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slocumjoe · 2 months

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sole stuff purely for myself, Augustijn and his relationship + thoughts on the Queer Community (the companions)

Cait; Having struggled with addiction himself, not only does he understand her better than the others, but he's actually equipped to properly help her beyond just sticking her in the chair and calling it a day. They hold each other accountable, make sure they're both staying clean and not falling into old or new bad habits. Cait vents to him a lot, and finds that when she's vulnerable, his flowery and sentimental nature is comforting rather than annoying. Gus looks up to her as well, respecting how she was able to take herself back at such a young age. He admires her will and dedication to doing and having better for herself, mostly out of spite. She's comfortable talking about things and taking influence from him because he's done a lot of what she's done, and sometimes worse, and knows that his guidance is from experience and not out of his ass.

Curie; She reminds him strongly of his ex-wife, Lottie. The key difference is that Curie is driven by her head as much as her heart, where Lottie was all heart. Curie gets stressed out by Augustijn and his habits, his history. There are some things a doctor can't help but want to fix. There some things you cannot fix. Augustijn sees her efforts for what they are, but he tends to indulge her too much. He lets her think her methods or medicines or whatnot are working to appease her, only for her to become disappointed when she realizes he's only humoring her. Their relationship is rocky for a while. After a while, Augustijn takes the time to explain to her why he's done the things he's done, how he ended up this way. He's an insight into the darker parts of humanity. He wants her to go into the world knowing its shadows, but knowing she is bright enough to brave them. Curie comes to understand this. She isn't sure she appreciates it.

Codsworth; Codsworth hated him for the longest time. Wanted him dead. Longtime followers will remember Isadora—she was Codsworth's owner, not Gus. So, when Gus got divorced and kicked out, he stayed with Isa, and Codsworth got to hear all the tea about Augustijn and his marriage and his very, very shitty life philosophies. Codsworth hated him. Found him pathetic and repulsive. The rivalry remains 200 years later. And even if Augustijn changes and comes to realize all his actual flaws, and how to fix them, Codsworth can't forgive him for some things. The tension mellows, but the robot doesn't forget, and holds Augustijn accountable with a sharpness rarely seen. As for Augustijn, thinks they're good pals. Gus doesn't realize how sarcastic Isadora allowed Codsworth's programming to be. Genuinely doesn't realize Codsy hates his guts.

Danse; Augustijn joins the BoS just to appease the hot guy he found stomping on ferals. They meet at a point where Augustijn is still relatively spineless, lacking his own values, just parroting whoever he admires without understanding their goals and motivations. Danse doesn't see that part. He gets distracted by the poetic, sentimental, painfully earnest man who looks at him in a way he's never been looked at before. Danse is seen by Gus, and by seeing each other, they blind each other. Danse doesn't see Gus's flightiness, his victim complex, his holier-than-thou desire to be a martyr and avoid addressing his mistakes directly. He sees soft blue eyes that wrinkle in the corners when he talks. Augustijn doesn't see Danse's judgement or his pigheadedness or pretension. He doesn't see how unforgiving and cruel he can be. Gus sees a soft man trying to be strong because his strength is needed. It's after Listening Post Bravo they truly start looking at the other. It's then they start fighting, where Augustijn begins to challenge Danse on everything he had previously agreed to without hesitation. It's where Danse brings up Augustijn's actions, his inactions, and dares him to explain what the hell he was thinking, if he was thinking for himself or about himself. They look at the other and scream, do better, I know you can, I know you are better.

Deacon; They get along too well, but only because we all know what they say about misery. They're both chameleons, for very different reasons. Deacon would never sacrifice his morals for a role—Gus has, and continues to do so. But neither take life too seriously, always looking for the fun, for ways to make it better even if only by an inch. Deacon knows regret when he sees it. He understands, but privately, he doesn't respect Gus, not for a while. Augustijn takes his lies in such easy stride with no concern, its like he doesn't care who Deacon actually is. You could call it open-minded. You could call it kind, freeing. Deacon calls it noncommittal. Augustijn doesn't push back against him for anything, at the beginning, and it drives him crazy. Augustijn allows it because he knows the pressure of being trapped in a known truth. He knows needing that out, needing the back door of excuses and lies and explanations. He thinks he's being kind. Once he understands his own enablement, he calls Deac on a bluff, a lie, something. Because Deacon deserves the respect of being truly known, he realizes. He deserves the respect of being expected better of.

Gage; Augustijn pities him. He sees an old fighting dog who never got out. He sees what he could have been if he never took responsibility for the bad shit in his life that was his fault. They keep their distance from each other, but even if there's tension, there's also respect. Gage, for his part, knows a powerful, useful leader when he sees it. And the Minutemen didn't to where they got on their own. It's Gus's increasing willingness to self-actualize and get over his own bullshit that has Gage less irritated with him. He's still a soft piece of shit, but he finds his own voice. Augustijn never stops trying to find a soft spot in Gage—he knows it's in there, and refuses that the old bitch is incapable of change. It annoys the hell out of Gage and more than once they ended up taking the argument to the ground. Even so, Gage sticks with him for the money in it, which comes easier than it did raiding. He'd sooner shoot himself than admit it.

Hancock; yet again, Gus sees a younger version of himself in Hancock, which is odd, as they're close in age. Gus tries to keep space from him due to his chem use—Hancock cuts down and uses only away from him out of respect. They talk often about politics and philosophy, but it always circles back to hating rich people. Hancock gives Gus shit, because he is one of those rich people. He's a nepotism baby, after all. Hancock says the things Gus wants to say, he just adds more colorful language to it. Augustijn respects him for his determination, but worries that Hancock does things for the sake it, sometimes. There's righteousness, and there's wanting to be able to say you are righteous. Augustijn is very familiar with that thin line. There's no doubt Hancock is himself and no one else, but anger is a fickle, unreliable motivator.

Nick; reminds Gus of his father—reserved, logical, sharp, but never hesitant to do the right thing. He respects as much as he fears Nick. He suspects that Nick can see through him like glass, and knows every little blemish on his soul the same way his father did. Gus wants to make him proud, but Nick just wants the guy to find himself first. He never learned to be his own person, he's not gonna do well trying to be everyone's favorite. Augustijn doesn't understand Nick's particular plight of identity, as he only knows Nick the Synth and sees no need to dwell on where Nick the Synth came from. He doesn't understand wanting to be your own person. He doesn't understand not wanting to be a shadow of someone good.

MacCready; MacCready reminds him of a friend during his service. That boy died throwing himself on a grenade. Gus doesn't think MacCready would ever do that, but he's glad for it. He tries so hard to find something for Bobby — tries to be a brother, a father, tries to set him up on dates, tries to help him find faith — in this manner, he is to MacCready what Curie is to him. Only, Mac doesn't humor it. Gus just thinks he's so young, with so much responsibility, he can't do it alone. While he's of good intentions, MacCready has almost perfected his one-man war against the world. He doesn't need help, he needs company. He just needs a friend, not a savior. He doesn't hold it against Gus, but sometimes suspects the man does good deeds just so he can say he's a good person. He's not too far off. Either way, they enjoy their sniper duels and competitions.

Piper; Augustijn, deep down, is frustrated with her, but he expresses it disingenuously. He finds her a bad reporter, thinks her a busy body with a complex rather than a good faith woman of the people. In truth, he was the same when he was younger, so he tries steering her in the right direction. Or, what he thinks is the right direction. They butt heads every conversation, but there's mutual respect and trust even if Piper thinks Gus lacks backbone, and he thinks she lacks subtlety. Very frenemies. She's the one who immediately and loudly calls him on his shit right from the get go. As time passes, he appreciates it. Kind of a little sister, or a niece + bad influence uncle thing.

Preston; is held up as the pinnacle of human kindness and goodness. It's a dehumanizing thing, though. Preston is not a hurt young man, he is Augustijn's faithful and loyal Colonel who will always guide him to redemption. He is not capable of mistakes, or cruelty, or anything imperfect. He's Preston Garvey. The Commonwealth Minuteman to whom all Minutemen are held up to. Preston doesn't hate it, but it leads to their friendship and brotherhood being built on falsehoods. Augustijn doesn't see people; he sees Good People and Bad People. Their humanity is forgotten, with this perspective. Preston suffers for the longest time under this pedestal and the expectations until the Second Massacre, where Augustijn realizes that he's been hurting his friend, and sees what it was costing. He's able to repair the relationship, but sometimes takes Preston's newfound assertiveness as a consequence of his blindness, rather than something he helped Preston develop.

X6-88; Augustijn's view on synths is shaken by X6. He viewed them as just lab grown people, but X6 is so very not human that he can't make that claim with a straight face. X6 maintains that he isn't human, so shouldn't be claimed at such. How do you justify something's individuality as a human, if it doesn't want to be human? Augustijn believes in souls. What is a soul? How do you tell if something has one? X6 claims he doesn't, that he lacks the spark of humanity. But Augustijn watches his little quirks that other synths lack, and wonders if a soul is decided not by God, but by if you choose to find it in any thing. Synths may not be human. They may not be alive. But who has the right to decide if something is deserving of cruelty, regardless? X6 listens to him prattle on and thinks he's a lunatic. Gus sees his first love in X6—a boy in church who was once so bright. X6 is like the After of that boy. Gus wishes he knew what X6 was like Before, or what he could be if he let himself be it.

#ss; alter

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pacxroma · 1 year

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Raven by Kelela (2023)

Score: 9

The sophomore album by the mysterious and intelligent dance artist Kelela is a serene, calming, and otherworldly experience which draws the listener out of their body and carries them to a higher plane of living. Her first album in 6 years, Raven is a triumphant return to the music world from an artist who was determined to only make music on her terms.

Raven is a complex piece of music which serves as the culmination of a turbulent period of Kelela's life. Following the release of her debut album Take me Apart in 2017, Kelela voluntarily retreated from the music scene to take stock of her creative energies. After assessing her place in the music industry as a femme, black, queer woman, Kelela decided she would only make music with those who supported her identity. By creating this structure of support, Kelela built around her a collaborative and holistic environment which proved incredibly conducive to the creation of music. Raven serves as the incredibly successful culmination of the actions Kelela took to support her art.

Raven shines in a multitude of ways. Its lyrics are meticulous yet relatable, its production is flawless, and the vocal delivery by Kelela is a masterclass in vocal control and ability. Raven is both a smoothly and gorgeously textured album which reflects the genius of the fascinating artist behind its creation. As one song seamlessly flows into the next, the album plays out as a mature and nuanced set of perspectives on love and identity which teach the listener lessons about patience, acceptance, and going where you're loved. In a way, the album reflects the journey Kelela went on to create it. The self-reflective nature of Raven allows it to come across as a victory for Kelela both as an artist and as a human being.

Part of what makes Raven so spectacular is the careful interweaving of ambience. The album uses water as a metaphor for renewal and change, and brings in high-quality recordings of ambient water from German duo OCA. Incorporating water throughout the album to accompany its use as a metaphor is an idea which could have gone so wrong, but due to the artful restraint shown by OCA and Kelea, turns out to be one of the most compelling and interesting parts of the album and a large part of what makes it so spectacular.

The album starts out with Washed Away, a song which is simple yet powerful and can only be described as simply beautiful. Opening with Washed Away shows the journey Kelela has been on and the hard-fought place of peace she has arrived at. Moving on from Washed Away, Kelela spends the first part of the album crafting upbeat yet controlled dance music which allows the listener the choice of learning through its lyrics or simply being transported by its music.

As the album reaches the mid-way point, Kelela starts to lean more on the unexpected. Songs such as Closure, Fooley, and Holier make artful use of OCA's ambient recordings and feature drawn out, breathlessly delivered vocals which impress upon the listener the importance of being present right here, right now. The last portion of the album picks up speed as Kelela decides to leave her listeners with a full-circle moment of growth. Album highlight Sorbet sees Kelela choosing to veer off the ambient path and bring the lessons she wants to impart into perspective. As the beats pick up speed and Kelela's voice grows stronger, the listener is gently lifted out of their meditative state feeling like a more rounded person. The closing song on the album, Far Away, is a transposed rendition of the album's opening track. Unlike Washed Away, Far Away is sung by an artist who is ready to embrace what life has to offer now that she has rightfully cut off those who did not have her best interests in mind.

The only detraction of Raven is its run time. With 15 songs totaling over an hour of music, Raven is great for those who love it. However, such a long run time means that there are natural lulls in the listening experience. For an album that relies so heavily on ambience and peace, it runs the risk of losing its audience in the dull moments. Its this issue which makes Raven perhaps slightly inaccessible. However, for the captivated and determined listener, there is nothing better than leaning into all that Raven has to offer and coming out the other side a changed person.

At its core, Raven is an introspective album which is as complex and serene as the human being who made it. The album feels like an intense journey in self discovery without falling into any of the tired tropes which usually dominate that particular dancefloor subgenre. In creating such a magnificent album, Kelela has cemented herself alongside her idols and peers despite her relatively small discography. Raven is a beautiful album, and deserves to be celebrated.

#Raven #Kelela #dance music #Afro Futurism #Washed Away #ambient music

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luuurien · 9 months

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Kelela - Raven

(Alternative R&B, Breakbeat, Ambient Pop)

In her long-awaited sophomore album, Kelela finds herself effortlessly shifting between sensual dance bliss and ethereal, healing ambient music, Raven a harmonious and fluid album whose unique vantage point on R&B lends Kelela’s breathtaking electronica with an incredible amount of humanity behind it all.

☆☆☆☆☆

By stepping into the shadows, Kelela found herself an incredible new energy. In the years that have passed since her innovative 2017 debut Take Me Apart, Kelela’s minimalist, sensual R&B with unconventional textures and command of both the dancefloor and the bedroom has only become all the more alluring, Kelela careful in her presentation to perfect every element of her music and leave no spot of her world untouched. But with that came both new personal stressors and the terror of the outside world weighing on her: writer’s block and reestablishing personal boundaries in her relationships compounded by the global pandemic and Black Lives Matter uprisings around the United States turning her inward to better understand herself and what she wants from the world, her sophomore album Raven the result of six years of contemplation, reinvention and emotional restoration whose expansive soundscaping achieve the same effect as the heaviest dance music she’s put out to date. Across its more than an hour runtime, Kelela creates an oasis for herself through breathtaking electronica with an incredible amount of humanity behind it all, the album’s pitch black atmospheres lit up by neon synths and breakbeats but calmed by luxurious dancehall and ambient cooldowns, Kelela’s emphasis on fluidity letting her seamlessly slip from song to song with her own needs and growth always at the forefront. It’s cathartic through subtlety rather than explosivity, Raven rewarding deep listening with an endless ocean of Kelela’s R&B magic situated between new styles and an embrace of boundlessness.

With a handful of left-field electronic producers working alongside her, Kelela pushes Raven forward through a perfect balance of downtempo R&B jams and dancefloor bliss, meditation and euphoria both essential for her to leave the strongest impression. The most immediate parts of Raven are the latter kind of tracks: the futuristic breakbeats of Happy Ending and Contact spurred on by ballroom master LSDXOXO; Acemo and FAUZIA come together on the title track as it shifts from hypnotic synth ambiance to a rapturous dance breakdown, freeing and ecstatic as Kelela harnesses herself as her own source of energy and sheds the weight of the past; German ambient dub artist Florian T M Zeisig brings thoughtful tides of energy to the album’s slower sections, Let It Go propelled largely by a bassline and soft keyboard layers and second half highlights Holier, Divorce and Enough for Love some of Kelela’s most brilliant tracks despite how slow stormy they are. Her sound is rooted in electronica staple sounds - ambient, jungle, dub - but Kelela’s divine visions of Raven as an album of protection and rebirth keep the album remarkably refreshing and fantastically luminous. For her, Raven is a renaissance of her own resolve, dance music as both a personal salve and her way to nurture the world and those around her as Closure leans on Rahrah Gabor for an unexpected but electrifying rap verse that brings out a rawer, heavier sexuality Kelela tends to avoid with her hazier lyricism, Gabor riding LSDXOXO and Bambii’s decelerated beat with clever wordplay and loads of charisma (“Uh, what the lick read? / I'm waiting for you to pull up and come lick me / It's been a minute since I let you come and stick me / You know I always leave the situation sticky”). As Kelela works to nourish her own soul, the limitless reach of her music allows her to fill your own body up with her presence and make Raven a marvelous, transformative experience.

It’s an album that moves slowly and methodically, its fifteen songs spread across 62 minutes to make her dance songs deeply layered and the ambient tracks rich and expansive. Washed Away and Far Away open and close the album, hypnotic synth pads and her serpentine vocal improvisation expressing similar but distinct expressions of change, the former Kelela drifting away from the world and the latter the result of her fully immersed in her own mind for the previous hour, all the tension inside her released as the same sounds embody a new and rejuvenated Kelela. Despite much of the album being that sort of ambient electronica, many of the songs can easily be imaged as glorious ballads, Holier’s gentle pads careening around the gentle throb of a bassline that doesn’t ever establish a tempo for the song, instead soft pulses of low end that play against Kelela’s angelic vocals, while the melting delight of Sorbet runs with its fluttering synth arpeggios and reverb-soaked everything as Kelela loses herself in the moment-to-moment slow rush of physical contact (“Waves when we touch, rippling in / Soft on my mouth, sweeter than / I wanna lay out, sun on my face”). The calmness across all of Raven makes it endlessly relistenable, where the transitions between Closure and Contact and Fooley are so seamless you have to go through the entire thing again just to experience it in context another time, where drowning yourself in Kelela’s expansive ambient pieces makes those rushes of club intensity in Happy Ending and Bruises that much more incredible. By working for emotional cohesion as much as she does musical and tonal cohesion, Raven ascends to a level of mastery her debut gave dozens of glimpses of, Kelela entirely in her own element with a control over her sound she refuses to fully restrict, always assured in her ability to go off course for a moment and captivate you nonetheless.

Raven’s seamlessness and innovative take on atmospheric, imaginative R&B lifts it far beyond anywhere people expected Kelela to go, ditching the heaviness and deconstruction of her debut for a weightless and emotionally resonant album where putting herself back together is an act of patience and dedication rather than the jolts of energy Take Me Apart’s stories drew from. It’s a relaxed album whose creator is still fully aware of what she’s cleansing from her mind, every breakbeat groove and rumbling ambient piece so lush and layered to wash those negative feelings out of her. Raven pulls you in like nothing else will this year, Kelela’s quiet return to the world a tranquil and multilayered listen with more magic to discover every time.

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crystalbrain7 · 1 year

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crystalbrain-trump micropenis

ok, donald j. trump just doesn't understand teh whole CIA thing, which is that we have constant, orgiastic, cocaine-fueled man-on-man sex orgies. we didn't know why, but evenentually we figured out why donald trump has no fuckin gay sex with us: he has a very, very, very small penis. eye think that trump paid stormy daniels money 2 say that his penis looked liek toad from mario kart becuz this is actually a compliment compared 2 the reality of trump's incredibly small penis. it is really small, at first i thought i was looking at a clitoris but it was not the case becuz there was a nutsaq underneath it, and it was liek just a tiny little dick with two gigantic balls that apparently maek him act even dumber than me. he was really bitchy about cocaine acting all holier than though about it but we eventually got his ass to do a line. he wouldn't smoke crack becuz his two gigantic manballs made him a testosterone filled racist but since cocaine is for rich ppl he thought, we were able 2 convince him 2 at least try it. all i gotta say is that donald trump out-assholed everyone, every CIA agent was completely baffled as 2 how someone could be such a grandiosose asshole and i for one did not want him near teh cocaine again. he didn't know how 2 be a world leader, becuz he couldn't handle his cocaine.

so anyways, he doesn't listen 2 our coke-addled advice and then the fucker turns on us and tries 2 get rid of teh legislature we control, leik hello? we're teh CIA, we were on to your ass the second u wouldn't show us ur penis, did u not know that we used interdimensional superpowers 2 keep u from overthrowing our cool little circle of rich cocaine heads? u think ur a real machivellian but ur not realistic enough, ur just leik a really dumb schoolyard bully who's mad cuz he got a D minus on a math quiz and his dad fucked him in the ass as punishment. seriously, what can i say that hasn't been said about u? oh, i know, u call hentai "japanese cartoons" but these are actually sex demons that ur penis will never experience.

because its too fuckin' small.

#nft #nft art #fuck trump #cocaine #crypto art #crypto artist #pentagram #ballsack #cia #nft artist #nft community

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strayhorn · 2 years

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List of my ocs!

Trigona Tales:

Tagi - A young beast who wants to be better than his father. Blond hair, green eyes, arrogant, and a smooth talker.

Cufah - A shy young man who will do anything for Tagi. Red hair, grey eyes, muscular, fighting enthusiast, and an orphan.

Mizmi - A zombie just trying to get back to his kids. Black hair, blue eyes, nervous wreck, sees everyone as his kids, and soft spoken.

Gammal - A demigod who needs to die for the good of the world. Black hair, blue eyes, impulsive, in the moment, happy (for now), and empathetic.

Koun - The angel who escorts Gammal to her final resting place. White haired, blue eyes, holier than thou, stoic, tired™️, and loyal.

Reetus and Karis - A pair of kids who have to look out for each other. Interchangeable names, lonely, running from the end of the world, and afraid.

DnD:

Tristan Crawl - A weasel that teaches mice to sing. A cartoon weasel, can’t speak, loyal to his friends, and quality time is his love language.

Kapow the Clown/KC - A clown boxer who just lost his wife. A cartoon clown, red dreadlocks, very powerful, proud, piano player, and far from home.

Hogarth Ridgewall - An illusionist who just wants to make himself laugh. Red haired, monocle wearing, cape swishing, dramatic, and cruel.

Oscar Vanlumin - A butler who only gets one day off a year but love his job. Black hair, pencil moustache, well dressed, and righteous.

Captor Moldsmoke - A shady mage that only sees doom. Black curly hair, walks with a cane, has a scar down their cheek, always listening, and wary.

Lark Mouser - A mercenary that can’t be held down.

Others:

Marshall Kips - A lonely little fog cloud.

Derrick Singer - A mean tailor who wants nothing to do with gods.

Leslie Cunningham - A district attorney with a lot of experience.

Walker - An entity that walks to lessen their sorrow.

#Will update in the future #in my toybox (my ocs)#Trigona Tales #dnd character #tma rp

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ckneal · 3 years

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A story occurred to me awhile ago, while listening to the song "According to You" by Orianthi. I don't think I'll ever write it, because I currently have nine other story ideas that I enjoy a lot more, but it keeps persistently coming back, drawing out new details. About a post-canon world, in which Adam keeps breaking out of the human section of Heaven to try and save Michael, only no one will tell Adam where Michael is, or what happened after the rapture. During one attempt, Adam somehow makes his way to Hell, thinking his holier-than-thou brothers might have shoved Michael back into the cage.

Naturally, he finds the cage empty. As Adam's standing there, trying to think of what to do next--who knows how long he has before Sam and Dean figure out where he is this time--he's picked up by a band of demons who take him to see Rowena.

At first, Adam's intimidated by the idea of a private audience with the queen of Hell, but then it comes out that she's a friend of his brothers'. Because of course she is. Because EVERYONE who has any scrap of power anymore seems to be in with his brothers.

He stands there, half listening while Rowena starts to give her own rendition of a speech he's already heard several times from Sam and Dean--covering the bases of why are you out here, it's dangerous for a stray human to be wandering around out here, you're lucky we found you--as if Adam were a child, and not easily a dozen times older than them and then some. However, much like Crowley before her, Rowena has become a very busy woman, especially with--as implied in season 15--large factions of the demon population unhappy with the way that she's decided to run Hell. Rowena doesn't have the same finesse that Sam and Dean do when talking about Michael, and unknowingly reveals a crucial piece of information that TFW had been careful to avoid outright stating: that Michael is dead. Adam's lucky that Rowena doesn't happen to be looking at him when she says it. Instead, she's looking at some scroll that a minor demon brought to her, and right afterward Rowena announces that she needs to step away for a minute. She leaves Adam alone in her private foyer, promising to be right back.

And while she's gone, Adam walks right out into the hallway and down a corridor. He's still reeling from the revelation, but already gears are starting to turn. He's looking for a library of some kind--knowing already that he'll never be able to find anything useful in any book available to humans in Heaven.

And while Adam's wandering the palace, he comes upon a dungeon--sort of. It was clearly meant to look inconspicuous. Adam thought it was just another room, and he had been opening every door. Inside, he unknowingly finds AU Michael.

AU Michael is chained up like Gabriel in season 13, grace depleted to nearly nothing, because Rowena has been syphoning it to boost her own powers and secure her place on the throne of Hell. But she hasn't been as brutal with AU Michael as Asmodeus was with Gabriel however, and AU Michael is still coherent enough to talk. And to notice that, just like Gadreel had left traces of his grace in Sam's soul after possessing him in season 9, Adam's soul is glowing with traces of the OG Michael's.

Adam and AU Michal go back and forth for a bit, AU Michael trying to lure Adam closer, thinking that if he can drain the grace from Adam's soul, he could restore himself enough to break the chains and escape. Before coming within grabbing distance though, Adam finally links him to the memories that Casriel pushed into the original Michael's head--and thus Adam's--in 15x08. Gears start turning, because Adam knows that that other Michael died. If it's possible to bring this Michael back though, it should also be possible to bring the original back as well.

When Adam's demeanor suddenly changes, AU Michael shifts tactics, demanding to know who Adam is and what the queen of Hell's offering him to get him to work with her. Because to him, the most likely conclusion is that Rowena must have injected Adam with AU Michael's own grace as part of some ploy.

"You know that you can't trust her? I've been inside her head, the people she's loyal to are a very exclusive few, and I guarantee you are not one of them."

Uncomfortable, Adam leaves.

As he's making his way back down the corridor however, he happens to overhear Sam and Dean talking with Rowena, who had gotten in touch to let them know about Adam's presence. Sam and Dean are exasperated. They're worried that Adam is going to get himself hurt on one of these outings, or worse. Rowena tells them that they should be worried, the grace in Adam's soul can be used in some very powerful magic. He's lucky that one of the rebel factions of Hell didn't find him first. Dean asks if Rowena can extract it, and she points out that Michael and Adam were joined for a very long time, it's probably worked its way very deep into the fabric of his soul. Removing it all at once could be very dangerous. Then Rowena suggests that an easier solution might be to erase Adam's memories. She assures Sam and Dean that she could wipe the slate clean right back to his first death, and the silence that follows lasts way too long for Adam's comfort.

Turning, Adam runs straight down the way he came, back to the other Michael's chamber, demanding, "How do you bring angels back to life?"

AU Michael looks surprised, but he doesn't flinch. "First you need to wake them in the Empty."

"Where's that?"

"Nowhere that a human can reach alone."

"Try me."

"Free me, and I'll help you."

Adam hesitates.

"Come on, kid. I'm your only friend down here and you know it."

Adam's not convinced, but he thinks he hears footsteps down the hall, and gives into the rush of "fuck it," walking forward and offering AU Michael his hand. The two of them smash their ways out of the palace with the sheer force of AU Michael's wings.

What follows is a story of these two breaking into the Empty, AU Michael finding out who Adam is and the nature of his relationship with the OG, and wondering what his other self could have ever seen in this mouthy little human--then shifts to wondering what Adam, who'd walk to the end of existence and tell the Entity there to go fuck itself all for the chance of finding him again could have seen in a version of him.

Meanwhile, Michael and Castiel are having their own bonding experience in the super mega awful section of the Empty--where Cas still is, because I'm ignoring huge sections of 15x20, but that's a whole different song.

#midam #au michael #my thoughts

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ad-lucem-et-amor · 2 years

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Christian "Must-Read" Book Recommendations! ~ Haley Pham

Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis (audience: anyone & everyone welcome to read - whether skeptical, or a new believer, this book can be seen as an intro to Christian faith; sets out to explain Christianity, rejecting the boundaries that defines the many denominations; stands as a powerful and rational expository piece)

More than a carpenter by Josh and Shawn McDowell (not believer yet but wants to explain why they believe; skeptic sought out to disprove crazy Christians and then found there is evidence that he was not only a 1st century Hebrew Carpenter and truly was the God He claimed to be... see chapter names, babe)

Love does by Bob Goff (makes love an action by a man that lives a reportedly whimsical and crazy life! Fun metaphors... get ready to see life in a different way!)

Everybody Always by Bob Goff

Love lives here by Maria Goff (if you feel like your life and purpose feels small...)

The ruthless elimination of hurry by John Mark Comer (looks like a great coffee table read, but seriously - READ IT: how difficult it is to live in the presence of God while also amongst consumerism, attention economy; how do we still maintain attention on our Spirituality and God's presence. INSPIRING; written by past pastor of Bridgetown in Oregon)

Live no lies by John Mark Comer

Gentle and Lowly by Dane C. Ortlund (so quotable, difficult understanding Jesus's loving heart for you, esp. hearing "God died for your sins" and it losing its impact; draws us to Matthew 11)

Hearing God by Dallas Willard (about developing a conversational relationship with God; e.g., how to pray differently and developing an intimate relationship with God)

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis (allegory with deeper spiritual meaning; a bus ride from hell to Heaven, conversational)

Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers (CHRISTIAN FICTION - based on book of Hosea depicting the love that Jesus has for us, author of the Masterpiece)

The Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer (For those perhaps interested in reading theology, definitely read first 2 and last chapters - understanding the infinite God and correcting our potentially warped views of God)

The problem of pain by C.S. Lewis (Re: question: "if God is good and all powerful, why does He let His creatures experience pain?")

The world's last night by C.S. Lewis (series of essays from him on temptation and evil)

Holier than thou by Jackie Hill Perry (explores the concept that He can't sin against you and trust; for more of her work, see 30 Minutes with the Perrys podcast!)

(Notes taken whilst listening to YouTube video "Christian Books You MUST read *life-changing*, channel: Haley Pham Vlogs!

See video for links to books in the Description!

#Christian books #must-read #books #beautiful creature #Haley Pham #God Bless this vlog!#Thank you Haley Pham <3 #Booktube #Recommendations #see video link for book list and LINKS to purchase!

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kittysaysxmeow · 3 years

Text

@evildxllface

CLOSED

Sometimes Selina really despised the opposite sex. She couldn’t determine if it was arrogance or desperation that prompted the chatty male at her side to approach but she was leaning towards ignorance. In what world was a woman seated comfortably, content with her own company, invitation to shoot your shot. The burglar prided herself on the resting bitch face she’d perfected over the years at warding off unwanted attention. Clearly she didn’t look threatening enough. “Listen Dickless,” with a deceptively engaging smile she tilted her head in his direction. “If you’re looking for someone to stroke your ego then you’re talking to the wrong girl, now kindly fuck off” the heel of her stilettos sank into the toe of his shoe sharply. “Before things gets ugly”. Selina let him whimper in pain for a few seconds before removing her heel and watching him scurry off. Her attention was returned to the catwalk, impatiently waiting for the show to begin.

“Harls, I hope you’re in position” she muttered, pressing a nail to the earpiece embedded in her canal, as the models began to saunter down the aisle. The clown queen in question was supposed to be stationed backstage, keeping an eye out for their target. Gandering at the ensembles, he designer was an artist, it was obvious. They displayed a form of clarity that extended into the pieces to become a beautiful message for the audience. It was a message of elevated hope, of cherishing the human form, of saying we are worthy of living our dreams together in a cohesive and emboldened society. But Selina couldn’t give two fucks about his vision, it was a studded garment in particular she was after.

It’d been too long since Selina slipped into disguise but she couldn’t waltz back into Gotham when Sionis wanted both of their head. The blonde colored wig she donned did wonders at complimenting her attire. Truthfully, Selina lived for thrill of it all, she always had. It wasn’t just catering to her pilfering dependence that constantly kept her on the cusp of danger, relying solely on experience and luck. She did what she needed to survive, even if the methods she used to protect her interest were unfavorable in the view of holier than thou vigilantes. The lifestyle might appear less than ideal on the surface but it suited her just fine. She was a child of Gotham’s underbelly after all, either you adapted or let it swallow you whole. Every man, woman, and cat for themselves.

There it was. Selina’s eyes widened marginally, leaning forward with parted lips as a dark haired model strutted forth. Her slender frame wrapped in a blood red dress with the prettiest rubies she’d ever laid eyes own sewn into the fabric. “Well aren’t you gorgeous” she sighed wistfully, living up to her moniker by how transfixed she’d become just at the shine.

“Its go time sweetcakes” she grinned. “Time to cause a little ruckus”

#〈 thread : harley&selina 003 〉

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absynthe--minded · 4 years

Note

opinions on the recent russingon meta? tbh i love russingon, i love black fingon headcanons, but i do agree that it's a little weird when fingon gets totally sidelined in fics as just Maedhros' Emotional Growth or the Black Nanny. i mean, russingon really lends itself to hurt/comfort, which is fine, but i think ppl sometimes neglect fingon's arc. thoughts as a russingon writer? (no accusations, love your work, but wanted your perspective on other ppls russingon works)

(Wow this got long, lol.

Full disclosure - I haven’t read the recent Russingon meta, or offered any substantial response to it. Quite a lot of people I know have, but I’ve not had the time and my brain hasn’t been cooperating with me to read large chunks of text over the last couple of days. I have opinions on your ask as I’m seeing it now, and that’s what I’ll be responding to. I’m also not black, though I’m not white either - my ethnic group is one that has troubling stereotypes associated with it of caring for white people/acting as sage dispensers of advice/etc, but I can’t speak to the breadth and depth of the black experience when it comes to being a ‘black nanny’ in fiction, and I’m not going to try to.)

So, Fingon being a cardboard cutout/emotional support animal for Maedhros and Fingon being perceived as black by large portions of the fandom are two things that arose completely independently of one another. Fingon being Maedhros’s support animal is a trope as old as Russingon itself, and possibly is as old as the published Silm itself. I’ve read Russingon fics that were almost as old as I am, Russingon fics published last week, Russingon fics that vilified the Nolofinwëans, and Russingon fics from the turn of the 21st century when the Fëanorians were seen as uncomplicated villains. Fingon being a cardboard cutout is ubiquitous through all of them. It doesn’t matter how old the fic is, it’s basically guaranteed.

The reason for this is that Maedhros is far and away the most popular character in the Silmarillion, and his pain and angst and mental strife and trauma are front and center in many writers’ lists of priorities. If it’s not Fingon propping him up, it’s Maglor, or another brother, or an OC - this is a very common genre of Silm fic and it’s not limited to Russingon.

But.

This is my least favorite Russingon trope and it’s the entire reason I’m writing Blessed Hands and why all my Russingon fics are at least majority-Fingon POV. I can’t fucking stand it, and it completely kills my interest in a story. I’m super picky with my Russingon fics because of this trope, and because of its ubiquity, and I’ve talked about it on my blog many times before. For me to love a Russingon fic, it has to be about how they anchor and support one another, and how their mutual and equal investment in their relationship is the foundation of their lives. This trope’s not nearly as common as it used to be, thank Eru, but it’s still around, and I cannot talk enough about how I Hate It, lol. It’s also old enough and omnipresent enough that the majority of fics feature it, and - interestingly - the majority of fics also feature white Fingon.

Alongside this, Black Fingon arose out of a non-Russingon intracommunity discussion among the artists of the Silm fandom, in about 2013. I saw this play out in real time on my dash, and so while I can’t source posts reliably, I can promise this is as accurate as I can make it.

The paradigm shift came as a result of content creators realizing that several of their number weren’t white, and quite a few people in the fandom weren’t white, and yet 100% of art and fics featured white elves with zero real diversity (and a number of very troubling, somewhat stereotypical older illustrations of Men as the only significant examples of people of color in Middle-Earth). There was concern as to why this was being accepted as the norm when there was ample opportunity for representing both one’s own ethnicity and other people of color (and a lot of concern about unexamined racism in white artists who found themselves unable, for various reasons, to picture heroic elves as anything but fair-skinned) and the general consensus was that we had more consistent information from HoME draft to HoME draft about hair color than skin tone, so why were we all picturing our heroes as white?

Fingon in particular was headcanoned as black due to a discovery by a fan (whose URL escapes me, sadly) who I’m certain was black themself. There’s a passage in The Peoples of Middle-Earth describing Fingon as wearing his hair in plaits braided through with gold, and this fan made the comparison to hairstyles worn by IRL black people. The idea was that he was the most uncomplicatedly brave, heroic, and noble person in the Silm, and look, he could be a man of color! There was also a sort of gentleman’s agreement to refrain from making explicit connections beyond that to real human ethnic groups/cultures/races. The logic behind this was that if the generic Eurofantasy aesthetic was kept, white artists would be encouraged to draw diverse elves without concern for cultural appropriation, as well as steering racists away from caricature and the ability to twist a well-meaning effort into a stereotypical attack.

When these ideas first emerged, there was a lot of resistance. Arguments were made that those of us who advocated for diverse elves and specifically black Fingon were discreetly accusing other artists of being racist, or were acting purposefully holier-than-thou, or just wanted to start drama. There were some people who claimed we’d attack anyone who didn’t agree with us that elves were brown. This was an exhausting mess to deal with and it was a major part of my disillusionment with discussing racism in the Tolkien fandom - the majority of voices were reasonable people but the minority was loud and obnoxious. I bring this up to say that diverse elves were genuinely progressive and forward-looking in 2013, even when it was more or less explicitly stated that they had no real ties to existing human races and they had no change to their characters.

Black Fingon, agreed upon outside the Russingon fandom, and Fingon the cardboard cutout, the most reliably present version of Fingon in Russingon fic, sort of ran into one another. No real change was ever made to Finno’s character upon making him black - this would have been seen at the time as unnecessary because his character was just fine as-is, and the whole point was that he could be exactly as he’d been before and be black or brown, that men of color had the exact same range of emotion and depth of character that he did when he was perceived as white.

The problem is that there hasn’t been much examination of the idea that Fingon being a black man who exists to prop up a white man is uh. Really racist and kind of fraught.

All I have to say really is that this wasn’t a conscious decision by anyone to be racist - the opposite, actually. As I mentioned above I can’t speak for black people, or for other BIPOC, but my opinion is that it’s an unfortunate and unconscious choice that has nothing to do with Fingon’s race and everything to do with the fact that his character has been seriously neglected for decades now. It opens the door to a lot of really frustrating tropes and plotlines that smack fans of color in the face with how bigoted they are, and it’s something that I’m glad is being discussed, if only because I’ve been trying to push for a reevaluation of Fingon’s personality and general role for a long time now (though of course I’m also glad that this is actually getting acknowledged as a harmful thing real people now are at risk of doing).

My solution? Same as ever - “write Fingon like a real person with interests and desires and goals of his own, and treat his family like they matter, and flesh out the world he lives in. Listen to people of color if you’re white, educate yourself regardless, and learn to avoid harmful tropes.” If that becomes the fandom norm? I’ll be a happy Absynthe.

#replies #anon replies #RUSSINGON #absynthe's meta

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ephemeralityonline · 3 years

Text

The Last American Hero in Liminal Spaces (1/1/21; A review of the James Ferraro bootleg "Deleted Schemes")

James Ferraro is an American artist with a heavy emphasis on both "American" and "artist." His work often invokes the feeling of all things fake and uncanny in current American capitalism. Whether it be the movie set desert of Speed or the faux leather sheen of God of London, Ferraro is always trying to capture the essence of certain scenes in a post-Google world. However, it is impossible to properly convey his artistry in just one project. Ferraro is simultaneously self-parodying while staying deadly serious about the subject matter. He insists none of his work is ironic and all of it comes from a genuine place which is surprisingly believable. To say his work is purely satirical would take away from a lot of the nuance in some of the music. While tracks like "Trapped in a Hummer" and "Fidget Spinners (The Anthem)" have an obvious tongue-in-cheek nature to them, they don't feel cynical or holier-than-thou. Purely from a sonic standpoint, there's no denying James' range as a musician. With everything hypnagogic-pop/rock to RnB to ambient to rap, sometimes blending all of these genres together, he is able to maintain his signature style. Through the use of this compilation, the listener is able to not only see the blindingly joyful beauty in "☺ Earth Jump" but the vacant nightmare that is "God of London" as well. Despite "TV Lobotomy" being a lo-fi rock track and "Xerces Blau" being an ambient soundscape, they both contain a distinct elegiac quality about them. The shocking thing is that despite the compilation being mostly experimental music, there are some legitimately catchy and well-written moments all throughout, begging to be discovered in this almost nine-hour experience. In an old interview, Ferraro said this "Far Side Virtual mainly designates a space in society, or a mode of behaving. All of these things operating in synchronicity: like ringtones, flat-screens, theater, cuisine, fashion, sushi. I don't want to call it 'virtual reality,' so I call it Far Side Virtual. If you really want to understand Far Side, first off, listen to Debussy, and secondly, go into a frozen yogurt shop. Afterwards, go into an Apple store and just fool around, hang out in there. Afterwards, go to Starbucks and get a gift card. They have a book there on the history of Starbucks—buy this book and go home. If you do all these things you'll understand what Far Side Virtual is — because people kind of live in it already." While this quote was specifically about Far Side Virtual, I feel that it can apply to all of his work in the way he evokes emotions. There's a consistently post-ironic and contemporary feeling that makes a connection better than most traditional music. With each section, there is a unique style that falls under the aforementioned post-ironic digital ennui. The greasy cathode TV advertising fresh KFC (Brainteaser). A sleazy gas station selling dick pills and sex toys (Xerox Kamikaze). Plastic jungle props in a kids museum (Urban Avatar). A gun store in a cheap GTA clone (100% Rain). Some creep hanging at a nightclub when almost everyone has left (Trapped in a Hummer). The view of a chilled NYC skyline from all glass office (Imported Snow). A commercial for a cheesy RnB album during a national tragedy (Coked Sentinel). Copaganda in a beloved sci-fi film (Hollywood Pretender). Gacha games stealing your data (Pollution Techniques). Second Life avatars reaching nirvana (First World Decay Systems). While these are all my own personal interpretations of what the different sections evoke, the soundscapes (and in some cases lyrics) were potent enough for me to come up with such specific imagery. This is the first review I've done without a score. I usually think ratings are a good way to summarize your enjoyment of something into a symbol that is immediately recognizable but this project is so nebulous that by rating it, some of the magic will disappear for me. I can tell you my favorite sections were Imported Snow and Urban Avatar but I plead that you try a little bit everything.

I highly recommend this compilation whether you're already a fan of Ferraro's work or trying to get into him for the first time. Words can't describe some of the emotions in this compilation, listen to it.

Originally posted on my RYM account.

#james ferraro #music

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 3 years

Text

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Israel Often Reproved (Amos 4:4-13)

Amos probably was a Judean. He was a small farmer and shepherd. He cultivated a few sycamore trees whose fruit was lightly esteemed. He owned a little flock of sheep, sheep of a peculiar breed which yielded an excellent kind of wool. He pastured his sheep in the wilderness of Judea.

Bethel, the ecclesiastical capital of the Northern Kingdom, was the principal scene of his preaching. "Go to Bethel and sin!" cried the prophet. Bethel was their place of worship - but every time they came there, they sinned because their worship was sin. Instead of bowing before the true God and adoring Him, they bowed before idols and gave them the honor which belonged to God alone. The more devout they were, therefore, the more they dishonored the Lord. Their great zeal, as shown in their sacrifices and tithes and free-will offerings, only multiplied their sin and heaped up sorer judgment against them. "Go to Bethel and sin; go to Gilgal and sin yet more. Bring your sacrifices every morning, your tithes every three years. Burn leavened bread as a thank offering and brag about your freewill offerings - boast about them, you Israelites, for this is what you love to do!" declares the Sovereign LORD." Amos 4:5-6

Their religion was all a pious farce, and the more there was of it - the more of an abomination it was unto God. God cannot be pleased with mere forms of worship and with ceremonials. The more we multiply these, the more do we grieve Him - if our heart is not in them. We may say we have no idols now in our churches; but are we sure of this? Do we truly worship God in our church services? When we sing the hymns, are our hearts fixed upon God? When we pray, are we really talking to God? When we confess sins, is the confession sincere? When we sit in God's house, are we truly in God's presence, breathing out our heart's love and worship to Him? If not, what or whom are we adoring, praising, worshiping? Empty religious forms - must have some idol at the heart of them.

The prophet told them very plainly what was in their hearts. "This is what you love to do!" You love this! You love to make a great display in your religion. This display of piety - is just to your taste. You like to cover up your sins - with forms of worship, appearing as saints before the world, though in secret cherishing and practicing all manner of wickedness!

This is God's own picture of these ancient 'worshipers'. We need to look honestly at it - to see if it is OUR picture. God looks at the heart! No external appearances are of any value - unless they are genuine expressions of what is in the heart! Pirate ships carry reputable flags to cover their dishonorable character. Religious hypocrisy often puts at its masthead, the colors of devout saintliness. But God cannot be deceived.

Someone told of past sorrows, sorrows which were sent with blessing, messengers bringing good in their hands - but which were rejected, turned away, resented as enemies, though they came as friends. When we sin against God - He sends penalties. Suffering always follows sin - but these penalties come to us really as friends, to save us from sinning again. God had sent penalties to the people of Israel - but they had not minded them. "I gave you empty stomachs in every city and lack of bread in every town - yet you have not returned to Me," declares Jehovah." The Lord had not let them alone in their sins. He had not merely allowed them to go on in their evil ways, without any effort to save them. In these verses we learn of judgment after judgment which God says He sent upon His people.

First there was "empty stomachs" - famine, lack of bread. Next He had withheld rain from their land. To make it yet more clear to them that the hand of God was in this withholding, He had caused it to rain in one place and not in another, so that while on one piece of ground everything was green and fresh, on another piece near by - all life was withered and dead. Then He had sent blasting and mildew, hot winds and blight, to destroy what the drought had left.

After these, He had sent palmer-worms to eat up the vineyards and gardens which were watered by artificial means and thus escaped the previous judgments. Having thus destroyed their gardens and crops and vineyards, He had then sent a plague upon the people themselves, sweeping away many of them. War had followed pestilence, and their young men had been slain. After all these terrible things, an earthquake had come, overthrowing and destroying many.

There are lessons here, which we must not lose. We must not misinterpret God. No doubt some of these people, when pursued by trouble, said that God was hard and cruel and unkind - to send so many losses and sufferings upon them. So it seemed. But here we are permitted to look into God's heart - and see a motive of love in all these sore troubles which He sent upon His people. They had gone far away from Him, and He would bring them back again. One affliction failed, and then He sent another and another and another. These sore troubles were all God's angels of love sent to try to save God's children. We ought to fix this lesson in our hearts, for some time we may need its light.

One came to a pastor with sore complainings against God. He had been most unkind, even cruel, he said. The pastor listened to a recital of a long series of bitter experiences - disappointments, sufferings, hardships. It certainly seemed that if these were God's doings - they were strange expressions of love. But the pastor questioned a little further, as gently as he could, and he learned that his friend had not been living near God during the time of these troubles, and had not been brought nearer to Him through the things which had seemed so hard - he had indeed been drifting farther away all the while, out into the wintry cold of unbelief and rebelliousness .

We may not interpret providences, saying that the history of this friend was the same as that of these ancient people, whom God had chastened to save - but who only went farther away from Him. Yet there is no doubt that the design of God in all His severe dealings with His children is the same - to bring back those who have wandered, or to bring still nearer those who are already near to Him. It is always love, never anger, that comes in the messengers of divine chastening .

"Yet have you not returned unto Me! says the Lord." After each recital of judgment, comes this same sad refrain. God had sent famine to bring them back. "Yet have you not returned unto Me!" He had withheld rain. "Yet have you not returned unto Me!" He had smitten their grain with blasting and mildew, and the palmer - worm had eaten up their vineyards and gardens. "Yet have you not returned unto Me!" He had sent pestilence and war, with terrible loss and devastation. "Yet have you not returned unto Me!" Earthquakes had caused terror over the land, laying much of it in ruin. "Yet have you not returned unto Me!"

This recurring refrain is infinitely pathetic. It sounds like the sob of God's breaking heart. It tells of wonderful love in Him for His people - in spite of all their sin; of love that forbears and waits and pleads and suffers on, never wearying in its efforts to save. It tells, too, of love's sorrow - when the erring do not return. It speaks of divine disappointment when even sore judgments fail to bring back the sinning children. It is a wonderful revealing of the heart of God. No one who catches its meaning, can ever again say that God is cruel or unkind in sending troubles upon His people. He wants to save them - not to hurt or destroy them. We learn, too, what we should always do when any chastening falls upon us; we should get nearer to God! No matter how holy our lives may be, there is yet a holier holiness, a nearer nearness, attainable. If we are conscious of specific sins - we should put them away. We disappoint and grieve God when in any chastening, we do not return unto Him.

God reminds the people of how mercifully He had dealt with them. "You were as a brand plucked out of the burning ." This is a striking figure. In the overthrow, probably by an earthquake, some seem to have perished. Those who escaped were almost destroyed, coming out of the overthrow injured, barely saved. They were like a brand, a piece of wood, which has passed through the fire, and has been plucked out, not burned up altogether - but scorched and blackened, partly burned, bearing the marks of the fire upon it. The picture is very suggestive. Sin is a fire. Wherever it touches it burns, scorches, wastes, consumes the beauty. Secret sin is like hidden, smoldering fire, which, unseen - yet eats away the life's substance and defaces the divine image that is on it.

What fire does to the trees when it sweeps through the forests, blackening them, destroying their leaves and all their greenness; sin does to the lives about which its flames flow. We all know lives, once lovely - but now scorched and blackened by sin. If sin is like a fire, human lives are like trees which the fire consumes. Every one of us has been hurt by this fire. Unless plucked out by some hand of love - our lives shall be utterly destroyed by the flames of sin which roll over all this world. But the burning brand may be saved.

A gardener saw one day in a pile of burning rubbish, a piece of root that was blackened and scorched, partly charred. But he plucked it out and, taking it away, he planted it, and it grew. It proved to be the root of a valuable species of grapevine, and in a few years the vine springing from it covered a large arbor and in the autumn days hung full of rich purple clusters. Saved lives are brands plucked from the burning. Thousands of them shine now in blessedness, redeemed from destruction, clothed in beauty, covered with the fruits of righteousness and holiness!

#Devotional Hours Within the Bible #Israel often Reproved #Amos 4:4-13 #J.R. Miller #May 18 #2021

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flirting-with-psychology · 3 years

Text

[zombiebandido]

Can you recommend any Neil Gaiman to me, aside from Stardust or Good Omens? I cannot

What’s the best concert you’ve been to, if you’ve been? Idk, I think I’m just not huge on concerts

What’s the funniest screenname you’ve ever seen? i-run-with-scissors-to-feel-dangerous

Is there an animal you like that most people don’t? Don’t think so

Is there an animal that you think is overrated in terms of how it’s liked? Goats or cows, maybe

Is there a time period you think is underrated? Not really

What about music? Showtunes

Do you find yourself listening to music that’s a bit more esoteric? No

What are your three favorite books and why? Harry Potter because of the worldbuilding, Mistborn because of the worldbuilding and characters, A Confusion of Princes because it is a fun standalone book

What about authors? Idk, I mostly like specific books Do you have any likes you wouldn’t tell someone until you got to know them? Nah probably not

Do you have a favorite language? Not really

What about a place you’ve always wanted to visit? Ireland

What’s something someone does or says that just makes you laugh? Idk, it’s usually situational

Do goldfish crackers ever make you sick, or is that just me? No?

Do you have a favorite art style? Probably realistic

Do you have a favorite myth/fairy-tale? No, sorry I’m being boring with this quiz

Who is your favorite person aside from family? Probably my bff

Do any of your pets (if you have them) have weird quirks? My cat was just very emphatic

Do you listen to music from anywhere besides America? Not really

Have you ever “quit” a site and came back to it more than once? No

Do you have an “odd” fascination with anything? Dice

What is the thing you want most at this moment? An interesting job and a return to normal from the pandemic

What was the last book you read and what was it about? I’m currently reading The Martian about an astronaut stranded on mars

What was the worst book you’ve ever read & why? Walk Two Moons because the twist ending fucked me up

Do you have a favorite breed of dog or cat? Which? Golden retrievers

If you like any anime/manga, what are some titles you recommend? I don’t really like it

What do you think about school in general? I thought it was interesting and I wish I could go back

What’s the hardest thing you’ve been through, & what did you learn from it? Maybe the braces. Dk what I learned from it

What are three “unrealistic” things you want most? An interesting creative job with steady and high pay lol, the lottery, the good place experience from The Good Place

What are some of your favorite foods? Pasta, chocolate, cereal. I am a simple girl

Where do you like to buy your clothes? Kohl’s, Macy’s, and thrift shops

Do you take any daily vitamins? When I remember

Who are three of your favorite fictional characters of all time? Kelsier from Mistborn, Sirius Black from Harry Potter, Raydan Lykel from The Crown and the Flame

If you had to give the world a pre-existing mythological/fictional being, what would it be? Idfk

When buying Slurpees, if you do, do you get only one flavor or mix them? Mixing is fun

Do you have a favorite 7Eleven food? No

Do you have any desire to learn (a) foreign language(s)? Which? Not strongly

If you could have any career, “realistic”-ness aside, what would it be? Something in film maybe

What are three memorable movies from your childhood? The Little Mermaid, Harry Potter, Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper

Do you, personally, put a space after ellipses, or not? Let me check... do I? I guess I do

What do some of the things that inspire you have in common? Making things

Micky D’s sweet tea, y/n/other? No

What are three of your best (non-physical) qualities? Creativity, honesty, smarts

What are three of your worst (again; non-physical) qualities? Stubbornness, anxiety, lack of empathy

What is one of your firmest beliefs? I don’t really have firm beliefs

Do you ever question things until you’re unsure of even the silliest thing? Yes

Do you have anything that keeps you from doing something you’d truly enjoy? Anxiety and procrastination, and money

What are your three biggest pet peeves (personality-wise) in others? Holier-than-thou people, acting like you’re too cool for fun, being unsafe

Do you work to fix your faults? Or at least, admit to them? I admit to most of them but I’m not so great at working on them

What are three of your best physical qualities? (NOT EYES!) Why not eyes? Other than that, I guess hair color, boobs, singing voice (at least I’d like to think so)

What are some of your greatest aspirations? Do something fun, have a good social life, see what I would look like in my prime

How do you hope the world will change, if at all? Get done with the pandemic, stop having capitalism be so shitty

Who are three (fairly known) people you find very intriguing? Taylor Swift, Voldemort, F. Scott Fitzgerald

What are three things that make you the happiest? hanging out with friends, crafts, cuddling with my boyfriend

What is/are your view(s) on god, religion, spirituality, or relations to? I don’t believe in them

Are you arachnophobic or scared of spiders in the least? YES

Do you play WoW? What do you think of it either way? No, I am just not that into video games

What kind of computer do you have? Windows 7/Vista/XP/Other? Macbook Pro

What are you good at? Crafts and school

What career do you hope to have? Something creative

Are you taking any interesting classes in school/do you not attend? I’m finished with school but I wish I could go back

If you don’t attend, are you taking any “lessons” for anything? No

A book/piece that has had an exceptional impact on your life? Harry Potter

If you know of pandora.com, what is your favorite station? I haven’t listened to pandora in ages

Have you ever “lost” a friend in any way? How did you deal? Some just faded away but some actively ditched me and I tried to find out why

Any music recommendations? Showtunes

What are at least three of your biggest fears? Spiders, living a mundane life, covid right now

Most recently read book that you liked? A Confusion of Princes

Do you have a piece of jewelry you don’t like to take off? No, I have so many that I like to alternate them

Do you have a favorite quote? Why is it your favorite? Carpe Diem. Haven’t lived it much lately though Any odd pastimes you have? Making lists and charts

Are you quirky in any way? (Name them please). My fashion sense especially in high school, the nerdy things I do

Have any practices you aren’t opposed to but wouldn’t do yourself? Probably a lot, I’m generally of the live and let live mindset

Political standing?

Left

Do you have any piercings/what do you think about piercings? I just have my ears pierced

Do you have a favorite material? I’m a fan of soft materials like suede or velvet, also metals like copper and silver

What are three names you’d name a pet if you HAD to get a pet right now? It depends on the pet

Do you like to listen to dorky/amusing music? Idk

Coffee vs. Tea vs. Energy Drinks: Order from favorite to least favorite. Tea, energy drinks, coffee

Do you like more “fruity” sweets or “savory” sweets? Fruity unless it’s chocolate

What do you hate the most? Spiders

What genres of music are your favorite? Showtunes

Do you believe in true love? Idk

Do you believe in love at first sight? If yes, why? No

What are some of your favorite clothing accessories? Jewelry

If reincarnation exists, what sort of person would you want to be next?

One of those outgoing guys that always has adventures with his friends What are some things you believe strongly in? Idk

Where’s your favorite place you’ve been? London was pretty cool, also Italy

What sort of books and movies do you like? For books: sci-fi, fantasy, dystopia. For movies: rom-com, sci-fi, musical

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Saturday? Idk, just stay in

Is there a book you’ve read that really touched you? The Great Gatsby just because I related to Gatsby a lot

Do you have a favorite artist? Taylor Swift

PC or MAC? Mac

What do you love doing? Crafts, shopping, board games

If you could create the perfect world for yourself, what would it be? Basically just the good place from The Good Place. Unlimited time and resources to learn and try things without pressure to make money off it

Do you think that fate plays a part in people’s lives? Not really

Are you religious, spiritual, atheist…? Atheist

What are your opinions on the media? The media is a very broad range of things

Do you think that people throw the words “love” and “hate” around too much? Idk

What is your favorite piece of technology that you own? My laptop

What’s a piece of technology you’d like to own? I have what I want at the moment.

Are you afraid of technology developing to where we’re too reliant on it? A little bit of getting to the point where a lot of jobs get replaced with AI, because instead of making lives easier like they could be, there will just be a huge unempolyment problem that our stupid capitalist society won’t solve

Does it bother you when people do things to fit in with a certain crowd? If it’s not what they want to do

Hot or cold? Cold Do you think that Bzoink should extent the character amount for questions? I don’t use Bzoink

Do you have a favorite combination of complimentary colors? Maybe green and pink

Do you know why all the young people who have nice cars always look grumpy? I don’t think I’ve noticed that

What’s your favorite odd ice cream flavor? Lemon Sorbet or Coffee Toffee Bar Crunch

Where do you like to get your ice cream? Haagen Dasz or Ben and Jerry’s

What’s your opinion on stereotypes/labels? Idk

Do you ever use random word generators for Bzoinkoids?

What?

Do you believe that history repeats itself? It sure seems like it is

Would you rather learn from your mistakes or just undo them? Learn from them

What was the most interesting class you had in school? My words and music class in college Do you write? If so, what? I used to write poetry, I sometimes come up with stories but I don’t really write them

Do you have a favorite website? Tumblr and Etsy

Do you think that the quality of TV shows is going down? No, there are usually good ones to discover

Do you have a favorite culture? Maybe Celtic. I just like the art patterns What was a story you heard as a child that really affected you? The Headless Horseman scared me a lot

Who was your favorite grade-school teacher and why? My third grade teacher and my 6th grade math teacher

Do you think that the world will end? How? Probably in a few billion years when the sun turns into a red giant

Do you believe in Global Warming? Have you researched it? Yes but I haven’t researched it

Do you prefer piercings or tattoos? Tattoos

Do you remember your dreams? Sometimes

#survey

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oneweekoneband · 3 years

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Scrambles

To me, at least, this is the big one. I originally listened to BTMI!’s discography in chronological order, but if I was trying to get someone into them right away, I would probably tell them to listen to Scrambles first. As a collection of great songs, as a coherent album, as a testament to what BTMI! could achieve, it’s my first pick by...well, not a long shot, considering I love a few of their other albums almost as much, but I will say that it always comes out on top in my rankings.

Of course, there’s a lot of personal bias here; Scrambles came to define my high school experience in part because of its regrettably-relatable lyrics that convey an all-consuming anxiety and frustration with the world around you. That might seem like a strange thing to experience nostalgia for, but for better or worse, that is exactly what it invokes for me.

It’s a cliché that high school is a stressful time – though I think people who say that tend to be thinking about the pressures of trying to “find yourself,” “fitting in,” gaining autonomy from parents, etc. I’m not saying that those things didn’t concern me, but for some reason my anxiety about the future was running something like a decade ahead of me. And so I found myself imagining a future in line with fears about what might happen if I followed Jeff down the path of “Stand There Until You’re Sober” – unable to move forward in life “’cause I can’t grow up.” The songs on Scrambles took this kind of stress one step further, and I found myself identifying with the chorus of the Springsteenian anti-anthem “Fresh Attitude, Young Body”: “If you don’t find a steady job now, / If you don’t find someone to love now, / Oh, you will die freezing cold and alone.”

Is that ridiculous, for a high school kid to be thinking that far ahead? I still don’t know. Capitalism puts an absurd amount of pressure on people to decide what they want to do with the rest of their lives from what feels like a young age, and I was facing a serious dilemma that a lot of musicians face: I wanted to try playing in a band for a living, but I also wanted to have some kind of stable future...and unfortunately, these two things rarely go hand-in-hand. So I worried a lot over whether I would be able to make the right choice for myself; would I move on with my life and get a job that I probably wouldn’t like, forever resenting the fact that I didn’t choose music? Or would I choose the music and watch my life fall apart because I wouldn’t be able to earn enough to gain any kind of independence, still living with my parents like the narrator of “25” (which is, by the way, one of BTMI!’s catchiest-ever songs) at 25 years old? Many of the songs on this album perfectly capture that tension, which I think extends beyond my own specific situation – anyone who’s felt the crushing pressure of a hegemonic system coming down around them, whispering threats of a future spent scrambling to catch up with their peers in their ears when they can’t sleep at night can probably relate to the lyrics of this side of Scrambles.

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There’s the personal angle, but then there’s a social/political one (which wasn’t entirely without personal meaning to me – but I’ll get to that in time). “9/11 Fever” mocks the ultra-patriotism-turnted-opportunistic-exploitation that so many American engage in for the anniversary of the terrorist attack. And while that’s the most overtly political song on the album, plenty more go for the throat on issues in the politics of the punk scene. “Stuff That I Like” rides a killer riff as Jeff skewers the “fucking cocaine parties” that “fucking freak him out” (another gem later on: “I gotta take a piss in the cocaine room, / What is this? The line for lines? / It’s a long line for lines.”), as well as the “booming bass and the shitty DJs” of the clubs. The song ends with a condemnation of the limited possibilities of “going out” to “have fun”: “The gates rise up like / ‘What’s up? You’re in prison, confined by alcoholism / And lack of better decisions for having fun on the weekends.’” “Gang Of Four Meets The Stooges (But Boring)” attacks bands that purport to be on the “cutting edge” but have no respect for the other bands they share a bill with.

Best of all is “(Shut) Up The Punx!!!”, a mile-a-minute monologue from Jeff on the fucked up “holier-/hipper-than-thou” attitudes that make the punk scene look bad from the outside set to one of the band’s most frantic ska-punk freak-outs. The lyricism in this song is really on another level – take just the second line in: “When we all march to the beat of the same different drummer, / The steps start to come off like clockwork.” And for all this wordiness, Jeff somehow manages to make the phrasing fit rhythmically into the song, using the intensity of the music to emphasize key parts, eg. the swelling of horns leading into the descending breakdown that matches “I’d rather be vomiting and I despise vomiting and BLECH!” The chorus sums it up: “This non-conformity feels like conformity, / Why should anyone believe in our community? / This organization doesn’t feel like anarchy ‘cause / We’re suiting up to have the same identity.”

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My love for this song is intimately connected with my feelings on the state of punk rock circa my time in high school (and the first couple years afterwards). Jeff mentions in the notes on Quote Unquote that this song is about “a very small portion” of the punk community that he’s met, and I believe him, but to this kid who spent his adolescence stuck in the Canadian capital Ottawa, an unsurprisingly hostile environment to the development of a healthy punk rock scene, it feels like this song was about every second band I’d heard of. The too-cool-to-care hipsterism of the early 2010s was in full swing at that point, and many kids I knew had fallen into that attitude. And the musical tastes and scenes followed suite. There was a bizarre amount of implicit pressure to identify a band with a specific sound or scene, adopt a particular fashion sense or way of performing that played to audience expectations within a certain genre. But in spite of all this, I felt like I couldn’t just sit and stay angry about it; the dismal state of affairs was also a cry for help, a call to action to change the way things were. That’s why I love the fact that “(Shut) Up The Punx!!!” is more than just a stream-of-thought criticism – the lyrics were inspiring to someone like me who felt disillusioned with the very scene they aspired to be a part of: “Smile big, hug bigger, talk big, act bigger, / Stop judging do something, shut the fuck up do something!”

There’s the personal anxiety angle, and there’s the sociopolitical angle, but some of the best songs on Scrambles just do a great job of capturing specific feelings. The lilting “Wednesday Night Drinkball” (which feels a bit like a sequel to “Stand There Until You’re Sober” both musically and lyrically) starts with a great example of this: “There’s nothing less fun than being exhausted / From hours of not doing a damn thing at all.” “Saddr, Weirdr” is a reflection on the loneliness of moving, which, while packed full of wacky percussive noises and bells, also contains a rather poignant observation that always gets me: “I just threw out another gift, / I know it had a bit of thought but / Mary we won’t talk soon, / I have no use for Crocs now, / And I have no use for gifts.”

“Sort Of Like Being Pumped” closes out the album by putting one of those feelings that can be hard to describe into words. On a quiet, muted guitar accompanied by a rather beautiful (if you can believe it) banjo riff that phases in and out of the mix, Jeff describes one particular moment at the end of a workday when he watched the sunset from the train home. In addition to the simple but important sentiment conveyed about appreciating brief moments of happiness, the song also once again demonstrates Jeff’s knack for the killer phrase, the one line you can repeat until exhaustion: accompanied first by Laura Stevenson’s harmonies, then exploding without warning into a blistering punk outro, we hear over and over again the chorus that stresses that one brilliant instant, a seemingly never-ending build-up to the climax as if Jeff is trying to drag it out as long as possible, maybe make it last forever: “When I saw / When I saw / When I saw / When I saw / When I saw / THE SUNSET!”

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#Bomb The Music Industry!#BTMI!#Scrambles #Punk #Punk rock

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smells-like-ink-and-fire · 4 years

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Innocence died screaming, honey I should know

Here’s the thing: For all his talk of Gotham being a life-sucking, happiness draining shithole, leaving it had never been truly an option on Jason’s mind. It was his shithole of a city goddammit, the grim dirt streets he would die on. It was his home, the blood on his veins. This city had its claws deep into him, and leaving, especially leaving never to return, had been simply impossible, did not compute to him.

Especially now, that Jason was getting along better with the Bats these days. He still didn’t, and never would agree with Bruce regarding his no-killing rule. But things were better, or at least he thought they were. His presence was expected and even accepted. There were some awkwardness and silent nobody knew how to fill, but there were also jokes and eating junk food together after patrol. Sure, there were a lot of snippy comments but he made those too, gave as good as he got, and Bruce still didn’t quite trust him, not to the extent he did with the other, though that was just a given, he had made peace with it, he still killed, after all, a little suspicion was an acceptable price to pay for it.

Self-righteous, holier than thou bat.

Still, there was an uneasiness on his chest whenever the pointed looks got too much when they would start questioning his actions and his plans like he hadn’t been trained by the world's greatest detective like the rest of them and League of Shadows on top of that. Forgetting that Jason had effectively taken control of the East End in less than two months, and without any of them noticing.

The good parts didn’t lessen the rage-hurt out when Barbara sneered at him, acting like he couldn’t be trusted in the field, like the fact he had issues, that he cared about the victims because he had been one made him incapable of being rational, turned him into something that was eternally compromised. Like he was a mindless raging monster, who would shoot to kill at mere provocation.

He had been, once, fresh out of those green waters, traumatized, angry, afraid, and replaced. He had been a child, too, didn’t that count for something?

Their veiled accusations of insanity, that he had a problem, that needed to be handled like he was a fucking dog, the angry gremlin claims that he was unhinged and the only reason that they kept him around was to keep an eye on him, it all made Jason feel queasy, made him feel less than human.

It made him wonder how truly welcome he was. Was he welcome or they were just trying to appease their guilt and keep a loose cannon from the streets?

But there were undoubtedly good things too. Moments that made it worth it. His relationship with Steph and Duke, and surprisingly, Replacement was getting better, even though the first two were not around as much as he would like. The nights they had spent chewing off some of the undoubtedly brilliant but assholes teachers while demolishing mountains of homework had been fun, and Replacement-Tim was quite a sass master, now only if he could convince the kid to take a step back from WE so that he wouldn’t have a heart attack before he could drink legally.

Replacement, however, was why he was here. Here being diner on the border of the Bowery and Robinsonville, The Raging Duck, a new place that Golden Boy wanted to try, make a family bonding experience out of it, Jason was sure. Replacement had twisted his way around with words in a shape that made it impossible for him not to come. His saving grace was that Jason had already made clear that he couldn’t stay long, under the pretext of having to verify that month payments collection from the Bowery.

Which was goddammed good thing because this whole outing had been a mistake. The last couple weeks had been rough, with the stress of studying and writing applications for his master degree, the couple of murders that almost led to a gang war between the Falcone and the Russians, plus a decoy staged by the Riddler, as his newest scape plan, that had taken too long to crack leading to an accident that had killed three people and would have killed a lot more if Jason hadn’t said fuck and put bullet holes on some goons heads. This in turn led to an inevitable argument because of Batman's continuous incapacity to see the necessity of his actions while on some level recognizing that was the only poss0ible decision meant that tension had been higher than usual.

Therefore, putting everybody in a room together was definitely not the best idea, Dickie! The last ten minutes certainly proved so, what had started as an easy-going conversation about their early on mishaps of the field, which included a hefty number of stories where the main theme was “And then I said Fuck Batman – With varying degrees of success” that had started as a split-second change of subject in order to avoid a fight breaking out, had turned into passive-aggressive attacking Jason. The worst part was that Jason wasn’t even sure they were doing on purpose.

Did the even realize he was sitting right next to them? Or was he just a ghost?

“… and then the fantastic Robin fell three stores down only to be needed to be saved by the incredible Spoiler! So, listen to me kids, if you’re going to say fuck Batman you should at least be sure there is something to break your fall before you jump.” - Steph finished the story with a flourish, going back to her waffles.

“That was a level of stupidity that I wasn’t aware that you were capable of Replacement. Really, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.

“Please, as if you weren’t the first one to ignore an order just to fuck with B, Jason. There’s a list. The Incident with the Falcone. Killer Crock latest scape. The entire shit show that was last week. – Tim shot back, mulish, poking at his fries

And every single of those missions was a raging success.

“Which is the one involving Babs, back when she was still BG, you know the one she always mentions, because I don’t know what you did dude but she’s still pissed at you for it.”

“Oh, I know! Bruce forced them to work together on that one, it was a drug-smuggling operation that involved kids. Jason jumped in instead of waiting for her signal. Needless to say, it did not end up well. Babs was so very pissed.”

Yeah for the assholes that thought using kids as drug mules was a good idea. BG was just made the street rat had a better plan than her

“Is that why warehouse 25F is a gory, burned-out mess?”

“Nah, that came later, during that corruption case that nearly put the Comish in the hospital. Or maybe it was the one involving that Nazi Arts dealer?”

“Is there a difference? They always end up in unnecessary explosions. Todd’s need for dramatics and overuse of force are well documented”

Because you can talk about overuse of force, demon spawn.

“Robin. Less explosions. Trying to help. Hurt.”

“Yeah, he was trying to help Cass, nobody is denying that the thing is Jason desire to be a little shit and prove Batman wrong is way stronger than his drive to help people, and even though there were far less explosions back then, both he and innocent people have gotten hurt.”

How you’d know? You weren’t around back then Dickface.

“So, we can agree that it’s basically a Pavlovian response for him at this point. Your stubbornness and desire to say Fuck Batman no matter the consequences have been able to surpass death Jason, and if that it’s not a feat, I don’t know what is. Congratulations, really!” – Steph summarized.

He had been holding up fine until that point but he just didn’t have the strength to it anymore, every word out it Tim's mouth felt like the blow of crowbar shattering his ribs, chocking on his own blood because a Batarang slashed his throat. He felt faint. He felt dangerously close to crying.

“I have to go.” – Jason got out of his chair.

“Jason…” – The pitying and yet reproachful note on Dick’s voice made his skin crawl.

“I said I couldn’t stay very long. Some of us have stuff to do. You know criminal empires to run, places to blow up, kneecaps to shoot.” – He doped a twenties bill on the table.

“Todd. Cease being childish. Just because you are unable to accept your failures, and the fact that you were incompetent and arrogant enough to be captured by an enemy does not mean you should incapable of accepting constructive criticism.”

“Not being childish gremlin. I do have a criminal empire to run. And I do take constructive criticism, preferably from people who know what the hell they are talking about. You know people that are more than the “blood sons” of people that are greater than themselves. Noise midgets, not so much. Bye.” – Jason out of the dinner before any of them can reply.

See you never again.

He doesn’t know how he gets back to his closest safe house. It’s a reasonably good one. He likes this one. He focusses on the things he likes. Hardwood floor. The light green paint. On the things, he doesn’t. The shitty heating. The fact that the cabinets doors don’t shut all the way.

Breaths. Slowly. In and Out. Counts to three hundred. Breaths again.

The tears still prickle on his eyes. His chest feels hollow. His throat is dry. He doesn’t have the strength to move from where he’s sat on the floor, his back against the door. Going a few rounds with Deathstroke had hurt less. It certainly never made him want to crawl under his bed and stay there until the world forget he existed. Of course, Slade had also never blamed for his own death.

Even though his own father had. Reckless, overly aggressive, incapable of following orders, loud-mouthed Robin that got what he deserved, Bruce had said. Maybe not to his face but he had said it. Then again it had been his fault, hadn’t it?

He takes a few more breaths, tries to push his emotions back, locking them deep, and walks to the fridge, pours himself a glass of water. Drinks it. His mind goes back to the conversation. The glass shatters in his hand.

“Oh, fuck!”

He goes to the sink, to clean his hands and throws the broken glass into the trash. Lucky there were only some minor cuts that don’t need stitches even if they hurt like a bitch.

Take that universe!

Still, he wraps them in bandages since he doesn’t fancy cleaning blood out of his sheets. Sleep, however, doesn’t come easily that night, and the time he doesn’t spend tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position to follow to try to fall back asleep in, he spends waking up from dreams that leave him feeling like he’s constantly falling, sharp terror waking him each and every time.

There is no rest for the wicked though, and so he takes off by late morning and goes to check o on the rest of the gang, makes sure Antony is running things smoothly. All in all, it’s pretty boring, with enough paperwork to make a bonfire, but it does the job of taking his mind out the things for a while. Patrol is uneventful, which is a welcome respite, and Jason doesn’t do much more than stop a few muggings and beating up some creeps.

During that time, he keeps an ear out for the bats, especially Dick since he’s not anywhere near the mood to listen to another of the boy wonder lectures about how “Damian is just a child; you shouldn’t take what he says seriously”, especially those came with the addition of being delivered in that tone that screamed, “even though he’s right”. But he must have gone back to his turf because he sees no hair nor hide of him or any of the others.

The next two nights are very much a repetition of that first one, with little sleep and little action, so much so that a paranoid and exhausted part of him gets a bit terrified and so he ends up calling Roy just to hear the genius talk about whatever crazy project he’s been working on lately. If the redhead has any idea why Jason is calling him at four in the morning, he doesn’t comment on it and simply talks until his friend's breath has even out.

This way when the sun comes up the next day, Jason drags himself out of bed and heads straight to the shower, the cold water helps ground him back into his body. Still feeling like shit but at least knowing the difference between dream and reality he eats his breakfast while checking his messages and it’s more than a little bit shocked to see a text from Bruce asking, as in there is an actual please in it if they can talk about a possible case with a few crossed wires. There’s even an invitation to stay for dinner alongside with it, which makes him wonder if Bruce hit his head a little too hard the other day, or if Alfred finally made good on his promise of finding a drug that made him less emotionally stunned.

No matter the cause, the message leaves him hopeful enough that he answers with a yeah, I’ll be there by five.

He arrives at the Manor door fifteen minutes past five, just in case, greeting Alfred with a smile that the old butler easily returns. They make some small talk as the older man demands him to at least drink a cup of tea before heading down. Still, they part at the entrance of the cave and Jason takes those final steps alone.

“Sup, old man?”

“Jason.” – Bruce answers, his back turned, typing at the bat computer, probably filling some reports.

“C’mon B, you’re the one who called me unless of course, you somehow have been possessed and that please was you asking for help, in which case, give me a second and let me call the Martian Manhunter, you gotta give a bit more of information.” – Jason kept his gaze on Bruce’s back, his breath steady, he was not rambling thank you very much!

“There been some talk about an escort service in Diamond District that works as a front from money laundering. I think you might know some of the girls.”

“Little bit out of my way. Maybe you should check with Cat.”

Bruce’s eyes were shining, and the line of his mouth meant that he was finding it funny and Jason was filed to the brim with a wave of warmth and nostalgia. It made him feel like a kid again, it made him like Robin again, like magic.

“Maybe we should.”

“Oh gross! Let’s go back to the ever-existing cases of corruption and gross old man please?”

“Isabella McGarvey”

“Know the surname. Any relation to Ophelia McGarvey?”

"Her older sister I believe, records show that she moved from the East Side two years ago but didn’t take her sister with her because she was a minor…"

Most of the afternoon passed that way. With the Batman and the Red Hood checking financial records, discussing disappearances and police reports in an amiable tone, full of teasing. It was a welcome change of pace being the one providing the answers to all-knowing Batman for once. So, he took his time explaining the inner workings and the shady dealings of the Alley, preening at the attention and the approval, something he would deny until his second dying day.

Perhaps the only dark spot in the otherwise bright day was the fact that Jason kept purposely having to avoid looking at the southeast corner of the cave, at the glass cage that seemed to hover over them.

Refusing to acknowledge that some part of Bruce would always believe he was dead

“There maybe be a loose end might be worth exploiting but I don’t know how long that window would be open: There was a shooting, a few days ago, near the Bowery and Robinsonville, no cameras, three dead, the assailant left no evidence behind.”

“Don’t know what to tell you Bats, last time I was there I was with your kids, didn’t hear anything, neither did mine. I mean, I could ask but this is Gotham, murders are pretty much the norm. Unless those guys are part of something bigger, I got you nothing.” - Jason shrugged, already calculating the possibilities of why this is relevant and coming out with nothing.

Damn all-knowing paranoid bat.

“They were. Trafficking ring. Middleman.”

“There is no trafficking ring in the Alley”.

Of that he’s certain.

“There is not. Because those men were killed before they could take anyone. But they were known for it, and they were asking the sort of questions that could ping on your radar.”

“Well, I haven’t heard anything. I’ll make sure to pay more attention, update some protocols.” – Jason answered, already planning to investigate it.

If they were acting as a middleman for someone roaming around then that someone would send more to scoop the territory out and he would be prepared when they came, regardless of what else could be there. There were no trafficking rings in Alley.

“Or maybe you did and decided to take care of it your own terms”

The abruptness of the question was so earth-shattering that he took a few steps back to regain his balance.

“Jesus Christ Bruce if are gonna accuse me of murder you could at least have the decency of start with that. No, I did not kill them. If any of mine did I haven’t heard of it. But as far as I’m concerned is no great loss.” - He succeeds at sounding nonchalant and enraged, hiding the fact that the question felt like a bucket of water, leaving his cold and shaking.

So, this is why Bruce actually called, so he could question Jason about his latest failure, his latest disappointment in Bruce’s eyes. Of course, it was, and he was a fool for ever thinking otherwise. For letting himself hope that Bruce was trying, that he wanted to rekindle the relationship they had when Jason still wore those green panties.

“Where were you at 2:30 in the morning, three nights ago?”

“What?”

Please god, everything but this. I can’t do this again

“At the time of the murder, where were you?

“In a dinner with your kids.” – Jason’s voice was nothing more than a whisper as if all the air had been pushed out of his lungs.

Why you don’t believe me? Why you don’t trust me?

“Damian said you left early, earlier than that, because he got home at 3:00. It takes at least half an hour to get here from there.

“Safehouse a few blocks away, then. Sleeping. Bruce, please”. – Jason was begging now, voice raw and full of hurt.

“Can you prove that?”

"The hell is wrong with you?!? I already told you: I. DID. NOT. KILL. THEM. When have I ever not taken credit for the people I’ve killed?"

“What’s going on?”

And of course, because his luck could not be worse, that was the Perfect Grayson coming down the stairs. He could feel the headache forming behind his eyes. He did not want to deal with this shit right now.

Was it too much to ask for the ground swallow him whole?

“Nothing! Bruce’s just spent the last five minutes pointlessly accusing of murder! Can you get the fuck out so we can continue discussing it?”

“You were near the scene of the crime, you have a motive, the means, and a history.”

“Wait you killed someone?”

“No! Keep up, Bruce is just being a dick, you know like you usually are.”

“Is a valid concern”

“Is a piece of shit that is what it is!”

“Can someone please explain?”

“Bruce thinks I killed three people after I left the dinner the other day.”

That what you did after you left? It’s that what you meant by shooting kneecaps? Jay… I know that you were angry but this…

“Jesus Fucking Christ Didn’t I just say its bullshit?”

“You said that?”

“It was a joke”

“You have motive, means, no alibi and now your brother is telling me that you left because you needed to shoot someone. What do you want me to believe?”

“THAT I WOULDN’T LIE ABOUT IT!”

“If you were planning only to main them, if your anger got the better out you, as it has before if you did it out impulse, and is trying yo hide it.”

“You know what Bruce? You’ve already made up your mind so I will do us all a favor and get myself out. You can’t trust me? Well, I can’t trust you. From now on there will be no bats at the East End. If you are seen, you will be shot. That’s how trigger happy I fucking am!”

He pushed passed Dick and Bruce, the world was tingled with pit green glow, his ears were roaring, no sound, only rage, and loss. Every step he took was calculated, his breath was short, measured. A of violence ready to blow up at the mere provocation held together only by the barest threads of sanity and humanity and the training Ducra had given him. Roy’s voice babbling at him. Kori’s booming laughter. Kyle ridiculous art. Donna’s everlasting sass and warmth.

Somehow, someway he made home without turning Gotham into a bloodbath, and the relative he felt at activating the security protocol was fastly overtaken by fear. He hadn’t had an attack like that in over three months. Hadn’t let the Pit burning so strong in his veins in so long. Hadn’t felt that disconnection to reality since his early days out of the Pit.

Just the idea of what could have happened in case he lost control made Jason grab the nearest bucket and puke. He stayed there, pressing the palm of hinds to his eyes, heaving.

It didn’t matter, because it didn’t happen.

His phone rang, and if it was anybody else calling, he let go straight to voicemail, but it was Talia’s ringtone and she didn't call jus for kicks, so he presses answer.

“If I told you I didn’t kill a man would you believe me?” – Jason blurts out before he can stop himself, red coloring his cheeks as he realizes what he just said, cursing himself for his stupidity.

“Of course. Why would…I see.” – Talia’s face goes from neutral to confusion and finally anger in a matter of seconds. – “Your father does not know you at all Habibi, and that, rest assured, is entirely his fault. He’s too caught up in the image he made of you to be able to see you as truly are.”

“Batman being a stunned idiot, who can look past his own reasoning of the world? What an earthshattering idea T! – Jason says sarcastically trying to cover up his earlier emotional outburst. - Anyway, got a reason for calling?

“Do not play coy with me, Jason, it’s unbecoming. Regardless, I do not believe Gotham has done you good. Moreover, I do not believe your father's actions towards you have been in any way helpful to your recovery and growth.”

“What are you? My therapist?”

“I would not be against for you to see one, but I would not force you either. Your choices, as always, must be your own. Besides is my understanding that to be effective therapy must also involve privacy. Another thing that its unlikely to come by if you are to remain here.

“Gotham needs me. The Alley needs me, God knows the Bat can’t handle this shit, they don’t care and even if they did the Alley would never trust them” – It wasn’t as much a rebuttal as it was an excuse

“They do, but you are of no use to them if you are constantly emotionally compromised by the rash and thoughtless actions of those who do not understand you and do not seek to. Loyalty is a gift that must be not be given lightly and they make ill use of yours while reaping the benefits of it. Perhaps it’s time for them to learn how to much you do for them. The absence does make the heart grow fonder.”

“You’re telling me to leave.”

“I’m telling take a step back. You’ve done tremendous work, but there’s more to you then violence. The petty criminals and drug dealers and the pimps are all properly terrified, your minions are capable enough that they can keep your operation running without your direct involvement. Rest. Recover. Come back when you are ready. Besides, you do have your master’s degree to consider, don’t you?” - Jason blushed, Talia wasn’t one to give compliments that she didn’t mean, and she did have a point, but…

But what? What did he truly have here? It had taken less than ten minutes for Dick convince Bruce, based on nothing more than a few throw away words Jason had said when he was angry and hurting, that Jason had killed a man and once that decision had been made no amount of evidence would make Bruce turn around in his favor. The others probably already knew what had happened and just as likely had decided to stay away from him from now on. After all, if he couldn’t take a little teasing without blasting someone’s brains out then he was certainly no better than the crazies in Arkham, to them.

What Talia was offering has the peace of taking a walk without being judged by the path he chooses to walk on, let the dust stele until bygones were bygones and he could look at Dick’s- Holier-Than-Thou face without breaking every single bone in it.

What did he have to lose that he couldn’t take back later on?

“You do realize that this will take quite a bit of work and resources, right? – Jason could almost see that pleased little smile of hers spread on Talia’s face.

“You do realize who you are speaking with don’t you Habibi? Let’s get to work.

#first chapter #Criminal Minds #Jason Todd #fanfic #Im so nervous #Go check on AO3'#Im sorry for the delay #Spoiler: Jason is a Sad Boy in this #But he'll get better #Xover #Spencer Reid shows up in the next chapter #Worry not #im very proud of myself #ive written

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