#and I'm afraid that in the future event that we ever really do create a sentient artificial construct

[hera-the-shoggoth]

Smashing the robot in the name of copyright law is not revolution, it's reaction. It is the atavistic response of a person who doesn't understand that technology is a morally neutral thing wielded against the people and not an enemy that can or should be fought for its own sake. Capitalism exploits artists and forces all people to compete with technology for a wage. That, not machine learning, is what is causing art and artists to suffer.

lions are very mean and like jellyfish

[kitsuvil]

— plus one 【picturesque/ayato smau】

【 masterlist 】 there is a written portion here after the first 6 photos!!

“I know I said I'll cling onto you the whole event, but I didn't expect to actually be forced into doing that,” I grumbled as my grip on Ayato's tan suit jacket grew tighter. “It's so crowded…” Before I had the opportunity to react, my hand shifted away from the cloth texture and was replaced by the feeling of cool and gentle skin. “In that case, I believe holding my hand will prove to be more effective," Ayato chuckled. I highly doubt anything like that will make this more effective. If only a great technique to raise my heartbeat, but a heart attack is not what we're aiming for here. We weren't at the event early, but I wouldn't say we were late either, so the number of people already here was astonishing.

"Is there a corner with fewer people we can rest at?" I peeked out from behind Ayato's shoulder. "There should be. Come with me," he began to move forward through the crowd. I had no choice but to be dragged along, though it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I had expected. He already knew his way around these events, so it made sense that I would look like a lost dog in comparison.

"I almost regret agreeing to come with you." A pout showed up on my face as we finally found an area against a wall that wasn't so densely populated. "Don't worry, it's only like this until everyone gets situated. However, if you want to leave early at any point, just let me know. This is a lot for someone's first time at an event like this." The smile on Ayato's face felt like honey, so much that it almost made me forget why I was overwhelmed in the first place. "I just have to remember everyone is here to bond over photography, and then I'm golden... I think."

"You think? Haha," Ayato chuckled, covering his face with his palm as if he was pretending he didn't find my misery funny. "Hey," my pout grew ever stronger. "It's okay. I understand. There were days when I thought the older photographers were going to maul me like a pack of aggressive bears. Of course, I was only in my late teens at the time. It takes experience, which is why I'm willing to let you hold my hand through this... There was nobody to hold mine when I was alone trying to pave my path through these crowds."

I stayed silent for a moment. There was plenty of time to ponder over his words later, but I couldn't help chewing my lip over them now. It was a reminder that he wasn't so different from me, regardless of our status or position in anything. We were both just photographers, and we happened to become friends, too.

"I remember when I first started taking my photography classes at the Uni. It wasn't too unlike what you're describing now. I was seated next to someone who worked so hard that I thought my brain was going to explode when I peeked at their computer screen."

"But isn't that similar to you now? Working so hard to create a photobook, pushing along through your classes, balancing everything your heart desires. I'm sure even [Name] from the past worked equally hard."

"Then it seems both of us are ever-growing and tweaking our skill," I turned my head to face Ayato instead of the various tables with food I was staring at in order to avoid making eye contact with the man next to me. "Why did you really take me here, instead of your sister or one of your friends?"

"What I already told you is true. I think it can open a lot of doors for you. It might be slightly selfish of me, but I want to make sure your goals are ones you can achieve. Because your future matters to me in that aspect."

Just as quickly as my mouth opened to respond and question Ayato further, it went closed again. There was a crowd of people heading over at full speed now that the event was finally settling into place. Perhaps now wasn't the right time for this conversation. I tried to back away and distance myself from Ayato as the people grew closer, afraid of getting in the way, but I didn't get far before I felt a tug on my hand. By 'not far', I meant not even a single step away.

"I thought you wanted someone to keep the anxieties at bay? Don't say a word about the people coming over, I'll handle them. You only need to listen and stick close, [Name]." Ayato's hand was closed on mine, squeezing it so that I couldn't leave, and the smile on his face never faltered. Neither did his attempt at pulling me closer towards him. So he was serious. Right. The whole reason for me being here was to become comfortable with this community, so it makes sense for me to stick around.

But why was he so painfully insistent, and why was his grip on my hand so comforting, and why did his cologne smell as nice as it did? Why did his voice echo through my skull like smooth water running down a creek? Why was his proximity to me like a warm blanket on a winter night, even when he was the one who pulled me so close when I tried to step away?

"So you all have been gossiping about who I choose to bring to my events like it's any of your business? However, if your interest longs to be satiated so strongly, this is a close friend of mine who is working on diving into the photography world. Treat them with as much respect as you would with me." Ayato was beside me, but for most of this interaction, it sounded like he was miles away. To jump into something as large as this, I felt both thrilled and privileged. But I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat that was fear of too much eyes on me, anxiety that my talent wasn't good enough to even be here.

"Would you like some refreshments? We have sparkling wine, as well as tomato sandwiches personally made by our gourmet chef." The staff member brought my attention back to reality as they offered me a few treats from a platter. "I'm alright, but thank you." I shook off any remaining negative thoughts that were floating around with a deep breath. That was when I realized half of the eyes around us that I originally thought were staring at us with critique and judgment were actually giving looks of bewilderment, almost like they were admiring gazes.

"Don't they look like a power couple?" Two nearby women's conversation faded in through my ears. "I see it. The way Mr. Kamisato is holding their hand... There's no way they're not a couple, right?"

Okay. Maybe not the conversation I want to be eavesdropping on. I tried to grab my hand and shake it away from Ayato's, but it was to no avail. "Is there something wrong?" He looked back at me after waving away a photographer I recognized as the creator of one of the photobooks I had at home, sitting in my dorm room. "No, I guess not... Just how high popularity are some of these people?..." I mumbled. "I think the fact I'm here says enough," Ayato silently laughed, regaining his posture quickly after.

"Can't believe I forgot you're the infamous Kamisato Ayato, pfft," I laughed as some of the pressure dropped off my shoulders. "Only to the majority of people here. To you, I'm just Ayato."

Maybe it wouldn't be too much of a pain to get used to this.

— ruptured appendix situation still going strong but i had to bust out this chapter LOL hopefully the written portion serves as a little treat bc i'm gonna cry myself to sleep if nobody likes it /j, i love it and that's all that matters. ayato is so hot.

— taglist; @griseoo @fangygf @calamitygutz @driftwoodmanor @meigalaxy @kyon-cherri @xiaossocksniffer @quacking-simp @kaitfae @imgayandshesanime @lxry-chxn @ni-ki-ismyluv @cante-lope @kookiibun @kamisatoyato @astolary @dontmindtheevie @sn1perz @0range-juiceee @h3xi2g0n3 @eutopiastar @samyayaya

[raccoonpaw-net]

We Don't Have Enough Time

This is a personal story and some reflections I had about these events.

Your best friend calls you. You two haven't talked in two weeks, catching up has become less and less frequent. You normally place the blame on the fact you're both twenty-something.

You pick up the phone and greet her with the usual:

- Hey Trixie! - made up name for privacy's sake - How are you? - Horrible.

Usually this kind of dry and negative answer is paired with sarcasm or a pinch of hyperbole. But not this time. Over the last two weeks a lot happened, too much happened. Her cat died. As she is talking to you she is on the way to her grandfather's funeral. And her mother, the mother of your best friend, was diagnosed with cancer a few days prior. She does not know what to do, and you don't know what to say. And in the dreadful silence that takes place after hearing these news, all you can think is:

How much time do we really have?

I have been on a hiatus since July, both creatively and socially. Since then I have gone back to therapy, and what began as a journey full of sadness and self isolation has now become a depression diagnosis and a battle against time to find who am I and what time do we have.

After the phone call I couldn't help but remember of a week in 2012, when a friend invited me to his uncle's country house. I was pretty nervous in the beginning but the following three days were some of the best of my life. But one thing I remember very clearly was his uncle, who was always drunk, but he is the kind of guy who gets funny when he drinks, and in one afternoon while he was watering his plants he looked at me and said:

- You... You look like a cowboy! - He sprays me with his garden hose - I'm gonna call you... Bill!

Ever since then my friend his whole family calls me Bill, I find it funny how such a random event became part of our little culture.

In 2023 this uncle said he was feeling too weak to take care of the garden in his country house. Not too long after he discovered he has stage 4 cancer. Now, he decided to enjoy whatever time he has left by doing what he loves with the people he loves by his side. The man who is such an integral part of such a fun memory of mine is fading. And I don't know what to do. 

She whispers.

However, that phone call was a wake up call, and it finally made me understand: For a moment in the beginning of this year (2023), there was the very real possibility that my father could die. He had a aneurysm that doctors could only describe as a "ticking time bomb".

Our whole family was immensely worried, people who hadn't called in ages reached out, prayed for us, and offered help afraid that the worse could happen.Luckily, after two weeks and a twelve hour surgery, he was free. But, to me, it took more time than that to process what happened. We worried he could have died during the surgery, we worried he could have died during the two weeks of waiting, but never worried about any of that before discovering he had a problem.

I didn't know what to do, until it hit me:

One thing is knowing you're going to die. But KNOWING you're going to die is a very different story.

Death is not obvious in our day to day lives. It doesn't hunt us down in the form a wolf, nor is it a grim reaper. Death whispers. And as gracefuly as things are created they are taken away, but we are too proud to accept that. We are too arrogant, thinking we always have one more day to live and too little time to reach out to a friend.

So call your loved ones. Life goes by so quickly, and who knows how much more time do we have? If only I could protect the people I love in the realm of my dreams. But I can't, it's not up to me. So care for those you have near you. Not in fear of death, but as a celebration of life.

And in a prayer that we both will have one more day... I finish by hoping to...

See ya in the near future!

🌐Original blog post

[toyingwithafalsegod]

Both your darkest fears?

🧸 I have found I am living it.

I grew up a genius orphan among an entire orphanage of them. For security reasons I will not reveal what this is, however this might be the only thing about me that you would be able to figure out with decent online research skills.

But, anyway. Our goal through our experience at the orphanage was to become the person best suited to succeed the first L in the event of his passing.

As such he was treated as some level of a higher being. Not a god, but definitely someone akin to a president or king, even a pope. He felt untouchable, in a way; certainly he was a figure of everything we should aspire to be.

My image of L first was tarnished of the news of his death. It’s logical that one day he would have reached the end, however I had assumed that even a case as complex as the Kira one would be easily solved for him. But he lost.

For five years after, while having a less bright view of L, he was still this figurehead of right. Yet the accounts of the Japanese Task Force—who all worked with him—reveal a darker undertone onto this golden statue.

Or, as one put it: “He was an asshole.”

Maybe I wouldn’t have seen this reveal as something so terrible if L’s death didn’t also result in the loss of Mello and Matt.

Mello—a fellow orphan of whom I had a complicated relationship with—idolized L even more than I did. He was resentful that I appeared to be better than him at “being L” and was proud when he knew things about L that I didn’t.

He left the orphanage shortly after L died to prove himself. Matt, his best friend, seemed a little lost after he was gone. That was truly when we started to bond—he began to step up security protocols for my usage as I continued the Kira case.

Years later, Mello, still trying prove himself with Kira’s defeat, asked Matt to help him kidnap someone suspected of having Kira’s power.

Matt was shot and killed by multiple officers. Mello died shortly after in a fire that I suspect was created by Kira. By Light.

More than anything I hate him for that.

Now I am alone. Do I have my team? Yes, and I am grateful for all their efforts and I am happy they still stand by me even after the case closed. I am still also able to antagonize Light, however it is not as enjoyable as it may seem.

When I was younger, I never deduced a future like this could be possible. Now I wish I regarded this possible outcome with much more trepidation.

—

🌙 What do I fear, you ask?

Fear is a strong word.

Fear that drives others to either insanity or determination of use. A tool. A tool to scare away the scary monsters.

We use and live with the fear we face alone, and only alone.

Me? My Biggest Fear?

I'm afraid of Losing. Losing to the very faith of my hard work and goals, to succeed of what I truly wanted to become. My competition against L, my rival, my enemy...

And I really lost, to Near... I still lost against L. Even though I originally beat L, and knowing he was gonna die... the game was never over until Near and Mello tried to ruin me.

But now since I'm here... not dead, but alive.

I'm living around that fear. My darkest Fear I can't ever escape from.

[dfnkt]

So the "green revolution" is just gonna be neolibs destroying South America for lithium as it becomes increasingly uninhabitable huh. It looks like the game plan is basically, fuck those mountains and those forests and the HUGE carbon sink potential it has if we'd stop deforesting it. The Panama canal is gonna dry up? Guess we'll just build a highway across the fucking continent like we always wanted to anyway.

Can't wait to see how America treats all the climate refugees at our southern border that WE created. 10k people a day or more some days at present. Picture hundreds of thousands and then millions as crisis looms and remember how our government handles people in need, regardless of whether its the red dictator or the blue dictator. Consider how both parties already weaponize fears about immigration using "displacement" or "loss of culture" or lack of available resources aka artificial scarcity. And then fucktuple that and tell me that genocide Joe is gonna make things better. Tell me that the American nation can get exponentially more radical and survive. We will be at full scale war and brazen occupation of South America probably by 2040 if I had to ballpark it, but we'll see. South America will basically resemble USNATO prison camps and military states. I can already imagine the justifications we'll offer about making trade possible in the region, curbing "terrorism" et cetera. Basically we'll do exactly what we did and are still doing to the middle east.

Gonna be fascinating. I get more sure that I'm going to witness the fall of modern civilization in my lifetime every year considering we cannot survive a 2C+ climate, but we can't avoid that climate without such extremely rapid degrowth and rewilding that it is only theoretically possible in human manpower. Like, our best case scenario is basically "if the whole global economy shifted overnight and everything was severely kneecapped especially for the most gluttonous capitalists corporations by a really huge factor then we have the *chance* at having a habitable planet for humans by 2100, albeit at a reduced population and with a smaller habitable zone for the foreseeable hundreds of thousands of years." And every single day is a case of "we should have done this a day/year/decade/century ago". Meanwhile emissions are rapidly increasing at exponential rates. The political will does not exist to save the planet. Even if we made all the right changes now, we are already locked in to changes that will reduce the quality of life of everyone on this fucking planet in the lifetime of every Gen Z and younger, and most millennials, even in wealthy nations. We may well already have signed the commitment for as much as 4C or more degrees of warming by 2050. Guess what doesn't exist at +4C? The global capitalist economy. New iPhones. Oh, or vertebrate mammals. That's you. Your mom. Your dad. Your best friends and future children. All the food you eat and everything you've ever loved. Why are we not acknowledging that we are being thrown off the cliff like Disney's lemmings?

I feel like I'm insane, living in a parallel reality. We should be shutting everything down. Nothing matters more than this. We should, quite literally, be shutting the world down in order to save it. Nothing else will. You can thank neoliberals for pushing this disaster off of capitalism and onto people's "personal carbon footprint". None of my friends can talk about this subject because they are just all too afraid, which I always respect. I don't know anyone else familiar with the science of things either, so I have no one really to commiserate with about the profound grief of watching the world end. Even if I get to live out my natural lifespan, I will witness some of the most horrible atrocities that mankind has to offer. We all are witnessing that right now. If you don't think climate change could be an extinction level event in your lifetime, then you should really seriously evaluate what kind of life you want to live and then live it while you can. That is all any of us can do anymore.

[serenescribbles]

all those words i can't say Part 3

For Maribat Bio Dad!Bruce Wayne Month Day 9: Discovery

Special thanks to Mic for beta reading this chapter! They aren't my usual beta reader, Emily, as I already asked them to beta read something else for me and I don't want to overwhelm them. Thankfully, Mic stepped up to the task and was awesome!

Okay. Before any of you say something, yes, I know September is almost over. Yes, I know I haven't really posted any actual things. Yes, I am going to be carrying this over (and more Bio Dad Bruce stuff that I had wanted to do) into the unforeseeable future.

I should've planned things out more but I didn't and now I'm suffering (not really) because of that. And honestly, school is just terrible.

That being said, I really can't promise any consistent updates because I have school so yeah.

For now, please just enjoy this chapter and the ones that will follow (not that I know when).

CW: Swearing, Mourning for the Dead

AO3 | Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

一

“You一 you’re my father?!?”

Marinette couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be happening right now.

She had felt so incredibly embarrassed when the lawyer had interrupted the two of them while she had been crying. And she had been even more embarrassed when she’d learned it was Bruce Wayne who she’d been crying all over.

For kwamis’ sake, she had gotten snot and tears on his suit! It was probably stained because of her! Would she have to pay for the damages done to it? Maybe she could offer to design him a new suit.

It had been hard, finding the motivation to design and actually create things, but Marinette had found it was a good way to let all of her emotions out. Namely, the ones that had to deal with Adrien, Kagami, and her parents.

But she hadn’t actually had the chance to make anything. After all, all of her stuff had perished when the bakery her home had collapsed.

Everything she’d ever owned, gone, just like that. But at least the Miracle Box was safe, as Marinette had thought it was a good idea to take it with her if she needed to call on extra help during the battle. Thank Tikki for that.

Though the Miracle Box was indestructible, it would’ve been hard to explain just how it had managed to remain intact if it had been discovered from underneath all of the rubble.

Marinette shook her head slightly.

The reason she couldn’t create any of her designs was because all of her designing supplies had been destroyed, including her sketchbook.

Had she not saved all of her design ideas digitally just in case she ever lost the real paper copy, it would’ve been all over.

So, even if he did take her up on her offer of making him a new suit, it wouldn’t exactly be easy to explain to him that she didn’t have the proper supplies.

Marinette didn’t know what she was supposed to do. And for that reason, from the moment the two of them had gotten inside the lawyer’s office, she looked straight ahead, refusing to look at him.

She was afraid if she looked at him, she would start bursting into tears again and ask him for forgiveness.

But that couldn’t happen right now. It was already embarrassing enough to have unknowingly cried on the Bruce Wayne’s shoulder and gotten snot on his suit and she wasn’t about to make it worse for herself.

And then the lawyer took out the paper copy of her parents’ will and Marinette almost lost it right then and there.

She could hear the lawyer talking, but his words went over her head.

Her maman and papa’s will. Their last wishes. What did it say?

But she couldn’t focus on what the words actually said. All she could do was refamiliarize herself with her maman’s elegant cursive and her papa’s spiky scrawl.

It had been so long since she had seen her parents’ handwriting on paper and it felt like she had a piece of them again.

As her eyes began to trace the loops and curves and spikes of her maman and papa’s handwriting, Marinette barely heard the lawyer say, “To Bruce Wayne… in the event Marinette… still a minor… we would like it if you were… her guardian until… 18.”

No! This couldn’t be real! How could he be her guardian?

Bruce Wayne. A billionaire. The very same billionaire who had just been patting her back and hugging her minutes ago.

How did her parents even know Bruce Wayne? He was… all the way up there while they were well… down there!

But the fact her maman and papa were willing to entrust her to a total stranger was terrifying!

Who knew what kind of crazy secrets he was hiding! What if he had some top secret underground lair where he carried out all of his nefarious deeds?

Hey, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Hawkmoth, anyone?

How was she supposed to trust he wasn’t some evil person that would pretend to be nice to her on the outside but then turn around and hurt her?!

No! That couldn’t be possible! Her parents wouldn’t give some random stranger custody of her, right?

Needing to see for herself, Marinette searched for the part in her parents’ will that said who would be granted guardianship over her.

And sure enough, she had heard the lawyer correctly. Bruce Wayne was to be her guardian until she turned 18.

Marinette felt like she had just taken a punch to the gut. Why was this happening?

But then she heard a tiny voice in the back of her head nag at her. ‘Keep it together, Marinette! Don’t fall apart now.’

Right. If Bruce Wayne really was an evil person, it wouldn’t do for her to make it easy for him to read her face, right?

All she needed to do was disguise her true emotions so he’d think he had her fooled.

It was easy, wasn’t it? To mask her emotions and act like she didn’t have a care in the world. Oh, she had so much experience with doing that.

Don’t think about anything. Don’t let him in. Don’t let him know. Be the good girl people always thought you were. Conceal, don’t feel. Make one wrong move and everyone will know.

Just then, a somewhat thick envelope was plopped down in front of her. Marinette stared at it.

Her name was addressed on it: “Marinette Dupain-Cheng” in her papa’s spiky scrawl.

Grief welled up inside of her.

Part of her didn’t want to open it. She didn’t want to read it. Because deep down inside, Marinette knew that if she opened that envelope, it meant that she was accepting her parents’ death, and she wasn’t ready for that.

But another part of her pushed her to pick it up and read it. That part of her wanted to know what it said. What her maman and papa’s last words and wishes were.

And that side of her won.

Quickly darting out a hand, Marinette snatched the envelope off of the desk and stared at it.

Her hands were slightly trembling as she finally opened the envelope.

Taking in a deep breath, Marinette exhaled quietly and began to read the letter’s contents.

She shouldn’t have done that.

Dear Marinette,

Before you continue reading, please know that I will always love you. You are such a wonderful daughter and never forget that. Your mother and I both love you so much and we have always wanted the best for you.

That being said, there is something you must know. Just, please, I hope you won’t hate your mother and I for this.

You see, you are actually not my biological daughter. But you are your mother’s. Your biological father is a man by the name of Bruce Wayne.

The two of them had met a short while before we’d met and things had happened between the two of them, which resulted in you.

But rest assured, by the time I had met your mother, the two of them had already gone their separate ways. We love each other wholeheartedly.

At that time, you were still in your mother’s stomach but I did not care about that. I figured that even if you weren’t my biological child, you would still be the one that your mother and I would raise together.

You would and always will be my daughter.

I loved watching you grow up and experiencing every part of your life along with you.

Please understand that this doesn’t change anything. You are as much as my daughter as you are your mother’s.

You are our pride and joy which is why this saddens me so that I have to tell you this news through a letter.

We would’ve wished to tell you personally when you turned 18, when you would be able to understand, but if you are reading this letter, then that seems to not be the case.

It breaks my heart to know that as I write this, there one day might be a strong, young girl reading this after dealing with the loss of her parents. And I try so hard not to think about it, because I want to hope that we will always be there for you no matter what but sometimes, what we wish for doesn’t always come true.

But please, my darling little girl, the you who has come so far, know that you are loved, and always will be. Know that even if the world is dark for you right now, someone will soon be there to show you light.

It just won’t be your mother or I.

I love you so, so much and know that I will never stop loving you, even if you aren’t my biological daughter, and I know that someday, you will grow to be a beautiful, determined woman even if I’m not there to see it.

Love, your father

“You一 you’re my father?!?” She blurted out.

Marinette couldn’t help it. It was just, so surprising. And the utter shock of all of it must’ve been what caused her to blurt that out in the heat of the moment.

But she was still so very embarrassed when both the lawyer and Mr. Wayne, because that was what she was going to call him until he told her anything else, turned to look at her.

The lawyer seemed to be in disbelief but Mr. Wayne just had a serious look that unsettled her in some way. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to divert her gaze.

Mr. Wayne opened his mouth to say something, but then he hesitated and closed it, before opening it again to say, “Yes, Marinette, I am your father.”

So he had already known. He had come to this meeting knowing that she was his biological daughter. He had known who she was when he’d comforted her while she cried.

She一 she needed to sit down and so she did.

What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say?

Mr. Wayne seemed to understand her troubles and he sent a quick glance to the lawyer, communicating something.

The lawyer nodded in agreement and the two of them began to leave the room.

Right before Mr. Wayne left, he said in a gentle voice, “Marinette, take a moment for yourself. I’ll be outside in the waiting room if you want to talk,” and then he closed the door.

For a while, after everything had quieted down, Marinette simply sat there. She brought her knees up to her chest and held them tightly.

Gently rocking back and forth in her chair, all she could do was reread the letter her papa had written to her.

Marinette一 Marinette wanted to cry right now. She wanted to sit there and sob until her throat couldn’t take it anymore.

She wanted to go back to her younger years, where she would be running around in the park and fall, and start to sit there and cry, but only until her maman or papa would rush over to make sure she was alright and kiss it better.

She wanted someone to come and fix everything. But no one would do that.

No one would do that for her ever again.

There should be some kind of process one should go through when they find out their parent is who they actually are, right?

Some sort of procedure, or instructions on how to deal with something like that.

Her whole entire life was a lie.

Everything she had ever known to be true was actually false.

Marinette’s bottom lip started to quiver and her hands started to ball up into fists.

She wanted一 she wanted to get angry at something or someone right now. She wanted to punch a wall. To let all of her emotions out. And Marinette imagined herself doing just that.

The wall would be so impacted by her strength that there would be a dent in it. And it would start cracking, breaking into tiny pieces until eventually, the whole wall collapsed.

But she wouldn’t do that. No, she was the good girl. The one who never got akumatized. The one who never lost control over her emotions. The one who never acted out of anger.

So she wouldn’t, or rather couldn’t punch the wall. For, after so long of conditioning herself to bottle up her emotions, Marinette no longer knew how to healthily deal with them.

But she just一 she was so lost.

How was she going to move forward from this?

Marinette stared blankly at the spot on the wall where she’d just imagined herself punching.

Obviously, she was going to go live with her biological father, but what then?

Bruce Wayne already had children, and even a biological son.

Who was to say they would be warm and welcoming? Especially the biological son. Adrien had told her about him when he had met them at a gala, before Adrien had一 before Adrien had一

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Not now, perhaps never. It was too much.

But Adrien had told her all about Damian Wayne. In fact, he called him a demon.

Apparently, Damian had been living with his mother at first before being sent to live with his father at age ten.

He was very prickly and aggressive and did not like to interact with others. Damian was snooty and talked down to people, as if he had something over them. All in all, he was a little terror.

And Marinette shuddered at that.

If Adrien described him as a demon, then who knows what he would do with her! What if he thought she was trying to take his place? She couldn’t have that!

And what about the other children Mr. Wayne had?

They definitely wouldn’t take well to a new sibling, especially since everything was so sudden.

What if they hated and mistreated her?

“Ugghhh,” she screamed out of frustration.

Why was her life so goddamn complicated?

She was only sixteen. She had never wanted all of these burdens on her back. She had never wanted any of this to happen.

And yet, it did.

She just一 she just wanted something in her life to go right for once. But it never did and never would.

But still, her papa wasn’t her papa. It was some random billionaire who lived in a different country than her.

Part of Marinette really wanted to get mad and lash out at her parents and Mr. Wayne. But the other part of her knew that it wasn’t right.

Her maman and papa loved her so much, and that could be attributed to her papa’s words and the tear stains she saw on the letter.

They had一 they had always wanted the best for her. They loved her. And she loved them back. Biological or not, she was still her papa’s daughter.

And it stinged, that she would never get to see them again.

There would be no more times when she’d be working on her homework in her room late into the night and her maman or papa would knock and present her with a croissant and a glass of milk.

There would be no more Saturday nights spent playing UMS3 or curled up on the couch watching a movie with her parents. Or baking sessions where her papa had her try out his latest creations. Or girls nights where she and her maman giggled and gossipped about things in magazines.

None of those would happen any longer. Because her maman and papa were dead.

She would never experience their warmth ever again.

Oh, ever since their funeral, it seemed like time had stopped for her completely. The days all blurred into one and she stopped remembering even the most important of things.

Her brain and body had just shut down and there was nothing she could, or would do about it.

But besides that, Mr. Wayne wasn’t at fault either. He was the one who was saddled with her now.

She was probably a giant burden for him. He had to rush and make space for her in his family that he likely didn’t want her to fill.

She was unwanted, most likely.

There was a lump in her throat. Marinette tried to swallow it but it wouldn’t go down.

It was none of their fault, just the world’s. And now she was the one stuck dealing with it.

Though she didn’t want to, Marinette brought herself to look back at her papa’s letter.

Her maman and papa would want her to be strong in this situation. So she would try her best to do that.

And even if Mr. Wayne turned out to be a psychopath, she would be able to fight her way out of it, right?

She could escape and run away. She could take care of herself if needed.

So maybe she should just give Mr. Wayne and his family a chance. There was no harm in that. Besides, it’s not like she had anywhere else to go.

She would figure this out. Because as shitty and terrible her life was, it was still her life. She would find a way to make things work, or her name wasn’t Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She had already suffered through so many tragedies. She could take this.

With that in mind, Marinette slowly got up from her chair and moved towards the door.

Her hand wavering in front of the doorknob, she inhaled deeply.

Holding her breath for a few seconds, Marinette mentally prepared herself for what was to come and exhaled. And then she pushed open the door.

In her direct line of sight was Mr. Wayne, leaning against the wall checking his phone and the corners of his lips were slightly curved upwards. The lawyer was nowhere to be seen.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket once he heard the door open and he looked up at her.

Though she was hesitant, Marinette shot him a small, nervous smile.

“Hello, uh, Mr. Wayne, I’m Marinette, your biological daughter I guess.”

一

@maribat-bdbwm

Taglist: @jayjayspixiepop @laurcad123 @ritacrow-blog

I believe these were the people who asked to be tagged. Sorry if I either tagged the wrong person or you asked to be tagged and you aren't listed here.

1. [Mr. Wayne opened his mouth to say something, but then he hesitated and closed it, before opening it again to say, “Yes, Marinette, I am your father.”] At this point, all I could imagine in my head was, "Luke, I am your father," but with Marinette and Bruce. And yes, I know that is not the actual line. It's actually just, "I am your father," at least I think so.

2. [Don’t let him in. Don’t let him know. Be the good girl people always thought you were. Conceal, don’t feel. Make one wrong move and everyone will know.] Frozen reference, anyone?

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hi again! I come to you today with a question that may simply be a continuity error, but I'm still interested in your thoughts! In the main story, le Comte *knows* it was MC that came through the door behind him. Yet in Comte's "One Night, Beneath the Crescent Moon" POV story, he said he "...had no idea of what would happen next... That she would end up using the same door and end up stuck on the other side." What's your take on it? Thanks in advance! 💛

Hiya! First off I wanna apologize for how long it took to reply oTL I had originally drafted a response and then lost it when I accidentally closed the tab, and whenever that happens I always have to like sufficiently mourn the words I lost 😂😂😂

But to answer your question! If I’m entirely honest, I can’t remember what it was Comte said exactly in the Main Story in regards to her entering the door. There could be a lot of explanations for him saying he “knew”: continuity error, him wanting to put her at ease by seeming “in control” of the situation (while he’s screaming internally), or maybe even him wanting to cast some doubt as to whether or not he’s a person that can be trusted (aka the whole like “MC nooooooo don’t trust me I’m a vampire very bad very scary run away” kind of like Leonardo). 

All that being said, given the evidence we have and the stories I’ve read from his POV--esp that Crescent Moon one you referenced--I’m most inclined to believe that he had no idea she would follow him that day at the Louvre. If anything I really don’t think he ever anticipated any human person could follow him through the door? Because remember Sebastian (and the suitors for that matter) only manage because Comte is their escort. Sure their will to live on was strong enough that he could hear them, but they had no capacity to approach or find a door on their own as far as we currently know. The door was closed when MC found it; this suggests that Comte fully closed off that avenue to make sure nobody wayward stepped in by accident. He did the responsible thing and he left long before he could ascertain her safe journey through time, but she still managed to make it across somehow.

That’s why I think MC’s mere existence is earth-shattering to Comte. I mean we have all the good basics: a lovely lady, sweet and hard-working, means well and does her best. And these attributes all do matter, for sure. But the door is perhaps a greater catalyst in their romance than we might have first anticipated.

There will be some semi-hefty JPN rt spoilers below the cut for Dazai and Comte, so I’m just going to keep it under wraps just in case there are people who want to remained 100% unspoiled:

TW: Mentions of suicide in Dazai’s rt

The reason I say this is twofold, based on information provided by Dazai and Comte’s Main Story route. In Dazai’s route, remember that the focal point of the story is that Dazai wants to go back in time to kill himself as a baby so that he can never grow up to write his books or cause anyone pain in the near future--essentially, suicidal ideation to a frightening extreme. One of the main reasons that he fails (though MC plays a significant role in stopping him, too) is that Dazai’s will to kill himself is too weak. In simpler terms, this means that--no matter how much he insisted he wanted to die, the truth of his heart was revealed in his constant hesitating and difficulty going through with it. This is very often a reaction from people who need sizable psychological assistance to overcome trauma; they don’t usually want to die, it’s more that the pain of surviving their experiences is outweighing any possible joy they can find in living. 

But back to the most important part in bold. When Dazai asks about being able to use the door to travel through time, Charles confirms that it’s possible to travel without a pureblood escort. HOWEVER. This type of travel is very, very difficult unless you have an intense sense of willpower. I imagine the implication here is that you have to have an overwhelming desire and firmly believe it’s where you want to be in order for the travel attempt to succeed at all. (I don’t think the tethering point necessarily matters, but there is a suggestion that strong bonds between people--whether platonic or romantic--can serve as powerful guideposts when the door is distorted.) In other words, the reason Dazai relies on Charles’ moral bankruptcy is because Dazai knows he doesn’t feel strongly enough to go through with the suicide. He needs someone else who has the sheer determination and unbending will to see it through when the door opens. 

This is why Dazai is forced to ask Charles to accompany him, even though Charles doesn’t necessarily want to kill him. For Charles, this is less about a desperation to kill Dazai and more about his intense obsession-love for MC, and his willingness to do anything to receive her love/attention in return. In Charles’ view, since MC is ostensibly in love with Dazai, removing Dazai from the picture permanently is ideal. While Charles’ judgement is clouded and a little horrific, he is nonetheless rock steady in comparison to Dazai’s nonstop wavering. Dazai knows that he’s fickle on a personal level; one moment he wants to die, another he’s too afraid to let go of what he does care about or upset anyone. He’s at a point where he doesn’t know what’s right or true anymore and he’s floundering, which is honestly fairly common among those who share his lamentable condition. (Most people don’t have a death wish--it’s more a combination of circumstantial problems and healing that has remained in stasis that constitutes the extremity of that behavior.)

Moving right along, Comte’s route also features a similar testament to willpower, believe it or not. This happens in the last few chapters of the main story. Basically, Shakespeare dumps MC on Vlad’s doorstep and she’s more or less suffering the latter’s monologuing for a good while. Not long after that Comte appears and nearly shoots Vlad in the head, the bullet just grazing his cheek. Comte demands that he let MC go, and Vlad--in a classic sadistic act of compliance--wrenches open the door and just tosses MC into the freefall of distorted spacetime.

Now this is dangerous to MC’s life in and of itself, but there’s a key element there: distorted spacetime. In this main story the door never returns to its normal state after that first month period. Rather, the expanse of the door is too dangerous to be traveled even by a pureblood, let alone a human being. The chances MC will ever be able to escape in order to survive are closer to zero than any other number. Remember that Comte is immortal. If he gets stuck on his own, he can’t die and the damage to his body is always more than able to heal when he’s back to safety. (He even warns Leonardo in Leo’s MS that the danger of getting stuck in some kind of pocket in spacetime is still too significant to be ignored, though I can’t be sure if that’s due to Leonardo’s inexperience with time travel/requirement for an escort, or just an inevitable risk you juggle anytime you travel through the door.)

Of course Comte leaps in after her to try to save her, but presumably their entry point is long gone now (Vlad shut the door), so they’re just kind of floating in amorphous time. They do and don’t exist. Comte is understandably distraught because MC’s life hangs in the balance; if they don’t find a way out, she is almost certainly going to die. Comte admits that--while he hates the fact that his very existence is a danger to her, he still doesn’t regret finding her by any extension. MC protests, naturally, that there’s nothing to regret. Circumstances be what they may, she loves him. 

Now, here is the key. While Comte is trying to think of a way out, MC is thinking hard about wanting to return to the mansion. Her mind reflects an acute, intense desire to return home to the place where they both belong. And wouldn’t you know it? They both suddenly tumble out of the door in the mansion and onto the carpeted floor, whole and alive, sputtering in disbelief. Comte is baffled at first but it can only give way to immense relief that she’s safe, and he just immediately breaks down.

The only reason the two make it out unscathed is because of--I can only assume--MC’s overwhelming will to live on with Comte and return to the mansion. While it would have been natural for her to be overcome by fear to the point where she could make no productive decision, or even humor the concept of focusing on their home, she does it all the same with immediate success. That’s also part of why I think Comte just 100% caves into both of their feelings in the next chapter. He saw firsthand that, not only does MC keep a level head under duress, but she also has the overpowering will necessary to survive amongst vampires. And it was perhaps this unshakeable will in the first place that landed her in the late 19th century all those weeks ago.

It’s interesting because, honestly? Her entry through the door is more or less a hinge point for their romance. While it obviously isn’t the only reason he cares about her, it definitely is one of the bigger reasons he even feels safe enough to court her in earnest in the aftermath. It is literally only after this event that he confesses everything. Why he created the mansion and the men. How he’s really felt about her and himself all this time. What Vlad showed her and the implications of Vlad’s existence. And finally the truth about what he wants. He wants a relationship with her, but he keeps being held back by the fear that he’s too much. That the demand of being by his side will outweigh any happiness she might find choosing him. (Granted MC and I find that preposterous given how attentive and considerate he is, but you know). But after seeing her pull off surviving Vlad and traveling through the door by her own willpower again? I think it sufficiently lessens his doubts as to whether she could handle a future with him. It gives him the courage to just ask her: Do you want a future with me? Can you handle the demands of a vampire that cannot accept a mere human lifetime to be in love? 

And so this is why I have unceasing Comte brainworms ladies and gentlethem. I need to go lie down before I start crying again, I love him oTL

[viktorkoolla]

The Batman (2022) Review

The Batman flies high over any doubts held in anticipation of the films release! Pattinson is the perfect weird choice for the role, the tone is consistent and the movie presents the most complete Gotham ever brought out on the big screen. It tells an intense detective story that almost* never fumbles its mystery elements, and raises the stakes every time it needs to. In it's 3 hour run The Batman asks fascinating questions like 'What is it to be Batman?' and 'Is Batman bad, actually?'. This angle is what the franchise has needed for years.

Still, somewhere inbetween the great performances, beautiful world design and fresh ideas, the movie begins to feel less like a movie, and more like cutscenes and cinematic gameplay from the newest, coolest addition to the Arkham game series. I found myself wondering: When do I get to play?

Don't get me wrong: the movie's never boring, just painfully long**. Even though I enjoyed myself and wanted to find out what happens, I found myself checking my phone to see how much longer it would be before I could leave, and imagine being in The Batman, rather than watching it. With so many of the events happening at the same locations, between a tight set of characters working on multiple intertwining quests at the same time, it's really no wonder I started to crave holding the controller. This of course is also a huge compliment: I love the Arkham games, and for a Batman movie to give me the same level of connection to the world and characters of Gotham feels so refreshing. The tone of the movie matches that of the series, going for a classically gothic, yet grimy and gross view of Gotham, like the decaying corpse of a vampire***.

The Batman is at it's best when it really bites into the grit of some of the darker runs of the comics, and despite a PG-13 rating, the movie often waves it's hands towards brutality, asking you to think about some pretty gruesome things even if it can't show them to you. Unfortunately it also backpedals right when you think it's doing something brave, and tells you it has sticked the landing just to fall into the sequel-baity pitfalls of it's contemporaries****. And yet, I'm so happy it got made.

The modern superhero movie is not for me. It's sterile, ugly and afraid to end a story. On occasion it can be fun, sometimes even interesting, but it never wants to challenge the viewer. Every now and then the studios roll out something that promises to reinvent the wheel, or go back to the origins: Suicide Squad was supposed to be violent, funny and experimental, Black Widow tried to be a real movie and Wandavision promised to be conseptual and complicated. Almost always these attempts at true innovation get hit by a studio executive bazooka midway through production and the end result feels like a rollercoaster where halfway through the ride the coaster malfunctions on ground level and you have to sit there waiting for an underpaid amusement park employee to untie you from the machine even though you're not in any actual danger, or in the case of Suicide Squad, the coaster plunges straight into hell and never re-emerges.

Matt Reeves and Peter Craig have finally created a superhero movie that might actually redirect that bazooka. Whatever it was that gave them the freedom they had to create this absolute beast of a movie has proven that a less actionpacked, less linear and less glossy superhero movie can still be succesful and do things that the safer movies can't. This could mean that in the future we could get a new wave of superhero movies that actually want to prove Scorsese wrong. Now all they need to do is give Batman to someone who can really do some damage, like Paul King*****. If we do that, maybe superhero movies can finally be gay again.

TLDR; The Batman (2022) was my favourite Batman video game that went through a hilarious sitcom script switch scenario and accidentally got turned into a 3 hour movie. It's not bad, because it made me engage and think even in the moments where it was being less good. It might also save superhero movies.

* And i do mean https://www.almost.com

** This is the most 3 hour long movie that has 3 houred since maybe The Titanic.

*** This is to say it's cool without trying to be too realistic or explain itself too much. Vampires can't decay, since they turn to dust when they die.

**** Ha Ha Ha.

***** Not a joke. Please take King away from Wonka and make him make a Batman movie. We can have Baz Luhrmann throw Timothee around after he's done with whatever fresh hell that Elvis movie is going to be.

This review of The Batman (2022) is dedicated to the studio executives who made Burton step down because Batman Returns was "too dark". Fuck you, you bitch ass cowards, we're all in Avengers hell because of you.

[secondhandnewsradio]

SHN INTERVIEW: Rachel Bochner

by Claire Silverman

Rachel Bochner is a singer/songwriter based in New York City. Her career in the music industry began with an A&R internship at a record label, and it was there that she realized her true passion for creating and sharing her own music. Her passion lies in making pop music that resonates with people through the good, the bad, the lighthearted, and the heavy.

CS: Congrats on the release of your song “hating myself in the summer!”

RB: Thank you so much!

CS: The song feels like a song that so many people, especially young girls, can relate to a lot. What initially prompted you to write this song?

RB: I actually started writing this song back in October, so it wasn't written in the summertime. But the phrase in the chorus “I'm tired of hitting myself in the summer” is kind of what sparked the song as a whole. And like you said, it's something that a lot of people, especially young women can relate to. I think it's just something that I have always struggled with for as long as I can remember. There are periods in my life where I noticed, at events or seasons, that I'm feeling particularly self-conscious, and summer is definitely one of those times. There’s this push and pull of “I want to be enjoying myself, and I just want to exist and not be worrying about this,” but there's also a pressure that “okay, my friends are all going to the beach, and I don't love how I'm looking in this bathing suit, and now that's consuming my mind,” and it's a really exhausting thing to worry about. Also as I've gotten older, it’s become so much more apparent that it's not something that actually matters, and it's not something that I should be basing my worth on. So the song is about coming to that realization.

CS: One thing I like about this song is that it's you and yourself, but also it’s you speaking to a lot of people. I appreciate that this song is a pop song, and it's a really good pop song, but it's not about a love story, which is something I really like. I've noticed this type of theme in some of your other songs too. Could you tell me a bit about what kind of messages are you interested in writing about, and what's important to you and your songwriting overall?

RB: It's funny that you say that because this song is on a project that is a collection of songs that are all not love songs. I think, for this project, I wanted it to be exactly that ��� my thought process and things that I'm feeling and what I'm going through but not really about another person. I do love a love song, and I love the last EP that I put out that had this story of one relationship not working out and like coming into a new one that feels better and more authentic. So I felt like I got that off my chest for a bit. I started with “how am I feeling?: And “what are the things that I am struggling with?” And what are things that I think that other people who are around my age, so high school through mid to late 20s, can relate to? I love being able to write something that feels really personal to me, but when someone listens to it, they might have a completely different life experience and still be able to place themselves in that song.

photo: Sasha Bellentine

CS: Who are the artists that you feel have really influenced you and your songwriting?

RB: I am definitely influenced by a lot of different artists. Some longer-term inspirations for me are Julia Michaels, Maggie Rogers, and Lana Del Rey. I think Julia Michaels’ writing is the kind of pop music that I am really drawn to,  where sonically it’s a bop, but lyrically, you can read into it and it’s a thought-provoking song. Recently I've really been loving Conan Gray. Also, Sasha Sloane is great. I always feel overwhelmed when I'm asked this question because I feel like I need to list everyone. And I also love Taylor Swift. She consistently blows my mind.

CS: I love that. One of the coolest things that I’ve noticed from speaking with female artists around our age is that literally almost every single one of them has been deeply influenced by Taylor Swift. She has really helped create this next generation of songwriters. It's so cool.

RB: And I also love Lorde so much, but I feel like people always kind of name Lorde as their inspiration.

photo: Alex Lyon

CS: So how did you get started in the industry? What made you realize that music was what you wanted to pursue?

RB: I have always loved music. I've always been a singer, for as long as I can remember. But I didn't really start writing and working on my own music until later on. I think part of that was being a little bit afraid of failure. The part of me that wanted to do that got overshadowed by the part of me that was afraid of being bad at it. But I actually started seriously writing during the summer of 2018, which is weirdly recent. For a while, I thought I wanted to work at a label, so I interned at a record label that summer of 2018. I was doing A&R and was listening to new music every single day and looking for new artists. That’s when it clicked for me that I loved writing and I wanted to be sharing my own music. From that point on, I've been focusing on finding my network of people to be making music.

CS: As I was getting ready for this interview, I was listening to your EP 2 AM again, and I wanted to ask you about that EP as well, specifically, your song Ultraviolet. What was the story behind that song?

RB: Ultraviolet was written at the end of last summer, so we were deep in COVID times. From not being able to see people and just having so much time to sit with my own thoughts, I started to understand things about myself that I hadn't previously ever even thought about. I needed an outlet for thinking about that and processing the questions and realizations I was having about my sexuality. Naturally, I wrote a song about it. It created this space for me to explore everything that I was thinking about given the circumstances.

CS: You mentioned earlier with that EP that there was a big emphasis on the storytelling aspect of your songs. Can you talk a little bit about that, and, and the process of that EP, and putting out an EP in a time where playing concerts can’t be a part of a release.

RB: Since I started releasing music right before COVID, I’ve never really lived in a world where playing shows is a part of the release strategy. I'm excited for that to be a thing. In terms of the storytelling, the songs on the EP weren't actually written in the order that they appear on the tracklist. Afterwards, I figured out how they made sense to me, which was fun. Something I like to do in my writing is pull from experiences and emotions that I have personally felt, but also using fiction and applying an emotion that I have actually experienced and I can speak to, but in a different situation. I think as a songwriter it is really important to be able to open yourself up beyond what you've experienced firsthand, and still be able to make it sound genuine and have it resonate with people.

CS: Do you have any news you can share with us? Any exciting things coming up in the future?

RB: Definitely. I have new music on the way [Rachel’s new single “ghosted my therapist” is out now]. I won't say too much, but there's a little easter egg in the music video for “hating myself in the summer.” It's cryptic, but it'll make sense eventually.

CS: Is this the Taylor Swift fan in you putting easter eggs in your videos?

RB: Oh 100% yes.

CS: Can you give us a few recommendations to end with? What are the songs you've been listening to recently?

RB: Conan Gray recently put out a song called “People Watching” and it's so good, it was co-written by Julia Michaels as well, and she’s one of my favorites. There's a song that I literally cannot stop playing and it destroys me emotionally but I am obsessed with it. It's called “I Can't Wait to Be British” by Carol Ades. If you're looking for a song to cry to, that's a really good one. I’ve also been listening to a lot of JP Saxe lately. I'm actively not sad, but I love listening to sad music right now.

CS: It was really nice to meet you, and I'm looking forward to hearing your new music!

RB: Thank you!

[pennys-th0ughts]

Robert Gray. The Origin of Pennywise 🤡 Chapter 2

Augustine was sitting on the stairs in the porch. She was, as usual, reading one of her favorite books totally submerged in it. I was looking at her and cherishing every single one of her features that often reminded me to my wife. From her she got her beautiful eyes and the freckles on her cheeks and nose and from me she got the color of my hair and a proud nose. Her long curled copper hair resembled a furious river and its stream made of fire running a smooth hill down.

My daughter was a lovely fifteen years old young woman now and the springtime of her womanhood has already knocked at her door. Raising a little girl for a single father isn’t always that easy, even more when you don’t have an instructions book of how to play both figures for her. There were times I got to feel uncomfortable explaining things that a mother should, but in time we made it and Augustine did her best to understand me.

– ¿Are you thinking about mom, dad? – She suddenly asked me and made me snap out of my thoughts.

I remained in silence for some minutes trying to picture Charlotte’s face in my mind. After ten years without her and my memory loss stepping forward every day, which was diagnosed a couple years ago, made me fear that someday her face would start being something unknown to me but the pictures I kept on my night table and in almost all around the house were preventing me to forget the woman I loved the most.

– I think about her every single day, sweetheart – I answered my daughter with a little smile, trying really hard to contain my tears.

I couldn’t show her my weak side if I wanted her to be strong, but the feeling was devastating sometimes. To help me cope I used to read the diary she had left me before she passed, her poetry and quotes had so much heart that you could feel each word caressing your soul. To me they were like some kind of balm she made only for me and to cure my torn up spirit. The few years spent together we have realized that we had become in some kind of inspiration to each other.

To me she was the muse that helped me create the most benevolent medicines and for her I turned to be the architect that built the most beautiful dream she would keep living through once she was gone. And I was looking at this dream straight to her eyes and telling her how much I missed her mother without mentioning how badly I needed her.

– She never left – Augustine finally said closing her book and putting it to a side-. She is still here with us.

The truth in her words got me thinking for a moment and, despite her young age, once more my daughter was right. Her wisdom was so pure and unpredictable that many times left me without words, only thoughts. I kept thinking the loss of her mother made her grow faster than I would have wanted; she was so little when Charlotte passed away than I could bet she barely remember her.

Augustine sat down on my lap and I hugged her really tight. My little girl will soon leave the house and also a big emptiness in my heart, but I knew that was the right thing to do. She had a promising future outside Derry and I wouldn’t dare to force her to stay, Charlotte would surely kill me if she could.

Finally the day I feared the most to come came and I suddenly saw myself with my eyes watering because of the tears I couldn’t hold. I helped my daughter to place her luggage inside the carriage one foggy October night and after we said goodbye she finally departed to her new destination. I saw her put distance between us and the more distant she got the more I started missing her. House would feel so empty and the days would become longer. A new lonely phase was about to begin and I wasn’t ready for it.

Fire spread fast and by the time firefighters came to help the flames had already wiped out most of the things. Liquid medicines became into steam and all the solid ones and ingredients were now ashes. Drugstore burned to the ground until everything turned out into dust. I fell on my knees and watched powerless how the little smolders were slowly dying leaving only charcoals on their spot. I clenched my fists so hard that my nails pierced my skin and bloody marks popped up.

After the incident I had to let Charlotte’s brother go; rebuild the store from a scratch was going to take a lot of time and money I didn’t have. I was officially broken. Losing my job at the store was the last low blow I wasn’t expecting and after not seeing another way out of my bad financial situation I decided, with a heavy heart, to sell the house and move in to a smaller place a bit away from the main square.

Depression didn’t take long to look through my window one cold winter day. Soon I would start to loose notion of time and the will of going out and face people would become smaller each day. Paranoia came after and some days were blurry, alcohol would make them a little bit clearer but the outcome afterwards was always worse.

Augustine got a letter sometime after the tragedy, in it I told her what happened and where I was living now. She wrote me back and her letter arrived a couple days later saying that the conservatory wouldn’t allow her to leave until upcoming summer vacations. Long months were lying ahead like some kind of carpet made of shattered glass, I was in one end and Augustine was in the other, getting to her would definitely be something very painful.

Hot waves of air announced summer as usual. I was sitting on one of the benches at the train station waiting with my eyes lost in the far landscape loaded with orange, red and coffee tones. I was sitting there alone and waited for more than one hour Augustine’s train to arrive, something that never happened. I looked down and my eyes fell on the dusty floor as my spirit did. Bitterness of disappointment began flooding my mouth as if I just had a long sip of choler. When I finally gave up to the hope of seeing my daughter again someone came up out of the blue catching me unguarded. She sat down next to me and sighed. Her perfume started tearing floral notes of rose, violets and lavender of the air and some citric shades of tangerine and lime.

– If you don’t mind me saying, – she finally spoke- it seems you have been waiting long enough.

I abruptly turned my head to look at her unsuccessfully hiding the surprise plastered all over my face. She chuckled at my sudden reaction with a shy smile that she politely covered with her hand. The paleness of her skin reminded me the bright side of the moon, her light brown eyes looked like two pieces of gold and her hair was stunningly white.

– I'm afraid you are quite correct – I replied slightly smiling back-. ¿Are you waiting for the next train, miss?

– Actually no – she extended her hand to shake mine-. I just came down from the one that just left.

We shook hands and she introduced herself as Carou Sehl, I did the same and told her I used to be the apothecary of the town until not long ago a fire burned the whole place down. We shared some trivial details of our current occupations and some other irrelevant events of our lives. It was about to be eight o'clock and I was starting to feel a little hungry.

– ¿Would you like to have a cup of coffee? – I asked her with my voice fully loaded with hesitation, fearing to be rejected because of the late hour.

She seemed not to be worried about the time so she accepted my invitation, I helped her get up and we headed to the most comfortable cafeteria downtown. On our way there we didn’t speak much, we limited ourselves to watch the store windows and the things there exhibited. In a moment the girl froze on the spot making me stop immediately since she was still grabbing my arm.

I didn’t need to ask what was going on when I saw her admiring a beautiful dress a manikin was wearing. The price in the tag was certainly high but the fabric and the design of the piece was undoubtedly amazing that reminded me the kind of dress only the princesses in fairy tales would wear.

The environment inside the cafeteria was surprisingly nice at this hour, there weren’t too much people and that made it really quiet, special to have a long and relaxed talk. Carou sat down in front me and left her belongings next to her, I did the same with my hat and coat. The waitress greeted us politely leaving the menu on the table which we both laid hands on it at the same time. Such a clumsy coincidence made the girl laugh shyly and ripped a smile of my lips, maybe the most sincere one since a long time.

We spent the next two and half hours talking about the intriguing life inside a circus, Carou worked there for many years since she was ten years old until they parents had to retire because of their advanced ages. She carefully explained that once the acrobats reach their fifties they must stop working because the muscles begin getting hard and the joints doesn’t respond as they should putting their lives in danger of falling. Carou kept on going with the family’s inheritance until time decided when to show her the finishing flag.

I remained looking at her in silence, listening every single word coming out from her pink lips carefully. She spoke with so devotion that was inevitable not to feel the same fire inside your chest.

– It seems you love what to do – I finally said sighing-. ¿Have you ever imagined yourself doing something else?

– Not really, no – she answered my question while playing with the napkin-. I think my life was meant to be spent in a circus and I'm okay with that…

– ¿But…?

– But I would have loved to travel around the world, with the circus or not, it would have been a quite unforgettable experience.

Carou clearly seemed to be the kind of woman that loved adventure but hadn’t the chance to get out and see the world by her own. Her parents anchored her to a life that had limited choices and she accepted it without hesitation given it was her only way out to a complicated situation.

– It would have, indeed –I reaffirmed her point of view.

I paid the coffees and we left. Before going separate ways, she invited me to go and watch one of her numbers at the circus which I gladly accepted. That night a warm breeze was blowing, gently shaking the branches of the trees and their leaves. The wind didn’t give time to put my hat on in time and disheveled a few locks of my hair; Carou took one of them and put it behind my ear and said:

– Your hair looks like winter fire…

I froze on the spot for a split of a second not knowing how or what to feel but I immediately put myself together and reacted just in time to say goodbye and kiss her hand. That night I would return home with a strange but nice feeling inside my chest, something I thought it was long time gone.

To be continued…

Image: Andy White (@deviantart )

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of August 7th, 2019

Best of this Week: DCeased #4 - Tom Taylor, Trevor Hairsine, Stefano Gaudiano, Rain Beredo and Saida Temofonte

This book went out with a bang and it’s only been four issues of the six!

Captain Atom is one of the strongest heroes of the DC Universe. He’s right on par with Superman and under the reigns of the government, he’s an asset that they have complete authority over. The Atom, likely Ray Palmer, has dived into the body of an infected girl to see if there were a way to solve the crisis before it gets any worse, but then he goes dark. Captain Atom tells Amanda Waller to just way for The Atom to chime back in, but she orders him to go outside and clean the mess up. 

He does so, but soon realizes that something is horribly wrong. The next thing we see is The Atom tearing his way through Captain Atom's body, infecting him with the Anti-Life Virus.

We cut to the aftermath of the last issue with Clark bringing Martha Kent to the Daily Planet, crying about Jonathan as the entire Kent Family embraces each other over the loss. One of the big themes of this issue is the loss of family as there will he two big examples later on, each feeling more devastating than the last. 

Soon after Superman returns, he's ready to go back out there and rescue more people, but Dinah reminds him of the danger everyone could be in if he were to become infected. He counters that with the fact that he's been using x-ray vision to counter the effects of the virus as it's transmitted through screens. Lois makes a transmission to any hero or villain still alive and tells them to all come to the Daily Planet building. 

It's one of the few bits of hope that we get in this issue as we see that some people have boarded up their homes, some of the Titans are still alive and even Lex Luthor is listening in. Best of all, the transmission makes it to Themyscira and Wonder Woman makes her presence felt as she tells her mother and an arriving Mera that she's going to Metropolis. 

In Keystone City, Superman and Green Lantern Canary find Flash and Kid Flash who are doing their best to stay down as them becoming infected would be a nightmare for the world. In Gotham, Harley is being rescued by Ivy, who kills the infected versions of Catwoman, Huntress, Batwoman and Batgirl. I really liked this because, on top of finally getting one over on the Joker, Harley is saved by the true love of her life, albeit in a gory and bloody manner that I'd hoped I'd never have to see for some of my other favorite characters. But they do make for a really adorable couple. 

Back in Metropolis, however, things have taken a horrible turn for the worse. Hairsine struts his stuff in an amazing double page spread that shows an infected Giganta tearing her way through the city like a Kaiju. She looks absolutely monstrous with a giant scar running down her face, eyes and clothes caked with the blood of untold tens or hundreds of people that she's likely killed or eaten. With only Black Lightning, his daughters, Green Arrow, Robin and Superboy to defend the Planet, things look incredibly dire.

That is, until a surprise Batwing appears and distracts her… only to get knocked out of the sky, but saved by a returning Canary, Superman and the two Flashes. Wonder Woman also appears and prepares to cut the head off of the infected Giganta as she is knocked over by Superman. However, he stops her, pleading that there may still be something left there.

The little bit of hope that he may have had is crushed as Cyborg reappears and blows a hole straight through her head, explaining that none of them are alive anymore. While it's a mostly clean shot, the few bits and blood that do fall out feel gnarly as hell and her dead eyed expression is enough to send chills down the spine. 

While the other heroes are talking, the Batwing's hatch opens and Damian somehow expects it to be Batman only to be met by Alfred. He hugs his grandson and tells him Bruce's last words before his untimely passing and we're brought back to another tearful embrace.

*HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD*

But this somber moment doesn't last as Hawkgirl appears, crashing down into Diana's arms, telling everyone that Captain Atom is infected and that he's about to explode. Superman and Wonder Woman do their best to contain it, but the sheer power of Captain Atom proves too much as his eruption destroyed Washington DC, then Baltimore and eventually...Metropolis where Black Lightning tells his daughters to close their eyes as he embraces them, the bright light engulfing them all.

*SPOILERS OVER: PRESS ON*

DCeased has gone way beyond the gimmick that a lot of us thought it might have been. Exploring themes like the loss of family, love and hope versus hopelessness, we see these characters placed in a new light where they have to adapt to a harrowing situation that no one was prepared for. Black Canary taking over as Green Lantern after Hal gets infected is a new and fresh take for her and she absolutely fits the role like a glove. Superman having to dissociate in order to keep himself focused on saving people gives him more depth as it clashes with who he is as a hero. Diana is far more willing to cut the head off of Giganta where normally she would try to talk her down or knock her out, she’s ready for the high stake over the situation. Also seeing Damian actually show his feelings, crying as Alfred hands him the briefcase of Batman’s gear, gives a lot more humanity as he’s been showing a lot of it because this is legit one of the first times he’s been truly afraid and didn’t have a plan. 

Trevor Hairsine’s art by itself is enough to sell the book on. It has a flavor of horror that hearkens back to some of DCs Vertigo stories, but also has the color and flair of normal superhero stories. The feelings of despair are very clearly shown and the gore, for how little there is in this issue is still unsettling to see. It’s all very high quality and appropriate for the story. Unlike most Marvel Zombies books, I’m actually scared for everyone here and I love it. High recommend. 

---------------------------------------------------

Jarro is the best new member of the Justice League and I will not be persuaded of the otherwise. 

Runner Up: Justice League #29 - Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, Bruno Redondo, Hi-Fi and Tom Napolitano

Since the events of No Justice (2018), the Universe has been without Starro, the sentient and powerful telepathic starfish that served as the Justice League's first ever villain. In an uncharacteristic act of heroism, the conqueror sacrificed his life in an effort to save the universe from being destroyed. All that was left a small part of him that was kept in a jar and maintained his sense of heroism, becoming Batman's newest son, Jarro.

Jarro is the epitome of "doing his best" as this book involves him single handedly taking on the Legion of Doom. 

Lurking in the shadows of the Hall of Doom, listening to their top secret plans, lies Jarro dressed as Robin! He waits for the perfect moment and strikes at Lex and the others! They're all stunned that someone had the knowledge of their location and the gall to attack them. They all think that they can overpower him, but forget that Jarro still has all of the memories of his former self and creates an energy weapon that knocks them all back, including Sinestro and his constructs.

Though things take a turn, even after Jarro manages to take control of Braniac for a moment, and Lex gains the upper hand, pinning Jarro to a wall. As he's about to lay the final blow, the Justice League arrives to save their companion!

Throughout the book, however, there are numerous questionable things that makes it seem like it's just too good to be true. Jarro is referred to as Batman's favorite Robin by Sinestro. How did Jarro even find the Hall of Doom and how did the League track him? Hell, when Batman sees Jarro, he SMILES. That's a huge red flag. 

When Jarro begins to spawn more stars and takes over the minds of the Legion, Batman chides him for his actions and eventually realizes that he's had a star on his face the whole time. Jarro had been showing the good guys a vision where the League wins after deciding that control is the only path to victory after the shared vision he had with Starman in the last issue. 

It's all very reminiscent of any time that the Black Mercy plant is used and while what Jarro did was horrible, Batman manages to convince him that everything will be okay. So he releases the hold on everyone, jumps on Batman's shoulder and tells the others to prepare for war. 

What this book does best is simply allude to the idea that not everything is as it seems. It has little hints planted with things that only a could would say about themselves or their parents thoughts. Told through Jarro's perspective, it's good to see that Batman has raised him to be a being of hope and a cute one at that. Even his little Robin costume made me absolutely giddy and excited for the little guy.

Once again, it's Batman that has to save the day because he's always the most sound of mind. Though what this story does is shine a light on just how powerful Jarro could be. He managed to take over the minds of the Justice League without anyone being the wiser and shows just what an asset he is. It's even implied that he has a potential that even he can't see yet and I'm excited for his future.

[thewaybackcloset]

Market In The Alley: A collective of creators, designers and makers

Ever since moving to Las Vegas, I sought out to find a gathering of small business owners and generally anyone who is side hustling in some sort of way. With Vegas having a stigma and allure of being the Sin City to satisfy your vices, I want to remind visitors (and myself from time to time) that it also is an actual place with actual people. This year I have become more invested in how I spend my time. I have been freelancing much more than actually going to my "day job", which graciously allows me to work as part time as I want. So, with various copy writing projects filling my time, I thought what better way to ignite my right brain then to seek out the passion projects of Las Vegas and unveil some buried inspiration.

After a few years of exploring places I would normally go to "get out of the house" I stumbled upon a daytime event this past January. On a random Sunday I went to Market In The Alley in downtown Fremont across the street from the abandoned Fergusons Motel, which has been a vacant space for many years, except for the Burning Man Big Rig Jig sculpture towering above the desolation.

Now, the downtown Fergusons is a bustling hub in the making. It has finally undergone a major makeover to become a co-working space for various workshops, boutique hotel rooms, main offices for Market In the Alley and other downtown businesses. At the last Market I wandered over to take a look at the progress and there are few units already in operation, like the new Hatsumi Japanese Restaurant and a space proposed for a coffee shop.

The Downtown Fergusons collective also started a monthly event in the evenings that focuses on tasty libations: alcoholic and non-alcoholic called Pour in the Alley.

The Pour in the Alley event is usually during the week before the next Market, which occurs every third Sunday. In the past they have had tasting events focused on tequila, coffee and most recently, mezcal. Next month's will be rum focused. For future Pour in the Alley events peep the Fergusons Downtown Pour in the Alley Calendar.

Vulnerable moment PSA: The first time I went to Market In the Alley, I was feeling pretty down and out after getting into a car accident the week prior. I really needed to GET OUT and be around people doing cool things: making, creating, moving on, working towards their goals, letting their creativity flow and flourish, instead wallowing in the event that had just occurred. I'm so happy I did, because not only was it a distraction, but it ignited something in me to keep going and keep brainstorming ideas on how to resolve the situation. And walking through the Alley is inspiring...

So, with friends from work we have made Market Sundays a regular day date. Each time we go, I always meet a new person who wants to collaborate; whether it's cosmetology, photography, music or film production. This area is full of creatives that are wandering around looking for their next inspiration. This is what makes the wheel turn: a community of individuals that hustle for their dreams and aren't afraid of collaborating for free.

My hairstylist I now see, I met her twice at the market! Once at the January market and then at the February one; it was fate. She coaxed me into getting a fresh look from her along with makeup for a photo and video shoot. Out of that one collaboration, I now know a Vegas based fashion stylist, hairstylist, makeup artist and photographer. And we all have regular Market Sunday meet ups.

As for the event vendors, there are always so many. It's hard to list my favorites. Vendors change monthly depending on if they can snag a booth in time before the deadline or if the event sells out. A few lovely vendors I frequent have been there regularly and always have an assortment of their own goods: from vintage wrestling tees, jewelry, coffee, organic home products, and so much more.

Each month I feel like there are more vendors than the last. Market in the Alley is definitely growing in popularity and it's fun for everyone. There is always a rotation of live music outside nestled in the middle of the Market greens.  The Bunkhouse Saloon has specials all day, plenty of food trucks to satisfy every different diet, coffee, animal adoption and morning yoga some days. As we move into the 'hotter than hell' of desert summers, Market in the Alley will most likely transition into a Night Market.

Hope this helps anyone in Las Vegas, visiting or stationary, that is looking for another way to socialize, take in the local scene or get those creative juices flowing... ✌️

[sleepingwithinkink2-0]

Lost Signal...corrupted data

People always ask me why I m doing what I'm doing; giving them my half smile , laughing slightly embarrassed..

They are always shock when I say it was a choice, but sometimes I wonder if it real was a conscious choice that our past don't help

pave out our future in some kind of way...

An echo of past events..

Science says we are just a product of the past

Sprinkled in with DNA

That gives us a premise of what we will become..

I wonder how true that is...

I never gave anyone the full answer,

Partly because

I feel like most people won't understand..

And

Partly because I don't know how to put it in words..

.so I tell them..

I m saving money to build my tiny house..

.but truth be told that's only have of the answer...

And

What I write from here on out is only a piece of something greater ..

I m looking for something...

I m not sure exist ..

I never believed in anything fully..

So I sought to understand the human conditions..

to seek answers for a fracture brain..

I wanted just answers .

A cure .

A meaning to keep going...

Disrupt the the rhythm of my life

Perhaps I could find a pattern..

In away I did found something ...

I found bits and pieces of something

and

I think what I found would be different for everyone else.

I've met so many wonderful and beautiful people... Listening to their stories and their passions,

Strangers telling me their stories of how they met their partner of twenty plus years..

Hearing stories of their adventures

And regrets..

And

Their stories of lose and sadness .

There is hidden beauty

In mankind

if your willing to open your eyes .

And

keep an open mind..

I've learnt alot..

But I'm also left with a lot of questions with no answers ..

my curious mind has no bounds,

Always hungry for more knowledge..

Thst is my gift and my curse..

It's one of the few things I admire about who I m..

What I realize though this journey:

is that life can't be explained

not exactly...

What you believe in shapes your reality..

even if no one understands it,

but you...

I don't believe in one thing not completely,

Taking bits and pieces from everything and trying to make sense of everything,

but even then it's not exactly the truth...

I wanted to believe that there is a purpose

a reason to the rhythm...

but what if there really isn't

I've written that sentence a hundred time and it's still hard for me to grasp..

I wanted to believe we met people for a reason,

That we fall in love with certain people... That we ended up where we needed to be, because there was a purpose ..

But what if there isn't..

....what if we created reasons to explain what we can't cope with

, to not feel unwanted in a world of billions of people.

Why

And

What are we so afraid...

We as humans want to be in control of our environment,

to control the things around our lives..

so when we don't know something we feel vulnerable,

but I realize that when you try to control the things around you...

You only end up with broken finger nails and anxiety...

once you put people in the equation

...nothing is ever certain

And I know this for certainty now..

That the only thing that ever mattered are the little moments that happen in the now..

Because even memories become distored

Unreliable..

How we feel in this instant..

Is everything ..

Because

Once we die

That's it

The only pieces of us that will remind are the pieces embedded in those we loved and those we left an impression on...

I wonder if the last seconds of my life

I ll be content..

I loved and lived..

Will that be enough ..

12.24.22

12:33am

-Danny Sheehan

[mental-health-advice]

Is it possible for stress to trigger social anxiety? I've always been shy and had a very low self esteem but I naturally overcame it when I was 15. After that, I kinda grew out of my social anxiety. Now I'm almost 21, third year of college (the reason I'm always stressed) and all my fears of being judged, calling strangers on the phone (such a food delivery, a particular store) or answering messages from almost everyone is back and stronger than ever. I'm afraid of those things I'm feeling ...

Hey love,

Thanks for getting in touch with us here at MHA! I am sorry that you are going through such a stressful time right now and it is having a negative impact on your mental health. I hope I’ll be able to share some techniques and reassurances to start making things a little easier for you again. 

In short, yes, stress is definitely a big trigger for mental health issues such as anxiety. Around two years ago I was in the same position as you going into my 2nd year at University and suddenly the increased pressure and stress causes a major relapse in my mental health. But hopefully I can use this to show you and others that it is possible to overcome and you can succeed with anything you desire! We need to look at ways in which we could begin to reduce that stress. This may involve something like creating a daily schedule for the important tasks that you need to complete. So this could involve a revision schedule, or a homework timetable? If you start of small with maybe just half an hour of work a day, then gradually build it up; it’s important to keep small and manageable goals! But please remember that it is really important to leave time, at least an hour or two a day, for self care. For example, I take around 2 hours before I go to bed and fill that time with things I enjoy like creating art and music, and I also make sure to spend time caring for my hair and skin etc. Self care also involves things like making sure you are eating well, staying hydrated, and getting enough sleep. If you are struggling with stress right now, it may also help you to begin practising some mindfulness - here is our page about it!

To begin with, I’m going to link you to our page about social anxiety here; this has a lot of information about social anxiety and some of the diagnostic criteria.

Have you considered seeing a professional about this, lovely? If not, I think it would be a really good idea for you to reach out to your doctor or a therapist for support. They will be able to diagnose you if applicable, begin treatment, and hopefully share some great coping mechanisms with you. Here is our page about getting help if that is something that you want to consider; if this page leaves you with any questions about seeking treatment, then please drop us another message and one of the other admins or I will be more than willing to help you out!

It is important to note that when dealing with any type of mental illness, including social anxiety, there will be times during recovery when you struggle more again and feel as though you have gone back to square one - that is completely normal! But just because you may be having a bad day or period of time, it doesn’t mean that the progress you previously made has gone; now you know that you can do those great things and it gives you something to keep striving towards. You have made such good progress, love, and you can get there again!

To challenge negative thoughts, I found it really useful to stop, acknowledge my thought, and then ask myself whether I have any evidence to support that thought. For example, if I find myself thinking ‘he thinks i’m stupid’, I stop and ask myself ‘Are you just mind-reading? What evidence do you have to say that he thinks you’re stupid?’ Normally, you will find that you don’t have any evidence to support that thought, and challenging it can help you to dismiss and move over the thought.  I suggest you have a look at our anxiety page series, specifically the self-help and calming down pages. 

Grounding techniques are personally my go to method for dealing with my anxiety. Grounding techniques help you to reconnect with reality and keep your mind from wandering off in the negative thoughts. Here is a link to our page about different methods. Personally, I recommend something physical like running your hands under icy water. You could also try something like playing a categories game with yourself; so, try to think of ‘’breeds of dogs’’, ‘’states of the USA’’, or ‘’billboard charts’’ etc. It may take you a little while to find the most effective grounding techniques for you, but hopefully the ideas on our page will be of some use to you

Something I want you to try, if you feel able to, is to start looking at the patterns in your social anxiety. So think back to some of the times when you have experienced social anxiety, and start to break it down into:

Your thoughts before a social event (e.g. everyone will think i’m stupid)

The physical symptoms you experience (e.g. panic attack)

The negative view you have of yourself (e.g. i look really ugly today)

Avoidance behaviours you use (e.g. playing on my phone)

Your thoughts after a social event (e.g. everyone hates me and won’t want to spend time with me again)

It may also be really good to keep a diary for whenever you feel anxious in the future and note down how each attack fits into the above categories. This can be really useful as it helps you to understand what is behind the anxiety and it means you can start tackling it in smaller sections. Recognising and tackling it in smaller sections can help you to feel less overwhelmed and lost in the negatives!

I hope this has been of some use to you, lovely, Please remember that you are welcome to get back in touch with us whenever you want to. Please take care!

Rhiann xo

[dear-wormwoods]

okay can we talk south park meta? bc i was reading some of your kyle meta and i'm super glad to have found someone who sees his character the same way as i do. have you noticed that somewhere along the way people (both in show and rl) have stopped giving kyle the importance that used to be given to him? like a great example would be his speeches. back then people actually used to listen and agree, now it's more like- shut up kyle no one cares. and the weird thing is that even people like (1/2)

(2/2) even people like stan are telling him to shut up with the speeches? idk but i feel like somewhere along the last few seasons people just stopped caring about what kyle has to say, or what he does, or what he goes through (humancentipad was so fucked up and no one cared??). the stuff gerald was saying to him in s20 kind of felt like trey was using him as a mouthpiece to say that stuff about kyle. kyle’s dynamic with basically everyone in the show has changed? why are the writers doing this? 

Hey anon, I love getting Kyle-related messages! And I agree with this, for the most part. I feel like in recent seasons the boys in general (with the glaring exception of Cartman) have had their roles reduced, which I suppose is why I really enjoyed last season when a lot of people hated it… I was just so glad Kyle had such a prominent role, I could look past everything else. But I have a few thoughts on some of the specific things you mentioned:

Kyle’s thoughts and opinions have never held a ton of weight in the show. He has always been sort of the voice of reason that no one listens to, and that’s kind of the trope they most often used with him. I think the major shift between past seasons and recent ones is that, like… in the old days, even if no one actively listened to Kyle’s speeches, in the end he was always proven right, or justice was served, so we as the audience knew that the show was on his side and it was simply the townspeople’s and/or Cartman’s stupidity that caused him to be initially ignored. More recently, it seems like there hasn’t been any real karma in the show? Like, Kyle is ignored like always, but instead of things going wrong because no one listened to him, things just go fine for the people in the wrong and there is no real comeuppance. Like Cartman gets away with A LOT nowadays, as does Randy, or Gerald, or anyone else really. And that really bothers me, because like Kyle I’m a fan of cosmic justice, and it’s disheartening when it seems like the wrong side is prevailing disproportionately. It seems like they might be trying to turn this trend around though, by giving him a voice toward the end of last season and in this season (if this week’s episode is enough to go on, at least). 

Re Humancentipad: I’m ALMOST glad that it was never addressed again, for a couple of reasons. First, that episode ruined my life when it came out and I hate thinking about it because it physically hurts me to do so. Secondly, I don’t think that Matt & Trey are really capable of dealing with that sort of trauma long term in a meaningful, effective way. I think if Humancentipad was in a more recent season and they attempted to weave the thread of what happened throughout a season for serialization purposes, it would NOT have gone well. They just don’t have the tools at their disposal to be sensitive about handling a character (a MINOR) who was kidnapped, mutilated, humiliated, horribly violated, told that he deserved it, and then given to his mortal enemy (who has a history of humiliating & abusing him as well) as a literal gift. 

I do think that Kyle has shown very SUBTLE reactions to the long term abuse he’s gotten from various sources throughout the show. For instance, he constantly feels guilty for things that aren’t his fault and feels a sort of… responsibility, almost, to subject himself to additional humiliation and abuse because he feels it’s deserved, or that something good will eventually come out of it - not for him, but for his loved ones, or for the world. The most recent example of this is probably Ginger Cow, which is another episode that is uncomfortable to watch but is very important in Kyle’s character arc, I think. It definitely gives off the vibe that his spirit has sort of been broken down too much, to the point where he almost seems to SEEK OUT humiliation, perhaps in an effort to just get ahead of it? Like he knows it will happen anyway, he’s resigned himself to that fate, so he’s now trying to create the scenario himself so he at least feels like he has some control over it? It’s telling that Ginger Cow comes after Humancentipad, an episode where he was totally blindsided by the traumatic event and was helpless to do anything about it. So in that sense, I think Matt & Trey are, maybe subconsciously, weaving in the impact of trauma on him without explicitly talking about past events like Humancentipad. They sort of do the same thing with Butters, who is another character who suffers a LOT for no real reason, and Kenny, who is very clearly using Mysterion as an outlet for his darker reactions to his curse. I’m just not sure how much thought they’re putting into this. Maybe it’s purely coincidental. 

Re Gerald: his reactions to Kyle last season did not surprise me at all. Gerald has a history of being a jerk. He’s always been a narcissist and always had problems with addiction and self-control, like many other adults in the show. He got away with it for a long time because sometimes it was fairly innocuous and when it wasn’t, it still wasn’t outright abusive. I think his issues went to an extreme last season, but it seemed like a natural progression to me, because I have spent too much time analyzing the Broflovski family dynamic, haha. It makes sense to me that he would react negatively to Kyle and project his own attitudes onto Ike, even though Ike isn’t interested in his shit either. Gerald is someone who feels like he lacks control in his life because he married someone who is very opinionated and has a strong sense of right and wrong. Sheila has always been the dominant personality in their relationship, and Kyle is A LOT like her. He has inherited her moral compass and her self righteousness. He isn’t afraid to call people out for being shitty, and this rubs people the wrong way because no one likes being told they’re shitty. He sees them both as total wet blankets, as does basically the entire town. The difference between Gerald’s relationship with Sheila and his relationship with Kyle is that he has authority over Kyle and can get away with bullying him. I’m not sure how much of what he said was about KYLE specifically and how much was him projecting what he wishes he could say to SHEILA onto Kyle, but either way, it was disgusting and abusive, and I don’t think their relationship will ever be the same. 

Regarding Trey using Gerald as a mouthpiece… I’ve definitely gotten that feeling before, in recent seasons, whether it’s Gerald or Cartman or Stan or whoever else happens to be totally disregarding or outright shitting on Kyle for no reason. I think that there had to have been some turbulence in Matt and Trey’s friendship at some point that caused some resentment to build up on Trey’s end, because he’s the main writer/creative force and I do agree that his treatment of Kyle has been suspiciously bad lately (but again, it seems better this season so far). This resentment has manifested both in the unnecessarily frequent silencing and abuse of Kyle and in the constant, inexplicable friction between Kyle and Stan. I have a lot of thoughts on Trey’s sort of split personality situation regarding Stan and Cartman, and how it feels, lately, as if he relates far more to Cartman and is therefore (again, maybe subconsciously) trying to drive a wedge between Kyle and Stan to pull Kyle more toward Cartman. But I’ve already talked too much to open THAT can of worms in this post.

ANYWAY, I hope this is what you were looking for! I could talk about Kyle all day, haha. I have hope that he won’t be as sidelined in the future if their goal is to return to their roots, but we shall see.

[ickaimp]

Hello! Sorry for ask this and reminding you of a series you wrote nearly 5 years ago, but I had recently been rewatching Phineas and Ferb and had stumbled in your sieze the summer series (which is probably my favorite pnf fics I've found). At this point I'm not asking you to continue it because I know that interest changes and you're into rotg now. I was just wondering what you had planned for it, if you did have any? I'll leave my ask as public just in case you wanted to answer privately :D

Glad to hear someone enjoyed the series! Always meant to write more for it, but didn’t getting a lot of feed back on it, and then RotG stole our brain. We had a lot planned. So… Highlights:- Ferb and Phineas end up getting a platypus army as their support unit, like how the Fireside Girls were. There’s also an Echidna, who thinks they’re a Platypus. They’re Ferb’s main assistant. - Phineas is Asexual Extrovert, Ferb is a Pansexual Introvert (inspiration) and at one point goes steady with an alien. - They have multiple bases world wide, in outer space, and the moon. Due to their inventions being stolen one too many times, their main headquarters is Atlantis - off the coast of Danville. It’s accessible through the warehouse via tubes that the tides twist and turn into a unique roller coaster ride every time you go through. Irving is in charge of security.- They have multiple businesses, depending on what they’re doing. The main company is ‘Endless Summer’. - They have amusement parks with ever shifting events, rides, and concerts everywhere they are. Admission is frequently free. One of them is the castle by Grandpa Reginald and Grandma Winnie’s place.- Isabella is their Pepper Potts, she takes care of the running of the company so that they can focus on inventing. Stacy eventually becomes the head of the legal department. - Perry continues to hide his secret agent persona from Phineas and Ferb, but mostly because he thinks it’s funny and he’s secretly a troll.- Doofenshmirtz is a part time substitute teacher. He gets along best with the weird kids and encourages them. - Fred from the future episode is actually Vanessa and Monty’s kid (he looks like a young Roger Doofenshmirtz) Was still trying to figure out how/why Candace eventually adopted him, think it came down to Vanessa being a double agent. -Vanessa is the Johnson kids’ cool Aunt Vanessa and is a large part of their lives.- At some point 20 years down the line have an accident resulting in mixing their dna together and creating twins which aren’t technically clones, royally confused the media, moral groups, and the scientific community. They didn’t care, loved their kids, and platypi are great nannies when it comes to curious toddlers around lasers. (I don’t know, the logistics of this makes me laugh)And they have one limitation they can’t cross. This was originally written for the Spook-Me Ficathon, but we couldn’t quite figure out the beginning or the end. Based off of ‘The Solider and Death’, the idea was that Isabella works with those ‘Make a Wish’ type of things, 2,450 words, mentions of death. 

“Anyway, thanks Phineas.” Isabella watched the redhead collapse against the wall in the hallway, and slide down until he was sitting on the ground, spindly knees sticking up in the air. She’d known that they had been reluctant to come to the hospital, but they’d done it to help Kenny. And the holographic system they’d rigged for the kid to ‘visit’ outer space had been beyond comparison.

“I’m just sorry we couldn’t do more.” Phineas said tiredly, tilting his head back against the wall.

“You did all you could do.” She said soothingly. Seriously, the guys did more than twelve people put together sometimes. She gave a small laugh. “I mean, not even you can stop death.”

Phineas flinched.

Isabella stared. That wasn’t a normal flinch, that was a ‘Phineas is guilty of something and bad at hiding it’ flinch.

Her question died as Ferb stepped out of the ward, Phineas automatically turning to face his brother with an expression she couldn’t quite pin down. Guilt and relief, mostly.

“Never.” Ferb said with a tone that was both firm and profoundly sad at the same time as he approached them, pocket watch in his hand. “Ask that of us again.”

With that, he sat down on the floor next to Phineas, taking his brother’s hand in his, their fingers twined together as if they were anchoring each other against an incoming storm.

“But…” Isabella glanced between them and the room they had just left. Phineas had seemed so cheerful, excited to share the galaxy with the kid. Ferb didn’t tend to be quite as expressive, but he hadn’t seemed put out to be there either.

“Three.” Phineas said softly, looking at the pocket watch in Ferb’s hand. “Two… One… Zero.”

They lapsed into silence, staring resolutely at the floor. “Wha-” Isabella started to say, when from down the hall she heard an alarm go off. Code blue was called and people started to run in the direction of the room they’d just left. Someone began wailing in the background.

Kenny was dead.

She turned and stared at them with wide eyes. Her friends had pulled off some amazing marvels in their time, but to be able to predict the moment of a child’s death-?

“You knew when he was going to die.” She whispered, the realisation sinking in.

“Yeah.” Phineas agreed softly, his eyes half-lidded and shadowy.

“But… If you knew, why didn’t you do something?” Isabella asked. Time after time, she’d seen them do impossible things, pulling miracles out of thin air at the last second. And yet they’d played with the boy instead of even attempting to save his life. “You guys! You guys can do anything together! Why didn’t you-”

“We CAN’T!” Phineas snapped, his voice cracking as he turned and glared at her. “You think… You think we like knowing that we could probably be able to do something and not being allowed to? You think it’s easy to just… what? Sit here and do nothing? I, We hate it! But we can’t!”

“Why. Not?!” She demanded. All those outings, all that time that Kenny could have had. The years his parents, that she, could have spent with him. Gone. He was never going to grow up, ever actually go into outer space, never even date or have his first kiss. All that, gone.

Phineas glared down at the floor, a stubborn look on his face. Ferb turned towards his brother, squeezing Phineas’ hand. Phineas sighed, tilting sideways until he was leaning against Ferb, his head resting on Ferb’s broad shoulder.

“Remember when we 16 and Grandpa Reginald passed away?” Phineas asked, looking away from her, his eyes half-lidded again. “Ferb and I built a box that could hold anything. And we caught Death, and put Death in the box.”

“You… caught Death?” Isabella echoed, feeling like it was the start to a bad joke.

“Well, the metaphysical manifestation of Death anyway.” Phineas clarified with a small half-shrug of one shoulder. “Same thing, really. With Death trapped in the box, nothing could die. And Grandpa Reg wouldn’t die.”

He trailed off, his eyes drifting shut. Ferb merely rested his head on Phineas’, offering silent comfort. Isabella remembered Ferb had been close to his grandfather, the only other grandparent who shared Ferb’s dare-devilish ways, his need for constant physical challenges.

“Grandma Winifred figured out what was going on and made us release Death from the box.” Phineas continued. “Not dying hurt Grandpa Reg more than the thought of leaving, his body ached and he was ready for the next adventure. But you can’t trap a metaphysical manifestation of a major cosmic force and expect to escape unscathed.”

Ferb pulled out the crystal glass he’d been holding earlier up for her to see. “We made a deal, and got this glass in exchange for the box.” Phineas lifted his head to look up at her. “We look through the glass when it’s full of water. If Death is at the foot of the person, we can do something. If Death is at their head, Death wants a new friend, and all we can do is ease their way. I never see it, but sometimes Ferb gets a glimpse of Death’s timer and we know how long they have.”

“-Like today.” Isabella murmured, remembering Ferb setting the timer after looking through the strange glass.

Phineas nodded. “If we break the deal, Death takes one of us away.” Their fingers clenched tight around each other, as if afraid the other would be torn from their grasp. “And never comes for the other. We’d never see each other again. Ever.”

Isabella had read enough Greek Mythology to know that ‘Eternal Life’ didn’t mean 'Eternal Youth’. Their body growing frailer and frailer, yet never being able to pass on.

But to have one brother left without the other, that would be an endless Hell on Earth.

“If we don’t, when Death comes for us, we go together.” Phineas turned and faced Ferb with a slight smile. “Neither is left behind.”

Ferb smiled back, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. For all the simplicity, it was a personal, intimate gesture.

The strength of their bond sometimes frightened Isabella, even as she craved it. She sometimes wished she had that she could have that sort of connection with someone, that closeness. But to be that much a part of someone, and have someone so a part of herself, it was a daunting prospect. It seemed like she’d lose a lot of who she was in the process and she wasn’t sure she was willing to give that up yet.

Their story seemed a little bit too fantastical too, like it was some sort of fairy tale or mythology. They’d done some pretty amazing things together, but trapping Death? That was stretching the limits, and she’d ridden in a space ship before.

Ferb made some sort of gesture and Phineas nodded, the two of them pulling their heads back. “Good idea, Ferb.”

“What?” She asked. Ferb held the crystal glass out to her.

“Fill the glass with water, any water will do, then stand the foot of someone’s bed and look.” Phineas instructed. “Then tell us what you see. We’ll be right here. Remember, head of the bed and foot of the bed.”

“I… Okay.” Isabella nodded. It couldn’t hurt to verify. She took the glass and with a small nod, walked down the hall to a side corridor where she knew a drinking fountain was, filling the glass with water. It sparkled prettily in the lights, throwing off rainbows, much like a diamond would. With a small smile, she walked back the other way, to a quiet wing she knew the critical patients were in.

Knowing that the nurses would probably want to know why she was there, she stopped at the foot of the first bed she saw, an elderly man with paper fine skin. She lifted the glass, peering through it.

At first, she saw nothing. Then she noticed a kind of shadow next to the bed, and shifted so she could look there.

Through the glass, she could see a pale thin woman with a head of hair that looked like messily spilt ink, dressed in a black tanktop and jeans sitting next to the man, watching him with a small smile on her face. The oddest things about the woman was a little spiral under one of her eyes, a large silver ankh necklace, and an umbrella in her hand. Isabella shook her head and moved her head to look at the spot without the glass.

Nothing.

She looked through the glass again. Even with all the black, the woman looked nice, like a friendly neighbour, or long forgotten friend. The woman seemed to notice Isabella and raised a hand, placing her finger in front of her lips in a gesture for silence. Isabella nodded and the woman winked before turning her attention back to the man, who seemed to be turning his head towards the woman, reaching one weak hand towards her.

Isabella lowered the glass and quickly walked away.

When she found Phineas and Ferb, they were leaning against each other, Phineas’ head tucked under Ferb’s chin, Phineas whispering softly and Ferb responding in his strange silent way. They pulled away when they saw her coming, their hands still locked together between them.

“Death is a woman.” Isabella reported, handing Ferb the glass.

“Sometimes.” Phineas agreed as Ferb made the glass disappear into a pocket, water and all. “Sometimes he’s a huge skeleton with booming voice and a white horse named 'Binky’. Other times, he’s an annoyed skeleton with a Jamaican accent. A few times, he’s looked kind of like a child wrapped in black. Death’s kind of a personal thing, it’s different for everybody.”

“Oh.” Isabella leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her chest. She had just seen Death. And lived.

Phineas gave a small chuckle at her reaction, lifting his free hand and wrapping it around the wrist of the her arm closest to him. She turned her wrist, capturing his hand and holding on, their hands pressed palm to palm. His hand was warm and dry and she could feel his heartbeat against her skin.

“It seemed like the most amazing thing when we first got the glass.” Phineas said, his voice hushed. “We’d sneak into the hospital and check everyone we could. The ones Death wasn’t coming for yet, we did what we could. Those that we couldn’t… Well, this isn’t the first time we’ve set up the holographic projectors in a hospital.”

“The problem was when other people got an inkling as to what we were doing.” Phineas’ expression turned hunted. “And the shouting started, why would we save some people, but not others? Parents, siblings, close friends would offer their lives in exchange for a loved ones and there was nothing we could do. And we tried to explain it, but no one would listen.”

“Even worse was when they put our appearance together with someone dying, and started accusing us of killing people.” Phineas’ tone turned annoyed, the words picking up speed as he got more agitated about it.. “Like it was our fault that someone died when all we were trying to do was make them happy, even if it was just for a little while! People who were lonely, or scared, and even if we could help them, suddenly we weren’t allowed to do so and-”

“Oh, Phineas…” Isabella stopped him, kneeling down and putting a hand on his shoulder. He cut off with a hiccup, his face twisted up with emotion. She pulled him towards her, tucking her shoulder under his chin, then reaching out and doing the same to Ferb. Just because it didn’t show on the quiet man’s face, didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. “Ferb. I’m so sorry.” She whispered.

“Not your fault.” Phineas murmured back. Except it kind of was, she was the one to ask him here again, re-opening old wounds. The one who had started accusing of not caring enough, to save Kenny instead of making his last memories happy ones.

“The hard part is that we really can do anything.” Phineas whispered. “We’ve come up with thousands of cures, everything from the common cold to cancer, but we don’t know if that would inadvertently break the deal.” And Death would come for one of them.

“Is that why you won’t do anything with the bio-sciences?” She asked, pulling away to give them some space.

“Partly.” Phineas agreed. “That and we’re afraid someone would turn them into bio-weapons. Or limit the cures, which amounts to the same thing. Prosthetics have the same problem. Too simple, it doesn’t look right, too much and it’s the basis for super-powered exo-armour.”

She nodded. They’d had a problem a while back, someone attempting to break into the warehouse to steal blueprints for the Beak’s armour.

Balancing was the hardest part of her job. Not enough help and nothing changed. Too much assistance and it was like being a bully, forcing them to take it. People had to want the help, to accept and use it for it to actually work.

“Anyway.” Phineas leaned back against the wall, Ferb following. “We hid the glass away in our room for a while, I think it held change-” Ferb raised an eyebrow and Phineas nodded, accepting the correction as if it had been spoken out-loud. “Right, miscellaneous bolts and screws. We found it when we moved into the warehouse, but haven’t pulled it out for use until now.”

Because she’d asked them to come, to save Kenny if they could.

People always felt helpless in the face of Death, but how much worse would it be, to know that you had the ability to change things, but couldn’t without risking the person closest to you? How often had they broken their hearts over it? Because Phineas was incapable of not caring, and Ferb was right there with him.

“We can do anything, build anything, but there are some lines that we can’t cross.” Phineas murmured. “Even if we want to.”

Isabella nodded. “I’ll take care of anything else like this in the future.” She promised, making a few mental notes. Best to remove the temptation entirely.

Ferb had a silent communication with Phineas for a moment. “We don’t have any problems with the holographic projections being used to grant wishes like this.” Phineas said, obviously echoing Ferb’s thoughts. “Install them in every children’s hospital you want. Even bringing kids to the warehouse to build with us for a day is fine. Just no more hospitals.”

“Okay.” Isabella nodded. They could do that.They could do almost anything. It was going to take a while to wrap her brain around the idea that there was something they couldn’t do. “Thanks.” Phineas said, tilting his head back, resting it against the wall, the sounds of the hospital suddenly seeming to rush back in. Isabella moved to stand over them and guard them until they were ready to move. —-(Deaths mentioned are from Sandman, Diskworld, and The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, it being personal is from Beetlejuice, and Kenny is from South Park )