#there is no mercy for those who have not seen the dollars movies in a while for photos that simply say 'from a dollars movie' I AM THOSE

[soupy-harry]

Clint Eastwood on set of For A Few Dollars More, 1965 [X]

[i-want-my-iwtv]

I've seen Brad pitt get a bit criticized for his role as Louis, but maybe it's the script's fault too?

Part of that criticism was about his appearance, to be fair, not matching the book description. I think he wanted to keep the long hair for Legends of the Fall, which is listed as 1994 (release date January 13, 1995):

But yes, there have been articles/interviews in which Brad has said that he signed on for IWTV partly bc he was drawn to the religious struggles the character went through in the book, and at some point along the way, it was pretty much all cut out. There's a tiny bit of talk about evil with Armand, briefly!

Brad Pitt, in an article by Mike Scott, NOLA.com | The Times-Picayune:

“Another big problem was the script, which was written by Rice herself, taking her first shot at writing a screenplay. Pitt hadn’t seen it until two weeks before shooting started. When he finally did get a copy, he realized that everything in Rice’s book that was interesting about his character … was gone.

And so here he was, a rising young actor and budding sex symbol, stuck in an uninteresting, passive role.

“In the book you have this guy asking, ‘Who am I?’ Which was probably applicable to me at that time: ‘Am I good? Am I of the angels? Am I bad? Am I of the devil?’ In the book it is a guy going on this search of discovery. And in the meantime, he has this Lestat character that he’s entranced by and abhors. … In the movie, they took the sensational aspects of Lestat and made that the pulse of the film, and those things are very enjoyable and very good, but for me, there was just nothing to do — you just sit and watch.”

@merciful-death's tags [X]:

#[ Interesting to read this ]

#[ I’m inclined to agree with Brad Pitt ]

#[ because while I do love the movie there’s definitely big differences between movie-Louis and book-Louis ]

#[ going only off the movie you would think Louis to be passive ]

#[ but in the book he’s got a lot more depth and definitely is not ‘passive’ ]

#[ Louis doesn’t really shed that passivity until the burning of the theatre in the movie ]

#[ while in the book you have him fighting Lestat from the start ]

#[ and I will always find that scene with the priest a big turning point]

#[ which is why it makes me so sad that they scripted it but never filmed it ]

Then, the filming itself, I think all that filming at night and being miserable all the time ended up taking more out of Brad than he thought it would:

“I’m telling you, one day it broke me. It was like, ‘Life’s too short for this quality of life.’ I called David Geffen, who was a good friend. He was a producer, and he’d just come to visit. I said, ‘David, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do it. What will it cost me to get out?’ And he goes, very calmly, ‘Forty million dollars.’ And I go, 'OK, thank you.’ It actually took the anxiety off of me. I was like, 'I’ve got to man up and ride this through, and that’s what I’m going to do.’”

…Still, he says he doesn’t necessarily regret “Interview with a Vampire.”

“I don’t lament the failures,” he said. “The failures prepare you for the next one. It’s a step you needed to take, and I’m all for it.”

[cobrakaisb]

hi bestie! i’ve had this idea for a while, but i haven’t seen it. can you do like a head cannon of what miguel, robby, and eli/hawk would be like as an older brother? it can be totally based off what you think :) thank you <3

of course! sorry it took me a while but i needed to to be perfect. i also added two bonus boys at the end (hope you don’t mind). little note: i wrote this with a fem reader in mind because of the mentions of periods. 

Having the Cobra Kai boys as older brothers

miguel:

you and miguel are so close

the age difference does not affect him at all

he is very protective of you before cobra kai

but once he joins cobra kai that over protectiveness 📈📈📈

let’s just say that this kid is bothering you

miguel definitely notices and scares them off

you act annoyed about it, but you’re highkey grateful that he did that

“my brother is the all valley champ so back the fuck off”

you were so excited for him at the all valley

you wore one of his cobra kai shirts and everything

miguel is so supportive of whatever extra curricular you do

karate? yes he stans, theater? you bet he’s at all your shows, dance? you know he’s bringing you some flowers, another sport? he’s at every game cheering for you

miguel knows about periods, and he has no shame in buying you tampons/pads

“hey y/n, i noticed you were running low so i got you some more” 🥺🥺 

you wear his hoodies all the time

they are very big on you, but very comfy

you help him with sam

“i punched her in the face” “what why?”

“y/n what do you think about this?” “it looks great miguel. sam will love it”

when he dates tory you're a little on edge about it

“miguel, weren’t you like trying to win sam back two days ago?” “i like tory now” “okayy” 

johnny loves you as much as he loves miguel

y’all hang out together

his friends are your friends and vice versa

your friends definitely think that miguel is cute but “eww that’s my brother”

when miguel is in the coma you blame johnny

“he showed mercy because of you! you did this!”

but then you cry into his chest

when miguel wakes up you’re at school

you don’t find out until after school when carmen picks you up

you hug him so tight, rambling about how much you love him

“i love you too y/n now get off me”

you can’t keep up with his love life

“y/n i’m with sam again” “what?” 

overall your bond is amazing and you couldn’t ask for a better brother

robby:

you and robby both live with your mother (because we aren’t basic here)

you’re the odd one out (your mom does drugs and robby sells them)

“you got caught with molly? i thought you and sara were hooking up?” “the drug y/n”

when robby starts being friends with those punk kids, the two of you start to drift

you actually go to school, unlike him

“just skip y/n” “no robby”

it isn’t until he gets back on track because of daniel that you two start getting close again

“i’m gonna get back on track y/n i promise” and you believe him

you go to the skatepark with him

he skates while you read or draw or skate (whatever you’re into tbh)

when you’re on your period robby will buy you stuff, but he doesn’t like to

he feels so awkward about it

“um are these the right ones?” “yes thank you”

robby gives the best hugs (idk why he just does)

i feel like robby is also really good at reading emotions

like he knows when you’ve had a bad day at school or when you’re stressed about something

he also knows how to cheer you up :)))

“i know you did not just eat cereal with water???” “and what about it?”

when your mom comes back after being gone for days robby pulls you behind him

because he really doesn’t want you to be exposed to that

you cry into robby’s chest once she leaves

“why can’t she just be our mom?”

when daniel asks robby to move in with him he denies

but quickly explains that he can’t leave you

daniel tells robby that you can come too

“thanks for helping my brother mr.larusso, i really appreciate it”

you definitely walk in on robby and sam making out at some point

“hey robby- oh my god i’m so sorry” slaps hand over eyes and immediately leaves the room

when robby pushes miguel off the balcony it's the first time you’re genuinely scared of him

you visit him in jail, but it takes awhile for you to go

“i’m sorry y/n” “i know robby”

you just understand each other

when robby joins cobra kai he tries to get you in too

you agree to one lesson, and know it’s not for you

you have many arguments about this

“he’s brainwashing you!” “he knows what’s best for me, for us!”

robby feels so betrayed when he finds out you’re staying with johnny

the two of you definitely drift after that, but you find your way back to each other, you always do

eli/hawk:

okay so before he flips the script you defend eli, no matter what

you cry with him about the bullies and definitely try to fight kyler more than once

you wear his sweaters (fight me on it)

you encourage him to do karate

when he flips the script you’re very happy for him he finally feels confident in himself and you love that for him

now the roles are reversed

hawk protects you now

no one even dares to look at you because they are scared of him

i feel like he has a tattoo for you, whether that's your name or your favorite flower idk but he gets one for you

“um wow okay we’re doing that now” “do you like it or not?” “yeah but i wasn’t expecting it”

sometimes he’ll let you pick his hair color “how about purple” “maybe” 😉

he definitely flirts with your friends “hello ladies!” “hi hawk!” “get out!”

you’re the only one that is allowed to call him eli

“eli i need ten dollars?” “for what?” “a snack” *hands over the money*

“eli can i have your sweatshirt? i’m cold” “yeah take it”

“i can’t, me and eli are going to the movies today”

one day you’re sitting with him and his minions (you refuse to call them friends) at lunch

“so eli” -one of the cobra kais “shut the fuck up! you can’t call him that!” -you

hawk has a proud brother moment

anything that you do hawk is like “fuck yeah that’s my sibling!”

his friends are not allowed to look at you, talk to you, have a crush on you, or even think about you

“woah dude she’s hot” “that’s my fucking sister! stay away from her!”

“eli who’s your friend-” “NO!” 

as eli he will buy you period products but is very shy about it

as hawk he will not be caught dead in that isle of cvs

“eli i need them!” “i don’t care! i’ll drive you there and you can run in and get them”

when hawk breaks demetri’s arm you don't speak to him for weeks

you confront him about his new behavior

“this is who i am!” “no it’s not! you’re not my brother!” 

you’re crying and then storm off to your room

that breaks him

is highkey the start of his redemption

when he’s at the fight at the larusso house, and he sees demetri about to get his arm broken, he thinks of your words: “you're not my brother!”

literally motivates him to fix things

you see hawk and demitri and just know that your brother is back

you hug him so tight

“you were right y/n. i’m sorry” “of course i was. i’m always right” “gee thanks” “love you”  

bonus demetri:

he is a nerd, you are a nerd

the two of you watch star wars, marvel, harry potter, etc. together 

“daddy anakin” “please shut the fuck up”

you want to punch him in the face because he is so sarcastic 

it gets on your nerves 

bust out laughing when johnny makes fun of his pi shirt 

“stop laughing” “if it’s funny i'm gonna laugh”

even though you’re a nerd you’re cool 

like you have a lot of friends in your grade 

“demetri if i don’t talk to you at the halloween party that’s why” gestures to his costume 

listen to his rants about how eli’s changed 

you try to give him advice, but it doesn’t work out

so proud of him when he joins miyagi-do

“i'm glad you’re stepping out of your comfort zone” 

demetri tries to get you to join miyagi-do

if you do join great more sibling bonding

if you don’t join no biggie y’all are still besties

y’all go to the comic book store together

its sibling bonding time

you threaten to fight hawk after the laser tag thing 

“hey asshole you leave my brother alone!” 

you sign his cast first

you definitely write some inside joke that only the two of you understand

you see him kissing yas and do a whole 🤮

“so you dating yas?” “idk why” “just checking”

very obvious about your distaste for her

when him and hawk become friends again you’re very wary

“he broke your arm” “he apologized” “he broke your arm!!!”

eventually you and hawk are on semi decent terms

“demetri forgave you and that’s fine but i’m still not over it”

your relationship = the perfect mix of love and teasing  

bonus bonus king bert 🙌🏻:

you are older than him by like a year

but you’re still besties for life 

you’re very proud of him when he joins cobra kai

“im joining a karate dojo” “period pop off”

you always ruffle his hair 

cheer for him at the all valley

“yeah bert!”

but also like you can’t watch 

when he gets eliminated you cringe 

he’s sad about it 

“i just wanted to impress you” “im very impressed bert, you did great” 

your opinion matters so much to him

he’s such a small cinnamon roll 🥺🥺

seeing him with the older cobra kai boys makes you soft

“y/n i’m going out with hawk and miguel can you drive me?” 

bert admires you a lot, like you are his hero

y’all are the best sibling duo and that’s on period

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#238

This is a direct follow up to Story #205

“Kid, this is it. This place is the end of the road for you with me. I have your replacement meeting me here later tonight….

“You’ll easily have some new driver to take ownership of you by the morning. Don’t look at me that way. I told you that I would dump you when I started having feelings for you. Well I noticed it the other night when I hesitated about planting my dirty ass on your face. I hesitated. That’s not me. You know I use your tongue to clean me up. And then when we watched that movie and were spooning I was enjoying having you with me more than enjoying the feeling of my cock in your cunt as we were watching the movie. Even now I’m a little choked up, and I can’t have that. So we are here.

“It may look dead now, but this place is going to get crazy once the sun sets in a few hours. The actual truck stop is behind you, but the perverted drivers will be here at the Royal Motel. It looks like a dive, and it is. This is the bunkhouse part. It’s been here since the 50′s, and it hasn’t changed one bit. The private rooms are in that other building closer to the truck stop. Once it opens in a few moments, you’ll go over there and get assigned to a cot.

“And the first thing that will happen is that you will get fucked by the owner Doug. Years ago, you would have been chained to your cot, but now you’ll have one of those electric dog collars installed on you so that you can’t leave until Doug releases you. That’ll either be to another driver who’s claiming you, or if you pay to be released. Remember the two hundred dollars I had you bring with you when I took you on? I told you when I leave you, you’ll have it? I put a hundred under each of your shoe’s insoles. Nobody is going to look for it there. Doug charges a hundred to get the collar removed. He doesn’t care if it comes from you or another driver. You’ll be naked otherwise, but keep your shoes on at all times—not only for the money, but those floors are nasty. And you well know, I am a sick fucker, so for me to say something’s nasty…

“I don’t know if you paid any attention, I stopped giving you the pill that took your libido away a few days ago. It takes about a full week for it to be out of your system, but after two days, most of it has gone. So you should start having sexual urges. Boy, I just have to say that you lasted a lot longer than other cunts. I loved seeing the reluctance turn into submission in your eyes. It was great when you just laid there; I could tell that you were not interested in being cunted, but you did your duty. You knew your place with me better than any faggot I have had in the last few years. You actually became two holes to use, nothing more. That always got me horned up more.

“Fuck, my pecker is starting to get going here. Doug and I were going to spit roast you in a moment, but I can’t wait. Lean over the fuel tank and spread those faggot legs. Show me that cunt. In the sunlight it looks like a giant gape. You are so stretched out, that I barely need any spit. My beer can dick fits so nicely in there like it was made for it. Fuck yeah.

“Has getting a hard-on returned? Let me feel. It has. Go ahead and jack off. You haven’t been able to since I took you on board three months ago. Go to town on it. Your balls must be ready to burst. I’m going to be back here enjoying your cunt. I’m gonna miss it.

“Damn, you really are going to town on your cock. When you nut do it in your hand. Don’t ask for permission, just do it. Now boy! Bust that fucking nut. The tightness of your cunt muscles is telling me you are about to… Oh yeah boy! Fuck yeah. Now spin around and clean me off while you slather that jiz on your cunt.

“That was intense wasn’t it. No, I didn’t cum. I will when Doug and I spit roast you in a few minutes. He’s about ready to open up, so this will be the last time we will be together. Once you are collared, it’s going to be a series of drivers that will be in and out. They pay to come in, they use the facilities—which includes all the collared faggots. I’ve seen it with twenty drivers and six or seven faggots. Wild.

“The faggot that’s replacing you is surrendering himself to Doug a little later. That’s what you are going to do right now. You are going to walk over there buck naked, walk into the side entrance and tell Doug… Here I have this written out for you on this paper…. ‘I come of my own free will for you to use me and abuse me as you wish. I give you full permission to ignore any pleas to stop or to show mercy. I need for you to ignore them. I am yours.’ …He has to do that to protect himself. I’m going to bring over your stuff I had under lock and key in a bit. Now go. Good luck. And don’t fucking look back.”

[astoryinred]

"Trese" and the truth in the fiction

In short: why the actual monsters in Trese don't have horns, wings, or summoning rituals

Finally the Netflix anime adaptation of the Filipino graphic novel/comics series "Trese" has dropped. It is available in several languages such as English, Filipino, Japanese, Spanish...just to name a few. It is not a perfect work, both in technical terms as well as an adaptation of the source material, but it is worth a watch. Go watch it. Please.

That being said, there is so much to unpack about the series, and I do not mean in terms of the voice-acting and the ethnicities of the persons involved, or just how crunched together the writing is. I will leave that to the critics. What I am writing here is a view as to the real life truths woven into the horror/supernatural threads of the "Trese" episodes, and why these are important. It's because for a lot of people encountering "Trese" at this point, the actual every day monsters of the tale (or at least of the first 4 episodes) are even more distant than the aswangs, tikbalangs, nunos and other supernatural beings that populate the anime.

This will go into spoilers below the cut

Episode 1: The series opens with a train stopping right near the "Guadalupe Station", and some of its passengers being attacked by aswang as they walk along the railroad tracks. During the course of investigating this and another case (that of a ghost murdered on Balete Drive), Alexandra Trese learns that other spirits using this train line have recently perished in a fire or have also been murdered by aswang in league with a politician.

The squatter/informal settler community mentioned in this episode is based on a real one. That area has gone up in flames from accidental and not so accidental fires over the past few decades. Some of the settlers have moved on, but a good many have stubbornly stuck around despite the land being eyed by a large property developer. That area is a symptom of the inequality that plagues that particular part of the metropolis, since it is only less than a mile away from some of the country's swankiest gated subdivisions. While the powers that be are (probably) not involved in selling anyone for meat, they still have a long way to go to address the woes of that community when it is not election season.

As for the other murder in the episode? There have been several cases of women associated with or married to prominent politicians who have died in mysterious circumstances, with some of these deaths ruled as suicide. In many cases, the truth has been hushed up, or simply swept under the rug.

Episode 2: While Alexandra is pursuing the trail of a tikbalang running wild in the city, she also is called to investigate a mysterious series of electrocutions in a gated village. Along the way she discovers that this is a form of human sacrifice to the bagyons manning the electricity providers of the city.

As reprehensible as the bagyons are, what is truly sickening is the seeming indifference of the people in Livewell Village. It's mentioned more in the comics (but also given a line or two of exposition here by the Nuno) that the people regularly offer an outsider, usually a skilled worker in charge of maintenance, to ensure that the bagyon will bless them. In real life there is the callousness that some people exhibit towards essential workers such as yes, repairmen and electricians who have to endure heights and storms just to ensure the "comfort" of consumers. Although the Philippines isn't a country crawling with litiginous folk and "Karens", there are enough of this sort to make essential workers' lives miserable on a daily basis.

Episode 3: This is a difficult one, both in the comics and the anime. One of Trese's cases leads her to cross paths with an actress named Nova, who is later revealed to have had her child left to die (hence making her a target for a specific type of monster). Nova's story is admittedly not easy to deal with and may be considered incredulous, but there are two important contexts to remember when watching it.

The first is that abortion is still illegal throughout the Philippines. It cannot be legally offered by any clinic or medical practitioner. There are clandestine alternatives available, but at a steep price.

That being said, most Filipinos regardless of where they stand on the abortion issue will still consider the abandonment or murder of an infant to be beyond the pale. Yet this does happen. Every month one can expect to read a story or two of babies being tossed in the trash or left in bathrooms---and those are just the stories that make it to the press. There have been exposes about mothers who have sold off their infants to "adopters" willing to pay thousands of pesos or dollars for an under the table transfer of custody. These happen because of desperation, poverty, and lack of resources to support mothers. Maternity leave is only up to 120 days here in most cases, and there are few resources to support mothers with PPD, mothers abandoned by their partners, or those with just too many mouths to feed. Questions of "bodily autonomy" are not first and foremost in the mind of many women who do the worst to their newborns; the question is food on the table for the next day or the day after. Survival is key. Not independence or empowerment.

With these in mind, it is not surprising that Nova is considered one of the most disturbing and reprehensible characters in this episode. From what we see, her choice of abandoning her child stems from vanity and pursuit of a glamorous career. We can see that this is not because she would be out on the streets if she had a child to care for, or because she was escaping something. It's just portrayed as pure selfishness.

It is interesting that Nova is introduced here almost as a juxtaposition to another mother, Ramona. Ramona, the mother of Crispin and Basilio, is an armed insurgent who engages in a ritual to avenge herself on the military men who forced her to murder her own comrades. It is also implied earlier in the season that it was not just murder involved, but that Ramona had also been a "prize" given to the soldiers who captured her. And yes in this context, it can also mean rape. The Armed Forces of the Philippines does not have a shining record when it comes to its treatment of women dissidents and prisoners. This backstory does not justify what Ramona does for the remainder of her screentime, but it does show why she has absolutely no sympathy or mercy to give to anyone outside of her two children. She is part of a cycle of killing that makes any peaceful resolution of the insurgency in the Philippines so difficult to achieve. Both sides behave abominably, and civillians do get caught in the crossfire (or explosions).

Episode 4: Much of this episode revolves around the events in and surrounding a certain police station located near a large public cemetery. We see that the police chief Captain Guerrero has his hands full with cases and keeping his subordinates in line. The cops in the precinct range from the innocent apparent newcomer Tapia to the more stereotypical "asshole" cops Reyes and company. Later it is discovered that the bodies apparently "stolen" from the graves are resurrected zombies who are being directed to attack the station for a specific reason...and it has to do with how the police run their often bloody operations.

The real life neighborhoods surrounding the cemetery have seen their share of violence and "extra judicial killings". In some houses there are still candles and placards calling for justice for family members killed in raids or accused of having been drug suspects (almost a death sentence in the Philippines 2016 onwards). Eyewitnesses and CCTV footage show members of the police force taking part in these raids and clandestine operations. The worst part? The neighborhoods surrounding that particular cemetery haven't even seen the worst of it. Other disadvantaged communities in the north of the metropolis have seen even more deaths of this sort...with some of the deaths being those of children. Google the name of Kian delos Santos as a test case. Kian's case was one of the few to have extended media coverage, and even then the resolution has been rather wanting.

It is tempting to go into the "all cops are bastards" line of thought with this episode, but I do like how Captain Guerrero is forced to interact with someone who he is trying to save in the station, since as it turns out this person has recently lost a family member to this form of senseless murder. Captain Guerrero and the audience are led to remember that these victims have names. They had families. They had lives. They are more than body counts and statistics. That scene is one of the most humanizing of the series, and shows that while not all cops are bastards, there is enough rot in the institution to make it a problem.

Episodes 5-6: I would go more into Episodes 5 and 6, but those deserve a whole new treatment into the nature of truth, compromise, and even gaslighting (even I am not sure how much of a certain character's narrative is true, and how much is just meant to confuse Alexandra with regard to what she knows of her father). The context she does face before those harrowing revelations is a very real one though: things going wrong in a penitentiary.

The penal system of the Philippines is alarmingly punitive and full of inequities. Privileged inmates like politicians do receive special treatment (including media coverage and becoming leaders of factions) while less privileged inmates languish and must struggle to survive the brutal social hiearchy in some institutions. And yes it has happened that inmates have been sent out to do "jobs" of murder and arson in the outside world, often being snuck in and out. A movie that tackles this aspect better is "OTJ (On the Job)" directed by Erik Matti. That one will keep you up at night.

The ending of Episode 6 is rather ambiguous, and it remains to be seen what Alexandra really experienced during her trials prior to becoming a detective, and what her father really did to her and her sibling. We'll have to wait for another season to get to the bottom of that. But if the anime will continue to draw from the comics themselves for stories/case files, we can count on seeing more societal demons and baddies alongside the supernatural ones. And those are the villains that Alexandra Trese cannot just readily beat; it will take a heck lot more than a babaylan na mandirigma to handle those!

[catxsnow]

UNDER THE MASK B.W.

Summary: You and Bruce were best friends your whole life until you grew apart. Seven years later, things changed when Batman shows up. Pre-Robin Batman

Warning: blood, angst, some fluff, mentions of smut at the end but it doesn’t go into detail at all. Swearing. 

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for like three months whoops

Word count: 4.3k

You had known Bruce your whole life - literally.

With your parents being best friends, the two of you had been inseparable since you were in diapers. Growing up, he was the one person that you could always rely on and the only person that was able to make you smile when you were sad. Bruce knew more about you than you ever knew about yourself.

When his parents died, your whole family grieved alongside him. For a while, it had brought you even closer. You found yourself staying over at the Manor to watch over Bruce alongside Alfred. Nights that you would hear him crying, you would sneak in and sleep next to him. Even during school when kids would tease him you would stand up for him.

When high school rolled around, you found yourself closer than you ever had been with Bruce. One drunken mistake between the two of you and the next day it was all across the school that you were dating. For the first time in a long time, you saw him genuinely happy.

You weren't going to leave his side for anything, at least that was what you had thought.

As Bruce grew older, he also grew farther apart from you. Less evenings were spent together and soon your weekends went away too. He took over his family's company and disappeared off your radar at the same time. You were heartbroken by his absence. For years you had watched over him, now he had left you.

You had seen him all over the news. Paper headlines about what WE was planning for the future or some fancy gala that he attended with girls hanging off his arms. You couldn't help but think of the pang of hurt that ran through your chest every time you saw him with someone new. He was gone from you life and by the looks of it, he wasn't coming back.

There were the rare times that you would run into Alfred. He had raised you nearly as much as he had raised Bruce by the amount of time that you spent together. You always asked how Bruce was and it seemed to be the same answer every time: he's good, working hard at WE, keeps to himself half the time.

You had lost hope that you would ever get to be close to him again. Maybe you had lost hope when he had broken up with you after high school. Maybe, you out grew him and his life. The reality of it all, was that you had just given up.

If Bruce wanted to be a part of your life, he would have made the effort in the past seven years. Instead, he sat at the top of his Wayne Tower without a single thought of you. Why bother missing someone when they never missed you?

Just like any other night in Gotham, it was cold. You sat in your apartment with your blanket wrapped around you and a hot mug in your hand. Some movie played but it was more background noise than anything. Over the years, you had gained the bad habit of zoning out when you were alone. This happened to be one of those times.

Memories of you and Bruce as kids running around the Wayne Manor. The two of you getting in trouble with his parents and eventually Alfred. Apart, you were both well-behaved children, together, you were hooligans. No matter how many times you had gotten lectures, you would never stop your games.

You missed those times. Free of responsibilities, free of pain, free to do anything you wanted. Those days were long gone, and no amount of wishing would get them back.

A loud thud had brought you out of your daze. You nearly screamed at the sight of your window and if you weren't there to see it yourself, you wouldn't have believed it to be true. A dark figure hovered on your fire escape right outside your window. This was Gotham, you were terrified at first.

It wasn't until the figure turned his head that you realized it was Batman himself. You had heard the rumors of him in the city and what he did at night. You wouldn't have believed them either if you didn't have a run in with him.

It was several months back. You had worked late that night and the walk to your car had apparently been too late to go by yourself. It wasn't even half way there when some creep tried to grab hold of you and do god knows what. If it wasn't for Batman popping in and beating the ever living hell out of him, you weren't sure what was going to happen.

As far as you were aware, his intentions were good, but his methods terrified you. He showed no mercy against that man and you had been unnerved by him ever since. You were thankful for him that night, but you hoped to never run into him again.

Now, he was standing at your window looking like he was about to pass out and smearing blood all over the glass. You didn't know why he was there, or if it was just coincidence that it happened to be yours. It couldn't be, you were five stories up and if he was desperate enough, he wouldn't have gone to yours.

So, here you were debating whether or not to let him in to your home to see what the hell was wrong with him and what he wanted. For some damned reason, you had gone against your gut and unlocked your window for him to crawl in. Batman nearly collapsed against the ground, his hand against his side.

"(Y/N)..." he mumbled out. You didn't know how he knew your name, but that wasn't your worry at the moment. A gash as long as your forearm tore through his skin. He should have been at a hospital, but you suppose that wasn't really an option for him.

"Holy fuck," you breathed out. His eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness until finally resting. If it wasn't for the faint rise and fall of his chest, you were sure that he would have been dead. You scrambled to your pathetic excuse of a first aid kit and went to work on his wound.

With the blood wiped away, you could see that the gash wasn't particularly deep. He had lost enough blood to concern you though and if he lost any more you were sure you were going to have to call an ambulance.

You drenched the wound with alcohol but you couldn't bandage it unless his suit came off. Instead, you settled on cutting away the weakened material and placing long bandage on as best as you could. It wasn't near perfect, but at least he wasn't going to die in your living room anymore.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, you realized just what kind of mess you were in. The great Batman was passed out on your floor by god knows who and you had no idea why. You paced around your living room, blood staining your hands and your heart racing a mile a minute. This was by far insane.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered to yourself. What was going to happen when he woke up? If he woke up? What if he died and you had to explain to the cops why Batman was dead in your home? That wasn't something that you could handle. However, you knew that if he had risked his well-being to show up at some random person's apartment instead of the cops, then you knew you couldn't call 911.

The curiosity of who was behind the mask was eating you alive. You couldn't fathom who was idiotic enough to try and fight crime in Gotham in a suit based on an animal. He was out cold, there was no way that he would know if you took one little peak under to see who it was.

With a sigh, you went against your desires. Instead, you grabbed one of the pillows on your couch and tucked it under his head. The nervous twitch in your limbs wouldn't go away and you were sure that it would never go away while he was here. With high hopes, you drew your blanket around yourself and took your place on the couch once more.

Not once did you eyes live the unconscious body on your floor. Blood was no longer dripping from his wound but it was still smeared across your floor. This was the last thing that you expected to happen that night.

It was hours that you were staring at the same place. Hours of wondering if he was going to be okay and who he really was. Batman's mask was the last thing that you saw before sleep had consumed you.

><

You woke up the next morning with a start. Sprawled out on the couch with your blanket half on you. Memories of what happened the night before hit you like a freight train. Batman.

The man that had shown up last night was no longer on your floor. The pillow that he had was returned onto your couch and the remnants of his blood was the only proof that it wasn't some fucked up dream. You scrambled off your couch and ran around your apartment to see if he was still within it.

Thankfully, he wasn't. Instead a note was on your kitchen counter that hadn't been there the night before.

'Thank you. I owe you. -B'

Short and brief, it was still more than you were ever expecting from him. However, it wasn't the note that had gotten you shocked, it was the writing. You knew that handwriting from anywhere, you had grown up with it.

From learning how to spell and write, to passing notes in class, and for a brief moment in your life - love notes. This writing was something that you would recognize from anywhere at any time. It was Bruce's.

There was no way, Bruce couldn't be Batman. He was the owner of a multi-billion dollar company he didn't have time to dress up in a costume. Bruce was just some rich kid who slept with any woman he wanted to. Right?

There was only one way to find out - and you were going to make sure of it. You knew your way to the Manor like the back of your hand. Your parents had driven you there hundreds of times and Alfred even more. You knew the ins and outs of that place more than anyone. It had been your home for a long time too.

However, driving up to the gates filled your heart with terror. It had been seven long years since you had been here and you didn't know if you were ever welcomed back. Not to mention that if your theory was wrong, you would look like nothing but a deranged fool trying to get back into Bruce's life.

It was worth the risk, it had to be. When you were kids, you always made fun of how Bruce would write his ‘B’. It drove him crazy but he refused to ever change it - it was exactly like how his father wrote it. Elegant and flawless. 

The gates opened wide before you could even put your car in park to get access. The closer your drove up, the more you got nervous. Seven years without seeing Bruce, far too long for someone you thought was going to be in your life forever. You didn't even know what you wanted to say to him or where to even start.

The door to his home was surprisingly unlocked. You were sure that this must have been Alfred's doing, as well as being the one to let you in. He didn't appear at the front door like he used to upon your arrival. Then again, maybe he just didn't want to get between you and Bruce.

The Manor hadn't changed much since you had been there last. In fact, it didn't look like it changed at all. The study still looked the same. Shelves of books lining the wall and a sturdy wooden desk in the middle. That was always one of your favourite places to be.

You continued your journey, each room bringing back memories that you had completely forgotten about. Times that you and Bruce ran around, nearly destroying everything in your path. Others where the two of you would try and sneak up on Alfred. You felt a sense of longing the farther you went through his home.

It wasn't until you reached Bruce's room did you finally stop. His door was closed and you weren't sure what was going to be waiting for you on the other side of it. You did know, that if you stayed out there for any longer you would have turned right back around and pretended as if this never happened.

So, without even knocking, you had flung his door open. Bruce was buttoning up his shirt of the day. He looked surprised to see you there. Not that you could blame him, it had been close to a decade since you last spoke.

"(Y/N)," Bruce's face lit up. He finished tucking in his shirt as he stalked across the room towards you. "What are you doing here?" Bruce lifted his arms up as if he was going to hug you but you had stepped back. Confusion filled his eyes and he lowered himself back down.

"You have a lot of fucking explaining to do, Bruce Wayne," you snapped. A fire filled your eyes but Bruce had acted as if he was confused. "Showing up to my apartment last night half fucking dead in a bat suit? Are you fucking insane?"

"What are you talking about?" Bruce asked. "I was here last night, ask Alfred." You rolled your eyes at his life and fished the note out of your pocket.

"I know your hand writing, Bruce." You shoved the paper in his face until he grabbed it from your hold. "It might have been a long time since I've seen you last but you still haven't learned how to lie to me."

"(Y/N)," Bruce kept calm. "This is ridiculous, do you honestly think that -" You had cut him off with an attempt to jab at where the wound have been from the night before. Just as your fingers grazed the material of his shirt, he had caught your wrist. Darkness filled his eyes like you had never seen before.

"Take off your shirt."

"I didn't realize that we were going to get so close so quickly again," Bruce tried to joke, but you could hear the strain in his voice. You had too much frustration in you to try and listen to him change your mind.

"Now, Bruce!" You raised your voice. Bruce dropped your wrist and hung his head low. He should have never gone to your apartment last night. However, he was on the street below fighting a gang of men that had him far too out numbered. He knew exactly where your home was, it was the closest place for him to go.

Reluctantly, Bruce did as he was told. It was agonizingly slow as he undid the buttons of his shirt and pull of the material. Just as you expected, a long bandage covered his torso, right where you had patched Batman up the night before. It was changed, this time done much neater than yours.

You jaw was tight as you looked at his scarred skin. With a huff of air, you had stormed out of his room and towards the front door. This had been exactly what you were expecting and yet the truth seemed to sting a wound that you hadn't felt in a long time. Betrayal.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Bruce called out for you. He latched onto your wrist once more and stopped your movements.

"Seven years Bruce! You dropped out of my life seven years ago and never tried to see me again! Do you know how much that fucking hurt me? We had been best friends my entire life and you just fucked off without so much as a reason why! I was so lost without you, I was alone!" You felt tears well up in your eyes.

"You don't get to come to my apartment needing my help and then pretend like it wasn't you under that mask!" You ripped your hand out of his hold. "Fuck you Bruce. Fuck you for leaving me. Fuck you for making me wonder what went wrong for so many years. Fuck you for breaking my heart!"

Your voice finally cracked and the tears spilled down your face. Bruce could feel the grief rolling off you. He knew what it was like to be consumed by the pains of your past and he never realized how badly he had hurt you. Leaving you was the only way to keep you safe while he was on this journey to become someone else.

Bruce pulled you into his chest. Sobs racked through your entire body as he held you close, just like when you were younger. One of his hands rested on the back of your head, keeping you as close to his heart as he could.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered to you. You would understand why he did what he did one day. Once this pain was gone from you, you would be able to see that he did it to keep you safe. He never wanted to hurt you, of course he didn't. Bruce loved you his whole life, that was never going to change.

Heart-wrenching sobs echoed through the manor. It broke Bruce to see you like this, to know that he was the one to cause you this pain. He was different now, but his place for you in his heart was just the same as it always was. No matter how cold he got, you were always able to bring the brightness out within him.

"I didn't want you to see me change into the person I am now," Bruce tried to explain to you. Your cries had quieted but the tears continued to flow. "I'm not the same person that I once was. I just... I couldn't drag you through that. I didn't want to. You were the only good thing out of my life and I couldn't bare the thought of tainting you with this... darkness in me."

You pulled away from him and wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Just because you dress up as a Bat at night didn’t mean I didn't want you in my life," you shook your head at his ridiculous train of thought. There was still anger in your voice. "I've known you forever. Don't you think I didn't know that you changed the second your parents died? You've been wearing a mask for a long time before you decided to change it to this one."

"I'm sorry," Bruce averted his gaze. Guilt that he hadn't felt in years consumed him. He always told himself that keeping you away was for the best. It was the only way to protect you and keep you safe against the crime he went against.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Bruce," your hands drew into fists. "How the hell did you think I wasn't going to want to be part of this? You never even asked me! You needed me then more than ever! Now more than ever! And you choose to be a selfish asshole instead. You never thought about anyone but yourself."

"I did this to protect you," Bruce tried to argue. He should have known that you wouldn't understand why he did what he did. After all these years, you were right - sorry wasn't going to cut it. He felt terrible for just leaving you, it was the biggest mistake that he had ever made.

"Protect me?" You raised your voice even more. "Nothing could ever hurt me as much as you leaving my life. If you wanted to protect me, you wouldn't have left. It's been seven years since I've seen you, seven years of trying to forget about you.

"I loved you, Bruce, more than anyone. You ruined that the second that you walked out my door for the last time," You scoffed, turning away from him. Your throat felt constricted and tears burned your eyes. Bruce leaving you was the biggest heartbreak you had to endure. No man ever proved to be better than him, you couldn't move on.

"(Y/N)," Bruce's voice went soft. He reached out to grab your shaking hand. To both of your surprises, you let him. His hands were calloused after the years of hard work he had gone through. You felt small in his grip, just like the child that you were when you were his best friend.

"I should have never assumed that you wouldn't want to be part of this life," Bruce went on. You finally turned back to face him again. "I wanted to keep you safe and that was the only way that I knew how at the time. You're one of the only people left that I truly care about and I couldn't bare the thought of losing you."

"I've been with you since birth, Bruce. Don't you think I want to be with you until death as well?" You held hope in your eyes that he would take you back. After all this time, all the anger and frustration that you had at him, it seemed to wash away the second that you looked into his beautiful blues.

Bruce Wayne was a stubborn, arrogant, asshole. He had been for a long time, but you knew that he was still one of the most caring people in the world, even if he didn't show it. Deep down, as much as you didn't want to believe him, you knew that what he did was to keep you safe.

He was a genius man, both in business and in life. He knew how the world worked and fought against it to make it right again. You respected him, even when you were mad at him. Bruce had a way of getting the world to love him, even if it was never the real him that he showed. You were the only person that knew the real him - besides Alfred.

"(Y/N)," Bruce dragged his hands up your arms until resting them at the base of your neck. Though he looked older, more muscular since the last time that you had seen him - he was still the same man you loved. Without another word, Bruce tilted down to meet you lips. It had been years since you had kissed him, yet it only felt like yesterday.

Without breaking your kiss, he led you back into his bed room, slamming the door on the way. You didn't have intentions of this happening - none at all. You came here to get mad at Bruce, finally have so long awaited answered, and leave with a weight off your chest that you had been carrying around for years.

Sleeping with him was not on your agenda.

Bruce was a player, he knew how to get his way. It didn't take him long to master the art of distracting women and avoiding an unwanted conversation. He had managed to do it to you lots when you were dating in high school and by the looks of it, he still had a hold over you. Bruce knew how to get to your heart, and your pants.

Moans of pleasure cascaded through his room. The years apart had left you more experienced and god did it show. Bruce had gave you more pleasure than any other man in your life ever could. He still knew you better than anyone - in nearly every way possible.

"Fuck," you breathed out. A layer of sweat covered your bodies as you laid against his sheets. Heavy breathing filled the room and you were still soaking up the orgasm that he had given you. "That shouldn't have happened. I'm still furious at you."

"I know," Bruce kept his voice tight. The wound that he had gotten the prior night was flaring up with pain but it had been worth it to be with you again. "I know that nothing I do will change the past... but I'm giving you the choice now. All I want is for you to be back in my life, but once you're in, there's no going back.

"This new life I have is dangerous, you need to know that. But if you're willing, I'd love to have you be a part of it," Bruce asked. He wanted you back, he always wanted to crawl back to you and beg for forgiveness. The better part of him always stopped himself.

"Why did you come to my apartment last night?" You changed the subject. "Why not back here? Or a hospital, or anywhere else?"

"Because I knew I could trust you no to reveal who I really was."

"Then why leave the note?" You barged on. There were so many questions that you had for him, but these two were the ones that were bothering you the most. He was smart enough to have known that you could have figured it out. Batman was far too cautious to be so stupid to leave a note for a stranger.

"Because I was hoping you would figure out that it was me all on your own," Bruce confessed. He had one arm rested under his head and the other resting on his chest. He didn't look at you, too afraid to see what your reaction was going to be with his words. "And you did."

"I'll join you, Bruce. You can't shut me out again, I can't handle another heartbreak like that," You decided. Being back with Bruce, even for this short time had filled the emptiness in your chest that had been void for years. He was the missing piece in your life, and as much as you knew it, you tried to fill it with anything else.

"I promise."

[ahsxual]

Unbreakable Connection

Pairing: L!Joker x reader

Summary: You and J met each other coincidently and now, after a few months, you somehow managed to become really close friends.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1,8k

A/N: Soo this is a request from lovely @heavymetalnarwhal where J and the reader have a platonic relationship. They've become close friends after they accidentally met. J has grown and now he trusts her, her home eventually becoming his haven and in return, the reader can finally have someone trustful to talk to, and someone who can understand her and be there when she needs him most. So darling, I hope you enjoy this! <3

(I don't own this gif!)

On a specific day, you were in the mood for a night walk: after all, you weren't having a good day, so you thought that this was the best thing to do to get away from your haunting thoughts;

Your usual way of relaxing is staying at home while watching some movie, reading some book, listening to music... but that particular day you just wanted to do something different, what lead you to something you would never expect to happen...

While you were walking into some empty and narrow street near a port, you heard some uncommon noises... more specifically from people talking and moving heavy objects hurriedly, you supposed;

You were about to return to your home when you heard them, but since you weren't in a hurry, you let your curiosity take the best of you;

Oh, how simple choices like this could origin such a drastical change in your life...

You hide yourself behind a corner, where you could see what seemed like ten people moving huge boxes with a "caution" warning on it into a truck, all of them covered in familiar masks;

When you were about to remember where those masks were from, you suddenly saw the one and only prince of crime of Gotham city: the Joker, jumping outside of the high truck into the ground effortlessly;

You covered your mouth after releasing a loud gasp unintentionally, earning suspicious glances from some masked men... or should you say women?

The Joker has women working for him too?? you thought, surprised by that fact.

After that, you started to run as fast as you could to your house, concluding that you had seen enough;

Little did you know that the psychotic clown saw you from afar, following you discretely after, while his goons continued to work;

When you got home, you went to bed and tried to sleep, thinking on how bad and strange that day was;

Since then, everyday you had the feeling that someone was following you, which obviously made you terrified. You thought about calling the police, but what if all of this was just your mind tricking you? What if you made yourself sound like a fool in front of the authority, wasting your time only to get to see them laughing at you afterwards? Yup, that's how Gotham police worked... and it was completely not worth it;

When you got home and finally managed to calm yourself down, you opened the door and instinctively screamed once you saw the most wanted psychopath in the city, chilling out on your sofa like he was in his own house;

"W-what are you d-doing here??" you asked, trembling, shaking from the inside out of your vulnerable body towards his presence;

"Oh, you arrived! I ah... just couldn't wait to finally meet the ah... little kitten who was picking at what she... shouldn't. But curiosity sometimes it's stronger than our own safety, isn't that right, huh?" he calmly, yet dangerously said, getting up from the couch to approach you slowly. You had nowhere to escape: you knew if you tried, he would kill you right then and there, and you wanted to do whatever was needed to stay alive just for a few more seconds;

"P-please, don't k-kill me...!" those words were the only ones that could came out of your quivering mouth by your frightened mind.

He looked at you disappointed, however he wanted to ask you something that he didn't understand just yet. "How... all of you are so... predictable. <Please, don't kill me!!>... Really? That's all ya have to say in your defense doll, huh?" he tried to imitate a little girl begging for mercy, which would make you laugh if you weren't on the that exact position.

"I-I guess if you were me, you would s-say the same thing. I... I don't k-know what else to say to you..." really? Were you really justifying yourself and trying to have a decent conversation with Joker?? He then stared at you intensely for a few moments, like he was analyzing you.

"Well, I guess I have to ah.. agree with ya on that one." he said. "But I didn't come here to ah... have a chat while drinking hot tea with ya. I actually wanted to ah... ask ya something."

"W-what is it?" even if you tried, you couldn't stop yourself from stuttering every time you spoke.

"Why didn't ya tell anything to the men that eat donuts 24/7 with a pistol in their ass pockets, the so called heroes of this city about ah... what you saw the other night, huh? If ya had reported me, I would probably be in jail right now instead of having this little... shitty chat with ya." even you didn't know the real reason, if you were honest. Maybe you thought this city was already fucked up, so what's the point in trying to arrest him when there’re many killers, thieves, and who knows what out there? You're just trying to live a quiet life... and if you did denounce him, you probably would be his next brutal victim once he lays his eyes on you again;

"I-I don't know... I just... want to live a quiet life. Let's be realistic: you probably would get out of the prison soon, so... it wouldn't make any difference, I guess..." this time you managed to speak without stuttering so much, which impressed you. He seemed thoughtful about your answer: he was good at reading people, and you didn't seem the kind of person that just wants to live their life in the best way possible, only caring about money and fame, not giving a shit about others. You have your own world, your own perspective of life, your own space without bothering anyone, and he admires that;

He could tell you're a shy and introverted person, not having anyone truthful enough to really talk about what happened... and Joker liked that fact.

From that, he already could tell that maybe you were someone to trust... and that's what he was about to find out;

After that, he nodded, telling you there was a chance of him coming back, since he got interested in your way of being. He decided to spare your life since you didn't report him, making you feel utterly relieved for not telling anything to the police or anyone;

Days passed and he wouldn’t show up like he said, and if you were honest, you actually missed him: you didn't have any romantic intentions with him, no no no, yet you thought maybe he could understand you... and accept you, finally valuing your worth and see you for who you are, without judging or offering rude side glances like most people do.That's when once again, he managed to impress you.

"Ta-daa!" he loudly exclaimed, making you jump from your secretary.

"What the hell?!" you exclaimed back, angry ‘cause he scared you by coming out of nowhere... again. "What are you doing here Joker??" calling for his name sounded strange... yet familiar, like you already knew him for a long time;

"Ah... from what I remember, I said I would come back. Soo here I am!" he then laid down caressly on your fresh-made bed. "Ohh this one's good! How much ah... did it cost, huh?" he said happily, finally having a comfortable bed to lay on instead of the rigid ground where he uses to sleep... when he can sleep.

You were speechless, him being completely at ease, but you decided to respond him. "Uh... it cost around 600 dollars. I saved a lot of money to buy it, so please be careful." suddenly, he started to laugh at you, like you said the funniest joke he ever heard.

"600 dollars?? Are ya kidding? Ya could just have stole it! And there would be so much fun and adrenaline on it as an extra!" he admitted excitedly, sounding like a kid who had the greatest idea about something random.

"Well, I'm not an expert thief like you. And I prefer to be humble and pay for it, thanks but no thanks." you answered, returning to do whatever you were doing previously before he unexpectedly entered your room.

"Oh... humility. Where does that lead us to, huh? To people getting whatever they want from us? Playing us like their little toys? Thanks, but no thanks." he imitated you casually with his arms resting under his fade green painted hair, which made you laugh this time since, somehow, you didn't feel scared of him anymore.

From that day on, he would visit you almost every day: firstly you felt like he was using you just to get a place to sleep and to properly eat: he has people working and doing anything for him, so why would he need you? Some common girl who's life isn't that interesting? You sadly thought. But with time, you could see he actually enjoys your company;

You would even tell him your problems, when a day went wrong or someone would bother you... and in that case, the next day that same person wouldn't be alive to tell the story. You thought strange at first, not knowing why everytime someone was mean and rude to you, they wouldn't be alive the next day. But then you put all the pieces together... so from that moment you stopped telling him when someone messed with you, unless it was really necessary and serious;

Sometimes you would tell him he was your guardian angel, to which he made a disgusted expression, making you correct yourself to "guardian demon";

"That sounds so much better, sweet cheeks." he said before winking at you. Every time he did that, you would blush furiously and hide your hot face, since you were a very shy and timid person, specially around him for some reason. He loved teasing you just to see you embarrassed, but of course he respected you, so he never crossed the line;

And all of this leads to now, where J is practically considered your weird best friend, the one you tell everything, the one you can truly trust and ironically, feel safe. If you only knew that one simple walk would make all of this happen... how funny life can be, putting two completely opposite people together and create this unbreakable connection between you two... like they always say, it's just destiny doing his work.

[tinyshe]

June 3, 2021 Your Excellencies, Do You Even Believe? Jennifer Hartline 

The learned and the mighty have been weighing in now for weeks regarding the ongoing scandal of Catholic pro-abortion politicians, particularly Speaker Nancy Pelosi and President Joe Biden, and the question of giving and receiving the Holy Eucharist.

I wonder if the USCCB will listen to a voice like mine. I am not a theologian or scholar. I am an ordinary laywoman. (Please note: This is not directed at the bishops who have spoken out publicly in defense of Eucharistic and moral coherence. Those few, steadfast shepherds are the exception, not the rule. I am immensely grateful to them.)

The scandal isn’t merely the Catholic politician who betrays the Faith. It is also those priests and bishops who shrug and nod, issue utterly worthless statements about the need for greater “dialogue” about what to do, and bemoan their “immense sadness” over the whole thing.

You lament the present “situation” and issue another statement about your sadness.

The “situation,” of course, is that baptized Catholics who publicly profess their devout faith are using all their political power and energy to facilitate the ongoing slaughter of the child in the womb. They guarantee half a billion dollars each year in funding for the killers. They protect this “right” (their language!) with legislation and fight every attempt at restricting the killing.

They do this gladly, without remorse, without any intention of ceasing. They are proud and empowered in their zealous advocacy of slaughtering innocents.

Yet, you only find your indignation and courage to condemn the “politicization” of the Eucharist. We must not “weaponize” the Eucharist, you solemnly warn, as though you are oblivious to the truth that it is Biden and Pelosi et al. who are “politicizing” the Eucharist. It is they who have made receiving Communion a litmus test of “inclusion” and “conscience” and “unity” according to the world’s demand.

To these scandalous Catholics (and to the rest of the Church listening) you speak with all the conviction and authority of a whimpering dog. The public figures in question laugh at your carefully worded, heavyhearted softballs, knowing they will whack it right back in your face.  

They sing the tune, and you dance on the end of their strings. It is clear who preaches to whom.

I can only conclude, sadly, that you do not believe. Nothing else makes any sense.

If you truly believed the Eucharist was the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, then you could not be so careless. You could not be so indifferent to the mockery of the King by those who publicly disavow His authority.

Or maybe what you don’t believe is that abortion is evil. Maybe you do not really believe it is always wrong to kill the child in the womb. Maybe you do not believe it is morally imperative, or even a good idea, to outlaw abortion.

That would help explain why this “situation” has gone on for decades, like a horror movie on endless repeat.

If Pelosi and Biden championed the legal right to kill kindergarteners, and poured half a billion dollars each year into an industry that existed solely to kill kindergarteners, would you have any qualms about them receiving the Eucharist? Would you still say that it was a political statement to deny them the Sacrament?

The unvarnished truth is that Pelosi and Biden actively work for the abortion industry. Do you understand that? Who works that zealously for something he truly believes is wrong?

Or perhaps you do not love. It would seem so because there is no love in betraying the Lord. Nor is there any love in enabling the death of souls in your charge. Or will you argue it is not a mortal sin to kill the child in the womb? If it is a mortal sin, how can it be justifiable to deliberately enable that sin? What excuse can possibly be offered for one who champions the killing of innocents, who personally and professionally benefits from partnerships with those who kill?

These are the ones who scold and sneer at your gentle chiding about the “protection of the unborn.” You refuse to act with courage and clarity to confront their heinous actions. You refuse to call them to repentance and fidelity. You refuse to care for their souls.

It is not a private matter any longer. It hasn’t been for many years. The scandal is public, the effects far-reaching, the consequences of your inaction are devastating. It is incoherent, inconceivable, that you, as a body, are conflicted and unsure whether it is right and just to withhold the Eucharist from any Catholic who willfully persists in zealous facilitation of abortion.

One wonders if you still believe in sin at all or have any fear of Hell at all. The faithful sheep still do, and we need shepherds who recognize the wolf as a threat. Unfortunately, I have seen how you shepherd. I have seen how you compromise and make excuses, and I have no confidence you would act any differently toward me.

You would leave me to the wolf. You would choose some other, lesser love over love of God. You would “accompany” me on the wide road. If I were lost in mortal sin, deluded by the evil one, participating in acts that will condemn me to Hell if I do not repent and convert, I could not count on you to tell me unchanging, hard truths. You would not offer me severe mercy, only counterfeit mercy.

You are unwilling to risk the mockery and scorn of the world, so you preach inclusion and unity rather than repentance and conversion.

You pretend that a soul can openly betray Church teaching and still claim to be a faithful son or daughter of the Church. You are there with handy excuses for why all the teachings of the Church are hard to embrace in their entirety, given all the complexities and pressures of daily life.

You do not love. You do not believe. What other explanation is there?

There is set before us life and death, the blessing and the curse. How long will you go on pretending there is any “dialogue” still to have? What is left to say to Herod at this point?

source Crisis magazine online

[aesthbaby]

Because I Love You

Summary: Angst/comfort story. Check out the request for an actual summary

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x gender neutral reader

Request: This one

Warnings: Cursing | fighting

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

She didn’t come home.

She left you a voicemail saying she was sorry but she didn’t come home.

Rationally, you called Penelope and she didn’t really tell you much except that this case really got to Emily. She didn’t say anything on the jet back but everyone knew it really got to her. They had a rule, never take your work home with you. After everything that’s happened with Morgan, Hotch, and JJ the team had made a promise to never take your work home with you. You and Emily don’t have children like they do but it was the same principle, the best way to keep their loved ones safe is to keep them away from their work. You didn’t know that was a rule they made; all you knew was the Emily hardly ever talked about her job and just chalked it up to her being closed off.

You had to hear about the rule from Penelope when you called her all flustered and worried. Apparently Em stayed later than everyone to finish her reports but since she was silent throughout the whole thing everyone was worried. Penelope volunteered to stay behind and keep an eye on her but eventually Emily convinced her she was fine.

So when you called and asked where your girlfriend was, she didn’t know what to say. 

“Emily, baby, please pick up. I know you’re not okay, I mean I know you’re physically fine. I didn’t ask Pen to ping your phone because I know that’s an invasion of privacy but don’t underestimate me Emily Prentiss.”

That’s the 6th voice mail you’ve left for her and now its two in the morning. You’re on the couch eating Twizzlers (mostly just chewing on them because it calms your nerves) while some trashy reality show is playing in the background. When you first moved in together you couldn’t sleep without her next to you. It took some time for you to get used to the empty space in your bed and being woken up by her crawling into bed at late hours. She would snuggle herself under your arm and just listen to your heartbeat after a long day. She always thought you were asleep so you’d play along while she would tell you about her day. Its the most vulnerable she’ll let herself be; although you’d prefer it if she talked to you awake, you’ll take what you can get. Just when it felt like you were settling into a routine, she up and does this. You’d finally gotten her to agree to do an emotion chart with you. As ridiculous as it sounds it was something you used to write in your bullet journal years ago, you bought Emily one so she could do the same. She resisted at first but now she likes doing it (but she’d never admit that). Writing her emotions down has helped her be more open with you.

“I’m sorry y/n but the last time I saw Emily was on my way out of the bullpen, hours ago.” JJ sleepily tells you over the phone. “But I’m sure she’s fine, probably just needed some space after today.”

“Right...well, sorry for waking you up JJ.”

“Oh no, don’t worry its fine. I’m still finishing up some paper work for Henry’s new school. Who knew getting into a private school would take so much work out of you?” She laughs.

“The uhm...The Merit School?” I doubt I’d ever send my child to a school THAT expensive but who knows.

“Yeah, its going to cost us an arm and a leg but its a really great school.”

“I wish you guys the best of luck, and I’m sorry for bothering you so late.”

“Anytime,” Right when you’re about to hang up you hear her call your name. “Take care of Emily for me--for all of us.”

“I will JJ.”

Then you texted Garcia but never hit send because you already feel bad for bugging her earlier.

So you bothered Reid instead. You two have never been close but you do bond over vintage movies every now and then. You practically beg him to break this rule the BAU team has put into effect. The doctor was hesitant to tell you anything but eventually he did after rambling on about something that didn’t make any sense he gave you a brief summary on why he thinks this case may be hitting Emily so hard. “The unsub was the lieutenant for the local cartel who had been killing off his lovers. Those being undercover detectives who he would nicknames his wives. They would have to feign loyalty to him no matter what he did and by the time we arrived he had already executed three of them.”

“Why did he kill them?” You ask not really wanting to know the answer.

“There was a mole in the department. When he found out about them he...uhm...”

“Its okay Spencer, I get it.”

After a moment of silence he says, “Emily’s going to come home to you y/n. She loves you, we can all see it.”

“Thank you Spencer.”

Your concern is slowly morphing into frustration. How could she do this? She knows how worried I get if she simply leaves me on read. If I did something like this, Emily would have my head! Oh and what happened to aLwAyS teLLiNg eAcH oTheR tHe TrUtH?? Guess that doesn’t apply to her huh.

You get up to take a shower but instead you run smack dead into the coffee table. You’ve got to be fu- 

“Oh hi Sergio.” The black cat dances around your legs. I think this cat senses my impending anxiety. “At least you’re here, your  mommy is going to be in trouble when I see her.”

Where the hell are you Emily Prentiss? And like magic you hear the door unlock and open. I’m going to kill her. No no, I am going to give her a stern talking to. You know what? I don’t even feel like arguing--actually I do. “Sergio, hold me back.” Y/n, breathe, you need to empathize and sympathize with her. Or else this could get real ugly, real fast.

So, you sit down in the plush arm chair you begged Emily for when you first got here. She thinks its ugly but eventually she stopped trying to fight you. “Emily. Elizabeth. Prentiss.” You pronunciate each word slowly.

And there she is, white button up shirt tucked into her hundred dollar Express slacks with a double breasted blazer over the whole thing. My baby looks good but I will show no mercy for this behavior. “Hey.” She says casually, like she hasn’t been MIA for hours. “I brought Pad Thai.” She dangles the brown bag while locking all the locks on the door. A total of four, five if you count the alarm system. She goes straight for the kitchen without looking your way. No doubt that’s suspicious. “I couldn’t decide between cheese rangoons or egg rolls so I got us both.” You hear the fridge open and close but you still haven’t seen your girlfriend’s face. “Sorry for not picking up earlier. I needed time to get my head together.”

“Emily.” You almost growl the name. “Please, come and sit down.”

“You know at first I thought I’d get something from that fancy Slovakian place you like but then I remembered how sick I got last time.” She walks straight past you without a glance, into your shared bedroom.

This is unbelievable. “If I have to call your name one more time, Emily there will be hell to pay.” That seems to get her attention. She walks back into the living room but her back is to you and her head is low. Emily’s head never hangs low. “Look at me, Em.” When you’re met with nothing you stand, “Meet me half way Emily. Look me in the eyes.” You walk up to her and gently turn her by her shoulder. Her eyes have a sheer layer of pink over them, she’s not crying but she wants to. “Em...” You let out a brief sigh.

She walks out from under your grasp and heads toward the kitchen again. “Y/n...can we just go to bed? Eat trashy Chinese food like we always do and watch, I don’t know? The Bachelor?”

“You hate that show.”

“I know...”

“But you need something to take your mind off of today...” You nod, you know her too well. She’s silent in that moment. “Em I know this is about Ian Doyle.” Her eyes shoot up to yours. “Don’t be mad but I made Spencer tell me.” She turns to walk away but you grasp her hand, firmly. “You have no right to be upset about that Emily!” You and her hardly argue so the shout that came from your mouth was shocking. “I had to hear from your friend what was going on with you because you tell me nothing!” You’re in tears and it looks as if she feels some level of guilt. “Nothing Emily! I respect your privacy to the best of my abilities but this is where I draw the line.”

“Why do you care?” You look at her in complete disbelief. “Y/n why do you care so much?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me?” You don’t curse much around her (away from her is a different story) so this is how she could tell when you’re really upset. “Are you serious Emily? Why can’t you just open your heart to me? Is it honestly that hard to sit down and have a decent conversation with me?”

“Y/n,” She pauses. “Why do you care about me? Why do you care about any of this?”

“Because I love you! Do you not understand that? I’m constantly worried about you and the main reason has nothing to do with your job. Its because you compartmentalize so well that it feels like I don’t even know you sometimes. I never know if you’re actually okay because you don’t tell me anything! Not knowing what you’re going through hurts like hell.”

“Y/n...Its not what you think. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Emily,” You take both of her hands in yours. “I’m not the one that’s hurt, you are. I know you don’t like to talk about him but baby if you keep this shit bottled up it will destroy you.” Her mouth opens and closes like she wants to say something but nothing comes out. “The victims reminded you of yourself, didn’t they?”

“What? No,” She tries to shrug off your question. “They were detectives. They were young, blonde, and sporty types. That’s not me.”

“They had to pretend to be in love with a drug lord.

“No...”

“They had to pledge allegiance to a man who didn’t think twice about killing them.”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Someone from their own department exposed them and for that they were executed.”

“Stop!” She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t scream. Her voice is broken by the tears welling up in her eyes.

You lay your palm on her cheek and look deep into her brown eyes. “These women were betrayed by the people sworn to protect them. Their lives were taken by a man who called himself their lover.” She starts to cry a little more and you feel bad but this has to come out.

“Stop. Please.” She chokes.

You wrap her in your arms, with her head on your shoulder. “It could have been you...”

“It could have been me...” She repeats after a beat of silence.

“But it wasn’t you.” You just hold onto her until she pulls away.

“Y/n...I’m sorry.” She takes your other hand in hers. 

“Its okay.” You just hold your love like this is the last time you’ll ever meet. She deserves so much more than what this world has given her. She’s worth more than she’ll ever know. “He will never lay a hand on you ever again.”

She looks at you with the saddest eyes, it reminds you of the childhood pictures she’s shown you. “Never.”

“Never.” You repeat. You sniffle a little while wiping your eyes. “Now, did I hear you say you brought Cheese Rangoons?”

She laughs a little at that. “Yeah...about that...”

“What?” Your eyes narrow on her.

“There’s only one left.” You playfully punch her shoulder. “I ate like three in the car.” Its good to hear her laugh after the day she’s had.

“Its okay.” You grab the bag from the fridge and two bottles of water. “Now, you and I are going to eat in bed and talk about your day while Keeping up with the Kardashians plays in the background.”

“But I hate that show.” She wines.

You steal a quick kiss before heading to the bedroom. “I know, we’re just using it as background noise.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[munsonsduchess]

So. I re watched The Magnificent Seven again because I’m at home self isolating until my housemates covid test comes back in a couple days so I made some notes. Presented below as I watched the film … again

Teddy looks like he wants to say something to encourage Matthew not to speak but like he just can’t find the courage to speak up

Everyone turning to stare at Sam as he rides through the town. Like they aren’t used to seeing a man of colour make something of himself.

The bartender who tells Sam they don’t serve ‘that kind’ as a direct insulation that they don’t serve Sam’s kind. Which could have just been because Sam is a lawman and the barman is an outlaw but could also be more than that

Faraday isn’t as stupid as he looks. He knows exactly who Dan is and what Sam’s purpose was. He could tell something was happening and was ready in seconds with a gun drawn to help Sam.

He sticks around after everyone runs out because he knows Sam’s occupation and seems to want to know more.

Emma has obviously been searching for someone who could help for a long time. Teddy stopping her from talking to Sam and her acceptance seems to imply that they’ve spoken to people before but that no one has taken them seriously. Maybe because Emma is a woman

Emma is clearly ready to offer up anything she can to find ‘righteousness’. It also seems like she’s more than ready for a fight.

Sam had decided upon hearing Bouge’s name that he would take the job and then when Emma shared her convictions he knew he could pass off his intentions as unselfish if anyone asked

Faraday cheats at cards and is scared of the dark confirmed. He’s also clever enough to use his wits to get out of a situation when he’s seemingly at the mercy of two other men

Faraday has issues around killing people. He clearly shows remorse for his actions. He doesn’t seem to like violence but he’ll use it to get what he wants if he needs to

Does Faraday know who Joan of Arc is?

He’s also apparently willing to throw his life away for strangers

Emma is not here for your shit

Teddy is a good boy and he’s here to help his friend on her vengeance quest as all good friends should

Vasquez wants Sam to know that he’s not the type of man who kills in cold blood. He uses Emma as leverage because a white woman’s death will look worse for Sam

Sam offers to tear up the warrant to get Vas on his side but I have the feeling he would have done it anyway

Vas taking a minute to decide and figuring if he works with Sam there’s a possibility of him going free and not having to run anymore

GOODY! That hip swagger

“That’s ok son you just pay me double” Goody is a respected member of the community and his reputation proceeds him so there is a level of fear there at offending him or anyone associated with him

Faraday is clearly interested to see how people react to or behave around Goody. To see how the man stacks up to the story

Goody very interested in who Faraday and Teddy are and what they have to say. Putting them off their game by speaking in the middle of the saloon while he’s getting a shave

“I keep him employed and he keeps me on the level” clearly Billy has been helping Goody with his demons far beyond what we see later

Goody and Sam being friends warms my heart

That good old southern breeding. Goody can’t resist being charming

“Ain’t no such thing as a Texican” that’s one hell of a loaded statement right there

“This is not going to end well” couldn’t have said it better myself Goody

The Famous Pigeon Brothers who weren’t famous for very long

“I believe that bear was wearing peoples clothes” Joshua the man was snuck up on in the dead of night, had a boulder smashed over his head and has been tracking the culprits for two days. I don’t think you’d be in your right mind either

“Don’t call the alligator big mouth till you cross the river” Goody just has all the best advice

IT’S MY BOY!

There’s obviously something Faraday is trying to drown in all that whiskey and Teddy knows it which is obviously why he tells Faraday to keep it

Emma doesn’t trust Farday at all

Goody knows what’s up although he’s not one to talk about the battle behind him

MY SON! HE’S SO PRETTY I WANT TO CRY

Sam giving Vas the gun so he’s less threatening to Red. Same way he left his gun outside when they went after Vas

I love that Martin cut his hair off to be historically accurate but damn what I wouldn’t have given for a long haired Red in this movie

Peace offering or trolling? Both? Both.

“Yeah ok I trust you now”

Can I also say I love how Martin learnt to ride bareback for the historical accuracy? Like historical accuracy is my jam. Now I just wonder how accurate the costumes are

“Oh good it’s a black man and an Asian man quickly call your children inside for who knows what havoc they might bring”

I do love how the racism is never as overt as someone using a slur but it’s always there just under the surface

“Manservant? Really?”

Did they practice how they were going to come into town and look imposing or do they all just instinctively know how to pose? I know Goody does anyway

I cannot keep a straight face when Farday calls himself the worlds greatest lover

Sam has no time for these Blackstone men and I am here for it

Sam’s horse is just called Horse

Goody having PTSD flashbacks before the shooting even starts since he’s clearly triggered by just the situation

A western staple where the bad guys always miss and the good guys never do

At times like this Mal Reynolds comes to me speaking words of wisdom “shoot the man not the horse, a dead horse is cover, a live horse is a whole lot of panic”

Faraday and Vas being very gay and poor confused Red like “tie him up what?”

“Lincoln like the president” and goody just “oh damn”

Someone please give Emma a better shirt. She’s gonna spill out of that one

“Seems I was the only one with balls enough to do so” damn right you were

Emma just breaking down when there’s no one around to see her use she has to be strong

“Fame is a sarcophagus” “what’s a syllable?”

TABLE MANNERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TABLE MANNERS

Goodbye to the working girls the town isn’t the same without them

Emma has a better shirt! She still looks like she’s gonna spill out though

Shooting lessons with Goody and Faraday

“The way of northern aggression”

Billy’s class just running away because he’s way too good

“Make me some eggs”

“GET SOME GRAVEL IN YOUR CRAW!”

Faraday trying to goad Goody into proving himself. Sam’s wariness and Goody turning around and showing Faraday just why he got the title he did despite the reasons why he doesn’t pick up a rifle anymore

Do any of them know what Jack is talking about?

“So far so good”

We’re to assume it’s Goody picking off Bouge’s men at the mine since he’s the only one who could make those sorts of shots which means Sam has talked him into doing it even though he’s seen what happened to Goody during the initial fight

“I’ve always wanted to blow something up”

The look on the faces of the people who live in town as the miners come through. They’ve always lived separately from these men and now they’re forced to look at their faces and see just how they’ve all been living

Sam putting the dynamite in the hotel like it’s no big deal

Poor Peter Skarsgard. He’s the bad guy or the poor Dad in a horror movie while his dad is spooning Colin Firth on a boat in Greece

“I worked for my money. I wasn’t given a million dollar loan. I’m a good guy”

Emma can shoot just fine. She does not need you Faraday

“I had a father thank you” “I didn’t” proceeds to show off as if to prove himself

“They say the nightmares never go away” no they really don’t ask Goody

“Avenge me!” Yeah faraday it’s not that hard

“I am to fight” “it comes to that and we’re all dead” excuse you Sam but Emma is the one who brought you here and she’s the one who’s been raring for the fight since the beginning but sure put her with the women and children

I’m also so mad they cut out of the scene of Vas and the school teachers kid talking

“I have three Maria’s!”

I’m afraid of owls too goody you aren’t alone

TABLE MANNERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

How long had Bouge been in Rose Creek and making the residents live in fear? That it had to be the seven who were able to show them how to live their life again

Those loose white shirts though 👌🏼

Squinting into the sun as the realisation dawns

Sam knows Goody better than Goody knows himself and Goody knows Sam better than Sam knows himself

Sam doing his best to help his friend with his PTSD but Goody just can’t

“It looks like he’s started to drink” that’s because Goody was his friend his best friend and there are untold emotions and god knows what else between them and now that man had left but not just that but left him behind is torturous

“I’m hungry” You little shit!” Red Harvest. Professional Troll

Sam seeking refuge in what’s left of the church. Feeling the proverbial noose tightening as he clutches at his neck

Emma reminding us what this whole endeavour is for. How it all started. How it’s going to end

Bouge sitting back because he’s sure his hired men will be enough. He’s never faced opposition before so he’s confident he still won’t. Or at least that his money will solve all his problems

Also if Red only wears his war paint for special occasions and if he was tracking the group prior to joining them does that mean he put his war paint on specifically to talk to Sam

Another man in Goody’s spot in the bell tower because presumably he’s the second best shot with a rifle or the only other person they could trust up there

A+ use of Fox holes though

Jack reciting his prayers as he goes absolutely feral

Faraday’s happy little smile when he finally gets to blow something up

Jack trying to help as many men as he can, men who are fathers, husbands, good honest men

Bouge who doesn’t seem to care one ounce that the people in the village are being slaughtered and bringing the battling gun out just for extra overkill

“You ok güero?” “So far so good”

“We still have men there sir” proof that Bouge does not care one single ounce for human life that isn’t his own

That rebel yell

“The devils breath” I can only imagine how a Gatling gun got that name especially from a war vet who’s likely seen countless friends allies and enemies alike be blown down by this devil

Faraday being concerned for the children even though he’s injured himself

Jack protecting Teddy at the cost of his own life. Defiant of Denali to the end But accepting his death with a sigh believing in his faith that he’ll be rewarded in heaven and reunited with his family

“I knew you’d be back” Billy has so much faith in Goodnight and I’m gonna cry

Emma with an empty gun putting herself in front of an injured man between the injured man and Denali

Denali ain’t shit!

“You’re a disgrace”

“My daddy used to say a lot of things” these two I cannot cope

“I might need a new vest” Faraday you reckless idiot

“Hit the steeple”

“I got him!” “Oh Goody” I’m not crying you’re crying

I know there’s a lot of talk about Chris Pratt being the worst Chris but he was so good in this movie I swear. Which yeah I know doesn’t change anything but when you see him playing Faraday in that last scene where it’s all down to him. I can’t

“I’ve always been lucky with one eyed jacks”

Nope definitely not crying. Not me

Bouge’s complete disregard for human life as he surveys the town

Bouge V Sam

“If god didn’t want them sheered he wouldn’t have made them sheep” says a man who feels no remorse at all for the blood on his hands

This time it’s Bouge who’s going to feel the noose tighten and I am here for the cinematic drama of it all

God won’t save you now Bouge. Run into the church you like. It’s not going to help

“Ask for forgiveness” The reveal of the rope mark. What Sam has been doing in Rose Creek this whole time. Why he took the job at the mention of Bouge’s name

[elencelebrindal]

Honest Opinion - Athena

General Overall score: 5/10

Part 1 - Saori Kido

Called Lady Isabel di Thule in the Italian dub, a name that I quite like. It’s cool. It’s in Pegasus Fantasy too, click here if you want to listen!

Overall score (character, not looks): 3/10

She’s definitely not my favorite character of the whole series. As a matter of fact, Saori is one of the female characters I dislike the most. 

As a child, she was insufferable, spoiled, with no sense of respect for other people. If little Saori wanted something, she didn’t care about how people would feel about it. The fact she had to be reprimanded by Mitsumasa, when Jabu ended up injured because of her antics, told everything about her. 

And then, she grew up to be... that. Initially, I genuinely hated her. I don’t like Seiya, but when he faced her about his sister, and about the promise she clearly didn’t intend to keep, I was totally with him.  Saori only cared about Mitsumasa’s ambition, back at the beginning, she wanted every Saint to fight in the Galaxian Wars to realize his dream. Without knowing the real reason behind it yet, not until she was told about being Athena. 

But even then, things didn’t change so much.  I appreciate how keen she is for business, and how straightforward they depicted her in dealing with the whole mess of problems following Ikki’s appearance and the theft of the Sagittarius Cloth.  That’s it.  I don’t like her personality, because it’s completely up to what the plot needs and not consistent.

Also, how stupid do you have to be to send you enemy a letter informing him you’re coming?!  I get the symbolic gesture, but that was so dumb. No wonder she almost got killed in the process, that’s what she literally asked for. 

There are moments where Saori comes up as forgiving and smart, don’t get me wrong. But there’s also the fact she’s in love with Seiya, and most of the time she doesn’t care about everyone else because he’s important and they’re not, in her eyes.  This is just worse when she finally takes on Athena’s role, and almost nothing changes about this behavior. 

And to end it, why is Saori even still around? It only made sense during the Poseidon Arc, when she attended an event as head of the Foundation, but in any other circumstance? She’s Athena, she’s supposed to stay in Greece, at her Sanctuary. Not strolling around as Saori, in her mansion, while her Saints struggle in the aftermath of a devastating battle.  Her constantly keeping up the whole “I’m Saori, and Athena when I want to” it’s honestly infuriating. It doesn’t make sense, and I’m so happy in Hades she finally got some sense knocked into her brain. 

Part 2 - Athena

Just the translation. Atena. We’ve been amazing with her name. 

Overall score (character, not looks): 2/10

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is not how to be a goddess.  I know some of you might think I’m being too harsh with her, I know there are people who love her. But I said I was going to be honest, and honest I will be.  Because this Athena is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.  (She does get better in the Hades Chapter, I like her there, but bear with me here).

Listen, I’m not saying a goddess shouldn’t care for one Saint over every other, refuse to be where she needs to be because her human side is too appealing, and be so useless she doesn’t do anything for 90% of the series... who am I kidding, I’m totally saying it. 

I will be fair. She did useful things. She healed the Bronze Saints and aided them (if only just a little bit) during the Twelve Temples Arc. She tried to be of help during the Asgard Arc. She was willing to sacrifice herself during the Poseidon Arc.  Those happened. She took on her role as a goddess, and fulfilled it. Even if kind on unsuccessfully. 

But, and this is a huge but, she doesn’t care for all her Saints equally. You can tell she cares more about Seiya, she constantly helps him more than anyone else, she legit ignored other Saints in favor of him.  She also didn’t care for the Gold Saints, after the battle against evil Saga (listen, I’m still not sure about the whole Arles thing being international, don’t @ me); Athena, being Athena, should have stayed in Greece. With the Gold Saints who die every damn generation for her. She didn’t. Everything ended, and back to Saori she went, in her million dollar mansion, with five Bronze Saints who were not as shocked and devastated by what happened at the Sanctuary as the Golds. 

Also, what about the Silver Saints? The one time she showed any kind of interest towards them was with Babel. It’s like she doesn’t give a damn about all the ones who died, the majority of which under evil Saga’s spell.  What gives, Athena? 

And don’t get me started on how many times she gets kidnapped, it’s so ridiculous. Though, she did get a (sort of) fair treatment in Legend of Crimson Youth, where she actually tried to conjure up a plan against Abel (she failed, because of course an Olympian gets defeated by someone who isn’t even a real god, but fine, te effort counted), and Warriors of the Final Holy Battle. This, actually, is the movie that actually gave her the best justice. Athena acted like a real goddess here, willing to do whatever it takes to be of help, trying to save her Saints before letting them intervene.  Sure, she lost herself at the end, but this is what really gave her the only points she has. 

Part 3 - Comparison with the mythological Athena

This is mostly because I love Greek Mythology, and I wanted to give my opinion on how Athena has been represented in general, without taking into consideration Saint Seiya’s plot.  I only have one word: BAD.  Athena is not a perfect goddess, with a pure heart, obsessed with world peace and safety.  She’s the goddess of strategic war, not of peace and justice. She did her fair share of awful things, alongside the good deeds.  Kurumada representing her as this flawless, spotless deity never met my full approval.  If anything, she should be a warrior just as much as her Saints. It’s not like she cannot fight (her Kamui, anyone?), but it’s more like she is not supposed to fight.  Also, I want to point out how stupid is that Kurumada’s Athena is literally everywhere, included Lucifer’s story. What a bunch of bullshit. 

Part 4 - Legend of Sanctuary

Lady Isabel and Atena again. Consistency is the key.

Overall score (character, not looks): 8/10

A little bit better, compared to the classic version of her, especially considering her backstory. She’s been represented as a kind person, as a child, and I appreciated that. I don’t like how different that was from the main show, but it was definitely better. More fitting for a character like her.  Even though, I still think it’s ridiculous she was able to use her cosmo like that as a child, whilst not knowing about the whole Athena thing. 

Now, she did have those classic moments of “it’s time to be awkward with Seiya, even though now I know I am a goddess and should not be doing this”, but honestly?  She was better.  This movie had a whole deal of hilarious scenes with her, and a lot of sad and difficult ones, but they all made sense. Her not knowing how to react at suddenly being told “hey, you’re Athena!”, her laughing and being amazed, everything was fitting for a human character trying to understand something bigger.  This didn’t happen in the classic series, Saori just switched back and fort without a care in the world in there. 

Saori, in this movie, doesn’t become Athena until the very end, but while being Saori, she also had a deeper understanding of her being a goddess and having the power to help her Saints. 

I loved the scene with Aiolia, where her human side didn’t know why her godly cosmo kept her from fleeing, and instead wanted to protect the Bronze Saints and save Leo from his ignorance.  And I loved how Saori scolded the Gold Saints, went out of her way to save who almost died for her, despite being weakened by Saga’s doing. She cared for all of them, without choosing a favorite, and made it until the end with a reason for her Saints to still follow and defend her. 

And even though Seiya stole everyone’s spotlight, she didn’t side with him and with him only, like what happens time and time again in the classic series.  But she didn’t stay with the Gold Saints, and that’s the worst thing Athena could do; the Bronzes don’t need her. the Golds? Yeah, they do. They lost companions and friends, and their houses received a beating.  Athena being merciful towards Saga doesn’t save her from all the critiques I’m going to throw in her direction for going back on Earth. 

[chiimmchiimm]

❝𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝓉𝑒𝓃 ❞

CHAPTERS “  01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -  11  - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “  

The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of ​​going to shower alone.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair).   𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒:  smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 4 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔:  +18   𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔:   dirty language, proposals, mood swings, spectacular bodies, muscles, biceps, problems, future friends ?, jealousy, confessions.

                                         Fear is an ephemeral feeling that can cause great consequences if we let it dominate us. I don't know if what I felt at that moment was fear or a simple tingling of what could happen, but I had already gotten into this and couldn't turn back. Halfway there, Lucy had harassed me with slightly irritating questions. When we crossed the patio door and saw where she was looking, her nerves betrayed her.

"What are you supposed to do? You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone." She begs, her cold, wet fingers brushing my wrist to stop me.

"Jimin won't find out about me, calm down. I know what I do."

Heading towards a stack of men stacked with Lucy behind me. Getting all kinds of reactions, some men frown their frown over my meddling in their affairs, others decided to be a bit more impolite and not cut a hair how much they needed female company. There I found him, sitting with his legs in the position of an Indian, playing what seemed to be a most innocent game of cards, although anyone who needs some intelligence could realize that it was not so much.

I couldn't even take the privilege of approaching him so that he could see me because a blue movie (the same one I saw in the cafeteria on the fateful day I met Hong Kong) had got in my way with too much determination. Although he was not as tall as Thirteen, I did have to stretch his neck up a little to give him an annoyed look. He had delicate features I agreed with his white skin, however, eyes injected with fury turned away any sweetness from him.

“Suga.” A slightly weak voice rang out behind me. The blue movie put all his attention on the way Lucy came out of hiding. The boy angry with the world seemed to soften his frown for a moment. "Please let her pass."

“Is she a friend of yours, Dallas?” Her question caused me some discomfort at the simple fact that it seemed that if I wasn't, my person was worthless. My friend nodded slowly before shrinking back behind my back. Suga snorted moving my hair causing it to form a face of torture, I did not like to get my breath in my face. All without getting out of front. Imitating a dramatic inhalation pass by him with the same annoyed air as him.

"I'm going with everything." He said, a man with an orange hairy beard. He bent his entire body to drag all the tiles onto the concrete. I looked immediately at his opponent too intrigued, Thirteen seemed too focused to worry about his surroundings, he did not notice my presence until he gave a smile full of pride to the redhead. As if my person will be a stimulant for him, he imitated the bearded man's gesture and slipped his own with too much confidence. Jimin, who was next to him, showed an expression of confusion mixed with a little more alarmed, it seemed as if the act of his friend had caught him by surprise. Thirteen brought a finger to his lower lip to touch him, he transmitted so much confidence that the redhead had no choice but to make his letters known. I opened my eyes surprised at how good his letters were, that redhead had a straight flush. Seeing himself as the great winner of the game, he leaned his body back with an air of pride. "Thirteen, it seems that I have ..."

The redhead closed his mouth impressed when the chestnut man revealed his hand. I throw the full as if he didn't care, then he got up and approached me.

"Graff, collect the money for me." His tone did not sound like an order, but rather, a proposal that the blond did not take long to accept. Deeply rolling his eyes in my surprised expression, he smiled under his breath as if that gesture was only for me. No need to open my mouth, as if reading my mind, he leaned toward my ear and whispered in a hot sigh. "Come with me, gongjunim."

Without unnecessary waiting, take a breath of air before following you to the other end of the large courtyard. He walked slowly with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed and the most serene look he had seen so far. He seemed quite happy despite not expressing it directly with a smile, well, actually, he was like that, he never showed emotions, only if it was necessary. Probably his good mood was due to the exorbitant amount of money he had just won, but the brightness that I perceived in his eyes when he turned and supported the fence, yelled at me that there was something else, that he was not only elated by the simple fact of having won a couple of dollars.

"You have accepted my proposal, I deduce. I must admit that I am surprised by how quickly you have decided, precious."

I frown intensely when I hear his compliment. Actually, he seemed in a very good mood, with a triumphant air that even the smallest insect could disturb. Arecosto the head while lowering a funny look towards me. His thick neck was in the front line, I had to take a lot of willpower to avoid being hypnotized by the movement of his Adam's nut. Coming out of my little temporary trance, I clench my lips and direct an overrated face towards his direction.

"Those are the bets?" Playing cards like little children? ”My scroll forms a sideways smile full of fun on his lips.“ I don't know who is most surprised. Thirteen, if you or me.

"There are many types of bets, gongjunim. That was just one of the many games my people are dedicated to. You know ..." He takes off the back of the gate to straighten and impose his height. He stretched his neck up to have more access to his facial reaction, which despite being almost neutral, I can perceive excitement from the discussion. As if it were his most banal custom, he leans his mouth over my ear to disturb her with hoarse whispers. "... keep up appearances."

“That is very good for you, isn't it?” I take the audacity to whisper directly on her cheek, to subtly paste the surface of my lips. My most lucid self is screaming at me internally how much I have spent making such a provocative gesture. However, when Thirteen tightens the jaw and separates with the darkened look, my imaginary self begins to dance in a triumphant dance. His proud smile had been overshadowed for a couple of seconds by a little confusion, frowning as he realized my ironic tone. The discussion I heard between Lucy and him has not yet left my mind, really, I never thought I saw him so broken. Taking advantage of their state of confusion, I opened my lips calling their attention to them, I remained silent for a couple of seconds, without reacting to their dark pupils, but sanity came to me like a tsunami. "I want forty percent of the profits to help you win. "

Her sharp laughter completely paralyzed my imaginary dancer, she looked at me with a big question in her head while my real self kept an eye on her peculiar laugh.

"You'll be twenty, that's what the rest of my people earn."

Expanding his eyes to his stingy attack. It is as much as he is that this percentage is too small. I urgently need the money to help Lucy and with that misery it would take weeks to cover what Shanghai is exaggeratedly asking.

"But I'm different." I mutter softly to sound much weaker. My sudden change in attitude seems to affect him, his shoulders stick to the ends of his neck with momentum, his gaze darkens more and he licks his lips. It forced me to continue this absurd game that I didn't even do where I am going, I am really desperate and if I have to use the tricks of a pampered girl to get what she wants, Eevee have mercy on my soul. "It was you who you asked me to help you. "

His wildly sensual smile almost destroyed the foundations of my security. My role as a weak girl was almost endangered when referring to her large body mass, she took a step towards my direction to almost completely hit our bodies.

"To increase that percentage you will have to earn it, a lot." Pronouncing that adverb too slowly, he kept his gaze fixed on mine waiting for it to be the first to yield. I did not do it. I don't calculate when time we were caught in each other's eyes, but enough for my sudden tremor to betray my urgency. I didn't know exactly what crossed his mind at the time, but when he looked away at the wall, I thanked him with a deaf gasp. "I'm going to give you thirty percent, if I see that you serve, I will give you forty for sure that you ask me."

I opened my mouth to close it instantly. Actually, it was more than I expected to get, really, I had said that percentage in a guiding way. Surprised at how well I had managed to cope with the situation, I turned around with a smile that was increasing as I moved away.

"That means that from now on I will become your personal trainer."

My smile disappears before I turn at him.

"I wasn't serious about being my coach." He tried to make sure that he was playing a joke. I looked for something in his expression that revealed his amusement, but he only looked at me with a serious look.

"It was a contract we stipulated in the gym when you tried to mistreat my bag."

"Yes, but ..."

"If I'm not your coach, you can't help me with the bets."

“But why? I already told you that I am a disaster, is that, really. I don't want you to owe me a favor, I don't care about those things ...

"Then there is no deal." His lips open and close too tightly. His brow frowns intensely before releasing a frustrated growl towards my direction. Then he turns and starts to get away from me. Flapping with exaggerated hands before running behind him. My fingers wrap his wrist in an attack of hysteria, he stops quite tense, as if the single act of my touch will cause him an accumulation of emotions that I would not know how to control. I notice the process of dilating his veins under my palm, I feel chills from the warmth of his skin. It is the first time I touch him, when I realize my actions, I withdraw the altered hand.

"Okay." I close my eyes when a little shriek escapes through my nerves. He says nothing, he simply advances as if he had said nothing. Leaving me practically at the mercy of all the curious looks that had been spectators of our scene. Suddenly looking down to the ground with my cheeks flushed with shame, not knowing if my modesty was due to my overexposure or the simple fact of having become manipulated.

A blow to the face is what I need to get back in me. With my head in the clouds while thinking about meaningless things with my eyes glued to the ground. Apart from the fact that Lucy had just hit me practically in the face with a rolled towel, I decide to let it be and concentrate on the task of collecting the empty bottles in a little pile.Another day that passed in this prison, I sighed reluctantly. It is true that Lucy's presence is pleasant to me (as long as it does not hit me with strange things), that the days make me more pleasant, but that does not take away the fact that I crave the freedom I know I deserve.

This morning, as I passed the calendar hanging on the wall of the cafeteria, I realized that today was the day I had been in this place for a month. As if being exact, there were three weeks left for my birthday, that little memory caused me to sigh again.

Glancing over the towel cart, I see Lucy wipe her forehead with her sleeve.

"You shouldn't work so hard, you're pregnant. The first weeks are the most important." I knew willingly that my scolding was not going to take it well for the simple reason that I was very stubborn. Confirm my suspicions when, in an act of total immaturity, he stuck my tongue out. I gave him a tired grimace before throwing the last batch of bottles in the trash. "It's a serious matter. My aunt almost lost my cousin ..."

"What luck." She whispers, under her breath and with her chin inward to avoid being heard, but my great auditory sense catches her immediately.

"What do you say?"

Throwing the towels badly, he gives me a foul look.

"What you hear. I didn't want it and if it dies then goodbye very good."

"You're talking about a life, Lucy." I reprimand, with accusation glistening by my tone of voice. "Your son." I whisper, this time ensuring that no one will listen to us. Looking at all the places where there could be people to verify that they were not following our conversation.

"I don't want it." He spat quickly before he rolled up a towel and threw it into the cart angrily. "It's my last word."

"But..."

"Hey, Blair! I thank you for helping me in the Shanghai affair but that doesn't give you the right to get into my life like that, except in such an intimate affair. You don't know ..." stop talking suddenly. His eyebrow frown almost instantly when he sees something behind me. Swallow sharply, your lower lip begins to shake leaving me stunned. When I decide to turn around, I meet Thirteen, he raises his eyebrow at Lucy, but she can't stand it and leaves the gym dragging the cart too quickly. He stays a couple of seconds analyzing in the direction that Lucy has left, frowns as I look at her profile. He seems worried but confusion also plays an important role in his gaze.

Then, lead your eyes to my direction.

“Come on?” “It's not a question, it's an order because it advances without waiting for an answer from me. I close my eyes and sigh overwhelmed. The gym exit was so tempting. I do a little breathing exercise to relax before turning and following. Actually, I can't understand the insistence he has to help me with my duck sporting ability. He stands in front of a punching bag and then bends down to deposit a bottle at the foot of the structure, his wonderful flexing muscles are visible. I silently follow his movements until he looks at me again, quickly looked away from his body completely ashamed. Traveling across the ground I look at him again to find him lost at the exit. You must still be thinking about Lucy. When he returns to his position he grabs the bag with both hands. "He has three attack zones, the blue one for the head, the red one for the body and the yellow one for the lower extremities. As you can deduce the other day you were trying to hit the area yellow."

"I already told you that I am a disaster, and I do not understand why you are still ..."

"Put your fists up." He growls, he's annoyed at my little collaboration, I can tell by the pressure of his jaw. I roll my eyes and abide by his order, I hold them in his direction but soon I was repressed. "Taller woman, you don't want to let them beat you."

Under the arms of blow.

"I have short arms, I don't give more of myself." I answer, wrinkling my nose as I move my arms dramatically in random directions. It is not my fault that I was born with so little spirit of sport. He suddenly stopped any action when I hear how a small laugh escapes his lips, one that immediately suppresses. Get serious again and pat the bag to divert my attention, but I can't help but see the way in which his lips have silenced that involuntary emotion. Actually, it seemed as if he didn't want me to know that my little self-criticism had seemed funny. I frown, it must be quite strenuous to keep your face so rigid all day.

"You have to shrink your body to reduce the exposed areas, in your case it will be easy you are a dwarf."

I let out an indignant scream.

"Excuse me, sir, I am taller than you." I am not short, my height falls within the middle. "I answer, pride transpires through all the pores of my skin.

"Yes, whatever you say. Now, give it." I feel a strange sense of comfort from the hint of fun in his voice, adding the fact that his words despite sounding uncompromising his expression said the opposite. I find myself imitating his act, clenching his lips to prevent the smile that threatened to leave, did. I hit the red zone to start at once with this impromptu training, suddenly I hear a pout of disapproval. "It doesn't happen that way."

"Then stop complaining and show me how it's done." I growl and, as I pat the sack through the cloud of anger that dominates all reason. Thirteen, raise an eyebrow surprised by my change in attitude. His pupils shine with something that is not described, it seems joyful but I am not sure. The next thing I do not see coming, it is placed behind me sticking his chest against my back, his hands move towards mine to lift them, I attend the first blow. It controls the movement of my body so naturally that I feel like a puppet. With each blow, a small push is accompanied, the redness of his legs brushes the back of my knees. I stop an involuntary gasp when his pelvis crashes into my butt in an abrupt motion. I feel my cheeks burn, my mouth is open as I remove myself to separate myself from it. To my surprise he releases me right away. I feel, as the heat of his body leaves mine when he stands next to me while he frowns confused. It is only after realizing my shameful little state when he realizes the reason why discomfort has been represented on my face so furiously.

His ladino smile doesn't help me at all.

"What happened, beautiful? Have you been excited?"

My cheeks burn under my palms when I cover my dead face with shame.

“Have you done it on purpose, right?” I growl, the words don't come out too clear from my coat of hands but I don't care. I know you heard me because a tongue click sounds.

“The what?” His little question, not at all innocent, causes me to run away from my shelter and uncover my face.

"That." I get the voice fast and stained with too much sharpness.

"And what is that?"

I open my mouth indignantly when I notice his intentions, he wants me to say it, he wants to see how I describe that so rough behavior. Thirteen, just resting an arm in the bag to get close to my face, he is mocking me, but unlike the other times he has had the audacity to mess with me, he had never done it that way, if he did not know his explosive character would even swear he's flirting with me. I discard that possibility with too much effusiveness, you are simply practicing your favorite activity, making fun of me. Nothing else.

"Always acting with such correction, gongjunim. Aren't you tired of always acting? I know you have loved what I have done to your little round butt. I bet you have loved the shape of my thrusts."

"Do not..."

"No, what." Take advantage of my evasion to bring his mouth to my ear.

"Don't do that." I whisper, fleeing from its heat moving to the other end of the bag. I put my back on the latex and crossed my arms. I am aware that I have betrayed myself with my cowardly behavior, but I have really been forced to act so impulsively because of the uncomfortable way in which my body began to succumb to its menthol breath. I do not know what happens to me when it is close but I begin to suffer ups and downs of chills that I fail to understand its purpose. I know you're behind me, I see your body reflected in the mirror in front. He rests his arm leaving his bulging bicep in sight, but he looked away almost out of necessity.

"Hello, Blair." A terribly familiar voice sneaks in between us. I look again at the mirror to find the image of Brain at the gym door. Moving away from that suffocating atmosphere, I walk slowly towards my friend knowing that I had a look nailed to my neck. I extend my arms and give him a friendly hug in the form of a greeting. As I separate, I see Brain's lovely smile. A blow to my back causes me to form a fist in Brain's jacket. I look sideways at the mirror beside me, Thirteen strikes the sack with such emphasis that the poor object swings enthusiastically. It's amazing how easy it is to hit, it seems as if he really knows what he is doing. Each blow is directed with such precision that if it is not because Brain was here, I would sit down and admire his skill. His voice brings me back. "Mrs. Smith has left the hospital, tomorrow you can return to your old task."

"Okay." I accept, I return her smile kindly. I close my eyes when another blow breaks into the room. Brain sweeps Thirteen's body with contempt for the scandal he was forming. His perfume interferes with my nostrils as a welcome intruder, a smell of lime rather than relaxing that leads me to approach him.

“Was I bothering you?” Brain's soft tone creeps into my heart like a pleasant storm. Another blow much more strenuous than the previous ones causes my shoulders to strike a start. The squeaky sound of the chain roars furiously with each punch, Brain narrows his eyes when in a quick warning, he can see how Thirteen does not take his eyes off his, indirectly provoking him with strong latex attacks.

"No." I am forced to intervene, I feel chills of regret all over my body, I wasn't sure if I told him about my small deal with Thirteen. "I'm fine, go to work."

"Safe?"

"Yes, go."

After a few long pleas for him to do his duty, the blows stop as if it were a miracle. Turning on my own heels, I find myself crossed my arms towards his person. Thirteen successfully ignores me with the cheap excuse of wiping the drops of sweat, which he had so arduously built along his brow for extreme exercise. Putting all my self-control into practice so as not to look at her skin, transparent through the fabric, I frown.

“What?” He growls, despite finding himself without an apex of breath he keeps his mouth shut.

"What was that?"

"It's called boxing, beautiful." Ironizes, through an unbearable tone.

I put my eye white.

"You're so bipolar ..." I sigh, tired of always having to carry the rational part in our pointless conversations. Thirteen is an effusive smile but so false that I drown in my own self-control. Glue a light (more than intentional) push to the bag, the latex hits my stomach causing me to bend at the sensation. I sigh, I jerk him away. "And now why do you behave like a little boy? Just ten minutes ago you were crazy about your sister's behavior ...”

Shit.

Oh holy shit.

“What the hell did you just say?” I had never seen him whisper so nervous, letting himself be carried away by a massive attack, hit the bag so hard it almost slipped off the roof. The chain squeaks elated by the attack, I can not help but shrink in my own fear, I deeply analyze his change in attitude because at one moment he stops breathing through his mouth and sinks his head into the sack, covering all possibility of seeing what it was Your expression now. I am pleasantly surprised when an affected whisper comes out through the tiny hollow of his arms. "Did he tell you, Lucy?"

"No, I heard it ..."

Take off the face of the sticky material, give me a confused look. From the pressure of his lips I can deduce that he is pressing his tongue against the palate, he was nervous, surprised and a little upset. I never thought that all those emotions could fit in one glance, every day I discovered a new facet of his personality.

"You can't tell anyone."

“Why?” I asked, lost in the depth of his confused eyes.

Resting his back in the sack as the only support, sliding a hand down his face to clean the frustration.

"Because it is better here not to have people you love, Blair."

NEXT

[dustinjohnson1981]

my first post

This is my first and maybe only post. I don’t know what to do anymore, I’ve been homeless for 3 months and it doesn’t seem like anyone cares. I’ve tried reaching out for help with shelters, churches, and even government programs and haven’t been able to get any assistance. Shelters won’t help cause I have an 11 year old pit bull dog that I’ve had since she was a few months old. She’s the sweetest dog you will ever meet, but because she’s a pit bull, there’s that stigma that she’s aggressive, which she isn’t. I’m no saint, and I’m not here to try and lead anyone on to thinking that I am, but I am a good person. I’m just an ordinary person, trying to get through this hell we call life. I have a couple people I call friends, but in reality, we’re more acquaintances that have just known each other for like the past 16 years. Maybe I’m just too different from the rest of humanity, but I would do just about anything to help a friend out if they were in my position, but my “friends” don’t want anything to do with me. I feel like I’m a burden and think I would be better off dead. I definitely don’t have any reason, any purpose for living, I’m just a waste of human existence. I’m not really into religion, at least definitely not the go to church every week type, and lately, about all my faith in God is me cursing at him for making me homeless, if God is even real. So of course religious people jump at me for those comments saying it’s the Devil, not God. I’m like, ok, if it’s the Devil, and he was one of God’s angels, why does he allow the Devil to exist still? God is suppose to be all powerful, all knowing, all loving, but he lets humanity suffer here on Earth. Religion will say I was created in the image of God, and that he already knows everything that is going to happen before it happens, so first, it’s like what in the hell was God smoking when he created me the way I am and then knew I was going to end up homeless and contemplating suicide. I never asked to be born, to be raised in an abusive family. I am thankful that at 39 now, I had the common sense to tell myself when I was 8 years old I will never have a wife of children of my own, so that way I won’t risk repeating the cycle of abuse. I feel like whether it is God, or just bad genes in science talk, I definitely got the short end of the straw. Being 5′5 sucks for height when women seem to want tall guys. And I definitely don’t have the skills for social interactions, probably why I’ve never had a girlfriend. I always end up in the friend zone. I compare my attributes to that of Danny DeVito in the movie, Twins, with Arnold Schwarzenegger. If you haven’t seen that movie, I recommend watching it, it’s a good movie. I wonder where I went wrong in life to end up homeless. I grew up being good with numbers, so always thought I was going to be an accountant, but was never good at anything else in school and really hated going. Tried my luck in college and that was a complete waste of time, can’t write 3-5 page essays for English, so was never able to finish my AA degree. I was always a fan of WWE wrestling growing up and that was like my dream to be a wrestler, but again, being short and untalented and uncharismatic, that was never going to happen. I can say I at least tried for it though, trained for almost 2 years before getting a minor tear in my shoulder.  I have no real skill set when it comes to work, I’ve spent my entire life working in warehouses through staffing agencies. Not being good is an understatement when it comes to job interviews. No matter how much I try and prepare for the questions, I always just freeze up like a deer in headlights. I hate working in warehouses to begin with, companies just treat employees like slaves, especially if you’re through an agency. They literally need no reason to end your assignment, so if they just look at you and decide they don’t like you, you aren’t going to last very long, that or they’re going to have you do the lowest type of work they have and force you to want to quit. They make you work 12 hour shifts days a week and only want to pay you minimum wage or slightly above that while as a company they make millions of dollars. And they do this to employees year round, regardless of weather conditions. So during summer, when it’s 102 degrees outside and your in a truck loading or unloading, it’s going to be like 110-115 degrees inside that truck and same in winter times, when it’s cold outside, it’s even worse inside, especially if you’re on a forklift, cause now you’re driving up and down lanes pulling pallets and you’re feeling the freezing wind as you drive. So I haven’t worked in about 2 weeks now and not sure when my next assignment will come, or if I’ll even take it. Obviously I need to so I can have money for food for my dog and myself, but it’s so depressing that I have nothing to show for my life. I’m in and out of motels these 3 months of being homeless, my checks barely cover the cost for a week at a motel. So my other bills don’t get paid, or if they do, their constantly being late. Having around $45,000 in bills/debts ain’t fun neither. I don’t even know why I made an account here and am writing this, I doubt anyone will read this and even less likely I will get any help. I’ve heard of Tumblr, but never really knew what it was. I only just found out after watching the Netflix documentary on Elisa Lam. When I have friends that won’t help, family that put me in this situation, why would complete strangers want to help me. I’ve tried GoFundMe and have had absolutely no luck there, I feel like you have to have a huge friend base on social media for that site to work. You post to your friends who share to others and so on and hopefully get people to help whatever the cause that person posted about, so for me, that just was a waste of time. Same with Twitter and TikTok, people respond how they feel bad for me but I can’t get anyone to want to help me with finding a job and a place to live. I can’t rent anyways, as I found out in December after applying to several places and being rejected, my grandmother put something called a judgment on my background so when apartments run a check and that pops up, they immediately decline my application. And renting a room isn’t an option neither as people don’t want my dog. I just feel hopeless and defeated in life and don’t see a reason to go on. I was just reading about the horrific car pile up accident in the Fort Worth, TX area the other day and feel bad for all those people, but at the same time, wish I was one of the six that died so that I could be gone from this world. Same if I could, I would gladly trade places with a child that’s dying from cancer or even if it was for one more day, trade with an someone’s parent, so that they could have that one extra day to tell that parent how much they love them before the parent passes. To be unloved in life, to feel completely invisible and unnoticeable to everyone around is one of the worse feelings I think you can have, and that’s how I feel everyday of my life. I don’t know why I keep hoping my life is going to get better, reality is it only ever gets worse by each passing day. And I don’t fear suicide or death in general, for me, it’s the pain I’ll endure in those final moments that scare the hell out of me. Like slitting my wrist or throat and bleeding out, or drowning. All the things that probable flash through your mind as your body reacts and obviously goes into fight or flight mode and tries to survive. Even jumping off a building or a bridge and watching yourself fall to your death, the panic you probable feel of how much pain you will feel when you hit the ground or get hit by a truck, or taking a gun and pulling the trigger, hoping that the bullet goes through exactly the way needed so that you hopefully don’t feel a thing as you fall to the floor dead. To me, it’s the process of dying that’s scary, not death itself. Death itself is mercy, I no longer will feel any pain, physical, emotional, psychological or any other way. Just nothingness, much how I feel my life is. 

[odderancyart]

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, abuse

I wanted to write Razz - who has been abused, both mentally and physically, by his queen - meeting Goat Mum

Running his fingers over the book spines lined up along the walls, Razz smiled. His eyes sparkled as he looked out over the bookshop Papyrus had brought him to. There were so many books. And they were available to anyone, for almost no money at all, lined up in dark brown bookshelves, filling every wall of the small shop. Never in his life had he been able to even dream of such a thing before everything went to hell and he and Slim had been forced to search refuge in Undertale. Which had been humiliating at the time, that he, the Maleficent Sans, Lieutenant of the Royal Guard, had to plead to their counterparts to let them stay because Slim had been an idiot who openly spoke ill of the queen, and thus got the death penalty immediately.

But now… In all honesty, he was grateful. Even if he’d lost some of his prestige coming here, it had been a good decision. His gaze caught on one of the books, a bright red one. Curious, he pulled it out. It felt different than the others in his hand – leather, he realized. It was leather bound, and the cover was decorated in gold. The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. They’d watched the movie only two weeks ago. He considered it, regarding the price tag. Nineteen dollars. Back in Swapfell, he would’ve choked if he’d seen a book sold so cheaply. Especially a new one. As the lieutenant, he’d had access to the Royal Library, but those books weren’t his. He was only allowed to them on the mercy of the Queen – a privilege he’d lost many times because of his failure.

He swallowed as a shiver travelled up his spine, and shook his head. No. Not his failure. Her cruelty. The Undertale brothers had allowed them to stay on the condition that they went to therapy, and he was realizing now that what Her Majesty had done wasn’t justified, wasn’t right. It was abuse. But he didn’t want to think of that now. Just a moment of happiness, here surrounded by books, couldn’t be too much to ask. Doing his best to shove those thoughts back into the darkness of the back of his mind, he clung tighter onto the book. He’d buy it. Couldn’t pass up on such an opportunity after all, even if it was commonplace here. To him, it was precious.

“Have you found something?”

The bright voice made him twitch, but he nodded as Papyrus approached. The taller skeleton was holding a whole bunch of books in his arms. Some Young Adult, probably for Frisk, a book about mechanics, undoubtedly for Papyrus himself, and three different Sherlock Holmes-books. Discomfort crept upon Razz at the thought of wasting so much money on something not necessary, but he shook it off. Not his money, not his universe. The Tales didn’t need to save every penny to survive. He held up the book he’d chosen, and Papyrus nodded approvingly.

“Fantastic! A true classic, according to Red.” Red, who, to Razz’s shock and great amusement, studied literature after the monsters of Underfell reached the Surface. Oh, how he’d laughed when he’d found that out, and then been forced to dodge the bullets his counterpart had thrown on him. Good times.

“I can’t believe how cheap books are here,” he commented, stroking his finger over the gold engravings of the cover. “Something like this would’ve cost an arm and a leg back home.” Either that, or a full body, if you didn’t have gold. Many vendors would take that instead. But he didn’t mention that. It wasn’t like he ever would’ve agreed to that, so it wasn’t relevant.

The look on Papyrus’ face was both concerned and happy as he shrugged. “They’re cheaper on the Surface than they were Underground. Though I’m certain books in Swapfell were even more expensive than those we had.”

Razz nodded. Everything had been. Swapfell was an oligarchy, and resources were hoarded by those who could afford to live any other way than hand-to-mouth. He glanced meaningfully at the pile in Papyrus’ arms. “Undoubtedly.”

He only received a grin.

The bells hanging over the front door to the shop tinkled, signalling someone had entered. A teenager’s laughter was heard, followed by a too-familiar voice. “Calm down, my child.”

The feminine voice sent sparks through Razz, and he stiffened, cold sweat dripping down his neck. Papyrus had turned away from him the moment they heard the laugh and didn’t see. “Frisk!” he greeted cheerfully. “Ms Toriel!”

“Papyrus, so nice to see you,” the warm voice said, and a face he’d never forget stepped toward them, a thirteen-year-old following behind, smiling brightly. But Razz didn’t pay that any mind. The white goat monster towered above him, dressed in a royal purple dress, the Delta Rune decorating her chest as a diamond brooch. Queen Toriel, looking down at him, fury shining in her eyes as he just stood there, staring at her. He couldn’t move, his limbs had frozen. Her throne towered behind her, its back reaching almost all the way to the ceiling, and dead flowers crunched beneath her feet as she took a step forward, raising a clawed hand.

Pain flashed through his body as his knee hit the wooden floor, but he hardly registered it. “My Queen,” he whispered, but his voice shook, and he cursed himself. Weak, a voice in his head whispered. It sounded exactly like hers.

Paws against the floor. He dared glancing up, mouth dry as a desert, and he saw her come closer. Instinctually, he braced himself for pain. A soft, fuzzy hand was placed on his shoulder. Razz couldn’t stop the tremors shaking his body, the hitching of his breath. Claws digging into his shoulders. A fiery agony, and he’s curled up on the floor, sobbing as he tries to protect his broken ribs from further damage. “Disappointing,” a voice says. A voice he’d always admired. A voice he owed everything. “I expected more from you, Lieutenant.”

A voice he’d left.

Oh Angel, she was going to kill him, wouldn’t she? He’d betrayed her. Committed treason when he fled with his brother. Razz squeezed his eyes shut, but it couldn’t close out the images of her throne room, decorated with dusty children’s toys. Like a twisted nursery.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, to stop trembling, he clenched his fists against the floor. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he forced out, managing to keep his voice steady. The words felt gross in his mouth.

“Oh- Oh,” she said, and throwing him off. Why did she sound uncertain? “For what, my friend? And you needn’t call me Your Majesty, I am no longer the queen. Toriel is just fine.”

What? He dared to steal a glance upwards. Three sets of eyes were staring at him. He met a pair of red eyes, and he bit down on his tongue as he quickly turned them down again. He tasted blood and phantom pains wracked his body already. He met her gaze without permission. But she gave him a command. “Toriel,” he whispered. The name tasted like ash without the Queen in front of it. “My apologies, To-” He broke off, taking a shaky breath. The word was stuck in his throat.

“Razz?” A gentle voice said, and the hand finally left his shoulder. The heat and weight had begun to grow intolerable. Someone knelt in front of him. “Razz, deep breaths. Look at me.” His brother’s voice, but without the roughness the smoking had given it.

He looked up, meeting soft orange eyelights, and intent gently pressed against his soul, asking to be let in. Safety/Protectiveness/Control. Razz began to shake. He dug his fingertips into his palms, hissing at the pain as they drew blood. “Papyrus?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Papyrus replied, rubbing soothing circles over his neck with his thumb. “And so are you. Queen Toriel isn’t here. You’re safe. Your brother is safe. No one is going to hurt either of you. We’re safe.”

“I- I’m sorry, Your- Your Majesty, I- I can’t-” Couldn’t use that name, couldn’t disrespect her like that. Couldn’t endanger both himself and his brother. His teeth chattered, suddenly he felt cold, and he didn’t know why.

“Shhh.” Papyrus hushed him. “Can I hold you? Is that okay?”

After a moment of hesitation, Razz nodded. Warm arms embraced him, holding him gently so he didn’t feel trapped. He gasped, clutching onto Papyrus’ shirt, hiding his face in it. The scent of soap and faint remains of oil had his soul settling somewhat.

“I-” that familiar voice mumbled, making him tense again. “I think we should go. Come, my child. It was nice seeing you again, Papyrus.”

Papyrus only hummed a reply, and Razz could finally breathe again as she disappeared, as he couldn’t feel her familiar presence anymore. He remained in Papyrus’ arms for another while before shaking them off, standing up and exhaling slowly. Rolling his shoulders, he glanced nervously around. They were alone in this part of the shop, luckily. No one had seen his breakdown. Thank the Angel.

“Are you alright?” The question was gentle, unjudgmental.

Razz shook his head, clenching his fists to keep them from trembling. Slipped into the façade of the soldier he’d had many years to make perfect. “Can we go home?” His voice was quiet, soft. He needed to check with his brother, remind himself that they were safe. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks. Oh fuck. That had been Undertale Toriel. He’d broken down in front of a stranger, a stranger who didn’t even have an ounce of power after she abdicated. A teacher.

“Of course. Do you want to buy the book first?”

He only nodded, bowing down to pick it up from the floor after wiping off his blooded palms against his black trousers. He hadn’t even noticed he dropped it. Much to his relief, it had landed on its side, and was completely unharmed. Pressing it to his chest, Razz glanced toward the counter, made of dark wood, which was empty. A little silver bell stood on it, for calling on the clerk. “I’ll be right back.”

Papyrus nodded, his smile encouraging.

Razz still felt cold as ice when he made his way toward the counter, clutching The Scarlet Pimpernel like a lifeline. But he kept his claws folded toward his palms rather than into the leather. He couldn’t damage something so precious, after all.

He was still trembling.

[aion-rsa]

A Hopepunk Guide: Interview with Alexandra Rowland

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We talked to author Alexandra Rowland about hopepunk, a term she coined in 2017.

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This interview with Alexandra Rowland was part of my research for "Are You Afraid of the Darkness: A Guide to Hopepunk," a feature written for Den of Geek's New York Comic Con print magazine that delved into the hopepunk term, first coined by Rowland in 2017. I recommend beginning with that article before diving into this full interview transcript.

Den of Geek: What is your current definition of hopepunk?

Alexandra Rowland: Well, there's the glib answer: “Hopepunk is the opposite of grimdark”, and there's the more nuanced answer: Hopepunk is a subgenre and a philosophy that “says that kindness and softness doesn’t equal weakness, and that in this world of brutal cynicism and nihilism, being kind is a political act. An act of rebellion.” (from my essay,“One Atom of Justice, One Molecule of Mercy, and the Empire of Unsheathed Knives,” which is the closest thing that I've written to a hopepunk manifesto.) Whichever you choose, it's important to remember that punk is the operative half of the word – punk in the sense of anti-authoritarianism and punching back against oppression.

Has that definition of “hopepunk” changed since you first coined it in 2017?

Yes and no. The heart of it hasn't changed at all, but my efforts to remind people of the angry part of hopepunk definitely have grown. The instinct is to make it only about softness and kindness, because those are what we're most hungry for. We all want to be treated gently. But sometimes the kindest thing you can do for someone is to stand up to a bully on their behalf, and that takes guts and rage.

Do you consider hopepunk a genre or something else?

I mostly talk about it in the sense of a subgenre, yes – similar to how we use the words grimdark or cyberpunk. But it's important to remember that the sorts of stories that we tell (and how we tell them) reflect our values and perspectives on the world, or at least a value or perspective that we're striving to understand in some way.

By telling hopepunk stories, we necessarily have to be asking questions like, “How do we care about each other in a world which so aggressively doesn't care about so many of the people in our communities? Who do we consider community, and is that definition too narrow? How do we fight back against the people who want to make us sit down and shut up?”

By asking ourselves these questions, hopepunk expands from simple “genre” to an entire life philosophy. It sticks in the back of your head and changes you, a little bit.

What are your favorite examples of hopepunk?

Sense8, Meg Elison's The Book of the Unnamed Midwife, the Russian movie Stilyagi – these are all amazing (and sometimes difficult and emotional) works. But as far as I'm concerned, the face of hopepunk is Sam Vimes, a character from the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett. He's a gritty, hardened cop who is introduced when he’s lying blind-drunk in a ditch. He's tired, he's flawed, he's jaded and cynical... And yet he still, right at the basement foundations of his heart, believes in something. He gets out of the ditch, sobers up, gets his life in order. He holds onto his principles with a white-knuckled grip because he knows how easily they could slip away from him. He knows how easy and comfortable it would be to let himself become corrupted by his cynicism. But he stands up, sometimes against whole armies, and refuses to budge from what he knows is right and just. He is the very embodiment of: “No, you move.” And they do. The whole world does.

How intentional was that initial post? Was “hopepunk” something you had spent a lot of time thinking about before you wrote that initial Tumblr post?

Hah, the first Tumblr post was just that glib line “Hopepunk is the opposite of grimdark” and it was entirely off-the-cuff. It wasn't until a few hours later, when people were reblogging it and saying, “Wait, I think there's something here and I think I understand it instinctively, but can you explain so I can be sure?” that I started actually examining what I meant and discovered that oh, actually, yeah, this is important and it's something that I care about deeply.

I have seen some criticism, generally, of the overuse of the word “punk” as a suffix. Do you ever wish you had used a different word? Were there other words/phrases you considered?

We think that “punk” as a suffix has been overused because many of the recent genres that have invoked it did so for aesthetics (ie: to reference “cyberpunk”, the first instance of the compound), rather than because it meant something, and that’s annoying. Cyberpunk is punk. Steampunk is not – in fact, steampunk often reinforces the imperialist, colonialist narrative and ideals, which is the opposite of punk.

I have never wished I used a different word. The purpose of language is to communicate meaning clearly, and “hopepunk” seems to have carried its own meaning with delightful efficiency.

Do you think there’s something specific to Tumblr as a social platform that allowed hopepunk as a vibe to flourish?

I think that the very format of Tumblr was part of it – while Tumblr is terrible for having an actual conversation with someone, there's one thing it's really good for: you can write an essay as long as you want and then people can share it effortlessly. With Livejournal and Dreamwidth, you could do the former, but not the latter. With Twitter, you can do the latter, but the former is tedious in the extreme. That said, hopepunk didn't stay on Tumblr very long. People were crossposting screenshots of the post to Facebook and Twitter within the first 48 hours.

I think that hopepunk as a vibe flourished simply because it was the summer of 2017. We had a new president and the world was terrible and frightening. We didn't know what was going to happen, and whether it was too late to change anything, and so many of us were looking around for... something. Guidance, or comfort, or a promise that Good would eventually triumph, or ways that we could make a difference and heal the world. We were starving for stories that would tell us how and why to resist. I didn't invent the vibe – the vibe was already there and already burning. All I did was name it.

Were you surprised by the amount of attention this Tumblr post and hopepunk as an idea has gotten?

Initially, I was just vaguely bemused that anyone was listening to me, but at the same time I understood intellectually why hopepunk was resonating with people. Simply put: they were hurting, and hopepunk was a thing that helped comfort the hurt. In hindsight, I'm just very happy – when so many people find a philosophy like hopepunk meaningful and compelling... it sorta restores a bit of your faith in humanity, doesn't it? Maybe all is not yet lost, if there are enough people around to say, “Oh. Yes, this.”

Why do you think there is a need for an idea like hopepunk right now? Do you think culture is becoming more or less hopepunk?

There is a need for hopepunk because our president is a fascist. Because there are children dying in concentration camps within our borders. Because Jeff Bezos makes nearly nine million dollars per hour while his warehouse employees risk homelessness. Because we think it's normal that people should go bankrupt if they get ill and need medical assistance, or that they should get an Uber to the hospital instead of an ambulance. Because climate change is real. Because children have safety drills to practice what to do in case of an armed shooter in their school. Because racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and ableism exist. And there is a need for hopepunk because it reminds us that these dragons can be slain. Because it reminds us that there's power in a union, that communties banding together can make a difference. Because the moral arc of the universe bends towards justice. We've beaten them before, and we can beat them again, and the next time after that. The work is never finished, and the fight is never permanently won. But we keep fighting anyway, because it is the fight itself, not “winning”, that’s the point.

As to whether we're growing more or less hopepunk... It is easy to embrace despair and to think that the world is unrelentingly terrible, but at the end of the day, we're all just human. As individual humans, we haven't appreciably changed in tens of thousands of years. We still struggle with personal flaws and failings, we're still rude and inconsiderate and selfish, and we're still all making the same mistakes that our ancestors were making hundreds and thousands of years ago. And yet, as a society, we haven't managed to kill each other off yet, and we do keep striving relentlessly towards something better.

Do you think of hopepunk as a reactive idea? Does it have to be in relation to grimdark/noblebright or is it something bigger than that?

I think that all genres are reactive -- the purpose of storytelling is to show us possibility, and authors, since they are humans living in the world (sounds fake, I know), naturally react to the social context around them. Trends in horror movies, for example, reflect the shared cultural fears that we face. In the wake of WWII, the horror genre was fixated on the monstrous side effects of radiation. In the wake of 9/11, we got a spate of horror movies about airplanes.

Grimdark and hopepunk are reactive to two opposite social contexts -- they are the man standing at Julius Caesar’s shoulder as he rides his chariot through the cheering crowds, whispering to the emperor: “This too shall pass.” In some contexts, it is a warning (grimdark). In others, a comfort (hopepunk).

You are involved in lots of fandom spaces. (Love your Good Omens fanvids! Thank you for your service!) Do you think transformative fanworks tend to be more hopepunk than mainstream works or curatorial fandom?

Oh absolutely. I think of transformative fanworks as Marxist creativity. It is a group of people literally seizing the means of production and making the canon anew in their own image, often because so many of us haven’t seen ourselves reflected in mainstream media. Also I just have big feelings about Art being an ongoing conversation, and how Fan Art is a valid and legitimate part of the conversation and that it deserves to be acknowledged and honored. (And on that note, thank you for the lovely compliment!)

Tell me about Choir of Lies. Would you consider it hopepunk?

A Choir of Lies is the standalone sequel (meaning they’re a thematic pair but you can read them in either order) to my debut fantasy novel from last year, A Conspiracy of Truths. They are about fake news and the power of stories, and Choir specifically is about fantasy tulip mania, grief, recovery from trauma, and how we use stories to heal ourselves. It was deliberately and explicitly written with hopepunk in mind -- problems are solved by communities rather than by heroic individuals, and sometimes the most important and meaningful thing that you can do is to make a small and simple gesture of kindness, something on the scale of holding out a hand to help someone who’s tripped. Small, yes, but important -- and to the person who is receiving the gesture, it might change everything.

More generally, do you intentionally try to write hopepunk stories?

In general, yes, I do tend to. I write about characters being emotionally vulnerable with each other and relying on communties and networks of support, and characters who knowingly engage with systems of power and oppression. I write about ways to solve problems that don’t involve violence. I write about ethics and what we owe to each other. I write about basically good people being flawed and messy and broken, and about basically awful people having complicated moments of shining grace and humanity. I write about characters who are smart and who think about themselves and their impact on the world, and who wonder out loud how they can do better. I write about characters who care, ferociously, about other people.

What else are you working on right now?

Ongoing projects include my two podcasts: Worldbuilding for Masochists and Be The Serpent (the latter of which was nominated for a Hugo Award this year!). I’m always writing something or other, but nothing that I can talk about publicly yet in any detail, beyond that they’re book-shaped things.

Kayti Burt is a staff editor covering books, TV, movies, and fan culture at Den of Geek. Read more of her work here or follow her on Twitter @kaytiburt.

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Kayti Burt

Nov 6, 2019

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NYCC 2019

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[theotherstephencobert]

Final March Blog a Day Challenge - # 18 and #31

What I know for certain…

In late September of 2001 (stop a moment and think about that date) I was working at the Bank of America call center in Wichita. A caller was inquiring about a deposit he'd made that had a hold on it, and he wanted to know when the hold would fall off. When I told him, he demanded that I guarantee absolutely that the hold would be off by that date. I told him things such as, "We will make every effort to see to it the funds are available then" and "The system shows you may access your funds by that date." Not good enough for this caller; as long as there was the slightest lack of certainty, he wasn't going to accept my reply.

Finally in exasperation I told him, "Sir, I am not the Almighty. I cannot guarantee you or I will be drawing a breath on the day you're requesting. In fact, considering what happened a couple weeks ago, I'm not sure I'd put even money on this world still being here by that date!"

All right, I was being a bit dramatic there; in fact, I think I heard the caller chuckle a little after  I said that. But the story serves to illustrate my answer to Challenge #31. What I know for certain is... not a whole lot.

I have seen a meme a number of times and I think I posted it to this board some time ago: "It is a sign of intelligence to question the things you think you know. Only idiots are dead sure about everything." That's not meant to be a put-down of people who are sure of some things, such as how they feel or their life experiences. But I remember a guy from my high school class (I suspect most of us remember someone like this) whose pet phrase was "I'm positive of it". It was his great argument stopper. It didn't matter if it was that the sun rose in the west or the Pope was Hindu, this guy was oh-so-positive of everything he thought he knew. (And beyond my facetiousness, I discovered a lot of what he said he was "positive" about was in fact wrong. Which didn't slow him down any.)

Looking over the Challenges for this month, I noted I skipped #18, Spirituality, so I will bring that topic in here.

I have made mention on this blog that I consider myself a Christian. I will admit that I am human like everyone else and I have my uncertainties of some things about the Christian faith, especially areas where there seem to be controversy even among Christians (such as "tongues"). I know Who and What I have believed and believe it to be true. But there is an area that brings that whole realm of what we call Reality into question.

The image at the top of this post alludes to Plato's Cave Allegory. The idea was this: If we were chained to a wall inside a cave and all we ever saw was shadow images that were visible on the wall across from us, that would be our "reality". We would think those shadows were real because that was all we were ever shown. If we ever got unchained and saw the light that was making the shadows, we would be blinded by the light until we got used to it... but we would be seeing a truer reality than the one we thought we real previously. (This concept was central - with more modern technology, of course - tp movies such as The Matrix and The Truman Show.)

And this concept is part of the Christian way of thinking as well, at least as I understand it. Believers are told to set their sights on eternal things, not on things of this world which well pass away and prove to have been like the shadows in Plato's allegory. Certainly we are to treat one another with kindness, love and mercy, and to provide for each other. But believers are admonished that the riches and possessions we are so bent on accruing in "this world" are just shadows, things that will prove not to be real.

In his book The Great Divorce (which I have alluded to a few times on this blog), C. S. Lewis suggests that the Afterlife might be compared to "the opposite of a dream": that it will be such a reality that this thing we call "life" will seem like a dream in comparison. With that in mind, almost nothing in this world that one could say they were "certain" about would be certain in the absolute sense of that word. How could that chair I'm sitting in be real, how could that glass of water I drank be real, how could the five dollar bill in my pocket be real, if all this will someday prove to be a sort of dream that we are living? In fact, I can say I know for certain I exist... but to anyone else who reads this, what certainty can they have that I do?

I'm not saying anyone should starve to death because we can't be sure the food is real, or that you should go step out on the highway because you can't be sure the truck coming at you at 65 mph is real. But there is really precious little in this world that anyone can say is "certain".