#i need them to exist outside of them for that to happen

[thesecondhandwoman]

ISHA’S DEATH

Sevika x fem!reader

Summary: Sevika is devastated after learning that Isha, the young girl Jinx had found and whom Sevika had grown close to, died sacrificing herself to protect Jinx during a violent incident. Stricken with guilt and grief, Sevika crumbles, unable to cope with the loss, especially since she wasn’t there when it happened. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Sevika falls apart in your arms, desperately needing comfort.

The news came like a thunderstorm on a clear day.

Sevika had always been the one who was prepared for anything, the one who could take on a hundred enemies without flinching, the one who could shoulder any burden, no matter how heavy. But this news—this thing—was different. It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t a betrayal. It wasn’t something that could be punched out of existence.

It was a loss. A cruel, senseless loss.

Isha. The little girl Jinx had found when she was barely more than a whisper of herself, a non-verbal, rebellious spark of defiance that had found a home in the chaos of the world they lived in. Isha, the one Sevika had grown attached to, who had wormed her way into her heart with her unspoken resilience and her quiet, yet unwavering loyalty.

And now she was gone.

Sevika stood at the doorway, her broad frame framed by the dim light outside, looking like she had just been struck by a physical blow. Her eyes were wide, unseeing, staring at the floor as if it could give her the answers she needed. Her normally composed expression was gone, replaced by something raw, something wild, as if she was trying to process the unthinkable.

You had heard the whispers long before she walked through the door—gossip, rumors, half-truths—but you had hoped, prayed that it wasn’t true. That Isha was still out there, laughing her silent laugh, running circles around Jinx as they always did.

But when Sevika had stepped into the apartment, her face a mask of disbelief, you knew.

You knew that the storm was finally here.

“Sevika…” you whispered, your voice a tentative thread of concern. You had never seen her like this.

Sevika didn’t answer, and you knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t the type to speak when words could never be enough. You approached her slowly, your heart pounding, unsure of what to do, how to comfort her when the hurt was so vast, so endless.

Her eyes met yours, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. They were empty. There was no fire in them, no hardness, no walls. Only a hollow, vast emptiness that swallowed everything in its path.

“Isha’s dead,” Sevika rasped, her voice thick, hoarse, and cracking. “She… she died saving Jinx. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there… and she’s dead.”

The words didn’t feel real, not in the way they should. Isha was a kid, a girl who had barely started her life, a girl who’d found something like family in the wreckage of their broken world.

The details were hazy, but you had heard enough—an accident. A violent break-out. A sacrifice.

She had stepped in front of Jinx.

You felt the ground beneath you tilt. Isha had always been so quiet, so protective in her own way, but you hadn’t thought of her being so… brave. To protect someone with her life, someone who meant everything to her… to her family. You knew how much Sevika had cared for Isha—she had never said it aloud, but in the quiet moments, when Jinx was distracted or the others were fighting, Sevika had been the one to watch over the girl.

The one who tried to fill the space that had been left when everything had fallen apart.

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing the sleeve of Sevika’s jacket, but she flinched away as if your touch was too much, too soon. It was like she couldn’t breathe, like the air had thickened and pressed against her chest.

“I wasn’t there,” she repeated, this time with more anguish, her voice cracking under the weight of guilt and helplessness. “I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. I should’ve—”

Her voice broke on the last word, and before you could stop her, Sevika dropped to her knees. You rushed to her side, your heart in your throat, but she was already shaking. Not violently, but with that quiet tremble that comes before something breaks.

“I should’ve been there,” Sevika whispered again, almost to herself, her hands gripping the floor like she was trying to anchor herself to something solid, something real. “I promised… I promised I’d protect her.”

You knelt beside her, your arms reaching out to her cautiously. You weren’t sure if she wanted comfort, if she wanted anything from you at all. But when she didn’t pull away, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest, pressing her face to your neck, the warmth of her breath sending a chill through your body.

Her hands clenched at the fabric of your shirt, like she was trying to hold on to something that wasn’t slipping away. Her body trembled against yours, and the soft sobs that had been building inside her finally spilled out in a quiet, guttural sound.

“I couldn’t protect her,” Sevika gasped, her voice trembling with frustration and sorrow. “I wasn’t there when she needed me. I wasn’t there when she gave herself up. I couldn’t… I didn’t—”

You shushed her gently, running your fingers through her hair, pressing her closer to you. You knew the words wouldn’t heal the wound, not now, not with what had happened. But you also knew that she needed to feel something besides the crushing weight of guilt and helplessness.

“She knew you loved her, Sevika,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “She knew you would’ve been there if you could. She knew you would’ve died for her. She knew.”

Sevika’s sobs deepened, her body going limp against yours as she let go of the dam she had been holding inside. She clung to you like a lifeline, her tears soaking your neck, her breath ragged and uneven. She wasn’t just mourning Isha’s death. She was mourning her own inability to protect the one person who had needed her the most, who had trusted her the most.

“I failed her,” Sevika whispered through the tears. “I failed her like I failed everything. I failed them all.”

“No,” you said softly, your hand pressing against the back of her head, guiding her gently back to look at you. “No, you didn’t. You’ve been there for them, for Jinx, for everyone. You can’t save everyone, Sevika. Not all of them.”

The words felt empty, but you couldn’t find any better way to express the helplessness that had settled over you both. The truth was, there was no right way to console someone in the face of such loss. You couldn’t bring Isha back. You couldn’t undo the past.

But you could hold Sevika. You could hold her as she crumbled in your arms.

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the heartbreak you felt inside. “I’m here, Sevika. You’re not alone in this. You’re not alone.”

It wasn’t much, but it was all you had to give. And, in that moment, it had to be enough.

So, you stayed there with Sevika, cradling her in your arms as her sobs slowly began to taper off into quiet, exhausted whimpers. The weight of her grief still pressed down on her like a suffocating storm, but her tears had slowed, the brokenness of it all sinking deeper into her bones.

She didn’t speak anymore—just leaned into you, her breath shallow and uneven, her body trembling in your arms as if she couldn’t quite shake the agony of the moment.

There was no magic cure for the pain she felt. No comforting words that would ever be enough to erase the guilt and loss clawing at her heart. Isha was gone, and no amount of regret could bring her back.

Still, you kept holding her. One hand pressed against her back, the other running through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing you could offer—your presence, your warmth, and the unwavering understanding that she didn’t have to shoulder this alone.

You could feel her exhaustion seeping through her, the weight of everything finally wearing her down, and slowly, very slowly, her body relaxed. The tense shuddering of her muscles eased, her sobs becoming faint little gasps. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position to support her more comfortably, but she didn’t pull away.

You kept your voice quiet, just barely a whisper, speaking into the quiet space between you both. “It’s okay to rest now, Sevika. You’ve been holding on for so long… it’s okay.”

Her only response was a small, broken exhale, and then, finally, her body went completely limp in your arms. She was still—completely still—and her breath became deeper, more regular, as if sleep had finally claimed her.

The tears had stopped, leaving only the softest trace of salt on your skin. You felt her weight, the heaviness of her heartbreak, resting on you as she slept. Her face was peaceful for the first time in what felt like forever, though the faintest shadow of pain still lingered in her features.

You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to disturb her. Sevika, the fighter, the protector, was finally letting herself fall apart, and for the first time, she was allowing herself to be weak, to be human. The woman who could take on the world had crumbled into your arms, and though it tore your heart to pieces, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of tenderness toward her in that moment.

You stayed with her, as the hours passed, your body still aching from the grief you couldn’t fix. But as Sevika slept, the sound of her breath steadying in the crook of your neck, you realized something. She had needed this, even if she couldn’t admit it. Even if she hadn’t known she needed it. She had needed to break, needed to feel the comfort of being held in someone else’s arms, to know she didn’t have to be strong all the time.

And so, you stayed.

The night passed, and time seemed to lose meaning as you sat there, holding Sevika as she slept. Her heartbeat had slowed, her face now softened in sleep, and despite everything—the tragedy, the pain, the emptiness—you felt a quiet hope bloom inside you.

Tomorrow, you would help her heal. It wouldn’t happen quickly, and it wouldn’t be easy, but together, you would find a way to carry the weight of this loss.

For now, you just held her.

And in the stillness of the night, as the world outside seemed to hold its breath, you wished you could make the ache in her heart disappear. But for tonight, you could only be there, as she rested, utterly broken—but not alone.

[joicecubes]

my take on this scene (arcane s2 act 2 spoilers. obviously)

if you’re active within the arcane fandom space recently i’m sure you’ve at least stumbled across the discourse where someone interpreted this exchange to be vi “realizing jinx is a better older sister” or something. personally i think it’s a lot less about comparison and a lot more about guilt.

vi has felt responsible for jinx her entire life. she was her protector when they were kids. she abandoned her after vander, milo, and claggor’s deaths leading silco to take her in. jinx went on to work for him. she killed caitlyn’s mother in the council meeting explosion. everything jinx has done and every horrible thing she’s experienced has been a direct result (at least in vi’s mind) of her own failures as an older sibling. and despite her guilt, eventually she forced herself to accept that powder didn’t exist anymore. even more painful, that since she’s the one who caused jinx to be this way, she also has to take responsibility and stand by caitlyn’s side in ensuring jinx won’t hurt anyone else.

but she fails. jinx runs free, vi wallows in her breakup sorrows, and the next time they see each other, jinx… has changed. and she has that same kid with her from their fight. and she’s come to vi willingly for her help.

i think vi is thinking a lot of things when she sees jinx comforting isha. surprise, firstly, to see this side of jinx she hasn’t seen since they were kids. the jinx she knows is a shell of her former self, changed beyond belief, and yet vi watches as jinx softens and treats isha with so much care. helps her dust herself off, says something vi might’ve said to powder what feels like a lifetime ago. “still got all your insides?”

the truth of it is, it’s not jinx being a better older sister than vi was. it’s jinx emulating what vi once was to her, and i think vi catches onto that. she’s watching as an outsider now, jinx and isha paralleling what her and powder’s relationship used to be like and i think it would make sense if the strongest thing she’s feeling right now is longing. how devastating it is that their relationship feels so irreparable, how deeply she wishes she hadn’t hurt powder so long ago.

but there’s also hope in her asking “why’d you come get me? you don’t actually need my help.” sure, she’s still bitter. how could she not be, after everything that’s happened between them? but she recognizes that jinx doesn’t need her anymore, it becomes especially clear seeing jinx taking care of someone else like vi used to take care of her. so why seek her out? why drag her all the way out here? there’s a deep, wounded, guilty part of her that’s desperate for reconciliation, so she reaches for it. especially now that she has no one else.

they make me so sad :(

[bitchslapblastoids]

interesting but predictable how some of the inherent uncanny valley strangeness of bringing something that exists in the chronically online space into the real world can manifest. I’ve noticed this at all the other tours of theirs as well - some people can have a hard time separating internet behaviors from irl behaviors, and the sudden merging of these compartmentalized ways of being (online vs offline) can be hard to navigate.

I think it can also make people uncomfortable to see their comedic silly billie faves being serious, and there’s a dissonance to seeing them, these characters who live on our screens, along with the audience around you who are typically just avatars and usernames shitposting in lowercase, all suddenly in the same physical room. And suddenly that often completely disparate, scattered, semi-anonymous community needs to adapt to social mores and group norms in a new social context. It’s taking a community with its own set of rules that were designed for and in response to a digital landscape and plonking it into a completely alien environment. And yeah, we’re all humans who exist in public outside of our internet lives, but it’s different when that happens but you’re still in the context of the phandom.

Which I think is what leads to things like shouting out rly profane, out of pocket things during the quieter moments of their shows. because if you comment something like that online, you won’t rly be interrupting anything. you might be ignored, you might get some laughs, maybe you’ll get a notice bc haha unhinged right. Or like treating an evacuation drill as a lol pass the tea yas mommy daniel moment instead of an oh we’re actually here in real life moment.

I went back to my tatinof review bc I remembered writing this - “someone behind me kept screaming at them to "GET NAKED" (particularly during silences in the 7 second challenge) to which everyone in my area responded with claps and laughter.” During my second TIT show, there were people around me who wolf whistled and shouted “kinky” and “ayo ok freaky” during totally inappropriate moments. I remember during Dan’s quieter bits of WAD people could not seem to just stay silent. (I have suffered complete amnesia when it comes to ii so I can’t speak to any part of that experience lol.) after the preshow and during intermission at tit, I heard separate people at separate times making a range of critical comments about Dan and Phil’s bodies in ways that were downright shocking and not how I hope they’d typically feel comfortable speaking about other humans.

I think on the whole, phannies are so lovely and kind to one another. I feel deep gratitude for this community. And I know this isn’t just a phandom thing; I think how we treat one another in public spaces has generally really eroded, and concert etiquette has become abysmally poor. But phandom, as always, is a little unique, because of the sense of mutual understanding and the co-created dynamic between us and d&p. It dissolves the boundaries, so when Dan tells you to shut up, your online brain tells you that’s just a chance to be funny with your fave. When you have a chance to be heard, your online brain provides a memey shitpost joke and your irl self shouts it out even though that ain’t the move in a theatre performance unless invited to do so.

No real conclusion here, just some observations about the rly unique dynamic this all creates!

[yveshiver]

Rafe Cameron - Late.

Lana Del Rey - Pretty When You Cry

The weekend was awful and you wanted to talk to someone that saturday night. Not just someone, but him. Yet you know the rules that both of you have set: no texting, no calling, no meetings. No need to repeat the past mistakes, but you just know you can't keep yourself off him. Today you need him, to feel yourself falling into his strong arms and feel as if nothing else exists in the world. No wondering how you didn't crash to some random car on the road since your head was full of other matters. Your mind drove you to his new little place, the apartment he got on the Silence Road. The phone showed the time 01:13, a bit too late for the friendly visit, and yet again, you are nowhere to be friends, not anymore. You got out of the car, the nights were getting cold and you stood there thinkin it over and over again, "Am I ready to lose him one more time?". And then you made one step closer to the entrance door, one more and few more. Two knocks at the door and no reply, you knocked again. "Yeah, it was fucking stupid I should just leave before anyone notices" and you start to stride back to the car breathless.

-No way. - He showed at the door in shorts only, topless and barefoot. His buzzcut was getting a little long, the goosebumps from the cold showed on the muscles all over the body and you noticed a little tattoo of a boat on the rib.

-I am sorry, I should have not come here. - Your tears started to show. - And you were asleep and it's late and we agreed not to ever.. do this.. again.. I'm… - You were lost of breath, the panic was getting you, it felt as if the ground beneath your feet was dissapearing and you were ready to fall.

-Hey, princess, I'm here, hey.. - He stepped closer to you.

-You can't go out like this, you'll catch a cold, it's very…

-Hey, it's ok, don't worry about me catching a cold, hey… - He was so close, he got your face into his hands trying to find the reason for this sudden appearance.

-Rafe, I'm sorry. - You couldn't look into his eyes. - I'm so sorry for being here, I know that we… - Tears were streaming down the face.

-It's ok, hey, look at me. Please, baby, look at me, I need to know what happened, you are safe with me, ok? It's ok, c'mhere. - He held you in his arms as close as it was humanly possible. He placed your head onto his chest, his arms were cuddled to you. For the first time this day you felt safe, it was such a liberating feeling. You stood there with your eyes closed knowing you can finally relax in his arms.

-Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, ok? You are safe here, you know that. It's ok. I do wish you told me the reason of the tears tho. - He got your face into his hands once again, you always loved when he did that.

-I feel so helpless, I know I can't bother you with my things.

-Hey, your things are my things, I got you. - He put your strands of hair behind your ears, his fingers brushed through you hair as you tilted you head to his hand. You looked straight into his eyes, the striking blueness of them always swept you away. The colour of the sea, the colour of the sky, the colour of everything that gave you hope and comfort. Now they shined brighter in the night. You wanted the moment to last forever, but you knew you only had this night. You got out of his arms, took the breath of fresh air. He noticed you getting away and looked so worried.

-Hey, why don't you come inside and tell me everyhing, huh? - You felt as if he didn't want you to go away.

-Rafe, do you think it's a good idea?

-Sure. - He tried to seem unbothered, putting his hands into the pockets of the shorts. - Why not, and it is really chilly outside. - He shugged the shoulders. You noticed the freckes on them, oh God how much you loved these freckles.

-Why not, I can't let you get cold because of me, right? He started walking to the door checking if you were following. All you knew is how much you wanted this night to last forever, how much you wanted to feel him close to you, to look into his eyes, to have his hands holding you. You might not have another day with him, but at least you have tonight, right?

[petvampire]

okay, so I have feelings about the cameos that I’m not going to go into here because I’m glad people who are into them are enjoying them, but they are very much Not My Thing and apparently my opinions about that are unpopular.

but let’s also please remember that word of god/actors’ comments outside of the show do not actually equate to canon. all of this is still speculative even if it’s being stated that ‘such and such would have happened in season two.’

that doesn’t exist, so it’s still not canon. gonna need people to calm down about it all.

EDIT: and for people who are going to be like ‘OH SEASON TWO WAS ALREADY WRITTEN SO IT’S CANON’

bold of you to assume there would have been no edits or rewrites during production.

[leefail]

I was thinking... The Robins was a mobile adoption sim (otome game style), launched a few years back with the hope of a revolutionary take on the dating sim genre. The game, though, lost its audience real quick. Because it wasn't a dating sim.

And then we have Bruce Wayne, a multibillionaire shut-in, never seen outside of the Wayne Manor ever since his parents met their tragic death, with the one person who remembers he existed being the Waynes' aged butler.

Don't let his being a shut-in fool you, Bruce was never good with electronic devices, let alone video games. His days were mostly spent sleeping and trying to chase the demons inside his head away with books.

That's how he downloaded The Robins, a click on an ad that told him to... click. (In big bold green letters with an arrow) It got him to the downloading link, and he just downloaded it.

Bruce became an addict. The game had four main capture targets: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Along with a bunch of other secret routes you can unlock during your playthrough.

The gameplay was simple enough. You just have to increase a character's favourability to the max for them to get adopted. Favourability increases with each unlocked special scene, and special scenes are unlocked with a certain number of successful interactions.

Special scenes were Bruce's favourite part. He'd hold his breath so tight and sit straight like a scholar for an exam and give all of his attention to the screen. You wouldn't guess he was playing a game.

The first one he played was with Dick. The young adult was sitting on the rooftop and Bruce followed him there. They talked and joked. Bruce never thought it was a special scene until the spark in Dick's eyes was gone, and he told him about his parents' death.

"Sometimes," Bruce could only see Dick's side profile as he talked, "Sometimes I wonder, Bruce. Would this have happened if I just... wasn't there? Could I have been a... a changeable variable?"

"Am I still a changeable variable?"

... For an even bigger tragedy that is about to happen.

As Dick's loud cries filled the room. Bruce's pillow became soaked with his own tears.

As for his favourite character? It was Jason, who, when Bruce finally maxed his favourability points with, disappeared instead of getting adopted. Bruce was so upset about it he spent a whole night writing a harsh criticising review. A gamer took a screenshot of his comment later, and it became an embarrassing meme that was the talk of the gaming community for a while. Bruce wasn't aware of this because he didn't have social media. (I need to mention that his username in the app store was his actual full name)

You can imagine the stress he felt when Jason returned with the rage of a burning sun.

"You know what I hate most about you, Bruce?"

His gloved hands clutched the neck of Bruce's character shirt, yanking him up so they're face to face. "It's that you're a fucking coward"

"It only took one tiny inconvenient problem for you to hide in your little corner and just give up"

"Because, heh" Jason's expression was vicious when he grinned mockingly, devastatingly at Bruce's face, looking straight through the man's phone sceen "you're saaadd. You just lost the closest thing you have to a son, so you're a sad, pathetic, miserable loser. It's an enough justification for you to just. Stop. Tryyyinggg!"

"If I wanted a dad. It wouldn't be someone who'd make my absence the blame for whatever cowardly shit he's on."

"It would be someone who even when I die, would fucking carve mountains with my name so no one could forget.

... I never died, Bruce. But everybody forgot"

"If I wanted a dad, it would be someone who'd hold my hand, " Jason caught Bruce's character's shoulder in a death grip, " and pull me up, he would come to me...

He- he would pull himself out of his own stupid head just so he could come to me" when Jason cried, Bruce closed the game.

For the long time Bruce spent wallowing in his room. Never had he felt so... heavy as he did in the later days. He could sense the weight of food in his stomach, and his butt would be numb no matter how many times he changed his position. He was tired, spent, and no book could keep his attention for long. It got to the point where Pennyworth, his butler, finally talked to him for the first time after their big fight.

"Master Bruce, you are not touching your food. Are you alright?"

Bruce's throat twisted in on itself.

No, he was not, and had not been for a long, long time.

He didn't reply, instead.. he opened the game.

He still got Tim and Damian to capture. After all.

[daretoassume]

hello, i hope you're doing well. my english is not the best so i apologize. i've been on the loa side of tumblr for some time and one thing that has stuck with me the most is "once you know you've the ultimate power, you will view your imagination as your true reality" and the thing is that i understand his and i understand that we're conditioned to be realistic and believe the opposite of what loa teaches since day 1. but what i don't understand is how do you or anyone who has been successfully manifesting be in *that* state where things happening in your reality doesn't phase you? how do you be so sure of your imagination that you surrender to it? majority of the people i see here view loa as a back up option of some sorts. it's like "if i don't complete this assignment by today, i'll just manifest that the deadline extends" instead of "i don't have to complete my assignment because the assignment is already completed/doesn't even exist in the first place". i really struggle with understanding and being on board with the contradicting opinions and actions of people on the same subject. i've manifested some things but even today in order to be in that state or mindset, i need to listen to a subliminal or do mediation. so, i'm really curious as to how it all comes naturally to everyone. i'm so sorry for the long ask but i hope you can provide your input.

hellooo angel, one thing i always remind myself is that i shouldn't apply logic to something profound. try to take everything you are learning lightly. be so light about it.

1. to be in the state where things don't bother me, no matter what is happening, was a habit i developed over time. i understand that i must constantly choose the reality i prefer, and for me to do that, i can't be phased by whatever is happening outside of me when everything i ever wanted is already done, already experienced, in my inner world.

this was a hard lesson for me (it was tied to my core belief). of course, that's just how i went through it, and i want to be transparent because it's not just about the law of assumption—i mixed in everything i learned about personal growth and loa.

now, i’m not saying you or anyone else has to go through the same process, but that's how i molded my beliefs.

2. when it comes to back-up options, it's all about preference— what you prefer to experience in your reality. some people place conditions or limitations on their reality, so they might choose what feels like the path of least resistance. either way, it's done.

3. if you believe subliminals or meditations help you, and if you think they are the path of least resistance, then go ahead. but you really don't need them. your desires—everything you want to experience—are already yours. it's done, it's solidified. you don't need to impose these unspoken rules on yourself to experience it. you are already experiencing it in your imagination. these unspoken rules and conditions are only holding you back.

i hope this helps you!

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 15

Masterpost

Jason didn’t enjoy killing per se. It wasn’t like, a favorite hobby of his or an addiction and he had to get his fix, but every once in a while there would be an asshole so completely deserving of a bullet to the brain that Jason couldn’t help but feel a bit of peace the moment they stopped breathing. Had he been a bit worried that Miguel and Santiago would hate him for killing their dad? Yes. But was ridding Gotham of one more child molester worth it? Yes.

After he’d pried Danny off of the body of someone he’d never seen before, he’d held the man close until his rage died down. He thought- well he thought he and Danny were different. Danny had some kind of explanation for how he’d come back to life and he seemed at peace with the whole kinda-sorta-ghost-thing but when Jason had first found Danny beating the shit out of another person, his eyes had looked… Lazarus green.

Jason knew for a fact that Danny’s eyes were blue (how many times had he gotten lost staring into them while the man raved about space or Gotham or some other special interest of his?). So despite not knowing the situation, Jason had fought Danny away from the man and held him close until what he assumed was pit rage went away.

He knew it was confusing, disorienting, to come out of an episode and instead of getting answers to the questions he so desperately wanted to ask (What happened? Do I need to kill this guy? Are you hurt? Are the boys hurt? Why are your eyes Lazarus green? Was the Pit Rage? Do you know who the league of Assassins are? What is your relation to them? how-), he told Danny to get cleaned up and checked on the boys.

It was both surprising and completely unsurprising that he found Santiago locked in a closet with Miguel crying in front of the door. He got the younger boy out in seconds and immediately had an armful of angry and scared thirteen year old boy. They only spoke for a few minutes before Danny had come back and he decided to give the family some time to talk.

But his eyes were BRIGHT green and he couldn’t shake the feeling that- was it just a dead person thing? That would make sense, right? His eyes glowed green but they’d always thought that was the Pit’s influence. But that guy- Phantom- his eyes had been green too. So three dead guys walk into a daycare with glowing green eyes- it was like the setup of a really bad joke.

No one asked him what happened to the kid’s bio dad which was good because while Jason was glad he’d stopped Danny from fully killing the bastard (Danny didn’t need to have another murder on his conscience, even if both would have been justified in his and most people’s books), he had no intention of letting the bastard get away alive. He’d looked into Miguel and Santiago when he’d first learned of their existence and the only reason he hadn’t killed their sperm donor then was because he was behind bars.

So he’d placed the man’s unconscious body on the fire escape outside the hallway and grabbed it on his way out. Once he was far enough away that the boys and Danny wouldn’t hear the gunshot and connect it to him, he put a bullet in the man’s head. He dropped the body in an alley near a police station and intended to call it a night before remembering he had to debrief with the bats.

Maybe it was his disappearing act or his short responses or something in the way he held himself, but for once B seemed to listen when Jason told him off.

No he wasn’t going to give B the card Phantom had given him- “Did he ask YOU to coffee? Didn’t think so, fuck off.”, no he wasn’t going to explain why he’d been trying to get a moment alone with Danny after the fight- “My personal life is none of your business, fuck off.”, and he definitely wasn’t going to explain why he’d left the daycare and come back to the cave covered in blood- “My personal business is none of yours, fuck off!”.

And after it all B had just let him. He pushed less than usual and not in the ‘afraid you’ll go into a pit rage if I push’ way but in a ‘you’re clearly not going to tell me so why bother’ way. (Maybe even a ‘you’re my son and I trust you to make the right decision’ way? Was that too much to hope for?) 

He’d definitely confused the hell out of Duke with his questions but he just- he needed to get answers and he couldn’t rationalize getting them from Danny at the moment. He’d call Phantom tomorrow, tonight seemed too… forward. Especially since the ghost (King wtf) had essentially asked him on a date (that’s what was implied with the flirting and mention of coffee, right?!). 

So if he had green eyes sometimes, and Danny had green eyes sometimes, and Phantom had green eyes, and they also were all dead at some point, then maybe there was a connection? And Duke understood that kind of thing way better than he did because the kid could see auras and shit so maybe he could tell Jason something useful. And he did. 

Useful and entirely meaningless at the same time because what the fuck did it mean that they all had toxic green auras?!

He’d patrolled for a few more hours, contemplating what it really meant, what he should do, if he should ask Danny, and so on and so forth, until he felt out of his mind with questions. At some point he decided to call it a night and head back to his apartment to sleep. But he had so much energy still- nervous energy too- he hated nervous energy. 

When he was feeling… feeling too much, he baked. Or cooked. Usually he made more than he could ever eat and brought the leftovers to the safe houses he’d let homeless kids live in or down to a shelter or something else like that. Tonight he had one goal in mind with the food he made.

So he baked. He made a pan of brownies, a tray of cookies, three dozen muffins, a pie of all things, and he cooked. He made a pot of stew, a lasagna, two different soups, vindaloo, and a breakfast casserole, and when he was done he packed up as much as he could carry and took it to Danny’s. 

Sneaking into the apartment was easy, he’d done it often enough for the last couple of months and despite warning Danny that he needed to get better security, the man never did. He probably forgot honestly, Jason didn’t think he’d ever met a man quite as busy as Danny. Whether that was because Danny was actually busy or because he didn’t know how to delegate, he wasn’t sure, but he always seemed like- well like Bruce levels of busy. Like he had a job and a secret other job and also he took in random kids and helped everyone he could as much as he could and gave away every part of himself without a second thought.

So. No security system. 

Jason put the food away, some went into the fridge while others went into the freezer, and noticed the apartment felt empty. It would be weird to check if he was in his room but he had a feeling he knew where the man was if not his own home.

Keeping the breakfast casserole and a plate of cookies, Jason swung around the building and landed carefully on the boys’ fire escape. Sure enough, when he peered through the window he found Danny being absolutely drowned in cuddles from Miguel, Santiago, and their cat, Curiosity.

(He’d never admit it but every time he stopped by to drop food off or check in, Jason pet the cats. What? They looked lonely and he wasn’t heartless. He’d been confused and worried out of his mind when he visited for the first time unable to find Curiosity- that cat always came running first so where the ever-loving fuck was he?! But he’d had to leave before finding the orange cat and vowed to find him the next time he visited.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find Curiosity the next time either. He’d come so close to asking Danny where his fucking cat went ((Curiosity was the one who’d been sick when he first found them what if he’d died?!))- should he leave a post-it note asking about the kitten? But again, he’d gotten pulled away by vigilante stuff and had to leave without an answer.

It was only when he’d come over as Jason the tutor that he figured out Danny had given Curiosity to Miguel and Santiago and the cat was over in their apartment most of the time. He was relieved that the cat hadn’t gone missing or died, but now he’d need to stop by and find that cat in their apartment and how had he not noticed the boys had a cat he literally visited their apartment more than Danny’s at this point!)

He slid the window open easily and slipped into the apartment stealthily. None of the boys stirred as Jason quietly put the casserole in the fridge, with a quickly scribbled note on top, and the plate of cookies on the counter. After he finished he moved back towards the window but paused as he sat on the window sill. 

Miguel mumbled something and pushed his face further into Danny’s shoulder and all three of them shifted slightly until their limbs were more entangled than they’d been a moment before and it was hard to tell where one of them started and the others ended. He didn’t know how they didn’t see it- that they were a family- he really didn’t. Danny corrected anyone who called him their dad, they corrected anyone who called them his sons, and yet here they were, cuddling after a traumatic incident where Danny protected them with everything he had.

(He didn’t think about how he and Bruce fit into the exact category he was placing Danny and the boys, he DIDN’T.)

Curiosity chirped and looked around suddenly, seeing Jason and offering him a yawn. That was his cue to leave. He… he didn’t want to, not really. Something about Danny had made him feel safer than anything else had in- in years. The twink he found standing over the body of his murderer, the guy who’d taken on twenty-five goons without a weapon because they’d dared to hurt Miguel, the man he’d pried away from a child molester only hours prior- this was a man anyone would feel safe with.

But Jason wasn’t used to feeling safe and slipping out of the window and grappling back to his own empty and suddenly very lonely apartment was familiar enough. He didn’t feel as safe here as he had in the run down apartment of a practical stranger, but he should. It was his home. He should.

He didn’t sleep.

~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know how to tell him!” She shouted, hands gripping her hair tightly.

“Just tell him. It will all work out.” He responded calmly.

Scoffing and rolling her eyes, she shouted back. “Easy for you to say! If things are going to turn out so well, why don’t YOU tell him? It was your idea after all!”

“It would not do well if I told him, he’d only be angry at me. He has a difficult time being mad at you.” Again, with a calm response.

“He’s not going to take it well- I wouldn’t and I’m literally him!” Dani reasoned.

Clockwork huffed. “You are not ‘literally him’, you are your own person and you have been for years. Do not diminish all of the hard work the two of you have put into being your own people. Tell him.” 

“He’s gonna kill me! It’s not just him anymore- he’s got the boys to worry about you know this!”

“Tell him.” CW responded idly.

Face palming, Dani groaned. “I’m so dead.”

~~~~~~~~~

Shortly after Miguel’s explanation and panic attack, Danny convinced him to take a nap and spent the next few hours cleaning the apartment and putting things in order. He sent out another message saying the daycare would actually be closed for the rest of the week and he’d update the parents as soon as the building was safe enough to open back up. They were surprisingly understanding for people who were being inconvenienced in a big way.

After that he checked his email and reached out to three people who’d applied to the daycare to set up interviews. If all of them worked out he’d have three more full time employees, one who was old enough and experienced enough that he might be able to leave her in charge sometimes. 

By one thirty he realized he didn’t know where his phone was and should really message Jazz and Dani about what had happened. Searching the couch cushions, he found his phone buried under where he’d slept the night before.

(17) Missed Calls

(38) Messages

(5) Voicemails

Well. Shit. Danny started with the voicemails, the first being from Jazz.

“Danny? I saw the news- are you okay? Are the kids okay? It’s all over the news- apparently some kids were out nearby and recorded what happened through the window? Oh my Ancients- call me back Danny!”

She sounded more worried than mad, that was good, he could work with a worried Jazz- and angry one? Not so much. An angry Jazz would tear him apart molecule by molecule until he was nothing but a puddle of separated atoms.

The next one was from Sam.

“Danny Nightingale what the actual FUCK-”

Tucker cut in. “Holy shit dude! Did you actually fucking TACKLE the Scarecrow?”

“Tucker! More importantly- did your clone tackle Scarecrow? Cause the recording got fuzzy after that but not so fuzzy we didn’t notice the GLOWING FUCKING PHANTOM!”

“Sam’s right dude, the cameras caught more than usual- maybe it was because they were farther away? Or just because your energy was being expended keeping a clone around? Not sure, but the videos show a vaguely humanoid vigilante flying around and kicking ass.”

“Call us back Invisio-Bill.”

Okay, so people being able to see Phantom wasn’t great, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t like he planned on going out as Phantom again- he hadn’t come to Gotham to be a vigilante and team up with the birds and bats. Valerie and Wes left similar voicemails to Jazz.

“Can’t even keep off the news as Danny, eh Nightingale? Let me know if you’re okay.”

At least Valerie’s message was teasing and not angry. Seriously, why were all of the women in his life so terrifying when they were angry?

“Dude! So Phantom’s back, huh? And you got to meet Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood? Seriously man- that’s- that’s wild! You know it’s pretty funny that that guy -Duke Thomas- works for you and was there that night because-” There was a loud honking sound cutting him off. “Oh shit, I’ve gotta go, I’ve got a hot date. Let me know you’re okay! Bye Danny!”

The last voicemail was from a number he didn’t recognize but with a Wisconsin area code. 

He deleted it without listening.

The messages were similar to the voicemails, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Wes, Tim, Damian, Jesse, and a few others just checking in. Jason had messaged to cancel their tutoring last minute citing a family emergency- thank Ancients he’d canceled because Danny had completely forgot they’d had an appointment. 

He deleted the text messages from the Wisconsin number he didn’t recognize.

He didn’t care to read them.

At some point people from Amity Park and his past life were going to find out he’d moved to Gotham and set up shop so to speak, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. Maybe after he’d been here for a full year, with an established ‘business’ and connections and friends and whatnot, but not earlier. Even then, he’d hoped the only people who would really notice were peopel who didn’t care that much.

Flash, Pualina, Kwan, people who would go ‘did you hear Danny’s in Gotham now?’ and then have a laugh and move on without reaching out.

He didn’t want to hear from Vlad.

He didn’t want to think about what it meant that Vlad was reaching out.

If Vlad knew where he was then they knew where he was ant that meant he wasn’t safe. Worse- it meant the boys weren’t safe around him. Danny had grown accustomed to his life being in danger at all times a long time ago. He’d grown used to it when lab equipment malfunctioned throughout his childhood, when he’d died, when his parents' security system started targeting him, he’d always known he was in danger at all times. But he was supposed to be the one stable and safe thing about the boys’ lives and he couldn’t be that if he had the GIW and the Fenton’s breathing down his neck.

So, knowing it was something he should have done a long time ago instead of banning ghosts from coming into Amity, Danny sent a text to the group chat.

Crime-Fighting, Night-Stalking Vigilantes

The-Next-Bruce-Wayne: Get in losers we’re going to take down the GIW

The-Next-Bruce-Wayne changed the group chat name from ‘Crime-Fighting, Night-stalking Vigilantes’ to ‘Operation Take Down the Plastics’

Chaos is typing…

TooFine is typing…

Cassandra is typing…

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue is typing…

The Midwest Princess is typing…

And with that taken care of, Danny shot quick responses to his Gotham friends before turning off his phone. He told Tim, Damian, Jesse, and any parents who’d privately messaged him, that he was all right and would be getting the daycare in order as quickly as possible. He messaged Duke to check in and let him know that therapy was included in all of his employees’ benefits and that the teenager should take full advantage of it. 

Jason had first messaged to cancel their scheduled tutoring session and later (much later he noticed) messaged to ask if he was all right and if there was anything he could do to help him or the boys out. Danny apologized for not getting back to him sooner, thanked him for the offer, and returned it due to his own family emergency.

Setting his phone down he started planning how they’d do it. He’d need to talk to Clockwork and the rest of his council about how to go about getting the Justice League on their side. He could do it without them probably, but Danny had a strong suspicion that if he brought the Anti-Ecto-Acts to the JL’s attention, they’d get them abolished faster than any other route they took.

Except for war, maybe.

But Danny had overruled that suggestion years ago and instead banned Ghosts from Amity Park. He couldn’t stop them from coming through altogether or he’d be preventing many of them from their obsessions which was dangerous. It also wouldn’t really be fair to ban them from a place that might have once been their home.

He’d instead cracked down on their behavior. Any ghost who wanted to come to Earth needed to be approved by someone Danny had selected for that exact purpose. They needed to know enough about human culture to not cause chaos everywhere they went. Of course some of them *cough* Skulker *cough* didn’t listen to these rules and still caused chaos on some scale.

It wasn’t a perfect system but it was the best Danny had been able to do while also recovering from severe injuries and learning to be the King of the Infinite Realms. It had been a lot and he could admit that not all of his decisions had been winners.

“Danny?” A voice cut through his thoughts and he realized he’d been sneaked up on.

Offering Santi a smile, Danny moved his feet and offered the spot to the boy. “What’s up Santi?”

“Miguel’s bein’ weird.” He made a face. “What’d you two talk about after I left?”

Licking his lips, Danny tried to decide how much he should share. He didn’t want to break Miguel’s trust by revealing too much, but Santiao deserved to know that Danny knew certain things about their dad and oh god- was this what it was like to be a parent?! “We talked a bit about… about your dad and his feelings. Is he all right?”

Santi nodded slowly. “He’s… fine. Kinda… clingy. Din’t want me ta leave the room but not-” He considered his next words carefully. “Not for the usual reasons.”

Ah, yes. Danny remembered Miguel admitting to never leaving Santiago alone with Danny intentionally and why he did it. A part of him melted to know that Miguel wasn’t worried about that anymore. “Sometimes people need comfort but don’t know how to ask for it. Miguel seems like he might be one of those people.” Danny whispered conspiratorially. “I was like that when I was his age.”

“Danny?” Santiago started hesitantly.

“What’s up kiddo?” 

The boy shifted uncomfortably. “Did Hood… Is- Is my…” He inhaled sharply. “Is my dad dead?”

There was something about the way he asked it that Danny couldn’t put his finger on. His voice was fearful, afraid, worried, and it was also hopeful, anticipating, relaxed and it seemed like he couldn’t figure out which set of emotions were his true feelings.

“Honestly, Santi?” Danny filled his lungs and let out a deep breath. “I don’t know.” He looked the boy in the eyes when he answered, unwilling to miss even a single microexpression. “Hood said he took care of him and I don’t know exactly what that means.”

The boy looked at his hands. “Red Hood kills.”

“Sure, but he doesn’t always kill.” Danny tagged on. 

Santi squirmed as if deciding whether or not to say what he was thinking. Deciding to share his thoughts, the boy looked away from Danny. “He kills people who hurt kids,” Before Danny could respond, he whispered, “an’ rapists.”

Closing his eyes tightly, Danny pushed back the red that threatened to overtake his vision like it had the night before. He wouldn’t go there- couldn’t go there- not again. Hopefully they’d never have to see that piece of shit again. Ancients he hoped Hood had killed him.

“Yeah.” Danny felt his throat drying out by the second.

“Good fuckin’ riddance.” Miguel said from the hallway that led to their rooms.

Santi’s head whipped up to see his brother and they studied each other for a moment before Santi nodded once. “Good fuckin’ riddance.” He decided.

Danny wanted to sit in this moment, bask in the fact that these boys who’d been through hell and back were finally rid of their tormentor emotionally and physically and would be able to heal and move on eventually. But it would seem Hood had other plans for him as he felt the tug in his gut of a personal summoning.

“Shit.” He cursed. The boys looked at him, confused. “Sorry, sorry to ruin the moment.” Danny stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I want to tell you boys something but I don’t really have a lot of time so I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back, okay?”

“What?” Miguel frowned.

The tug in his gut was getting stronger and Danny wished he could ignore it but a personal summoning was pretty difficult to refuse. “Listen, I’m- well- I’m not a meta exactly, but that’s the quickest way to explain it right now and I have to transform and go meet someone who’s calling me right now. Don’t do anything crazy, stay in the apartment please, I should be back in a couple of hours tops, okay?”

“Uh…. Okay…?” Miguel shrugged, looking between his brother and his guardian.

With a nod Danny let the summoning pull him away and transformed before arriving in a shabby alley. 

“I thought we were going to get coffee, eh sugar?”

Prev. Next

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #61 – Mammoths at the Gates by Nghi Vo

This is the latest in my now-extremely-belated attempt to read all the nominees for Best Novella from this year’s Hugos (only need to hunt down a copy of Seeds of Mercury somewhere now!) It was a well-done, enjoyable read – nothing to change your life but, frankly, would have been far more deserving of the prize than Thornhedge was.

This is the fourth in the Singing Hills Cycle, following the itinerant archivist-monk Cleric Chih as they travel across a vaguely Chinese fantasy setting collecting histories and folktales to be collected into the monastery archives. After nearly three years walking the earth, they return to the titalur monastery itself to discover Cleric Thien, a very senior cleric and their own mentor, has died in the intern. Of more pressing concern, two members of their family are outside the gates – one of them a corporal in the Imperial Army with her command of two war-mammoths – demanding their body turned over to buried with their family and ancestors instead of interned in the monastery catacombs. And if that wasn’t enough of a complication Myriad Virtues, Thien’s companion neixin, has been driven to self-mutilation and a total withdrawal by her grief. It is, needless to say, an eventful funeral.

For all that, it’s not a particularly exciting novella, let alone an action-packed one. It’s very much, and very consciously, About Grief in a few different ways. Compared to earlier stories in the series, the narrative is far simpler, with none of the playing around with framing devices, unreliable narrators, or stories-within-stories that have kind of been the cycle’s trademark until now. The freed up space is instead used to make Chih far more of an actual character than they have been previously, rather than just a cipher to experience the narrative happening around them.

I do find myself slightly annoyed at the book because having set out such a genuinely messy and compelling conflict – both on the level of ‘who gets to decide what funerary traditions to follow and where the body is kept, the religious institution or the aristocratic family?’ being the sort of thing that has absolutely started wars, and with ‘who decides how someone should be remembered and grieved, their family or the people they choice to build a life with’ being a theme with a certain amount of contemporary resonance even without the whole thing where clerics are universally refereed to as they/them and Thien’s granddaughters kept insistently referring to them as a man – the book gave itself an easy way out on several different levels. But that’s just me being irritated it isn’t a different story entirely – this is a gentle, elegiac story; the central emotion is the melancholy of quietly organizing a loved one’s things after they’ve passed. On that level it works quite well and is even beautiful at points.

I’ve said before that this series would adapt near-perfectly into a high budget miniseries with a 40-60 minute episode per novella, and I stand by that. If anything, it feels like it’s only getting more true. It does feel like a bit of a loss, though – maybe I’m remembering it as more than it was, but I think Empress of Salt and Fortune had a level of thematic and narrative ambition that all of its sequels have kind of lacked. This and Into the Riverlands especially feel like they exist in a different and...shallower? Simpler? Clearer? Register than the first two entries in the Cycle.

Ah well. It would have to far a long way before it was even in the conversation for most disappointing book I read because of a Hugo nomination. On balance, lovely read with a dog cuddled up beside you on the sofa.

[lover-of-mine]

With the way the season played out + some comments from the actors/team, I really believed this was the year we'd get a end of season with a cliffhanger. Really feels like they could have intended for the bridge scene to be the whole episode and to leave us with at least Bobby's fate in jeopardy. And then changed it to give everyone a somewhat closed ending.

No, because the signs pointed to the bridge being worse than it actually was and personally I think a cliffhanger with a fan-favorite character in danger would be so effective to force a renewal. Like, imagine we get the sneak peek that Bobby is missing and we don't have the confirmation that season 7 is happening? We would've made NOISE to make sure the show got picked up. And I think the show always tries to package the finales nicely, let it end on a hopeful note for most characters, season 1 we had the start of Bathena, Chimney and his party, Karen coming back home, season 2 we had Bathena's wedding and Eddie's shield ceremony, season 3 we have May's graduation, season 4 we have Eddie's party, Hen's picnic with Nia, the Grant-Nash dinner, Albert's graduation, season 5 we have henren wedding and Eddie coming back to the 118, so like, I think it would be nice not to have a happy ending in season 6, leave us wondering, yk? Like, I don't think they have the balls to pull anything bigger than a temporary character death with the core 7, but like, even though we knew Buck was going to wake up, his death still left us on the edge, to put that in a bigger scale would've been a great experience. Like, my original guess was that rescuing Eddie was going to be harder, and that we wouldn't really see Bobby, he was going to fall, byebye see you next season. With what we got, I maintain that Eddie would be harder to rescue, but I think in a Hen would need assistance in the ambulance so it would take longer for Buck to get to him way, so by the time Athena found Bobby and there was the second collapse, you have Eddie and Chim incapacitated, we have Hen the way she was, we have Buck pushing through something (because i still can't believe he walked away from that unharmed okay, unrealistic lskoasokaosk) because Athena just radioed that she found Bobby then everything falls again and the episode ends. And to have Bobby, Chim, and Eddie incapacitated could even open up something with the broader theme they had going around fathers specifically and you could even do something cool with Buck taking charge but struggling, because you have his surrogate father, you have the father of his niece and you have his best friend who made him responsible for a kid in case something happened, so it could have so many cool ramifications all around. And it felt like they were building up to it and then just chickened out. It's like what @sherlockcrossing said, it's a square peg in a round hole. And it's a hole they built because the whole season felt like they were leading up to something that they chose not to deliver. I would much rather have the show not end than to have that attempt to force a happy ending that they could still pick back up next season if there was one.

I am curious really about how they'll pick it back up next season tho. If they'll retcon shit, commit to it, make something happen offscreen to work with. I'm particularly curious about Marisol and Natalia and the way they were building buddie up just to cut that off. But mostly because by the time the show comes back both relationships will be like, going 6 months (depending on the beginning of the season time jump they decide on once the strike ends) if they choose not to give them the Ali treatment, and to add 2 somewhat long relationships for 2 main characters (that a lot of people want together and that were being hinted at more clearly with 6b) with 2 characters we have no reason to be attached to will be a challenge. I guess we'll have to wait.

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

Honestly one of the things that I find really appealing about horror, at least some horror, is that it shows you a way to be alive without being alive in the traditional sense. Because right now being alive means participating in society to some extent. It means having a job, or being expected to have one. It means being expected to have friends and expected to want a family. Being expected to fit in, at least to some extent. Even if you can't or don't want some of these things, there are still a ton of social expectations that are placed upon you from the moment you are born. And that is a lot of pressure to put on a person. It's not easy for everyone to have a job or to fit in. In fact, for a lot of us, it's incredibly difficult. Horror has always shown "the other" so of course it's also going to appeal to people who are "the other" in real life.

But the thing is, it's almost impossible to escape that expectation. It takes ages to even get to a point where you don't care about what most of the world expects of you, and it's pretty much impossible to get rid of others' expectations. And, in the society that we've built, you kinda have to fit in. There are exceptions obviously, but the majority of people have to work a job, often one they don't want or like, just to survive. They have to interact with others. They have to participate in the world in the way they are expected to. It sometimes feels like the only way to escape is to not be alive.

But death is scary. The idea that everything you are, ever have been and ever will be, can just be gone in an instant is terrifying. But here comes the horror genre, showing you a world where someone can be both dead and alive at the same time. It shows you a ghost in a haunted house, who has no job or expectations, but is still able to be in this world and do things. It shows you a vampire, who can live anywhere and not be in danger from anyone, who can essentially do whatever they want. Here's the undead who is literally both alive and dead. To some extent, even real people fit this role of being alive and dead. The killer who everyone thinks is dead, but who very much is still here, just hiding. The outsider who lives in the middle of nowhere that no one knows exists.

Though some horror media does show all of these in traditional society, most of them do not. And that's what's so appealing to horror, in my opinion. The very idea that I can be alive and dead at the same time. Even if in real life I'm not or can't be, it's a bit of escapism and an idea that maybe someday I, too, can achieve both

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

i despise Uncomfortable Realisations so much. there better be chocolate in the house or smth ugh

[morningmask27]

I'm going to be bitching about Star for a while now. I'll tag them all with #asc spoilers, but really what the fuck was this book?

[girlscience]

I hate getting into something that has a canon(ish) sapphic couple, but I only end up caring about one of the two women 😭😭😭

[light-bender]

Never ceases to amuse me that the grown ass men in huge trucks who shout nasty shit at me from their car window always speed up and drive away when I tell them to say that again to my face. Almost like your idea of masculinity has nothing to do with strength at all and is just relying on being the status quo so you can put other people down to make up for your lack of intellect, unfulfilling life, and inability to please a sexual partner. So funny seeing a fem person with a beard l!!! Up until you realize you're only "man" enough to harass them from the safety of your overpriced oversized truck that has never seen a dirt road in its life. But tell me again how your gender isn't performative!!