#leading to arson attempt

[trooper1023]

I've been angrily asking for months, "Where the fuck did all the 'genocide of Gaza' accusations at the Democratic party come out of?!"

I never saw any ads or articles on the topic of the Democratic Presidencial Candidate and running mate for 2024 being all in on supporting Netanyahu's regime act like Nat-Sees upon the residents of Gaza.

Today on my lunch break, I found this. A real piece of the horrible puzzle. I had no idea that "NoGenocideJosh.com" was a thing.

The Lies About Josh Shapiro Have Consequences

An attack on the Pennsylvania governor shows the dangers of tendentious misrepresentations.

By Yair Rosenberg, writing for The Atlantic

Early Sunday morning, a man named Cody Balmer allegedly attempted to burn down the official residence of Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, just hours after Shapiro and his family had finished their Passover seder. Photos from the scene captured the charred remains of the religious books they’d used that evening. In an affidavit for a search warrant, police said that the assailant had told a 911 operator that he’d targeted Shapiro “for what he wants to do to the Palestinian people.” Balmer later told police that he’d planned to beat the governor with a hammer had he encountered him. He faces eight charges, including attempted homicide.

Attempting to murder an American Jew over the actions of completely different Jews thousands of miles away in the Middle East is textbook anti-Semitism. But in the case of Shapiro, it’s particularly perverse, because the governor supports Palestinian statehood and has been a harsh critic of Israel’s leadership. “I personally believe Benjamin Netanyahu is one of the worst leaders of all time,” he told reporters back in January 2024, months before then–Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer called on the Israeli prime minister to resign. Shapiro sharply condemned anti-Semitic protesters on university campuses but distinguished them from non-extremist demonstrators, and defended the prerogative of “young people to righteously protest and question”—a stark contrast to the current administration, which has been deporting foreign students for their speech.

Given Shapiro’s actual positions, how might someone get the impression that he is somehow responsible for Israel’s actions and in lockstep with its leadership? Most people would not even know, let alone care about, their Rust Belt governor’s position on a foreign conflict. But most governors weren’t the target of a national campaign effectively blaming them for Israel’s conduct. Last summer, when then–Vice President Kamala Harris was choosing her running mate, Shapiro emerged as a top contender, thanks to his robust electoral popularity in an indispensable swing state. And just as quickly, hard-left activists and congressional staffers attempted to pressure Harris not to pick him. “Tell Kamala and the Democrats now: Say no to Genocide Josh Shapiro for Vice President,” declared the site .

In an open democracy, there is nothing wrong with forcefully advocating for Palestinians or against Israel—whatever the Trump administration might say. But there was something very wrong with the Genocide Josh campaign. As political commentators noted at the time, no such campaign was marshalled against any other prospective vice-presidential front-runner, despite all of them having the same—or more hawkish—views on Israel as Shapiro. For example, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, the preferred candidate of many in the anti-Shapiro movement, had a long pro-Israel record dating back to his time in the House of Representatives. As a congressman, he voted to condemn a United Nations resolution against Israeli settlements that President Barack Obama had allowed to pass; called Israel “our truest and closest ally in the region, with a commitment to values of personal freedoms and liberties, surrounded by a pretty tough neighborhood”; and met with Netanyahu personally, releasing a photo to the media of the two of them standing side by side.

As governor, Walz said of the Gaza campus protests: “I think when Jewish students are telling us they feel unsafe in that, we need to believe them, and I do believe them,” adding that “creating a space where political dissent or political rallying can happen is one thing; intimidation is another.” Some pro-Palestinian activists were arrested after protesting outside his residence. Walz and Shapiro advanced the same position on ending the Gaza war—except that Shapiro said that a solution would “ideally” happen without Netanyahu, whom he called “a destructive force for Israel over time,” whereas Walz never openly criticized the Israeli leader.

None of this inspired any progressive pushback, presumably because Walz is not Jewish, and so was not seen as inherently suspect and secretly in hock to Israeli interests. Put another way, the Genocide Josh movement singled out a Jewish candidate for censure over Israel while tendentiously misrepresenting his stance on the issues in order to discredit him. This was not an expression of traditional sharp-elbowed American political discourse, but rather an echo of ancient antipathies.

Since the attempted murder of Shapiro, we have learned that his assailant may have suffered from severe mental illness. Balmer’s mother told CBS News that he “went off his medication,” and that her pleas for local police to get him “picked up” the week before had gone unanswered. In the aftermath of such incidents, there is often an unfortunate impulse to stigmatize mental illness as the source of societal prejudice. But those struggling with internal demons don’t originate our external ones; they reflect them. In their confusion and pain, such individuals latch on to those already targeted by the broader culture and its preexisting pathologies, showing us not who they are, but who we are. This is why deeply troubled people—from Kanye West (now known as Ye) to the murderouslydisturbed—have more often gone afterJewish people than, say, the Amish. Weakened minds tend to be overtaken by strong currents.

Crimes like the one against Shapiro hold up a mirror to our collective biases. In this case, it appears that high-profile deceptions and double standards about a Jewish politician’s Israel stance contributed to an unwell person trying to kill him. The Passover attack is a warning: If we don’t reckon with the lies about Jews in our public sphere, we will see more lies, and more of their consequences.

[causeimcrayzeebee]

Wolfgang Akire through the lens of the law: an analysis

i would like to give a disclaimer that while im very interested in the law, im not a lawyer or in law school. my knowledge comes from the few law classes i have taken, participation in a couple mock trials, and some personal research, so please take this with a grain of salt! if im missing something or saying something inaccurate, please let me know! i am always open to learning more!! not to mention this is my understanding of law in the United States, so this may differ by country.

in the end, this isn’t meant to be too serious, just using the knowledge i do have and applying it to p:eg!!!

okay now spoilers for the prologue and all of chapter 1!

well ig before we get into it let me say rest in peace a king... I will miss you, you hypocritical bastard........

alright, so firstly, let’s consider Wolfgang’s character profile.

two things stand out to me here. the first is how he has “successfully defended over 200 of his clients without dropping a single case.” we can infer that Wolfgang is a criminal defense attorney. it’s possible he could be a lawyer in the civil law sector instead, but considering his strong feelings about murder and crime, and the fact that this is Danganronpa, it leads me to believe he is a criminal attorney for the sake of relevance (I don't think any of us would care if he were a corporate attorney after all).

now, that sentence you just read is particularly interesting in the case of Wolfgang Akire. From the prologue's mock trial, we can see that Wolfgang feels very passionately about murder, condemning the murderer even without insight as to why they committed the crime, instead big on retribution and justice (which the definition of could definitely be debated). Yet, as a defense lawyer, Wolfgang would have been defending people from criminal accusations, from anything to armed robbery, arson, or murder. we’re not particularly sure on his view of other crime, but we can assume he also has a similarly negative view of it that he has of murder. out of 200 people (within such a short time span of finishing law school too), what are the odds that out of all 200, not one of them was actually guilty? of course, lawyers have the ability to drop or not take on cases, but as his profile says, he hasn’t dropped a single case! it’s quite possible he had complete faith that every client was innocent, but with the evidence and files he’d have to go through, he had to have seen something that was damning and prepared accordingly to address in the most sympathetic way possible to avoid prosecution winning their case. and that's the thing with Wolfgang; his job requires building sympathy for the accused, and it requires sowing seeds of doubt in prosecution's case. there had to have been someone that he was defending from an accurate charge(s). so whether he knew it or not, he has very likely defended people guilty of crime; and yet, he still feels very adamantly against them.

Here's where I fall short on my analysis; I honestly do not know what to make of this conclusion. his behavior and his ideals are almost contradictory in a sense. is this insight to wolfgang's clear hypocrisy? but what does that really say about him? I'd love to know what any of y'all think in regards to this :0

Now, the second thing that stands out to me is that he wants to make sure that everyone is fairly represented and make sure logic and evidence drive the discussion. While this does seem to be true, the mock trial shows that he lets his feelings become a big part of the discussion as well. everything he does screams prosecutor to me, so it was shocking to find out he works as defense. Wolfgang has a very interesting way of viewing things, almost dichotomous, unlike what his profile says. it's similar to the format of a trial, where it's not meant to be a team working together to find the complexities and nuance within a certain issue, but rather an attempt to prove your point and disprove the other side. trials aren't supposed to be a discussion where everyone reaches the truth together (Danganronpa trials are not very accurate but of course I don't think they were intended to be in the first place), they are for you to win your case-- as a defense attorney, its poking as many holes into the prosecution’s case as possible. (little fun side note, this is very similar to how debate works; Wolfgang and Damon are a lot more alike than one would originally think.)

Considering all of this, it makes me wonder if Wolfgang was intentionally trying to split the group apart,,,, because it's easier. because it makes more sense. as defense, lawyers may pin the crime on another, but without the burden of proof that prosecution does, they can sling out accusations to increase doubt on prosecutions case without having to actually prove it (that would be left for a separate case). it's easier to divide a group and have a bunch of people follow you while isolating the 'other side', and with that division made, it's more likely someone you isolated will be the 'villian' anyways; and in this case, this was true-- Eva, who has been socially ostracized her whole life, was driven to murder to protect herself from the blinding fear that everyone was out for her (even if that wasn't entirely true). this could be just how Wolfgang has gotten used to going through his life. maybe the bad habits he picked up from his father were the divisive kind of us vs them mindset lawyers have to have in a courtroom.

speaking of his father, let's address the motive-- there's so many things that Wolfgang's blackmail could be about; faking his law degree, not taking the bar exam, defending horrible people, the list goes on. Honestly, a scenario i have considered is that it's about him defending his father for a crime he actually did commit, yet winning the case; or his father commuting a crime in general and winning his case, leaving Wolfgang conflicted as that is the sort of thing he does all the time, yet his father had just taken away his mothers life and gotten free (this is very much just me guessing a possibility though). when Wolfgang was hallucinating, he says he's not like them (to diana who he thinks is someone else) and he'll never be like them; It's most likely that he saw his father. the theory I'm going with right now is that his father was at the very least heavily involved in the likely murder of his mother (thus bring her back in reference to his mom). his father was probably also a lawyer and may have pushed wolfgang into going into the field himself, especially when he sent him to law school as a teenager. maybe Wolfgang wanted to live up to the expectations his father had of him. who knows exactly what Wolfgang wanted everyone to know him as, it was probably a long the lines of a competent lawyer. but, as of right now it's all speculation (objection! haha.... that was not funny my bad), so again, I'd love to hear some thoughts.

Another little funny thing i'd like to note is when Damon and Eva come back to the dinning hall and Wolfgang asks where they've been, Damon responds saying it was for discussing the motive. He's internally smug about how defeated Wolfgang seemed to be by that, and I thought that the funniest shit; very similar to being on cross examination, thinking you have the witness in your hands, when suddenly they wiggle out of your accusation. he's so real for that.

that is pretty much all i've got so far! let me know what y'all think and thanks for reading!!! :)

[eyesofbong]

A Chrollo x F!Hunter Reader Fic | Summary

Best advised to be read in dark mode. AO3 link coming soon!

★ 18+ MDNI WARNINGS: descriptive murder, burning of corpses, torture?, arson, slight implication of attempted suicide, gore, blood, violence, strong mentions of sexual abuse towards children including human trafficking, implied kidnapping, perversion of innocence, predators, CP, and implied rape. (NO I DO NOT ENDORSE THE ABUSE OF CHILDREN. it is only briefly mentioned since it is disgusting to keep the story realistic and strictly used as awareness since this is actual problems in the real world they don't just kidnap children. I WILL NEVER! write about non-con with underage characters or children, rape, and assault.) ★

☆ word count. 8.9k (sheeeesh had to hold back on somethings)

✥ Chapter Summary: Lost in the shadows of your despair, haunted by memories of the children you once saved, you find yourself drifting further from your purpose. But when a call from Chairman Netero breaks the silence, you're pulled back into a world you thought you'd left behind, drawn into the unknown for one last round — for the sake of saving a young man from making the same mistakes you did. ✥

The church was still, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. You remained in the pew, feigning prayer, while your mind wrestled with turbulent thoughts.

But before you found yourself here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was a journey—a path that led you back to the world you had once left behind.

“You can’t save them all.”

The words echoed in your mind—a truth you had grappled with for most of your life. So why was it so hard to accept that cruel reality? Why did you live your life the way you did? Most people would argue that they wish they had your power and skills. But they didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend the burden that came with such strength.

Why would anyone want to carry that weight for so long?

Power is a double-edged sword. If you aren’t corrupted by it, you’re crushed beneath its weight. How easy it is to destroy rather than create.

You often wondered why Netero had chosen you that day. What did he see first—the helpless child who had lost everything or the Hunter who would grow into his greatest soldier?

You trailed behind the men, each step leading you deeper into the belly of this vile place. They had no idea you were not one of them, no clue that every word you spoke and every move you made was part of a carefully laid trap. The air around you was thick with malice, a foul concoction of despair, fear, and predatory intent.

Since taking the head of your family’s killer, there has been a void in your heart—one you filled with vengeance.

But now, you had a new purpose: to use your power to hunt down the worst of humanity, like this network of mafia traffickers.

Suddenly, your senses sharpened. You heard it—a soft, muffled cry—the children.

The group leader, a man with greasy hair and a twisted grin, laughed. “You hear them, little rascals?” he sneered, gesturing ahead with a perverse pride. “Got a fresh batch of chicklings just yesterday. Innocent, full of life... worth a lot more in certain markets, if you catch my drift..."

A wave of revulsion swept over you, but you kept your face steady, fighting internally the burning in your throat.

Sick bastards. That’s all they were to you. There was nothing more vile than preying upon children, tearing away their innocence, and selling their pain.

Once, you had believed killing was always wrong. But when faced with monsters like these, death seemed like the only solution.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right, Mistress?” The leader’s voice was thick with expectation, his beady eyes studying you for any sign of weakness.

You met his gaze with a cold, calculated, calm one. “The price is no problem, but I’ll need to see the ‘quality’ of the children you speak of to ensure they’re worth it,” you replied, playing along with his sick game. He grinned, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator sensing victory.

“Of course, my lady, right this way,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him up a rickety flight of stairs.

As you ascended, you noticed the tapes scattered on the floor—stacks of them carefully labeled and arranged. Your heart sank at the sight. You knew exactly what they were: recordings of abuse. Child pornography is waiting to be sold and distributed. Evidence of what these children had endured and what they were being forced to relive in the most horrific way possible.

Images of small, terrified faces pinned to the walls, some in tears, others with expressions frozen in fear, burned into your mind. You forced yourself to keep moving, to keep your eyes forward, your face blank. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to lash out, but you had to stay focused. You had to see this through.

When you reached the top, he led you to a door and pushed it open with a creak. Inside, the children were huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. At the front stood a small boy with big gray eyes—"The runt." of the group. His clothes were torn, dirt smeared on his cheeks, but there was something in his gaze—a spark of defiance that hadn’t yet been snuffed out. The other children seemed to hover protectively around him, even in their weakened states.

“Well, what do you think of these little lambs?” the leader asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t they precious?”

You glanced at the children, your heart aching. For a split second, your gaze softened when you saw the small, porcelain-skinned boy, his eyes locked onto yours. He seemed to sense something in you, something different. You took a slow, steady breath, and without moving your lips, you mouthed, “I’m here to help.”

The boy’s grip on the bars loosened slightly. Hope flickered in his big gray eyes. You could feel the children’s fear and desperation mingling with a fragile thread of trust. They were so small, so fragile, yet somehow still fighting.

“They are precious,” you murmured, your voice taking on a steely edge. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

The men’s laughter faltered. They sensed the shift, but too late. You moved swiftly, raising your hand. A wall of stone shot up from the ground, separating the children from their captors. Panic spread among the men as they scrambled for their weapons, but you were already moving.

With a flick of your wrist, a vine extended from the stone wall, and in its grip, a sword was handed to you. The blade flashed, slicing through the air. In one swift motion, you severed their hands before they could draw their guns. Blood spattered against the walls, and the men screamed.

“You crazy bi—” one of them began, but his voice was cut off as you grabbed his face. Nen flames flared from your palm, melting his skin. His screams turned to a hideous, gurgling cry as you slammed him against the wall, against a picture of him touching one of the children.

“My flames are nothing compared to the ones you’ll face for eternity,” you said, your voice cold and unwavering.

"THE DEVIL! YOU'RE THE DEVIL!" he shrieked, his voice cracking in terror.

“YOU’LL GO TO HELL TOO!” another screamed.

You tilted your head slightly, unbothered. “I know,” you replied calmly. “And I’ll be right there with you... to make sure you suffer.”

With a final, furious surge of nen, you let the flames consume him, his body twitching as the fire took hold. One by one, the men fell, their screams swallowed by the inferno of your rage.

The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh, but all you felt was a calm, cold satisfaction. You took a deep breath, letting the fire die down, leaving only smoldering ashes behind.

The floor was now slick with blood, staining everything it touched. You closed your eyes and focused, drawing on your nen, the energy that flowed through your very being. You felt a ripple within yourself, a gathering of moisture in your veins, pulling towards your fingertips. With a single thought, you summoned it forth.

20%

A small, shimmering blob of water began to form, hovering just above your palm. It glistened with a faint blue hue, infused with your nen—your life force flowing through it. The water was more than liquid; it was an extension of your will, a manifestation of the purity and cleansing you desired.

You moved your hand slowly, and the blob expanded, reaching toward the crimson stains that pooled on the floor. It touched the blood, and a strange, almost serene reaction occurred. The nen-infused water seemed to drink up the blood, absorbing it into its depths, turning it from a crystalline blue to a dark, murky red. It quivered and shifted, gathering every last drop, until the floor was clean.

Once it was done, you flicked your wrist, and the blood-tainted water dissipated into steam, evaporating into the air. The scent of iron and smoke faded, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of moisture.

You turned to the vine still hanging from the wall. “Take the corpses to another room,” you said softly. “I don’t want the children to see this.”

The vine extended, wrapping around the charred remains and dragging them away, leaving the room clear. You watched it go, feeling a pang of sorrow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Mother,” you whispered, “but someone has to purge the evil, right?”

The vine nodded as if in understanding and vanished into the shadows.

With the room now clear, you lowered the stone wall, allowing the children to see. They were still huddled together, wide-eyed, trembling, but there was a new light in their eyes—a glimmer of hope.

You kneeled, using a tiny flame to illuminate the room gently. “You’re safe now,” you said softly, your voice switching to a delicate tone.

The small, marble-eyed boy stepped forward. His hand slipped into yours, his grip surprisingly strong for his size. “You back came for us?” he whispered, his voice shaking but resolute.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, a warm smile breaking through your hardened expression. “Always.”

The children began to move toward you, timid at first, then with growing confidence, their small hands reaching out, seeking comfort. For now, at least, they were safe.

And you would make sure it stayed that way.

It was mostly your funding that kept the orphanages in Meteor City from crumbling. Your money was funneled into the broken, forgotten corners of the city where children like Chrollo and his friends sought refuge. You couldn’t always be there, but when you were, you made it count—your presence, your touch, your attention. That was the difference, wasn’t it? You had to put your wealth somewhere, after all—unlike Ging or Pariston, whose fortunes seemed to disappear into the wind, chasing their whims. For you, though, Meteor City had become an escape, a place to atone for the things you couldn’t control.

But it was more than duty, wasn’t it?

Chrollo had bonded to you in a way that you hadn’t expected. The other children admired you, but he worshiped you. His innocence clung to you, unsettling and infectious, dragging you into a world where, for brief moments, you almost believed you could be more than just a Hunter. That you could be someone who stayed.

It was one of those quiet, unguarded moments when you found yourself in Meteor City again, his small, frail body curled up against yours on his bed, his head tucked beneath your chin as if he could melt into your very being. His face pressed into your chest, and his small hands clung to your shirt as if you were his entire world.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, pleading. His wide gray eyes blinked up at you, still so full of that childlike adoration that made your chest tighten painfully. He didn’t understand—how could he? He was too young, too innocent.

You combed your fingers through his shaggy, jet-black hair, pretending it didn’t hurt to hear him ask. Pretending it didn’t make you feel like you were betraying something inside yourself. The glow from the window—the familiar golden light of dawn—signaled your impending departure. Mother Nature, it seemed, always knew when it was time to pull you away. You would have to leave again. You always left.

But not yet.

“Okay,” you whispered, the lie slipping from your lips like it always did. “I’ll stay.” You tucked his head back against your chest, hoping to drown his fears in the safety of your embrace. He felt so small compared to you, so fragile. You held him tighter, but no matter how tightly you cradled him, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. You couldn’t stay.

He sighed, his words soft and filled with frustration. “I wish you were just a normal girl. Not the Great Hunter. They always take you away from me.”

The weight of his words crushed your chest. You swallowed hard, burying the guilt and sorrow that always surfaced in these moments. He was just a boy, after all—a boy who didn’t know what it meant to live a life like yours. His love was simple, innocent, and untainted by the reality that you could never be what he wanted you to be.

He sighed again, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s not fair. You’re just a kid like me, but it’s like... you’re not. You’re stronger, taller... you have magic. You’re not afraid of anything.” His sleepy eyes blinked up at you, half-lidded, his gaze lingering on your face as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. “You’re so cool, Y/N.”

You forced a smile, your heart aching with every word. How could he say these things so easily, not knowing the storm they stirred within you? You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be feeling this pull toward him, this unbearable conflict between duty and something else—something darker, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I want to be strong like you,” he continued, his voice fading as sleep began to pull him under. “Then I’ll be the one to save you.”

You let out a chuckle, though it felt hollow. “Oh really? I can’t wait to see you try.” Your voice was soft and gentle, as if you could keep him safe from the weight of your feelings. But even as you spoke, your gaze lingered on his longer than it should have. The way his eyes—those innocent gray eyes—held yours made something inside you crack. You didn’t want to look away.

And yet, you had to.

As Chrollo yawned, his body slowly relaxing into the warmth of your embrace, your heart clenched in that familiar, bittersweet way. You knew what was coming next—the moment when he would fall asleep, and you’d have to leave. You always left. He knew it too, even if he didn’t say it. His eyes fought against the sleep pulling him under as if staying awake would keep you there just a little longer.

You should go. You needed to go. But instead, you held him close, brushing your thumb along his cheek, tracing the outline of his pale face. He murmured something so soft, so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart shattered.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t respond. How could you? What could you say to that? You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You weren’t supposed to let it hurt. And yet, his innocent words cut deeper than any wound you had ever known.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, letting the silence fill the space between you. Your mind and heart were at war, clashing violently as you tried to convince yourself that you felt nothing for this boy—nothing beyond duty, beyond the role you were meant to play.

But his words lingered. His love lingered. And it was killing you.

Only you could carry this burden. You had to ensure that you were the last shepherd, even if you were just a broken saint now.

And when he called, you would answer, no matter how much time had passed since that harrowing incident.

Isaac Netero’s familiar contact flashed onto your phone just as you returned to your quiet estate. The grand home, surrounded by vast lands, had become your sanctuary—where time seemed to stand still. Bamboo trees swayed in the wind, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear, and the rustle of leaves was like a lullaby to your broken spirit. This land, untouched and isolated, had become your refuge. Here, you could pretend the world had forgotten you, just as you had tried to ignore it.

You rarely needed to leave; everything you required, you grew with your own hands. The earth was rich and forgiving; the bamboo was tall and kind, your only companions, as well as the critters that inhabited the land, your only solace. They tried to aid in healing your scars, though they only made the loss more bearable. They connected you to reality, keeping you grounded and pulling you back from the edge whenever you felt yourself slipping away. They depended on you as much as you did on them. 

But even Mother Nature, with all her quiet persistence, couldn’t fill the gaping void left by your loss. She could only make the emptiness more bearable, less suffocating.

You had given in to the silence, but she hadn’t given up on you. Yet the moment Netero’s contact appeared, the corpse of your heart couldn’t help but beat with a retired purpose you knew you could no longer fulfill.

Still, your hands, worn and deft, quickly picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear.

“Y/N L/N. Think you have a chance to talk, my dear?”

His familiar, softened gruff voice was a reminder of how time had aged him, even though he had left you with so many unanswered questions. He was still your father in many ways.

But you were now Netero’s little fallen general.

“I’m here,” you replied, your voice a ghost of itself, as if unused to forming words meant for anyone else. “It's good to hear your voice. I would ask, How have you been?”

“I am well, Father,” you cut in, a weary undertone threading through your words. “Trying to keep the ground from swallowing me whole.”

A heavy silence fell between you, a shared history that neither of you wanted to address hanging thick in the air. Netero sighed, his voice dipping into a tone you had not heard in years—gentle, almost pleading. 

“Y/N…”

You remained silent, unyielding, waiting for him to continue.

“Listen to me, just this once,” he started, but you interrupted again, sharper this time, like a blade cutting through the fog.

“My nen is gone, Isaac," you said, each word deliberate and hard. "There’s nothing more to that story. There is no Master of the Hunters anymore.”

The silence that followed was colder, heavier. You could almost hear him wince at the use of his first name, a name you rarely called him. You knew it hurt him—that it stripped away the façade he liked to wear around you.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, his voice laced with quiet desperation. “I'm not asking for her to listen to me,” he said carefully. “I'm asking for you, Y/N.”

Your gaze drifted to the bamboo outside, watching the stalks bend and sway in the wind. There was a part of you that wanted to hang up, to let the silence consume you once more, but another part—a faint, barely alive spark—kept you on the line.

“There is a young man,” Netero continued, “who is the spitting reincarnation of you."

Your chest tightened, the ache spreading like a slow poison through your veins. You swallowed, but it felt like shards of glass in your throat.

Netero’s voice softened, almost as if he were trying to soothe a frightened child. “I know I pushed you to retire early, and for that, I am sorry,” he confessed, his words heavy with regret. “I couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen if the wrong people found out you had lost your nen. But this boy—he needs someone who can show him the way. Someone who can give him a chance to choose a different path. A scent he can follow.”

He paused, the weight of his words settling into the air between you. “None of us can do that.”

A flicker of frustration sparked within you, threatening to crack the numbness you had wrapped around yourself like armor. You closed your eyes, the familiar heaviness of duty pressing against your chest. "Why... why do you always drag me back, Isaac?" you murmured, your voice almost devoid of emotion, a whisper lost in the wind.

“Because,” he replied softly, his voice steady but filled with quiet insistence, “you lost your nen, but you didn’t lose everything. I couldn’t save you from your fate... but you can save him before he makes the same mistake.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to be still. The bamboo stopped swaying, the wind held its breath, and even the critters paused their quiet movements. Everything waited for you to decide whether you would let yourself be pulled back into the life you had tried so hard to leave behind.

A slow exhale escaped your lips, and your grip tightened around the phone. Maybe it wasn’t about saving yourself. Maybe it was about saving someone else—just one more time.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally whispered, knowing you were already halfway convinced.

Netero's sigh of relief was almost inaudible, but you felt it—a soft echo in your chest. "That's all I ask," he said gently. "Just think about it."

And with that, the call ended, leaving you standing alone in the quiet of your sanctuary, the wind picking up again, the bamboo swaying once more.

For the first time in a long time, you felt the stirrings of something beyond emptiness—a faint, fragile thing that might have been hope.

You let yourself fall back against the mat, feeling the familiar, frayed edges pressing into your back. Your phone lay loosely in your grip, screen dark, but its weight still anchored you to the moment. You stared blankly at the stone pond before you, the water still and silent under the overcast sky. But inside, that gnawing feeling had grown stronger, louder, and more insistent. The doubt and emptiness you had tried so hard to bury now surged to the surface like a wave, threatening to swallow you whole.

Then you saw her—the familiar, ethereal form rising from the pond—"Mother," your nen-made spirit, tilting her head at you, trying to read the emotions you kept so tightly locked away. Her shape shimmered and wavered, the liquid surface of her body catching the dim light, reflecting a thousand tiny, dancing fragments of your surroundings.

“You’re cruel...” you muttered, not bothering to lift your head. You didn’t need to see her to know she was there, watching you with a concern you could not bear. The water spirit hovered closer, her presence radiating a gentle insistence. A wave of water reached out, almost like a hand, and as she moved, droplets broke away and splattered onto your face. The cool water trickled down your skin, obliging you to finally look up and meet her gaze.

Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her form, the way her edges seemed to blur and tremble, told you everything. She was worried. She is always worried. Especially when you have attempted to end your suffering...

Seeing her like that... It only made the ache worse. It plagued you and gnawed at you like an open wound. You hated it. You hated feeling like this—so useless, so empty. Once, you had been so certain of your place in the world, so sure of your purpose. You had moved like a blade through the darkness, cutting down every evil in your path. You had saved countless lives and fought battles that others had deemed impossible. You mattered.

And now... now it felt like all of that was gone. Stripped away the moment your nen vanished. When it had left you, it had taken everything with it. Your sense of self, your purpose, your reason for being—it had all crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.

"Quit it," you muttered, your voice low and tired. "I'm not in the mood."

But Mother didn’t listen. She never did. Instead, she moved closer, her form rippling like a soft wave, the water elongating until it seemed to reach across the space between you. With a sudden, playful motion, she curled around your feet, a cold grip tightening around your ankles. Before you could protest, she yanked you off the mat, dragging you across the ground.

“Really?” You groaned, exasperation flaring. You knew what she was doing. She was trying to wake you up, to stir something inside you. “Cut it out, Mother.”

She didn’t respond. The water around your ankles tightened, and with another tug, she lifted you upside down, your hair falling toward the ground. The blood rushed to your head, and you blinked, momentarily disoriented. For a moment, you dangled there like a rag doll over the pond, your feet held aloft by a watery tendril.

You found yourself staring directly into her face—or what passed for a face—her liquid eyes focused intently on you, unblinking, unwavering. She was demanding your attention, forcing you to look at her to confront whatever was buried deep inside. The silence stretched between you, filled only by the gentle slosh of water moving with every slight motion.

“I said quit it,” you repeated, a hint of irritation in your voice. But she didn’t budge. Her expression seemed almost stern. The water droplets that made up her body shivered slightly, as if she were speaking a language only you could understand.

Mother’s form shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her head tilted again, and for a second, she almost seemed to frown. The water that held you up began to twist and turn, slowly spinning you in the air as if examining you from every angle. Her touch was cold, but there was something else there—something gentle, almost comforting, beneath the chill. She wouldn’t let you hide from this. She wouldn’t let you sink back into the darkness you’d been wallowing in for so long.

“Quit it, Mother,” you muttered, voice strained, but there was no real fight in your tone. You were too exhausted to fight her, too tired to do much more than dangle there, your heart heavy and your purpose frayed.

Mother, ever persistent, moved the water around you in a swirl, as if shaping something from the depths of her core. You felt a coldness, a thin sheet of water sliding up to your face, and then you saw it—your reflection mirrored perfectly in the water.

But Mother didn’t stop there. Slowly, deliberately, she turned the reflection around.

Your eyes widened as you caught sight of your own back and your skin. The large, red Hunter symbol emblazoned between your shoulder blades, stark against your flesh, with the L/N family symbols woven underneath, bearing the phrase that had once given you strength:

"No child left behind." 

The words, so familiar, stared back at you with a cruel clarity. Your vow, your creed. The promise you had whispered to yourself a thousand times over, in the darkest nights, in the quiet moments of despair. The very words you had once tattooed onto your skin were like armor against the world.

Your breath caught in your throat. You tried to look away, but Mother twisted the mirror slightly, making sure you couldn’t escape it.

The reminder was as sharp as a blade, cutting through your excuses and your self-pity.

You were The Great Hunter, not because of the nen you wielded, but because of the promise you had made. Because of the innocent you had sworn to protect.

Mother watched, her watery eyes soft but firm, refusing to release you until the weight of that reflection settled back into your bones.

You sighed, a long, tired exhale, and for a moment, just a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the ache of that old purpose stirring within you.

She stared back, unyielding. Her watery surface rippled slightly, as if in response to your unspoken thoughts, and you felt a tear prick at the corner of your eye. A tear you quickly blink away. The silence stretched on, filled with everything you weren't saying—filled with all the things she knew you didn’t want to admit.

You sighed, feeling the fight leave you, your shoulders slumping. “Fine. Fine, you win,” you said quietly, feeling defeated, but in a way that almost felt like relief. She had always been there to stop you from corrupting yourself, always pushing you, always forcing you to face the things you wanted to ignore. And now, as much as you hated to admit it, you needed her to do it again.

You felt her release your ankles, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing, your heartbeat slowing, the cool air biting at your skin. She hovered closer, her watery hand reaching out as if to touch your face, but she hesitated, just a fraction of an inch away. You stared into her eyes, feeling something inside you break loose like a dam giving way.

You hated this... You hated feeling like you were nothing. Like you were just a vessel for the person you used to be.

Your Nen was gone, but you were still here. That gnawing, insatiable need to matter, to make a difference, was still there, burning quietly beneath the surface.

You took a breath, your fingers tightening around the phone still in your hand. "Alright," you whispered, almost to yourself. "Alright, I'll do it."

Mother seemed to shimmer, her form brightening slightly as if she were smiling. Her droplets swirled around you, a gentle, swirling dance of liquid light like she was encouraging you, cheering you on.

Your thumb moved over the phone screen, almost of its own accord, and you found Netero’s name again, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through—calm but expectant as if he had known you would call back.

“Y/N?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steeling yourself, and then spoke, your voice steady. “Where is he?”

You stepped off the airship, choosing to take a more grounded approach this time. It had been so long since you walked among society; today, you wanted to feel the earth beneath your feet and hear the noise of life all around you. Normally, you would have flown in on Khan, your Seraphrid—a creature resembling a winged horse, only larger and more formidable, a loyal companion since your youth. But today felt different.

As expected, Khan had already beaten you here. His sleek, black form stood tall among the trees, his six powerful legs moving with an elegance that defied his size. His head was turned in your direction, and the two long, string-like antennae that served as his natural bridle extended, sensing your presence. They wrapped around your arm, their touch gentle but firm, syncing with the veins on the underside of your wrist. The bond was immediate, an ancient connection that required no words.

With a familiar pull, you mounted him, his raised hoof serving as a stepping stool, an unspoken offer only the two of you understood. You clicked your tongue softly, a signal you’d always used, and he responded with a low, rumbling neigh that resonated through your bones.

Khan didn’t need instructions. He read your intentions through the link you shared, feeling the subtle shifts in your thoughts and emotions. He began to trot into the dense forest, guided by your thoughts alone, the rhythm of his steps matching the cadence of your heartbeat.

Netero had informed you that the young man, the one you were to meet, was training in these woods. He had given you the young man’s contact information, though he had been elusive with any real details. When you had pressed for more information, Netero had only chuckled, his words tinged with mystery: “You’ll see...”

Typical of him to leave you to uncover the truth on your own, to dig up the bone yourself, like always. As Khan weaved through the thick underbrush, you found yourself wondering about this boy. What was it about him that had made Netero reach out to you after all this time? What was so special that it warranted pulling you back into this world?

The dense forest began to thin, opening into a sun-dappled clearing. Khan slowed to a gentle canter, his antennae twitching as if sensing something ahead. You felt it too—a presence, quiet yet intense, like a heartbeat echoing through the trees.

This had to be the place. As you dismounted, Khan’s gaze remained fixed forward, his body tense and alert. You patted his side, reassuring him, and he relaxed slightly, though his eyes never wavered from whatever lay beyond the clearing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar stir of curiosity and something deeper—something that felt like the whisper of purpose reigniting within you. Stepping forward, you moved into the clearing, ready to meet the young man Netero had sent you to find, ready to face whatever awaited you on the other side.

You dismounted slowly, your feet sinking into the damp earth as the coolness of the soil crept up through your boots, grounding you in the present moment. The clearing before you stretched wide, dappled sunlight breaking through the thick canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, a living, breathing presence around you. Khan stood tall beside you, his powerful form coiled with restrained energy, his antennae twitching in tune with the undercurrent of tension that rippled from you like a stone dropped in water.

Ahead, the low murmur of voices reached your ears, punctuated by the rhythmic clack of wood striking wood and the sharp rustle of leaves disturbed by quick, deliberate movements. You moved forward slowly, cautiously, each step bringing the sounds into sharper clarity. As you reached the edge of the clearing, you paused, taking in the scene before you.

Two figures moved with practiced grace, their forms entwined in a dance of combat, their bodies speaking a language of strength and discipline. One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, had a presence that radiated intensity and control—Izunavi, a hunter you had known from years ago. His sharp, unwavering gaze and the calm precision of his movements marked him as a hunter, one who had taught countless others the art of survival.

But it was the boy who drew your attention.

He was younger than you had imagined, his golden hair catching the sunlight like a halo, his eyes narrowed in concentration, a fierce determination burning in their depths. His posture was taut, muscles coiled and ready, every motion calculated and precise as he mirrored Izunavi’s steps, his gaze never faltering, never leaving his mentor for even a heartbeat. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but there was a tension there—a rawness, a desperation that was almost painful to watch.

So this was Kurapika.

Your breath caught in your throat. It was like staring into a ghost, a specter of who you had once been—a younger self, with that same consuming fire, that same drive, that same reckless need to prove something to a world that had never shown mercy. You recognized the look in his eyes immediately. You had seen it in your reflection, in the faces of those you had saved and those you had failed. The beast of burden lay heavy in his gaze, the weight of vengeance familiar darkness that seemed to clutch at his very soul.

He was still a child. Just as you had been—a child thrust into a world too cruel and too vast, carrying a burden too heavy for shoulders so young. You lingered in the shadows, your heart tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding curling in your gut. Finally, you decided to step forward, your presence pressing through the air like a ripple in still water.

Izunavi’s movements stilled. He sensed you first, his eyes flickering toward you, his expression a mask of calm neutrality, though you saw the faint recognition behind his eyes. His stance eased, a subtle acknowledgment. Kurapika followed his gaze, turning to face you, and the intensity of his scrutiny hit you like a blow—a look so piercing it seemed to strip away layers, searching, demanding answers before he even spoke.

“Master,” Izunavi greeted, his tone respectful but carrying a hint of something harder beneath. "Netero told me you might be dropping by."

"Y/N," you corrected, voice soft but firm. Each syllable felt heavy in your mouth, burdened by the memories of your past. You inclined your head slightly, stepping fully into the clearing, moving with purpose, though a knot tightened in your stomach. "It’s been a while, Izunavi," you said, your voice sounding almost foreign to your ears. "I see you’ve taken on another pupil."

Izunavi nodded. "One with a special kind of determination," he replied, a note of pride softening his otherwise stern demeanor. He glanced at Kurapika, who stood like a coiled spring, ready to snap. "Kurapika, this is Y/N L/N—once known as Master Hunter, The Great Hunter, the Hound of the Hunters… too many names to count."

Kurapika’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of your name. Recognition flickered across his features—his expression shifting from curiosity to something deeper, something darker. You could almost see the thoughts racing behind his gaze, the questions forming, and the curiosity and anger mingling in a storm of emotion.

Netero had left you a note from the first examiner of the 287th Hunter Exam: "Kurapika Kurta said he wishes to become a Hunter to exact revenge on the Phantom Troupe and seek aid from the Master Hunter." The Phantom Troupe, a name you had only heard in passing, a whisper of a threat, a gang too small to matter back then. But now, seeing Kurapika’s face, you realize how much had changed and how much you had missed.

“Where were you that day?” Kurapika’s voice was low but steady, each word laced with a simmering rage that seemed barely contained. "I read stories about you... Master Hunter, the one who made crime vanish like mist before the sun. When my people were slaughtered, I didn’t fear, because I knew—you would come. You would hunt them down for me."

The pain in his voice was like a knife twisting in your chest. “I waited years for you! Held onto that hope until I had no choice but to become the hunter I needed.”

His voice cracked, but the fury within it did not waver. "You let them walk this earth after what they did to me... to my people." His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his breath ragged. And then you saw it—the flash of scarlet behind his gray contacts, the burning rage of his clan's curse, the anger and grief all mixed into one volatile storm.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard against it. The weight of his accusation bore down on you like a physical force. In your absence, the world had shifted and twisted, and you had been powerless to stop it. You had lost your Nen that day, the day you had lost everything.

That’s why you weren’t there.

The same beast of burden now latched onto him had once latched onto you. You had failed him, and his words cut deep into whatever was left of your fractured soul. If only you had known... If only you had hunted them when they were small, a mere whisper of a threat. If only…

But you hadn’t. And now you were facing the result of that failure.

Your silence hung heavy in the air. You felt the burn in your eyes, the sting in your throat, and the weight of every decision and every choice you had made that led to this moment. There was nothing you could say to erase the pain in his eyes—the sense of betrayal that seemed to radiate from him like heat.

Kurapika's expression hardened, his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I need justice,” he said, his voice colder now, like a blade drawn against a stone.

You drew a deep breath, fighting against the rising tide of emotion within you. “Justice is a fine line, Kurapika,” you replied quietly, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “And revenge can blur it until you don’t know which side you’re on.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a mixture of fury and something deeper—something fragile and almost broken. He turned away, shoulders tense, his footsteps heavy, as if carrying the weight of the world on his back. A part of you wanted to reach out, to stop him, to pull him back from the edge. But you knew better than to force it. He had to find his way, just as you had.

“Kurap-” Izunavi began, his voice edged with concern, but you raised a hand, silencing him. Your eyes remained on Kurapika’s retreating form, watching as he disappeared into the trees, swallowed by the shadows.

“Let him go,” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. "I’ll talk to him later... once he’s cooled off."

Izunavi hesitated but finally nodded, trusting your judgment. You stared into the forest where Kurapika had vanished, the weight of his words still heavy on your heart. You knew that if he continued on this path, it would lead only to more pain and more loss. You weren’t sure you could bear to watch someone else descend into the same darkness that had swallowed you whole.

You had to try for his sake and yours.

“How far is he in his Nen?” you asked, breaking the stillness. Izunavi turned, his expression solemn.

“He's a determined, quick learner, but he’s already made those terrible vows for his Nen ability. It’s been five months since he started, and he’s planning something for September 1st.”

Next month, you thought. Not much time. “Is it related to the Troupe?”

“Positive.” Izunavi’s response was immediate; his voice edged with tension.

You sighed deeply, feeling the familiar heaviness in your chest. Another lost child, another soul standing at a precipice. The memory of the children from Meteor City flickered in your mind—those small, eager faces filled with both mischief and hope. Even now, you could remember the way they looked up to you, their eyes wide with wonder and something more—something like belief.

Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks—all those troublemakers who had once felt like yours in some way despite being the same age. You had often wondered where they were now, how life had treated them, and if they had stayed on the path you had hoped for them. Maybe, when all of this was over, you’d find them again. Just to see. Just to know.

Izunavi’s voice pulled you back. “His vows are monstrous, Y/N. I don’t know what he sacrificed, but his chains are still out of control. He’s powerful, but he can’t command them yet.”

“Chains?” You repeated, an eyebrow arching in surprise. “That’s his ability?”

Izunavi nodded gravely. “Yes. He wants to bind the spiders to hell with them.”

A small, amused laugh slipped past your lips, as that did sound like something he would say. Then your expression turned serious. “Izunavi… I’ve lost my Nen. If I decide to teach this boy, will you be my eyes?”

Izunavi blinked, momentarily stunned, but he quickly nodded, his gaze steady and filled with a new understanding. “I will,” he promised softly. “But... are you ready for this?”

You took a breath, the weight of your own words settling within you. “I wasn’t Netero’s best hunter just because of my Nen.”

You could still feel Nen, even Mother’s Nen whenever she came to you, like a whisper at the back of your mind, a gentle reminder of the power that once flowed through you like a river. You hadn’t lost your instincts—if anything, losing your Nen had sharpened them. It was like losing a sense and gaining another. You could feel things now, in ways that other Nen users couldn’t—like sensing the shift in the air before a storm.

Izunavi hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice a little softer, a little more unsure. “Y/N, you can do it? Teach him? With your Nen gone…?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I can.”

Izunavi seemed to consider your words, then nodded again, more firmly this time. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be your eyes.”

Your gaze drifted toward the direction where Kurapika had stormed off, your thoughts tangled with the past and the present. You knew the path he was on—you had been there yourself once. And you didn’t want Kurapika to stain his hands as you had stained yours, even if it was for what you believed was “good.”

If you could help him find another way—if you could keep his hands clean, you would. You were willing to stain yours all over again for the sake of keeping him from the blood that had already marked too many lives.

You had to operate in his shadow. Teaching Kurapika while also trying to beat him to the Phantom Troupe would be no easy task—especially if you had to do it behind his back. There was still so much you didn’t know. The years you spent disconnected from society left gaps in your knowledge. You couldn’t deny it, and the thought made you clench your fist. At least you could still rely on the physical strength of the L/N bloodline—but even that might not be enough. What if the Phantom Troupe’s Nen abilities were stronger than you anticipated? If they were all together, no matter how much experience you had, they could easily overwhelm you by sheer numbers.

What if you couldn’t protect Kurapika? The thought sent a shiver up your spine.

This was a mess just waiting to explode.

Izunavi watched you quietly, sensing the shift in your mood, the old scars being reopened, and the new purpose forming in your heart. You felt the stirrings of a familiar resolve—a quiet, burning fire that refused to go out.

“Let’s start now,” you said, meeting Izunavi’s gaze with a calm but determined look. “We have until September 1st. I won’t let him fall.”

You followed Kurapika as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Shadows lengthened, and the woods grew quieter, the sounds of the day's creatures giving way to the night’s. You had given him time—enough time, you hoped—for his anger to cool and for his heart to steady. But you knew that the embers of rage didn’t die so easily; they could smolder for a long, long time.

You found him near the lake, sitting against a tree with his knees pulled up, his blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight like threads of gold. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought, his face a mask of quiet resolve. You watched him for a moment from a distance, letting your presence be felt without imposing yourself. You knew words wouldn’t be enough—not yet, not for a boy with a fresh wound.

Slowly, you made your way toward him, moving carefully and deliberately, leaving space for him to turn you away if he chose. He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t push you away either. That, in itself, was something. You took a seat beside him, leaving enough distance between the two of you to let him feel unpressured but close enough that your presence was felt. You let the silence stretch, understanding that sometimes it was the only thing that could truly speak.

After a while, you finally broke the silence, your voice soft, almost tentative. "You want to hunt the Troupe, right?"

Kurapika didn’t move at first, his eyes still fixed on the water. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but resolved. “I don’t have a choice.”

The words hung between you, heavy with finality. You have heard that before, spoken in different ways by different people. It was always the same. A choice made in desperation, when the soul felt trapped by the past, by the need to correct something that could never truly be fixed.

“You always have a choice,” you replied softly, your tone neither reprimanding nor coddling. It was simply a statement of fact.

Kurapika shifted, his hands tightening around his knees. “Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, studying the lines of tension etched across his young face. He was still so young—too young for this kind of rage to live so deeply inside him. But rage wasn’t something that cared for age, wisdom, or even reason. You knew that better than anyone.

“They took everything from me,” he continued, his voice harder now, laced with bitterness. “Everything. My family, my home, my future. I can’t just let that go!”

You exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh that was lost in the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. “Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,” you said gently. “It doesn’t mean forgiving either. But this path you’re walking... It’s not just about revenge anymore. It’s about who you become at the end of it.”

Kurapika’s eyes flicked toward you then, sharp and wary like he was expecting a lecture he’d heard a thousand times before. But you weren’t here to preach.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you clarified, your gaze still on the water, the gentle waves reflecting the dying light. “I know that’s not an option for you. But you need to be careful, Kurapika. Rage has a way of consuming everything in its path. It’ll burn through you if you’re not careful. Until there’s nothing left of the person you used to be.”

He was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. The tension in his body hadn’t lessened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. Or maybe it was understanding.

“I can control it,” he said, his voice quieter now, but the determination in it was unmistakable. “I have to.”

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his resolve. “Control is important. But you also need balance. Power without purpose is dangerous, even to yourself.”

Kurapika frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Purpose? My purpose is to kill them.”

You turned to face him fully then, your eyes locking onto his. “And after that? What happens when they’re gone? What’s left for you?”

The question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For a moment, the hard façade he had built around himself seemed to crack, and you saw the lost boy beneath. A boy who had lost everything and didn’t know how to live without his hatred to guide him.

“That’s why I’m here,” you continued, your voice softening. “I’ve walked this path before. I know where it leads. If you’re not careful, you’ll reach the end of it and find that nothing is waiting for you on the other side. Nothing but emptiness.”

Kurapika’s hands slowly unclenched, his fingers tracing the edge of his sleeves as if grounding himself in the present moment. He didn’t say anything, but you could see the conflict in his eyes.

You reached out then, gently placing your hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort. “I’m not saying this to stop you,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am saying you need to think about what comes next. After the bloodshed. After the vengeance. What will you be left with?”

Kurapika lowered his head, the weight of your words sinking in. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t filled with tension. It was a moment of quiet reflection.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

You gave a small nod, squeezing his shoulder lightly before pulling your hand back. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet. Just... don’t lose yourself in the process.”

For a long moment, Kurapika didn’t move, his gaze fixed on the ground, deep in thought. When he finally looked up, there was a new clarity in his eyes, though the fire still burned there, too. He wasn’t ready to let go of his vengeance, but at least now he was starting to see the danger in letting it consume him completely.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than before.

You nodded again, satisfied for now. It was a start. He would need time to fully understand what you meant, but at least the seed had been planted. And as much as you wanted to protect him from the pain of the path he was walking, you knew he had to walk it for himself. All you could do was guide him along the way.

As the last traces of daylight disappeared from the sky, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Come on,” you said, offering him a hand. “Let’s head back before it gets too dark.”

Kurapika hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, pulling himself up to his feet. He stood beside you, his gaze lingering on the horizon for just a moment longer before he nodded, turning to follow you back toward the camp.

As you walked side by side, the soft sounds of the night surrounding you, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the weight of the future heavy between you both.

The journey was far from over...

© eyesofbong. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it. My work is only available on this platform and on AO3 under the name @eyesofbong

[mymanyfandomramblings]

A list of things that Odalia Blight does In Clouds On The Horizon that make her a very funny villain:

She grounds Amity for trying to interfere in her plans, which is not funny in and of itself, but it's a necessary backdrop for everything else. She also grounds Edric and Emira for trying to burn down the factory. I just think it's hilarious that the punishment for 'talking back' and ' attempting to destroy the family business' are the same. and that punishment is grounding. a reminder that twenty episodes ago, Odalia got Amity's friends expelled because Amity was underperforming. and now attempted arson is only a groundworthy offence. I think the stress of planning the Day Of Unity is getting to her.

When Alador reveals the real purpose of the Day Of Unity, and she gives away that she knew (via guilty-but-not-nearly-guilty-enough examination of her nails), I am obsessed with her responding with 'This is why I don't tell you anything'. it's an insane response to being accused of being complicit in genocide, and truly icon behaviour (derogatory).

She takes a break from her evil plotting to show off the Abomatron for Kiki, and the second she starts talking about it's features, the perky little synth tune from the Blight Industries auction back in Escaping Expulsion starts playing, and Odalia switches into 'presenter mode'. Belos works hard, but the Blight Industries marketing team works harder.

"we'll find you a new girlfriend, one that isn't on wanted posters" and "I've been meaning to find a more competent business partner" are just both so...disastrously callous. this woman is so bad at comprehending genuine relationships, and that is an unmitigated disaster for her family, but it leads to some incredible lines.

And perhaps my favourite things--about half her dialogue is spoken clutching her gem, but still said aloud, implying that she's intending just to project all her arguments into her family's head, but probably because she's stressed and angry, she's just speaking aloud. that little detail just adds a lot, I feel.

[heepthecheep]

I saw a really fun poll and thought I'd make my own:

[evvieseunoia]

Reiji Sakamaki Childhood HCS

I think because vampires age differently, Shuu would have been physically around 5 or 6 years old when Reiji was born.

Reiji was born on an uncharacteristically cold, August morning.

Shuu was ecstatic when his mother told him he would be a big brother. He helped to paint the nursery room for Reiji’s arrival, wrote in his journal about his excitement, and cried for hours when he couldn’t be in the delivery room.

Reiji, against popular belief, was the worst crier between the two- already grieving the neglect of the years to come.

Shuu was the only one who could stop Reiji from crying. Beatrix could always find Shu laying on the floor, building wooden castles for his baby brother.

Reiji’s bitterness began when he once asked Beatrix if he could take lessons with Shuu, to which she responded with a very firm, “No.”

At meals, he sat across the table from his mother, with Shuu at the head. His portions were significantly smaller.

His favorite subject to study as a preteen was ancient literature. He imagined himself as the hero in every story. Traveling far, far away from home, being celebrated by thousands, being king...

As he grew up, he cringed at the realization that he would never be the main character in the story, and he began to favor alchemy.

Along with core subjects, he and Shuu practiced fencing. Reiji trained until his hands call0used and his knuckles bled, but he could never best his brother.

When Reiji learned of the human holiday of Mother’s Day, he went all out in an attempt to win Beatrix’s favor. He took over cooking and cleaning for their household for the day and served all of Beatrix’s favorite dishes. He annotated a special edition copy of her favorite book. All to no avail as she said he should focus on performing these duties in the future, as Shuu’s right-hand man.

The first time Reiji notices Shuu and Edgar, he watches from far away. After dinner that night, Reiji asks Shuu if he may join them the following morning. With Shuu’s no, Reiji’s heart truly begins to blacken towards humanity.

In the days leading up to his arson, Reiji makes several attempts to reconnect with Shuu.

He covers for Shuu when his mother asks his whereabouts, has their tailor repair a tear in Shuu’s blue sweater, uses his pocket money to buy him new rosin.

When he tells Shuu of all he’s done for him, Reiji can only see his mother’s reflection in his older brother’s eyes. Shuu hardly gives him a second glance, before leaving to play with his newfound village friend.

How could his brother, his blood-bound friend, abandon him for a human?

How could a mother, when written about in stories as women with fountains of unconditional love, show such disdain for him?

Shuu comes home one late September night complaining of a disagreement he and Edgar had had over their shared snack of apples earlier that day. Reiji, living vicariously through Shu, and with no friends of his own, clung to his brother’s every word. If Edgar had upset him enough, would Shuu come back to be Reiji’s friend again?

In a final attempt to win both the affection of his mother and the friendship of his brother, Reiji burns Edgar and his village to the ground.

I would love some feedback on these!! Feel free to send asks if you want to see any more.

[maleyanderecafe]

Death by Fire (Visual Novel)

Created by: V0dka

Genre: Horror/Romance

Death by Fire has some nice art, and an interesting concept though there isn't too much as of now considering it's a demo. The main character, Arson not only has a cool name but a cool design with a half mask. If you are interested in this game, you can find more out at @deathbyfirevn.

The story starts out with the MC waking up. They seem really tired and grumbling as their boss has called them. They decide to go buy some groceries, being served by a nice cashier. As they go up the stairs to their apartment, they come across some graffiti welcoming them home before getting knocked out. Upon waking up, they find that they are tied to a chair, with an animated TV show playing in the background. Someone states that it was a show that the MC liked when they were younger and as the MC looks at him, they see a man with a mask and some blood on his face. They can either ask about the blood or why he kidnapped them.

If the MC asks about why they did this, they will seem disappointed that they don't remember him, even though the MC has absolutely no recollection of him. Whereas if the MC talks about he blood, he will state that he cut the limbs off of a man who was trailing outside of their house. He will then state that he is taking care of the MC now, all of their eating, drinking etc. He will then ask if we like the TV show that is playing.

If we say yes, he will be happy whereas if we say no, then he will seem disappointed as we used to like this show in the past.

After which, he will attempt to loosen the ropes where we can either attack him or stay obedient. Attacking him will lead to knocking him over, however he will be able to grab hold of their ankle. He is unhappy, stating how happy he was when he first was able to see them again after so long, however, in displeased by the results. Staying obedient will lead to him introducing himself as Arson and him stating that he will have to buy somethings tomorrow before the MC falls asleep.

So as I said, fairly short. The story mostly follows the MC being annoyed before being otherwise kidnapped by Arson, though we do get to learn more about him through his appearance and his relationship with the MC. Arson seems to have known the MC from the past, though we don't know how or why, and based on his appearance probably had some injuries to the left side of his face, probably due to fire (considering his name is Arson and the title of this game). We also see that he has bandages on his arms so it's possible that he might self harm or that those too are injuries from said fire. Based on the cartoon that he plays, it's likely that Arson and the MC met when they were really small, so it's likely one of those childhood friends that the MC no longer remembers. I am curious about how Arson was able to kidnap the MC in the first place, since at least in our point of view we simply get knocked out before waking up to being tied to a chair. Still, it seems like the game will either be attempting to escape or enjoying the life of Arson taking care of us while being tied to a chair, either of which will likely lead to some interesting backstory between the two.

I will say that the art is very pretty, I like the design of Arson since there is a lot of intrigue to what happened to him from his mask to his mostly expressionless face to the bandages of his arms. He does a lot of good character design storytelling just from his design considering we don't know that much about whats happening in the game yet. The clerk also seems like she might be an important character (though it might just be that she's the only other character we've seen so far).

Over all though, a pretty short game, though an interesting premise. As I've said there's currently not much on it, but hopefully it becomes a fun game for everyone to play in the future.

[sillygoose343]

A Makayuri Timeline

Okay, so I was really bored and I decided to go onto the COD wiki (and Villains and Heroes wiki) and from the information given and drawing up some of my own conclusions, I have created a little timeline that I did not beta whatsoever so it's probably filled with grammatical errors but actually had some fun w/ it.

Now lets get started!

October 4th 1970 - Makarov was born in Ivanovo Russia, during the Soviet era

1988 - Makarov would have presumably graduated from the Frunze Military academy as a Captain

1988-1994 - Makarov would have presumably served as a Captain in the Russian Army by serving as a paratrooper for the 98th Guards Airborne Division of the VDV

1989-1990 - Makarov was stationed in Berlin during the collapse of the Berlin wall. It was stated that Yuri had joined the Spetsnaz in the early 1990s

1990 - Presumably, Makarov would have joined the Spetsnaz at this time with the rank of Captain. It is reasonable to suggest that Makarov and Yuri would have first met in 1990 in the Spetsnaz

1991 - Both Yuri and Makarov are no longer Soviet (rip USSR) and are now Russian

1994-1996 - Makarov would have served in the First Chechen War as a Captain and partake in brutal cleansing raids. It is likely that Yuri would have been either under Makarov’s command or if not, because he was in the Spetsnaz, it is still likely he would have served in the First Chechen War in Chechnya and at least know about Makarov's cleansing raids (and he's still into Makarov).

1996 - Makarov opted for discharge out of the armed forces due to the U.N. holding an inquiry to investigate human rights violation charges where he was at the top of the list presented by the EU investigations panel.  

Around this time, he would have used his military training for terrorist enterprises, likely for the crimes, human trafficking, money laundering, drug smuggling, bombings of military/civilian targets and assassinations

Due to these crimes, around this point of time, he had been noticed by Imran Zakhaev and offered a position in his anti-Western movement, the Ultranationalist Party

Yuri would have had to follow Makarov’s lead as they are literally together in Pripyat and the Middle East later on. Thus it can be safely said that Yuri had also left the Spetsnaz during 1996, following Makarov’s discharge. He is also noticed by Imran Zakhaev, as stated by the wiki. This actually sort of indicates that he had been complacent to the crimes of Makarov that caught Zakhaev’s attentions (what a simp).

1996 - Makarov monologues to Yuri during Zakhaev’s attempted arms deal exchange in Pripyat but the attempted assassination by Lieutenant John Price happens. Yuri says that Zakhaev never forgot what he and Makarov had done for them that day and awarded them with power

2001 - Imran Zakhaev ordered Makarov to bomb a Moscow city bus and succeeded leaving 29 people killed and 19 injured

Makarov bombed of Piccadilly Circus using a modified London Underground train filled with explosives, killing and wounding 407 people

Committed a massacre at the GUM department store in Moscow, 87 wounded or dead

Considering the fact that Makarov and Yuri are fairly inseparable and they’re together during the 2011 nuclear detonation event, it can be safe to assume that Yuri would have been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2002 - Makarov hijacked a Greek oil tanker in the Mediterranean Sea Hellenic Navy with two crew members killed or wounded before the $3mill ransom was paid

Murdered three Russian infantry solders

Stole $1.5mill from ZBV bank

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2003 - Repression of North Caucasus-based and pro-Western nationalist groups

Makarov assassinated political leaders, arson and bombing of opposition parties

Murdered Moscow-based journalist Ilya Lovitch who was investigating political crimes

Bombed several government buildings in Kazakhstan, 245 dead or wounded

Hijacked two Kreigler Airliners, 378 are dead and wounded, eight were his own men

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2004 - Makarov robbed a HBS bank in Istanbul

Abducted 15 college students from Russia, 5 are killed or wounded

Bombed two embassies in Africa, 28 are dead and 48 injured

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for this (simp).

2005 - Makarov held up an armoured truck in Moscow and stole three million rubles (100K), three security guards were dead or wounded

Hijacked a cruise ship in the Baltic Sea and tortured U.S passengers until the $5mill ransom was paid

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2006 - Makarov robbed Russian State Postal and Banking Service Depot of 32 million rubles ($1.2mill)

Murdered of famous British designer, Rob Millington

Murdered three U.S airmen based in Turkmenistan

Helped coordinate attacks by Janjaweed militias and Sudanese military against rebels. Was implicated in human rights abuse

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2007 - Makarov captured and beheaded Mossad attache to Ukraine who was investigating Makarov’s links to Islamic extremists

Assassinated Pakistani politician Hasni Al’Bura

Bombed a Russia-Germany gas pipeline in Belarus because Gasneft refused to pay a fee to prevent “disruption to service.”

Robbed $15 million worth of diamonds and other gemstones from a Siberian mining company

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2008 - Makarov committed ambush of an FSB vehicle, 5 agents dead or wounded

Abducted and murdered a SibGaz owner’s wife and daughter

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2008-2009 - Makarov committed the bombing  of a Swedish furniture store in a shopping mall that was located in St. Petersburg 100 people killed or wounded

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for this (simp).

2009 - Makarov bombed Baku-located U.S oil company offices, 3 people dead or wounded

He was unsuccessful at his bomb plot against English-speaking school in Moscow

Unsuccessful in rigging explosives in a Moscow-located soccer stadium. Authorities burst a pipe to halt the match and denied publicity to Makarov

Trafficked over $2.1mill worth of weapons, drugs and people

Yuri would have likely been present at Makarov’s side for these (simp).

2011 - Makarov gave Al-Asad the order of detonating nuclear device, killing or wounding approximately 30k U.S Marines, Air Force, Navy SEALs and NEST team and unknown OpFor (Al-Asad’s men). Yuri JUST grew some balls as THIS was the moment that planted seeds of doubt in his head regarding his affiliation with the Ultranationalists. 

Soap killed Imran Zakhaev in 2011 with the help of U.S Marines (Griggs, notably), Loyalists (Kamarov, notably) and SAS Forces at the climax of the Second Russian Civil War causing the Ultranationalist Party to Splinter, Makarov’s resources and contacts due to his terrorist enterprises, allowed him to assume control of a large portion of the dissolved Ultranationalist Party known as the ‘Inner Circle.’ Yuri is still with him for all of this, albeit probably not as stoked.

2015 - Makarov became the CIA’s most wanted terrorist. Yuri is still with him but not as pussy-whipped.

August 10th 2016 - Makarov played some part in the new Ultranationalist Russia under the mainstream party’s newly elected leader and President Boris Vorshevsky after the Ultranationalist victory of the Second Russian Civil War, though he was pushed out of the Inner Circle and became unaffiliated with the Ultranationalists politically, he has taken control of some of the rogue military forces and began to extend the party’s activities more towards terrorism. Yuri is still presumably following Makarov’s orders around this time. 

August 12th 2016 - Makarov had planned for a massacre in  Zakhaev International Airport in Moscow this is to frame CIA agent Joseph Allen and instigate a war which works. Yuri had betrayed Makarov by informing the FSB of his plans (he did it!!! He reached post-nut clarity after 26 years!!!) Makarov knew of his betrayal so he shot Yuri in the Zakhaev International Airport parking lot and let him bleed out. Yuri attempted to pursue Makarov by using the elevator but he passed out from blood loss and was treated by paramedics who had arrived during the aftermath. Makarov had fully succeeded in his plans. 234 civilians with unknown security personnel and FSB members killed or wounded. 

August 15th 2016 - Makarov was present at the Airplane Graveyard and unlikely to evade Shepherd without his forces or safehouse, he was contacted by Captain Price for intel and escaped

August 17th 2016 - Yuri, now a Loyalist and somehow healed from that gunshot after just 5 days? Is sent to assist Captain Price, other Task Force members and the Loyalists in protecting Soap from the Ultranationalists in Himachal Pradesh, India (poor Soap, I really thought he was a goner when I first played MW3, which he was in the end but still). Yuri facilitated the extraction out of the country and helped Nikolai in treating Soap.

October 3rd 2016 - Makarov committed the abduction of Russian President Vorshevsky. An unknown number of FSO agents are dead or wounded. In the absence of President Vorshevsky (because he is kidnapped) Makarov became the de-facto leader of the Ultranationalists

October 5th 2016 - Yuri, who is knowledgeable on Makarov’s patterns had pointed out possible locations he would go to and the location of an arms deal in Sierra Leone as well as speculating his security detail. Yuri, Price and Soap are unable to intercept the cargo shipments and the helicopter flies off with the precious cargo

October 6th 2016 - Makarov launched the detonation of unknown chemical weapons as prelude to Russian invasion of Europe 35k deaths in Paris and an unknown number of military and civilian deaths throughout the rest of Europe

October 8th 2016 - Price gains intel on an African warlord in Somalia, Waraabe who should have intel on Makarov via Macmillan. Yuri, Price and Soap breach Waraabe’s office and releases the gas used in the Europe attacks of the 6th of October. They gain intel on Volk and his location. Nikolai’s helicopter crashes and Yuri carries him to the emergency exfil

October 10th 2016 - Volk gives up intel on Makarov, regarding him going to a meeting with his top advisors in Hotel Lustig in Prague to Sandman who relays this information to Price. Yuri, Soap and Price evade the Russians and help the Resistance and eventually make it to the Church tower to establish a sniper position.

October 11th 2016 - Yuri and Soap set up a sniper position at the top of the church tower where they plan to assassinate Makarov. Makarov, who was already prepared for this event, addresses Yuri directly and Price too I guess. He detonates the explosives within Hotel Lustig and the Church Tower, killing Kamarov. Yuri and Price manage to bring Soap into the Resistance building but he dies, his last words revealing Yuri’s relationship to Makarov. Price gets pissed. The Russians attack the building so Price punches Yuri into the basement and Yuri tells Price about his relationship to Makarov, why he defected from the Inner Circle (he was fr young and patriotic). Price is convinced about his revelations.

October 12th 2016 - Yuri informs Price about the Karlstejn Castle which Makarov uses to cache weapons. Price then asks MacMillan if the place sounds familiar and UAV surveillance was done in the area so the location had been confirmed. MacMillan states that if Makarov is at the Karlstejn Castle, he will be at the control centre. The main objective is to determine Makarov’s location. Yuri and Price infiltrate the castle, climbing up a narrow passage, they gain a visual of the control room and they witness a video call between Makarov and Alexi, President Vorshevsky is being interrogated from nuclear launch codes and it is revealed that Makarov’s men are after the President’s daughter. Yuri and Price then escape after Alexi had been notified that the castle had been breached.

October 13th 2016 - Makarov’s men abducted Alena Vorshevsky from her safehouse in Berlin, unknown number of her bodyguards are dead

October 14th 2016 - After Alena Vorshevsky was kidnapped, the helicopter had taken her to a diamond mine in Siberia. Yuri, and the team manage to find Alena Vorshevsky and she reveals that her father had been taken deeper into the mines. The team manage to rescue President Vorshevsky however the mine shakes as a result of explosions, Sandman calls for air evacuation, a Black Hawk and a Little Bird arrive but the Little Bird crashes and Yuri is hit by it but is helped by Truck who moves him into the Black Hawk. Price gets onto the helicopter. RIP Sandman, Grinch and Truck. The news reports that President Vorshevsky is returned to Russia, Moscow, “peace talks between Russia and the U.S” occur but “Ultranationalist leader, Vladimir Makarov is still at large.” Makarov had tried to nuke Europe by coercing nuclear launch codes out of President Vorshevsky but he failed hard. Sucks to suck.  

January 21st 2017 - It is the end of the war, Yuri accompanied Price to the Arabian Peninsula after successfully tracking down Makarov in the Hotel Oasis in Dubai. Yuri got impaled by a piece of debris when a helicopter destroyed a part of the hotel, yet he encourages Price to go after Makarov. Yuri manages to gather his bearings and saves Price from Makarov. Yuri shoots Makarov’s left shoulder but Makarov shoots him twice in the chest and a third time at the head. Price took advantage of Makarov pausing and killed Makarov via hanging.

I just find it so funny that if Yuri had been around until 2011, it means that he was totally okay with 29 acts of terrorism until they screwed over 30k marines because that was the specific point in time in which he really began to doubt Makarov and the Ultranationalists. I also find it funny that he definitely probably left the Spetsnaz after Makarov left, we stan a supportive husband!!! Though, Yuri isn't the only one that's pussy-whipped, Makarov had multiple chances to kill Yuri and he just didn't (until in Dust to Dust, I guess) but that's a story for another day.

[zepskies]

hey love!! so in awe of your writing & writing style and i wanted to ask which fic of yours is your favorite?

Well hey there, my lovely!

Oh wow, you're so kind, thank you!! 🥰💜💜 That is a tough question... So I'm going to cheat a little bit and give you my top 3:

3. Smoke Eater (Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.  That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator. 

This was my first full AU series. It came from my love of Chicago Fire and medical and cop procedurals like it. Throw in a murder mystery, arson, former playboy Dean, and other angsty storylines in the middle of a whirlwind romance, and you got yourself a firefighter AU! ❤️‍🔥

2. Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

I feel like most people would expect me to answer this one for number one, but it's still very close to my heart. It was my first real foray into the complex, lovable asshole known as Soldier Boy (Ben).

And it was my attempt at creating a redemption arc for him through an "enemies to lovers" story, edgier than anything I'd done previously, thanks to the grittiness of The Boys world.

I've continued writing far past the original series because I just can't quit these two, and this version of Ben.

1. Midnight Espresso Series (Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized Latina Reader)

This is a collection of stories in the SPN fandom, and it's very personal to me! (I'm plus-sized and Latina.) Though I tried to make it so all readers, regardless of race/ethnicity or otherwise, could enjoy those stories as well.

It gave me the chance to pair Dean with a reader character who is also a giver like him, who looks out for and cares for him in the same way he cares for others, all while being a badass hunter herself.

From dramatic and angsty hurt/comfort to fluffy smut, I've tried to explore many facets of their relationship, while utilizing both my heritage/culture and my personal experience with body insecurity, body shaming, etc. Like BMD, this is a series I can always come back to and write more stories for. 💜

Bonus: The Honorable Choice - (Dean W. x OFC)

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

I haven't dropped this one yet, but I'm mentioning it because it's currently one of my favorite projects that I've worked on so far!

⬆️ Part 1 coming on 11/03 (Read it on Patreon now!)

[bullet-prooflove]

To Make A House A Home: Endeavour Morse x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @lieutenantcrosby @to-grow-in-and-to-love @gwyn73

Companion piece to:

Next Time - Morse doesn't expect to meet his soulmate on the lawn at Oxford.

La Petit Mort - Morse and you share your first kiss in the rain.

California Dreaming - Morse turns up at your classroom to discuss the night you spent together.

The Detective & The Professor - You and Morse turn heads at a university event.

What’s In A Name - Morse refuses to tell you his first name.

Equal Opportunities - Fred Thursday realises that Morse has a girl.

The Golden Notebook - Morse enjoys watching you work.

Bruises - You see to Morse's care after a beating.

Rarities - You and Morse discuss the fact your differences.

The Right One - Morse's bad trip leads Fred Thursday to question your intentions.

The End of Time - You support Morse in his recovery leading to a revelation between the two of you.

The Divine - Morse goes skinny dipping for the first time.

The Libertines - Morse makes a confession about a past relationship.

The Other Woman - You find another woman in Morse's bed.

Joan - You come face to face with with the other woman.

Song of the Evening Star - You and Morse finally discuss what happened with Joan.

Art Deco - Morse doesn't think about marriage... until he does.

Distance - Morse struggles with the distance.

Woodstock - Morse has concerns about your relationship after he's reassigned to Woodstock.

Despite the fact Morse hates Woodstock. Woodstock loves Morse. They love the fact he used to be a detective sergeant, that he has a glamorous partner that takes the train from Oxford every couple of weeks. They talk about the murders he’s rumoured to have solved, the disappointment that he doesn’t attend to church and when he’s finally going to put a ring on that poor girl’s finger.

He thinks about that a lot too. Every morning when he gets out of bed and opens the top drawer of his dresser he sees the black velvet ring box nestled there between his briefs and he feels that pang in his chest. You’d probably be married by now if he hadn’t been transferred out of Oxford, he’s sure of it.

“You need to start making this place a home.” You tell him four months into his banishment to rural hell. You’re standing in front of a handstitched quote from the bible that’s fixed to the wall in the living room. “I feel positively depraved when I fuck you in view of this thing.”

“The things you did to me on that couch were positively depraved.” He reminds you as he raises his gaze from the book to admire your backside in those navy, high waisted trousers of yours. “I’m surprised we weren’t struck down by God himself.”

“You’re avoiding my point.” You remark, tilting your head as if trying to ascertain how to pry the thing off the wall. He sighs then, closing the book because he can never get away with anything when it comes to you.

“I don’t want to make it a home.” He tells you as he leans forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. “Because it’s not my home, my home is back in Oxford with you.”

There’s a forcefulness in his voice, one that has you deflecting your attention away from the stitchwork and back to him. He looks away, biting his lower lip because he’s betraying himself, showcasing his insecurities.

“That doesn’t change you know.” You say crouching down in front of him, your palms resting on his knees, your thumbs tracing soothing circles. “It doesn’t matter where you go, your forever home will always be with me. This is just the place where you hang your hat for now, where I do unspeakable things to you under the eyes of the Lord.”

He laughs then and it breaks the tension that resides in his chest.

He has to work on Sunday and that infuriates him because his time with you is always limited. There’s been a break in at the church, some silverware has been pilfered, that’s followed by another burglary further down at the post office and then a small arson attempt on the green. By the time he’s finished with it all, you’re already on the train home to Oxford, which upsets him even more because he didn’t have a chance to actually say goodbye.

He doesn’t get back to the cottage until the late evening and when he steps through the door he can see you’ve been busy. There had been a market in the village you’d told him you were going attend. You’d grown quite fond of the home made jams and always leave cake in the pantry for him.

It’s the pitcher of wildflowers on the kitchen table he spots first. An eruption of colour amongst the grey that’s slowly becoming his world. There’s a piece of paper propped up against the glass with your lipstick mark on it and he smiles as he runs his thumb over the pert shape of your mouth.

When he steps into the living room to pour himself a scotch he notices one glaring change, one that he could never have predicted. The stitchwork has been removed, tucked away God knows where. On the wall in its place are three pictures, scenes depicted from his favourite Greek classics, pages pulled out of books you’d purchased from the second hand book stall and set into glass frames. He spends the night, listening to music, the soft, grey, hand knitted blanket you’d also purchased tucked over him as he stares at them.

When he goes to bed that night, he realises you’ve hidden the police regulation bedding that he’s been sleeping in, instead crisp white sheets with tiny blue cornflowers brighten the room. Your scent clings to his pillow, lovingly sprayed because you know he suffers the first few nights you’re away.

“I was worried.” He admits a few weeks later when you return to Woodstock. The two of you are lying on a picnic blanket in one of the fields amongst the long grass. Your book has been long cast away and instead your tucked against his chest, watching the clouds pass overhead. “I was worried that making it a home meant I wasn’t coming back and I don’t know what that means for us.”

“I guess that means that I shall be making Woodstock my weekend home.” You tell him, your palm rubbing soothingly over the space underneath his shirt where he was stabbed a few years ago. “I’ll attend village fetes, volunteer at the library while you work, bake those pie recipes that the book club keeps giving me-”

“You bloody well won’t.” He says forcefully, rolling you onto your back, tumbling you onto the blanket. “You are an Oxford scholar, you won’t throw that all away because of me.”

“I think I’d rather quite suit being a country wife.” You continue as your hands run through his unruly curls and he bites back a moan as his body settles over yours, caging you in. “We can get chickens and I can…”

He kisses you then, partially to shut you up, partially because when he looks at you here amongst the grass in Woodstock he can envision that life and it’s an image he wants to erase entirely.

“Promise me you’re not planning to retire to the country.” He mumbles in between fervent kisses as your fingers chase along the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them. “That you’ll stay in Oxford, marry me there.”

“You’d have to ask me first.” You tease as you begin to strip the fabric from his shoulders, your lips ghosting along the curve of his throat, nipping at his jugular.

“Maybe that’s what I’m doing.” He whispers, cradling your face between his hands so he can look into your eyes. “Asking you in my roundabout way.”

“We’ll marry when you come back home to Oxford.” You tell him, as his thumb chases away the smeared red lipstick from your mouth. “When your time here is over and we exist in the same space again.”

“You could be waiting a while.” He murmurs against your lips. “I’m not sure how long they plan to keep punishing me.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you.” You tell him with a fierceness he feels in the depths of his bones. “All you had to do is ask.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[brights-place]

do you mind doing a Branch x rock troll reader?

Branch dating an Rock troll! S/O

Pairings: Branch X Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry for the late post I've been kind of busy hon! anyways take the request! <33

- He met you when poppy introduced you to him since you were going to be helping him expand the structures of pop village - Branch would be confused at first when he realize he likes you - You slowly started to bond after awhile of hanging out and him learning about your genre as he told you about his back. - It's known pop Troll is extremely happy, strives happiness and seeks fun above all things which is so like them but its also true that they are prone to absolute panic when things go wrong, often overreacting in a comical way - But branch didn't have that atrribute well he had the panicking bit but the happy and fun part? that was... uhmmmm yeah no - Branch takes awhile to open up to you especially after well The Rock world tour - I mean come on! Barb was leading an world tour and all the crimes she has committed has changed his whole view of rock trolls though he is trying to welcome them slowly - This Dude Is Autism Coded you can’t change my mind! (I’m autistic) - Attempted world domination, Attempted cultural genocide, Hate crimes, Terrorism, Piracy, Malefic, War crimes, Crimes against trollkind, Mass invasion, Mass kidnapping, Serial grand larceny, Mass brainwashing, Unlawful imprisonment, Abuse of power, Conspiracy, Psychological abuse, Extortion, Minor arson, Assault and battery, Mass property destruction, Attempted mass slavery, Corruption, and Public endangerment! He has an whole list of crimes that were committed by barb

- Though after awhile of hanging around you he couldn’t help but feel relaxed and allowed you to touch stuff in his bunker

- He Let you meet Gary and you are the only one allowed to hold Gary and know everything about him. (Gary from trollstopia if you know)

- Branch enjoys how you listen to him when he rants about things

- You were so worried when he said he would drink his own sweat which you told him not too and is unhygienic

- After awhile he would notice subtle things about you and would learn more about you and your hobbies which poppy pointed out was kind of weird for branch since he never does that for other trolls a lot but him doing that for you? Poppy smirked - He fell for an ROCK TROLL! - This man was so confused and questioning himself as you were standing in front of him telling him about your new song that you wrote and were gonna preform with Petra, Romper and Rose - He was an pop troll... you were an rock troll you were different!

- Branch would listen to you about speaking about your genre and you listen about pop genre aswell - You two would do duet songs of rock songs and pop songs but if you could convince him to sing rock songs with you he would try... It turns out he’s good at it

- You teach him some Rock n Roll greetings and handshakes which he got used to

- He did the handshake infront of poppy doing the rock n roll greeting handshake with Riff and Barb who laughed and they told him where you were which made branch flustered

- Poppy stared at him with sparkling eyes squealing questioning if you two were dating which you weren’t… Yet!

- If Branch ever found something that would suite you for example some studded belts or leather braclets he would think of you and would buy it

- Whenever you meet up he would always have an gift that reminded him of you

- His love language is Acts of Service, Quality time and sometimes Gift giving

- Though he wouldn’t mind some affection from you since whenever you see him you hug him tightly

- Introvert X Extrovert type of bond!

- You are his opposite and that’s what he loves about you

- Your smile your laugh and yes you may be different genres but he loves you so much because of it.

- Your comfortable in your own shell and you help him to become comfortable with himself aswell!

- branch is thankful for you though you mainly come to his bunker then he comes to volcano rock city since he finds it hard to breathe due to well the lava and Asch along with the foggy presence

- Though he will visit if you can’t come if your sick or your doing an show

- He stared up at you when you were on stage signing while playing your guitar while maintaining eye contact with him

- After the show was done you rushed to him hugging him squealing excitedly glad he came to see your show

- He couldn’t help but stare at you with an spake in his eyes which you returned before leaning in kissing eachother with an smile on both your lips

- Barb coughed into your hand as you giggled while branch hid his face in your shoulder grumbling

- “Love you” Branch muttered as you smiled back “I love you too”

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[asexual-juliet]

stay alive - a haymitch playlist by asexual-juliet

1. Stars Around Her - The Mountain Goats I saw you coming through the twisting vines outside / I saw the new moon collide / With the stars clustered around her Something bout Lenore Dove and the Covey and the stars and Haymitch looking at her like she hung the moon <3

2. Dog in This Fight - The Rough & Tumble My girl can be fierce, can be mean / My girl’s more muscle than she is machine / She might be angry and she might be right / All I know's she’s got a dog in this fight Lenore Dove u will always be famous but also the whole song is very Games-coded… thinking bout Wyatt and “Who’s gone and lost his head tonight? / Who’s gonna throw down bets on a no-win fight?” and the fact that Haymitch DOES have a dog in this (no-win) fight!!

3. Heel Turn 2 - The Mountain Goats Come unhinged, get revenge / I don't wanna die in here / I don't wanna die in here Everything is so terrible but he doesn’t wanna die in here!!! and even after the arena, “throw my better self overboard, / shoot at him when he comes up for air” …yeah. 

4. Wildfire - The Rough & Tumble Does it make it less wild if you start it? This is a song about arson so like the connection is obvious but also the whole spark/fire motif with Haymitch and Katniss and “That’s the thing about me and you / Can’t tell the oil from the flame / Til we set the sirens off.”

5. I Bet On Losing Dogs - Mitski I bet on losing dogs / I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring / where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down / I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side He bets on losing dogs & he bets on little doves & he has a dog in this fight but he cannot help but look out for the little ones in the arena <3

6. Icarus - Bastille Icarus is flying too close to the sun / and Icarus's life, it has only just begun / This is how it feels to take a fall / Icarus is flying towards an early grave It’s about self-harm it’s about alcoholism he’s “standing on the cliff face / highest fall you'll ever grace” and he’s flying too close to the sun!!

7. Liquor Man - The Rough and Tumble Get yourself a fifth of something / Get yourself filthy drunk, and / that’s when you can calm back down yeah. 

8. Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1 - The Mountain Goats Find where the heat's unbearable and stay there if you have to / Don't hurt anybody on your way up to the light / And stay alive / Just stay alive The fire motif… him punishing himself and making sure no one can get close to him so that he can’t hurt them… and of course “stay alive.”

9. You Or Your Memory - The Mountain Goats St. Joseph's baby aspirin / Bartles and Jaymes / and you or your memory drinking shitty alcohol and thinking about the memory of someone he’s lost i said oh i’m sure

10. Training Montage - The Mountain Goats I'm doing this for revenge / I'm doing this to try and stay true / I'm doing this for the ones they had to leave behind / I'm doing this for you specifically this is about them training for the 75th Games and also Haymitch’s thoughts leading into the second-attempt revolution. 

11. Mining Shaft - The Rough and Tumble I am a bird in the cage / You are the Earth’s leaking gas / And here in the dark / No lantern my age / I would fall down the old mining shaft this one’s got coal mining metaphors AND songbird metaphors!!! also “I am a bird in a cage” …he IS!

12. Nothing You Can Take From Me - The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping self-explanatory. 

13. Take up Your Spade - Sara Watkins Shake off your shoes / Leave yesterday behind you / Shake off your shoes / But forget not where you've been this is the vibe of him settling down and making a little family with Katniss and Peeta after the war <3

[kinardsevan]

BuckTommy/911 fic masterlist

as promised, here is your master list for everything I've written so far (and will continue to update as it changes):

(Divide added because this is getting kinda long now)

UPDATE: UNDER CONSTRUCTION - (this list is getting fairly long, so it may grow in to separate pages as I work on it in the coming days/weeks)

The Song Lyric Series:

Just as the title suggests, these have mostly been lyrically driven. The intention is for them to remain looser than a story, but so far it's been the same plot. (subject to change)

what if there's a little boy that needs a safe place :

Chapters: 1 Rating: M Warnings: n/a

“I’m sorry Evan,” Tommy stated genuinely as he watched Evan drop his towel and then redress. “I honestly don’t know what to say.” Evan huffed, unable to hold all the feelings in any longer. Everything felt so tight—his chest, his throat, his stomach. He couldn’t keep it all buried inside against Tommy’s lack of an answer. OR. The one in which Evan is not okay with a drunk rando flirting with his very beasty, very sexy boyfriend and it leads to professions of love.

they all led me to him (he's one of the good ones:

“I might’ve mentioned fucking you properly earlier this evening,” Tommy says, and even in the midst of wanting the older man to tear his body apart, Evan knows that this moment is as serious for Tommy as it was for Evan earlier. “Yeah,” Buck rasps, unable to stop himself from grinding his hips against Tommy. “Please do so.” “I’m not going to,” Tommy replies softly. OR. Tommy wants Evan to understand just how in love with him he is. Chapters: 1 Rating: E Warnings: n/a

i'll be here (and you can lay by my side) :

Chapters: 2/? Rating: E Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

When Tommy has to look back on this weekend in the years that come to pass, he won’t have the words to express how things went from so right, to so wrong. He’ll struggle to even find a way to comprehend the trauma inflicted by having his soul shredded right in front of his face and absolutely unable to prevent it. And at its worst, he won’t even have words to explain it all. OR. part 3.

Multi-Chapter Stories

your arson's match, my somber smile (the love of my life): Chapters: 4/? Rating: n/a (subject to change) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

In that moment, the nanosecond in which he had crystal clarity, only one thing mattered to him. As his feet finally slipped out from under him, just before the warped metal came swinging down at another angle, he looked Bobby in the eyes. “Tell Tommy I love him.” And then the world was black.

guilty as sin (i choose you and me, religiously): Chapters: 1/2 Rating: T Warnings: n/a

Buck and Tommy's first kiss, as told through Tommy's POV.

Never Til Now (Rolling Up The Welcome Mat) Chapters: 5/? Rating: M (for themes) Warnings: n/a

"Maybe there’s something about tangibility, about holding the real thing versus just the idea of it, but it cracks something open in him that hasn’t existed in a long time. Because all of a sudden, he can’t imagine not having this. Not getting to see Evan like this, every day. And it’s barely been thirty seconds." - In March 2025, with plans to propose, Tommy realizes Evan wants kids. the problem is, Tommy doesn't. In November of the same year, in a happenstance exchange, he meets their baby girl. (OR, we take a trip through a dual timeline in which the idea and reality of having kids drives Evan and Tommy apart, and then brings them back together.)

The Devil Doesn't Bargain Chapters: 14/? Rating: E Warnings: Rape/Non-con, Self-harm, Suicidality (discussed and attempted), PTSD, Anxiety, ALL THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

Tommy Kinard lived a whole life before he walked into Evan Buckley's life, and it's not one that he's offered up much of so far. Until Evan starts asking questions. Trigger warnings for sexual assault, abuse, and so forth.

you're the only one (who ever gave a damn) Chapters 2/2 Rating: M (for themes and mild sexual content) Warnings: Rape/Non-con

“I um… I don’t know,” he admits softly. “C’mon, Tommy,” Eddie replies. “No, not like that,” Tommy says, looking back up at Eddie. “Not like I don’t have a real excuse. I don’t know like…like I really don’t know, Eddie. I was drunk. I remember being at the bar with you and the other guys, and joking about you and Evan sparring the next time we were going to train, and then…” He pauses, shakes his head. “Nothing. I woke up in a house I didn’t recognize.” Eddie stares at him, coffee cup in hand and mouth slack, and Tommy waits for the judgment to come. He’s fully prepared for Eddie to tell him what a dick he his for going home with some other guy and having drunken sex. But Eddie doesn’t speak. Eventually, he’s quiet so long that it makes Tommy uncomfortable. “Look, I know you’re over there judging me-..” Eddie blinks a few times, shaking out of his reverie as he lowers his coffee mug to the counter. “Tommy, man, that’s not cheating,” he states matter-of-factly.

a set of empty bones chapters: 18/? rating: E warnings: rape/non-con, graphic depictions of violence, PTSD, suicidal ideation, self-harm

“You’re not even paying attention right now,” he growls. “Look, Eddie,” Evan tries, lifting his hands up in surrender. Eddie’s eyes trail from his eyes down to his lips, his chest, and then back up at him, and Evan doesn’t like the way it feels. Something about the entire moment feels uncomfortable to him. Eddie sets the bowl on the counter and puts his hands on Evan’s ribs, pushing him back towards the fridge. “Eddie, man, what’re you doing,” Evan stammers nervously. BTHB: "you can scream all you want", lacerations, betrayal

Minis:

the rhythm of your heartbeat: Evan has night-terrors. Tommy has to contend with them.

you are the reason: post 709 buck/bobby conversation in which Buck makes it to Tommy's.

Connecting: 709 deleted scene. Evan is getting dressed before the medal ceremony, and Tommy's pretty sure he's going to make them late.

oceans deep, rivers wide: Evan has a realization after a work incident. Tommy concurs. burn it to the ground: Tommy knew the first time he kissed Evan Buckley he was burning his whole life to the ground.

for a thousand years (and a thousand more): In which Tommy tells Evan what it was like falling in love with him. 30 Day Fluff Challenge: Concept list found here

Prompt Minis: here

Others/Oneshots:

something stronger than me (i can hardly stand up, i can hardly breathe): Chapters: 1/1 Rating: E (for language) Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, TW: Self-harm, TW: Suicidal ideation

It had been years since he’d been down this low. At least, that’s how he’d been presenting it to others. But in the darkness of his apartment, where his boyfriend couldn’t see his legs because their schedules were conveniently not aligning ever since Gerrard’s arrival…his thighs were coated in fresh wounds.

The Saboteur: Chapters: 1/1 Rating: M (for language) Warnings: TW: homophobic language, TW: harrassment

Five times Tommy Kinard is faced with having to file a complaint against Vincent Gerrard, following his reinstatement at the 118.

take me to the other side Chapters: 1/1 Rating: E (for themes) Warnings: n/a

“So what’s on your mind,” Tommy asks him. “Are you imagining a specific scene? Or a particular want you’re thinking about?” “Not a scene, necessarily,” Evan says, twiddling his thumbs. He’s struggling to piece together the words in the right way to convey what he’s actually wanting. “Okay,” Tommy says, accepting his answer. When Evan doesn’t speak again right away, Tommy prompts him. “I want…?” Evan gulps. “I want…I-i want you to t-t-tie me up."

you're the only one (in the dark, i see) Chapters: 1/1 Ratings: T (for language) Warnings: n/a

He closes the door behind Tommy, his hand still resting on the handle for a beat as he stares at Tommy’s back. He wants answers, and if this is his last chance to get them, then God damn it, Evan’s going to get them. - Tommy breaks up with Evan after Gerrard's return to the 118. Evan is not okay with this decision.

BuckTommy Week 2024

Day 1, Date Night: Rating: General

clay wheels and no ghosting: Tommy and Evan attempt ceramics and talk about things.

Day 2, Emergency: Rating: M (suggestive language)

Under the Weather: Evan and Tommy fall ill

Day 3, Bad Weather Days Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence) Chapters: 2/2 its hurting (but it ain't dead) : Tommy is pissed. No one called him to ask him if he was cool with this idea, and it really doesn’t matter to him in the moment that they didn’t actually have to. It was Evan. They had allowed his boyfriend to put himself in the line of fire without bothering to even ask if that was something he was alright with. He wasn’t even forewarned; just showed up to a scene where they’d been asked to send extra support in plain clothes. But if he’d known…oh, if he’d known…

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 1D, MATCH 2 OUT OF 16!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Linh Cinder:

Her glass slipper is her prosthetic foot. She's a cool badass mechanic queen. She's named Cinder because her aunt set her on fire as a toddler but she survived. She's a a cool cyborg with psychic powers, and she's also a really good mechanic.

She's a cyborg and she's from the Moon

She is a badass mechanic who is also a cyborg and did not intend to get dragged into this mess. She becomes a fugitive of the law, running from the prince who is also her romantic interest and is just objectively the best.

I love a sarcastic character and I love a good confrontation scene and she's great with both

she's a cyborg she's a mechanic she's a princess she's a fugitive she's the best.

She's a mechanic she's the lunar princess she has two prosthetic limbs she's supposed to be dead. Her best friend is an android who's a fangirl of her boyfriend (Kai, the emperor). Her ball was actually her showing up to keep Kai from getting seduced by her aunt (who's queen of the moon) and then killed. Instead of losing her slipper she just lost her entire foot. (That's all just in the first book.)

look man, if you've read tlc you know why but if not: cinder here goes through a lot, from living in a shitty household to leading a rebellion and witnessing what's practically a massacre (TWICE), getting stabbed in the mc'freaking heart and surviving, being a wanted fugitive, Oh, and also, she loses her goddamn FOOT instead of a glass slipper lol (albeit the foot is a prosthetic, which i might've forgotten to add, her left arm and (i think) leg are metal due to getting BURNED as a toddler by her somewhat power hungry aunt)

She's SO cool she's a mechanic and really clever and also an amputee and her prosthetics are very cool and she has fun space adventures with her little gang of found family and is also the heir to the crown on the moon and is trying to get control of it from her aunt (who's a dictator) so she can help the moon people be less oppressed! tl;dr she's a girlboss

She literally got set on fire. Shes a cyborg. Shes such a girl boss that her love interest kept her severed prosthetic foot as a memento. She is a revolutionary [against her will] and a politician [also against her will]. Shes a skilled mechanic, and called the queen of a super-powerful alien race with the ability to manipulate people’s perceptions of reality ugly TO HER FACE. Queen does not give a shit and just wants to hang out with her robot bestie and her dork ass boyfriend who is also the leader of an entire country. Shes iconic, she is the moment.

she's a teenage cyborg who works as a mechanic and is secretly royalty - a badass and i love her!!

Kickbutt cyborg Cinderella princess

Cyborg and mechanic is a fun new twist on classic Cinderella! (At least when I read it and it was new). Plus she’s got her Prince/Emperor all wrapped around her fingers before the ball!

she's cool as fuck that's why!! cyborg cinderella in a cool-ass future sci-fi world, she doesn't have glass slippers so she loses her ill-fitted cybernetic foot, she has a gun in her cyborg hand (mostly uses nonlethal projectiles), she has cool sci-fi magic mind powers, she's from the moon, she's a mechanic & she's smart as hell, she literally forms a ragtag team of other fairytale inspired characters & dethrones the evil queen of the lunar monarchy. also her prince charming is cool & funny & they're so sickeningly in love their feelings could power the sun. anyway vote Cinder ✨️

cinder is a mixed cyborg mechanic who has acquired beef with both her stepmother (adopted) and her bio aunt (tyrant queen levanna) and manages to escape their attempts to keep her down (including arson when she was like. 3 years old) and ultimately overthrows her aunt in a revolution lead by her and the other fairytale retellings (red riding hood and wolf, rapunzel and her ‘prince’, and her cousin snow white and her prince) and establishes a democracy! i enjoyed the series growing up and i personally think that cinder is very cool :]

The first book in The Lunar Chronicles is a retelling of cinderella, and my gosh it’s amazing. Cinder is a cyborg and faces a lot of prejudice, and it’s interesting to see that even in the future, where the book is set, there’s still so much discrimination, and Cinder faces it so well. She’s smart and snarky, and has such character growth and cares so much and akhjfqwthbj

shes cinderella if cinderella was a cyborg and also secretly an alien moon princess. fucking amazing series everyone should read it. It's very common for Cinderella retelling that "girlboss" her end up sending the weird message that victims of abuse should simply stand up for themselves <3 I really like Cinder because she's spunky and snaps at her stepmother, but it doesn't. do her any good? It just makes her stepmother worse. Also one of her stepsisters is nice, I love Peony.

Cyborg Cinderella, long-lost princess of the moon, revolutionary against the evil queen.

she’s a cyborg! instead of losing her shoe on the steps of the palace her entire foot comes off 👍 thats hard as fuck she’s so cool

Cinderella:

Because she is so cute in this, I love her outfits before and after the transformation, and this movie is just such a good adaptation of Cinderella

the 1997 cinderella movie is the best one ever to me like. you have whitney houston as the fairy godmother and brandy is so so so pretty and she's such an amazing cinderella. 10 minutes ago the best cinderella song of all time ever she sounded so good<3

does this movie even NEED propaganda?

Brandy Cinderella with Whitney Houston! Need I say more?

Brandy plays one of the best iterations of Cinderella actually

I just think she's neat. Also she looked the best in the ball gown

One of the most iconic Cinderellas of all time, Brandy brought tenderness, earnestness, and heartfelt poignancy that transformed the story and emphasized its humanity and themes of dreaming for the future. Her voice is celestial! The power of her performance is undeniable! As a lifelong Cinderella fan she was always one of my favorites.

A lot of children grew up watching this movie around the holidays.

This is my favorite version of Cinderella and Brandy absolutely KILLS IT as Cinderella!! Her voice is so sweet and beautiful. And her dress!! I love her peplum. ALSO HER BRAIDS MAKE A BUN AND ITS SO ADORABLE. just look up the soundtrack for this movie PLEASE

[soupbitch-moneybitch]

comprehensive list of how ofmd characters would fare if tasked with destroying the ring of power in the fires of mount doom

would be immediately corrupted by the ring:

badminton twins

prince ricky

would use the ring for evil and/or chaos for fun:

calico jack (and it would get Weird(tm) )

spanish jackie (jackie loves her some eternal power over all living creatures in middle earth)

roach (love the guy, but the chaos would be too enticing)

ned lowe (duh)

anne bonnie and mary read (sometimes you gotta spice things up. god forbid women do anything amirite)

evelyn higgs (god forbid women do anything x2)

pre-stede, peak blackbeard era ed (his heart wouldn't really be into it, but it would be expected of him, and he'd do it for the image more than anything else)

would make an attempt to get to mordor but wouldn't make it:

pirate queen zheng (has too much power already, she'd pull a boromir, or more likely, pull an aragorn and accept that she can't be the one to take it, and instead would take down saruman and lead the battle outside the black gate)

ivan (has good intentions, but is too much of a traditional pirate and would inevitably get corrupted)

the swede (he would give it the ol' college try, but would get lost, and fall into the dead marshes, or get stepped on by a tree ent or something)

ed and stede (they would try, but would 10000% lose the plot, probably as early as rivendell when they start dicking around dressing up as elves and pretending to be elven royalty, and then, through a series of wacky misadventures, would somehow end up opening an inn in the shire and being completely unaware of the fact that all the hobbits really don't love having men living among them, but they sell cheap drinks and good food, and that's all hobbits really care about so they let them stay)

wouldn't go to mordor in the first place:

lucius (um, that sounds like a LOT of walking, and he has much better things to do)

pete (would volunteer, but it would be unanimously decided that "maybe you should sit this one out, bud")

wee john (the ring is too basic and tacky and wouldn't go with his Look(tm), and also he'd prefer to stick to what he's good at: napping, sewing, and arson)

archie (would be prepared to go, but the second she gets her hands on it, she would start using it as a party trick like, "lol, look guys, i'm invisible!" and then would inevitably get murdered by ring wraiths)

could go to mordor and destroy the ring, but wouldn't:

auntie (she could definitely destroy the ring, but she's too busy making sure the red flag stays afloat, and keeping the pirate navy in check--she doesn't have time for petty concerns like "the fight between good and evil")

buttons (mad galadriel energy--would be able to refuse the ring, and this would then elevate him to the next phase of his transformation into an all-knowing, all-powerful being, who is also probably a bird)

would make it to mordor but wouldn't destroy the ring:

frenchie (he gets to the fires of mount doom only to realize he dropped the ring somewhere along the way and has no idea where it is)

mary (could make it to mordor, but the feeling of power for the first time in her life after years of being subservient in a shitty society would make the allure too strong in the end)

jim (would probably become corrupted if they were the one carrying it, but could 10000% act as a cutthroat body guard throughout the trek)

would make it mordor and would be able to destroy the ring:

oluwande (the purest of heart, perfect cinnamon roll, too pure, doesn't know how to pronounce "china"--he would never become corrupted)

doug (he would be the sam to mary's frodo, but in a very casual chill way, like "oh, you're being corrupted? no worries, babe, i got it")

is gollum:

izzy hands

my assessment is perfect and correct, but feel free to add your thoughts if you think i'm wrong (but i'm not)

[typellblog]

Tsubasa Tiger - An Analysis

This is an arc about personal identity, which is fitting for the first book in the series narrated by someone other than our main character. Tsubasa’s halting attempts to discover herself feel almost in parallel to Nisio’s attempts to expand her internal world beyond that perceived by Koyomi.

It quickly becomes evident that Hanekawa Tsubasa does not know herself, the usual catchphrase of ‘I only know what I know’ recontextualised with the understanding that there are many things she does not know on purpose. This is what Izuko tells her, and note that for all her talk of Tsubasa knowing nothing, the specific facts that she focuses on - the tiger, Tsubasa’s feelings for Koyomi, the cram school burning down - are things that Tsubasa should know about. Izuko doesn’t stun her with information that would be impossible for Tsubasa to obtain, but rather things that it should be impossible for her to not know.

This absence is at the heart of this arc’s central oddity, the titular tiger. It’s rendered variously as the Tyrannical Tiger, Hystery Tiger, History Tiger, etc. I think the most immediately relevant things to draw on when talking about it are how it symbolises both the past and Tsubasa’s strong emotions. However, in her usual fashion, neither of these are immediately obvious in the tiger, which appears out of nowhere, rooted in no history, motivated by no emotion. It is singularly uninterested in these things, and that is precisely why it is useful to her. 

Its role is to burn the past. It is powered by her ‘dark’ emotions, but is not itself touched by them. Its habit of arson is found in her envy, the repressed desire for a home of her own leading her to destroy those of others. She also, in a more personal sense, envies the family. Her parents growing closer to one another. Hitagi and her father. The Araragi siblings and their mother. 

The reason, then, why she manages to stop herself from destroying their houses as well is because of the genuine intimacy and love that she manages to build with Hitagi and the Fire Sisters (as partially represented by the shower/bath scenes). She never manages to hate Hitagi for ‘taking’ Koyomi from her, because despite loving Koyomi she ends up a little bit in love with Hitagi too.

Over all three of Tsubasa’s arcs we’ve slowly been approaching the truth of the similarity between Koyomi and Tsubasa. The difference between them and Hitagi, or Kanbaru.

Tsubasa is someone that resists change, refuses to move forward. To some extent the backwards chronology of her first two arcs doesn’t matter because the conclusion is almost the same. Just don’t worry about it. Continue as normal.  This can seem a frighteningly noble thing, from Koyomi’s perspective. It is a frighteningly broken thing, to Tsubasa. 

Hitagi says she’s a ‘failure as a creature’. That she has no sense of danger, simply accepting everything as it comes. The concept of the ‘wild creature’ invoked here is obviously connected to how her oddities manifest as animals, holding the instincts and impulses that she rejects in herself.  She eats her food unseasoned, not because she prefers it that way, but because the difference in taste doesn’t matter to her. She approves of goodness to the exact same extent she approves of tediousness, of flavourlessness, of banality. In that sense, Hitagi questions, can even her love for Koyomi be considered real? Does she have a reason to prefer him in particular?

We’ve been told that she’s the ‘real deal’ in comparison to Koyomi’s fake, but what that turns out to mean is simply that Koyomi has a basic level of self-awareness. He knows how it looks to others, to be so self-sacrificing. It makes you stand out. Tsubasa fails to recognise this - how else would she still have the misconception that she’s been correctly acting as a ‘normal girl’?

Besides that one point, the two are remarkably similar. Their lack of self-regard drives them into service of others, all the while stubbornly refusing to reach out for help on their own. Koyomi fails again and again, repeating the same mistakes, accepting his old hypocrisies, and through it all, remaining himself. 

That’s why she loves him. Because he ‘confronts his own weakness’. Because when he saved Shinobu he was crying, and Tsubasa can’t remember the last time she herself cried. 

The second chapter ends with Tsubasa noting that she always gives thanks after a meal, for the plants and animals that have been killed ‘for my sake, of all creatures.’ Especially after spring break, she says. After encountering a vampire, after witnessing what it is to be a vampire, to devour someone else’s life for your own sake. But here I also think about the cat. An animal that died on the side of the road. A predator, whose energy drain selfishly takes from others. 

Just as Koyomi and Tsubasa are alike, so are their oddities. They both take the form of creatures that are capable of imposing on others, of asserting their own desires over those of others, and for that reason the both of them are deathly afraid of letting them out. They shrink back inside themselves, trying their best to avoid bumping into anyone else, to avoid cursing them with their touch. 

But where Koyomi, in his fumbling way, makes progress & reconciles with Shinobu, Tsubasa casts her cat aside. She loses the memories of its rampage after it leaves. This doesn’t seem strange at first. We assume this is how the oddity works. It is how it works! For Tsubasa. The cat isn’t the one removing her memories, she just went ahead and did that on her own. Like she does with everything. 

There’s a conversation between cat and vampire in this book. Shinobu brings up the tale of Napoleon sleeping in the bath & points out that two very abnormal things can combine to seem normal. Black Hanekawa is one such abnormal thing, an oddity, but going down this train of thought has Hanekawa wondering if she isn’t one herself, if her own ability to ignore inconveniences and tolerate the intolerable isn’t also something ambiguously supernatural. 

Episode says that she had an ‘overwhelming presence’ when he met her during spring break, that she almost seems normal now, having since cut off the cat from herself. Having cut off the tiger. It’s almost a contradiction. The more she relies on supernatural powers, the more normal she herself becomes. 

Perhaps the model student persona of Hanekawa Tsubasa was also a constructed identity, constructed for the purpose of protecting herself, just as Kuro was. 

After all, to a vampire’s eyes, there’s not much of a difference between human and oddity.

Again we have the oddity as a twisted reflection of its master. Shinobu sees everyone equally as food, while to Koyomi both humans and oddities are equally in need of his help. He saves Shinobu despite her monstrous nature, he saves Mayoi despite her being the cause of the incident. To him there’s no distinction, both Kuro and Tsubasa are Hanekawa. 

We are going to be seeing nightmares for the rest of our lives, he tells Tsubasa in Neko Kuro. You will never stop being that person. Because when it comes down to it, he doesn’t, and neither does she. 

It feels a little off. People can change, can’t they? People can always change. Does she really have to drag that cat, that tiger, around with her forever? In this book we get a more complete picture. What cannot change is the past. What happened, what you’ve done, that never goes away. You can become a different person as much as you like, as long as you never deny it. That the cat, the tiger, they were, are, both you. You can change as much as you like, but all of those changes, steps and missteps are still Hanekawa Tsubasa. 

Her mistake was pretending that the cat wasn’t her, pushing everything onto Kuro as though it had nothing to do with Tsubasa herself. 

As Gaen points out though, this is normal. Everyone goes through their life lying to themselves & each other to cope. Tsubasa isn’t special. What makes her special in this arc is accepting the oddities as part of herself, asking them to come home. Supposedly they’d disappear on their own. From both an oddity’s perspective, and a human perspective, that’s the preferable outcome. But just like Koyomi, Tsubasa doesn’t see this from an oddity’s perspective, or a human’s perspective. To her the cat and tiger have become family. 

The theme of this series, then, really hasn’t changed from the first arc, where a girl without her weight takes back her emotions. 

Hitagi and her own self-driven changes are vital to this arc, her affection for Tsubasa driving the girl to accept help freely given. Tsubasa still resists the idea of calling Koyomi, taking up his time, making her feelings known to him, and so both Hitagi and the Fire Sisters end up demonstrating the virtues of kindness freely given, what a family ‘should’ be like. This helps Tsubasa understand the character of her own family situation, one that she finally bluntly articulates as abuse. 

Both Tsubasa and Koyomi have that tendency, looking away from uncomfortable truths in order to maintain their way of life. Take, for example, the situation with Kanbaru, where he’s just a bit too charitable, doesn’t quite understand how much she wants him dead. He’s unable to solve the incident on his own, unable to realise the problem with getting himself killed to solve it, and in the end is only able to provide a justification for Hitagi and Kanbaru to meet. To buy time for her to get there. 

It’s an overstepping of bounds, a needless intervention, an unwanted favour. But it’s not pointless. 

It’s a classic Koyomi-narrated arc, in that way. He’s a bit slow to understand the mind of the ‘victim’, is unsuccessful in his attempts in intervention when compared to Oshino, the specialist, and Kanbaru has to just go ahead and save herself. 

Consider, now, the structure of Tsubasa Tiger. For once, our protagonist isn’t Koyomi. And yet, in a similar manner to Koyomi Vamp, we find the narrator herself to be the one afflicted by an oddity. 

She’s a bit slow to understand what’s going on in the mind of the victim, has the situation laid out for her by Izuko, the specialist, and in the end - 

Her attempts at intervention are unsuccessful. She can’t defeat the tiger on her own. She can only buy time. 

Just as Koyomi’s business with Kanbaru is an overstepping of bounds, a needless intervention, an unwanted favour, Tsubasa’s business with the tiger is ‘impossible, reckless and-’

Not futile. Never pointless. 

Isn’t the point of Koyomi in Suruga Monkey that without him risking himself, the two may never have come back together? That despite being unwanted, his selflessness is, in the end,  appreciated? 

The point of Tsubasa Tiger, then, is that people will come to help you if you call them. Koyomi demonstrates this in Nekomonogatari Kuro, with his text message trick. Here, in Shiro, Tsubasa returns the favour, finally reaching out to him by sending a picture, escaping the carefully constructed boundary of her school uniform, letting him know that she wants to stay in touch with him, that she doesn’t mind imposing on his time a little. 

One might question the role of Koyomi in this narrative, appearing at the end to save the day. Isn’t this arc supposed to be about Tsubasa? Doesn’t she have to resolve her own issues? Do we not all have to save ourselves?

That was never true, though. Koyomi’s appearance at the end is almost an afterthought. It’s Oshino’s final proposal in Koyomi Vamp. It’s Hitagi’s arrival in Suruga Monkey. It’s Shinobu’s emergence from the shadow in Tsubasa Cat. 

The protagonist role Tsubasa inherits from Koyomi is not the ability to solve incidents, it is the ability to help, to be there for someone. Just as Koyomi was able to face her feelings head on in Tsubasa Cat, willing to give up his life for her in Tsubasa Family, just how she was able to be a friend to Koyomi at his lowest point in Kizumonogatari - 

For the first time in a while, the one that Tsubasa Hanekawa tries to take care of is herself. 

And that's all for now. This arc is great. Gonna have to hurry up a bit if I want to finish this before the new season comes out . . .