#despite maybe becoming dated in terms of subject matter or whatever

[seeminglyseph]

Circle of Magic by Tamora Pierce may predate the classification of YA, but I genuinely think it kept me alive as a youth.

Not the least of which because it has an active meditation lesson throughout the book as a part of the magic system that is literally just box breathing, grounding and mindfulness exercises. As an undiagnosed neurodiverse trauma victim, it literally gave me tools to work through my own difficulties while also telling a really good story. A lot of really good stories since it’s an ensemble cast.

There are important things in these stories for adults, but also deeply important lessons and tools for teens, children, young adults and youths in general who might not have the guidance and security of peers or professionals or authorities to look to for information and guidance.

Not all YA needs to or should satisfy these requirements, but there is a purpose for that genre and finding solace in it as an adult isn’t a failure as an adult. Not all authors use the genre as an excuse to write less compelling stories, those authors simply look down on and infantilize their audience.

"YA books are brain rotting at any age" okay I know booktok is annoying but please get offline

[thefanficmonster]

Deep Breaths

Valkyrae x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Panic Attack, Mentions of past domestic abuse, Mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, Swearing

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst to Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having received a call from the correctional facility where their alcoholic/drug addict mother is being kept, Y/N gets some intense nightmarish flashbacks to a time that still haunts them despite a decade having passed. Luckily their girlfriend Rae is there to comfort therm.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request, I hope I captured what you wanted to read! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete and post the fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Love, Vy ❤

“Hey Y/N, I-“ One step in the living room and that’s all it took for Rae to pick up on the melancholic mood in the room. 

Her partner hasn’t even noticed she’s entered. Instead, they are sitting hunched over on the couch, elbows on knees, hand seeking their hands’ support to stay upright and their eyes hiding a thousand yard stare that’s got Rae worried sick.

“Babe, what’s wrong?“ She asks softly, inching closer to the couch to take a seat next to Y/N, “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?“

Through the fog surrounding their brain, they somehow manage to catch onto Rae’s words, forcing themself to give her at least a nod in response as to not scare her with their unresponsiveness. They can’t bring themselves to speak, it’s too hard on them to even think of what to say let alone spit it out, especially when their chest feels like it’s caught fire and their mind is still going haywire, heartbeat thumping in their ears as the adrenaline rush refuses to cease.

“Hey, look at me...“ Instead of sitting down, Rae ducks down in front of Y/N, taking their hands in hers, almost wincing at how cold they were. “Tell me what’s bothering you, baby.“

The girl is trying her best not to freak out or lose her cool, despite her already quickened heartbeat she can hear in her ears. She has every right to be reacting the way she is. Her permanently happy, bubbly, optimistic and cheerful partner who always seems to be as energized as though they’d just had a gallon of coffee is now a pale ghost sitting statue-still, staring off into the void with eyes that look empty yet terrified simultaneously.

Y/N’s mouth falls open as though they want to say something but the words die out somewhere along the way, refusing to leave their mouth and give them the relief of sharing their pain with the only person they trust limitlessly.  “I-...“ They finally manage to find their voice though their gaze is still avoiding hers, “I got a call from the correctional facility where....” They trail off, a bitter taste forming in their mouth, making their stomach turn and bite the inside of their cheek as they feel the urge to throw up start to become unbearable. “She wants to s-see me...”

They don’t need to say anything else, Rae’s already connected the dots and her complexion has gone just as pale as theirs. She knows how sensitive and triggering this topic is for Y/N, how many bad memories are tied to this one person in their life. To make matters worse, they’re the one person who was supposed to take care of them yet she couldn’t even take care of herself - Y/N’s mother.

Rae distinctly remembers the night Y/N told her the truth about their family life - or the lack thereof - almost a year since the two had started dating. Rae never questioned their secretiveness and respected their privacy enough not to ask about it, patiently waiting for them to tell her on their own time and own terms. It was no secret even from the very start that Y/N had a very hard time connecting to people and trusting them. It took them maybe two or so months to be able to call their now-girlfriend a friend instead of an acquaintance. Rae didn’t question that too, didn’t push to pursue a friendship with them since, from her point of view, they were already her friend, so she patiently waited for them to come around and start trusting her enough to accept her within their tightknit circle of trusted people called ‘friends’. 

Things progressed from purely platonic to sweetly romantic a little more quickly which pleasantly surprised Rae. The two were quick to grow to be inseparable though that didn’t mean Y/N gave up all their secrets. The darkest one, which happens to be this one regarding their mother, is the one they hid the longest and the last one they had to share with their girlfriend.  The night they did tell it was a very emotional one: plenty of tears were shed by both Y/N and Rae but luckily they had each other’s embrace to seek comfort in and protect themselves from the ghosts and demons of a past Y/N spent so much time running away from.

An abusive parent is not a bit of baggage you can just get rid of. It’s something that weighs so heavy on you and is such a big part of who you are that you can feel it as a part of you. It haunts you no matter how much you try to run or hide. It’s not something you can shake off or forget. You might have physical and visible scars from the time spent with said parent or the trauma can be entirely psychological - regardless, it lives within you. Follows you around, raises questions you’re not sure you want answered, degrades you - making it seem like what happened was your fault in one way or another - it destroys you slowly very time something triggers a memory of that time, be it a simple conversation that has nothing to do with the subject or be it the glimpse you accidentally catch in the mirror of a scar on your body - a scar you remember being inflicted on you like it was yesterday.

That’s how Y/N’s been living. Feeling responsible, feeling unloved, feeling chained to their past. They’ve done all in their power to appear unbothered and let it be visible, not even when around Rae since they don’t want to worry her.

But seeing as their past has caught up to them now and they inevitably have to face it, they’re forced to let it show, they couldn’t hold it in even if they tried. Although they don’t wanna play the unbothered, unfazed part any longer. They have been strong on their own for far too long and it’s taken a toll on them. If they keep up with the act, they’ll be completely and utterly crushed.

Not that they’re feeling any better at the moment.

“Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me. Keep your eyes on me, ok? Take deep breaths. Deep breaths, baby. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. It’s ok. You’re ok.“ Their short-circuiting brain has been spasming under the influence of the adrenaline, anxiety and panic brought on by the memories of every time they felt small and helpless while at the merciless hand of their alcoholic, drug addict abusive mother, begging to be spared the pain of being hit with whatever object the deranged woman could get her hands on - yet somehow, Rae’s voice still reaches them through all that messy dark fog. “Come on, Y/N, stay with me ok? Please don’t do this, I’m right here, there’s no need to be afraid,”

“I...“ they can barely hear their own voice over the racing of their heart, “I don’t...I don’t wanna go....“ is all they manage to say, a tear falling from their eye.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to go. We won’t go. Your mental health is the most important thing here, Y/N. We’re not going and that’s final.“ Rae replies vigorously, tightening her hold on Y/N’s hands.

Despite the state they’re in, Y/N can’t help but take notice of the use of the word ‘we’, Rae’s reminder that they are not alone, that she’s there for them and will not let them go into this alone. That brings a small smile to their face, calming their heart and panic ever so slightly, “N-no, I have to. It...it’ll help me.” They sigh before attempting to express themself again, “It’ll give me...closure, I guess.”

Seeing that Y/N’s doing a bit better, Rae’s hand move to cup their face instead, pushing the stray strands of hair away for their features to be full exposed to her, especially their eyes, “Are you sure you want that? Can you handle it? It’s not supposed to be your obligation, Y/N. I mean, the woman’s a monster and she hasn’t even thought to contact you in half a decade, and now she suddenly wants to get back in contact? She has the audacity to disturb you after all this time? You don’t have to agree to this, Y/N.”

Y/N shakes their head, “No, no, I want to. I want to agree to this. I want to live a normal life, Rae. I want to leave her and all she did to me behind. And I can’t do that if I keep running away. What happens when I stop to catch my breath? It still catches up to me like I made no progress whatsoever. That’s not a way to live, not the way I wanna live, at least.”

Rae nods slowly, fully understanding what Y/N is referring to. She maybe hasn’t said anything about it ever, but she’s always seen that little bit of darkness behind the happiness and excitement Y/N always displayed. Rae’s heart ached every time she caught glimpse of those little signs Y/N was putting on a performance while actually hurting on the inside. 

And if a meeting with their mother was what would help them finally fully embrace a happy life, then who was she to stop them.

“Ok.“ The girl sighs, “Ok, we’ll go see her, but only if you’re 100% sure you’ll be able to handle it.“

They shake their head again, sighing with unease, “I can never be 100% sure, my emotions have a tendency of being unpredictable so I’ll just have to pray I don’t have a breakdown or a panic attack.”

Rae swipes her thumb over their cheekbone wiping the tear that just escaped their eye, “If you do, don’t worry, I’ll be right there. You know the drill: squeeze my hand, take deep breaths and most importantly, don’t forget I’m there for you. Ok?”

Y/N nods their head, the small smile reappearing on their face. They squeeze Rae’s hand and take a long inhale. “Hand squeeze, deep breaths, noted.” They say when their eyes meet hers, “Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you so much for putting up with me and all my shit and thank you so much for never giving up on me no matter how much work I am or how hard dealing with me and my demons becomes.”

Rae’s heart stings at Y/N’s words, tears brimming her eyes when she raises a bit on her knees to press her lips against Y/N’s forehead. “Don’t thank me, angel. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and I never want to get gratitude for it. Love doesn’t ask for gratitude, and neither do I.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh to cover up an emotional sob that escapes their lungs. “I love you, Rae.” They say with a trembling voice.

“I love you too, Y/N.“

This time, the Y/N’s lips met the lips of their girlfriend, reminding themself that their safe haven isn’t a place, it’s a person - their girlfriend who means the world to them.

[dangermousie]

Look at those arms! MMMMM!

You know, I really like Gilina. Or, more correctly, I really like what Gilina represents, both in terms of Crichton’s development and in his feelings for Aeryn. Gilina is Earth Crichton’s dream girl: she is blonde, pretty, sweet, and plucky (she is no push-over). She is also a girl geek, and a techie and for our scientist, that’s quite irresistibly appealing. (Btw, let me take a moment to note how much I like that the show showed us that Crichton had a type in women, B.A. (before Aeryn): they were blonde and sweet and had a certain safe niceness to them. Aeryn is not blonde, not sweet, and not safe at all. And neither is his feeling for her). If Gilina was a girl working for a research institute on Earth and she and John met at some party, I can easily see them talking, dating, falling in love and getting married. And having a happy married life. And the John of ‘PK Tech Girl,’ despite some unpleasant encounters in the Uncharted Territories is still enough of the Earth John to be attracted to Gilina, to be at the very beginning of developing something for her. He is still enough of an innocent, with enough uncomplicated and sweet left in him, for Gilina to be his type. But of course, that is not the case any more when they meet again in ‘Nerve.’ When they meet again, Gilina has had a fairly uneventful PK tech existence. She hasn’t changed much. But she is not Crichton’s type any more. Not after Maldis and finding out firsthand that there are psychopaths that will just enjoy watching you die for the fun of it, not after Crais and finding out that no, if you only explain the truth, it won’t make it better. The person will still want to kill you even if they believe you, even if it’s wrong and irrational, and there is nothing you can do. Not after ‘Jeremiah Crichton’ (my least fave ep of the whole show, but whose theme of Crichton’s long isolation is well taken). Not after finding out the truth about Zhaan, or almost dying out there in space with Aeryn. Not after the mind and soul fuck of ‘A Human Reaction.’   Gilina is not for this John. Not any more. And it’s not just that in the meanwhile he’s ceased to see anyone but Aeryn. It is also that his character has changed. And that is only the beginning. When he meets her in ‘Nerve’ it is pre-Scorpius, pre-Aurora Chair, pre-everything in S2, 3 and 4 (I’d do a list but it would take too long to type). If Gilina met S4 Crichton, she’d freak and run away and rightly so. A digression, but I find it fascinating how John's non-Aeryn women reflect his change. We have his ex-gf on Earth who he was serious enough to apparently want to propose to, before they went their separate career way. She is sort of like Gilina only blander, less engaging (Earth Crichton strikes me as someone who's had things come to him too easily because of his intelligence or what not. His passion (for whatever) was never truly engaged to the full, and the gf reflects that.) There is also Caroline (who we meet in Terra Firma) with whom he had something or other, but she is rather like his Earth-ex and it's clear the Crichton of TF doesn't even have anything to say to her any more. From them, we progress to Gilina (about whom see above). In first half of S2, there is the PK Disruptor. Now, she is a lot more edges, more hardness. If she is like anyone, it's a female version of Bond. And Crichton sleeps with her, because hey, he's tried everything to get Aeryn to admit any interest, he's beaten his head against the rock and he's beaten it and beaten it. But she refused and she's conclusively walked out of his life for good (not even came to see him for the very last time, when he needed her most). And also, girl can kill him, good to stay on her good side. There is no Gilina sweetness in her, at all. PK Tech Girl Crichton would annoy her and be intimidated to be with her, not so much Crichton of that s2 ep arc. But interestingly, that is the last time he even looks at another woman, no matter the circumstances. Once Aeryn and he admit their love to each other at the end of S2/beginning of S3, that is it. Even at the second part of S3, when Aeryn is off with Talyn-Crichton, Moya-Crichton goes deep into his obsession with wormholes, not any girls at all, and he is just as obsessed with Aeryn as ever. Even after the end of S3, the beginning of S4, even after he tells Aeryn "I can trust you with my life. But not my heart" and he locks himself away, he still does not look at anyone else. He cannot. And even the drugs cannot knock her out from his mind. Which is why his last non-Aeryn woman is Grayza, who rapes him while at the same time telling him if he gives her the wormhole stuff she will help him find Aeryn (OMG, that bit is seriously the worst in the whole scene). I think the darker progression of these women-others mirrors the darker and darker universe. OK, digression over.   I find it interesting that in S1 we have a number of people (beings, whatever) whose life is affected, changed by Crichton and who are grateful for that and thank him for changing/opening/saving either explicitly, or it’s implied. But after S1 this slows to a trickle pretty fast and then stops almost entirely. Crichton is such an innately kind person, and one of the saddest things in the show is seeing this kindness leach away under the tortures (literal and figurative) he is subjected to. I find it so sad and so significant that in the S3 finale it’s Aeryn who brings up the fact that the command carrier has a lot of lives which John’s plan might end. Aeryn. Not John. She’s become more compassionate (she, who started out saying ‘I hate that word’) and he’s become much less. These are both reactions to their environment, to events they are in (When they initially meet, she is a product of an individuality-less, soulless scenario. Even if he is wrong in reading her at the very very first in Premiere during intros, he is not wrong in reading her potential, in recognizing she is a person, and even as early as Premiere she proves him right. I also love that for Crichton, she is always her own person, not a preconceived notion of what she should be. He loves her for being Aeryn, not for some idealized being in his head). And yet it is never completely suppressed, it is always there, however muted and downtrodden, however circumscribed. He had to jettison most of it in order to stay sane and to survive, but somewhere deep inside he is still the guy who, in a completely strange world, took the time to fix the eye-stalk of a mechanical critter thingy he didn’t know at all.   And of course, part of the reason he jettisons it is also because whenever he tries to save someone or make it better, it often ends up making the situation worse. I am thinking for example of S3’s lovely ‘Different Destinations’ which turns a beloved sci-fi trope on its head and he has to live with it and he can barely bear it.   And I love how the show never lets us forget the cost this takes on him, that he is not a power-hungry psychopath, a cavalier callous being only caring about his small group of friends. That coda to S4’s ‘We Are So Screwed’ where he is with Aeryn, and he breaks down, and he can’t help it, and he weeps for what he’d done, for what he almost did (and it’s going to be small fry in comparison with PKW) is just brilliant and heartbreaking and one of my favorite bits (and I love that she is there, and she silently comforts him, and he clutches her arm as a lifeline). And that is why I actually liked the drug storyline in S4. After all the stuff that Crichton been through, I am surprised he didn’t end up going on something earlier, just to deal with it all somehow (I love that the show brought up earlier that he has nightmares, feels tremendous guilt, and that was mid S2, I am sure they are much worse now). And it also made sense that when his number 1 obsession, Aeryn, told him to give it up, he did, as he’d pick her over anything. She’s his number 1 drug. Basically, he needs Aeryn desperately. She is what allows him to function, allows him to stay (relatively) sane, what holds him together. When he can’t have her, or doesn’t have her, he falls apart and needs something else to get through the days (wormholes in S3, lakka in S4). I do find it interesting that Crichton keeps his compassion, however tattered, but he develops absolute priorities, as a result of choices he shouldn’t have had to make. Most people don’t really analyze whether they will pick the woman they love or selling one’s soul and giving up something which earlier, to protect, you didn’t give up even when tortured or hunted or broken. They don’t have to. Crichton’s developed rigid priorities are a result of the environment where he had to confront those hierarchies in himself. Crichton’s earlier ‘purity’ and goodness and optimism exist in part because he is a product of a relatively sheltered life (compared to Uncharted Territories). But that early cleanness allows others to see a better or at least a different path for themselves and so they repay the favor later by pulling him out when he is on the brink of succumbing to all these horrors (which really do seem to be scarily disproportionately triggered at him). One of the things I love about Crichton is that even after he’s seen and dealt horrors, he has a certain moral absolutism to him (however broken it gets at times) and a pure refusal to give up, and strength even if only to make the least worst of two bad choices presented to him. Something untainted is always there, maybe a legacy of his initial idealism, and so he never breaks, not permanently, not irreparably, though he comes very very close. Throughout the show, even as that world bends and molds and twists him to its own parameters, he manages to make the world somewhat bend and mold and twist to himself.   Do you know what I really really wish for John and Aeryn and the kid after the end of PKW? A few years of total peace, where they can just travel the space in Moya, and John can do his research, and be with Aeryn and watch their child grow, without having to worry about saving his and their lives every other day.

OK, these are getting epically long omg.

[geekgirles]

Your Heart

Chapter 7 -- Black Hearts

Word Count: 15131

READ ON AO3

For many, the Ghost Zone landscape would be chilling, at best, and nightmare-inducing, at worst. Unlike Earth and its well-defined limits, both natural and manmade, the Infinite Realms consisted of an infinite abyss of floating ectoplasmーif you travelled, you knew where your journey would start, but not where it ended. Most people didn’t even know when it ended, either. 

Only a few experienced visitors were knowledgeable enough to recognise each and every one of its landmarks to guide them. Fortunately for Danny, he was one such experienced visitor. As well as an inhabitant. 

Maybe he didn’t know the Ghost Zone like the palm of his invisible hand, like Sojourn had in his day, but seven years of travelling back and forth between dimensions had certainly outlined a pretty accurate map of the dimension in his mind’s eye. That, and the fact that the Far Frozen trusted him with the Infi-Map now and then also helped. 

But even he had to admit, crossing over to the other side during his first few months as halfa had been terrifying. His past self would never have been able to believe he’d one day be flying around what was on the other side of his parents’ portal like he walked down the halls of Casper High every day of the week for four years. 

Indeed. Getting to see the Ghost Zone for the first time had been even more mind-boggling than getting used to suddenly being able to walk through the walls, disappear, and fly. Compared to Amity Park, his kingdomーhe didn’t think he’d ever get used to calling it thatーwas a haunted house, sponsored by Bill Gates and provided with cutting edge animatronic and holographic technology, and open all year long. 

Well, it would have been sponsored by Bill Gates if it weren’t for Vlad overshadowing him and selling the company to himself years ago. 

Considering he’d rather die (twice) than buy anything belonging to VladCo, Danny found himself being very glad the Ghost Zone was no haunted house, after all. 

Now, however, he’d learned to appreciate the Infinite Realms for what they were; unpredictably beautiful. The once creepy light coming from the floating ectoplasm now reminded him of the groovy vibes one got from a lava lamp. Both substances were, in fact, pretty similar! Since ghosts created their own lairs, he didn’t have to worry over solving any sort of problem related to lack of affordable housing; unlike what he’d have to do had he been, say, mayor of Amity Park? President of the United States? And the repair damages were minimum! Ghosts didn’t usually throw rocks at their own roofs, so battles inside the Ghost Zone were rare. 

Of course, that last one thing was a bit of a double-edged sword. Because it meant that while he didn’t have to worry about the possible destruction of the Ghost Zone, it also meant his subjects usually blew off steam in Amity Park...which then came to bite him in the ass in the form of a very angry mob of ghost-hating citizens.

The joys of living in two parallel dimensions at the same time…

Shaking those thoughts away, Danny refocused his attention on the current task at hand; patrolling the Zone in case anybody chose to ignore his orders and go against the witches during their next visit. 

He’d be lying if he said nobody had warned him of the reaction his plan would most likely get from his subjects, both Frostbite and Clockwork let him know several times, long before he even sent the letter to Lady Arcana. Well, in all fairness, Frostbite had warned him; Clockwork just kept smirking at him with those all-knowing, secretive, red eyes of his. The only real warning he’d got from him was when he asked for his opinion on what’d happen and the Ghost of Time limited himself to raising his eyebrow at him with a, “What do you think?”

When he wanted to be, Clockwork was an invaluable ally and a great mentor. But that was only when he wanted to be, mind you. The rest of the time his smug crypticness was enough to make Danny want to throw himself off of a cliff.

But they’d both been right when they told him his subjects would not react kindly to the presence of witches in their realm. Who would’ve known phantom tomatoes acted just like the Fenton Foamer? If it didn’t put him in immediate danger, he would bring some home for his parents. 

In the end, the only way to convince them to let the witches in was to ensure a powerful ghost would keep an eye on them at all times. Skulker would escort them to his lair, and from then on he’d be watching them himself. 

Even if the spirits had eventually given in to his request, Danny knew better. He’d be a fool to think his advice would be heeded by every single inhabitant of the Ghost Zone. He had far too many enemies for that. 

While most of his adversaries had turned into more of friendly rivals than outright enemies over the years, being capable of having civilised conversations with him whenever they weren’t trying to waste him or enslave Amity Park, there were many others who refused to bow down before a halfa. Ever since Pariah Dark was defeated the first time, ghosts had got used to living in anarchy, being able to do whatever they wanted as long as they were smart enough to not invade a more powerful ghost’s turf. So following some random half-ghost’s orders after centuries of chaos and freedom was out of the question for them. 

On the one hand, many of Danny’s detractors were actually as delusional as the Box Ghost. More often than not, he’d be battling rogue spirits with barely formed physical bodies who were in way over their heads. Normally a few ecto-rays, some quick banter, and a little bit of Fenton Thermos was enough to take care of them. 

But, on the other hand, the few more powerful ghosts who weren’t members of his usual rogue gallery truly sought to dethrone him. If they eliminated him in the process, even better! 

Obviously, the most notorious member of this group was none other than Plasmius. The older halfa had orchestrated Pariah’s return with the intention of defeating him and becoming the next Ghost King himself, after all. And for what? To have his teenage, much less experienced archnemesis steal the crown right under his nose. 

Danny had to admit, if it weren’t for the high price to pay that came with the honour wearing the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire (an ‘honour’ he didn’t even want to have in the first place), he would’ve enjoyed screwing over with the fruitloop like that.

Ever since he became Ghost King, Vlad’s plans had been few and in between. Maybe a few attempts at making his life a living Hell, some shudder-worthy upgrades on his Maddie Programーhe swore, if he had to listen to a hologram of his mother call that demented creep ‘lambchop’ one more time, first, he was going to barf, second, he’d see red, or in his case, greenー, perhaps a few ill-conceived attempts at getting him to join him…

Despite Vlad’s inactivity, however, Danny knew better than to think he was just getting sloppy. Knowing Plasmius and his love for playing chessmaster, he was patiently biding his time. Sooner or later, he’d hear from him, and it wouldn’t be good. 

Still, even if he was his greatest enemy in terms of personal interactions, Vlad wasn’t his most menacing foe in terms of sheer danger. 

Spectra and Bertrand also wanted him gone, due to seeing his intervention as interference with their misery-sucking plans. Indeed, since he became Ghost King Danny was extra careful with who left the Ghost Zone and who was absolutely forbidden from even looking at a portal twice.

For example, knowing Kitty, she’d just want to go out on a date with Johnny, and, on paper, there was nothing wrong with that. Trouble came when Johnny ogled and hit on other girls with his girlfriendーrightーbesideーhim! Honestly, if he were Kitty, he’d pummel Johnny, too. Especially because his actions more often than not resulted in a jealous ghost girl causing mayhem.

The most useful life lesson he’d learned while going through puberty was also one of the firsts: girls were scary. And that seemed to apply to all girls regardless of their species; humans, ghosts, witches, gorillas…

Spectra was no exception. Due to her need for misery to keep herself young and powerful, the shadowy ghost needed to learn how to get under her victims’ skin to exploit their weakness to the point of making them miserable enough to harvest. And, Danny knew from experience, that was far more frightening than any other ghostly power Spectra could ever possess. 

She saw beyond people’s masks, no matter how carefully crafted they were, and got inside your head. Not only did she know your biggest fears and insecurities, but how to exploit them and make them all come true. She forced you to live your worst nightmares over and over, almost as if she were Nocturne's far more malevolent accomplice, reaping your fears like a farmer would reap wheat. 

Spectra threw those insecurities in your face, reminding you that you weren’t good enough, explaining to you why you weren’t good enough, and assuring you would never be good enough; all in that sadistic, cheery tone of voice of hers. Just thinking about it was enough to send chills down his spine.

But what was truly the most daunting thing about Spectra was that, for years, she’d been feeding off of some poor kid’s low self-esteem and personal issues under the pretext of being a psychologist. Her office back in Casper High before he found out the truth and defeated her was full of pictures of her and sickly-looking kids; her previous victims. Dozens of kids who were completely at her mercy because she’d spent years roaming freely around Earth, blending in, long before he was even born, let alone had the accident. Dozens of kids who’d surely been as deeply traumatised as he’d been. Or, even worse, dozens of kids Spectra managed to push over the edge, under the guise of helping them. 

That psychotic old hag and her lap dog had a special place in his black list just for their mere potential of becoming a threat, let alone when they truly were threatening. As a result, one of the things he wasted no time in as soon as he became Ghost King was to ensure they wouldn’t be going back to Earth in a very long time. 

Needless to say, his interference with their ‘feasts’ was enough to have them declare war on him. Well, let them come. He’d be waiting for them.

Another ghost who tended to give him quite a headache whenever he felt like taking his turn at challenging him was the Fright Knight. Back in their first encounter, his first Halloween after gaining his powers, Danny believed he was a formidable foe. Incredibly powerful and hellbent on turning the world into his nightmarish kingdom, the Fright Knight used to be one of his most dangerous adversaries. 

Key word being ‘used to.’ Well, that was two words, but whatever. 

In their next encounter, which, coincidentally, also happened to be when Pariah Dark was released (thanks again, Vlad), the almighty, terrifying, ‘flaming sheets of doom’ Fright Knight had been relegated to errand boy. 

As Danny would soon come to realise, the Ancient Spirit of Halloween was proud, but tremendously cowardly.  

If he believed himself superior to his opponent, he would show no  mercy. But the moment he was one-upped by someone else in terms of power, he’d cower and bow down in submission. Which made their personal relationship with each other all the more interesting. 

In terms of power, Danny knew, maybe a little too smugly, that he had the upper hand. Whereas in their first battle he managed to defeat the Fright Knight just barely, years of ghost-fighting, of developing new powers, and of being in possession of the ring and crown (which he still refused to use unless it was absolutely necessary), had shaped him into a formidable fighter. 

And the Fright Knight knew that, which was why he often avoided conflict with him. 

In terms of respect, however, due to Danny being extremely young compared to other powerful ghosts, the way he ascended the throne and, to add insult to injury, the fact he was half-human, the medieval-like spirit refused to accept him as his ruler. Hence, his rare attempts at taking him down. 

All in all, even if the Fright Knight quite wasn’t the same threat he once was, Danny knew he still should watch out for him. Because for all his self-importance, the Halloween Spirit really was undergod material, and that meant whoever employed him would be much worse than him…

Like Vlad.

Other than Plasmius, Spectra, Bertrand, and the Fright Knight, the other ghosts who challenged his rule were the god-like ones; Undergrowth, Nocturne, Vortex… But they usually kept true to their goals of world domination so it wasn’t much of an issue, in a way. 

While he hadn’t had an encounter with any of his old nemesis for a while, it was all a matter of time before they chose to use his tentative alliance with the witches against him. Which brought him to his current patrol. As he oversaw the vast infinity of the Ghost Zone, steering away from Ghost Writer’s manorーanother lovely fella who didn’t quite like  him, even if he surely wouldn’t try to usurp the throneー, Danny used his vantage point to make sure no suspicious activity was going on. 

Just as he was about to call it a night, his eyes caught sight of three familiar silhouettes standing on top of a drifting chunk of rock not far away from him. Furrowing his eyes in suspicion, he sped up to catch up with them. In a matter of seconds, he’d flown across the distance separating him from his target until he was floating above the unimpressed expressions belonging to Ember McLain, Johnny 13, and Kitty. 

The three of them seemed to be loitering around on top of the aforementioned drifting chunk of rock, looking bored and completely uninterested in anything around them. They almost looked like a bunch of teenagers just hanging out. Kitty was seated, cross-legged, on top of the bike seat, her elbows propped on her knees and her hands cupping her face. Beside her, Johnny was leaning against his bike, arms crossed. A few feet away from them, sitting on a rock with one leg crossed on her other knee, Ember was mindlessly tuning her guitar. That wasn’t suspicious at all...

Over the years, some of his most recurring opponents decided to upgrade their look, like Technusーthe guy was more fashion-oriented than Paulina Sanchez from high schoolー, while others remained mostly the same but with a few added upgrades to their modus operandi, such as Skulker. 

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, depending on how you looked at it, the hunter’s girlfriendーhe had to physically stop his gag reflex from acting up whenever he so much as thought of those two as a coupleーchose to remain true to her signature look. The same flaming, blue ponytail; the same tight, asymmetrical, black outfit; the same haunting green eyes and exaggerated make-up that contrasted greatly with her deathly pale skin… 

All in all, Ember was pretty much the same. Still loud, still vying for attention, still obsessed with leading teenage rebellion through music...And she still had the same awful taste in boyfriends. Although, he supposed, in a way Skulker wasn’t as bad a catch as her best friend’s beau. 

Kitty did change her outfit, albeit slightly. Though she still favored her signature combination of black and red with just a touch of green, she’d abandoned her classical red miniskirt and fishnet stockings for a pair of skin-tight, red leather jeans.  Instead of her mid calf boots, she currently wore a pair of black, ankle boots. She still wore a black tank top, too, only this time it was much looserーjust like she also had the same green pendant. As for her unruly, green hair...she chose to wear it up in two twin buns, fittingly shaped after cat ears, each on either side of her head; with two loose strands framing her face. A pair of fingerless, black biker gloves completed the ensemble.

Everything about her screamed ‘biker chick’, the only thing missing was her own bike.

Maybe, tired of Johnny blowing her off, she’d decided to show him she was as much of a biker as he was, if not more. Or, maybe, she opted to dress that way precisely to remind her boyfriend and everybody else just who was Johnny’s girlfriend. 

Honestly, the girl was sweet (sometimes), but she was a mystery. For all the complaining she did about Johnny, that certainly didn’t stop her from getting a 13 ーhis unlucky numberーtattooed on her right arm.  Danny just wondered if Johnny had a kitten or anything even remotely resembling one tattooed anywhere on his own body. 

...on second thought, he’d rather not think about it.

Johnny himself had changed a little, too, although nowhere near as much or as drastically as his girlfriend. To be honest, he looked exactly the same as always, except for his blond hair now being long enough to be tied in a low ponytailーKitty was right; it was greasyーand foregoing his trademark jacket, opting for just wearing his white undershirt and fingerless gloves, instead. But now that Danny thought about it, didn’t he use to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt, too? Whatever, back in the day  it was hard to tell with his jacket anyway. Other than that, he was the same Johnny 13 who once tried to trick Jazz into becoming a vessel for his girlfriend. 

Suspicion spiking up, Danny floated over towards them, still keeping a respectful distance in case Ember felt like playing a killer riff for his ears only. “What’re you three up to?” He didn’t feel like beating around the bush.

Their heads shooting up at the sound of his voice, the three ghosts looked surprised for less than a second, before adopting the same bored masks again. Though, to be honest, only the girls appeared bored with his presence, Johnny, on the other hand, looked annoyed, his eyes narrowing in distaste on him.

“What do you want, kid?” He spat. 

Danny had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Again with the ‘kid’ treatment. It was always the ‘kid’ treatment. Never mind that he’d been a legal adult for three years now. “I asked you first, Johnny. But since you’re asking so kindly,” he deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. He really didn’t have patience for this anymore, “I’ll repeat myself; what are you three up to?” He repeated, this time sounding more serious. 

The biker ghost answered by letting out a puff of air, vexed. “What, now we can’t even chill in our own home? Are you going to give us a ticket for loitering or something?” He challenged, slowly making his way over to the halfa, trying to appear intimidating. 

He walked calmly, almost calculatingly so, with his face morphed into a wicked grin, one that promised trouble. Once he was close enough to look Phantom in the eye, the two entered a silent staring contest, the tension between them flickering up. Even if the Ghost Kid looked much calmer than Johnny felt, he wouldn’t back down. “Your precious thermos won’t be of any help now.”

Side-glancing their testosterone levels rising from where she was, Kitty let out a huff. Hopping from the biker seat, she squeezed herself in between the two and separated them, both of her hands planted firmly on their chest. “Will you quit it, you two? Nobody’s buying this faux animosity you have going on.”

Knowing they’d been busted, the two jokingly moaned in disappointment, before sharing knowing glances and breaking down laughing. And all the biker girl could do in response was roll her eyes and shake her head, letting her face fall in her hand in exasperation while her boyfriend grabbed Danny by his shoulders and pulled him down, ruffling his snow-white hair with his knuckles. Really, the only difference between grown ass men and children was the size. 

“Careful, dipstick. That techno geek of yours is going to get jealous if you keep flirting with others behind his back.” Ember said, watching everything from her rock with a smirk on her face. 

“FYI, Tucker and I have an open relationship.” The half-ghost wasn’t above blowing a raspberry at her, making her roll her eyes in irritation. He also couldn’t prevent the snickers from escaping his throat at the sight of Kitty painfully elbowing Johnny on the side when he suggested if they could have an open relationship, too.

“With the way you’re constantly hitting on other girls, one’d think we’re already in one.” She pointed out hotly, her fist on her hips. “Besides, we both know you wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing me with other guys.” 

“I can attest to that.” Danny added, remembering not-so-fondly the days he wistfully thought he was dating Paulina when, in truth, he was in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Johnny just rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to play innocent. 

“But now seriously, what are you guys doing?”

“You know, it really is offensive that you see us doing absolutely nothing and your first instinct is to think there’s something going on.” The biker crossed his arms over his chest, displeased. 

“Oh, ignore him.” Kitty told him, putting her hand over the halfa’s shoulder. Even if it’d all been a scheme to make Johnny jealous, Kitty had sort of developed a soft spot for him. As long as he didn’t get in her way, she was one of the less antagonistic ghosts. Danny, in return, often let her and Johnny ‘sightsee’ around Amity Park, as long as they kept themselves out of trouble. “Though we really are doing nothing. Is there a reason why you’d think otherwise, Danny?”

Before the green-eyed boy could come up with a good excuse, Ember’s mocking voice beat him to it. “Oh, please, Kitkat! You should know better than that; he’s obviously got his whities in a twist because of those three harpies that so generously grace us with their presence.” She said in a fake, sugary-sweet voice. Sliding her guitar over her shoulders, the popstar got up from her seat and walked over to the other three. “By the way, shouldn’t they be gone soon? ‘Cause I’d really rather they don’t become regular visitors.”

At the mention of the witches, the easy-going atmosphere immediately tensed up. Just like Ember, Johnny and Kitty were now looking at him, expectantly. It was obvious no ghost appreciated their presence in their dimension. Coughing uncomfortable, Danny rubbed the back of his neck. How did he put this in a way they’d understand? And, most importantly, that wouldn’t encourage them to kill him? “Let’s just say...there’s no expiration date for this.”

“What?!” Growling, Ember’s ponytail flared up, a clear indicator that she wasn’t taking the news well. “What the Hell does that mean, dipstick?”

“Yeah, man! Don’t you know what those rune-reading bitches did the last time we let them near us? What do you mean you don’t know when this’ll be over?!” Johnny demanded, summoning a spectral chain out of thin air. Beside him, Kitty had a hand over her lips. But rather than looking surprised, it was evident she planned to blow his Majesty one of her famous, other-worldly kisses.

Distancing himself from them by rising up once more, his palms up in surrender, Danny tried placating them. That was the problem of having friendly rivals: everything was cool between you until you said something that irked them, then they’d try to destroy without much reservation. “Guys, trust me. I don’t like this any more than you do. But it’s our only choice! Do you seriously want to let the Ghost Zone collapse?!”

That made them settle down. But their glowing, menacing eyes urged him to go on, demanding answers. Sighing, he tried to gather his thoughts. How could he explain to them what he barely understood himself? On their next meeting he was going to demand some answers out of Lady Arcana; no way would he let her hog all the information while he remained in the dark. “Apparently, the witches are a little...rusty, you could say. They’re not as in sync with the portals as they used to be, so the Witch Queen needs to put in the effort to find a solution. That’s why it’s taken us longer than expected to put an end to this”

“And how do you know she’s not lying through her teeth?” Ember questioned in distrust. “That’s what they’re good at; if they need anything out of you, they’ll earn your trust. But the moment they’re done using you, they have no qualms as to what’ll happen to you next.”

“Ember’s got a point.” Kitty agreed. “How do we know they’re not just using us to get something out of us only to ditch us the moment they got whatever that is?” Then, she gasped as a horrible realisation dawned on her. “Even worse...How do we know they aren’t the ones responsible for everything?”

As the three ghosts began chattering and theorising amongst themselves, Danny tried to get their attention back on him. “Guys...Guys, listen...Guys, come on…” Seeing as they wouldn’t be paying attention to him any time soon, he lost his patience. “Would you just listen to me?!”

Satisfied that his abrupt outburst had shut them up, he smirked, before growing wary again. “I understand your concerns, because, honestly, they're mine, too. I know we can’t let our guards down around them; they’re not like the rest of humans. They aren’t a group of ghost hunters with advanced tech, or even more halfas who decided to turn their backs on the Ghost Zone and create their own society. They’re humans that were born with powers; they’re freaks of nature! 

“But they’re also our safest bet right now. The Guys in White are too busy looking for ways to haunt me down or for stores that sell all-white clothes to even know how the ghost portals work. Not to mention, they’re too stupid to realise that destroying our world destroys Earth, too.” He rolled his eyes at that. The only thing worse than a pain in the butt was a useless pain in the butt. “Vlad would demand I pass the throne to him in exchange for his help, and we all know how that’d turn out.” He felt a small sort of satisfaction at their cringing faces. “And no ghost understands the mysterious nature behind the ghost portals. The only beings who’ve ever been able to surpass the lass separating both worlds are the witches; I’m sorry guys, but they’re really our only hope.”

“How do we know we can trust them?” Johnny insisted, not one to back down.

“We don’t.” was Danny’s reply, and he felt more defeated than in any previous fight. 

The three ghosts exchanged glances, a silent conversation going on between them. Out of the three of them, Ember was the most antagonistic; if she really wanted to, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack him. The lovebirds were a different thing entirely. Most of the time Kitty was content just hanging out, and Johnny’s main goal was to please her, for things got ugly whenever his girlfriend wasn’t pleased… Having said that, just like they could act as just another couple of teenagers or young adults (he never really asked for their ages…), they could turn on him in the blink of an eye. 

Dreading their reactions, Danny kept himself aloft. Close enough so they wouldn’t suspect, but far enough so he’d have enough of a head start to get the Hell out of there. 

Finally, the three turned their heads to look at him. The fiery spirit was the one to speak. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Her question sent the snow-white haired boy reeling. What did he plan to do about it? In all honesty, it was a good question. Even if he hadn’t seen Lady Arcana and her kind in actionーbeyond a floating book being shoved in his face, that isー, judging from what had been recorded in the Far Frozen’s archives and Sojourn’s journal, they were to be feared. Danny knew how to deal with rogue spirits and even ghost hunters, since his powers usually provided him with the upper hand, but actual reality warpers whose powers he knew next to nothing about? He wasn’t so sure how he’d fare in a fight against them.

Still, he was nothing if he wasn’t resourceful, and holding their meetings in the Ghost Zone gave him a certain advantage over a group of foreigners. He’d find a way. He had to. “Everything in my power.” He answered truthfully. 

“I see.” Even though Ember didn’t look particularly impressed with his answer, she let it go. Walking over to her previous seat, her friends following her example, she called out to Danny over her shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. “So, anything to report, dipstick? How’s the missus back home?”

“Har har… Very funny, Ember.” The Ghost King replied sardonically. “You know I’m single.”

“Then you’d better watch out for all your rabid fangirls waiting for their chance to claim you as theirs, baby!” The popstar cackled maliciously. “Seriously, they’re like savage beasts! Lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce.” She sighed as her laughter died down, pretending to wipe a tear off the corner of her eye. “Sucks to be you.”

“At least Dash Baxter is not part of my fanclub, unlike some other ghost I know...” He retorted, smugly. His smirk widened at the sight of Ember physically shuddering in disgust. 

“That was low.” She accused, and all she got in response was a noncommittal shrug.

Eying their conversation with increasing interest, Johnny couldn’t help but add his two cents. “Cut her some slack, man. At least Ember isn’t responsible for the dude’s gay awakening.” 

Grinning madly, Ember high-fived him while Kitty rolled her eyes at their antics in amusement, obviously used to them by now. And Danny….Danny didn’t know why he even talked to those guys. Flinching at the implications behind the biker’s jab, he opted to not dignify that with an answer. 

“Can we change the topic to...I don’t know...literally anything else?” He begged. He’d have to bleach his brain to get the image of Dash making a Danny Phantom shrine, not unlike Paulina’s, out of his head. 

Covering her mouth to quiet her chuckles down, Kitty took pity on him. “Guess who’s going to improv classes in her free time?”

Oh, Kitty. Sweet, compassionate, clingy, jealous Kitty. That was why she was his favourite...after Cujo. And Wulf...and after Dora...she was far behind Frostbite, too, that was for sure... Basically, his favourite after any other ghost he officially was on better terms with. But, hey, the intention’s what counts. “You want to be an actress?”

“It’s a nice hobby.” She shrugged before pointing her thumb at her boyfriend, looking unimpressed. “I’ve tried getting Johnny to come with me, but he just won’t budge.”

Danny pretended he didn’t notice the way Johnny, oh so subtly, inched a little further away from her. “Sorry, Babe. You know I love you, but that’s your passion, not mine.”

“And riding bikes is your passion, but at least I’m still there to support you!”

Uh, oh. The classic bike over girlfriend argument...The ghost biker had better come up with a good enough retort or Danny would be stuck trying to do damage control when they took the fight outside. And by ‘outside’ he meant Amity Park. Landing beside him, Danny elbowed the teenager lightly on the ribs. 

At first Johnny just glared at him, but when the halfa returned his glare with a pointed look of his own, he caught his drill. “Don’t be like that, babe! You know I could never replace you. Thing’s just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

There was a twisted irony in the fact that the very same ghost who once tried to replace his girlfriend’s physical form with Jazz’s was the one saying he ‘could never replace her.’ 

Bored with his answer, probably from hearing it a million times already, the green-haired ghost just turned away from him with a huff. “And yet, that doesn’t stop you from trying. Why don’t you ask Shadow for support? I’m sure he’ll rock the miniskirt…”

Noticing Johnny getting frustrated beside him, if the way he curled his hands into fists was any indication, Danny immediately sent a panicked look at Ember, silently asking her for help. The popstar, in turn, just made herself comfortable. She stretched before leaning back on her rock, her arms behind her head. She was clearly enjoying the show a little too much to want it to stop. 

Growing frustrated himself, Danny chose to take matters into his own hands. “I think what Johnny means is that, while you’re a great help and things wouldn’t be the same without you,” he sent a meaningful look the biker’s way, daring him to try and contradict him, “he fears hindering you instead.”

That caught her attention. “Really?”

A quick jab on his side from the halfa was enough to get Johnny talking. “Yeah, totally. I...I already got in between your dream once, Kitten. I’d hate to prevent you from fulfilling it ever again.” He admitted, and the somber way he said those words made Danny realise there was much more behind those improv classes than what meets the eye. Even if it was doubtful he’d ever get a clear confirmation as to what exactly that was, he had a pretty good guess. 

“Oh, Johnny!” Tearing up, a hand on her chest, Kitty threw himself at her boyfriend’s arms. “I love you. And I don’t blame you for anything, you know that, right?”

He sent her a small smile. “Just because you don’t blame me doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven myself, Kitten.” 

The red-eyed girl felt like tearing up all over again, but for completely different reasons. Deep down, she knew it’d be a long time before she convinced Johnny he wasn’t responsible for what happened, if ever. But for now, she was happy just touching his forehead with hers, showing him she’d always be there. 

Coming to stand besides Ember, a content smile on his face, Danny just watched the couple. The popstar, on the contrary, didn’t look as pleased. “You just had to help them reconcile, didn’t you? You couldn’t let me have my fun.”

“Isn’t she your best friend?” He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. “Don’t you care enough about her to want her to be happy?”

“I care more about her than you’ll ever know, dipstick.” Her voice was laced with venom, as if warning him to not overstep his boundaries, and...something else Danny couldn’t quite decipher. 

The few times he’d seen the two girls interact, like when they haunted Amity Park just for kicks rather than some evil agenda, Danny would get the distinct feeling that there was some sort of thing going on between them. And, he had to admit, with the way their boyfriends regularly got on their nerves, Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the two decided to be each other’s Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy and eloped. 

But then...there were moments like this. Moments where Kitty would look truly happy in Johnny’s arms, almost as if they never fought. And Johnny? Johnny looked at her like she was the most wonderful thing that's ever happened in his after-life. And she probably was. 

Whatever happened to them, it was obvious it interlinked their obsessions with each other. And given ghosts’ complicated natures, it was unlikely they’d ever leave each other’s side. Which meant whatever feelings Ember harbored, they most likely would never be reciprocated. He wondered if Skulker knew…

After what felt like an eternity to their viewers and a few measly seconds to the couple, Ember chose to continue the conversation where they’d left it, in hopes of finally breaking the ‘cute couple’ apart. “So, how’re your classes going, Kitty?”

She also chose to ignore the dipstick’s disapproving look. 

“Wha…Oh! My classes. Yeah...” She remembered; her question bringing her back from Wonderland. She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her head and her stomach from the little butterflies only Johnny could cause her. “Most of the time it’s cool, but sometimes it’s just…” She made a face, as if that explained everything.

Danny tilted his head to the side. “How come?”

“She says the teacher’s instructions are wild.” Johnny supplied, coming to wrap his arm around her waist.

“The other day, for example,” she started, leaning closer to her boyfriend in a manner that looked almost unconscious, “he told me, ‘try to act like you care, only to don’t care at all,’” she mimicked, lowering her usual pitch to a much deeper voice, “and I was like, ‘okay...?’”

While her two friends exchanged agreements on how weird the directions were, Danny’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so like in high school!”

The three of them just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You know, high school. The epitome of acting like you care when you really don’t care.”

Now, instead of looking at him like he’d grown a second headーsomething he’d actually done when trying to learn to duplicate himself, as a matter of factーthey were simultaneously staring at him and exchanging nervous glances among them. The same way a group of friends would do during an intervention. It was Johnny who broke the ice. “Yeah…” He said slowly. “I don’t think that applies.”

“‘Course it does!” Danny insisted, throwing a hand in the air as if that would validate his point, the other resting on his hip. “Think about it, in high school you’re expected to care about your marks, your extracurricular activities, hanging out with the right group...But deep down you don’t give a fuck about school and all you wanna do is stay at home playing video games, chatting with your friends, eating junk food…”

There was a beat of silence. But whereas the ghost couple wondered just how traumatic his high school experience had been, the popstar looked contemplative, a finger on her chin. “...he has a point.” She said, and now Kitty and Johnny were looking at her like she needed medical help. “Take it from me, the personification of teenage rebellion. My powers would be useless if teens actually cared about their education.”

“Hm, I guess that makes sense?” Kitty conceded. “Alright, so I gotta act like a kid in high school. Got it. Thanks, Danny!” She smiled brightly at him. 

“Don’t mention it.” He waved it off. 

“Speaking of high school…” Ember trailed off, and the almost predatory look on her face was enough to make Danny want to flee right there and then. “Has the great Ghost King found himself a queen yet? I know you said earlier that you’re single but, c’mon. That can’t be right. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure your last girlfriend’s that Red Huntress chick you used to date in sophomore year.”

“Dude, you haven’t had a girlfriend since high school?!” Johnny looked both personally affronted and astonished at the revelation. “Are you gay?” 

Luckily for him, Danny wouldn’t have to blast him with an ecto-ray; Kitty already took care of it. “Johnny! Have you learned nothing from Mean Girls? You can’t just ask people if they’re gay!”

“Pretty sure the actual line was ‘you can’t just ask people why they’re white.’” Ember pointed out. 

“Oh, that’s right. Anyway, doesn’t matter. It was uncalled for.” Then she lay her concerned, red eyes on the halfa and he couldn’t help but gulp loudly. He knew that look. He dreaded that look. It was the concerned-older-sister-looking-out-for-her-baby-brother look. Jazz had put a patent on it long ago. “Is something wrong, though? Several years without a girlfriend is a little bit unusualー”

“And worrying.” Johnny added. 

“ーfor a young man. Do you want to talk about it? Or, even  better, how about I organise you a blind date, hm? I’m sure we’ll find you a nice girl in no time!”

Could there be anything worse than ghosts concerning themselves over his love life? “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He said flatly. 

Ember just looked at him like he was crazy. “Um, hello? For better or worse you are our king, dipstick. How do you plan on continuing the bloodline without even a girlfriend?”

“I could just have Vlad make me some clones…” He mumbled to himself. It was meant as a joke, but the mere thought of letting that fruitloop anywhere near his DNA was enough to send chills running down his spine. 

Not hearing the halfa’s poor attempt to joke, Johnny snorted in response to Ember’s answer. Shaking his head as he walked over to Danny, his thumbs hitched at the hem of his pants, the biker draped an arm over the halfa’s shoulders in an almost brotherly fashion. “Cut it out, Ember.” He chided with no real malice, before focusing on Danny. “Don’t listen to her, dude. She’s only asking ‘cause she thinks getting laid will help you blow off some steam, enough so you get off our backs for a while.”

“Johnny!” Kitty scolded him, feeling sorry for Danny.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Actually, he is.” The popstar admitted. “Saw right through me.”

His face flushing green, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This could not be happening. First, they try to butt in on his love life, and now they comment of his sex life?! Somebody put him out of his misery… 

“Again, I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He groaned in dismay. He could only thank his lucky stars Sam wasn’t there to witness such humiliation. Wait a minute...Sam? Where did that come from?

As he battled with his thoughts, he’d have preferred it if his enhanced senses hadn’t caught Ember leaning close to whisper to Kitty in her ear, “Dipstick’s got no action in weeks, I tell you.”

That was it. “Okay!” He exclaimed, a little too loudly, as he clasped his hands together with a forced, cheerful grin on his face. “As lovely as catching up with you guys has beenーit was great, reallyー, I really ought to keep on patrolling. Ugh, the busy life of the ruler of the Ghost Zone. See ya!” He waved them goodbye as he took off in the direction he came from, drifting away from them. 

Before he was out of earshot, though, Ember shouted after him. “While you’re at it try to find yourself a girlfriend!” Then, she mimicked putting something on her ring finger before singing at the top of her lungs. “If you like it, put a ring on it!”

As they cackled at his expense, Danny stopped mid-air. Like he’d ever let her have the last laugh… He cupped a hand around his mouth, calling out to her, “I’m surprised you’re not egomaniac enough to only reference your own songs!”

In an instant, all traces of amusement on the popstar’s face were gone, replaced by irritation. “Fuck you!” She flipped the bird at him, while her two companions now laughed their asses off at her expense. 

Meeting her rude gesture with a mock salute and a cheeky grin, Danny turned around, flying away at top speed. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by a group of dimwits, he was alone with his thoughts. 

More specifically, he was alone with the thought of Sam. 

He really didn’t understand how her memory had popped up out of nowhere, let alone why it’d popped up right when they were discussing his love life, or lack thereof. Not that long ago, the face that would’ve made an entrance would’ve been Valerie’s. Not because he still had feelings for her, although he’d admit getting over her took him a while, but because she’d been the only girl he’d ever had a long-term relationship with. 

Okay, maybe saying ‘long-term’ was exaggerating a bit. They began a tentative relationship that lasted all throughout the astounding amount of three different dates, several shared lunch periods, and two weeks. 

But seeing as any subsequent attempt at dating someone new either ended in one-night stands, if he was lucky, or in half-finished dates after which the girls would tell him not to bother trying to call them, and that wasn’t even the worst outcome possibleーsometimes he’d been forced to stand them up altogether because of a sudden ghost attackー; he could safely affirm his time with Valerie was his longest dating experience. 

And it didn’t even count as dating because she broke things off before they agreed on going steady. Oh, joy…

So, really, even if his feelings for Valerie had long faded, there was still that feeling of familiarity bringing him comfort. 

But that still didn’t explain why he’d think of Sam of all people! Sure, they got along fine and they’d seen each other a few times already (last time at the restaurant they didn’t even need Tucker), but there was no sense of familiarity! They were friendly acquaintances, and no more. 

So Sam was funny, and smart, and probably the sassiest girl he’d ever met. Sure, her wits and snark were enough to put some of his most punny opponents to shame, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t run out of puns to make during a fightーsomething even he struggled withー, not like she was the kind to make puns, anyway. And that fire that would light up in her eyes whenever she spoke about doing what’s right, and animal rightsーbecause, really, could anyone react more adorably to a Purple Back Gorilla?ー, and the occult... Or the way she stood her ground because she knew who she was and she was so confident in the person she’d grown up to be!

...So what if he needed someone like that in his life back in high school? He couldn’t change the past!

Sam was probably one of the most amazing people he’d ever met, but that didn’t mean anything. Guys could admire girls without having feelings for them or wanting to get inside their pants, now, couldn’t they? If Sam were there, in fact, she’d point out they actually should be able to admire girls with no ulterior motive. 

Danny did a double-take, changing course when he was a minute shy of crashing against someone’s door. Sighing in relief as he wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, he felt like smacking himself. Again with Sam! There was nothing going on between him and Sam!

Just because he thought she was cool it didn’t mean he was crushing on her or looking for ways to get into her bed. Speaking of...he also had the distinctive feeling she would pummel him to the ground if he so much as thought about it. He liked the feeling of breathing without wincing because one of his ribs was piercing his lung, thank you very much. 

Besides, no matter how awesome Sam was, she just wasn’t his type. A guilty part of Danny had to admit, aside from his amazon chasing tendencies (thanks again, Dad), he had a soft spot for preppy girls. His first ever crush was Paulina Sanchez, Casper High’s queen bee and cheerleading captain from freshman to senior year. Even Valerie, despite losing her wealth over the Cujo accident, stayed true to her style from back when she was still popular, just...without the brand clothes. 

Sam was not preppy. 

He guessed that was a factor in how shocking it’d been to find out she, as a matter of fact, came from a rich family. With all the dough Jazz had later told him her family had, Sam could afford to use new shoes every single day and then throw them all into the trash when she came back home. 

But she didn’t. 

Instead, she preferred to buy her clothes from second-hand stores and add her personal touch later on, knowing the money would go to different humane organisations, or to buy them from independent stores. 

“Those are a bit expensive.” she explained the last time he and Tucker met up with her at the You Mocha Me Crazy. “But the clothes are high quality and tailor-made, so it’s worth it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. That was Sam; always grounded and level-headed, with the greater good in mind. 

On second thought, it was unfair of him to judge Sam just because she wasn’t preppy. Sure, she wasn’t his type, but she was still beautiful. How could she not be? With her sleek, black hair that looked so smooth it could put velvet to shame. Or those hazel eyes of hers that were a crystal clear reflection of her soul, full of emotion and mystery. Or her soft, plumb lips, always accentuated by her unusual purple lipstick, drawing your attention to them, almost begging you to kiss them…

The image sent him reeling, almost shooting through the eerie, ectoplasmic abyss of the Ghost Zone before he forced himself to come to a sudden halt. He could hear his heart frantically pounding in his ears.

WHOAH!

Where did that come from?!

Danny took a moment to steady his breath, using his hands to scrub his face. What was he thinking? Just like he had to tell Jazz over a hundred times in the drive back home from the restaurant, Sam was just a girl he knew. A pretty awesome girl, but just a girl. 

Even if she were more than that, which she wasn’t, his life was too hectic to involve anyone else. Especially not someone who could be used as leverage against him. There would never be anything more between them. The sooner everyone accepted his life was too complicated to have a normal relationship, the better. 

As Danny finally flew back to his lair, he did his best to ignore the way his heart was still fluttering in his chest.

............

They were back to square one.

Just like the last time, Danny had guided Lady Arcana and her entourage deep inside his lair until they reached the Council Room doors. Her Majesty’s two witches kept guard at both sides of the door alongside two of his own guards, while the two royals went inside to discuss. They were still far away but in front of each other, the same old large wooden table separating them. And Lady Arcana looked like she wanted to dissect him with her own hands while he was finding the sweet release of permanent death all the more appealing. 

 Why was it that progress never lasted with this woman?

Sitting down as regally as possible on her chair, Lady Arcana once again materialised a book seemingly out of nowhere. Only, this time, Danny noticed it was even more beautifully crafted than the last one. “I managed to bring this grimoire with me.” That must’ve been the first time she initiated a conversation. “Hopefully, it’ll have the answers we’re looking for.” Without warning, her violet eyes narrowed to slits, looking at him with as much venom as she could muster. “This is your only warning, if anything happens to this book while it’s in your territory, prepare to face the consequences.”

He’d heard of treating books with respect (mostly from Jazz), but this was ridiculous! “Wow, it must be a really important book. What is it, signed by the author?”

Sam fumed at his pathetic excuse of a joke. Great, like she didn’t hear enough terrible one-liners from hanging out with Tucker. Difference being, she actually liked hanging out with Tucker. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

That took him aback. “Wait, it’s got its author’s autograph? Really?”

She stopped leafing through the grimoire’s pages for a moment to meet his incredulous look. “Of course not! I mean it’s really important!” Bringing the book close to her face, she sneered. “What, is the crown so heavy it turns your brain to mush?”

“Oh, it’s heavier than you could possibly imagine…” Danny muttered through gritted teeth, mostly to himself. As if the Witch Queen didn’t know that already. The dark energy radiating from both the crown and the ring was pure torture, and enduring it a job made for Hercules himself. He was about to retort with a comeback of his own, when his eyes focused on the book’s cover, more specifically, on the golden letters making up its title:

Lady Arcana’s Grimoire

A spike of suspicion bubbling within him, the halfa wasted no time in pointing out his discovery, daring her to contradict him. “If you’re so smart to have a spellbook under your name, then how come you claim you don’t know how to solve the portal problem?” 

If she thought she could just trick him like that, she got another thing coming. So what if she was the leader of a group of conniving spellcasters? He’d been fighting toe to toe with Vlad, the biggest, most manipulative bastard he’d ever met, since he was fourteen. Exposing her evil plans would be child’s play. 

Slowly putting the book down, Sam looked at Phantom with what she was sure was the most dumbfounded expression she’d ever had. What was he talking about? “Excuse me?”

The green-eyed ghost edged around the table, getting close to her at a tauntingly slow pace. Maddening slow. When he was finally by her side, he got so close she couldn’t help but flinch back. “Oh, you know. Just wondering if perhaps you’re not taking me for a fool and pretending to help just so you and your witches can buy your time and attack us.” He got in her face, his neon green gaze so intense it almost burned. “Hm, Lady Arcana?”

For a minute, Sam just stood there, without moving an inch from her seat. Not understanding his sudden animosity. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t tension in the air whenever the two met up, but most of the time Phantom acted cheeky around her, taunting her with his cocky attitude, as if gauging her reaction and trying to figure out when he’d get a reaction out of her. At most, he’d seem annoyed or resigned when working with her. 

But this?

This cold treatment that translated itself into a literal drop in temperature in the room around her? His cool, accusing voice that made shivers run down her spine and the fire of aggravation light up in her heart? The way he looked at her like she was naked in front of him, and not in a lustful way, but in a way that made her feel like he could see right through her?

This was new, and she couldn’t say she liked it. 

A dark scowl making its way to her face, the young sorceress spat. “What are you getting at?”

Danny was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, his smile more dangerous than the countless beasts lurking on the Ghost Zone’s most remote corners. “I’d suggest you undo whatever it is that your kind did to the portals, because let me tell you, I will not go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” He growled in a menacingly low tone. 

Sam could only gasp in astonishment. But the feeling didn’t last long, soon being replaced with outrage. How dare he? Who did he think he was to accuse her and her people of putting their own lives in danger?! And all for what? To get back at a group of bodiless puppets? He had a lot of nerve.

“Listen up here, you jackー!”

“Uh, uh, uh!” Phantom cut her off with a sing-song voice, a scolding finger raised up and wagging right in front of her face. “A queen shouldn’t cuss like that, your Majesty. It’s not beckoning.”

The purple-eyed witch clutched the table with her hands so tightly, she could hear it splinting under her digits. But she didn’t care. He was taunting her, waiting for her to make the first move so he wouldn’t be accused of attempting against the life of the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. After all, the punishment was different if an attack was in self-defence, wasn’t it?

She was about to make a mistake when his cocky voice distracted her. “I’m waiting, Lady Arcana.”

Again with the sarcastic tone. Why did her name have to do with any of this?! First he said whatever nonsense of having her own book, which was absolutely ridiculous because she was an avid reader, not a writer. Then he got impossibly close and had the nerve to mock her title, right before accusing her of causing the rifts, and now…

Now it hit her. 

To Danny’s immense surprise, instead of retaliating, Lady Arcana limited herself to picking her precious book back up, her irate expression morphing itself into bored disbelief. “When you said I have my own book, did you mean this?”

“Considering it’s the only one with your name on it, then yes. That’s the one.” He deadpanned. What was she up to?

His eyebrows shot up to the ceiling when she sighed, looking beyond done with the entire situation. “If you must know, I’m not the Lady Arcana who wrote this book. She died centuries before I was even born. This grimoire,” she did the unthinkable and handed it to him, “is sort of her research journal. Everything she learned about magic during her time, it’s there. And since our respective species didn’t part ways until long after her death, it should have the answer to the portals as well.”

Listening to her explanation, he glanced down at the book in his hands. Gingerly skimming the pages, for he knew the witch would do well in her previous promise, Danny eyed its contents. Aside from the numerous runes he couldn’t understand and the mysterious drawings he didn’t know how to interpret, it was obvious that in spite of the book’s pristine condition, it had seen better days. The pages were yellowish and rough to the touch, their edges worn-out. And even if one could still make out the symbols, the ink was very washed-out. 

In short, there was no way this book belonged to the woman in front of him. 

Averting his eyes, he handed it back to get before floating over his own seat and flopping down on it. Ashamed by his actions, though not entirely convinced of the witches' innocence, he slumped down in his chair, refusing to meet her scrutinising, violet eyes.

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not having it. “Will you now stop talking about things you know nothing about?”

“I would if you at least let me know something!” He sulked, and Sam couldn’t believe to save her life that a ghost could actually act so childishly.

“Do you have the slightest idea of how frustrating it is to be at a disadvantage?” he went on. “You know what ghosts are capable of, you see them all the time on the news!” Okay, that was a wild guess, but it helped his case. “But I know next to nothing about you, and you refuse to even the ground. So excuse me for thinking you might be responsible for our current crisis because I see your name on a book that’s supposed to put an end to said crisis!”

When a few minutes went by and Lady Arcana still said nothing, he got worried. Either he’d crossed a line and ruined any chance of working together with her in the future, or he’d crossed a line and she was silently cursing him. A morbid part of him wondered if being turned into a frog would be easier than being half-ghost. Both predicaments had something in common; he could end up at someone’s dissection table. 

Then, the most unexpected thing happened. “You’re right.”

Danny was so astounded he shot forward from his chair, eyes wide. “Come again?”

The halfa resented the way she rolled her eyes at him. It was a legitimate question! “I said, ‘you’re right.’” She said, leaning forward and trying to meet his eye. She was finding it increasingly more difficult, and Sam had to wonder if it was due to his previous outburst or her own shame. “We’re both sticking our necks here, working with each other. My people might be secretive, but the least I could do is even the ground, as you say.”

Even if, ideally, Phantom was the last person Sam wanted to be honest with, having to lie to so many people in her life was taking its toll on her. And she figured, as much as she hated it, he had a point. It was hard trusting someone when they always kept you in the dark. Her own experiences with Wilhelmina proved that. 

But she had to make some things clear, first. “Before I tell you anything, however,” a small, amused smile appeared on her face when she saw him deflate, “I gotta lay out a few ground rules.”

Phantom sighed. “Fine. State your terms.”

“You can ask me whatever you want, and I will tell you as much as I can, but there are things I simply cannot divulge. You must respect that. Got it?” 

Knowing that deal could easily become a double-edged sword, against his better judgement, Danny nodded. “Got it.”

“Very well.” She leaned back on her chair, her back straight and fingers firmly clasped together on top of the table. “What do you want to know?”

The halfa didn’t even have to think of his question; it’d been plaguing his mind since he first met her. “How does your magic work?”

Well, that much she could answer. The young queen couldn’t help but see the irony in the way she was about to willingly disclose the very same information she’d viciously guarded from Danny to the Ghost King. “What you call ‘magic’ is the art of learning to control and manipulate one’s anima at will.”

“Anima?” Phantom tilted his head to the side. Sam couldn’t help but think he looked like a ghost puppy. 

She nodded as she raised one hand to her eye-level, palm up. With a snap of her fingers, the same sparkly, purple mist he remembered from the floating book accident surrounded her hand. He could only look on, stunned. “Our essence.” Lady Arcana explained, mindlessly playing with the mystical energy, watching as it slipped through her fingers like water. “Believe it or not, everyone has an anima, not just witches. The only difference is that we know how to tap into and summon it.”

“So is it like my ecto-energy?”

“In a way. There is a difference, though.”

“Which is?” He urged her, but she just shook her head. 

Danny was beginning to think that was one of the things she’d refuse to share with him when she clarified. “As with the portals, that knowledge was forgotten long ago. We don’t know what makes our essences different; we just know they are.”

“And what about the spells?” Ever since Sam cryptically told him about them, Danny’d been racking his mind for answers, trying to put two and two together. But he always came out empty-handed. He just hoped Lady Arcana had the answers. 

She sighed, and once again the halfa feared he wouldn’t get his answer after all, but once more she surprised him. “They’re intrinsically linked to our culture.” He couldn’t help but flinch when she sent him a meaningful look. “They’re also the reason why I call myself Lady Arcana...when that’s not my name.” She admitted quietly. 

Understanding the best he could do was give her time, Danny leaned forward, resting his chin on his intertwined hands that were propped on the table in front of him. He waited with bated breath for her to speak. “To do magic, you have to know the secrets of the universe.”

“The secrets of the universe?” He repeated, eyes wide. 

She nodded, pointing at her hand, the one radiating energy. “There is a secret language; the one the universe was created and communicates with. To do magic you need two things: to be in sync with your anima, and to know that secret language so you can get the results you want. Every spell we make we cast it by calling the secret name of whatever we set our minds to. Because of this system, in our culture names give you power. That’s why I go by Lady Arcana, because if anyone were to know my real name, it’d give them power over me.”

Danny had to force his mouth shut at her words. So witches were in tune with the universe on a whole different level than most people. A part of him couldn’t help but point out the similarities between the two, for if people were to find out his secret, he’d be completely at their mercy. Vlad had certainly used his secret against him in the past, the only way it didn’t do more damage than necessary was because he also knew his and could counter attack. 

A part of him wished he could ask her the true questions plaguing his mind. Mostly, why? Why did her people sell ghosts out like that? Why did they choose ruining a centuries-long alliance was worth it? Why did they refuse to acknowledge the damage they’d done?!

Just why?

But the sharper part of him, the one who usually took charge of things when coming up with puns or ghost-fighting, knew that question would most likely go unanswered. And at worst it’d bring back the tension their, surprisingly, civil conversation had dissipated. So instead he chose to be the polite young man his parents raised. 

“Thank you for coming clean to me, my lady. I…I understand it must’ve been difficult.” He tried to channel his best intentions through his grateful grin. 

For a minute Sam just stared at the ghost in front of her, speechless. She had to admit, Phantom had proved he could be mature, albeit usually after enough jabs and pointless arguing, so it shouldn’t have come out as such a surprise that now he seemed genuinely grateful for her honesty. And yet, the sincerity in his glowing, green eyes, and the kindness radiating from his smile were enough to make her heart flutter, touched. The way he looked at her made him seem almost completely harmless, friendly, and caring.

It made him seem like Danny. 

The past few days, after unexpectedly running into him in Verde Que te Quiero Verde, her mind always went back to him. A nice, warm feeling would bubble deep within her whenever she thought of his unruly, black hair, or his deep, baby blue eyes, or just his general kindness and alertness to the way other people feel… Sam would feel her face heat up whenever she remembered she still had his hoodie; or when she’d admit to herself that she didn’t know if she could ever give it back. 

As nice as the feeling was, it certainly didn’t help when it clouded her judgement when she was carrying out her duties. Such as that very moment. 

What was she thinking, comparing Danny Phantom to Danny Fenton?! They couldn’t be more different! Danny’s voice was rich and soothing, while Phantom’s had a certain echo that reminded everyone of his current state of being. Danny had absolutely no interest in following in his parents’ footsteps; he dreamed of being an astronaut and the Fentons had often neglected him and his sister in favour of ghost-hunting. Phantom was both a ghost hunter himself and the very ghost Danny’s parents were after!

And most importantly, Sam could actually put up with Danny’s presence, whereas she’d more than once wondered if spirits could be strangled. 

While she appreciated the Ghost King’s bout of friendliness, she’d have to remind herself that he and Danny were two entirely different people. But for now, it wouldn’t hurt to show some gratitude in return. “Thank you for listening and respecting my request, Phantom.” She smiled back. 

The king shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “It’s the least I could do. Hey, if you have any questions of your own, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam was about to thank him for his offer but decline anyway when she changed her mind, an idea materialising in her head. Using her two hands for support to get up from her chair, she walked around the wooden table between them and towards her host. She didn’t stop until she was almost within touching distance. 

Propping herself up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, in the most relaxed position Danny had seen her, she spoke. “If I ask a favour of you, will you grant it?”

“Depending on what you ask.” He replied truthfully.

She guessed that was fair enough. Unfolding her arms, she used one hand to point at him. “Please, refrain yourself from wearing...” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing to the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, “that during our meetings.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. The only reason he wore the dreaded things in the first place was to keep her and her guards in line. If it meant not being vulnerable around them, he was willing to endure their torment. “You see, I wear these to show my very special guests just how seriously I take their visit,” Danny started, his voice dripping in sarcasm, before turning more serious with a menacing glare, his eyes glowing bright. “How do I know you won’t double-cross me the moment I take them off?”

Sam didn’t like the way this conversation suddenly turned from civil, to accusing. Again. “How do I know you won’t use them to double-cross me?”

“I believe I asked you first.” 

Growing irritated, Sam clutched at her skin. “Simple; I’m not the one wearing that.”

There was a reason purple-eyed witches such as herself or Grandma Ida were so respected in their society; only they could resist the darkness their people so feared. And the dark forces radiating from the Ghost King’s crown and ring? They were vile. The age of eternal blackness, pain, and suffering they promised were enough to make her hairs stand on end. Therefore, seeing Phantom wield them so nonchalantly was a clear indicator that he was not to be trifled with. 

Not uttering a word, Phantom got up from his chair and made his way to her. Sam had to fight the urge to flinch away from him in fright when he stood, imposing, in front of her. “Funny.” He said with a hint of sick amusement in his voice. “It was a gift from your kind.”

Sam could only gasp at his words, a hand to her chest and her feet unconsciously taking a few steps back. However, before she could fully register his words and react accordingly, the ground at her feet started moving, unprompted. Her body involuntarily swaying from the sudden tremors, she tried to keep her balance by hopelessly flailing her arms, in search of support. 

But her efforts proved themselves fruitless when another, stronger, jolt tossed her down to the ground with a low thud. The only reason she even registered she’d fallen was the sudden change in perspective; Phantom, who, seemingly on instinct, had risen up in the air the moment the room shook, went from being in front of her to horizontal. 

“What’s going on?” She choked out, too disoriented to even stand. 

Noticing the turmoil in her voice, their previous conversation forgotten in favour of the current events, Danny was by her side in an instant, gently helping her up. This could only mean one thing. “Uh, no…”

“‘Uh, no?’” Lady Arcana asked, holding onto his arm for dear life. “‘Uh, no’ what?”

Before Danny could so much as offer an answer a distinct cry in a language he didn’t understand could be heard from the other side of the door. In the blink of an eye, a gust of bright yellow wind came crashing through the door, reducing it to smithereens. What was truly unbelievable, however, was the way the wind seemed to have solidified with the intention of bursting the doors open. 

Fast as lightning, Lady Arcana’s trusty companions rushed into the room, looking for their queen. The teenagerーSusan, Danny believedーwasted no time checking over her leader. “Your Majesty, are you okay?!” As she asked, her bespectacled partner slid beside their queen, offering her to lean into her for support. “We were guarding the doors when suddenly the lair started trembling!”

“I’m fine, Susan. Stand down.” She reassured her. “Are you guys alright?”

“Affirmative, your Majesty.” The strawberry blonde one answered, adjusting her glasses with her free hand, the other still holding Lady Arcana by her waist. “But I believe we should leave immediately, whatever it is that’s going on, it’s not safe!”

“What is going on, anyway?” Susan hissed, clearly suspecting of the ghosts’ ulterior motives. 

To Sam’s surprise, Phantom actually looked sheepish. He was fidgeting with his gloved fingers with an awkward smile on his face. “This may or may not be my fault…”

The dark-haired queen was in no mood for half-assed answers like that. “Explain.” She gritted out. 

“I seem to have forgotten to take care of the latest black hole forming before it reached its mature state.” He admitted. 

There was  a moment of silence where one could've heard a pin drop, until Sam screeched at the top of her lungs, “You what?! How do you forget to take care of a fucking black hole!?”

“What did I tell you about swearing?” He tried to joke, but the scorching glare he received from her in return made him gulp. “I know, I know. I really meant to take care of everything sooner, but things kept popping up and getting in the way. But don’t worry, I’ll fix this.”

“How?” Susan asked, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes glaring daggers at him. 

“That...I don’t know.” He admitted, looking positively sick to his stomach. “I’ve never had to take care of a black hole in this state. But don’t worry, you three can go back home. I’ll manage; I always do.”

An impending sense of doom made Sam’s stomach churn. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling Phantom wouldn’t make it if he tried to take care of the problem by himself.

And so, with a heavy heart, she turned to her witches, getting out of Stephanie’s well-meaning but suffocating grasp. “You two go back home, I’ll stay here and help him.”

“What?!” The two screamed in unison, and Sam could feel a bewildered Phantom looking at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind. She probably had. 

Lo and behold, he was right there, agreeing with them. “‘What’ is right. You can’t stay here; your people need you!”

“King Phantom’s right, your Majesty.” Stephanie tried to reason. “What will become of the clan without you?”

“It’ll be madness!” Susan squeaked, looking scared for once in her life. “If anything, we should stay to ensure your safety!”

Touched beyond belief by their loyalty and devotion, Sam gently grasped their hands in hers. She tried to convey as much calmness as possible through her smile. “One way or another, the clan will find a way to revive from its ashes, even without me. That’s the way it’s always been. But I can’t live with myself knowing I stole two children from their families, and so, I must let you go.”

“B-but...your Majesty!” Susan whimpered, tears in her eyes. 

Before she’d have a change of heart, the queen turned to the older witch. “Stephanie, you’re the better spellcaster. Take Susan with you and back to the clan.” Then she turned around and picked the grimoire up in her hands before passing it to her. “And take this with you. We can’t afford anything happening to it.”

“But what about you?!”

“I will do everything in my power to return to you.” She swore solemnly. 

With a sad nod, Stephanie let go of her queen’s hand and took the younger sorceress with her. With a finger high in the sky, she cried out, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt!” 

In a flash of forest green light, they were gone. 

Now that they were alone (for Walker’s goons had returned to their boss the moment the shaking began), Danny turned to the Witch Queen. “What’s your angle?”

“I want to help you.” She said, never taking her eyes off of his. 

“But what about your people?” He pressed. “Isn’t protecting them your top priority?”

“If what little I know of black holes and your world doesn’t fail me, letting one loose would mean the end of everything we know and love. So I am protecting my people.”

He couldn’t argue against that logic. 

The moment was broken by the unanticipated feeling of being pulled towards an unknown direction. Noticing Lady Arcana staggering clumsily on her feet, Danny rushed to grab her by the shoulders in an attempt to steady her. Immediately, her own hands were grabbing firmly onto his.

As stable as his lair was, staying inside during a black hole would be dangerous and extremely foolish. Unfortunately, there was no time to explain. “My Lady, what I’m about to do might seem a bit crazy, but I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

“What are youー?”

“Can you trust me?” He insisted, his bright, green eyes begging. 

Under any other circumstances her answer would’ve been a definite ‘no.’ Phantom was a ghost and she was a witch. Her people had been foolish enough to trust them once and it cost them dearly. But at that moment, right then and there, against her better judgement, she did. When he looked at her like his life depended on her, she couldn’t deny him anything. Somehow, that terrified her more than the black hole.

“I do.” She breathed. “I trust you.”

One moment, he smiled at her so brightly Sam feared he might blind her. And on the other, he pushed her away from him, shoving her roughly to the stone wall. Fearing the worst, Sam braced herself for an impact that never came. Instead all she could feel was a tingling sensation coursing through her body before she landed on the dirt with a loud thud, but not hard enough to really hurt her. 

When she opened her eyes, she was stunned to see she was outside of the lair’s confines, completely unscathed. How did she…? Her thoughts were put to a halt when she caught something from the corner of her eye that made her blood run cold, as well as her mouth drop in astonishment. 

In front of her, in the middle of the infinite ectoplasmic ocean of the Ghost Zone, stood a ginormous swirl of never-ending blackness, engulfing everything within range. As she stood there, agape, the celestial body’s natural pull began to draw her in. Burying her heels in the ground, desperately clutching at the building’s walls for support, she suddenly felt a hand around her wrist, yanking at her in the opposite direction. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw Phantom’s staring right back. “Don’t let go!” He instructed with a strained voice. He was using every bit of strength he had to fly them both in the opposite direction. 

“How do we stop this?!” She cried out, holding onto him for dear life. 

“I’m not sure!” He called back, his own hold on her never loosening. “As I said, I’ve never had to take care of a black hole under these conditions! The universe wouldn’t happen to have a code word for stopping this sort of thing, would it?”

She could only shake her head. “If it does, I don’t know what it is!”  Oh, that was just great. The one time she needed her magic the most, and not only didn’t she have the answers, but she didn’t even know enough on the subject to find a mundane solution to it. If only Danny were there, he’d know what to do. “Ugh, why didn’t I pay more attention when we talked about Astrophysics!?”

At her words, a lightbulb lit up in Danny’s head. Astrophysics, duh! How could he have been so dense to forget his own area of expertise! All he needed to do was find a way to apply what he knew into a situation with a considerably smaller amount of money involved. To be more specific, he had about $3,75 in his pocket. As he struggled to keep both Lady Arcana and him safe, he kept looking at the black hole, studying its form and comparing it to every single piece of information he knew on them. 

It wasn’t until he focused on his movements that it hit him. “I have an idea, but it might sound a little crazy.”

“Would you look at that? It goes with the entire situation we found ourselves in!” The sorceress chided with fake cheer. 

“You can roast me with your sarcasm as much as you want later, but now I need you to listen to me.” He took her silence as a sign to continue. “I know what I have to do; I have to fly straight towards the black hole, but since I know it’s risky, I need you to run as far away as possible. Maybe even teleport yourself like your friends.”

“Are you crazy?!”

He shrugged it off. “A little. Please, it’s our only chance.”

Every second Lady Arcana didn’t answer his heart did somersaults in his chest. If it weren’t for his hands being a bit tied up at the moment, he would’ve started biting on his nails anxiously. After what felt like hours, she nodded. “Okay, but on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“Put us down somewhere remotely safe and I’ll tell you.”

In a quick succession of movements, he went from holding her wrist to holding her bridal style, his mind too preoccupied in finding somewhere safe to notice the way her cheeks reddened at the sudden intimacy. When he put her down on the floor he could only gape as she rolled her skirt and tied it up so it now reached her knees rather than the floor. But what truly caught his eye was what she was wearing on her feet.

“You wear combat boots under your skirt?”

At that, she put on a blank face. Now it was not the time for stupid questions! “Have you ever run in high heels?”

Admittedly, he had not.

“Thought so.” She hummed. “Besides, if you want me to run away from here, this gives me a greater chance at getting away. More mobility and all that.”

“Fine, I get it. So, what’s your condition?”

She looked at him. Her initial plan was to ask him to remove the crown and ring during any subsequent meetings, but now that he was staring intently at her, waiting for her answer with bated breath right as he was about to do the unthinkable, she found she couldn’t ask such a thing. Swallowing loudly, she got close to him; closer than she’d ever been. As soon as they were close enough their bodies almost touched, so close she could make out the green blush adorning his features, she placed her hands on his chest and slid them up slowly. 

Unbeknownst to her, to Danny it was maddeningly so. He could already hear his heart beating in his ears, her lavender eyes seemed to gaze deep into his soul, when he heard the distinct sound of something unclasping. Before he knew it, his cape had fallen to the ground. When he turned to look at her quizzically, she had an impish grin on her face. “In the words of the great Edna Mode, ‘no capes!’”

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics, even if said antics made perfect sense when he was about to fly into a black hole. “Okay, okay. I get it. No capes.” He grew serious again, sending her a meaningful look. “But you’d better run away, you hear me?”

“I will.” 

With that they both turned their backs on each other, about to run off in different directions when Sam had the sudden urge to call out to him over her shoulder. “Oh, and Phantom?” He raised a questioning brow. “Please, be careful.”

Her request rendering him speechless, Danny limited himself to nodding before he took off in the direction of the massive swirl of energy.

Ghostly black holes were formed when two ancient lairs came into contact with each other, resulting in enormous amounts of uncontrollable ecto-energy. The usual protocol was to evacuate the areas near the decaying lairs and destroy at least one of them before disaster happened. 

That was what he meant to do the other day before his encounter with Valerie forced him to spend the remainder of the day resting before going out with Jazz. By the time he felt better, he’d already forgotten all about it. Which meant he now needed to take desperate measures. 

A black hole’s traction power didn’t come from its Singularity, but from its Event Horizon. In other words, it came from the swirling mass of matter surrounding it. Considering this was a rotating black hole, the Penrose Process was his safest bet. He turned himself intangible, in hopes of not being pulled into due to his lack of body mass, and flew straight to the celestial body’s Ergosphere; a region of rotating space-time around the hole. 

Once inside, Danny didn’t waste a second to rev up until he’d reached his top speed, which he could only hope was enough, as he began moving counterclockwiseーthe opposite direction the black hole was rotating in. 

After what felt like hours, Danny could feel his face light up in triumph when he registered the way the hole seemed to come to a halt. That was all he needed. With renewed vigour, the halfa pushed himself a little further, breaking his personal record, and forced the massive source of matter to follow his course. Only this time, rather than increase in size, it shrank ever so slowly. 

Unfortunately, Danny was so caught up in the process he failed to see the side effect his plan was having on the black hole. With one last display of strength, it began to pull once more, except now the halfa had no place to go. Panicking, but knowing he couldn’t get away or all his efforts would be for naught, Danny resigned himself to his fate. 

“Conjunctionis ligaveris!”

“Huh?” His brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden cry, his eyes soon widened in disbelief when he felt something wrap around his ankles and tug at him and away from the black hole. 

Glancing down at his feet, he noticed the sparkly, purple, rope-like construction tied tightly around him. Trailing the rope to its origins, he gasped when he saw it was Lady Arcana who was holding onto it for dear life. 

Did she just save him?

Finally, due to Danny’s ministrations, the colossal swirling void of darkness began to curl in on itself. Then, with a deafening sound, the black hole imploded in a burst of blinding light, forcing Danny to cover his tortured ears, and Sam to shield her violet eyes. Both of them holding tight with the remnants of strength they had left onto the witch’s improvised rope.

After what felt like hours, her ears still ringing, the queen lowered her arm from her face. She blinked repeatedly, willing the dark spots filling her vision to vanish. With her vision cleared, she gasped, frantically looking around in search of Phantom. 

A voice behind her made her jump forward a few steps. “How did you do that?”

Whirling around, she couldn’t help but let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when she saw the Ghost King looking at her. Although he looked far more surprised than she expected. “Do what?”

“You…”, he started. It just didn’t make any sense! “You grabbed me!”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “...yeah, so?”

“You grabbed me and I was intangible!” He threw his arms up in the air, his mind still coming to terms with what'd just happened. 

Realisation finally dawned on Sam. “Oh, you’re right. By definition, I shouldn’t have been able to touch you…” She trailed off.

“Well,” he pressed, “how did you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She shrugged as she noticed the rope still tied to Phantom’s ankle, before willing it to disappear. “I just saw you in trouble and I knew I had to do something. I wasn’t really thinking when I did it, I just...did.”

She saw him mumble something unintelligible before his bright eyes lay on her, hard. She should’ve known this was coming, “Look, I know I said I’d run away. But, as I said, I saw you in trouble and I had to act! So there’s no need for you to lecture me about it. What’s done is done.”

“Actually,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile on his face. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t listen to me.”

Starting at his words, the two made eye contact. As she gazed, once again, upon his grateful eyes, his expression full of sincerity, she couldn’t keep her own smile from forming in her face. As they stood there, both royals could only think that, if they could work together to stop an infinite swirl of darkness, even trusting the other with their lives, then they should be able to work together to put an end to the crisis threatening their worlds. 

[kikifeliz]

THE WEEK AHEAD: May 3 - May 9, 2021

By Kiki Feliz

♑️♉️♍️ Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo

More action this week than last, which is good! Last week was about planning — and in some ways, planning poorly or neglectfully. I saw last week that some of you are struggling with your identities, figuring out who you really want to be in this world & how you want to present yourselves to others.

This week, I see some of your ideas about who you are starting to take shape on the physical plane; I also see that you are putting your heart into it more! Not necessarily emotionally, as in self-love, but like courageously. Think about how they say athletes etc. have “heart,” meaning they are dedicated for the love of the accomplishment/the love of the game. The self-love aspect will come, but for those of you who know about the Tarot, this reading is dominated by Wands (spirited, organized action & courage) rather than Cups (emotions).

I see you’ve been fighting your intuition, likely about spiritual work that needs to be done. There’s a lot of resistance and defensiveness here. It looks like some of you are trying to protect yourself from something. For some, it’s from a player-type romantic figure; others of you may be trying to protect yourself from addictive behaviors and substance abuse.

You seem to be fighting a problem that you are wholly responsible for; something you’ve conjured up in your own head. Ultimately you have complete power and control over this situation, even if it doesn’t seem like it. Even if the opposition (the addiction or the romantic interest) does have some standing here, that doesn’t really mean anything — it’s standing that YOU have given them. Tear it down whenever you’re ready! If this means going to rehab for addiction recovery, do that. If this means cutting this person down from the pedestal you’ve built them, DO THAT! The pedestal might not even be that high (meaning you may not actually consider this person to be that dope) but still, cut that shit down. STOP FUCKING SPYING ON THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA!! It’s not helpful lmao 😂

Take a rest from engaging with whatever this is, and go find some respect. Whether this is respect from your community of likeminded people or self-respect, you need to figure out for yourself. Either way, focus on other people and other, healthier social activities. Maybe get off of social media for a few days altogether. Go hang out with people you haven’t seen in a while. Go for a hike and spend some time outside! But most of all, you need to give this old pattern a rest and cleanse your system of the person/substance so you can move forward.

Once you do this, I see things moving very harmoniously for you! Drop the ball on recovery, however, and you’ll be right back in the cycle of juggling dumb shit and self-sabotaging, taking away valuable resources from your own brain and/or wallet that you could be using for something else more valuable in the long run.

I don’t need to tell you that this addiction/person is bullshit, you already know. This situation may have brought out a side of you that you don’t like; maybe you have even resorted to negative manipulations in order to try to get what you wanted from this situation, or to score (relevant in both the sexual & drug-related sense of the word).

If it’s a person, maybe you thought that you were meant to be together ~/*if only you could outlast the competition*/~. This is simply just NOT TRUE. This is NOT an episode of The Bachelor!

If it’s a drug/alcohol issue, you may have stolen from your parents to fund the habit or done other things as an act of rebellion against tradition. Either way, I see you struggling mentally to win this fight, but not for long. There may even be some enablers in your life that you will have to eliminate.

You are strong enough to win and you do have a community of people cheering you on! Take that hype then use that as fuel to help you remember why it’s important for you to win this battle. Or, alternatively, rather than “hype” it could be negative reactions to the situation told to you by friends and family... maybe they didn’t like how someone was treating you, or how you were treating the community or yourself as a result of your contact with this person/substance. Either way, your community is far more important than this person or this substance. Remember that! There is absolutely hope on the horizon for success in leaving this situation behind.

Something fated is going to happen for y’all very soon! This may have to do with an adventure you’ve been waiting to take the next step on, a trip you’re already on to a new destination for those of you who are planning on traveling, or a goal you’re already pursuing. It may be the rebirth of a long-awaited dream, one that you’ve been stuck reflecting on for a while. You may have thought this dream was dead, but the universe was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.

You’ve had a lot of struggles, but I see you coming into a period of light, independence, joy and work. Some of you may be recovering from really horrible incidents, like depression, sexual assaults, thefts, break-ins, and anxiety, but I want you to know that recovery is imminent and I see you consciously taking a hold of your recovery through acts of joy and through your work!

Whether this defeated feeling you may have stems from addiction or a negative incident that had a bad effect on your psyche, I want you to know that recovery is a PRACTICE and it takes time. And that’s okay! Just keep the lines of communication open with yourself and others; most importantly be HONEST with yourself and you will absolutely be capable of taking back control over your life. Big CEO energy here — get ready to make some executive decisions soon!

Keep in mind that nothing happens overnight and that you will need to work hard on all of your goals in order to accomplish them. Temptation (that trap, that pit) is always going to be there, but you have to take the reins and drive around it, or go consciously in the other direction. This will be hard and it will take longer than you expect; you will also have to confront your shadow side in order to succeed long-term, which will be scary. But approach yourself with love and positivity. In the meantime, do what you can to make yourself feel attractive. This is the start of a whole new you! That person is worth patiently and consciously doing the work for, right?

In love, if you’re dating, it looks like some of you may be caught up with some lies, infidelity, or self-sabotaging (either by you or by someone else). If this is the case, declare your independence and GTFO. Seriously. This situation is giving off bad vibes anyway. It may take a while for you to trust enough to love again, but you absolutely will. You are attractive, kindhearted, and sweet! That’s an irresistible combo.

If you’re single and thinking about approaching someone romantically this week, you can... but you probably aren’t ready, and the attempt may come off as immature and poorly planned. If you really think this person is your soulmate, then I would advise giving it a better effort. The person you plan to approach may be very defensive or shut off. Be prepared to bring on a Major Romantic Gesture if you want to seduce them and take down their walls! Regardless, take a chill pill on the social media stalking, bud — you’ll just psych yourself out. Go outside and hang out with your friends instead!

If you’re in a relationship, it looks like silly squabbles may be coming between y’all, but I do see a possibility of them being resolved with some balance. Sometimes you just have to agree to disagree. Change the subject, have some patience, and if you are really at an impasse, then take a break to yourself to reflect. Otherwise, things could get ugly and we don’t want that! Is there something you’re being willfully blind to? Something you are ignoring? I see it becoming a big problem later on.

For those of you who are committed, someone in the relationship may be judgmental about the other person’s friend group (are they bad influences?? Perhaps. But that’s none of their business if everyone is adults). If this is the case, suck it up and go find some work to do... they aren’t going to change their friends for you, so let it go. Domineering attitudes will not help the matter. Just compartmentalize the time you spend with those people and leave it at that.

You and your partner are allowed to have your own independent lives, so let that happen. If this is an issue, I see it being unresolved for quite some time. But if you stay open to the love and to helping each other grow, and remind each other how attractive you find each other, despite the negatives, I see you bringing this back from the brink of death and successfully turning over a new leaf/making it to the next chapter in the relationship!

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part i

Quick note: This is taking place in the 2020-21 season, as if the Islanders still play at Barclays; I know they won’t in actuality. In the story, I’m also going to be taking some liberties with what the duties of a team’s general counsel and legal team would actually be in charge of. My understanding, as a pre-law student, is that it’s more on the corporate angle, dealing with contracts and stuff — in addition to that, Cass will also be dealing with some more immigration and employment law as well. 

part i

October 1

“Adiós, mamá. Hablamos pronto. Te amo.” Cassidy hung up, breathing out a tense sigh and rubbing her temples with the heels of her hands. Talking to her mom usually helped to calm her down, bring her back to Earth, but for whatever reason it wasn’t taking. She took a brief glance at the casebook open on her dinged-up Ikea desk. Federal Indian Law. She liked the class, genuinely, but her day had started off bad and gotten worse pretty damn quickly. First she was out of her favorite tea, then her advisor cancelled their meeting, then it started raining as she walked back to her MTA stop, so she had missed the train. Another came fifteen minutes later, but the damage was already done. The only bright spot in the day, aside from calling her mom, had been the cute guy at the Polish deli down the street who had put extra peppers on her Philly cheesesteak. She unwrapped the sandwich, taking a moody bite out of the end. A caramelized onion dropped to the floor. Sighing, she leaned down to pick it up, hurtling it in the direction of the trashcan but only half-looking to see if it reached its target destination. Despite the name, Cass had never had a cheesesteak before she moved to New York, and it wasn’t even because she wasn’t a sandwich person. No, Cass loved a good sandwich, but between her proclivity towards a good BLT and her mom’s homemade Mexican food, she just hadn’t gotten around to it. 

Her laptop dinged with an email notification. What now? She swiped over to the mail page, taking another bite as she read the subject line. Experiential learning requirement - unmet. Her brow furrowed. Unmet? Clicking it open, she scanned the email, clearly something automated from the registrar’s office. Yet to complete Columbia’s experiential learning requirement...We suggest you connect with professors...You have until October 8 to submit...Cassidy never finished her sandwich. “Oh my God,” she muttered to herself, feeling her cheeks heat up. “How could you do this? How could you be so stupid, Cass?” She was normally so on top of everything, never missed a date, never forgot an assignment, so how could she have missed one of the only things left to do to graduate? Her law school required all of the graduates to complete some sort of experiential learning requirement — some kind of externship, clinic, summer associate position, anything to get them “out in the real world.” That’s when it hit her. She had coached her high school’s mock trial team the summer after her first year, and interned at the Hartford County DA’s the summer after. But they paid her. Her school had a weird ‘double-dip’ policy, where you weren’t allowed to take a position for class credit and get paid at the same time. It was a confusing rule, convoluted and bizarre and probably a little bit elitist, but it was a rule. As if the day couldn’t get any worse, and then somehow it did. 

Turning to her laptop, she started searching for just about anything that could possibly help her. The school’s website, the Manhattan District Attorney’s, state offices, NGOs, federal prosecutors, anyone that might have a lead. Frantically dragging over her resumé and throwing together a cover letter that probably (hopefully) looked way more interesting than it actually was, Cassidy fired off email after email after email. Two hours later, she had sent off some twenty-odd applications, hoping that at least one or two would end up panning out. Glancing at her watch, she let out an exasperated breath. 12:22 A.M. Her classes didn’t start until nine, but it took almost an hour and a subway connection to get to Columbia, and she had to eat and shower before. So, really, it meant getting up at about seven. She needed to go to bed. 

Stomach reeling and feeling more resigned than anything, Cass haphazardly brushed her teeth, flossed — it didn’t matter how tired she was, she’d never forget to floss — and clambered into bed, wearing a faded, way-too-big Rangers t-shirt. I’ll be okay. She took a deep breath. It’ll be okay. It has to be. Cassidy Cabrera Shaw was tough as nails and stubborn as hell, and she wasn’t going to let everything she had worked so hard for fall apart so easily. 

Whenever Cass was nervous, or anxious, or afraid, she was never able to sleep well. She ended up waking up at ten past six, sitting in her bed for fifteen minutes praying that she’d fall back asleep, and finally accepting her fate that sleep just wasn’t going to come. Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from where she had left it charging on the nightstand. Nightstand was maybe a generous term for it; technically, it was a wooden milk crate that she had spray painted white when she and the other girls had moved into the apartment two years prior. She had a little bit of money set aside from college, but every penny possible was going towards tuition and those ungodly-expensive books that she had to buy every semester. The mattress and frame were from Ikea, and Cass had brought some things like bedding and a desk from her old room. The rest of it — rugs, lighting, and decorations like her six-inch ceramic peacock (his name was Charles) had come from a combination of Goodwill runs and senior citizen yard sales. 

Wincing as she did so, Cass pulled up her email, bracing herself for the inevitable barrage of rejection. After scrolling past ten or so automated “no longer hiring” and “position has been filled” messages, one caught her eye. She had sent a few emails to professors of hers, not expecting to hear anything back for a few days. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but there certainly were advantages of going to school in a city as massive as New York. All of her professors knew someone and had some kind of connection from their own education, or days in the practice, or childhood summer trips to the Hamptons with someone who just so happened to be a judge on the Second Circuit Court — that last one was last year’s employment law professor. One particular subject line caught her eye. Thought you might be interested, Professor Murakami had written. David, as he preferred to be called, was her Sports Law professor from last year. She didn’t go into the class expecting to enjoy it all that much, if she was being honest. She had gotten a crappy registration time and most other classes were filled, so it had started out as a placeholder and nothing more. Over the semester, though, it had quickly become one of her favorites, combining pieces of everything else she had studied into one cohesive course. Cass also wasn’t in a position to be turning down any potential offers, so she opened the email and started reading. 

I got your email, Cassidy, and think I might be able to help. Okay, so far, so good. I happen to have a contact in the counsel’s office of one of the professional sports teams in the city. That’s exactly what Cass was talking about — where do these people meet each other? Is there some kind of exclusive speakeasy you’re given the password to as soon as you’re admitted to the state bar? Chris Cohen works for the Islanders, and I remember you talking about how interested in hockey you are. Okay, true, but the Islanders? She had practically been born with a Ranger’s jersey on. Beggars can’t be choosers, she thought. I gave him a heads-up that I’d likely be sending a promising candidate his way, so just let me know if this sounds like something you’d be interested in and I’ll send along your contact information. 

Cass couldn’t respond fast enough. Yes, please! 

---

Wednesdays were her ‘easy’ days, if you could say that. She had Environmental Law and Human Rights back-to-back, but anything after noon was pretty much fair game. That being said, it certainly didn’t mean that she was any less stressed. There were at least a hundred pages to read before class the next day, she had a sample essay due for bar prep, and her mind was still racing about the email. Grabbing a gyro from the cart outside of her last class of the day, Cass stress-ate with one hand while continually refreshing her inbox with the other.  Food wasn’t allowed in the library, so she ate the last few bites right outside the doors, throwing away the wrapper and squeezing past the hordes of clearly overwhelmed first-years running to get to class on time. 

Popping her Airpods out of their case and into her ears, Cass briskly made her way up the stairs to the third floor, crossing her fingers that her usual spot, a big blue chair over by the research desk, was open. She was in luck, pulling out a water bottle and laptop and getting to work on editing. Four hours later, she had reached some semblance of satisfaction with her work, shutting off her computer and making her way to the subway. There was about half an hour before she had to transfer to the line that would take her to the apartment; squeezing into one of the last free seats, she tugged out a textbook and a highlighter. Why her professor insisted on assigning the entire text of the United Nations charter was a mystery to her, but she’d rather jump off a cliff than be cold called on without an answer. Transferring at Grand Concourse took about ten minutes — it was rush hour, so the first train to come was entirely full — and another twenty or so minutes later, she was letting herself into her shared East Bronx apartment. 

Hanging up her denim jacket by the door and toeing off her sneakers, Cass let out a not-so-subtle exasperated sigh. 

“One of those days?” Alicia piped in from the kitchen. Alicia also lived in the apartment, one of the four sorority sisters-turned-roommates who had made the move from Connecticut down to New York after graduation. Cass padded into the kitchen, where she was greeted by Alicia in front of a skillet and rice cooker, intensely sautéeing some vegetables.

“You have no idea,” Cass said, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha making?” There were obviously some nights when not everyone was home — most often either Cass or Ryanne, who was in med school — but they always tried to have a few nights a week where someone would cook a meal for the whole house. 

“Japchae, it’s my mom’s recipe,” she replied. “I called her and asked how much sesame oil to use, and she just said ‘until it tastes right.’ Like, I love you, Mom, but that doesn’t really help my cause, does it?”

Cass snorted. “Oh for sure, it’s the same way with me. Do you remember the first time I made tamales down here?” Cass had grown up eating and making tamales with her mom and abuela, but she had never been allowed to really take the reins. She had the recipe, though, so the first night after they were moved in, she ventured down to the closest bodega, bought the ingredients, and decided to try her hand making them from scratch. The recipe, however, left out the key piece of exactly how much water to use for steaming — Cass didn’t know, and her mom had always just eyeballed it. So she had ended up putting in way too little and setting the stove way too hot, and to make a long story short, ended up setting off the fire alarm. The one saving grace was the extremely attractive police office that came to double-check the false alarm, but even he couldn’t wipe the mortified expression off of her face. 

“How could I forget?” Alicia responded with a grin. “Go put your shit down, it’ll be ready in a few.”

Cass playfully rolled her eyes, heading towards her room in the back. “Yes, mother.” Their apartment was a three bedroom; while obviously it would have been amazing for everyone to have their own, it was still New York City and none of them were exactly rolling in the dough. Cassidy and Ryanne were obviously still students, and while Alicia and Stella had actual jobs  — Stella worked international business down by Wall Street and Alicia did something with satellites in Queens — none of them were exactly inclined to set out on their own just yet. So Stella and Alicia shared a room, and she and Ryanne had their own. She shrugged off her jacket, slinging her backpack onto the bed before chugging the rest of her water bottle and checking her phone. Two new emails. A 20% off coupon to Lush, and one from Chris Cohen. Chris Cohen? It took her a minute to remember, but when she did, she couldn’t read it fast enough.

Honestly, Cass didn’t read the whole thing, but got enough information to know that she had an interview Friday afternoon at the office in Brooklyn, that Chris  — he had said to call him Chris — said she came with a stellar recommendation from Professor Murakami (an old law school buddy, figures) and that there was no way in hell she was going to fuck this up. She wouldn’t let herself. 

---

Cass was lucky her Thursdays were so packed; if she had any extra time to stress over her impending interview, she would have, but she couldn’t. She had two ‘free’ hours in between classes, but after she had scarfed down lunch (Alicia had, mercifully, made plenty of leftovers) it was the only stretch she had to hit the gym. Coupled with the time it took to walk there, change, and shower after, there really wasn’t much in the way of downtime. After classes was her bar prep group, and the day was so exhausting that it was pretty much all she could manage to take the train home, microwave dinosaur chicken nuggets, and stumble into bed. After flossing. 

---

If Cassidy lived in any other city, she would have felt wildly out of place on her morning commute. Who shows up to school wearing a suit? She wasn’t an absolute masochist, so her heels were in her bag. But for once in her life she didn’t feel so out of place among the presumably-highbrow, presumably-making-six-figures crowd surrounding her. The suit had been her first big purchase for herself  — she had scraped by without one in college, but invested as soon as she had a little saved up from her summer job at a boutique in town. Her mother had always told her that it was the woman who made the clothes, rather than the other way around, and Cass always did what her mom said. 

Samaira, one of her friends and another editor on the Columbia Law Review, caught up to her as they both left the twice-weekly morning meeting. “You seem kind of jumpy, Cass. What’s up?”

Cassidy wrung her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I told you that I missed the internship requirement thing, right?” Samaira nodded. “Well, I have an internship in,” she paused to look at her watch, “two hours, and I’m so nervous I’m going to mess this up. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t get it. There’s not time to look for something else, there’s no alternative, and I don’t know what to do if my own stupidity and forgetfulness is the only thing standing in between me and something I’ve worked so fucking hard for—”

Samaira cut her off. “I’m going to stop you there. That’s bull, Cass, and you know it. You are the furthest thing from a disappointment. You’re one of the kindest, sharpest, and most creative people I know, and you’re not going to let something as petty as a deadline stand in your way. Time gets away from all of us sometimes, and it’s nothing to beat yourself up over. I want you to be confident and have faith in yourself, because you deserve it, but if you don’t, it’s okay. I get it. I believe in you enough for the both of us.” She squeezed Cass’ hand. 

She managed a watery smile. “Thanks, Samaira.”

“Any time,” she replied easily. “I’ve got to run to class now, but I want to hear how it went the second you get out, okay?”

“I will.”

Samaira rolled her eyes. “I mean it. You’re going to crush this, Cass. Love you!” She added, waving goodbye as she turned the corner.

There was half an hour before Cass needed to head over to the interview, and before she knew it her feet had taken her to her favorite spot on the north side of Central Park. Grabbing a bagel, she thankfully found the bench empty. After finishing the bagel — she would have preferred cheese, but they were out, so cinnamon raisin it was — and the better part of her Hozier-dominated acoustic playlist, it was time to catch the train. She jumped on with barely a second to spare, grabbing a strap and trying to avoid bumping into anyone. 

A seat opened up about halfway to Brooklyn, and Cass took the opportunity to unceremoniously tug off her much more practical flats and switch into the much more professional ankle-strap heels that had been stuffed in her backpack all day. For a fleeting moment, she was worried what everyone around her would think; she was, after all, technically changing on public transportation. A man got on at the next stop who was dressed head-to-toe in neon orange while carrying a Pomeranian in his purse. Nobody batted an eye. She got over herself pretty quickly.

Getting off at the Barclays Center station, Cass pulled out her phone, opening up the camera to give herself a quick once-over. As much as she hated it, first impressions really were everything. Lipstick? Not smudged. Hair? Minimal flyaways. Teeth? No spinach to be seen. Triple-checking that she had the time right, Cass walked through the doors of the office building, Islanders logo emblazoned on the wall behind the secretary’s desk. 

“Hi,” she said tentatively, catching his attention. “I have an interview with Chris Cohen at 2?” 

The secretary nodded, smiling warmly at her. “No problem. I’m Josh, you can have a seat over there,” he nodded to the small waiting area off to the side, “and I’ll call you when he’s ready for you to be sent up.”

Cass didn’t wait for more than five minutes before Josh gave her the go-ahead, and she was soon headed up the elevator to Chris’ office. “Fourth door on the left. It should have his name on it,” Josh had added. 

She raised her fist, knocking quickly on the frosted glass. It swung open a second later, a kind-looking man with glasses and salt-and-pepper hair answering. “You must be Cassidy. I’m Chris Cohen, so nice to meet you. Come right in,” he said, ushering her through the room, where several other associates sat at desks, and into his office. 

“David’s always good at keeping an eye out for me in his courses, and I was happy he passed you along,” Chris said, pulling out her resumé. “And you’re a 3L, correct?” She nodded. “Good. So let’s dive right into it. What courses and work experience do you have that you feel best position you for success in this position?” Much though Cass was loath to admit it, if there was anything she was good at, it was talking herself up. There was a reason her high school superlative was “Most Likely to be Able to Talk Their Way Out of a Ticket.” She launched into a well-rehearsed response, making sure to lace in her love for hockey once or twice. If nothing else, it would hopefully at least get her some brownie points. He had a few questions about her resumé, asked about her work on the law review, a few hypotheticals about contract law. She was batting a thousand until he asked the dreaded final question. “Do you have any questions for me?” 

Cass was wracking her brain, trying to come up with some intelligent-sounding thing to ask, but nothing came. “Uh—” she started, but was saved by the bell. Or, rather, saved by a frantic door opening and a panicked-sounding Mat Barzal bursting into the room. “Chris, I’ve got a problem.”

[the-currian]

I don't know if you do requests, but I really loved your yandere winter troupe headcannons, they sent chills down my spine, and I was wondering if you'd be open to doing a yandere headcannons for autumn troupe?

I don’t really consider my blog a request blog, but I will accept most requests that are sent my way!! Ask, and you shall receive lol I hope you like this one, too!!

--

A3! Autumn Troupe Yandere Headcanons

(No Azami because I’m only playing the English version and don’t have a good grasp of his character yet)

Banri Settsu

This guy is used to getting everything he wants – definitely a possessive-protective type.

Thus, unconsciously or not, he views you as his toy – a pretty little doll thing to do with as he pleases. Refers to you as his babydoll.

Intent on keeping his tough-guy image, but still with a need to keep you, his hand grips harshly against your waist when in public, his face contorted into a menacing scowl to let everyone know you belong to him. If anyone even looks at you the wrong way, a growl will reverberate from him through your body, followed by some curses as he glares at the offender.

If the offender is particularly aggressive and refuses to be driven off, he throws back the aggression tenfold by a passionate and heated assault on your lips until the goddamn person gets the memo and leaves.

In private he’s much more openly affectionate. If you try to leave his embrace, he won’t relent, only allowing it to end on his terms, scoffing at you because did you forget who he is and what he is capable of?

Sakyo Furuichi

Probably the most dangerous of the whole troupe – if not the whole company.

Sakyo is busy with yakuza-related business but has the power and resources to watch over you. Through this, he is able to learn anything and everything he can about you.

He used this to give you gifts offhandedly, saying things like “It seemed like something you would like.” when giving you things that were exactly what you wanted. You find it intriguing at first, wondering how he always seems to know what’s exactly on your mind.

Really good at manipulation. “I know I can’t be with you that often, but I’m really trying here. Going into this relationship you told me you didn’t mind my profession. What’s changed? Are you disgusted by me now? About my lifestyle?”

Stages a kidnapping with his gang to make you become dependent on him. He takes you to a hideout secluded from your normal day-to-day life. Whenever you probe a bit too much, he brushes you off with “It’s just until the danger passes.” “It’s for your own safety.” “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I just love you so much.”

And it works. You believe him.

However, that doesn’t mean that you don’t get antsy while in seclusion, and you end up attempting some things that Sakyo would definitely not approve of. Somehow, your plans always get thwarted by one of Sakyo’s associates or Sakyo himself dropping by at inopportune times. To be honest, he finds it adorable that you think you can escape him.

Sakoda is the tattletale. He shadows you whenever Sakyo himself can’t. Doesn’t mind the Sakyo’s behavior at all; as long as the boss is happy, right? Is definitely Sakyo’s worst enabler.

Omi Fushimi

The two of you start out as friends. Gradually you spent more and more time together until you grew closer. Both of you became attached to one another but you hadn’t realized just how attached Omi would be.

He asks you to be the subject of his pictures for his photography club. His members sung their praises, but Omi didn’t care for them much as he realized he didn’t like that the other guys in the club were talking about you. When they ask him if you could be their subject he gives them a flat ‘no’, storming out of the club room.

((lol as soon I finished writing that bullet I realized it’s literally this but in a more sinister context:))

It becomes an insidious obsession for him. Having impromptu photo shoots with you, taking candids of you on dates, until one day…

When you get back home you discover pictures of you in some quite intimate situations when you were all by yourself. Sometimes, they are accompanied by notes on the back. Never let anyone else see you like this. You’re mine. You should be more careful with your windows, darling.

Does not tolerate admirers at all. Does not engage. Picks you up like a potato sack or a blushing bride, depending on his mood, to carry you away from those villains.

Treats you like a queen. Truly, madly in love with you. He sincerely just wants to love you. Showers you with love and affection.

He is incapable of blaming you for anything you say or do against him.

He’s usually calm and collected, but if you intentionally draw out his anger to the breaking point, he may just strike you (he’s not called the Mad Wolf for nothing)

After that incident he closes himself off from you for awhile, apologizing on a daily basis. Even when you reassure him that it’s alright and it wasn’t his fault - it was yours - he doesn’t accept that; it haunts him for a long time.

Taichi Nanao

 At first, Taichi is content with watching you from afar – watching from the sidelines. He never felt worthy enough for you. He’s always dreamed of romance and doesn’t want to screw it up.

That all changed one day when he noticed someone was taking up too much of your time for you to be comfortable, so he decides to confront them.

You just so happened to be passing by, stopping out of curiosity when you heard your name come up. You come across what seems to be Taichi reprimanding a guy that’s been approaching you a lot lately.

‘Serves him right,’ you think, ‘The poor guy doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.’

“Stay away! They’re mine, not yours! I love them, but even I wouldn’t dare take up too much of her time like that, you creep!”

In hindsight, perhaps you should have seen this coming.

Oblivious of the future to come, you break up the fight and pull Taichi aside, confessing your feelings for him, thanking him for standing up for you.

“R-really?” Taichi beams, tears coming to his eyes. “I promise to never let you go! You’ll see, I’ll become a man worthy of you!”

When you start dating he stops stalking you in favor of bombarding you with texts and calls – he always wants to know where you are, who you’re with, when he can see you next.

This boys craves attention – he’s like a puppy, really. He desperately seeks opportunities to be physically close to you.

Manipulates you into staying with him by sabotaging your image in public, causing a scene. (Hey, if he could sabotage the Autumn troupe, what’s stopping him with you?)

“That was really low of you to use me like that just so you could get in with the Mankai company.” “W-what are you talking about? I didn’t use you!” “Why would you do that? Am I not good enough?” Taichi chuckles ruefully. “Then again, I should’ve expected this, huh? I’m never good enough. It was sill of me to think that maybe you would be different–“ “Taichi, I do care! Please, please don’t say that!” “Really? Actions speak louder than words. You’re gonna have to do better than that. Show me.”

Juza Hyodo

Ordinarily chill. He just wants to see you happy. Whatever you need, he’ll go lengths for you. …Anything.

Physically rough with outsiders. If you’re ever threatened he will become ruthlessly protective. No amount of you pleading or crying will stop him from exacting revenge on the perpetrator. And at the end of it, he’ll pull you into his arms, stroking your hair, ignorant of the fact that he’s smearing blood in it because all that matters is that you’re safe.

He won’t restrict you from going outside but he makes sure that you’re firmly at his side, having you in his grip to keep you protected but more to let everyone know that you’re his.

Boy has a terrifying aura and he definitely knows how to use it.

If you ever confront him about his behavior, he’ll simply stare at you with a piercing gaze, getting you to drop it. If you are particularly persistent he’ll tug you into his embrace, hoping to distract you.

If you still refuse, pushing him away, he will give into his anger. Although he would never physically harm you, he’s not against threatening you into submission. His tall frame looms over you and he growls your name in a commanding voice as he traps you between a wall and his threatening stature, practically crushing you against it. Still, any crying or pleading from you is met with a threatening silence, and despite your stammers of fear he continues this until he is able to calm down.

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Bonus Chapter: Last Name

Cinder released an enormous sigh, turning over so she rested on her back. She was at the Crown’s house— or really, mansion— to visit Rikan with Kai for Labor Day weekend. The place was surprisingly cosy despite the large spaciousness of it, and Cinder had found herself resting on an enormous couch with a view of the backyard. She could see assorted fruit trees and a worn, rusted water fountain. It was beautiful and serene, but Cinder’s heart felt tumultuous.

She stared up at the ceiling, willing the blank white canvas to make a decision for her, but it made no response to her silent pleas.

Over eight months had passed since she had banished her mother to the Gray Realm— eight months since Kai had died. They had both had long recoveries ahead of them, filled with skin grafting and physical therapy. But everything had turned out alright. They were alive and together, and that was all Cinder needed.

It was strange to her how fast her life had changed. In almost no time at all she’d gone from being a girl with no friends, living a life of constant loneliness and despair to having an outpouring of love in her life. It was almost overwhelming at times. She had never before been so well-cared for.

“You okay?”

Cinder turned her gaze from the ceiling and found Kai standing in the doorway. She wasn’t entirely sure what one would call the room she currently occupied (she wasn’t up to date on snobby rich people terms), but there was a marvelous grand piano in the corner and a bookshelf full of sheet music. The two red velvet couches in the room resided adjacent to the marvelous instrument.

“Mhmm,” Cinder hummed as Kai sat down beside her feet. He pulled her legs— both the real one and the prosthetic— into his lap, pinching her toes softly despite her socks. She closed her eyes, reveling in his touch.

“How was the business call?” Cinder asked, reaching to the back of her head and pulling the elastic out of her hair. It was a complete mess of brown tangles, but she didn’t particularly care. It went well with the old baggy t-shirt and gray sweatpants she had borrowed from Kai.

“Oh, you know, just chummy,” Kai said. He heaved a great sigh. “It’s just all the same stuff, y’know?” He bit his lower lip in contemplation, and Cinder couldn’t help but draw closer to him.

He had often expressed his frustrations with the company with her— something that he had never done with anyone else aside from Thorne. Not even Kai’s father knew his own disdain for the business, and while Cinder had encouraged him to tell him, Kai had never taken her advice. It was the family duty after all; something that Cinder would never understand.

Cinder settled herself beside Kai, wrapping her arms around his middle and placing her head on his shoulder. His body curled to meet hers, pulling her closer despite his nice dress clothes. She breathed him in, smiling at the distinctly Kai scent of laundry detergent and chocolate cereal.

“Enough about my troubles,” Kai said, brushing Cinder’s hair back from her face. “What’s got you down? You’ve got that distracted-but-not-in-a-good-way look on your face. Is something up?”

There was an edge of fear in his voice— something that Cinder despised. She knew that it was just his concern for her and her wellbeing, but the fact that he had reason to be cautious around such a subject made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t explain. If only she were simply the girl he had saved from the fire, rather than also being the one whose ghost mother had killed him.

“I want to change my name,” Cinder said.

Kai furrowed his brow, his lips twisting. “I know Thorne teases you about having the name Cinder and having been burned alive a lot, but–”

“My last name,” Cinder corrected. “And my legal name is still Selene, you know. Selene Linh. But I just, I don’t know. I hate every time I get mail and it says ‘Selene Linh’ or I go to the doctor and have to write that down as my name. It just feels wrong. That’s not who I am.”

Kai nodded his head, his eyes alighting on a tree out the window. He had a far off look on his face that Cinder couldn’t quite understand— as if he were thinking back on a distant memory. She had never been one to dwell on the past; she had no reason to, for her past was filled with little joy and innumerable cruelties.

“Do you… do you think it’s a bad idea?” Cinder asked, somewhat agitated. Though Kai was her boyfriend and, as far as she knew, the love of her life, she didn’t think he should have much say in this matter.

“No,” Kai said, the word coming out too fast. He turned his attention back to her, gifting her one of his most heart-stopping smiles. “What names are you thinking?”

“That’s the thing I can’t seem to decide on,” Cinder admitted, easing back once more. “I could become a Blackburn again, though I don’t particularly want to. That’s another name I want left in the past. Maha offered me the Kesley name, but I don’t feel comfortable with that one either.”

In the months since Cinder had banished the ghost of her mother, she’d regained contact with the Kesley family, and even gone out to visit them once. It had been bittersweet, but her old foster parents and even their other son had been kind to her. It was more than she felt she didn't deserve after all she’d done, but the new bond between them gave her soul some sense of peace over the matter.

Cinder heaved a great sigh, burying her face in Kai’s shirt. There was a faint scent of cologne close to his neck, but only enough that Cinder could catch the memory of it. That was one more thing she loved about Kai: his frugal use of cologne— unlike Thorne.

“The problem is,” Cinder murmured into his shirt. “Is that I want to change it, but I just don’t know what I want to change it to, you know? Maybe I should just close my eyes and scroll down a list or something.”

“Gah, don’t do that.” Kai brushed his fingers against her cheek, and Cinder’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Even after months of being together, she still couldn’t get over the thrill of simply being touched by him. “You could end up with a name like Smith or Johnson or something equally as boring.”

Cinder scrunched her nose. “I would still have veto power. It’s not like I’d automatically go with whatever I chose. But you know… if there was something cool. If it felt right.”

“Or,” Kai said, drawing out the word in a way that a child would pull apart taffy. “You could, um, change your last name to something like…”

She waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she urged him on. “Something like?”

“You could always change it to Crown.” The words spilled from his mouth with the speed and nervousness of a hummingbird’s wings.

“What?”

“I mean,” Kai spluttered. “If you want to. You would have the alliteration thing going for you, which is always a lot of fun. But that’s only if you keep the name Cinder–”

“Slow down,” Cinder cut in. She pulled herself into a sitting position, looking down on Kai and his flustered eyes and red cheeks. “Crown is your last name.”

“I know that.”

“But you want it to be my last name?”

“It was more of an offer for it to be your last name than anything else,” Kai said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as all his nerves seemed to leave him. He sat up, pushing himself to the end of the couch. “Well, actually, it was more of a proposal.”

Cinder’s jaw dropped, unable to comprehend the words that had just come from her boyfriend’s mouth. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Great stars above, she had seen her ghost mother send bolts of fire at her most cherished loved ones, yet somehow the words coming out of Kai’s mouth managed to astonish her into speechlessness.

“I think I messed that up,” Kai said, a shadow of doubt converging across his features. He scratched behind his ear, something that Cinder had come to recognize as a nervous tick. “Can I start over again?”

When Cinder said nothing, Kai took in a deep breath and began once more. “Cinder,” he said, his copper eyes fastened on hers with the shining brilliance of the moon in a black sky. “I love you. And I will love you no matter what your name is. Whether you’re Cinder Linh or Kesley or even Smith.” He made a face. “Change your name to whatever you desire, and I will still love you. You are not a name, but a heart and soul— and my heart and soul fell for yours far too long ago and far too hard for me to ever go back.”

Cinder felt her eyes burn as Kai delivered his speech to her, his words flowing with the earth-shattering eloquence of a siren’s song, leaving Cinder wanting only more. She could have drowned in the soft stream of Kai’s words and felt nothing but ecstasy.

“I know we haven’t known each other long— not even a year. But I don’t think time makes a difference in matters of the heart. I love you, and want to marry you. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. If you want my last name in return, take it. It’s yours as much as I am.”

“Kai,” Cinder whispered, searching his eyes for something— anything that betrayed his words. She found only the earnestness of his soul. She stared at him until a smile crept up his cheeks. He placed a hand on her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her nose. “Are you okay?”

Laughter burst forth from Kai, surprising Cinder. She didn’t find the situation particularly funny.

“What?” She asked.

“Yes, of course,” Kai responded, bumping his forehead against hers. “It’s just that you always ask me that question whenever I’m trying to make any sort of move on you.”

“You’re making a move on me?” Cinder drawled, half joking and half not.

“I did kind of just ask you to marry me,” Kai said, nibbling on his lower lip.

Cinder rolled her eyes. “I don’t actually recall you ever asking me that question.”

“Oh, my bad,” Kai said, red coloring his cheeks. He drew away from Cinder, and she instantly regretted her sarcasm. She wanted for him to come back to her— to touch her and hold her once more.

He knelt down on the floor in front of Cinder and took her hand. He was smiling that almost goofy grin of his as he looked up at her. Sometimes she couldn’t believe that he was still a part of her life. After everything that she had put him through, it would have been reasonable for him to leave. But Kai had never been a reasonable man.

“Cinder?” Kai asked. A black lock of hair fell into his eyes and Cinder brushed it back with careful fingers. He snatched her hand from his face and held fast to both her hands. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, but with you, I never have. So Cinder, insert your last name of choice, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

It was strange how the word slipped out of her mouth without her even thinking about it— there was no need for her to. For if there was one thing in this world that she was certain about, it was her love for Kai.

She pulled his face toward hers and kissed him. It felt much like their first kiss, except the flames had come early, dancing within her heart as she reveled in the idea of being his forever. She was a girl with no home and no last name— a girl once cursed to wander the earth alone for all eternity. But she had love; and in the end, that counted for more than anything else in the world.

[lokidrabbles]

A talk of Fidelity (Loki x Reader Oneshot)

After a failed attempt to make him envious, the reader finds out of Loki’s past involved with the Goddess of Fidelity.

Note: This is a little lengthy, however I hope this is as close to gender neutral as it can be!

As usual, you found the Asgardian prince making himself at home in your kitchen, his nose deep into some archaic textbook and a mug of some hot drink beside him on your dining table. You noted Loki must have probably rummaged through your cupboards in search of something to munch or sip on, purposefully looking for whatever type of tea you had picked up during your last shopping trip. You had grown to become very familiar with this type of setting and even began to look a little forward to it at the end of your workday. Loki (at least you assumed) would wait for you to arrive to your small abode, chiming in on your musings from the day, whatever drama had happened between your coworkers, or how much you had been craving some sort of sweet. Ever so often, Loki would offer some type of commentary or disclosure on how humans, or Midgardians, had such an unusual way to go about their day.

Today, however, you were understandably curious at how Loki would react to your a certain account on your way home from work, and so, you jumped right into the conversation piece unannounced.

“You won’t believe what just happened to me on my way home.”

You rang in quite loudly, placing your belongings on the kitchen counter. Loki, a a tad irritated you had disrupted his focus with such an entrance, gently closed his literature, his eyes narrowed on you.

“Pray tell us.”

You gingerly took a seat next to him on the table, a playful grin displayed on your face.

“Guess.”

“No.”

“Okay, fine I’ll tell you!” You inched in closer towards him, wanting to explore what possible way Loki would react to this. There was nothing exactly ‘official’ between the two of you, but, you figured the ongoing domesticity indicated some sort of relationship. And somewhere within your gut, you had a notion he’d be the jealous type.

Loki nodded quickly towards you, his arms crossed over his chest. “(Y/N), get on with it.”

“I ran into my ex! Can you believe it?” You whispered with some weird excitement in your voice.

Loki remained quiet for a bit, awaiting for you to offer more context towards the news. He shook his head and gestured at you. “Do you wish for me to maim him or something of the sort? You’ve lost me for a bit.”

“What? No!” You threw your hands up in the air, visibly surprised at his nonchalant approach to stabbing people. Knowing Loki for quite a while provided you with some understanding of the way he would often like to resolve issues as such. And you could not allow him to freely roam the city and potentially harm someone. Again.

“What do you want me to do with this information then?”

You sputtered. “Don’t you want to know what we talked about?”

“I have a hunch I’m going to hear about it regardless.”

You clasped your hands together eagerly. “Well, he asked if I was seeing anyone. Obviously, he was probably insinuating I’d be free tonight or something of the sort.”

Loki nodded attentively, taking a quick sip of his tea.

“Or-.” You paused briefly. “Maybe they actually think I’m still single or something. But anyways, they did ask me for my current number so we could catch up sometime. Such a weird experience. Huh, Loki?

Your eyes were focused on Loki, awaiting for some type of arrogant comment on how you shouldn’t be talking to anyone else who has had this type of history with you. Yes, you were seeking out for some defensive words on his part as it absolutely melted you on the inside.

He yawned.

“You’re out of teabags by the way.”

Your grin immediately dropped to a scowl.

“You suck Loki.” Defeated, you drooped your head onto the table, a pronounced pout on your face. Loki raise an eyebrow at your dramatics, quickly catching on to your intentions.

“Was this your attempt to make me jealous? Quite childish (Y/N), I don’t see the need to do so.”

Loki playfully flicked your lower lip, his own twisting into a sly smirk. He admitted to himself how it was endearing to have you explore this certain feeling within him in an attempt to have some affirmation over his possessiveness. Despite your arguments with him, Loki knew you enjoyed how dominating he would be from time to time.

“I’ve seen you flip out when other guys or girls keep staring at me. Why is this different?” You mumbled, gesturing confusion with your hands.

“Because I know you’re not foolish enough to run back to that rat of your ex-partner, or wanting to be unfaithful.”

“You sound so sure of yourself.” You replied with some contempt.

“Of course, you’ve been blessed with my companionship. Who in their right mind would want to ruin it?”

Loki lifted his chin up with much gusto, absolutely adoring his own stroke of his ego. You stuck your tongue out at him. You hated when he would become so arrogant (and knowing he was damn right about it).

“Being faithful huh?” You lifted yourself back upwards, resting your chin gently on your palm, again, leaning in closer towards him. “Is this something important to you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“I mean, when you mentioned that, to me it sounds like seeing this as something for the long run.” You explained, motioning your hand towards him and back to you.

“Fidelity is a virtue I do value very closely believe it or not. Is this odd?”

You snorted at how genuine his question sounded. As far as you knew, Loki was actually pretty “faithful” himself. There wouldn’t be a single night out where he wouldn’t receive unwarranted attention from others despite it being very clear he was there with you. Both men and women would literally throw themselves at him with deplorable attempts to flirt, buy him a drink or attempt to obtain his number (luckily he was still very technology challenged). Your quick instinct was to assume Loki would absolutely revel in the attention, however, he was quite tame when encountering this. Actually, to be fair, Loki was the most respectful person in this aspect, as he immediately shoots down anyone else attempting to woo him away from you. Something you never really experienced before.

“It’s not odd. However, you never struck me as the long term commitment type if we’re being honest here.”

Loki softly hummed, leaning back gently at the back of his chair.

“Maybe. That is something I would have considered a long time ago. I have been faithful to others before however.”

Your brain stopped functioning for a hot second.

“Wait, you actually dated someone in the past?” Honestly, the fact did not surprise you at much. You didn’t need to be reminded of the matter of Loki being over a thousand years old and probably being knowing more people than you ever will in your lifespan. Surely, somewhere within the entirely of his lifetime, he would have a partner of sort. Perhaps even more than you could count. You suddenly realized you were probably dating history’s biggest man whore.

Loki placed both of his palms together, looking up in deep contemplation, trying to draw far back from within his memory.

“Dated? Well, yes I suppose that’s the best way to refer to being betrothed nowadays.”

Luckily, you weren’t drinking anything of the sorts at the moment, or surely it would have been sprayed out loosely from your lips. Your eyes became wide, your expression largely speaking for your utmost shock at his words.

“Loki, you were engaged?” Your voice was loud and clear.

Loki shot you a confused look. He didn’t expect you to have taken something like this in such an adverse way. It wasn’t particularly an interesting fact to talk about. However, he did slightly enjoy how flushed you had looked, especially how your cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Touchy subject? You’re notably worked up over it. Look how red you’ve gotten.” He was humoring you again.

A sputtering noise came from your lips as you became at a loss for words. This certainly wasn’t being ‘worked’ up. This was genuinely new information for you. Very important information which you assumed would have been brought up at some point. You clasped your hands behind your head, clearly in disbelief as Loki continued to nonchalantly sip at his tea mug, completely unfazed by your current crisis.

“Uh, don’t you think that is an important detail to throw in? Especially to me.” You lowly said through your gritted teeth.  

“Why? It was a few centuries ago. Many, many years before the idea of you was even conceived.” He playfully poked your nose in an attempt to get you to lighten up. No avail, your gaze was still wary and rigid.

Loki, in obvious frustration, lowered his head and let out a pronounced sigh. “(Y/N), please. This is not as big of a situation as your’re believing it is.”

You released your hands, gripping them down at the edge of the table, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

“Hey, don’t get annoyed with me Loki. It’s just a tad irksome to just find out about, probably a significant period in your life. Especially as the person who is currently sleeping buck naked next to you.”

“And with this fact alone, you should know this is something you shouldn’t be so upset about. I don’t let just anyone take a gaze at my nude self.”

His brows bumped together in a scowl. “If I tell you, will you please stop interrogating me?” You nodded furiously, scooting your chair even closer to him, completely invading his personal bubble. “Tell me.”

“It was many years ago. I was young, my parents wanted to me to marry nobility, many events transpired in between, and I never wed her. Clear? Honestly, it’s been so long ago, my memory is still a bit hazy with it all.”

“Why, what happened? Details, Loki.” You tapped harshly on the table with your finger. “You can’t just leave out details like that!”

In a flash, Loki quickly gripped your fidgeting hand, immediately halting your agitation towards him. His gaze was narrow and fixed on yours. “Stop. Let me finish.”

You immediately shut your mouth like a scolded child. Loki was a trickster, but even you could tell when he was being stern with you.

“She died. That’s why I never got married.”

A knot formed in your throat. Immediately, you swallowed, and felt it drop down to the pit of your stomach with the weight of a boulder. Loki must have been able to take hint from your pale face, holding your hand very tightly to, once again, assure you everything was fine.

“I don’t understand.” It was all you could spew out.

“She died, it was a while ago, like I said. (Y/N), I’ve told you I don’t like to repeat myself.”

“I mean, I got that, but, how? What happened?”

“Does it matter? She died, and so, my engagement was null and void.”

Silence fell the both of you. You weren’t sure what to make of it. For now, you felt entirely like a pest towards him with how much you poked and prodded and a conversation piece which could have been hugely personal to him. Yet, at the same time you were happy he had told you such an intimate part of his past. Or at least you assumed it must have been something special for him.

You looked up at Loki, biting your lip in shame.

“What was her name?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, noting how your energy had died down along with your inquiry. In all honestly, Loki knew you had absolutely nothing to worry about. But again, you were human, and erratic, and he wanted to make sure you had some peace of mind. “You’re certain you want me to tell you more about her?”

“If you don’t mind.” You said meekly. Truthfully, it was something extremely hard to hear. Who would want to hear about your partner’s first potential life mate, only to hear they passed away abruptly? But you also wanted to demonstrate your personal strength to Loki. Whatever it meant.

Loki reach a hand towards your face, tucking a strand of lose hair behind your ear, slowly trickling his fingers across your check, caressing it gently. A seemingly simple gesture, but you knew exactly what he insinuated through it. Reassurance.

“Sigyn. She was the daughter of a nobleman who had a very prominent relationship with our family. Of course, many noble families would fight among each other to see which daughter would be able to wed into royalty. Quite a dense situation for me once I realized how most Asgardian noblewomen were.”

”Mhm?” ”Self-centered, vain. Not the type to have an engaging conversation with, if you understand what I mean. Luckily, Sigyn was a bit more interesting.”

”Interesting…in a good way?” You cocked your head playfully.

“Of course. She was young, very kind, very humble, but…she was a tad vapid and naive unfortunately.”

“And she got engaged to an arrogant and narcissistic Prince. I wonder who truly got the crappy end of the deal then.”

You attempted to picture a younger Loki within your imagination only utilizing your most recent information and notion you had of the Asgardian, which wasn’t exactly your notion of prince-y qualities.

“Mind you, there were many noblewomen who would have killed to be wed to me. Status, power, among many other qualities.”

You noted to overbearingly confident smile in his face. Like you said, arrogant and narcissistic.

“Tone it down Loki.” You retorted with jest. “Remember you got stuck with me, something faaaar from nobility, so come back down for a bit.”

“And you must remind me so Midgardian.” He arched a sly brow at you, knowing very well he was also pulling your leg. Loki raised himself from his seat, cup in hand, heading over to the sink to politely wash it after raiding your cabinets earlier.

A tug of curiosity continued to pull at you, despite fighting with yourself to stop being so damn nosy. But again, it was always some type of accomplishments to have Loki disclose something this personal towards you.

“As with most Asgardians, how unbelievably beautiful was she?” You began to slightly twiddle your thumbs, hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as you would imagine it to be.

“Most Asgardians? Well yes, she was among the most beautiful women in all of Asgard, worthy enough to be wed to one of the princes.” Loki muttered, continued to rinse out his cup, and drying his hands on a hand towel.

You snorted. “So I probably shouldn’t even fathom comparing myself to a literal goddess.”

Loki chortled. Your ears perked up. Loki never chortled. Your defenses shot up immediately.

“Oh, you are nowhere close to being like Sigyn. Goodness. It’s like…what’s the expression?” Loki turned to you, poking his lips in contemplation. “Comparing apples to…grapes?”

“Oranges, Loki. Apples to oranges. And no, that’s not making me feel any better.” You began to hesitantly tap on the table, shooting an extremely irritated look towards him.  

“Ah yes, oranges. Sigyn belonged to nobility. She had discipline, class, wisdom. And you are-”

“Don’t answer that! Ugh.” You, again, dramatically, drooped your head on the table, feeling that familiar weight over again. Loki rolled his eyes skyward, stepping behind you, patting your head to humor your theatrics.

Your eyes attempted to look behind towards him, slowly raising your head to a more mature position.

“Do you miss her?”

A simple question. Something Loki was able to respond to without any hesitation.

“I did, for a brief period. Time heals however, and I tend to be able move forward. She’s a fond memory now, back when everything seemed much more simpler.”

His last words sent a pang of pain in your chest. You were no stranger to Loki’s recent history and all of the travesties which had befallen him. Hearing him voice some far recognition of how life was, maybe, much happier, indirectly hurt.

“I’m sorry I brought this up. I’m happy you told me about it though.”

Loki leaned over behind you, his sleek arms wrapping around your shoulders in a close embrace, resting his neck on the crook of your neck. You shivered as you felt his soft breath on your bare skin, his lips dangerously close to touching your sensitive neck. You felt him chuckle slightly.

“I was going to say, while Sigyn was the definition of nobility, you are much more interesting.”

“Oh.” You cursed at him for being so damn slick with you. You felt his arms become tighter around you, and you swore you could feel his heartbeat along with yours.

“Perhaps why I have a sickening soft spot for you. You’re nothing like that, you are a completely different experience. You’re a  mess, a fool, a little dimwitted human. But you’re also the most genuine being I’ve ever met.”

You swore your heart was going to jump out of your chest at any moment, feeling Loki’s cool lips give you an endearing peck on your cheek. Your entire body heated up, and you cursed yourself at how ridiculous it must have been for you to have caused such a scene like this.However, you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t absolutely burst with glee at his attention towards you.

“(Y/N).” He whispered coolly into your ear.

“Hmm?” “If you ever tell me you’ve run into your ex-partner again, and you tell me you’ve talked to them again, I will make sure to make them disappear from this timeline. Don’t toy with me like this again.”

And yes, you determined Loki had a deep pang of jealousy over you, much to your dismay.

[terramythos]

TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 22 of 26

Title: House of Leaves (2000) 

Author: Mark Z. Danielewski

Genre/Tags: Horror, Fiction, Metafiction, Weird, First-Person, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator 

Rating: 6/10

Date Began: 7/28/2020

Date Finished: 8/09/2020

House of Leaves follows two narrative threads. One is the story of Johnny Truant, a burnout in his mid-twenties who finds a giant manuscript written by a deceased, blind hermit named Zampanò. The second is said manuscript -- The Navidson Record -- a pseudo-academic analysis of a found-footage horror film that doesn’t seem to exist. In it, Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist Will Navidson moves into a suburban home in Virginia with his partner Karen and their two children. Navidson soon makes the uncomfortable discovery that his new house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Over time he discovers more oddities -- a closet that wasn’t there before, and eventually a door that leads into an impossibly vast, dark series of rooms and hallways. 

While Johnny grows more obsessed with the work, his life begins to take a turn for the worse, as told in the footnotes of The Navidson Record. At the same time, the mysteries of the impossible, sinister house on Ash Tree Lane continue to deepen. 

To get a better idea try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead and take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails? don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms--you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book-- you won’t have time to even scream. 

Don’t look. 

I didn’t. 

Of course I looked. 

Some story spoilers under the cut. 

Whoo boy do I feel torn on this one. House of Leaves contains some really intriguing ideas, and when it’s done right, it’s some of the best stuff out there. Unfortunately, there are also several questionable choices and narrative decisions that, for me, tarnish the overall experience. It’s certainly an interesting read, even if the whole is ultimately less than the sum of its parts. 

First of all, I can see why people don’t like this book, or give up on it early (for me this was attempt number three). Despite an interesting concept and framing device, the first third or so of the book is pretty boring. Johnny is just not an interesting character. He does a lot of drugs and has a lot of (pretty unpleasant) sex and... that’s pretty much it, at least at the beginning. There’s occasional horror sections that are more interesting, where Johnny’s convinced he’s being hunted by something, but they’re few and far between. Meanwhile, the story in The Navidson Record seems content to focus on the relationship issues between two affluent suburbanites rather than the much more interesting, physically impossible house they live in. The early “exploration” sections are a little bit better, but overall I feel the opening act neglects the interesting premise. 

However, unlike many, I love the gimmick. The academic presentation of the Navidson story is replete with extensive (fake) footnotes,and there’s tons of self-indulgent rambling in both stories. I personally find it hilarious; it’s an intentionally dense parody of modern academic writing. Readers will note early that the typographical format is nonstandard, with the multiple concurrent stories denoted by different typefaces, certain words in color, footnotes within footnotes, etc. House of Leaves eventually goes off the chain with this concept, gracing us with pages that look like (minor spoilers) this or this. This leads into the best part of this book, namely... 

Its visual presentation! House of Leaves excels in conveying story and feeling through formatting decisions. The first picture I linked is one of many like it in a chapter about labyrinths. And reading it feels like navigating a labyrinth! It features a key “story”, but also daunting, multi-page lists of irrelevant names, buildings, architectural terms, etc. There are footnotes that don’t exist, then footnote citations that don’t seem to exist until one finds them later in the chapter. All this while physically turning the book or even grabbing a mirror to read certain passages. In short, it feels like navigating the twists, turns, and dead ends of a labyrinth. And that’s just one example -- other chapters utilize placement of the text to show where a character is in relation to others, what kind of things are happening around them, and so on. One chapter near the end features a square of text that gets progressively smaller as one turns the pages, which mirrors the claustrophobic feel of the narrative events. This is the coolest shit to me; I adore when a work utilizes its format to convey certain story elements. I usually see this in poetry and video games, but this is the first time I’ve seen it done so well in long-form fiction. City of Saints and Madmen and Shriek: An Afterword by Jeff VanderMeer, both of which I reviewed earlier this year, do something similar, and are clearly inspired by House of Leaves in more ways than one. 

And yes, the story does get a little better, though it never wows me. The central horror story is not overtly scary, but eeriness suffices, and I have a soft spot for architectural horror. Even Johnny and the Navidsons become more interesting characters over time. For example, I find Karen pretty annoying and generic for most of the book, but her development in later chapters makes her much more interesting. While I question the practical need for Johnny’s frame story, it does become more engaging as he descends into paranoia and madness.

So why the relatively low rating? Well... as I alluded to earlier, there’s some questionable stuff in House of Leaves that leaves (...hah?) a bad taste in my mouth. The first is a heavy focus on sexual violence against women. I did some extensive thinking on this throughout my read, but I just cannot find a valid reason for it. The subject feels thrown in for pure shock value, and especially from a male author, it seems tacky and voyeuristic. If it came up once or twice I’d probably be able to stomach this more easily, but it’s persistent throughout the story, and doesn’t contribute anything to the plot or horror (not that that would really make it better). I’m not saying books can’t have that content, but it’s just not explored in any meaningful way, and it feels cheap and shitty to throw it in something that traumatizing just to shock the audience. It’s like a bad jump scare but worse on every level. There’s even a part near the end written in code, which I took the time to decode, only to discover it’s yet another example of this. Like, really, dude? 

Second, this book’s portrayal of mental illness is not great. (major spoilers for Johnny’s arc.) One of the main things about Johnny’s story is he’s an unreliable narrator. From the outset, Johnny has occasional passages that can either be interpreted as genuine horror, or delusional breaks from reality. Reality vs unreality is a core theme throughout both stories. Is The Navidson Record real despite all evidence to the contrary? Is it real as in “is the film an actual thing” or “the events of the film are an actual thing”? and so on and so forth. Johnny’s sections mirror this; he’ll describe certain events, then later state they didn’t happen, contradict himself, or even describe a traumatic event through a made-up story. Eventually, the reader figures out parts of Johnny’s actual backstory, namely that when he was a small child, his mother was institutionalized for violent schizophrenia. Perhaps you can see where this is going... 

Schizophrenia-as-horror is ridiculously overdone. But it also demonizes mental illness, and schizophrenia in particular, in a way that is actively harmful. Don’t misunderstand me, horror can be a great way to explore mental illness, but when it’s done wrong? Woof. Unfortunately House of Leaves doesn’t do it justice. While it avoids some cliches, it equates the horror elements of Johnny’s story to the emergence of his latent schizophrenia. This isn’t outwardly stated, and there are multiple interpretations of most of the story, but in lieu of solid and provable horror, it’s the most reasonable and consistent explanation. There’s also an emphasis on violent outbursts related to schizophrenia, which just isn’t an accurate portrayal of the condition. 

To Danielewski’s credit, it’s not entirely black and white. We do see how Johnny’s descent into paranoia negatively affects his life and interpersonal relationships. There’s a bonus section where we see all the letters Johnny’s mother wrote him while in the mental hospital, and we can see her love and compassion for him in parallel to the mental illness. But the experimental typographical style returns here to depict just how “scary” schizophrenia is, and that comes off as tacky to me. I think this is probably an example of a piece of media not aging well (after all, this book just turned 20), and there’s been a definite move away from this kind of thing in horror, but that doesn’t change the impression it leaves. For a book as supposedly original/groundbreaking as this, defaulting to standard bad horror tropes is disappointing. And using “it was schizophrenia all along” to explain the horror elements in Johnny’s story feels like a cop-out. I wish there was more mystery here, or alternate interpretations that actually make sense. 

Overall The Navidson Record part of the story feels more satisfying. I actually like that there isn’t a direct explanation for everything that happens. It feels like a more genuine horror story, regardless of whether you interpret it as a work of fiction within the story or not. There’s evidence for both. Part of me wishes the book had ended when this story ends (it doesn’t), or that the framing device with Johnny was absent, or something along those lines. Oh well-- this is the story we got, for better or worse. 

I don’t regret reading House of Leaves, and it’s certainly impressive for a debut novel. If you’re looking for a horror-flavored work of metafiction, it’s a valid place to start. I think the experimental style is a genuine treat to read, and perhaps the negative aspects won’t hit you as hard as they did to me. But I can definitely see why this book is controversial. 

[punkscowardschampions]

Jac & Savannah

Jac: Cannot stop thinking about that one dress in that last boutique we checked out though... Jac: so lowkey mad at Isabelle for having to go home to walk her dog 🙄😩 Savannah: UGH I know! Don't get me started yet again on how her mum is literally never there to do anything for it & they don't even have a garden Savannah: I'll go back & get it for you, she can't stop me Savannah: I have less than zero reasons to hurry home Jac: Lowkey like, who do I call again? 😬 Jac: the poor thing, as if breathing wasn't issue enough without having to contend with getting overweight and her mum's vape habit Jac: You're so pure 🥺🥺 Jac: and I'm personally not over seeing you in that one shade of pink like ??? Jac: 👼🏾 walking Savannah: ^^^  the levels of cruelty make my heart hurt, honestly 😢 but I won't get to Heaven until I convince them to see the error of their ways & that is a battle I simply do not have the energy for today Savannah: you could literally wear that AWFUL dress that Isabelle was considering- thank god we talked her out of that much! 🙌🏾- & still look like an actual goddess Jac: Seriously, I don't know how they can live with themselves Jac: that would be their business, because I'm not as caring as you, or even close, but the fact it hurts you means it's mine too 😤 Jac: actually though, would have had to pretend to not know her, oh my God Jac: not to mention how short it was, as well as just hideous...like this is a SCHOOL event, girl, I... 🤦 Jac: it does mean we're scheduled to help her keep looking though Jac: which is becoming a trial, like I'm so sorry to say but wow Savannah: I likewise don't have the necessary reserves to try and teach her the difference between positive & negative attention Savannah: Can Amelia not help her look? I highly doubt her wardrobe is fully stocked with suitable school event dresses so surely she still needs to keep looking too? Jac: That's a whole conversation her mother should be having with her but also needs Jac: sad, really Jac: Poor, poor Is Jac: Meels is a committed outfit repeater, no matter the occasion Savannah: She can't wear jeans to this though Jac: 🙄 I've also tried on that subject Jac: it'll just become a whole THING Jac: us trying to sort both of them out and getting nowhere with our own looks Savannah: 😔 I'm exhausted by their indecision, it's taking the excitement out of it Savannah: I understand that they can't and don't feel themselves in just anything, but it's getting ridiculous Jac: ^^ Totally agree Jac: although us being on the same page is not anything like a surprise these days Jac: it's so unfair, really Jac: they're not even THAT bothered about the whole thing Jac: we've put effort in before this whole step even Savannah: I knew you'd understand, despite feeling like I'm the one who is being totally unfair by saying anything, the rational part of my mind which isn't on the verge of tears as a result of Is' complaints or Amelia's apathy is like no, Savannah, you're not wrong Savannah: it does matter to us & it's allowed to be viewed as important Savannah: not to mention enjoyable, god forbid Jac: You NEVER need to doubt yourself Jac: you're a complete empath, honestly, to your own detriment Jac: but that isn't your fault and people should try to give even a fraction of what you give them back Jac: so, for your wellbeing, I'm calling a time-out on this and them Jac: you've got to focus on you for once ❤ Savannah: I can't tell you how wholeheartedly I wish I was the person you think I am, Ty & I had a HUGE fight earlier & I've been plagued by self doubt ever since Jac: Oh no, okay, what was said? Savannah: He seemed to think that we had plans today, which is not a conversation I remember us having, so of course I wasn't going to cancel on you all Savannah: & that makes me the most thoughtless girlfriend he's ever had Savannah: I'm so sorry the girl you dated for like two weeks dropped everything without a second thought if you even hinted that you wanted her too because she didn't have a life Savannah: they broke up for that exact reason Jac: He's totally got the wrong day Jac: you don't double-book Jac: not dragging him, he's clearly just so busy with his own stuff too but yeah, no way Jac: he'll work it out and owe you a great apology Savannah: it was beyond upsetting, I swear I need a mental health break from everyone but you Jac: I get it Jac: no boy drama but my family are driving me INSANE right now Jac: I vote we go test 💅 colours and get a hand massage to boot Savannah: Can we? I don't want to be responsible for causing you more family drama Jac: Ugh, no, they're fine Jac: and you're more important than any of this drama, Is and Amelia's too Savannah: ^^ I don't care how hard Ty is sulking, I'm not going to leave you to cope with them on your own Savannah: you needed my help first Jac: Like, he can't put that on you Savannah: he's never spoken to me that way before & I have no idea where it came from Jac: Is he under a lot of pressure right now, on the team? Jac: or at home, school Jac: either way, the issue is not with you, and he probably knows that already Savannah: No, everything's going really well Jac: 🤔 Savannah: It's me, it has to be Jac: You've not done what he's saying you have Jac: accusing would be too strong a word but Jac: we'll work it out but I'm totally clueless right now Savannah: me too 😢 Jac: Lowkey mad at him now Savannah: I shouldn't have even said anything, I told myself that I wasn't going to Savannah: but then Isabelle & Amelia started sulking too & it brought it all back Jac: No, I want to be there for you Jac: and make you feel better Jac: which I definitely will Jac: but I just can't explain away why he's being like this 🥺😢 Jac: and I wish I could Savannah: You'll definitely make me cry, you're the best Savannah: he was acting as though I don't make time for him, which is not true, but if it were, the reason would be that nobody deserves as much of it as you Jac: making you cry doesn't sound like something the best would do Jac: you've got to have your own lives, own friends Jac: you do NOT wanna be THAT couple Savannah: if you don't want my tears because I couldn't be happier to have found the love of my life, I'll keep them in, since they are yours, it's totally fine Savannah: yes, exactly & he knows that, he has more friends than extra-curriculars & he has as many of those as I do Savannah: it doesn't make any sense Jac: I will treasure them Jac: and make sure they never, ever spill for anything less than the happiest of moments, because that is all you deserve Jac: I could talk to him...totally on the low and in the most well-intentioned way Jac: maybe it's something he doesn't want to burden you with? but he has accidentally burdened you with this doubt and worry instead Savannah: 🥰🤗 Savannah: you'd do that? Jac: Of course! Jac: You're my soul sister, so I hope Ty at least considers me a friend too at this point Jac: he's going to have to get used to having me around 😅 Savannah: if he doesn't we have a bigger problem than I thought because I love you so much Savannah: & I will run away with you if anyone ever tries to make me choose 😄 Jac: He's smart, he's not gonna do that Jac: though honestly, I could do with the break right now, would not say no Savannah: maybe we could have one, it's essentially my right as a child of a broken home to play my parents off against each other Savannah: & if my dad is foolish enough to believe he can buy back any of my love or respect after what he's done, why should I feel bad for treating him like one Savannah: I refuse to, I do need to focus on myself Jac: In terms of making-up-to-do, he's in the lead no question, or so far behind everyone else, looking at it that way Jac: I think it would be the most appropriate way to end transition year Jac: God knows if my parents would go for it 🙄 Savannah: I'll talk to them, I've never lost a debate so far & I couldn't be any more well intentioned, my heart is in the exact right place Jac: 👼🏾🥰 Jac: next year is when everything gets REAL Jac: we need the holiday we are NOT going to get until...I don't even want to think about the next time we'll be able to take a real break after this Savannah: ^^^ Savannah: whatever I have to do to make it happen & be perfect, so be it Jac: the salon is the EXACT right place to plan all this Jac: all the inane questions they ask about your holidays will actually be useful for once 🤭 Savannah: 😄 Jac: This is like, just a you and me thing, right? Savannah: of course Jac: Okay because helping Isabelle pick bikinis is the opposite of fun 😂 Savannah: oh my god, I don't even want to imagine Jac: if the dress breakdowns aren't bad enough Jac: we'd be so stressed we'd be put on the no-fly list, honestly Savannah: Amelia would probably throw my body into the sea, weighted down by rocks or Isabelle's dog, I swear she hates me Jac: How could anyone hate you? Jac: and she's friends with me, so her taste can't be THAT off Savannah: we won't mention that she's also friends with Is Savannah: any excuse to talk about how perfect you are instead Jac: I seriously think if we wouldn't, who would 😶 Jac: you'll make me 😳 Savannah: OH! The tans we'll both get Savannah: you'll be sightseeing & I'll just be staring at you in disbelief because you somehow got even more beautiful Jac: Oh please Jac: you're so stunning they'd be running to write new laws just to make it illegal how good you look Savannah: stop, nobody can see me 😳 but I still feel it Savannah: it should be illegal how you make me feel Jac: sorry, but a world where you don't know and aren't told how perfect you are is just not one I wanna live in 💁 Savannah: I don't deserve you, all I've done today is mope & wish your friends away so that I can have you all to myself Jac: We deserve each other Jac: if I didn't have you, who would I be able to get excited about this with? Jac: I'd be going on my own, most likely Savannah: okay, you're right Jac: I just get sad thinking about all the time we weren't friends and didn't know each other properly before Savannah: No, don't be sad, baby, we trust in the universe because it was meant to be now not then Savannah: lord knows I needed my glow up before I could be around you Savannah: 👼🏻✨🌞💛 Jac: That's true Jac: I'm more thankful that we have NOW and the promise of forever than I could ever be sad Jac: definitely not ignoring how blessed I am Jac: also blessed that my hair grew back in and I lost the puppy fat look 😬🤦 Savannah: I stand by what I said when I first saw the pictures Savannah: you were ADORABLE Jac: you're too sweet but I'm not gonna complain about it 🥰 Savannah: It's true & you know that because I would never jeopardise our connection Savannah: you're the only person I can talk to with total honesty, it's so important to me Jac: I only feel like myself with you Jac: no one else gets it all Savannah: I feel like a better person when I'm with you Savannah: but with none of the pressure that my parents put on me not to fail or the fear I have of letting Ty down Jac: You're the best person Jac: if all I do is give you the confidence to believe that, then that's totally worth it Savannah: You're going to achieve everything you want Jac: I can't wait to be Dr Taylor to your Dr Moore Savannah: 😊 Savannah: I'll be there to make sure every second of your life is worth it until then & of course after Jac: Naturally ❤ Jac: have you seen the groupchat? Savannah: please don't judge me for not having opened it Jac: I couldn't even when I'm just sat here like 🤨😑 Jac: Is has sent a million links and they seem to be getting worse every one I open ??? Savannah: Well I can't face that until later when I'm 🛀🏾🥂 Savannah: not that I'll be staying at Ty's unless he apologises to me Jac: You can always stay with me Savannah: I don't think any of your family would be fine about the always, but I wish I could Jac: They'll deal, I have to put up with all of them so 💁 Jac: I'm trying to persuade them to move the sofa bed from the hangout area to the music room, make it more of a spare room too, more privacy Jac: it's not fair that Jesse has a whole room with all his crap in, there's plenty of space in said hangout room for him Savannah: 😄 I'm sure we could win that debate too, I definitely have as much passion about the subject as you if it means I don't have to go home Savannah: it's impossible to 🛀🏾🥂 when my mum is mid-breakdown in her en-suite Jac: 😬😥 Jac: she needs to convert the passion she had for couples therapy for solo therapy now Savannah: Honestly! It's a full time job making sure she's adequately but not over medicated & if I'm worrying about it I know Sienna is Savannah: I have to unlock the door to let her in & before I know it I'm re-doing her braids or checking her homework, all the while my bath water is going cold Jac: You're actually such a good sister, and daughter Jac: In awe of you Jac: I wish you didn't have to work as hard as you do, but it's really admirable Savannah: like, so sorry that you had to go home to walk your dog, Isabelle 🙄 it's no wonder she doesn't understand me Jac: She doesn't even try Jac: she lives on planet Is where the most important thing is which bland boy she's going to get off with next Jac: I can't claim so many of your experiences and struggles but I respect the hell out of you, and try to make your life easier where and when I can Savannah: oh my god, the boy from the other night! I can't Jac: 🤢 Jac: her taste! Jac: worrying Jac: ugly dresses are the least of her problems Jac: I feel like I can't leave her alone sometimes, honestly Savannah: if this thing with Ty is leading to a break up I refuse to date any of the boys in our school Savannah: that would be another full time job working out which of them have & haven't done what with her & when Jac: tell me about it 🙄 Jac: they're all so lacklustre Savannah: ^^^ Savannah: we know our worth & we're simply too good for any of them unless they have a serious emotional glow up of their own Jac: Mhmm Jac: Ty is never gonna break up with you though Savannah: I don't know anymore, I never thought he would raise his voice to me Jac: That's pretty out of order Jac: he knows about your dad, what he's like Savannah: & it's really out of character too Jac: Yeah, totally Jac: men and anger issues are a whole can of worms Jac: there's something he isn't dealing with, for sure Savannah: or something he's not telling me Savannah: I just hope it's not a someone Jac: who could even come close to you? Jac: he's not that cliche of having the perfect girl and risking it on some skank Savannah: Logically I know that but I'm so scared Jac: Babe 🥺 Jac: you NEED to put you first, even just for the length of this nail appointment Jac: you don't need this extra stress from him Jac: I've started the convo, you can read it all once we get to the meat of it Savannah: I just want to be excited about 💅🏾 & all the iconic outfits we saw Savannah: it's SO unfair Jac: I hate this Jac: I wish I could take you away right now Savannah: you do, I'd be even more a wreck if you weren't the amazingly intuitive person you are, earlier without even having to be told I was upset you made me feel better over and over again Savannah: and right now you know what I need, way before I can put it into words or coherent thoughts Jac: we trust the connection too 💫💐💞 Savannah: I love you Savannah: I'm not devoting time & space to anyone else today, from this point on Jac: and we're definitely getting lunch after, my treat Savannah: no, mine Savannah: you've already been taking such good care of me Jac: Okay, but we will be going [place] and I will be getting you your favourite dessert Jac: no arguments 😘 Savannah: Okay, I won't fight you on it Jac: there are so many more important, and fun, decisions for us to make Savannah: ^^^!! Savannah: is Is still trying to force you to make outfit decisions for her though? Jac: I've said we've got more pressing matters right now Jac: I've made it sound like a me issue though, don't worry Jac: they'll have to cope without us for a while Savannah: Thank you, I can't cope with their relationship advice at the best of times Jac: Yeah, there's less than zero chance they'd have anything useful to say so Jac: they don't need to know Savannah: We won't tell them about the holiday plans either, that way you'll have a nice secret to keep as well as my stupid boyfriend drama Jac: to secrets 🥂 Savannah: 🥂 Savannah: Are you still thinking about that dress or have I ruined everything? Jac: You could never ruin anything with me Jac: so yes Jac: but I'm also remembering that other shop we didn't even get a chance to check out Savannah: their window display is INCREDIBLE ✨ Savannah: we should go Jac: I KNOW Jac: I've been window shopping every time I go past Jac: and to be fair, I think it's a bit out of Isabelle's price range, so it actually wouldn't be nice to take her there Savannah: the universe has spoken, I'm taking you there, our secret Jac: 🥰 Jac: I swear I only have fun when I'm with you Savannah: you're so much fun that nobody considers you might not be having any, but I promise I'll always think about you & what you need Jac: You'll make me cry now Savannah: Baby, no 🥺 if you start you'll set me off again Savannah: I'm a really ugly crier & you look like an 👼🏻 Jac: Okay, okay, no crying Jac: we'll stay flawless Savannah: that's harder work for me than it could ever be for you, but I'll do my best Jac: You're the most perfect person I've ever known Jac: inside and out Savannah: I feel that way about you, I'm not just saying it like, oh sure, me too Savannah: you're so perfect I should hate you Jac: Yeah, I know Jac: sorta been there done that Jac: not that I ever hated you really Savannah: I couldn't Jac: No, in the way how perfect you are SHOULD be impossible, that's how hating you felt Savannah: that's it exactly Savannah: & I just wanted you to notice me, I'd wait all day sometimes, getting more extra about everything Jac: It was like, I should've been mad at you but I could only ever be impressed Savannah: Well, I can't lie, I'm glad because I've never worked that hard for anyone before Savannah: it'd be super awkward if I failed Jac: 😅 Jac: I'm flattered Jac: how many boys wish, like Savannah: of course, but boys are easy Jac: duh, if you need to try then you've got bigger problems Savannah: I don't understand what Amelia's is, a smile & a hair flip & she could be dating anyone in our year Jac: Yeah, me either Jac: maybe she's had the same 💭 about Isabelle's seconds Savannah: 😄 Savannah: at this point I'm seriously expecting her to come out as asexual Jac: 🤔 maybe you're onto something Savannah: I do have good instincts for these things Jac: True Savannah: one of Sienna's friends is & nobody's been anything but really supportive about it Savannah: her year group are so sweet though Savannah: I was not like that a year ago Jac: Awh Jac: yeah, she knows we'd all support her Jac: and no one is going to say anything to her Jac: no one with half a brain cell anyway Savannah: & even if things were said it'd be no worse than what they say about her now Jac: Facts Jac: I don't know if she 1. genuinely doesn't hear 2. pretends not to or 3. seriously doesn't care Savannah: & you know her better than anyone so if you aren't sure she probably isn't either Jac: 😕 Jac: if she gave any indication, I'd do everything to help her Savannah: I know you would Savannah: I'm honestly so jealous of how close you two are & have been for like, ever Jac: but we're just as close now Savannah: I can't help but envy all the shared history you have though, all the pictures & stories that I'm obviously left out of Savannah: I shouldn't think like that, I know Savannah: but sometimes it does get to me, even though I try & be a better person than that Jac: We're going to make so many memories together though Jac: from now 'til forever Savannah: of course we are Savannah: it's no wonder he also accused me of being over sensitive, that one is very clearly true Jac: people just say that when they don't want to make allowances for other people's inconvenient feelings Jac: you can feel that, and I feel it too Jac: I wish you had been there Savannah: it just feels like she brings up all these past anecdotes as often as she does to try & leave me out Savannah: but maybe she doesn't realise how much it hurts me Jac: I'm sure she doesn't, but I'll make extra effort to clock it and get her to chill now Jac: we don't need to dwell on the past, especially at our age 🙄 Savannah: I don't want to cause friction, I can totally understand her wanting to reminisce, if we'd known each other then, I'd be the same Savannah: I talk & think about you literally all the time as it is Jac: Not even Jac: I don't want you feeling left out, or anyone Savannah: you would never Jac: you're so important to me Savannah: you've always let me know that Jac: 🥰 Savannah: I don't know how I would cope with anything that's going on in my life right now without you Savannah: I didn't even realise how badly I needed someone to talk to Jac: You look after everyone, you need someone to look after you Savannah: I can't rely on anyone to do that though Jac: me 🙋 Savannah: you can't leave me ever, I swear I'll go crazier than my mother Jac: I never will Jac: I promise Savannah: okay, I'm yours to look after then Jac: I can cope with that 😄 Savannah: you've definitely handled me at my worst, I haven't forgotten my bathroom breakdown, trust me Savannah: the embarrassment will last forever Jac: it so easily could have been me Jac: and maybe I wouldn't have had the courage to ever reach out if not, frame it like that Savannah: No, I hate that Jac: Okay, but no embarrassment either Jac: because you're the strongest person I know, and nothing I've learnt about you has changed that opinion Savannah: Well, I think you're the bravest & I fully believe you'll always find the courage to do whatever you want Jac: 🤞 Jac: I've got a lot of things I want and intend to do Savannah: 👏🏾 Yes girl! Savannah: I can't wait for transition year to be over Jac: Ugh, I know Jac: on the one hand, LOVE the extra opportunities and learning experiences they simply do not bother with the rest of the time Jac: but the other half is having to do lessons I have NO intention of carrying on with, which is just, pointless Savannah: ^^^^^^^^^ Savannah: my auntie was complaining at me as if it was OPTIONAL & I CHOSE it, excuse me Jac: Ha! 🙄 Jac: we all know it's meant to be in theory Jac: but if you don't go to a school with a high teacher to child ratio, with the budget and time to care about tailoring the learning experience to each child...then you're gonna have to do it with the rest, like it or lump it Savannah: She's a product of the American school system, there is zero place for her criticism Jac: and I- 😶 Jac: even our worst school would be preferable I'm sorry 😂 Savannah: Right?! Jac: Compared to the English and American systems, except maybe the super-elite English ones, I feel like we're still going to be at an advantage when we go to Uni Savannah: Agreed Savannah: even this year we've totally made the most of so far Jac: You've got to Jac: or you'll end up with a mediocre life and what is the point in even living Savannah: Ugh, exactly Savannah: I can already tell who is going to end up living like that Jac: I know right Jac: like, sorry to break it to you, but they're called FORMATIVE years for a reason Savannah: mhmmmm Jac: you can still have fun without ruining your life and future Jac: you just have to work hard too and some people are simply too lazy 💁 Savannah: ^^ we manage to have it all Savannah: I'm not sorry if they don't want it enough to secure it for themselves Jac: Exactly Jac: can't be sorry for you if you chose to act that way Jac: maybe some of them will turn it around years down the line but it'll be so much harder than if they'd put the work in when they were meant to Savannah: It breaks my heart that everybody doesn't have you to guide & hype them Jac: Only you deserve me though, that's the truth of it Savannah: I'm willing to work at that for the rest of my life too so Jac: 🥺 Jac: Ugh, I just love you Jac: you've really solidified all my life choices, if that makes sense Jac: like I know now everything I want is exactly what I need too Savannah: It makes perfect sense & I feel it too Jac: Thank God you do Savannah: My family are always pushing me to go to Trinity, they don't understand at all Jac: like, yeah, it's a good Uni, but we've done Dublin Jac: it's also the point of Uni to expand your horizons, put roots down somewhere else Jac: your hometown and Uni town are NOT meant to be the same Savannah: ^^ thank you Savannah: Sienna is the only one whose opinion is valid because I will be leaving her here alone for a year before she can go wherever she decides to & she'll actually miss me Savannah: my parents just want to control me Jac: Right, you aren't being selfish about it Jac: it's because you're too useful to them, like you said, looking after Sienna and your mum Jac: but those are actually both jobs your dad took on when he got married and made a family so Jac: he still has to deal with them Savannah: He gets to literally walk out but god forbid I take the next step in my life Jac: Right, he has to realize you are not a surrogate carer Jac: and that sorting those things out will always be his responsibility Savannah: He takes no responsibility for abandoning us never mind the fact that he spent years emotionally destroying my mum & then walking out when he didn't like who she became Jac: He's going to have to face his blame one day Jac: if nothing else, he does love you and Sienna, he wouldn't let anything really bad happen to you two Savannah: I don't feel loved, I feel like he decided none of us were good enough Savannah: maybe I'm too much like her for him to handle too Jac: I hate that he's made you feel like that Jac: but if anything, that shows failure on his part, not yours Jac: you're brilliant and loving and you're still there, even though it's so much for you to handle Jac: you don't need him, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be held accountable right now, and that it's shit that he isn't stepping up Savannah: I hate him & I can't stand that he's made me carry hate in my heart when that isn't who I want to be Jac: Oh, Sav Jac: you wouldn't hold negative feelings towards him if he wasn't giving you that energy first Jac: you're never a doormat, again, it shows you're strong Savannah: Don't let me be with Ty, okay? Jac: Promise Savannah: Throw my phone into the 🛀🏾 if you have to, I'll forgive you Jac: 😅 I've got it in writing Savannah: 😄 Jac: would never drop it in 🥂 Jac: such a waste Savannah: Lord no, I need the full 🍾 Jac: 🙌 I can get behind that Jac: it's been a DAY Savannah: it had it's genuine 🙌🏾 moments nevertheless, because of & featuring you Savannah: I've looked at the pictures so many times, I CANNOT believe you really look like that Jac: 😳 says you Savannah: yes & I'm going to keep saying it until it sinks in for both of us that you're the most beautiful person that has ever existed because I'm hoping that if it does for me, at least, whatever dress you choose won't take my breath away as soon as I see you in it Savannah: otherwise you'll be trying to twirl but also having to catch me as I legitimately faint Jac: you'll have to not kill me before then or I won't be any use to anyone Jac: just a blushy mess on the floor Savannah: that isn't fair, on the one hand, you can't die, I need you, but on the other that sounds ADORABLE Jac: it's unfair how much of an 👼🏾 you are to me but I don't wanna share so Savannah: pink is one of my favourite colours, you know this & you wear it so well 🌺😳🌷 Jac: I'll wear it for you Jac: even if I don't go for that dress Jac: I wonder if we can get corsages or is that too extra 🤔 Savannah: I'll get that dress if it makes you happy, I'll wear anything you want me to, including a corsage Savannah: there is no such thing as too extra when you're talking about 🌷 🌹 🌺 🌸 🌼 🌻 Jac: my sentiments exactly 😄😄 Jac: I don't think Amelia will wear one Jac: but we can get them Jac: we can get our birth flowers and favourites and it'll be so cute Savannah: It should be an us thing, the holiday is so far away Jac: ^^ and it's more our vibe Jac: doesn't go with a short dress or jeans, really Savannah: 😄 Jac: I've got some books I need to return to the library, do you wanna meet at that little coffee place by there? Savannah: how many books? If you need help carrying them all I'll meet you at the library Jac: love the romcom fantasy 😅 Jac: you know me, there's a few... 😬 Savannah: 😊 I'll be right there, baby Savannah: no more struggles today Jac: ❤❤✨ Savannah: 🥰

[seyaryminamoto]

Which of Gladiator's villains/antagonists could be capable of a redemption arc after part 3's final, and which would be incapable or redemption. Redemption is a weird concept since its basically just surrendering to the views and morality of others by choice and rejecting your own prior outlook, so its all subjective. Also, this question assumes all antagonists survive part 3 for the sake of the hypothetical, since I'm starting to suspect some of them will bite it in the final cough-Ozai-cough.

... See this question is difficult to answer for reasons that shall become obvious as the story progresses (... certain people on this list won’t bite it at the end of part 3 but much sooner, oops :’DDD). But,as we are where we are now, I guess I’ll answer with all our most villainous characters up to date:

Ozai: strangely, Ozai is not incapable of redemption, not completely. I just have to break him bad enough that he ends up questioning himself and the world around him and just about everything that ever happened to him (?) So it’s difficult, but not impossible. He’s a terrible person for sure, but the show itself tried (admittedly, in a half-assed way) to present that he wasn’t born this way. There’s some things that could lead Ozai to ponder if his path in life isn’t quite what he had always believed it was. Now, full-blown redemption as in “Ozai becomes a cutie-patootie who wouldn’t hurt a fly?” Hell no. But a certain degree of change and evolution... that’s not out of his grasp.

Zhao: it’s actually funny but we’re even witnessing his “redemption”, in the way you defined it even, throughout all of Part 2. He’s not being redeemed in the classic concept of going from villain to hero, but the moment he decides that maybe Sokka isn’t complete trash just because he’s Water Tribe, he’s already rejecting something that was fundamental in his way of thinking up until Part 2 begins. On his first encounter with Sokka in Part 1 he’s outright AFFRONTED that this guy would even SPEAK to him... and nowadays he sits beside Sokka on the floor of an airship, trying to help him come to terms with his internal darkness so he’ll be able to use it more effectively to protect Azula. Like... okay, I didn’t ALWAYS plan to write Zhao this way, but we’ve definitely seen him evolve over the chapters he’s been involved in the story xD is he a totally innocent guy? Once again, hell no, and he has nasty plans in mind, especially after Hahn’s revelation about the Spirit Oasis. But is he still as bad as Azula always believed he was? Actually... no. The real question is... will Zhao continue to change his views? Or will he actually take a wholly different path once Part 3 comes around...? :’D

Seethus: eh. He’s kind of a weapon more than a human being, to be honest. You can’t redeem Seethus any more than you can redeem a gun: the guy is completely attached to Ozai and does ANYTHING Ozai wants of him. He practically makes no decisions of his own, everything he does is for Ozai. He’s the most loyal character in the story in the most fucked up way possible: Ozai’s commands are all he cares about. He doesn’t take pleasure in fulfilling his commands, he doesn’t take pleasure in anything at all, he’s just there to be Ozai’s secret weapon. So, if Ozai decides to change and stop using Seethus for wicked schemes... that’s still not Seethus making the decision on his own. He takes no sides, he just obeys. Therefore... I don’t think Seethus is capable of redemption, not as you described it, nor with a simplistic change of heart, because that implies him having a set of beliefs beyond following Ozai blindly and he absolutely doesn’t have them.

Iroh: ... yikes to the max. Despite the above ones aren’t exactly easy characters to discuss redemption with, Iroh is by far the more complicated of the bunch so far, even if he feels less dangerous than the others. Gladiator’s Iroh hasn’t done his worst yet... and some people already have guessed what that will be. I can say for certain that he will come to regret his actions, many of them, and he’ll undergo a terrible “holy shit what have I done” process... but that he regrets his actions doesn’t mean he’ll be forgiven by the victims of his ploys. He won’t really go through a full-blown redemption in terms of changing his mind/goals/beliefs... he’ll just be sorry that he was shortsighted, I suppose, and he’ll regret that he clung to those things so tightly that he caused terrible harm to those around him. But will he change his views and goals completely? Eh... not really. And it’s not like his goals are completely terrible, he does want to end Ozai’s tyranny and that’s not an unworthy goal... the problem is the extremes Iroh is willing to go to in order to succeed at that. As for his views, he’ll certainly change them a couple of times in the upcoming arcs, but in the end he’ll still stand by what he has believed ever since he came back from his Spirit World journeys and shenanigans, no matter if such beliefs aren’t quite as spot-on as he has convinced himself of...

Rhone: Frankly, of all characters in the list so far, Rhone is the first one who is a classic villain of the “I do awful things because I want to” type, to the point where I can safely say that his biggest “redeeming moment” is already behind us (the Fire Lord’s Shadow arc). If anything, he’s well on his way towards cementing his fatalistic, nihilistic and Fire Nation-despising ways in the coming arcs, and it doesn’t really matter what Sokka does, says or tries with this guy, Rhone won’t change his ways. There’s a sort-of deep reason why he’s doing everything he’s doing... but this guy is simply not okay. His mind is a mess, his heart is pretty much dead, and he doesn’t really know how to care about people anymore... and doesn’t care to learn again either. Soooo... not redeemable. Nope.

Jeong Jeong: I guess most villainous characters are Fire Nation, no matter which side of the war they’re on :’D Jeong Jeong is worse than Iroh though, this guy will only be willing to open his mind to other possibilities A TEENY TINY WEENY BIT, but largely he’s unrepenting and unwilling to change his current course. My depiction of Jeong Jeong is definitely painting him in a terrible light, there’s no lie there, but this guy is just not going to adequate himself to anyone else’s ideals or views. He’s stuck on his current mindset most willingly and deliberately, and he’ll do whatever it takes/whatever he wants to defeat Ozai’s regime once he has enough resources to make a proper move again. Don’t hold your breath over him changing considerably because... yeah. Not happening.

General Shaofeng: :’DDDDD this one goes right up there with Rhone. Absolutely not qualified for redemption of any sort. Shaofeng is one of the worst people in this story, morally speaking -- I have no idea if anyone has guessed why just yet, or what he’s up to, or why he’s so twitchy over Azula, but I think the next chapter will shed enough light on who he really is. So... no redemption for him, no chance at all for that with someone like him.

Renkai: I almost feel bad about listing him here despite he’s still such a weird, complicated and sketchy spy in the midst of Azula’s old guard... but Renkai is 100% on his way to a strange redemption. Yes, strange because he hasn’t done anything too dreadful yet... though yeah, okay, he did try to reveal his suspicions about Azula and Sokka to Shaofeng and got shut down immediately x’D but Renkai has had a few moments of doubting his current course in life already, and some upcoming chapters will set in motion actions that will redefine Renkai’s role in the story for good... :’D

Aonu: so very eligible for redemptions, but in more of a “Here, have a Snickers” way rather than a “I WILL CHANGE MY MIND AND VIEWS COMPLETELY!” sense... Aonu isn’t necessarily BAD right now, let alone would I deem him as villainous, but Aonu is a complicated guy who doesn’t quite think too often about anyone’s problems other than his own. Once he comes out of his shell and starts seeing things more clearly, Aonu will prove to be a much more decent guy than anyone would expect of him. Therefore, not exactly redemption but he’ll still evolve in a good way.

Combustion Man: ... nope. I did get a few suggestions on how to make him a more compelling character but frankly I don’t think I particularly need him to be more compelling? Much like ATLA never cared to go in-depth with Ozai, I don’t really care to do it too much with Busty over here. Soooo... no redemption. He’s a bit like Seethus, a living weapon, but this guy actually thrives in blowing things up and finishing his missions for violence’s own sake... so yeah, he’s not going to change that mindset. Not eligible.

Chan: ... hahahahahahahahaha WHY WOULD CHAN BE ON THIS LIST WHEN HE HASN’T DONE ANYTHING SINCE CHAPTER 12 AHAHAHAHA......Well, true, but that wasn’t the last we’ll see of him :’D and I’m honestly just adding him here to say... this guy is unexpectedly eligible for redemption, what’d you know? :’DDDDD (and I mean the son, not the father, the father is NOT eligible, he’s doomed for good (?))

... So, that’s that :’D I don’t know if maybe I’ll come up with some new villainous character in the future, though I think it’s not very likely... this is a relatively comprehensive list as it is, other characters that come to mind are probably too mysterious still for anyone to say for sure that they’re heroes or villains, but if anyone has any other character they’d like to ask about, feel free to do it by reblogging or replying to this post! :)

[bleedingsandshq]

[ SEAN TEALE, MALE, HE/HIM, 31 ] Whenever I hear STARBOY by THE WEEKND it always makes me think of JACE TORRES. They have been so  ADEPT & CHARMING, but occasionally they have gotten a little bit CALCULATING & HEDONISTIC through the years. They currently work as a HOMICIDE DETECTIVE, a strangely fitting job for someone with loyalty to LAW ENFORCEMENT. A SCUFFED ZIPPO LIGHTER IN A BEATEN-UP BOX OF MARLBOROS CONTAINING ONLY ONE CIGARETTE, BLACK SHIRTS WITH THE SLEEVES ROLLED UP TO THE ELBOWS AND A WORN FAMILY PHOTO STUFFED INSIDE A LEATHER WALLET make them easy to spot on the strip. 

CONNECTIONS.

His Partner: Every homicide detective has a partner. Whether or not they actually get along is another matter altogether. Perhaps there is some tension between Jace and his partner or maybe the two work extremely well together. Either way, these two were flung together the instant Jace stepped foot into the precinct and have been working alongside each other for the last three years. Regardless of how they view one another, there is a certain level of respect held between them. Given Jace’s strained relationship with his lifelong best friend, it goes without saying that he has some trust issues. While he understands the importance of trusting his partner, it remains somewhat a struggle for Jace to put his personal feelings aside and to allow himself to form a deep bond with another person, even if that person is his partner.

His Lifelong Friend: These two were joined together at the hip for the vast majority of their lives. Having practically grown up together, Jace and Callum ( name subject to change if wanted ) shared a brotherly connection and were best friends right into their adult lives. Once Jace seemingly disappeared, Callum had naturally mourned the loss of his best friend. It was through this grief that Callum found himself growing closer to Jace’s fiancée until the two eventually wound up together. Nowadays, considering the betrayal that Jace feels toward his once closest friend, the pair are no longer on good terms. Why or how Callum wound up in Las Vegas would be entirely open and up for discussion but I feel that having this kind of connection for Jace would truly develop his character and give more insight into his mindset and relationships.

His Ex-Fiancée: She and Jace met while he was part of the RAF. They dated for a few years until they became engaged. Jace truly thought that she was the one and thought he would spend the rest of his life with her. I imagine that she would have felt exactly the same but when she assumed she’d lost him forever, she found comfort in being around his best friend. Especially considering how Callum and Jace were extremely similar and shared such a close bond. Eventually, she wound up in a relationship with Callum and upon discovering that Jace was alive and well, I imagine she might have felt guilty. Whether or not she and Callum are still together would be up to the respective muns. Again, why and how she would wind up in Las Vegas would be entirely open to whoever would pick this connection up.

A Gang Member: This connection is still in the works but I feel like it could potentially be an interesting plot and fun to play out if somehow Jace wound up entangled with one of the gangs. Maybe it would be under a blackmail circumstance that ropes Jace into working for one of the gang’s members. Or maybe Jace decides to work undercover or has previously worked undercover in one of the gangs. This connection is open to any gang members and is entirely open for discussion.

BACKGROUND.

Jace Torres grew up in London an only child with middle-class parents who loved him beyond belief. His father was a beat cop, his mother was a care assistant. For the most part, Jace’s childhood was a moderately pleasant one even despite his families lack of wealth. They got by the best they could and with whatever means they could manage to amass.

Whenever Jace’s parents were working late, their neighbours would kindly look after the boy until he was able to return home. This was how Jace befriended a boy by the name of Callum. The two were inseparable, practically growing up together. They became brothers, taking each step in their lives together from childhood into adulthood.

Once the pair had graduated high school, they both set off to join the Royal Air Force together. At first, everything was going fine, even though Jace’s father had hopes of his only son following in his footsteps. Both Jace and Callum made names for themselves as the years passed by. They were respected and liked by their commanders and their comrades.

A few years later and Jace met the woman he later proposed to. The two were very much in love and Jace wholeheartedly believed he would spend the rest of his life with her. It had only been a few months into their engagement when Jace had gone missing, presumably dead.

While on a mission, his aircraft had fallen off the radar, his squadron believing he had possibly been shot down. Naturally, the worst possible outcome was assumed and after a failed search and rescue mission, Jace was announced officially missing.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that news surfaced of Jace’s status. Having been rescued and hospitalised for minor injuries he had sustained, it was during this time that Jace realised that his lifelong friend and his fiancée had formed a relationship. Claiming that their belief that he had died had brought them together, their sudden romantic connection felt like the ultimate betrayal to Jace.

Once he was discharged from hospital, Jace moved back to live with his retired father. In the few weeks that he was gone, Jace’s mother had passed away leaving him riddled with guilt over not being there to say goodbye.

Following months of trying to get a handle on his life, Jace eventually decided to honour his father by becoming a police officer. Working as a cop for a few years, it wasn’t until his father succumbed to an illness that Jace decided it was time for him to truly move on.

Taking a job in New York where he served as a cop for the NYPD, Jace spent the following few years working himself to the bone to try and bring justice to the streets of the city. After a while, he found himself promoted within the ranks and becoming a homicide detective.

After a couple of years, Jace was offered a promotion that would take him to Las Vegas, continuing his work as a detective. Having moved to ‘Sin City’ three years ago, Jace was thirty when he arrived in Paradise and has never once looked back. While he is marginally aware of the wickedness and inequity that crawls through the streets, Jace is determined to continue bringing justice to those who fall victim to the immoral acts of Las Vegas’ finest criminals.

JACE IS CURRENTLY CLOSED & WRITTEN BY CHRISSIE.

[sataniccapitalist]

APRIL 09, 2020

It's All Over but the Shouting

Wafers-

A few months ago, David Masciotra, a free-lance writer and author of Against Traffic, among other works, approached The American Conservative with a proposal for an article, which would be a review of my American Empire trilogy. He subsequently submitted the article, and never heard back. Since I'm neither a conservative nor a progressive, but only a writer interested in Reality, it's possible that TAC got spooked by David's essay. (To paraphrase T.S. Eliot, "Americans can't bear too much reality.") However, it's also possible that by that time the coronavirus was starting to make itself visible, and that TAC was thrown by that rather than anything ideological. I guess we can give them the benefit of the doubt. In any case, David and I agreed that I should just post his essay on my blog, and accept the fact that no American publication was likely to run it (for whatever reason). Hence, here it is.

It’s All Over but the Shouting: Morris Berman’s Work on American Decline

“Stick a fork in their ass, and turn them over. They’re done,” Lou Reed dryly announces on his 1989 song about the American Empire, “The Last Great American Whale.” The rock and roll poet’s grim diagnosis of a culture gone awry makes for a fine lyric. If Reed were to have expanded his morbid one-liner into a 1,000-page trilogy of books, full of assiduous research, brilliant anecdotes, and despite the sad subject matter, immensely enjoyable, and often amusing, prose, he would have something resembling the series of books on American decline from cultural critic, historian, novelist, and poet, Morris Berman.

Berman, while a visiting professor in the belly of the beast at the Catholic University in Washington, DC, began writing the first installment in the late 1990s,The Twilight of American Culture, after observing the coalescence of several pathologies that are now beyond dispute as inflicting pain on American life: staggering rates of inequality, governmental dysfunction, an ever-expanding militarism, the fracturing of communal and civic life, and the dominance of anti-intellectualism, visible in everything from an increasingly shallow pop culture to misspelled words on public signs. There was also an aura of threat in the air, of the kind predicted by Don DeLillo in his 1985 novel, White Noise. Like the thick presence of humidity on a summer afternoon, Americans couldn’t see that their neighbors were becoming selfish, and often cruel, but they could feel it.

Having studied the downfall of other empires, Berman saw the window for American reform closing. He warned that if America did not drastically transform its public policies, ideology, and working conception of citizenship, its troubles would only intensify and calcify, bringing a once-promising civilization past the point of no return. In the two books that followed—

Dark Ages America

and

Why America Failed

—Berman meticulously demonstrated that America’s myopic focus on profit, at the expense of everything else, its zest for war – at home and abroad – and its lack of self-awareness and insight had escalated, making recovery virtually impossible.

Simultaneous with the development of Berman’s argument, the United States suffered the worst attack on its soil on September 11, 2001, and responded by launching not one, but two disastrous wars. Its housing market and financial system crashed, liquidating much of middle class wealth, and it reacted with giving away boondoggles to the very parties of greed that caused the crisis. Then, in 2016, as the citizenry began to stratify in ways more violent and intractable, Donald Trump became President-Elect. Berman, whom the New York Times and other mainstream outlets dismissed as cynical, cranky, and “anti-American,” looks more and more sterling.The left and right argue about nearly everything, making extreme accusations about each other. Maybe one camp is right on other issues, and the other is correct on some, but the larger possibility to consider is, what if they are all wrong on the main issue?

As Berman put it during a recent email exchange that I had with him:

Conservatives and progressives alike are patriots; like Trump, they seek to save America, or make it great again. What they are ignoring is the rhythm and record of history. All civilizations rise and fall; there are no exceptions to this rule, and America is not going to escape its fate. The great Southern historian, C. Vann Woodward, first suggested the inevitable decline of the nation in 1953. Andrew Hacker stated it clearly in The End of the American Era, 1970. Between that year and today, there have been a host of books—my trilogy on the American empire included—that have pointed out that civilizations come and go, and that now is our time. Yet on both the right and left, there is no recognition of this bedrock reality. If you do recognize the larger picture, you can't possibly care about impeachment, for example, or who wins these silly Democratic debates. All of that is theater, not reality.

The reality is ascertainable from the daily deluge of grim headlines—lead poisoning in the water causing irreversible brain damage in children, the rise of the “working poor,” near-daily mass shootings, America spending hundreds of billions on weapons of war while ignoring its crumbling infrastructure. Pundits and politicians have a tendency to treat all of these signs of pathology and dysfunction as isolated, but an unobstructed historical vantage point, which Berman’s work provides, suggests that all of America’s problems—from high rates of functional illiteracy to political corruption—are trees growing out of the same rotten roots.

Berman’s project becomes more excavation than analysis, demonstrating an affinity for radicalism, in the original sense of the term, which is identifying and criticizing an issue’s origin, rather than obtusely obsessing over its consequences. America, from its inception, was dedicated to commercial conquest, and equated “the pursuit of happiness” with the acquisition of wealth and property. The third book in Berman’s trilogy, Why America Failed, relies on assiduous research and sharp analysis to prove the case over its 400 pages. Meanwhile, the consistent papering over the more accurate story he tells, with red, white and blue advertisements, robs even many of the country’s leading dissidents of a holistic perspective. In his deployment of cultural criticism, Berman shows how, although his politics tend slightly toward the left, he is most in mourning over America’s destruction of tradition and refusal to balance its desires for commercial dominance with small scale, communal concerns:

Dating back 400 years—the continent was filled with individuals whose idea of the good life was goods, i.e. money and property. There were dissenting voices, such as Capt. John Smith and the Puritan divines, but these were increasingly pushed aside. The title of Richard Bushman's book, and the book itself, are good summaries of the process: From Puritan to Yankee. America was effectively born bourgeois; it had no feudal period. And while feudalism had its obvious drawbacks, it also had some serious advantages: community, craftsmanship, ties of friendship, meaningful work, noblesse oblige, and spiritual purpose, among other things. The American experiment was based, from the first, on hustling, opportunism; this is what the "pursuit of happiness" really meant in the eighteenth century—go out and get yours (which the Founding Fathers certainly did). "Virtue" originally meant putting the needs of society above one's own personal interests. By the late seventeenth century, the meaning had been inverted: it now meant personal success in an opportunistic environment. Blaming the corporate elite has its limits, because what virtually all Americans want is to join the upper 1 percent. Thus American spirituality, such as it is, can be summarized in a single word: More. More, more, I want more. Our leaders reflect our values, which is how America's consummate hustler, Donald Trump, wound up in the White House. In that sense, we have a genuine democracy.

In his seminal essay, “Democratic Vistas,” Walt Whitman worried that “genuine belief” had left American life. In the mad race for money and status, Americans were forgetting or neglecting the sociopolitical principles that could construct a spiritually strong society. For “genuine belief” to thrive, the believers must, in spite of their partisan or ideological disputes, maintain some adherence to tradition – a set of ideas, rites, and practices that form the foundation of their politics, behavior, and vision for the development of their culture.

Berman attempts to achieve a balance in his cultural and historical analysis by spotlighting societies where edifying traditions are steadfast, helping to anchor their respective cultures, and help inhabitants connect to each other with a shared sense of purpose. In Neurotic Beauty, Berman writes about Japan’s traditions of craft, family, and advantageous use of empty space in art and identity, and how those traditions are under siege by Japan’s own move to large scale, corporate capitalism. In Genio: The Story of Italian Genius, Berman examines the Italian gift of injecting space, movement, into static situations – the result of which is, arguably, the most significant creative legacy in the Western world.

It is not only through travel and study that Berman is able to contrast cultures that maintain some loyalty to their best traditions with the American fixation on commercial, technological, and militaristic “progress,” but also through his own experience. He asserts that the “best decision” of his life was moving to Mexico, and one of his worst decisions was waiting so long to do it. When I asked him about the “traditional society” of his Mexican home, as juxtaposed with his previous home in Washington, DC, he began with the caveat that “Mexico has been heavily Americanized, and traditional values—community, friendship, craftsmanship, spirituality—have accordingly been eroded in favor of hustling, individualism, alienation, and meaninglessness.”

Nevertheless, his move to Mexico was a “bet” on the lasting elements of tradition and communal life in Mexico, and it is one that has proven itself wise. Berman offers an anecdote to illustrate the camaraderie and generosity that often characterize his relationships and interactions in Mexico:

Something like this happens to me at least once a week, and it always wakes me up to the fact that I am not living in the US anymore. I live in an apartment building in Mexico City, one floor up. One day I was coming home from the supermarket, going up the stairs, carrying plastic bags full of groceries, and one of the bags broke. Contents spilled out all over the stairs and onto the ground: oranges, Diet Coke, whatever. At that point, at the top of the stairs, the door to the apartment there opened, and a 5-year-old girl peered out. Without saying a word, she came down the stairs and helped me put the spilled groceries back in the bags. When it was done, she went back upstairs and closed the door.

Berman would not argue that acts of kindness never take place in the United States, or that every single Mexican behaves according to an ethic of solidarity, but the rarity of friendly relations in America, and the breakdown of community, as documented at length by Robert Putnam, Sherry Turkle, and many other scholars, is not accidental.

“For one thing, girls are taught to fear men, in America (possibly with good reason),” Berman said, and added, “The sexes pretty much hate each other, or are at least wary of each other. But equally significant, Americans of all ages are taught to not help other people (we even arrest people who attempt to feed the homeless). Their problems are their problems, not yours. You are not your brother's keeper, and in general other people are rivals or enemies.”

America has failed to enact the social welfare policies of its democratic peers in Western Europe, but what Berman indicts goes to deeper to core of America’s character. America has also neglected to preserve its “bonds of voluntary association” that Alexis de Tocqueville believed were crucial to the health of the society. In that sense, Americans interested in conservatism might consider that their country is the least conservative in the world. It invests almost no effort in conserving anything, from the beauty of its natural environment to the social ties that are essential for a durable civilization.

The improvements of American life for blacks, women, gays, and workers were possible through the courageous social movements of the 20th century, and these are improvements that Berman admires. He cautions, however, that none of them address the central problem of American culture:

Those were certainly great successes, and they made a great difference for the people involved in those movements. Personally, I applaud them. The problem, however, is that all of them were bids to have a greater share in the American pie—bids to enter the dominant culture. None of them envisioned, a la Lewis Mumford, Henry David Thoreau, or Ernest Callenbach, a different type of society. They merely wanted a greater role in the society as is. The only group that stood for a completely different way of life was the Native Americans, and look what we did to them. The savagery of that genocide, of a people who dared to disagree with the American definition of "progress," is unbelievable.

When Martin Luther King turned more radical, expressing opposition to the “spiritual sickness” of America, rather than only its racist laws, the country turned on him. Similarly, Berman describes in his trilogy how most of the public mocked and ridiculed President Jimmy Carter for his televised "Spiritual Malaise" address, given in Annapolis in 1979—a speech that now appears prescient in its condemnation of uncontrolled consumerism, unabashed selfishness, and the stunning inability of the nation to observe its own behavior.

The candidates in the 2020 race for the presidency, including the president himself, routinely repeat the bromide that the election will determine the “direction” of the country. The "soul" of the nation is somehow always at stake, and yet regardless of who gets elected, things continue to spiral out of control. Morris Berman’s sobering assessment doubles as a “Dead End” sign, warning that the winner might influence the speed and comfort of travel, but that ultimately, we're headed for collapse.

[underachievers-please-try-harder]

Interview // Daughters of Reykjavik

For The Forty-Five. Read online.

Dry pussy feminist bitch?” Salka Valsdottir is trying to recall the most offensive comment her band has ever received online. “There are so many bad ones,” the rapper and producer smirks unruffled, speaking over Zoom from the Berlin studio in which she works. In the seven years since their formation, Daughters of Reykjavik – FKA Reykjavíkurdætur – have become depressingly accustomed to verbal abuse. It’s heartening, then, to hear them reclaiming these very slurs on new track ‘No Comment’, and not least because the song forms part of ‘Soft Spot’, their new record and the band’s strongest body of work to date.

Released in May, this self-produced second album represents a giant leap forward for the all-female hip-hop group, eclipsing 2018’s debut ‘Shrimpcocktail’, both in terms of ambition and execution. Now a tight, nine-piece outfit – rather than the nebulous, 20-something-strong collective that first found international notoriety at Iceland Airwaves festival in 2015 – their beats are sicker and bars are slicker, and despite clearly aiming at a larger audience they’re making no discernible concessions in regards to their famously frank subject matter. One moment they’re skewering their more materialistic instincts (‘Fool’s Gold’) or flipping misogynistic hip-hop tropes (the Eminem-bating ‘A Song To Kill Boys To’), and the next they’re exploring female solidarity via a sweet, Spice Girls-inspired bop called ‘DTR’.

We sat down for a lockdown video chat with Salka and band mate Steiney Skuladottir, and talked trolls, empowerment and achieving world domination, one baby at a time.

So it must be a bit of an anti-climax releasing an album during lockdown?

Salka: “(Exhales slowly) Yes. (Laughs) We did have a lot of great reactions and reviews online, so it did feed our egos a little bit, but not as much as it would usually. Which is probably a pretty good thing – sometimes you get a little bit crazy when you’re releasing something. What I think is sad is that we’re not going to have this momentum to tour with this album. But I don’t know, maybe it was better for this album anyway, because it’s a pretty soft album in many ways; an album that was intended to be streamed more than it was necessarily to be performed live. So now we’re going to have to make a huge party album and release it and tour with that.”

How has reducing your numbers to nine impacted the creative process?

Steiney: “This record was very different from the others because Salka said she wanted to produce the album – which we loved. Before, we’ve always had random beats from random producers, but Salka wanted to make an album that takes you on a journey, from the start to the end.”

Salka: “Also, writing was a way more integrated process than in previous projects, where we’ve written in pairs and then we’ve met and hustled the verses together. But this record we wrote mostly in the summer camp when we were all together, bouncing verses back and forth. And as a result I think it became way more fluent and integrated and personal, and that everyone was able to very much channel what they were really good at.

Steiney: “I think we could have a Ted Talk or something about how to work in a group. We’re so good at it.”

Salka: “All of us have to work in other jobs as well. So you have to be pretty dedicated to prioritise something that doesn’t pay your bills. And for the past two years this has been a very, very time consuming project. So some of the [former members] wanted to focus on something else, or had children and didn’t feel like doing both with their other work.”

Speaking of which, I was really impressed to see Sura performing while heavily pregnant in the video for ‘Thirsty Hoes’.

Salka: “Yeah! There’s always one pregnant person. Always. We’re nine and four of us have children. Including the members that are currently working in the band and the members that have been in the band, how many babies have there been born this year? Six?”

Steiney: “Yeah I think so.”

Salka: “There are, like, six new Daughters of Reykjavik in 2020”

Steiney: “We are naturally taking over the world by reproducing.”

You look back on your band history in the video for your latest single, ‘DTR’, right?

Steiney: “Yeah, It’s old videos from our phones from the past five years, when we started touring abroad.”

Salka: “We also decided to include every member that’s ever been in the band. It’s so crazy to see how many members have fluctuated through this little system.

Steiney: Basically, every single girl you will see on the screen has been in the band. I think it’s 23 people.”

The concept for the video fits so well with song, which is basically a love letter to each other. What prompted you to write it?

Steiney: “We’ve often had the question, ‘Who do you look to for inspiration, and who do you want to be like?’ And it kept coming up that we were like, ‘I think, just each other.’ I never feel as powerful as I do onstage with this group of girls. I feel like I can do anything – I can fuck up or I can do something amazing – and they’re always going to love me no matter what and celebrate whatever I do. It’s such a big difference from the rest of this male-dominated world. It’s such a relief.”

Salka: “The dynamic of the group makes you feel so powerful. When we were writing the record at the summer camp a year and a half ago, I think this was one of the last songs we wrote. We were reminiscing and thinking about how we could make something that would be for us, and to confirm the feelings we have for each other and for this group. I don’t think there are a lot of songs in Iceland that are specifically made for or about female friendship, and the confirmation and admiration women have for each other. I was just imagining 13 year old girls drinking for the first time and singing this song at karaoke, crying.”

Steiney: “‘You’re the one who always reminds me of the strength I have inside.’ That’s the chorus. And it’s just so on point of what this group does, I think, for every single one of us.”

And you’ve had to put on a united front because you’ve faced a lot of resistance back home. Do you think that criticism is essentially fuelled by misogyny?

Salka: A lot of it has been pure misogyny. And when you get really used to really, really sexist comments and someone tries to approach you with an opinion that is actually more like constructive criticism, I have caught myself just being too defensive to even be able to listen.

Steiney: Especially because at the beginning it wouldn’t matter what we would put out we would always get these hateful comments from the media here in Iceland. And we got famous very quickly in Iceland. Basically in one night.

Salka: Also, when we started we were amateurs. We were having fun and we were trying something out that we weren’t necessarily comfortable with or confident in. I think women especially get scrutinised for being amateur. It’s almost completely unacceptable. To have this group of this many women that all sucked but were still having all this fun, I think that inspired as many people as it infuriated. But there were a lot of shitty, blatantly sexist comments. It was a really crazy mirror on Icelandic society as well, which is recognised internationally for being progressive.

You’re scheduled to play Iceland Airwaves in November. What can we expect from the show?

Steiney: I think it’s gonna be such a good gig because we’re gonna be so fucking excited and eager. The only thing is I’m scared about is that somebody’s just going to injure themselves because we’re overexcited. That somebody’s gonna run off the stage…

Salka: That’ll be you, Steiney! You’re going to fucking do it (Laughs) But you can expect energy. A lot of it. Too much, some might say. Like, a lot of interactivity with the audience, a lot of chaotic choreography. Somebody once called us shitty Pussycat Dolls. (Laughs)

Steiney: That’s what you’re gonna get. (Laughs) With, I guess, more danger.

Salka: Pussy Riot meets Pussycat Dolls.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #389

Top Ten Things I Want from The Batman

So last week I celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of Tim Burton’s Batman by listing the things I thought he got “right” about the character (“right” being, I acknowledge, arbitrary). This time around, sticking with a similar theme, I’m going to flip the switch and look to the future. Matt Reeves’ long-gestating Bat-pic The Batman is finally gearing up, having recently cast its Dark Knight in the shape of erstwhile vampire Robert Pattinson. The saga of The Batman, its Affleck-ness and its connectedness with the DCEU as-was, is almost worth a movie on its own (I really hope there’s a book written about it at some point, or at least a long-form essay; the ins and outs of what became of the DCEU and the de-Snyder-fication of their film slate is potentially fascinating). At any rate, we’re going to get another Batman film and that’s quite exciting. Especially as it is – potentially – a chance to course-correct issues that I had over the previous incarnation of the Caped Crusader. Ben Affleck was very good, but he looked a bit sad and hefty in the suit (the silly cowl essentially removed his neck), and he killed a lot of people. Like, tons. What’s up with that?

So with all that in mind, and given everything that’s come before, here’s a list of places where I hope Reeves and Pattinson go with their Bat-epic. Or even don’t go! You’ll see what I mean, as we get into a list of things I want from the new Batman, The Batman.

No Guns, No Killing: this is a big one for me. The Batman I love in the comics – most of the incarnations, anyway – is very strict about this. For him, murder is the worst crime, and his whole deal is being Anti-Crime. Therefore he would never, ever kill. Also he views guns as, literally, the “weapon of the enemy”. Even Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy – which is probably the closest to the comics in terms of his “one rule” – had him bedecking his equipment with guns and “not saving” people. Here, I’d like a very strict code.

White Eyes: okay, I’m not asking for an MCU Spider-Man here; I know comics characters have whited-out eyes in costume and that doesn’t usually translate to live-action. But Batman would/could/should wear some kind of eye-piece. Even if it’s goggles that he removes/retract into his cowl. What I want to avoid is the blacked-out “panda eyes” look of seeing his real eyes within his cowl. I just find it a bit daft for Batman.

A Working Batsuit: whilst I’m on the subject of Batman’s Bat-duds, one thing that I loved about the Nolan-verse was that his outfit was sensible. Obviously not too sensible, as he’s, y’know, dressed as a bat, but it looked like a suit designed to fight crime in. The Burton/Schumacher suits looked like sculpted pieces of rubber, no good for movement; the Snyder suit looked like fancy dress with “cosmetic damage” and rubbery wrinkles. The MCU, on the other hand, is great at making superhero suits that look iconic and super-y but also workable; Captain America wears some kind of oversuit with, presumably, armour on the inside, and also a cowl of sorts, but one which allows him to move his head and which looks functional despite also having a dirty great “A” on it.

Sweet Wheels: similarly, I’d like a Batmobile that’s more “car” than “tank”. The Burton/Schumacher films, as was their want, gave Bats a car that was more form than function; going the other way, Nolan and Snyder had heavily-armoured war machines that owed a big debt to The Dark Knight Returns. I’d rather lean towards the former, but really, can’t he just have some souped-up Knight Rider thing that’s fast and stealthy? He’s more Black Widow than War Machine don’t forget.

Heh: Batman has, by his own admission, “a sense of humour that nobody gets”. I don’t want a relentlessly dour grimdark Batman. Give me a Batman who can crack a wry smile or a sardonic one-liner, even if he’s being bitterly ironic. To be fair most screen incarnations of Batman have had some sense of humour, but Batman v Superman in particular was almost relentless in its miserableness so I’m hoping The Batman has a funny bone, pitch black as it may be.

A Real Gotham: although I praised to the heavens last week the Anton Furst-ified Gotham of Batman and Batman Returns, I’d like it if the new film hewed closer to Nolan’s vision of the city as a “real” place. Sure, give it stylised embellishments; make it “New York at night” or some twisted version of New Jersey or Chicago or whatever. But I don’t think we need the ridiculous mile-high statues of the Schumacher films, and the less said about the frankly terrible CGI cityscape from the opening minutes of Justice League the better. Shoot on location, or use really good CGI. Make it 10% weirder than normal and I think we’re onto a winner.

Make Batman John Wick: I love how John Wick fights. He’s all business. Boom, boom, the guy’s down, blam, blam, he’s dead. It’s all about minimalising risk, fighting as efficiently as possible. He gets the guys down because, well, the longer they’re up the more chance that they’ll kill him. Batman should fight like that. As few moves as possible, but target them precisely; nothing flashy or extravagant, just get the guys down. Obviously he doesn’t kill or use a gun (see point number 1) but I want a Batman who looks cool when fighting, looks like he trained with monks and ninjas and assassins and wizards. Basically, let’s have some genuinely impressive-looking fight scenes for once.

Make Batman Sherlock: I have high hopes for this one, as the word round the internet campfire is The Batman will be much more detective-focused than previous films (to this date, the two Batmen who are the most sleuth-y are Adam West and Kevin Conroy). But Batman is supposed to be the World’s Greatest Detective so, y’know, let’s see him detect. Greatly. Er, around the world. Make it a proper crime film, a whodunnit. That’d be good.

Make Batman Weird: not necessarily “Tim Burton weird”, but just give us a sense that this is a Batman who has a sci-fi closet. A Batman who, maybe, has fought Monster Men, Killer Crocs, sentient mud and murderous flora. Nolan’s Batman was super-serious and Snyder’s Batman was super-miserable so whilst I applaud a more street-level focus and a noir-ish tone, I hope the possibility exists for a world full of Man-Bats, immortal warlords, dollotrons, and more.

A Wider World: I really hope this one is viable. The plan was for the Justice League-centred movies to form a spine, telling a story arc over multiple films, with the stand-alone tales functioning as spin-offs. As it turned out, the “spin-offs” were the successful ones, and with Batman being rebooted from Batfleck to Battinson, it looks like the “Extended” part of “DC Extended Universe” is up in the air (so is the “Universe” part too, I guess). I don’t know if Justice League or the preceding films are still in continuity even, or if continuity is still a thing, but all the same what I want from a DC Comics adaptation is a shared universe. I’m not a big fan of Zack Snyder’s incarnation of that universe (too dark, miserable, and po-faced), but I still want to see Bruce hanging out with Clark, teaming up with Diana, arguing with Arthur… I want that feeling you get from the MCU (and the comics, for that matter), that Wakanda going public or SHIELD being disbanded or Tony Stark dying is going to have repercussions in other films. I think The Batman is going to be pretty much self-contained in the same way as Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Shazam, but all the same, I hope the potential is still there. In much the same way as I’m very happy for the film to be a street-level noir with the potential to one day have a sequel featuring Batman and Robin fighting off Mister Freeze in a Bat-UFO, I hope it focuses on Bruce and Gotham with the potential to segue into a Justice League movie or have a sequel set in Themyscira or something. Don’t close off the universe, is what I’m saying.

So there we are. I’m aware that this is, essentially, a fanboy wishlist of My Ideal Batman, coming from a straight white bloke in his thirties who graduated from Year One through Knightfall then “New Gotham” and found his Batman apogee in the works of Grant Morrison. Matt Reeves has his vision and it’s good that he sticks to that (for better or worse, I still would have liked to have seen how Snyder’s proposed Justice League arc had played out – although I am emphatically not a “Snyder Cut” devotee). But I feel there’s a sweet spot between stylised and realistic, between comics-accurate and designed-for-film, that hasn’t quite been reached with Batman yet (The Animated Series came closest). Nolan’s films are obviously the best, but I do think that the more realistic you make Batman’s world, the less realistic he himself becomes, and you make the central conceit (trust fund orphan did a lot of push-ups then dressed as a Dracula to Fight Crime) all the more silly. I’m still a bit sad that we lost Affleck, but I’m very excited by where we’re going to go. I just hope it doesn’t preclude a World’s Finest, Justice League Unlimited, or – heck – even a Robin movie somewhere down the line.