#i think that would probably solve everything

[comicaurora]

...What happens if I put a full twenty dollars into the urban fantasy vending machine?

it's been on the backburner for over a year, so nothing fresh, but for twenty dollars in the urban fantasy vending machine, here is a short vignette I haven't touched in a year and a half

The room was crisp and bright, all sharp edges and polished monochrome. The sun shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, refracting off the sparkling glass and steel spires that carved out the skyline and focusing with almost suspicious precision directly into my eyeballs. I slumped down further in my chair and squinted across at the empty desk. Everything was too damn bright.

“Can I get you anything, detective?”

The voice that rang out from behind me was innocent and musical. The woman it belonged to was not.

I scowled. “Absolutely not.”

“Suit yourself.” I could hear the indulgent smile. “The coffee’s very good, you know. I don’t settle for anything less than the best.”

“I’m sure.”

“And with a nose like yours, I’m sure you already knew.”

Water boiled, and a rich, bitter scent coiled through the air. It was good. Probably that Blue Mountain stuff, or - no. It had to be Turkish. Of course she’d do Turkish.

I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled harshly. There was no way around it - I was exhausted. I’d hit the 48-hour sleep dep limit back on Saturday and had been burning through raw determination ever since. It was damn stupid of me, frankly. I probably couldn’t even handle arithmetic right now, let alone solve a mystery.

But it’d be real stupid of me to accept a drink from the most notorious poisoner in history, so I was just going to have to deal with it.

I reluctantly opened my eyes and the world blurred back into focus as a tall figure briefly eclipsed the dazzling display of sun-sparkled skyscrapers. A coffee cup settled on the desk with a soft clink. There was a rustle as she settled into the high-backed chair and leaned forward. The sun caught in her golden braided bun and played across the shoulders of her elegant black suit. Pale, slender hands clasped the coffee cup with practiced precision.

“So,” Medea said. “How can I help you today?”

Her eyes were honey-gold. Granddaughter of Helios, the myths had said, and the sun certainly seemed to be in the habit of favoring her. Her corporate empire dealt in energy. Geothermal, hydroelectric, solar, even nuclear - all those shiny, clean alternatives that were slowly outcompeting the old oil-burning models. Her power stations were already keeping the lights on for half of the eastern united states. It was a hell of a niche she’d carved out for herself, and like everything else she’d ever done, she was stunningly good at it. Then again, for a demigod princess and compulsive social climber, the world of corporate politics must’ve felt like a home away from home.

Her gaze was steady and level, like I wasn’t cutting into her busy workday. Like she had all the time in the world.

Well. She did, didn’t she?

I sighed. “There’s a new drug on the streets.”

“Is it Tuesday already?”

“This one’s different.” I rubbed my eyes. “Right now, they just think it’s a hallucinogen.”

“And?”

“It’s not. It shows what’s really there.”

The coffee cup froze halfway to her lips. “How much?”

“Can’t tell for sure. Sounds like they’re seeing fairies, sprites, goblins, standard hidden world stuff… but I’m pretty sure it cuts through glamour. Might even go deeper, start showing shifter’s true forms.” I leaned back. “The secret world won’t stay secret for long if the users and abusers start comparing notes. I was half-tempted to take some of the stuff myself just to find out how much they know, but I’m not exactly a neutral test subject.”

“Yes, between your physiology and your temperament, that would be very unwise.” The clink of her cup cut off my half-hearted retort. “Do you have any mortal friends who might be willing to take the plunge?”

I barked a bitter laugh. “All my mortal friends are wizards or cops.”

“Unfortunate. I see why you came to me.” She leaned back, lacing her fingers together. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Damn. Damn. Why was I surprised?

“That kind of potion isn’t really my style anyway,” she said. “Illusions and the breaking thereof are rather… outside my typical wheelhouse.”

“I know, I know.” I rubbed my eyes again. “I didn’t think you were making the stuff. I just hoped maybe you knew something. Nobody knows where it’s coming from.”

“The Goblin Market?”

“Obviously some people are dealing it through there, but I don’t have a supplier.”

“Tricky.” She leaned back. “What’s the delivery method?”

“That’s the weird part. It’s topical.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Unusual. No ingestion or injection?”

“No.” I dug into my jacket pocket and pulled out the scuffed stainless steel tin, then dropped it on her desk. “Kid up in Wicker Park saw me, dropped this and ran. Broad daylight. I wasn’t even changed.”

“You do cut an intimidating figure regardless.”

I scowled. “I don’t know what he saw.”

She nodded once, then gestured at the tin. “Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.” I sank deeper into the chair.

She delicately picked up the tin and traced a nail around the lid. “The container is mundane.”

“Yep.”

She turned it in her hands, the battered metal catching the light. Then she cracked the lid.

I braced myself and squeezed my eyes shut. The smell was overwhelming and utterly unidentifiable - syrupy, sickly, wormwood and petrichor and rot. The headache I’d been nursing intensified.

I heard her sniff. Lucky woman. She had to try to smell the stuff.

“Otherworldly ingredients.” There was a click and the smell dissipated. I risked cracking an eye open. She’d replaced the lid and was staring at the container pensively.

“What do you think?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Maybe I should be asking you. If I want to identify the makeup of an unknown mixture, I need a full lab and the favor of Hekate. You just need your nose.”

I groaned. “All I know is it’s weird and I hate it.”

“Weird?”

“Weird! I can’t pin it down. It almost smells like something, but” - I waved my hands vaguely - “it’s all wrong.”

Medea stared for a moment, then set down the tin. “Detective, have you ever been to fairyland?”

“I assume you’re not being euphemistic,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“No. I’m referring to the realm of fairy. Built on the ruins of Tír na nÓg, ruled by the Fairy Queen, land of glamour and illusion, home of the people of the hills. You must be familiar.”

“Of course I am.”

“But you’ve never been there?”

“I don’t do otherworld travel if I can help it.” I sat up. “Why?”

Medea idly traced a finger over the tin. “The bones of the fairy realm are very real, but for the most part, the realm is a beautiful illusion starving for reality. Your senses are entranced by a perfect, glamorous experience, but your body and soul waste away. Surely you’re familiar with the harmful effects of fairy food?”

“On paper.” I glanced at the tin. “You think this is some kind of illusion?”

“Just the opposite.” She tapped the lid sharply. “Fairyland is nothing more than the eternal dream of the Fairy Queen, but Tír na nÓg is as real as you or I. A land of promise and plenty, lost to ruin when its link to this world withered away. Its denizens fading to shades, its fruits and flowers rotting and decaying where they grew.”

I frowned. “This… this isn’t your area. Why do you know so much about this?”

She sighed. “Really, detective. Did you really think, over three thousand years, I stayed entirely in the mediterranean?”

“No, of course not-“

“After my flight from Athens I broadened my horizons significantly. I have visited the realm of Fairy several times.” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course, after the Tír fell to ruin, the quality of ingredients I could acquire plummeted rather dramatically. Gossamer illusions make for poor potions.”

I tried to cut through the fog in my head. Things were coming together. “You… think this was made in fairyland?”

“I think it was, at minimum, made from fairyland.”

“The smell… is odd. Like a floral perfume gone wrong. Rot making everything sweeter.” I scowled. “Not an illusion. Illusions don’t smell that bad.”

“Good,” she said. “Then some industrious denizen appears to have scoured the far edges of Fairyland to acquire ingredients from the ruins of the Tír.”

[sufferu]

A major problem I see with your dogshow and your back to zero stories is the fact that there appears to be no end to the tunnel of despair.

specifically I am talking about Subaru’s mental stability and your fascination for removing a central pillar of his mental system.

I see no other outcome for him not to suffer a complete mental collapse like he did in episode fifteen.

for your dogshow fic it is worse because both he and his “friends” saw everything that he went through and should know how much being loved through the position of being a knight is good for him.

even if they are focused on the actual issue of tossing him out to the front lines.

I personally believe that Subaru needs to be a hero/knight or something like a dog or sex toy for Emilia or else he is forced to confront the horrible reality of his friends being assholes who killed him on mere whims.

I don’t think that Subaru can ever recover from another catatonic state. The only reason why he did was because Petelguese had provoked wrath from Subaru and the spirit is no longer alive.

for back to zero it’s has a better chance of Subaru not going catatonic because it is set before the whale and witch cult, so there’s always the possibility of the whale and witch’s cult not acting like they did last time.

of course there is the problem that once they start losing one of the random soldiers would decide to kill Subaru to reset the encounter like he was the cosmic reset button.

thus why I called your story torture porn because despite your claims that it be happier for Subaru eventually, all I see is the angst without a happy ending.

I assume that you are going for a tragedy story where the characters are trying to solve problems but they can’t get past their mistakes.

however I personally believe that re zero is already a tragedy/lovecraftian-psychological horror story and that adding even more to that is needlessly cruel to everyone involved.

I don’t read a lot of tragedy but I assume that there is a through line of action that the characters can take to make everything better but don’t take it for some reason.

for your stories, I don’t see anything like this. All I see is “And things get even worse.”

seriously Subaru basically has no life lines left after Wilhelm removed Subaru from being a knight.

what is stopping him from just giving up on life after basically being disowned by everyone?

…You know what? That is a valuable outside perspective, so thank you.

But I will say: we seem to have VERY different ideas about what would be a “happy ending” in a story like this, because the ending that you just told me is one that I would less describe as “happy” and more as “full of soul-crushing despair.”

Subaru remaining a knight/hero for the rest of his natural life after everyone learns that doing so is basically sentencing him to indescribable torment for the rest of his days, purely because that is the only way he can conceive of being loved by other people — how is that HAPPY? And using it as a distraction in order to run from the realities exposed by Return By Death — how is that healthier than confronting said realities outright? If I WERE to write a tragedy, I’d likely end this story much in the way that you just described: where everything was too much to deal with and so everyone decided to remain in stasis forever while turning a blind eye to the suffering at the core of it all, Ones Who Stay In Omelas style. Tragedies aren’t really my style, though, so I AM writing towards a happy ending — though I’m not spoiling what it is, for No Refunds OR Back to Zero. (Though really, you could probably guess a good chunk of at least the former already.)

But like — without spoilers, yeah, something like this would probably break him. That doesn’t mean he has to STAY broken. Sometimes you have to re-break a bone so that it heals correctly. Sometimes you have to tear down something you worked hard on because there’s a critical fault in the foundations that could destroy everything if left unchecked. Sometimes bandaids need to be ripped off.

And also — yeah, everyone is PISSED at Subaru at the moment (post-ficlet). But who the hell said that they didn’t love him anymore?

[wandixx]

You'll never find the aswers ch.3

Words in this part: 5155

Story summary: M'gann was having an amazing day. She met with her civilian friends, drank an amazing smoothie, saw a cute dog. For a few hours, she didn't have to think about problems that took more than 20 minutes to solve. For a few hours, she could just be Megan.

And then there was a scream of a woman, mother, who thought too loud and faded too fast and M'gann wasn't enough to save her and it made her whole world come crashing down

And then Danny found her, with a soft smile and patient voice. He kneeled beside her to pick up the pieces.

And shards cut them both in the process.

This part summary: Team watches an action movie (it goes wrong), M'gann trains, Conner would like to not hear stuff sometimes and Danny explores Ghost Zone

Trigger warnings: Flashbacks, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatered (I think? M'gann blames herself for the death from frist chapter and it's prominent in her internal monologue), Self-Harm (in form of overtraining), Sensory overstimulation, Mentions of death and afterlife, Infinity

first chapter, previous chapter

They were having a movie night. Danny wasn’t there, but it wasn’t unexpected. He often couldn’t make it to the training. Relaxation, like movie nights, was obviously out. M’gann wasn’t sure what they were watching. She wouldn’t be there too, forcing her telekinesis past its limits, if it wasn’t too out of character for her and therefore would without a shadow of the doubt worry everyone. She told Danny not to tell anyone specifically because she wanted to avoid that. They had better things to do, especially since she was fine. She couldn't eat, sleep, or bring herself to do many things, but she was fine enough so that nobody should be inconvenienced. Fact that Danny found out was unexpected, and she was a little mad at herself that she was glad it happened. He probably had the most on his plate among all Team members, he didn’t deserve to be burdened with her mess too.

But it was nice to have someone listen to everything. It was freeing.

There were three enormous bowls of popcorn on the table, each already half empty. From experience, M’gann knew someone will need to make more at some point during the movie. They had Wally on the crew, after all.

She usually liked the smell of popcorn, it was quite nice and somewhat soothing, but that day it just made her nauseous.

She was trying to focus, really. It wasn’t like she had much else to think about. She shouldn’t struggle with following the simple storyline of an action movie about some guy going out of his way to get revenge because of something, something. But her mind couldn’t get on with the program.

She refocused again, just as the music grew louder and first gunshots exploded from speakers. She should look at least a little bit engaged, and from the years of experience with human media she learned some little tricks they used. Loud music meant Important MomentTM.

The hero of the story, whose name M’gann still didn’t know, looked younger, in an artificial, CGI way. Not wrong enough to make humans feel wrong, probably, but enough to be seen. He was surrounded by The Bad People. Man was fighting, three versus one, as if he tried to be a knock-off Batman. At some point, one attacker broke off and kicked down the door to the other room. Someone screamed and despite its clear fakeness, M’gann tensed. Too close, too close. The Bad Guy dragged someone outside by the hair, one person in each hand. Protagonist's wife and daughter. There was some yelling, but the world started slipping again so M’gann didn’t remember what was being said. Main character threw himself at the man with a gun, ignoring the knife lodged in his shoulder.

BANG, BANG.

Hero punched the gun out of the bad guy’s hands, but it was too late. There were no blown out brains or anything because the movie was PG13, but it was clear enough. Wife and child were dead. M’gann couldn’t breathe.

She too had been a few steps away, then she held the cooling body like a heartbroken man on the screen and- and-

“I‘m going to make more popcorn,” she stuttered, gripping tightly onto the edge of the bowl. She almost flew out of the room with her haste to leave before anyone had a chance to respond.

She crashed into the first room she found, falling to her knees as soon as the door started closing.

Scream pierced her ears, high and terrified before the noise of the body hitting something at high speed.

She should’ve seen it coming, she should’ve saved them, she should be better.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her hands spasmed, letting go of something. It clattered on the floor.

She barely felt her head bang on the door when she flinched.

She flinched away when the woman gurgled, when she tried to say something.

She couldn’t breathe. There were dark spots blinking and racing around her.

Hot asphalt was burning her exposed knees when she brushed hair away from the woman's eyes.

She was watching life leaving her eyes, and she couldn’t do anything. Nobody and nothing held her back, but she was too weak and blind to save this one life. So precious and important.

Her forehead touched down on the cool, rough floor, warm breaths forced her to blink. She wrapped her hands around her stomach as if the pressure would change anything.

Her cheeks were wet, tears creating patches of water on the tile.

She wondered if the little boy, too, was crying right then. She could ask when they meet. If he would look her in the eyes after she confessed to killing his mom.

The chill spreading through her face and her numbing legs brought her back a bit. Busy streets of Detroit were quieter, August's overwhelming heat let go a bit, so Mountain’s cool air brushed against her sweat-covered skin. She wasn’t suffocating on the stench of overheating asphalt. She remembered grounding techniques Black Canary taught them. She started breathing in a long forgotten, long ingrained pattern. It wasn’t hard. She could do it. She could at least do this.

In, 2- out-

In, 2, 3- out, 2-

In, 2, 3- out, 2, 3-

In, 2, 3, 4, ho- out, 2, 3, 4-

In, 2, 3, 4, hold, 2- out, 2, 3, 4, 5-

She was getting better, she could at least do this better. She could at least breathe.

That woman couldn’t anymore and it was all M’gann’s fault.

In, 2, 3, 4, hold, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, out,2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

She got this. She was alright.

She stood up, her legs a bit wobbly from the long sitting. With a surprise muted by unexpected exhaustion she realized she crashed in a conference room, one of the only left, that was insulated against superhearing. It was good that she did. She didn't want to unnecessarily worry Conner.

She raised the plastic bowl from the ground and opened the door. She was alright.

She went to the kitchen, already calling a pack of microwaveable popcorn to her. She had to make a fresh batch. That's why she left after all.

She returned to the Team, smiling like her chest didn’t still feel too small for the breaths she needed to take. She was alright.

She had to be alright.

***

Thud, thud, thud

Her hands ached from repetitive attacks on a Kryptonian grade punching bag. It would be reduced to shreds if it was any less durable.

It was dark around. She turned light off when they became too grating for her eyes. Around hour and a half into her training if she recalled correctly. A little over two hours ago if the blaring red clock on a far away wall qnd her ability to count were to be believed.

Big, fitting five people without a trouble, couch was flying up an down, like a ball tossed by a bored kid.

She was right under it.

Her control began to be shaky. She used her telekinesis for too long. She couldn't stop now. She needed to push harder. There was some nice human metaphor or something for it, she remembered from her English classes. Impending doom of a dead thing, sword probably, right over ones head.

There was no part of her that wasn't in pain. Good. Training was supposed to hurt. She deserved it. She deserved much worse than that. Muscles needed to break to regrow stronger anyway. She needed to be better.

If she'd been good enough before, this woman would be safe. Would be alive. So she needed to be faster. Stronger. She needed to be better.

Thud, thud, thud

Her breathing was heavy, labored. There were spots in her vision and sweat on her brows.

Couch slipped from under her control and started falling.

She caught it before it crashed into her.

Thud, thud, thud

Right hook, left uppercut, sidekick, sidekick, sidekick, left hook.

Tapes on her hands have gotten bloody at some point. She stopped punching to flex her fingers for a moment. They trembled from exhaustion and ached when she moved them. Her whole body did. She took a deep breath.

She didn't deserve a break yet. Not until she was good enough.

Thud, thud–

“Meg?” a quiet question rang from behind her, muffled by the closed door.

–thud

Go away, she was busy.

Thud, thud, thud

“Hi Danny“ she called out, not stopping her exercise.

“I know you didn't expect me but I had a moment so I dropped by,” he continued, failing to hide strain and shakyness of his voice. She knew he was lying even without feeling his emotions. He came specifically for her, because she was a mess and couldn't even handle it properly on her own. He forced himself to use Zeta Tubes if she had to guess.

Thud, thud, THUD

“Meg? Can I come in?”

No. No, he couldn't.

She would prefer he didn't. He would try to stop her, tell her it wasn't her fault and bunch of other lies. And she would snap at him like she snapped at Wally for simple sin of being in the same room as her, and then she would yell and force Danny to spar and–

THUD, THUD, THUD

She didn't deserve a friend like that. She didn't deserve friends at all. She just kept lying to them or forcing them to lie for her or hurt them even though she didn't want to.

She didn't deserve friends. She was just going to ruin them all.

“Meg, I can’t hear your answer. Are you alright in there?”

Why did he keep being so nice?!

THUD, THUD, THUD

Couch slipped again. She caught it much lower than before. It probably was some sort of sign to her but she was content living it unread.

“Meg, you’re worrying me, I'm coming in!”

She twisted to face door so fast she couldn't see anything other than colorful dots for a moment. It was a miracle she stayed upright. Before she could yell “No!” the door opened with a low hiss.

There was bright, cold light in the corridor. Danny was just a frozen, dark outline surrounded by it, in a narrow rectangle of doorway, looking every bit like angels she saw in some movies. Eternal, delicate, helpful, good. A being of heavens.

After so long in the darkness, white glow sent a strike of unimaginable pain all the way from her eyes. Her brain cleared, leaving only an agony, burning along her nerves. Her eyelids moved, her hands tried but couldn’t, to shield her but it was already too late.

Somebody screamed.

“M'GANN!“ another voice yelled in panic but all she could focus on was how it was too bright and now it was also too loud and everything hurt so much and she couldn't even raise her hands to protect her eyes, or squeeze her temples or do anything about it and she kinda wanted to cry and–

Somebody slammed into her, fast, tackling her to the ground. She yelped, bracing for a new pain of crashing into training mats but it never came. Whoever attacked her twisted so she ended up on top. There was a low grunt from under her on the impact.

Thunderclap shook the floor from somewhere behind them.

She turned her head, much slower this time and forced her eyes to open. It was harder than it should be. She stared at the remnants of the couch with disbelief.

She had been standing there few seconds ago.

Breath got trapped in her throat and couldn't escape. She nearly died. She was almost crushed under a goddamn couch.

“Hey, Meg, are you okay? I'm sorry I rushed like that, I kinda panicked when I saw a couch falling. Why was it even up there?”

“Training,“ she answered distantly, still straing at the ruined furniture. Broken wooden frame stuck out of mess of plush and fabric. Whole thing was almost unrecognisable. Even engineering genius like Danny wouldn't be able to fix. Anger started to stir deep inside her. Why did he even come?!

“Okay… this is certainly an efficient technique, but it's freaking dangerous, you realized that, right?”

“I would be fine if you didn't distract me,” she snapped, rolling off of him and standing up. She needed to wait out some minor dizziness but after that she was ready to continue her training.

Confusion flashed across Danny's face before he also got up with a resigned sigh.

“Sorry, I was worried because I couldn't hear you”

“You have literal super hearing! You didn't need to come in!” she yelled. He could at least be honest with her, if he had to be overbearing.

“I di–”

“You called out Wally on the bluff based on his heartbeat literally yesterday! You liar!“ she threw the first punch. If he had to interrupt her, he could at least spar.

“Base has been ghost-proofed recently so my powers don't work in different rooms,” he said tiredly, dodging her without much effort.

“Why would it be ghost-proofed inside?!” If he had to lie, he could at least come up with something that made more sense. She knew he could so it was just insulting.

“Officially to make any enemy infiltration harder but unofficially I'm almost sure Batman just didn't like when I scared the shit out of him when I phased through the wall right behind him,” he explained with a cheeky grin. Insufferable.

“Stop joking around you idiot!” she screamed, throwing a piece of destroyed coach at him.

“Now, chill the hell out, M’gann“ he dropped down to dodge it and tried to swipe her.

“I was doing something important and you came in like it was nothing!” She floated and tried to kick him in the head but stopped her with his forearm. His limbs were trembling even before her shin connected to them.

“I didn’t–”

“You almost broke Artemis’ arm and she just tried to wake you up fro a nap, you hypocrite!”

Danny froze for a moment and then yelped when she managed to kick him in the ribs. It wasn't a strong kick but it surprised him anyway. He deflated like a punctured tyre.

“I didn’t want to and I was barely sane from exhaustion,“ he admitted, barely louder than a whisper, as if he shared some secret.

He didn’t say anything after that and didn't try to punch back. She punched and punched and punched. And he just dodged or blocked or went intangible like it was a game. M’gann screeched, wordless and furious, throwing all her weight at him. Danny caught her out of the air and restrained, keeping her close to his chest. She tried to break free, lashing out and screaming and whipping her head in fruitless attempts to smash his nose.

“I'm worried about you, Meg” he whispered, so full of concern and sadness and M’gann just wanted to scream again because she just had to do better and there was nothing to worry about and she was still too weak to evade simple hold and, and, and–

“Get off my back Danny, I'm fine!” she yelled back, trashing with more vigor than before.

“Are you?”

M’gann froze. She was fine, she knew it and she should say ‘yes, of course, I can take care of myself, who do you think I am’ but words couldn't leave her mouth. She took a breath, deeper than she did in long time but normal from outside perspective. Her fingers began aching again, adrenaline fading way faster than it should.

Danny released her from his hold and gently turned her around, raising his head a bit to look her in the eyes.

“I need to train more.”

“Later” Danny murttered, carefully taking one of her hands in his “Muscles grow when you let them rest. Same with neuronal connections responsible for learning. Rest” His fingers were freezing, way cooler than they usually were, as he swiftly unwrapped her hands, cold trail easing some pain and preventing bruises from forming.

M’gann didn’t deserve it. She didn't deserve it so much.

It took her a long moment to realize that a sob she heard came from her throat. In the meantime, she wasn't sure when, Danny freed her other hand and now held her palms in his, gently rubbing her knuckles.

“I got you Meg. I got you. You can cry now”

So she did.

***

Conner felt like sometimes his teammates forgot he could hear things. He wasn't too mad about it, they sometimes forgot their own powers (just Danny actually) or walked into walls hoping they would unlock powers they had no reason to believe they would get right then (just Wally to be honest).

Anyway, since he lived in the Team's Base full time, he heard quite a lot of stuff he probably wasn't supposed to hear. Shared secrets, ‘that one person at my school’ discussion, talks about insecurities… he was privy on everything. School was obviously hundred times worse in this regard but also, nobody could expect them to know they should keep their voices low. Even if sometimes he really wanted to yell in the middle of the corridor or break into radiostation (if his school had one) to make such announcement. He knew far more about cheerleaders’ and baseball players’ bodies than he'd like to. But he couldn’t because secret identities and stuff. But Team should know better. It wasn't something he held against them, afterall he forgot about some things Danny could do too, but one would think they'd be better at it.

But what brought this onto his mind wasn't another ‘keep it under the hat’ type of conversation. It was repetitive, migraine inducing thudding from the training area that had been going on without a break for the last two hours. He held back a sigh and tried to focus back on his homework. Wally dropped by for a study session so they weren’t in blessedly soundproofed rooms. M’gann’s training and her sobs were beginning to be a bit too much, especially when combined with electric current innthe walls, and dishwasher working through all the plates speedster needed to fit his snacks, and upbeat music redhead played on the speakers to “lighten up” the mood and help himself focus, and heartbeats and whatever he called life sounds of Red Tornado in his work room, and rush of everyone's blood and sound of air in the lungs, and AC and whatever festivities were happening in Happy Harbor city center and–

Pencil snapped in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, his mind still trying to comprehend what actually just happened. Wally turned off his music and ran off for barely linger than a blink, returning with Fenton-made, Bat-approved headphones that let him rest, making him hear a little bit worse than a healthy human teenager would (“I'll fix it” Danny muttered after the first roundnof tests). Speedster also brought him new pencil. Conner grunted because speaking felt like really bad idea despite world being already blessedly muted. They both knew he was grateful.

“You still up to homework?“

He nodded and read the question again, finally able to focus enough to understand it.

As he worked through his question sheet he wondered what he should do about M’gann. Obviously with headphones on he couldn't actually hear her but there was no doubt she'd keep going until someone told her to stop or she collapsed. He knew she wasn’t realy good at taking breaks since she started her intense routine few weeks ago. He heard it. On the other hand, he wasn't really good at this whole people interaction stuff and Wally with his fast mouth and unrestrained cheer wasn't good for this situation either. She was crying, it wouldn’t do any good if either of them messed up.

It was probably time when he should go to Black Canary and snitch. Or call Danny. He seemed to be really helpful all the previous times. M’gann would probably use talking with either of them.

Yeah, he would tell whoever he would meet first. It was probably not good for M’gann to keep going like that.

***

“Excuse me, has this lady appeared here lately? She died about two weeks ago”

Danny was sure that here was where he'd find her. He had all he'd need, her photo name, and photo of her grave, because apparently some ghost found it more helpful. He'd find her here. He was su–

“No, I don’t think anyone like that appeared here lately“

Alright, but it had to be it–

“Never seen her”

Here–

“I don't think she would be around here, have you tried Akhirah?“

“Yes, I did”

There was no way she wasn’t–

“Nope”

He had to find her, she had to be–

“Unfortunately no, have a good luck though“

It wasn't likely but–

“Fuck off punk before I make you”

“I don't want to fight you, I just need to find her, is she here?”

“Does it look like a place for someone with such basic-ass grave?”

Danny carefully didn’t think about the implications of the existence of the grave shaming culture among some ghosts. He carefully didn’t yell that this woman's family (just her son and wasn't that absolutely awful) didn't have money for the funeral so it was funded by whoever was legally obliged to do it. He carefully didn't cry that yet another place turned out to be fluke.

“–Another useful tool hides under the NURSE acronym. Each letter stands for Name, Understand, Respect, Support, Explore. Name means identifying the emotion–”

Level voice of the podcast lady grew more and more frustrating with each following hour he spent listening but he needed to get through it all before he met M’gann again. He couldn't mess it up and he would do it if he continued navigating the situation completely blind. He needed even the littlest amount of actual knowledge he could get.

It didn't meant that the urge to get the earphone out of his ear and chuck it somewhere in the bottomless green wasn't there or wasn't strong. He would risk losing his phone though, he wasn't sure whether hold of his pocket was stronger than the hold of his earphones wire on his phone.

At least it was good halfa-biology-kinda-sucks day (week, to be completely honest). His lungs didn't forget to breathe, his heart kept beating, his core hummed at the correct frequency instead of mimicking his heart, his ectoplasm kept in shape, his digestive system didn't get major failure… His body, no matter what form, didn't actually sabotage him in some time. It didn’t feel particularly well either, but he was going to cling to these silver linings like his sanity depended on them. Maybe it really did.

His finger twitched. Pencil, which he used to cross off potential places where he could probably find the victim, creaked in a slightly concerning manner. He hid it in the same pocket that he put his notebook in mere seconds earlier. It would do him no good if he lost either just because he forgot he was holding it (which happened embarrassingly many times in the last few weeks). He had approximately two and half hours before he arrived at his next-guess location, according to directions from the last helpful (but really annoying) ghost he met, who spent about an hour talking his ear off about how fascinating Ghost Zone geography was and, on the less annoying note, helped him sort all remaining places so he wouldn’t fly back and forth.

There was nothing around him. Ghost Zone, despite how lawless and chaotic it seemed, was fairly similar to space. It had rules that were often just hard to grasp by small human mind, had lots of beauty, once you managed to get over the constant threat of death, and had empty spaces. Tone of empty spaces. Space seemed crowded from the surface but as a nerd Danny was, he knew mostly it was void of anything. Closest star other than the Sun is as 4.25 light years or 24 984 092 897 479 miles away from Earth, closest planet, Mars is 140 000 000 miles away, Sun is as far as 92 955 807 miles and light, the fastest thing in the universe, travels it in eight minutes. Observable space is a sphere with radius of approximately 13,5 billion light years because these distances were so great that even light with its unimaginable speed needed all the time since Universe started, to travel from its source to the Earth. And it still haven't met anything on its way so it could hit humans telescopes or eyes.

Ghost Zone was really similar. Danny knew he was traveling through relatively densely inhabited area, designated Earth Sector where every dead of every race, religion, culture and generation had their own little place to spend their afterlifes. But it was still so empty at times. There were places like the one he was at the moment, where for miles and miles, as far as he could see there was nothing and no one. They were unsettling in a way, making him feel too small and dangerously exposed which was stupid because what made him feel that way was the fact that there was nobody who could make use of this fact. For miles and miles and miles. He tried to fly as fast as he could he was too exhausted to make it really matter and it wasn't sprinting distance anyway. He needed to preserve his strength. He wouldn’t make it to the Mars sector without Speeder anyway especially if Ghost Zone kept the proportions for distances between planets. Dang it, if only he could contact Wulf and get his help with teleportation. But alas, werewolf went into hiding and wasn't likely to just conveniently pop up into existence.

Danny thought he deserved at least one ‘convenient coincidence’ for all the bullshit he's been through lately.

Since he was only being for many, many miles, he let himself drop a few frustrated tears and voice a quiet sob.

First, since they didn't know anything about the woman, he had to go through way too many necrologies, where he searched for everyone with “Loving mother” but not “Beloved grandmother“ and was in right age group to have eight to twelve years old son. There were distressingly many women like this. After almost two weeks of work, he managed to narrow his search down to five ladies. Then he accessed accident reports from Detroit's Police Department. He send himself in catfish email to do it and he still found it… telling, that it actually worked. He shouldn't be able to do it, without too much problem. He should be in enough mess to need Tucker's help and be annoyed he couldn't get it. Team matters were supposed to stay between the Team after all, and he had no way of explaining why he needed to hack anything in the freaking Detroit of all places without bringing up at least some Team matters. And Robin was out because M’gann specifically asked him to not tell Team about it and, again, how else was he supposed to explain that he needed to find this one dead woman who coincidentally died the same day M’gann visited. Anyway, while he committed his minor cyber crimes he saw many things he didn't want to see ever again. Homicide. Rape. Fratricide. Clinically described stories of people dead, injured, traumatized, abused. Many without resolve because of lack of evidence or cop's negligence. Some part of him wondered if he should try solving some of them with the help of ghosts before more people got hurt. It would be a good, heroic thing to do.

And then he realized that he would have to sacrifice his remaining three hours of sleep to pull it off and he was already sacrificing it with this trip because Ghost Zone was empty like Dash’s brain and he wasn't going to make it home to eat breakfast before school probably, but he needed to check it out asap and Speeder was in repair for some reason, that was probably just his parents adding next safety hazard of the Ghost weapon on top of it, and he was tired of it, and tired of the traveling and searching, and he found right victim’s info, and of course it was three days after the funeral and now he needed to find her find her, and he only knew her name, how was he supposed to know which afterlife she’d go to, so he was flying around like a headless chicken and the idea of letting it all go and falling for eternity to the bottom of the Zone was more and more tempting with every second, fighting vehemently his fear of infinity and he had no idea how this lady would even react to him asking her for this favor and if he found her soon and she was mad about her death, he didn't even have an energy to talk her down or fight or anything really and why was it even his responsibility, why had he promised M’gann to keep jer secret, why hadn't he snitched to Black Canary first time he saw her amd podcast lady kept saying smart, useful things that he didn’t even register and he wanted to both crank her voice up so she'd make him feel less alone and drowning and crush his earphones or phone to never hear her again and, and andandand–

He screamed so loud it would break things if there was anything around it wouldn't, it wasn't his wail but he needed to feel powerful at the moment and ruffled his hair for a good thirty seconds, scratching scabs on his scalp in both painful, uncomfortable and somehow soothing manner.

He needed out. He needed out.

He needed to just not be in this situation for a moment, to close his eyes and don't think, he needed someone to help him out because he was drowning.

He needed an out.

He didn’t have an out. He fucking didn’t have and out.

He let himself cry a bit, curled as small as he could, surrounded by an unforgiving vastness of th3 Ghost Zone that seemed to press on him from every direction as if he was under high pressure and stared at despite him being so utterly alone.

“–Explore part aims to understand what our interlocutor finds the most important, what they need and what they fear–”

He dried his tears. He had a task to complete and school to attend right after. Mr. Lancer was getting really annoyed by his English naps.

“Excuse me, have you seen her around?“

“No, sorry”

******

I need you all to understand, to me at least partially the reason why Conner is so pissed in season 1 is because world is so overwhelmingly loud. 'm sure that Cadmus was somewhat soundproof, otherwise Superman or someone would find them much earlier. So now he is out and it's wonderful and so much better than he thought it would be but also he suddenly went from hearing everyone in a building (though pretty big one) to hearing everyone in the city and it's not something you can just brush off. Hence, the headphones. He doesn't wear them all the time though, because he wants to get used to noise.

As for Ghost Zone, for the purpose of this fic it's kinda like crossroads between various afterlives. You can't go to where you're spending rest of your infinity without getting through Ghost Zone and ghosts we meet in dp are either too scared to leave, designated administrators or actually in their afterlives and technically it's not a Ghost Zone anymore. So, in this fic Ghost Zone and nfinite Realms are not synonymous. In this scenario Ghost King (not Danny) isn't boss of all bosses as I've seen in few places, but more like a guy in control of Sues Channel or some other important trade road. They aren't an outright physical danger to your territory and citizens nor are they someone you'd think about often but if they freak out for some reason you're fucked.

AO3 link

Next part

[lovely-p-issues]

Okay, you've made me realise that I misspoke in my previous response (and I used italics incorrectly lmao)

I'll start with the most important one - yes, I do think that until the very end Ody saw Eurylochus as his friend (as you wrote, he literally appears as a ghost alongside his mum and Polites)

However. I think this relationship was incredibly damaged by everything that happened, and these most important relationships have a way of being strengthened by tragedies. That's why, despite all my love for this character, after everything he and Ody did to each other, I could never vote for him

But I just need to address your really good points and how I look at it

sacrificing the crew

Yes, my mistake, abandoning the crew on the island of Kirke could be called reasonable - I meant rather to point out that sacrificing six men was also essentially the best tactic for survival, in a situation where you are in the middle of nowhere, chased by a god of sea and have to sail somewhere (but surely there is something much darker about deliberately choosing the death of six men than refusing to save them, even if it was ultimately to reduce the bloodshed associated with pointless battle)

(just to be clear, none of these decisions lie with my general view on the world, they are simply comparable in my eyes)

My point was rather that, of all people, Eurylochus could understand Odysseus - he himself was prepared to do something very similar, yet he completely ignored it and started a mutiny (I wonder now if the crew ever found out that Eurylochus had refused to save them…)

Nor does Eurylochus ever deny this plea by Odysseus in Mutiny:

Don't make me fight you, brother, you know you'd have done the same If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame

I interpret this as Eurylochus saying "that's true, but at the end of the day it was you who made that decision, so we can blame you for this"

while we're on Mutiny….

I just remembered how annoyed I was that the moment the crew, headed by Eurylochus, realised how badly they had screwed up, they immediately turn to Odysseus. Odysseus, whom they had just removed from power, thinking they knew better.

In a normal situation, I wouldn't put up with telling a person close to me very clearly ‘don't do that, there will be consequences’, but when it actually happens, they look at me, expecting me to somehow solve the problem

Eurylochus's advice

Did Odysseus need a man who could pull him down to earth? Absolutely.

The problem is that Eurylochus does it in public, in front of the entire crew, not only trying to talk sense into Odysseus, but sowing doubt among the crew.

When Ody pulls him aside at the end of Luck Runs Out this is practically the first thing he points out to him. A captain making a mistake is a terrible thing, but a crew left to their own devices…. well, Mutiny showed that, despite his flaws, Odysseus made better decisions most of the time (motivated by a desire to get home) than they did, focused more on the present moment, hunger and fatigue.

But even putting tactics aside - I think the friends know best that a public confrontation is not the best idea. While we obviously don't know how Odysseus would have reacted to a private conversation with Eurylochus - it seems to me personally that at least he could have focused on what was being said to him, rather than making sure his men don't fall apart.

I will end here, because we can point those thing for eternity and I didn't even started rating about Odysseus's mistakes as a friend-

I just don't think Eury was a really good friend in general. He was a decent man, he was trying his best, he was obviously tired and broken, but looking from perspetive of the first question, he just... doesn't stand a chance

And I still love him tho.

(i will probably get through every character in survey when it's finished lmao)

(i regret setting seven days instead of one for this)

[thatwasntlikeridingabikeuasshole]

hate reaching the bit in every story planning process where i start seeing all the plot holes in my amazing idea

[isfjmel-phleg]

It's my night to work, and I can't, and I'm very sorry. Can't argue with the campus nurse though.

I am also very sorry about the grass out front of our main building. The circumstances were desperate and hopefully it will never happen again.

[tulipsnflowers]

They surely have to have something of her as well, you know?

[writing-for-life]

I totally think Gregory fits the overarching theme of guilt, @tickldpnk8 (in fact, I had briefly mentioned him and then decided to delete it again 🙈🤣).

As for the flower symbolism—there is so much to that. A lot of people call them poppies, probably because of their association with Morpheus/Hypnos, but we are never told what they are. They’re just flowers (and in the case of Brief Lives, an entirely new species. Which then makes me think that those ones are specific to him?). But I think it’s important to keep in mind that red flowers have traditionally not just been associated with love. They’ve also been associated with heartache, longing and, yes, regret. And while regret isn’t exactly the same as guilt, it still somewhat fits the bill. Also: I somehow don’t think we’ll get that particular scene in the show (if I’m honest, I hope we won’t), so maybe the foreshadowing was done with Gregory, and that’ll be the end of it.

I also completely agree with you on the whole topic of (lost) virginity and its… “markers”. It is certainly fitting for a folk tale set in an ancient culture, and also considering that the tribal elder tells this story from a potentially more patriarchal viewpoint (although we can’t be 100% sure). I think we’ve discussed this before (possibly in the sleuthing thread? 🤣)—there was a potential shift from a more matriarchal culture to a more patriarchal one at some point. [Well, if her culture was completely erased, it was more of a hard reset I guess.] But even so, there are definite patriarchal undertones in the story (the external drive to find a husband, the whole issue around virginity etc). And as usual, this is of course a story within a story—so do we get an accurate picture, or do the men who tell the story fill in the blanks, and the women tell it differently?

But all of that aside, and I guess I’m going there now: I’ve often wondered why her wounds were healed but her maidenhead/hymen wasn’t restored (which, in archaic terms, would also mean her maidenhood/virginity wasn’t restored). One could say, “Well, does it matter, a few moments later they did the deed anyway, and the problem solved itself.” But that’s exactly the thing—why point it out that he healed her but didn’t “restore” her? I have a few ideas, one of them that it was to further the point that it didn’t matter to him whether she was “untouched” (but she was either way, so it’s a bit pointless really), the others not quite so benign, but they’re ultimately all speculation.

I love this story so much, but like everything in the Sandman, it’s one that needs to come full circle to really appreciate it fully I think. I’d almost say that we cannot grasp it in its entirety without “A Hope in Hell” and “Season of Mists”. And there were like 20 issues between “Tales in the Sand” and the final resolution of SoM—back then, it was impossible to jump back and forth, and I sometimes also miss the old days of reading for the first time and just going, “Oh…” 🙈 But even so, and even after so many years and rereads, I still have so many questions. Maybe it’s good that some of them will probably forever stay unanswered? 😉

Where the Blood Fell, Red Flowers Grew…

Red Flowers as a Symbol for the Loss of Innocence & Guilt in Tales in the Sand & Brief Lives

So we’re (re)reading Tales in the Sand in our community right now, and while the following scene always gives me the ick (and hence I will put it under the cut), I couldn’t help but reflect on that line in the header (because that’s from “Tales in the Sand”, not “Brief Lives”)…

Blood turning into red flowers is a recurring theme, but somehow, I’ve never thought of the implications of adding it here, in “Tales in the Sand”.

The first instinct would obviously be to say:

Red flowers symbolise the loss of innocence.

It’s a bit tricky to call it that in Nada’s case though.

Because despite destroying her hymen herself, that obviously doesn’t take away her “innocence” (I struggle a bit to voice this in a way that doesn’t sound archaic and yesteryear), as in: She doesn’t really stop being a virgin because of it. We can obviously discuss that these were different times, and that’s what she believed etc, but I think that doesn’t matter in this case.

Neither do these panels, in which Morpheus heals her but doesn’t “restore her maidenhead” (not maidenhood!), truly change anything about that. I have many other thoughts about these panels, but they’re maybe for another time.

But if we see “loss of innocence” metaphorically, if we think about feelings of guilt, it still makes sense.

So why the flowers in “Tales in the Sand” and then have them return as a motif in “Brief Lives”?

What Nada felt at this stage was already overwhelming guilt for having fallen in love with Dream (she pursued him first—she felt like she had brought it on. And of course we all know that she isn’t the one to blame here, but he for not being able to accept rejection and honestly being coercive). The loss of her innocence is twofold—real and symbolic.

And red flowers aren’t just about grief in “Brief Lives”. Much in the same way that the blood on Morpheus’ hands was never real either (it disappears and reappears, and I’m saying here and now: he’s the only one who sees it), but always a symbol for feelings of his guilt.

These are just the little things and repeating motifs interwoven into the Sandman that make me go:

[meggydolaon]

something that bugs me about Frieren is that the adventure of the Hero Party to slay the Demon King famously took 10 years... what about the return trip....?

[in-study-hell]

what am I even doing

[puddingapologist]

Pudding-Kidnapped Plot Significance Theories (interlinked, but each portion could be individually wrong)

1) Blackbeard doesn't know she has a devil fruit, and his purposes for kidnapping her are unrelated to her memory powers. My impression during WCI is that Pudding's devil fruit was VERY secret, and he wouldn't have had an opportunity to learn about it. Plus, if all he wanted was to steal it, he would have done it already. Why bother keeping her prisoner? He's much too practical-minded for that

2) Pudding is going to play a significant role in fixing Sanji's slowly-but-surely progressing Germa-fication. Specifically, I think once Sanji "loses his heart", her slice of his memories from WCI will act as a back-up save of him at Peak Romanticism. Probably not fully curing (since there a lot of other characters that would make for better "remember who you are!!" candidates), but definitely driving in a deep wedge to facilitate it

3) Blackbeard has plans to nullify each Straw Hat member individually, and i bet he's more than noticed Sanji's weaknesses to Women In Danger. So what better woman to leverage against him than the one he was *very publicly engaged* to? (Except he doesn't realize that Sanji's got the Germa-fication thing going on, and so it's not unlikely that this plan will COMPLETELY fall through for very upsetting reasons, assuming Theory Point #2 happens AFTER a Blackbeard Crew fight. Zoro will be trying to fulfill his "kill me" promise at some point, after all)

[ilovecoffeeandchemistry]

ooooh i woke up in a bad mood and it's so hard not to be a bitch about it

[binders-and-beanies]

Pondering bottom surgery in the tags I mf guess

[scarletcomet]

I am so fucking miserable

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Calling of Light

final book in the Shamanborn trilogy

about a young woman training to be a royal spy who discovered she had powers after bringing her best friend back to life

now, as the new king’s new shadow, must finally find a way to stop the Soulless, save her best friend from a magical rot, and stop the ever-encroaching dead forest

elemental & spirit magic

bi MC, no romance

read an arc from netgalley (but it’s since released)

[sanguith]

i'm glad i decided to try out a ketosis diet again (aka changing my metabolism to basically only use ketone bodies made from fatty acids for energy by reducing carb intake to max 20g/day) for a few weeks because it was a neat experiment but i'm also glad I decided to stop because now i get to enjoy life's greatest fucking simplest yet finest delicacy: mashed potatoes/sweet potatoes with melted butter and salt. i cannot understand how i could live without that. just. vegetables. keto has opened my eyes to new ways to cook foods and experiment with ingredients but i don't think i can live without carbs. i doubt that the majority of people could. also have you any idea how much good simple near-zero effort food there is out there like holy gosh darn in heaven. i don't have to spend hours cooking something to have a nice meal