feel like a conquest. Right then, you decided to shun them both. You weren't going to be treated in such a way.

"Okay, have it your way," you said finally. You took out a pen light and tested JD's pupils against the light. They dilated perfectly. You performed other tests to check him for a concussion and there were absolutely no signs of a concussion at all.

"I think you're fine," you said, putting your pen light back in your pocket.

"I think you're pretty fine, too," JD flirted, his blue eyes went dark and he reached out, traced the cross necklace at your neck.

You stepped back, growing more and more uncomfortable.

"Stop it," Damian instantly said from his chair.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Seriously, I think you are… okay, JD. There are no signs of a concussion."

"Okay, chill, darlin'. It's all good."

"JD. Leave. Ahora," Damian spoke up once again and stood to his feet. His eyes flashed fire.

"Alright, mate. I'm going."

Damian grabbed him by the collar of his dress shirt and escorted him out of the room himself. As he shoved JD out the door, he turned and looked at you. "Would you maybe like to get some drinks tonight? After the show?"

You looked over at him and gave a slight shake of your head. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but I'm not a conquest. And I won't be treated like one. So, no. I wouldn't like to go out for drinks."

With that, you slammed the door in Damian's face and went to work on filling out the medical reports on Damian and JD.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Eres tan estúpido!"

Damian swatted JD on the back of his head and gave him a shove into the wall right next to Finn.

"I swear if you two don't stop it!" Rhea exclaimed. "What is going on now?"

"He screwed things up with me and Y/N," Damian spouted off. "He started hitting on her and made her think we were making her a conquest."

"Maybe you should stay out of Damian's business, JD," Finn said, "After all, he'd made it known his intentions to ask out Y/N."

"But, I wasn't asking her out, per say," JD protested. "I was only hitting on her a wee bit."

"You nearly touched her chest when you were checking out her necklace!" Damian growled, getting in JD's face. "I'd say you weren't hitting on her a "wee bit". You were nearly assaulting her!" He stepped closer, forcing JD to step back against the wall. "And now she thinks I'm a scumbag like you!"

With a roar of rage, Damian lifted JD off his feet by his throat and proceeded to choke the life out of him.

Finn, Rhea and Dom all three freaked out and began trying to get Damian to release JD. He only did when he was good and ready. Which was a full minute later. He finally set JD back on his feet.

"Now, go apologize to her. NOW!"

Nodding silently, JD left the hallway and went in search of Y/N, so he could apologize. And hopefully live after the fact.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You were filing the reports into the file cabinet when you heard a knock at the door. Striding to the door and opening it, you saw JD McDonagh standing on the other side.

"I just want to, uh, ap-apologize." JD started before you could close the door again. "I'm sorry for d'a way I acted."

He wouldn't even look you in the eye. Some apology.

"Thank you JD. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm quite busy."

"Would you want t' catch a late dinner lat'r? After d'a show?" He asked suddenly. Hope lighting up his bright blue eyes.

"I-I don't think so, JD. I've already eaten," you lied. Why you didn't just come out and say you weren't attracted to him, you didn't know. Probably to keep from hurting his feelings.

"Oh. Well, if Damian's a problem, we don't have to let him know, ya know?"

"It's not that. I just really don't feel up to another meal."

"Okay, I see," JD smiled softly. "We can go another night. Catch ya later!" He was off down the hall before you could object to going out with him another night.

Sighing in frustration you sat down at your desk and began working on the remaining reports for the night.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Weeks passed with JD continuously badgering you for a date. You always came up with a lame reason why you couldn't, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. He seemed adamant that the reason you weren't going out with him was because of Damian's temper.

Which couldn't be further from the truth.

Damian had been nothing but kind since the night that JD and Damian were at each other's throats.

He'd come by a while after JD had, and said he was sorry, himself–in detail–not just some flimsy apology. You'd noticed that he also looked you straight in the eye and took your hand–not in a sleazy way either–giving it a gentle squeeze.

He'd won you over in the past weeks, plain and simple. He'd been there in your office when a fight broke out between Jey Uso and Drew McIntyre. If Damian had not been there to put a stop to it, you didn't know what you would've done. You were slightly shaken up because you'd never been around a fight before. Especially so up close and personal. Damian had hugged you afterwards and made sure you were okay.

He'd been coming around your office more and more hanging out, and one night he asked you out again. This time for dinner after the show.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said softly with a smile. You failed to mention that JD had asked you out earlier and you'd turned him down yet again. In fact, you'd not said anything about JD hitting on you at all. You didn't want to start a big row between the two.

So, later, the two of you went to a nice restaurant and had a sit-down meal so you could talk and get to know each other better. You were seated next to the restaurant's front window facing the street, and your menus were brought to you. Within minutes, you had both placed your orders and then were waiting on the food.

"So, how long have you been a trainer," Damian asked. "I heard you used to work for TNA."

"About twelve years. Yes, I worked at TNA from the time I graduated till about a month ago." You took a sip of water. "What about you? How long have you been doing this?"

"Almost nineteen years," Damian answered. "I debuted in Monster Factory Pro Wrestling and trained there for about ten years and then went on to ROH for a few years, and from there, I signed with WWE and started in NXT. I've been on the main roster for about two years and I am loving it."

"You're very good, I've seen your work here in WWE."

"Thank you. So, tell me about yourself. And how did you come to be a trainer for WWE?"

"There's not much to tell. I am single. I live alone in an apartment till I get ready to settle down and buy a house. I grew up an only child and got into athletics at a young age. Got a torn ACL playing baseball when I was fifteen and had to get out of sports due to the severity of the injury. But I had an amazing PT that helped me through the healing process, and I decided I wanted to get into the same line of work. I worked my butt off and did just that. And here I am."

Your food came then and you both decided to eat a few bites before continuing on with your conversation.

However, you didn't notice the car in the street drive by extremely slowly, a pair of blue eyes watching you both angrily…

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N," Damian said, walking you to your hotel door.

"I had a great time too," you replied, giving him a shy smile. "It was really nice getting to know you better."

Damian nodded, "Do you want to go out with me again?"

You nodded, a flush creeping up your face, "I do."

"Aaaand… would it be okay to kiss you goodnight?"

You giggled, you couldn't help it. He made you feel like a school girl all over again. "Yes."

He smiled and leaned downward, instantly catching your lips with his, giving you a firm but gentlemanly kiss. No tongue. That was interesting, you thought. Most guys just rammed their tongues down your throat, no questions asked. Damian was full of surprises.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Damian."

With that, he made sure you were safe in your room, before turning and going down the hall to his own room.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

At the next show, the following night, you walked to your makeshift office and was surprised–though not deeply–to find JD standing at your door, waiting on you.

"Hi, JD… What can I do for you?"

His eyes seemed to go dark as he answered you, though he kept up a cheerful appearance. "You could let me take ya out t'night."

"I'm sorry, JD, but no." You said softly, reaching around him to unlock your office door. "I have plans tonight. I've just started seeing someone, and I don't want to discourage them by going out with someone else."

You unlocked the door and stepped into your office, but JD ddin't take the hint. He stepped into the office with you and slammed the door shut to your utter shock, and then locked the door.

"JD, get out." You said, trying to sound firm. "Unlock the door and leave."

"Let me guess, d'a mystery man is none other than Damien. Am I right? I saw ya together at d'a restaurant last night."

You tilted your chin up in defiance despite your growing trepidation. "That's none of your business. Now leave, before I scream for help."

Growing enraged, JD stepped forward and swept his hand along the surface of your desk, raking everything to the floor. Then he pounded his fist against the desk, hard. "I asked ya out too! You should be going out with me!"

"I didn't want to," your voice rose in your indignation. "You make my skin crawl!"

JD charged at you then and slapped you right across the cheek. Stunned, you fell across the desk and held your throbbing face in your hand.

"You're so in trouble now," he growled, unbuttoning his dress shirt from the collar, then undoing the wrist's buttons.

Not knowing exactly what he had planned, but not wanting to find out, you screamed, "Help me! Somebody HELLLLP!"

You knew that you were heard when the buzzing outside your door stopped. Suddenly there was a pounding at the door.

"Y/N? Cariña, open the door!"

You rose from the desk to make a mad dash for the door, when JD latched onto your hair. "LET ME GO!"

The door was being pummeled then. "Who's in d'ere wit' her?" You heard Finn Balor faintly from behind the door.

Then Damian, "JD. It has to be. The little…"

JD ignored the bustle outside the door and bent you backward over the desk. Immediately, his mouth was on your neck.

"STOP IT!" You cried loudly, and struggled against him. He yanked your head back by your bangs, severely arching your back, and bit into your neck. You screamed in pain and fought him even more.

The pounding at the door intensified as JD licked where he bit.

"NO!" You screamed and managed to claw JD's face. He let out a furious roar of pain as he punched you square in the jaw.

Your head bounced back from the blow just as the door busted open and Damian and the rest of the Judgeement day and some policemen came bustling into the room.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Damian roared at JD, seeing the predicament you were in.

He lunged at JD and tackled him away from you, his face contorted in his rage.

The police stopped Damian before he could get more than a punch in, but a hard punch nonetheless.

You lay against the desk, scrambling to right yourself and fighting tears as the police handcuffed JD and prepared to drag him away from the scene.

Damian went to you, instantly pulling you into his strong embrace as JD was led away. Your legs weren't strong enough to hold you up and buckled. You fell in a dead faint as he caught you up in his arms, cradling you against his muscled chest. He immediately carried you over to the exam table and laid you on it, settling the pillow underneath your head.

"Despierta, cariña. Estás a salvo ahora." His long fingers traced the already formed bruising at your jaw, rose up to the welt forming on your cheek. He also took note of the bite mark on your neck. "I want to kill him."

"Rhea grabbed a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and handed it to Damian. Finn and Dom fumbled around the medical supplies looking for smelling salts. When they finally located them, they handed them over to Damian as well. He snapped them open and waved them frantically under your nose, willing you to awaken.

You jumped awake and before your eyes even opened, your first instinct was to fight. So you did. You swung your arms out and struck out at anything that was around you.

"Hey, easy now," came Damian's soft voice. His large, warm hands caught your wrists and gently held on. "Easy, baby. You're safe."

You sobbed and latched onto him, hooking your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulled you into a close, intimate hug.

"Shh-shh… You're okay. You're okay now."

"I-I was so scared!" You couldn't stop crying to save your life. You felt another hand rubbing your back comfortingly–probably Rhea.

"I know pequeña, I know. But you're safe now. I won't let him hurt you again. I swear it."

Hunter hurried through the door then. "I just heard about what happened…" His attention turned to you in Damian's arms. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You nodded slightly and snuggled closer into Damian's hold. His chin rested atop your head. "I'm okay now."

The police asked you so many questions your head spun but you managed to answer them all. Then you were finally free to leave and go back to your hotel room. Hunter had given you the rest of the night off–and the rest of the week if you needed it.

You went to move off the table, but Damian kept a hand on your arm to guide you. When you threatened to crumple again, he lifted you up and carried you out of the room, and all the way to his rental. Once he had you settled in the passenger's seat he turned back to the rest of the Judgement Day who'd followed him to his car. "Can one of you guys get my things out of the locker room and take them by my room? I'm staying with Y/N tonight."

Dom nodded in reply and said, "Sure, don't worry. I got this. You go take care of your girl."

With that, Damian got into the driver's seat and drove the two of you back to the hotel.

He carried you inside, and followed your directions as to where your room was. Minutes later, he was settling you on your large bed and was climbing in beside you.

"Is this okay, amor? Do you want me here, or do you want me to sleep on the sofa?"

"Here!" You cried, pulling him against you. "Don't leave me."

"I won't. I'll be right here. Just relax and get some sleep."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, cariña?"

"He'd been hitting on me for weeks. I should have told someone–you. I kept putting him off but he kept asking me out. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"It isn't your fault, sweetie. It was all him. He…has issues. But none of this was your fault."

"Thank you. For being here. For saving me. I don't know what would have happened if you'd not shown up when you did."

A tear spilled out of one of your eyes, and Damian wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "I couldn't let him hurt you." He leaned forward, lightly kissing away your tears. "I could fall in love with you."

His lips trailed down with a feather lightness to your mouth. He captured your lips with his and applied a soft pressure. When you didn't protest, he pulled you even closer and kissed you more deeply, gently slipping his tongue past your lips and tasting your mouth fully. You moaned softly, and encouraged him to continue by curling your fingers into his muscled biceps. Finally, he pulled back, only to find that he couldn't get enough of your taste, and moved in for another kiss. And another. Another.

"I could fall in love with you too," you uttered softly between his kisses that travled down to your neck. He gently kissed the place that JD had bitten so roughly, a show of tenderness.

"He'll never touch you again. Ever."

You smiled softly and snuggled closer against him as sleep overcame you.

THE END

Translations:

"Cariña" ~ "Sweetheart" "Eres tan estúpido!" ~ "You're so stupid!" "Despierta, cariña. Estás a salvo ahora." ~ "Wake up, sweetheart. You're safe now." "Pequeña" ~ "Little one"

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[hausofmamadas]

I've been meaning to reblog the 3 prior parts and have just kept forgetting, so went all out for pt 4 to make up for lost time sldkjfsl so here we go

⥈

This man is trouble.

I only quoted pt 4 bc time reasons but i couldn’t NOT call this out from pt1, bc if this isn’t just the greatest, most accurate and succinct thesis statement about our very own, special, self-destructive snowflake, señor agente de la DEA, Javier Peña 

"Fuck! You uh..you look uh nice, Vanessa."

"Nice?" Chucho says, chuckling in disbelief. "I thought you knew how to talk to women." 

howwwwlingalskjdf at Chucho throughout this whole thing, like this man is under no delusions about who his son is but he still loves him at the same time which he’s just so real for that bc that’s exactly how I feel about Javi askldfjls

But as the next person approaches, I cut them off. "Juan, it's so nice to see you, but we need to sit. These shoes weren't made for real feet," I chuckle and nod my head towards my feet.

Daaaaaang, that’s so fucking savvy using herself as an excuse like that bc it’s lends an air of plausible deniability for javi, like oh, we didn’t stop talking to this person bc I’m wound as tight as a jungle gym screw and my trauma is nearly bursting at the seams, we stopped bc this poor, fragile, sweet lady’s feet are hurting. Also the level of emotional caretaking that she’s doing for him spells codependency and emotional caretaking in a way that, ngl, i’d never agree to irl but that I’m so fictionally fucking here for sdflkjs;la

... and I will myself to not blush and just pretend like I'm focusing on the sermon, the priest now saying something about love and devotion in marriage or..something. 

ASKDJFKSJ NO I’M SNORTING SO MUCH at or…something bc this is legit me at every fucking wedding I’ve ever been to where the ceremony lasts longer than 20 minutes except I don’t even need a traumatized, sexy asf, man-baby-boy’s arm around me inducing the full fledged foray into space cadetry. that’s just actually how much I don’t care about weddings SKDJFKSJDF

His eyes are on me and mine on his, the air between us igniting with something that we felt 6 years ago.

Ngl I feel like … i prob would have a harder time buying the impact that their one-night rendezvous/sexysexytime had on her..? But with the setup of her character and all the context provided like where she came from, the intense Catholicism she and her family have been idk sldkjfs afflicted withsldfkjslakj for lack of a better way of putting it, how sheltered she was when they met, it makes something that might seem far-fetched in a less well-written fic not far-fetched at all

Chucho looks at me and leans in. "He left her though. The day of ... Not one of his best moments. But he was young and scared. And stupid."

SKEJFSKKSFJ FUCKING CHUCHO NREALLY DOESN’T PULL ANY PUNCHES DOES HE

I know you must have had to do some things you aren't proud of in order to catch a very bad man. I can't imagine how that must weigh on you, make you feel like you don't deserve praise. But you worked so hard and they took that ending away from you which was, excuse my language, very fucked up of them and you didn't deserve that no matter what you did ... 

Oh vanessa ………… you beautiful tropical fish

bc i know you’re like so sincere right now but, and I hate to be the one to break it to you … unfortunately, the whole “no matter what you did” part consists of Javi enabling a vigilante paramilitary group to wreak havoc in the streets of Medellin by feeding them classified intel about the DEA’s plans/activities unbeknownst to his fellow officers and the US embassy. OH AND that whole “wreaking havoc” part actually consists said paramilitary group leaving several altars constructed with the severed heads of their “enemies” and strung up with multi-colored christmas lights all around town, with chicken scratch notes denouncing the former owners of said heads as “servile front men” of Pablo Escobar ….. so KSKSJSK sorry girl

"They would've saved me a lot of shit."

"You know that now. But then?"

... "I don't know. I can't say I wouldn't have been disappointed."

NOSTOPPPPPPSLDFKJA;;ALKCACTUALLY STOP BC THE FACT THAT THEY’RE DISCUSSING THIS AS IF IT’S HYPOTHETICAL AND JAVI STILL HASN’T CAUGHT ONSLDKFJLSJ IM ACTUALLY PEELING MY FACE OFF CCACKLING

He scoffs. "It's been 6 years, Vanessa. You haven't fucked anyone in 6 years?" He stops to look at me and sees the truth in my face.

*pinches bridge of nose and sighs* so sorry, ‘scuse me while I just– hold on for one moment, I just need to– sorry, real quick … 

"You didn't give me a fucking choice, Vanessa! Does he even know me?"

"He doesn't know who you are. I told him you were a superhero, fighting a really bad man in another country. And that you'd come back when he was caught."

"You never gave me a choice! I lost all of that time. I lost...FUCK!"

YESYESYESGOODGREATJOBJAVIAMAZINGWAYTOMAKEUPFORALLTHATLOSTTIMEYESEXCELLENTGOODWORKLOVEHOWYOURESOGOODATTHINGSJAVI SDKFJSLKDFJ like, goddd I mean i get it, she should’ve told him bc it is patronizing to someone to presume that you know how they’d respond even though in all likelihood Vanessa is prob 400000000% correct but STILL GODDAMMIT JAVI THIS IS NO WAY TO RESPOND TO THIS WOMAN WHOSE RAISED YOUR KID ALONE FOR 6 YEARS AND WAS SCARED TO TELL YOU BC SHE WAS TRYING TO PUT YOUR FEELINGS AND LOVE OF YOUR CAREER AHEAD OF HER OWN NEEDS

I feel the blood drain from my face. "He's gone?"

Chucho turns, mug in hand and scans my face. "Yeah. I thought he told you? When neither of you returned to the reception, I assumed...well, I thought he'd tell you before he..."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand this is the point we get to in the screamblog where i actually just fliip my mf desk over and scream into a pillow until my vocal chords lose any and all ability to produce sound bc this is appropriately infuriating and also appropriately javi and the two are not at all mutually exclusive

"Listen, Vanessa. I won't give you a lecture. You know my opnion and it's no use retelling you. But he knows now. Javier tends to run from things."

Javier tends to run from things. It’s sooooooooo? True? And sosooososodoosososososodifaposdijf infuriating. also loving the way Chucho kind of says I told you so, without actually saying I told you so like he has every right and he still doesn’t bc he’s a fucking saint

"But what if he's down there another 6 years?"

"Something tells me it won't take him that long to think about things."

*overdramatically pumps shotgun* it better the fuck not, goddammit

"That girl has been through hell, Javi. Don't be the asshole you claimed you wouldn't be."

YESOKAY FUCKING THANK YOU CHUCHO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!@PAS;LKAWIEJ[F I’M LEGIT STANDING UP, HANDS TEARING OUT MY OWN HAIR, SCREAMING AT THIS FIC LIKE A MIDDLE AGED CHAD SCREAMS AT HIS TV WHILE WATCHING THE SUPERBOWL

"What did it cost her?"

"Her parents! Her family, friends, her church. Ours welcomed her with open arms only because I was there to vouch for her. She was shunned from her entire life and still only worried about you.

Chucho must’ve broken some hearts and made some mistakes to be a man and be this wise and god only knows if javi has even a single prayer of being so wise skdjfskl like I love the man, he’s my little nothing pero puede ser tan pinshe mamón que lo juro pordios 

Fuck, he's an idiot.

This is the correct answer

Javier is there, standing in front of me, his chest heaving, a small bead of sweat sliding down his neck and onto his chest, which is slightly exposed by his several undone buttons in his lavender purple, button up shirt.

The Javi gorlies (gn) writing fanfic out here doing the lordt’s work bc I can’t think of another character whose shirts have been so meticulously cataloged and referenced in fics and likewise, I know exactly the shirt this is referring to bc I share this same particular mental affliction SSSKKSKSKSK

Small feet patter across the floor upstairs and make their way down, Alex appearing in the kitchen a moment later, his book still propped open in his hand. "Mom, I was at a really good part!"

🙌🙌 We stan a studious king, we do 🙌🙌

Alex clutches onto him, tears in both of their eyes. "I always dreamed of meeting you! This is the best day of my life!" Javier hugs him tight, fighting back the tears that are quickly gathering in his eyes.

IM SORRY BUT IS THIS WHAT GROWTH?????LOOKS LIKE????????MAYHAPS???????????? CAN WE SEE THE GROWTH????????? No but in all seriousness, I have often wondered if having a family wasn’t the diffs between Steve and Javi when it came to turning to Los Pepes after Carrillo died. Like there is a lot to be said for having someone who both loves and depends on you, waiting back home that might make you tread a little more carefully bc even though Javi had Chucho and there’s clearly so much love there, Chucho’s not dependent on Javi in quite the same way

As we stare out at the river, a boat comes through, obviously carrying illegal items, most likely drugs. Javier stiffens, but then looks around at us. "I'm done. I've done all I can. Now I just want to spend my life with my family."

Wow, yeah honestly that was great, I burned through all 4 parts in one sittings ldkfjsl and as someone who’s really not super into pregnancy or kids in these kinds of fics (it’s no shade at all to domestic-fluff, ’m just not that into domestic with this genre of show/movie for some reason idk i’m weird like that), that’s really saying something. Like there was enough tension and drama that I really found myself so much more engrossed than I tend to be with these sort of themes/tropes and maybe that’s because of the age gap or the recovering Catholicismskldfkjal or just the Chucho of it all but I really dug this so much

Jump Then Fall - Chapter 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”

Word Count: 5000

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Well, we've finally reached the end! I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. I really do love these 2 and would welcome any asks about them! When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30 but in this part, Javier is 36 and Vanessa is 25.

**Shoutout to @vanemando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

--If you like this, please let the algorithm know by reblogging! This way it can be shared with multiple people (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

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Jump Then Fall Masterlist

General Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

<<Chapter 3<<

I don't see him until lunch the next day as he and Chucho had run into town for a few things. They both come in with some grocery bags and set them on the counter.

"They were out of broccoli so I got green beans. Will that work?" Chucho asks as he hands me a bag of fresh cut green beans.

I take them with a smirk. "Why do I get the feeling they weren't out and you just didn't want to eat the broccoli?"

"She's got you there, pops." Javier chuckles as Chucho punches his arm.

"Pendejo."

"Alright, alright. Get cleaned up and I'll make you both some lunch. Extra broccoli for you, old man."

Chucho hides a smile, grumbling as he heads upstairs to his bathroom. Javier stays in the kitchen with me, helping to unload the bags.

"New relaxation thing?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

"What?"

I gesture towards his mouth. "The chewing gum."

"Oh. Nope. Giving up the other one. I'm trying the Nicorette thing."

I close the refrigerator door and look at him. "Really?"

He shrugs. "It's a nasty habit, or so I'm told."

I turn away from him quickly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up at face at his use of my words.

"Well that person must be very smart to say that."

"I think so."

-------

I don't find the time to tell him the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Despite having a lot of chances to. Javier always finds his way to me around the house, chatting and asking me questions. I try to ask him some too, but his eyes grow dark and distant and he shuts in on himself, no doubt recalling the horrors of his time pursuing Escobar. I stop asking.

"Vanessa! We have to go or we'll be late to Danny's wedding!" Chucho yells up the stairs at me, just as I'm putting on my mascara.

"I'll be right down!" I take one last look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress. It was bold, for me anyway. Spaghetti straps and a form fitting dress that stops just above my knee, a lacy slip over top of it all that's long sleeved. It's a dark green color, always one of my favorites. I'm not sure it's entirely wedding appropriate, but it's the only thing that I liked that fit me decent enough. My hair is down and loosely curled and I turn my head back and forth to make sure the bounce had stayed.

I grab my clutch and head downstairs. Chucho stands at the foot of the stairs, smiling at me.

"You look beautiful, Vanessa."

"You're just saying that so I won't make broccoli next week."

He chuckles and gives me a hug. "You caught me. Oh, when's Alex back?"

"Next week."

"Pops, we have to get going or we'll..." Javier comes walking back inside the front door, red flannel shirt tucked into tight jeans that hug his body in all the right ways. He stares at me, his eyes moving up and down my body until Chucho elbows him in the stomach.

"Fuck! You uh..you look uh nice, Vanessa."

"Nice?" Chucho says, chuckling in disbelief. "I thought you knew how to talk to women." He heads out the door, leaving Javier and I standing in the entry.

"You look really..handsome." I manage to choke out at Javier. "Now come on. Your dad will kill us if we're late."

I move to hop in the truck and then realize the stick shift will need to be right between my legs if I wanted to ride in the front.

"I'll get in the back," Javier speaks into my ear.

"No you won't. The bed is dirty and I will not have my son walking into church covered in-"

Javier puts his hands up. "Ok, ok. We'll figure it out."

I get in, taking Javier's offered hand to help me up into the cab. I slide across the bench, looking down at the gear shift as Javier slides in next to me. I try to move my legs but there's nowhere for them to move to.

"Tuck them next to my leg." I look up at Javier, the closest I've been to him since that night.

"Are you s-sure?"

"Yeah. I won't bite." I swear he mumbles "Unless you want me to" under his breath but maybe I'm projecting.

We make it to the church on time. Well, early actually as Chucho wanted "a good seat." We get out of the truck and to my surprise, Javier offers me his arm again. I take it, using him to help me out of the cab, smoothing down my dress when I finally plant my feet on the ground. But he doesn't let go, doesn't drop my arm, letting me choose if I wanted to hold onto him or not. I link my arm further in his, noting the small smile he's fighting to contain on his face.

I am very glad I chose to hold onto him. Not just because his touch is electrifying my body, but because the ground in the dirt parking lot is very uneven, the last rainstorm having put in several large potholes and what feels like millions of smaller ones. Javier saved me from falling right in the mud more than a few times. When we finally make it to the pavement, he still doesn't drop my arm, looking down at me with raised eyebrows, silently asking me what I'd like to do.

"Oh no. I'm attached now. If you let me go, I'll fall on my butt I know it."

He chuckles and covers my hand with his large one, engulfing mine. "I got you, baby."

We say our hello's to everyone as we enter and I feel Javier tense next to me at the amount of attention he's starting to receive. Many people wanting to shake his hand and tell them how proud they are of him, that he's a hero. He smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes, and thanks them, shaking their hands with his free one. This happens several times on our way to the pew Chucho wanted and after the third time, I place my free hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. I can feel him relax into me slightly as the man in front of us thanks him yet again. But as the next person approaches, I cut them off.

"Juan, it's so nice to see you, but we need to sit. These shoes weren't made for real feet," I chuckle and nod my head towards my feet. "I swear if Javier weren't escorting me I'd be taking these things off or fallen on my rear end by now."

"Oh! Yeah go sit. See you later, Javs!"

We finally make it to our row and Javier gestures for me to go ahead. I make my way in, sitting down as Javier slides in next to me.

"Hey, thanks." He speaks quietly so only I can hear him.

"Yeah of course. Anytime."

Shortly after, the ceremony starts and Javier places his arm across the pew behind me and I will myself to not blush and just pretend like I'm focusing on the sermon, the priest now saying something about love and devotion in marriage or..something. I have no clue as I feel Javier stretch a little and slide a little closer to me in the pew, our hips almost touching.

The reception was beautiful, music starting up a bit later while everyone was eating. We finish eating and Javier turns to me, mischief in his eyes.

"Dance with me?" His hand is outstretched towards me and I take it without hesitation.

"Do you know how?" I ask as he pulls me to my feet.

"Do you?"

"Fair question."

He escorts me onto the dance floor, placing his hand confidently on my hip, the other taking my hand. The music starts and he spins us around, our feet moving together to the beat. His eyes are on me and mine on his, the air between us igniting with something that we felt 6 years ago.

That realization jolts me back to the present and I move my head next to his, looking over his shoulder. I really need to tell him. I catch sight of a blonde woman, about Javier's age, giving me a really nasty look. But then the songs ends and Javier pulls back.

"Thirsty?"

"Yeah."

We head back to the table and sit, several more people coming up to shake Javier's hand and tell him how proud they were, that he's a hero, all of it. I can see that far away look in his eyes, like he's here but not here. His eyes lock on something across the room and he leans towards Chucho and me.

"I'll be right back."

I watch him walk across the room towards the blonde woman who had given me such a nasty look earlier.

"Who is that?" I lean over to Chucho, nodding towards them. He glances up before looking back down at his plate of food.

"Lorraine. His ex."

"Oh. They serious?"

He takes a bite of his food and chews. "They were. But that was maybe 10 years ago?"

"Hhm.. how serious?"

"Well, they were going to get married."

"Oh."

Chucho looks at me and leans in. "He left her though. The day of."

"The day of...the wedding??"

"Not one of his best moments. But he was young and scared. And stupid."

I look over at them, a man now walking up to them and putting his arm around Lorraine.

"Well she seems to have done alright."

"Yeah. Married some banker or real estate guy or something. Seems happy. Couple of kids."

"Should you have told me this?"

Chucho gestures around at the room. "Everyone here was there that day. They all know. It's not a secret."

I nod, turning to look back at them when I see Javier turn, his hand doing that thing where it opens and closes, his bottom lip worrying slightly into his teeth. He stops a few steps away from Lorraine and looks back, watching as she picks up her kids and animatedly talks to them. When he turns back around, his face is full of regret and want, but I don't know if it's about her or the kids, his almost family. He walks through the room and out the back door.

"I'll be right back."

I get up and cross the room, heading out the door Javier did. I look around and see him sitting on a bench under a tree several feet out from the reception room. He pulls out some gum from his pocket and stuffs it in his mouth, his jaw chewing furiously. I walk up to him and he looks up at me, his eyes sad.

"Can I sit?" I ask, gesturing to the space next to him on the bench. He nods at the space, leaning back to put his arm across the back of the bench behind me.

"Thank you," I say to him after several moments.

He looks at me. "For what?"

"For...everything. I know you must have had to do some things you aren't proud of in order to catch a very bad man. I can't imagine how that must weigh on you, make you feel like you don't deserve praise. But you worked so hard and they took that ending away from you which was, excuse my language, very fucked up of them and you didn't deserve that no matter what you did, and I just....thank you."

His eyes bore into mine, shifting emotions behind them. Anger, regret, fear, disappointment in himself, disbelief, but then something else. Something softer as he focuses on me. His hand comes up to cup my face and I lean into it, loving the feel of his calloused hands on my skin. He leans in towards me, his eyes shifting down to my lips, his breath fanning out over my face.

"Wait. I have to tell you something, Javier."

"Can you tell me after we make out?"

Can I? No. No, Vanessa.

"I really think I need to tell you first."

He pulls back and it looks like it costs him a ton of effort, just like it did me to tell him to stop. He puts his hand on his lap and watches me, waiting for me to continue.

"Do you remember when I told you that Alex's dad had important things to do? And you thought he was giving me a line?"

He nods. "Yeah..."

"What if...what if that were you?"

He furrows his eyebrows together, confused. "If what were me?"

"If you had gone off to Colombia or were going off and you found out you'd gotten some girl pregnant?"

"I would have come home or not gone."

"Yeah, but wouldn't you resent them just a little for robbing you of this opportunity?"

He scoffs. "They would've saved me a lot of shit."

"You know that now. But then?"

He thinks for a moment. "I don't know. I can't say I wouldn't have been disappointed."

"Don't you think your kid would pick up on that?"

"I...I don't know. I didn't consider....Vanessa?"

I swallow down the tears that are fighting to escape my body. "Yeah?"

"How old is Alex?"

I take a deep breath and look him in the eyes. "6."

It takes him a few moments, probably doing the math in his head. But then his eyes widen and he pulls his arm from around me, scooting back a little.

"6?"

"Yeah."

He shifts on the bench. "Is he...who's his dad?"

I can't help the one tear that falls from my eyes. "Y-you are."

He looks at me before abruptly standing, pacing back and forth, his hand on his hip and the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm his dad? Me? Are you sure?"

"I've only ever been with you."

He scoffs. "It's been 6 years, Vanessa. You haven't fucked anyone in 6 years?" He stops to look at me and sees the truth in my face.

"I've gone on some dates, but nothing ever happened."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I can only tell you the truth, I can't make you believe it."

He laughs angrily, finally stopping in front of me, glaring down at me.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"I-"

"Did you not think I deserved to know?"

"I-I-"

"I would have stayed for you! I-"

I stand up and he backs up a couple steps. "That's exactly why!"

"What?"

"You would've hated us if you stayed. You would've resented it. You just said you'd be disappointed. You don't think we wouldn't have picked up on that?"

"You didn't give me a fucking choice, Vanessa! Does he even know me?"

"He doesn't know who you are. I told him you were a superhero, fighting a really bad man in another country. And that you'd come back when he was caught."

Javier hesitates a moment. "You never gave me a choice! I lost all of that time. I lost...FUCK! I can't even look at you!" He turns and walks away, past the parking lot and into the street, heading towards town.

I call after him but it's no use. I collapse onto the bench, my head in my hands, finally letting the tears out that I'd been holding back for so long.

-------

The next morning, I set at the kitchen island, a mug of hot coffee clutched between my cold hands as I wait for Javier. I hear the sounds of someone moving down the stairs and I sit up straighter, but Chucho enters the kitchen. I feel my face fall as he looks at me.

"I know I'm not a looker but-"

"Sorry, Chucho. I was expecting.." my voice trails off and he cocks his head.

"Javi? He left."

I sit bolt upright. "Left?"

Chucho pours himself a mug of coffee. "Yeah for Cali. Didn't he tell you? He was going to tell you last night that he was heading back. It was sort of a secret but I told him you'd probably notice if you were no longer sharing a bathroom."

I feel the blood drain from my face. "He's gone?"

Chucho turns, mug in hand and scans my face. "Yeah. I thought he told you? When neither of you returned to the reception, I assumed...well, I thought he'd tell you before he..."

Tears fall wet and hard from my already puffy face. Chucho looks alarmed but sets his mug down and pulls me to him, letting me soak his shirt as he makes calming sounds at me.

"I told him, Chucho. I told him about Alex," My speech is muffled but he hears it all the same.

"What happened?"

I tell him the entire conversation, how Javier just stormed off and how I expected to see him this morning, to apologize and tell him he doesn't have to be involved, that I can move out to make it easier. Chucho waves me off with that last one. "I would never make you move out. Javi doesn't cook nearly as good as you."

I give him a small smile, my shoulders still shaking from sobbing.

"Listen, Vanessa. I won't give you a lecture. You know my opnion and it's no use retelling you. But he knows now. Javier tends to run from things."

"So we're his latest Lorraine?"

Chucho cocks his head, thinking. "I doubt that very much. You're not Lorraine. He looks at you differently."

"Looked. I doubt he'll even want to see me again."

"Mm...let's just give him space, ok?"

"But what if he's down there another 6 years?"

"Something tells me it won't take him that long to think about things."

-------

Javier

It had been a month since Vanessa told him he has a kid. That he has a 6 year old son he knew nothing about, knew nothing about him. Except that he's a hero. Which is a lie.

The Cali Cartel had another 5 months before they would be "turning themselves in", which was a big joke. He had to catch them before the time was up so they could face actual justice and not this fake, bureaucratic bullshit.

He's tried to resort back to his old ways of dealing, burying himself in a woman. But when he tried to, he couldn't bring himself to do anything, let alone sleep with them. It was everything he could do to not pick up a cigarette, but his patience was wearing thin.

He tried not to think about Vanessa and her confession. But when the work day was over, and he went back to his penthouse the government provided, his brain would play that conversation over and over in his head. At first, he continued to remain livid, that she had denied him the choice of knowing his family, being with his kid. But then his dad's words echoed in his mind, the call coming the day he landed in Cali.

"That girl has been through hell, Javi. Don't be the asshole you claimed you wouldn't be."

"She didn't tell me I had a kid, dad. A kid! Who does that?"

"She was only thinking about you! This whole time, she was worried about your wellbeing. She didn't want you distracted or resentful, even if it cost her everything."

"What did it cost her?"

"Her parents! Her family, friends, her church. Ours welcomed her with open arms only because I was there to vouch for her. She was shunned from her entire life and still only worried about you. Don't be such a stubborn asshole."

He thought about Vanessa, so young and pregnant, trying to figure out how to tell her strict parents she was expecting despite not being married. Them kicking her out, closing her off from all of her friends and family, anyone who would support her. Her finding the strength and will to drive all the way back to Loredo to try and find him and discovering he would be away for an indefinite amount of time. What would he do in that situation? Run away from it, probably. Which she didn't have the option of doing.

He takes a swig of his drink, the ice cubes clunking against his top lip. He wants to meet his kid, Alex. Wants to tell him that the bad guy was caught and that he's back. Would he be back? It's probably good Alex doesn't know who he is, in case something happens to him here. But if he gets to go home, he knows he wants to be in his life.

What about Vanessa? Will she let him in their lives? Javier is pretty sure she will, even with the way he left. But what about her? If he's honest with himself, truly honest, when he looks past the anger, he sees her big eyes, the freckles on her cheeks, the sass she gives him in her quiet manner. And he thinks, no. He knows. He knows he loves her. He thinks she loves him. If she didn't, surely she would've told him long ago, not caring about his well being. But she had been so adamant about not telling him, wanting him to be safe.

He crosses his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fuck, what was he doing? Granted he signed up to go back to Cali when they called him in, assuming that if he didn't they would throw him in prison. But honestly, he was ready to come back and actually be here when they get the bad guys. But then Vanessa came back into his life and now a kid.

Fuck, he's an idiot.

-------

Vanessa

6 months. It had been 6 months since Javier stormed out and ran away to Cali. Ok, run away was harsh as he went there for work, agreeing to it long before he knew I was here. But he hadn't called and I took that as a sign, no matter how many times Chucho said it doesn't mean anything because he doesn't call him either. He gets too caught up in his work.

It's the start of summer, the windows are open to get a cross breeze coming through the house. I do miss the ac back home, but I'll take Chucho's home over the one I grew up in any day, heat or no.

Alex got a new book and I hadn't seen him for a couple hours as he's spent them in his room, devouring the latest in his series. He did come out once, nose buried in the book, to ask me for a snack.

I finish washing his cup, setting it on the rack to dry. I stare out the little window over the sink, watching Chucho putter about between the barn and the shed, thinking about the animals and how hot it's going to get out there. I know they're used to it, but still. I'' have to get some extra ice trays at the store so I can throw some more in their water troughs. Chucho says that's why they all like me so much.

Suddenly, I hear heavy steps on the wood floor behind me, much heavier than Alex's. I spin, my hand gripping the cast iron pan that was sitting there. But when I fully turn, I nearly drop the pan.

Javier is there, standing in front of me, his chest heaving, a small bead of sweat sliding down his neck and onto his chest, which is slightly exposed by his several undone buttons in his lavender purple, button up shirt.

"Javier, I-"

"Sshh. I'm sorry."

"What?"

He takes a few steps towards me. "I never should have just left. I at least should've told you about Cali."

"No. I'm sorry. I should've told-"

He's only a couple steps from me now. "No, it's ok. I understand. You were thinking about your family. About how it would affect even me. you did what you had to do."

This was not what I expected. He reaches for the pan, still clutched in my hand. He takes it and sets it on the counter behind me, leaning close to me. He looks down at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek and I inhale sharply at the sensation.

"You're so brave and I'm a fucking idiot."

"You have every right-"

He pulls me to him, gently pressing his lips to mine, giving me time and space to stop him. But what he doesn't know is his touch has sent me spiraling, spinning away into the sky. And when his tongue slides into my mouth, my body trembles slightly, my hand coming up to mindlessly grab onto his arm. But then he pulls back, staring into my eyes.

"I'm in love with you."

My stomach lurches, a thousand butterflies being released in my body at his words. Love? He loves me? I never thought I'd hear those words from anyone, let alone the man I've loved since I was 19. The reason none of my dates every worked out.

"And it's ok if you don't-"

"I love you too."

He smiles, a real smile that lights up even his eyes, both of his hands now cupping my face. "Really?"

"Why do you think none of those dates ever worked out? It was always you, Javi."

He kisses me more passionately now, his hand leaving my face to grip my hip, pulling me against him. I feel him through his tight jeans, pressing into me and I groan a little in his mouth.

"Fuck, you're so intoxicating. It was killing me not to kiss you."

"Mmm." Is all I can manage to say. But then I remember we're not alone, not this time.

"Do you want to meet him?"

Javier pulls his face back from mine. "He's here?"

I nod. "Yeah. Reading, upstairs."

He shifts, tugging on his pants. "Hell yeah I want to meet him. But uh, give me a sec?"

I glance down and chuckle. "Maybe I can help you with that later?"

He groans. "You aren't helping any now."

He turns and walks out the back door and I see him say hi to his dad, embracing him. Chucho watches him for a moment and then a smile appears and he claps him on the shoulder. I can only assume he's telling him he's going to meet Alex. Javier comes back inside, taking a deep breath.

"Ok, I think I'm ready."

"Alex! Can you come downstairs for a minute?"

Small feet patter across the floor upstairs and make their way down, Alex appearing in the kitchen a moment later, his book still propped open in his hand.

"Mom, I was at a really good part!"

"Alex, I have someone I want you to meet."

"Can it wait?"

I kneel down to get on his level, his eyes, so like Javier's, staring back at me, sensing the seriousness.

"Alex, meet your dad, Javier."

Slowly he turns, looking up at Javier who waves at him awkwardly. "Hey, kiddo. I uh, got the bad guy. I'm sorry it took me so long."

Alex continues to stare at him for a moment. Then he throws his precious book to the floor, running full out towards Javier, who throws his arms out at the last minute as Alex leaps into them, nearly knocking him over.

"Dad? It's really you?"

"It really is."

Alex clutches onto him, tears in both of their eyes. "I always dreamed of meeting you! This is the best day of my life!"

Javier hugs him tight, fighting back the tears that are quickly gathering in his eyes. "This is the best day of my life too, son."

-------

2 years later...

I load up the old tractor with a couple of picnic baskets, 4 large thermos full of homemade lemonade next to them. I close the back and carefully hop up, driving slowly across the property, a smile on my face. After a while, I pull up to the 3 men in my life: Chucho trying to carry wood by himself, Javi yelling at him as he runs to help him, and Alex, hammering away at a spare piece of wood. They were at the back end of the property repairing a downed section of fence. Javier sees me pull up and he rushes over, offering me his hand to help me down.

"I wish you hadn't driven this thing."

"Well if I walked, it would've been dinner by the time I brought your lunch."

"Mom! Watch me!" Alex starts hammering on a piece of wood Chucho had laid in the ground, Javier moving to help him pound it in further.

"My strong man!"

"Son, gather up the tools and put them in the box. We're taking a break for lunch."

Alex starts to look around for the tools as Javier turns back to me. He wraps his arm around me and leans in to kiss me, sliding his tongue over my bottom lip.

"Now now none of that. That made this happen," I rest my hand on my enlarged belly as Javier leans down, planting a kiss to my stomach before standing back up. He leans close to my ear.

"I plan on putting as many kids in you as you'll let me."

I slap his chest, but the thought warms me. "Let's just see how these 2 go first, yeah?"

He smiles at me, kissing me again before lifting Alex into the back of the trailer, helping me to set up the picnic lunches I had made for all of them. As we stare out at the river, a boat comes through, obviously carrying illegal items, most likely drugs. Javier stiffens, but then looks around at us.

"I'm done. I've done all I can. Now I just want to spend my life with my family."

-------

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk  

[dangermousie]

Mousie’s absolutely subjective, very biased Top 10 web novels list

Please note that this is hardly aiming to be objective, if one can even be properly objective about a work of fiction. It is 110% based on my preferences, which means this list is heavy on the angst and has nothing set in the modern day. It is also heavily danmei-centric, even though I read way more het romance than danmei, because for whatever reason, most of the danmei I’ve read has been insanely good.

10. Return of the Swallow - one of the two non-danmeis on this list. Smart and nuanced and with a large cast of characters. Our heroine is a long-lost daughter of the family that is brought back in and has to cope with familial struggles, crazy royals, court intrigue, invasion et al. It’s SO GOOD! There is romance with the sexy smart enemy general but honestly, it’s the heroine that is the main selling point for me.

9. Transmigrator Meets Reincarnator - the only other non-danmei novel on this list, this was my very first web novel and what drew me into this insanity. This is just a ton of fun, probably the lightest novel on this list, not an ounce of angst to be found. But it’s hilarious and features competent heroine and tsundere hero and I will always love it for opening a new world to me. Anyway, our heroine transmigrates into the novel as the female lead. Unlike the original lead though she doesn’t want to seek adventures and angst - she just wants to comfortably live with the wealthy, nice husband heroine has. Alas, said husband is no longer nice since he has previously lived this story where he was betrayed by FL and then transmigrated/reincarnated into the past. Oh well, the heroine opens up businesses and makes friends. And eventually, her husband realizes his wife is way different this time around. This actually doesn’t have much romance, not until close to the end, but this is so fun I don’t care.

8. Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

7. Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (MDZS) - oh come on, how are you even on this tumblr if you don’t know MDZS/The Untamed? This was my very first danmei and it’s so much fun! I love everything about it - the unreliable narrator, the looping structure, the main OTP, Wei Wuxian’s laidback, traumatized insouciance, everything. Anyway, the plot in the event you somehow transported here from 2005 is that the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Wei Wuxian, was defeated by the righteous sects over a decade ago and fell of a cliff to his death. Only now that same Wei Wuxian opens his eyes in another body and everything that was supposed to stay in the past starts again.

6. Heaven Official’s Blessing (TGCF) - people either love its meandering narrative, picaresque structure and cast of thousands, or find it a detriment compared to much more compact MDZS. I love it even more than MDZS for those very qualities. It does have a rock-solid, darling OTP, but what really elevates it to me are the MXTX trademark combo of snarky/light tone hiding a ton of trauma underneath, the insanely intricate world-building, and what it has to say about the nature of grace and goodness. Xie Lian is one of my top 5 web novel characters and probably in top 10 from anywhere. Oh, and while MXTX’s stuff is not as angsty for me as Meatbun’s or even Priest’s, there are always exceptions, and there is one chapter in this novel that pretty much broke me and sometimes I still flashback to it and feel unwell.

Anyway, what is it about? There is a commotion in the heavenly realm - Xie Lian, the Crown Prince of a long-destroyed kingdom, has ascended to Godhood. That in itself is not so exciting. However for Xie Lian this is the third time (!!!!) as he’s ascended and lost his godhood twice prior. And now, the biggest joke of the divine realm is back, throwing the heavenly realm into chaos. And elsewhere, Hua Cheng, one of the four most powerful demons of that Universe, sits up and takes notice.

5. Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is also finding the middle path between their two very different philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

4. Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

3. To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant, sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two take up farming, get involved in the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

2. Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

1. The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

[bluegoesbloop]

larry stylinson fic recs masterlist

Masterpost

Works: 11

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: None of these fics have been written by me and some may include potentially triggering topics. I have done my best to include all necessary extra information, but if I have missed something please let me know. Also, some of these works are written about topics that are problematic, for example: underage, shipping real life people, step siblings, etc. Please remember that these are all works of fiction and most of these ‘problematic fics’ are written and read as a way to cope with trauma, or to purge oneself of a hyperfixation, so use your own judgement when clicking on them, and do not send hate to either the authors or me. I have included some of these writings in the lists to help other people who may be looking for a safe outlet for their thoughts, if you do not like it please just skip over it.

Click 'Keep Reading' ↓

I've Kissed Honey Lips (Felt The Healing In The Fingertips)

@/loveroflou - ao3 - 36,195 words - 1/1 chapter(s)

Carefully, Zayn starts, “You do know Niall wasn’t joking about him being unstable, right?” Louis opens his mouth to cut him off, but Zayn continues, “He might not have done anything yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t, or won’t.”

“You don’t know him,” Louis tries, because it’s true. The only problem is that Louis doesn’t really know Harry, either.

or, the raisin cookie fic

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION] : smut, mild a/b/o, alpha!louis, omega!harry, feminine!harry

✰ PERSONAL FAVOURITE

The Sovereign and the Sorcerer

@/Jennifer_Kaid - ao3 - 22,615 words - 1/1 chapter(s)

The silhouette of the person barely gave away his features. He could make out a tall frame, strength packing around his body like an armour. The scent hit him next, a thoroughbred alpha, Louis bared his teeth in warning. He would bite if this man tried to touch him.

"I suppose you are hungry," an amused voice regarded him, his accent giving away that he was from enemy lands, not that Louis needed any more confirmation than the situation he was currently in. "I brought some food and water," the stranger elaborated.

Louis rolled his eyes, tugging the chains to make them rattle, "I don't suppose you would be letting me out of these chains."

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: smut, prince!harry, sorcerer!louis

Pretty Boy

@/iwillpaintasongforlou - ao3 - 32,635 words - 1/1 chapter(s)

Harry's been forced into a high-class prostitution ring because his heroin-addicted mother is too strung out to realize that her boyfriend is pimping out her son. Louis is the crown prince of England and gets into a lot of mischief and thinks it's normal to pay prostitutes to "get a good night's sleep." They probably aren't meant to see each other beyond that one random night, but then again, they probably aren't meant to see each other at all.

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: smut, prince!louis, prostitute!harry

✰ PERSONAL FAVOURITE

Seaside Improvisation

@/tinyweirdloves - ao3 - 6,151 words - 1/1 chapter(s)

“I’m not from here,” Harry says. He’s silent for the space of a breath. “I’m from… I’m from under.” He stares right at Louis like he’s willing him to understand. Louis looks back at him, confused. A tiny crease forms between Harry’s eyebrows. “Under,” he repeats stubbornly, and Louis’s struck by how young he looks in that moment.

“Under where?” he says, and Harry looks at him like he can’t figure him out.

“The water,” Harry says, like it should be obvious. “The sea.”

[harry is a mermaid who has lost his tail and he lives in louis's bathtub for a month.]

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: no smut, mermaid!harry

Pretty please (with sugar on top)

@/angelichl - ao3 - 113,663 words - 3/3 chapter(s)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: smut, a/b/o, soulmates, sugar baby!harry

Hate Me To The Moon

@/harrystylesand stuff - ao3 - 83,616 words, 8/8 chapter(s)

The last thing Harry wanted was to spend his entire summer stuck with his dad's new fiancée and her kids. He wants no more when he learns she's a very religious dictator, raising a sixteen year old nun and a clean cut potential priest ass kisser.

Everything takes a slightly different turn, however, when Harry finds out his future step-brother is actually the rude stranger he caught sucking off a guy in a pub, far from the reserved Christian his mom thinks he is...

AU where Harry is a sexy nerd, Louis is a great actor, and they both pretend to hate each other's guts to convince themselves they're not feeling things future step-brothers shouldn't feel...

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: smut, larry are stepbrothers

Colour Me Bubblegum Pink

@/loveroflou - ao3 - 5,817 words, 1/1 chapter(s)

Louis tightens his hands around his waist, pulling him closer to kiss him deeper, licking the shy smile right off Harry’s lips.

Softly, Harry hums into the kiss, his fingers curling instinctively in Louis’ chestnut hair. It’s hard to remember they’re just friends when Harry’s making pleased little sounds in the back of his throat that Louis leans all that much closer to swallow, his eyelashes fluttering bashfully against Louis’ cheeks.

or, teaching harry how to kiss was never supposed to be a thing, but his lips are plush and red bitten and his eyes are large and glossy, and louis’ only human

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: n/a

Rogue

@/laventrioque - ao3 - 94,992 words, 48/48 chapter(s)

Werewolf AU 'cause there aren't enough already :)

“No, Liam! How many times do I have to… before you finally… NO WAY … a rogue in our pack?… cannot trust him … don’t care to know him … have enough members to worry about.”

He hears more indistinct shouts before he hears pretty clearly: “His own pack didn’t want him!”

Sitting here, his precious bag between his feet and everyone in the room looking at him, some with pity, some with disdain, some with curiosity, Louis feels like someone squeezed his heart in their hands and isn’t letting it go. He wills his head to stay up high and his posture to stay confident. He will not flee the room. He will not let that stupid lump in his throat get the better of him. He will stay here until Liam returns. He will take the rejection in stride and move on. Like he’s been doing all his life."

--

Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindest one he's ever met.

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: smut, werewolf au, a/b/o, alpha!harry, omega!louis, background zayn/liam/niall

chasing the sun

@/alifeofourown - ao3 - 4,938 words, 1/1 chapter(s)

Louis doesn’t want to be buzzed or even somewhat drunk. No, he wants to be so smashed that he can’t even remember what his name is. He wants to be at the point where he wakes up ten hours later and is still having trouble placing the simplest thoughts.

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: n/a

As School Boys From Their Books

@/colazitron - ao3 - 7,333 words, 1/1 chapter(s)

It's January and Louis's on his last school trip to Manchester. He meets Harry.

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: smut, underage, 15y/o!harry, 18y/o!louis

Sun Kissed Hurricane, Perfect Storm

@/iwillpaintasongforlou - ao3 - 7,692 words, 1/1 chapter(s)

Harry is the quiet kid in the back of his statistics class who writes a lot and dreams about Louis’ cheekbones . Louis needs a statistics tutor ASAP before he flunks and the quiet kid in the back of the class seems like a good choice. Harry wants to help Louis however he can and Louis wants to see how much he can make Harry blush.

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]: nerd!harry, punk!louis, louis has adhd

[dynamics-of-an-asteroid]

Dont suppose you have a copy of the interview you could share?

For you, dear anon~

His Dark Materials: Andrew Scott on life after Fleabag and Sherlock

We’ve loved him as both Fleabag’s Hot Priest and Sherlock’s menacing Moriarty. Now, he’s back on our screens in the new series of His Dark Materials. Polly Vernon talks to our TV crush

Andrew Scott is mortified. The actor – formerly Moriarty to Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, then the Hot Priest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag, imminently Colonel John Parry in the BBC’s adaptation of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials – arrives at the photographic studio, bang on the appointed hour, in a fawn cashmere cardigan with a fine gold chain around his neck, bemoaning “this terrible, terrible eye infection, which is making me so self-conscious. I’m so sorry. It isn’t that you’ve massively upset me before we’ve even started. It’s so annoying. But anyway…”

Scott, 44, is small, vivid, wiry and garrulously Irish, with a face that is not handsome so much as mesmerising, intense, sharply boned, symmetrical, startlingly expressive. Sequences of emotions so subtle and complicated that I can’t begin to identify or keep up with them ruffle his brow from moment to moment. And, yup, the whole thing is rather disrupted by his left eye. This is no light kiss of conjunctivitis. It’s a swollen, red, perma-weeping situation that engulfs the whole socket. Scott turns his face two thirds on to me, so the infection is largely hidden, which would probably help if we weren’t sitting in a brightly lit hair and make-up room with a massive, inescapable mirror fixed to one wall. “Oh God,” Scott says every time he catches sight of his reflection.

Stress?

“Let’s be honest,” he says. “Let’s not skirt around the issue. It’s being overworked and…” Scott’s eye begins weeping. “Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. Really, really very sorry.”

Wanna wear my sunglasses, I ask, holding them out to him.

“That would be a bit more weird, wouldn’t it? I actually did think about that in the taxi, but I thought that would be some sort of weird and screwed Invisible Man-type thing. I mean, it couldn’t be worse. And then we have to go and get our photograph taken. It’ll be one of those pictures where, you know, those creepy pictures… Of people crying?”

That’s what Photoshop’s for, I say.

“Anyway. Let’s just ignore it.”

I wonder if it’s particularly hard to walk around with an eye infection at a point in time where you’re not merely famous, as Scott is – a star of stage, screen and Bond film, winner of multiple awards, including, as of barely two weeks ago, a Best Actor Olivier for Present Laughter at the Old Vic – but specifically famous for being sexy.

In 2019, Andrew Scott became synonymous with, well, sex. While playing a character technically known as the Priest, whom the general public instantly renamed the Hot Priest, the spiritual support turned transgressive love interest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s supremely popular Fleabag, Scott became a cypher for the nation’s more exotic desires. A deliciously contentious pin-up. Ground zero on an earnest social media debate about whether the Priest’s relationship with Fleabag should be considered abusive, power imbalanced, “problematic”. And that was just for starters.

The Priest’s sexual iconography extended far beyond the limits of the show, becoming the subject of internet memes and real-life merchandise (visit online retailer Etsy for your £12 Hot Priest mug emblazoned with an illustration of Scott in priest’s robes, alongside the word “kneel”, a reference to a pivotal moment between the show’s lead characters, which takes place in a confession box, the climax of which, assuming you haven’t already seen it, you could probably take a stab at). There was an unprecedented upsurge in young worshippers, and women started bombarding social media “influencer” the Rev Chris Lee of west London with nude photographs. There was much foetid fan fiction.

To be publicly defined by so much sex, as Scott still is, a year and a half after Fleabag concluded, and then to be encumbered by something as visibly unsexy as an eye infection, I can see how that might make a chap self-conscious.

Scott isn’t here to rake up all that old Hot Priest stuff, mind. He’s here to talk about the second series of His Dark Materials, a lush, expensive fantasy drama based on the Philip Pullman books, jewel in the crown of the BBC’s autumn schedule. The series was filmed through 2019 and the beginning of 2020 and had all but wrapped before lockdown. Good timing, as it turned out, because the extensive post-production processes, unlike shooting, could be completed in isolation.

Scott’s Colonel John Parry is an explorer, the missing father of the central character, 14-year-old Will Parry. He’s a man who slipped into a parallel universe some years earlier, acquired a “daemon” – an exterior animal-formed expression of his soul, a female osprey called Sayan Kötör, voiced with public-pleasing symmetry by Phoebe Waller-Bridge – and never found a way back to “our” world and his son. I speak as a fan of the books, which you might describe as a darker, existential response to Harry Potter, although honestly? They’re better than that. The show is great, a deft, rewarding interpretation, and Scott is an exciting prospect as Parry.

Did he jump at the part?

“I did, actually. It was definitely something I was into. We were doing a play and it seemed like a fun thing to do.” Scott is one of those who slips into the third person when speaking about himself in a professional capacity.

Had he read the books?

“Yeah,” he says. “I think they’re extraordinary. The truth, but told on a slant. I love the way Pullman tells children about spirituality or religion in such an extraordinary, intelligent way. He doesn’t speak down to them. He talks to children’s souls.”

Given that Pullman effectively kills off God through the course of the books and Scott’s a lapsed Irish Catholic who has suffered his share of shame on account of the church’s grip on his homeland (more on which shortly), I’d imagine Pullman’s books talked to Scott’s adult soul too.

Presumably, he didn’t have to audition. Presumably, he never has to. Too famous for auditions?

“No,” he says. “Although I’ve always thought auditioning is a pretty good thing to do.”

Why?

“Because you’re able to understand, ‘Oh, this is the vibe here.’ You think, when you’re an actor, you don’t have much choice, but I’ve always felt like auditioning is a good opportunity for you to go, ‘Oh well, I don’t much like you either. I think you’re dreadful!’ ”

I don’t care that you didn’t give me that part?

“Yeah.” Scott becomes playfully, theatrically defiant. “I don’t care!” He flicks aside an imaginary rejection with a churlish hand.

Will John Parry and His Dark Materials be enough to eliminate all residual overtones of Hot Priest sexiness from Scott? Maybe. He is a fine actor, no question, entirely transformed from role to role. I saw him play Paul, a narcissistic, fame-addled touring rock star, at the Royal Court in 2014 in Simon Stephens’ Birdland, back when his deeply sinister Moriarty weighed almost as heavily on Scott’s reputation as the Hot Priest does now. I’d watched him become someone else entirely on stage. “Oh, you saw that?” Scott says, pleased.

I quote, “Am I cancer?” at him, his defining line from the play, as evidence.

“Oh Jesus. Oh f***ing hell. Oh my. I’d forgotten that line. ‘Am I cancer?’ ”

The Hot Priest association hasn’t left him yet, which is why I find myself asking what it’s like to be the very definition of sexiness.

“You get invited to more parties.”

Better parties?

“Yeah.”

Better than during his Moriarty phase?

“Definitely.”

It must be fun to find yourself le dernier cri in sexy, according to the whole nation.

“Yeah, that’s fun,” he says. “I didn’t really like being associated with scary. It’s not what I’m interested in being, in life, being intimidating to people. It’s not part of my nature, whereas being sexy to people…”

That is part of his nature?

“Well, they’re very different things.”

They’re both about having power over people.

“I suppose they are, yes.”

So did Scott, bored of scaring people, say to Phoebe Waller-Bridge, writer and star of Fleabag and a long-term friend (they met in 2009 while starring in Roaring Trade at the Soho Theatre), “Write a role for me that will make everyone think I’m just really, really sexy now”?

“That’s such a good belt. Are they two ‘Gs’?”

“Exactly.”

——————————

Andrew Scott is not the easiest interview. He’s utterly charming. Really, just a delight. In between prostrating himself for the offence of his eye and apologising for not turning up the first time we were scheduled to meet (ten days earlier; a delayed Covid test result meant he couldn’t make it), he ensures I have a good time in his company. He is playful. He makes me laugh. His every utterance is delivered as a grand performance. (“Shhhh! Just… Shhhh!” he implores, placing a finger against his lips while expressing frustrations over the mindless jabber of social media, and he does it so powerfully, he compels me to be quiet, breathlessly to await delivery of his next line.) He finds elegant ways to flatter me. He laughs at my jokes and is terribly taken with my belt.

Yeah. For Gucci.

“Oh. Ha ha! I thought it was the Golden Globes. I love the Golden Globes. Ha ha!”

And of course, he’s Irish. Clichédly, melodiously Irish, which makes everything sound softer and jollier than it might otherwise.

As for the actual business of being interviewed, of answering straight questions with straight answers, finishing off sentences, offering more than a slip-slide of vagaries punctuated by vigorous hand gestures, none of which translates into print? He’d rather not.

He tells me, as he’s told other journalists before, this is because he’s interested in navigating the line between “privacy and secrecy”, then says he’s aware he’s sometimes “got away with secrecy under the guise and respectability of privacy”, as if signalling potential incoming slipperiness, which means I prepare to throw every trick in the book at him.

First up: amateur psychology.

Might Andrew Scott’s gayness be at the heart of his reluctance to speak more freely? Perhaps. This is no scoop. He’s been out for almost as long as he’s been famous. “I mean, as a civilian, I was quite young [when I came out], you know? But then, as a celebrity…”

He tails off, allows me to fill in the blanks. This is another of his evasion tactics. I can’t very well quote Scott on the presumptions I make about things he never quite says.

He had to have another coming out?

“Yes. And I have another one coming up.”

He has another coming out coming up?

“Yeah.”

So that will be, what? Tier 3 gayness?

“Tier 3, yeah.”

Scott grew up in Ireland at a time when it wasn’t legal to be gay, which could certainly seed an enduring reluctance towards carefree openness in a person. He invokes the concept of shame more regularly than the average interviewee. He was born in Dublin in 1976 to Nora, an art teacher, and Jim, who worked at an employment agency. He has one older sister, Sarah, and a younger one, Hannah.

He was shy, so started attending a children’s drama course.

Did that help?

“Yeah. Acting to me is not pretending to be someone else. It’s more like, this is who I actually am. The lie that tells the truth,” he says. I am none the wiser. He was clearly talented. He went from adverts to his first starring role in a film aged 17 (Korea, directed by Cathal Black), won a bursary to art school but took a place at Trinity College Dublin to study drama instead, and ditched that six months in to join Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. He’s been gainfully employed in the field ever since.

How Catholic was his upbringing?

“Well, there were Catholic priests in my life,” he says. “None of whom I wanted to have sex with.”

Does it amuse Scott to know he inspired a mass fetishising of priestly ranks? That in 2019, the Hot Priest would make, “Can you have sex with a Catholic priest?” one of the most googled terms of the year?

“Absolutely f***ing mental,” he says.

Homosexuality wasn’t legalised in Ireland until 1993, when Scott was 16.

“I always think, if I’d had a boyfriend then, which I definitely did not…”

No?

“No.”

He knew he was gay, though?

“No. No, no, no, no!”

Was he suppressing it or not thinking about it?

“I would say suppressing. Definitely suppressing. I don’t believe people just don’t think about it.”

An upbeat, cheesy jazz remix of something or other starts playing outside the room.

“Oooh, this is the soundtrack for this bit of the interview,” says Scott. He wiggles his shoulders to the music.

I switch to strict dominatrix interviewer mode. Focus, I say. You were about to tell me something good.

“Oh, shit, was I? OK. I think what’s really insidious is that people don’t ask you about sex or… People wouldn’t say, ‘Are you gay or are you [straight]?’ And the lack of directness is very damaging. They just didn’t go there.”

Does he think his family, friends, the people closest to him knew then that he was gay?

“No,” he says. “I don’t think they did know. Or maybe they have a suspicion, but they think, I want to be respectful, so I’m not going to ask about that. Then [when you do come out], people say, ‘Oh, I’m glad.’ You know? If you do talk about it. So I suppose what I feel now is, talking about sex or sexuality is important. Really important.”

Having said that, “There’s still getting rid of the shame. In a situation like this, 10 or 15 years ago, I would have been…” He fakes shock, horror. “Oh no! Polly’s just asked me about [he switches to a whisper] that.”

Scott will talk about his sex life only notionally. No specifics. For 15 years, between 2001 and 2016, he was in a relationship with the actor turned screenwriter Stephen Beresford (Scott starred in Beresford’s 2014 film Pride). Ever since, he’s refused to answer questions about his romantic life.

And he’s not going to talk about it now, I presume.

“No.”

What if we talk about it opaquely?

“OK.”

Where does he see himself, domestically, in an ideal world? Married with kids whom he’ll, I dunno, adopt or have via surrogacy?

“I like it. It’s bold. Am I going to adopt or…?”

Get a surrogate?

“I definitely think that’s something I would be open to.”

Great, I say, with blatant sarcasm. Thanks. How specific.

“Ha! I’m sorry. OK. Have I got any children at the moment? No. How can I… [explain]? OK. I was with a friend of mine in Dublin…”

His partner?

“No, no, no. Not my partner. Ah ha. I see what you were…”

Teasing. Yes.

“Ha! Yes. So, I was with a friend in Dublin and we were walking around and he was looking at apartments and I was like, ‘What about this place here?’ You know? And he said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘Why not?’ and he said, ‘I don’t live a heteronormative life, so I don’t want a heteronormative house.’ ”

What’s a heteronormative house?

“Two up, two down thing. He goes, ‘I can live in a loft or a weird space. I don’t need those things.’ He was so proud of it. He really owned it. I think where a lot of one’s pain comes from is when you go, ‘I should want that.’ And so, to answer your question opaquely, I have kids I adore. I love children, genuinely, and I had a very happy childhood. But I also feel, if I don’t have kids, that’s all right. I think I would’ve attached a lot of shame beforehand, with not living a particularly heteronormative life… Even with being gay, there’s a sort of way of being gay that’s acceptable. And I don’t feel that any more.”

He feels you can be unacceptably gay?

“Exactly. Exactly!”

I ask when shame shifted for him and Scott says it was when Ireland voted overwhelmingly in favour of same-sex marriage in the 2015 referendum, which felt, he says, “like acceptance, genuinely. And I remember going out to this gay bar in Dublin and this girl came up to me, this cool Dublin girl, and she said, ‘What are you doing here? You need to go down to, I don’t know, blah, blah, this bar in some park.’ She was saying, ‘This isn’t the right gay bar for you. This is some shit gig,’ when the fact I’m in a gay bar in Ireland [at all] is a miracle to me, and then some person with a half-shaved head is telling me, ‘No, you need to go somewhere cooler.’ ”

His left eye starts weeping again.

“I’m so happy about that,” he says. “Even though I’m crying.”

I ask Scott if he has a game plan when picking roles, if he plots his course from Sherlock villain to Bond quasi-villain (he played Max Denbigh in Spectre) to sex icon, and, if so, what next? “No. Jesus, no,” he says.

We talk about the totalitarianism of social media, which he isn’t on, and share a mutual despair over it. “I thought it was something one would associate with the right, but actually, now it’s [the left] that is very ‘you’re this’ or ‘you’re that’. I find that quite frightening. It actually makes me feel ferocious.”

Is he not worried about being cancelled, of somehow saying the “wrong” thing, according to Twitter sensitivities, then having a thousand voices mobilised against him, demanding his firing, in the style of JK Rowling?

“I’m not,” he says. “I refuse to be. A very intelligent person I was talking to recently was writing a book and he said, ‘I’m going to get a sensitivity expert to have a look. I don’t want to get cancelled.’ I found that frightening.”

Is he rich? “Rich is the absence of worry about money,” he says. He can’t remember the last time he worried about money.

That must be nice.

“Of course it f***ing is. I think it’s a miracle. I really do. I was working in a French theatre in London for nothing – none of us was working for anything – and I remember the artistic director of the theatre talking about the fact we weren’t earning any money as some sort of virtue. I remember feeling really annoyed about that, like this isn’t good.”

This leads to an inevitable conversation about how the arts are suffering with Covid, including a segue down the Fatima route, the much shared government advert that depicted a young ballerina and suggested she retrain in something called cyber. “Her name’s not even Fatima,” Scott rails. “I think she’s called Desire’e. From New York.”

I mean to ask him about his experience of filming The Pursuit of Love with Lily James and Dominic West, stars of their own recent off-screen micro-scandal in Rome, just in case he lets any scurrilous insight slip, but our time’s up and it’s not as if Scott has much form on offering up scurrilous insight anyway.

Still, I feel grateful to him for meeting me halfway on the other stuff. And so I say goodbye to Andrew Scott, the UK’s foremost gay heterosexual lapsed Catholic faux-priest lust icon with a troublesome eye infection.

[harryspet]

A Wife’s Duty [1] h.s.

[Warning] this is inspired by the handmaid’s tale (i know thats f’d up but this is fiction deal with it), dubcon (borderline noncon), commander x wife, harry styles x named reader, sexy stuff

In which she is bound to harry for life and tasked with the honor of being the wife of a commander and bearing his children.

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

She didn’t see her husband’s face until the day of their wedding and, even then, it wasn’t a special ceremony of love and devotion. 

She was standing in a line of girls, twelve on either side of her, and they were all to be wed together. All of them were lucky. They were young, beautiful and fertile which meant they could be saved from the fate of becoming Handmaiden’s. However, they were still married off and expected to bear many children for their commander husbands. 

Loyal and subservient. Quiet and modest. At least, that's the way they interpreted God’s scripture. 

As her new husband lifted her veil, she felt as if she may vomit. She had heard stories, horrible stories, of commander’s abusing their wives. She even heard one girl was beaten to death after suffering from a miscarriage. The commander was reprimanded, of course, but the chance of her husband being a cruel man was frightening. 

He wasn’t what she expected. Her lips pressed into a small, nervous smile as she looked him over. His green eyes were piercing, maybe due to the blinding lights of the large stadium they were in, and his lips soft looking and pink. He was young, much older than her, but younger than she expected. 

She looked down quickly, feeling his gaze pierce into her. He dressed in a black, like the rest of the commanders, but it seemed he had a lot of awards and honors decorating his chest. It seemed he was accomplished, to say the least, but, as her eyes roamed a bit lower, she noticed the tattoos on his hands. 

She had always been taught that marking your body in that way was sinful yet here he stood, small tattoos decorating his hands, and yet he was a high ranking commander. 

The priest went on and it was only then that she realized she had tuned out the readings. “God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them. God blessed them, saying: "Be fertile and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and all the living things that move on the earth." She only looked up again when her husband reached out to slide a ring onto her finger. It was relatively simple but the diamond perched in the middle screamed wealthy.

She thought for a moment that she was lucky but that faded quickly. 

His hands were rough and calloused and he coughed awkwardly when his hands lingered a little too long on hers. 

“For commanders and wives ., who begin their married life together this day. May they experience the love of God, the support of family and friends, and the blessings of children. We pray to the Lord.”

“Amen,” All the couples said in unison and it was first she heard his first. It was deep and certain. Like he knew this was inevitable just like she had. Like he had no choice but accepting things made it easier than fighting. And then it was done and her life was in his hands. The extent of her freedom would start and end with him.

They interlaced their arms, clapping roared through the stadium, and then she was being escorted away. A lot of the girls waved to their families, tears of joy dripping from their eyes. Their lives finally had a purpose. Her real family was gone, she was ripped away from them because they were poor and couldn’t afford to fight the government. 

He was her family. And she didn’t even know his name. 

+

He sat across from her in the black car they rode in. His hands sat awkwardly in his lap, as if he normally didn’t like being chauffeured around, and wished he was in control of the car. She nervously played with the folds of her white dress as she waited for him to say something - anything. 

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a ringing phone. He eyed her carefully as he reached into his black jacket to take the call. A phone? To have one he must be very important. 

“Commander Styles,” He answered, his voice gruff, “I’ll be in Redwick-” he checked his watch, “in an hour. But I won’t be able to meet with you tonight.”

Tonight. She swallowed. He probably wanted to consummate their marriage. Of course, he did. That was the whole point of this and she’d be stupid to think otherwise. 

“I can meet with you sometime tomorrow. I’m eager to discuss those plans as well. I wasn’t expecting so much disagreement on the issue. If you give Thomas a call, he can fit you into my schedule….Yes, of course . . . May the lord be with you. Goodnight,” He sighed deeply as he hung up and then caught me staring. 

“Commander Styles?” She asked timidly. At the sound of her voice, his lips seemed to push into a thin line of frustration. She worried for a moment that she had already broken a rule. 

“Harry, my name is Harry, Ember.”

She stared, blinking, “Y-You know my name?”

“I dislike surprises,” He answered simply, only leaving it to my imagination to decide what exactly he meant by that. He leaned back, letting one of his hands rest behind the headrest of the other seat, as he stared out the window. 

Redwick was a decently far from the capital, that much she knew, and part of her was worried. She had never left the capital before and was warned that there were large lands of waste between cities, where captured rebels were forced into labor camps. She got the courage to look out the window about thirty minutes into the drive and, although she saw no rebels, she saw wasteland. It was like a red desert where the grass no longer grew and the rusting building seemed to fall into the dust. 

Something about it felt peaceful and she felt a bit sick for thinking that way. She looked back down at her lap for the rest of the drive. 

When they finally entered the city of Redwick, she was itching to get out of the suffocating car. Harry seemed to suck up all of the air with his commanding presence. It was a suburban town, a contrast to the Capital, and each of the houses they passed had at least a hundred acres to their own. Harry’s home was no different, the road leading to his estate was a three minute drive on it’s own. It was a spectacular home but she was surprised how quaint it was. It was ivory and foliage crawled up all sides of it which she thought gave it an interesting character. 

She stared as he opened the door for her and offered her a hand so she crawled out without tripping over her dress. His focus wasn’t on her long before he met the driver on the other side of the car, and she assumed he handed him his payment. 

“Shall we?” He finally asked, holding a hand out for me to step forward. 

She looked around one more time at the rolling grass hills, “There’s so much . . . space,” She commented, stepping towards the front door, “It’s beautiful here, Commander Styles.”

He opened the black door, “A family heirloom,” He said curtly.

A small gasp left her lips as she admired the giant chandelier that hung in the foyer, “It’s lovely, Harry.”

“You haven’t even seen the rest of the house, Ember,” He spoke, closing the door and wrapping his hands behind his back. He began showing her around, letting her ooh and awe at everything she thought was cool. She really hasn’t gotten out much, he thought, watching her hold an elephant figurine sitting on the fireplace. 

“You grew up here?” She asked and he only nodded. He didn’t seem to want to discuss it further. 

Okay, she thought, it didn’t seem like he was one for small talk.

Then another call interrupted them. He quickly told her to go into the kitchen so Imogene could make her some dinner.

+

After eating dinner, she didn’t think she’d see Commander Styles for the rest of the night. It was already approaching midnight, Imogene had shown her to a room and gave her clothes to sleep in. She was laying in bed, a white long sleeved nightgown covering her body, not able to sleep. 

She listened to the sound of cicadas outside of her window and closed her eyes every few minutes, trying to find sleep. 

Her door slowly opened and she perked up, sitting up on her elbows. Harry appeared, not meeting her eyes immediately, “Were you sleeping?” He asked in a quiet and cold voice. He leaned over to turn on the lamp light on the bedside table. 

She shook her head immediately and he took a breath before asking, “Are you a virgin?”

“Of course,” she said, as if she was offended as the implication that she might not be, “Of course, Harry. I assure you that I-”

He interrupted before she could ramble, “Lay back down,” He ordered her and her heart stopped. She was trying to read the emotion in his eyes but couldn’t. Her heart pounded. 

She did as he said, unsure of where to put her hands or where exactly to look. She kept her hands to her side and stared up at the ceiling. From the corner of her eyes, she could tell he was undressing. 

Harry rounded the bed to the other side before climbing into the large bed. “You look like a corpse,” He commented. He moved to her side and she noticed he was now only wearing a pair of briefs. His tattoos were on display, a butterfly decorating his chest.

“I-I’m sorry,” She spoke, her bottom lip shaking, confronting her fear and finally looking him in the eyes. He snorted at that. 

“Relax,” He told her, “You want to please your husband, don’t you?”

She nodded before he continued, “Then relax, Ember,” He leaned in to kiss her and she was frozen for a moment, his stubble scratching her skin. He moved from her lips to the side of her chin and down to her neck. That’s when a yelp escaped her mouth as he kissed the sensitive parts of her neck. She didn’t know that area was even touched during sex. 

“God first and then me, do you understand?”

She nodded, whimpering, as the kisses traced her collarbones. His tattooed hand traced the length of her silk gown until it reached between her legs. She felt his fingers slip between the fabric of her panties. His finger touched the small bulb between her lips and a jolt went through her.

“Harry-” He shushed her. He stopped with his kisses and started to use his own legs to spread hers. She felt open, completely exposed. Her eyes were wide. It was nothing like what she had expected. He rubbed her there, in fast and then slow circles and she moaned into his mouth. 

She kissed him back now, though she wasn’t sure what she was doing, she fell into his rhythm. As his lips left hers, he moved in between her legs, fully spreading her and she expected for the pain to begin but Harry’s lips traveled further. He lifted her gown, kissing between her breast and then her naval until he got much lower. 

As his own mouth pressed against her sex, she yelped, pushing herself away from him until her back hit the headboard, “Harry, I don’t think-” He gave her a frustrated look, “You shouldn’t, I-I mean, we shouldn’t do that. That’s not the way-”

He rested on his knees, grabbing her waist and lifting her until her head fell roughly back where it was. “I will show you the way, little one. You don’t get to decide what I should and shouldn’t do, understand?”

She nodded eagerly, fear in her eyes, and she answered, “Y-Yes.”

“Yes, Commander,” He corrected and then she repeated the words back to him. He smirked, he liked when she called him Commander. 

Ember gripped the sheets so tightly that she thought she might rip them. With only thirty seconds of his mouth on her sex, her first orgasm was ripping through her body. He hadn’t even planned to keep going but, knowing she was so sensitive, he couldn’t help but try to get another one out of her. And then another. “Please, Harry- Commander, please! I can’t-” She was begging, her body shaking, as she tried to escape him. 

Perhaps he was being greedy. He relented after the third one, kissing up her body again and he didn’t give her much time to rest before he began to sheathe himself inside of her. She gripped his back, surely leaving scratch marks as he carefully entered her. 

“Say you want my children, Ember.” 

“I-I want your children, Commander.”

“Say you’re mine.”

She looked into his eyes, into the unknown, and knew things would never be the same again. She belonged to him now and only death could change that, 

“I’m yours, Commander.”

And his head tilted back in ecstasy.

+

part two of A Wife’s Duty is posted! check out my #masterlist for more of my works

[foulserpent]

only human

long character analysis + fan fiction hybrid involving critically acclaimed worst best game of all time The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion! martin is in a mental and emotional hell! ned and martin resolving unresolved sexual tension after like, 100000 false starts! being mentally ill with the bro’s! "fluffy" ending!

cw: brief depiction of violence, ptsd, implications of past relationship based trauma, borderline explicit but not really sexy sexual content (nothing p*rnographic but 18+ pls)

On some nights, Martin was in hell.

The world was on a slow death march towards ruin outside the walls, this much he knew. Not even the strongest fortification could shield him from it. Every night from his gilded cage, he heard the screams, breathed the foul smoke and burning flesh and disemboweled gut, see the daedra drag the near-dead into the shadows to be torn apart, still crying out as they were devoured. His hands wet with blood, shaking in vain as his healing failed him and the survivors were pulled apart by their own wounds. The long walk out of the doomed Kvatch, past swarming flies and hundreds of blank eyes looking into the unforgiving sun. The revelation that all this was for him.

On the worst of these nights, staring into the ceiling of Cloud Ruler Temple as the sun began to creep over the horizon, he would wish he had just died.

This time last year, he was on track to live out the rest of his days in obscurity. Probably in Kvatch, probably remaining a priest, where the only weight on his shoulders was giving people their assurances that the Divines would look out for them and hoping he would finally taste truth in these words. It would be better than this. Those who held the reigns of the Empire were even more deluded than he'd thought, if they believed that his noble blood would divinely grant understanding of what to do, some inborn ability to keep collected and strong and sane trapped here as his friends faced death at his behest.

He would be called "lord", shone and polished as a commodity, loved and utterly devoted to, and never, never known. His feelings did not matter. This message had been thoroughly beaten into him. None of it mattered to whatever hand kept him guarded as preciously as the helpless king on the chessboard, behind a line of pawns to the sacrifice. Xikeel bringing him little gifts from gods-know-where (some teeth, a ring, a few spoons), slithering down from the rafters to visit him in the late night hours. One of the blades- bewildered - walking in on them dancing, without rhythm or music.

Long conversations with Ned, who would never treat him like an emperor, who barely even seemed to want to be there but had become doggedly devoted to Xikeel and himself. Bringing him wine, face softened into a smile in anticipation of an evening sitting outside in comfortable, quiet company. Tired and spiteful, but so warm.

He did not know when his feelings had turned to want. There was never an astonished realization, no moment that had changed everything. The first time he consciously acknowledged it was not as a revelation, but as an observation. Ned had cut his hand, a simple, foolish mistake that left Martin wearily healing him, in spite of the bosmer’s protests. Martin had held onto his hand longer than the spell needed, feeling the pulse in his fingers and wanting to entwine him in his own. Wanting to pull him in closer. Noticing that he wanted this, and noticing that it did not surprise him.

It was one of many things to think about, significantly less distressing than every other aspect of his current existence to say the least. He wondered if it was the day he had returned from his nigh-suicidal mission to cheat a god, haggard and shirt bloodied and yet with the softest eyes Martin had seen in the man, cracking a weak smile (a flash of teeth) that said "I've done it, and I hope you can forgive me". He wondered if it was Ned's unwavering devotion to leaving his shirt half-unbuttoned, the burn tearing through his chest on display like a trophy. The necklace would fall across the older man's breast while he laughed and joked about stupid things with Martin as if they were old friends. He was not above simple things.

Perhaps this was a test of the temperance he had spent years cultivating, hollowing out a part of himself to nurture the seed. After all, he had not been with anyone for a long time.

---

He had loathed the existence of the arena in Kvatch, drawing in men and women from all around in what amounted to mass suicide. There was little honor in it, just desperate people consuming themselves for just to grasp a thread of glory, dying in the mud as the crowd roared.  But Martin was only human. He had found himself looking on the men as they passed through town, all muscle and scars and fiercely alive. He had found himself drawn to one who had come into the temple for a blessing of protection. The man never said why, though Martin knew where he was bound. It was never hard to tell.

The man was tall and rather handsome, with a muscular frame and dark hair and looking to be only a few years younger than himself, (this had to be around when he was forty-one or forty-two. Had it been that long?). They'd spoke first as strangers do, running through the motions of a blessing under a thick smoke of incense and flowers burnt in offering to the Dragon. Martin averted his gaze from the sword at the man's hip as he prepared the oil. Its hilt glittered in iron filigree and unmistakable rust of dried blood struck gold by the afternoon's dying light. His eyes wandered to the man's face instead, moving to begin the anointment. The dark haired man swiped his tongue over his lips and glanced away, and Martin's heartbeat spiked.

For gods sakes.

The man talked compulsively, glancing around as if something stalked him in the shadows between the stained-glass-light. Martin had silently hoped he would grow bored with the old priest and be on his way, if only so that he'd have time to himself to contemplate what the hell was wrong with him. So, naturally, the man kept talking long after the ritual was complete and the candles extinguished. About where he had come from, (all the way from High Rock, it turned out), the unusual rains lately, family. Partners. Lovers. The conversation turned here, and had fallen with such a speed that he barely realized what was happening. The man had found Martin beautiful, and Martin, exhausted with penitence and enthralled by the stranger and aching to just be human again, had found himself quietly slipping out with him.

Martin's home was truly tiny when occupied by two, an unfamiliar claustrophobia that was quickly dragged into the mire and drowned in a little too much wine. It was cheap and burned his throat with its sweetness, but he didn't care. They'd stumbled and fallen into his bed.

"For good luck," the man had said, as they kissed rough and far too clumsy.

"For good luck," Martin had kissed into the man's neck.

The man was a bit fumbling, all muscles and scars and fierceness. No matter how close their bodies pressed, no matter the grip Martin had - his fingers marking new trails over a scarred back -  there was that distance. Two magnets repelling, even as they forced themselves together. These men going to their deaths couldn't be touched. And neither could he, no matter how he tried. There weren't even the barest roots of love here. Just body on body, flesh on flesh. It wasn't bad, though. Martin was only human.

He didn't know what to say in the morning, as the man collected his belongings to go off to the fight. "Good luck," Martin said again, feeling stupid. The man had said "thank you" with his eyes distant. He bent down and out the door, and walked out into the humid morning air, leaving Martin with a strange emptiness in his gut. He never saw him again.

It shouldn't have impacted him so badly. He'd had a one-night stand that was, frankly, pretty good. He'd given another man some comfort, something above and beyond his duty as the Priest-Healer-Penitent. It wasn't really against any vows. His lungs still breathed the smoke of offerings to the Dragon, a shrine to Dibella was dutifully kept at the foot of his bed and given a clumsy offering before the main event. He had not fallen back into the snares of that damned daedra. It wasn't a betrayal of those he'd lost. So why was he guilty?

---

And yet here he was now, on the precipice yet again. Really, he was long into the fall.

Him and one-of-two Heroes of Kvatch had slept together for a week now. Nothing more than the sharing of a bed and body heat, their day to day lives much the same as the world crumbled around him. They had kissed a few days ago, slightly dizzy with wine and the memory returning only in a haze. They'd kissed again the night before, sober and beyond any deniability as the bosmer was making his way out on errand. Ned had blushed and flicked his ears back, leaving him with a soft smile and a quiet "See you," as he slipped into the night.

Now, Martin found himself kneeling as if in prayer at the foot of his bed, his companion sitting up before him. Ned was half naked, body all muscle and scars and an exhaustion that ran far deeper than that. Martin had been healing a wound on his stomach- sliced open by a nasty (and thankfully, poorly aimed) dagger. The Mythic Dawn long since knew what he looked like, though they had hardly been this bold before now. They stalked the base of the mountains like jackals at the edge of a kill, waiting for an opening to lunge in and tear off some scrap of flesh. Ned hadn't wanted to talk about this one. His hands shook as he'd taken off his bloodstained clothes, and he scoured them with a washcloth long after they were clean.

"I'm fine." He had said. "I'm just tired."

Martin was tired too. That first night together, he had this romantic notion that being held by his friend would keep away the nightmares. They had come as they did most nights, crawling out of the depths of his subconscious with the worst of him they could offer. He'd woken up, breathing hard as terror dripped down his body. There was one difference. There was a warmth pressed to his back, and it breathed a half-snore as it moved in closer, nuzzled into his trembling neck. Ned hadn't woken. He had just wrapped Martin up into strong arms, and settled back into a deep sleep. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but even as the last traces of the nightmare pulled out its spurs, Martin felt safe. All he wanted was to return the favor.

Now, Martin leaned to kissed the gash across Ned's chest, the one that the man would wake up in terror clutching at, eyes somewhere far away and breathing hard. He trailed kisses down the line of skin warped by fire and blade, and Ned laughed. "I can barely feel it."

"Really?" The sword and its burns had probably damaged a nerve. Or done something worse, something that cut deeper. It was a daedric weapon after all. Martin would later ask where exactly he had sensation, to see if anything could be done about it. Later, perhaps. Now, he was tired of being the Priest-Healer-Penitent.

He leaned back in, close but just out of reach. His lips hovered down over the soft hair down his middle, making a glancing contact below the wounds. Even there, the skin seemed to have been broken and healed many times over a long life. How could someone live like that?  He kissed him, just below the lower scar.

"How about here?"

"S'better"

Ned was definitely feeling something. The man's breath caught just slightly at the touch. He overcorrected, shifting in his seat a little and clearing his throat. Uncrossing his legs. Martin moved further down, just a little past his navel, laying another kiss on the recently healed wound. He wanted nothing more than to taste - touch the man before him, and to wake up with no guilt, no loneliness- he kissed him again.

"Or here?"

"Little better," the man's tone was flirtatious. "I mean, it'd be lot more sensation if you went just a bit low...er."

Ned had trailed off in the last word and froze at his own indiscretion. He was tensed like one with a hand raised against him, expecting a blow. As if he could have misinterpreted where this moment could go, alone and naked with his friend kneeling before him. As if Martin would be mad.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-uh." Ned flailed, pulling his knees shut.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I'd like to, if you would."

Ned's breath hitched. He looked utterly bewildered.

"OH- yeah, sure? Uh- Yes. Yeah." He sputtered.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment that lasted an eternity. Neither man dared to even take a breath. Ned cracked the tiniest fraction of a smile.

They both laughed, pulling apart. The tension had snapped, and the ache in his gut relented, put itself to the side. Martin hoisted himself back up onto the bed, sitting to his friend's side with a chaste several inches between them.

"It's... Been a while." Martin sighed. "Look at me, acting all nervous."

"Me too man, me too." Ned laughed, covering the blush on his face and utterly failing to hide the red of his ears. "’Promise I'm not usually like this, I have no friggin' idea what my problem is."

"Well, this'll just have to do." Martin made a show of shrugging and frowning in mock-resignation.

Ned let out a 'ha!' and leaned back, all muscles now relaxed as he smiled up at his companion. His words and smile were casual, but he was looking at Martin with such soft eyes, as if this tired old man was the damn moons and stars.

"Can I kiss you?" Martin asked.

Ned nodded.

He leaned over him, and went in for another kiss. And another. This time, it was as if a dam had burst. All lips and tongue and teeth and breath and hands moving on skin with a practiced clumsiness that spoke to years of experience, and spoke to one treading a ground that was brand new and wonderful for it.

As they pulled apart, Ned smiled and squeezed Martin's hands, and he squeezed back. They guided each other downward.

Now, Martin's lips were at a precipice below deniability. His hands held ready at the man's waist, a few fingers interwoven with his, beyond caring if their palms sweat or if their arms shook. He looked up to meet Ned's gaze, who cracked a smile and looked away, threading his other hand into Martin's hair in spite of his sheepishness.  

"Can I keep going?" Martin asked.

"Yeah," Ned answered, still smiling. Eyes closed. "Please."

Ned's thumb brushed his cheek, a gentle encouragement. A 'thank you'.

And he kissed him.

[inmyarmswrappedin]

Now that Nora's season is coming to end, what are somethings that you want for amira's season

Hi 😁 I bet you thought I’d never reply to this ask! Well, after you sent this in MARCH, I am finally posting an answer. 

Btw, I did the same for Nora’s season, and as a note, I’m a white European and an atheist. If any of this is offensive or not my place to say, I preemptively apologize.

1) I would like for Amira's arc not to be about being Muslim. That is, Cris' arc isn't about being bi, it's about learning (and accepting) that she's more than the fun friend. That she has and can offer more to the people in her life. Nora's arc isn't about being a feminist, it's about not being so set in your first impression of someone that you don't notice red flags or don't notice them trying to be better people. Same with Eva and not being defined by her mistakes, or about Viri and her financial situation. And I would like the same for Amira.

2) I think one common denominator of all Sana seasons so far is that they've shown the mains doing something that people assume hijabi can't do when it's more like they're systematically excluded from participating. For Sana, it was basketball. For Imane, it was dancing. For Amira M, it was boxing. I joked on twitter that Amira N's thing should be binging TV shows and eating junk, proving that hijabi are really like anyone else, but on a serious note, I'd like for Amira's thing to be photography (and maybe modeling? since Amira's friend was taking pics of her).

3) A scene where Amira explains how she can be a feminist and a hijabi both, just so we as a society have that scene to point to when the question inevitably comes up again. Seriously, I feel like that's one of the questions I most often see people asking Hajar.

4) I want the association girls to have their own youtube channel. Or at the very least, their own instagram and/or twitter account. I would love for them to post memes punching up about their experiences.

5) I feel like, much like with trans narratives, there's this "acceptable" narrative for hijabi in mainstream society, which is: the character made the decision to cover after coming up with solid reasons to do so. I.e. she made the decision early and can defend it with inarguable rebuttals. It's like women can't be trusted unless they know 150% what they're doing, be it covering, or dating a girl, or going vegan, or any number of things. I really appreciate that Amira started covering just because it felt right, and she's finding meaning in it after the fact. I would like for this to be a thing in her season, that she's still figuring herself out, that she's not already an Islamic scholar.

6) I also think that's what makes her stand apart from the other Sanas. I feel like (maybe with Zoya's exception), none of the other Sanas would entertain a crush on a white guy. They'd have never drunk or flirted (like we know Amira used to do). It's like they're not allowed to fuck up, or can only fuck up in acceptable ways, like engaging in a flirtation with a non Muslim only because they didn't know he wasn't a Muslim, or had booze at home, but it wasn't theirs, etc. I'm hoping that they've made Dani a love interest specifically to explore this idea (and not because they wanted to whitewash a character or give less time to an actor of color).

7) On that note, SKAM Hajar brought up an idea that, because the hijab makes them super visible, hijabi are perceived as ambassadors of Islam, expected to be able to answer any question about Islam, but also that people will judge all Muslims based on whatever mistake they individually make. I would like for a potential bench scene to allow Amira to say that it puts major pressure on her to feel like she can't make any mistake, because every Muslim will be judged based on her making a mistake, having a shitty day, being in a bad mood, not wanting to be Muslim wikipedia that day, etc. That sometimes she just wants to be Amira, not Islam personified.

8) I would like for Dani's character to represent not just white society, but also childhood, the safe choice, the choice her parents would love, and for Sofian's character to represent not just Moroccan culture, but also like... SEXY risk, independence, novelty... Because I feel like when I see Muslim girl/Muslim boy/white guy love triangles in fiction, the Muslim guy is positioned as the boring choice (but still incredibly wrong because he's abusive or maybe even secretly gay and forced to beard by his parents), the safety, the guy you'd bring home to your parents, whereas the white guy represents independence and carving your own path away from your parents.

9) Just once, I would like for a Muslim character to say, "what do you think of Catholic priests abusing kids?" to someone asking them what they think of such-and-such Muslim majority country doing such-and-such to its citizens. Bonus points if it's Sofian's character.

10) I would like for Dilan to get an insta and a storyline. And for that storyline to connect to Amira's.

11) In general, I would prefer that parents be kept to a minimum (not to get rid of them entirely, of course, but to be kept at the level they've been in other Sana seasons). I just have never thought the point of Skam was the parents. And I get why they have a larger presence in a second gen kid, but I, personally, am more interested in what they represent in the main's life, rather than in giving them a lot of face time.

12) And, on that note, if they do with Amira what I've outlined above, I don't think there's a necessity for Amira to have siblings. Particularly if eskam isn't going to continue after this season. I think it'd be far more interesting if Amira's character contained the elements of figuring her identity as a Muslim living in a Western country that Elias, Idriss and Essam had. (And maybe that way Dani is both Yousef and Elias, stealing not just one role for an actor of color, but two! lmao)

13) I really hope that the obligatory evak s4 side plot be kept at a minimum tbh. I'm really not interested in a) Eloy coming back to cause drama, b) Amira's friend causing croana drama because she's Joana ex or whatever, c) a physical fight breaking out because of (perceived) homophobia.

14) I want Amira to tell Cris that amiris es lo más real que hay. 😭 I would love it if, as a parallel to Cris' season, Amira doesn't tell Cris about her interest in Sofian's character at first because she's afraid of her reaction, only for Cris to be supportive of whatever she chooses to do.

15) I would be so fucking happy if eskam adapted the "is your faith stronger than your lust?" scene in this season. I have always wanted to love that scene, because how often do you get a scene where two girls get to talk that long and that much (even in Skam most of the iconic dialogue scenes between just two people aren't between two girls in the squad), but I just haaaated the purpose of the scene in Skam.

16) I would cry buckets if we got a scene like Det Beste fra Islam where Amira and Sofian's character both talk about what Islam means for them. Particularly if Sofian is introduced as not the Perfect Muslim Man, but it turns out he has THOUGHTS about religion.

17) And, finally, I would love for the unquestionable villain of the season to be a white guy. If the villain is going to be a woman, then I would want her to be Cris' mom, not a high school aged character. Not because of white feminism yayyy! but because I think the major issue Sana seasons have run into before is that the showrunners want to touch on white girls being the problem, but they also don't want to villainize white girls. So we have stuff like Sana inviting Sara and Ingrid (of all people!!) to Eid, Imane apologizing to Ingrid (of all people!!), random one clip white women attacking Amira M (and the Kiki/Amira friendship of course), etc. I'd just rather they didn't have girls doing shitty stuff to Amira N, if they're going to go back on it. Which they inevitably would, because eskam's overall message is sisterhood.

Bonus clips

18) I would love it if Skam España was like, "you thought we were dropping storylines left and right? Nope!" and resolved long standing mysteries like who was behind Eva's hate ig, who had the pills, who outed Cris to the school, who's the owner of the keys that were left behind at GSC, and so on. Will die if it turns out to be Ramón!

19) I want Joana to get that job she wanted so bad last season!

20) I would love for Emma to show up and come out as a lesbian, just as a last hurrah lol.

21) I don't feel strongly about which couples should be endgame and not (other than not Dani/Amira hghvvh please), BUT in my most embarrassing fantasies, I want Skam España to hire Alejandro Reina's irl boyfriend to play Lucas' boyfriend for the finale. Not because I can't separate fiction from reality or anything, but because when I thought Lucas would be getting a season, I wanted his boyfriend to be a poc, and I was highkey buttmad that they hired random white bread when they could just as easily have hired a poc.

22) I think it would be really cool if Inés got a clip on her POV, but I don't think we're going to get it. I think all bonus clips will be from the squad's POV, i.e. Eva, Cris, Nora and Viri. Not even Joana.

23) I want a Mallorca special or episode so bad, and I will be so FUCKING ANNOYED if we don't get it. Seriously, I can't imagine the team didn't feel betrayed when they watched Skam for writing purposes, and didn't get their russetide. So they should know how angry we would be if we didn't get even a little bit of Mallorca time.

[tsunflowers]

flowers top ten underrated anime part one

usually when you make a top ten list you include ten items but writing summaries takes a lot of effort for me so I only have five right now. just live like this please. someday I will post about the other five I promise

uchouten kazoku, or the eccentric family two seasons, 25 episodes, 2013 and 2017

four tanuki brothers trying to find their way in the wake of their father’s death, torn between becoming respectable members of tanuki society and the “idiot blood” that runs through their veins. they also have to deal with annoying cousins, oppression by tengu, and the possibility that they too will be killed and eaten by the human group known as the friday fellows. the protagonist, third brother yasaburou, is also under threat from the deadly affections of a tengu-trained human woman named benten who wants to eat him out of love

I think the mystery plot of “who killed shimogamo souichirou” and the family drama are both masterfully done and tie together perfectly. yasaburou is also a great protagonist. he always acts dumb but is full of schemes

the art style is unique in a way that may take some getting used to but after a few episodes you’ll almost forget that everyone has rectangle ears. the settings and shot compositions are so lively and inventive that the ears fall to the wayside

shinsekai yori, or from the new world one season, 25 episodes, 2012-2013

a group of children in an isolated village struggle with their psychic abilities and the truths behind their peaceful society as they grow up. the setting and clothing are so well designed and the animation is great as well, shifting styles at times to convey shifts in the characters’ understanding of reality. watch the first ed wareta ringo for the vibe

do not read the manga. there was some creepy shit (csa) in the novel the anime and manga were adapted from which the anime mostly smoothed over but the manga leaned all the way into

I think it has a lot of good psychological horror and a lot of something I’m interested in which is setting up rigid rules for how a society or magic system works and then exploring how people find loopholes and exploit those rules. like most dystopian fiction in this society the loopholes are built right in but the protagonists also find ways to circumvent them

there are same-gender relationships between the main characters but I think different people will have different opinions on whether those are positive or intentional gay/bi representation. it’s an enforced “everyone is bi” setting. I personally read the characters as bi and think their same-gender relationships have a huge impact on the story but as a warning no character ends the story in a same-gender relationship

kyousou giga, or capital craze one season, ten episodes, 2013 + five web shorts, 2012 + original 26 minute animation, 2011

a strange priest and his magical rabbit wife koto start a family in a mirror version of kyoto, adopting three strange and unique children. when the parents leave, their children are left behind trapped in a city that never changes. suddenly a small girl with a big hammer crashes into the mirror city. her name is also koto and she’s been going between dimensions trying to find her own family. maybe you already know where this is going from that but I really recommend you watch how it plays out

the animation, setting, and characters are all so vibrant and delightful. koto’s a charming and energetic protagonist and I love her signature weapon being a size-changing transparent hammer with floating orbs inside. I love the relationships between each member of the family as well and… I also think that mom koto (often called lady koto to differentiate them) is very sexy. thank you

arslan senki, or the heroic legend of arslan two seasons, 33 episodes, 2015 and 2016

maybe this one actually is really popular and it’s just so far from the kind of things I normally watch that I didn’t interact with the fandom enough to realize. it’s rare for me to watch a series where people go to war without using magic powers or giant robots. so I think it speaks to the quality of the story that I was able to get invested in a military story that’s largely lacking those kinds of exciting visuals

the anime is based on a series of novels by dr tanaka yoshiki, the guy who wrote the novel legend of the galactic heroes is based on. dr tanaka was writing those from 1986 all the way up to 2017, so this is actually the second anime adaptation, based on the second manga adaptation. confusing. I haven’t watched or read any other material from the franchise so I can only speak to the quality of the 2015 anime, which has character designs by arakawa hiromu and is very easy on the eyes

arslan is set in a fantasy version of ancient Persia, which I think is an interesting and underutilized setting. it follows the crown prince of pars (do you get it), arslan, on a journey to gain allies and reclaim the throne. he’s still a teen so he’s inexperienced but he has a noble heart that attracts people to him until he eventually gains a party that includes a loyal warrior, an artist and tactician, a flirtatious bard, an aloof priestess, a chief’s daughter, and an enemy soldier whose life arslan spares

I wish that the main female character in arslan’s group didn’t have a stupid design with just scraps of cloth covering her chest but nothing’s perfect. looking back there are also some unpleasant racial implications with most of arslan’s group having light skin while villainous characters often have darker skin. probably more of that would become apparent if I rewatched the show with that in mind but I’m not going to so I’m just throwing that out as a note of warning

sakura quest one season, 25 episodes, 2017

koharu yoshino is a woman who moved to tokyo to find a job but has no luck. when she finally gets a job offer, it’s to become “queen for a day” of rural manoyama village. upon arriving in manoyama, she learns that she was only hired because they thought she was someone else… but they still want her to work there for an entire year. now she lives in a small town and is tasked with both revitalizing the citizens and drawing tourists in, along with the help of four friends. it may not sound funny and heartwarming but it really is. it’s a good story about connecting and reconnecting and also the head of the tourism board wears a chupacabra mask sometimes

it’s pretty low-key and charming, similar to other anime about girls enjoying everyday life as they work passionately towards a goal, but the main characters are all adult women which is so refreshing. I don’t know if ririko was intentionally coded as autistic but for me it’s almost impossible not to read her that way. I think she’s written well and made me tear up a couple of times :( also her special interest is cryptids and ufos

[andrewgmooney]

Thought stream. Word Salad 🥗 Brain Salad Surgery

93... I don't. Not consciously. I've abandoned all notions that my rational mind is supposed to be running the show because I found out that wasn't the case a long, long time ago. Now I just accept my rational conscious mind is a PTSD shipwreck and I accept that I have no idea 💡 or control over what happens next. The more I resist surrendering to thus 'process', the sicker I'll get. #IContainMultitudes, etc. It's now more difficult to not meditate 'excessively' thzn to remember to do so. I gkt trappex jn the doldrums, an albatross adrift on topographic oceans as I navigated my #OdysseanEducation with impatience and irritation, fed up with the blather of #Kabbalah and being stuck on that occult train going #StationToStation with no discernible destination. Like #Bowie in Vladivostock waiting for a boat 🛥 to Hokkaido, I mix ny metaphors promiscuously and I trust in Art as Heilung completely. I was at Victoria Station when he supposedly did the Hitler salute but I neither saw nor recall any such thing. Remember David was a pop star, albeit far less of an arse than the rest of them but he craved FAME and £$¥€ and only 'woke up' from that cultural trance programming after his heart attack to realise 'art 🎨 for Art's sake, money for God's sake' but I told Ziggy in the Bull Ring that chasing mass consciousness via celebrity hysteria was already past its sell by date. Then Elvis flushed his Blackstar down the toilet but the nonsense not only continued, it's been amplified, weaponised by The Spectacle that is the 'living your best life' nanotechnology of delusion that is #Instagram. 15 Seconds Of Fame is the new Soma, the 'Eyeball Attention Economy' of The Globalist pseudo-fake Global Village - Panopticon👀 🙄 🤔' is Warhol' s maxim magnified by orders of magnitude, multiplied by McLuhan. So, this is the kind of stuff running on the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen as I wake up in 😰 terrir from the nightmarish dreams of The Scream 😱 in my head as my body writhes in my restless bed🛏, soundtrack by the pop song sounds of my youth : ✝️ 🌍 🏴󐁧󐁢󐁥󐁮󐁧󐁿 🎸 🎼 🥁 🎙️ 🎤 "The Green Manalishi with the two-pronged 👑 crown. ... Shall I tell you about my life? They say I'm a Man Of The World 🗺... I've flown across every Time : fcukd lots of  pretty boys and girls... Don't ask me what I think of you cause you might not get the answer that you want me to... Albatross (instrumental healing waves of sound ⚡ ⚡).. Bare Trees. January, you've been hanging on me ... Oh Well... " I wouldn't wish PTSD on my worst enemy. Arthur and Tommy Shelby are fictional phantoms from an upcycled #BCFC-z #SmallHeath but I'm the real deal, from the Babylon of Birmingham in the 1970s. Thank God for the small mercies, that The Muses of #MerciaRising let me finish raising my Holy Family before returning to reclaim my soul. I made that deal with the 👿 Devil at the crossroads after watching Crossroads one hundrum evening: Poets Corner. Armory Road. BSA 🏭. factory. The Factory. Should I release the Polaroids proving Warhol met the real mad Art genius Andy in New York City? 🤔 Or leave them with the   35mm film 📼 reels of  porn-orgies with police-priests on Fire Island to be analysed by Posterity? I guess I could just reveal I'm a real/imaginary Bitcoin Billion $ Boomer Baby if The Muses decide that it's Time to let Fame's fatal flames consume me. That's what's so hilarious about crypto : unless you 'manifest in Fiat', only God knows if you're telling the truth or taking the piss. But, that would be too obvious a move and would ruin everything. No doubt that playing with the Faketoshi Bitcoin Jesus #ChaldeanNumerology memetic cauldron is fun but if it gets out of control that would be 'problematic', to put it mildly. That Jane Austen opening line? Amazing how sexy an old man suddenly becomes once a hidden fortune is suspected. Bitcoin brings out the inner Borgia in families, including mine. Of all my travails, this is the one  that has almost 💔 broken my heart ♥ alongside inflamed my traumatised mind. I need Fame like a Cobain sized bullet hole 🕳 t

[tessatechaitea]

Cerebus #15 (1980)

If the story so far had revealed that Cerebus has a vagina, I could make a hentai joke here.

The first time I encountered hentai was at an anime convention at a Red Lion Inn in San Jose in 1994 or 1995. I went to the convention by myself because I had recently fallen in love with the cartoon Sailor Moon and wanted to get some Sailor Moon LaserDiscs unless it was actually Sailor Moon dolls I wanted. It was so long ago, how am I supposed to remember?! They had a room where they were showing movies and one of the movies I watched was Sailor Moon R: The Movie. It was subtitled which was great because then I had the story memorized for all the times I watched my non-subtitled LaserDisc. But that wasn't the pornographic anime I saw! I don't even remember what that was but I watched some tentacle fucking movie late at night in a dark room with a bunch of other sweaty nerds. I didn't know that was what was going to happen though so I didn't have my dick in my hands like the other guys probably did. I was as shocked as anybody when they first find out that cartoons where women get fucked by tentacles exist! I mean, how many penises does an alien need?! I grew up thinking the little gray aliens had zero! That Red Lion Inn was the same one where I played in a couple of Magic the Gathering tournaments. Being in a dark room with a bunch of horny anime fans was less awkward and uncomfortable than playing Magic the Gathering against Magic the Gathering fans. Most of them probably couldn't believe they were actually playing against such a cool and handsome dude. It really threw them off their game when I would say things like, "Yeah, I've touched a couple of boobs. I attack with my Serra Angel." I know what you're thinking: "Anime, comic books, and Magic the Gathering?! This awesome dude must have owned every single Stars Wars figure too!" Aw, you're too kind! I'm blushing! But obviously I never owned Yak Face. "A Note from the Publisher" is still being published so I guess Dave and Deni are still married. In his Swords of Cerebus essay, Dave Sim discusses "Why Groucho?" It seems to mostly come down to this: Dave Sim enjoyed the characters of Groucho Marx as a teenager and memorized a lot of their lines. He also mentions Kim Thompson's review of Cerebus in The Comic Journal (the first major review of the series) in which Kim praised Sim's ability to make his parody characters transcend the parody to become unique creations of their own. This review gave Sim the confidence to put Groucho in the role of Lord Julius. Which worked out so well that Sim later adds Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Margeret Thatcher, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Woody Allen, Dave Sim, and the Three Stooges into the story. I'm sure I'm missing some but I can't remember every aspect of this 6000 page story. Was The Judge also a parody of somebody? Was the Regency Elf based on Wendy Pini? I don't know! I'm sure I'm missing a lot of references in Cerebus simply because I haven't experienced all the same knowledge sources as Dave Sim. Just like I'm missing a super duper lot of references in Gravity's Rainbow because nobody in the history of ever has experienced all the same knowledge sources as Thomas Pynchon. I've been reading Gravity's Rainbow (for the first time but also the third time because I'm basically reading it three times at the same time. You'll understand when you read it) and I'm surprised by how funny it is. I don't think anybody ever described it as funny or else I'm sure I would never have stopped reading it multiple times prior to this time when I'm actually going to finish it. Although I suppose when I read Catch-22, I had done so on my own so nobody ever told me how funny that book was either. But for some reason, Catch-22 lets you know it's going to be a funny book pretty quickly. Gravity's Rainbow is all, "Here is a description of an evacuation of London which is just stage setting because, you know, the bombs have already blown up, but it makes people feel safe. And after that, how about a scene where this guy makes a bunch of banana recipes for breakfast. Is that funny enough for you?" Oh, sure, there are some funny moments like when that one guy pretends a banana is his cock and then some other guys tackle him and beat him with his own pretend cock. But there's a gravity to the scene that doesn't lend itself to the reader thinking, "Oh, this is a funny book!" But if you make it far enough, you start realizing, "Hey! I'm not understanding this!" So then you reread the section and you start realizing, "Hey! I'm laughing at this stuff! This is pretty funny!" Plus there are a lot of descriptions of sexy things that I'm assuming are really accurate because Pynchon is obsessed with details.

Anyway, I was supposed to be talking about Cerebus, wasn't I?

A Living Priest of Tarim crashes Lord Julius' bath to scold him about a party Julius is giving in a fortnight (which is the amount of time your kid has lost to a video game). I don't know why the priest has to declare he's a living priest. You can tell that by the way he's shouting and foaming at the mouth. Although this is a Swords & Sorcery book so I suppose there are many dead creatures that also shout and foam at the mouth. Sometimes I forget I'm reading a fictional book and wind up ranting and raving about stuff that I'm supposed to just assume is fine. Like when I read The Flash and nothing in it makes any sense at all because The Flash should never have any trouble stopping crime or saving people from natural disasters. The comic book should be over in two pages. Even the writers, at some point, realized how ridiculous Flash stories were and decided the only way to make them believable was to have The Flash battle other super fast people. But that just meant Flash stories basically became bar-room brawls. Two people with super speed fighting is the same as reading a story about two people without super speed fighting. Boring! Some writers even decided that maybe a telepathic monkey would make things more interesting and I suppose telepathic monkeys make everything more interesting so kudos to them. I was going to go on a long rant about telepathic monkeys but then I realized how much I love the idea of telepathic monkeys so why should I create an argument against them? More telepathic monkeys, please.

This made me laugh out loud. Not as much as the chapter in Gravity's Rainbow where the old woman forces Slothrop to eat a bunch of terrible candies. But then it isn't a competition, is it? I mean, I guess it's a competition for my time which is why I haven't written a comic book review in a week or more. Blame Thomas Pynchon for being so entertaining (and also Apex).

Baskin, the Minister for Executive Planning, has come to let Lord Julius know what the revolutionaries have revealed while being tortured. The only bit of useful information was one prisoner's last words: "Revolution...the pits." Cerebus immediately assumes "the Pits" is a location and not a summation of the prisoner's feelings about revolution which led to torture which led to his death. Cerebus, being the Kitchen Staff Supervisor, begins an investigation into The Pits. His first step: threatening the Priest of the Living Tarim. Which makes me realize I transposed the word "living" in the previous encounter with the priest and went on a digression that makes no sense to anybody who has read and somehow remembers that particular panel. I'm sure they were scoffing and snorting and exclaiming to their pet rat, "What a stupid fool loser this Grunion Guy is! Living Priest of Tarim! HA! Ridiculous! What a moronic mistake! He has made a gigantic fool of himself!" I don't know that the almost certainly imaginary people who called me on my mistake as they read this have a pet rat but I do know there almost certainly isn't another imaginary sentient being in the room with them. Cerebus learns that The Pits are Old Palnu that lies under current Palnu. It was destroyed in a massive earthquake long ago and the new city built over the top of it. It's like a Dungeons & Dragons module but with a lot less treasure.

This scene reminded me that I need to finish rereading The Boomer Bible: A Testament for Our Times (which is what it was called in the 90s but is just as accurate for today).

Cerebus and Lord Julius engage in another typical misunderstanding (it's not hard when only half of the people in the conversation care about making sense) which ends up with Lord Julius deciding that the location for the Festival of Petunias will be The Pits. This complicates Cerebus' job of not allowing Lord Julius to be assassinated because the assassins are most likely housed in The Pits (along with their giant snakes (*see cover)). Lord Julius, Baskin, and Cerebus descend into The Pits to find a suitable location for the Festival of Petunias. In doing so, they wind up in a trap and confronted by a masked revolutionary of the "Eye of the Pyramid." Which is odd because you usually have to murder at least a dozen kobolds and several goblins before you reach the room with the boss in it.

Typical unbalanced beginning level module. A giant snake as the first encounter!

Cerebus manages to defeat the giant snake by crashing it headfirst into a wall. The wall winds up being a key support structure and the roof collapses. Everybody makes it out alive but the masked revolutionary evades capture. He will be back next issue to ruin the Festival of Petunias. Aardvark Comment is still just a mostly standard comic book letters page. I'll probably stop discussing it until people start criticizing Dave. Right now it's just "This comic book is great!" and "Keep writing, Dave, and I'll never think ill of anything idea you espouse!" while Dave replies, "I owe my fans everything! I can't wait until I can stop feeling that way and start jerking off onto my art boards and selling those as pages of Cerebus!" Cerebus #15 Rating: A. Good story, good Lord Julius dialogue, good Living Priest of the Living Tarim scenes. I wholeheartedly endorse this comic book and Dave Sim. No way a guy with a sense of humor like this is going to go off the rails, right?!

[lastsonlost]

What does Christopher Priest see when he looks at Vampirella?

Loneliness.

And in his new Vampirella ongoing launching July 17, the veteran writer will give Vampi the human connection she craves... before ripping it all away.

Illustrated by Ergun Gunduz, Dynamite's new Vampirella relaunch begins with the alien vampire as the last survivor of a plane crash which took away any friend or acquaintance she had. Now she's here on Earth and all alone. And this isn't a fictional world known to have vampires, witches, warlocks, or werewolves - this is the real world, and you know how real people would take to someone like Vampirella?

... but do you, really?

As Priest tells Newsarama in an email interview, Vampirella's supernatural abilities are "a metaphor for a univeral human condition, for being either rejected or idealized (or, in the case of our series, both) because you are different. Anyone who’s ever moved to a new town or a new school or taken a new job should be able to identify with Vampi’s challenges."

Priest, an ordained Baptist minister (as a reminder to readers, prefers to be addressed as 'Priest'), shared his thoughts with Newsarama on how the prospect of writing Vampirella was first received by him, how it fits within his religious life, and how he's using it to examine humanity.

Newsarama: Priest, what makes Vampirella interesting to you?

Christopher Priest: The fangs. Definitely the fangs.

When DC Comics approached me about writing Deathstroke, I’d really never thought much about the character. It wasn’t a book I’d normally read because I probably wasn’t the audience the book was targeted toward. But it presented an interesting challenge: what new things could I find to say with this character and what unexplored areas of the character were there to develop?

When Dynamite Publisher Nick Barrucci said “Vampirella,” I had nearly the identical reaction. I was, of course, familiar with the character but wasn’t a Vampirella fan, wasn’t the audience for that book, which made me an odd choice. You’ll have to ask Nick why he made it.

My immediate reaction was exactly the same: what new thing could I bring to this property? Where is the untapped potential? That, for me, is the interesting part; craft a Vampirella narrative that broadens the audience for the property while (hopefully) not putting off the hardcore Vampi fans.

Nrama: So what was the answer to that? What is the story?

Priest: I read this Bruce Springsteen Rolling Stone interview a couple decades back (yah... decades...) around "Born In The USA," where Springsteen said something remarkable that’s stuck with me all this time, about how each of us needs community. He said something like, “Without community (by which I presume he meant human attachment and interaction) we’d likely go crazy and kill ourselves.”

Over many interpretations Vampirella has developed many versions of a supporting cast, but she is fundamentally alone, one of few of her race living on Earth. Considering the Boss’s statement, I wasn’t eager to create yet another supporting cast and then echo adventures she’s had before. For better or worse, I wanted my at-bat with the character to be unique and in some ways challenging.

So the thought occurred to give Vampirella that community, that human connection... and then have it all ripped away. Our story arc revolves around a plane crash which effectively terminates many connections Vampi has built while forging new ones.

Nrama: You're setting this in the real world. A real fish out of water scenario, but one you're playing at for deeper cultural issues. What's a woman like Vampirella likely to face here on Earth?

Priest: With all due respect for the legion of much better writers who’ve handled the character, as I mentioned, I probably was not the audience for this book. Vampirella was created with a satirical flair and Vampi herself was in on the joke; not quite breaking the fourth wall but offering up a knowing come-hither smile. She’s existed in a reality that routinely and, for me, far too benignly, accepts the supernatural as fact.

Here in the real world, vampires are merely a thing of myth and the reality of hyperfactual supernatural events are subject to the interpretation of the particular tribe one belongs to. It bothers me that, in 2019, DC and Marvel universes are still mostly portrayed in an idealized hyper-reality where the average man on the street simply accepts superheroes as fact and, in fact, refers to them literally as “heroes” or “villains,” which is absurd. There’s no news anchor in the world who would start a broadcast piece with, “Arch-villain Saddam Hussein...” even though that description would be apt.

The world our Vampirella series takes place in doesn’t believe in vampires. Or witches or warlocks or werewolves. This world seeks rational scientific explanation for paranormal phenomena which it greets with enormous skepticism.

Which isn’t to suggest no one will believe Vampirella exists but that that acceptance is not as matter of fact as it seems to be in most of this genre.

In terms of what she’s facing, her number one enemy is loneliness. I am, hopefully, writing a woman first, a story about a woman who loves and wants to be loved but whose circumstances are complicated by the fact she has fangs and drinks blood. The supernatural attributes are a metaphor for a universal human condition, for being either rejected or idealized (or, in the case of our series, both) because you are different. Anyone who’s ever moved to a new town or a new school or taken a new job should be able to identify with Vampi’s challenges.

Anyone who wears their hair a different way, listens to a different kind of music, embraces a different religion, anyone who steps outside of or gets shoved outside of the so-called “mainstream” can identify with our take on Vampirella. I hope it is precisely this universality of theme that helps broaden her audience; the Vampi tent is large enough for everyone.

Nrama: Someone walking around in that Trina Robbins-designed costume is bound to get some headturns. If I know you as much as I think I do, you're going to tackle that head on, right? How are you getting into the subject of the costume?

Priest: Well, yes, we will have a go at it. The basic argument is simple: where do you draw the line between women’s liberation and women’s exploitation, and who gets to draw it? Who gets to define femininity and why should an extraterrestrial have to submit to that definition?

It’s like the world woke up in the last few years and realized we actually have two genders and both of them matter.

So we now have heightened scrutiny of themes and behaviors and that poor bastard Joe Biden gets caught up in the switches. I’ll confess, I’m terrified of women because I’m a Joe Biden. I was taught to pay a lady a compliment and open doors and I want to be friendly and accessible but I’m absolutely terrified of having my good intentions taken in a bizarrely paranoid light.

It is comical to me that I am far too often seen as creepy by women - especially black women - because they have been conditioned by their personal experience and their media consumption to misinterpret a simple "Hello." These days I cannot pay a woman a complement without a legal preamble and assurances that, no, I am not hitting on you and even then I get the skunk eye of suspicion.

Which is a little insulting because this “guilty until proven innocent” defensive posture presumes I am other people or that the bar is set so low for me that I’ll jump into bed with just anybody I happen to meet. It’s like we’ve just gone too far now to the point where women are not just being protected but being alienated to some extent because I have no earthly clue how to deal with them and I’m frankly scared to shake their hand.

So, is Vampirella’s wardrobe choice sexist? I don’t know. Vampirella obviously doesn’t think so. As I see her, she comes from a culture much like Star Trek’s Betazed, where people wear little or nothing at all. If anything, Vampi wonders why we humans choose to smother ourselves in so much fabric and why we’re all so bound by self-loathing.

There are hundreds of women who enjoy cosplaying as Vampirella, and maybe hundreds of thousands offended by the character. How do we reconcile all of that for the 21st century?

The one thing I won’t do is cover her up. I accepted the gig: write Vampirella. If you change the outfit, she’s no longer Vampirella. Frankly, her costume is the only thing about her (well, okay, that and her pansexuality) that makes her at all shocking or controversial.

My goal, and the readers will have to let us know if we’re passing or failing, is to make this a book as much about femininity as about bloodsucking. The storyline is driven by women, mostly populated by women, of all shapes and sizes and ethnicities, and most of them dress as sexy as they dare. The singer/rapper Lizzo is a terrific example of this. Is her blatant sexuality liberating or is she being exploited? How about Beyoncé? Do we put Vampi in a raincoat but cheer Bey on?

See what I mean? I’m screwed either way.

Nrama: So Priest - Vampirella's here on Earth. What would you do if you found yourself, I don't know, sharing a cab with Vampi?

Priest: I’d ask the driver to pull over and let me out. I’m a Christian, so I have these issues with all of that “fornicating in your mind” stuff. I don’t live a perfect life but I try to avoid cluttering up my conscience. Among the things the printed page cannot convey is the amazing, intoxicating glow and, yes, smell of a woman.

All women are beautiful, from 8 to 80, regardless of weight, height, or nationality. I wouldn’t share a cab with a woman as under-dressed as Vampi, which sounds hypocritical because I’m writing her. But I write Deathstroke, too, and wouldn’t share a cab with him, either.

Nrama: On the flip side of this, Vampirella's stranded on Earth. What's going through her mind in all of this?

Priest: How stupid and primitive we are. It’s not arrogance. I believe any visitor from another world would surf the net for a few hours and come away shaking their heads. I watched an episode of Little Miss Atlanta yesterday. Jesus. We’re just idiots. The moms fighting and bickering and cursing - cursing - in front of these little girls, berating the little girls. This sickening child abuse... That's entertainment?

I have Christian friends who will criticize me for writing Vampi but they watch that crap.

Nrama: This comes over a decade after your previous stint with Vampirella - Harris Publishing's Vampirella Revelations with artist Eric Battle. That run had some issues, but you're back here again. What makes is something you want to return to?

Priest: *scratches head* Really? I did a run...? I remember doing a silent issue... and vaguely remember doing something with Eric, a good bud. But that was way back. I really hadn’t considered this a “return.” I just pivoted and stared into Barrucci’s hypnotic vampire eyes and ran dozens of scenarios through my feeble brain, coming to one conclusion: this would be an interesting experiment, a writer’s challenge. Writers love challenges.

Nrama: Big picture, what are your goals with this ongoing?

Priest: To not have the women of America torch my house. This run will be as different a take on Vampi as any that have come before.

Which is not to say “better;” “better” is subjective. I’m sure a great many Vampi fans will hate what we’re up to. Maybe they’ll come along, maybe I’ll get fired. If I wasn’t nervous about it, it wouldn’t be worth doing.

Editor's Note: The above interview was conducted via email eariler this week, and we received all of Mr. Priest's responses along with all our original questions. Newsarama asked Priest if he would respond to follow-up questions Friday by email. He agreed and those questions and answers follow.

Nrama: Priest, our original questions to you were about the Vampirella comic book and our role is to talk about that and not audit your personal life, but your responses appear to be hyper aware of a social climate you seem to lament in terms of relationships between genders and conduct towards one another.

Priest: I lament the social climate in general, on all levels. I lament our lack of civility and lack of empathy, lack of patience and understanding. I hate the way we assassinate one another with our thumbs, all this hostility in social and other media. It's not just gender issues.

Nrama: Yet empathizing with Joe Biden without citing the actual specific behavior he’s under scrutiny for, stating things like "the amazing, intoxicating glow and, yes, smell of a woman" and by offering you’re “often seen as creepy by women,” it seems like intentionally inviting the sort of reaction/assumptions you state you’re “afraid” of and inviting the same scrutiny Biden is under.

Was this was your intent and are you prepared for pushback to your words and questions to be asked?

Priest: Wow, there's a lot to unpack, there. But let's start by saying I seriously doubt anyone reading this is NOT aware of the Biden issue to which I am referring. 

I come neither to defend Biden nor to bury him, so I think you're probably taking my "poor" Joe reference a bit too seriously. I wasn't trying to litigate Biden, only to make a point about how hyper-sensitive and overly politicized our nation is and how this will impact Vampirella in her series.

Assembling disparate quotes to paint me as some kind of deviant makes that point for me. I stand by my statements. "...the amazing, intoxicating glow and, yes, smell of a woman..."

 is something difficult if not impossible to convey in literature (which was my point), but your question was about me sitting in a taxi with a near-naked woman and I answered that honestly. 

And my point was relevant to understanding the challenges and conflicts Vampirella will face in this series.

This is the environment Vampirella finds herself in, people misinterpreting her actions, words, and motives. This is why I mentioned it, to place the work we are doing with Vampirella into context.

Were a person like Vampi walking around in our world (or riding in a taxi with me), she would be misinterpreted, and every word she says would be drilled into looking for the worst possible interpretation of it. I can't help but wonder why anyone anywhere speaks publicly because no words spoken by anyone can withstand this level of ridiculous scrutiny.

Nrama: In another response you state “It’s like the world woke up in the last few years and realized we actually have two genders and both of them matter”. While not assuming your intent one way or another, it seems it to overlook genders outside the male/female paradigm. Can you speak to that?

Priest: Gender: noun

1. either of the two sexes (male and female), especially when considered with reference to social and cultural differences rather than biological ones. The term is also used more broadly to denote a range of identities that do not correspond to established ideas of male and female. "a condition that affects people of both genders"

I wrote an ecumenical commentary in support of gender and and LGBTQ issues, Chris. I invite everyone to read it.

It was a simple interview. I was promoting a comic book and, as a really busy writer, I was typing really fast and speaking honestly while engaging with you. What I won’t do, not even for my own safety, is censor myself or try and anticipate every horrible way someone might choose to misinterpret something I've written or said.

 If anything, that just makes my point for me about how free speech is being compromised. It's a tough environment to publish comic books in because every publisher is terrified by the spectrum of extreme possible reactions from an increasingly intolerant environment where everybody's playing "gotcha" and looking for the worst possible and most extremely negative interpretations of everything.

The whole point of free speech is my duty to defend others' rights to have it, not to shout them down or demonize them.

[mst3kproject]

Mole Men Against the Son of Hercules

Mole Men and dudes in loincloths?  Gosh, what more could an MST3K blog possibly want?

Our hero is Machestes (pronounced either Majestic or My Chest Grease, depending on who’s saying it), who is out seeking adventure and righting wrongs, or whatever it is he does, when he comes upon a beach where some soldiers are getting their butts kicked by people in white fun fur.  My Chest Grease fights off the fur people, but he’s too late to save the soldiers. Instead, he has to get the story from the last survivor back at their village – the Hideous Mole Men took a few people prisoner and slaughtered the rest!

Naturally, My Chest Grease isn’t going to stand for that. His next foray against the Mole Men manages to free a captive named Bangor, an even buffer, oilier dude who wears an even shorter skirt.  Bangor guides him to the valley where the Mole Men keep their horses, and the two infiltrate the underground caverns through the simple means of pretending to be asleep and letting the Mole Men capture them.  Once inside, they learn that not only are the villagers being kept as slaves, Princess Salleira is going to be sacrificed on the upcoming full moon!

The Mole Men are very disappointing.  Under their amusing fun fur hats and wooden horns, which make them look like they’re trying to cosplay Where the Wild Things Are, they’re just ordinary guys who’ve been cursed to wither away to dust if they go out in the sun.  Those aren’t Mole Men, those are just Pale Day Players!  They even execute criminals in the same way the Albino Sumerians did, by exposing them to the sunlight.

I’ve seen a lot of shitty day-for-night since I began this blog.  So much, in fact, that I rarely talk about it anymore – there’s only so much I can say about it before it gets boring.  I feel the need to bring it up here, though.  Mole Men Against the Son of Hercules still isn’t quite as bad as Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla but it’s right up there with Attack of the The Eye Creatures… and like Attack of the The Eye Creatures, it’s made extra-obnoxious by the fact that the Mole Men’s weakness is sunlight!  It’s impossible not to observe that they spend an awful lot of time in the sunshine for beings who will supposedly die when it touches them, and it takes you out of the movie every time.  You can see blue sky in half the shots, for crying out loud.

I’ve been trying to find a place in reviews to say something nice about a movie no matter how bad that movie is, but Mole Men Against the Son of Hercules is very short on redeeming qualities.  Everything about it is just bad.  Bad photography, bad acting, bad costumes, cruelty to animals, you name it.  It’s far too long, with ‘plot twists’ that are utterly predictable and dull.  The good guys wear stock loincloths and never show evidence of any sort of culture, whereas the bad guys are a bizarre amalgam of Egyptian, Mayan, and Vegas Revue.  There’s a bit where a line of horses are tripped by a rope, and I can only hope they got the shot they wanted on the first take.  The worst thing about the movie, however, is its characters and storytelling choices, which are often not only bad but downright offensive.

Take, for example, Bangor.  He’s the first black character we meet in the movie. After laying low while My Chest Grease fights off the Mole Men who have captured him, Bangor immediately lays down at his savior’s feet and declares that he will be his slave forever out of gratitude for saving his life.  He continues to behave like My Chest Grease’s servant even after the other man insists that he doesn’t believe in slavery, and the story emphasizes repeatedly that Bangor may be strong but he’s not very bright – when forced to fight My Chest Grease, Bangor knocks himself out attempting to headbutt him!

The second black character is Tulak, one of Mole Queen Halismuya’s handmaidens.  Black people in this movie are slaves and servants.  Even when they are taking an active part in the plot, they don’t do things for themselves but only in order to help and further the heroism of the white characters.  Based on the dialogue one gets the impression that the characters aren’t intended to be racist but the writers sure were, and it is gross.

Then there’s Queen Halismuya herself, who dreams of seeing the sun (and of My Chest Grease’s rock-hard glutes, but that’s less romantic). Most of the Mole Men are just random white guys made to look whiter by slathering them in Observer makeup, but Halismuya is Romani actress Moira Orfei, whom we saw as the Queen of the Amazons in The Loves of Hercules.  She’s treated as some exotic bauble instead of a human being, and her character is cruel, despotic, and a voyeuristic sexual sadist. She orders Bangor and My Chest Grease to fight each other to the death because watching it turns her on, later tries to have My Chest Grease crushed with stone slabs for the same reason, and makes potential suitors prove their worth by cage-fighting a guy in a monkey costume.  This sexualization of violence is another thing in Mole Men Against the Son of Hercules that’s just really icky.

The monkey cage fight is at least the funniest thing in the movie.  The suit looks like a Hallowe’en costume version of the Australopithecines from 2001: A Space Odyssey and you can see the actor’s eyes and mouth moving behind the mask.  There’s also one bit I really like, where the actor hangs onto the bars of the cage with his hands while using his feet to strangle My Chest Grease, which is one of the most believably simian things I’ve ever seen from an actor in a costume.  Points for that bit, at least.

Halismuya and her slaves, who are all from different conquered peoples, are the only Mole Women we see in the movie.  I kept thinking this was going to be a plot point, especially after we learn that Halismuya herself was kidnapped from another tribe as a child to introduce some sun-resistant genes into the bloodline, but it never was.

The people who are supposedly the main characters are entirely devoid of interest, because we know nothing about them and their relationships.  My Chest Grease arrives in the movie on a raft, just as his counterpart did in Colossus and the Headhunters, but we have even less idea what the hell he’s doing there.  All the people he meets seem to know who he is and greet him by name, but I don’t think he’s actually part of this small community because surely if he were he wouldn’t have to be introduced to people like Bangor and Salleira.  Why does he decide to help these people, besides just because he’s The Hero?

Bangor and Tulak seem to have some history together but we have only the vaguest idea what it is.  Their dialogue suggests that they’re from a different culture than the white villagers but if so there’s no clarification of how Bangor ended up as Salleira’s bodyguard – if that’s even what the was doing, because that’s not clear either.

Princess Salleira is never introduced to us as a character we ought to care about.  We don’t know her or her family.  Calling her ‘princess’ serves as a shorthand way of telling us she needs to be rescued without actually having to bother with who she is.  She is a mere MacGuffin, the equivalent of the suitcase in Pulp Fiction with lipstick on.  She spends most of the movie hiding in a sacred grotto, mostly forgotten by the characters and completely forgotten by the audience.  I kind of want to call her a sexy lamp, but she’s not even that, because she’s never presented as sexy – thank goodness, since I think she’s supposed to be about fourteen or fifteen years old.  She’s just a lamp.

The movie behaves as if Halismuya has redeemed herself by sparing My Chest Grease’s life and declaring that seeing the sun means more to her than all her power and riches, but she’s still a tyrant who has wiped out entire civilizations simply out of jealousy that they can get a tan and she can’t.  It’s gonna take one more than one act of mercy and a declaration of love to make us forget that.  Especially when even after she’s supposed to have become sympathetic, she still chains up and tortures Bangor to make him tell her where My Chest Grease and Salleira are!

The ending sucks.  Halismuya learns of her true ancestry and gets to see the sun for the first time, only to stumble over a cliff while gazing at a rainbow.  I guess this is supposed to be ironic.  It’s just kind of stupid and denies her the full redemption the movie wanted her to have.

I never really cared about what was going on this whole story, and it’s mostly because I never knew what any of these characters really wanted.  Why is My Chest Grease saving these people?  What good are the Mole Men’s diamonds when they have nobody to trade with?  Why do the Mole Men want to sacrifice Princess Salleira and why do they forget about it immediately after she’s rescued?  The whole thing is a mess and nobody seems to do anything for any reason other than because that’s their role in the movie: Hero, Damsel, Evil Queen, Black Sidekick, Villainous Priest.  It sucks, but not in the fun kind of way that the title made me hope.  Were it not for Paul Wynter’s glistening deltoids I probably would have fallen asleep.

[inloveandwords]

This post was inspired by Ally’s series (which was inspired by Lia at Lost in a Story).

It works like this

Go to your Goodreads to-read shelf.

Order on ascending date added.

Take the first 5 (or 10 (or even more!) if you’re feeling adventurous) books

Read the synopsis of the books

Decide: keep it or should it go?

The Long Road Home by Danielle Steel

Bestselling novelist Danielle Steel takes us on a harrowing journey into the heart of America’s hidden shame in a novel that explores the power of forgiveness, the dark side of childhood, and one woman’s unbreakable spirit.

From her secret perch at the top of the stairs, Gabriella Harrison watches the guests arrive at her parents’ lavish Manhattan townhouse. At seven, she knows she is an intruder in her parents’ party, in her parents’ life. But she can’t resist the magic. Later, she waits for the click, click, click of her mother’s high heels, the angry words, and the pain that will follow. Gabriella already knows to hide her bruises, certain she is to blame for her mother’s rage–and her father’s failure to protect her. Her world is a confusing blend of terror, betrayal, and pain. Her parents’ aristocratic world is no safeguard against the abuse that knows no boundaries, respects no person, no economic lines. Gabriella knows that, try as she might, there is no safe place for her to hide.

Even as a child, her only escape is through the stories she writes. Only writing can dull the pain of her lonely world. And when her parents’ marriage collapses, Gabriella is given her first reprieve, as her father disappears, and then her mother abandons her to a convent. There, Gabriella’s battered body and soul begin to mend. Amid the quiet safety and hushed rituals of the nuns, Gabriella grows into womanhood in a safe, peaceful world. Then a young priest comes into her life.

Father Joe Connors never questioned his vocation until Gabriella entered the confessional and shared her soul. Confession leads to friendship. And friendship grows dangerously into love. Like Gabriella, Joe is haunted by the pain of his childhood, consumed by guilt over a family tragedy, for which he blames himself. With Gabriella, Joe takes the first steps toward healing. But their relationship leads to tragedy as Joe must choose between the priesthood and Gabriella, and life in the real world where he fears he does not belong, and cannot cope.

Exiled and disgraced, and nearly destroyed, Gabriella struggles to survive on her own in New York. There she seeks healing and escape through her writing again, this time as an adult, and her life as a writer begins. But just when she thinks she is beyond hurt, Gabriella is once again betrayed by someone she trusts. Brought to the edge of despair, physically attacked beyond recognition and belief, haunted by abuse in her present and her past, she nonetheless manages to find hope again, and the courage to face the past. On a pilgrimage destined to bring her face-to-face with those who sought to destroy her in her early life, she finds forgiveness, freedom from guilt, and healing from abuse. When Gabriella faces what was done to her, and why, she herself is free at last.

With profound insight, Danielle Steel has created a vivid portrait of an abused child’s broken world, and the courage necessary to face it and free herself from the past. A work of daring and compassion, a tale of healing that will shock and touch and move you to your very soul, it exposes the terror of child abuse, and opens the doors on a subject that affects us all. The Long Road Home is more than riveting fiction. It is an inspiration to us all. A work of courage, hope, and love.

Date added to TBR:Jun 27, 2011 Keep or Ditch?Ditch Comments: I recently got rid of all of my paperback books… well, most of them… including many of, if not all, of my Danielle Steel books.

♥

Collide (Collide #1) by Gail McHugh

A missed first encounter…

Colliding with a second chance…

On the heels of graduating college and trying to cope with her mother’s death, Emily Cooper moves to New York City for a fresh start.

While harboring secrets of his own, Dillon Parker takes care of Emily through her grief. Knowing he can’t live without her by his side, he’s sweet, thoughtful, and everything Emily has ever wanted in a man.

Until she meets Gavin Blake—a rich and notorious playboy who is dangerously sexy and charming as hell. Emily tries to deny the instant connection she feels, but Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is not inclined to let go so easily. Recovering from his own painful past, Gavin will stop at nothing to win Emily over.

This unexpected encounter compels Emily to question her decisions, forcing her to make a choice that will destroy friendships, shatter hearts, and forever change her life.

Date added to TBR:Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch?Ditch Comments:I’m so over the rich, playboy trope.

♥

The All Souls Real-Time Reading Companion (All Souls Trilogy) by Deborah Harkness

This exclusive ALL SOULS trilogy real-time reading guide brings to life the world created by Deborah Harkness in A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES and SHADOW OF NIGHT, taking you through the auspicious dates of the story with exciting behind-the-scenes extra content.

A world of witches, daemons and vampires. A manuscript which holds the secrets of their past and the key to their future. Diana and Matthew – the forbidden love at the heart of it.

It began with A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES. It continued with SHADOW OF NIGHT.

Now, as THE BOOK OF LIFE has brought Deborah Harkness’s stunning No.1 internationally bestselling trilogy to its finale, re-immerse yourself in the rich fantasy world she has created and enrich your experience of the heart-stopping conclusion.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch?Ditch Comments:Clearly the me from July 2016 was thoroughly obsessed with this series.

♥

Arsen: A Broken Love Story by Mia Asher

One glance was all it took…

I’m a cheater. I’m a liar. My whole life is a mess.

I love a man. No, I love two men… I think.

One makes love to me. The other sets me on fire. One is my rock. The other is my kryptonite.

I’m broken, lost, and disgusted with myself.

But I can’t stop. This is my story. My broken love story.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Keep Comments: This sounds really good!

♥

From Ashes (From Ashes #1) by Molly McAdams

Aside from her dad, who passed away when she was six, Cassidy Jameson has only ever trusted one man: her best friend, Tyler. So of course she follows him to Texas when he leaves for college. She just didn’t expect to be so drawn to their new roommate, Gage, a gorgeous guy with a husky Southern drawl. The only problem? He’s Tyler’s cousin.

Gage Carson was excited to share an apartment off campus with his cousin. He didn’t mind that Tyler was bringing the mysterious friend he’d heard about since they were kids … until the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen jumps out of his cousin’s Jeep. There’s something about Cassi that makes Gage want to give her everything. Too bad Tyler has warned him that she’s strictly off-limits.

Despite everything keeping them apart, Cassi and Gage dance dangerously close to the touch they’re both been craving. But when disaster sends her running into Tyler’s arms, Cassi will have to decide whether to face the demons of her past … or to burn her chance at a future with Gage.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Keep Comments: The ratings are really high!

The Dead Travel Fast by Deanna Raybourn

A husband, a family, a comfortable life: Theodora Lestrange lives in terror of it all. With a modest inheritance and the three gowns that comprise her entire wardrobe, Theodora leaves Edinburgh–and a disappointed suitor–far behind. She is bound for Rumania, where tales of vampires are still whispered, to visit an old friend and write the book that will bring her true independence.

She arrives at a magnificent, decaying castle in the Carpathians, replete with eccentric inhabitants: the ailing dowager; the troubled steward; her own fearful friend, Cosmina. But all are outstripped in dark glamour by the castle’s master, Count Andrei Dragulescu.

Bewildering and bewitching in equal measure, the brooding nobleman ignites Theodora’s imagination and awakens passions in her that she can neither deny nor conceal. His allure is superlative, his dominion over the superstitious town, absolute–Theodora may simply be one more person under his sway.

Before her sojourn is ended–or her novel completed–Theodora will have encountered things as strange and terrible as they are seductive. For obsession can prove fatal…and she is in danger of falling prey to more than desire.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Ditch Comments: Eh.

♥

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night.

But behind the scenes, a fierce competition is underway—a duel between two young magicians, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood expressly for this purpose by their mercurial instructors. Unbeknownst to them, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battle of imagination and will. Despite themselves, however, Celia and Marco tumble headfirst into love—a deep, magical love that makes the lights flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands.

True love or not, the game must play out, and the fates of everyone involved, from the cast of extraordinary circus performers to the patrons, hang in the balance, suspended as precariously as the daring acrobats overhead.

Written in rich, seductive prose, this spell-casting novel is a feast for the senses and the heart.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Keep Comments: I can’t believe this has been on my TBR for so long!

♥

Nightshade (Nightshade #1) by Andrea Cremer

Calla Tor has always known her destiny: After graduating from the Mountain School, she’ll be the mate of sexy alpha wolf Ren Laroche and fight with him, side by side, ruling their pack and guarding sacred sites for the Keepers. But when she violates her masters’ laws by saving a beautiful human boy out for a hike, Calla begins to question her fate, her existence, and the very essence of the world she has known.

By following her heart, she might lose everything- including her own life. Is forbidden love worth the ultimate sacrifice?

“A finely-wrought compelling tale of romance and treachery…” -Cynthia Leitich Smith (New York Times bestselling author of Eternal and Tantalize)

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Keep Comments: This sounds super interesting, actually.

♥

The Conspiracy of Us (The Conspiracy of Us #1) by Maggie Hall

Avery West’s newfound family can shut down Prada when they want to shop in peace, and can just as easily order a bombing when they want to start a war. Part of a powerful and dangerous secret society called the Circle, they believe Avery is the key to an ancient prophecy. Some want to use her as a pawn. Some want her dead.

To unravel the mystery putting her life in danger, Avery must follow a trail of clues from the monuments of Paris to the back alleys of Istanbul with two boys who work for the Circle — beautiful, volatile Stellan and mysterious, magnetic Jack. But as the clues expose a stunning conspiracy that might plunge the world into World War 3, she discovers that both boys are hiding secrets of their own. Now she will have to choose not only between freedom and family — but between the boy who might help her save the world, and the one she’s falling in love with.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Ditch Comments: Meh.

♥

The Raven Boys (The Raven Cycle #1) by Maggie Stiefvater

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.”

It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive.

Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her.

His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.

But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little.

For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

From Maggie Stiefvater, the bestselling and acclaimed author of the Shiver trilogy and The Scorpio Races, comes a spellbinding new series where the inevitability of death and the nature of love lead us to a place we’ve never been before.

Date added to TBR: Jul 31, 2016 Keep or Ditch? Keep Comments: This is another one that I can’t believe I haven’t read after so long!

♥

Here are the stats

Starting Total TBR Count: 1994 Previous Total TBR Count: 1951 Updated Total TBR Count: 1988 Total Ditched Today: 5 Total Kept Today: 5

Bye-Bye Books: Decluttering my TBR April 2019 This post was inspired by Ally’s series (which was inspired by Lia at Lost in a Story…

[icallherdaddy93-blog]

Goblin somebody Backlash Explained: Why it is the Most disputed Anime This Season

Goblin somebody stands because the most polarizing of this season’s broadcast anime offerings. From the primary episode, the show has generated contentious opinions concerning the direction, framing, and use of loaded material (Warning: the subsequent can embody discussion of sexual assault). The uproar round the graphic nature of White Fox’s adaptation of Kumo Kagyu’s light-weight novel series caught Crunchyroll without notice. The streaming service speedily issued Associate in Nursing apology and place a content warning on the primary episode and every one ensuant episodes of the show. What specifically histrion most attention to the current on the face of it ancient fantasy anime?

 Goblin somebody began as a series of sunshine novels (although the core of the story could originate from fanfiction boards) printed on-line by author Kumo Kagyu starting in early 2016. Since then, eight such novels are discharged in Japan, 5 of that have official English translations. The series verified to be therefore well-liked that Kagyu fenced in a by-product prequel titled hobgoblin Slayer: Year One. A second by-product novel received a serialized unharness consisting of 9 chapters across problems with Gangan GA on-line. Kosuke Kurose has been adapting the sunshine novels into manga type since mid-2016. a shot by Kento Eida to adapt Year One began this past Sep.

 Related: ten Fantasy comes presently In Development (And ten Rumored)

 That brings America to the anime adaptation that launched at the start of Gregorian calendar month. With a crisp vogue and an eye catching title, hobgoblin somebody brought in several viewers searching for a brand new action series. although hobgoblin somebody had gained quality in Japan, several within the west had ne'er detected of the dark fantasy heroic tale.

And hobgoblin somebody is actually dark, despite a visible vogue that may every now and then seem indistinguishable from a a lot of lightsome shonen series like that point i used to be Reincarnated as a Slime. hobgoblin somebody tells the story of a person UN agency created it his life’s mission to destroy all goblins. It’s a brutal show wherever the careless and also the innocent have their bodies ripped apart on screen. Monsters go well on the far side what a typical viewer may expect with their monstrous attacks.

 The series strives to place the viewer within the indefinite quantity of its protagonist, the titular hobgoblin somebody. the primary few episodes define his hate of the goblins and also the detachment he feels from those around him. None of the characters even have names; the audience just is aware of their titles or roles.

 To get the viewers into the mental attitude of abhorring goblins, hobgoblin somebody builds a fairyland supported the concept that there’s a race of monsters out there waiting to rape anyone they are available across. and that is not hyperbole; within the fiction of hobgoblin somebody, that’s specifically however goblins reproduce. That brutality, terribly honestly shown on screen, caused Associate in Nursing uproar.

 The 1st episode of hobgoblin somebody focuses on a 15-year-old priest change of integrity her first adventuring party, a gaggle of 3 equally inexperienced, however spirited kids - a set of personalities that a typical shonen may pay a complete season exploring. By the half dozen minute mark, things go awfully awry. Members of the cluster suffer horrific stab wounds, and die to swarming goblins with clubs and arrows and knives. Then comes the scene of goblins rending the vesture off one among the party members before they start to rape her.

 It’s almost sexy, however the audience sees and hears the motions. The scene nearly repeats itself with the priest and her last remaining companion, till the hobgoblin somebody makes his start, interrupting the deed. The armored adventurer kills the goblins solely to tell the living priest that her wounded companion cannot be saved from the poison slowly pumping through her veins. Our protagonist then mercy kills her as she begs for death. the remainder of the episode consists of the pair traveling through the cavern system; they discover the cut limbs of her companions, rescue variety of rape victims, and eventually hobgoblin somebody bashes a few of hobgoblin kids to death.

[thathijabimisfit-blog]

Goblin mortal Backlash Explained: Why it is the Most disputable Anime This Season

Goblin mortal stands because the most polarizing of this season’s broadcast anime offerings. From the primary episode, the show has generated contentious opinions regarding the direction, framing, and use of loaded subject material (Warning: the subsequent can embody discussion of sexual assault). The uproar round the graphic nature of White Fox’s adaptation of Kumo Kagyu’s light-weight novel series caught Crunchyroll abruptly. The streaming service speedily issued associate apology and place a content warning on the primary episode and every one ulterior episodes of the show. What specifically John Drew such a lot attention to the current ostensibly ancient fantasy anime?

 Goblin mortal began as a series of sunshine novels (although the core of the story could originate from fanfiction boards) printed on-line by author Kumo Kagyu starting in early 2016. Since then, eight such novels are discharged in Japan, 5 of that have official English translations. The series proven to be therefore well-liked that Kagyu fenced in a production prequel titled hobgoblin Slayer: Year One. A second production novel received a serialized unleash consisting of 9 chapters across problems with Gangan GA on-line. Kosuke Kurose has been adapting the sunshine novels into manga kind since mid-2016. a shot by Kento Eida to adapt Year One began this past Sept.

 Related: ten Fantasy comes presently In Development (And ten Rumored)

 That brings North American nation to the anime adaptation that launched at the start of Oct. With a crisp vogue and an attention grabbing title, hobgoblin mortal brought in several viewers trying to find a replacement action series. tho' hobgoblin mortal had gained quality in Japan, several within the west had ne'er detected of the dark fantasy heroic tale.

And hobgoblin mortal is definitely dark, despite a visible vogue that may now and then seem indistinguishable from a a lot of lightsome shonen series like that point i used to be Reincarnated as a Slime. hobgoblin mortal tells the story of a person UN agency created it his life’s mission to destroy all goblins. It’s a brutal show wherever the careless and also the innocent have their bodies ripped apart on screen. Monsters go well on the far side what a typical viewer would possibly expect with their grievous attacks.

 The series strives to place the viewer within the indefinite quantity of its protagonist, the titular hobgoblin mortal. the primary few episodes define his hate of the goblins and also the detachment he feels from those around him. None of the characters even have names; the audience just is aware of their titles or roles.

 To get the viewers into the outlook of abhorring goblins, hobgoblin mortal builds a fairyland supported the thought that there’s a race of monsters out there waiting to rape anyone they are available across. and that is not hyperbole; within the fiction of hobgoblin mortal, that’s specifically however goblins reproduce. That brutality, terribly honestly shown on screen, caused associate uproar.

 The initial episode of hobgoblin mortal focuses on a 15-year-old priest connexion her first adventuring party, a bunch of 3 equally inexperienced, however spirited children - a group of personalities that a typical shonen would possibly pay a complete season exploring. By the half dozen minute mark, things go awfully awry. Members of the cluster suffer horrific stab wounds, and die to swarming goblins with clubs and arrows and knives. Then comes the scene of goblins cacophonic the covering off one in all the party members before they start to rape her.

 It’s virtually sexy, however the audience sees and hears the motions. The scene nearly repeats itself with the priest and her last remaining companion, till the hobgoblin mortal makes his unveiling, interrupting the deed. The armored adventurer kills the goblins solely to tell the living priest that her wounded companion cannot be saved from the poison slowly pumping through her veins. Our protagonist then mercy kills her as she begs for death. the remainder of the episode consists of the couple traveling through the cavern system; they discover the cut off limbs of her companions, rescue variety of rape victims, and at last hobgoblin mortal bashes one or two of hobgoblin kids to death.