#whatever you'd find more fun to label the point system!

[thedevotionaltour]

Daredevil #18 - "There Shall Come a Gladiator!" (May 1966)

Written by Stan Lee and Dennis O'Neil Art by John Romita Sr. (pencils), Frank Giacoia (inks)

[strqyr]

Do you ever feel isolated when you enjoy something and can see the value in a piece of media, but people online outright do not understand it at all, or even care to try to understand it to the point that they effectively scorn you indirectly every time they insult that work, and you can't do anything about it because you'd get labeled as overthinking things and "needing better taste", even though you aren't some mindless drone?

And that you wish they'd give that media a proper chance and actually making the effort to recognize your point of view instead of dismissing it because they only care about surface level impressions and listening to popular opinion?

i wouldn't say i ever felt isolated bc i do enjoy solitude and silence can be incredibly comforting ( tho this is probably more of a cultural thing rather than a me thing, specifically, but if the shoe fits ) so like. isolation isn't really a negative feeling to me bc it's kind of my starting point? but i have definitely been there where i want to see what other people are thinking about something i like, and then letting the negativity get to me and affect my own enjoyment of it.

and then i learned two things about myself: 1. despite what my brain sometimes likes to tell me, i do, in fact, like being happy, and 2. i'm that spiteful that like hell am i going to let other people ruin my fun. like. why care about "better taste" when what's really important is if you find enjoyment out of your choice of media? it's called entertainment for a reason. if i'm entertained then job well done. if not, it wasn't meant for me, and i move on. simple as that.

anyway, to prevent myself from making myself miserable, i made myself my own place where i can share my thoughts and art and all that stuff, and that's. this blog. i don't wander far from here, i filter tags and words like there's no limit ( i certainly hope there isn't lol ) and the block button is never too far. the education system here helped ensure that i came out with some critical thinking skills so i don't need other people to tell me how to feel about this and that; different perspectives are nice and all but when people start acting like only their or the popular opinion is all that matters i'm like. who are you people lol

anyway. find your happiness in cultivating your own space and not giving a damn about what other people think. i know it's easier said than done bc i've been there, but it's time better spent than trying to argue with and change minds of people who have no intention of doing so ( and really, that's their right, they don't need to like everything in the world or even give it a chance if they don't want to, and they're free to give their opinions just like you and i are, be it the same opinion or not )

sorry if this makes no sense. it's been a long day and i'm very tired, so i might have rambled a bit and completely missed the point. i guess what i'm trying to say that it's good to learn to recognize when a conversation isn't going anywhere ( for whatever reason ) and just cut your losses instead of sticking around just to walk into a brick wall over and over again.

and also prioritize your own happiness and well-being by finding or creating yourself a place where you don't feel that way.

[ma-gic-gay]

"Get. Out," Jason says, glaring at the mobster in front of him. "Aren't you supposed to be in a prison cell?"

"I was released on bail and wanted to see how-"

"Say her name and you'll be the one in the hospital bed."

"Is that a threat?"

"A promise," he smiles fakely, enjoying the fact he's the one with power in this situation. This sick bastard is the reason that his... Carly is traumatized and hurt.

"Please, leave," Carly requests softly. For a minute, Jason almost forgot she was there. He immediately goes back in his chair and wipes away her tears, which are coming fairly frequently. "I want him out of here and back in his cell."

"You heard the woman. Get out or I'll have security remove you."

"I own part of this hospital, Mr. Morgan. I'm on the board-"

"Not anymore," Michael answers, walking in with his kids and Willow. "Last night, the board took a vote. ELQ bought out your shares and the board decided you're no longer a part of it. So if I were you, I'd get out of here while you can still move."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Corinthos?" Cyrus asks, amused. "That won't fly with anyone, really."

"You made a mistake, underestimating him," Willow chimes in. "I'd leave pretty quickly if I were you. After all, we know you're going back to Pentonville, where I look forward to you rotting in a prison cell until you die a slow, painful death."

"Ms. Tait-"

"It's Mrs. Corinthos, actually," she says, glaring at him while showing her engagement and wedding rings. "Because, you see, I love Michael and he loves me. That's what these beautiful rings mean. Something I doubt you'll ever be able to experience. Then again, maybe prisoners like knowing that their fellow prisoner is a kidnapper and rapist. Maybe not. I guess you'll find out."

"I have no reason to leave," Cyrus answers a non-existent question. "There's no need for me to. I just wanted to check on Carly. I do hope I can call you that, Mrs. Corinthos?"

"No," she answers, voice weak and tears still streaming down her face. "Please, leave. You know what you did to me. So do the cops, so does everyone else in this room. Enjoy your last few weeks of freedom if you insist, but otherwise, Cyrus, get the hell out of my room."

When he still refuses to move, Jason presses the "call" button near Carly's bed and Epiphany enters the room. "Mr. Renault. Unless you need medical attention, get out of this hospital."

"Nurse Johnson," he greets. "Nice to see you."

"Security!" Epiphany shouts instead of answering his greeting. "Cyrus is in 3115!"

A few moments later, a security guard enters and escorts Cyrus out, much to the man's protests. "I'm not doing anything wrong by visiting a friend!"

Epiphany casts a glance towards Carly, "You want a sedative or something?"

"No, thanks," the blonde responds, noticing her grandkids are in the room and breaking into a fake smile. "Hey Wiley, Ophelia! Did you two have fun playing with Donna and Avery yesterday?"

"Grandma, why are you crying?" Wiley asks. "And why aren't you at home?"

"I got a really bad booboo and so I'm stuck in here for a little while. Don't worry, bud, I'll be out of here and playing with you two again as soon as I can. Maybe we'll go get some ice cream to celebrate when I get out, how's that sound?" Carly asks her grandson, simplifying it greatly.

"Yay! Ice cream!" Wiley cheers while his sister just smiles.

"Hey, Mr. Wiley, I think you have to get to school," Michael says after glancing at his watch.

"But I want to help Grandma's boo-boos feel better!" He protests.

"Grandma needs her rest, Wiley. Tell you what, maybe your dad will take you here after school and you can tell her all about your day. How's that sound?" Jason offers, compromising.

"Will you make sure she gets her rest, Jason?" Wiley asks and they laugh at the young boy's concern.

"Yes, I will. But you've got to get off to school first."

"Okay. Bye bye, Grandma and Jason! I'll be back after school."

He waves as Michael takes him out of there, Ophelia still with Willow. "Ophelia, do you wanna say bye to her? Say bye bye," Willow urges, smiling.

Silence follows that. "She's being rude, sorry about that," she jokes before bringing her out to join Michael and Wiley in the car.

As soon as the door closes behind Willow, the silent tears multiply and Carly's loudly sobbing. "How did he get out, Jason? They promised me he'd go to jail, that he'd never see the light of day again. I know it's the PCPD, but they made a promise to me! And now he's walking around town, free to see me and make me feel like I'm back in that room and he's about to-" she trails off at one point, sobs overtaking her vocal cords.

"I don't know. I'm calling Diane; this isn't making any sense."

"No need to call, Jason. I'm right here. Heard Cyrus got let out?"

"He paid a visit to us, actually, only a few minutes ago," Carly says, abruptly ending her sobs.

"Well, the DA is going to take this case. Which means Robert Scorpio is your lawyer. I'm going to be assisting him, however, and I expect that Cyrus will be put away rather quickly. If he doesn't plead guilty, than you'll go to trial. His arraignment is happening tomorrow and he's out on bail until then. After that, he will be sent to Pentonville to either await trial or start serving his sentence," Diane summarizes quickly. "Carly, when are you expected to get out of here?"

"In a couple of days, but I think they'd let me out for a court date."

"You're not leaving until the doctor's deem it safe," Jason counters quickly. "If you can't go to the arraignment, I will. I'll tell you exactly what happened."

"Well if the doctors say I can go to court-"

"Look. I'll talk to the nurses and figure out what's going on here. You two can fight about this later. In the meantime, you need to be prepared for the possibility he'll plead not guilty and take this to trial." Diane interjects. "Robert will be by later today to discuss this with you."

"If he pleads not guilty and we go to trial, how fast can we get one?" Jason asks.

"A couple of weeks, probably. Which means keeping a low profile. No business talk, no crazy ideas. Just a coffee importer and a victim of what Cyrus did to you," Diane warns. "You two don't exactly have the best reputation."

"Hey, I'm a respectable businesswoman and he's a respectable businessman. We'll be fine," Carly smiles and Diane cocks an eyebrow at Jason.

"We won't do anything stupid."

"Good. I'm going to go talk to the nurses. Carly, rest up. We'll want you at court tomorrow." Diane says before leaving, her heels clacking along the tile.

"Don't tell me you want me to stay in the hospital," Carly says, starting up that argument again.

"I don't. But if it's the best way for you to heal-"

"It's not. I'm already bored to death and, as much as I enjoy your company, I want to be at home. Or at work. Back to running the world, you know? Not cooped up in this hospital bed, screaming every few hours because I feel like I'm back in that room above Jake's, which used to be such a fun spot but now it makes me want to die inside, thinking about it. Thinking about what he did, it taints almost all of our memories there and I think that's the worst part of it," the blonde admits, smiling through her tears.

"I can think, you know, about how we got our start, and when I focus on just you, it makes it all seem so much easier. When I don't, and I let my mind wander, somehow I end up thinking about what Cyrus did. I can't even indulge in nostalgia without thinking about him, Jason. The physical, yeah I'm sore but I'll be fine. Eventually, I won't have any physical mark of it. But the emotional one, what if it never goes away? What if whenever I think of us, and that little room, I always end up thinking about Cyrus? What then?"

"Then you'll just have to think of our other memories. At the penthouse, at any of your houses, with Michael, at the hospital, any of the years worth of other memories," he offers. "They're not our only good memories, Carly. They're just a few."

"My boy on the side, remember?" She asks and they laugh. "Robin couldn't find out and neither could Tony."

"Yeah," he smiles. "We were determined to never speak to each other outside of the bar and that room. It was pretty much our only rule."

"I never did like following rules."

"Not even the ones you came up with."

"Well, if I'd followed the rules, then you wouldn't know me nearly as well and you'd be leading a sad life without me in it. You wouldn't have nearly as much fun without me," she says confidently.

"I'd also have way less headaches."

"And be dead by now."

"Yeah, probably."

"I think I've earned a thank you."

"Thank you, Carly."

"You're welcome." Smiling, she realizes something. "Hey, I just realized that you didn't kiss me that nightmare."

"Did you really want me to kiss you in front of Cyrus?" He asks.

"It would've drove him nuts."

"Yeah, well Michael, Willow, and your grandkids were in here too. Michael's already barely not killing us for having sex, I don't feel like testing that."

"No one's here now."

"Is that your way of telling me to-" he gets cut off by the feeling of her kissing him.

They pull apart a few moments later, Carly having a satisfied smile on her face. "So, how long does this whole kissing me every time I have a nightmare thing last?"

"Until we decide to stop it," he answers simply, refusing to label whatever the hell is going on here. At least, none of that until she's more recovered from this, maybe when Cyrus is behind bars.

To be continued after I actually do school because fuck the education system

@ryleighjosephine i dont know what the song is sorry