#i have underestimated them before and have been proven wrong

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

If the person in the end of the episode turns out to be Amelie instead of Emilie, can I just say how much more messed up that would make the ending?!?!

Gabriel at the end, talks a big game about how much he regrets his past actions, about how he lost himself. But then after all this, he still makes the wish, a wish that we aren’t made privy to the exact nature of.

Gabriel, practically during the entire show, has spoken of how he misses Emilie, of how he wants her to return. However, the way he behaves right before he makes the wish seems to imply that he wish would be made for Adrien’s benefit.

The show purposely makes it ambiguous as to whether or not Gabriel wished for him to replace Emilie or for him to join Emilie, with Nathalie taking his place.

The very fact that Nathalie does come back would seem to implicate the latter, as her life would have needed to be exchanged for something as well.

If it is Amelie at the pool party and Gabriel did indeed make a wish to join Emilie, that would only prove further just how selfish and negligent of a father he really was. All Gabriel was looking out for was his own interests. He didn’t care if Adrien still had someone around to care for him, he couldn’t even bother to try to fill the role himself.

If Gabriel didn’t bring back Emilie, all the ending showed was that he learned nothing, he’s still an awful and abusive parent, and he received a redemption from Paris that he didn’t actually deserve.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

[vermilionsun]

I've seen everyone post their Touchstarved MCs, so I thought why not show you mine as well :)

(Aka, can you tell I'm indecisive?)

Akachi: The Unnamed

“I prefer to count my blessings.”

Pronouns: she/they

Birthday: January 16th — Firstborn; The date the priests took her in

Appearance:

Hair: wavy, mid-thigh length / later shoulder length, white

Skin: very very pale

Eye colour: Gold

Height: 174 cm / 5’7’’

Personality: Benevolent Deceiver — The Sun

Likes: Board games, drinking competitions, children, fairy lights, dressing up, perfumes and nice scents

Dislikes: bad-smelling things, being underestimated, rudeness, being unable to control themselves, the Senobium’s Abess

Fatal Flaw: Can’t seem to break free of their past

Other: 

Thinks of their little group as a found family

Isn’t as hesitant with her hand movements since they grew up unafraid of the curse disguised as a blessing

Isn’t that much into romantic stuff — sure she might fool around a bit with Leander and Kuras but they have made sure they knew beforehand

Have shamelessly commented on Leander’s abs more than once

Loves playing with the children of Lowtown

Considers becoming a teacher someday after getting rid of their curse

She has made living arrangements with Kuras opposed to staying at the Wick (later), but then again, they hang around there more often

Mourns their childhood

Has said “I swear upon my name” when mad multiple times out of habit

Had a mental breakdown once after a very bad encounter and ended up cutting her hair (cutting their hair was forbidden during their days at the temple, and at that moment they felt the need to do something to regain some sense of control over herself), until Aeron found and comforted them before anything worse could happen

Is both super open and very secretive about what they went through in the temple, depends on their mood, honestly

The moment they learned there is an Abess in the Senobium, she immediately got a very bad feeling about the place. They try to excuse it to their past experiences with the cult’s Abbot, but their feelings have never proved her wrong.

Background:

The priests found her in the wastelands surrounding the temple. Some priests argued they were born of the Allmother’s opposing deity, and wanted to sacrifice them in her name, but most were against it and thought of them as a divine gift.

She grew up as a gentle, kind child, but was denied contact with the world outside the temple. That didn’t stop her from periodically escaping to see travelling troupes.

One day, a mage arrived and went berserk the moment she saw them, telling her she had been lied to and revealing the truth of their curse, claiming they raised a child with the same exact curse. The priests escorted her out immediately but it was too late. Akachi escaped that very night.

Arrived in Eridia with the caravan

Relationships:

Kuras — liked

Finds him generally pleasant and amusing, albeit a little scary. If either ever has free time, they take each other on long walks.

Leander — close and disliked

Can see right through Leander’s charm, but plays the whole “how was I supposed to know about how the world works when I was locked away in a remote temple?” innocent card. She knows something's wrong and if they aren't proven right by the end of her stay in Eridia, they swear upon themself she’ll turn back to the temple and curse them out. Truth be told, they find Leander's desperation to get close to her funny.

Vere — close

Has to resist banging their head against the nearest surface whenever he opens his mouth, but finds it very difficult to do so. Hates herself for grinning at his stupid jokes and definitely doesn’t enjoy going shopping with him… or gossiping… or—

Ais — liked

Drinking buddies. With him, Akachi found out she’s practically immune to alcohol. One time she carefully entered the Seaspring, only for Ais to pull them out as soon as he saw her. For some reason, he seems incredibly protective over her after that.

Mhin — liked and disliked

Doesn’t mind them around. Neither seems threatened by the other, there is just this odd dynamic where they can’t figure out what they want from each other

Stats:

Strength — 1

Luck — 3

Wisdom — 3

Empathy — 4

Astuteness — 4

Flower: Snapdragon (Carnation) [True flower — date flower]

Aeron: The Hound

“If I could turn time back, I simply wouldn’t.”

Pronouns: he/him

Birthday: August 19th — Second Born; He chose the date he made his first kill

Appearance:

Hair: wavy, short, dirty blonde/brune

Skin: tan

Eye colour: Gold

Height: 182 cm / 6’0’’

Has a healed scar on his right cheek and a few faded ones on the rest of his body

Personality: Miscellaneous Harbinger — The Moon

Likes: Books, dogs, music, good company, origami, Mhin

Dislikes: Incompetence, loneliness, someone—or even worse he himself—hurting his family

Fatal Flaw: Always believes he takes the best course of action, even if he doesn’t

Other:

Is actively trying to quit smoking

The moment he had money in his hands, he went into the first bookshop he found in Lowtown and bought a book

The best shoulder to cry on & is a cuddly bear

Has earned the title “mother hen” from a few people

He fell for Mhin almost instantly

Stays at the Wick with Arioch

Aeron is the most protective of the three, watching over the other two despite being the middle child

Has become an errand boy and picks up orders for the Wick

Soft spot for that one macabre–themed bakery hidden in a corner of Lowtown

Generally tries to start fresh, avoids committing crimes anymore and hopes he can find a cure at some point

But if needed, he will punch a bitch without hesitation

Always carries a weapon with him, out of habit—usually a handy dagger

Background:

Grew up with a group of orphans in the streets of another city, which they had to eventually abandon due to the increase of Soulless.

Arrived in Eridia with his best friend, who then betrayed and stabbed him, leaving him to die in an alleyway.

Thankfully, that alleyway was the one behind the Wet Wick, and Leander found him quickly.

Relationships:

Kuras — liked

He and Kuras don’t have a particular relationship. They greet each other, maybe engage in small talk once in a while—probably about novels. Aeron’s a frequent visitor to the clinic, either for errands or tending attention to any injuries. Kuras’ also the one who encouraged Aeron to pursue a relationship with his siblings

Leander — close

Good friends. Leander saved him, got him a place to stay for free and even a job right after he was betrayed, effectively saving him from an alternative timeline of chaos and bloodshed that would have gotten him killed. Aeron came to realise that soon enough and promised to repay Leander as soon as he could… except for the drinks; those are, again, on Leander, right?

Vere — liked

Loves this bitch to death, for fuck’s shake. The banter is top tire and so is the unhinged flirting. Of course, they both eye someone else, but practice never hurt anyone, did it?

Ais — liked

The moment Aeron saw Princess, he was on his knees petting her and cooing at her, which immediately put him on Ais’ good side. He doesn’t mind pet sitting this “adorable fluffless ball of sunshine,” as he has called her. Despite all that, Ais is a bad influence for him when it comes to smoking. But, Ais is also his to–go person to help hide a body, if he ever needs it again.

Mhin — liked, developing to close

“Oh damn,” were Aeron’s first words when he saw them. Not quite a romantic at heart until that very moment. Loves to tease them, hoping to get them flustered or at least get pinned to a wall by them again. Mhin seemed to actively try to avoid him at first, then they warmed up, until they pulled away and the cycle repeated itself over and over again. But that’s fine; Aeron doesn’t mind waiting.

Stats:

Strength — 3

Luck — 2

Wisdom — 1

Selflessness — 3

Reading — 4

Flower: Sunflower (Gladiolus) [True flower — date flower]

Arioch: The Alchemist

“Isn’t life too short to be sad?”

Pronouns: they/them

Birthday: June 30th — Third Born; The date their “mother” told them they were born

Appearance:

Hair: none/bald

Skin: dark

Eye colour: Gold

Height: 165 cm / 5’2’’

Is blind in his left eye due to an experiment going wrong. The colour hasn’t changed much, but it looks more faded

Personality: Unforgiven Innocent — The Star

Likes: Dancing, bubbly potions, bad jokes, sweets, journaling, earrings, Kuras

Dislikes: silence, small spaces, lemonade, Vere

Fatal Flaw: They trust way too easily

Other: 

Sees Kuras as a father figure

and also helps him around in the clinic

Gives the best gifts

Has a snack with them at all times

Always perches in a high place whenever possible. Like, they never sit normally. Is that a bird? Is it a plane? Nope! It’s Arioch sitting on a random rooftop!

Has developed abandonment issues

Often suppresses their own emotions and thoughts, maintaining such strict self-control that it occasionally leads to overwhelming impulses to violently destroy something

Once upon a time, they accidentally left their journal unattended and a very sneaky and totally mysterious individual made quick, yet very detailed, sketches of everyone mentioned in there on Arioch’s extra sticky papers

Stays at the Wick with Aeron

Background:

The exiled mage found them abandoned in the wastelands as a baby. She decided to take them in the moment she saw them and raise them as her own

They found out their “mother” was cultivating them as a test subject through some forgotten notebooks. They couldn’t even finish reading before they bailed out of there with what little they had on them that moment.

They literally walked to Eridia, surprisingly without trouble, although they might have noticed some turfs of red hair suddenly appearing here and there as they were getting closer to the city

Ended up stumbling in the Seaspring’s temple

If they had flipped to the last pages, they would have seen her regret and abandonment of her original plans.

The mage was searching for them until the day she died, yet never found them. The closest she got was when she came across Akachi’s cult temple.

Relationships:

Kuras — close

Has grown attached to him. Not in the “I always wanted a father,” sense but in the “you make me feel comfortable enough and you take care of me and we don’t mind me being myself,” kind of sense.

Leander — liked

They find him a little pushy and overdramatic, but other than that they have no reason not to like him yet. It’s nice to let go of those damn bandages for a few moments… or hours—

Vere — disliked

Avoids him if they can. They get an uncanny feeling, like the foxian resides in every shadow they pass. Too much knowledge has hurt them in the past, so they simply don’t want to know whether they’re being hunted down like prey or they're just delusional.

Ais — liked

Definitely wants to see Princess again, but is too afraid to leave the city for now. Ais is all but encouraging them not to visit. They like to joke around with him, though Ais’ violent… solutions are stirring something in them they’d like not to name

Mhin — liked and disliked

They are each other's confront person. They will cuss each other out, then sit at the stairs behind Kuras’ clinic and feed the cats while chewing on sweets. Arioch is Mhin’s first taste of what a family would look like.

Stats:

Strength — 2

Luck — 5

Wisdom — 2

Kindness — 4

Confidence — 3

Flower: Peony (Rose) [True flower — date flower]

Timeline of events:

The triplets Akachi, Aeron and Arioch were born and left in different places (January 14th)

Aeron begins his journey to Eridia with his best friend

Arioch finds out the truth and runs away to Eridia

Akachi finds out the truth via Arioch’s “mother” and runs away to Eridia

Arioch stumbles upon the Seaspring temple

Aeron is betrayed and stabbed & Akachi’s caravan gets attacked

Leander finds Aeron and tends to his wounds, Kuras heals Akachi, Arioch stumbles upon Vere

Arioch gets a room at the Wick and stays there till nighttime

Akachi meets with Leander & then Vere, before heading for the Senobium

Akachi meets with Ais

Aeron wakes up and settles down at the bar, soon meeting with Vere and Ais

Akachi gets attacked again by the Soulless, meets with Mhin and returns to the Wick accompanied by Mhin and Kuras

At the same exact time, Aeron is drinking green booger–shots at the bar (still bandaged up), Arioch descends the stairs and Akachi enters the Wick.

They all just freeze, staring at each other

“Is that a new trend? Foreigners dressing up with bandages, looking all mysterious?” Vere breaks the moment

It takes the three a while to figure out what the actual fuck before Ais casually mentions: “You could be siblings. You kind of look alike. Not to mention…” your curse isn’t said, but heavily implied

Dynamics:

It does take them a little while—especially Aeron—to make a decision on how to move forward.

Arioch knew the moment they made the connection that they didn’t want to lose a potential bond.

As for Akachi… she’s always wanted siblings, so why not give it a shot?

All three just want to protect each other from what they went through

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Skeletons in the closet

@duckymcdoorknob *THROWS LEE LYNEY AT YOUR FACE*

Anygays, I've become mentally ill for the three of them and just HAD to write them

Spoilers for Fontaine obv!!

___________________________________________

Lyney x Lynette x Freminet (PLATONIC)

Lee: Lyney

Lers: Lynette, Freminet

Warnings: Tickles! Spoilers for Fontaine act 1!

___________________________________________

Anyone would assume this would be a good day for Lyney. Thanks to the traveller, his innocence was proven and he could now walk as a free man. So why was it that his heart still ached later that night..?

The face of shock and disappointment the traveller gave after learning of his ties with the Fatui has been clouding his mind. Was their relationship now... tarnished? Was there nothing he could do...?

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a soft pat on his shoulder, prompting him to turn around to face the younger slibing. "Oh, Freminet! Do what do I owe the pleasure?" it was like a switch had been activated and Lyney was back to acting like his usual cheerful self. But it was just that, an act... Just like he deceived people up on the stage, he can do the same with his true emotions. Although he underestimates how perceptive his family is.

"Umm... you've been awfully quiet tonight, is everything okay?"

"Of course I'm okay! I'm better than okay! If it wasn't for the... traveller... I wouldn't be back here tonight" there was a hint of sadness in the magician's eyes at the mention of the traveller. "Anyways, it's been a long day for all of us, you should go to sleep" and with that, Lyney slithered out of there, leaving Freminet feeling even more concerned.

With no other choice, Freminet went to ask Lynette about what happened there. After all, she had been present through it all. He peaked his head through the open door, catching his sister's attention.

"Hmm, is something wrong, Freminet?" she motioned him to come in.

"It's about Lyney... did something happen back there? He's been avoidant all night...".

Lynette let out a sigh and proceeded to explain the fallout between him and the traveller.

Freminet listened intently, slowly nodding along "I see... Is there anything we can do to help?".

"I'm sure with time, he and the traveller will come to an understanding".

The younger brother nodded but let out a soft sigh of disappointment. It had been many times his sibling had helped him out of awkward situations, and now he wanted to return the favor.

"But..." Lynette started to trail off. "He has been awfully moody tonight, I say we do something about it" aside from her usual serious demeanor, there was a slight spark of mischief in her eyes. Freminet could only imagine what she had planned and bregudgingly followed her to Lyney's room.

"Lyney... you in there?" Lynette reached out, followed by a soft knock to his bedroom door.

It was hard to make out, but they heard a faint 'it's open' and the younger siblings made their way in. Upon entering, they saw Lyney laying on his stomach with his face pressed against his pillow, refusing to look at either of them.

After a moment of hesitation, Lynette gave Freminet a slight shove towards their older brother. The youngling let out a flustered squeak, the freckles across his cheeks slowly being drowned out by the pink color overtaking them. He gave Lynette a flustered glare, while she only prompted him to keep going.

With a deep breath, he spoke out "Lyney...?". He only got a slight humm in reply, signaling that the magician was listening to him, despite keeping his face hidden. Freminet let out another breath before continuing "Lynette told me about what happened... with the traveller...". He observed the way Lyney's body tensed up at the mention and couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for bringing it up. "I'm sorry, I just... you don't have to suffer in silence...".

Freminet's voice grew softer and he took a seat next to Lyney. Shortly after, Lynette made her way to sit on the opposite side of the bed.

"We both know you're hurting, whether you admit it or not" Lynette's voice was sharper, but she only wished to get through her stubborn brother.

"I already said I'm fine..." Lyney whined out like a toddler, burrying his face deeper into the pillow. The other two couldn't help but softly snicker in amusement.

"If you'll keep sulking like that, then I guess we have no other choice..." Lynette and Freminet exchanged some glances, as if communicating telepathycally. Then, Lyney felt the magical hand of his assistant slide down his side, causing his whole body to jolt in surprise. But he wouldn't let his image falter from a simple touch and held onto his pillow tightly. As if it would somehow save him from his demise.

"Noho tickles, Lynette..." the magician let out a whiny giggle, muffled by his pillow, but still audibly adorable.

"In that case, your turn, Freminet".

"Huh...?" Freminet's gaze shyed away.

"C'mon, he won't bite" Lynette teased him, causing the younger boy to pout slightly.

"Fine..." he hesitantly reached out and gently tweaked at his brother's ribcage, earning a high-pitched squeak.

"gyAH! Dohon't listen to her, Freminehet!".

Usually, Freminet was one to oblige to Lyney's request. But he noticed that the elder one didn't as much squirm away from his touch, did he like it, perhaps? With that in mind, Freminet's fingertips kept delicately exploring each and every ticklish bone. Causing a cascade of giggles to pour out of Lyney's mouth.

"Nahahaha! Ihihit tickles!!" the magician blurted out the obvious through his hysterics. His legs started kicking out from behind out of instinct, but that would soon end when he felt weight settle on top of his legs.

"That's the point, silly" Lynette spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. Now with her brother's legs pinned, she started to poke and scribble at the back of his knees.

"eHEEK! AHAHAHA! NAHAT THEHEHERE!" if it were anyone else, Lyney would try bucking them off, but he couldn't risk hurting his sister. So he did the only thing he could in this situation and took the tickling like a champ (not really).

Lyney's hysterical and goofy sounds filled up the room. High-pitched charming laughter mixed in with snorts rang through the siblings ears.

"Hey Freminet, you should target his armpits".

"W-wait, Freminet dohoHON'T!!" Lyney's whole body jumped, errupting into another fit of contagious laughter. Poor Lynette got flung off of him, but landed flat across the bed. When she got up to see the commotion, there was Freminet, his small fingers carefully poking and scribbling at the ticklish hollows.

"Am I doing this right...?" he asked feeling unsure of himself, even though Lyney was currently crumbling from those simple touches.

"WAHAHA! P-PLEASE! I CAHAHAN'T!" Lyney rolled over onto his back and grabbed at Freminet's wrists, causing him to stop. The younger siblings observed the magician take in deep breaths. His chest heaving, hair all messy, eyes a bit watery, and a bright smile on his face. It looked like their plan worked after all.

"She put me up to it...!" Freminet blurted out, feeling a bit afraid that he took things too far, earning an eye roll from his sister. But before his thoughts could run wild, he felt a playful hand ruffle his hair. "H-hey!...".

When he looked down, he saw Lyney still smiling brightly at him. A genuine smile, Freminet thought. He couldn't help but smile back at his brother.

"Thank you for that, you two" Lyney smiled a bit sheepishly with flushed cheeks. But right now this moment was more important than whatever embarrassment he felt. He wrapped each of them into his arms, pulling them close into a snuggle pile.

"Looks like he's back to normal" Lynette said, both she and Freminet snuggling into each side of Lyney.

"Next time, please don't keep your feelings to yourself..." Freminet whispered out softly, not daring to make eye contact.

"Alright, alright, lessoned learned. I'm so glad to have such a reliable support system~" he gave each of them a squeeze. The three of them enjoying their silent company for a while, until... "But that doesn't mean I'll let you both go scott free...~" he spoke in a teasing tone, causing both siblings to tense up in his embrace.

The rest of the night was spent with cuddles and laughter. Whatever happened in the future, he was sure he could pull through with his family...

___________________________________________

Im sorry if this is shit but I still think its cute 🥲

[ckret2]

I don't know if anyone asked, but how do you think about the Shapeshifter? Especially in Bill's perspective you can think of.

P.S. You gotta find this comic interesting. The problem would be, how to access Shifty's Mindscape?

https://moringmark.tumblr.com/post/113688377238

So here's the story of Shifty as I see it:

A baby hatches alone on an alien planet, and is immediately seen as a wild animal and caged.

The only "parents" it's ever known keep it locked alone in the dark when they aren't around.

Even though its nature is to transform into anything it sees—and as a baby, with its mind still growing, it probably needs to be exposed to new forms for its developmental health—it's kept contained where it has very little fresh stimuli.

One of its "parents" wears a mask over his face so it can't learn what he looks like. Its other parent wants to just freeze it and leave it underground.

Even after it learns to talk and its parents know it's a sentient, intelligent being, nothing about its captivity changes.

Shifty has learned how to speak! A few words at first, but every day he’s been learning longer sentences. Increasingly, he asks “Who am I?”

It's searching for a sense of identity. It's asking for help from aliens who don't know what to tell it, and who give no indication that they want to help it find out.

It's only allowed to learn new forms from pictures in books. It knows one of its parents has several journals full of wondrous shapes it's never seen before. It's not allowed to look at them. It isn't given a good reason why. It's treated like a threat that can't be trusted with new forms—even when it's given them no reason to think it's untrustworthy.

And if it's going to be distrusted no matter what—for nothing except its born nature as a shapeshifter—why should it be trustworthy?

In desperation, it ties up its other parent (without hurting him) to fool its main parent. In return, they freeze it underground—and it's left there, abandoned and forgotten, for thirty years.

I truly believe Shifty became a monster because it was raised like a prisoner. Isolated, under-stimulated, inadequate enrichment for a child of any species; treated with academic curiosity, suspicion, and fear rather than with affection and care. Why wouldn't it have become a monster? What in its environment could have led it to become anything else?

Ford and Fiddleford weren't equipped to handle a new, living person; they treated it like an animal, and when they learned it was an intelligent being, they didn't change their treatment. As much as Ford sympathizes with "freaks," I think occasionally Ford forgets to respect the sentient ones as people—too caught up in his research to think about anything else. And I don't think Fiddleford's ever seen personhood in non-humans as anything but unnatural and a threat.

(As far as Bill is concerned—if anything, seeing how Ford interacted with Shifty may have made him underestimate just how strongly he'd fight against Bill's plans for his dimension. After all, he might not like Bill's plan, but it isn't like he really cares about anyone else in his dimension, right? Except Ford does care. He just... never really thought through what he was doing with Shifty.)

I think Shifty should be given a heartfelt apology and unleashed in Gravity Falls. Sure, it might commit murder and mayhem! But it was treated like a criminal when it was a baby who'd done nothing wrong. It deserves a second chance and a fair shot at living a free life. The humans don't have the right to keep it in indefinite cryogenic solitary confinement until it's actually proven such extreme measures are necessary.

[nayatarot777]

what do you need to know right now? ~ messages from your guides 💌

• pile one •

significant numbers: 26, 24, 28, 20, 18

* there may be a vengeful feminine trying to send some negativity your way. she’s jealous of your femininity and physical appearance. regardless of your gender. your intuition has been telling you about this feminine for a while, and because of some type of love that you hold towards her, the reality of who she is has been clouded. you’ve tried to ignore it. truth is, this woman is jealous. and vengeful. and i feel like it’s because she underestimated you in some way and was proven wrong. she thought that you wouldn’t retaliate or react in some sort of way and was surprised to see you step into some sort of power. she doesn’t want you to see this though. this is someone who is supposed to love you but evil-eyes you instead. time to elevate into who you want to become by just doing what you want to do. as long as you’re not harming anyone, what’s the problem? don’t let her jealousy and her defensiveness from feeling threatened deter you from loving yourself. you’re going to be judged by her no matter what you do. begin to acknowledge that you need to start trusting yourself. trust is divinity.

* side note: a lot of you have blocked root chakras. play root chakra frequencies, speak mantras, visualise your root chakra being unblocked, eat red foods, do whatever you need to do to get back in touch with pleasure. of all kinds. especially with food. some of you may be overeating and then under-eating because your root chakra is not balanced. you’re not satisfied by the physicalities that you have. question yourself why, and then determine what you want and what you desire. no matter how materialistic. this will give you vitality, inspiration, and energy to exert into the physical world (which is how you manifest).

• pile two • 🥞

* you’re in a chaotic situation right now, but you’ll be happy to know that it’s coming to an end. you have to stay calm amongst the chaos as much as possible. there’s not much time left before a whole new lifestyle begins for you. you’ll have a warming, protective space of your own and you’ll prove to be successful over those who tried to lie to you, gaslight and manipulate you, and cause chaos for you. you’ll still be skipping away from the rubbles of the tower moment into your new life - crown still intact 👑 (of course. you know you survive spiritual warfare everyday out here) - and peace. you just have to have faith in this new beginning. whatever you’ve been waiting for, it’s coming. keep your self respect and self esteem and you’ll be good.

• pile three • 🥐

* you’ve met someone who you know within your gut is someone who you’re in spiritual union with. you don’t even want to admit it because you’re that one independent ass person who people can’t tie down. you have anxieties and fears around commitment also, due to an inability to trust others. the universe has sent you so many signs and you’re still side-eyeing all of them lmaoo. work on letting go of the need to control this situation and do some shadow work. on trust in particular. this connection scares you because you just know that this person is significant but you’re denying it. you need to learn how to trust yourself first. start building a connection with yourself and you’ll find it easier to build a connection with this person. for now i feel like you guys are in separation because you both need to focus on yourselves before coming into union. you mirror each other quite a bit. there are some things that you both need to work on first.

[kanmom51]

SEVEN

So there is something I only realised this morning.

I can't believe I didn't see it before, but then I was so used to how things were done so far that it totally slipped by me.

The release times.

They are all US ET.

Not KST.

How I didn't notice this before is beyond me (given there were literally 2 posters, one in English and one in Korean, but my brain was living on past experience).

My brain was on automat, cause since when do BH release songs with US ET detailed schedules? ONLY ET schedule?????

It's like even in the schedule poster they are disconnecting JK from the Korean music scene. This isn't a K-pop song with a KST release time. Not for those that see the poster in English. They separated them. One for the Korean consumer, one for the American (I'm getting there, bare with me).

And once I digested that piece of information I knew that what I was thinking all along is a given.

JK is a big part of BPD's end game. This, Seven, it's part of BPD's end game.

It's a song in English. Created for the US market, the American consumer.

It's going to be flogged, well it is already, like no other BTS or BTS member song has been before it.

That MV, it's going to be big. Production big.

A lot of thought and planning has been put into this.

They are throwing it all at this song.

And the way I see it, this will also be the first song to be played on the radio. I really believe we are going to be getting Seven played on the radio. Like A LOT. Like lots of money changing hands to make it happen A LOT. Like lots of but kissing to make it happen A LOT.

Because BPD wants Korean artists and Kpop to reach the next level. Which is not only fan acknowledgement. He wants them to acknowledged as artists, just like any other artist who releases music in the States. He wants the stupid ass stigma that stuck to K-pop erased. He wants in. And Seven is the start of it.

They always had their eyes set on JK.

That is one of the reasons they were unprepared for JM and his success hit them right in the Face. Literally. They underestimated JM's power. They didn't know what to do with it. In a way, didn't want it. It wasn't part of the big plan. JK is.

And now thinking back to Qatar - I can't help but wonder, was it the organizers request only for JK or was it what Hybe wanted?

And that's a hell of a lot to put on JK's shoulders.

I do hope that this works. Not for Hybe's sake, nor BPDs. I want JK to do well. I want this for him, assuming this is what he wants too.

Look, everything I'm writing here can be a big pile of bull crap.

I could be proven totally wrong. No radio play, no big push, no big production. But wait. I think it's safe to say that the MV was a big production (flying out a well known Korean actress to LA to film, and what is with the Recording film?). Oh, and since when did we ever get posters all over the world for a single? I kind of think I'm on the right path here...

Anyway, if I'm wrong I'll own it. But I really do think this is part of the big plan. And my question is what's next?

Well, truthfully that's just one question. And I for one have plenty more. That have to do with JK and what he wants and what it means... for him and for JM and for them as a couple.

[edenmemes]

wednesday starters

❝ i’ve learned so much from you. part of it is admittedly criminal behavior. ❞ ❝ use the words  ‘little’  and  ‘girl’  to address me again and i can’t guarantee your safety. ❞ ❝ i knew you didn’t have what it takes to be a murderer. ❞ ❝ i promise that whoever did this to you will suffer. ❞ ❝ you really suck at this. cheering people up. ❞ ❝ are you feeling okay? you look a little pale. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right. ❞ ❝ your secret’s safe with me. ❞ ❝ why should i bother telling you anything? you've already decided i'm lying. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’ve never really fit in anywhere. ❞ ❝ how i missed those accusing eyes and youthful sneer. ❞ ❝ i’ll be keeping my eye on you. ❞ ❝ you’re hurt. can you walk? ❞ ❝ try anything and you’ll lose limbs. ❞ ❝ i should have known you were behind this. ❞ ❝ do you always speak in riddles? ❞ ❝ for someone who claims to have no friends, you certainly protect them. ❞ ❝ i refuse to play the role of a pawn in someone else’s corrupt game. ❞ ❝ any plans you have of running away end right now. ❞ ❝ or you can just glare uncomfortably. whatever works for you. ❞ ❝ i don’t have time to explain, but you’re in danger. ❞ ❝ i didn’t realize we were back on speaking terms. ❞ ❝ no man chooses evil because it is evil. he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks. ❞ ❝ emotion equals weakness. pull yourself together. ❞ ❝ there’s a monster out there, but everyone believes i made it up. ❞ ❝ how long do you intend on giving me the cold shoulder? ❞ ❝ if you die, i will kill you. ❞ ❝ whoever you are, show yourself. ❞ ❝ how long have you been lurking? ❞ ❝ believe nothing you hear and half of what you see. ❞ ❝ as usual, you underestimate me. ❞ ❝ i don’t believe that i’m better than everyone else. just that i’m better than you. ❞ ❝ i hope that one day, you’ll finally be able to accept me for who i am. ❞ ❝ i don’t want you to be a stranger in my life. ❞ ❝ i don’t plan on staying here long. ❞ ❝ not a hugger. got it. ❞ ❝ you’re soft and weak. you’ll never survive without me. ❞ ❝ do you make a habit of scaring the hell out of everybody? ❞ ❝ if he breaks your heart, i’ll nail-gun his. ❞ ❝ you are a brilliant person, but sometimes you get in your own way. ❞ ❝ my personal philosophy is kill or be killed. ❞ ❝ breathe a word of this to anyone and i will end you. ❞ ❝ have you ever shot a bow and arrow before? ❞ ❝ i don’t bury hatchets. i sharpen them. ❞ ❝ you can’t get rid of me that easily. ❞ ❝ i act as if i don't care if people dislike me. deep down...i secretly enjoy it. ❞ ❝ there’s just something wrong about this place. ❞ ❝ i want to assure you i remain as cold and heartless as the first day we met. ❞ ❝ i have no interest in following in your footsteps. ❞ ❝ you used to love my killer instinct. ❞ ❝ sometimes the monsters we least expect are the most dangerous. ❞ ❝ would it kill you to not think the worst of me for once? ❞ ❝ is that your professional opinion as the child of a murderer? ❞ ❝ you always had a unique perspective on the world. ❞ ❝ i don’t know what kind of sick joke you’re playing, but i’m out of here. ❞ ❝ at least it’s turning into a beautiful day. ❞ ❝ being your friend should come with a warning label. ❞ ❝ there’s no time. leave me. save yourself. ❞ ❝ we were good together. ❞ ❝ oh, great. i guess you can add ‘thief’ to your resume. ❞ ❝ whatever did this wasn’t human. ❞ ❝ the last thing i remember i was walking outside feeling a mixture of rage, pity and self-disgust. ❞ ❝ i’m not above breaking a few fingers. ❞ ❝ once again, you have underestimated the situation. ❞ ❝ i see the world as a place that must be endured. ❞ ❝ this will not end well for you. ❞ ❝ stop making enemies and start making friends. you’re going to need them. ❞ ❝ it’s been a long night. i’m tired of your games. ❞ ❝ never lose that. the ability to not let others define you. ❞ ❝ i make one mistake, and you can’t forgive me. ❞ ❝ my deviousness has finally rubbed off on you. ❞ ❝ you could have been seriously hurt or worse. ❞ ❝ my vengeance will be swift and true. ❞ ❝ no matter how hard i try, there will always be people who look down on me. ❞ ❝ danger is on its way. no time to delay. ❞ ❝ please, flattery will get you nowhere. ❞ ❝ do you have a death wish or something? ❞ ❝ i’m the villain in your fantasy. ❞ ❝ i just want you to know all i want is the very best for you. ❞ ❝ you know what your problem is? you don’t know who your real friends are. ❞ ❝ i did a terrible a thing, but i swear i’m not a terrible person. ❞ ❝ the world isn’t always black and white. there are shades of grey. ❞ ❝ where you see doom, i see opportunity. ❞ ❝ friends are a liability and can be exploited. that makes them weaknesses. ❞ ❝ i’m just gonna come out and say it. i want us to be more than friends. ❞ ❝ that’s so sweet. you didn’t have to get me anything. ❞ ❝ think you skipped where you apologize for acting like a jerk last weekend. ❞ ❝ you’ll use everyone to get what you want, even if it means putting them in danger. ❞ ❝ every time you get involved, people get hurt. ❞ ❝ there’s a biting sense of humor that i always adored. ❞ ❝ what does it feel like? to lose. ❞ ❝ i  have  great  admiration  for  well  executed  revenge  plots  but  yours  was  a  bit  extreme. ❞ ❝ what’s your excuse from creeping around in the middle of the night? ❞ ❝ i’ll survive alone. i always have. ❞ ❝ when you give me that death stare of disapproval, you remind me of your mother. ❞ ❝ are you all right? i can’t imagine witnessing something like that. ❞ ❝ i’m tougher than you think. ❞ ❝ the more you listen to them, the more their claws sink into you. ❞ ❝ people like me and you, we’re different. ❞ ❝ i would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice. ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen someone so blinded by rage. ❞ ❝ could we please do without the overt display of emotion? ❞

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XII.

GIF by uuuhshiny

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Lives for the memory, a woman who's just in his head (just in his head), and she sleeps in his bed (his bed) while he plays pretend. So pretend. –– She, Harry Styles.

WORD COUNT: ~5.6k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: discussions of religion, murder mention, smut :p, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, car sex, more of that sweet sweet detective!javi, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: not javi relapsing 😭 once a whore always a whore, am i right? hope you guys enjoy this week's chapter <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

The next month crawls by at an agonizingly awkward pace. Each day drags on, and Javier feels like he’s losing his mind more and more. Determined to keep his promise of tailing August and his cohort, he shadows them relentlessly.

He comes to find out that they’re just fucking around more often than not. It doesn’t take long for them to notice his presence. They turn the tables, leading him on a wild goose chase around town, making him feel like a complete idiot. Javier comes to terms with having severely underestimated their cleverness, and now he must compensate for the time he’s wasted.

There are no revelations, not even after his efforts to dig into the lives of the other victims. Javi had hoped that a fresh perspective would uncover something significant, much like his breakthrough in Jessica’s room, but he was quickly proven wrong. He’s back to square one, with no solid leads to follow or sound suspects to look into. The restlessness builds as he waits for the files from Rome to arrive. In the meantime, all he has to hold him over is the diary.

His sleep pattern is a wreck again, not that it ever truly straightened out, but it had become tolerable until his separation from Paloma and the subsequent dead end in the investigation.

She is glued to her new group of friends, and it’s clear this attachment has fueled her recent defiant attitude. Despite the fact that he harshly told her he wasn’t her goddamn babysitter and had stopped following her even before their relationship fell apart, Javier can’t help but worry about her constantly. The fact that they’d caught onto his surveillance rightfully pissed him off, forcing him to abandon his efforts entirely. Now, he can no longer keep tabs on her, and this loss of control claws at him.

Such a bitter pill to swallow, knowing she’s slipping further away into a crowd he mistrusts. A mistrust born from envy and happenstance towards the head of the clique who appears to be her new boyfriend. Shithead kid.

Javier despises how they’re influencing her. From his distant observations and what Romeo tells him at work, he sees the changes. Paloma is spending multiple nights away from home with little to no explanation, picking more arguments with her father, and frequently calling out of work. Her weekend performances at The Whiskey Fox have dwindled. It’s as if she’s transformed into a different person. One he doesn’t recognize. The vibrant, dedicated girl he knew is now a shadow of her former self, lost in a crowd he can’t reach.

She, on the other hand, is overwhelmed navigating the revelations of her bloodline. August has managed to explain everything as thoroughly as he can, and while it all still sounds so otherworldly, she decides to follow him with unwavering trust and loyalty. He shows her more photos of her mother, proving her involvement in the original group of believers, and that’s enough to keep her from questioning him until he brings up the more violent aspects of the ordeal.

“There’s someone who’s dying to meet you,” he told her days ago, convincing her to travel further out with him to meet this mysterious person.

They’ve crossed the state line into Louisiana in the dead of night. Being this far from home stirs an unfamiliar feeling in her gut, but it is quickly replaced by ornate curiosity as they navigate the swampy lands of the property. Here, the only other surviving member of the original group lives, and she’s surprised that’s he’s been so close all this time.

The dense, humid air clings to her leaving her skin sticky in sweat. The thick foliage rustles with unseen creatures that frighten her but she manages to keep her composure. Every step forward feels like a step deeper into a world she is just beginning to understand.

The house is… modest. Kindly put. It’s nestled amidst bald cypresses and weeping willows. The occasional twinkle of fireflies adds a touch of magic to the scene, making it feel more picturesque than what it really is. There’s a creaky wooden bridge that runs over the water leading to the small home, her boot snagging on a raised plank which causes her to stumble slightly.

“Careful, angel,” August warns, his voice cutting through the night, “helluva lot of water snakes and other critters lurkin’ out here. Would hate for ya to be snagged up by a gator.” He steadies her with a firm grip, and she mutters a brief ‘thanks’, shuddering at the mere thought of coming face to face with a fucking alligator.

Sloane and August cross the threshold as if it’s their own home while Gabe lingers outside nursing a lit cigarette. She hesitates for a moment before trailing in after them, her nose wrinkling at the stale scent hanging in the air mingled with something far more pungent.

In the dimly lit living room, an elderly man reclines on a tattered and weathered couch, his frail form beneath the worn fabric of a blanket. His sickly demeanor is evident, emphasized by the array of pill bottles strewn haphazardly across the coffee table. The room itself seems to sag under the weight of neglect, every creak and groan a testament to its precarious state; as if it could crumble at any moment.

“Guardati. Così bella. Così giovane. Avvicinati, la tua somiglianza con lei è sorprendente.”

She can't make sense of his thick accent, but August intervenes and gestures for her to come to the center of the room.

“He’s sayin’ you’re beautiful,” He translates, his words a lifeline in the sea of  her confusion, “and that your resemblance to your momma is uncanny. He wants to get a better look at ya.”

Her feet seem rooted to the floor at first, an uneasy sensation creeping over her once more. Despite her apprehension, she nods hesitantly and takes a few cautious steps forward. Standing at the foot of the couch, the elderly man’s weathered hand beckons for her to get closer, his eyes alight with curiosity and something else. Something she can’t quite place.

“Sarai una madre fantastica. Più grande di quella che ti ha preceduto. Tante vite perse e valorosamente sacrificate per far posto a te. Paloma, la matriarca della nuova era.”

She’s still so lost, the only thing she’s able to make out is her own name and the word mother. She turns to look over at August, who is watching intently as she silently asks him to translate again. He exchanges a glance with Sloane, who, uncharacteristically, remains silent.

“More monumental than your mother. He’s callin’ you the matriarch of the new age.”

Inhaling sharply, uncertainty clouds her thoughts as she struggles to decipher the old man’s intentions. When her attention returns to him, her breath catches in her throat once she notices a dagger clutched in his wrinkled hand. Panic surges through her veins and she instinctively moves to retreat, but his sudden grip on her wrist halts her in her tracks. She recoils, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as she tells him to let go.

“Take my life, Paloma. It would be an honor.”

Her blood runs cold at his words, eyes widening with a chill creeping up her spine. A sinister gleam flickers in his eyes, and she yanks her hand free, stumbling backward until she collapses onto the grimy floor. Terror grips her heart as she scrambles to her feet, her eyes darting frantically between the old man, August, and Sloane.

“Why did he say that?” Paloma’s voice cuts through the heavy silence, her confusion and nerves palpable.

There’s a moment of silence that only serves to fuel her growing agitation. She feels like she’s overreacting, but deep down, she knows she’s not. The old man’s request has unsettled her to the core. He asked her to kill him.

What. The. Fuck?

“He’s obviously sick and needs medical attention. Why did you bring me here?” Paloma’s gaze fixes on August, her tone tinged with accusation. As he steps closer to her, she instinctively takes a step back.

“For him. For this. He’ll be gone any day now ‘n his last request was to see you in person. He’s on his deathbed, Paloma. Remember ‘bout all the pain and sufferin’ that could end at your hands. Consider this part of that. Put him out of his misery–– he’s in so much pain and wants you to end it.”

“I-It’s murder.”

“If you think of it like that, you’re only hurtin’ yourself.”

She bites down roughly on her tongue, struggling to contain the torrent of emotions swirling inside her. A hesitant glance is cast toward the couch where the old man’s gaze remains fixed on her, his plea unyielding.

But she can’t bring herself to do it. She won’t. With a determined shake of her head, she takes a few steadying breaths. “M’not goin’ to do it. I’m sorry,” she declares, her voice wavering. It’s absurd, this situation they’ve found themselves in, and she can’t fathom how August could expect her to be remotely okay with it.

Sloane’s eyes roll with exasperation as she finally speaks up, her tone dripping with frustration and blunt honesty. “The shit we’re involved in ain’t always goin’ to be picture-fuckin’-perfect, Paloma. S’downright biblical—convoluted ‘n harsh. Not some fairytale. You’re goin’ to have to get your hands dirty eventually. This is tame compared to everythin’ that’s come before you, before me, before all of us. Quit pussyin’ out ‘n end this poor man’s sufferin’.”

She lets out a sound of disbelief, her mind reeling at the casualness yet intensity with which her friends discuss such a grave matter as goddamn murder.

But is it really murder if he’s this old and sick—moments away from ‘seeing the light’ and practically giving his life over to her to end? The moral ambiguity of the situation hits her hard, a cold shiver dancing down her spine. Despite the doubt gnawing at her conscience, she remains resolute in her decision. “No,” she states firmly, trembling with conviction.

Sloane scoffs in response, her displeasure evident when she abruptly exits the room, presumably heading outside to vent her frustrations to Gabriel.

“Baby––” August’s voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the weight of the situation

“No, August ‘n I mean it.”

More silence ensues, that is until the man begins to cough harshly, each spasm wracking his frail body. Splatters of blood stain the dirty blanket that envelops him. Paloma watches in stunned silence, unsure of what to do as he loses himself to the violent hacking. Her heart pounds in her chest with each agonizing moment, until finally, his body goes rigid, the coughing fit subsiding into an eerie stillness.

The events that follow unfold in slow motion. Gabriel and August wrap the man’s lifeless body in sheets scavenged from around the dilapidated house. They work in hushed tones, their movements methodical as they obscure his form before solemnly carrying it outside. With a heavy silence suspended over them, they toss it into the depths of the swamp, the murky waters swallowing the remains of a life now lost.

Paloma remains silent throughout, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and thoughts. She can’t shake the feeling of unease that squeezes her. At first, she argued for them to call an ambulance, to involve the authorities, but her pleas were swiftly dismissed by August.

He explained, with a grim certainty, how the action would backfire on them. The last thing they needed was to draw attention, to risk implicating themselves in suspicion. And as much as it pained her to admit it, she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. The consequences of involving the authorities were too great, and the thought of her father discovering that his dearest daughter was far from home, involved in something like this was a chilling prospect she couldn’t bear to contemplate.

He’d never let her out of his sight again.

The ride back to Seminary is long, restless and tense. She continues her vow of silence, ignoring them all together and shutting out the world around her. Even when August attempts to sweet talk her, his words fall on deaf ears.

It all feels surreal, like some fever dream she’ll wake up from at any moment, safe and sound in the comfort of her own bed. The memory of a dead body being dumped into a swamp as alligator food long gone.

She hops out of the truck as soon as it stops in the familiar driveway, grateful that her father wasn’t home yet, and August follows hot on her heels.

“Please say somethin’, sweetheart.”

“If it’s peace I’m bringin’, then why the need for violence? Why do I need to ‘get my hands dirty’?” 

“It’s… part of it.”

“Y’know you keep sayin’ that but never really explain what the hell it means.”

He sighs heavily, scratching at his jaw as he struggles to find the right words. “To appease our deity we have to give somethin’ up. I told you, s’very similar to the Genesis story of Cain and Abel and their offerings; ‘cept in this iteration Cain was favored instead of outcasted and cursed.”

“So killin’ that man would have been seen as an offering? What will you give up now that he’s dead, huh?” Her voice wavers with uncertainty, resolve beginning to falter. Maybe she isn’t ready to take on all this responsibility. While at first, she had fantasized about being a savior, something divine to help the world in its entirety, now it’s looking like she’s getting a lot more than she can morally handle.

“You told me all those nights ago that If I needed space ‘n time to think things over that you’d grant me that. So I’m askin’–– no, tellin’ you, August, that m’gonna need some distance to really think things through,” Paloma declares, her voice firm as she asserts her need for clarity and space.

His jaw twitches with a hint of exasperation, his piercing blue eyes searching her warm brown ones for understanding. He knows he’s pushed her too far, made her wary of him and his enigmatic cause. Despite his reluctance, he nods in resignation.

“Fine. You’re right,” he concedes, his voice tinged with regret. “Did say that ‘n I meant it. You take all the time you need, little dove. You know where to find me.”

There’s a pause as he hovers nearby. With a tender gesture, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss against her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.

“M’sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he murmurs softly with remorse. She doesn’t say anything, and with a final glance, he turns and departs, leaving her standing there with her arms crossed as she watches them drive away. Alone with her thoughts and exhausted, she can’t help but wonder what the hell she’s going to do now.

“I don’t see why we need to keep draggin’ this out. S’only goin’ to keep bringin’ more problems ‘n stoppin’ us from what we’re tryin’ to do.”

August stares out the large window that overlooks the backyard of the property, half listening to Sloane’s opinion as the three of them discuss what their next move is.

“This is exactly how it all went to shit last time. They showed their hand too early ‘n it scared Calmana off. She fucked ‘em over then went into hiding. That won’t happen again. I won’t let it.”

“And you don’t think takin’ her out to Louisiana was you showin’ your hand too early? Fuckin’ scared her off and now who knows if she’ll ever think ‘bout comin’ back.”

He mulls over her words, back still facing them and eyes lost in the vastness of the ranch. “Maybe so, but we can still turn this minor setback around.”

“How? When? Hate to be the bearer of bad news but the next full moon s’tomorrow. No way we get her back on our side by then.”

“By continuin’ to be patient, Sloane.” He snaps at her, turning his head to the side, “In the meantime we find someone else t’ give over.”

“Full offense, but that’s a stupid ass idea.” She voices unapologetically, “Specially with that cop boyfriend of hers. He’s been gettin’ too close, August. If another dead body shows up you know he’ll find some bullshit reason to bring us in ‘n who knows what’ll happen after that.”

He licks his teeth, irritation flaring in his eyes. “So we pluck one of our own ‘n you do what you do best and handle him.”

He turns to face them fully, his gaze sharp and probing as he studies their reactions. “Or is that a problem?”

Gabriel, who rarely interjects in these planning sessions, speaks up. “Not a problem. We jus’ gotta be careful.” His eyes lock with August’s, a silent battle of wills. Gabriel has harbored reservations for a while now, but Paloma’s increasing involvement has intensified his suspicions.

Was what August promised even real? They’ve been at this for years, taking innocent lives with barely anything to show. ‘It takes time’ were the pacifying words August had repeated over and over. For a while, they had kept him satiated, but now those words feel hollow and weightless. He doesn’t know if he can continue with the senseless killing as they wait for Paloma to come around.

“We will,” August insists, his voice calm but firm. “We’re playin’ the long game here. Have been for years now. S’the only way. The payoff will be more rewardin’ than anythin’ I’ve ever promised either of y’all. You just have to trust me. Do you trust me?”

The question lingers, laden with excessive weight. The three share a look, the silence stretching as the gravity of their situation settles over them.

Gabriel’s trust continues to weaken. Sloane’s is resolute. Finally, they nod in unison.

“Yes.”

The files from Rome arrive right at Javier’s doorstep, and the amount of them leaves him stunned. Expecting a box or two at most, he assumed from his phone call with the professor that there wouldn’t be much material to comb through.

He was wrong. Big time. About a dozen boxes now litter his trailer home, each one packed to the brim with documents and photographs. 

Nestled among the boxes is an unexpected addition: an Italian language learning guide. Within it is a neatly written note from the woman who sent everything over.

Sorry these took so long. I translated as much as I could. Let me know if I can do anything else for you. Hopefully this helps.

His gaze bounces between the guide in his hands and the mountain of boxes. The enormity of the task ahead is almost daunting, but there’s also a flicker of excitement. This could be the breakthrough he’s been waiting for, buried in the copious amount of tangible information.

He sifts through each box thoroughly. Papers are strewn about, forming a chaotic landscape around him. His brows pinch together in concentration as he absorbs the gravity of the crimes committed, the horrific details coming to life through the countless documents. He reads how these assholes twisted the Catholic religion to their will in a blasphemous manipulation tactic.

The symbol appears again and again, more times than he can count. Its presence is an undeniable thread connecting past atrocities to present dangers. There’s no escaping the conclusion: whoever was involved back then is still pulling strings now. Javier clings to a sliver of hope, or perhaps it’s a desperate prayer, that it’s just one person and not an entire community entrenched in the same malevolent way that plagued the city of Rome.

As he delves deeper, the hours slip away unnoticed. It’s only when his stomach grumbles loudly that he realizes how late it’s gotten. The clock is nearing ten. He hasn’t eaten all day, not deliberately but because his hunger was eclipsed by the information he’s been processing. The realization snaps him momentarily out of his research-induced trance.

“Just one more,” Javi mutters to himself, metaphorically knee-deep in the files detailing the exploitation of countless women. Each folder reveals more barbarities, more lives shattered by sinister manipulations.

He flips open another manila folder, expecting more of the same grim details. Instead, he’s met with a photograph that makes him do a double take. A brunette with strikingly familiar features stares back at him. The intensity of her eyes, the curve of her nose, the pout of her lips—it all mirrors Paloma with an unsettling accuracy.

“Fuck this,” he snaps the folder shut without bothering to read the accompanying information. Her presence in his mind is relentless, making it impossible for him to concentrate on the task at hand.

He stands from the couch, pacing the small space of his living room while running a hand through his hair. It’s as if she’s everywhere, her likeness etched into the horrors he’s uncovering. Her ability to infiltrate his thoughts is infuriating, a constant reminder of the unresolved feelings that he can’t seem to overcome.

He needs a fucking breather.

It’s a slow night at The Whiskey Fox, and Javier feels a wave of relief as he steps inside. The atmosphere is a welcome break from the overwhelming sea of files that waits for him at home. After quick meal and a drink here, he’ll be ready to dive back into the labyrinth of information, hopefully with a clear head.

His moment of respite is cut short as Sloane saunters over to his side of the bar, her expression a mix of amusement and mischief. She leans forward, her shit-eating grin unwavering.

“What’ll it be, handsome?”

Javier keeps his voice plain as he tells her his order, his eyes flicking up to the television screen nearby that is broadcasting a college football game.

He can feel her gaze lingering on him as she uncaps his beer and slides it across the wooden countertop. Her stare is almost palpable, a prickling sensation erupting along his skin under the weight of it, but he refuses to react. Instead, his eyes stay fixed on the screen, ignoring her presence altogether.

Javi takes a long swig of the cold beer, the emptiness of the bar that had initially brought him solace now feels charged with unspoken tension; a reminder that no matter where he goes, complications seem to follow.

“Long day?” she asks casually, her hands busy with wiping down counters and rearranging bottles.

“Every day is a long day ‘round here,” He responds, attention still on the game. He hopes the curt reply will end the conversation, but Sloane isn’t so easily deterred.

“You’re right. The days do seem to drag by. ‘Specially workin’ with a job like yours, officer.” she continues, her tone light yet probing. 

His gaze flickers over to her then, only to find dark eyes and a seductive smile looking back at him. There’s a knowing glint in her expression, one that makes him uneasy. He doesn’t bother responding, focusing instead on his beer, then devouring the bar food that arrives shortly after.

“I’ve been told m’really good at bein’ a distraction,” she purrs, leaning closer. “Not to overstep, but you look really tense. I could help relieve some of that stress. Make tonight a little more bearable.” She bites her lip and tilts her head, her eyes swimming with suggestion.

Javi can feel the heat of her gaze, the overt invitation simmering between them. He’s tempted to look away, to bury himself back in the files at home, but something about her boldness holds his attention. For a moment, he considers the offer, the promise of temporary relief from the relentless pressure he’s under.

He finishes his meal in silence, the taste turning bland in his mouth as he mulls over his next move. The night is full of possibilities he’s not sure he wants to explore.

Javier taps his fingers against the wooden countertop as he watches her work, now his turn to do the staring. Sloane doesn’t back down; their gazes matched when she approaches him again. It’s a challenge and invitation rolled into one. The sparse number of patrons nearby do nothing to pull her attention away from him. She’s all in.

He knows he shouldn’t, but between the mess with Paloma and the complexity of the cases, a quick hook-up might just be what he needs to relieve some of that stress, as Sloane had so bluntly put it. It’s not his best move, sleeping with someone who had been on his suspects list; and it’s certainly not wise to get with the best friend of the woman he can’t seem to get over. 

The prolonged silence between them is thick with building sexual tension. Deciding to be fucking reckless, he leans forward slightly, a question forming on his lips.

“What time are you off?” he asks, his voice low.

“Twenty minutes,” she replies quickly, her excitement barely concealed.

Javier nods, effectively confirming the salacious invitation. Sloane giggles, biting her lip as she brings him another beer, finishing her shift with practiced motions. He closes his tab, feeling a mixture of anticipation and guilt nestle in his chest.

Stepping outside, he heads to his truck parked at the very back of the lot. He lights a cigarette, taking a long drag as he contemplates his decision. You still have time to back out, the angel on his shoulder reminds him, the voice of reason in the quiet night. But the devil, fueled by his sexual frustration, whispers back, Or you can keep doing what you’re doing and allow yourself one quick, good fuck to get your head back on straight.

He puffs away at his cigarette, the smoke curling up into the darkness as he weighs his options. The decision feels heavier than it should.

Sloane saunters out of the building, her eyes scanning the parking lot until they land on him. A flirty smile tugs at her lips as she draws closer.

“Thought you woulda changed your mind. Happy to see that wasn’t the case,” she teases, casually plucking the cigarette from between his lips. She takes a long drag, savoring it, before returning it to its original place.

Javier narrows his gaze, irritation and desire flickering in his eyes. “I should. Probably a dumb fuckin’ idea, but I don’t really give a shit at the moment.”

Her smile broadens into a smirk. “Got tired of watchin’ us from a distance and wanted to see the real thing up close?” Her nimble fingers toy with the button of his shirt, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she looks up at him.

His jaw flexes at the mention of his patrolling, a reminder of the line he’s about to cross. Javier shrugs, playing it cool. “Had to make sure you weren’t causing any trouble around here, sweetheart.”

She laughs, a sultry sound that dances around them. Slowly, she begins unbuttoning his shirt, her touch deliberate and teasing. “M’always causin’ trouble, officer, and I think you know it, too.”

Javier finishes off the cigarette, dropping it to the ground and smothering it. His large hands reach out, gripping her waist firmly as he swiftly switches their position. Pressing her against the side of his truck, he ducks his head, placing a few kisses along the line of her jaw. His lips trail down to her neck, eliciting a soft gasp from her as her hands roam over his now-exposed chest. 

Their lips meet in a heated kiss, making out passionately in the shadows of the nearly deserted parking lot. Sloane’s hand comes down to palm Javier through his jeans and he shudders, his own hand fidgeting with the door handle until he swings it open and ushers her to climb in.

Once they’re inside the spacious cab of his truck, Javier pulls Sloane into his lap and his tongue slips into her mouth, fingers digging into skin as they undress one another as best as they can in the confined space. He’s turned his mind completely off, losing himself in her eager touches and lustful moans.

“Knew you’d be good at this,” Sloane breathes out, tilting her head back as Javier begins to leave hungry kisses and lovebites all over her neck and collarbone. Back in Colombia, the girls at the brothel had jokingly given him the nickname Javi el Vampiro due to his bad habit of leaving marks. Once he realized it was bad for their business, he quit doing it.

He hasn’t changed a bit. The bite on Paloma’s shoulder an example of it, and now the evidence he’s eagerly leaving against Sloane’s pretty, flushed skin. Javier can’t get enough of her taste, her scent, the feeling of her writhing against him. He grinds his hips up as she presses down, both of them desperate for more friction, more contact, more release.

He hikes her skirt up, moving her panties to the side as two of his thick fingers press against her clit and she moans wildly, her wetness coating his digits.

No matter how bratty or self assured the women who pursue him act, they always succumb to his skilful touch.

“You like that, baby?” Javier asks with a tilt of his head, applying more pleasure as she mewls out a filthy yes. He slowly moves his fingers inside of her, fucking her gently as she moans and begs.

“Need to feel all of you,” Sloane selfishly requests in which he quickly complies, raising his hips to pull his jeans down to his mid thigh and he expertly grabs a condom, slipping it on.

Her hands rest on his shoulders so she can lean in to kiss him messily, biting on his lower lip. The tip of his cock nudges against her clit then down her slit, collecting her arousal. “Put it in, sweetheart.” He orders and she complies once he moves his hand, her small fingers wrapping around his thick base as she guides it to her weeping cunt, slowly sinking down on him.

“Shit,” Javier’s head falls back against the headrest at the feeling of her tight pussy clenching around him. The windows have fogged up due to their ministrations, and there’s a slight rock to his truck once she fully sits on him and begins to move her hips, tastefully alternating between bouncing and swiveling around. 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Sloane moans, her nails digging into his shoulders as she takes him on the ride of his fucking life.

He pinches her nipples then soothes the feeling over with his wet tongue, bringing her closer as he places open mouthed kisses all over her bouncing tits. The scratchy tickle of his mustache has her walls clenching around him viscerally. 

“I’m not, oh f-fuck, I’m not Paloma. You don’ have t’hold back.” She sputters, slowing her movements. Immediately his demeanor changes, pulling back from her chest and bringing his hand up to grip her jaw.

“Touchy subject. I know all about it,” she licks her lips, urging him to tighten his hold on her face, “S’okay baby. Take whatever you want from me,” her voice drops to a whisper, hips beginning to move again slowly and sensually. “I don’t mind bein’ used.”

The clasp on her jaw don’t relent, her filthy words stroking his kink for hearing beautiful women be so vulgar.

“That what you want, babygirl? For me to use this tight little pussy of yours?” His hand lowers from her jaw to wrap around her neck, thick fingers pushing in to the delicate skin. 

“Yes, please your cock feels fucking amazin’. You’re so big.” She relishes the feeling of his fingers wrapped around her neck and the lack of airflow, eyes fluttering shut and her lips parting open as he begins to thrust up into her, completely taking control. 

Javier’s free hand grips her waist, guiding her up and down roughly. “Atta girl. Takin’ it so good, baby.” His grunts and her moans interwoven with the obscene sounds of her squelching pussy and his rabid thrusts fill the air of the cab, bodies glistening in sweat as he fucks her like she’s nothing but a toy.

Her walls cling to his cock when she cums all over him, the creamy ring of her release evident against the condom as she shouts his name with a litany of expletives, falling forward against his chest.

Both of his hands find purchase guiding her ass, the change in angle enough to bring forth his own orgasm, shooting his load into the condom and leaving bruises along her supple skin.

Sloane breathes heavily against his neck, her soft kisses trailing along the column of his throat and under his jaw as he tries to steady his racing heart, already craving nicotine. 

“Mmm, that was fun. Save a horse ‘n ride a cowboy,” she giggles, pulling away to kiss him on the lips one final time before easing off his cock.

He only huffs as they straighten up and redress, stepping out of the truck. The subtle breeze offers a welcome relief from the heat that had built up inside the cab. Javier wastes no time lighting a cigarette, taking a deep drag and offering one to her, which she declines.

Tonight has been nothing but a blur of poor decisions, culminating in an act he can’t take back. The temporary relief he sought from his stress vanishes as they peel out. Alone with his thoughts, the magnitude of his actions begins to sink in. Fuck, why had he done it? Why hadn’t he just listened to his conscience and left? Why hadn’t he stopped when she said Paloma’s name?

Now he grapples with the repercussions of his colossal screw-up. Javier berates himself, unable to suppress the self-loathing that constantly gnaws at him but seems to be doing a real number on him now. How could he be so stupid, so weak? He let his primal, sexual urges eclipse his judgment, allowing a moment of feebleness to infiltrate his hardened demeanor and dictate his actions.

It’s the same vicious cycle he finds himself in constantly. The only difference is that he’s repeating it here and not back in Colombia.

With each drag of his cigarette, he replays the scene over and over, each time feeling a sharper sting of regret. 

He feels Sloane’s lips on his neck, her hands on his shoulders and the sweat from her body clinging to him uncomfortably. He wants to wash it all off, baptize himself in whatever body of holy water that’ll refine his morals and character.

Paloma is everything he wants, whether he wants to admit it or not—kind, compassionate, and genuine. He doesn’t deserve her, that much is apparent, but it doesn’t deter him from how strongly he feels about her; even if he tries to stifle it and acts out like a complete asshole in hopes that he can trick his heart and mind into dismissing her. To no avail.

He’s jeopardized any semblance of reconciliation for a fleeting moment of escapism with Sloane. The stress he thought he could shed by seeking solace in another’s arms has only deepened, leaving him feeling more burdened than before. The emptiness of the night echoes the hollowness he feels inside. No amount of nicotine is going to change that as he thinks about Paloma.

He imagines her face, the pain and disappointment she’ll feel if she finds out. It’s a look that he hates he’s so familiar with, having hurt her more times than he ever should have. All that cruelty he’s inflicted on her to keep himself from hurting her further down the line has only doubled back with a vengeance.

He really is a piece of shit, as he’s been reminded of plenty of times by a vast amount of people—not just women, but colleagues, higher-ups, everyone. Then in the same breath being called a hero. As if.

He’s a bad person, undeserving of Paloma’s or anyone else’s love and forgiveness. So much for him wanting to better himself. If his mother, may she rest in peace, were here–– she’d definitely be disappointed by the man her son has become.

I didn’t raise you to be like this.

His fists clench at his sides, discarding the finished cigarette as he leans against the hood of his truck, running his fingers through his hair.

To spit in the metaphorical face of the so-called respect and admiration he has for Paloma, over something as meaningless as a fleeting fucking moment of lust, fills him with a profound sense of shame. He stands there, staring into the darkness, wishing he could turn back time, make different choices, walk away, and preserve her dignity.

To erase the pain he keeps inflicting on this poor girl.

But the damage is done, he thinks bitterly. There's no undoing it. Now he has to face whatever consequences come his way, knowing that he’s long lost the best damn thing that’ll ever happened to him.

The realization cuts deep, a cold, hard truth that he can’t escape. Paloma’s bravado, her gentle nature, and the genuine connection they once shared—all of it is now further tainted by his continuous thoughtless actions.

Italian translations:

Guardati. Così bella. Così giovane. Avvicinati, la tua somiglianza con lei è sorprendente. = Look at yourself. So beautiful. So young. Come closer, your resemblance to her is striking.

Sarai una madre fantastica. Più grande di quella che ti ha preceduto. Tante vite perse e valorosamente sacrificate per far posto a te. Paloma, la matriarca della nuova era. = You will be an amazing mother. Bigger than the one before you. So many lives lost and valiantly sacrificed to make room for you. Paloma, the matriarch of the new age.

[simpforwebtoonmen]

to be proven wrong || Daniel x reader

where fem!reader is underestimated because of her gender.

warnings/notes: Daniel is bit misogynistic but grows out of it, reader is female, platonic. This was in my drafts for months so here you go.

-

“Let me-“ “no, you let me handle this,” Daniel puts an arm up in front of you to keep you from moving forward with the fight. You only scoffed, “whatever dude, don’t go crying for my help when you start getting your ass beat.” He rolled his eyes but moved forward toward his two opponents. They seemed strong and you were pretty sure Daniel won’t be able to take them both in a fight.

And as the fight when on, you were proven correct. Daniel was weak against their duo attacks, now being held back by one of them as the other beat him.

Finally, you stepped up, running up and jumping as you used both feet to kick one of them to the side. One went flying and before he could get back up, you beat him into an unconscious state. At that point, Daniel was also done with his opponent as he laid on the floor unconscious.

You thought what you did was a good thing, but apparently not as Daniel strides up to you with an obvious frown on his face. “I told you I would handle it,” he growled, his face inches away from yours. Now you were confused, “What? you were getting your ass handed to you! I think what you meant to say was ‘thank you’” you corrected, crossing your arms over your chest and frowned. He groaned and walked away, deciding that arguing with you wasn’t worth it.

You were confused. If you hadn't helped him he could've been hurt badly.

You ran ahead and stood in front of him to keep him from walking any further. At this point, you were fueling with anger. "You know, if it was Zack or Jay that came to your rescue, you would’ve thanked them and probably would’ve kissed them or something! But for some reason, it’s a problem when I do it! Why!?” You demanded.

“Because Zack and Jay are different from you, okay?!” he angrily responded. His jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed with anger and frustration He’s never been truly angry with you, let alone any of his other friends.

You suppose you were different from his other friends.

You nodded as if you understood, but truly you were even more confused. What makes you any different from the rest of his friends? “Okay…” you said in a hushed tone.

His anger began to lift as he observed your sad expression. He began to feel bad because he knew his reasons were petty. And as much as he hated discriminating against appearances, he just hated that you, a women that looks nothing like a fighter, might be a better fighter than he is. It made him salty and somewhat enraged, and he took it out on you. He didn’t know the specifics of it though. So in hopes that maybe you’d somehow understand, he told you the truth. “It’s because I hated the thought of you being just as strong as me, maybe even stronger…I don’t know why I hate it, but I do.”

Silence followed. Then a small laugh. “Does it have anything to do with me being a woman? Do you hate that a woman is about as strong as you? No, not even that, you probably hate that I am actually capable of handling myself instead of being someone's damsel in distress, is that it? Wow, talk about fragile masculinity.”

Daniel wasn’t able to utter a word afterwards, because you were right. And he felt incredibly guilty for feeling this way about you. And it wasn’t until you told him to “go fuck yourself” that he realized just how much he fucked up.

-

There was a knock on your front door. You stood up from the couch after pausing the film you were watching and opened the door. On the other side, you saw Daniel, little Daniel, though he wasn’t very small anymore. And of course, you knew of his two bodies (because plot and what y/n doesn’t know about his two bodies).

Usually, you’d be stoked to see him. But after your last interaction months ago, you haven’t found it in yourself to forgive him. Not after hearing how much of a hypocrite he was. You and him both knew that what he said that day was an entirely new low for him.

So, you sighed and leaned against your door frame, “may I help you?” you questioned him like he was the biggest bother to you. He only looked down in, what you could assume, shame. “(name),” he started, “can we talk?” he asked hesitantly.

And because he asked so nicely and looked like a kicked puppy, you accepted.

Now the two of you sat at a random swing set at an empty park. “What did you want to talk about?” you asked. “I,” he paused, “I want you to join my new crew.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “huh? crew? You have a crew now?” you were shocked. You were pretty sure Daniel hated crews and gangs and whatnot.

“Yeah, we’re called The Allied,” he perked up, his mood lifting just a bit. You hummed, “hmm, and why do you want me to join your crew?” you asked, interested in his answer, well, interested to see if he’s changed his views at all.

“Well…you’re one of the strongest fighters I know. And I’d just really love it if I had my best friend by my side again.”

“So, you’re no longer angry at the fact that I, a woman, is a strong fighter?”

“Of course not! I-I’ve grown out of that! I am…no longer the little boy you knew…”

You disguised your cringe by squinting, looking him up and down before laughing, “pfft, yeah right! Still look pretty little to me!"

[thechatsmeouch]

Ladybug Blues

Chapter Seven - Her Earrings

The force had knocked the wind out of him, making Chat sputter for air. He twisted his head to look at his attacker, expecting to see a new enemy, but it was Scarabella who hovered over him, her eyes ablaze with a fiery determination.

A hand reached for Chat Noir's ring, his miraculous.

"Chat Noir, as the holder of the miraculous of creation, I hereby demand you hand over the Black Cat Miraculous!" Scarabella's voice was a mix of anger and desperation. "You have proven to be a danger to not only me, but Paris as well. We can do this the easy way," Scarabella's fingers tightened around the ring. "Or we can do it the hard way, it's your choice."

Adrenaline spiked through Chat Noir's veins. He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd been so focused on getting the earrings, he hadn't even considered that Scarabella might come for his ring.

 "You think you can just take it from me?" He spat back, squirming under her grip. "You're wrong! Cataclysm!" He growled, black magic swirling around his fist as Scarabella quickly retreated her hand. He ignored the screams echoing throughout Paris.

The spotted heroine jumped away, creating distance between the two of them. She glared at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "What have you become, Chat Noir?" she exclaimed. "This isn't like you!"

"Isn't like me? You don't even know me!" Chat snarled. "How dare you call yourself the holder of creation? As if you could ever be Ladybug, you're the one who took her away from me!" He scrambled to his feet, the black magic still dancing around his fist. He sneered at the tears dripping from Scarabella's cheeks. Taking a few steps towards the girl, he shoved her against the alley wall, making sure not to use his ringed hand.

"I never wanted this," Scarabella whispered, her voice trembling. "But I'm not going to let you steal my miraculous! I know what you want it for, and I can't let you do it! You think I don't want to take your ring and wish for the chance to see her again, to be able to take back what happened?! But I won't! I'm not like you, I won't let my grief turn me into a monster!"

Chat Noir's eyes narrowed. "A monster..." He said through gritted teeth. "You've been a monster long before me, Alya!"

Scarabella's eyes grew wide, her grip on the brick wall loosening slightly. "How... How do you know my name..?" she stuttered.

The blonde smirked. "I know a lot of things, Alya. Things you wouldn't believe." His heart raced as he stepped closer, the magic surrounding his fist crackling with energy. "And I'm going to bring her back, no matter the cost."

"Even if the cost is your own life?! What if it were your father's -or your mother's?!" Scarabella gasped as Chat's claws suddenly dug into her throat, threatening to pierce through her suit. "Th-there's always a price, Chat! Think about this!"

He glared at her, his eyes reflecting the chaos of his thoughts. "I've already paid that price," he whispered, the anger in his voice palpable. "I've lost everything that ever mattered to me, and I'll be damned if I don't get her back." He glanced at his hand, and as if following a command, the bubbling magic receded, retreating into his ring. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Alya, and trust me, I don't mind getting my hands dirty."

Scarabella's eyes searched his, desperation swirling in the depths of her hazel orbs. "Please, they're all I have left of her,"

Chat Noir's grip tightened around her throat, his eyes cold and unwavering. "Everything I had of her was stolen from me. You have no right to ask for mercy," he hissed.

Scarabella's eyes grew misty, and she swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I can't let you do this!" She swung her leg up with every ounce of strength she had between Chat Noir's legs, sending waves of agony through him. He doubled over, and she took the opportunity to break free.

"Fuck!" Chat seethed, nausea rising as he crumpled to the ground. He'd underestimated Alya, let himself get distracted. In a rage, he lunged at Scarabella, tackling her to the ground. The concrete was unforgiving, but she rolled away and managed to stand, her eyes now filled with something he hadn't seen in them before - pure, unbridled fear. It fueled something inside of himself.

"You should be scared," he snarled, stalking towards her. "You should be scared of what I'll do to get her back!"

Her breath hitched, and it was as if Chat could see every beat of her heart through her suit, the fear practically radiated off of her.

"Chat... no..." she whispered, her hands reaching for her miraculous, her eyes never leaving his.

The air grew thick with tension as the two stared each other down, the sound of their breathing echoing through the alley. Adrenaline pumped through Chat's veins, turning his vision red. He knew he had to be careful. If he hurt Alya, if he lost control, he might never get the chance to apologize, to make things right. But the anger and pain that fueled him was too intense to ignore. He took a step closer, the magic in his ring pulsing with anticipation.

"I'm warning you, Alya," he said through clenched teeth. "Give me the earrings, or I'll take them."

Scarabella took a deep breath. "Never."

With a roar of frustration, Chat Noir lunged at her, but she was ready. She darted to the side, her foot sweeping out to catch him in the ankle and send him sprawling. He skittered to his feet, huffing in annoyance. This wasn't going to be easy.

They circled each other, both searching for an opening. Scarabella's eyes never left his ring, the source of his power. She knew that was his weakness. If she could just get it off of him, she might have a chance.

The fight began with a flash of movement, Chat Noir's hand shooting out to grab for her miraculous again. She dodged, the fabric of her suit whishing through the air as she moved. Scarabella retaliated with a burst of speed, her fist flying towards his face. He blocked it with his forearm, the force of the blow making him stumble back.

The alley was a blur of red and black as the two heroes clashed, each strike and parry a silent testament to their desperation. They danced around each other, their movements a deadly ballet of power and skill. Chat's eyes remained fixed on her miraculous, the source of all his pain and hope. He knew he had to get it, no matter the cost.

Chat Noir swung his baton, catching Scarabella off guard. She heaved, clutching her shoulder. This was his chance. He slammed it against her knee, and she crumpled to the ground. Without hesitation, he dashed forward, straddling the heroine, and pinning her wrists above her head.

Scarabella thrashed underneath his weight, tears spilling from her eyes.

"No! She shrieked, her eyes wild with fear and pain. "Please, please they're all I have," She sobbed, trying to buck him off. "Marinette wouldn't want this, Chat, she'd want you to move on, b-be happy!"

Her words were a knife to his heart, but he ignored them, his focus solely on the earrings. "Marinette is dead because of you," he spat, his eyes flashing with anger. his free hand held her throat tight, cutting off her air supply. "You act like you loved her, yet you're the one who killed her!"

Scarabella was flailing her legs now, struggling to free herself as both of his hands dug into her skin, warmth seeping between his claws. "You're... hurting me," she choked out, her eyes wide with fear.

But Chat Noir was beyond caring. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her face. "Good," he snarled. "You deserve it." His hand shot up, claws aiming for the earrings, but she moved her head at the last second, and he only managed to snag a few strands of hair.

He pressed harder, grinning wildly at the sound of Scarabella gargling, presumably choking on her own blood. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her body went slack. He felt a twinge of something—was it guilt?—but it was quickly buried under his need for the miraculous. His hand shot to her ear, but she must have had some fight left in her because she managed to smack his hand away.

Chat huffed, moving up to hold her arms down with his knees. Finally, he plucked the spotted studs from the girl's ears. In doing so, Scarabella quickly faded to Alya, breathing weakly as tears poured from her eyes. Quiet sobs filled the alley as Chat Noir held the earrings in his hand, a strange mix of anger and relief welling up in his chest. It was then that he remembered the akumatized villain, but the screams and sounds of destruction had long since stopped.

"Although I'm not sorry, Alya, I hope you can forgive me when Marinette is back." Chat Noir whispered as he slowly stood, allowing the girl to curl up into a pathetic ball on the ground, her sobs only getting louder. He watched as she gripped her bleeding neck, a puddle of drying blood soaking her hair.

He didn't wait around to see the aftermath of his actions, instead sprinting off into the night, the stolen earrings in his pocket feeling like a burning coal. His mind raced, his heart thundered in his chest. He raced to Marinette's balcony, practically throwing himself into the trapdoor when he landed.

Chat Noir sat at Marinette's desk, and set the earrings down. Now that he had them, he almost felt paralyzed. What was worse? Not even knowing how to use them. He released his transformation, Plagg immediately zoomed in front of his face, staring at the miraculous.

"I can't believe it kid, you actually did it..." Plagg murmured, his eyes wide. "But what now?"

Adrien stared at the earrings, his heart pounding. Now what indeed. He didn't know how to use them, but he knew he had to try. He didn't care if it was dangerous or if it could change everything. All he cared about was getting Marinette back. He picked up the earrings, feeling their weight in his palm. "Now," he whispered, "we bring her back."

The blonde's hands trembled as he put the miraculous in his ears, poking through holes that had closed up many months ago. A flash of pink revealed a very confused and distraught Tikki, big blue eyes searching the room before landing on Adrien.

"Adrien?" she squeaked. "What are you-" then she saw Plagg, his expression unreadable. "How did you-?"

Adrien gave her a small smile. "Tikki, I need your help," he said, his voice strained. "I know this is dangerous, but I can't live without her."

The tiny kwami gasped, covering her mouth. She shook her head rapidly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "No, Adrien," she whispered, her voice quivering. "I- as much as I love and miss Marinette, I can't help you make the wish... You'd be no better than Hawkmoth if I did."

Adrien's expression fell, the reality of his situation crashing down around him. Was he the only one who cared for Marinette enough to bring her back? To right all the wrongs, to save her? Rage swelled up inside him as he stood abruptly.

"Fine, you don't wanna help me? I'll do it myself then!" He exclaimed, doing his best to keep his voice down. "Marinette was Ladybug, she has to have something in here explaining how to make the wish!" Adrien searched, gently at first, but as hours passed he became more frantic, knocking over books and tearing through drawers.

The boy collapsed to his knees, a sob breaking through his lips as he pulled his hair. He knew she would keep something, anything detailing the wish. "Marinette," he whispered to himself, his heart aching. "What do I do?"

Plagg hovered around him, his ears drooping. "Look, kid, maybe this isn't such a good idea," he began tentatively.

"What do you mean?" Adrien snapped, his eyes still glued to the mess he'd made of Marinette's room. "I-I can't just give up now, I got the earrings, what am I supposed to do, fucking give them back?!"

"Adrien, please, just think about it," Plagg pleaded, his little body landing on Adrien's shoulder. "You don't know what could happen if you use them like this, without understanding-"

"I don't care!" Adrien shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls of Marinette's room. "I can't just sit here and do nothing! I need her back, Plagg!"

He looked around again, catching sight of Tikki looking somberly at Marinette's bed.

No, not just her bed, her mattress!

Adrien stood slowly, and stepped to the loft, shaking hands reaching for the mattress. He knew it was a long shot, but desperation fueled his every move. Lifting it, his eyes searched the space beneath. A glint caught his eye, and his heart skipped a beat. There, nestled between the bed frame and the floor, was a small, pink polka-dotted journal.

He grabbed it hastily, taking a seat on the chaise as he flipped through it. Multiple suicide notes and entries about how bad the bullying was brought tears to Adrien's eyes, salty tears dripping onto the pages. How had he not known the full extent of it all? Pages and pages of 'stupid, worthless, nothing' repeated over and over again. It was like reading Marinette's soul and it broke his heart into a million pieces.

He guiltily flipped a few more pages, and landed on one that caught his eye.

'I begged Tikki to tell me about the wish, just to give me a clue,' the words on the page seemed to whisper to him. His eyes widened with hope. This was it, this had to be it.

'I told her I was only curious, that I should know because it's my miraculous on the line, right? But... maybe it was because I wanted to know, in case it got too bad. I could wish myself a better life, one with a husband, three kids and a hamster... But that's only a fantasy."

Below was a ritual, the ritual, to make a wish using the miraculous of the Black Cat, and the Ladybug.

Adrien read it what felt like a hundred times, his heart racing. "Plagg," he said, his voice a whisper, "this is it."

He stood in the center of Marinette's room, taking a deep breath. He could do this, he had to. Plagg hovered around him, his expression a mix of fear and doubt. "You're sure about this?"

"I love her too much to continue my life without her." Adrien said, his voice calmer than it's ever been.

"Adrien, before you do it, you must know that the way the wish works... It's an eye for an eye type of deal." Tikki spoke, hovering toward the blonde. "If you bring her back, someone else has to die, it could be anyone. Your father, your best friend, or someone you've never met... Even you. Please, think about this."

"What if... I just wanted a redo of that day? To be able to save her life, like I should have?" Adrien whispered. "I just want to go back, Tikki."

Tikki's eyes softened. "I know, Adrien. I miss her too. But we shouldn't play with fate like that. It's not our place. To change one's fate can have a strange way of turning on oneself."

Adrien nodded solemnly, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. He knew Tikki was right, but the pain was unbearable. He had to do this.

"Tikki, Plagg, reveal yourselves." He commanded, the kwami's sharing knowing glances before taking their true forms. They were equally torn by his decision. "I know the risks, but I can't live in a world without her. This is my only chance."

The gods looked down at him, in his fragile state. He'd lost a significant amount of weight in the past two months, his eyes never held the light they had before. dark bags hung from them, as if they hadn't seen rest in a lifetime. With one more glance to each other, they nodded.

"Gimmi, reveal yourself," Adrien whispered, his voice hoarse from anxiety. "Please."

In an instant, the gods before himself merged into one cosmic being, Gimmi. They took a moment to take in their surroundings, a small grimace on their face.

"It's a bit pink for a boy like you," Gimmi commented. "A bit messy too."

Adrien stood for a few seconds, stunned by the sight of Gimmi before he gathered his thoughts. "I need to make a wish," he stated, his voice firm despite the tremble in his hands. "To bring Marinette back."

ch.1

ch.2

ch.3

ch.4

ch.5

ch.6

sorry for the brief hiatus lol, i got very caught up with work and life stressors, but after maybe midway through next month i should be better! anyway lemme know what u think of this chapter pls!!!!!!

[avalonia320]

Claudia's Revenge

It's officially October in 13 minutes here so I'm posting an excerpt from the next upcoming chapter of my IWTV fic, Darkest Before the Dawn. The Ghost Claudia storyline is starting to rev up and I'm getting excited to write it. Plus bonus Daniel!

***

Louis du Lac! You there? 

Daniel, he smiled as he opened the door. It’s about time. He hesitated a moment, taking a deep breath. Actually, it’s sooner than I expected. I thought your research would take longer. What have you found?

He could feel the hesitation before Daniel spoke. Louis, we need to do this in person. Why the fuck are you still in New Orleans? 

Louis could feel himself tensing as he walked inside. What did you find, Daniel?

Let’s talk about it when you get here. I’m in L.A. You could be here before dawn if you head to the airport now.

I can’t. I have…things going on. Tell me what you found.

Daniel sighed extra heavily for his benefit. It seems you may have been right.

Louis closed his eyes. How many?

Dammit Louis, I’m worried about you.

How many, Daniel? 

A resigned groan. 196 deaths that I could verify. There’s probably more, but the records are gone, or families didn’t want the stigma associated with their loved ones death.

You found almost 200 deaths that you could connect to the Theater des Vampires over 70 years ago in a three day period? While you’re on a press tour?

Daniel snorted. Don’t underestimate my investigative abilities.

Oh, I’ve learned the folly of that already. Nor would I doubt your connections at the Talamasca. Louis smiled despite himself.  I thought they were trying to cut you off. Something about you prying where they didn’t want you to.

Yes but my source is not above a little bribery. Which was not cheap, by the way. Turns out the Talamasca had the same thought you did, but only about fifty years earlier. They had a whole file.

I see. What was the common denominator?

The deaths are all within a year after the trial. They’re also all eerily similar. A rash of suicides or homicides, depending on whatever conclusions the local investigators came up with. Same MO for each one. Each victim had slashing wounds and died from severe burns. Only ones that were different were an Army transport carrier that crashed upon takeoff with 15 soldiers returning to the US from Paris. It was confirmed the troop had visited the Theater des Vampires the week before. It was covered up, of course, blamed on a mechanical failure, but the truth is, the bodies that were recognizable enough to be examined all had severed Achilles tendons. The plane caught fire on impact. Coroner concluded most of them lived through the crash, and some could have survived if they had tried to get out of the plane. They didn’t. They sat there and burned to death. Internal reports blamed severe PTSD that caused some kind of mass psychosis. 

Claudia, Louis whispered.

Claudia, Daniel confirmed.  I’ve got to be honest, Louis. This is freaking me the fuck out. 

She told them she’d kill them all, Louis was still whispering more to himself than anyone else.

Yeah, well there’s certainly the argument that they all had it coming.  

I knew it was real. I knew she was still here, Louis stood up and began to pace the room. I think I’ve found a way to talk to her.

Talk to her? Why the hell would you want to do that? Louis, I’m serious. Let this go. If it’s been 70+ years and she hasn’t shown up in your bathroom mirror yet, I think you’re safe. Maybe it’s just what she needed to do to rest in peace. My suggestion is you let her continue to do so. 

She’s not resting. I’ve seen her. 

Fuck me, Daniel groaned even more loudly.  Every time I think you couldn’t possibly say something more horrifying, I’m sadly proven wrong. What the fuck do you mean, you’ve seen her?

Exactly that.  She’s here in New Orleans. She led me to someone who can help.

Please tell me it’s an exorcist.

Not exactly. She’s a waitress. Her name is Lillie.  She can see ghosts.

A waitress named Lillie that can see ghosts. There was a thumping noise and Louis was pretty certain Daniel was banging his head into something. I hate this for you. No, you know what?  I hate this for ME. The girl was scary enough when she was only a vampire. Slap ‘vengeful ghost with mind control powers’ on top of that and it gets exponentially more terrifying.  You’re gonna unleash her and somehow manage to survive the fallout just like you do everything else and I’m the one who’s gonna get Bloody Mary’d by Ghost Claudia. 

Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise. 

Yeah, I distinctly remember you saying that to me several times before. If Claudia kills me, bet I’m coming back to haunt your ass.

[not-goldy]

Jokers are just jk biased dimwits if they care about jm you could have seen them taking stance for jm, his achievements are being stolen and given to jk we ain't telling you to post stuff against jk we are telling you to stand for jm, you are using him for fantasies atleast give some support to him in return too

Thats fair but I don't think anyone can steal JIMIN'S ACHIEVEMENTS. They certainly can try.

HIS MERE EXISTENCE IS AN ACHIEVEMENT

He is the most hard working idol in allllllllllll Kpop.

Undisputed. Unchallenged.

When he says, THIS IS JIMIN- HE MEANS THIS IS YOUR KING BITCHES. PARK FREAKING JIMIN! ROOKIE BIBLE BEAUTY GODDESS DANCE KING.

He knows WHO HE IS AND WHAT HE BRINGS TO THE TABLE.

NO ONE CAN TAKE THAT AWAY FROM HIM.

His mere existence is a work of art and everything he does is just- perfect.

He's a trailblazer. Pace setter. And He sets records.

Sure that record can be broken and has been broken by him and other artists so what? HAVE YOU SEEN HIS COME BACK???

Watch out for his come back.

You think people would move heaven and hell just so they can say they beat his record if he hadn't set the record so high????

He is the standard. He will forever be the standard.

Personally I admire whoever tries to beat his records because I know it's no small feet.

This is his playground and you better slay or go home.

Look what he did with the little budget he has.

That's what makes him great. That's what makes him an excellent achiever. NO ONE CAN STEAL THAT FROM HIM.

The boys from BTS are the best in the game- every single one of them and they bring the pressure. They were great before the fame before the resources was thrown at them and they are great without those resources.

Park Jimin certainly holds his own.

I'm sorry but he's not losing.

I take offense at that.

I'm looking forward to his comeback. If this is what he can do with little investment and company backing he will bust the crust open if he gets the resources.

He has proven worthy of every single investment and I know he has investors lined up. He can only go big from here.

I don't want to bring Jungkook into this but with all the money thrown at him be better prove to investors he is worth it and my God has he proven that!!!!

Investors don't care about achievements. They care about turning a profit on their investments. The bigger the risk the bigger the reward.

I think hybe should TREAT THEM EQUALLY. give them an equal budget and equal company backing. If they are discriminating against certain members and playing favoratism they don't need me to tell them that's wrong. They know they deadass wrong for that.

And it would make so much sense for the members affected by their blatant favoritism to drop them. They made hybe hybe. They can take their large following and social currency to the millions of companies trying to poach them.

Jimin is worth the investment. It's a shame if anyone can't see that. It's a shame hybe doesn't treat him like he is worth the investment.

My job as a fun is to focus on supporting his music his career.

I fail to believe a company that's exploited his image his body his sexuality and pushed him to produce some of the masterpieces of all time, visually vocally and performance wise- I'm talking Promise, Filter, Serendipity, Blackswan- that this same company is underestimating him.

A company that knew to tell him to expose his body to screaming fans, who take pride in the fact he bruises and bleeds through the pain rehearsing for hours, starving himself singing till his throat hurts- that this is the same company telling him someone else is worth the investment not him.

We either don't know the whole story and can't see the full picture or Jimin is stuck in a Stockholm syndrome dynamic with that company.

I like to think Jimin is holding out for after MS to go full on global domination mode. And I like to think hybe is saving up for him for after MS when he does a proper comeback. If not hybe has a lot of explaining to do because it's glaringly obvious they've put more resources into other members than him.

That's a fact. We can cry about, rant about it, send trucks- it does make a difference because it's better to let hybe know we on to them and won't tolerate this discrimination if it's deliberate on their part. The truck sender stans are so on point for this. It's the most effective way of holding hybe accountable.

The rants and buzz is also great in creating awareness to the situation and having media sites pick up the story will put enough pressure on hybe.

But do we have to be toxic while doing so? Mentally abusing a member is not standing up for anyone. It goes against everything Park Jimin stands for. Especially since he himself gets traumatized by other stans and over the stupidest things.

Be a good human. How about that accountability? Who's gonna hold us accountable for being a shitty human beings? We should care about our stans but we shouldn't lose our humanity in the process.

I just like to wait it out to see what the end game is.

I'm here. Gathering reciepts for the day of reckoning.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

I've not spoken much here about not really having been enjoying Frieren that much since it started - it was definitely fine I just wasn't connecting with it quite how I hoped to, and were it not for the production I'd be off the ride already. But man I really do have to say that these past three, maybe 4 episodes? The Aura arc I guess you'd say. Has just kinda fucking sucked lol. Already rough from premise alone, let's introduce more human demons and clearly establish them as having culture and intelligence, and then we set them up as wanting to do peace talks or whatever before Frieren starts being super racist towards them and then the show bends over to justify her racism. Like yeah sure the demons are now textually evil so Frieren's in the right but by god painting sympathy towards a persecuted group and then turning around and saying "every member of this group is intrinsically evil" is like irrefutably shitty. Ideally the show would do something with the whole passage of time and winds of change thing and prove Frieren wrong but I'm not here to engage with hypotheticals so who even gives a fuck, what's in front of me is shitty.

But fine, move past that, we really shouldn't but let's do that. Now the entire basis upon which this arc operates is us the viewer knowing Frieren is A) right and B) stronger than God, so we wait for the catharsis of her being proven right and killing Aura. Which is like 4 episodes of setup by the way! And yeah I mean. She does those things. Stark and Fern get some genuinely exciting-to-look-at fights in the middle of this. Frieren confronts Aura at the end of one episode and then it takes 2 episodes to see that followed up on, most of the runtime of the latter episode being a flashback dedicated to teaching us about the fact that... Frieren suppresses her magic so demons underestimate her. Like a fucking shounen protagonist. I don't even wanna engage with this weird recontextualisation of Frieren's character that makes her substantially less interesting, instead I wanna say that Frieren suppressing her magic was established fucking forever ago and Frieren being like 1000 was established forever ago but the ultimate climax of this arc is just her saying those things to the villain and her being shocked but who gives a fuck? We already knew this. I'm not on Aura's side here like I'm not invested in her shock, and Frieren stating those things as if they're anything new to us just feels like a waste. Apparently hiding your power level is despicable for a mage but says who other than demons who I know are textually evil anyway right? For all this we don't even get a cool fight Frieren just tells Aura to kill herself and she does and we move on, that's where our 80 minutes of buildup and Aura's suspenseful prominence in the OP led to. All this arc did was waste my time and be racist man.

I just don't understand the hype whatsoever. What do Frieren fans see in this. Better yet, why aren't they mentioning any of this when selling the show to people. Frieren is a contemplative and nostalgic insight into the life of a near immortal being and an exploration of how her experience with the passage of time changes her and how the people around her react to her, as well as a thematic exploration of the impact we have after death and how people remember us. That's what people will tell you Frieren is. They won't tell you it's a shounen action series where characters suppress their power levels and where the main character gets her skirt flipped up by a kid or they make small dick jokes about a main character. Like do Frieren fans talk about this amongst themselves? Like they've gotta acknowledge it right, there's no way they just don't even talk about what the series actually is. There's no way they're so insecure about liking a fantasy action series that they try prop it up as this commentary on the human condition just to hide the scene where Stark says he looks like he pissed himself. I'll admit this last paragraph is just me being angry at "oh anime fans" and isn't really building off my more legitimate criticisms from the prior paragraphs, but idk man Frieren's just so not what I expected and even though I think I'm doing a good enough job engaging with it on its own level it's still managing to disappoint me. I really am just here for the production whoring at this point. Style over substance to the maximum.

[megamind2010]

😰even if nell never admitted his love caseys life was still ruined so you could also say her mindset was proven wrong since the avoidance didnt like... save casey from that. also im pretty sure i remember an AU where casey dies instead? no coherent thoughts about that, just thinking...

oh absolutely shes still stupid its more that her thesis of "love causes misery" was shown to be true LMFAO

she didnt do a very good job at actually avoiding it. her shortsightedness and underestimation of caseys feelings, plus the selfish (to her mind) desire to have casey close to her, means that no matter how you slice it she failed. failed to protect casey from the effects of losing someone AND failed to allow HERSELF to truly experience the joy that comes before grief! because thats the really heartbreaking thing about it all to me, the way nell only focuses on the bad stuff that comes after... yes the grief hurts because there was genuine happiness. but there will always be grief and loss and pain, thats unavoidable, so why cut yourself off from the happiness too? ack. she makes me SICK

casey dies au is really sickening nauseating headache inducing because its a much more direct way that nells mindset ruins caseys life... in this world its worse because umm. arguably it leads to caseys death. on nells side though yeah she is fucked up badly over it but she does have the support of ted and michelle to like, force her to stay with them in a hotel in the short term so they can keep an eye on her and make sure shes eating and sleeping... which nell RESENTS because shes doing exactly what she never wanted to do, being a burden on those around her! (he has no idea that there is a large difference between a young child being forced to become a parent to their younger siblings versus adult friends voluntarily supporting someone they care about) (well he does know that but ummm whatever)

thats why in this au nell takes months to get around to telling spider that casey is dead. michelle offers to call but nell wants to stop feeling like she and ted are doing everything that HE should be doing so he says he can do it, it should be his responsibility, etc etc. and since nell is the only one who actually met spider it makes sense right? coming from someone she at least kind of knows rather than a stranger... but every time nell sits down to make the call he just thinks about how much its going to hurt spider to find out. and how hes already killed casey and has this much grief inside of him so imagine what caseys MOTHER must feel... so he puts it off. and puts it off. until finally he cant put it off anymore but by then its been eight months and not only has he killed her daughter hes also hidden it from her and basically fucked everything up irreparably. oooooooopsy

umm so basically nell if you talked about your feelings and were a little more open and vulnerable maybe bad things wouldnt happen to you. IDIOT

[lunar-beauty]

stancy and similar character arcs/parallels

season 1:

nancy and steve discovered and faced supernatural monsters to protect people they care about

they both had friends who were against them dating

they both had instances where they chose each other over their best friends (nancy chose being with steve over leaving with barb & steve dropped his friends because of the way they treated nancy)

season 2:

they both pretended that things were okay to cope with trauma (i know we mostly talk about steve doing this but nancy admitted she did this as well)

and put others before themselves (nancy prioritized getting justice for barb over her own safety & steve let nancy go for her sake even though he still loved her)

season 3:

nancy and steve were both unhappy with their jobs and things weren’t going the way they had planned. nancy had wanted to do some real work at the paper but ended up being tasked with running errands instead & steve had meant to go to college but he ended up not getting accepted anywhere

they wanted to be taken seriously, nancy as a journalist and steve as a romantic partner, but both their efforts were meant with laughter and scorn.

they both readily got involved in separate mysteries (the rat story and the russian plot)

they were both underestimated by people they care about. jonathan underestimated nancy’s investigative abilities and dustin underestimated steve’s fighting abilities, but they were both proven wrong

steve and nancy both had leadership roles within their respective groups and put themselves on the line to protect the kids (steve getting captured by the russians after buying time to help dustin and erica escape & nancy putting herself in front of jonathan and the kids as she tried to stop billy from crashing his car into them)

season 4:

they were both experiencing relationship problems (nancy was having problems with jonathan & steve was having problems forming a real connection with his dates)

they were both in denial about something and eventually came to terms with it (nancy was in denial about the fact that she’s been having problems with jonathan & steve was in denial about his feelings for nancy)

they again took leadership roles within the group, helped contribute to the investigation, and tried to protect everyone