#well.. that would be heinous lie of course.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soraviie · 1 year

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you intimidate them.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation

━ about: fluff?, heavy crack, stupidest thing I've written no it's a lie I did write my university thesis, so the second most stupid thing ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: "Dude, will you stop sweating?" Yoongi asks with a distinct frown and resentment laced in his tone. In his defence, elevators were not known as being the most spacious and well-ventilated places, as well as the fact that by all biological assumptions Namjoon must be sweating spinal fluid. The man was part liquid right now.

"It's not something I can control," he growls back and pounds the handkerchief against his forehead like a machine gun.

"Maybe she's forgotten all about it," Jimin, an ever-helpful angel, pipes up from his corner of the elevator simultaneously trying to maintain as much distance as possible. "It happened a year ago."

"I doubt-" the doors open to your face and Namjoon swears his soul rips through his throat as he sweats in mute stroke-ridden silence. There you stood and from the fiery look in your eyes that promises him nothing but a lifetime of misery and suffering, he knows the small, minuscule tiny incident has not wandered off your mind.

"Hello, Miss ____________," Yoongi bids quietly and politely, brushing past as well as Jimin who offers a cheery wave. Your face lightens momentarily only to drop into a deeper frown once settled upon him. It doesn't help his nerves at all that Jin and Jungkook were in the absolute trenches fighting for their breath on the side, with tears in their eyes, doubled over in laughter.

"Would you like to step outside the elevator?" you ask him coldly and he flinches, shrivelling smaller.

"No," he audibly squeaks and Jungkook is rolling on the floor.

"Please, step outside the elevator so we could get started," you order and he waddles away from the safety of the metal box.

"I'm sure this year will be uh...more peaceful," Hoseok interjects, the mediator of all things.

"You mean, we don't want anyone here managing to break my glasses, burning my hand by dumping hot coffee all over it and then. Losing. My. Passport."

Namjoon now shrunken down to 2cm in size was counting the threads in the carpet. 2803, he counts, 2804.

Hoseok tosses an uneasy side glance to a remaining ectoplasm of his friend spinning somewhere around the globe.

"Yeah."

"Of course," you smile and Namjoon nearly begins to cry from fear. It's so terrifying and murderous that he doesn't even know how to breathe. "That would be greatly preferable. God knows what would someone do," your eyes glint as you nail the final coffin in Namjoon's grave. "If subjected to it again."

YOONGI: The day is busy and your hands are shaking and everything's so hectic that when you bring the many folders of who should be wearing what on which day of the show, they fall from your hands and spill all across the floor page by one page. Which is not that bad but then-

A laugh.

A highly amused laugh.

Sort of noiseless and accompanied by many shoulder wags.

You turn to glance back, counting the years that will be spent in a jail cell, and find Min Yoongi having eyes the size of saucers even though the rest of the face is unreadable.

And instead of apologizing or even helping he, in an oddly pitched tone, only responds with:

"Funny."

Then folds in on himself and mutters something that vaguely sounds like a:

"You fucking idiot."

You can't kill him you think. It'll call for execution at the very least. So you politely and subtly flip him the bird and walk away.

An entire year is lived without this heinous man's presence and now he's in front of you once more and he's laughing. Every time his gaze lands on you he begins to smile.

Because your very existence must be a joke to him so once again you politely flip him the bird and exit the room.

"My dude, stop laughing at the girl you're crushing on!" Hoseok threatens into his ears and while still battling the smile, Yoongi hisses back.

"I'm not laughing at her! I can't stop smiling whenever I see her face. I'm telling you she's a witch."

"The only thing magical is the speed with which you get a boner for her," Namjoon adds to the flame with the most neutral, UN-ready expression faced towards the camera.

"You think she'll ever talk to me?" he asks, wilting in discontent.

"Nah she hates you."

"Spit in your drink is what she'll do."

Hoseok and Namjoon look rather proud of themselves.

It's shortly before going on stage that Yoongi, adrenaline-fueled, bumps you with his hip and says with a wink.

"Wish me luck, our brave stylist."

"Break a leg," monotonously, you reply.

He sweats.

"Like for good luck you mean."

"Yeah," you narrow your eyes. "That's what I mean."

He swallows in fright and scurries away as fast as he's capable.

"I'm telling you she's a witch!" he yells in pain while being carded to an ambulance.

"Yoongi, you slipped because the stage was wet and twisted an ankle," Namjoon reiterates, tired, struggling, contemplating whether or not he should sit himself into this very ambulance.

"No, she definitely cursed me!" he argues.

"Why would you call a girl you like a witch?" Taehyung innocently wonders and Yoongi sighs with all the world's age.

"Isn't all love witchcraft?"

JIN: "I'm not going there alone."

"You're thirty! You're an adult, thirty years old male!"

"So, either you hold my hand as I go or I'm not going there at all."

"You're about to enlist!"

"Trust me, I'd much rather enlist right fucking now than go to," he shudders. "Her."

Namjoon sighs.

"I'm not holding your hand to go to the accounting."

Jin turns, hopeful, but everyone is conveniently averting their eyes. Taehyung has pressed his face against the window. Jimin was staring at the ceiling whilst Jungkook seemed to have resigned from his body entirely.

"Cowards, the lot of you."

Jin knows for 100% that the hallway to Hell itself, as he calls it, is haunted. He can see his breath in the air, and hear the laments of the dead. It's here that all souls come to die.

He chickens out several times but knows this is urgent and so swallowing his own skin, he timidly knocks on the door.

"Come in," comes the omnipresent voice and he shivers.

"Mr Kim Seokjin," you greet him cooly bringing down a stamp like an axe upon a head.

Playing with his fingers, he squeaks:

"Want to hear a joke?"

"No."

He swallows.

"I forgot it anyway."

"How clever of you."

There's a deep, pregnant pause in which he calculates the possibility of jumping out the window and surviving.

0. Chances are 0.

"We uh...need more...money for...the sunglasses...I uh...broke some."

"Is that all?"

"ʸᵉˢ."

"I'll arrange it."

"ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ."

"Are you bowing?"

"ᴺᵒ, ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶦˢ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ"

"Just go."

He pushes the door open with his ass and takes off running.

HOSEOK: "It's just one woman. Just go talk to her if you find her interesting."

"She'll eat me!"

"She won't eat you!"

Another man approaches. You assess him like a Black Widow might assess a male too brave.

"Hello, I was admiring you from the distance and may I just say, I'll do anything to buy you a drink."

"Anything?" you ask with a smile and being a sleazy male he falls head first into a trap.

"Yes, anything," he nods, eagerly thinking you were an easy lay.

"Rip your liver out" you order that smile staying intact.

"What?" he blanches, laughing awkwardly.

"You said you'll do anything. So rip your liver out."

"Why would you need my liver?" the man asks, sweat rolling down his neck as he sees your aura of terror grow bolder, enveloping him whole.

"I'll eat it," your smile widens. "Why else?"

The man, just having promised his all, takes over the hills and you tut after him.

"Love is so damn fickle."

Yoongi, dragged along for the emotional support, pulls a breath through his teeth.

"So, she could eat you. Hoseok, how can a scaredy cat such as yourself like such terrifying women?"

"I don't know, just keep covering me! Though there's not a lot of you to cover."

Yoongi grimaces and cruelly leaves his friend to defend himself on his own in the wilderness. As you glance at the sound of someone whimpering you stumble upon a beautiful man whose eyes tell he was definitely shitting himself.

"Hello?" you wave at him and he screeches in fright.

JIMIN: "He's lost his mind," Jin gasps behind the couch.

"He's suicidal," Namjoon assesses also behind the couch.

"He's an idiot," Taehyung, the best friend, concluded calmly whilst scrolling through the phone.

Jimin with the determination of a wide-eyed duckling and romance of a prince, approaches the working, hunched figure, sweating and terrified but otherwise optimistic.

Heavy metal music streams in his direction but he has his eyes set.

He taps on her shoulder, smiles and then -

Deflates.

Says nothing.

Sweats.

In silence.

"There was a sign," you growl at him pointing the paintbrush at the stand nearby.

STAY AWAY! DO NOT COME CLOSER! LEAVE!

Jimin gathering all his wits, replies brightly:

"I can't read!"

"Yeah, I figured."

He swallows. You should not be this scary. But you are.

"I just wanted to ask maybe you need help? You've been working on our MV mural for a long time."

"I don't need your help."

"But do you want it?"

Your eyes narrow.

"Also no. Leave."

Head hung low he toddles away.

It's night already when Jimin leaves the studio and there's only one light streaming in the entire building - the projector illuminating the mural.

"Please, go home, you've been working for like 24 hours," he pipes up gently, partially tucking himself away in the dark.

"I can't," you reply, tired and worn out. "If I don't finish this today, I'll be a disappointment."

That feeling Jimin knew like no one else.

"Your health should be the first priority. Go rest. You won't be a disappointment, I promise."

The paintbrush clatters on the ground. Your hands are too tired to hold it anymore.

"Guess so," resignedly, you sigh. Pulling yourself up with great difficulty, you cast the partially hidden man a harmless glare. "Do you have to be so kind? You make me feel like an asshole."

"You're a bit of an asshole," Jimin agrees, heart beating a thousand beats per nanosecond. "But I think you do it to push people away. And you push people away because you can get hurt easily. And you get hurt easily because you have a big heart. And that's the best quality one can have. So in the end you're a good person."

"Still, you're scared of me," you point out at his hands clutching the door like a lifeline.

"A little bit," he chuckles self-consciously. "But I'll get over it, don't worry."

TAEHYUNG: "Look, __________, there's BT-oh not again!"

You sit stony-faced staring down that annoying, chiselled figure once more.

"This is ridiculous! You can't glare at him every time you meet in these things!"

Sinking your nails into the countertop of the bar shoved to the side, you growl back, doubling down on the ired grimace.

"Fucking watch me! I'm not letting some rich asshole intimidate me!"

"Maybe he just has an RBF? One would think, you'd know, given how you have one as well."

"No, no, he's definitely mocking me. I don't care how handsome he is I'll tear this guy a new one if he even dares-"

"You've got anger issues up the kazoo," your friend sighs, resigned on the matter. "Most girls would be lucky to have Kim Taehyung staring at them."

"The only way to stare at me is in awe! And he's not doing that!"

"Not to mention the ego," your friend rolls her eyes, faintly wondering why the rest of the BTS was so avidly arguing.

"Taehyung! Is your head made of spinach?! She's not going to marry you because you keep staring at her!"

Without changing a single muscle of his expression, he keeps staring, sending you his thoughts across the audience. Your hand grabs the bottle and he can't discern whether you want to drink it or fling it at his head.

"She might," he argues back. "I'm Kim Taehyung. Observe the awe in my face."

The face in question couldn't be more neutral if he was gambling his entire life away in a poker.

"Weren't you afraid of her?" Yoongi inquires conversationally.

"That only makes me horny," he tosses out casually and Namjoon scowls in disgust.

"Jesus, just choke already."

JUNGKOOK: "Stop sitting so menacingly!"

"Straighten your spine!"

"Start smiling! Jesus, could you please smile for once!"

Their hazing makes your expression sour even more and the awkwardly lingering masked guy seems to physically wilt away.

Jin and Namjoon who walk into the gymnasium behind Jungkook watch the situation almost bored.

"Oh, look there's that emo coordinator he's crushing on," Jin points out.

"Yeah, they're cute. If he ever gets the balls to talk to her or at least breathe at her, they can hop around like two crows," Namjoon admits.

"That depends how much play Jungkook can pull off."

"So zero?" Namjoon arches an eyebrow and they leave the youngest one to fend for himself. At last, Jungkook springs when your friends finally leave and he's not stared at by the other four girls like some sort of biological experiment.

He opens his mouth.

"You look like a steamed bun."

Then nods, quickly turns around and walks into a wall.

"Yeah, that ship won't sail anytime soon," Jin laments getting ready for practice.

After several more run-ins and mishaps, everyone is allowed to go home as you leave you cross glances with Jungkook who appears to...vibrate.

"You did well," you praise, tossing a bag over your shoulder and he breathes a near inaudible "thanks". The rest of them observe the interaction with some small amount of pride. Just look at him go!

"She said I did well!" he whispers to Jimin.

"Congratulations. Did you just cream your pants because of fear or joy?" he asks his friend shamelessly but Jungkook is too far out of it to care.

"Dunno. Don't care actually."

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astyrial · 7 months

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beekeeper of my heart spencer reid x fem!reader (meeting) synopsis: spencer makes a visit to an expert word count: 1.2k warnings: cussing masterlist | requests are open

"and what might you be doing here, agent... reid?"

spencer slowly crosses his arms in front of his chest, as if he's attempting to seem more intimidating than he ever was. he purses his lips as his eyes peer around the front porch of your house, "i'm here regarding information about bees and their poison. i read up on the topic, but my boss wanted me to meet someone who knows more about it. there was a murder just outside of town and the deciding factor was bee venom."

you raise your eyebrows, realizing that words spread quickly in a small town. "ahh, so you've been told of my little bee farm," a soft smile spreads across your face, your shoulder resting against the doorframe.

"yes, the chief says he occasionally buys honey down here. so, the main component of venom responsible for pain in vertebrates is a toxin called melittin," spencer starts explaining what information he needed to know, starting off with facts that he already knows.

a little part of you is impressed of his knowledge of bees. while the other half of you wonders what he possibly needs to know that he couldn't research on the internet. you bite your lip, widening your eyes a little as you wait for the agent to give you some sort of explanation.

spencer uncrosses his arms, instead putting his hands on his hips, "well, there seems to be a therapy called apitherapy. bee venom is used to help with arthritis and such, but it isn't widespread. so, the reason i came here was to ask if you know anything more about it."

"about bee venom therapy? i mean, i know that people use honey for a lot of health purposes. but not venom. especially because it can cause anaphylaxis and different allergic reactions. shoot that up in someone's veins and it could go terrible..." you shake your head, shrugging your shoulders, unsure how you could help the agent at all.

he looks down for a second, scrunching up his face a little. that was certainly not the answer he was looking for. you sigh, remembering a conversation you had with a fellow beekeeper who lived a town over, "i do remember talking to another beekeeper who lives about fifteen minutes out? why don't you come in from the heat and i can explain the rest," you stand back, ushering him in.

"that's only if you want to of course, we can stand outside too," you offer, realizing that you have an arsenal of bees and could very well be a suspect of what seems to be a rather heinous crime.

spencer nods, taking a couple steps into your front room. it's filled with greenery and flowers, including a rug that is in the shape of a leaf. it's bright and clearly an homage to your love of nature and bees. he turns around to see you shutting the screen door, letting the air in.

"so, you can have a seat if you like," you sit down yourself, not evening waiting for him to decide to start talking, "his name was john, uh no, his name was steve johnson. he loved bees, has millions of them probably. it's easy to get different species and stuff over the internet. well, he reached out to me to have my buckfast bees."

he ends up sitting down, leaning forward to hear more about these 'buckfast' bees. it's definitely for his thirst for knowledge, and not the sweet aroma that settles around you. it oddly resembles that of honey.

"well it doesn't have a deadlier sting, but it's a bit more aggressive. and i'm curious, naturally, so i ask why he would want my buckfast bees. i only have one colony and would rather not trade them. he mentions that sometimes he gets bears, total lie by the way," you laugh, the thought of bears where you live? ridiculous.

sure you had a couple of bear sightings, but none ever got close to your farm. and when you did speak to steve before, he had always agreed with you. "we both rarely get bears by our colonies. well, he wanted them to defend the rest of the colonies. after i said no, he said, quote, 'fuck you, i have an africanized colony in line anyway'. so i hung up."

spencer raises his eyebrows for a second, his eyes wide in wondering what any of this could mean. he waits for a second, trying to think of what he could say in response to your comments.

"africanized bees are aggressive, they send signals so more than one sting. sometimes they're even called killer bees. most people don't have them in the united states. so, hopefully that helps you. not saying steve did it, but he's the first person that came to mind..." you finish, wearily giving him a smile.

he returns a smile in your direction, scratching the back of his neck, "yes thank you for all of your help. i'll have my team look into it, in the meantime, for curiosity's sake. could you show me your beehives? we don't have many cases that include things like this."

you nod happily, given the chance to show anyone your beehives, you take it. especially when the person asking isn't from your hometown and is interesting.

"absolutely agent reid, if you follow me out my back door i can give you a look see," you usher him over, walking out of the room and unlocking the back door. before the two of you leave the house, spencer quickly says something.

"spencer, you can call me spencer. i get called agent and doctor way too much," he waves his hand while following you out the back door. much to his surprise you agree with him, mentioning your phd in sciences regarding bees and wasps, "oh so you're a doctor then?"

you shrug, "a doctor feels as though i'm in medical work, but it's still a title i hold. now, doctor spencer, here are my bees."

in front of the two of you sits a row of hives. some are farther away than others, based on species of honey bees. some are flying around the area and landing on flowers that are growing wildly. you look back at a twinge of wonder on spencer's face. it's small but with the sunset's hues it's quite memorable.

"it's amazing, i'm not one for being near insects but it really is amazing to see. thank you," spencer turns around to look at you as well, his eyes resting comfortably on yours.

despite having only met you for fifteen minutes maybe, spencer can't help but feel as if he's known you forever. your voice and the way it carries through the air to feels all too familiar for a woman he's just met. especially over a mysterious case that the bau wouldn't normally pick up.

"it was nice to meet you, granted the circumstances of course, doctor y/n," spencer gives you a sweet smile, unsure of what to say next.

of course he'd like to say something suave. something to convince you to visit him in virginia. “thanks doctor spencer. if you ever wanna extract some honey with me, let me know. i have an extra beekeeper suit.”

and just maybe he didn’t need to be suave, he just needed to be a little sweet.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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sagaverse · 7 months

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Here to make an official announcement that, yes, SagaVerse is canceled, finished, nada.

Hi there peeps and readers that followed through the funky saga of this multiverse until now, not Rev or Levi this time as they are both busy. Gremlin tophat to serve you on a last post of announcement as you'll have seen in red above. SagaVerse is officially canceled. There are many reasons for this, but the main one is that Revolvius has finally completely turned the page on the fandom, while Undertale in itself had been a joy and great inspiration, the fandom was a different story, I won't lie I had expected the series to be closed earlier before now, for both his own good and interest, but never too late I guess.

Some asked about what would become of the cast, like the sweet Nocturne boi. Unfortunately, their stories will remain in the dark, unless we decide to post the drafts of their backstories, which is less than likely.

You are free to use the characters for your creativity, draw them if you want, write about them, craft them, anything your mind may thrive for as long as it is not something heinous and goes under the moral of good sense, with credits of course even if the saga is no more.

The blog won't be touched, though do not expect any sort of update from it, aside from if we decide to delete this blog for reasons of our own.

As for the members of the Team, you can always support us individually :

@revolvius has commissions open and won't stop to art his way in life, now more interested in RainWold with his other blog named @rw-repurposed

@leonightwater25 has a comic of their own named Not a Tale (linked to the prologue page), and they also have their commissions open as well, have a look, they do wonderful work ;)

@levi-weaver and @xtrastuff both are writers with their own worlds and creations, you can find Xtra on Ao3, Levy has college and can unfortunately not focus much on that however

@unclespr also has his own world and creations, you can look at his Discord server (the link will expire in a week) to see it

As for @theia-diki (tophat gremlin), I have commissions open, and occasionally post on media, though rare now

Thank you all for your support, and we hope you all get to find your passion and go through life with it ^^

Stay determined, and don't be afraid to change path.

As a last, have this Nocturne I had done some time ago haha

The sweetest baby for last :3

#I never know what to put as tag so let me just ponder over this-#sagaverse #SagaEnd #The last spotlight #Nocturne #Baby boi #stay determined #undertale #undertale oc #undertale art #undertaleau #undertale au #take care <3

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fluffykitty149 · 8 months

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Shout out to @itskimchifriedrice for surviving a car accident and covid. A fic for your trying times.

Damian never really liked looking in the mirror. Her mother used to say that she’d grow up to be as handsome as her father. If only that weren’t the case. She felt trapped. She tried focusing on the benefits, being perceived as a man, it brought her some power over others. She pitied her cousin who was limited to her sparring partner/rival.

“Would you rather been born a boy?” Damian asked one day after a spar. It had ended on a good note, Damian having won again. But grandfather wasn’t there to issue any punishments.

Mara looks at her cousin confused, brows furrowed. “Would you have preferred to be a girl?” She asks in rebuttal.

Despite being so young Damian schools her features as stoic. “No.” She answers, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue, “but I won’t deny that Grandfather has some issues with gender.”

Mara sneers “So you admit you only have a claim to the throne because of your gender.”

“If that were true your father would have been named successor.” Damian bites back angrily. “My mother may not have an official chance at the throne but she was titled the main heiress as a result of her capabilities.”

In a fit of rage, Mara attempts to attack Damian but she easily deflects the strikes and pins her to the ground. “Don’t forget,” Damian says panting “You have yet to ever beat me in a sparring match,”

“Better to be wise than to be a brute.” Mara spits back.

Damian strikes her shoulder and gets up. “I also have higher test scores than you.” she retorts rather proudly.

“Then what was the point of this!?” Mara screams in rage.

Damian tenses and it’s enough for Mara to shove her off. Exhaling, Damian responds “I don’t see why one’s gender should hold so much value.”

Mara rolls her shoulders “Grandfather is centuries old. Figures he’d still have some old traditions weighing him down. If you truly care on this matter then change the league when you inherit it” she responds leaving in a huff.

Damian stands in thought and leaves the room after that.

***

Damian idolized her mother. She was everything she wanted to be. Ruthless, cunning, beautiful. The last one felt so far out of reach. On nights when both Talia and Damian were free and neither were too tired they would sit together eating sweets and drinking tea, sharing their days together. It was this particular night when Damian asked “Mother, would you resent me if I was a girl?”

Talia looked at Damian in surprise. “Of course not my love, who taught you such nonsense?” She asks examining Damian’s face.

Damian looks away embarrassed, “What if, what if I wanted to be a girl? Would you resent me then?”

Talia almost appears shocked but she schools her features. “How do you feel being perceived as a boy?” she asks curiously.

Damian shrugs, “I understand it has its benefits. I can take claim to the Leauge because of it. But the thought of growing into a man’s body, it’s… unsettling.” The burden Damian has been feeling all her life has finally been released but now she was terrified of the results.

“I see,” Talia remains stoic drinking her tea. “How much longer would you be willing to endure it, my love?”

Damian looks up in confusion “As long as needed.” she says quickly. “Why?”

Talia thrums against the glass of her tiny cup. “I can make no promises on your current predicament, but if you are able to hold out long enough to hone your talents, I don’t see why you couldn’t challenge your grandfather for the throne.”

Damian gasps in shock. To go against her grandfather would be a most heinous crime, but if it was her ticket to freedom… “very well. I understand.” Damian nods.

Talia “Then it’s settled.” she says taking a final drink of her tea. “Best of luck habibti.”

It had only been moments since the revelation and her mother was already using the proper terms for a girl. A small smile graced Damian’s lips as she finished her tea.

#damian wayne #talia al ghul #mara al ghul #ras al ghul #trans fem damian wayne

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 2 years

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So I was complaining to a friend about how whenever a character is being tortured for information they always just stoically take the pain usually with an internal monologue panicking over how they want the pain to stop but can't reveal whatever- my question why don't they ever just lie? So

Fic where one of the kids gets grabbed and the henches are trying to beat Batmans identity out of them, instead of stoically enduring and then passing out or whatever they take a couple punches and then answer.

My friend suggested just the best possible option for the fake answer

Lex Luthor

(all the plausibility of more money then god and a tech company none of the cognitive dissonance of playboy brucie)

Okay that fic idea sounds amazing. It would be so perfect. Because people might actually stop and think about it for a second. And, yeah, you know what, that kinda makes sense when you think about it. And of course if/when Lex tries to refute it there’s nothing he can say that works.

“Bruce Wayne is Batman.” Uh-huh. And the moon is made of Gouda.

“I’m actually a supervillain determined to rid the world of Superman.” Well duh. Nice to see you have a conscience after all though.

The prevailing theory becomes that Luthor feels guilt over such and such heinous act that can’t actually be traced back to him but everyone Knows™️, okay? (Bonus points if said heinous act was one of the rare instances where he wasn’t involved in any way, shape, or form but he can’t refute that either because his alibi is being somewhere far away doing something even worse)

#batman #bruce wayne #lex luthor #lex luthor is batman #do you know how many ‘so and so is Batman’ tags I have now #batkids

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brutalmasks · 29 days

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How does one attract Bunny Mask's attention (be it good or bad?) Is she inclined to help people as much as she is to hurt criminals?

good evening, @oculusxcaro! it's always nice to see you on my dash / notifs (: your questions are just the BEST, honestly! i'm really glad you asked because this gives me a chance to talk about the snitch, which is another being in the same universe that bunny mask is a part of. the snitch is very appropriately named, as essentially what this spirit has taken charge of is providing both humans, and sometimes even other deities with all of the darkest secrets that may lie within another person. they do this telepathically through whispers in a person's head whenever he, quote unquote, ' connects with someone. ' although it is usually crime-related, if the person in question that the snitch is talking about has not committed any crimes, then this darkest secret would probably manifest as the worst thing they've ever done. however... the snitch also has made a map of sorts related to these people's secrets and since bunny mask has been connected to that deity, she can easily access this map and find out who has committed illicit acts, such as murder or kidnapping. thus, this is primarily how she targets the people she kills for purposes of avenging someone / a creature, or potentially saving them from being hurt.

she also does a good deal of her own investigating, however, and has learned how to proficiently tail someone + gain information about them ( she likes to listen to police radio sometimes, as well as go to bars that are notoriously frequented by criminals, as well as contact information brokers if she just manages to see suspicious activity while she's out ) while walking the earth once more. so whenever she is stuck without any people to avenge / punish those who are about to hurt someone... bunny mask will simply only use her own wit and skills to find out whether this person has truly committed a heinous act or is about to. but anyhow, whenever it comes to whether bunny mask is inclined to help people as much as hurt criminals: the answer is a resounding yes. she is constantly striving to try to help humanity through both bigger and smaller ways, whether that be helping to get a person out of a dangerous situation even regarding something like nature ( which can often not be controlled. think of like an extreme snowstorm, a rockslide, a fire starting in a forest that has people nearby, etc. ) and helping to comfort someone who seems to be on their last leg in regards to life.

i believe that, at her core, bunny mask often has good intentions and has a good heart as well. but she is also absolutely unforgiving and the way in which she punishes people whenever it comes to those have willingly committed crimes can sometimes be terrifying. what i am trying to say is, she is as much of a protector as she is an enemy to criminals. that is actually one reason behind why she does what she does: to defend the goodness in this world from harm and give people hope that someone is looking after them. but of course, this also applies to animals, too.

#asks.#bunny mask is really just a big ol' teddy bear whenever it comes down to it... a teddy bear with claws haha #though if you are a criminal that doesn't really apply unfortunately and you are on bunny's hit-list... sorry #summary: bunny mask both craves violence and loves humanity with such ferocity. thank you for coming to my tedtalk

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danpuff-ao3 · 1 year

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Heroes, Villains, and Blorbos

Being a fan of both Snape and the Marauders is fun, in that -- okay that's a lie, it's not fun really. So few people I know actually like both sides. Most people I know pick a side and stick with it.

Why is that? I figure it's one, or both, of two things. One: each side attracts a certain sort of person that will naturally disdain the other side. Two: by loving one, you must hate their enemies.

Love makes us blind, though, doesn't it? We defend our faves to the bitter end. That's a bit harder to manage when what I love about all of these characters are...well...their faults.

The Marauders

Their story is quite admirable, isn't it? It's fun! Four very close, loyal friends. Friends who go to great lengths for one another, and go on grand adventures together.

At the helm: two privileged boys. James and Sirius were born with pure blood and wealth. James, the only son of two older parents. Sirius, the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Both handsome and charming. Both big, bold personalities.

Then Remus, of course. Their quiet, patient, studious housemate turned friend. And Peter, accused of gravitating to those bigger and stronger than himself. But that's a bit unfair, I think. Peter had something to offer; something that drew him to, and kept him with the Marauders.

You have the full range in the Marauders. The "too cool for school" Sirius. James, the Quidditch star (and eventual Head Boy!) Remus the responsible prefect. Peter, the sweetheart (he did seem rather sweet in those earlier days.)

More than that: they were highly intelligent and skilled. They deduced Remus' secret. They sneaked out and explored. They created the Marauder's Map! Not only a feat of magic, but requiring knowledge of cartography and knowledge of the grounds! They cared for their friend enough to become Animagi -- advanced magic they were self-taught in and accomplished without anyone being the wiser for it!

Competency is sexy, okay? Of course people are drawn to the Marauders!

There is so much good in them. Their capacity for friendship and loyalty. How driven they are by their values. All they worked for just to help Remus through full moons. James opening his home to Sirius when he needed to escape his family. They kept each other's secrets. They relied on one another.

It was this sense of goodness, I think, that drove them to such heinous acts. It's the only thing that makes sense to me.

Sirius, disillusioned by his family, standing against all they stood for. James, of the Main Character Syndrome, and a desire to play hero. They were all sorted into Gryffindor, sharing values of bravery and chivalry. They would go on to join the Order of the Phoenix and fight in the war effort right after graduating. Setting aside Peter (with his unknown background and motivations; not knowing when or why he turned on his friends), they all had a sense of their morals and a willingness to abide by them. They all had a sense of right and wrong.

But think: for all of their goodness, they were troublemakers and lawbreakers. They were above the rules. Due to ego and entitlement in some ways (especially for our privileged James and Sirius), but also a sense of righteousness. They were young boys chasing adventure and playing hero. They were unregistered Animagi, remember: but for a good cause!

They were also bullies.

For a good cause, of course! Snievellus deserved it. A strange, intense boy. A Slytherin. For knowing more curses in his first year than most seventh years. (For knowing; not using.) For existing.

"They were just kids"; it's not an excuse, but a place to begin to understand. They were young. They were ignorant and immature. People also fear what they don't understand. This is why people who are "different" are so often "othered" and mistreated.

A hostile first interaction, on all sides, and they painted Severus as a "villain." And it's up to heroes to bring down villains, isn't it?

One hostile, first meeting and James tried to trip Severus. One interaction and he was already resorting to physical harm. And the trend would continue. Public humiliation, sexual assault, and a near death experience. Four wizards routinely targeting and tormenting one.

They were arrogant, cruel, and judgmental (primarily James and Sirius), or passive and enabling (more Remus and Peter.)

Their behavior was reprehensible and inexcusable.

The Half-Blood Prince

Of course, Severus Snape was no angel himself.

Like the Marauders, Severus was intelligent, skilled, and accomplished. Unlike them, Severus wasn't privileged. He was a half-blood. He was raised in poverty; raised in neglect and abuse. He wasn't blessed with good looks or charm. He was bitter, odd, obsessive.

He was a wizard trapped in a dingy, Muggle town, raised by a magic-hating Muggle of a father. Petunia called him "that awful Snape boy."

Lily was the first spot of brightness in his life. His first connection to magic, and kindness. When it was time for them to attend Hogwarts, life was meant to improve. He was going to be with Lily; he was going to escape.

Instead Severus walked out of one trauma, and right into another.

Separated from his best friend. Targeted from day one. Overlooked in favor for his more likeable and attractive peers. He was brilliant, and dedicated, and ambitious. He worked hard. He did great things. He improved potions and invented spells.

Control and power would appeal to people like Severus. People who have never had either. People who have been crushed beneath the boots of people in control, and in power.

When he nearly walked into his death, there was no real consequences for his attackers. And he was forced into silence.

Of course Severus was bitter. And of course he was tempted.

Severus went down the wrong path. And he befriended the wrong people. He invented a heinous curse. He used a slur against his best friend. There is no excuse for Severus. No reason to forgive his sins. But we can understand them, can't we? We can understand what might drive a person to such extremes, such horrors.

Changed Men

These were young people growing up in the time of war. And the moment they were able, they chose their sides.

Peter is the most interesting case to explore. What drove him to betraying his friends? When did he decide this? Was he always a rat? Or did time in his friends' shadows twist him? Was it a big event that turned him?

Sirius would lose his best friend and be falsely imprisoned. He managed to escape the inescapable Azkaban, driven by the need to protect Harry. He opened his home to the Order. He was open to doing more; he felt compelled to offer more than anyone would take. Sirius was troubled, of course, traumatized not only by loss of loved ones, but the loss of his freedom. Exposed to Dementors for years and years. He never had the chance to really grow up. But he remained strong, and dedicated. He remained clever, and strong, and willing to fight.

Remus faced many hardships through his life. He lost all of his friends in one fell swoop. The love and support he'd been blessed with, now gone. Trudging through life in a world that judged and feared him. He kept going with grace and compassion, in spite of all he endured. He was patient and wise. He was a supportive teacher. He was also careless, and put many lives at risk by not taking his potion. He nearly abandoned his wife and unborn child. Remus was a great, but imperfect man.

James learned and grew bit by bit. He matured. He put in the effort to be a better person. He saved Severus' life. He pranked and bullied less often. He became Head Boy. He saw enough growth to earn that title, despite his troubled past, and despite not making prefect. He saw enough growth that Lily saw him in a new light. And at the tender age of twenty-one he lost his life to protect his wife and son.

Severus had the biggest task of all. He (likely) committed atrocities as a Death Eater. But when he realized how wrong he had been, he was strong enough to change. Too few people own up to their mistakes and are willing to change. Severus had to face how truly horrendous his choices had been. He had to change his whole belief system. And, again, so young, he put his life at risk by entering Dumbledore's service and turning spy on Voldemort. He remained in a job he hated for years and years. And when Voldemort returned, Severus returned to his terrible duty. Was he a nice man? No. But he was brave. He was strong. He worked hard to atone for his mistakes. He was forever haunted by the horrors of his life. And he died, unappreciated and unrecognized for all he had done.

None of them were perfect. All of them had potential.

So much of their promise died in the war. They were all so damn young, and so deeply impacted. They all made grave mistakes. They all achieved great feats.

But what draws me to them all above all else is the horrible humanity of them. All of their virtues, and especially all of their flaws.

Additional Reading

Flaws in Fiction: Character Edition

Flaws in Fiction: Appearance Edition

The Astrology of James Potter

The Astrology of Sirius Black

The Astrology of Remus Lupin

The Astrology of Peter Pettigrew

The Astrology of Severus Snape

#danpuff stuff #pro snape #pro marauders #flawed characters

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yoyo-inspace · 2 years

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So here’s the thing.

The loudest fan discourse regularly exhausts me, but something I’ve found very interesting to see over various social media platforms is that the most vocal supporters of each “team” seem to think that the show is favouring the other side. Plenty of self-proclaimed Team Green who calls the show pro-Black, talking about how they’re making Rhaenyra way too sympathetic, and plenty of Team Black who do the same but for Alicent. I’ve also seen them talk about how the show chooses not to have the characters do certain things that were in the book and they’re usually disappointed their faves (or the ones they hate) are getting painted in a more sympathetic (or less sympathetic) light. I find that thoroughly fascinating, and at the same time I can’t help but ask myself - wasn’t this the point?

HOTD is an adaption. However, it is slightly unique as an adaption in that it is based on an in-universe history accounts. The show-creators’ job is not just to go through the text as it is and pick which account is the most likely and then adapt that - which is what I feel that certain fans have expected them to do. It is to see past that. They’ve said it in several interviews, but their mission is to look at this “historical” text and not only say “there are unreliable narrators with stories that contradict” but also to see it for what it is: history written by men - and by victors, by clergy, by gossipers, by people in power, etc. And to look at the text through that lens and ask themselves: who could the real people behind these descriptions have been? What kind of person could this man or woman actually have been to make historians describe them like this? Was it an exaggeration? Was it a simplification? Was someone trying to villainize or sanatize or make a cautionary tale? Were they trying to set an example? Was it a straight up lie? Was it true but twisted?

Anyone who goes at the text with that kind of analysis is of course going to come away with different interpretations. That’s part of the game. But that’s true for real life as well. We can look at the figures of our history and try to imagine who they were as people. We can get clues through letters and contemporary accounts. But we can never know.

I think that’s what’s caused some book fans to be unhappy. They had their own interpretation of who the characters behind the historical accounts were. And sometimes those characters that they imagined were exactly like the accounts described. They picked an account and deemed that to be the most trustworthy and now they’re upset that the characters they’ve imagined are not the ones being portrayed on screen. However, I don’t see that as a falling with the show. I see it as one of its greatest strengths. I’m not saying it’s above criticism, even criticism of adaptational choices. But I think some of the criticism that is presented as objective, in a way, is instead highly subjective and not necessarily what would have made the best television.

The thing is, I see a lot of people saying that the characters aren’t grey enough. Idk if it’s just me, but I think we’re still stuck in this moralistic thinking when we talk about characters being “grey”, even as it tries to put shades into black and white. What I’m seeing is a tv show that portrays people. And they’re portraying people very well. People who do good things, who love each other, and those people being the same people who also commit heinous acts and hurt each other terribly. I see a show that is making a very good attempt at explaining why people in these situations would act like this - especially women. “I want both sides to be portrayed as equally wrong” - but even in the source material there were glimpses of another story behind. I’m just surprised that so few people who talk so loudly seem to ask themselves “what could have been the purpose of portraying this woman in history as power hungry” and just decided to go with it instead. Not because there haven’t been power-hungry women in history- there definitely has - but because the history writing is specifically what this show wants to examine. Of course they’re going to problematize it. The show has taken that story and made it fundamentally about gender and power structures and generational trauma. If your “grey characters” stop being grey to you the moment they do an act that you see as good or an act you see as bad and that completely flips the switch for you, then we have very different definitions of a so called “grey character”.

All these people (who I know are probably quite a small part of the fanbase) are so vocally upset about characters being given more sympathetic portrayals than they think they “deserve”, or characters turning out to be shittier people due to their circumstances than fans would want, that they have to set it out as their mission to try and ruin it for others who are enjoying it, and that is where I think the real shame is. I suppose I just can’t relate to that way of looking at it. Though fans rewriting the narrative of the show and the text even when it’s presented to us, I suppose is the most predictable and poetically ironic way this could all play out. Life imitates art as it imitates life, and all that.

#hotd #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #viserys targaryen #otto hightower #and others #don't mind me I'm just rambling #yoyo writes about hotd

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dangerjamtart · 2 years

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So many brambles/blackberries around at the moment...

Hopalong Charity, for those of you who are unaware, is Baron Greenback's little "white sheep" nephew, who likes to help Danger Mouse against his Uncle's heinous schemes by telling DM all about them - when he's not doing his homework, that is!

Little Hop's parents are too well-to-do and of course busy toads/frogs, therefore, I feel that the little fellow would never have gone bramble-picking. <3 Good thing Penfold fancied making some jam, a pie, scones, muffins, cakes etc and DM fancied it too considering Pen's culinary talents chiefly lie in sweets. X3

Danger Mouse, Penfold, and Hopalong Charity @ Cosgrove Hall

#danger mouse 1981 #danger mouse fanart #penfold #hopalong charity #blackberries #brambles #berry picking #danger mouse

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kob131 · 1 year

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https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/z877af/the_problems_with_gatekeeping_in_parts_of_the/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Now here’s the full deep dive.

While i am "cooking" my next batch of threads, mostly covering RWBY: Arowfell for now, i have decided to cover some issues that i am seeing rising up once again. Its not uncommon for critics of the show to be maligned in any and every way imaginable.

Gee, I wonder why critics in general within the RWBY fandom are so maligned. It couldn’t be that on top of the vast majority of them being incapable of doing bare minimum quality control, you also lie about the show and creators constantly, attack both constantly and act in heinous ways like trying to use a man’s death to emotionally manipulate his co-workers/friends/family into complying with you. Not to mention said vitrol is directed AT the creators at a much greater frequency by self proclaimed critics who themselves cannot take even the mildest form of criticism themselves.

However, from time to time a trend and an "opinion" is spread or attempted to be spread in the community, and it is my belief that such things need to receive push-back before they become common-place, otherwise it can lead to.... Poor decisions as back in the past.

What am i talking about? Well, first of all, the increasing sentiment of gatekeeping and some parts of the fandom seemingly deciding to choose who is a "fan" of the show or not. The strange purity testing that seems to be taking place on reddit of all places.

Can you really call it strange when the act of not doing it was basically seen as acceptance to act as horribly as possible to creators?

Dex, I do not care how much you preach about how innocent your fellows are. They are still the same group that has asked Miles when he’ll die so he can be replaced.

At the same time, there is the related issue of people seemingly thinking that criticizing a work means inherent dislikeability of it, which is a very wrong conclusion to draw in my opinion. And the last but not least is the somewhat strange sentiment that critics are out there to stop fans from enjoying the show.

What kind of conclusion would YOU draw at people doing nothing but bitching endlessly about the show, about things they misconstrue and about things that DIDN’T HAPPEN? All while declaring how much they hate the creators who make the damn show and demand that it be completely different huh?

Critics do not care if you watch the show

I think this claim should be addressed first despite its position in the intro. There has seemingly been an increase in a very peculiar sentiment, the sentiment that critics do what they do out of some kind of malice, or with an intent to get people to not watch the show.

I have seen RWBY ‘critics’ take sadistic glee in bullying the writers. I’ve seen outright BIGOTRY from them. You cannot argue a lack of malice.

Now, do not worry, i can tell you very simply and openyl. We critics simply do not care of what you do in your free time. Why should we? Many people here spend very little time on RWBY or being involved with the RWBY community, at least in comparison to the rest of our lives. For example, i log in multiple times a day, but rarely write unless a thread interests me, and i only have 2 days of making posts weekly. I have other things to do in my life like Cross-stitching as a hobby and of course, work.

Cool.

Now look me in the eye say that about the creators.

... That’s what I thought.

Let us be real here, what would any of us gain by getting other people to not watch or enjoy the show? Especially since it is something that we most likely would never even find out about? It just makes no sense.

Validation. Those people want validation for their feelings, to make it look like their feelings have a factual basis.

This has been especially prevalent during my critiques of RWBY: Arowfell, people were questioning if they should buy the game, or if i am doing the critique threads to stop people from playing the game. To which i could only say "I do not care" nor other critics. Of course, as long as it does not involve supporting a corporation like RT. Then we do care, but watching/enjoying RWBY content is mostly unrelated to that.

Gotta love that he brings up his Arrowfell posts, which DIRECTLY GO AFTER THE CREATORS MIND YOU, as he completely ignores an entire side to this conflict.

Look, there is no need for this self-victimization and thinking that critics are "out to get you", we aren't. Especially since many of us (With a few exceptions) still enjoy the show ourselves.

A. No, you fuckers usually target THE CREATORS. Your own fucking subreddit proves this. Type ‘miles’ into the search bar and watch as the first result is everyone bashing Miles Luna for liking tweets criticizing RT, trying to blame him even though it is VERY public knowledge that he alongside the other writers overwork themselves.

And B. I call bullshit. You bitch about so many things that have a more logical, positive interpretation so often I can only assume you WANT to see the negative. That and the times that, again, you bitch about shit that NEVER HAPPENED.

And just honestly want it to get better. Which actually leads to the next point.

I have seen your rewrites. All but one ALWAYS deviate majorly from the original to the point of barely being AU. Your definiton of ‘better’ is ‘panders to me’, which just underlines how self centered the lot of you are.

Yes, critics do enjoy the show, they express it differently, but they still do, at least most of them. Criticizing or only criticizing something does not show that a person is not enjoying the thing they are playing at hand. For example, go to any Paradox game forums and see what most often liked memes are, they are memes of either funny occurrences or some part of the game that is bad. And those are the games where people will spend 200+ hours playing, and thats the lowest estimate.

Cool. Now show me the ones where Paradox games try to get the developers fired so that they can place people more like themselves in charge.

At the end of the day there are too many ways to express enjoyment of a show or to interact with the fandom. Be it making fan-art, making AMV's, making fanfictions, rewrites. There are so many ways to engage with the fandom and a person can choose any of them. It is their choice to make and it does not indicate their enjoyment of the show.

Also gotta love that be brings up fanfics and rewrites as separate things,even though the latter would just be a more specific form of the former. Almost like he knows that rewrites aren’t made out of affection but rather entitlement and smugness.

An artist might even HATE a show that they make art for. Its possible, because artists do also get paid for their work. One cannot judge people just by their content, at least not entirely, especially with things like these.

Does the artist constantly say they are better the creators and that the creators are inferior people to them?

Not to mention. Where does this purity testing end? So if i mostly criticize a show im not a fan now? Ok. Who is next? The people who half criticize and half praise the show? The people who criticize the show at all? And before anyone accuses me of "Overstating" things, one of the main deciding factors of the critic sub forming was the belief that the main sub was hostile to critique post V6, which it kind of was and i experienced it myself first hand.

Gee, not like there was a sudden surge of people acting like amoral dipshits who constantly tried to browbeat the creators into making their OC versions of Adam canon or anything...

And again, ignoring the creator side of things really fucks you in the ass here because it sounds more like ‘So if I threaten the creators, lie about them and their work constantly and outright show that I know this is wrong when people do it to me- Am I not a fan????’

Hell, fan-artists have been harassed over the art they make. Cosplayers were harassed over characters they chose to dress as. These things can easily escalate. Purity testing is an never ending spiral of doom.

You’re right Dextixer.

... Too bad the critics started it in the first place, demanding that the creators weren’t pure enough themselves. How’s it feel getting fucked by your predecessors’ actions?

Also, i have to say that accusations of people not being "fans" of the show because they criticize it to be rude at best. Especially since i do not think any of us unlocked mind reading powers just yet.

But we do have this nifty little thing called ‘basic pattern recongition’. Like ‘people do nothing but lie and be jackasses constantly towards thing and creators -> they no like thing.’

Also, if getting slagged off is rude- what do you call suicide baiting and racism? Attempted murder?

This kind of claim is usually tied in with the claim that a critic "must not enjoy the show" and that they should "leave the fandom for something they are fan of" and the like.

These critics constantly interpret the show and people behind it as negatively as possible, beyond any form of logic or reason. All while acting miserable and pissy.

They should.

To which i can only say...

Something does not need to be good to be enjoyable.

Cool. Not why so many hate critics.

Talk about how you treat the people responsible FOR said thing.

I do not think there is more for me to say about these points. Just to clarify, i am doing this almost as an "outreach" program from the critic side, basically trying to tell you that we arent these "scary" and faceless mass of people who want to stop people from liking RWBY. What i want to show is that we are fans like any other, just making different choices in our expressions. That is it.

You know, unless you criticize them or call them out for doing far worse shit than

Or if you commit the cardinal sin of ‘Being Miles Luna’.

Then you’ll be harassed and attacked and lied about and slandered until they think they’ve broke you.

Also, do be aware that this is not calling out the entire fandom and the like, this is me pushing back against some of the narratives i have been seeing recently, nothing more, nothing less.

Did you ever stop to think that maybe the narratives exist for a REASON? That maybe your community has crossed so many lines that no one cares about your pleas of innocence?

For fucks sake, the person you are indirecty referencing (Lilith Fairen) outright said she watched RWBY SPECIFICALLY because you fuckers got so loud and obnoxious that she had to check it out. She wouldn’t have come into the fandom if you hadn’t been such massive assholes.

Your bullshit caused your own boogeyman. Twice, considering that I originally came to the RWDE tag believing I would find some decent criticisms to discuss instead of a swamp of bile and toxic puke.

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admhawthorne · 1 year

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“You want to know who I made it here?” Kiryu snorted as he leaned back in his chair and glanced amusedly around his plush fortress. “Alright, in the beginning, I was confused because it shouldn’t have worked. The goddess who sent me here told me I’d develop powers and abilities as I leveled up, but there it was. I’d somehow managed to enable God Mode through the most well-known cheat code humans from our world have ever known. That had to be some Celestial programmer’s idea of a joke, but I took it.”

Nodding for the adventurer to sit in one of the conformable seats nearby, Kiryu chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the first the Celestial Temple has sent here, and neither am I.” He poured two glasses of wine from a freshly opened bottled, set one down for the adventurer, and began to slowly sip from the other. “The first thing I did was max everything out include my gold, bought the finest armor and weapons, and purchased all the maps so I could get a feel for the world instead of rambling blindly through it. It took me a couple of days to make it to the final boss’s lair, and, when I made my way inside, I quickly realized this was going to be a cakewalk.”

The adventurer took a cautious sip of the wine, decided it was fine, and took another, larger sip. “But why?”

“Because I was severely over leveled. I was ten levels above the final boss. It would’ve taken me a decade or more to grind enough to hit that level on my own.” Kiryu finished his wine and set the glass down. “I one-shotted him, which brought the goddess immediately into the world. She praised me for my heroics, talked about her confusion in how I’d accomplished everything so quickly, and then she told me I could ask her one question before she took me from this land and into the afterlife.”

The adventurer swallowed hard, flinching at the cold look in Kiryu’s eyes. “W-what did you ask?”

“I asked her if this world would cycle through this whole huge evil destroys peaceful civilians until an adventurer comes to save them thing, which surprised her. Evidentially, it was something she’d never been asked. I assumed she’d say no because that would make sense. After all, I had just taken out the boss, so the world should be fine. Instead, she told me yes.”

“Yes?” The adventurer nearly fumbled their wine glass. “B-but why?”

Kiryu’s hands flexed in and out of fists. “Because this was her world, and she had decided it was one she would use to test the might of humans as she saw fit. Of course, I was appalled. There are real people living here; they’re not pawns in a goddess’s cruel games.”

Nodding, the adventurer seemed to be thinking very hard as they stared at Kiryu. “You’re telling the truth.”

“You must have the lie detector ability. Good. Use it as much as you want. In fact, here,” Kiryu waved his hands and several mana potions appeared, “to keep up your magic so you can continue to see I’m telling you the truth.” He stood and began to pace about his study. “I was this world’s hero, its savior, and I’d just learned that its goddess was also its biggest enemy. I couldn’t stand by and watch her keep doing this to these poor people over and over again, so I did what I thought was just.” He turned to face the adventurer. “I killed her.”

“So, you did kill a goddess!” The adventurer stood to face Kiryu, hand slowly going to their sword.

“No, I killed the final boss, and now you have to make a decision. Do you listen to the Celestial Temple and believe them when they say I’ve committed a heinous and unforgivable act, or do you side with me and remain here to continue protecting this world from the Celestial Temple’s cruel games? Which is it, Dawn. Choose wisely.”

Dawn could see Kiryu was still speaking truths, and she knew the Temple was often manipulative and self-serving. She’d spent a lot of time with the people of this world, and they were good, kind folks who didn’t deserve to be used as fodder. Sighing, she sheathed her sword.

“I can’t go back. They’ll either kill me or wipe my memory,” she stated sadly as she slid back down into her chair.

“You’re welcome to stay here. There’s plenty of room in this fortress for the both of us. Help me protect this land and its people,” Kiryu offered as he held his hand out in a gesture of welcome.

“I’m not like you, Kiryu. I’m not strong enough to hold up against a fight with gods,” she defeatedly replied.

He shook his hand at her, urging her to take it. “But you could be. Agree to stay. Pledge to protect this world, and I’ll tell you how.”

Looking up at him, she slowly took his hand and stood. “Alright. I pledge myself to protecting this world and its people until my dying breath.”

He smiled at her, his eyes dancing with excitement. “Good. Now, let me remind you of the Konami code…”

#admhawthorne #tumblr writing prompt

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tkc-info · 2 years

Text

Yrah

Day 2 - argument

@wagner-fell @littleturtle95 @chibi-tsukiko

Vexation. Anger. Rage. Fury. Ire. Wrath. Apoplexy.

They all were too inconsequential a word to encapsulate Ikaros’s present feelings. Their fingers twitched with the urge to dig into skin and pierce flesh, particularly their paternal grandparents’s.

Evil. Corrupt. Malevolent. Hateful. Villainous. Nefarious. Heinous.

Those were also too inconsequential an adjective to describe the vile creatures from which Papa got his genetic pool. It escaped Ikaros’s comprehension, how such a noble man could have such parents. Ikaros knew they wouldn’t be their magnificent self if it hadn’t been for their upbringing —Papa must transcend the limits of personhood and be a god.

“Did it go that badly?” Yitian Hao, their best friend, asked upon their arrival.

He’d been waiting at their bedroom for three hours and a half, of which the first thirty minutes were spent in conversation with Ikaros over prospective boy names (Mama was likely to birth a son, and Ikaros wanted to choose a fitting title, which would imbue confidence and strength onto his person, for their brother). After that half an hour had expired, Sylvie had peeked her head inside the room, and announced in a rather wearied tone that Papa’s genetic donors had requested their appearance in Papa’s native territory.

Ikaros had been befuddled by the notion. In the fifteen years of their existence, never had those creatures called upon those who would have otherwise been their family. They hadn’t cared when Ikaros was born, they hadn’t cared when Sylvie was born, so why start now?

Be that as it may, Papa, Sylvie and Ikaros (Mama had thought it wiser not to come herself) had gone to the house Papa had grown up in, and been subjected to those monsters’s fouled speech for a whole ninety minutes that had seemed to stretch on for eternity.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ikaros now responded to Yitian, who cringed.

“They’re pieces of shit, aren’t they?”

For lack of a better reply, Ikaros nodded. “They don’t deserve my father.”

“Of course they don’t,” Yitian moved aside and patted the space next to him, on top of the work desk “Is there something I can do to help you?”

Ikaros sat on the chair by the desk. “I shall have my revenge. I need only decipher what shape will it adopt.”

Had Yitian’s youngest sister —a humanoid disaster who responded to the name of Luoyang— been present, she would’ve doubtlessly attempted to lure Ikaros into orchestrating an overly-intricate prank. But Ikaros didn’t want that. Luoyang’s mischief was infantile, like their unfortunate ancestor’s hate, and they would never stoop so low. No. Ikaros’s revenge had to sting, it had to reaffirm their confidence in their family’s worth and it had to embody the magnificence with which they existed.

“Well,” Yitian said “I have no idea what you could do.”

Ikaros leaned back on their chair. “What would you do?”

Yitian had a rather more sophisticated sense of revenge than his sister.

“My family’s great. They would never do something like that, so I don’t know what I’d do,” he said, obliterating Ikaros’s hope “Honestly, I can only advise you to work towards knowing there’s nothing wrong with you. You have been feeling pretty shitty lately.”

Ikaros waved his concerns aside. Although a part of them knew he was right. They’d come out only a month ago, in December, and it hadn’t been their choice. They’d simply been feeling too drained, too exhausted to live a lie because the thought of harming Mama with the eradication of the idea they’d had of a daughter had been inadmissible. In the end, it had all turned out fine. Yet ‘fine’ wasn’t a qualifier Ikaros enjoyed. There were minuscule details —some physical, others, like their name, not so— that didn’t elicit any bothersome sensations, but which were only ‘fine’. In other words: merely acceptable, dull, unremarkable, un-Ikaros Everitt-Melton.

Still they waved Yitian’s concerns aside. “As of this very moment, I’m driven by pettiness and pettiness alone. I want to make them suffer, and I want to do so with class.”

Yitian sighed. “Then I can’t help you. I’ve no malice in me. Ask Marcus?”

Oh, but Marcus Zubairu —Ikaros’s wonderful infatuation— would have ideas that were far too extreme for their liking. He had had time to think about paying back hateful family members, particularly the British ones, with the exception of the man he’d been named after (who Ikaros adored); however, it would be wise if Ikaros delayed carrying out any of his prospective plans until after those evil fiends had perished. Which they wished happened soon.

“Were I to listen to Marcus,” Ikaros began “I would spend my days withering away in a void, encased in a skin of stone.”

“True.”

For the following fifteen minutes, Ikaros and Yitian uttered nothing. Ikaros tried to think of something, anything, to solve their problem, but came up empty handed time and time again. Life was playing a cruel joke on them, and kept on punishing them until they finally felt beaten up enough to give up. Momentarily.

“Let us just rest our minds. This morning I shall not be enlightened with a solution.”

Yitian smiled; he had a way of smiling that lit up his dark eyes, it was enchanting. “Want to come to Gangkou and swim at the lake?”

Ikaros frowned. “I will freeze to death.”

“Nonsense. My mum and I go for a swim every morning.”

“The both of you are insane. Unlike me.”

Yitian laughed.

Later that day, Ikaros crept back into their home fearing the hypothermia would shorten their time on earth. They were soaking wet, and for that, Yitian hadn’t been extended an invitation to accompany them to Mirror London.

Arms around their frame, Ikaros made their way to their bedroom. There, they peeled layer after layer of their self-made, presently-ruined bathing suit, entreated their personal automatons to dump their clothes into the washing machine downstairs, and changed into a suitable pair of pants and a white shirt. All dating back to 1847.

For a short span of time, they entertained the notion of staying holed up in their room, sulking, but the instant the thought crossed their mind, another thought —stronger, grander— rose to the surface of their conscience. If they had been in such a bad spell due to having met their ‘grandparents’, oughtn’t Papa feel devastated? Ikaros must go to his aid at once.

He was oftentimes found in the backyard, and this time was no different. Ikaros spied him sitting on a metal chair, staring off into space, a notebook on his lap, before he was alerted of their presence. He craned his head towards Ikaros and smiled brightly, as if disappointment hadn’t befallen on him in the form of the two people who should have loved him unconditionally only ten hours ago.

“Come sit by me,” he offered.

Ikaros complied and sat on another metal chair. They waited for Papa to start a conversation.

“Were you with Yitian?” he inquired.

“Indeed.”

His lips twitched upwards. “Did you swim in the lake?”

“I was coerced into it. Held against my will. You must sue the Wraith Emblem leader.”

Papa laughed. The sound was like Elysium’s choir; an intricately familiar song interwoven with Ikaros’s warmest remembrances. “You once called her Aunt Morgan.”

“She shan’t bear that title any longer.”

“A pity,” he stretched an arm to pat Ikaros’s hair as he subsequently murmured about the catastrophic state of their hair in his native tongue, and then called them by that name.

“Father!” they exclaimed, more than rightfully scandalised “You must cease calling me by that vocative at once.”

Papa arched a magnanimous eyebrow. “Does it bother you?”

It didn’t, and they both knew so. Nevertheless, if he continued employing that nickname, the Everitt-Meltons’s new living addition might become acquainted to —and overly fond of— it. Ikaros had to be a superior deity to their prospective brother, which would be impossible if attached to their person were some infantile juxtaposition of letters.

“Oscar will call you by whatever name you choose,” Papa told them after Ikaros had laid out their concerns.

“Oscar?”

He nodded. “Your grandmas chose it. I like it.”

“Did those villainous beings call upon you because they wanted to have some degree of participation in naming him?” Ikaros surprised theirself by blurting out —they hadn’t wanted to mention that morning’s argument, but now there was no turning back.

Papa’s shoulders sagged; his chest puffed out as he inhaled, by all means sporadically exhausted. “No. You’re very aware of what they think of Oscar. And Sylvie and your mother and you. I’m sorry that you had to witness my parents like that.”

A echo of Ikaros’s subconsciousness appreciated the acknowledgment that those harpies might have been Papa’s progenitors, but they weren’t their family. However, the rest of their being vibrated with an urge to obtain enough information to satiate a sudden, omnipotent wave of curiosity. Thus, they steered their chair to the left, with the intention to face Papa fully. “Why, then?”

“Today was the anniversary of death of my grandmother. Your great-grandmother,” Papa explained “I was supposed to inherit some stuff from her when I turned eighteen, but my parents have refused to give me that inheritance. You know they really don’t like that I’m with your mother.”

Ikaros felt theirself incline their head. Yes. They knew that Papa’s marriage to Mama had led to his disowning. This was all a tale they’d heard before. Although they hadn’t heard about any family heirlooms Papa was entitled to.

“Every year, on her death anniversary,” Papa continued “I have begged them to allow me back home so that I can get whatever is rightfully mine. Today they agreed, and it ended in the biggest argument we have ever got into. But I got my stuff.”

Ikaros contemplated the practicability of being silent for a breath of a second before voicing their main inquiry. “Was that grandmother that important? Doubtlessly, she would have shunned you for Mother.”

“She was the first one who knew about her. The first one who told me she was a great girl, and that I did right by loving her.”

“Ah,” Ikaros’s eyes widened; their mind was devoid of anything else to say with the exception of “Your grandmother encouraged you to pursue Mama’s affections?”

“Not necessarily. She wasn’t one to encourage people, she just supported me. My grandmother—” Papa put a brusque, unnatural halt to his words “To put it simply: she was amazing.”

He smiled at Ikaros. As always, there was love in the glint of his eyes —so unlikely to any of his progeny’s— and yet they also shone with an implicit request. There was a key to the unmasking of that request, and Ikaros bore the key in the shape of a query:

“How was this grandmother like?”

As if he had morphed into the child who must have once inhabited his body, Papa commenced a retelling of his grandmother’s upstanding humanity. Her name had been Hilda, though hardly anyone called her as such. Instead, they leant towards other names —diametrically opposed to her birth name— like Suzette, Blanca, Red or Aaleigha (Ikaros was sure whoever had ever uttered that name in referral to her had nurtured a deep hatred towards her). Papa had only called her ‘Granny Worth’, on account of her fondness for the word.

Granny Worth had been his main living caregiver; it had always saddened him that they saw each other nay twice every half a year. When they met, she would take him on promenades Aboveground to ‘show him the wonders of the world’.

“Speaking Sazla wasn’t permitted,” Papa said “So she labelled every ‘wonder’ as ‘worth’, when she actually wanted to say ‘yrah.’”

Yrah: beauty, artfulness, uniqueness, pride in oneself. Worth by virtue of merely existing. Yrah was a word that encompassed everything that was, that was good. It was a word —Ikaros came to realise— that stretched well beyond ‘fine’.

It was a perfect word, in fact, and one lodged in those morally-challenged chimpanzees’s mind, at that.

Ikaros wanted revenge for today. They remembered their inconformity with their hastily-chosen name, and the proverbial bulb lit up above their head. Therefore, when Papa’s soliloquy quieted down, they called, “Father?”

Papa wiped away the moist in his eyes. “Yes?”

“Can you look at me? Truly look at me?”

Looking at someone and truly looking at someone were two distinct art forms, the later of which Papa had mastered eons ago. When he truly looked at oneself, he gazed into the person within; discarding any and all inconsequential physicality along the journey to leave only the fundamentally important as a subject of study. Right now, Papa’s loving eyes were truly looking at Ikaros.

They swallowed down a traitorous lump knotting up their throat. “Can you say ‘yrah?’” their palms began sweating with the lesser feeling called nervousness.

“Yrah,” he echoed, understanding peeking through the periphery of his eyes.

The four letters rolled off his tongue majestically. It was a phonetically-pleasing word. Yrah.

“Can you call me Yrah?” Ikaros asked, also entreating theirself to try out how the word rolled off the most important tongue: their own.

Papa smiled slightly. “Yrah.”

Perfect. Excellent. Splendid. Impeccable.

Ikaros’s heart skipped a beat. They had come out as non-binary, changed their pronouns, and abandoned the name Papa and Mama bestowed upon them at birth. But they hadn’t adopted their name —a title that fit their grandeur and faultless character— until that very moment.

“Is this how you want to be called?” Papa asked.

“It is,” Yrah said, mirroring his smile “Papa, it fits. I am beautiful, a unique work of art— no, my existence is art itself. I am worth, and I care not what your parents or anyone say.”

Up to an extent, it had always been like that. People hated Yrah, hated their family. However, they refused to validate that harm. They would instead turn inwards and validate their inherent worth. It was survival, and there was so much yrah in that survival. So much so that Yrah would gladly call theirself Yrah to honour it and force everyone —including those dirty souls— to call them the most worthy creature on earth.

“My name is Yrah.”

#oc-tober 2022 #oc tober 2022 #oc tober

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demonwield · 2 years

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Lies, or Truth?

Just as the title says: DID AKAME LIE when she said she doesn’t know how to use her TRUMP CARD? This is something I’ve been thinking over tonight, and I think I’ve come to the conclusion: NO, she genuinely didn’t.

Why do I feel this? HOW could she not know? Well, let’s break it down.

Firstly, when Akame learned of the TRUMP CARD, it was in Gozuki’s final moments, as she stabbed him through with the blade, and SUBJECTED his heart to the curse. He didn’t tell her because even HE didn’t know, in fact his exact words are just this: This Teigu possesses a Trump Card...it involves discarding one’s humanity. I was never able to use it, but you might be able to... He didn’t know what it took to unleash the trump card at the time, so he DIDN’T TELL AKAME how to!

And he couldn’t use it on her, EITHER, because of this.

So how did AKAME learn it?

She didn’t. She was FIGURING IT OUT slowly, however.

We move half way through the story, Akame and Kurome have decided to show up one on one: to end their Rivalry. One dies, neither leaves until this is over. Because that is how they must do things: IF EITHER IS TO DIE, IT MUST BE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER. The day prior, Tatsumi visits her as she’s mulling it all over, and she tells him the truth. She DOESN’T KNOW how her Trump Card works, how to activate it. . .but she feels that SOON the answer will be revealed to her.

And it’s through killing KUROME she feels that will be done.

This Murasame has a secret, ultimate technique. But the way I am NOW, I can’t use it. To use the SECRET TECHNIQUE of a cursed blade such as this, I need to discard my humanity...that is what I was TAUGHT. Slaying, Carnage, and Bloodshed...only when your HEART EMBRACES the demon inside, can this technique be wielded...at least, that’s how I always interpreted it.

...I think the time for that may be NEAR.

Akame came to this conclusion, that killing her sister would be the trigger, in her mind, because of Wave and her’s fight: where he told her --- No matter what the circumstances...for you to consider KILLING your own SISTER as a means of SAVING her...you’re fucking NUTS. And that clicked hard with her: because it’s that very reason, the resolve behind able to put her own SISTER who is her very world six feet under, in pieces, that allows ONLY SHE to claim Murasame’s handle. Should another touch the blade, the blade reacts viciously, destroying their arm from within, as we saw with one of the Rakshasa demons when he disarmed her: it decimated the bone, twisted his arm in a counter-clockwise motion, and made his entire arm UNMOVABLE until she snapped his neck in the same instance.

Claiming MURASAME is akin to a death sentence, for the BLADE chooses the master: not the other way around.

Tatsumi questions if she will try to TALK to Kurome first, and of course, Akame agrees. Because that is her sister. She loves her dearly, and she doesn’t WANT this. . .but her next answer is ever the same: But if I am unable, I will not HESITATE to kill her...That possibility ALSO exists. Because the mission must always come first: the saving of her nation.

To usher a NEW WORLD of PEACE and PROSPERITY. . .no matter who is lost in the process.

And ESDEATH and KUROME are the two strongest of the Jaegers.

It doesn’t stop there though: Akame also knows the risk that her TRUMP CARD could pose: If my heart should come to EMBRACE the DEMON WITHIN...and I become possessed by this CURSED BLADE...I would then become Night Raid’s target. At that time, I want you to KILL ME. Dying at the hands of Night Raid would be an honor. Akame doesn’t know what EMBRACING THE DEMON will do to her, and she has thought out every possible outcome...to ensure her allies are aware of the risks.

She did NOT KNOW what would transpire.

It’s why when she KILLS TATSUMI, that she unleashes it’s power, and it’s such a destructive force. The unknowing of what you were doing would make it’s power ten fold: GREED can be a motive, LUST FOR POWER, all of this can be what drives someone to do heinous things. But Akame holds none of that. She simply wants to KILL ESDEATH...and save her friend. Save her NATION at every and all costs.

As she says later, before the Assault on the Empire: ...no matter what the outcome, this is my Final Battle. My duty is to BURY ESDEATH. If I can raise the probability of my success by even 1%, I will take whatever RISK!

If she truly knew beforehand, that KILLING TATSUMI or someone close to her, would bring about the end of this war so quickly. . .she’d not have hesitated, or wasted time. She’d have sacrificed anyone of Night Raid, because though she loves Night Raid, they all know the costs they face, and they all have SWORN to throw down their lives for the mission.

Her not knowing...is what made her so strong: it was Murasame’s Reaction to her embracing it’s POWER and ending Tatsumi’s life of her own choice, CUTTING HER TIES with him. (Yes he lives because she somehow WILLED her blade to claim Tyrant’s Life and not Tatsumi’s but yknow the effect is still there.)

#The Era Of The Empire Draws To A Close || The Very Existence Of Night Raid But Tales Now - Nothing More (Headcanons)#The info is all there and it just #Hits so much harder?#Especially because she is not above sacrifices #She's left her allies to die many times #Because the mission always comes first

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cinemacentral666 · 7 months

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Europa (1991)

Movie #1,167 • Ranking Lars von Trier #1

Europa is a stunning work of art, both from a technical perspective as well as an emotional and thematic one. The final picture in his Europa trilogy, this film easily (and immediately) ranks among his very best works. Exploring a post-war Germany through the lens of an idealistic American, Leopold Kessler (played by Jean-Marc Barr), who just wants to "show some kindness" to the people in the wake of Nazism. His naivety borders on the absurd and he's used as a pawn by almost every other party to achieve some goal, all of which run in stark contrast to his own childlike intentions. Anchored by an unusual and unsettling second person narration (with the legend Max von Sydow as The Narrator), the use of hypnotic voice is different and effective. It can be seen as an inner monologue but not quite of this man's volition, like a driving voice against freewill.

The most jarring and experimental visual technique deployed is Lars von Trier's juxtaposition of black and white with bursts of color, typically at the same time and occasionally with the aide of back projections, which characters sometimes interact with as if they're occupying the same space. The result is a surreal and magnificent delight, inventive and blissful yet never grating. It's masterful and unlike anything I've ever seen before. I found myself deeply pondering the meaning or intentions behind these choices. Perhaps color is meant to represent truth or fear or both. But in all honesty, the point — whatever it may be — seems far less important than the simple and tactile wonder it invokes.

On some level this might be seen as sympathetic towards Nazism, but that strikes me as reductive. This is far more complicated than any single "good vs. bad" reading. Years later of course, LVT would land in hot water for his 2011 Cannes presser "I'm a Nazi" comments, so seeing this in retrospect it would seem like there might be even more to it, but I'll always keep striving against any easy narrative because it plainly feels like that's what the art is beckoning we do.

This is is a film about the individual's plight in the face of giant, impenetrable forces, who will stop at nothing from seeing the individual as nothing more than a pawn regardless of what side of the fence they operate from. How even a man with the purest of heart never has any agency and will always turn towards destruction in the end. How on each descending rung of the ladder we find an exponentially increasing need for normalcy, as those on the top — whose lives more or less remain unchanged — engage in psychotic behavior on whims sprung from greed and a fear of "the other," however real or imagined.

We follow Leopold's saga as an apprentice sleeping car conductor on the Zentropa company's Frankfurt to Munich line. The concept of the unending train loop is in easy metaphor on so many levels: from the circuitous nature of the human urge to move forward and away, to the fascist rallying cry, itself the kind of dangerous lie that leads to societal collapse in and around the infrastructure. The film is littered with a cavalcade of tremendous performances — many of LVT's usual suspects, like Udo Kier and Ernst-Hugo Järegård, among others — all of which seem to embody a trope or symbolic personality type (we have the femme fatale, the shameful patriarch, etc.). Lars makes a cameo himself, comically and perfectly cast as simply "Jew" — a provocateur till the bitter end.

When Leo is pushed past the brink of all sensibility, he commits an atrocious act: the heinous murder of dozens of innocents, detonating a bomb on the train as it goes over a bridge, himself among the many victims. The Narrator's booming voice commands that in ten seconds he will drown. But it takes a lot longer than that to die from drowning. So the recitation is slow and painful. None of this misery happens or happened in an instance. The pawns are almost always the ones who push the misery in gears. But what Europa reveals is how little control they ever really had.

SCORE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

And so that concludes my series on RANKING LARS VON TRIER. He is the final tally (thanks for reading)...

15 Epidemic 14 Medea 13 Manderlay 12 The Idiots 11 Antichrist 10 The House That Jack Built 09 The Boss of It All 08 Dogville 07 Melancholia 06 Dancer in the Dark 05 The Kingdom/The Kingdom: Exodus 04 The Element of Crime 03 Nymphomaniac 02 Breaking the Waves 01 Europa

#war #1991 #lars von trier director #🇩🇰#10 #jean-marc barr #barbara sukowa #udo kier #ernst-hugo järegård #henning jensen #erik mørk #eddie constantine #jørgen reenberg

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dallasareaopinion · 8 months

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It is not my side, it is your side. 2023

I may have written about this before since it irks me so much. I cannot remember and I am not going back to look.

It just keeps coming back over and over again. I am surprised that more people don’t blow a gasket. Maybe because I am independent that it bothers me, yet I have seen it in a work environment that had nothing to do with politics and it drove me crazy.

The Republicans and Democrats continually point the finger at the other side whenever there is some story about political malfeasance and yet will back up their side with impunity no matter how heinous or morally deprived an action on their side. And the devout followers of each party will loudly proclaim the other side is much worse than our side without realizing they are only compounding this exact problem.

Sure there are many Democrats and Republicans that maintain at least some impartiality, however they usually sit on the sidelines and do not jump into the fray for fear of who knows what, but probably loss of connectivity with the larger group. They need to stand up because this is only getting worse and contributes to the growing divide in our country.

The most recent example and this is much worse to me I guess than to others. It is the story of the woman running for the State legislature in Virginia who apparently made a specific sex video her and her husband shared. Of course when Republicans found out, they pounced on it. Yet a person from the Viriginia legislature offered up that this would be a great fund raising opportunity since well doing it with your husband publicly is something to be proud of(?).

I am sorry. I don’t think so. There are many things you can do in private, and maybe even publicly if that is your bent, but to do something of questionable thinking and then run for political office. What were you thinking? At some point you have to realize your moral compass is not set for political office and making public policy. You may actually have some good ideas, or even solutions to problems, but people are supposed to be able to look up to you. How can you go to your constituents and say “hey, vote for me, but don’t tell your kids”? Kids read the news, too.

And yes I know we are overwhelmed with politicians of all stripes bathing in the sewers, but we also need to step back and decide exactly what am I supporting when I publicly back someone who made questionable decisions. We are way past time for some serious reckoning with who we are in the body politic.

Yes, this one bothered me, not just because I have minor grandchildren who might run across this story when I am trying to open their minds to better civics in our world, but also because someone thought they should not only show support, but suggest this is a fund raising opportunity. You can internet search for the story, but their logic was beyond me except for this was someone on our side who was persecuted (?, She published the original video) by the other side so must be immediately rallied around with some questionable justifications. Because she supports what we support? Tell me exactly how I am supposed to think your ideas are what I want or can trust when you push this on me.

Sometimes people ask me why I do not run for office and I sit quietly because of youthful indiscretions from 40 years ago or so. And what I did is no where near the shock value we get in today’s world. And shoot it is legal in half the country now anyway. So maybe I could run without too much worry, but I still believe that if you are going to be a leader or role model you should be someone people can point to with pride. You do not have to be perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but people who have affairs, steal, lie, expose themselves to public in sexual display while maintaining a different public face maybe not the best representatives for public office. I am not sure I could actually vote for an adult entertainer, but if they always represented themselves as such at least I might be more inclined to listen to their ideas over someone who lives a clandestine life.

It is bad enough politicians say one thing and then get in office and do another or do nothing and then abuse their office, but honesty at least deserves a listen.

As always we need new parties to start holding these entitled Democrats and Republicans accountable to how they represent themselves and subsequently what they actually do once in office. Yep I am in Texas and Ken Paxton is also exactly what I am talking about. There are some that are going to support him no matter what because he is their guy, but really what does that say about them.

Not much.

And the next time I hear a politician talk about values, I will try hard not to choke.

#politics

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