#and he never forgets the people who were / are truly important to him and whom he wants in his life

[girlactionfigure]

Like many others, after Auschwitz was liberated on January 27, 1945, he searched for his family. He had hopes that his family might have survived . . .

Under Adolf Hitler's leadership, the Nazi regime had killed an estimated 6 million Jewish people and millions of other victims whom he and his followers deemed Untermenschen ("sub-humans") and socially undesirable, including 2 million Romani people, 250,000 mentally and physically disabled people, and 9,000 homosexual men.

He was hoping he would find his wife and two daughters.

Five years earlier, when he and his family had realized Hitler's racially motivated ideology was promoting hatred, bigotry, racism and prejudice, he tried to get his family out of Germany, but he had run afoul of restrictive American immigration policies designed to protect national security and guard against an influx of foreigners.

He had written his American friend, "I am forced to look out for emigration and as far as I can see U.S.A. is the only country we could go to. Perhaps you remember that we have two girls. It is for the sake of the children mainly that we have to care for. Our own fate is of less importance."

America had, however, changed its attitude toward immigrants, especially refugees, who were fleeing war torn countries.

He would eventually find out that his wife was dead. She had died of starvation in one of the concentration camps. He still had hopes that his daughters may have survived, but those hopes were soon shattered as well.

He returned to the hiding place, in which he and his family hid for two years, now empty, only filled with sad memories. A trusted friend of the family met him and gave him some papers, which turned out to be the diaries of his daughter. She had died at the age of 15 at Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany.

He remembered that his daughter was so full of hope, she had wanted to be a writer, she wanted her diaries to be published after the war. At first he was hesitant, but his daughter always dreamed of improving the world, and he realized that his daughter's words could help.

She had written in that diary, "It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It's a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart."

Otto Frank would publish his daughter's diary so others would never forget. The title of the publication became known as "The Diary of a Young Girl" or Anne Frank's Diary.

~ jsr

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Ayesha Liveblogs Spy x Family S2

Awww, I like that Bond Forger the Dog also gets an intro about HIS secret identity. Equal opportunity deceit

Are we finally going to learn who exactly Yor is fighting? I would like to know!

Been there Anya, I also had little patience for watching the news as as a kid. Though, it seems more important in a pre-internet era

"Okay, you can change the channel." Loid Forger, International Spy, defeated by one (1) sad look from his little daughter

"I absolutely cannot tell him that I got shot in the butt while fighting a group of armed men." 10/10 episode plot, I cannot wait

"I've been relying on her too much without realizing it, and it's upset her. Yes, that must be it! I must do everything in my power to remedy this at once!" Loid immediately blaming Yor's mood on himself and deciding he has to be respond by being a better husband!!! I will keep saying it. He is THE Husband. World's Most Husband

"Why don't we go on a date?" HEE HEE

Puzzling that Yor thinks she hasn't been on a date though, when I can think of at least three dates so far (party-grenade-proposal date, lunch date, and drinks-and-reassurance date)

"I can't leave Anya alone at home, and this is a very important mission to ensure that we remain one happy family." It seems Loid has learned from the spy transmission debacle

"Last night, I came up with 862 date plans to ensure that Yor has fun." He's insane. I want to give him a leetle kiss

HAHAHAHA Franky being absolutely thrilled to bother Loid and Yor on their date. What a friendship 💕

Intriguing that Anya's telepathy has a distance limit. Tell me more!

Honestly, Yor having to position herself in a specific way to avoid pain is relatable. We love a chronic pain queen

"This woman had built up an immunity to poisons." HAHAHAHAHA the poison fixing Yor's pain. Sometimes, drinking does solve your problems!

LMAOOOO them censoring the bomb components. A real "don't try this at home" moment

NOT THE BABY MAKING THE BOMB. ANYA PLEASE

"I'm going to forget all this and live a normal life." Perfect. Forgers reforming their enemies left and right

"If it's not too much trouble, please invite me out again sometime." Never let being married stand in the way of your husband becoming your boyfriend 🥰

SCREAM at Bond's perception of what Loid does for work. I guess he's closer to the truth than most:

"Are you trying to do this for your... no. Are you trying to get revenge for your friends who were experimented on?" HAHAHA is Loid blushing because he wants to call himself his dog's dad?

FBKFJHFFHKJHF Loid taking on Bond as his mission back-up. He truly can be swayed so easily

WHERE DID LOID GET A DOG-SIZED SKI MASK AHHAHAHA

I love the giant puppy spy sidekick, employ this dog ASAP

"While they're busy playing, I'm going to work hard to get to the top," said Damian Desmond, Six Years Old, for whom The Top was beating all the other little bougie first graders

"Your friendship... preciously elegant." Me whenever I finish hanging out with my friends

I love that Henderson-sensei sends the kids out on a picnic as a punishment. He really is as silly as he is strict

I don't know if this is a vegetarian thing or a cultural thing but it always seems wild to me how people in anime bite into fish, scales and all

"Did you know that the most recent studies in neuroscience suggest that your brain feels really revitalized when you're spacing out?" I like Mr. Green, Grizzled Navy Custodian, too

HAHA Damian trying his hardest to space out. Me when people tell me to practice mindfulness

"Oh, you don't [have a goal], eh? That's perfectly fine!" "Actually, I want to live my life eating lots of snacks." "Splendid! You'll have to think earnestly about how to make that possible." I take it back, I LOVE MR. GREEN

Ready to sob about this field trip actually. AHHHHHHH:

"Good evening, Mr. Vile Trash." ACAB; All Cops are (Weird) Brothers

"What's so wrong about trying to improve the country my family lives in?" Nothing but the hostile, paternalistic nationalism of a Cold War, Frank Perkin, Newspaper Sensationalist and Adult Bully of Wealthy Children

"I'll request that your father gets some financial aid to get by." I feel like that will not make up for imprisoning his son, Yuri, but whatever helps you sleep

"Blech." That's also how I feel about Weird Brother Yuri, Anya

"Revenge will only make you sadder. I'll make you forget about all that with my love." This is the plot of Naruto

Honestly, I was super sold on the Bondman Polycule when it was just him, his spy partner Agent M, and the enemy spy lady who had all linked arms together. I feel like this could work:

"How was anything he did gentlemanly?" Loid said: I'm a one-woman kind of spy

"Lord Damian, how could you possibly pick the joker there." "Shut up!' [Internally] She's so unfair... Damn it! I like to believe Loid might approve of Damian's crush purely because he is also willing to do whatever Anya wants if she makes one (1) sad face

Poor Anya. She's really most suited to using her street smarts

"Garden? The group of assassins who have been in this country for ages? They're basically urban legends, aren't they?" FINALLY we're finding out more about Yor's job!! They do in fact seem at cross purposes with the spies

[Loid already walking away] "He's such a heartless jerk." I bet you $5 he has already decided to help Franky LMAO

Update from 8 min later: Alright, I owe you $5, he didn't care

"Am I normal?! Oh, thank goodness!" said Yor excitedly, as if that were not a moderately suspicious response to being called normal

Excited for an ep with no double-barreled title. Plot progression!

I truly don't know where this falls on the spectrum of ways that anime will depict black and brown characters LMAO. Like Donovan Desmond, the Shopkeeper has an extremely haunting aura:

"You will be providing protection on this mission." Oooooh, change of pace!

"Is there actually any reason why I should continue my job as a killer?" A question every assassin should ask themselves, I think

"HQ may or may not be trying to cut back on our shady overtime practices." Incredible. I can't believe even the underground spy agency has PTO. I wonder who regulates spy labour law

"If not for this bodyguard job, the three of us could've enjoyed this vacation together." AWWW Yor loves her family so much

"You can say this is a gangster's destiny." [Reba voice] A single mom who works too hard, who loves her kid never stops!

"Papa! We need to hurry up and explore the ship before it sinks!" "It's not going to sink! Stop scaring everyone." The fact the staircase looks distinctly modelled after that one scene from Titanic really sells Anya's point

Loid incapable of framing having fun as anything but a mission ljggkjgj truly he might benefit from a Real Psychologist

"That family's just for camoflauge, right?" "Yes, you're right... Is... that true?" I love Yor slowly admitting that she loves her family for their own sake 💗

As Yor was declaring doing her best, I did worry briefly that someone was going to [redact] Olka. Other anime have been less kind to me than Spy x Family

I love Yor making another mum friend in Olka 💞 Gal pals

Finally saying suspicious things in public has a consequence!!

"It's been a while since we've had dinner without Mama." "Yeah, it's a bit lonely." Hee hee, Loid misses his wife

I love the immediate transformation in Yor's face as soon as Olka/Shaty says she didn't order room service

I don't have much to say but I am really entranced by the assassin vs. assassin + informant goings on!!

"I may not look it, but I'm a married woman, so I'll have to decline." Absolutely loving Yor quietly and efficiently beating these hitmen unconscious as she passes through the cruise ship

"Which is it?! Would normal parents buy their child something in this situation or not?!" Loid is incapable of making a decision without thinking about how it looks in relation to him being a spy. Anxiety king

[In Anya's mind] "Yor! You're an assasin who hates frogs? Let's get a divorce. The Forgers are done." Like father, like anxiety-ridden daughter

"I am a normal father. A good father," said Loid, which is frankly not usually something a good or normal father would say

"Papa, you're not excited at all." Loid defeated by one (1) six-year-old's piercingly accurate psychoanalysis

Loid is facing a true Psychological Battle: The Fitting Room

Anya Ultimate Wingman Award for convincing everyone her mum's battle is actually a circus act

Awwww, Zeb, Fake Husband to Olka, likes her. I hope this is a healthy experience in Yor seeing other fake couples work it out, but I do also think Zeb could mega-die

"As long we people continue to be people, conflict will never end." Alright, Director Doomsday, calm down

"What am I? What am I doing this for?" [B Eilish voice] What was I made foooooor?

"Does she hate me? Or is she just going through a rebellious phase?" Loid whenever one of the Forger girls looks upset: THIS MUST BE MY FAULT SOMEHOW

A hasty and confident NO to Assassin Sniff's whole vibes

We interrupt this program to think about how cute Loid and Anya are!! I love Loid entertaining Anya and also supporting her while he thinks she's missing Yor

"Nice, Mr. Husband!" Oh good, we love a bulletproof vest for Zeb!

Truly a wild juxtaposition of Forger Family Fireworks Night:

"This might be a bit late to ask, but would you consider just peacefully going home?" I love you, Compassionate Combat

I'm having a hard time believing all this will happen without Loid eventually noticing; the fireworks are long gone. I actually do hope Loid crashes her battle, Director Doomsday is out cold

"I'm doing this to support my family.... wait. I guess I am also doing this for money. But... no, I make enough to survive now. I'm hunting down bad guys for my country! For my country? Have I always been so righteous? What am I doing this for?" Poor Yor, this is like the worst possible time for an existential crisis

YOR AND LOID BOTH BEING MOTIVATED BY THEIR DESIRE FOR OTHERS TO LIVE A PEACEFUL LIFE 😭💘😭💘😭💘😭💘

[In Yor's flashback] "Be it for someone else, or for a specific reason, having to endure a merciless job... That's something to be very proud of." I'm sure Loid will acknowledge me. He'll forgive me. I like to think so too, Yor!!

Never mind to Loid helping Yor out, he is busy disarming a bomb threatening to sink them. This truly is the Titanic LMAO

LGLHGLGJHGLJHG Anya accidentally tripping the assassins so they shoot each other. Like mother, like daughter 💖

"You'll be able to enjoy the symphony of agonized screams and roars coming through the wiretaps on this ship." I can't wait for Loid to sink this guy with his own clock-bomb

Update from 30 seconds later: See? Self-owned and sunk

Awwwww Yor really does deserve the baby hug after the day she's had:

"I pray that, someday, you and your family will be able to find true peace." OLKAAAA

"I know it was an emergency, but I ended up casting my family aside again." Loid and Yor having the same crisis about whether to prioritize their family or their jobs 🥺🥺🥺

Loid's blush at Yor catching him skipping as he continues to skip over in her direction. Hee hee

"I hope peaceful days like this will continue forever." ME TOO, YOR!

Get you a mum who would secretly beat up sharks for you ❤️‍🩹

Setting aside how fun snorkeling is, absolutely terrible idea to go into the ocean with an open wound OMG

Loid carrying his whole family is the cutest thing I've ever seen, 10 bajilion/10zo; perfect:

[Internally] "You did a great job." Loid is in loooooove

"I can never tell if he's actually clever, or clumsy." Me either, Handler

Anya learning about the vacation disparity of rich kids LMAO

"If youre going to create a persona for yourself, you need to be strategic and commit." Not Loid turning this lie lecture into a spy lecture in his mind

"Lying is too much work, so I'll try not to do it anymore." Anya's entire set of adult role models do nothing but lie all the time, she really has no frame of reference for honesty

I do a little bit hate the Becky fantasizing about Loid thing, I have been Cardcaptor Sakura'd too much in life

NOT ANYA SELLING OUT HER MUM FOR THE POSSIBILITY OF BECKY BEING HER RICH SIX-YEAR-OLD STEPMUM OH MY GOD

I feel like they take a lot of liberties in translating "Loid-sama" as "my precious Loid" but hey, he is precious

"Yor's going to get the wrong idea, somehow." Loid has finally registered that this child is obsessed with him and he is only concerned for wife not thinking he's a freak. A good husband above all else

"I really don't understand the children of rich people." Me either, Loid

I need you to see Loid's face as Becky declares that this is his expression of love for Yor:

"Your heart is as vast as the sky, and you're stronger than the earth itself. You're the perfect lady." Correct, Becky! Yor is amazing

"I had some extra souvenirs left after handing them out to everyone else. Do you want them?" LMAO @ the implication being lost on Fiona that he doesn't even think of her enough to warrant her own souvenir

I will say, I really do resonate with the theme of the ep being Loid is Hot and Amazing to Everyone But No One Will Ever Measure Up to Yor in His Eyes

"Maybe you're too nice, and biting and barking don't really suit you." Everyone in the Forger family is too nice for their job, including Bond Forger, Precognitive Puppy

Awwww Bond trying to help out all the humans with his visions

LNKFHKFHKJFH Loid really just got reprimanded by his dog

"And he went into save [Daisy the puppy]? What an impressive dog!" I love the Spy Dad-Psychic Puppy tag-team ❤️

[Internally] "I am a cool-headed spy. I cannot let my emotions show." Loid remains deadpan through SO many things but his dog looking a little funny while wet is his limit. What a man!

"Don't push yourself too hard. There's someone waiting back home who would be sad if you died." 1) V sweet, dad first, hero second. And 2) This is the second time Loid has directly spoken to his life situation with a simultaneous thinly-veined dog metaphor

WAHHHHHHH Loid and Bond's heroics being acknowledged by Anya giving them little paper Stellas:

Yor immediately joining in and congratulating them for their hard work on their walk!!! I LOVE ONE (1) SPY X FAMILY 😭😭😭😭😭 IT'S A NICE SHOW

[lady-phasma]

Do you believe Aemond is a Valyrian Supremacist? He models Daemon so much in his focus on Valyrian history, dragons, Targaryen blood etc, that to me I feel as though he must to some extent believe Targaryen's to be superior? I see alot of people defending him on the basis he isn't, but... I just don't see why Aemond of all characters wouldn't have feelings of superiority based on his blood? Extending from that, do you think he would have preferred to wed a Targaryen woman? We get a glimpse he feels that way from the TV show, but in the circumstances he had another sister instead of Helaena, surely he would have been betrothed to her/wanted to be? I just truly cannot see him as being free of "bigotry" in regards to seeing non- Valyrians as below him. Like? Isn't that the point of him hating Rhaneyra's sons? Because they are bastards from a lower House?

This is a really great ask, anon. Thank you for asking me. But of course, you asked me, so it’s no surprise that I will give a very me answer.

First, I really dislike having that phrase Valyrian Supremacist on my blog. I only have it one other time that I can remember and that was also an ask. Briefly, I’ll tell you why: it is a 20th-21st century Earth term that may not have been present in Westeros. If we are discussing in-universe theory and not literary/film theory then I choose to avoid it.

This may get long but I want to be as clear as possible: I only slightly agree with you. If we grant the premise, that he models parts of his personality after Daemon (which is a difficulty premise to grant in its entirety), then I would say that his Targaryen side would value that heritage to a degree. However, he cares deeply for his entire family and that includes the Hightowers. His last name is Targaryen, but let’s not forget he is also a Hightower. I think great houses/names are very important to royalty in Westeros, Aemond included. Hightowers are certainly not lowborn.

Trying to go in the same order as your questions, I would say next that all descendants of Valyria may feel superior because of history and dragon lore. I can never overlook House Velaryon in these discussions. They also have immense pride in their heritage and name. However, when you say “Aemond of all characters” I wonder exactly why he stands out as someone for whom this pride seems more important. If we examine his actions in season one and in the book, I think we can see that his character is no more or less concerned with it than the average character.

If he were more concerned with Targaryen blood and that pride fueled his decisions, what would that say about Alys Rivers? I think most fans who haven’t read the book know a little about her, but for those who don’t she was a bastard Aemond took as a “war bride.” Regardless of whether or not she bewitched him, we can’t talk about his life as a whole without mentioning her and their relationship. If she did, we aren't told at exactly what point that happened. He wasn't above sex with non-Targaryens.

Since it was first uttered, I have been obsessed with his line “I would perform my duty, if mother had only betrothed us.” Leo Ashton delivered it with such sincerity and commitment that it is hard to argue against Aemond’s devotion to his family (not discussing any specific romantic ships here). As we know, royalty and aristocracy in Westeros get very little choice in who they wed. The hypothetical “if he had another sister” is interesting because that marriage would, ultimately, be decided by Viserys and Alicent.

Such a betrothal would have been seen as a duty and honorable, so I have no doubt that Aemond would have agreed. I don’t know that anyone would disagree that Aemond puts his family above everything else. Thus, I have yet to see in the series direct bigotry from him. Factually, with no nuance, the issue with Rhaneyra’s sons is illegitimacy. Every character may have a different interpretation as to how this effects the line of succession and only a few state it explicitly in the series. I would argue that Aemond doesn’t care that their father isn’t Laenor Velaryon when he first calls them bastards. Children at that age might not really comprehend the ramifications of that accusation (I think we see clearly that Aegon doesn’t). Aemond first dislikes his nephews because they were cruel to him. Yes, his brother was as well. The Pink Dread was seemingly almost entirely Aegon’s idea, but siblings often forgive each other more readily than they may forgive outsiders.

In Fire & Blood we get a clear picture of how much his animosity and resentment fuel his actions:

One by one, every man and boy with Strong blood in his veins was dragged forth and put to death, until the heap made of their heads stood three feet tall.

I do not think this action was about bloodlines or heritage. I believe this was entirely revenge. By this point in the Dance, Aemond is furious and nearly crazed by his need to avenge the wrongs done to his family. I don’t think it was an attempt to annihilate the Strong bloodline, but a show of force and power. Aemond is formidable, rash, and still young enough to not care about consequences. Perhaps you have noticed I skipped over the direct slight against him. Lucerys altered Aemond’s life irrevocably. Had this same mutilation happened to a low born boy, he would have had no future at all in Westeros. Aemond’s lifestyle was only salvaged because he is royalty and through determination of will.

Would the loss of an eye, the murder of one’s young nephew (Prince Jaehaerys), and the maiming of one’s brother cause a young prince to go nearly mad with rage and the need for revenge? I believe so. By this point in the Dance, further along than I think you asked about, Targaryen heritage is probably the last thing on Aemond’s mind. I have no doubt that he was raised to believe that dragons, the throne, and many other things make Targaryens better. But we should never discount his mother’s influence. This man loves her dearly and Alicent may provide some balance in his understanding of things. My headcanon about his religion (not particularly relevant here) comes from the canon that Alicent has a strong faith in the Seven. I think this has a deep effect on Aemond and could influence whether or not Targaryen blood is paramount to him.

Lastly, I wanted to address this statement:

I see a lot of people defending him on the basis he isn’t

I assume that you use “defending” in the sense that these fans attempt to separate him as somehow immune to this pride or better than other Targaryens. I don’t know that I have read exactly the defenses you’re referencing, but I will be clear: this is not a discussion of fanfiction. If that is an element of a work of fanfiction, then by all means, go for it. It doesn’t seem plausible, however, that anyone of Valyrian descent is immune to this type of indoctrination.

[phonkscribes]

Please write loser Wesker fantasizing about the reader but the games open so they're like "what are you doing lol" and hes like "NO!! NOTHING!!! NOT AT ALL!!"

Here you go! I made it kinda sappy, sorry if it's not what you were hoping for but I got inspired from a fic I read on ao3. Minor angst and comfort in this post of the Loser Wesker AU!

He opened the game, but not to play it. Today had been a particularly rough for him, given that he'd managed to get a bad grade on a test he was so sure he'd ace. His father was harsh, talking down to him about how he disappointed him when he knew he could've done better than that. Wesker knew that too, he was perfect-- he was supposed to be, but this put a blight on his record. Albert didn't like that at all, because he'd obsess over it, whether he wanted to or not. It'd sit in the back of his head like a tumor, and the longer he stares at you, the longer you wonder what has him in such a mood.

You wouldn't say such harsh things to him, you wouldn't have cared because at the end of it all, he was still brilliant and still great. He could look into your eyes for hours, tracing his pupils along your pixelated irises and sclera. He imagines what it'd be like if you were real. If you were here besides him. Your arms are quite strong, even for a silly old game, the developers did an impeccable job. He thinks about what it'd be like to find them wrapped around his body, pulling him into a firm hug. You think he forgets that you're not a mindless machine trapped within the confines of his computer, but in fact very sentient.

Silly boy.

You decide to not say anything, only raising your brow as per usual in your idle stance within the character select screen. Wesker lowers his head to the desk with a longing sigh, his lips pursed into a thin line as he extends his hand to his monitor. His hand ghosts the side of the screen, just out of sight from your field of view. Your hand would feel warm against his own, he bets. Albert thinks that it'd be overwhelming, startling because he's never had the privilege with someone who's grown as close to him as you have. Which is laughable because you don't know that yet, you're sure he has other people of whom he turns to confide. The silence that fills his room is only disrupted by the character select theme and his breathing, which irritates you. You weren't meant to sit still and look pretty.

You're a genetically modified being, constructed by your own will to enact your will. You're a god amongst gods, a ruler over the feeble sheep and slaughterer of the lambs who dare to rise up. What could he possibly be thinking of that has him so remotely lost? What could it be that has him staring at you so openly? Has the fool lost his shame at last?

"Albert", your tone is sharp, and it startles him from his little day dreaming, "Why are you wasting my time today?", you bark, but it's not in that condescending, holier-than-thou attitude that he's grown so used to.

You're... concerned. Which is touching, truly, but it still manages to catch him off guard. Wesker tries to regain his composure right after he had lost it, clearing his throat and acting casual.

"Er- sorry... I was just thinking about something", he replies quickly.

Your brow furrows, but you smirk, because it must involve you somehow. There's scarcely anything that doesn't involve you in his life at the moment. You're honored to have such a devout servant, even if he's quite pathetic at times. The way that you're looking at him makes him hold his breath, because Wesker figures you're about to ask him about just what that was.

"About?"

"Nothing important, I can assure you"

"Albert... do not lie to me", you soften your gaze and he feels like he's being pulled in. The color of his cheeks darken, which stirs something in you.

You like messing with him, the reactions he has are adorable, but you weren't doing that now. You wait for him to respond as you sit down, trying to level yourself with him. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes again as he takes a deep breath. He's thankful for his shades, otherwise this would be much harder if you could see him cry. He doesn't want to cry in front of you again, now that you were sentient and could see it.

The only thing that he keeps to himself is that he wants to so badly be within your arms, that he wants to hold onto you and never let go, to be saved from the high expectations, and to be at your side. There's only so much that you could tell another person, much less you.

[twistedsamuraiadvice]

Dear Fulbright, I hope this letter finds you well. As I sit here, pondering over the complexities of life, an intriguing question comes to mind, one that provokes deep contemplation and elicits a range of conflicting emotions. It is a hypothetical scenario that invites us to consider our priorities and the values we hold dear.

Imagine, if you will, a world where justice prevails, where righteousness is unwavering, and peace reigns supreme. In this realm, however, there exists a heartbreaking twist - the sacrifice of a beloved person, Simon Blackquill in order to achieve this seemingly unattainable utopia. The question arises: would we be willing to pay such a steep price to bring about what so many yearn for?

Balancing this proposition is another alternate reality, where every criminal is allowed to roam free, their nefarious actions unchecked and unpunished. Yet, in this chaotic state, you are revered like a deity, treated with awe and unwavering admiration. Without doubt, this would stroke our ego and provide an immense sense of power, but at what cost to our own morality and the wellbeing of society?

Reflecting on these two options, I find myself pulled in different directions. The allure of stamping out injustice and creating a fair world where righteousness thrives is undeniable. However, the idea of cherishing and preserving human life, Simon Blackquill with whom we have shared countless memories and cherished moments, is undeniably heart-wrenching.

Conversely, in a world where criminals roam free but revere us as a godlike figure, we must question the consequences. Would such unrestrained freedom result in societal collapse, a dystopian nightmare where morality loses its way? Moreover, can the adulation of others truly replace the need for a just and balanced world?

As I struggle to decide between these complex alternatives, I recognize that life rarely offers such clear-cut choices. The pursuit of justice should be at the heart of our actions, driven not by personal gain or self-importance, but by a genuine desire to create a better world. However, the price we pay, particularly when it involves the loss of a cherished being, cannot be easily dismissed or taken lightly.

In the end, my dear Detective, the question lingers, unanswered but not forgotten. It serves as a constant reminder of the intricate dilemmas life presents us, urging us to question our values, our sense of duty, and ultimately, the legacy we leave behind. Perhaps, instead of choosing one extreme or the other, we should strive to find a balance, where justice prevails while cherishing every individual life, never forgetting the worth of one soul, even in pursuit of a greater good.

May this letter spark a thoughtful contemplation within you, as it did for me. I eagerly await your perspective, knowing that our shared discussions always deepen my understanding of life's intricacies.

With warm regards,

Umi Teardrop

Dear Teardrop,

First, I'm sorry it's taken some time to respond, I know it's a long wait, but I really wanted to sit with this.

As....naive as it sounds, there was a time where I really thought Justice would always prevail, bad things happened, but good would win out in the end. Like how it always did in stories, everything would look dark, but then something would change, there'd be some hero at the end of it.

W...when my father left, I told myself it was better that way, because my grandparents were good people, who loved me, and someday... someday my parents would realize they loved me too, and if they didn't....there'd be justice, somehow. I was never sure how, just that they'd be sorry. Really I just wanted to stop feeling like there was something wrong with me, because that was the only other option, and it hurt.

I think that's part of the reason I wanted to reform Blackquill....sure, he had been sentenced, but if he changed his ways, then it wouldn't be just anymore to kill him. And he was good, deep down, so shouldn't we try?

Then someone else came, and I found out how much evil there really was in the world.

No one even noticed I was gone.

....And sure, it came out in the end. They found me, eventually.

But...was that really winning? People died, Blackquill went to prison, Miss Cykes had her whole life uprooted, and for what?

What was it all for?

.....

I do believe in justice. There is good in the world. But it's not what I thought. We have to fight for it, there isn't some....force out there, making it happen.

It's in the hands of people. Normal, every day people. Not heros. Just people.

I'm sorry, I think I got off topic. I need to sit down.

In...justice, we trust.

-Bobby Fulbright

[glorf1ndel]

For @thelordofgifs. Surprise! We were talking about Finrod, so this fic is dedicated to you. :D

Not Alone (~800 words, gen)

Finrod talks about snakes; Sauron, with the eyes of a snake, listens.

On Ao3 or below!

Finrod is not alone for long.

He sits in the darkness of his cell in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, trying to ignore the wounds on his body, the way his stomach rolls with hunger, and his almost unbearable thirst. Of course, ignoring these things does not work, but it is better than thinking of Beren, who is imprisoned elsewhere in these dungeons. Bëor’s descendant, Barahir’s son, whom Finrod was supposed to help – instead, they are both languishing in cells, waiting in vain for their suffering to end –

Then the door to Finrod’s cell opens, and all thoughts flee from his mind. It is Sauron; who else? Yet Finrod is not expecting him, for he has already been tortured once this day. The lord of the fortress, which Finrod helped build with his own hands long ago, looks triumphant.

“I’ve discovered your identity,” he says, voice swelling with pride. “You are Finrod Felagund, ruler of Nargothrond.”

“Congratulations.”

“That is all you have to say?”

Sauron’s eyes narrow to slits as they regard him. They look very much like a snake’s. Finrod looks up into those ophidian eyes, his mind working.

“I’ve always liked snakes,” he says, giving Sauron a light smile. “They’re my favorite animal. When I was a child, I would play with the garter snakes in my backyard. Sometimes they would bite me, and I would try not to cry. But for the most part, they would slither around my arms, then return to the grass. I think they got used to me, but I never forgot that they could bite at any time. Such are wild creatures. In the end, their natures are surprising, even incomprehensible to the Elven mind.”

“What’s your point?”

“When I grew older, I made the snake the symbol of my house. I didn’t want to forget that there are beings in the world that we will never truly understand, and yet we coexist with them in a sensitive balance.”

Sauron smirks and crosses his arms.

“I see. You’re saying that you and I will never understand each other, but we should try to get along.” He scoffs, but it sounds more like a hiss. “If you believe that, then you are a fool, and the people of Bëor call you “Nóm” for nothing.”

Arching a brow, Finrod surveys Sauron’s face carefully. On the surface, the Lord of Tol-in-Gaurhoth wears the visage of an elf, but there are cracks in that appearance. The snakelike eyes, for one. The raised, slightly furred ears of a wolf. Sauron’s sharp, vampiric teeth. His red hair that glows in the darkness, as though lit by an inner fire. The soft smile does not leave Finrod’s lips as he says,

“That is not what I mean at all. Perhaps, at another time or in another place, we could have gotten along. You were once a Maia of Aulë, were you not? I am a friend to the Dwarves, who are great smiths. Together, we could have appreciated their love for the craft, even worked alongside them,” he murmurs, gaze drifting away from Sauron for just a moment.

Sauron snaps his fingers in front of Finrod’s face. The Elf looks back at him, very slowly.

“But I digress. What I am saying is this. I have met many an Ainu, enough to understand them. They may be unlike Elves, but they value similar things. Family and friendship. Love. Power. Knowledge about the mysteries of the universe. I am sure that some of these things are important to you.

“Yet something about you is different: your appearance. You can be an Elf, a vampire, a wolf, even a snake – but you do not take these forms because they are a natural part of you. You take them to deceive, to exact cruelty on others simply because you can. And that does not fit into the order of things.

“I understand you, Sauron,” Finrod says serenely, though the look in his eyes is ferocious. “You are evil. The world will not rest until it destroys you.”

Something in Sauron’s eyes shifts. Call it a trick of the dim light, but Finrod thinks he can see the dark, large-pupiled eyes of an ordinary Ainu, if only for a moment. Then the snakelike gaze is back, but the Lord of Tol-in-Gaurhoth is turning on his heel to leave Finrod’s cell.

“Then let the world try,” he snarls, and slams the door behind him.

Finrod sighs in relief. He thought he would die, this time. Thank Eru that Sauron has left, for arguing with him is exhausting. At last, Finrod is alone. Or so he thinks, for in the corner of his vision, he sees something slither out of the corner of his cell. Not alone, he thinks, and smiles.

****

Thank you for reading. <3 If you'd like, leave kudos and a comment on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!

[naffeclipse]

Ok, ok, gonna send these before I forget!

So, those tags in the last in the response to the most recent Bounty Hunter Eclipse ask have me really curious! You say that Eclipse does indeed give y/n information he has never given anyone before, maybe hoping that this will somewhat balance a little what he did to them (and probably expecting y/n to take revenge on him if they wanted to), maybe even as a way to give them some security in the knowledge that if Eclipse wanted to hurt them with the information he already has about their days with Afton, they could absolutely hurt him right back with this new info about him. An 'insurance' of a sort?

But that has me thinking about those key differences between Eclipse and the vigilante and how what truly hurts them are very different things! Both share of course the common factor of not wanting to lose the detectives, the most important people in their lives, (although Eclipse also does not want to lose y/n, but at this point he knows that's out of his control).

But to y/n, what hurts is having their very bloody past ruin the good they are trying to build in the present, and fearing that the monster they feel they were would come to haunt them, that the guilt of their past would never leave them be and that they would never be allowed happiness because of it (fearing they would deserve it as well after all the awful stuff they did). Meanwhile, for Eclipse it's about that feeling of having ever been vulnerable. He puts so much effort in being the one that knows everything about everything, the one that always gets his way, the one to be feared, the unstoppable force AND the immovable object. The idea of people knowing that he once had so little control on what would happen to him, and that those days were the darkest for him, where someone could conceivably dig up something up that could hurt him is what he hates the most. Appearing weak. Especially in front of those whom he wants to hold him in high regards.

Having said that, I do wonder what it was like for him before Sun and Moon arrived. What is so bad that he refused to tell even his brothers, who also knew abuse at the hands of the daycare staff? What is so bad that he considers telling the vigilante about it an equal trade off for such a terrible slip up on his part?

Was it a much worse situation when he was working alone because the work load was just terrible and he was the only one at which people would direct the mistreatment? Or maybe it was more of a mental low, when he just had fallen into a routine that seemed to have no light in it until he got to meet Sun and Moon? Or maybe it was about how his own starting point? Thinking about the chapter where we see their first night in the streets, Eclipse reflects on how Sun and Moon's code was still developing back then. So maybe once he was more like his brothers, when he had just been built, but the fact that his own code developed exclusively in that daycare made the resentment become very deeply rooted in him?

(...I just made myself sad at the thought that possibly it is Eclipse's good treatment of Sun and Moon so early in their lives that made a good impression on them and left them with the very firm idea that, even in the harshest of situations and environments, kindness was an option. So seeing the one that taught this to them descend into such a dark place must have been doubly painful ;-;)



Eclipse's beginning days before Sun and Moon joined him at the daycare were dreary and dark. He hasn't allowed control or respect and lacked anyone to turn to for support or comfort. He was alone, abused by the hands of the daycare owners, and driven relentlessly into work.

He doesn't speak of that time to Sun and Moon because he can't have them know how much he suffered, that he was nothing before they came along. It would upset them too much.

Giving every bloody detail to the vigilante kills him in a way—his pride and his anger and desire for control want to rip it back from them but they know now. It's terrifying. He hates that he feels weak again, but when the vigilante looks at him, seeing someone who isn't a bloody bounty hunter and someone who doesn't squeeze too tight every time they meet, but someone who endured, too. Someone who had to survive and even excelled at surviving in the only horrible way they knew how.

He doesn't feel alone. He is still fearful and wants to shield his vulnerabilities, but he starts to feel hope for the first time that maybe he's not stuck as he is. Maybe he can change again, this time in a better direction, this time to keep everything he loves safe and sound and close.

The vigilante starts to understand. They hold his truth and handle it with tender care, and allow the first inclining of forgiveness to dwell within them.

He has a long way to go, but addressing the root of his problems is a good first step.

(YESSS! Eclipse nourished Sun and Moon a ton, not that they didn't have their own choices and personalities, but Eclipse truly showed them great brotherly care and protection, and that allowed Sun and Moon to believe in goodness and kindness and love.)

[solomanta]

Very good advice.

People tend to forget the origins and reasons behind the older books of magic. And Ars Goetia is one such book.

It is written by religious cristians for religious cristians. That's important to remember.

They used force to command demons, because to bargain with them would be to go against g-d, and their own faith and loyalty.

It also explains why so many precautions and protections had to be taken.

If someone forcefully dragged you from ehat you were doing, then started commanding you around, I'm sure you'd be pissed and wanted to harm the idiot who tried too.

While the more modern versions of summoning --such as the one mentioned above-- is less of a guarantee (because you are asking, not forcing, and those you ask can say no, unlike when forced) it is still a far better methode to use.

Safer as well. And good manners helps. As does a show of subservience to those of a high ranking. Tho different demons care more, and some less about politeness and etiquette.

And I would warn that some demons truly are dangerous. Whether it is because they have a more volatile nature, or simply have anger or deception at the very core of their being.

Much like humans, demons have different personalities. And you would be wise to study that well before you attempt a summoning.

To summon someone like Asmodeus, whom may decieve you, or harm you if you are rude --he is for the most part quite plesant and friendly as long as you are polite and treat him with respect...

...it is quite different from summoning a demon like Glasya Labolas. A demon in the shape of a dog, whos nature is in line with it's apperance. And it has a temperament similar to the Japanese Youkai type Inugami.

A very dangerous undertaking to summon that particular demon.

Alasdair, Hell's Executioner, is another class as well. Wonderful to use against your enemies, but will go to gruesome lengths and take great pleasure in it.

I have had very good result from working with him, but he always demands a high price, and takes more than what you believe you offered.

Orobas, on the other hand, I have heard is more prone to friendlyness and honesty.

So really...

Never assume demons are a group of kind and fluffy creatures when treated right. I know of at least three people who made that mistake, two of which are now permanent residents at the mental ward, and one whom is dead.

Demons are demons. They are not angels, nature creatures or benevolent, misunderstood little fluff-bunnies. (Although I have no doubt they could pretend to be, if it suited their purpose.)

One should also remember that demons are known for deception. If a demon is nice, or tells a sob-story of his/her life, odds are that it serves some purpose, and the demon wants something from you.

That said, if what you want aligns with what the demon wants, you can have a wonderful and prosperous relationship for the both of you.

Demons are amazingly good at granting humans eartly pleasures and delights --or at the very least teach the humans how to get it themselves.

And each one is different. Which really is my main point.

.

As a final note, I'd recomend to carve the sigil into a black candle, not just write it on paper. And smear the sigil with blood.

When you light it, and call for the demon to ask it to join you, add a drop or two of blood to the flame.

Your Offering will be apriciated and make the demon more likely to answer.

It is also traditional to offer the demon a gift or Offering when you call upon them. Especially those of a higher rank.

It is not a hard and fast rule, but more a show of appreciation that most demons will like. Thus making them more likely to come.

Also try to dress nice and make your summoning space look good.

Think of it like this:

Would you call on the Queen of England, or the President of the United States wearing a t-shirt and underwear, sending a informal text message instead of writing a polite letter, and expect them to not care if your house looks like a dump and you've got not even a bottle of wine with you?

If you wouldn't treat the leader of your country that way, don't treat a King (or otherwise titled) Demon that way. That is a good rule of thumb.

Some of the more formal demon Kings like to hold on to old feudal rules and traditions as well, and may apriciate the whole bended knee and kissing their hand.

(Paimon tend to be expecting such things. He is kind when he wants to be, but expects proper worship and adoration. Those I know who has worked with him find he enjoys being treated as a Maharaja or Sultan of the old days. Although he enjoys being seen as a generous and benevolent master, but makes for a truly terrifying enemy.)

Priestess Akelta speaks a great deal about how Mammon enjoys luxuries set out for him, and for the human to hard work towards their own success.

As I said before; It ultimatly comes down to each demon and their personality how you should treat them.

So study the demon you wish to summon, and try your best to be a good host/hostesses for the one you call.

Demons can be your greatest friend, or your worst enemy.

Try to stay on their good side.

--Belial

On Summoning Demons

Strap in mammals, I need to correct some stupidities about “summoning” major demons. I’ll lay out a proper procedure in a few easy steps. This isn’t for minor infernals, but so-called “princes of Hell”, as it were. I’ll focus on the Goetic demons. Step One: Acquire a copy of Ars Goetia (you can get a free PDF online) Step Two: Record names, sigils, and descriptions of any you want to contact. Step Three: Throw the rest of Ars Goetia in the garbage and tell it that it’s a very rude poorly behaved book. Step Four: Inscribe a sigil on whatever you have available. If you happen to have an unused gold tablet laying around I’m sure they’d be flattered, so by all means pull out the dremel tool and get to work. If you’re like the rest of us, pen and paper is fine. If you want to get really fancy, use a consecrated pen or special ink. Step Five: Cast a circle and so on in whatever fashion suits your tradition. It’s not to protect you from the demon, it’s to screen out discordant energy and interference. Step Six: Respectfully request their presence and begin conversing. Treat them as one part deity and two parts royalty. Please and thank you. Yes sir/ma’am. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. In fact don’t even think of it as summoning. That word implies compulsion. You are asking, not telling. The Goetic demons are GODS. Several of them can be traced to their origins. Asteroth is the Egyptian Astarte. The idea that you can force them to do your bidding, or that you can protect yourself from them, is a joke. The Goetic concept that they are bound to specific sigils and commands is based on a pact made by King Solomon for a fixed period of time, which has expired. It’s useless now, even if it ever was genuine. They help those who they find worthy, and no one else. If you are respectful, and they find you worthy, they may choose to help you. If you are unworthy, some of them might just decide to fuck with you. Which would fall under the category of not my problem, so follow my advice at your own risk. Each demon has their own standards and personality. It’s almost like they’re real people (heavy sarcasm). If you want to work with them, treat them as such. If you give a major demon an order, I have zero sympathy for what they may do to you. I am not recommending that anyone evoke demons. For humans it’s really generally not a good idea unless they take an interest in you first. You don’t have claws and scales. But if you’re going to do it anyway, try not to make an ass of yourself. Entrails are a bitch to clean out of carpet. Carry on, and good luck, humans.

[ot-is-spilled-blog]

‘Our language is a reflection of ourselves.’ – Cesar Chavez.

Four weeks ago, there stood a girl dressed in green scrubs clutching onto her belongings in the community out of fear of the unknown. This girl was both naïve and sheltered in her upbringing. Pieces of privilege from her own life were beginning to be challenged and reflected on. The injustices and the lives of others, so close to her own home had a stark contrast. It was black and white. This is a reality in South Africa, there is a lack of balance in our societies because of overriding injustices. That girl is me, a final-year occupational therapy student thrust into her first day of community fieldwork with fears, worries and anxiety.

Cesar Chavez, who is a civil rights activist, stated that ‘Our language is a reflection of ourselves.’ He goes on to explain how this represents growth in a person (Chavez, 2023). This blog aims to reflect on my experiences and thoughts on the 4 weeks, I have spent working in the community of Cato Crest and Denis Hurley Centre and the lessons learnt.

Much of my anxiety, was due to feedback and commentary from previous students. I heard numerous complaints and rants. However, I began to quickly realise that other people’s experiences cannot shape mine. It was after the second week of fieldwork that my thinking shifted, and the magic occurred.

As clinicians, we must always begin by thinking critically. Critical thinking allows one to become solution based. This ensures the best possible intervention for your client and ways in which your therapeutic skills could improve (Doyle, 2022). It is very important to look at life from every side and angle. This is what I struggled with in my first few weeks of community. Previously, I was so used to working within the box and this was dependent on whether I was in a paediatric or psycho-social fieldwork block. Since I began this degree, it has always been emphasised, how OT is based on being holistic to a client. But I have never truly achieved this up until community. As my wise supervisor repeatedly asked, ‘How is your session any different from a normal paediatric session?’, ‘What if this was the last time seeing your client?’ This was the missing puzzle piece for me, what if it was?  The gears shifted in my mind. This is the reality of community-based practice.  Therefore, I had to now become confident, and ensure every aspect of OT was being addressed in my session or else I would be failing as a clinician and doing my client a disservice. This a lesson to carry into community service.

A few moments stuck out to me and are impossible to forget. My previous fieldwork block was at Newlands Park Centre for substance abuse users. Within my first week at Denis Hurley Centre, I bumped into a gentleman whom I was working with at NPC. It felt like fate. He had a happy ending, he visibly looked well and was still sober. He was holding his little daughter's hand and is working on mending the relationships in his family. He was still benefiting from the social work counselling and even attended my substance abuse group to motivate those in active addiction. It felt like a success. However, on the flip side, there was another gentleman who also knew me from the rehabilitation centre, he is currently homeless and relapsed within 48 hours of completing the program.  I began to reflect and ask myself, ‘What went wrong?’

Was it the intervention that failed him? However, the previous gentlemen were a success story. So perhaps it was his own actions and negligence? When I spoke to him more at DHC, I realised that he had the tools and knowledge for sobriety but did not implement this. This is what I realised occurs in other communities too.

Similarly, Thandeka’s Creche in Cato Crest was previously given many resources by students over the years. However, on visiting the creche it was bare of all resources. Previously, a recreational area was painted and created for children, this is now filled with rubbish and rubble. There are countless stories of projects being vandalised, stolen, or lost in the community. I am not sure how we can tackle this in the future. Perhaps, at the creche, we can begin taking inventory each time services are provided. I still have not answered my question of why people in the community cause harm to what is benefiting the wider population. I am afraid our services will not stop this, but the nature of occupational therapists is perseverance, and we cannot lessen or withdraw our services out of fear of theft, vandalization and crime. If we did this, we would be doing our profession a disservice by not trying to dismantle injustices and promote health and well-being.

The children at Dalton Creche come from a distraught home environment. There is an ongoing sewer issue, crime, drug abuse, and poverty, and the overall environment is not safe for play and development. At DHC, our sessions are done in a very different environment, the children have access to everything from hot meals to safe playing and technology. After visiting the actual creche, therapy sessions began to be structured differently. As I realised, we were not being holistic at all. Therefore, environmental safety was often discussed with the children using pictures, and cues to try and make therapy realistic and beneficial to their home environments.

In the Cato Manor clinic, I felt this process of learning was very realistic and prepared me for community service. As you do not have much preparation time and need to interview, assess, and provide intervention within a limited amount of time. This is what I struggled to implement but have become much more conscious about this.

All in all, despite the hardships experienced, this community block prepares you most for community service and working in primary health care or government facilities.  Imposter syndrome is real but do not mistake your lack of experience or knowledge as the inability to do something. We cannot be defensive if something goes wrong, we need to reflect on our interventions, consider constructive criticism and use this to improve as every single day comes with new lessons to be learnt.

Imposter Syndrome: 8 Ways to Deal With It Before It Hinders Your Success (hubspot.com)

The importance of self-reflection (irisconnect.com)

How To Give and Take Constructive Criticism (With Examples) | Indeed.com

8 Ways to Cope with College Anxiety and Stress (healthline.com)

References

Chavez, C. (2023). Cesar Chavez Quotes. Retrieved August 18, 2023, from BrainyQuote: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/cesar_chavez_389927#:~:text=Cesar%20Chavez%20Quotes&text=Our%20language%20is%20the%20reflection%20of%20ourselves.,and%20growth%20of%20its%20speakers.

Doyle, A. (2022, March 15). Critical Thinking Definition, Skills, and Examples. Retrieved August 17, 2023, from ThoughtCo.: https://www.thoughtco.com/critical-thinking-definition-with-examples-2063745

Gepp, K. (2021, May 20). 8 Tips for Coping with Anxiety as a College Student. Retrieved August 18, 2023, from healthline: https://www.healthline.com/health/anxiety/college-anxiety

Herbert-Smith, K. (2023, March 27). The importance of self-reflection. Retrieved August 18, 2023, from IRIS: https://blog.irisconnect.com/uk/community/blog/importance-of-self-reflection/#:~:text=We%20learn%20by%20experiences%20and,from%20just%20experiencing%2C%20into%20understanding.

Indeed. (2023, July 31). How To Give and Take Constructive Criticism (With Examples). Retrieved August 17, 2023, from Career Guide: https://www.indeed.com/career-advice/career-development/constructive-criticism

Naidoo D, Van Wyk J, Joubert RW. Exploring the occupational therapist’s role in primary health care: Listening to voices of stakeholders. Afr J Prm Health Care Fam Med. 2016;8(1), a1139.

[raichoose-moved]

oh are we talkin’ snake-related heartbreak

[vindicated-truth]

I've thought long and hard about this, and I want to be honest about my feelings without unnecessarily hurting anyone to whom Jeongje is a beloved character.

I'm writing this mostly for my own reflection, because Beyond Evil's exquisite writing and characterization truly does spark thoughts that make you reflect about the complexity of humanity in general in real life, with these characters who seem to be a reflection of real people in all its possible dimensions, from the beautiful to the brutal, from the angelic to the monstrous, and every grey area and shadow in between.

That being said, all these thoughts I now have about Jeongje, based on what we have now learned more about his character through this given background, I will be writing them all under a cut, to be safe.

So if Jeongje is beloved to you, I gently advise you to not read further, because I want to be honest about my thoughts without having to filter myself.

If you'd like to engage me in conversation about it, please do, I genuinely welcome it, even if we don't necessarily have the same point of view. But if you somehow already have an inkling that anything less than an ideal reading of Jeongje's character will hurt you, I gently ask to kindly refrain from reading anymore below this cut.

Reading Jeongje's character life, to put it in a word, felt disappointing.

I can't even be angry with him, mostly because I know and deeply understand that he's a victim himself. And I understand that when you're in survival mode from an abuser you constantly have to deal with—such as your mother, in Jeongje's case—your instinct is to withdraw into yourself to protect yourself from further abuse.

It's just disappointing to see the lengths Jeongje did it, because it crossed over to self-centeredness—which is not anymore that different from Han Kihwan.

The three things that stood out to me in this character background were:

1) The drugs were self-administered. His substance abuse began because he stole these from his father. No one forced him to take these drugs. And while it's also equally true that he began stealing these drugs because he felt oppressed by his mother, the important distinction to note here is that as abusive as his mother is, she never forced him to take these drugs. He took them himself. It was his own choice. Everything that happened that night was his own choice. He chose to take those drugs simultaneously with alcohol, and he chose to drive after Yuyeon himself in a state of drug and alcohol-induced inebriation because he chose to not stop her earlier when she left, alone and vulnerable, because he was the one who chose to call her out in the dark himself. All of it were his own actions and choices—entirely separate from his mother's abuse. His mother sending him off to a mental facility in secret was indeed his mother's choice, his mother's abuse. But his warped memories due to the combination of drugs and alcohol—that was due to his own choice. Not his mother's. Do Haewon's entire monstrosity encompasses covering up Jeongje's mistake. But Jeongje's mistake itself—that was completely his own doing.

2) Part of the reason he also chose to become a cop was similar to Dongsik's reason: so that people won't see him anymore as a possible murderer. Except the crucial difference is that Dongsik is truly, completely innocent. Jeongje somehow has always had an inkling of his involvement, but it was something he consciously refused to face, and choosing to become a cop is for a dual purpose: so that people will be more hesitant to dig into his involvement and history, and so that he can force himself to forget, because he doesn't want to remember.

3) Part of the reason why he testified as Dongsik's alibi the first time during the night of Yuyeon's death was to protect himself too. The alibi he provided Dongsik also very conveniently provided an alibi for himself. His motivation for stepping up too late as Dongsik's alibi is mostly to protect himself. His motivation to provide Dongsik's alibi the second time during the night of Minjeong's murder had self-centered motivations too: he knew that just like back then with Yuyeon, he was also the last person to be seen with Minjeong. Dongsik's alibi was Jeongje's alibi.

Having reflected upon all these, I've been trying to give Jeongje as much grace as I can, except in so many ways it feels unfair and wrong—precisely because of the existence of Dongsik and Joowon.

Because Dongsik and Joowon were victims too. And yet neither of them made the choices that Jeongje did. And giving Jeongje continuous unwarranted grace for choices he made himself completely disrespects the choices Dongsik and Joowon each made for themselves, too.

Dongsik was a victim of so many betrayals, from the system of law enforcement itself, to the people whom he actually loved and trusted. And yet despite these many forms of abuse and trauma, he still made the continuous, conscious choice to extend unbelievable kindness to people, from his chosen family in Manyang, to strangers like Shin Seokgu who was drenched in the rain, even to those whom he would've had an understandable reason to be monstrous to, like Han Kihwan.

He could've made selfish choices because of his pain, too. Yet he lived his whole life making sure that if it's within his power, no one else would have to endure the suffering and pain that he did.

And as for Joowon—he actually had the most similarity to Jeongje. He had an abusive parent, too. He suffered intense manipulation as well as mental and emotional abuse at the hands of his own father, too. And yet he did not use his parent's abuse as a reason for it be further perpetuated.

Rather, he chose to end it himself.

Because if there's one thing both Dongsik and Joowon had proven in different ways, it's that even victims still have a choice.

Victims still have a choice to not victimize others too. Victims still have a choice to not let anyone else be a victim again—precisely because they understand what it's like.

Victims still have a choice to end the cycle of abuse.

Victims still have a choice to not become perpetrators, themselves. Because they, of all people, should understand most deeply why no one else has to needlessly suffer the way they did.

Victimhood is what happens to you. It is out of your control. You are afforded that grace and understanding, and in many ways you are afforded that forgiveness.

But what you do because of it is already your own choice. You cannot anymore blame your abuser for this.

Just because you are abused, it doesn't give you the excuse to perpetuate further abuse yourself—because as a human being with your own conscience and freewill, you have the power and the choice to end the cycle.

And that is precisely what Dongsik and Joowon did.

Does that make them better men than Jeongje?

Yes. It absolutely does. And to not acknowledge that is to render meaningless all the sacrifices Dongsik and Joowon did.

To not acknowledge that is to render meaningless the goodness and the selflessness and the bravery of that choice.

Jeongje deserved better. That much is true.

But it is also equally true that the people who loved and believed in Jeongje deserved better.

The people of Manyang deserved better. Jihwa deserved better. Dongsik deserved better.

And more than anyone—Lee Yuyeon deserved so much better from Park Jeongje.

Jeongje became a victim because of his mother. That should be acknowledged.

But it also should be equally acknowledged: other people became a victim because of Jeongje.

Dongsik and Yuyeon, foremost of all.

The people who loved and trusted him the most.

Jeongje's turn! Enjoy!

[theonewiththefanfics]

Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd.        When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life.        They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene.        For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey.        Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him.        With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did.        “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face.        She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.”        Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well.        So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit.        “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.”        For that, she received a slap on her arm from him.        “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.”        That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

       “Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.”        With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise.        And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something.        But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had.        “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”        The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!��� while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms.        In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head.        She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have.        And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant.        Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all.        Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever.        He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her.        The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her.        Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her.        That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last.        He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him.        Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend?        Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’        Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others.        Bring Back Manly Men.        At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life.        “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.”        Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?”        “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.”        “Why?”        Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.”        “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?”        “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.”        He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen.        Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle.        Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had.        Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.”        At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!”        “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?”        “You’re a menace.”        Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.”        His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head.        For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?”        Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”        “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.”        She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!”        “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?”        “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.”        Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?”        “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?”        “Deal.”        “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“        But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call.        She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her.        When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox.        “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.”        He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.”        “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after.        “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.”        That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.”        “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.”        “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.”        The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’.        To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N.        The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck.        I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing.        Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”        He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.”        “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.”        But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything.        Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word.        He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on.        But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself.        Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone.        Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N        An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.”        That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?”        “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.”        “What? Why?”        “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.”        Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.”        “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip.        She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?”        “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood.        “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.”        Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.”        It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time.        Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.”        She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’        Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry.        Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings.        As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked.        “Have you even slept, Har?”        “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.”        Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.”        “I know, but I will.”        Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over.        She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head.        “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?”        But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around.        “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two.        Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?”        “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.”        Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?”        “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.”        Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her.        All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together.        Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course.        For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together.        As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot.        No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to.        A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing.        “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.”        She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest.        Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set.        This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’.        Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?”        “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?”        “I told you I would!”        She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.”        Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?”        “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.”        “That’s what friends do.”        “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?”        And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do.        The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest.        His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face.        She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.”        Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.”        “And you’re a living furnace.”        “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?”        The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.”        For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work.        “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.”        He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?”        “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.”        “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves.        “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.”        Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.”        “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?”        “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?”        She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?”        “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”        The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?”        “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.”        “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.”        Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back.        It was then or never.        Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart.        “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?”        “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.”        Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.”        “Oh.”        That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.”        At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session.        In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible.        As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers.        “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded.        “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.”        Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it.        “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.”        “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp.        “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.”        But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on.        The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her.        But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face.        “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”        “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.”        Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.”        And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment.        “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him.        “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.”        “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.”        “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.”        But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?”        “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…”        Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!”        And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes)  – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission. 

[azaleavi]

Best Friend

Requested by anon: hi could I request a sebastian x female reader where they have been best friends for years and reader has been in love with him for a while and it hurts her thag hes dating someone else and one day she just blurts it out because its too much??? angsty with a happy ending hopefully???

Word count: 1.8k

Author’s note: I got my first request!! I was so happy that I started writing right away. Thank you so much for requesting dear anon I hope you like it.

Feedback is always appreciated and don't forget to reblog and like if you liked it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

(the texts in italics are either throwbacks or thoughts)

Being the best friend of Sebastian was a challenge. It wouldn't have been, normally, but you had fallen in love with him and that made things a hundred times harder for you. But how could you not, when he was the most charming man you have ever met. He was the sweetest human being and he was always there for you when youu needed him. You met when you worked on a movie together and immediately hit it off. Thankfully there were more than one projects you worked on alongside each other so you became even closer. You thought there could be something more between you than friendship, but Sebastian never seemed to look at you like that. You got your hopes up multiple times, only to be let down again and again. So now you just learned to not expect any romantic feelings from him.

I want to tell you something the text read from Sebastian. You heart leaped in your chest at the thought of him wanting to talk to you about something seemigly important. It had to be important. Right? Maybe he would tell you, that he sees you as more than a friend. You texted him back saying that he could come over right now if he wanted to. He sent you a thumbs up, meaning he was on his way so you got to cleaning up your apartment. It wasn't necessarily messy, but there were a few things out you had to put away. Living in different cities or even countries all the time never left you with enough time to completely clean up the only place you called home. A knock on the front door shook you from your thoughts. You walked to it with a deep sigh, excited, but also afraid of what Seb wanted to talk to you about. Opening the door you met with his beautiful face.

"Hi" he smiled as you stepped aside to let him in.

"Hey. Come in." you greeted back. He walked in and took off his shoes as you closed the door. You walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. He fidgeted with his hands, a sign that he was nervous. "What is it Sebby?" him being nervous made you even more nervous so both of you were just a bundle of nerves.

"It's just... I just..." he sighed, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands. Something was wrong.

"Hey, you can talk to me" you reassured him, putting your hands on his back and rubbing it.

"I accidentally told Chris that you are a virgin" he finally blurted out. Your hand froze on his back. He looked back up at you, only to see you trying to hold back a laugh. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, confused.

"He already knows Seb." you let out the laugh you've been holding in. His face lit up in realization and he relaxed against the back of the couch. "This is what you wanted to tell me?" you continued to laugh.

It was after he left that you let yourself feel the sadness of not getting the confession you were waiting for.

You loved having him as a friend, but you wanted more. You wanted to be the one that wakes up next to him every day, who gets to kiss him every chance you get. You could dream about it how many times you wanted to, but it would never happen. Especially when he had a girlfriend. You remembered when he told you.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he grabbed your elbow as you were walking away from set, done for the day. You turned around, noticing how your face was closer to his than it probably should have been. He seemed to notice too as he stepped away from you. Your heart broke a little at his movement, but you knew that it wasn't his fault. He didn't feel the same as you did. You couldn't blame him, really. Why would he love you? There were so many better people out there whom he could choose. You understood, no one ever noticed you, so why would he be different. It was your fault for falling hopelessly in love with him. You tried to stop, you truly did, but it was no use. You couldn't tell him either, your friendship would be forever ruined. Of course he would be nice about it and say that he would want to keep being your friend, but you knew that it would never be the same.

"Yeah, sure we can talk" you smiled at him. The two of you walked to his dressing room, that was empty. You sat down on a hair as he did the same. "So?" you urged him to talk after a few second of silence.

"I met someone" your world stopped at his words. He looked up to see your reaction, but your face was blank. Your thoughts were a mess as you tried to come up with a response, trying to not show how your heart just broke into a million pieces.

"That's..." you cleared your throat, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears that started gathering in them. "That's amazing Seb." you froced a smile on your face, praying that he wouldn't see through your mask.

"She is actually working with us so I want you to meet her." he smiled, excited at the thought of his best friend and girlfriend meeting. You wish you could be happy for him, but right now you couldn't feel anything else but pain.

That was 8 months ago and they were happier than ever. Well... were before she decided to break up with him out of nowhere. He has been heartbroken for a long time, but he had you helping him through it. It was hard on you, but he was still your best friend and you knew you had to be there for him.

You were currently at his house, having a movie night. He was feeling much better now, your presence helping him through the worst of it. He was eternally grateful for you because of it. You were cuddling on his couch, becoming much closer in the last few weeks. You didn't use to do things like this, but when he started initiating the touches you didn't object. You thought it would be only for a little while, just because he needed someone to be close with after the breakup, but it didn't stop and your feeling were only getting stronger and stronger with each passing day. The movie was playing, a cliché romance, as he ran his fingers up and down your arm, your head on his shoulder. The man on TV was confessing his love for the woman and it made you think about what it would be like if you told Sebastian how you felt. He doesn't need a girlfriend right now you reminded yourself.

"This is so dumb" he rolled his eyes.

"What is?" you asked back, not understaning his problem.

"They were friends before this. Why ruin a perfectly good friendship with these feelings?" he felt your whole body stiffen at his words so he moved away to look at you. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing" you tried to brush it off and go back to cuddling, but he wasn't having it.

"No, something is wrong, I can feel it" he pushed.

"Seb, seriously, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"No, you have to tell me when something is wrong, we are best friends and I don't want you to keep secrets from me-"

"I love you" you blurted out, your mouth moving without thinking. No, no, no, no this cannot be happening right now. He immediately stopped talking and just stared at you, frozen. You stood up from you place and started walking back and forth in front of him." I know you don't need this right now and I didn't even want to tell you, but you just kept pushing and I-" stopping your rambling, your eyes filled with tears. You let out a stuttering breath, your hands on your mouth. I've just ruined everything. I'm so dumb. You looked at him, still sitting in the same place, his mouth open in shock. "Please say something." you pleaded moving your hands to your sides, not being able to take his silence anymore.

"You are in love with me?" he whispered, eyes boring into yours. Heart sinking in your chest you looked down.

"Yes" you sighed, feeling like a ton has been lifted from your chest, the truth you've been holding in had finally been revealed. Two legs appeared in front of you and two hands grabbed your arms. You didn't want to look up, already knowing the rejection, that was coming.

"Look at me y/n" he asked quietly. "Please" he said when you didn't oblige. You finally looked up at him at his request, face now soaked in tears.

"I'm sorry" you whimpered, your heart fully broken. You valued his friendship so much and you didn't want to lose him over this, but it felt like it was already over. He pulled you into a hug.

"Do not be sorry for your feelings" he tightened his grip on you, making your tears fall faster. You let out a sob at his affection. This might be the last time you get to hug him like this so you gripped his waist as strongly as you could. He pulled away enough to look into your eyes. "Don't be sorry because I feel the same way." your heart skipped a few beats, your eyes widening. You couldn't believe your ears so you just looked at him confused. Sebastian smiled at your cute impression and swiftly pressed his lips to yours. You couldn't even close your eyes considering how shocked you were. Sebastian realized you weren't moving and pulled away, worried. He called your name in question which shook you out of your frozen state.

"What did you say?" you finally spoke.

"I said I love you too." he laughed.

"But you... you were... you... what?" you stuttered, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you" he chanted as he pressed his forehead to yours, still laughing, which was cut short when you pressed your lips to his. You kissed for a minute, but you had to break away from the other for air.

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" you laughed, wiping away the remainer of your tears.

"I don't know" he leaned in to kiss you again, smiles on both of your faces.

Permanent taglist: @byatomoe

(let me know if you want to be added)

[galadrieljones]

Okay, I get it. But here's the thing:

I think the "friendship" mention is good. Because they *were* friends. We have no real indication otherwise, as they are *unfinished.* Further, a lot of c*rylers claim Bethyl is a "sibling" or "father/daughter" relationship, and that this is proof they could never be romantic. Asserting their "friendship" dispels that narrative. We want them to have been friends. Any romance between them, should Beth return, will need to blossom anew anyway.

The timing is also suspicious, as we already know that Daryl will mention Beth's name at the end of the season (more on this ahead), and we know that Daryl and Beth had many important experiences together, and we know that Daryl will be facing his pasts this season. I would also argue that this edit isn't actually for Beth, but for Daryl, as a promotional feature for the show. It's just that they're using Beth's speech to show Daryl's insecurities and his devastation over all the people he's lost. Beth is the backdrop, but Daryl is the subject.

They also include the part of her speech where she says "I'm not Carol. I'm not Maggie. I'm not Michonne, but I made it." As they do this, they show shots of Michonne, Carol, and Maggie, all of whom are definitively alive. The logical answer to that is, well, no, she didn't make it, actually. But it reminds us: Why would they make such a big deal out of Beth surviving the prison battle if they were just going to kill her off half a season later? They wouldn't. Her longterm survival was always intended, it was just on hold for many many years.

The truly important thing here, however, in the end, is that they're mentioning Beth and juxtaposing her with Daryl, reviewing two of the most important moments in Daryl's life: his time with Beth at the moonshine shack, where they fight, and she gives him key advice he'll never forget, and of course, Beth's death. They're doing this not to really even send any messages about bethyl. The point isn't to ship them. It's simply to remind the GA that she existed, that she was important to Daryl, that they were friends (not family) and to get them thinking about her again.

Why would they do this? Because it's been 10 years, and because Beth is going to be important in season 2 of Daryl Dixon, which starts in a month, and they want to make sure people remember everything they went through. If you look at the comments on twitter, it's mostly people talking about how they miss Daryl and Beth, how Beth's life ended too soon, how this is devastating to remember, etc. THAT'S the point. As bethylers, and especially TDers, we're well aware of all this stuff. We don't need to be reminded of how important Beth was to Daryl, so I'd say we're not even really the audience here. The GA is. Also, to some extend, the c*rylers, because we know that they would prefer to memory-hole Beth. They want to believe that Carol is the only important relationship in Daryl's life. This bombards them with a difficult truth, which is probably necessary to temper their hopes going forward.

This also comes just a couple weeks after a mysterious "leak" of one tiny portion of the script for 2.6. This teeny tiny portion of the script just so *happens* to mention Beth's name. Coincidence? Yeah right. Daryl hasn't said Beth's name since season 5. That leak was almost certainly purposeful. Just enough to defuse concerns about Daryl/Isabelle, and just enough to give us Beth's name (among others), reminding us that Beth was important to Daryl, just as important as Glenn or Merle, and also implying that Daryl will, at some point this season, talk about Beth to Isabelle. If he's saying "Say hi to Beth for me" to Isabelle-the-vision, that means that Isabelle knows who Beth is. He's told her.

So I would say this is actually huge. We can't expect them to even soft ship bethyl when the Caryl-Friendship campaign is in full swing, and it's important that they directly promote Carol's character and HER role in Daryl's life right now, because this season really does belong to her, after all. All of this other stuff is just little stuff, which is all the more reason it seems suspicious. I'm not saying they won't do this over the next few weeks, but where are the edits for Daryl and Glenn? Daryl and Merle? I haven't seen anything like that in a while.

Nobody actually knows what's coming. Nobody but us even has any sort of inkling that they might bring Beth back. So this kind of low level "Beth" campaign, like mentioning Beth in polls about which characters we'd most like to see resurrected, having Emily go to several European cons, her talking about how they should totally bring Beth back, Emily recording songs from the show and engaging her TWD fans specifically, these are all just little ways to remind the GA and also Emily's fanbase (which is not negligible) that Beth existed, and that Beth was important to Daryl, and that now, Daryl is about to come face to face with some of the most heartbreaking moments from his past.

I hope this helps!! Of course we know nothing, but I see this as a very positive thing for us.

So uh, hey TD and bethyl friends: the TWD Skybound official account just posted this edit...

?????????

[childofchrist1983]

But what went ye out for to see? A prophet? yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet. For this is he, of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist: notwithstanding he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. - Matthew 11:9-11 KJV

In this Bible passage, Jesus Christ says very clearly who John the Baptist is, what his mission was and his importance as the "greatest born of a woman." But He also says that the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he. Who is the greatest?

Lots of people claim that title: The greatest boxer, the greatest actor, the greatest magician, the greatest athlete, the greatest – whatever is a title fought over. Even the Apostles tried to juggle for position with Jesus Christ. If we want to be the greatest, Jesus tells us we need to be the least. The greatest is the one who serves the others.

John the Baptist never claimed greatness for himself. He made a point of saying that he wasn't even worthy of tying the sandals on the feet of Jesus. There are people who truly are great, and history will tell us if they are or were the greatest. But these are not usually people who claimed greatness; they are usually people who used their God-given talents to the best of their ability. John was humble; he did what he was called to do, prepare the way for Jesus.

Humility is an interesting virtue. It comes from the Latin word for Earth – Humus – and refers to being grounded. The humble person knows that he or she is gifted and nurtures those gifts so that they might grow and then uses those gifts for the benefit of others. The humble person doesn't take credit for the gift, rather accepts that it is a gift from God and gives God the glory. Pride is the vice that takes credit for the gift.

Jesus Christ did not come as a prince, or a king being born in a palace. He came as a baby of humble origin. He wanted us to know that He was one of us, so that we could know and relate to Him better. May we all use our gifts to the best of our ability and always remember to thank the giver for the gift. May we thank God for all He has done for us and for giving the example of John the Baptist for showing what true greatness is. May He help us to have the humility of John and to use the God-given gifts we have for the good of God, His Kingdom of Heaven and for the good of others.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time daily to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

[noaltbruh]

I hope this follows the rules! But is it okay if I request a scenario where Giorno has a nightmare of turning into Diavolo and S/O comforts him when he wakes up?

My first request in so long, what an honor!

You're surely a fan of this scenario, I've seen you requesting it quite a lot of times.

Either way, let's get into it!

Esci dalla mia testa

06/04/2004

Midnight had just struck, it had already been three years.

Three years since Giovanna had become the new Don of Passione, and since the former had been punished for his actions.

But in reality, time had lost meaning to the young boy years ago. Everything he did, it felt so...Mechanic, so frivolous, simply keeping track of the days in order not to forget an important reunion.

He buried himself under thousands of piles of work, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every day that passed. This was supposed to be his dream, his greatest goal, and he had reached it at such a young age.

But then...Why did he feel so empty?

He was supposed to be happy, after all the sacrifices that had been made to arrive so far, he had to be grateful for everything that's been given to him.

But he couldn't be, because those sacrifices were not his own, because innocent lives had been taken away, because he had come.

He truly was no different than the man whom he had condemned to suffer for all eternity. But he had to clinch his teeth, and keep on going with his head high, for the few people that were still by his side. Most importantly, for his partner.

As everyone around him had found a significant other, pressured by his best friend, he had decided to reluctantly indulge in this so called 'romance'.

And when you two finally met, he felt like a tiny fickle of faith had risen inside of his heart again.

You listened to him, to his struggles, to his doubts, to each one of his complaints like the were the only worries in the world. He failed to express how much you meant to him, after those...'Accidents', he had become even more close-up about his feelings.

You were very well aware of his workaholic tendencies, as most nights, you were the one to ask him to put down all the documents and get some rest

And this...Was one of those.

As you rapidly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from your own day, you felt a soft hand gently caressing your forehead. You were so warm and comforting, like a puppy, the only one able to give him hope in this twisted world.

But sadly, your presence could not magically make all his guilt and insecurities go away, and he had accepted that.

After contemplating your dreaming figure for a minute, he slowly closed his eyes, wishing to escape, just for a short while, from all those crushing responsibilities and expectations.

His consciousness started to slip away, he felt ready to conclude another day. Until, he heard whispering. Weak, confused, peculiar sounds, he could not understand a word of what those voices were trying to tell him, they were too far from the boy.

But they wouldn't stop. Delicate, constant and unbearable like the sound of a drip of water falling into a sink. They were playing with the Don's patience, a sleeping lion that should not disturbed, unless you wanted to be torn to pieces.

His mind immediately connected the situation to a possible Stand attack, nothing out of his normality, per se, but he was not concerned for himself. You were still peacefully resting, clinging to your sheets, it was a quite cold night. He wouldn't have let a single soul cause any harm to his darling, she was his only true happiness, his sunshine.

In the moment he stepped outside of the bedroom, what he was faced with sent a frozen shiver down his spine, as he brought his hand to his chest, to control his heartbeat.

There were four doors, floating in absolute darkness. A weak stream of light, that seemed to be originated from nothingness, illuminated each one of them singularly.

The whispering got louder and louder, faint giggles could occasionally be heard. The young one turned around to look at the entrance of this cursed place, the one he had just walked through.

But there was nothing there.

And so, like a captured prey that had nothing left to lose, he ventured himself into the first door, only to be met with a monochromatic version of Fugo. He was breathing heavily, desperately sobbing and all curled up on himself, on the shore of the same place where the rest of the gang had decided to betray Passione.

Giorno was standing on top of the water, unable to move a single inch of his body.

"Look at what you did"

A deep voice murmured in his ear. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one he wished he could have erased from his memories, that infected his mind and was more deadly than the sobbing boy's stand.

Diavolo.

"Me? Fugo chose not to leave, it was his own fault if-"

"If he was abandoned by everyone he loved? Do you have any idea of how selfish it sounds?"

The boy hesitated for a brief moment, staring at those warm tears falling into the canal.

"It was just...A temporary matter, he rejoined Passione, he's doing better now"

"My, it must have surely been fun to prove your loyalty to someone who caused the death of half of the people you cared about, after refusing to participate in his little suicide mission"

The blond's legs started to tremble, mantainig his composure was starting to look impossible.

"They...They didn't die because of me, they sacrificed themselves for a noble cause, for making Italy a better place, they wished it as much as I did"

The man contained his laughter, then he continued.

"Is that so? Why don't say that in their faces then?"

The image of the lonely boy disappeared, together with everything in the room. Giorno was back to that black space, but the door was now missing.

And the next one...Had nothing better reserved for him.

He found himself in the island of Sardegna, the only sound that could be heard were the small waves that met with the coast.

He knew perfectly why he was here. He took a closer look at the seaside, there were some footsteps printed on it. He felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of where they would have brought him.

Abbacchio's lifeless body was laying on top of a rock, surrounded by dead flowers. His entire torso had been torn apart, and yet... His corpse was smiling. A tiny, melancholic smile on his purple lips.

"Do you still have the courage to repeat what you said?"

Diavolo began, in a mocking tone.

"When he became part of the Organization, he was at his lowest, he had nowhere else to go, every path he took brought him nothing but sorrow and disappointment. The only thing that gave him comfort was following Bucciarati...And so, with that excuse, I transformed him in one of minions"

The thought of calling out Gold Experience hit Giorno's mind, but he knew that there was no point of lying to himself. The albino was gone, his soul had left his body long ago.

"I don't need you to tell me just how disgusting you are"

He said, his voice was filled with a suffocated rage, as he knelt over to look closer at his former companion.

"Abbacchio couldn't have cared less about killing me, he came with you because Bucciarati did, because he so desperately wanted to follow him, he felt like scum at the thought of no longer having him in his life"

The boy with emerald eyes felt an hand touching him on his shoulder, but there was no one there, except for himself.

"You exploited his dependence from the man, and used at your advantage, just as I did"

He stopped for a brief moment, enjoying the desperation in the other's eyes.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance

And with that, the second room disappeared as well. The boy contemplated whether to remain in that hellish void or to move forward, the image of what was waiting on the other side hurt way too much, his juvenile soul was starting to crush.

But he couldn't remain there, it would have meant giving up to Diavolo's twisted games, seeing him break down was exactly what he was waiting for.

He turned the doorknob, when he felt something humid staining his clothes: there was fresh blood streaming from his lady bug pins. The trail that it formed on the ground invited him to follow its path. He knew he couldn't decline, none of what he wanted seemed to matter in this place.

A metallic railing stood in front of him, his entire pins bled so much to the point of consuming themselves. An horrific scream coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time echoed through the room, as he directed his gaze to the top of the grey construction.

"What a shame...Oh well, he was the most disposable member of the team anyway"

Narancia's corpse was resting among dozens of spikes, his faded orange bandage slipped from his dark hair, landing right next to Giorno's feet.

"Oh Narancia...So young, so naive, just another victim of this unfair world. That's what you're thinking, isn't that right, Giovanna?"

"This is why people like him should not be involved in this business..."

"Mh? And why is that? Childish minds are the easiest to manipulate"

Ignoring his last statement, the other leaned down to pick up the bandage, but his hand went through it. His body was starting to feel dizzy, like it belonged to somebody else.

"Not answering won't make me go away, the damage has already been done, after all"

"Narancia should have NEVER joined Passione in the first place. He could have gone to school...Have a normal life, but-"

"But he died for your cause before he could. What he said before I activated King Crimson melted my heart a little, how cute...He really trusted you that much to the point of thinking that he would have come out of it alive"

The railing emanated a cracking sound. For a second, he was afraid it would have fallen off, causing him to get impaled as well.

"I took away his chance of living an happy, standard life when he decided to work for me, and you did the same, allowing him to come along with the rest of your team"

The small boy suddenly faded away, together with the rest.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance"

At last, there it was: only one room left. Despite how deeply he cared about each one of his former team members, the premonition of what would have come next was more painful than everything he's seen so far altogether.

He sat down, staring at the door from a distance, his eyes emptier than the ones of his old allies. They say that eyes are the window of the soul, and nothing else could have been used to describe his inner turmoil. Nothing but a faded, dull green, testimony of all his battle scars and the survivor guilt that he tried so much to repress.

Perhaps his eternal punishment had arrived: having the chance to confront his inner demons, to move on, to show how fearless he was.

...But never truly grasping the idea of freedom, never facing and accepting what really happened, he was never given the time to. So much had oppressed him all at once, he couldn't keep up with it.

He was a child, a child that had to grow too fast.

But then, someone came out of the door. A bittersweet figment of his imagination, that made his heart stop beating for a second.

The one he hadn't seen in years, the one he had tried to subdue the most, the one that showed him for the first time in his life what love was, stood in front of him. There was no hole in his chest, no sign of blood or wounds, a reassuring smile accompanied his face, as he held out his hand to the grieving kid.

"What are you doing all alone in here? The others are worried for you. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"

Giorno ignored his help, his gaze was stuck on that endless floor. He didn't have the courage to look at the other, his presence alone felt like a sadistic joke.

He didn't look sad, depressed, miserable... He was just...Tired.

He wanted to cry those tears that he had denied in the last three years, he wanted to yell at that illusion to leave him alone, that wasn't the real Bruno, it couldn't be.

But, as he impeded any of this from coming out, something he didn't think he would have felt in a thousand of years struck him.

Bucciarati hugged him.

A tight, comforting hug like one of a mother, that he was waiting for his child to reciprocate. The latter's breathing became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed, as weak laments rapidly turned into audible sobs.

"There's no reason to be sad now, I'm real, you can feel it, can't you?"

"Y-You...You're here...But h-how is it p-possible?"

The brunette chuckled, the sound of his laughter was more comforting than an angel's voice.

"It isn't"

Giovanna's stand penetrated the man's torso, but its arm...It was not Gold Experience's. It had a checkered red and white pattern that extended in its entirety, and it possessed an amount of physical strength which was out of any possible expectations for the creature able to give life.

"Foolish child, I thought you were better than this, I'd lie if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed"

The sound of Bruno's corpse falling to the ground resonated through that empty space, as the last door vanished. A puddle of blood originated from his horrible injury, it was big enough for the boy to see his reflection in.

"You are no better than me under any point of view. We took advantage of his kindness, we used him as a simple pawn for our own gain. The only difference between us, is that I was not manipulating enough to convince him to join my side voluntarily. He was a tool to the both of us, but you were the one who caused his demise"

The mirror that had been created showed two people, but the transparent figure of Diavolo immediately ceased to be visible. The only one left was Giorno, though his reflection seemed to mutate with every second that passed.

His blond curls started to change shape, turning into a fuchsia mess, with dirty green stains on it. His eyes had a killer, maniacal look inside of them, his pupils got smaller in horror. His entire body structure was different. He looked older, more muscular, his clothes, too, were no longer his own.

"Mista loved him, and you killed him"

"Fugo loved him, and you killed him"

"Trish loved him, and you killed him"

"Narancia loved him, and you killed him"

"Abbacchio loved him, and you killed him"

"You loved him, and you killed him"

...

"Giorno? Giorno please, wake up!"

You screamed, your sleep was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend hyperventilating, as he desperately held you to himself, still trapped in that horrible dream.

You sighed in relief when he abruptly opened his eyes, so swollen and red from all the tears he's shed.

"Another nightmare, uh?"

You asked, gently caressing his back to try and calm him down, he was as vulnerable as a baby that runs to his parents after having a bad dream. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him is something you had grown accustomed to, but you had never seen him this shaken up.

He slightly nodded in response, grabbing the top of your pajamas. You put an hand behind his head, making him rest on your chest, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

You could hear him murmuring something, you couldn't tell wherever he was talking to you, or to himself.

"I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."

He repeated like a broken record, you could barely make out what he was trying to say.

"Tesoro, you've done nothing wrong, there's no one you owe your apologizes to"

The boy raised his head slightly, intertwining your fingers with his, he needed to feel sure that this was not another tremendous trick of his mind.

"See? I'm here, you don't have to be afraid. I know that you feel unworthy of my feelings, but there is no one out there that deserves love more than you do. Nobody is perfect, Giorno, you did everything that was in your power to help them"

"But I...I was the one w-who put them in danger in the first place"

"No, you were not. You all shared the same ideals, you saved them from the oppression they were put in"

As you swept those remaining drops away from his face, you could still feel his entire body shaking like a dried leaf in a windy day of autumn.

"N-None of this would have happened if I didn't come along..."

"Exactly, none of them would have known what it meant to be free. I...Understand that the sacrifices that were made are not easy to forget, but blaming yourself like this...Do you really think that's what they would have wanted?"

Not receiving an answer, you laid down once again, still holding him in your arms. You forced a tiny smile, kissing him delicately on his lips, and whispered in his ear that everything would have been okay.

But, in reality...You felt you were trying to reassure yourself as well. This was not something you could have solely resolved through staying by his side, healing from this would have taken a lot of time, but...At least, you could offer some temporary safety, and it seemed to be enough for the time being.

In fact, after some minutes, everything seemed to cease. The boy fell asleep once again, this time with the knowledge that you were there to protect him.

You sighed, praying for your darling to finally find some peace.