#recognition of the self through the other (evil)

[canary-song]

I couldn't get myself invested in the Noir run of his + have little information on his character, but I do deeply want Daredevil and Noir Spiderman to be the weirdest duo known to New York.

[sammygender]

THANK YOU OLI I don't get the season 8 hype. No Cas, Sam and Dean have the same conflict they've been having the entire show with no new angles like why????

YEAH LITERALLY. inital conflict is literally dean being angry at sam for trying to move on and heal which is just so intensely unlikeable and for some reason i was shocked by it and it made me genuinely dislike him. to me dean is at his most awful in s8..... like he's not. he's definitely not. gadreel possession in s9 and like most of s9/10 with the mark is much worse than anything he does in s8 and killing amy in s7 was sooo awful too. but dean is just so intensely a dick in s8 and i was so angry with him and not even in a fun way. like in s9/10 he is AWFUL but i enjoyed the drama. i didnt even enjoy the interpersonal drama in s8. which is when you know something is wrong

then again. im probably too harsh on it and am basing it off memories of sitting through the first half because i LOVE the trials and sacrifice and the great escapist so so much. and i love kevin <3 he's s8 right. but. to me s8 will always be the worst season. maybe i just hate what it brings to the shows canon. sam leaving dean for a girl and a dog (which is NOT EVEN WHAT HAPPENED... and if it WAS it wouldve been justified.... id support sam even if i thought he abandoned dean unprovoked idc.....) is constantly brought back like the worst of his sins even as late as like. s11. SHUT UP. first half of s8 is just upsetting for sam reasons and not in a fun way

[miiracleboys]

kenma and kunimi could be a deadly combination for literally everyone else around them but i firmly believe that they’d take one look at each other and go

[mantisgodsdomain]

Vi and Mothiva is the thing where you meet someone who has the EXACT same mental illness as you who can relate more than anyone else you know and you gain either an incredible drive for self-improvement or an incredible drive for murder within the hour as you come face to face with every single negative trait and bit of hypocrisy you've previously been simply allowing to exist in yourself.

[anthythesis]

I am a person in love with the impossible (happy asoiaf siblings)

[talewrites]

Fragile Part 7

Sorry for the wait! It was hard to focus while writing this chapter, so I might be editing it for mistakes here and there. I hope you like it! :] <3

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, broken limbs, violence, drowning, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were laying dazed on the cold metal floor. In too much pain to focus on anything else besides breathing. You heard a commotion, voices muffled through the thick glass. At least inside this tube they couldn’t touch you anymore. Your mind strayed to the turtles. You weren’t able to save them. You weren’t able to do anything. You just hope they can somehow get away safely. That April and Casey can somehow save them.

“I won’t ask again…. Where’s (y/n).” Leo growled. He grit his teeth as he lowered his stance, ready to strike.

Baxter Stockman was quickly typing commands into the program on his computer. Karai stepped in front of him and drew her katana.

“Out of your reach, Turtles.” 

“Aaaaand, there!” Stockman hit one last key on this computer and a red light started to flash on the tank, bringing the turtle’s attention to the crumpled form inside the glass. At the same time a multitude of files and programs started closing on the screen one after another, Stockman’s signature digital self-destruct program. Baxter stepped away from his computer and lifted his arms up triumphantly.

The sound of rattling pipes overhead catches your attention. 

“Ha! You’re too late, Turtles. For years, the Foot Clan has sought out the means to fight you mutants on equal footing. And now, we have our secret weapon! An endless supply of pure mutagen!!!” 

You heard a loud beeping sound, then a click, and the squeak of metal.

A gush of icy water pours down on you from above. The sudden cold shocks you and marginally distracts you from the pain. You pull yourself to the edge of the glass away from the heavy stream of water coming down from above, slowly starting to fill the base. You take a shaky deep breath and bang a fist on the glass. No use. Dizzy and numb, you look outside the tank for someone, something, anything that might help you. That’s when you see them.

And with dawning horror, they see you.

“Guys….?” You press your wet hand up against the glass. They’re here! They’re safe!!!

“(Y/n)....? (Y/N)!!!!” Leo shouts and lunges towards the tank. He tries to rush up to the glass but Rocksteady blocks his path. There’s blood on your cheek, and even a good distance away he can tell you’re in bad shape. 

“OUT OF OUR WAY!” Raph roared at Bebop and Rocksteady, crossing his sai in preparation for a fight.

“Uuuh hey guys? Why is (y/n) in a giant fish bowl…?” Mikey asked, nunchucks at the ready.

“They ain’t comin’ out anytime soon, short stack.” Bebop said with an evil grin. 

“You turtles totally fell for our trap!” Rocksteady chuckled.

Donnie immediately noticed the computer hooked up to the tank’s controls. He tried to subtly sneak past Bebop to get to Stockman but Karai stepped forward and blocked his path.

Karai pointed her sword at Donnie. “The Foot will be unstoppable.”

“And I will FINALLY get the recognition I deserve, for single-handedly creating an entire race of superhumans that will rule over the city!!!” 

“You’re crazy!! You don’t even know what kind of side effects that mutation will have on regular humans!” Donnie activated the electricity at the end of his bo staff, ready to fight Karai to get to Stockman. 

“I do have to thank you turtles for activating their mutant gene. Without your help, none of this would be possible!” Stockman’s laugh echoed through the large room. He waltz over to the canister filling up with the distilled mutagen from your blood. “We originally got (y/n) by a…. foreseeable mistake. But to our surprise, they survived where others had failed. And yet- their results were incomplete. Their animal DNA wasn’t materializing no matter what we did to them. So we came back to New York, where the population could supply us with countless more test subjects.” Baxter said cheerfully, popping the lid off the canister. “But now that we have the results we wanted, we have no need of them! We can preserve (y/n)’s body in a special chemical compound that will put them into a permanent hibernation. No need to worry, their body will be harnessed for science!” Stockman’s laugh was deep and evil, and to everyone’s shock-

He dumped the canister of mutagen over his own head.

Karai lept back out of the trajectory of the splash. Baxter’s laugh increased in volume as he began to morph and change. His head and eyes grew large, his body shrank, little papery wings sprouted from his back, and he mutated into a giant mutant fly. 

Bebop and Rocksteady were stunned by the transformation. “Eeeeewwww… he turned into a bug?” Bebop whined.

“Nasty!” Rocksteady shook his head. Neither of them were paying attention to the turtles so Raph and Donnie covered for Leo and Mikey to make a break for the tank you were in. By now it had filled enough that you were starting to float.

“We’re here babe! We’re gonna get you out!” Mikey reassured you. 

You whimpered helplessly. You were having a hard time keeping your head above water, not really able to swim with a broken dislocated arm and broken ankle. 

“Stay back!” Leo sliced at the glass, and Mikey hit it with his nunchucks as hard as he could, but their attacks barely left a scratch!

“Guys! We have incoming!” Donnie yelled as Stockman had started flying around the room, maniacally laughing as he swooped down and kicked the back of Mikey’s shell, almost knocking him over. 

“Dude, gross!” Mikey protested. Stockman looked to be drooling some kind of acid substance from his mouth.

Bebop and Rocksteady had recovered and started to charge towards them. Leo and Mikey had to jump away from your tank to avoid getting trampled. 

“Donnie, that glass is as hard as steel!!” Leo jumped up and kicked Rocksteady across his cheek, then retreated.

“What’re we gonna do? (Y/n)’s tank is already half full!” Raph shouted. He was using his sai to hold back Bebop’s tusks as he tried to charge them. 

You were doing your best to calm your breathing enough that you could float, but every time your head ducked below water you panicked. Your body was exhausted and protested against your desperate movements, but you needed to survive long enough for the boys to break you out.

“Donnie! See if you can turn off the water!!! I’ve got Karai.” Leo ordered

“Mikey! It’s you and me!” Raph called over, clanging his sai together and shouted a war cry running up to strike Rocksteady. 

“What?! What about the bug brained dude??!! Eep!” Mikey ducked as Stockman flew over his head. He looked down and realized he was kneeling at the feet of Bebop, who had taken the black taser out of his pocket.

“You wanna taste too, little man?” 

When Bebop flicked on the taser, Mikey saw the small stains of fresh blood on the pointed tips that buzzed with electricity. He looked back over to you struggling in the tank and how heavily injured you looked.

He saw red.

Mikey had a rare moment of true anger as he jumped to his feet and knocked the taser out of Bebop’s hand with his nunchucks, and in a flurry of rapid hits he beat back the warthog. He finished him off with a powerful roundhouse kick to the head.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING WITH MY BAE!” He shouted triumphantly.

Raph looked back to Mikey with wide eyes, proud of his little bro for letting loose. “Woah. Way to go Mikey!” He ducked a hit from Rocksteady and punched him hard under his chin. Knocking him out cold. 

Leo was crossing swords with Karai. She was a skilled fighter. But he was much stronger than her. While he pushed her back with a heavy strike, she slipped on some of the mutagen that had spilled on the floor, allowing Leo to take advantage of the opening and disarmed her. He flicked her sword out of her hand and knocked her back. She glared daggers at him, quickly recovering. But seeing as Bebop and Rocksteady were knocked out, she opted for a tactical retreat.

“This is just the beginning.” She hissed and ran out of the lab door. 

Stockman was buzzing around your tank, still laughing maniacally. 

“You turtlezzzzz cannot defeat the mighty Dr Stockman!! I am invincible!! I am-“

Donnie turned on the taser at the end of his bo staff and vaulted it at the annoying human insect, striking him and electrocuting him, knocking him out of the air to fall on the floor with a gross splat.

“Good thing I always carry a bug zapper.” He deadpanned.

Donnie went back to trying to hack into Stockmans computer. He managed to get past the firewall with his hacking program, but he discovered that all of the interfaces connected to the tank control had been erased. 

There was no way to stop the tank from filling up completely. Donnie would have to write a whole new interface from scratch to control the tank.

There was no time.

You were running out of air, trying desperately to keep your head above water as the tank was almost full to the top. You took in one last deep breath just as the water consumed the last of the space. You held your good hand over your mouth and nose hard, trying to hold in the air, and floated down towards the bottom of the tank. 

No more air.

“(Y/N)!!!” 

“ANGEL CAKES!!!” Donnie and Mikey yelled out in panic.

Your eyes snapped open, hearing their muffled voices outside the tank. You swam over to the glass and met eyes with Raphael. He had picked a spot and began punching at the glass over and over again with his sai in his fists.

The needled jabs just managed to scratch the surface. 

You looked at him sadly through the glass. He was stressed, sweating and desperate to break through. Mikey had grabbed a chair and had chucked it at the glass from another spot but it just bounced off and broke on the floor.

Leo was standing behind Donnie with his hand on his shoulder, but his eyes didn’t leave your face. 

Time was running out. You were choking on the stale air in your lungs. Head getting dizzy from lack of oxygen. You removed your hand from your mouth and pressed it up to the glass, some bubbles of air escaping your mouth. Your eyebrows knit together to concentrate on not breathing in the fluid in the tank. But you were suffocating and in pain. 

It was hard.

You looked back up at Raph, and forced a smile on your face. You felt sad. You didn’t want them to see you like this. They felt so far away. 

Darkness was consuming your vision. The last remaining bubbles of air escaped from your mouth and your eyes slipped closed. 

“NO!!! NO-! (Y/N), STAY WITH US.” Raph pounded his fist hard against the glass. 

“DAMN IT.” Donnie frustratingly slammed his fist down next to the keyboard, his head falling into his hands. None of the lines of command coding he was typing in were working.

Leo left Donnie’s side and strode up to the tank.

“Move.” Leo ordered as he came up behind Raph. He unsheathed his swords and began slicing at the glass again. It was barely making a scratch. But combined with the small dents Raph had been making, he was slowly chipping away at the surface.

“Leo! If you can manage to cut 1.2 centimeters deep, it should weaken the glass enough to shatter with enough force!” Donnie yelled from where he was still furiously typing into the stationed keyboard. His attempts to unlock the system all in vain. 

Leo and Raph worked together to stab and slice at the weakest point in the glass until finally-

*crack*

A small fracture appeared in the glass. 

“There!!” Donnie called out. Raph and Leo switched to charging at the door and ramming it full force with their shoulders. Over and over as the cracks grew wider and wider.

Mikey came over, and with a hand on Leo’s shoulder, the leader stepped aside to let his little brother help. Mikey joined Raph and rammed the glass again with such force the crack split all the way across the glass. One more strike-

The glass shattered on impact.

The gush of water that burst through swept Mikey and Raph off their feet. The floor of the lab flooded, and your body washed up on the floor. Lifeless and unmoving.

“(Y/N)!!!!!!” The boys all yelled. 

Leo reached you first, falling into a kneel at your side. He ripped out the two needles from your back and held you in his arms. Donnie rushed over and slid down into the other spot at your side, his goggles pulled into place as he quickly checked you over.

“They’re not breathing. Put them down flat, now.” Leo obeyed and laid you on your back. Donnie first pressed down on your diaphragm to check for water blocking your lungs, then began compressions. 

The room was dead quiet all except for the sounds of Donnie’s whispered counting as he pressed down on your chest. He paused, opened your mouth, pinched your nose, and breathed into your lungs. 

Mikey was nervously walking around you back and forth, and Raph watched you from a distance, a vacant expression as he watched your face for any sign of movement, pleading with himself for you to be okay. 

After what felt like an eternity, you coughed. Leo quickly rolled you lay on your side. You spit up water, gasping for air. You felt like you were coughing up a lung full of ethanol. 

Mikey cheered and Raph took a deep breath, covering his face with his hands. Donnie fell backwards onto his butt and pulled his goggles off his head, so incredibly relieved you were breathing. Leo rubbed your back comfortingly as you got your breathing back under control.

Once you got a suitable amount of oxygen back in your lungs, you whimpered. Your throat was burning and a pain in your stomach and chest made it hard to breathe.

Leo picked you up again, and held you close to his chest. Your eyes fluttered open and you winced at the bright light from the ceiling.

“Welcome back.” Leo said with a smile on his face.

“Leo…?” Your voice was quiet and scratchy. You looked around at Donnie, Mikey, and Raph that all came into view around you and Leo.

“Guys….?” You felt barely conscious. Head foggy and tired like you were under water.

“We’re right here.” Donnie assured you, reaching down to pick up your good hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

All the fear and emotion of drowning and being captured suddenly crashed down on you all at once. You sniffed and big tears gathered in your eyes.

“I was… so scared… I thought I was going to lose you….!” You hiccuped and sobbed as Leo held your trembling form tightly against his chest.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here. We got you.” Leo soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. He buried his nose into your damp hair and held you tight.

“You had us worried there for a minute!” Donnie was smiling at you, soft and relieved. Mikey was standing behind him rubbing tears out of his eyes.

“Let’s get you home.” Raph said, kneeling down behind you. 

“Wait. I need to splint their arm and their ankle first. Mikey, can you find me some-“

*crack*

“Will this work?” 

Mikey had already broken off the thin legs of a chair across the room. 

“Yeah that works fine.” He pulled out two rolls of gauze from one of the pockets on his belt, and took the offered sticks from Mikey, who knelt down by your feet. 

“What’re we gonna do about him?” He asked, motioning over to Stockman’s twitching form across the room.

The brothers all sneered at the fly mutant with similar levels of disgust on their faces, finding him rather gross. You smiled.

“Just leave him there, we can worry about him another time.” Leo offered, adjusting you in his grip. You winced terribly when your arm was moved. 

“….Is ...your arm dislocated?” Leo asked you, holding you upright in a sitting position, now thoroughly checking you over. 

Donnie and Mikey were working together to splint your ankle, Mikey holding up your foot while Donnie wrapped the splint to it.

“Let me see that.” Raph placed his hands on your shoulder and you clenched your teeth and whined quietly at the sharp pain.

“Leo, hold them still for a minute.” 

“Just hold onto me tightly, it’ll be over in a second.” Leo hugged you close, wrapping an arm around your good side.

Raph got hold of your tender arm, and with practiced ease, popped your shoulder back into place. You cried out loudly and buried your face in Leo’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. 

Raph tried to rub the soreness out of your poor shoulder. “Good job, princess. Now let Donnie get a look at that break.”

You hesitantly detached yourself from Leo, your shaking red and swollen arm was carefully picked up by Donnie, who set the splint and carefully wrapped the bandages.

“I’ll be able to get a better look at it with the x-ray machine back at home. For now we just have to be really careful not to jostle them too much when carrying them back.”

“I got em.” Raph volunteered. Leo looked to Raph, wordlessly nodding his head for his brother to take you from his arms.

“Careful of their arm….”

“Got it.” 

Without much effort, Raph scooped you up in his big arms. You winced as a sharp stabbing pain radiated through your stomach as you were held close to Raph’s chest.

Something was definitely wrong.

“I’m sorry, princess. It’s just until we get you home.” Raph apologized. Leo led everyone quickly out of the lab. 

Once back out in the hallway you had entered from, you noticed with visible shock the literal sea of bodies that covered the floor. Foot ninja. They fought through all of them, just to get to you.

Everyone exited the lab, careful to stick to the shadows as the sun began to rise. As the turtles made their way for their home, your stomach burned worse and worse with a white hot pain that radiated through your body. The movement of the city passing you by made you become dizzy, and your head felt like it was spinning. You felt nauseous and incredibly tired. 

“Hey Raph….?”

“Yeah princess?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you guys…. You had to save me instead….” You weren’t making any sense. Raph could barely hear you as the wind whipped past his head. You just felt so tired.

“Hey, stay with me, princess. We’re almost there. It’s okay.” Raph didn’t know what the right thing to say was. But your eyes were starting to slide closed.

“Can we…. Can we watch Princess Bride again…. When we get home….?”

Raph smiled at that.

“Yeah. We’ll watch it as many times as you want, short stack.” He didn’t care if his brothers teased him for secretly liking your girly movie. He didn’t care if he had to watch it with you a hundred times. He just wanted you to get better.

“We’re almost there. How you holding up?” 

Silence. 

“(Y/n)…?”

“Mmh?” 

Your eyes were closed.

“Come on, wake up, we’re almost there.”

He was desperate. 

“Mm…hm…” 

You hummed, but your eyelids felt too heavy to lift. You felt yourself sinking into a dark liquid abyss. You could no longer fight the pull.

“(Y/n)….. (y/n)? Hey…! Hey, no no no no no, you gotta stay awake. Come on princess…! (Y/N)!!!”

You felt Raph try to shake you awake, felt his muscles tense as he pushed himself to go faster. 

“We’re almost there, hold on…!”

“Hold on….”

Darkness overtook you.

Part 8

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x @leonardo-dabitchy @sh1ga-to3s

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 2

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem!reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Notes : A ride in Hogwarts express and the awaited House sorting

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

You were showing off your new owl to your mom, Euphemia, who smiled at the owl "He indeed is cute, what have you named it".

"Altair" you had exclaimed when James came running, more like dragging one of his friends.

"Mom, mom, meet him, It's Sirius" James exclaimed pointing at the other guy who stiffly bowed,

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Potter".

Euphemia smiled pushing him up by his shoulders, "There's no need for such formalities dear". Sirius smiled, relaxing, then he glanced at you and smirked, "You must be the baby potter"

You turned at your brother glaring, "Baby potter", to which he just shrugged.

Turning to Sirius, you extended your hand, "I am Y/N Potter, one year younger, so not a baby".

Sirius chuckled shaking your hand, "If that pleases you".

Euphemia laughed, "Okay now, Sirius why don't you join us, we were gonna go for ice-cream". Sirius looked conflicted, "I would have loved to Mrs.Potter but my mother would kill me if I don't return back". Euphemia nodded, "Later then".

The rest of the shopping went by quick, you had brought many new books, like :-

"A detailed guide to mastering the first year " by Hana Dygh

"The Dark Forces : A Guide to self protection" by Quentin Trimble

with some other light reads. After you two had brought everything required, living and non living, you left the alley with a new member, Altair.

You were packed for Hogwarts, standing at the station you hugged your mom, while your dad was telling James to take care of you, since he was the older brother, which james grudgingly agreed to, earning a light slap on the back of his head. You hugged your dad and told them goodbyes, promising to write to them.

You got on the train with James, who wandered through the cabins before stopping on one where two boys were sitting and talking. One of them was comparatively small, with little eyes, while the other was quite lanky, with was a strange scar running down his neck, he was to first to glance up.

"Hey Mate", they all hugged each other while you stood quite awkwardly at the side, "And this is my sis, Y/N", you shook their hands as they introduced themselves,

"Peter Pettigrew, nice to meet you"

"Remus Lupin, pleasure to meet you"

"Pleasure to meet you too", you said shaking his hand, there seemed to be a wound on his wrist too, it seemed fresh, like an animal's claw, was he attacked, however you didn't stare, instead moved to sit beside James.

The train gate was banged open, huffing wildly, Sirius was standing there grinning, "Hello Guys" he grinned, however behind him you saw the same boy you had seen at the pet shop, he seemed almost embarassred at Sirius's antics, more so as everyone's eye shifted to him.

"This thing here is the new pride of the noble house of Black, Regulus" Sirius announced patting his shoulder.

The boy, Regulus seemed to cower more in itself, glancing tensely, until they landed at you, stopping in recognition. You smiled extending your hand to him, "Y/N Potter". He gently shook it. "Regulus Black"

The train ride was quite tense at first but then, it slowly eased into a more comfortable environment as everyone began talking about their summer, you learned about the various books Remus has read, about Sirius's "evil" as he claimed mothter. However, Regulus sitting infront of you was mostly reserved, so you tried your best to open him up.

"I named my owl Altair, what did you name yours?"

Regulus seemed to be lost in a deep thought, before blurting "Vega"

"That's a nice name"

"Thanks" he uttered the lightest pink dusting his cheeks.

The dusk came soon as the sun dipped into the horizon. The train landed at Hogmeade station, which you looked at wide eyed, it was a beautiful sight, you had heard them talk about it but it was different actually looking at it.

"Open your mouth a bit more and it will fall off" James snickered, leading you to hit him. "Okay, zouwu, first years go by the boat, don't fall in the river"

Sirius snapped his head at you, "Zouwu"

James turned excitedly, "It's a really funny story, on-oomph" James huffed as you hit him again, and fell silent after you threatened him with an embarassing story of his. They all went to the carraiges while you and Regulus joined other 1st years on the boat ride.

The boat you were on consisted of you, Rgulus, a girl named Ismelda and a guy named Barnaby. The dark lake was pitch black, with only the reflection of lights hung on your boats.

Barnaby searched his pockets, "Do you want to see in the black lake, I have someth-" a splash echoed as he slipped into the lake, without thinking you jumped after him, in the icy cold water. Seeing only darkness, you wildly flung your hand until your hand graabbed his leg, holding it you broke the surface, barely able to keep up, you felt two pair of hands wrap around you pulling you and Barnaby up, who coughed and gasped.

Regulus looked at you, "Are you okay?"

Barnaby spluttered, "I'm fine", causing you to snort.

Soon both of you were dry with a swoosh of Professor McGonagoll's wand, who looked at you pointedly, something about potters always present during troubles, and led to the great hall for house sorting. One by one students were called and sorted, leading a cheer from their respective houses. Regulus went before you, sitting apprehensively at the stool.

"SLYTHERIN"

You glanced at Sirius, who visibly slumped, eyes glinting with dissapointment. Regulus looked relaxed but solemn. And soon your name was called, before the hat covered your eyes, you saw James giving you a thumbs-up with a wide grin. Sitting in anticipation, you waited in baited breath, suddenly a voice spoke to you, in your mind,

"Hmm, you seem to have a wandering mind yet its sharp, theres bravery, potential"

Thrn it was a sharp silence, and a loud cheer as your ears rang and you tried to make sure you had heard correctly,

"SLYTHERIN"

[luckshmi]

Exploring Mars in the 12 Houses

Mars, the red planet, holds a prominent position in Vedic astrology. Known as Mangal or Kuja in Sanskrit, Mars is revered as the planet of action, energy, and vitality. Its dynamic and assertive nature imparts a fiery intensity to our lives, shaping our ambitions, desires, and endeavors.

It signifies courage, strength, and determination, urging us to rise above challenges and pursue our goals with unwavering resolve. Mars inspires us to embrace our inner warrior, empowering us to confront obstacles head-on and emerge victorious in the battlefield of life.

Mars governs various aspects of our existence, from our physical vitality and sexual prowess to our ability to assert ourselves and take decisive action. It rules over attributes like ambition, passion, and competitiveness, fueling our drive for success and achievement.

Mars, with its fiery temperament, resonates with the color red, symbolizing passion, power, and vitality. Its corresponding gemstone, the red coral, is believed to enhance Mars' positive influences and mitigate its malefic effects.

Mars is associated with the divine archetype of Kartikeya, the courageous and valorous son of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati. Kartikeya embodies the martial spirit and represents the triumph of righteousness over evil, serving as a potent symbol of courage, leadership, and protection.

1/ Mars in the 1st House: Mars in the 1st house embodies dynamic energy. Individuals are natural leaders, exuding confidence and assertiveness. Devotion is expressed through self-expression, taking bold initiatives, and leading with passion.

2/ Mars in the 2nd House: Mars in the 2nd house infuses vigor into financial matters. Individuals express devotion by actively managing resources, taking action to secure financial stability, and asserting themselves in matters of values and possessions.

3/ Mars in the 3rd House: Mars in the 3rd house fuels communicative prowess. Devotion is shown through assertive communication, taking initiative in relationships with siblings, and being proactive in intellectual pursuits.

4/ Mars in the 4th House: Mars in the 4th house brings dynamism to the home. Devotion is expressed through protective instincts, taking action to create a secure home environment, and passionately caring for family matters.

5/ Mars in the 5th House: Mars in the 5th house ignites creative pursuits. Devotion is shown through passionate self-expression, taking risks in artistic endeavors, and actively engaging in activities that bring joy and fulfillment.

6/ Mars in the 6th House: Mars in the 6th house channels energy into service. Devotion is expressed through taking action to help others, actively participating in routines, and asserting oneself to overcome challenges.

7/ Mars in the 7th House: Mars in the 7th house emphasizes relationship dynamics. Devotion is shown through assertiveness in partnerships, taking initiative to maintain balance, and actively working together to achieve shared goals.

8/ Mars in the 8th House: Mars in the 8th house dives into transformative experiences. Devotion is expressed through deep emotional connections, taking action to explore the mysteries of life, and facing challenges with courage.

9/ Mars in the 9th House: Mars in the 9th house fuels adventurous pursuits. Devotion is shown through taking action in spiritual exploration, passionately pursuing higher knowledge, and actively participating in philosophical discussions.

10/ Mars in the 10th House: Mars in the 10th house energizes career endeavors. Devotion is expressed through ambitious pursuits, taking bold steps in the professional realm, and asserting oneself to achieve recognition and success.

11/ Mars in the 11th House: Mars in the 11th house energizes social connections. Devotion is shown through actively participating in group activities, taking action to achieve shared objectives, and passionately supporting friends.

12/ Mars in the 12th House: Mars in the 12th house navigates spiritual realms. Devotion is expressed through inner strength, taking action in solitary pursuits, and actively engaging in practices that foster spiritual growth.

[faeryarchives]

I have no idea if your requests are open or not so I apologize if they're closed 😭🫶

But could I request the octatrio with a fischl reader (female if possible ♡)

I love the octatrio sm rn and I rarely see any works with them so I just had to request

hi hi anon of course! do you think they would accidentally create an elemental reaction whenever floyd pokes oz 🧐

octavinelle with a fischl-like female reader!

a mysterious girl called "prinzessin der verurteilung" travels with oz, a night raven. through her unique abilities, eccentric character, and hard work, she has become a rising star among the guild's investigators, earning all the recognition. and yet she still fares mostly on her own

༉‧₊˚. azul ashengrotto

you were an unpredictable and quite eccentric person! its true that you have a quite different way of talking from others but it made you stand out!

"you dare to call my familiar and grim as monsters?! you must prepare your self, because it is time for retribution!"

"where did you get that bow?!"

"mein fraülein, if i dare to say so - that isn't one of your lines. but thank you for defending me."

your achievements in the school mainly were praiseworthy, azul knew for a fact that you were a strong one that he didn't want to come across with

until you got roped into the octavinelle issue and instead of looking at him with disdain - you were even willing to help him out?! maybe those rumors about you were true at all

as being someone who will willingly go out their way to help others in your own way, even if you come out harsh

what bothered azul most was how you were quick to intervene his plans as well as helping him with his problems

"why are we walking around school? where is oz?" "my dear familiar is taking his good rest. as for the reason of walking around - well i heard from a little bird that you are having a hard time on something. would you like to accept her majesty's help?"

surely and slowly, he was beginning to see right through you, even without oz's interpretation and to be honest? you weren't so difficult to understand at all

the most likely to spoil you rottens by letting you do as you please whenever you went to go visit their dorm

"didn't you mention before that you like reading? you can borrow some of my books here because it just so happens that i am an avid reader myself!" "...! i-i never thought that you were keeping that in mind, thank you azul."

as time goes by, the bad rumors surrounding you gradually dissipative → students will think twice of talking shit about you because this comes as a package deal for being friends with the octavinelle dorm leader.

༉‧₊˚. jade leech

"one is aware that fate has brought me into this path. hm-hm, may the glory of the prinzessin bring light to this wicked world." "oh my, how bold of you to address our world as such!"

true, jade couldn't really understand how you were able to say such things in front of the whole school and shrug it off

he is the type of friend that would take his time to sit down and listen for you for hours and even ask some questions about your previous adventures

"you met your evil twin?" "it was more like a shadow version of me, and oz here decided it was fun to leave me for her." "*gasp* i take full offense to that!" "oh my god, the prinzessin's most beloved familiar is a traitor."

jade knew for a fact that you were entirely different from the octatrio so he tries to steer you away from trouble as much as possible but with your friends and sometimes even floyd, maybe sometimes are not just possible

don't tell the other two but if you would pick someone trust the most to see you behind your act - it would be jade

knowing how observant he is, you wouldn't be surprised if he had seen through you already but you trust him enough and that's all you need

"hmm, this is troubling..."

"what seems to be the problem?"

"it looks like one of the students broke the contract and went hiding among his peers."

"that sounds like a problem, but no worries we can assist you."

color him surprise after seeing your investigation skills 😮 the task that should've took a day to complete got immediately solved less than half a day

and your fighting skills are extraordinary! from that day on, you would get extra allowance every time the octatrio need your help

while you seem capable of yourself, jade took it as his and floyd's responsibility to look after you because you were still kinda an airhead

"(name)..."

"i forgot the stove was still on..."

as you hail into their world as an outsider, he will do his best to provide you the best experience until you bring the glory of the prinzessin among them - after all, that is what friends for

༉‧₊˚. floyd leech

you are such an interesting fishie! or are you a bird? did you just turn into a bird? can you teach him that too?

it was like he finally met someone on the sam wavelength because floyd surprisingly went along with your act - taking the role as your confidant

"ne, ne (name) - can oz talk to other birds?"

"my dear ozzie?"

"'cuz if he can talk in human language can he understand animal language or he is just built different?"

if you think that sometimes you can't understand yourself, you couldn't understand floyd even more!

each of his random question just made you wonder your whole existence because this man will text you at 2 am asking "what would you call a male ladybug?"

"If peanut butter wasn’t called peanut butter, what would it be called?" "for the love of everything, floyd it is 2 am..." "yeah? so what would it be called though?"

being with floyd is like being hit with an uno reverse card and honestly - you were having fun!

it was like you were relieving your childhood with the eel and with his random outburst it motivates you to be more open about yourself

from time to time it was funny to see him trying to chase after oz, trying to ask your familiar over and over again if he could do the same thing

"i am afraid it would not be possible." "but we haven't even tried it out yet?" "why are you wrapping your hands around m- no, no, no we are not going into the water!"

news flash, they did. 😭

anyways! he adores you and oz and never fails to give you your daily hugs

as said before - floyd sometimes gets you in trouble by breaking rules and getting involve in the punishment but hey! some times its okay to let loose but not just too much.

still, you friendship may be a little unexpected to others and floyd knows that you are similar yet also different from each other but he will try to make your stay more bearable than letting you suffer all alone

[vincentpriceofficial]

hm. I was thinking about amc Daniel meeting Marius just now and I’ve had an evil thought which no one will like

My first thought about the two of them is that it would be satisfying to see them interact because Daniel would not be susceptible to Marius’s charm and would find him scummy and detestable. Which is absolutely true. But I also think something interesting they could do with those two characters is make Daniel experience horrible recognition of self through the other.

BECAUSE. HEAR ME OUT. Marius has this idea of being an objective all-seeing observer of history and that being one of the primary purposes of his eternal existence

And the arrogance inherent in that idea reminds me a lot of Daniel at his worst. The way he patronizes Louis and talks down to him about his own traumas and experiences. His ability to be wry and detached and sardonic about other people’s pain

I think Daniel is right on the show JUST enough of the time that it becomes tempting to think of him as a voice of reason and a character we can trust to tell us what it all means and what we’re supposed to think. I fall into this sometimes myself. But honestly it’s MUCH more interesting to think about him as a fucked up guy in his own right who has a lot wrong with him and also has the potential to become either better or worse depending on what happens to him from here on out and what choices he makes

[techramonic]

Speak, Hear, and See No Evil; Embody it.

An Essay Analysis on Religious Trauma and its connection to Nihilism through the Case Study of Vladislav Roslyakov

There is a profound intersection in faith and mentality. To uncover one’s whole being, the aspect of spirituality is well within the equation. While many use their faith as a symbol of fortitude, a steadfast hope that guides their way of living – creating practically a coherent path in a world so inconsistent and unpredictable, others see it as the pinpoint of their internal turmoil. Faith is not for all of us. If one rejects the idea of seeking solace in an institute of collective belief, then they do not believe in such a concept as “being saved”. To them, there is no redemption, only pain. 

Some people need a rather tangible and physical form of revelation for an adherence of recognition. It is the ideology: when you look up at the sky and do not see anyone looking back at you, that is when you know it’s not for you. You do not believe in such a thing as self-sacrifice, for you only see the world in a lens of self-slaughter. Often, this strained relationship with faith becomes Religious Trauma. 

Psychotherapist Dr. Alyson M. Stone acknowledges a positive link between religion and mental health but notes a lack of studies on spirituality's impact. According to Stone, “Religious trauma is more prevalent than the research suggests and often is a contributing factor to many of the problems that bring people to therapy, including depression, anxiety, and relationship difficulties. For this reason, religious trauma deserves careful attention” (Stone 2013, p. 324). Furthermore, Marlene Winell (2012) coined "religious trauma syndrome" (RTS) to describe the distress from "toxic theology." This refers to authoritarian religious doctrines demanding strict adherence, often equating disobedience to damnation.

In the case of Vlad, his mother was a Jehovah's Witness. This religious sect is banned under Russian law despite an estimated 175,000 followers in the country. In 2017, Russia’s Supreme Court found the organization guilty of inciting religious hatred by "propagating the exclusivity and supremacy" of their beliefs. Subsequent to  Russian anti-extremism laws extending to non-violent groups in 2007, placing it into the same category as neo-Nazis and members of al Qaeda.

To understand this, we must first look into Vladik’s childhood leading up to this point. Vlad’s father, a former Russian soldier who served in Afghanistan for several years, sustained brain damage from an assault, making him aggressive toward his family, leading to frequent physical abuse over his wife, parents, and even his son. He was also an alcoholic, where his violence would worsen when intoxicated. By the age of 10, his parents had filed for a divorce and he lived under the custody of his mother in a rundown apartment with poor conditions because they could not afford amenities.

Following this, his mother had renowned her faith. Neighbors described her as a devout follower who spent a lot of time in prayer. They recounted that she had barely any concern for Vlad due to being too focused on her faith, but there were many instances of her controlling nature towards her son’s life. According to Vlad’s profile background, his mother would frequently punish him for disobeying rules of her faith. Although he accompanies her in services, he does not recognize himself as a follower. He publicly expressed his contempt on Jehovah’s Witnesses as, “some kind of fools who dance and sing.” A friend of his had also expressed that the two would often make fun of the community. Despite these differences, Vlad still appeared to care for his  mother and understood that she had no other means of coping and did not have a community to interact with since she had no friends or relatives close by. With this, he made sure to spend time with her, yet we can discern that these regulatory rules are merely pushed unto him.

Vlad was not allowed to engage in hobby classes, amateur activities, or even watch movies as the faith forbids these activities. According to his VK chats with Liza Panchenko, his favorite movies were Stand by Me, Pulp-Fiction, and Lost Highway. However, he stated, “I didn’t watch any good movies after 2005”. Though this may be a speculation, one of the possible reasons for this is because he was forbidden by his mother. However, despite her warnings, it is clear that he still would go against her.

Vlad became sports-obsessed and developed an interest in weaponry, violence, neo-nazism, war, and killers. Despite occasionally picking up fights and being placed on the “chair of shame” by his college director, Vlad was reserved and withdrawn from others. His friends had described him as a loner, who was quiet and avoided making friends, rather talking about topics of violence, especially about Columbine. He had no intimate relationships or sense of future and practically only attended school because he was forced by his parents. He did not see any future and saw no escape other than death. Even with an interest in violence and guns himself, he expresses a disdain towards joining occupations like the armed forces.

Moving forward, it is crucial to recognize that the psychological distress caused by religious trauma can manifest into Nihilistic ideology. According to Alfred Alder, a psychoanalyst who founded individual psychology, human behavior is motivated by our unique experiences and the perceptions we garner off of these. To him, humans are driven by goals and we aim for superiority by striving for these goals which are molded by our values and aspirations. These in turn develop into a lifestyle that affects us in different aspects of our behavior.

Furthermore, Alder speculated that psychological development occurs when people pursue meaningful goals, though factors can disrupt this process. Exchanging the feeling of self-superiority with inferiority and emptiness. When one lacks any meaningful goal, they are devoid of any means to stay motivated because they have no inherent cause that may allow them to “live”. 

From a nihilistic perspective, the absence of inherent meaning in existence can lead individuals to view life as a mere distraction. You exist, yet you do not truly live—merely passing time because life feels more like an obligation than a will. This allows you to fade into a concept and lose touch with your humanity. You become a mere entity in this world so vast that it cannot accompany the hatred you bear for it because you are insignificant. You see yourself as nothing, born out of your lack of purpose, therefore you are nothing.

To tie this into the conversation, trauma and abuse can disrupt the process of finding and garnering purpose, hindering the creation of goals and instead, promoting nihilistic attitudes. This includes religion, which can either be an antidote or a poison. 

Religious trauma can be a  catalyst for promoting nihilistic thinking. Taking Vlad as an example, when individuals are subjected to oppressive religious doctrines that instill shame, fear, and guilt – it can lead to an inflated sense of despair. This dread of being trapped in a system that dictates your worth and purpose fuels the tendencies to lean into nihilistic ideologies. You are cornered with no escape despite religion itself being a form of solace and escapism made for believers to feel less in despair. Vlad's strict upbringing in a religious environment and controlling mother contributed to his growing resentment towards religion and humanity itself. This lack of free will over his beliefs and choices only amplified this sense of dread over being powerless. Further alienating him from others because he believes that no one will truly help him, not even God.

If God is not there to help and save him and there are no means of a divine intervention in his life, then he will be the intervention himself. He is the destruction the world has insistently brought upon his life in the form of unforeseen circumstances. He is the “judgment” that he has been taught to fear. He is the delusion that he has created because of his fixation over power. He is hatred. He shall not speak of evil, nor hear it, or see it. So, in turn, he is the embodiment of the evil he is taught to not be. 

Hatred, just like anger, does not come from evil but mistreatment. Though in this case, it is amplified to a point it becomes visceral. Vlad's constant exposure to religious extremism and the trauma he endured further deepened his nihilistic perspective and in turn, developed his trauma into a projection of an image of hatred over things he cannot control: his life and the people around him. Moreover, the trauma from his father's abuse and his mother’s overbearing nature only developed a deep-rooted cynicism towards conventional structures. In his belief, if he is controlled by anything but himself, it is evil.

To conclude, religion has a profound impact on an individual's psyche. It has the ability to either heal a person or destroy them completely. Vlad’s life is a perfect example of how one’s religious trauma can manifest into a distortion of their worldview, ultimately leading to them seeing no other escape in this miserable existence other than death.

[likealittleheartbeat]

Why in the first season do we have the motif of Zuko stealing Katara’s mother’s betrothal necklace? Some point to a romantic subtext being read into this that, they argue, later gets ignored in order to prop up a problematic relationship for Katara with Aang, the protagonist. But if there’s subtext to be read in the theft of a betrothal token from a subjugated female by a male imperial representative, however, it’s the subtext of rape.

Why is it that it’s the women in the southern water tribe are gone? Ostensibly because they were the benders—but there’s a darker undertone, especially when we consider the clearly made analogy to indigenous peoples in North America, where even to this day native women are 2 times more likely to experience rape than those from other races. The fact that the necklace was her mother’s illustrates this legacy and connection, pointing us back to the original invasion of the tribe by the Fire nation, the attack on Katara’s mother by a single soldier inside their home (allowed in in order to protect Katara) and how Zuko’s actions at the beginning of the series echo it. This is not an auspicious place to begin a relationship if that’s what the writers were planning. Traditional enemies-to-lovers arcs usually involve prejudice but usually tied to pride, less so that kind of sexual violence. Despite Romeo and Juliet coming from warring families, it’s never implied that Romeo committed war crimes in the first act, especially not against the girl who falls for him, so we should perhaps be clued in that something different is going on in Katara and Zuko’s dynamic.

The intense rage, fear, and defense Katara puts up against Zuko in the finale of the first season (right after she has had to face the misogyny among her own people) is evocative of her response to his assaults throughout the first season. If this was not enough, we then have the rape of the moon spirit and the sacrifice of Yue for her people happening in the background, all pointing us back to the gendered violence of the empire Katara’s living under and fighting against. Her battle is not passionate because she secretly loves Zuko. She is doing everything within her power to protect herself and the spirit (literally the Avatar and figuratively within herself) that she has kept kindled despite the violent attempts to wipe it out—Zuko eventually prevails and steals a precious thing from her again…

When Katara and Zuko are imprisoned together during “The Crossroads of Destiny,” often seen as the peak of their romantic tension, they discuss their mothers, and Katara learns about the loss of Zuko’s mother (which we’re encouraged by the symbolism in the first season to read through the symbolic lens of gendered abuse and sexual violence, only now it’s domestic and internal rather than imperial). Zuko’s shift to a pitiable victim of abuse has softened his monstrous face for us, and the same happens to Katara in the catacombs, to the point where she’s willing to share a spiritual token with him.

It’s remarkable in the scene that, after being interrupted, there’s an effort made to remind the audience of Aang and Zuko’s continued antagonism—they glare at each other despite being in the embrace of the person who cares most about them in the world. And in the next scene, it’s revealed that Katara and Zuko’s reconciliation is actually not enough to transform Zuko’s loyalties. His desires for Aang and the redemption he can offer are too great.

In fact, throughout this couple of scenes, Zuko shows no interest in possessing or learning about Katara. She spouts off her grievances without his request, and then he shares his own loss only in defense to Katara's accusations and self-recognition in her stories, not as consolations for her pain. And Katara is moved by his vulnerability because she is so eager to see more evil within imperial power. She wants to hear the truth about how even those within it are injured. With all the feminine fantasy of being able to fix the behavior that toxic masculinity has induced, she suggests her spirit water might alleviate the scar Zuko bears--no forethought about preserving it for her own needs. Zuko doesn’t even request or accept the spirit water she offers him. It's all Katara. You'll be hard pressed to find a moment where Zuko expresses desire for Katara in this scene, a definite difference from his sexual aggression towards her in the first season. We as an audience are actually moved by his lack of desire her and what she has to offer because Katara is finally free from his predation (though it was only his initial violence that makes this neutral kind of freedom feel heartening).

The eventual gesture of Katara healing Zuko in “Sozin’s Comet” is free of his desire as well, unless you count the desire to protect a non-combatant, which has been Zuko’s reoccurring theme throughout the series, Katara or no (when he chooses the safety of his crew in "the storm," his advocacy for the lives of the fire nation soldiers that led him to banishment, etc.). The suggestion of rape arises here again with the penetrative nature of lightning, but the show has really complicated it’s gender dynamics by having Azula direct it, pointing to imperialism as the core concern rather than a simplified feminist reading. When Katara heals him, it's after she's cared for herself and defeated Azula now, and the words exchanged are "thank you," words of cordiality and comradery. They touch, but they are touches of equal counterparts rather than romance.

Reading romance into the simple refusal to commit colonial rape seems like a fairly low bar. This is neither what Katara nor Zuko are seeking out over the expanse of the series. They are looking for the transformative hope, action, and balance that the Avatar embodies, which, if anything allows them to stop fixating on each other and the dynamic of feminine colonized victim and masculine imperial patriarch that their world would have them locked into forever.

Aang does not go back in time to fix it all, but he brings an acceptance of reality that still allows for change. And this applies to the emotional states for the characters. Finding balance. Their griefs are not gone but not totalizing, either. They don't have to obsess or ruminate on it, or on the person who embodies the "problem" for them. The balance that the Avatar brings (and the fantasy that the show concludes with) is not a world in which the violence of colonialism never occurred but a world in which emotional release is possible from the intensifying dynamics colonialism forces its subjects into to sustain itself.

[torchstelechos]

just saw you saying you want to talk about The Characters (isat) what are some thoughts you got bip bap boppin around in the noggin about the Them

Ooooooooohhhh Anon,,,, Ooooooh, You have unlocked deep thoughts and long monologues.... have this piece of bullshit that I spat out in excitement

Isabeau: 

Ah yes, dear Isabeau, my most beloathed <3 (self recognition in other /derogatory). He’s one of the characters I’ve written the most meta for that's actually about his character in the game. I love him and hate him in equal measures but that's not what I want to talk about today! I want to discuss his morbid humor and fascination, I suppose. Also his rather interesting character type and how that's displayed in the game, specifically through his morbid thoughts and discussion choices. 

In the game we see plenty of times that Isabeau uses morbid word choices (killed them so that I could live friendquest quote) and brings up morbid discussion topics (what do we do if you die? What do we do if Bonnie dies?) that the others find disquieting. He also laughs at Siffrin’s time traveler joke, finds scary Siffrin attractive, and finds being paid attention too enough that they can harm you attractive. This brings me to my main point, which is that Isabeau is the cold scientist archetype character that tries to be the himbo fighter character. Of course we know that hes trying to hide himself behind the himbo character type, but the fact that he's analytic to a fault, morbid in almost every way, finds scary things attractive, and calls Changing killing his past self… this man is very much a scientist that was about to turn evil but decided friendship was the answer whose character was subverted into himbo fighter because those who are dumb are more liked than those who know things. It's interesting, and I think it’s one of the reasons I despise Isabeau POV fanfics. Most fanfics feel almost like his facade is him, and thats just not true and it bugs me so very much to read fanfics with his POV now. But! This isnt to say those fanfics aren’t well done! They are, I just find them lacking in canon Isabeau’s almost neutral analytical personality that was then filtered through therapy and self help books esque vibe. Fascinating character, hate him dearly for it though. 

Misc thoughts: 

I generally have a hard time nailing down everything I feel about him for a variety of reasons but I do want to say that I think he finds Siffrin’s big melt down appearance attractive after the whole thing blows over. I also think he doesn't have the best track record for what is okay to say or not? So he falls back on “I am dumb therefore I can say things that others find disturbing and frame it as something I just don't understand or misunderstood :)” which kind of backfires on him constantly because now no one really takes him seriously? I don’t know, I just find most smart characters have a hard time figuring out the social situation of certain things so they tend to either not care at all for tact or overthink everything and over compensate by not allowing themself to go for certain things. In this instance its him not being able to confess because he thinks he's bad for liking someone in a certain way and doesn't want to pressure them which backfires because he's otherwise a good communicator but failed hard with Siffrin. Speaking of, I don’t think hes ever gotten with anyone other than Siffrin. It took the world literally almost ending and a time looping induced trauma attack for him to confess he liked Siffrin, this man does NOT have game. So, lol, that kiss? Probably his first <3, RIP my man did not deserve that

Odile:

Strangely enough I don’t believe I have ever written a meta post for Odile? Or anything about her other than tags? So yeah, let's focus on her. She's a very honesty based character in a game literally about someone not being able to speak the truth, which is why I appreciate the sus route so much. She noticed something was wrong and went for it, leading her down rabbit holes best left untouched. Odile is a character that I truly think would have accidentally unleashed an eldritch horror on the quest if not for Isabeau stopping her. Mainly because she is smart but not academic smart, she's learned from her travels plenty of things that lend to real life experience but she's not much of an academic when it comes to how to get answers she wants (taking until the very last town to get a familytale while Siffrin took maybe three loops to do is. Certainly something!). Its fascinating, because if I were to actually describe her personality and how that lends to a character archetype I would say that she's a brawler character. Effectively, she and Isabeau are reflections of each other in a very specific way and I think about this often in her relation to the group. Its almost laughable how shes been put into this responsibility role of the group while Isabeau is off goofing around (and secretly plotting how to best respect his friends remains), shes not very good at knowing what is the best course of action and acts out in impulsive ways that harms others (Looking at you, hitting Trauma Big Siffrin moment) and that doesn’t… make her a good leader per say? I just find it funny, how others write her as someone who would go out of her way to research Siffrin’s home country and succeed when she barely succeeded in her own knowledge hunt. If anything, it would be Isabeau who would find the information and inform Odile rather than the other way round. I dunno, I just don’t think anyone is really considering the fact that she probably hasn’t set foot into a higher academic institution just based on her research skills. 

Misc thoughts: 

I’ve only seen one fanfic acknowledge the fact that Odile hit Siffrin? And did so in such a way that it hurt badly. I wouldn’t be surprised if it left a scar (which that little freak probably adores because he knows that it means he wont forget Odile ever again), alongside the others they gave themself. Speaking of said hurting, I don’t think it's really acknowledged how much Odile puts down Siffrin? Yes it's usually just a teasing moment here or there, but have yall thought of the fact that she compared Siffrin to an animal and has hit him? I think about this so much. I think about it when I'm trying to fall asleep sometimes. She did that to him, and he *remembers it,* he acknowledges it during act 5, he has that ingrained into his *soul.* I think people should write about it more, or at least acknowledge that Siffrin probably… doesn’t want to talk to Odile about feelings or be touched by her for a while? Honestly, if I was Siffrin’s position during the failed friendquest moments? I would have said worse. I would have done worse. Because can you imagine? Imagine with me, you just remembered that your country is gone, everyone you love either doesnt remember you or is dead, the only person who could possibly tell you anything is the man you must kill, and your family member is talking about how hard it is to be in the country her mother is from and not feel a connection to it. That you are both more than your heritage. I would start biting, kicking, fighting, hell I would probably find out what she looks like without her bun! I would be pissed. But yaknow, Siffrin is a nice fella and kind of only waited to go off the deep end when they were sure they wouldn’t be able to escape. Anyway, I think of Odile sometimes and get violently ill by the knowledge she no longer holds that would explain some of Siffrin’s reactions and word choices to her cause no matter what? She can’t take it back. She never even said it. It’s not even real anymore. God I love this game, it makes me feel sick.

Mirabelle: 

Big ol’ sigh, yeah the-bitter-ocean if your out there I think about your tags on my Mira post a lot. The fandom doesn’t really get her do they? Most of the time I see people write her off as not very understanding or oblivious to other people’s feelings, which fair for romance (she didnt notice the very glowing sign of what I believe to be a ginger blushing but yaknow I understand as aro) but shes very good at knowing when someone isn’t feeling well? She has several unique dialogue options after Siffrin gets up from the field after looping which Odile does not have (despite EVERYONE ACKNOWLEDGING THEY’RE NOT OKAY), and asks after their wellbeing despite being in a constant anxiety attack and morality stress issues induced panic attack in the house. The only real big character flaw is a very typical shonen main character flaw which is that she is too trusting to a degree that it let Siffrin get away with almost destroying the world, Bonnie dying, and the others stepping all over her own feelings (not that any of these are her fault, but she did contribute to the lack of communication which lead to the loops. I love her, I do, but EVERYONE had a hand in Siffrin getting stuck in the loops). Her trust is also what led to the big fallout and slap she gives Siffrin during act 5, she was already giving her heart to him and the others and was constantly checking in during the adventure to make sure everyone was happy and okay with what was happening so the sudden switch from her POV is a huge betrayal of her trust in them. This is basically someone you were already on edge about hating you suddenly deciding that yes, they do hate you and everything you stand for because *they know.* No matter what you think about the situation, Mirabelle’s trust (her biggest character flaw) was thrown back into her face after she thought they were okay with her (not even a few weeks ago they said that this was the happiest they have ever been and she *remembers this fully and utterly*) and broke her heart with all her insecurities. It’s a very hopeless situation when you don’t have context, which means I don’t really blame her for slapping Siffrin, I just wish that it didn’t happen because as a Player I know the full context. Betrayal of trust… its a funny thing in this game, because it wasn’t a betrayal specifically from one POV but from the other it was. Fascinating! I despise it, I love it, it makes me sick. 

Misc Thoughts: 

Oooooh Mira we are in it now, This endgame of yours has left you with insecurities and trauma you didn’t think possible. I love her, I do, which is why I also have a great idea for a fanfic that involves her getting some VERY bad coping mechanisms <3 teehee. Careful what you wish for darling! Things go bad if you don’t take care of what you love. Anyway, I don’t think it’s weird to have Mira in outfits that are contrasting too heavily from her personality in the game? I dont know how to say this, but I think it’s a tad strange that I’ve seen roleswap aus/personality swap aus where Mirabelle is different via aesthetic? Because thats her whole religion? Sure she doesnt want to change but I don’t think she minds much clothing or aesthetic wise? In fact i think she considers that the safest option? So I dunno, I think people should dress her in goth and emo outfits more. Also I do think its a tad silly people don’t focus too much on her journey trauma and rather focus on her romance trauma, yall know that was just a distraction and not her main issues, right? Like yall know this game isnt romance the simulator, right???? RIGHT???? God Mira, you would hate that the fandom boils you down to your AceAroness, I just fucking know it. 

Bonnie: 

Who let this sassy small child into this story???? God, dearest Bonnie, the literal best party member Imo. I love them dearly, they are one of the meanest fucking assholes in the game I adore them. Yall think about the longstanding issues Siffrin has with touch and reaching out and how the rotten adults route fucking annihilates them into smithereens lol. I think about the fact that Bonnie has harmed Siffrin soooo much in the loops, it leaves me breathless because this small child has killed Siffrin twice, slapped their hands away when they tried to help them (for the first time in Bonnies POV!! Thats huge!!), and yelled at them multiple times about how awful they are. I do wonder what would have happened if the rotten adults route continued without looping? Who would have spoken up and who would have had to realize that something is WRONG with Siffrin in that moment? Would Bonnie backpedal when they realize? What was Siffrin’s facial expression right then? What happened? I just. God. Fuck. No one talks about this AT ALL in the fandom and it drives me insane. Despite everything, despite what was erased, what was unmade, the effects stayed and will continue to harm Siffrin. Do yall think about the idea that Siffrin probably doesnt reach out until Bonnie does post loops? I think about this so much, Bonnie has harmed Siffrin so many times it would kill them if they ever found out, and I desperately need them to find out. I also kind of,, just assumed that Bonnie would be keeping a keen eye on Siffrin’s eating and remind them to eat and drink water (even if I dont think Siffrin needs that) after the loops because its an easy way to help and have some control over situations? I dunno, I think Bonnie is a very complicated kid who has harmed and been harmed and no one will ever know just how much has been done and undone. 

Misc Thoughts: 

I still think Bonnie should be able to make and throw bombs post bomb memory. I just NEED Bonnie to throw a molotov at the King, fuck, it would be so funny. Also as a side note, I do think growing up Bonnie has to deal with a lot of untreated Trauma and probably reacts very similar to Siffrin before someone comments on the fact that they are just like him and suddenly they start going to a therapist about it, I do not think they would take it as a compliment for even one instance. They would get sick so fast and go, me and them? Similar? No. I have to go to get a doctor. I cannot be a Frin Jr. the world could not handle it. And suddenly they have the second best mental health of the group (first goes to Isabeau because Isabeau was already in therapy before the game, I just fucking know it <3) which makes everyone fucking jealous as hell because seriously? The Kid??? Damnit. But yeah I do think the fastest way anyone could get Bonnie to accept help is to compare them to Siffrin because they do have a Recognition of Self in the Other (derogatory) thing going on with Siffrin in the game, which is probably worse by the fact that they grew up with him as a role model. Everyone that knows them is like, oh my change your so lucky! The saviors are your family that must be so cool <3, and Bonnie is like. They make me to go to bed on time and force me to eat veggies what the fuck are you saying. Anyway yeah I love Bonnie so much, the meanest fucking kid in the game <3. 

Siffrin: 

Aaauuuggghhhhh, the one everyone is waiting for, the Siff of the Frin. Love this fucking idiot, but yeah lets talk touch and how the family has hurt them over the loops <3. Okay so straight out the gate, Bad touch! Isabeau pushing them away after they kiss him, which is very understandable because yaknow Isabeau could tell that was a desperation kiss and is not okay for either of them but! Holy shit! Siffrin, my dear friend that was probably the worst thing you could have done, but yeah that did leave its marks deeply in them so I will mark that down as harmed. Then we get the bad friendquests, which yeah Isabeau hitting them with the “I thought you were also trying” hurts more than I can physically say, but we’ll mark that down as two. Then Odile hits them, grabs their collar, sus quest bullshit, and general disdain for Siffrin lying about the stars we’ll mark down as four more which leads to six. Mirabelle slapping Siffrin and letting him get away with lying about his health we’ll put at 8. Bonnie pushing him into a tear, pineapple, slapping hands away, and yelling at them multiple times we’ll put at 12. Then there's the “like taming a wild animal” teasing which Ill put at 13, all of which is just off the top of my brain and I know there's more moments that hurt Siffrin deeply. Yaknow, looking at this, typing this, it seems a tad silly but. How else could I describe the never ending pain at knowing that most of these wont be acknowledged as bad for Siffrin as it was bad for the others? I dunno, I think about Siffrin giving everything up for the party and no one knowing exactly what they did because how could they? It’s gone. It’s not real anymore, not until Siffrin says it. I just. I dont know where I’m going with this but Siffrin as a character hurts me deeply, and I think it’s because no matter what happens Siffrin refuses to acknowledge when the others hurt him back. Just. Keeping the cycle going because they dont know how to break it, and they never have until they break first. I just think of this a lot. Him being stuck, in circles over and over. 

Misc Thoughts: 

I wanna chew him up and spit him out like a dog toy. No further comments (see my blog for further comments). ((I need to see a Self inflicted Achromatic animatic, pls, fuck plsssss))

LOOP: 

Loop time!! Loop time! I am physically ill because of this beast. You all know that one fanart where it says “You Won!” and Loop is dry heaving? Thats me at literally any moment when I think about Loop. 

I am a little shy to admit though that I didn’t catch their facade at first, mainly because I’m not very good at catching things like that at first? If a person acts a certain way, thats how they act! So Yeah, ya boy was confused by two hats lol. But afterwards I did do a bit of thinking and as I mentioned in a previous post i do think Loop is pretending/acting like how they remembered Siffrin acted like before the loops. Mira mentions that Siffrin is mean in teasing, enough so that it might have hurt if she didnt know that it was friendly teasing. Isabeau has a great monologue about his feelings on Siffrin before the loops, and Siffrin themself acknowledges some of their less than savory traits before the loops during the loops as well. This is to say, Loop is a fucking prick that tries to be floating and teasing in their comments while hitting where it hurts in just the right way that they can pretend that they mean something else. I genuinely think thats how Loop remembers themself before they were Loop, even if they got some things VERY WRONG. Of course, by the time they realize this it’s too late and that’s their personality now, which is kind of fucked up when you realize how much of their personality is them acting out a half remembered person who died many many many loops ago. But alas, such is the way of Loop. 

Also if we think about Loop in comparison to Siffrin. Well. We get an interesting picture. But the thought makes me too ill to continue. But I will say loving someone so much you destroy yourself for them… I don't think anyone in the family would be happy about that really. Theres a difference between destroying yourself and destroying the world… I wonder why that is for them, what made the difference between self and the world. A fool, and the world. Hmm. Interesting. Anyway, Loop’s facade gets me everytime and I want to use them as a stuffed animal. 

Misc Thoughts: 

Yeah that STAR CAN NOT EAT OR DRINK, lol get rekted they cant even fucking get drunk. Now for some HCs, I do think that Loop would wear a promise ring, even if no one in this Vaugarde understands what that means. I just. Think that Loop wouldn’t be able to let go of Their Fighter. Hahaha! I don’t really wanna go further into detail about this rn but I AM THINKING… Loop is one of the saddest characters I have ever fucking had the audacity to love. No I will not take comments on this further lol. (Me loving Loop and Siffrin while disliking Isabeau? Call me an Isabeau Kinnie at the rate lol)

[infaria]

So, so, so, SO many people miss the point of the walten files and it's genuinely saddening, because it is such a delicate story hidden behind horror. What makes the walten files stand out from the rest of the big analog webseries out there is the fact that it's so far the only one that is both horror and drama in genre. The only other online indie horror projects that I've seen put focus on placing actual depth into characters so far is welcome home and the tanji virus/oracle project duology (a duology that I highly recommend people to watch, it deserves more recognition).

Martin has said that there's more to the characters than meets the eye, with bunnyfarm specifically noting that "this is a story about broken people, beautiful people"

This is probably why most theories people make are doomed to fail from my point of view. Martin doesn't seem to be particularly interested in creating an epic horror that ends in a thrilling battle or to create the "most SHOCKING, SCARY analog horror ever?!?!" as random reaction channels title their videos as. Maybe this is why Martin deviated from the original format. The walten files 4, despite being 36 minutes long, did not add too many answers to the mystery. Instead, there was a perfect balance of giving more context as well as well as giving more character to pre-existing characters, such as suzan, ed and molly, the antagonist (whoever he is), felix, jack and charles. All that through dialogue and actual cinematographic scenes. The story wants you to take personality and psychology into account when theorizing as well.

I won't post all my theories, but now that we have 4 out, I'll give my two cents on the "who or what is bon" mystery, based on a mix of character analysis and hints given throughout the episodes, site, hidden media and martin's statements.

I never believed the "felix killed and placed jack into bon" theory as someone who discovered the series after bunnyfarm's release. Felix is a coward, self centered, is irresponsible and refuses to acknowledge his issues. And people mistakenly interpret that as "evil capitalist who only cares about his hide". I won't analyze felix (at least not today), because so far he is the one character who we have the most context about his inner psychology and woo boi, there's a LOT of issues this guy has, but point I am trying to make is that he doesn't seem like the type to kill jack because, believe it or not, from what I can gather, he'd never kill a person on purpose.

The only possible scenario I can see the "felix put jack in bon" theory being true is if jack attacked felix after learning of the kids, so felix accidentally killed him in self defense.

Felix is shown to be alive in 1981, so it's unlikely it is him being bon either. (funnily enough, if that wasn't revealed, I'd think him being bon as a good theory, something that, yet again, I'll probably touch upon a future dissection of his character)

The only two scenarios I can think of is a) either jack put himself, either on purpose, or accidentally in bon, b) bon is a third party or c) jack is bon, but someone else placed him in

Out of these three theories, I believe a) is the least probable, with c) being second in place. It is possible jack got depressed to the point of doing something this intense, however it was implied in the Relocation project and the findjackwalten site that he is very likely alive. Here I am mostly going on hunch, but I don't think martin would choose the "Man loses family, ends up depressed and then a vengeful insane spirit" route. I did say above that I believe felix to more more likely to fit that role of "person going mad from mental stress", but I actually believe that he'd be more likely to snap, considering his mental stability after the crash. Also I don't see how jack could accidentally get into bon.

I honestly think both were red herrings from the very start of the series. In fact, walten files 4 pretty much added the possibility that they have nothing to do with the murders (excluding ed and molly*), aside from felix being heavily hinted to have tried covering up the bon incidents instead of reporting them like a normal, law abiding, responsible citizen.

Cyberfun Tech episode pretty much revealed to us that the "bon is just a malfunctioning animatronic" theory is not true, as bon clearly has something controlling it. So I can only see the above theories being correct.

This places the c) theory as most believable. The issue is who is the third party. People have speculated it is the original ceo of cyberfun tech or a demon. I'd personally lean towards the ceo, a demon would be too random for a story that focuses so much on personal strife. And since I am part of the "jack is alive" theorizers, I also don't believe the "manifestation of jack's anger" theory. Something that keeps bugging me also is why did the person who honked at felix during the car crash didn't report anything, it's weird, as if someone saw the perfect opportunity to use felix as a scapegoat for the murders. Maybe bon has an accomplice?

I'm stepping into tinfoil shadow government territory here though lmao

*I know I am being nitpicky here, call me a law nerd all you know, but I especially get frustrated when people throw around heavy words without knowing their terminology, as that can have pretty bad consequences when applicable to real people. Another small fun fact just for extra trivia knowledge: Age of consent doesn't always mean legal, if you're a minor, please protect yourself. Back on topic, no, what felix did was not murder. It's a shitty, also fairly common douchy behavior in my country called "causing death through driving under the influence of alcohol". Here's the difference:

(The first picture says California, but the same exact thing applies to law articles from multiple countries)

This post probably ended up on a passive aggressive tone, I apologize ToT

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Dancing In The Dark [Javi Peña] 01

summary: Javier Peña knows all the answers to all questions but one... what if? pairing: javier peña x fem!reader  word count: 3.7K a/n: my first Javi fic. feedback is appreciated.

warnings: language, mention of self-esteem issues,

Part 01 Part 02 Part 03

Javier Peña was no friends with sleep.

To him, sleep was a dance he would consciously opt out of, never quite catching the rhythm—perpetually a step behind.

Throughout the years, Javier Peña had mastered the skill of pretense; with his eyes shut and body appearing relaxed and at ease, yet sleep remained a territory he intentionally steered cleared from.

For Javier Peña was all too aware of the things that lay in wait when he’d close his eyes.

The harrowing memories of what he had seen, all the horror he wished he could unsee, and the lingering cries that never seem to fade. Every ally he had lost, every enemy that had been born, and all the innocent lives entangled in the web he helped to weave.

The irony of it all was almost laughable.

By day, Javier Peña was the epitome of unwavering strength. His bravery unchallenged. Yet, when the night draped the world in darkness, he allowed himself a different truth; he was afraid, too hesitant to welcome the vulnerability that came with being asleep.

Thus, Javier chose to stay awake, inhabiting a space where he could maintain a safe distance from his inner demons. It might have been the easier choice, the lesser evil, so to speak. But, in his mind, it was still better than facing the ghosts that sleep would so easily usher in.

And it was in the midst of his self-imposed insomnia that Javier’s attention was abruptly drawn to an unusual sound that night. A strange, distinct rattling, right outside his door, slicing through the noise of the city’s distant hum and the intermittent barking of a stray dog that echoed from a few blocks away.

Rising from his seat, Javier’s hand instinctively reached for the cold metal of his weapon, buried amidst the chaotic sprawl of reeking dust and aged ink that had consumed his days, perhaps weeks.

Each scribbled one, every photograph and file, all the tapes and transcripts, they all blurred the lines between his duty and existence, between the man that Javier was and the role he had assumed.

Advised to never bring his work home, Javier had not only brought it, but allowed it to become a tangible reflection of his overburdened mind. So much so that his modest apartment had long since ceased to be a sanctuary, but a vast repository for fragments of his professional life, making his few personal items seems almost foreign.

Moving with the kind of stealth and silence born of experience, Javier cautiously approached the door—the gun in his hand providing a near-comical sense of comfort. It felt like shaking hands with an old friend; familiar and oddly comforting in its solid presence.

Javier paused. Held his breath. Took a moment to collect himself before leaning in to peer through the peephole. As he did so, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly—a flicker of recognition flashing across his face.

With a swift, deft motion and a heavy exhale, he slid the lock open, pulling at the door-handle with more force than intended.

"¡Hijo de puta!" Javier exclaimed instinctively as his gaze fell on your figure on the other side of the brassy chain. "What are you doing here at this hour, nena?" he blurted out, stealing a quick glance at his watch while subtly tucking his gun behind his waistband. Even though he knew you were no stranger to the constant presence of his weapon, brandishing it now felt strangely out of place. "How did you even get here?"

Your response was a broad, unabashed smile, radiating a confidence that you half-suspected might annoy him.

"I biked over," you declared, stretching up on your toes. It was was as much an attempt to diminish the height difference between you and Javier as it was a reflection of your restless energy.

"You biked over?" Javier echoed, his tone a mix of disbelief with a touch of concern.

"Yes, I biked," you affirmed calmly, observing his eyebrows knit together in a frown. Then, with a quick motion, he unhitched the chain and opened the door just wide enough for you to sidestep into his world.

As you moved past his shirtless figure, Javier instinctively leaned forward in order to scan the dim corridor. Gripping the door frame with firm assurance, his gaze shifted right, then left before  eventually settling on your old bicycle, chained to a metal pipe outside. The racer, adorned with rust streaks, appeared strangely out of place in this setting—a seemingly uninviting target for theft, yet it was secured with a robust, heavy-duty chain as though it were a rare jewel.

Javier mentally noted to have a word with Murphy about giving you the bike. It was a foolish decision on Murphy's part, rivaled only by your own eagerness to accept it without hesitation.

"There's nothing wrong with biking, Javi," you called out with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders as though navigating through the streets of Medellín in the middle of the night were nothing more than a casual evening adventure, rather than a flirtation with potential danger.

Javier reacted instantly to your casual demeanor. He closed the door with a resounding thud, a sound that echoed in the cramped apartment and made you flinch. Locking it quickly, he followed after you—his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in either an attempt to fend off a headache or to perhaps stall his rising irritation.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out at this hour?" he asked, his tone stern. "You could've been followed, robbed, or worse—"

"—Javi, please, look at me," you interjected, a blend of humor and seriousness in your voice as you gestured towards yourself. "I seriously doubt I'm anyone's top target for kidnapping."

Despite giving your best, your attempt to lighten the mood didn't seem to alleviate the concern etched deeply in Javier's features. If anything it only made him more annoyed with you—his posture rigid with unease.

Deciding to shift the conversation, you effortlessly took off your backpack and began unzipping it. “I thought you might want some food.”

Javier's expression then morphed into something almost humorous—a mix of annoyance and disbelief, tinged with a reluctant smile at your boldness.

"You brought food?" he echoed, his voice laced with surprise. "At two in the morning?"

“Empanadas,” you clarified, presenting the plastic container wrapped in a crinkled bag, as if the unconventional timing was an insignificant detail.

He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to protest, but then as if realizing that it wouldn’t make any difference to you, he wordlessly accepted the food from your outstretched hands.

With the container now in Javier's hands, you slipped your own into the back pockets of your worn, stain-splattered jeans before following him to the kitchen, leaning against the chipped counter near the sink—its door hanging off one hinge.

"Thanks," he mumbled, breaking the quiet before opening the refrigerator, which gave a angry, buzzing hum. As he placed the container on an upper shelf, you noticed the rows of similar, mostly untouched containers inside, resembling abandoned relics in a museum dedicated to his usual diet of nicotine and alcohol.

You've seen those containers before. After all, it was you who meticulously packed them.

Strangely, the fact that he, more often than not, ignored the food you brought him, didn’t bother you. At least, not anymore. If anything, your tango of offering and overlooking has become an accepted, if not slightly amusing part of your friendship.

“Looks like Steve hasn’t been dropping by much lately,” you commented lightly, a teasing tone in your voice. "He's always had a thing for Lupe's lentejas.”

Javier acknowledged your comment with a grunt that seemed to carry more weight than a simple throat-clearing as he delved in the fridge, emerging with two bottles of cold beer. Using the edge of the kitchen counter to pop them open, he held one out to you, his lips curved into a half-smile, tinged with irony before walking towards the living room.

You grinned to yourself before following, navigating the path to the seating area with familiarity, only taking a halt once Javier paused to casually put on a crumpled tee.

As his muscles shifted under his tanned, taut skin, a routine gesture of always making sure to be dressed in front of you, turned into something more.

Something that made your gaze linger. Something that made your eyes trace the lines of his form—a reaction that hadn’t occurred before, leaving you momentarily unsettled.

The moment stretched, filled with the uncomfortable ripple that made waves inside your chest, before you quietly cleared your throat and looked away, a slight warmth rising to your cheeks.

"I was actually asleep," Javier said suddenly, turning to face you as he reached for his Marlboros on the cluttered coffee table.

His words seemed to hang in the air, their lack of conviction almost making them seem like an afterthought. They floated, as if trying to find a place to land, yet they never quite did.

You could tell he was lying.

Over time, you had come to understand Javier Peña in a way he might not fully realize himself.

However, you chose not to confront him about it. Instead, you opted to play along to his charade. "Oh, did I wake you? Should I leave?" you asked, injecting a hint of feigned concern into your voice.

Javier responded with a casual wave of his hand, brushing aside your question as he focused on retrieving his cigarette.

In his eyes, though, there was a resigned but silent invitation, a non-verbal cue suggesting you should stay. So, you obliged, sinking into the armchair that carried the familiar scent of tobacco and an unmistakable trace of Javier himself before letting the silence settle between you.

—

After over a decade of wandering through Colombian cities, it was in Medellín where you unexpectedly found yourself pausing, staying longer than in any other place you had considered home as an adult. Initially, you had no plans to stay beyond a few months. However, the deep, lingering sadness from your father's passing and a life that seemed to drift aimlessly compelled you to seek solace and stability with your Aunt Lupe.

Her declining health was another reason; the thought of leaving her to fend for herself while unwell was something you couldn't bear, had only further anchored you to Medellín.

In the warmth of her presence and her offer of a permanent roof over your head in exchange for some care and company, you found reasons to stay, to find some solid ground once more. Part of that plan involved attempting to re-enter school—an effort to piece back some normalcy and purpose. However, instead of classrooms and heavy textbooks, you ended up behind the bar of a local spot, nestled just a stone's throw away from the DEA's imposing presence.

The bar was like any other slightly rundown establishment in the area, with its chipping paint and a jukebox coated in a layer of dust. Yet, in this unassuming place, you found an unexpected sense of belonging. It wasn't just your haven, but also a refuge for the regulars who frequented it, and a slice of respite for those burdened by the weight of their badges—their holsters as much a part of their attire as the deep lines of worry, etched across their faces, narrating the tales of silent worries. Stories that were perhaps too deep, or simply too raw too be voiced

Among them was Javier Peña — a man as intricate and tough as the streets of Medellín themselves.

You quickly became acquainted with the rumors, swirling around him. Tales of his sharp intelligence, relentless determination, and a certain ruthlessness in pursuit of his professional goals seemed to float through the dimly lit bar, much like the cigarette smoke, lingering in the air. Then, there were other rumors; whispers about his private life—open secrets, passed in hushed tones from one patron to another, or shared among his colleagues in a blend of admiration and disdain.

A smooth-talker and a maverick, an enigma to some and an asshole to others.

Unpredictable.

A living, walking paradox.

Straightforward in his professional dealings, but layered in his personal life.

Tough, yet had a charm that was hard to ignore. And he wasn’t shy to use that charm whenever he pleased, especially with women who unabashedly flocked towards him as if he was the the flame to their moths.

The kind of man whose activities in both business and pleasure often took him to the darker corners of the city, the parts where questions were seldom asked and answers were rarely needed.

From the very beginning, your resolution had been firm and clear: maintain a respectful, cautious distance from Javier Peña, consciously steering clear of the seemingly endless procession of the lonely, the lustful, and the longing that perpetually trailed in his wake.

However, on a particularly quiet Wednesday evening, breaking this self-imposed rule felt as natural as pouring a glass of aguardiente: smooth, effortless, almost instinctive.

That night, he appeared different, enveloped in a visible weariness — his gaze distant and unfocused. It was a sort of melancholy that seemed to weigh heavily upon him, a kind of sorrow that the parade of drinks sent by hopeful women – who had become almost as much a fixture of the bar as the stools they perched on – could not dispel.

And that caught your attention. It stirred something in you, a sense of understanding. You knew what it was like to feel that kind of loneliness; it was a feeling you had become all too familiar with.

Without a second thought to the why or the what-ifs, you reached for another tumbler and the familiar bottle of amber whiskey. Weaving through the crowd, you moved with determined steps toward him, where he stood as a lone figure by a high table near the entrance.

“You know,” you started, your voice carrying a light, almost teasing tone as you poured whiskey into the glass you set down in front of him, “even without ordering anything yourself, you’re surprisingly good for business tonight.” The fact that his eyes only briefly met yours before drifting away again didn’t deter you. “Seems like you’re a bit lonely tonight.”

"For someone who needs a step stool to see over the bar, you sure keep tabs on everything," he shot back, a flash of sarcastic amusement in his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he lifted the glass he was drinking from to his lips.

You grinned in response, casually gathering empty glasses with your free hand—their clinking a familiar tune to your ears. “Not here to force you do anything, but maybe a bit of appreciation for your admirers could lift your spirits,” you suggested playfully, hoping to break the awkward silence.

"Tonight, it's just me and the drinks," Javier responded, his shoulders dipping in a faint but unmistakable gesture of resignation. He took a moment, seemingly lost in thought as he studied the cigarette smoldering between his fingers before continuing, “Though, I might reconsider this one,” he mused. “So, whose generosity am I indebted to this time?” he asked, casting a half-hearted glance over his shoulder.

Briefly, his eyes, met those of a tall brunette at the other end of the bar. She held his gaze for a second longer than necessary—a playful, inviting smile playing on her lips. But his interest seemed to wane as quickly as it had been piqued.

He turned back his glass, seemingly unperturbed by the brief flirtatious moment.

"Oh," you responded with an easy shrug, noticing out of the corner of your eye a group at the bar trying to catch your attention. With a quick and familiar gesture of your free hand, you signaled that you'd be right with them, then turned your focus back to the brooding agent. “That one’s on me.”

Without missing a heartbeat, Javier’s gaze returned to you, less subtle this time, searching. His eyes dragged themselves over your silhouette and your hand-me-down outfit, as if trying to see what might be hiding underneath the layers of denim and plaid. There was a brief pause where he seemed to contemplate something, finally settling on whatever answer to his unspoken question.

And when his eyes met yours again, they carried an unmistakable glint—lips curling into a smile that held more than just friendliness. It was suggestive, loaded with charm that brought out his right dimple.

"And what's in it for you?" he asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and cautious probing—eyebrow arching in a silent, questioning challenge.

Your response was calm, accompanied by a small, knowing smile as you turned around, ready to walk to tend the rest of the bar. “Nothing, really. It’s just a drink, agent Peña.”

—

“C’mon, nena, out with it. Why are you really here?” Javier’s voice cut sharply through the quiet of the room, scattering your thoughts like fallen leaves. You made a mental note to collect them later, lifting your gaze to meet his. “You didn’t cycle all this way just to drop off empanadas,” he pressed, fixing his gaze on you.

Your reply came with a casual shrug as you rested your eyes on the bottle you were holding—your fingernail absentmindedly picking at its peeling label.

“You just haven’t been around much lately,” you said, not quite sure what more to add.

“Sounds like you missed me?” Javier teased, a hint of fatigue lacing his smirk.

Leaning back slightly, he took a long drag from his cigarette before languidly reaching over to tap the ash into a tray on a nearby table. His movements were unhurried, characteristic of someone who was comfortable in his own skin yet weary from the world.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Peña. Just got me worried, that’s all,” you grinned, setting your beer down on the table as your eyes caught a sight of a pair of women’s underwear, poking from underneath the coffee table. “But it looks like you’ve been managing just fine,” you added with a suggestive smirk.

“Sharp as ever, aren’t you, nena?” Javier shot back with a hint of admiration.

"Doesn't take a detective to notice, Javi, especially when you don't clean up after your... 'girlfriends'," you said, the word 'girlfriends' lingering a bit sourly on your tongue even as you managed a grin. Standing up quickly, you leaned over and deftly hooked the garment with your index finger, lifting it with a combination of amusement and feigned surprise. Settling back into your seat, you held up the red fabric, examining it. “Wow,” you breathed out, “this doesn’t exactly leave much to the imagination, does it?”

“That’s the point, nena.” He quickly reached over before smoothly taking the underwear from your hand, flinging it to the other side of the room with an effortless gesture—his demeanor unfazed and confidently indifferent. Looking back at you, he pinched the cigarette between his thumb and index finger as he leaned into the seat again. “Tell me.”

You started hesitantly, attempting to maintain a casual air. “It’s probably nothing,” but your voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

“It never is,” he countered, his voice holding an edge of seriousness.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a knot of apprehension in your stomach. Taking a deep, subtle breath to steady your nerves, you glanced down briefly, gathering your thoughts. When you looked up again, your voice was casual, but your eyes were intently focused on the faded print on Javier tee, unable to face him.

"There were some people at the bar the other night. Not our regular crowd. They seemed... out of place, a bit shady."

Instantly, Javier's relaxed demeanor shifted. He straightened up, putting his cigarette out with a deliberate, careful motion. "Shady how? Did they talk to you? Did you interact with them?" His questions came quickly, his voice laced with a newfound urgency, the usual weariness in his eyes replaced by a piercing focus.

"They just made small talk, nothing noteworthy," you responded, maintaining a casual facade. "They seemed more interested in observing the crowd than engaging in any deep conversation. I ended my shift early, and Chema took over. That's about all I saw."

Javier’s expression hardened, mirroring his deepening concern.

“Listen, you need to stay alert. Those guys might be involved with the cartel, even sicarios.” His expression was growing more stern with each second as he looked at you intently. “You shouldn’t be talking to those types of people or getting involved in conversations with them,” he cautioned, his voice heavy with concern.

“I was just doing my job, Javi. I’ve been at that bar long enough to know how to handle different types of customers,” you interjected, a touch of annoyance creeping into your voice at his overprotectiveness.

"You know that it isn't that simple. You're in a prime spot to overhear things, see things. This isn’t about your experience at the bar, it’s about the dangers you might not see coming—"

"—I'm fully aware of the risks," you snapped back sharply, interrupting him.

Javier's jaw clenched in response, his eyes reflecting the deep-seated concern of someone all too familiar with loss and danger. "If you truly understood the risks, you wouldn't be so casual about this," he shot back, his tone edged with frustration.

Reacting to his words, you leaned back slightly, as if physically distancing yourself from the gravity of his concern. Your eyes momentarily shifted away in a silent display of rebellion, then returned to meet his gaze. You crossed your arms, not so much defensively, but as an instinctive effort to compose yourself under his intense gaze.

The room was then enveloped in a heavy silence, charged with words left unsaid. Javier’s intense stare didn't waver from you, betraying the whirl of thoughts behind his stern facade. After a moment of palpable tension, he broke the silence with a firmness unusual in your interactions.

"Okay, that’s it. No more biking around Medellín, not day or night. It’s too dangerous."

Raising an eyebrow, your independent spirit surged, laced with a touch of sarcasm. "Really, Javi? And what do you suggest I do instead? Are you going to be my personal chauffeur around town? Maybe drop everything mid-mission because Lupe needs her asthma medicine?"

Javier didn't respond, and you gave a self-assured nod, almost rhetorically confirming your point.

Of course, he wouldn’t, couldn't do any of that.

For a moment, Javier just looked at you, his expression a blend of concern, frustration, and a deep-seated sense of responsibility. But then, abruptly, he stood up—his movements decisive, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade.

"You're also staying here tonight," Javier declared firmly. "It's not safe for you to go out alone at this time."

The seriousness in his voice left no room for argument, you knew that, but you still immediately began to shake your head, ready to refuse his directive. However, his stance was serious.

“This isn’t up for discussion, nena. It’s too dangerous out there right now.”

“I can’t stay here,” you insisted firmly, hoping to assert your independence, but quickly softened your expression and your tone. “Can’t you just… drive me home?”

“No, I can’t,” he answered as he took a few steps towards the window, peering out into he darkness. “This isn’t about me being controlling. It’s about what I know, what I've seen out there. You may not be used to taking orders, and I’m not the type to give them, not to you. But when it comes to these things, I can’t compromise.”

You watched him, his attention still captured by the world outside the window. His usual confident posture was now replaced by a hint of weariness, revealing a seldom-seen vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.

"So, this is your 'saving the damsel' moment, huh…,” you trailed off—the dry response sounding harsher than you wanted it to be.

“Think what you like, nena,” he said, definitely done with conversation as he moved towards his bedroom. “The couch is yours for the night. You know where the blankets are.”

[queersys]

Sending love to my in-system husband for being living proof that caretakers who struggle with hypersexuality are just as valid and capable of protecting children as those who don't struggle with the disorder. I swear this man is the sweetest, safest person you could leave your kid with. I make sure to remind him every time he has an episode that this does not define him. He's severely self-conscious and super anxious about being seen as a monster over the stigma of it, but he's proven time and time again that he can overcome even his worst episodes if it means staying calm enough to keep kids (in and out of system) safe.

(I make sure he takes a big break to relax afterwards and help him stay calm through the whole episode)

Hypersexual people/alters are not evil or dangerous, they have a very distressing disorder they never asked for, and are just as deserving of care as anyone else. I know it can seem diffixult very often, but you can do this. It takes a bit of effort but I promise your life isn't over for being like this. Just don't harm others (or yourself! Please be kind to your body and yourself too!) and do your best to stay safe.

-🦈

This is such a cute and kind message, and also very real and valid

As a system who have several alters with this disorder, myself (the host) included leaving with this kind of things doesn't makes us a danger or a monster, hypersexual alters deserve more love and recognition

Thanks for this ask, is so sweet and positive, sending love to your in-sys partner too