#lives. not even knowing if the people they care about are alive or not

[dchuntress]

Subject: Re: Extension Request

Hi Madi,

I had your sister in my class two years ago. Samantha O'Reilly was sharp, determined, and never backed down when she knew she was right. She believed in Gotham and its ability to get better in a way that, frankly, inspired me. I remember helping her with her essay for college applications, and I knew then if anybody was going to revolutionize Gotham's healthcare, it was her.

It hurts to hear that she's gone missing. But I do not believe that Scarecrow has the power to change her, to take away who she really is. She may be manipulated, she may be roped into his schemes, but she isn't lost, my dear. She is in trouble. And those are not the same thing.

She needs us to believe in her more than ever. And I need you to have faith in yourself, too.

Take the extension. Take all the time you need to cope and focus. If doing schoolwork gives you something steady to hold onto, then do what you need to do. But by no means think that you need to prove something by burning yourself out, Madi. You are brilliant and dedicated, and you don't need me or my opinions to know that. Your well-being comes first.

If Scarecrow is recruiting, then he is expanding, and I need you and your family to stay far away from his radar at all times. Keep your routines unpredictable and your location private. Stay with people you trust and be wary of anybody new who take an interest in you. If anything ever feels off — strangers watching you, cryptic messages, odd delivers, friends going missing — let me know immediately.

Scarecrow preys on fear, but he cannot really destroy you, Sam, or anybody else in this city. Not in a way that matters, as long as we remain steadfast even in our nightmares and our uncertainty. I understand how helpless this feels, and I don't have the right to tell you not to feel that way. The trajectory of your lives may have changed irreversibly, and things might not be the same.

But what I will tell you is that the love you have for Samantha is far more powerful than whatever Scarecrow throws in her way. Don't give up on your sister, Madi.

And do not, even for one second, think you are alone in this: you are not. Sam has people looking out for her, you have people looking out for you. You have me in your corner, by your side, always.

So, do not hesitate to reach out for anything. I mean that, Madison. Take care of yourself.

All my love,

Helena

Huntress doesn't care that that by now Scarecrow is intimately familiar with what makes her tick, what makes her crack, what makes her falter. She doesn't care how fortified his lair is; numerous lackeys ready to launch into bloodshed in an instant, the air reeking with gases and chemicals threatening to send Huntress spiralling down, breaking down, hesitating. She doesn't hesitate. Helena's spent weeks tearing through Scarecrow's operations — destroying labs, cutting off supply chains, thinking she was making a dent. And still, here they are. Another name added to the list of Gotham's stolen, neglected, forgotten. Another bright mind warped into something ugly. All that Huntress cares about right now is getting Sam out of there and back home in one piece, alive and breathing. She doesn't care if Madison's sister is already brainwashed beyond recognition, if she might resist at every step of the way out. That's a problem for later — for Oracle, for Batman, for Zatanna, for anybody to undo. Huntress' job is extraction. Making sure there's someone still left to save. Huntress doesn't care how deep into the darkness Scarecrow has dragged Samantha. She's pulling her out.

—

Subject: Re: Interview With The CatWoman

Hi Ananya,

Well, of course, you would be the one to track down Catwoman and persuade her to do an interview. I'm not all surprised, and I am perhaps a teensy tiny bit impressed.

I must admit, this is not what I was expecting. And I do hope you're staying safe, young lady, I'm not thrilled that you got that close to such a volatile situation. But I understand how these things unfold.

That being said, you showed great initiative and quick thinking. You saw someone who made a real, tangible impact on your surroundings, and you found an unconventional yet necessary perspective into your work. That is the heart of analysis and good storytelling.

No signature? No problem. I'm obviously not going to ask you to chase down her just for an autograph and risk getting clawed. And let's be honest, Ms Catwoman doesn't strike me as someone who enjoys leaving paper trail behind. Some people let their actions speak for them.

And that’s the thing, isn't it? The point of this assignment isn't to necessarily scout out a well-known superhero, but to find someone who makes a difference, someone who helps out. You don't need a badge, a title, or anybody's permission to do the right thing — you just do it.

Your interview was solid, and I’ve given you a good grade. Take a look at my feedback in the attached scan when you get the chance, though — there are a few areas that could use some refining. You’ve got a great story here, kid. Let’s make sure it's told right.

Nice work. Stay safe.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

[ Attachment: I_Interview_Catwoman_scan.pdf ]

The fire escape isn't the most comfortable perch, but it gives her a decent vantage point. And it's a good enough spot to read Ananya's work thoroughly, annotate, and get a glimpse of a side of Selina Kyle that Huntress doesn't see much. The side that steps in, the side that doesn't let drug dealers get away with thinking they can take advantage of young minds, the side that answers a bubbly, young teenager's questions with warmth, charisma, and a signature flair that's uniquely, intriguingly hers. The side that gives a damn. Catwoman is nothing less of a wild card, but Selina has a good head on her shoulders — draws lines that she doesn't like to see get crossed. The Cat always lands on her feet, and tonight, Huntress wonders if she'll land on the right side. If she'll give another damn and show up. Catwoman isn't anybody's idea of a hero in the traditional sense. But again, neither is Huntress. Selina knows the darkness that prevails on the broken, vulnerable streets of this city; all-consuming and never forgiving. Helena knows that darkness too. The kind of darkness that chews up and spits out anybody into a hollow husk of their selves. The kind of darkness they both refuse to be caged by any longer. The kind of darkness they won't let engulf innocent kids anymore. Huntress hopes—prays for Sam's sake that Selina will hear her out. And extend that listening ear to Pamela, whose brilliance rivals that of Crane's. His brainwashing isn't impossible to tackle, but it spreads rapidly throughout the nervous system. Ivy might know how to reign those in before it's too late. And Catwoman might be able to convince her to step in. And maybe — just maybe, if Helena's prayers are heard, Selina might just know the darkness well enough to predict where Gotham's missing kids go when the rest of the city falls asleep. It's a long shot. But long shots are all Huntress has.

—

Subject: Re: pokodot man stole my shirts and i have nothing to wear for the trip :(

Hi Ken,

Are you and your mom safe? That's my main concern.

That being said — seriously, Ken? Polka-dot shirts?

I'll be honest, this is a first, even for Gotham. This city truly never runs out of weird. I have no issue excusing the class trip, but I will need more details before I write "Absence due to polka-dot-related crimes" in the attendance log. Please ask your mother to call me when she has a moment and we'll sort it out.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

Seriously, the Polka-Dot Man? Scrounging the local laundromat and looting some kid's shirts that won't even fit him? The mental image alone should've made her laugh. Gotham's walking eyesore, some washed-up D-list villain, shifting through other people's laundry baskets — and possibly the bargain bins at joke shops for a suit upgrade. But Huntress didn't. Not a lot of jokes were really that funny in Gotham. They tended to die and rot out in your mouth before you could spit them out. There was the simple set-up:

Some ridiculously, mind-numbingly, garnish gimmicks and corny costumes that'd even make a two-year-old roll their eyes. And then there was the punchline:

The bloodbath that spilled all over for rogues to lap, the homes that were left in ruins. Or a laundromat, in this case. A flick of Abner’s wrist sent a cluster of neon dots whirling through the air, and Huntress barely dodged in time — one of them piercing straight into a dryer, causing it to blow up on impact. The polka dots weren't really just a bad fashion statement. They were weaponised — hot, colourful, searing disks flung at her with deadly precision, sizzling against the concrete like dying stars when they missed. The next one sliced through her thigh, drawing blood with a burning tenacity. Yeah, she wasn't laughing. And Huntress didn't think for even one second that Abner Krill was just dillydallying at laundromats, but she wasn't going to stroke his ego either. "The Suicide Squad kick you to the curb or something?" She taunted, as she dodged a buzzsaw dot and rolled behind a vending machine. "Didn't think you were shaking down dryers for spare quarters now!" A beat of silence after that — the dots have come to a halt. A pause long enough for her to peek out. For him to give her a smile. "You think this is about the laundry, Huntress?" Abner stood there, casually twirling a glowing dot between his fingers. "You think this is all I'm doing? You don't think I'm capable of anything greater?" Abner laughed a loud, joyless laugh. "You're just like my mom, Huntress." "Gross, dude," Helena shot back, swiftly placing a bolt in her crossbow. "Why? Mothers are like bridges, you know..." His smile broadened, but never reached his eyes. "People trust them without question." His smile fell. He flicked his wrist — And she fired, and — The dot and the bolt met in a thunderous crash. In the back of her head, she wondered if his quip was just some dumb, random, stupid inside joke she wasn't supposed to get, and — Huntress really wished she didn't.

—

Subject: Re: ...

Hello Malik,

I need you to listen to me very carefully. Thank you for trusting me. I know this is a scary situation to be in, but you did the right thing by letting me know.

I want you and your dad to stay safe. If you have family somewhere else, consider staying with them for a while. Otherwise, I can send you a list of trustworthy places you'll be safe — shelters, community centers, mosques.

Be selective in whom you trust at this time. Trust your judgement. Keep your head down, avoid drawing attention, and if you notice anything suspicious, don’t try to check it out on your own. Just leave, get somewhere safe, and call for help. You're doing the best you can already.

And listen, kid — whenever you feel like you’re out of options, whenever you want to shout into the void, whenever you think no one's listening? I'm here to hear you. You can always tell me anything. Everything you say will stay between us. If you're worried about your dad knowing, I won't say a word to him.

I'm very sorry the police aren't taking this seriously. But I believe you, Malik. And I know some people who will believe you too. We will figure something out together.

We will keep our city safe. And that starts by keeping ourselves safe.

Okay?

Stay in touch.

With love and prayers,

Miss Bertinelli

Her heart aches. God. Good God, why — why is she the only adult that Malik can trust? That's — that's not right! Malik doesn't know that his teacher wields a weapon uglier than a pen. Malik doesn't know that her face is slick with blood — blood that's not hers. Malik doesn't know the ugly things she does in the nighttime to secure a brighter morning for other people. But Malik has faith. He trusts that Miss Bertinelli with that information, he trusts her — a schoolteacher — to do something about a citywide threat. This isn't a fight she can win on her own. So, mirroring that trust, she casts the net wide, spreading his warning like wildfire and hoping it reaches the right people — enough people. Oracle's Birds, the Bat's brats, the few independents that don't answer to Batman, and hell, even a handful of rogues that hate Joker more than they hate Huntress. Anybody outside of Gotham willing to cross the distance just to get their punches in. Some of her allies are still en-route, others have already started petty brawls in proximity, few are monitoring the area, some are waiting for the right moment to strike. But her gaze is locked on the bridge: it's still in one place. Blood rings in her head and burns in her eyes. The bridge isn’t just that — it's a crucial artery of Gotham. One wrong move, one wrong incision, and — And it won’t just fall. It’ll crush. Families. Homes. Futures. A graveyard that symbolises their failure to protect Gotham's innocent, effectively punishing these people for not being able to afford to live elsewhere. That caked-faced bastard picked his target well. Damn him, damn him, damn— Tears sting her eyes. She doesn't know if she can do this. She doesn't know if her allies of the night can save the day in time. She doesn't know if the bridge will stay intact. She doesn't know if they'll prevent casualties. She doesn't know how it ends tonight, and what happens tomorrow. (But Huntress has faith.) Something cold and solid brushes against her boot, snaps her out. She looks down and picks it up. A crowbar. Her grip tightens. The last time one of these was in the wrong hand, a young child died screaming. As if life means nothing. He took an innocent life — as he always did, destroying lives beyond repair, beyond redemption, beyond reprieve. (Never again.) And tonight, he has set out to claim thousands of lives, millions more in collateral damage. But that won't happen. No. No more families torn apart. No more children left in despair. No more bodies will be piled up at his feet. Because it won't be the damn bridge that falls.

(Never again.) Because Huntress has faith. She touches the cross at her throat, and remembers she is here. (NEVER AGAIN.) She brings the crowbar down — breaking the metal and a lackey's bone simultaneously. Reloads her crossbow. Marches ahead. Beside her, movement. More figures joining the fight. Allies, reluctant or otherwise. Capes, good and bad alike, drawn to this fight like vultures, like wolves, like something holy. She doesn't stop to look back. "Let's finish this."

—

Subject: Re: Library Suggestions

Hi Eden,

You're smart to trust your gut. If something smells fishy, it's probably not for no reason.

Here are some safer options:

• Hemingway Community Library: Well-lit, quiet, good security. It's run by the volunteers in the neighborhood, so the staff actually care.

• Eastpoint Library: This one's near your aunt's workplace. Might make pickups easier. Oh, and Sol Azteca is close by — you two should stop there for the carnitas tacos. Best in Gotham.

• Gotham City Public Library: Not super close, but it’s just one bus stop away. A friend of mine works there, Dr Gordon. She’s nicer than she looks — if you need anything, you can always approach her.

• The Woolf & Austen Bookshop: My personal pick? This bookstore on 5th and Wilburn. Good coffee, quiet atmosphere. I drop by there a lot. A little farther out from the school, but it's near my apartment. I don't do any grading here, I promise.

• If none of those work for you, let me know. I’ll help you figure something out.

And don't apologize for reaching out. You deserve safe spaces. Always.

Take care,

Miss B

Huntress follows her own gut, too. She steps into the library and immediately smells it: Not old books, not dust, not coffee — chemical rot, dense in the air. It’s a lab. A drug operation. Of fucking course. The same bastards who occupied Miriam's apartment basement have moved their operations here. The same ones Selina stopped from selling drugs to kids. Gotham’s rogues aren’t criminal masterminds. They’re roaches. The kind that refuse to die, that scurry to a new corner when the light exposes them. The kind that don’t learn their lesson until their heads have been shoved into a bookshelf hard enough to make them beg for a third chance. Unfortunately — or otherwise — Miss B doesn't know how to quit either.

one of helena bertinelli's students emailing her at 12:59 am asking if it's too late to submit their assignment now since their house got burned down due to gotham incidents:

helena bertinelli responding at 1:07 am after grading their work and reassuring them it's fine even though she's literally yet to take care of the third degree burns on top of 500 other fatal injuries she just got from her other job:

[for-a-longlongtime]

Pedro’s latest IG post about Cecilia Gentili: “They know that it is really powerful to be ourselves.” ✊ 🏳‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

(OLD picture of Pedro at the 2019 Outfest LA LGBTQ+ Film festival)

“Do not allow anyone to tell you that this is not a big deal, or that this is just a culture war, or that trans people are overstating the seriousness of what is going on. While we feel the fear and anger I also want you to know that trans people have always been here and will always be here. Many of us are still alive who have lived through very difficult times.

I was a trans child in Argentina in the 70s and I have been a trans person for nearly 50 years. Knowing your identity, who you are and where you come from is powerful. It's a very, very powerful thing. There is a reason why so many of these laws are targeting education. They know it's really powerful to be ourselves. That is why they are trying to keep teachers from telling children about gender identity, or sexualities that are not straight or cis. That is why they're trying to prevent teachers from sharing Black History Month and the reality of American history that is very fucking complicated. I think one of the most important things we can do for young people is to share those stories.

Once we know who we are, we cannot be stopped.

I believe firmly that while we might be living through some challenging times, progress is inevitable. The people who are opposed to our existence will do everything they can to make our lives as difficult as possible. They can do nothing to erase us or to make us disappear. As long as we are rooted in ourselves, in our identities, in our histories, and in our communities, there is nothing they can do to stop us.

I hope that you all take this fear, this frustration, this anger that you are feeling in this moment and that it inspires you to do even more for our community. Rather than give in to the people who wish for us to just disappear, we must meet this moment by caring for one another and strengthening our communities.

As I said, it is so deeply exciting to see so many young queer and trans folks graduating. And it makes me hopeful that all that you will do to take care of each other and our community will flourish in an amazing future for all of us.”

⬆️ I’ve transcribed the video that Pedro shared to his Instagram of activist Cecilia Gentili speaking at last year’s CUNY LGBTQI+ Student Conference - just in case it’s easier for people to read the full text instead of watching the video. Picture included of Pedro is an old one of him at the 2019 Outfest (LA LGBTQ+ Film Festival) because it seemed a good fit for the theme. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Original video below:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Pedro Pascal he/him (@pascalispunk)

[00valentina-writes00]

hiii! i don’t know if you do requests like this but could you do something with reader and abby going on one of those supply runs in the wlf and reader getting SUPER injured and it’s so angsty (but reader lives ofc). thank u your reading is so yummy 😋

✞⛧ Stay ✞⛧

Warnings: blood mentions, gunshot wound, angst, near death experience, fluff towards the end

The blood on your hands isn’t yours. Not at first.

The run was supposed to be simple. In and out. No unnecessary risks, no unnecessary fights. That’s what they always said before they sent people out beyond the walls. As if infected or desperate survivors cared about plans.

As if death cared about plans.

It happens fast.

The sound of a gunshot cracks through the empty street, and at first, you don’t even realize it hit you. It’s only when your legs give out that it makes sense. The pain doesn’t come right away. There’s just pressure—like something punched through your stomach, twisted, then left a hole.

You hit the ground, the world tilting as you collapse onto the pavement.

“NO!”

Abby’s voice is raw, panicked. You’ve never heard her panic.

The moment you hit the ground, she’s there, kneeling beside you, hands pressing down hard over the wound. A strangled noise leaves your throat as white-hot agony erupts in your stomach.

“Shit, no, no, no—stay with me.”

Her voice is shaking. She’s shaking.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to breathe through it, but the pain is unbearable. It spreads through you in waves, a deep, gnawing agony that turns every breath into a battle.

There’s more shouting in the distance. WLF soldiers returning fire, pushing back the ambushers. You don’t care. All you care about is the blood pooling beneath you, the warmth of it soaking into your clothes.

“You’re losing too much,” Abby mutters, more to herself than you. Her hands are covered in your blood, fingers pressing into the wound, desperate to keep you together.

You try to focus on her face instead of the pain.

She’s terrified.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this—jaw clenched, eyes wild, lips pressed so tightly together they’re white.

“Abby,” you whisper, voice barely there.

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t fucking talk like—like this is it.”

Her voice breaks on the last word.

You blink up at her. “Hurts.”

“I know, I know,” she says quickly, her free hand coming up to brush your face. Her fingers are warm, calloused, smearing blood along your cheek. “But you have to stay with me. You hear me? You don’t get to quit.”

She’s begging. Abby Anderson does not beg.

A sharp cough racks your body, making the pain spike tenfold. You gasp, vision blurring with the effort. The world around you fades in and out, dark corners creeping into your sight.

You know what this means.

So does Abby.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she whispers. Her forehead presses against yours, her breath uneven. “You hear me?”

Your fingers twitch weakly against hers. “I’m so tired.”

A choked sound escapes her throat. “I know,” she breathes. “But you don’t get to leave me. Not like this.”

You want to promise her you won’t. But you don’t know if you can.

The world tilts again. The last thing you feel before the darkness takes you is the warmth of Abby’s lips against your forehead and the way her voice shatters when she pleads, “Not you.”

Pain is the first thing you recognize when you wake.

The second is warmth.

Something solid, something safe is wrapped around your hand, squeezing, grounding you. You force your eyes open. The light is dim, flickering, casting deep shadows along the walls.

You’re in the stadium. The infirmary.

You’re alive.

Your throat is dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You try to move, but pain rips through your body like fire, seizing every muscle. A sharp gasp escapes you.

There’s movement beside you. Then, a voice—hoarse, exhausted, desperate.

“Hey—hey, I’m here.”

Abby.

You blink, vision focusing on her face. She looks like hell. Her hair is a mess, pulled back but tangled, stray strands sticking to her face. There are dark circles beneath her eyes, deeper than you’ve ever seen.

“You’re awake,” she breathes, like she doesn’t quite believe it.

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. She notices immediately, reaching for a nearby cup of water.

“Here,” she murmurs, slipping an arm behind your shoulders to help you sit up just enough to drink.

Even the slight movement sends sharp stabs of pain through your torso, but Abby is there, holding you steady, making sure you don’t fall apart.

You take a sip, coughing weakly. Abby’s hand lingers on your back before she eases you down again.

You watch her, taking in every detail. The tension in her shoulders. The way her hands tremble.

“You—” Your voice is nothing but a rasp. You swallow hard. “—look like shit.”

She exhales sharply through her nose, almost laughing. Almost.

“Yeah, well,” she mutters. “You don’t exactly look great yourself.”

There’s something in her eyes—something raw, unguarded.

Something that looks a hell of a lot like relief.

“How bad?” you ask.

Abby’s jaw tightens. “Bad.”

You nod slowly. You already knew that.

Silence stretches between you. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. There are things she isn’t saying, things you don’t know how to ask.

Finally, you manage, “You stayed.”

Abby’s lips press together. Her gaze drops to where her hand still grips yours, like she’s only just realizing it’s there. But she doesn’t pull away.

“Of course, I stayed,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

Something twists in your chest, and it has nothing to do with the injury.

“Thought I was gonna die,” you admit quietly.

Her grip tightens.

“You almost did,” she says, and for the first time since you woke up, she looks at you—really looks at you.

Like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she blinks.

Your stomach sinks. You thought you’d seen every side of Abby—the hardened soldier, the ruthless fighter, the unwavering leader.

But this? This is different.

This is fear.

She was afraid.

For you.

You squeeze her hand. It’s weak, barely there, but she feels it. Her breath catches, just for a second.

Then she sighs, running a hand down her face. “God, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” you say, and somehow, it’s the most sincere thing you’ve ever said.

Abby shakes her head, exhaling sharply. “Don’t be.”

She hesitates. Then, carefully, she shifts closer, pressing her forehead to yours.

For a long moment, neither of you speak.

There are no words for this.

For the way her breath hitches when you lean into her touch. For the way her fingers curl around yours like she’s still trying to hold you together.

For the way she stayed.

You close your eyes.

“Not you,” she whispers.

She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t need to.

[fandom-rants-here]

I need Mike to confess first. And I need Will to not believe him.

something something...

"Will, I promise you I am not lying. This isn't- this isn't any prank or trick or mischief or whatever you think is going on here. I am telling you that I am in love with you. I always have been."

There are audible tremors in Mike's voice and he thinks he feels tears falling down his face.

"Whatever I had with El was not love. It was coincidence and my own cowardice that brought and held us together. It was dumb luck I met her. But you know who I was looking for that day? It was you, Will. It's always been you. I chose to walk up to you on that playground 10 years ago. I chose to ask you to be my friend. I chose you. "

Even if Mike had the confidence to look towards Will, his eyes were blurred with tears and he couldn't even see the ground they were falling on.

"I'm sorry for what I said at the pizza shop. It was- I was lying. I was just saying what I thought she needed to hear again and I really don't know why cause it never works and you were right there and it fucking hurt to lie so much and you didn't deserve that, you- Will, my life didn't start the day I met El in the woods, not in the way I implied, at least. You were missing, most thought you were dead or would be soon. We were all so hurt and lost without you. Joyce seemed half hysterical, Jonathan- I'd never seen him so sad, and we, The Party, we didn't know what to do without you. I felt like death, like I'd died without you to keep me alive. But then we found El and she- if she could be lost in the woods and found, so could you. And then- then she recognized your photo and she knew who you were and she flipped the board to show you were in the Upside Down and- and meeting El wasn't my life starting. It was hope restarting it, hope that she could get you back to us."

They stood and he wasn't sure if Will was nearly as frozen as he was, but it took him several moments to regain any thoughts and then continue speaking.

"Will, I've known I was in love with you for years, now. But the love has been there far longer. You- you're amazing, Will. You're so smart, even if you suck at math. You capture beauty in ever drawing and painting you make, creating it from sheer care and adoration alone, when you have to. You consider other's thoughts and feelings before you do or say anything, no matter how angry you are. You're such a quick thinker, it's scary sometimes. Not- not really, but you get the idea. You're the most level headed person inside of a group where everyone else is about 10 seconds away from murdering each other. You're patient, gentle, honest, hilarious, and you're also, like, super handsome. I couldn't live without you, without my cleric. I almost didn't. You've saved me more times than you know. Because, Will, you are so strong and so resilient. You've survived and endured more than anyone ever should be forced to yet you remain kind. You called me the heart, in the van. And don't even try to say that's all El, you and I both know that she doesn't think that and that you're a terrible liar. But, really, Will? Me, the heart? Will, that has always been you. You bring together and unite people. You bring out the best in people, even when they're cruel or being assholes or telling you things that aren't meant for you but for themselves. You have always been the heart of this party. You've always been my heart."

The weight of their matching watches is heavy on Mike's wrist, the syncronized ticks breaking the stark silence every second. And, as he finally lifted his head up, Mike once again saw that Will had already been staring.

For once, Mike doesn't look away. Rather, he takes a few hesitant steps closer.

"I love you, Will Byers. You are my best friend, my first friend, my childhood crush, my gay realization, my tether to reality, my cleric, and you have been the most important person in my life since you entered it. Maybe even before. Maybe I had carved out a space knowing one day you'd fill it."

[k-chips]

Yes. YES. I'm legitimately tearing up because you were able to perfectly describe what made me so upset and sad about the finale!

(Op, I know this post is from 2022 but bear with me, I'm late.)

The fact that I literally had the same expectations and feelings and reactions to everything as you had!

Joking about Lis and Tilda being exes, Tilda caring for Beta and wanting to help her, Sylens and Tilda mirroring each other and all the possible interactions with the GAIA gang after the game. I loved the idea of her staying with the tribes after the game, it's such a cool concept to have an "Old One" living with the new people of this new Earth. Using Apollo in the right way, teaching about ART, exploring new possibilities and, as you said op, forming new connections. (I'm still a firmer believer in the "Alva and Tilda would be besties" creed. Amen to me) They were all perfect ways to deal with her character, to make her "pay" for leaving Earth and Lis behind 1000 years ago and still not treating her as a mere "twist" antagonist (even if I was kinda expecting that since every character would talk about how untrustworthy she looked).

When you first meet her the game start by telling you how tragic her past was and so you can perfectly understand WHY she would rather fly off in space TWICE than having to live through yet another catastrophic event (first Rotterdam, then the Faro Plague and now even Nemesis) so WHY they then treat the whole thing as if she was just another selfish billionaire like Gerard and Erik?

I can accept her being obsessed with Aloy, I can see why someone with her past would develop some sort of obsessive and possessive behavior after 1000 years of guilt, solitude and apathy, especially towards what is left of the only person she felt good with but don't stop there! Go further! Explore that side of her and make her change for the better! It's such a waste to let her like that, not even a finale confrontation with Aloy before dying, like Regalla had. Show me the parallel between Tilda and Sylens, show me their funny bickering but also how they both change themselves and the other because of these fights. Show me Aloy's approach with both, show me her dealing with two different yet similar brilliant minds like theirs.

To go even deeper, it would be bad and a waste even for ELISABET's character! They had a very deep and special bond, whatever you think it as toxic from the start or not, they had the chance to make Lis' dream live on not only with Aloy, Beta and GAIA but even with her former partner. Lis' character could have helped make Tilda heal and be better even 1000 in the future, showing how strong Elisabet's legacy is.

Ok, I don't want to be delusional but there is still a little hope she's still alive in the Zenith base... you don't see her body, Aloy doesn't look for her for a finale shot or words like she always does with other enemies, they don't let you go back at the base after the finale and she still has the Far Zenith technology that could very much heal her. I mean, that little explosion can't be considered fatal but still...

I still want to believe we'll see more of her character, I don't want this to be the game that disappoint me after loving it so much like I loved the first one...

okay so gonna attempt to explain why the ending of horizon forbidden west upset me so much. i do want to say that up until the last five minutes, i loved basically everything about it. obvious spoilers beneath the cut. tldr at the end.

from the moment we heard the recording between elizabet and tilda I started joking about them being exes. even though I didn't think it would happen, I was hoping that tilda would end up switching sides because of her connection to elizabet. when that actually happened, and we were able to talk to her, from what she said about the zeniths, beta and herself, I felt like her story arc fit really well into a lot of what the game was saying about how it's not money or power or technology that matters the most, but human connection. when she talked about how the zeniths should have achieved more, and that they stagnated in vi, and that she wanted to show beta the beauty of art so her upbringing wasn't purely technical, and how alone she's been/is now, I thought that she'd end up seeing the beauty of this world and forging connections with aloy and the others. sure she talked about wanting to educate people with apollo, but imo that came from wanting to see elizabets dream fulfilled, and not having had enough time yet to see that the world as it is now is still beautiful, even though it's different. I thought that through talking to aloy and beta and gaia, tilda would come to see that this world was still something elizabet would be proud of, and that it's worth protecting.

even though I joked about elizabet and tilda being exes, and even though those vibes were really strong when we saw her art collection, I never actually expected them to go there. so when tilda confirmed that they were together, I completely lost my mind. the fact that they were canon, that it's canon that the woman who saved the world was gay, was just!! so much for me. I felt like it added a new layer to her character arc too, because it suddenly became that she was motivated by love to help aloy and save the world. it seemed like that had been her motivation for talking to beta too, that she'd tried to be almost parental to her.

so I thought tilda was a character that represented someone who had what some others in the game thought was important (power, immortality, knowledge), but who actually wanted human connection, to see the beauty of the world, who was motivated by love to do the right thing and help save the world, and who would come to love it herself.

except then ? the game does a full 180 and makes her the final boss fight, and she dies. and honestly, it did feel like a 180 on her character simply because of where I thought her character was going. she repeatedly said that she regretted leaving earth, and that she should've done more to save it. sure, nemesis is a threat that seems unbeatable, but since it's basically the faro plague 2.0, shouldn't that be a chance for tilda to do what she wanted to do , and stay to help despite the odds? but okay, say they needed her to be the final boss, her not wanting to take beta, and suddenly not seeing beta as a worth anything, and suddenly seeming obsessed with aloy , and us having no choice but to kill her was so?? awful to me?

given what nemesis is and where it came from, I was expecting that after the boss fight we'd be able to spare tilda, and that we'd keep her locked up and that she'd help us throughout the next game. that gradually through talking to gaia and aloy, she'd see that this earth is worth fighting for, even if the odds are terrible. if she had to be the final boss fight, I would've been okay with it if it had been tilda wanting to take aloy and beta, both elizabets 'children', without it being a weird obsession, but that after the fight she lives and we spare her so that she can help us with nemesis, and ends up being 'rehabilitated' or properly redeemed etc.

except there's no chance to spare her, and the game kills her. the game makes me kill her. and honestly, I'd partly expected her to die, but I'd thought that she'd die protecting aloy or beta. I'd actually expected her to sacrifice herself for beta to mirror rost's sacrifice for aloy, after aloy and beta had that discussion and tilda wanting to get beta back was a thing. and I would've been okay with that. it would've been okay for me, because it would've been tilda dying to protect her ex's 'child' who she loves, because that connection is more important.

except it's none of that. instead we get tilda wanting to kidnap aloy and gaia and run away, despite everything shes said, and the way she talks during the boss fight shows a weird obsession. to me, she went from being a lesbian motivated by love and grief to do the right thing, to an evil crazy low-key predatory lesbian, which I hate.

and it's only exacerbated by the ending with sylens. I thought that sylens and tilda were opposing mirrors of each other. tilda comes from knowledge and power, but craves human connection and the beauty and warmth of art. I thought her character would 'come down' to join aloy, and become grounded on earth by forming those relationships and wanting to protect the world after seeing it's beauty and value as elizabets dream. sylens meanwhile comes from this world, but craves knowledge and power and hates the 'primitive tribes' and sees himself as above all of them. I thought that as tilda 'came down' he'd 'go up' by taking the shuttle and going on that quest for knowledge he wants so badly. except instead, he has a change of heart and decides to stay which just seemed so unearned and unexpected to me? right up until that last conversation with aloy, he's still as scornful of her and the earth as he's always been. maybe I could see him going off to space, having second thoughts after spending time alone, and coming back, but in the moment it just feels wrong, especially when I felt like he and tilda were meant to be mirroring each other.

and maybe tilda being the final boss was obvious to others, and I was just blinded by being so ecstatic that she was canonically in a relationship with elizabet. but honestly, her being gay is, in the end, why I was so upset. if she hadnt canonically been with elizabet, and it'd been a headcanon, I'd still be bothered by the end of her story, but it wouldn't have upset me as much. because confirming her as being gay before the boss fight made it a tragic love story that ends up saving the world. confirming her being gay and then making her the final boss that dies makes it seem like her love was toxic. I've already seen people say that maybe she's lying about being with elizabet, and that the love was an unrequited obsession.

it's just. I went from being so happy and excited that she and elizabet were together, to being devastated by the last five minutes. I went from feeling like a game had never fed me so well, to feeling complete whiplash. I went from oh a canon gay ! to having to kill her. I was thinking about the potentials of after the game, like scenes with tilda and the companions, like her painting and adding colour to the base for kotallo, getting back to nature with zo, answering alva's questions, spending time exploring the world with beta and aloy, bonding with gaia over sharing stories about elizabet, starting a relationship because she's an immortal and gaia's an ai and they'll never have to be alone. and now, I haven't touched the game since, and it sucks because I loved it so much.

tldr: went from being ecstatic that tilda was with elizabet canonically and seemed to tie in with the characters as someone who craved human connection over knowledge and technology, to being extremely upset when she turned out to fit the evil predatory lesbian trope, and then we had to kill her.

[rottenlightart]

I've often heard the opinion, that Catra was a terrible friend to Scorpia, and that she didn't care about her. To be honest, I don't agree with that, Catra wasn't the worst friend for Scorpia within her capabilities, and really disagree that Catra didn't care about what will happen to Scorpia. I think their relationship is a little more complex than it seems.

(I'm not claiming that their relationship is “healthy and non-toxic,” and etc, I don't want to put any moral judgment on them because I'm not interested in it)

(I'd write many posts about my thoughts on some of the details of the series, but language barrier is eating me alive. Yes, it's a longread with bad English. I hope my attempts to translate this text are successful, but if it's an unreadable mess, let me know 🥲)

Yep, Catra in s1-s4 screws up with communication. The reasons, as I see it, are pretty obvious— she didn't get proper socialization, and on top of that, she was live in constant danger from birth, which had a big impact on her perception of people and contact with them in general. She never had examples of normal relationships in front of her, but she had plenty of things that would convince her to avoid people. Society around her was built on force and violence, she received a clear message that if only she will be strong people would not be able to harm her. (But Catra had Adora, yes. But their friendship, as perceived by Catra, was clearly antagonistic towards the world. Catra wanted to conquer the world with Adora, not be part of it with her)

Plus in s1 Catra has just lived a situation where the one person who promised her safety left her and started fighting against her. This fact, overlaid with the fact that every person she has ever known in her live, be hostile at her or straight threatened her life , explains to me her inability and unwillingness to have friendships. Perhaps she just doesn't see the point of them, because she never thought she could trust anyone but Adora, and after Adora run away from her life, that option was closed in Catra's perception.

(About "every person she known" - I'm not sure how close it is to headcanon, but I suspect that the other cadets could be bullying Catra behind Adora's back. In her perfect version of reality she interacts with other cadets much more often than in real life, this also convinces me of this)

Why then do I say her relationship to Scorpia is not clearly indifferent when I just say she didn't want friendship? Because I think she did care about Scorpia, but in ways that were possible to Catra. 3 facts speak to me about this. 1 - despite her outbursts of anger, as boss Catra is actually patient with Scorpia

Their relationship until the end of Season 4 would be easier to describe as a partnership; it was like a classic villain-sidekick duo. Scorpia acted like Catra's subordinate (she even call Catra as "our leader"), despite the fact that they were of the same rank, Catra repeatedly gave orders to Scorpia

Catra is bad as a friend who doesn't want to share standard friendship signals, but as a boss she is very patient with Scorpia. The only time she snapped at her, I'll describe below. This may sound rude, but as much as I love her, Scorpia… was a terrible employee. She often fails at tasks that are delegated to her.

She's losing the outposts she's guarding, she's failing with paperwork, she's failing to protect an important artifact... Scorpia screws up almost every order.

(Just in case, I say this without any negativity towards the character, she's not bad, she just wasn't suited for her position.)

And Catra is very patient with this. None of her commanders have ever demonstrated tolerance for failures. Her superiors strangled Catra just for self-affirmation of them, tortured her with magic for her insolent phrases and wanted to execute her for failures, while Catra was rude to Scorpia at worst. Catra showed uncharacteristic restraint with her.

2 - Catra defended Scorpia

There are several episodes where this may be shown The most controversial moment is the prison scene. I'm not sure if Catra's refusal to be rescued was a desire to protect Scorpia from the consequences, rather than emotional vulnerability after being stabbed in the back

Perhaps something in between is true, it's a complex scene. After all, she had nowhere to run, and she knew it.

But next scene is much more indicative. Their relationship changed after Catra's emotional outburst in s4. It was rude and unpleasant, but immediately after that moment Catra takes blame for failure on herself.

She didn't say that important data was lost because of Scorpia (as Catra thought it that moment).

Catra knew that Hordak could kill her for failing, which had almost happened in the past, and Catra was clearly scared in that moment. If Scorpia wasn't important to Catra at all, there wouldn't be any point in protecting her. In fact, there is no rational reason, other than affection, to risk her own life for it.

(In addition, Catra was a victim many times, and standing up to the aggressor from your childhood is an action that requires enormous willpower (trust me I know lol))

3 - Catra was worried about Scorpia when she didn't answer on her call

(It doesn’t look that obvious in the screenshots, but her voice at that moments is very expressive) I think no comments are needed here. Scorpia's departure affected Catra so much that she started looking for her through the security camera. Their breakup was one of the reasons that led to Catra's meltdown.

I could probably take more points, but I think my point of view is already clear.

As I said, their relationship does not seem to me univocal. Their relationships are complex and greatly influenced by the context of their life. This is why I love this series.

Perhaps, if they had more time, then even within the Horde their relationship could have come to balance. In any case, it's pretty bittersweet stuff.

[chimuelo2005-blog]

Viktor Didn’t Just Want to Live—He Wanted to Be Remembered (And Piltover Took That from Him)

Viktor’s illness in Arcane is one of those things that people talk about, but I feel like they only scratch the surface. Yeah, it’s tragic, yeah, it’s why he pushes Hextech so hard, but the way it actually shapes him. His mindset, his relationships, the way he exists in the world is so much deeper than just “he doesn’t want to die.”

Like, Viktor isn’t just running out of time—he feels it, every second of every day. He doesn’t get the luxury of patience, of hesitation, of slow and careful progress. People frame his desperation as a descent into obsession, but let’s be real; when your body is literally failing you and you’re one of the smartest people alive, of course you’re going to throw yourself into your work. What else is he supposed to do? Accept it? Lie down and die? He’s been sick since childhood, and you can see how that shaped him into someone who refuses to waste even a second.

And that’s why his relationship with Jayce is so painful to watch. Jayce is idealistic. He believes in progress, but in a way that’s manageable, controlled. Jayce is thinking about the future in terms of decades. Viktor? He doesn’t have decades. Every time Jayce hesitates, whether it’s about Hextech, about the ethics of what they’re doing, about the council’s approval, it’s not just frustrating for Viktor, it’s terrifying. Every delay, every “we need more time,” feels like another nail in his coffin. And the real tragedy? Viktor knows Jayce cares. He knows Jayce wants to help. But Jayce has the privilege of time, and Viktor doesn’t. That’s a gap that love and friendship alone can’t fix.

And here’s my hot take: Viktor’s biggest fear isn’t just dying. It’s dying without proving he mattered. His whole life, he’s been seen as weak, as fragile, as someone people pity. Hextech isn’t just about survival for him—it’s about legacy. It’s about making sure that when he’s gone, the world will remember him as something more than a sickly kid from the Undercity. And when you look at it that way, his whole arc stops being a “tragic downfall” and starts looking like the only path that ever made sense for him. Because if the alternative is fading away into nothing? Then yeah, of course he’s going to push further. Of course he’s going to risk everything. Because at least if he goes out, he goes out leaving something behind.

And that’s why the fact that people took Viktor’s name off Hextech is actually one of the most tragic things in the show. Like, Hextech wasn’t just some invention for him, it was his life’s work, his legacy, the thing that was supposed to make sure he was remembered. He built that with Jayce. It was supposed to be the proof that he mattered.

And then the second he wasn’t there to fight for his place in history? They erased him.

They didn’t just take away credit. They took away the one thing that kept him going, the thing that made all of his sacrifices mean something. Hextech was supposed to outlive him, and in a way, that was supposed to be his version of immortality. But now? Now it’s just “Jayce Talis’ great invention,” and Viktor is nothing more than a footnote.

Like, imagine dedicating your entire existence to something, burning yourself down to nothing just to make a mark on the world, only for people to turn around and act like you were never there to begin with. That’s not just tragic—it’s devastating. And the worst part? Viktor probably saw it coming. Because deep down, he always knew he wasn’t the kind of person history remembers.

[nintendont2502]

sometimes I think about the strilonde game over deaths. and then I stop thinking

[clarabosswald]

to the 10 non-israeli hostages still in hamas captivity (listed from top left to bottom right):

bipin joshi, 23, nepal. an agronomy student, bipin arrived at israel to study citrus cultivation, only 3 weeks before 7/10. he was staying at kibbutz alumim when the attack started. at first, when the rockets started, bipin sheltered in a bunker with 16 other nepalese foreigners. thinking this was a "regular" attack, and will pass soon, they've even taken a group selfie, which one of them had uploaded to facebook with the caption "bunker time". bipin can be seen in this photo.

fear settled in when the sound of gunfire was getting closer. terrorists briefly entered the bunker at first, shooting at the men. two were instantly killed - one who was filming with his phone, and one who shouted "we're nepalese!" the terrorists have then started throwing grenades into the bunker. the men have crowded against the wall - except for bipin, who jumped at the grenades to throw them away. he was successful with the first grenade; but the second one exploded before he could get to it, and left several of the men injured and unconscious. the terrorists have moved on from the bunker, and later the men heard distant shouts of israeli officers, who arrived at the active scene of the attack, instructing them to come to a nearby kitchen for better shelter. while a few of the men immediately went there, bipin and a few of his friends tried to first aid those who were injured by the grenade. it was during this time that he quickly texted his cousin, in english: “If something happens to me you have to take care of my family. Be strong and always see the future.” it was then that two terrorists broke into the bunker. one, pointing a gun at the men left inside, instructed them to come outside with him. the other filmed them with his phone - with the footage being the last time bipin was seen. bipin's phone was later located in the gaza strip.

2. sudthisak rinthalak, 43, thailand. a farm worker, he was working the orchards of kibbutz be'eri on the morning of the attack. he was murdered on the spot, and his body kidnapped into the gaza strip. his death was confirmed to his family on may 16, 2024, following an investigation of the available evidence. may he rest in peace.

3. watchara sriaoun, 32, thailand. a farm worker, he was kidnapped from kibbutz nir oz, where he was working. watchara arrived in israel back in 2020 with his brother, in order to cover their family debt and pay their father's medical bills. apart from his mother and brother, waiting for him back home is also watchara's 9 year old daugher, irada, whose mother died in august 2024.

4. sathian suwannakham, 35, thailand. a farm worker from kibbutz nir oz, he arrived at israel in 2020. sathian was seriously injured during his kidnapping. his mother found out about it via a video on facebook; she, alongside sathian's father and sister, are still waiting in thailand for any word on him.

5. pongsak tanna, 36, thailand. a farm worker, he would often livestream while working, talking to his father wilas, or his 14 year old daughter. on the morning of 7/10, pongsak video called his father. during the 10 minute call, he described the chaos of rockets and gunfire, shouting at people around him to hide from the terrorists. eventually the signal was cut. pongsak was kidnapped into the gaza strip. during the weeks after 7/10, wilas spent days riding his bike around his home province, alongside the thailand-cambodia border, looking for anyone with a relative in israel who could help him search for pongsak. he had spent thousands of bahts (hundreds of dollars) repeatedly submitting legal documents to the government, in hope for any news on his son. “if my son is alive, whenever israel can get the hostages released, I want (him) to come home quickly to (his) hometown," silas said in an interview back in october 2024. “most importantly, i want my son to be ordained (as a buddhist monk) for his mom who died when he was away."

6. bannawat seathao, 27, thailand. a farm worker, he was shot in the leg before being kidnapped.

7. nattapong pinta, 35, thailand. nicknamed "nick", nattapong, a farm worker, came to work in israel a year and a half before 7/10, leaving his wife and young son, in order to pay off a debt and help his wife fulfill her dream of opening a coffee shop. he worked the avocado groves in nir oz. during the occasional rocket attacks, nick would call his older sister, reassuring her. "i’m just saving up a little more money, then i’ll be coming back.” on the morning of 7/10, nick called him wife, narissara. there was shooting, he said, and he was running away. that was the last she heard from him. "i felt like my heart was being squeezed when i learned that he hadn't been freed yet," narissara said. "i will definitely go to the airport [when he returns]. nothing will stop me."

8. suntaya akrasi, 20, thailand. a farm worker, suntaya was murdered on 7/10 while working near kibbutz be'eri, then his body was kidnapped into the gaza strip. his death was confirmed on may 16th, 2024. may he rest in peace.

9. joshua loitu mollel, 21, tanzania. an agronomy student, he arrived at israel 3 weeks before 7/10, planning to stay for 11 months. both joshua and his roomate, clemence felix mtenga (22), a fellow student from tanzania, were murdered in nir oz. at first, the pair had managed to text a fellow tanzanian intern in the kibbutz, ezekiel kitiku, telling him that they were running for shelter. but after a few hours, the texts have stopped. joshua's violent kidnapping was filmed and posted online, showing the terrorists stabbing and shooting him several times. joshua's body was kidnapped into the strip; clemence's body was identified a month later. joshua's death was confirmed in december 2023. joshua was the oldest of 5 children, and his stay in israel was his first time traveling outside of tanzania. joshua's father told of joshua's younger siblings that they "ask me every morning and night: ‘Dad, we want to talk to our brother.'" may joshua and clemence rest in peace.

10. surasak lamnau, 30, thailand. a farm worker at first, surasak's mother, kanmee, had no idea what happened to her son. in the chaos following the events of 7/10, his colleagues in israel told her that they did not see him. but after she posted about him online, she was told that he was one of 5 people - an israeli employer and his 4 thai employees - who were kidnapped. his fate is currently unknown.

none of these 10 hostages are expected to be released during the first phase of the ceasefire deal between israel and hamas.

of the 82 foreign nationals who were killed during the 7/10 events, 46 were thai, 10 were nepalese (all agronomy students who were murdered in kibbutz alumim), 5 chinese (3 were murdered in sderot); 4 were from the philippines (3 were working as nurses in the gaza envelope, one was killed in the nova festival massacre); two nurses from sri lanka (both murdered in kibbutz be'eri); two were from tanzania; 2 were from the uk; 2 were from the usa; and the others were from germany, moldova, canada, cambodia, eritrea, india, mexico, ukraine, and geogria. 32 foreign nationals were kidnapped. most of them thai. 647 foreign nationals were injured.

[roadkill-punk]

Hi gang sorry I like burnt out and exploded here's a wip + Gabriel face headcanon. Righteous hands of the father or whatever.

Don't look too hard at the hand anatomy it'll get fixed like. Eventually.

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[motziedapul]

Doomerism is a privilege. Many of you don't know how to identify privileges you have; this is one of them.

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent things and such~

[actual-corpse]

Just got a rude reminder about how great it is to never have children/ be an only child.

There's too much drama involved with dying, apparently.

[swagging-back-to]

call me crazy but i wish we saw even more of katniss grieving prim.

i dont think ive finished the second Mockingjay book, but in the movie esp it feels like 'the sister i sacrificed EVERYTHING to save was blown up and burnt to a crisp in front of me. im kinda sad, ig. im way more excited to get knocked up and have that baby tho!!!!!!!!!!!!'

[blujayonthewing]

I've thought a lot about the several thousand year old gnome druid we met who was just bitter and jaded and had spent most of those millennia sitting in one place not doing anything in particular except mourning her tiefling wife who'd died millennia ago, and how disgusted and infuriated with her melliwyk is, personally but also as a gnome herself-- and I'm thinking about it again like. honestly I think it goes beyond general cultural values; that level of willful ongoing stagnation and joyless nihilism is probably completely seriously a gnomish sin