#but i thought it was too much of a spoiler

[blurd-blue]

⚠️! Major Sonic Movie 3 Spoilers Ahead !⚠️

MY BABY BOY!!!!

And Amy too!

All jokes aside, I just got finished watching Sonic 3, and here's my honest review.

I loved this movie, It was an all around fun time with Amazing action scenes, Gorgeous visuals, and an unsurprisingly compelling story.

Shadow was of course a huge highlight of this film for me, And Keanu did just as amazingly as I expected him to. What I didn't expect was Jim Carry to surprise me as much as he did, Gerald was a surprisingly Compelling villain, It was Lowkey menacing at times, and really felt like a threat, Though when he wasn't doing that he was being Jim Carry and that kind of Bumped down his intimidation factor, though not by much.

I had to stop myself from jumping out of my seat every time Live and Learn played, even though I knew I'd be in the movie it still Delighted me every time it showed up.

As everyone hoped, the human characters were kept to a minimum and I feel the time they were on screen was used well, And they honestly got me with Tom's injury, I really thought they'd kill him off for a minute.

I was not expecting how much They'd use the super forms, as they were in them for pretty much the whole third act. Sonic and Shadow's fight was Honestly stunning, but also a bit haunting seeing Sonic essentially go full Fleetway on Shadow during it.

They killed off the Olive Garden guy, that honestly made me a little sad.

And as made clear before, I was overjoyed to see my darling baby boy Metal Sonic—and Amy—at the end, and I can't wait to see what they do in the fourth movie. They can either go with a Plot inspired by Sonic CD or by the looks of the Post credits scene, Sonic Heroes. Though likely they'll do a mix of both.

All in all, I loved the movie, and will be watching it 5011,000 more times.

Also that Scene of Sonic and Shadow on the moon watching the Sunrise was Gay as Shit!

[cj-the-random-artist]

Ok bringing this post back with an addition of some winter clothes references except they're also going under the cut cuz there's a little extra bit for what I intend to be my next comic (tho depending on how it goes I might just post a written version of it idk) and that little extra bit is. Idk if it's like. Spoilers for my own AU? But if y'all don't wanna be... spoiled for the next AU comic that I theoretically intend to make... I guess... then there's a spoiler wall here for ya but for anyone who doesn't care about spoilers and wants to see my Narilamb in winter clothes along with read some rambles about the next comic I intend to make here ya go:

Next comic rambles. I spent like forever and a half after the making of this comic here (the proposal one) thinking about like. What exactly I would want them to do about an actual like. Marriage of sorts?? And after months and months I concluded that eventually they would come to an agreement of doing like a platonic semi-marriage that like kind of resembles the rituals of a traditional marriage but is also done slightly differently?? They have rings (which are worn on their middle fingers. Or in Lambert's case their index finger lol) and they made vows to each other and it's recognized by like the laws of the cult as a legal union to where Narinder gets his tax exemption, but it's like. Very much not set up as a traditional marriage beyond that (ya know cuz they're both. Aromantic and such). But like they don’t move in together or partake in certain marriage related rituals and stuff like that. But anyways. I have decided on how they get not-technically-married and what leads up to it it's just a matter of. Ya know. Turning the four page script into a comic at some point. But these winter clothes designs are too good to go unposted, along with my ramble about my Narilamb getting not-married in this silly little QPR AU.

Anyways. Clothes thoughts. Lambert does wear an actual shirt in the winter when it gets cold enough, despite the fact that they wander around shirtless for most of the year. I also gave them longer pants for the weather, but they wear the same fleece. Narinder, I think, runs cold, so he gets a thick cozy shirt and also some slightly longer pants, and a cloak for the cooler weather. I also wanted his winter clothes to look a little less like structured fabrics and more like softer material cuz I feel like he'd like that in the winter.

But anyways. Have a good one lovelies and enjoy these silly doodles :D

Be it as it may that I've spent the last few weeks very very very much itching to make comics but. Alas. I am. Under the weather, to put it lightly and I have been for a while so. I attempted to scratch the comics itch by making actual references for the (yet unnamed) silly au versions of Narinder and Lambert so that when I do return to making comics I have good references for them (I should probably make some for like the Bishops and like some other canon characters and maybe some followers but I'll do it later it's fine)

Gonna add a read more with their individual refs with some of the layers of these outfits and some bonus notes. I would've done more stuff for these but it's fine it's a future me task-

Pls enjoy these, have a good one y'all :D

[bdafic]

Insights on Elven

While stuck in bed being ill I went completely off the deep end while trying to understand the use of letter-doubling in Elven (spoiler: I think it's a feature of fusional language). I ended up spending two days collecting canon phrases with official translations, retranslating it myself, and then applying each bit of knowledge to the formation of other words and phrases... and I think I've stumbled into a few insights.

First off, the word "vallaslin". We know this means 'blood writing', and we've always assumed the 'lin' is 'blood' and 'vallas' is 'writing' -- and up until two days ago I thought this too. But the more examples I dug up the more I think it's actually 'val' that means blood as a root -- though not necessarily in terms of violence. I believe it originally referred to mortality. We already have use cases of "vallas" meaning "life" in canon (Vallasdahlen: "life trees"), but I think the most damning evidence comes in Veilguard, where an Elven Rook will comment that the word Anvallenim means "womb".

an (place/location) + val (mortal/physical life) + len (people, n.) + im (him, become) = where mortal life becomes.

I think the real root of the word vallaslin is exactly what Solas says it is: a chattel brand. val (blood/physical) +las (have) lin (person).

Second insight was the word 'lath': it's used to refer specifically to a person in physical form. Over time, it expanded to encompass feelings that involve the physical form (eg. love and sex). The World of Thedas vol 1 actually lists two definitions for it, and that first one was really pulling at me when I read it:

Some of Solas' banter with Cole may even confirm this: "Have you felt no interest in women since you came through the Veil?". Spirits are singular in purpose and don't reproduce -- they probably do not fall in love, need, or have sex.

Leaning into this assumption, I found that the presumed translation of 'ath' by the illustrious fenxshiral ('taking the characteristics of' or 'embodiment of') not only works, but actually helps clarify a number of other words. Like, 'athim' for humility. ath (relating to physical/human) + him (become). With so much commentary about the limitations (and consequences) of physical form, and the constant struggle to become better and more powerful in it, the origins of the word would seem to reflect the views of the culture it emerged from.

I think the "L" in "lath" is borrowed (or implied) from the words for 'people' (as in group, not capital-P-People, which is 'vhen' or 'Elvhen'), depending on use). This would make "lath" very literally "love of being".

Along this same path, we know 'eth' is canonically used for "safe". I think it can also mean 'trust'. This would make "lethallin" translate more literally to 'trusted person': friend or kin.

This would also clear up a currently-untranslated word spoken by Solas' spirit sentinels in Trespasser. When you approach, you're greeted with, "Atish'all vallem, Fen'Harel elathadra."

The only other time we see the "adra" at the end of a word is when you're greeted by Study in the Vir Dirthara. They'll greet Sera, or an elf Inq, as "honoured elvhen", or, "mirthadra elvhen". Mir has been used as a root in words about rebellion, fighting, or weapons -- and that tracks, given that the first thing everybody did upon getting bodies was start a war. If the "th" is coming from my interpretation of "lath/leth", that would make the "adra" apply a concept to an individual.

Honour + physical being + applying base term to that being: honoured.

Spirits embody a singular idea or feeling - they're only ever spoken of in that way. Once they began taking form, they'd need an entirely new vocabulary around the existence of a spirit who is not a spirit -- especially when referencing a feeling/state/idea as a personality trait rather than their whole existence.

So, that spirit guardian isn't saying "peaceful welcome". It's saying, "(come) in peace, those-who-became-physical". That untranslated word, "Elathadra" would be something like, "those loyal/close to the Dread Wolf".

"Peaceful greetings mortals; loyal of Fen'Harel".

[fanfoolishness]

Oh, well of course 47, for you know who!!

This went in all sorts of wild directions for the prompt a kiss out of spite! It’s set a few years after Veilguard, so full spoilers for the game; by this time, Liesl and Lucanis have married. Rook x Lucanis, platonic Rook & Spite.

—

Liesl yawned, rubbing one hand over her face, squinting at a familiar lilac glow in the dark of their bedroom. She reached out, brushing one hand over Lucanis’ chest. It rose and fell in a soft rhythm, but one a little sharper than his usual. “Spite. Are you letting him sleep?”

Spite sat up, his violet eyes bright and agitated, Lucanis’ lips curling into an expression of confusion. “He is resting, but he isn’t. Restless, roaming, rumination. It’s unsettling!” Spite twisted Lucanis’ hands into the blankets. “Like early days. When we were trapped!”

It had been a long time since then. Over the years Lucanis and Spite had both grown tremendously, to the point that sometimes Spite answered to the name Determination once again. She hadn’t seen him quite like this in a long time.

”Caterina is ill,” Liesl explained. She smiled ruefully. “It’s… difficult for him. He loves her. He’s afraid to lose her. But I think he’s relieved, too. Their relationship is very complicated.”

”She ties him in knots!” Spite hissed. “Knots and locks, buried deep where he can’t undo them.”

Locks? She didn’t like the sound of that. “He’s not back in the Ossuary, is he?”

“No, not there. Never there. Rook opened the doors.” There was a hint of pride in Spite’s voice.

“Good,” she said, taking a deep breath. She rested a hand on Lucanis’ shoulder. Spite leaned in, and she brushed his cheek fondly. “It will be hard on him if this is really her time. It may be very difficult for you. Grief is… we mortals have such a hard time, even when we think we’ve prepared. I can’t imagine it’s pleasant for a spirit—“ She caught the cautionary shift in his expression. “—or a demon, to experience.”

“Like Harding,” Spite said, eyes narrowing. “Like when he thought he lost you.”

“Yes. Like that,” Liesl said, blinking back a sudden wave of sadness, remembering warm laughter, Fade-butterflies, an enchanted arrow never used.

“Smells like regrets and… crystal grace.”

She smiled with stinging eyes, recalling Harding’s pride when the fickle herb had finally sprouted. “You remember.”

”Remember many things. Everything. I grow.” Spite glared at Lucanis’ hands. “Won’t let Lucanis be trapped again. Want him better. Make him better!”

”I know you’re worried about him, Spite,” Liesl said gently. “But you and I can’t force him to feel better. He has to work this out on his own. Remember, he had to choose to leave the Ossuary. We can help, but we can’t force.”

Spite let out a frustrated snarl. “It’s vexing!”

“That’s us mortals all over.”

“I know,” Spite groused, but he seemed mollified, his violet eyes flickering with Lucanis’ brown. He glanced back at her. “Thank you, Rook.”

She reached up, placing a hand behind Lucanis’ neck, and bowed his head toward her. She pressed a kiss against his forehead, closing her eyes. “I’ll let him know you want to help, Spite.”

A long pause. A quiet voice, almost Lucanis again. “Determination,” it whispered, and then Lucanis raised his head, blinking, dark brown eyes faintly confused.

“I thought I heard you talking,” he said. “Was it —“

“Spite and I had a good talk,” Liesl said, smoothing a few loose hairs back behind his ear. “Actually — by the end, he preferred Determination again.”

Lucanis blinked, looking impressed. “You are a good influence on him. And on me, though that goes without saying.”

She giggled, then pulled him into her arms. “What can I say? I’m charming.” She let out a long, contented breath. “He’s worried about you. About Caterina. And he wants to help you.”

“Oh,” he said darkly. “I was trying not to think about it. I guess I couldn’t hide it, not from him. Or you.”

“No, not really.”

He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “I thought it was too much before. When we thought the Venatori had killed her. But this — this fading — I don’t know how to deal with this, Rook.”

“You don’t have to have the answers now. It’s going to be hard.” She wished it wasn’t so, but that was life, wasn’t it? That was death? She knew that better than anyone. “But I’ll help you, Lucanis. We both will.”

“My wife, tamer of demons,” he said, chuckling slightly. “You’ve soothed Spite, and you’ve captured my heart… you are unstoppable, you know that?” He kissed her, softly at first, then insistently. His mouth slanted over hers as he ran one hand through her hair, the other sliding long, slow strokes over her naked back.

“Mm,” she breathed, her pulse quickening. “Feel free to keep telling me how impressive I am. I don’t mind, truly.”

“Oh, I am only just beginning,” he promised, one he kept with languid kisses, low murmurs, the trail of his fingers over her skin, urgent moans in her ear, the way he moved within her. And he kept it afterward, holding her close against his chest so she could hear the beat of his heart, sending her off to sleep. She slept long into the morning, her Fade-wanderings safe. Sure.

Determined.

[shiftthemoon]

reality shifting isn’t hard. you’ve been told it’s hard because everyone’s too scared to admit it’s not. they cling to their 800-step methods, their must-have crystals, their perfect conditions because they think that if they let go of that control, they’ll fail. but here’s the thing: the more you try to control the process, the more you convince yourself it’s out of your control. and that’s the problem. that’s why so many people feel stuck. shifting isn’t some big, far-fetched thing. it’s just you. it’s always been you.

we’re conditioned to think we’re powerless. think about it—school, work, society, all of it drills this idea into us that everything has to be proven, earned, validated. so, when you hear about shifting, your brain freaks out and says, wait, wait, this is too easy, this can’t be real. and then you spiral. you overcomplicate it. you make yourself think you need the “perfect” script, the “right” subliminal, or that you have to meditate for three hours while the stars align perfectly. like, no… you don’t. all of that? it’s fluff. it’s noise.

at its core, shifting is belief. just belief. no, really, let that sink in. you don’t need to “do” belief perfectly. it’s not something you master through sheer willpower. it’s something you already have. you’ve believed in things your whole life. you believed in gravity without needing proof. you believe your favorite songs are beautiful without needing to explain why. belief is natural. it’s effortless when you stop overthinking it. that’s the energy you need to bring to shifting—trust. trust that your mind knows what it’s doing, and that if you let it, it will take you there. every single extra thing you pile on? the overthinking, the doubt, the need for guarantees? that’s what’s slowing you down. not the “lack of progress,” not some mythical “block”—it’s you convincing yourself it’s harder than it is.

and let’s talk about social media for a second. oh my god, the shifting community on social media… i get it. it’s comforting to see other people on this journey. but let’s be honest—how much of that content is actually helping you? like, really? 90% of the time, scrolling through shifting advice isn’t inspiring; it’s overwhelming. everyone’s got their own opinions, their own “best methods,” their own rules. one person says scripting is a must, another says it’s a waste of time. one person swears by affirmations, another says visualization is the only way. and before you know it, you’re sitting there questioning everything you thought you knew, wondering if you’ll ever get it “right.” spoiler alert: you already know how to shift. you don’t need a thousand voices telling you what to do. in fact, the more you listen to them, the harder it becomes to hear yourself.

take a break. seriously. log off the apps. give yourself space to breathe and think. ask yourself: why do i want to shift? what’s stopping me? what feels right to me? no tiktok trend, youtube guide, or reddit post can answer those questions for you. only you can. and i know that sounds scary. we’ve been conditioned to think we need external validation for everything, but shifting is a deeply personal thing. you don’t need a step-by-step tutorial. you need to trust your instincts. that’s it.

and let me be clear: i’m not saying methods or subliminals are bad. they’re fine if they help you feel aligned. but they’re not what makes shifting happen. you are. methods are just tools. if you use them, great. if you don’t, that’s great too. because the truth is, shifting isn’t about doing things “right.” it’s about letting go of the idea that you need to.

so let me break it down for you. the only things you really need to shift are:

1. a desire. you have to want to go to your desired reality. no brainer, right?

2. belief. this is the big one. you have to trust it’s possible. no “what ifs,” no “but hows.” just trust.

3. persistence. if it doesn’t happen right away, that’s okay. don’t give up. if you’ve ever learned to ride a bike, you know that falling doesn’t mean you can’t do it—it just means you’re learning. shifting is the same.

that’s it. no fancy rituals, no endless research, no “perfect” conditions. the process is simple because it’s natural. you’ve probably done it before without even realizing it— the only reason it feels hard now is because you’ve convinced yourself it has to be.

stop making it harder than it needs to be. shifting isn’t this unattainable, mystical thing reserved for “chosen ones.” it’s something anyone can do. you can do it. your mom can do it. that anti-shifter lurking in every crevice of shiftblr could do it. you’ve always been capable. but you have to stop getting in your own way. stop doubting yourself. stop relying on others to tell you what’s possible. this is your journey. own it.

and above all, be patient. shifting is not a race. it’s not about how fast you can get there or how perfect your dr is. it’s about trust, intention, and focus. log off, tune into yourself, and let it happen. shifting has always been yours to claim. it’s not something you need permission for. it’s not something you need to earn. it’s just you, your mind, and your belief. always has been, always will be.

[wings-of-ink]

Alright, everyone!

HERE ARE THE ASKS YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

Below the cut are the asks and my answers/responses. I do apologize for not answering these individually, but some of them contain spoilers for chapter 5 content. Given the developments and reveals of the chapter, I want to let things simmer a bit before I pop off responses like normal.

If my Nonies listed below want to pop back into the ask box and let me know they got their answer, I would appreciate that, but you don't have to either (or if you have an additional question or comment, that's fine too!). I will reblog this a few times to make sure you have a higher chance of spotting it.

I numbered the Asks and put my answers in another color so you can tell things apart a bit easier. This is a trial run on answering these this way. I will also tag things for spoilers. ^_^

Anon:  "There's a she-wolf in the closet" made me laugh so hard I cried sdfjglkjl I was not expecting that out of nowhere 🤣😭  the temptation to name the wolf Shakira...............immense.

I'm so glad you got that reference! My husband and I sing that song to each other with the little "awoos" and all, lol. It was too good to pass up. Fun fact, if you name her Shakira, Oswin has a unique response. 

2. Anon:  Hmmm. "I like the name Aster I'll probably use it again" HMMMMM hMMMMM hmmmMMMM Is this new Aster the ??? RO

Remembered that, did ya 😁 (I was quietly cackling when I wrote that for the old ask). You questioning Aster just makes me want to mess with you Nony, you can't tempt me like this! 

3. Anon:  Aster is so hawt, carressing our cheek w his thumb???? "i wont hurr you" pls let him be an ro bc gah damnnnn

Glad that did it for you, Anon, lol. There will be more of that in store. ^_^

4. Ravioli anon here, hope you remember me LOL I just finished reading the new chapter and I HAD A BLAST The whole gang in here now!!!!!! Aster is no longer question marks!!!! (I will admit when they were introcuded I almost, ALMOST expected their name in game to just be ???)

Hello Ravioli! Still chuckling about that I hope you know. The temptation was unreal to leave ??? in there, lol. At this point, even I know him more by that than his name!

Also to keep up with my perfect choice of names, my she-wolf is now named Der, because together we are Ravi and Der Get it, Ravi 'n Der. Consider this as a way to honor our dear grandma we were named after by our loving dads, you'll never be forgotten, you girlboss of a woman 

OMG, you are killing me over here, lol. This makes me want to code something for that, lol. Just your fathers shaking their heads at your MC while still being kinda amused and weirdly proud. Grandmother Ravinder would glare at you, but smile later.

5. @origamihoshi: Screaming about the necklace Oswin gives MC, my headcanon about MC wearing the snail shell as a necklace can now be canon! and I guess more reasons for my MC to be down bad for Oswin oops. I'm loving the update! I'm so happy to finally meet Rune, I love them so much! I wanna befriend them all. and I feel like there's been a good balance to spend time with all the characters so far and that makes me really happy. 😌Also cuddling with Zahn was so sweet oh my god, I love them so much too! I got so many more questions about MC and the curse, and the mark for that matter, looking forward to when we finally get some answers.

I very, very nearly told you that when you posted your MC, I was so ecstatic. I thought if you while coding that section too. I am so glad you enjoyed the new chapter and new goodies. Lots of fun stuff to come! ^_^

6. @mutsuowo:  HELP I NAMED THE SHE-WOLF ASTER BECAUSE I FIRST CALLED THE MULE YARROW AND NOW I HAVE NOT ONE, NOT TWO BUR THREE ASTER* GOING AROUND (I know one changed to Lakota but the joke that count)

Whoops! Lol Sorry my friend! I don't think any more Asters are hiding about at least. Probably….

7. @mutsuowo: I got spoiled of Aster's name by accident and even then I mistook it for being Lakota, so I thought somehow Lakota had a divorce and took the children to be an option romance with the MC. Cue to me acting like a variety game host and going "We have a cult member, a magician, childhood friends and also a wolf...what about you Aster ? What do you bring to make we choose you ?" The answer was being a DILF

Lol! Oh dear, yeah, bestie has a quarter-life crisis and leaves his wife and 4 kids to live that DILF life. Love it, this is some quality daytime TV stuff. 😆 

8. Anon:  Hello there! I am currently in the middle of the newest chapter, very very good work! Spoiler ahead : So MC is absorbing magic? That might actually help the theory that somehow MC is a god, demi-god, or whatever that is: cursed because they are on this plane and needing magic as a very part of their being? I can't imagine that a god wouldn't be starving for magic if deprived of it. Perhaps in GC it's not magic gods handle, but something similar? The fact that we CHOSE the mark truly makes me think that somehow we were choosing an aspect of ourselves for some reason. Not only something physical either. If not our domain, perhaps a tell of why we were cursed in the first place ? I wonder if, before the Curse manifested, MC would have been flagged as a magic being ? I don't think there was anybody that could have sussed them out back then though ? Rune is amazing, btw, big fan. Can't wait for Purple Lad to accompany us and need a bath as badly as Duri did !

Oooh, are you perhaps my Nony who sent some other theories in about this? Very juicy theory as well. Next chapter you'll learn a bit more about Hayat's curse over the gods and see if it lines up or changes your thoughts more. 😁 I'm glad you like Rune too! They are in for a new experience for sure. Even if they aren't as stuffy as other nobles, they definitely appreciate more refined things. The little town MC grew up in might be a bit of a culture shock. 

9. Anon:  Sooooo... I'm thinking we ARE the mad god ! A reincarnation of it at least ! Thinking about how the cult wanted us dead, I am thinking that as long as MC is alive, they can't have another incarnation of them.   But What exactly was it that drove the god mad ?

Oooh! This one is juicy too! These theories are so tasty! Lots of questions with this one. And like the one above, there may be some info in chapter 6 that may just give more evidence one way or another.

10. Anon:  Me on my first playthrough: oh, Oswin's pretty cute! I think I'll try romancing him first Me when I meet Zahn: oh no you can't just make me choose like that how am I supposed to do this Me when I meet Duri: are you kidding me. Ok screw it I'm romancing Duri Me when I meet Rune: FUCKAIJASJDSAAA Me when I meet ???: No reaction because I'm already combusted. I can't even anymore 

Lol! I am glad and maybe just a tiny bit sorry that you're so torn, my dear. Let's find some glue and get you patched up… ^_^

11. Anon:  HAVE THEORIES! NATHAN IS DURI'S UNCLE, AND ASS-TER -HE DESERVES THAT AFTER THE RING BUSINESS >:( - WAS RAISED BY THOSE ASSHOLES WHO ALMOST KIDNAPPED MC! (I am open to Asster endearing himself later, but I'm mad at him rn, how dare he hurt my already hurt, lovely, MC 😡😡😡) Anyway, your writing is impeccable as always, can't wait to (perhaps) bring Asster to his knees (with love or spite, or maybe both?? He seems like someone easy to love-hate, lol). Tysm, for God Cursed, I love it <333

Yaaass, moar theories! That's a good one too! Nathan having some secrets wouldn't be shocking either. They'd get along too… And it is totally fair for MC to be salty! And ASSter is a perfect nickname, lol. It's also fair that in chapter 6 you'll be able to (try to) get after him about it. :3

12. Anon:  TW SPOILERS ''There is nothing I want more than to hear you…hear you say what you- Nothing more… But for your own sake. Y/N, I'm a monster. I have been a monster. Your heart should be free of thoughts of me until you know what haunts my sleep at night. If you can do that for me and your heart does not change, then I will hear those words and I will spend the rest of my days showing you what you mean to me.'' UUUUHHMMMMM, EXCUSE MEE?????? LIKE THIS IS THE MOST-ROMANTIC-NON-LOVE-CONFESSION I HAVE EVER HEARD??? EVEN THOUGH IT BURNS ME TO NOT KNOW WHAT AFFLICTS OSWIN, AFTER HEARING THAT I'M WILLING TO WAIT FOR HIM.

I love that you love this! I might have cried juuuust a little bit when I wrote that scene, lol (shocking, I know).

13. Anon:  replayed the IF from the start for the update and gosh i felt so bad for our dear MC who has gone through SO much in a (relatively) short amount of time. and the way MC just always thinks about their fathers makes me sobbbbbb. one that always gets me is the scene where MC cried out for their fathers when they were in pain (my heart broke when they said they wanted to be held by their papa). another is in the scene with jasper and co. (‘i learned it from my fathers!’, yesss go MC!!!!). but oh, just imagining the absolute heartbreak the fathers would feel if they knew how MC cried out for them and knew about everything that MC went through, makes me tear up! MC is SO loved by their fathers and MC loves them just as much and i love that. i hope we’ll be able to give da and papa the biggest hugs when we see them again 🥹wonderful update, author! i absolutely adore the world you’ve built and the brilliant characters you’ve created (shout out to one my favs.. our new she-wolf friend <3)

I set out on this IF journey intending to be a bit hard on the MC and I think I succeeded, lol. It might be hard to believe but I really do love the MC as a character too and I feel for them. Hopefully not too hard, but they're on a journey of perseverance so I have faith in them. ^_^ That scene really tore me up too, especially thinking about how hard it would hit the dads to know their beloved kid was calling out to them. 😭 I am so glad you enjoyed the update, my dear, there will be great big dad-hugs in the future, I promise (and more than a few tears). ^_^

14. Anon:  idk if it's choice or route-specific but, zahn was NOT looking good at the end of chapter 5 and i'm worried 😟

Not route-specific (unfortunately???)…they're…going through some things. 😬 (sorry in advance)

15. Anon:  Hi, hi!! Dropping by to blabber about the update after i've finally had time to lose myself in it! (Oh no it got long again.) Okay, so, from the very moment i saw your intro post (over half a year ago, methinks) i decided to go for Rune's route first. I have been very patient, very faithful. And now i can finally say it was so, so worth the wait!!! they have me wrapped all around their beautiful noble finger; they're perfect, they are everything (i mean, how many people can say a literal god shows up for their birthday? yeah, thought so). I know they are no exception either and have their own share of issues, but honestly? that's even better. I wish i was kidding about the amount of times i daydream about them. Look at me now how i'm smiling like a stupid idiot. And the fact that i can make my MC an absolute shy mess around them is just so!! *chef's kiss* 

"Oh no it got long again" is like the tagline for my existence, lol. I am so giddy that you adore Rune! I think they've had less traction since they weren't introduced until now, but I also believe they are just the type of person that is better experienced. I enjoy writing all of the ROs, but Rune is such a presence in my heart and I really hope that comes through.

Also, did Duri seriously rat them out like that? Umm, for science, of what nature, exactly, are the books under Runey's bed?

LOL and I'm so glad you caught that bit about their "hidden literature." Rune LOVES romance novels, including the ridiculous smutty ones even if the plot is kinda bad.

Anyway, moving on, because you fed us so well with the story once again!! Can i just say i love your brain? Can i? Is that weird? Apologies. So!

You can totally say that, lol. I appreciate that you think so, my brain frustrates me sometimes, but I like how smooth it is. Very soft.

We learned so much in this update, and yet our answers are still too far to reach--but that's the whole fun about this! I'm thinking things, i'm suspecting, but i'll hold onto my theories for now… It is indeed very fortunate that each of MC's new friends can seemingly contribute a piece to this vexing puzzle; question is, is the picture only missing the very last piece, or are all four needed for it to be complete? I'm folding my hands and patiently waiting to find out in future updates. 

Oooh, you're speaking my language, Nony. There are some theories up above, maybe those will get your mind spinning too. That's a very good question though too. Eveyone seems to have something that might help MC out…so the question could be, do they go full Power Rangers and combine them to solve this problem or is one strong enough on their own? Hmmmmm? Time will tell.

One thing i will say is, more people may know about MC and their whole deal than Oswin may want to even consider. People with not the best intentions, that is.

I'm sure it's fiiiiiine. Probably just a…crazy…crazy fluke. It's fine. 😀

Speaking of, Oswin is so sweet! He cares so much i think it's rending him apart. Perhaps he should partake of Nathan's pipe every now and then. You know, for recreational purposes. Frankly i admit i don't know how mean you still can be to Oswin because every time there's a choice during his scenes i just tunnel-vision to the friendliest one there. It really makes me feel sorry for him if there are MCs out there who are still bitter about their relationship. As he was opening up about what kinds of actual horrors he witnessed and had to deal with in consequence, it really made me think MC's little group should, as a side-quest, go out and find him a therapist, because this guy *slaps him on the back* can fit so much trauma in him!

That's a good way to describe Oswin. He feels very intensely and those emotions are difficult for him to manage. I try not to be too mean to him, but I do want to try and give a decent variety of responses to the past tension for some MCs. Negativity there isn't a huge focus, so I try not to go too far down the rabbit hole with it at least, lol. A therapist is a great idea for him, for real. You cracked me up with that reference, I imagine Lakota trying to sell him to the MC, lol.

 I see Zahn has entered the trenches(TM). Just after i had them repeatedly stabbed in MC's place. And just after they finally got to cuddle with MC. This is fine. Not gonna lie, for a solid second you had me believe we wouldn't see them come back from that totally not evil or at least highly doubtful church of theirs, and that we'd had to leave without them. Haha, no waay. Lunan wouldn't do that to them, right? Right? Oh thank gods. See? I was right. Anyway, it seems like their character development arc is coming up soon, so i'm keeping calm and not cracking my knuckles, not at all.

Oh yes, there will be some development soon here. Tee hee?

Duri is so fun. Their playfulness is so endearing, so much so that i find myself repeatedly swayed in my decision to have them in a (now mostly) platonic relationship with MC. Simmer down, you'll have your turn. It had me rolling how they snapped once the bandits insulted their feet lmao! Also, also, their dynamic with Rune? Mmm, so good. I love the kind of friendship that's like "yeah i picked up this weird wet dog one day and now it won't leave me be and it's annoying, but only i'm allowed to say that. here, have a treat."

I love that you love that. Writing Duri is fun and I get to break some social norms with them so it's a win-win for us all. The relation to Rune is a blast.

Moving on, Duri sniffing MC after they talked with someone they didn't know; Duri immediately leaping at the opportunity to tease a jealous MC; Duri coming to MC's rescue to put a harasser in their place--they can't keep getting away with being so charming! Oh wait, they can. Human laws don't apply to them, after all.

Duri is already so loyal. Like a pup you picked up at the shelter, the connection is pretty quick for them. Also, if you didn't know, you can also get Rune to get defensive of MC being harassed in the tavern. Currently thinking of changing the code of that, but if you choose to stay neutral or a bit distrustful of Duri, Rune will get involved instead. Both have the confidence and the power to back it up though, can't go wrong.

And Aster? Something is up with him. Big time. Bost obviously, his name. I don't know, i don't know, i'm not convinced it's a coincidence or merely "fate." I'm watching you, Aster. Okay, and yes, i see why MC might need his help, but he never once elaborated on that part where he said he needs MC for power. Sooo, naah, i'm not putting my egg in your basket, not yet. Especially!! After he so brutally demonstrated just how much of a bigger hand he has over MC. That was evil. (In a good way.) He's unhinged, and i love that in a character. I would not trust him even with a cheese grater.

That may be wisdom here for sure, lol. Aster is quite the character, as are all of them I suppose. All have secrets he especially has some serious growing to do. He'll be an interesting addition - and a very smug one at that. Maybe juuuust maybe MC can get him to feel a little remorse for being an ASSter, to quote a previous ask, lol.

I almost thought MC's group of friends were going to mistake him for the kidnapper and everyone would want to throw hands, or would at least be very leery of him, so seeing how easily he slotted in had me a little surprised (and i think he was a bit surprised himself).

That very nearly happened actually. I cut it because of chapter length, and I'm thinking I want to polish the ending for that anyway. I feel like I was burnt out while writing that and I pushed it too fast. So, we'll see what happens in future….

I really, really liked the option of having MC be scared of him after he put a cork (dart) in Jasper's mouth (throat). The head tilt afterwards? Wiping away a stray tear? "Now come sit with me on my picnic blanket designer cloak to talk about how everything is drawn to you, including me?" "I'll need to study you?" Yes, i'll take your entire stock.

I'm glad you enjoyed your dessert, Nony. ;) There will be some serious studying in the next chapter.

Oswin being extremely quiet while MC was recounting their failed abduction because he was still recovering from those 6 panic attacks he had since finding MC's room empty and with signs of struggle.

THIS absolutely. MC may get an account of the experience later.

 i can't wait to see what the dads are going to say about each of MC's new friends! I can already imagine who might not entirely vibe with whom, especially if papa and da are going to be in a sour mood after they see my (feral despite being the healer of the party) MC scarred and sore despite their letters containing nothing but rainbows and sunshine (oops). MC's right, though, how are they going to house so many people lol.

This will be so much fun, especially when it comes to sleeping arrangements…A couple ROs will get themselves sorted but there's a couple that we might just get a "one bed" trope with, lol.

And last but not least, MC got the promised puppy!!! (i named her "Ginger" <33) 

Oh that is such a cute name too! She is kinda the color of ginger and she's also very gentle (ginger) AND she can be very spicy if you piss her off. Very gingery.

I have been here before and gushed about your writing on multiple occasions and i don't want to repeat myself over and over, so i'll just reiterate once more that i'm constantly blown away by how real and vivid you make everything feel. You're putting things down and i'm picking them right up, thank you, thank you, yup, i'll have that as well, thank you. You're painting pictures inside my head, and they're gorgeous and vibrant and moving now--hey, how did you even get in here? I'm convinced you're a mage. MC is not the mage here (yet?), but you sure are!! It's okay, you may fess up now. As always, thank you so much for all your hard work! May your holidays be full of joy and rest! Take care <333

I am so thankful that you resonate so much with my writing, my friend. That really truly makes my heart so glad and encourages me to keep at it. I hope each chapter brings you more and more enjoyment and adventure. ^_^

16. @rhiannon02:  IM SCREAMING OVER CH 5 LITERALLY SCREAMING ASTER ??? IM IM LOSING IT

Well, hang on dear, maybe I can help you find it, lol. (I heard that one in my soul) ^_^

That's all for now! ^_^

[pissterdaniel]

TIT AUCKLAND FINAL RECAP

the spoilery stuff is at the bottom of the post, the rest is safe

Since June there has been a discord server going for everyone at the Auckland show. It was amazing to make so many friends before even going to the show. We all got to know each other in the months leading up to the event. Super cool!

We all met up for lunch before the show to hang out and exchanged our crafts. (craft haul x) It made me so happy to see people excited to meet Carlos and my dolls :).

@peter-must-die with his amazing shirt holding Carlos

We made our way to the KTK theater, and I bought some merch. Literally shouted when I opened my photocards to see BLONDE QUIFF PHIL!!!!!! :O

I came PREPARED for my meet and greet, had an agenda broken down into 3 steps. I had been overthinking this for months and have lost so much sleep from tit anxiety. The plan was very helpful! I was revising it in the line.

My hands were totally full. Sister Daniel kept on escaping my grip, we think she was trying to run away. I also recall repeatedly doing my Christophe Giacometti (from yuri on ice) impression in the line.

In the meet and greet line I discovered that I randomly have a lot of upper body strength 😅. I was giving out VERYYY tight deep pressure hugs to people who wanted them. It was very calming. I also got a stopwatch out and we did some 4/4/8 breathing. Then our time was almost up, and WE COULD SEE DAN.

I filmed Max's meet and greet for them first. So that was good getting to spend a minute or so in front of Dan and Phil before it was my turn. I had briefed Max on my agenda, so they knew exactly what to do. My full meet and greet post with photos and the video are here (x). THANK YOU SO MUCH @shitwheresfoxy FOR BEING THE BEST GLAMOUROUS ASSISTANT EVER!

Phil did not seem like a human. I stupidly told him he was like an animatronic robot. He is just SO BEAUTIFUL IT DOESNT SEEM REAL. You need to understand, PHIL LESTER IS SO ETHERALLY GORGEOUS IT IS OUT OF THIS WORLD!!!!!!!! He's just so 🥰. No wonder Dan can't stop looking at him like that in the videos. I get it now.

Dan definitely led my m&g, and I've heard others say this too. He does most of the talking, offers to take the photos, and he had the biggest reactions to things. I made him cackle a few times and I will wear that like a badge of honour. Some other highlights include:

Dan's first reaction to Carlos "uhh.. what?"

Dan's crab hands in our selfie

Dan talking to my camera whilst I fetched something from Max

Their first reaction to my dolls

Phil waving and saying bye to me

BONUS 1 MINUTE AND 39 MINUTE VIDEO OF PHIL HOLDING CARLOS, THIS MEANS THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO ME

I am slightly embarrassed about how excited I got, I went a bit nuts. Told them Carlos was "the love of my life" 🤦. Was completely hyper after the m&g, had major zoomies and couldn't calm down. That's when we caught up with the silver VIP people from the server.

@totally-srs-all-the-time made this STUNNING bedsheet cape and wanted to put it on me to have mega bed sheet titfit. Only when she held it up to me, I thought she was wanting to use it as a weighted blanket to calm me. So I lay on the floor 😂, she still put it on me and got this pic.

Met the phiwi backpack too!!!

I recorded our preshow and put it on youtube (x). Can't believe Olly's figure skating question was answered! That was wickedly cool. There is a very small group of us who got SUPER into ice skating these past couple of months. So to have our niche acknowledged by Dan himself was PHENOMENAL.

We all danced to HOTOGO, @einsteinfrizz 's amazing video from the balcony can be found here (x)

And then it was time for the show.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!

I took notes during intermission and after the show of what I remembered.

Our conspiracies were:

Toilet, Clothes, Bus, and Vegas

"They share clothes." Went on about how their nipples touch the same cloth and did weird nipply gestures.

Lawyer Dan banned Australia, wrote erotic fanfiction about Gollum, and went to jail for killing phil. (Phil then said "hopefully he was not a CEO" and everyone CHEERED SO LOUDLY FOR AGES. They were both caught off guard by the big audience reaction, and it seemed like Dan was genuinely surprised/shocked that Phil said that.

Linguist Phil's favourite word was 'perky nana', he liked to help old ladies cum, and had a secret collection of lesbians.

Phil's 1 minute improv was on stationary. He thought the person said penis, but he changed it to pens, and then decided to change it to stationary. He told a story of how he had a cola scented gel pen and would fill in an entire page and just sniff it.

Early on in the show Phil thought he swallowed a fly and started choking. He then yelled for a "minion" to fetch him water. Dan was taken back by this and it was about a minute before a crew member walked on with his water bottle.

(I'm sensing this show is a lot of Phil saying off-script random shit and dan being shocked by him. Which honestly checks out.)

"Jesus but more shippable" IM SORRY WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY DAN

Phil said reject modernity embrace tradition correctly.

They still think the phanniversary was "last month."

Everyone yelling "gay" together in unison was so healing.

Phil messed up the song lyric again and said "I got the tattoo" instead of "you"

SISTER DANIEL HOLY FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN. I was in the 4th row on the left side which is where she stood. I knew all the spoilers going into it BUT NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME. I screamed at the top of my lungs when I first saw her come out. I AM SO THANKFUL FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF GETTING TO SEE HER IN PERSON I WILL NEVER TAKE THAT FOR GRANTED. She is so AAAH. Religious, eye-opening experiences were certainly had. AND SHE WAS IN DOC MARTENS. I'm never gonna be able to put into words how feral she made me.

I would say that I was very familiar with the show content before I got there. But in reality, everything was 100x weirder than I thought it would be. I mean that in the best way possible!!! Dnp were OFF. THE. RAILS. They were still the same people you see in the videos, but uncut and UNLEASHED.

AND THEN THERE WAS THE FACT THAT I WENT HOME WITH AN ACTUAL PROP?!?!?!

At the end of the show, I rushed to the front of the stage to steal the confetti. (I'm a hoe for collecting show confetti, I did the same thing at WAD).

Whilst I was collecting confetti and taking pics of Carlos, one of the stagehands came out a few times, handing out the Australian props to random people standing at the stage.

THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!!! Here are some close-up photos I took of Obi Wan, and a video of what he can do (x). I walked into TIT with a Sister Daniel and Father Philip doll, and I came out of TIT with Phobi Phan Phenobi.

I also got one of the role model or no-le model cards, it is blank on the other side apart from their signature.

I also got to get up and close with other people's props. I even got to play Max's ukulele. I played the TIT song and I can tell you first hand that that thing was VERY out of tune. I know Dan was only fake playing it, but at least tune it first 😂.

The day after, a big group of us went to Auckland Zoo! Man that was a lot of fun. We signed TABINOFs, and I got a bunchhhh of pics of Phobi Wan, my photo dump is here (x). @spanielt0wel also got a doll, so I made sure to get some photos with them together.

The post-tit depression is REALLLLLL. I miss being surrounded by like minded people. It was so easy to unmask and just be completely myself. I have never felt more like me than when I was surrounded by all the queer, neurodivergent phannies. This was the happiest I've felt in years. So thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who came to talk to me, and to all the friends I've made through the discord 💙.

Now I am back home and terrible influencing up my room cause I never want to forget this amazing experience.

The box frame was inspired by this one

The posters I got signed are looking GOOOOOD. Also Phobi Wan looks so silly sitting with my monster high dolls. I'm gonna treasure him forever. HE MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also thank you to everyone who voted on my poll you've convinced me that #4 is the way to go and I shall be ordering that flag soon.

THANK YOU TIT AUCKLAND

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

Spy × Family Chapter 108: An Analysis

So, after a two month wait, we finally got a new chapter! And we were SO well fed LMAO!!!

Anyway, as always, spoilers for Spy × Family Chapter 108 under the cut!

We start off the chapter with Melinda nervously explaining to Yor her reason for being "Lunaluna Selena" in disguise: it's a fun hobby!

And, obviously, she's in disguise out of worry about the rumours that might spread if the former First Lady of Ostania dabbles in mysticism: as it might cause problems with her husband. (Though it is messed up that she has to hide her hobbies from her own husband, but we know how Donovan is).

In the middle of Melinda's monologue about why she loves this sort of thing, she drops a rather odd line:

(First of all: DANDADAN reference anyone?) Kidding, kidding, it was probably just a throw-off line, but what we're really focusing on is: Melinda's emphases on the word "Telepathy".

Now, side note, I'm not sure if the emphasis was to draw our, the readers' attentions to the fact that Melinda believes in the concept of telepathy existing, or if Melinda herself is putting emphasis on the word "telepathy", implying she knows something about the project that Anya was made for.

It is a fascinating thing to put in, though: if one's talking about the things they believe in, then putting "telepathy" in the top three seems like an odd choice, especially if more general terms like "superpowers" or whatever exist.

It does seem very intentional on Endo-sensei's part to put in, especially since, as of now, we don't know how much Melinda knows about Donovan's current plans, or even about what he's done before.

It could be a reference to Anya's past, or some sort of red herring so the reveal of Anya's past can be more shocking. I'm not sure. Yet, I choose to believe that Melinda knows something about Anya's past--- something maybe she found out on accident? Which is why she's so terrified of Donovan?

In essence, this chapter basically confirms that Melinda is suffering some sort of psychological abuse at the hands of Donovan, leading to her fear of him. What's more interesting is that Donovan is intentionally trying to drive a rift between Melinda and the boys. Possibly he's trying to isolate her by keeping them under his thumb, so that she doesn't try to "betray" him? Or maybe he's already threatened the lives of the boys in return for Melinda staying, all for the sake of keeping the "happy family man" image up to the public (though we know how messed up the family really is).

These panels. They confirm that Melinda has thoughts about standing up for herself and Damian (and Demetrius too, I guess--- I think it's implied), but the sheer terror of what Donovan might do holds her back. Half a step forward, a whole leap back. She even says, "Fortune telling [a hobby that she loves dearly] doesn't matter either. What am I doing here?"

So. yeah.

[NOTE: I skipped over the tarot reading part initially so that I could talk about Donovan and his abuse, and connect it to the first bit of the chapter. The tarot reading part comes now.

NOTE 2: All the information about the tarot cards comes from Google. I have no knowledge about tarot, so please take this with a grain of salt, and if I make any mistakes, please don't hesitate in correcting me :)]

These are the cards we see initially.

She says the card representing Anya's present is the Four of Cups. According to Google, it means:

The Four of Cups tend to appear when you are feeling discouraged and unmotivated. You may feel as if there is no solution or way forward in your situation. Life has become stagnant, and nothing seems to make you happy or passionate.

(Labyrinthos, Tarot Cards Meanings List)

Which is kind of true in reference to Anya's life as a student. A student's life is filled with studying (God knows I know it), something Anya is apathetic towards. It's also "Plan A" of Operation Strix: through studying, Anya becomes an Imperial Scholar and Twilight makes contact with Donovan Desmond.

Or, it could be an allusion to Melinda's situation: she's discouraged, and feels trapped in her marriage. Nothing makes her passionate anymore, because everything she experiences is tainted by her husband (see: the panel above where she says 'even fortune-telling doesn't matter).

Melinda says that the Death card represents the factors around Anya. There's the obvious joke about "Oh the Grim Reaper's right next to you!" with Yor next to Anya, but the Death card shouldn't be taken literally.

The Death card signals that one major phase in your life is ending, and a new one is going to start. You just need to close one door, so the new one will open. The past needs to be placed behind you, so you can focus your energy on what is ahead of you.

(Labyrinthos, Tarot Cards Meanings List)

This is a reference to Anya's previous life as a test subject, and orphan; and how she's left that past behind and been allowed to actually be a child, and how she's finally being loved as she deserves. How her circumstances, the factors around her are changing. It could also pertain to her physical growth, or maybe it was just there for the joke about Yor being the Grim Reaper (which is still pretty ominous. Who is Yor going to have to kill?)

And, finally, the Star in reverse.

When the Star card is reversed, it means that you are feeling as though everything has turned against you. The challenges that you would normally see as exciting seem instead to make you feel as though you cannot overcome them. You have lost faith in something, whether inside yourself or with something you normally find dear.  Without hope, without faith, we cannot find the motivation to progress forward in the challenges that we face. Where in your life are you feeling hopeless? In what ways do you already feel defeated? And how does that affect your actions? The star reversed asks us to nurture our sense of hope and positive energy to help propel our actions with joy instead of fear.

(Labyrinthos, Tarot Cards Meanings List)

Since this represents Anya's future... it doesn't look to good. It feels intentionally grey and murky, with no clear answer as to what's going to happen in Anya's future, but it still seems pretty bleak.

Overall, these readings don't seem to point to a future that seems too good for Anya.

I am very afraid what's going to happen to her (and to find out what's going to happen to her), but I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

We still don't know what exactly Anya means by "This feeling... I think I've felt it before...", especially when it's related to Melinda's fear of returning home and to Donovan. Again, it makes me very nervous for her backstory.

Anya and Yor return to where the rest of the gang is, and---

why is he like this.

After Twilight spends the whole day socializing with the other parents, "pumping them for information", Emile talks about how nice it must be to have a nice mom, which leads to this interaction:

This has a striking similarity to the chapter where Anya confesses about her mind-reading powers to Damian: the reassurance back then that Damian loves his dad, and now, the reassurance that Melinda loves him. Parallels about who he loves and idolizes, and now who loves him.

And, it's also so heartwarming that she specifically takes off her mask: showing her, perhaps, most true self to him, especially due to the fact that she comes from a family of actors, constantly putting on masks.

Speaking of masks... we can see a bit of [REDACTED] bleed through the mask of Loid, and Twilight.

It's the same, pensive expression that we see him wear in Episode 35 (Chapter 56), except it's more... tired. More weary. Less affectionate.

(The panel from Chapter 56)

We see a man imagining What Could Have Been, if the trajectory of his life hadn't changed so drastically: especially at a festival much like the one he's currently at.

We see a man tired of war.

We also see it in Episode 3 (Chapter 3)

This is when he's seeing young boys playing, and thinking of himself and his own friends.

Anya doesn't read his mind, but she does read his expression-

And so, the family man mask comes on, but not quite as properly as he'd like.

We can still see [REDACTED] shine through.

It's the same smile he gives Yor and Anya when Nightfall comes over, the smile with, which Fiona notes, "a tiny hint of real emotion seeping out from beneath it".

We jump to some time later, with Director Gorey asking Loid if he's willing to take on a VIP patient who presents a "challenging" case, which is followed by the inevitable reveal that the patient is Melinda.

I think this implies that Melinda has tried seeing psychiatrists before, but none of them worked out for her, or none of them could figure out what was wrong with her (hence the "challenging").

It's also revealed that Yor suggested Melinda sees Loid, which is greatly boosting his mission.

Gorey says that he suspects she's suffering from an intense case of Persecution Complex, so I searched that up.

People with a persecution complex suffer from the feeling that other people are trying to harm them.

(Cambridge Dictionary)

Given Gorey's diagnosis, I'm wondering if he's implying that Melinda is untrustworthy (which also implies that Melinda might have spoken of her fear of her husband--- perhaps in a roundabout way, which also led to her being classified as "challenging".) Though, for this, we'll need to wait and see next chapter.

FINAL THOUGHTS: I really loved this chapter! It definitely was worth the two month wait (and, I hope Endo-sensei is better, I think he took the break because of poor health). I'm excited for the next chapter! Tell me what your thoughts are!

[lxmelle]

Tentative thoughts about the JJK Epilogue Chapters that have just leaked.

Spoilers (obviously) under the cut:

As you know if you have come across my posts, I’m a shipper so I view things with a special satosugu lens. I mean, they’re the grandparents - the strongest of the modern era - who started the wave of change, after all.

Just this image alone reminds me of that:

I digress.

So I think it links back to Gojo trying to nurture the students so that what happened to Geto and him wouldn’t be repeated.

The epilogue of each person seems to pull on themes relating to Gojo & Geto.

Snow = their connection = their Ao / 青春 / Blue Spring

Nostalgia. Unchanging bond. A sentimentality. Something treasured.

The person who you are on the inside may not change you when if things in life occur or threaten to change you.

Panda being Yuta’s/Gojo clan’s treasures = being spoken about by children of the future.

The passage of time that is natural. What seems to be a peaceful world. The curse between Yuta & Rika was unlike what was between Gojo & Geto.

If one is willing to heal, people can recover & move on. EDIT: Even if I’m not generally a fan of YutaMaki , I guess I can see the sense in it. Yuta is a bit monstrous from being able to bind Rika & upon releasing use her shikigami & move on (despite(?) his pure love much as it is part of his CT) with Maki. And Maki can use Mai (with honour) to obliterate her clan to change things. So they’re just quite fitting I guess. Gojo & Geto are a little different in that they moved on in some ways, but also bound each other emotionally until the end.

“From the bottom of my heart” / 心底 / 心の底 (as pictured from jjk0) - sincerity, authenticity. One’s true self.

That it matters whether one truly and sincerely cares. Whether the other portrays themselves authentically or not.

Even the blindfold and Gojo’s somewhat disapproving attitude towards Geto’s apparent frivolous attitude in his portrayal as a villain was pictured in 0 — seem to parallels with Nobara & her mum.

But they’re of course not perfectly paralleled. Gojo cared for Geto & Geto was honest with Gojo at the end. Geto also never enjoyed doing what he did, unlike that Nobara’s mum appears to. But that is if we believe what she actually says.

U: Aren’t you cold being beside me?

S: The same goes for you, Uraume.

Theme here? My only one.

Each other’s only exception. And they’re reunited in the afterlife.

Edit: if I’m not mistaken, Gojo & Geto do not refer to each other by name in the afterlife. Only in the scene in jjk 0 (“satoru, you’re late” & “suguru, ______”).

And so it seems poignant that Sukuna & Uraume call each other by name in the afterlife + flashback in the epilogue.

It makes for a nice contrast between the pairs, imho... it’s worth noting here that they also go in opposite directions - South & North, respectively. To the past/“unknown” and somewhere new/a “next time”.

In sum... It echoes my thoughts over the ending of jjk. Gojo, Geto, and the others of their generation helped to break the norms of the crappy jujutsu world.

Gege injects these little salient themes into the series and they’re like Easter eggs for people like me who think too much 🤣

Thank you Gege for writing this...

Thank you guys for reading my thoughts & musings.

Comments are welcome as always 🙏🏼

[kingofbodyrolls]

REMMY—😭😭😭When you told me to check Tumblr because you’d left a review, I was NOT prepared for this emotional ambush 😭 The fact that you took the time to write something so thoughtful? For me?? ME??? 😭 Days have passed, and I’m still sitting here sniffling into my tea.

I’m absolutely over the moon that you’re enjoying your birthday gift so far! (Though my ignorant European ass did forget about those pesky Freedom Units again… 😂). It’s cozy without feeling cramped, right? ✨ And the way you called it a WHOLE ASS WORLD? 😭 I’m sobbing. I didn’t even think I did that much world-building for this one—I purposefully kept it light because I didn’t want to bog down the story with scene explanations and accidentally double its length. (Though let’s be real, you know I love doing that).

And yes! I normally don’t write Yoongi like this, but I decided to mix it up this time. He’s quieter, more reserved, but his actions? Oh, his actions. They’re practically shouting with love and warmth! He’s going to be there for Y/N in ways that feel so steady and genuine (don’t worry—no big bad angst! The only backstory drama is Jimin’s past, which… maybe was a spoiler? Whoops 😬).

His daughter? Adorable. Sweet, polite, playful—she’s everything 🥹 You’ll see (or should I say read). And oh, the location details! As I told you on Discord, this place is pretty far out—like five hours from the big city by car (even longer by public transport). It’s a poorer neighborhood, which is why everything is so affordable—Y/N’s house is dirt cheap compared to her city apartment.

AND JIMIN—😭😭😭 I’m actually tearing up again because this Jimin owns my entire heart. I’ve never met the man (obviously), but I poured so much of what I imagine him to be into this story. He feels so authentic to me, and I hope that comes across for you too! He’s warm, welcoming, and OH, you’re going to get so much more of him 😏

As for Y/N—YOU are Y/N! (Or not—you do you. Personally, I dissociate completely 😂 I write Y/N as someone totally different from myself.) But yes, the tea she’s drinking? Absolutely your favorite 🥰

THE BEST PRESENT YOU’VE EVER HAD??? 🥹 Now I’m straight-up bawling. I hope that’s just a sweet exaggeration, though, because surely you’ve received something better than this silly little story! Either way, I’m over the moon that it made you so happy. I was low-key terrified you might not like it 🫣Thank you so much for reading and leaving that incredible review, @remmykinsff 🫂 You know I absolutely adore you. And for the love of Jimin, don’t forget to eat! (Did you enjoy them, by the way?) Sending you all my love and a billion hugs 💜

Songs of the Heart (m) | pjm | chap 1: rebirth

Having just settled into a small house on the outskirts of the bustling city, you’re drawn into the haunting melodies of your neighbor’s sad love songs, echoing through the quiet walls day after day. Concerned, you finally gather the courage to knock on his door, unsure of what to expect—only to be face-to-face with Park Jimin, the renowned singer-songwriter whose voice has touched millions. What begins as a simple gesture of kindness soon unravels into something far more complex, as the melodies of his heart beckon you closer.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: musician!au (not completely idol!au), single dad!au, slice of life!au → Trope: strangers to lovers / neighbors to lovers → Genres: slow burn romance / fluff / angst / smut / comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 5.6k → Warnings + triggers: nothing much, just heartache and small misunderstandings 🤭 → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: Hi!!! How are you doing?? 😄 I hope you’re as excited about this new series as I am (and I really, truly mean it when I say this might be my last series for a long while… so buckle up, it’s going to be a ride!). Now, before you go thinking I’m just setting myself up for failure, let me be real with you: my last Jimin series didn’t exactly set the world on fire—sigh. But I adore it, like, adore it. (I know, I’m biased, but can you blame me?) Soooo, this time, we’re going for a more “mainstream” vibe. Think heavily inspired by Jimin’s album Muse (seriously, his whole vibe in that is chef’s kiss), sprinkled with some Face flavor, and, honestly, just Jimin being Jimin. Because, let’s face it—he’s my bias, and I’m OBSESSED. Like, full-on crush mode. So, yeah, it’s basically me writing about my ultimate crush 😳 Now, let’s clear the air about the smut—I’m not going all-out with it here (though there will be some spicy moments, don’t worry 😉). Why? Well, I have a sneaky feeling this series is going to do okay (I mean, I adore these characters so much already 🥹, but engagement might be a different story). So, I’m going to save my energy for what really matters to me—the heart and soul of the story, instead of focusing too much on the smut (which, honestly, I’m not as into writing as I used to be). Okay, okay—back on track. I’m super excited to share this story with you, and I really, really hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Don’t forget to tell me your thoughts—whether you love it, hate it, or just want to fangirl over Jimin with me ✨ This whole story (which will be posted every Sunday for the next eight weeks) is for my dear friend @remmykinsff! I hope you’ll love it 💜

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Why the hell do you have so many boxes?” Yoongi groans, his voice slicing through the quiet winter air as he hefts a particularly heavy one—something he clearly should have let Namjoon handle. His breath fogs up like ghostly clouds, a silent testament to the biting cold.

You stand by the moving truck, arms crossed, the chill curling around you like an unwelcome scarf. The streetlamp above flickers weakly, casting long shadows over the small gathering of your life in boxes. You shiver, not just from the cold but from the weight of this moment—watching your brother Yoongi and your best friend Namjoon haul the sum of your memories into the truck, piece by piece, bound for a new beginning.

It wasn’t your choice to leave; the landlord had pulled the rug out from under you with a sudden hike in rent you couldn’t possibly manage. But this wasn’t just an ending. There was a glimmer of hope in the move—a small house on the outskirts of the city with a garden that you could already see yourself tending, sunlight warming your face. Perfect wasn’t something you’d often dared to dream of, but this felt close enough to touch.

Namjoon heaves the final box into the truck and straightens with a satisfied grin. “That’s the last of it. We managed to fit everything,” he says, his breath visible in the frost-tipped air.

Yoongi, less triumphant, leans against the truck, arms crossed, his usual scowl softened by exhaustion. “Not a lot of stuff, huh? Then why does everything weigh as much as a small planet?”

You roll your eyes at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Tiny apartments don’t leave room for a lot of stuff,” you murmur, thinking of your now-abandoned shoebox of a home. What you own might not fill much space, but every piece carries its own story, its own weight. To them, it’s just heavy. To you, it’s everything.

“Yoon, you should really hit the gym more,” you tease, your voice laced with playful scorn, though the grin on your face betrays your fondness. The sibling bond—a language of its own, fluent in jabs and unspoken affection.

“Are you calling me weak?” Yoongi snaps, his tone sharp, but the flicker of indignation in his eyes is almost theatrical. He knows the answer. You know he knows. It’s part of the game.

You laugh, the sound light and unbothered, a knowing glint in your eyes as you glance at his slender arms. “I don’t have to say it, do I?”

Before the exchange can escalate, Namjoon steps between you with a calm authority that feels as solid as the ground beneath your feet. “Alright, easy, you two. I’ll take care of the heavy lifting. Yoongi, you drive.”

Yoongi scoffs, letting your remark go as he shoots you a withering look that doesn’t quite land. He climbs into the driver’s seat with a practiced air of resignation, his fingers brushing over the steering wheel as Namjoon closes the back of the truck with a satisfying clunk.

The three of you settle inside the truck, and silence slips in, gentle and familiar, as the hum of the engine vibrates beneath you. The radio crackles to life, filling the space with the soft strains of a slow love song. The melody spills out like liquid silver, sad yet hopeful, and the singer’s voice—a perfect blend of sweetness and longing—wraps around you like a blanket against the cold.

Your chest tightens as the words begin to take root, burrowing into the quiet corners of your heart: “Even though I was pitch black, I can’t stop thinking about you all day long. Without you knowing, I want to take one step, then another, closer to you. Stay with you. I will be your reason. I hope this feeling reaches you.”

You stare out the frosted window, the aching beauty of the lyrics mingling with the soft glow of the late afternoon light. The world outside shifts and transforms as Yoongi steers the truck with steady hands, the city’s sprawling chaos giving way to the calm, snow-dusted edges of the outskirts. Frost clings to the barren trees and lonely streetlamps, their icy shimmer catching the fading sunlight like quiet promises.

There it is—your new beginning, cradled in the quiet of the outskirts. The small house stands modestly, embraced by a low, whispering hedge that frames its quaint charm. A tiny terrace juts out at the front, its stone surface dappled with the faint traces of winter frost. You remember the cozy backyard from the last time you visited—a patch of earth waiting patiently for spring to bring it to life.

Yoongi eases the truck to a stop in front of the house, the engine humming briefly before falling silent. The three of you step out, boots crunching softly against the snow-dusted gravel. Your heart thuds louder with each step as you approach the door. It’s a humble thing—made of frosted glass that blurs the world on the other side, catching the dim afternoon light and casting it gently inside. You know that when the sun graces it, the whole entrance will glow like a promise.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you fit the key into the lock, turning it with a satisfying click. The door creaks open, and you step over the threshold into your new home. It greets you with its smallness—barely 80 square meters—but it feels vast compared to the cramped city apartment you left behind. Here, there’s space to breathe, to begin again. And the rent, blissfully lower than what the city demanded, makes it all the sweeter.

You glance at the neighboring house—a touch larger, its lot sprawling wider—but you don’t feel envy. This space is yours. Yours to fill with laughter, with quiet mornings, with life.

Flipping the light switch, the warm glow floods the entranceway. The layout unfolds before you in inviting simplicity. The entrance flows seamlessly into a snug living room, its openness spilling into the compact kitchen. The single bedroom feels intimate but holds a delightful surprise: a small walk-in closet that sets your heart alight with possibility. The bathroom, unexpectedly spacious, feels almost indulgent—a small luxury you hadn’t dared to imagine.

You stand in the quiet warmth of the space, letting it envelop you. Yes, it’s small. Yes, it’s simple. But it’s yours. For the first time in what feels like forever, you’re not just standing in a house. You’re home.

Namjoon brushes past you with a box in hand, his footsteps purposeful. “Where should I put this?” he asks, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of settling dust.

“In the bedroom, please,” you reply, recognizing your own messy scrawl on the side of the box. He nods, disappearing down the short hallway. Moments later, Yoongi follows, arms burdened with lighter boxes this time, his silent stare speaking louder than words. You’re not sure if it’s disapproval or exhaustion—or maybe a mix of both.

Together, the three of you move with practiced rhythm, unloading the truck, the occasional grunt of effort punctuating the soft winter stillness. One by one, your belongings find their way inside, until finally, after an hour and a half, the truck stands empty. Inside, your life now lies in disarray—boxes scattered like misplaced puzzle pieces across the small living room. Thankfully, the heavier furniture already sits snug in its designated spots, thanks to Namjoon’s methodical eye for order.

You all collapse onto the sofa, a symphony of sighs and tired exhales filling the room. The cushions envelop you like a long-awaited embrace, and you lean back, the ache in your muscles giving way to a fleeting moment of peace.

“Do you need help with anything else?” Yoongi asks, his tone more dutiful than eager. You catch the subtext immediately: he’s ready to leave, and who could blame him?

“No, I’m good,” you reply with a grateful smile, sinking further into the plush comfort of your sofa.

But Namjoon isn’t done yet. “Can we make dinner for you before we go?” he offers, sitting up straight as if a second wind has just hit him. You wave him off, declining politely, but he shakes his head, determined. “I saw a grocery store just down the street. Yoongi and I will grab a few things, and then he’ll cook for you.” He’s already on his feet, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves.

Yoongi remains rooted to the sofa, his arms crossed and his expression somewhere between incredulous and annoyed. “You think I’m going to cook for my baby sister?” he scoffs, throwing you a pointed look.

Namjoon doesn’t miss a beat, rolling his eyes like an exasperated parent. “What, are you planning to let your family starve?”

Yoongi’s brows twitch as he fires back, “She’s over thirty. She’s a grown-ass adult. She can take care of herself.”

Your lips part, ready to volley something back, but before you can, Namjoon grabs Yoongi’s arm, hauling him to his feet with an ease that speaks of strength and familiarity. “Come on, Mr. Grown-Ass-Adult,” he says dryly, shoving Yoongi’s coat into his hands while slipping into his own.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t fight it. As Namjoon steers him toward the door, he casts a helpless glance back at you, like a cat begrudgingly herded.

“We’ll be back in a moment,” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, his voice brimming with cheerful authority. “Relax. Or unpack. Your choice.”

The door swings shut behind them, leaving you in the stillness of your new home, the faint scent of winter air lingering. You let out a soft laugh, your heart warm despite the cold. Family might be exhausting, but they’re also everything.

Then the door closes, and for the first time today, you��re alone. The silence wraps around you like a fragile shell, amplifying the creak of settling walls and the faint hum of distant life. You sink into the sofa, letting the stillness settle, until your ears catch something unexpected—a faint thread of melody, a guitar’s quiet murmur drifting through the air.

Curiosity tugs you upright, your steps soft against the floor as you follow the sound. In your new bedroom, you pause, pressing your hand to the wall. The music is clearer now, gentle and raw, strings bending under someone’s practiced fingers. Your new neighbor, perhaps? The thought lingers as you drift back to the kitchen, the faint melody becoming a backdrop to the rustle of cardboard and clinking pans. You begin to unpack—the pans your brother will use to cook, the utensils that clatter together like an impromptu percussion. Cooking has always been his way of showing love, and you can’t wait to taste the comfort it brings.

As you move through the small kitchen, time slips through your fingers like grains of sand. You make progress—each box emptied feels like a small triumph. The living room is next, and though you didn’t bring much, your touch begins to transform the space into something warm, something yours.

The sharp chill of winter sweeps in as the front door swings open, announcing Namjoon and Yoongi’s return. Cold air rushes past them, carrying the earthy scent of snow and fresh groceries. Shoes and coats are shed in a flurry of motion, and Namjoon drags his bags to the counter, while Yoongi mumbles something under his breath—his version of commentary that you’ve long learned to ignore. Yoongi grumbles as he hauls two bags into the kitchen, while Namjoon shoulders four with ease, a playful smirk on his face as he shakes the cold from his hair. Your brother dives into the kitchen, already rifling through drawers to find the pans you just unpacked.

As you help Namjoon sort the groceries, you note their choices: fresh greens, vibrant vegetables, sturdy staples like rice, beans, and coconut milk. Practical and thoughtful, as always. Your brother doesn’t waste time, snapping orders your way to chop this and rinse that. Namjoon, wisely, steers clear of the chaos and retreats to the sofa, knowing better than to tempt fate near a knife.

You and Yoongi move seamlessly, a practiced rhythm born of years of shared meals and unspoken communication. The kitchen fills with the sizzling symphony of cooking: onions crackling, garlic blooming in fragrant waves, and the gentle stir of sauces melding together. The aroma wraps itself around you, warm and grounding, a promise of the meal to come.

When the food is done, the three of you gather at your small round dining table. The plates are filled with comfort—steaming rice, perfectly cooked vegetables, and savory flavors that speak of home. Yoongi hums faintly in approval as he eats, his silence a language of contentment. Namjoon, ever the conversationalist, smiles wide as he asks about the neighborhood. You don’t know much yet, but his enthusiasm fills the gaps.

The meal lingers, rich and satisfying, until the plates are empty and the room carries only the faint scent of what was. They stand to leave, hugs exchanged at the door, their warmth momentarily shielding you from the cold creeping back in. As they drive off, the truck rattling softly into the night, the quiet returns. But this time, it feels different. Not empty.

Your home, though still half-full of boxes, feels alive now, touched by their presence. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Silence settles again, fragile and heavy—except for that faint sound of a guitar, now joined by a man’s voice. It drifts through the stillness, soft and haunting, the kind of melody that reaches into places you didn’t know were aching. From the little you can hear, his voice holds a quiet sorrow, tinged with a beauty that seems almost too fragile for this world. Wrapped in the haze of a full belly and the gentle pull of exhaustion, you sink deeper into the cushions of your couch. The music lulls you, and before you know it, sleep claims you.

When you wake, it’s to the sharp protest of stiff muscles, your body groaning in rebellion. You stretch, long and languid, wincing as you ease into movement. The living room light is still on, casting a warm but tired glow across the scattered boxes. Reaching for your phone, you blink at the screen: Saturday morning.

A sigh escapes you, accompanied by another stretch, your bones clicking softly in protest. As you yawn, the faint strands of music that lulled you to sleep the night before have grown bolder, louder, weaving through the quiet morning air. It’s coming from next door, a melody more insistent now, rising and falling like a tide against your walls.

You pause, half-annoyed, half-curious. Who plays music so loudly on a Saturday morning? Still, it isn’t unpleasant. The sound curls around you, melancholy and mesmerizing, coaxing goosebumps to bloom along your arms.

Shaking off the morning grogginess, you shuffle into the kitchen to make tea, the faint chill of the floor against your bare feet grounding you. As the kettle hums and hisses to life, your attention drifts back to the music. This song, like the one before, carries a sadness that pierces through its beauty, the kind of sorrow that feels personal yet strangely universal.

You sip your tea slowly, the warmth unfurling through your chest, and let the notes wrap around you. The lyrics, muffled but achingly tender, float into your thoughts. A sad love song, you think—heartache distilled into sound.

And then, for a fleeting moment, your mind wanders. Who is your neighbor, and what might they be feeling? It’s hard not to wonder. To play songs like this on a quiet Saturday morning—it speaks of longing, of loss, of someone trying to untangle the knots of their heart.

Exhaustion anchors you to the couch, your body heavy with the weight of weeks spent unpacking, working, and simply trying to adjust. The hours blur together as you let yourself drift, half-lost in the steady stream of music flowing from your neighbor’s house. Sad love songs, one after another, their melodies curling through the air like smoke, filling the silence with their ache. At least your neighbor has good taste; the voice is mesmerizing, familiar, tugging at the edges of your memory. And then it clicks: you’ve heard it before, floating from car radios or playing softly in cafes.  

Nearly two weeks slip by, the days stacked like unopened letters. Despite the proximity, you’ve yet to meet your enigmatic neighbor, though their music has become an unintentional soundtrack to your life. Namjoon, ever the social butterfly, has nudged you more than once to pay them a visit. “Just say hi,” he urged, grinning. But socializing hasn’t exactly been high on your list, not when there are boxes to unpack, deadlines to meet, and your energy drained to its dregs.  

Still, a seed of worry takes root. The songs haven’t changed—still steeped in longing, still carrying that unshakable sadness. Day after day, it’s as if the house next door is exhaling heartbreak. Maybe Namjoon’s right. Maybe you should go introduce yourself, ask about the neighborhood, and gently check if everything’s okay.  

Which is how you find yourself walking up the snow-dusted path to your neighbor’s door, nerves prickling like the winter air against your skin. Their house looms larger than yours, its quiet elegance a subtle reminder of its age and stature. Even the door, frosted glass like your own, feels imposing—a pale barrier between curiosity and the answers waiting behind it.  

Your footsteps crunch softly on the frozen ground as you approach. You hesitate, your breath clouding in the cold, before raising a hand to knock. For good measure, you press the doorbell too, its chime echoing faintly into the stillness.  

And then you wait, heart thrumming in quiet anticipation.  

The music drifts out from the house, faint yet achingly persistent, wrapping around you like the winter chill. You shift on your feet, blowing warmth into your hands, impatient as the cold nips at your nose and fingers. Just as the thought of retreating crosses your mind, the door creaks open.

Your gaze lowers, meeting a pair of wide, brown curious eyes belonging to a little girl. She’s impossibly small, bundled in a sweater too big for her, her dark hair a gentle mess. Her smile, shy but sweet, carries a warmth that momentarily pushes back the frost.

“Hi,” she says, her voice as soft as a whisper of wind through snow-covered trees. She studies you carefully, her head tilting as though trying to puzzle you out.

You return her smile, bending slightly to her level. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I just moved in next door.” A pause, then a gentle laugh. “I was getting a little worried with all the sad music coming from here. Are your parents home?”

Her smile falters, her gaze flickering downward before rising to meet yours again. There’s something heavy in her small expression, far too much for a child her age. “It’s just me and my dad,” she says quietly, her voice tinged with something you can’t quite name.

Your heart clenches at her words, though you don’t fully understand why. She’s so young, so sweet, and yet there’s a fragility to her presence that stirs something protective in you. For a moment, you wonder about her mother, where she might be, what might have happened.

“Is your dad home?” you ask gently, your tone as soft as your smile.

She nods, stepping back into the warm glow of the house. “I’ll go get him. Please wait here,” she says, her words so polite they make you smile again. She scurries off, leaving you at the threshold with the frosty air swirling in around your feet.

As you stand there, you catch glimpses of the house’s interior: the dim light casting long shadows, the faint smell of wood and something floral, and always that music—a bittersweet tune that seeps into every corner.

When she returns, she isn’t alone. A man follows her, his presence filling the doorway.

Your breath catches, your jaw slack as your mind struggles to process the sight before you. You’d expected the father of the sweet little girl to be ordinary, unassuming. But this? This man? He’s a vision pulled straight from the realm of angels.

The first thing you notice is his presence—tall, confident, yet carrying a quiet weariness that tugs at the edges of his posture. He’s dressed simply, but somehow that makes him all the more striking. A plain white t-shirt stretches across his chest, the sleeves rolled just enough to bare sinewy arms, and on his wrist, a faint tattoo peeks out like a secret. His black dress pants sit high on his impossibly small waist, falling loosely down his legs in elegant folds, a sharp contrast to the effortless way he carries himself.

And then there’s his face—soft yet devastatingly sharp, a contradiction of beauty. His jawline is so defined, it looks as if it could carve through stone, and yet his full lips, slightly parted as if mid-thought, ground him in warmth. His eyes—soft brown, tender, and framed by glasses and sleeplessness—pull you in, speaking of long nights and untold stories.

His hair, warm blonde kissed with streaks of brown at the roots, falls in uneven waves, longer in the back. It looks as if it was tousled by the wind or restless fingers, and you can’t help but wonder if he even knows how effortlessly beautiful he is. A few faint birthmarks dot his skin, adding something human to a face that feels otherworldly. As he steps closer, his features soften even more, and your pulse quickens.

“Hi,” he says, his voice a low, soothing melody that sinks into your bones. It’s angelic yet grounded, the kind of sound that lingers, reverberating long after the words are spoken. “What can I do for you?”

For a moment, you forget how to speak, how to breathe, how to exist. All your intentions, your purpose, your very reason for knocking on his door dissolve under the weight of his gaze. You can only stare, unmoored, helplessly captivated.

“This lady said she’s our new neighbor,” the girl chirps beside him, her bright voice cutting through your daze like sunlight through clouds. She looks up at her father with a grin, and he nods, clearing his throat.

He steps closer, extending a hand toward you, the motion deliberate and polite. His hand is warm when it meets yours, soft in a way that belies the calluses at his fingertips—marks of labor, of skill, of a life lived. 

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” he says with a gentle smile, and you realize your heart is racing, thundering in your chest like it’s trying to escape.

“My name is Jimin, and this is my daughter, Hwa-Young,” he says, his voice soft yet resonant, like the distant hum of a melody that refuses to be forgotten. It’s only then that you realize—mortifyingly—that you’re still holding his hand, the warmth of his palm grounding you far too much. With a jolt, you release it, your cheeks burning like embers, the sting of your foolishness wrapping itself around you. This is why you don’t talk to people, you scold yourself silently. You’re a mess. A fool.

The moment blurs, and you barely register Jimin’s words as he politely repeats something—was it your name? Before you can respond, Hwa-Young steps in, her voice clear and chiming with youthful certainty. “Her name is Y/N,” she declares with the pride of someone who’s solved a puzzle.

Jimin smiles, his expression warm enough to melt the frost clinging to your thoughts, and opens the door wider. “Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea, Y/N?”

You nod mutely, words lodged somewhere between your heart and throat. Speaking feels too dangerous; your silence, you hope, can’t betray how tangled your thoughts have become.

Inside, the house welcomes you with a kind of quiet charm. You peel off your coat and shoes, swapping them for a pair of slippers left by the entryway. The hallway leads you into a living room bathed in soft, creamy tones, its minimalist style broken only by the unmistakable fingerprint of family. Children’s drawings hang on the walls in uneven rows, their vibrant colors a stark but beautiful contrast to the muted decor. A small clay sculpture, wobbling slightly on its base, sits proudly on a side table. It feels like stepping into a story—a place where every corner holds a piece of life lived and loved.

Jimin gestures toward the sofa, and you sink into its inviting cushions, the fabric soft against your fingers. Hwa-Young follows, nestling beside you with a quiet familiarity, her presence grounding. From the nearby kitchen, the faint clatter of porcelain and the rustling of tea packets signal Jimin’s quiet movements.

The room feels alive with warmth, not just from the home itself but from the gentle energy of its inhabitants. You take it all in—the way the light filters through the curtains in golden streaks, the faint scent of lavender mingling with the hum of boiling water, and the soft chatter of a child’s imagination as Hwa-Young shows you a paper star she made.

You glance toward the kitchen, where Jimin moves with unhurried grace, and a strange calm settles over you. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected meeting wasn’t such a mistake after all.

“Are you from the city?” Hwa-Young asks, her voice bright with curiosity, her smile tugging at the corners of her youthful face. You nod, mirroring her smile with one of your own.

“Yes, I just moved in about two weeks ago,” you reply, the words tumbling out like snowflakes in the quiet. “How old are you?”

“I just turned ten!” she exclaims, her voice brimming with pride, her grin wide and unrestrained. Somehow, the innocence in her joy stirs something deep within you, a warmth that begins to thaw the cold edges of your weary heart.

“Congratulations,” you say softly, folding your hands in your lap as if to hold the fragile moment still.

Jimin enters the room, carrying two steaming mugs of tea. He sets them gently on the coffee table, the soft clink of ceramic against wood breaking the silence. With effortless grace, he disappears briefly, returning with a glass of water for his daughter. As he takes his seat in a plush chair opposite you, his presence feels both calming and grounding, like the steady rhythm of a familiar song.

“How are you liking the town so far?” he asks, his voice carrying a soothing cadence, as if he’s accustomed to drawing out answers with kindness alone.

Lifting the mug to your lips, you blow softly on the surface of the tea, the fragrant steam curling upward like a wisp of memory. “I like it so far,” you say, your tone reflective, as though you’re still making sense of this new chapter in your life.

The faintest flicker of realization ignites, and you remember the reason for your visit. You set the mug down, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “I haven’t seen much of it yet. Between work and unpacking, I’ve barely had a chance to explore. But, actually…”

He takes another sip of his tea, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger. The delicate curve of his lashes, impossibly long and casting soft shadows on his cheekbones, draws your attention. His lips—pink, full, and unassuming—meet the edge of the mug, and for a brief, absurd moment, you find yourself wondering how something so simple could be so captivating.

What are you even thinking? You shake off the thought, clearing your throat.

“Ah, yes,” you stammer, a little too loudly. “I couldn’t help but notice…” You trail off, grappling for the right words. “I’ve heard a lot of sad songs coming from your house since I moved in, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Like, not…heartbroken or anything?”

Your words hang in the air, an awkward tangle of concern and curiosity, and you silently curse yourself for blurting them out. Was that a question or a statement? Even you aren’t sure.

But then he smiles—a real, genuine smile—and for a split second, his eyes vanish into crescents of warmth. His teeth peek out, slightly crooked, but so charming it nearly takes your breath away. Running a hand through his tousled blonde hair, he chuckles softly, his laugh like a melody in itself.

“Oh, that’s me. I’m the one guilty of all the sad music,” he admits, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that makes you feel at ease despite your earlier awkwardness.

Your brow furrows in thought as you tap your pointer finger against your lips, the name of the voice eluding you. “What’s the name of the artist? I know I’ve heard him on the radio, but I just can’t place it…”

His smile blooms, radiant and unrestrained, his eyes crinkling into crescents of pure light. “That’s me,” he says, a giggle escaping his lips, soft and melodic like the hum of a lullaby.

You blink at him, utterly perplexed, your mind spinning as you try to piece together what he could mean. “Sorry?” you venture hesitantly, hoping for clarity, your confusion painted plainly across your face.

“The artist,” he explains, his voice effortlessly calm and sure, “is Park Jimin. And I’m Park Jimin.”

The name lands in your ears, but it takes a second longer for the meaning to sink in. His daughter bursts into delighted laughter, while you sit frozen, your expression surely something straight out of a cartoon—wide eyes, jaw unhinged, disbelief written all over you.

Your thoughts race, chasing one another in circles. His voice, angelic and hauntingly beautiful, had felt familiar from the moment you heard it. And suddenly, the puzzle clicks into place. The songs—the ones that wrapped around you like a bittersweet embrace—were his. His.

Your eyes dart toward one of the rooms down the hall, where the music had been flowing endlessly up until the moment he greeted you. But now, the silence is palpable, a stillness that confirms your dawning realization. It wasn’t the stereo at all. It was him.

“Daddy, show her a song!” Hwa-Young pipes up, her small voice brimming with excitement as she hops off the couch and scampers toward a room. The door is ajar, revealing a glimpse of equipment and scattered papers.

Jimin’s smile softens, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle invitation. Without a word, he rises and gestures for you to follow. And as though caught in a spell, you do, your curiosity pulling you forward.

His studio is a world unto itself—a symphony of black and white, sleek lines, and personal chaos. Guitars in all shapes and sizes line the walls, their polished bodies gleaming under soft light. A microphone stands at attention, its cable curling like a lifeline to the scattered pages of sheet music littering the desk and floor.

It’s not just a room; it’s a glimpse into his soul, a sanctuary of sound and vulnerability. You can’t help but let your gaze linger, taking in the effortless beauty of it all.

Hwa-Young leaps onto the couch with a boundless energy that only a child can muster, the cushions bouncing under her weight. She pats the spot beside her, a silent invitation laced with an innocent warmth. You accept, settling in as Jimin crosses the room with a quiet confidence, his every movement purposeful yet unassuming. He retrieves an acoustic guitar, its wood glowing faintly under the soft overhead light, and perches on a nearby stool.

“Play her that new song, dad,” Hwa-Young beams, her voice lilting with pride and affection. She leans back into the couch, her tiny frame dwarfed by its embrace, but her presence fills the room.

Jimin nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips, and then his fingers meet the strings. A single strum reverberates, low and tender, a sound that seems to dissolve the walls and pull you into a different world. 

And then he sings.

His voice flows like a stream over smooth stones—gentle, searching, yet laced with a fragile ache. Feather-light and haunting, it brushes against you, delicate as a whisper yet powerful enough to root you in place. “We never met, but she’s all I see at night.Never met but she’s always on my mind.Wanna give her the world,And so much more.Who is my heart waiting for?If every day I think about her,Yeah, every day of my life.Then tell me why I haven’t found her.”

Each note hangs in the air like a secret meant only for this moment, for you, for the stillness that has settled over the room. Your mind empties, swept clean by the sheer beauty of his voice, each syllable carrying raw emotion that you can’t help but feel, though it’s not your story to claim.

You watch him, this man who pours his heart so freely before a stranger, as if vulnerability were as natural as breathing. His fingers dance over the strings with practiced ease, but it’s the weight in his voice—the yearning, the quiet pain—that lingers in your chest.

A flicker of a question rises, unbidden, as you take in the scene—a renowned singer-songwriter, his talent unmistakable, living humbly in this crappy and cheap neighborhood. Why here? Why this place, when his voice alone could carry him anywhere? But the question dissipates as quickly as it forms, lost in the tide of his music. At this moment, none of it matters.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv

→ Series taglist: @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @hnnnjm @flaneuseonthestreets @miniesjams32 @graydolan12

→ Author’s endnote: soooo?? Tell me everything! What do you think about Jimin? Is he stealing your heart yet, or is it his adorable daughter who’s totally got you wrapped around her tiny finger? 👀💜 And don’t even get me started on what’s coming next... are you excited? Nervous? Ready to cry?? Because trust me, the next chapter has all the feels™. Let’s hear your thoughts—I’m dying to know!

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story ����

[avocadorablepirate]

Beneath The Surface - 1

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: When memories, buried deep within your sea of emotions, resurface, you’re left to question what lies beneath the surface. Did he truly mean to leave you behind, or was there something more to his silence than you ever understood?

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, OP spoilers

previous | next

So I haven’t properly proofread this chapter…been a bit sick this past week, but I was determined to post this part today. It’s not terrible though 🤔…I think.

You had locked yourself up in your room, claiming to be unwell. The truth was simpler: your mind had been consumed by memories you thought you had buried. Memories of him. The boy who once soothed your pain had become the man responsible for it.

He left me behind.

That thought replayed in your head, each repetition sinking deeper into your chest. Just the image of his face brought a sickening churn of emotions — hurt, betrayal, anger, and a flicker of something you refused to name.

The soft knock on your door is what finally drew your attention away from your thoughts. On the other side of the door stood Viola, a small but gentle smile on her face when she found you sprawled on your bed.

“I heard you were feeling sick, everything okay?” she asked, as she made her way further into your bedroom.

“Yeah, nothing a good day’s rest won’t cure,” you responded, and her lips immediately contorted into a frown.

“Then you’re not going to be too happy about this.” Her voice softened, tinged with regret. “Doflamingo needs you.”

You sighed, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Of course he needs me. You didn’t know why you ever thought you’d be able to get a day to yourself, it had rarely occurred before.

“Of course he does,” you muttered under your breath, setting aside the book you had been pretending to read.

Viola gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. If it were up to me, I'd let you rest."

You forced a smile, appreciating her kindness. "It's okay. Thanks, Viola."

She nodded, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever Doflamingo had in store.

The walk to his room felt long and unpleasant as always. The entire palace always made you uncomfortable, its grandeur a stark contrast to the simpler, slightly happier times of your childhood. It was also a reminder of the life you once lived along side your parents, and without him to console you over those memories, it only brought more pain.

But it hadn’t always been like this. You remember when you first moved in, though a palace, it had a comforting and almost cozy feel to it. However, Doflamingo had made drastic changes, his reason being that the Donquixote family should live in a place that befitted them.

You had tried to get him to let you live outside the palace, the discomfort it brought had been too much at first. But Doflamingo insisted that the entire Donquixote family stay within the palace walls. And that’s why you had tried to make your own room as comfortable as possible. However, that had done little to help. With how often Doflamingo made you run around doing errands for him, or insisted that he watch over you, there was barely any time to relax.

As you gave a soft knock against the heavy wooden doors, to let Doflamingo know you had arrived, you pushed it open to find him standing by the window, his back turned to you as you entered.

“You summoned me, Doffy?" you called out, as you slowly made your way towards him, the atmosphere of the room always making you feel uneasy. It was as if the room itself embodied his very being - intimidating and frightening.

He turned on hearing your voice, a smile plastered on his face. "Ah, my little Rose there you are. Feeling better, I hope?"

You nodded, knowing the question was nothing more than a pleasantry. "What do you need?"

His smile widened, and an eerie chill ran down your spine. "I have a special task for you. I need you to retrieve someone for me."

You frowned, confused by his unforeseen happiness. You had heard there was an incident at Punk Hazard, and although you didn’t know the details, you knew Doflamingo had been beyond enraged. It was another reason why you had chosen to stay in your room, to avoid his temper. So, his uncharacteristic cheerfulness almost baffled you.

“Who?” you questioned, although you had an inkling of who it might be.

“Caesar,” he said simply, his tone light but his eyes watching your reaction closely. “I’m sure you’ve heard, there’s been some...issues. I want you to bring him back from Greenbit."

A wave of confusion hit you once again. “Why me?”

It wasn’t like him to send you on retrieval missions. While you had been privy to fights and conflicts, you had never been a fan of them, and Doflamingo knew this. It was why you mainly ran around doing tasks within the palace. He had called it “protection,” but you had always suspected he thought you too soft-hearted for the darker work.

It had happened before, when you were younger and out on a mission. He had nearly lost you then, and he wouldn’t have it happen again.

“I’ve decided you need to be involved in these matters as well. You can’t be the only one who doesn’t get involved, it’s not fair to you. ” A cold knot of dread formed in your stomach when you saw Doflamingo's eyes glint dangerously. You had thought that you would be able to stay away from such tasks given your temperament, but that had clearly changed.

“But why now?” you asked, and you could feel your heart rate pick up when Doflamingo gave you an almost sinister smile.

“We’re short on people. The pirates who attacked Punk Hazard killed Monet, so we need as much backup as we can get. Plus, the others think you need to start doing your bit,” he said, almost nonchalantly, as if the death of one of his comrades didn’t bother him at all. But you brushed it off, subconsciously convincing yourself it was his way of dealing with grief. “And I think this would be the perfect opportunity to test you Rosie.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. You had always known that the latest additions to the Donquixote family, all but Viola, did not like the almost favouritism that Doflamingo showed - always tasking you with the simpler jobs. This was your chance to prove your worth, and finally get them off your case. Besides, what harm would come from a simple retrieval mission?

"Alright, Doffy. I’ll bring Caesar back."

He smiled, a satisfied gleam in his eyes, almost akin to a predator satisfied with its prey. "Good. And remember, I expect nothing less than success."

As you stepped out into the hall, your resolve wavered slightly, the enormity of the task ahead settling in.

So caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that someone had walked by you into the room. The shutting of the door is what finally drew you out of your thoughts and you briefly glanced back, the voices within the room, a stark reminder of the life you had chosen.

You shook off the unease and focused on the task at hand. Whatever doubts you had, you pushed them aside. There was no room for weakness. You had a mission to complete, and you would do it with all the strength you could muster. For the town you now called home and the people you called family.

As you walked away, the voices in the room grew distant, and you missed out on listening in on a conversation that would have likely saved you from your impending misfortune.

“Doffy why are you sending her to retrieve Caesar?”

Despite his recent misfortune, another sinister smile spread across Doflamingo’s face. “It’s about time I test her abilities. And who better than Law to be the test subject?”

—————

Part 1 done! I feel like I may have included some unnecessary bits here and there, but oh well. I hope you liked it. Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist.

taglist: @riftmage27

[musings-of-a-rose]

My First, My Last, My Always - a PedroStories Secret Santa Exchange Event

Pairing: Francisco “Frankie” Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 2751

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: @prolix-yuy My beloved LJ - when I got your name, I literally squeed! And then felt an immediate sense of “omg will I be able to write something worthy of her?” I thought and thought about what to write for you and then I had it. I have had this idea for a Frankie fic since I started posting back in late 2021, but I’d never written it. I even had a name for it and a plot line! Now I know it’s because I was saving it for you. Have a very happy whatever you celebrate and know that not only are you extremely talented, you are one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

**This is for the PedroStories Secret Santa exchange event!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

I met Frankie when we were 5. I had just moved to the neighborhood, in the middle of summer. Which meant no school, so no way to make friends. A few days later, as my parents were unpacking, I sat on the couch, leaning on the back of it to stare out the front window. To my surprise, on the front porch of the house across the street from me sat a boy. He had his head in his hands and looked a little sad and lonely, his brown hair and loose curls sticking at odd angles, like he had woken up and come outside. 

“Mom, can I go say hi to the boy across the street?” I ask, already getting off the couch. 

My dad glances through the front window, seeing the boy on the steps. “Sure. See if he wants to play soccer.” He tosses me a soccer ball that he had just unpacked, which I miss. 

I grab it and head outside, walking straight towards the boy. He doesn’t seem to pay me any mind until I’m on his lawn. He looks up at me, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“Hi!” I say, smiling at him. 

“H-hi,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowing together.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Do you want to play soccer?”

He sniffs. “Yeah, sure.” He stands, coming to meet me in his yard. We end up just kicking the ball back and forth for a minute. His shoulders are still slumped, like he’s carrying something heavy. I stop the ball with my foot, taking a step closer to him.

“Are you ok?” I ask, my face full of concern.

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbles. 

“It’s ok if you’re sad. I am too,” I confess. He looks at me, cocking his head.

“You’re sad?”

I nod. “Yeah. We just moved here. My dad got a new job. I had to leave my friends.”

He nods. “Sorry about your friends.”

I shrug. “Thanks. So are you ok?”

He looks at his house and then back at me, coming closer. “I don’t even know you.”

I tell him my name. “But call me Rea.”

“Frankie….my parents fight a lot. Sometimes it’s too loud. I come out here to get some quiet.”

“Oh. Well, if you want, you can come over to my house whenever you need to get away.”

His eyes widen, filling with a light I hadn’t seen yet. “I can? You mean it?”

I nod, a smile forming on my face. “Yeah! We can play games, my mom makes great snacks, and my dad is building me a treehouse soon!”

From that day on, Frankie and I were inseparable. We lucked out in being placed in the same classroom that fall, Frankie taking me on a tour of the school. He told me what bathrooms were stinky and what kids were mean. He came over pretty much every day, my parents taking an immediate liking to him when I came back home with him. I did overhear them saying something about that poor boy, but they never complained. Frankie was there for family game night, pizza night, and movie nights. My parents took him to the county fair with us, the zoo, and our weekly trips to the library, where I would get every book they had on drawing and Frankie would pick out books on flying. He once told me he wanted to be a pilot. 

Middle school is pretty much the first time we spent away from each other, since some of our classes were different. He took shop and I took art, trying to hone my skills as an artist as it brought me so much joy. I don’t know how I would’ve survived middle school without his presence, his strength to help me through a really rough transition time. He would claim it was all me supporting him, but I think we just work well together.

In 8th grade, Frankie came over for pizza night as usual, us heading out into our treehouse after to hangout and watch a movie on a tv I had carted up there with a long extension cord. It had a vhs player in it and so we would watch whatever we could rent. We settled down and got comfortable, a bowl of popcorn between us. 

“Hey, Rea?” Frankie looks nervous, not quite looking at me. 

“Yeah?” My words are garbled because of the popcorn in my mouth.

He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “Have you kissed anyone yet?”

I stop chewing. I had wondered if the boys talked like the girls, as that’s all they could talk about. Kissing boys. I hadn’t thought about it at all, until it felt like I was the only girl who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

“Uh…no. You?” My stomach fluttered like it had butterflies in it and I didn’t know why. 

“N-no.” We sat there for a moment, the movie continuing on in the background. “Maybe we could kiss each other? So we could say we did it?”

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t felt like this before, other than the time Frankie took my hand at the fair and guided me through the haunted mansion that we’d been through a dozen times a few weeks back. 

“Oh. Uh, y-yeah.” 

Frankie sits up, finally looking at me. “You sure? I just thought since we knew each other it wouldn’t be weird.”

I sit up too. “Yeah. Makes sense.” 

After a few awkward body shifts, he pressed his lips to mine and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. And when he broke the kiss I’ll admit, I was more than a little sad. His face still close to mine, he gave me a small smile, those dimples on display.

“There. Now we’ve each kissed someone.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but that first kiss was when things changed, I think. We started high school that next year, our schedules separating us further. Frankie joined ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps) and I joined the art club, my parents surprising me with private instruction from a local artist that I admired. We still saw each other at lunch, and he was still over at our house more often than not, these days more because of whomever his mom was currently dating. But everything felt…different. I brushed it off, not knowing how to put it into words.

Then, our senior year, Frankie came to me with another proposition. Neither of us had been intimate with someone else, and who better than someone we know and trust? The boys had been talking about it and the girls had definitely been talking about it. I wasn’t against the idea of sex. I just never got around to it. So when Frankie proposed the idea at our weekly movie after pizza night, I agreed, that familiar butterflies in my stomach feeling coming flooding back. 

In true Frankie fashion, he came prepared and had studied. He set up the treehouse with extra cushions and candles, putting flowers everywhere, with some music in the background. He already knew about protection and knew how to use it, shyly admitting he had asked his friend Santi how to put one on. Frankie was gentle with me, making sure I was ok as we both shared this experience. After, we laid together in the blankets, Frankie holding me to his side as his fingers traced the skin on my hip, both of us content to just be with the other. 

Things didn’t technically change between us, aside from another romp or 2 in the hay, so to speak. I didn’t understand why he never asked me out until a couple months later, when he told me he signed up for the army. 

“Go to college, Rea. Get that art degree and make millions off your drawings. You’re amazing.”

And while I shed many tears, I did just as he asked, even driving him to the airport on his way to basic, where he gently kissed me and told me to live my life, but don’t forget to write. 

I wrote to Frankie often, chronicling my college life as he told me about his, once his time in basic training was up. We still had weekly calls where I would tell him about my drawings, and he would tell me animatedly about learning to fly helicopters and also that his friend Santi was with him too. 

I was the first one he told about going for a special forces group, Delta Force, and his acceptance there. Santi’s too. Sometimes it would be a few weeks between us chatting, but I understood. He was dealing with literal life and death scenarios. Or at least preparing for them. 

I picked him up every time he came home from tour, sometimes with a girl on his arm. I’ll admit the first time I saw it, a part of me envisioned leaping on the poor girl and tearing her eyes out. But I had remind myself that he was overseas and I’m sure it gets lonely and I’m glad he had someone to comfort him, no matter how much I wished it was me. I dated too after that, the longest one sticking around for about 8 months before I caught him cheating on me with his secretary. Which is incredibly cliche of him. 

I eventually graduated with an art history degree, getting a job at a local art gallery and selling my own drawings on the side. It was a pretty awesome deal, getting to work and do the thing that I love. I sometimes worry it would end badly, mixing business with pleasure. But it ended up being the opposite. 

Frankie and I still talked, but over the years our calls became less and less frequent. Sometimes I was away on an art bid and other times he was on a mission, gone for weeks at a time. He would still check in from time to time to at least let me know he was alive. His absence left a hole in my heart though. He was my one constant through life, the person I could share anything with, my first for a lot of things. The few words we did exchange helped me to get to the next call, which I know is unhealthy, but not matter what I did, I couldn’t fill the void he left behind. 

Present Day

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” My mom asks me for the millionth time. 

I chuckle into the phone. “YES mom. You guys won a cruise! Go celebrate Christmas on the high seas. I’ll come visit when you get back.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I- no! You will absolutely NOT be wearing a speedo on the cruise! Rea I have to go talk some sense into your father. We’ll call you when we get back.”

I laugh this time. “Have fun mom.” In the background before I hang up, I hear my father playfully yell. “Hey! Give me back my man panties!”

My laugh turns into a sigh as I look around my condo. I had been packing to head to my parent’s home in the morning to spend Christmas Day and a few days after with them. I unpack and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of steaks to rest before cooking them. I’ll make extra and then not have to cook on Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. I make some hot chocolate and settle on my couch, a thick Christmas themed blanket thrown over my legs. I’m about to take a sip when I hear a knock at my door. I set my mug down and toss the blanket off. My neighbor is a little senile and sometimes locks herself out of her apartment. In one of her clear moments, she gave me a spare key to let her into hers, in case it was during a time when her nurse wasn’t around. I unlock the door and open it, her name poised on my lips. But instead I’m met with the biggest, brown puppy dog eyes that I’ve ever seen. 

“Hey, Rea. You’re home.”

Shocked. I am stunned. “I..y-yeah. So are you?” Nice. Good one. 

He smile, those dimples showing off as he rubs at the back of his head, the Standard Oil Heating cap I’d given him from our road trip across the state still on top. “Yeah.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Can I come in?”

“What? Oh. Yeah! Come in.” I step back to let him in, giving him extra space for the bag slung on his back. He sets it down just inside the door, kicking off his boots too. 

“Are you ok?” I ask him, noting the scar on the bridge of his nose and a fresh cut on his cheek. 

“I am now.” Silence between us, like we haven’t talked our entire lives. Although it had been a few months since I’d spoken to him, outside of my unanswered letters. 

“Did you want some-” I start, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point towards the kitchen. 

“I almost died.”

A hole opened in my stomach and my heart fell right into it. “What?”

He nods, taking the cap from his head to wring it between his hands, but not before running his fingers through those soft brown curls. “I can’t give you details. Classified. But I almost died. I mean, I saved us all, but if I hadn’t moved my head…”

“Oh Frankie!” I throw my arms around him, the time that we hadn’t talked dissolving in an instant. His arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my hair. 

“I love you, Rea.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

“No,” He takes a breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Those familiar butterflies that only he seems to put there come back, like they’d never left. I break the hug and take a step back, trying to look at his face. Surely he’s kidding right? This is all some joke that I don’t understand?

“We were spiraling and the engines wouldn’t cut back on and all I could think about was you. How I had this amazing friend in my life for most of my life who never judged me for where I came from or what I wore, who always supported me no matter what, who let me get pineapple on my pizza even though she hated it just because she knows I like it. She always saw me for me. And how I was so fucking stupid for never seeing it before and yet, somehow knowing I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss. I made a promise that if I got out of there alive, the first thing I’d do is come tell you, in person how I feel. And I know it’s sudden, and I know you may not even feel the same. Hell, I don’t know if you even have a boyfriend. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I-”

I grip his shirt and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he doesn’t move, shocked by my reply. But then he snaps out of it, his hands coming up to cup my face as he presses his tongue against my lips. I part mine every slightly, whimpering slightly when he pushes his tongue past my lips. One hand drops from my face, outstretched behind me as he walks me backwards, his hand hitting the wall before he pushes me up against it, that same hand cupping my face again before tracing down my body to squeeze at my hip. I wrap my leg around him, pulling him closer as my fingers tangle in his soft curls. But then he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes. 

“I take it this means you feel the same?” He’s smiling, but he’s also serious. 

“I’ve been waiting for this since our first kiss. But I don’t think I understood it then.”

Frankie groans. “What a stupid couple of assholes.” We chuckle together, his nose brushing against mine. 

He smiles, his eyes getting that big puppy eye look to them. “So you’ll be my first and my last?”

I smile back. “As long as you’re mine.”

Within a few months, we’re married. Our first, our last, and our always.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi  

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso  

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[starlet-orchids]

ok ok eden garden chapter 1 rant and afterthoughts (spoilers for all of the chapter here)

WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN GOD

I def want to write my afterthoughts on this cause it has seriously ruined my whole mind rn

First I did the daily life on one day and the trial on the next so in the middle of the night, I had a whole dream that Diana was the killer and so when the trial said it was Diana I was like: OH WAS MY DREAM RIGHR??? (Ofc it wasnt)

GOD RHE DIANA AND DAMON PARALLELS ARE PARALLEING TOO BTW. I can not describe better than others have but god I cant

I really will miss the damon wolfgang dynamic, I did one of his fte and I found it so admirable how he def did want to help everyone and even if he had a mild dislike for Damon and Eva, he was willing to cooperate ig?? And also how Damon mentioned he challenged him to do better, god I love me some challenge rivals I will miss them

Damon and Kai were also super funny. I didnt like Kai too much in the prologue but I started warming up to him in chapter 1, he is very goofy and just a guy. I cant hate him too much for that

My other fav damon dynamics going on were with Cassidy and Toshiko each. Cassidy and Damon are a powerduo, they bicker but they get stuff done quick. Toshiko and Damon also are so sibs, I died when I first saw the mochi nickname btw. I hope to see them be siblings more, I am grateful for their content.

Now the elephant in the room of Damon and Eva. Ok uhm. Eva had so so much characterization here its crazy. Eva slowly revealing her true self to others after getting exposed, showing how her ult liar front was just a facade in order to not be seen as lower. She def has a bad complex cause of her past (watch her ftes), she hates being seen as low and nothing human so because of that, has become blind to people who do care. She was willing to sacrifice everyone cause she thought no one trusted her at all in any way. I think she targeted Wolfgang cause of how he was the main one who was singling her out from the rest. She was bitter towards him and everyone who followed him the entire time compared to Damon. Damon acknowledged it but subconsiosly allowed himself to build trust with the rest. Why else would he start defending Diana after being the one to start accusing her? He recognized the kindness she had given to him that had no tone of pity. Meanwhile Eva couldnt see the help with no strings attached from Diana and so decided to frame her otherwise.

Eva and Damon friendship is so sweet, they both were excluded and dislike being seen lower/less than their peers. The way Damon cried after her execution even after she admitted to not believing the care and trust she had recieved from them all. The irony on how Eva pointed out the most likely to kill were the ultimates and yet she starts the game.

Hm other stuff I would like to say last now are that the cgs are cute, the grace wolfgang stuff is so crazy and I cant not wait for the next chapters if chapter 1 was willing to pull smth like this alrdy!! The pacing of the daily life and the trial were quite reasonable and the banter was so silly to read, I enjoyed it a ton for sure

Also I could write a whole Eva analysis but I suck at wording stuff, please tell me if I should write one tbh.

ok thats all of it, have a guess at who my favs are after reading all of this. Thank you for reading if you did!!!

[loopyn3]

Great God Grove spoilers/character discussion ahead!

And some spoiler-y doodles

About Hector because of course it’s about him.

His entire arc is just so melancholic and tragic,

If I may, I’ve been taking a sort of deeper look into his mental goop so-to-speak, and I feel like his jealousy/anger surrounding King can be read in a lot of different contexts. It almost seems like it didn’t stop at simply King being the hot new thing and him being nervous he’d lose his place, but more so the idea that King didn’t have to change all that much about herself to be as deified as she seems. From what we know she’s very confident with herself, her God form even being pretty faithful to how she looks as a human(mentioned in the art book which you should totally go buy, it’s so lovely seeing all the concept art and the commentary is such a treat :]).

Meanwhile it’s kind of implied that Hector really had to claw his way up the spire, working tirelessly to help people, yes, but also to earn his place amongst the gods. He’s stressed out of his mind, he’s always working- I really can’t imagine he was all that stable to begin with in terms of self-identity/worth.

Plus, most if not all his relationships seem to be tied to this one purpose. I can’t imagine the thought of “if I fail I won’t have anything or anybody to go back to.” hasn’t crossed his mind AT LEAST once.

I reblogged a post showing screenshots of Robart and Peeps talking about how, as a human, he tended to act concerningly selflessly, almost seeming desperate. That really doesn’t come across as a normal reaction to just wanting to do good by people, at least not in a ‘normal’ capacity.

Hector, to me at least, comes across as a very self-critical guy. He’s always striving to do good by others… but also to be praised and adored by them. I can only imagine after so many years of toiling away, feeling that pressure building more and more to do well, spending years of his life hoping that he’ll be voted in that he’s sort of lost a piece of himself to this whole process? Something something ship of Theseus.

There’s this thing that happens when a project consumes your life, when it almost seems like your entire life’s purpose is built around this one thing that, once it’s done, it really doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything. What’s left is this sort of numb emptiness, the absence of said purpose.

What are you supposed to do, then? Now that it’s over? Is there anything left for you to do?

Did you even have a purpose in the first place?

So you desperately grasp for new projects, trying to find anything to fill that ever present void that just seems to never go away no matter how many sleepless nights you spend working and working and working-

Or maybe I’m reading too deep into it teehee

Point is, Hector is just so important he is my reason to wake up in the morning he means so much to me asjfkkfksfc ;;;;;

[sprinklenoodles]

Even more Stone thoughts! Like before, this contains spoilers of Sonic 3, so beware!

One thing I really wished we saw more of in the movies is a real villain Stone. Like, the Stone we se in the prequill comics and part of Sonic 1- at least, his first scene in there.

Like, this is Stone in the prequill comics:

It's a far cry from the Stone we see in the movies because Robotnik isn't there. Sure, technically he's still following Robotnik's orders, but he's acting like this because he wants to.

As I've mentioned in a previous post, he's almost just as evil as Robotnik. And I think it sucks that we didn't really get that in the third movie.

Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing Stone care about Robotnik and just a bit more of their relationship, but I also wished we got more Stone. More of that motorcycle scene.

Like, Stone isn't a silly dude. He's an evil genius and I just want to see more of that. Sometimes it just feels like the movies... forget that. They'll give us one cool scene and then nothing else like that for the rest of the movie.

And sure, that has to do with how different he is around Robotnik, but I do just want more of that. He is cold and calculating and I want to see more of that. He's with Robotnik for a reason after all.

Who knows. Maybe we'll get a Stone series soon. That would just be absolutely awesome... and even if we don't, we still have fanfics. I'll for sure be writing one like I've mentioned in my other posts!

Gonna be some cool villain Stone who wants revenge! And some Stobotnik too, though that will be very much one-sided... in the beginning at least.

That's all for this time tho. Still have a bunch of Stone things I want to talk about, but that's for another time!

[raichukfm]

I played Undertale recently. My favorite character is Chara. No, I didn't kill anybody. I am going to go on about them, now.

Spoilers for Undertale, all the routes. "It came out nearly a decade ago!" Yeah and I first played it last week and was happily surprised by the sheer amount of things I hadn't been spoiled on, so. Have a courtesy warning! Also courtesy warning: Too many fucking words. I'm sorry.

As a preface: Undertale really genuinely touched me. I bring this up as a preface because I think it's important to why it is exactly I feel how I feel, and that is important to how I perceived Chara.

And it having such an impact honestly surprised me; Undertale seemed cute and fun but silly and something I had felt… prepared for? Like, inadvertently, from hearing about it and its characters for so long. And for some parts early on, I was, at least in part. I liked Sans and Papyrus from the start, but in the way that I liked a gimmick, and it took time for the enjoyment to get more and more… not genuine, it already was, but I can't find the word I'm looking for. I guess it struck me with less artificiality? It started actually getting to me. This was happening throughout the whole length of things, like, I really genuinely liked Toriel basically from the start, but the farther in I got the more it was happening. Actually, looking back, the intro cinematic really hit for me in a way that should have clued me in that this game was going to get me.

Because I really connected with Chara as the character I was playing as, to an extent that honestly really surprised me? It felt emotionally resonant. Admittedly, naming Chara the way that I did probably did a fair amount of lifting there; I used a nickname of mine that isn't used that often. I think that hit more than it would have if I had used one of my first names, since it was distant enough to easily have differentiation while also close enough to feel so immediately personal. Chara is someone where most things with them are up to interpretation, but I just had a specific interpretation readily and naturally come to me.

Of course, I knew the Chara and Frisk distinction beforehand, and that informed my interpretation pretty heavily; but I hadn't really heard much of anything about Chara other than the Genocide Route stuff, prior. I mostly saw them treated as like some pure evil nasty may-as-well-have-been-demon. I hadn't been reading like narraChara theories or anything (amazing name, 10/10 whoever coined it). I just landed there naturally. When Undertale was giving the early hints that Chara had actually come before the human you played as, like in the garbage dump, it only amplified those feelings.

My read was that I as the player I was, largely, controlling Frisk's actions, but seeing Chara's thoughts. Every time I saw or heard memories, they were Chara's. But I don't think Chara was in control of the body or anything. I think Chara was there tagging along as an observer, at first not sure what exactly was happening or understanding why; but linked to Frisk's SOUL and so having Frisk's feelings resonate through them. So, they decided to help. They not only lent their lingering Determination but also just tried to help Frisk stay determined in the normal sense. But that was what they were doing: Not acting, but watching Frisk's actions and feeling their feelings.

And in my playthrough, Frisk was a dogged pacifist who was very reluctant to even slightly hurt anyone and very willing to put themselves into terrible danger because of that. And I think seeing that, feeling the feelings behind it resonating with them, made Chara a better person. A profoundly better person. Just in itself, the way it would anyone, but… Here's an example of the best of humanity, that same humanity they despised. Here's someone willing to refuse violence even if it puts them at risk of dying, even actually dying once before they discovered they could LOAD even after death, if they remained determined. Someone who again and again and again takes attacks and doesn't fight back unless it's absolutely necessary, who sees a whole people that have time and time again just tried to callously kill them and keeps choosing to help them. To trust them, and reach out to them, again and again and again, and who each time is proven right. Even when there's nothing to reach out to but dead human children whose SOULs had been absorbed for power by an entity whose power was represented in their SAVE by the highest numbers expressible there.

I think seeing all of that really challenged Chara's worldview in general and view of humanity in particular. I think they understood that they had been wrong, and done wrong.

And then Frisk goes back one more time to set things right and save everyone. Chara is there experiencing what Frisk is feeling as they go through that lab, as they learn about Determination... when they find those videotapes and learn about how Chara died intentionally, hoping to wreak violence on humanity and then break the Barrier. And Chara learns that Flowey was their adoptive brother, all along. Sees with what must be horror what has become of sweet little Asriel, knowing that this only happened because of then. Understanding what Asriel chose in the end, why he chose it, and now seeing what trying to make up for that 'mistake' had done to him. And Chara sees Frisk try so hard to save him, even after everything he's done, just because he's another person. And Chara does everything they can to help Frisk, together mustering enough Determination to deny death itself, as many times as needed, until Frisk does it. Reaches out to Asriel and helps him to get over what happened enough to stop fighting, to start to heal, to give up on godhood... To use a moment of unity to bring down the Barrier without needing to hurt anyone else.

And Chara watched their brother realize that Frisk isn't them, and that that is good. That Frisk is a better person, and one whom Asriel wishes he could have had in his life before, as he admits to himself that Chara wasn't a good person. And Chara lets go. They let Frisk and everyone else go to their happy ending, while they stay behind.

And then Asriel and Chara have one last moment, in the game. Chara comes back and Asriel, even once again lacking a SOUL, cares enough about everyone else to ask Chara to let them be happy, to not tear them away from everything. But Asriel doesn't trust Chara, and so asks that if they are going to rip them out of their happy ending… do it to him too. Don't make him sit through everything repeating. Don't make him become deadened all over again by seeing everything play out over and over and over again in countless variations. And then he imagines that this exchange has happened again and again and again and Chara must be tired of hearing it. Because that is what Chara would do, isn't it?

But Chara doesn't say anything. Maybe they can't, maybe they just choose not to. Instead, they let their brother say goodbye to them. And then they choose to let go. Chara couldn't be the one to save Asriel; it had to be Frisk. Once Frisk has... What waits for them and their brother… I don't know. But I hope they can be happy. I hope they got their closure. And, maybe vainly, I hope they can find some way to have each other again, but healthily this time. But that's for them, not for me. Maybe one or both choose to let go entirely and fade away, return to the death that had once taken them. All I've got is hopes for the future of these people that aren't even real.

Immersion is a powerful thing, huh?

...

So, about the Genocide Route. There's a lot of characterization for Chara there, and some for Asriel too. I know people tend to read the Genocide Route as Chara taking Frisk over and unleashing their preexisting violent impulses, but I really don't think that's right. I don't think that route shows what Chara was like before much at all. I think the Genocide Route is what happens when Chara finds themselves brought back from the pall of death, given some sort of second chance, and all they can do in it is watch Frisk murder everyone they encounter. When they see their mother get murdered in cold blood, and can feel how little Frisk cared about her while doing it. When all they can feel when it happens is that sick sense of pleasure at an accomplishment. When they're forced to find some kind of meaning in that, some reason for why they were brought back and made to be complicit in this, some purpose to this existence.

And they find it. They find it in their idea of numerical invincibility, and they cling to it. And they are abraded down until all that's left of them is their worst impulses stripped of context, magnified, and then redefined under the light of this 'purpose'… and that sick sense of accomplishment. More and more, Chara wears down to this thing that only cares about power and violence, and more and more Chara loses their sense of distinction from Frisk, sees these actions as their own; or maybe they become more and more able to exert control of the actions as they redefine themselves to be better at wielding power. Either way, Chara murders their father. Chara murders their brother. Then Chara destroys humanity, not even out of hatred, but simply for the sake of power. They destroy all the monsters they missed, too. Only power matters; the gaining of it, and also the exercise of it for its own sake. The only thing they don't destroy is Frisk, their reliable partner, the one who showed them their purpose. The one they are perversely grateful to, but will betray the moment it suits them, now that they have the power to do so.

I've heard a lot about how this is criticism of RPG players, and I can see that but more and more I don't think that the purpose of this is to moralize, or at least that that's not the only purpose. Because this shows Chara become their worst self, this epitome of power in a husk of a person. Someone who wasn't a great person from the start falls to horrific depths. And then they can't climb back out. You can't help them out. Chara defines themselves as Numbers Go Up because after all this trauma from the first moment that their plan went awry and Asriel held back their powers, and they both died a second time… All they have refuge in is that belief in invincibility. Chara believes you can escape suffering if you become the strongest thing in the world. And so Chara does just that. And it's all they can hold onto, because it's the only thing holding them together.

But really they're just another lost soul who you no longer have the power to save or comfort or bring positive emotions to, someone tricking themselves into thinking they're an unfeeling demon beyond sentimentality just to feel like they have some control, so they can delight in exercising power over others without guilt or regret.

Frisk can give them their SOUL and Chara doesn't change, doesn't really feel anything more, no matter what Frisk shows them. Because they've closed their heart to those feelings. You can't take this back. You can't save them. They're the only person you can't save. Sometimes, when you hurt people you make them worse and you can't be the one to help them after that. And you can't cheat. Whatever you do… Chara remembers it. You can't just take it back, can't do it over. You can only look on in horror at what Chara has become and accept or deny your fault in it.

In the Pacifist Route… I think Chara feels something like that when learning that Flowey was Asriel all along, and knowing it was their fault.

It's easy to blame what Asriel became on the lack of his SOUL. But I really believe that's not what it was. Maybe that does dull feelings, but you don't need a SOUL to love, to care. We see that, with Asriel-as-Flowey asking Chara to leave the others to their happy ending. We can see it in how Chara, at their worst, gets a SOUL and gets no better. How Chara, with a SOUL, does not understand the sentimentality still held by the player who has already given up theirs. Flowey didn't become a monster because of the lack of his SOUL. He was a traumatized little kid who couldn't get his life back, couldn't get his sibling back, but had the power to evade consequences and abused it to try and cope until it further wore down his ability to care. So he retreated to seeing things as less than real to cope with it all, resorted to cruelty and vindictiveness just to feel something.

Where Asriel as Flowey makes a performative show of his petty cruelty and vindictiveness, Chara dresses it up with dispassion and a veneer of objective judgement. But, deep down? They're the same. If you don't let yourself feel anything you can't be hurt.

The Genocide Route isn't some creepypasta about a demon taking over an innocent. Nothing so convenient as that. Because the point is that you choose to do it. You do it, and you choose it every step of the way, and only at the very very end does it become too late to turn back. So it fits it better, I think, if it's not about Chara corrupting Frisk... But about you corrupting Chara. Whether that you is Frisk, or you the player, you make someone who was a bad person to start with so much worse.

Asriel was pressured and manipulated by Chara and became a worse person for it, and then retreated to the toxic ideology of "kill or be killed" to cope with that and further trauma, as well as denying his own emotionality in an attempt to make himself invincible. And in the Genocide Route, Chara does the exact same fucking thing. A different toxic ideology, that the only thing that matters is acquiring power, a different mask to deny their emotions which is impassive rather than irreverent, but so similar. Beat for beat. Even down to the fact that Asriel still idolized the person who hurt him, considered them special, the only person worth caring about: Chara wants you to come with them to conquer and destroy new worlds, considers you the perfect partner, doesn't kill you even when you try to resist them, even keeps remaking the world for you when you ask despite already getting your SOUL the first time. You showed them the truth of their existence, after all, even without meaning to. Just as Chara showed Asriel that this world is kill or be killed, even without meaning to.

So… Knowing that all of this could happen…

It adds a lot, I think, to the Pacifist Ending. To Chara getting better, growing as a person and helping everyone, learning they were wrong about the world and humanity, and letting power go. Letting Frisk go. Letting everyone go. Hearing out Asriel's grievances with what they did and accepting them. Just being happy that Asriel could be saved along with everyone else, before the end, despite the negative impact they had had on him and how coming back as a flower no one recognized as him fucked him up even worse.

I just like those two poor siblings, and can't help but be sympathetic to somebody young making a nasty plan with good intentions but without a real appreciation for what they were doing. I am so glad that such a tragic and awful thing got better the way it did, amidst everyone else getting their happy ending. And I think Chara just gets me so much because they become so much better than they were to begin with, and because I felt I was there with them. Immersion is a powerful thing. But maybe even more than that... It's that Frisk doesn't save Chara. Frisk can't save Chara. Frisk can just give Chara the chance they needed to save themselves.