#she had glimpses of compassion for the people around her and then it was just to ripped away from her

[solarityk]

I'm loving season 5 of miraculous so far. it's very interesting. The story is ramping up, and I love it, but I'm absolutely mourning the character that Chloe bourgeois could have been if she were actually handled properly.

[gguk-n]

Dreamer's compass (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people can see glimpses of their soulmates in their dreams. Max is happy his soulmate is also a cat mom.

Y/N grew up not really thinking about soulmates until she was nine or ten when she had the most vivid dream of being in some sort of racing car. It didn't look or feel like a car but it was going fast, really fast. There was no one on the track, just her soulmate, going round and round at a really high speed. She woke up startled because this wasn't her thought of a nice day or even a fun activity to do with her friends. She recounted her dream to her best friend and they tried to decipher what that could've been. Until, her brother told her what she was describing was a kart and her soulmate was probably into karting, professionally or recreationally. She couldn't wrap her head around why someone would do that, but to each their own.

The second time she saw her soulmate was many years later. She saw her soulmate in a racing set up. It was on a chair behind a screen. After a quick google search, she found out that was called a iracing set up. She was glad her soulmate had moved on from driving out by himself. This seemed a lot more safer. His house looked big and luxurious; he must be a streamer. She did try to find people who would fit the bill, but there were a lot of streamers and this was proving a lot difficult than she had hoped.

Max spent his whole life racing. For him, he knew nothing but Formula One. So, being able to see parts of his soulmate in a dream was a breath of fresh air. The first time he saw his soulmate was when he was seven or eight and she was singing songs, they were songs you hadn't heard on the radio but songs about the mundane tasks she was performing. She sang about watering her fake plants or cleaning up her toy area. Max woke up with a smile, thinking about his soulmate.

The next time he saw her, she looked beautiful. The sun's ray's were shining down on her, he couldn't make out her face properly but she was sat with two sheets in hand, as she strum her guitar, she wrote down the lyrics and the notes. She looked like she was having fun and laughing along to the lyrics she was writing down. He didn't want to wake up from that dream because from some of the words he could make out, she was writing about him, her soulmate.

Max had had a tiring day and fell asleep as soon as he got home. The scene that greeted him when he awoke, gave him a shock. There were not one, not two, not three but five cats in his living room. The five of them were doing there own thing. He knew he had a problem but he didn't remember picking the other two up. He was about to scream when a voice called out; "Dinner's ready" and Max turned to find his soulmate; in his house, cooking. He knew this was a dream; one he would think about till he met his soulmate. The pair chatted, her face still not clear, he could barely make out the features. To Y/N too, who was simultaneously in the dream, watched as her soulmate interacted with her cats. But she couldn't see his face, what cruel fate. The two enjoyed the domestic bliss that would be their reality if they met, until they woke up. Y/N woke up with a smile but was deeply saddened as to why she hadn't met him yet. Max felt like he hadn't felt this happy in a really long time. He wanted to meet his soulmate as soon as possible.

Just like that one of these days, Max came around a petstagram for two cats called pbndj with a brown and a orange cat, who looked eerily similar to the cats in his dream. He ended up following the page and as he found out more about the owner, only glimpses in the post but his heart felt like she was the one. He ended up dming her that he was her soulmate. She was rightfully shocked but when she found his iracing set up, it looked very similar to the one in her dream and decided to believe him. They ended up chatting for a really long time.

Eventually, they were able to plan a meeting time. They decided to meet at cafe. Max was nervous, he had reached earlier. He waited for her, checking every time the door dinged. Finally, Y/N walked in. Max stood up from his seat, when their eyes met, they knew. They were right, it was like all the memories of their dreams cleared up and they saw the face in their dreams clear up. They knew it was them. They walked towards each other and awkwardly shook each other's hands, soon falling into a comfortable conversation.

"I never understood that dream of you strumming your guitar and writing down something" Max stated, months after they met. "But now I do" he explained. "It's because you're a song writer" he smiled. "Bingo" she cheered. "I can't believe I have to deal with anxiety about your profession" she laughed shaking her head. "I'm so good, I'll manage" he cocked his head. "Sure you are, four time champion Max Verstappen" she smiled kissing his lips. "I just wish you were actually a streamer. You look hot" she stated. "Not while racing" he pouted. "I can't see you at all. You're a bobble head" she said. Max laughed deeply and nodded, "Agreed" he said. "You're coming right?" he asked. "If I can find a cat sitter" she stated. "Let's take them too." Max said throwing his hands up in the air. "That country has too many regulations. It'll take us months" she replied. "Mood kill" he stated. "Practical" she replied. "I'll make it. Don't worry" she kissed him on the cheek. Max smiled at her while she helped pack his bag for the next race.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 6 - The Kim Estate

Chapter Summary - A little bit of Y/N's backstory and her family's history. She gets a tour of the Kim Estate from San and Wooyoung and gets a brief glimpse into the boys' private lives.

warnings: San does get a little violent towards the end, and Wooyoung cracks a few sex jokes (MDNI)

Series Masterlist

The house I grew up in was nothing short of a prison. I had all the luxuries of high society, yes, but that didn't mean I felt the same warmth and compassion children should be surrounded with.

My father owned a fashion company, Belluxe, one of the biggest in our part of the world. He had a lot of ties with some dangerous and powerful people, and as I got older I realized how much it had really gotten to his head.

The power. The greed.

I was forbidden to talk to him when I was young, only if we had guests. If I did without permission, he'd get angry. He had only gotten physical with me once, and that was when our family bond broke forever.

I was nine years old, home from boarding school with Christmas like I normally would be. My younger sister was ecstatic to have me home, finally having someone other than our mother to play with. Our older sister, she wasn't around this time. I figured she'd stayed at school for the holidays, but as I got older I found out she had run away.

I went by a different name back then, first and last. I'd changed it once I was disowned at 17, wanting to leave that old life behind. It was a lot easier than it should have been, all things considered.

I remember we were sitting at the dinner table, the only sound coming from our cutlery scraping across the porcelain plates. My mother had asked briefly how school was, and I gave a short but honest answer; "It was alright."

My father leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty seat where my sister should have been. He cleared his throat, causing us all to turn our heads in attention.

"Chariya, you'll be the next heir." He says simply, my old name, it felt weird hearing it even if it was just a memory. "Since Chalita has failed to exceed my expectations."

My family was Thai on my mother's side. She'd named us all after members of her family still in Thailand, bringing a piece of her old life with her.

Mother and Father married after father knocked my mother up with Chalita, the eldest. My mother used to say he was a kind man until she gave him too many daughters and no son. I think she just used it as an excuse to hide the snake he really is.

"My love, she is too young-" My mother states before she is cut off.

"Enough! I told you not to speak against me." He shouts, slamming his fist down on the table. My little sister, Chaluai, begins to cry at the sudden noise. My mother bows her head and stands, taking Chaluai with her as she exits the dining room.

I stare down at my plate, hearing the sound of his chair creaking as he leans back.

"Your mother doesn't understand the ways of this world." He says. "But one day you will."

I was startled awake by a knock on the door, causing my body to jump from my skin.

"Hello?" I call out groggily, sitting up.

"Uhm... Y/N? It's San." A muffled voice from the other side of the door calls out.

"Right..." I murmur, the events from the last few nights creeping their way back into my head. I stretch and swing my legs over the side. My feet hit the wood as I shuffle towards the door, opening it slowly.

San stands there on the other side, wearing a suit a little different from the one he wore last night. His eyes widen as I open the door, quickly looking up.

"Just thought I'd wake you... Wooyoung and I are home whenever you want that tour." He says, finding the ceiling very interesting.

"Oh! Just give me a few minutes and I'll come find you." I say, fingers gripping the door. San nods before hurriedly rushing down the hall and towards the stairs. I watch him go before closing the door. He was a lot shyer than last night. Maybe something was on his mind.

I walk into the walk-in wardrobe and look around at all the luxurious clothes hung up for me. There was a cabinet in the center, inside millions of dollars worth of jewelry for me to choose from. I feel a shiver run up my spine at the sight. It had been so long since I'd seen anything like this, and it felt wrong.

I hadn't worked for it, I didn't buy it myself. These men had only met me last night yet they were already willing to spend millions on me. Why?

I settled on a simple top and skirt, slipping on some fluffy slippers that were positioned neatly beside my bed before making my way out into the hallway.

The eery silence shared with the darkness of the hallway settled a sick feeling in my stomach. It was so quiet, that no chatter or thumping of footsteps could be heard. I figured Wooyoung and San were downstairs somewhere, praying that they weren't the type to jump out and scare me.

I head towards the staircase, the scenery getting brighter as I peek down at the pretty white marble that now glittered in the sunlight. My hand slides down the railing as the stairs take me to the lower floor. I gaze at the paintings on the wall, one of all 8 of them positioned on and around a fancy-looking couch, and another with a younger-looking Hongjoong, who I assumed to be his mother, father, and brother.

I didn't know he had a brother, I wonder what happened to him?

I glanced left and right once I reached the bottom of the stairs, the house felt like a maze, going on forever in both directions.

"San? Wooyoung?" I call out, my hands finding my elbows as I glance around. I decided to go left, entering what seemed to be the main living room based on the three couches and the fireplace with a television situated above it. I reach my hand out and press my fingers into the plush cushions, feeling the soft fabric beneath my skin.

"Y/N?" A voice makes me jump, I turn around to see Wooyoung standing in the doorway I just walked through. He had a grin on his face. "Scared ya?" He says with a light cackle.

I splutter for a moment before crossing my arms tighter. I watch as he scans my figure, admiring my figure.

"Eyes are up here, Wooyoung." I tease, as he stares a little too long at my legs.

"Yeosang picked your wardrobe well." He says, ignoring my words and stepping a little closer. "Would prefer you don't wear it around me though."

I hold my hand up and stop him from coming any closer right as San enters from another door behind me.

"Hongjoong said we should give you a tour." He says gruffly, his hair looking a lot messier than it was when he visited maybe 20 minutes prior. I glanced at his knuckles, noticing the light bruising that had begun to blossom before he quickly hid them in the pockets of his jacket.

"I'm ready to start whenever you are," I say, offering him a smile which he hesitates to return.

"Well, this is the main living room. Pretty obvious since it looks like a living room." Wooyoung chirps, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "Don't mind if San is a little quiet. He gets grumpy when he has to work early."

I glance back at San as Wooyoung starts to lead me through another archway into a large room. I gasped as the realization hit me that this was a ballroom. A large and grand ballroom, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. There was a grand piano on a small platform tucked away into a corner, floor-to-ceiling length windows with a matching door that led out to the backyard and a large diamond-clad chandelier dangled from the ceiling.

I could feel Wooyoung's grin as I slowly moved away from him, my jaw hanging slightly as I walked to the center. There were mosaic patterns that formed a lily flower on the floor under my feet which made me smile.

"Seonghwa told us to open the curtains for you, they haven't been opened since Hongjoongs parents were alive. The only person that uses this room is Mingi when he wants to play piano." San says from behind me. "Hongjoong's mother painted the lily flower herself."

"It's a painting?" I ask, turning to look back at both of them in surprise.

"Doesn't look it right? She was extremely talented at making things look different than what they are." Wooyoung says, the same grin on his face.

The tour went on, and every room amazed me more than the last. The kitchen was huge, almost twice the size of my bedroom with a dining room attached to it which was just as big. My mind wandered to all the grand dinners they must have hosted when Hongjoongs parents were still alive. Did they host balls too? It would be foolish not to considering how beautiful the setting was.

There was a pool, a greenhouse, and even a golf course in the backyard. I glanced over the hill and caught a glimpse of a tennis court on the far side of the golf course. I wondered how many acres this house was on. We weren't that from the city, however I couldn't see any other buildings for miles.

Inside on the first floor, there was a two-story library, another 2 smaller seating rooms, and laundry/housekeeping quarters behind the kitchen. The hallways were twisting in all directions, as if intentional. Was the layout meant to confuse people? Maybe intruders?

It would be smart if it was, all things considered. The house was intimidating from the outside just on its own, getting lost on the inside felt like a terrifying idea.

"Do you guys have maids?" I ask my arm now linked with Wooyoungs. I'd hate to be a worker here, having to clean this house would have to take days. Not only that but cooking? Laundry? Maintenance work would be a nightmare too.

"We do, they have Sundays off." Wooyoung answers, leading me back to the main stairwell. "Upstairs is mostly bedrooms and bathrooms. Hongjoong's home office is at the end of the hall on the right." He adds.

I nod, my neck craning to look at the paintings lining the walls once again. There was a painting of a woman, a beautiful woman with long black hair and piercing green eyes with freckles dusting her cheeks. I stared at the painting for a moment, getting a sinking feeling that she was staring back.

"That's Aurora." Wooyoung murmurs, eyes on the painting too. "She was... The one before you." He hesitates to say, glancing down at me before looking back up at the painting. I let go of his arm and climbed a few steps to stand directly in front of her painting.

"She's beautiful... Pretty name too." I say softly, my eyes softening as more details reveal themselves.

"You would have liked her," San says, his arms crossed as he looks at the painting, a sad look in his eyes. "She was like you, not a dancer though... More of a reader."

"If you wanted to find her she'd only ever be in the library," Wooyoung says with a small chuckle. "Most of the books in there were gifts for her, from us." He says.

"What happened to her?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as I turn back to them. They're both staring up at the painting, Wooyoung lowers his head and lets out a soft, pained sigh once he registers my question.

"We'll tell you in time. You should get settled first." San answers, his voice low.

Oddly enough, I didn't feel an ounce of jealousy. It was obvious she wasn't in the picture, whether she was alive or not. However, the pained look on Wooyoungs face and the behavior of the other boys when she is mentioned made me think it was the latter. I felt sad for them. It was obvious they loved her, maybe more than I would ever realize or truly know.

A part of me was envious of that fact. To be loved so unconditionally was something I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. But, another part of me was scared. Did their work have something to do with her death? It made sense in a way.

A loud crash made me jump from my thoughts. I look to San and Wooyoung who are suddenly on high alert before San grumbles something and storms off into the direction of the main living room. I glance at Wooyoung as I step down the stairs to follow but the man stops me.

"Don't follow him." He says in a hushed voice, gripping my hips in a tight hold as I glance behind him. My eyes widened, the door San had entered through at the start of the day was wide open with a man stumbling through. San grabs the man by the back of the neck and practically drags him back into the darkness beyond the door.

The man lets out a string of curses and begs as San slams the door shut behind them both, his cries fading into nothing the further they go.

"It's the basement," Wooyoung says, answering my question before I even had to ask. "It's the only place in this house that you are not allowed to go. Understand?" He says, his expression void of any playfulness I had come to associate with his character.

"I understand," I say, staring back up at him with the same wide-eyed expression.

"Good girl." He says with a grin, hand cupping my cheek briefly before moving away, heading towards the staircase. "Come, I'll show you everyone's rooms."

I glance at the door to the basement for a moment before following Wooyoung up the stairs.

I've decided to update the story consistently every Tuesday at 12 am (AEST). A Christmas special is being planned which will be set a few years after the events of this book.

I urge minors to not interact beyond this chapter, for it's going to start getting heavy from this point. I will be checking profiles to make sure so please have something to prove your age on your profile! I don't want to traumatize children <3

Also, I closed the taglist a little early however I'll be going through the comments and the past few posts and making sure I didn't miss anyone. If you aren't on it when this chapter is posted, I'll add you to the next one.

taglist:

@bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling

@neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

@vtyb23 @bigbabygremlin @professormingiglasses

@pinuspot @astral-trashcan @ateezswonderland

[goodnightbuckos]

I haven't posted any meta or much of anything on this side blog but let me put in my two cents that no one asked me for.

Firstly, yeah, there is gonna be a B plot. It was directly related to the A plot, because it was straight up, not even subtlely, about Athena coming to terms with Bobby's death. The denial and the hope that even if you think is foolish, especially a death so sudden. It also gave us a little glimpse of the impact Bobby had, on these people we've never even seen, that reminds us that Bobby had a whole life, and used his pain to feed his empathy and compassion. It also is just like, the thing about grief is that life doesn't stop. It can't stop, that's not possible. Things keep happening. Time keeps moving. The show has said that repeatedly, from Chimney after the rebar to Eddie dealing with his PTSD to Bobby's literal entire storyline. The characters still exist. They're still moving. They have to learn to live with that grief as they move forward.

Secondly, the episode wasn't solely about Bobby specifically because it was about his impact and his absence. He's gone. There's a Bobby shaped hole now. They could've gone for a full flashback "best of" episode, but the thing that this show has been clear about, to the point that Chimney even says it to Hen, is that funerals are for the living. This episode is about the characters still here. About the anger and unfairness and love lost. That's part of why the hallucination of Bobby acted a little strangely, too - it's not him. And it's not about him. It's about Athena. They didn't do more Bobby-centric flashbacks because that's the past, and the characters have to move forward.

Thirdly, yes, the episode focused heavily on two of characters: Athena and Chimney. They were the ones this narratively hits hardest. That's not to say that the grief felt by any other character is less important; they're all devastated. But this is still a continuation of the story from the two parter, this is the first ripples felt from that.

Athena’s lost her husband, she's angry and so filled with grief and she's distracting herself. She was letting herself hope, because if this kid isn't dead, maybe Bobby isn't either. She's going to be feeling this for a long time, but she's found her footing again. She's got her kids and friends to lean on. It's actually an interesting foil to Bobby’s story, because whereas he lost his wife and kids and ended up alone until Athena, this time around he's the one gone, leaving behind a wife and two kids. It's heartbreaking! It's supposed to be! It's a tragedy!

Chimney, on the other hand, is angry at Bobby for not even giving them a chance, even though he still hasn't come up with a way they could've changed anything. He's probably remembering that he asked Bobby to look after Maddie, and realizing that that's the moment Bobby decided he wasn't saying anything, because he says, "I won't let anything bad happen to your family." Bobby worded that very carefully, and Chimney knows why now. And he has to sit with that. It's not his fault, and it's kind of messed up for Bobby to have done it, but he purposefully took that choice away from them because he knew they would never be able to make that choice. Chimney hasn't accepted that yet. He's not talking to anybody yet. He's drinking, which could either be self harm or maybe, even deep down, he's doing it because he wants Bobby to come back and make him stop, or in a really fucked up way to punish either Bobby or himself, most likely both. It's ironic, in a way, because Bobby’s accidentally put Chimney in a similar headspace to season 1 Bobby.

Of course other characters deserve their time to grieve. It's one episode. Bobby's impact is gonna be felt every day for these characters. There's two episodes and entire 9th season to get into it if they want. Give it some time, there's only so much they can put in an episode logistically, especially with an ensemble cast. You can stop watching if you want, no one's making you watch, but if you're gonna keep watching, you gotta understand that.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Gay Cheerleaders AU

Y'all knew it was coming.

I'm thinking Lena would be the... third(?) year veteran, who is a legacy. Her mom Lillian was also a cheerleader, and then became the head honcho in charge of the cheerleading division. Lena grew up with the expectation of eventually joining the organization as a dancer, and naturally becomes a group leader (the youngest 1st group leader in the history of the organization?) through her sense of responsibility, magnetism, and compassion, even if she remains a little distant-- she doesn't share her whole self with the team, as she's constantly aware of needing to present the image of a perfect cheerleader, a perfect leader.

Kara would be the rookie, immediately awed by Lena's performance during tryouts. She's not in Lena's group, but her own group leader faces some... personality challenges, lets say, that have Kara taking on more of a responsibility than would normally be allocated to a first year dancer.

But when Kara and Lena end up bumping into each other in the studio for some solo practice, they agree to share the space and work together. Of course they end up bonding, and those practices lead to coffees, lunches, some movie nights.

They eventually become the darlings of the team, inseperably so. Young fans try to catch glimpses of them standing together on the sidelines, loving to see Kara acting herself (aka goofy) and seeing Lena laughing in response. Behind the scenes they become romantically and sexually involved, but they keep it hidden because while it's not explicitly forbidden, they do cheer for a very conservative state, and they know it would impact not only their squad but the team overall.

In their day jobs, Lena is a children's dance teacher-- she wants to do more, but Lillian wants it for the community-service image it presents. Kara would be a fitness trainer I think, something lucrative but flexible and reflective of her athletic and exuberant nature whereas Lena is a bit more reserved.

Kara and Lena span multiple seasons/classes, and in the off season Lena pops up on Kara's instagram a little bit here and there, which only fuels the quiet online rumors about them. Like, the people who clock them are also queer in a conservative region of the country, so it's not a mass pop-culture phenomenon-- yet.

That all changes when one night Lena is grabbed inappropriately by a cameraman or other stadium employee, and can't manage to extricate herself despite her obvious and vocal discomfort. Kara sees red. She slugs the man right across the jaw with a proper right hook. The cameras had only just started to pan over to Lena's commotion and catches the exact moment Kara lunges for him and spins Lena out of his reach.

Kara is the champion/brute of the moment, depending on who's talking. Some laud her for both her protectiveness of her teammate and her technique, while others condemn her for unladylike vigilantism. Why didn't she let the security team deal with it, she serves a role model for young girls what is she teaching them the thug life?

Most importantly-- and most dire, perhaps-- is that it clues Lillian into the deeper nature of their relationship. She corners Lena, and interrogates her as Lena tries and tries to deflect. Lillian all but tells her that she'll be watching Lena through a microscope, and terrifies Lena to the point she breaks up with Kara in an attempt to protect her tenure with the organization.

Kara doesn't really care about all that, but when Lena says it's what she wants, she respects that. Until the team goes to the superbowl, and in the height of emotions at the winning touchdown, Lena forgets herself and throws her arms around Kara's neck and kisses her.

She's stunned at herself, horrified even, but before she can even try to apologize Kara recovers and kisses her again, this time long and slow. The cameras not on the players or stadium stands are focused on them, and the next day and weeks they are the only ones anyone can talk about, for better or worse.

Lillian uses Lena's next year, her fifth and final, as leverage. Apologize publicly for her lapse in judgement, confirm it was only ever friendship, condemn Kara for assault-- or she's out.

Lena listens calmly, then smoothly rises.

"Then I'm out."

She walks out without a second glance.

[helluvabinge]

I absolutely loved Ghost Fuckers!

This episode paired with Hell’s Belles gives such important context to Millie’s character and her relationships. Now I want to go rewatch the show to see how Millie’s stories fill out with this backstory.

Loona and Moxie are an underrated comedy duo and I need more of them.

I also realized that I need more of Loona after this episode. Loona is nearly always antagonistic towards those around her, but we get a lot of glimpses into the types of things that bring down her walls and allow her to actually show love and compassion towards the crew. We know why the walls exist, but I want to see more of her discovering ways in which her family is different than the people in her past and learning that she can be different too without getting hurt.

And of course Blitz is getting a chance to grieve this episode. I know some people will probably be annoyed that he’s not just moving on, but the last two episodes dug up things that he probably has previously tried to move on from too fast. He was moping in a really unproductive way when the episode started, but by the end he finally had a chance to mourn the relationships he has lost. Not just Stolas, but all of them. He has always had a lot of guilt around losing those relationships, but it was always buried under an endless supply of bravado, so it was nice to finally see that stripped away. Without taking the time to feel that grief, you can’t really forgive yourself or move on, and I’m glad that the show took the time to do that. It didn’t have to. I think people would have accepted a much quicker resolution, but boy am I happy they decided to make time for this.

[artist-issues]

How many times do we have to say:

Create characters with strength of virtue, not strength of skills.

I just finished A Tale of Two Cities with the character Lucie Manette, who "does" nothing but love the people around her and extend compassion toward everyone within her sphere of influence. She makes no "choices" that contemporary audiences would award the stupid badge of "giving her agency" to. She doesn't make a speech that saves Charles Darnay's life. She doesn't lead the victims of the French Revolution into a counter-revolt. She doesn't fight off the soldiers that come to take her husband, or beat up Madame Defarge when she threatens her child, or even come up with the escape plan to flee Paris.

She makes none of those kinds of choices. (You know who does? Madame Defarge. But the compare-contrast between those two can wait till another day.)

But she makes these kinds of choices:

She'll give her honest testimony in a trial for a potential traitor to the crown, and demonstrate her compassion and grief for a near-stranger, wearing that vulnerability on her sleeve in front of a huge court of people clamoring for blood.

She'll be compassionate toward Sydney Carton, even though he's rude, careless, and brings a bad attitude into her happy home.

She'll spend the energy of her life making that home happy.

She'll stand for two hours in any weather on the bloody streets of the French Revolution so her husband might have a chance of glimpsing her and getting some comfort from the prison window.

She'll trust the older men in her life when they ask her to.

She'll allow an old woman to care for her and go everywhere she goes, and treat her like a child, as long as it makes the old woman in question happy.

And what, WHAT is the consequence of these kinds of decisions, choices, that some ignorant people call "passive?"

That old woman is allowed to love Lucie Manette so much that she defeats the villainess in the climax of the story, holding Madame Defarge back from getting revenge with sheer strength that comes directly from that love.

Her father is allowed to draw strength from the fact that Lucie believes she can depend on him--because she chooses to let her father take the lead and do the work of saving her husband, Dr. Manette is fully "recalled to life;" he doesn't have to identify as a traumatized, mentally unstable victim anymore, because Lucie is treating him like he can be the hero.

Her husband does see her in the street, and does draw strength from that--just that--instead of losing his mind the way her father, starved for a glimpse of his loved ones, did during his own imprisonment.

Lucie's home is so full of the love and kindness that she fills it with that not only does her father return to remembering who he is after his long imprisonment--but Mr. Lorry, a bachelor with no family, can feel at home with a full life, there. Miss Pross, whose family abandoned and bankrupt her, has a home with a full life, there. Charles Darnay, whose life of riches and pleasure as a Marquis was empty, has a home with a full life, there. In Lucie's home, because she spends her life making it the kind of home others can find rest in.

Sydney Carton, a man whose whole life has been characterized by a LACK of "care" for himself or anyone else, suddenly cares about Lucie. When he thought it was impossible to. And he doesn't care about her because she's pretty. Her beauty was just a source of bitterness for him--one more pleasure he could've had but can't. Until he "saw her with her father," and saw her strength of virtue, of pity, of compassion, of self-sacrificial love--then he felt that she "kindled me, a heap of ashes, into fire." He started caring about life again, where it was associated with her, because she brought to life every good thing. Just by being a woman of good virtue. And we know what that inspiration led him to.

Without Lucie's strength of virtue, and the decisions that naturally came from that, none of the "active" choices other characters made would have happened. Sydney would not have been redeemed. Darnay would not have been saved. Her father never would've been recalled to life. Miss Pross and Mr. Lorry would've had no light or love in their lives. Even Jerry would've had no occasion to learn from his mistakes and resolve to stop abusing his family.

A character like Dickens' Golden Thread, who does what a woman should do, inspires the choices other characters make. That makes her more powerful, in her own way, than the heroes and any decisions they make. Because she's the cause. She's the inspiration. She's the representation of everything good, right, precious, worth fighting for.

Lucie Manette's not the only character like this. Cinderella. The original Disney Jasmine. The original Disney Ariel. Lady Galadriel. Jane Eyre. Amy March.

"Behind every great man is a great woman," indeed! Absolutely! Bravo!

Hang on! Hang on to those kinds of characters. Those a real "strong female" characters. The muses, the inspirations, the reminders of The Greater Good. The people who make fighting the dragons worth it at all. Who cares about fighting the dragon? That's not so great, without her.

Don't forget those kinds of characters! Reading Dickens just makes me desperate for our generation to keep up the reminder: make characters that the next ten generations can learn from: strength of virtue is much more important than silly little strength of skill.

[bruteanarchy]

What is Sally's relationship with Harumi and Nya? It seems a bit... Longing

Why does she see such enormous admiration for both of them that it becomes a Paranoid?

(Hope you can answer this one🙏)

HAHAHHA OF COURSE I CAN ANSWER!!!! hi artemis 😚

my personification of sally came to me a long time ago in the form of short glimpses of the future…. i didnt care for her much and actually felt irritated at her character 😅i hated her pop singer gimmick and wanted to transform her into something different for fun, like a complete switch of musical genres just to see how i’d feel with the design transformation. thats where it ended for a long time, i didnt add any personality other then her thinking shes hot shit when shes really just a weird kid teenager finding her place in life. just a random redesign for fun one day when i was bored in class.

but recently (a couple weeks ago idk) in the middle of the night, me and coasty randomly thought of a what if; “what if sally had a funny parasocial attachment to nya and harumi.. especially harumi.” i usually sit on my headcanons and “what ifs” for a couple weeks/months before telling coast, then my little space on the internet .. but this time i wasted no time and drew sally fangirling over nyas punk riot grrrlness lololol

to me, my interpretation of sally is lighthearted and not meant to be taken too seriously. just a girl who’s finding her identity, and has the money (and the compulsions.. and graying moral compass bc a main joke of hers is buying fast fashion and switching “aesthetics” often) to mess around, also with a taste for chasing fame as a small musical artist ^^

sally admires harumi and nya because of their respective coolness and the fact that both of them are sorta celebrity figures who are constantly surveillanced and their every action is presumed and thought upon. sally just longs to be just like the cool girls she sees on tv — she doesnt actually know who they are as people, she only knows them as the water ninja and the quiet one..the idealized and shown parts of themselves on tv. also, sally just thinks harumi’s documented plight as the jade princess turned evil is #relatable (when the worst sally has ever done is run away from her parents to pursue singing)

like i said.. sallys supposed to be a lighthearted joke character to me, like somebody on tiktok who is really invested in subgenres/cultures like punk, but don’t actually take the time to know the history and commit to what it means to be that subculture.

heres some doodles i did of sally as a bonus bc i dont think i posted them here, ty for asking!!

[black-arcana]

See WITHIN TEMPTATION's Powerful New Documentary 'The Invisible Force'

A powerful new documentary, "Within Temptation: The Invisible Force", has just been released on YouTube and can be seen below.

The film offers an intimate and emotional glimpse into the life of Dutch symphonic metal band WITHIN TEMPTATION at a defining moment in both their career and the world at large.

"Within Temptation: The Invisible Force" follows founders Sharon Den Adel and Robert Westerholt as they become increasingly involved with the war in Ukraine. What starts as distant solidarity soon evolves into direct action, on stage and beyond.

Determined to go beyond lyrics in supporting the Ukrainian cause, Sharon travels to Kyiv to meet fans and offer them a message of hope through a special concert held in the heart of a warzone. During her visit, she meets BLIND8 — a young Ukrainian band with a raw and powerful sound, inviting them to join the band’s upcoming European tour. But taking part in the tour proves to be a challenge: the members of BLIND8 may face mandatory military service, and leaving the country is uncertain.

The documentary reveals how the war not only affects those living in Ukraine but also reshapes the creative and moral compass of artists around the world. How far can a band go in living up to their ideals? And what happens when music turns into activism?

"Within Temptation: The Invisible Force" is a compelling story about courage, music, and the invisible yet powerful force that connects people in times of war.

In the fall of 2023, WITHIN TEMPTATION co-sponsored the Ukraine Aid Operations boat fundraiser for the Ukrainian Marines. They donated 6,000 euros for 30 patches, which they packaged with a limited-edition box of their latest album, "Bleed Out".

Nearly a year ago, Den Adel spoke to Metal Musikast about WITHIN TEMPTATION's music video for the band's "A Fool's Parade" single, featuring Ukrainian producer and vocalist Alex Yarmak. Recorded amidst the streets of Kyiv with renowned Ukrainian video director Indy Hait, the clip captures Sharon at important Ukrainian landmarks. Asked what it was like to make a music video in the capital city of a country at war, Den Adel said: "Well, I was never scared to go there, because I was in good hands, to my opinion. We were helped to do this video and to organize everything, what we wanted to do in Kyiv, by the organization called Music Saves Ukraine. And they told us about the app that you had need to have. For instance, if you go into Kiev, which we did by night train from Poland, because there's no commercial flights from Amsterdam to Kyiv anymore. So we had to go by night train from Poland to Kyiv. And they told us to download an air-alerts app because everyone in Ukraine has that, and you can select a region that you are in and any incoming dangerous drones or airplanes, like MiGs, who are carrying a supersonic bomb or anything, they will put that in the app and you know what the danger is and how much time you have to go to a shelter. And there's shelters everywhere, even in the hotel that I was. And we once had to go underneath the metro station, because there was a MiG on their way. And sometimes it has a bomb, sometimes it doesn't. It's sometimes just looking and scouting where they can do something with the next airplane. And this time it wasn't wearing any supersonic bomb, which was good for us because it can wipe out a complete area in a matter of seconds."

She continued: "It's strange to be there, because normal life continues in Kyiv for 90 percent, to my opinion, when I was there, because when I left the bombing was actually intensified by Russia on Kyiv. But they have a good air defense system, which most rockets and bombs don't hit Kyiv itself, but the debris, of course, does, and the pieces of that, of the thing that they are trying to attack them with, it's coming still down on buildings and buildings do get hits and also bystanders. But if you know in time that they're coming, then you can go to a shelter. Most of the time it goes okay. So I wasn't scared because I knew this knowledge upfront. And, yeah, it is when the air alert goes off and when you see military people walking in streets, it's a different picture than the rest of Europe, of course."

In March 2022, WITHIN TEMPTATION was one of the artists who took part in a telethon concert in support of Ukraine. "Save Ukraine - #StopWar" united more than 20 countries and bring together more than 50 participants. The marathon was broadcast from Warsaw on the Polish TV channel TVP. In addition, broadcasters from many countries around the world rebroadcasted the marathon on their local channels.

[bestworstcase]

Could you elaborate more on if Summer and gylinda (sorry if that's spelled wrong) were narrative foils? That sounds really interesting!

right so from what little we know about what glynda’s been up to since the fall of beacon is that she is, to all appearances, the ONE member of the inner circle who took a deep breath after ozpin died and kept her shit together. the others:

lionheart, already a traitor, continued to ask how high when salem said jump

ironwood exacerbated the global crisis by withdrawing his troops and closing the borders, thus inflicting deep economic pain on mantle and eroding international trust

qrow imploded and had to crawl back up from rock bottom after his faith in ozpin was destroyed

theodore refused to act until it was almost too late to prevent the crown’s coup because he was preoccupied with the more distant threat of salem

but glynda? she took point on the effort to reclaim beacon academy from the grimm and whenever she wasn’t doing that she was personally rebuilding vale. the last we see of her in v3, she’s on the brink of collapse working herself to the bone in vale. but in ‘after the fall’ she’s holding things together, even if just by her fingernails; she’s on top of it enough to have team CFVY’s academic transcripts and a letter of recommendation ready for them when they decide to apply for transfer to shade. in v4, half a year after beacon fell, port and oobleck seem optimistic about the situation at the beacon (“there is still much work to be done at the school” says busy and difficult, but the mood isn’t dire). and when we glimpse her again in v8, it’s apparent that normalcy has been restored in downtown vale; the dust shop is open for business and the streets outside are not overrun by grimm.

glynda had a hellish nightmare situation thrust into her hands as the de facto new headmistress of a fallen school and the person all of vale turned to for protection and guidance in the wake of this horrifying tragedy, and within a year she managed to pick up the pieces and restore peace and safety within the city, even if she couldn’t take back her school. that is astounding, and especially striking in context with the rest of the inner circle crumbling.

what made her different?

this is speculative. but i think that glynda, like summer rose, is a true believer in the ideals that huntsmen are supposed to uphold: compassion, mercy, cooperation, striving for peace, defending those who cannot defend themself. she trusted ozpin, but unlike the others, her loyalty was not for him but for the things he claimed to believe… so when everything fell apart and the burden of leadership landed on her shoulders, she acted in accordance with those ideals. reached out, brought people together, trusted in those who offered their help, and kept widening the circle until the great burden had been shared between many hands. and after salem razes vale? she does the same. goes to find help.

(i don’t think she told anyone about salem, but rather she put her faith in humanity’s capacity to pull together rather than try to shoulder everything herself. this is in contrast to qrow during the haven arc and ironwood, who bring new people into the loop but see the world as hopelessly divided and riven by distrust.)

if i am right about this and also on the mark with regard to summer rose, this would position them as reflections of each other: both huntresses who believe in and embody the true ideal of what they are supposed to be, both guided in their choices by this staunch moral conviction. summer discovers that she is complicit in enacting a horrific injustice and without hesitation turns around to stand with the victim against even her own family; glynda weathers a catastrophic tragedy and stands tall while every other pillar of ozpin’s circle collapses because she puts herself among the people and inspires them to keep pushing with her. both of them Do What’s Right.

which makes it very narratively compelling to juxtapose them with each other, because they are opposites—fighting on opposite sides—but they are also the same.

furthermore, summer has been holding beacon academy against glynda’s siege for the last year-and-a-half or so; either summer has been able to avoid notice during this time, in which case glynda is due to be hit by a freight train of a moment of realization, or glynda has seen her and knows that her opponent is summer rose—a woman who may once have been her student or her classmate, depending how old glynda is supposed to be, and certainly someone she knew and worked with fourteen years ago when they both believed in ozpin.

if that isn’t grounds for a very personal enmity in the vein of cinder and winter or qrow and clover, i will eat. my. hat. summer was there the night beacon fell—she’s the one who left ruby alive when she scraped cinder off the tower—fighting on the side of the grimm. she’s the one who’s been steadily drawing grimm to the school on salem’s behalf! that is glynda’s home! those were her students who died that night! and in reverse, it is almost certainly glynda who knows the secret of the vault’s location, glynda who remains steadfastly loyal to the divine cause of subjugation-or-annihilation, glynda who upholds the system summer fights to tear down. DO YOU SEE MY VISION… the disciplinarian and the revolutionary…

[hxzxrdous]

The School for Good and Evil

Platonic Lady Lesso x Clarissa Dovey x reader

TW: None, I was in a goofy and silly mood when I wrote this

CLOSE YOUR EYES

(This gif made me cackle)

The creaking of the wooden bed filled the air as you settled in, all ready for sleep. However, your tranquility was abruptly shattered by the distinct sound of heels clicking and a cane rhythmically tapping against the floor. Before you could fully comprehend the situation, Lady Lesso burst into your dorm room unannounced. Without uttering a word, she grabbed you by the hand and pulled you with her as she walked down the hallway in silence.

Confusion laced your voice as you tried to comprehend the direction in which you were being taken. It soon became evident that your destination was the infamous Doom Room. You had heard whispers about this ominous chamber, but what had you done to deserve such punishment? Could it be your grades? "Ma'am?"

"Silence, child," Lady Lesso hissed through clenched teeth as she swung open the door to the Doom Room, promptly seating you upon a chair positioned on the elevated podium. As you surveyed your surroundings, your eyes locked onto the two chairs placed in front of you. The room itself was adorned with an array of weapons, their ominous presence sending shivers down your spine. You nervously swallowed, anticipating what awaited you.

Yet, nothing could have prepared you for what unfolded next.

The dean of the neighboring School for Good, located just across the bridge, entered the room, clutching a blanket and a bag. The evil dean coughed awkwardly, casting an assessing gaze in your direction.

"Dovey told me about a certain incident that occurred in the clearing during lunch, when she was on duty," Lady Lesso spoke, her words tinged with a mix of apprehension and concern. Her eyes roamed around you, taking in every detail.

Your eyes widened, realization dawning upon you. This was because you fainted from the lack of sleep the other day? Were both deans planning to punish you for displaying weakness?

"I'm really sorry," you blurted out, shaking your head in an attempt to convey your remorse.

Silence!" Lady Lesso snapped, her voice cutting through the air with a sharpness that demanded your immediate compliance. After a brief moment, she sighed, as if momentarily relenting. "Before you continue babbling, let me finish," she continued, her tone now carrying a touch of weariness. "Dovey informed me that prior to your arrival to this... hallowed institution, you relied on something called ASMR, on some sort of device to help you sleep every night."

Her voice softened as she spoke, revealing a rare glimpse of understanding. However, her stern demeanor quickly returned. "We are all well aware that improper sleep will lead to students not performing their best. This, in turn, increases the likelihood of the forces of Good triumphing over Evil yet another year," she explained, her words laced with a sense of gravity. Meanwhile, Professor Dovey stepped forward, presenting you with the blanket, her expression conveying a mixture of compassion and concern.

"So, let me make it clear that I am not undertaking this task for your sake," Lady Lesso declared, her voice regaining its steely resolve. "I am doing it for myself, for the sake of maintaining our standards of excellence. And... if you tell anyone, you'll win yourself a second trip to the Doom Room."

You watched in confusion as Professor Dovey retrieved a book from her bag, placing it in Lady Lesso's hands. Lady Lesso began tapping her silver-painted nails against the book's cover, displaying a touch of exasperation. "This is ridiculous. Why don't people simply read th-" she began, but her words were swiftly interrupted by Dovey. "Just do it, Leonora," Dovey interjected, her tone firm yet gentle. The good dean turned her attention back to you, offering a warm smile as she assisted you in wrapping a soft blanket around yourself. The soothing scent of lavender wafted from the fabric, instantly calming your senses. Returning her focus to the bag, Dovey delicately produced a glass slipper. "I borrowed this from Cinderella," she whispered softly. "I'm not sure about your fashion preferences, being a Never, but I believe it's quite beautiful." Dovey knelt in front of you, bringing the glass slipper closer so you could examine it more closely. "It's difficult to fully appreciate its sparkle in this dark room," Dovey murmured, redirecting your gaze to Lady Lesso, who continued tapping on the book behind Dovey. "You have a talent for this, ma'am. ASMR seems to be your secret skill," you confessed, feeling a blush color your cheeks. "Is that so?" Lady Lesso furrowed her eyebrows, momentarily taken aback, before clearing her throat. "Well, I suppose I excel at many things," she stated, lifting her head with pride and opening the book, slowly flipping through its pages. Meanwhile, the other dean settled into the second chair, tapping the glass slipper lightly. "I hope Cinderella won't be upset if it gets stained," Dovey whispered softly to herself. Carefully, she returned the slipper to the bag and repositioned her chair closer to you. "May I touch your hair, dear?" she asked, her voice gentle and kind. You pondered for a moment before nodding in agreement. Slowly, Dovey began stroking your hair, her touch gentle and soothing. The good dean's whispering voice was barely audible, but as Lady Lesso began to read from the book, you discovered that Lesso's whispered words were the one that were the epitome of calmness. Her voice had a silvery quality to it, with just the right amount of hoarseness and breathiness to suit your taste. "You can close your eyes, sweetheart. Don't resist it," Dovey whispered, her hand caressing your cheek. Soon you began to drift off to sleep when you felt being lifted up by one of them. You sleepily leaned your head on their neck.

"I can't possibly carry her up the stairs to her dorm, Leonora," Dovey whispered, her hand gently resting atop your head. "Let's take her to my chambers instead. It's just this way," Lady Lesso responded in hushed tones. Before long, you found yourself lying upon a comfortable bed, the softness enveloping you. The sound of their conversation drifted into your sleepy consciousness. "Now, where's the kiss you promised me, for doing this, Rissa?" Lady Lesso's voice carried through the hallway outside the room.

[teadari]

On the streets of Yokohama, bathed in a dim half-light, Y/N walked on, passing whimsical neon arches that cast dancing reflections into every alleyway. The city itself—impossibly bright and unyielding in its rhythm—seemed to have a heartbeat of its own, pulsing between the quivering lights and the scorching asphalt. The crowd showed no pity for those who had lost their way: the parade of faces was utterly indifferent to the sorrow weighing upon Y/N. She had come here in a desperate attempt to find her family; not torn from her by some dreadful death, but scattered instead by the cruel hand of fate.

And yet hope, like a stubborn spark, refused to die in Y/N’s heart, urging her onward. But the city was merciless: day after day, she wandered the same roaring thoroughfares, scanning the endless stream of people for any familiar face, her tired eyes no longer capable of distinguishing one passerby from another. The nights were even more punishing, their cold seeping into her very bones, strengthening her doubts. Then one day, stumbling from exhaustion down a silent alleyway, she finally sank to the damp ground, her cheeks burning with bitter tears. Her family was out there somewhere in this concrete jungle—but how could she conquer a place vast enough to hide even its own shadows?

It was then that Ryūnosuke Akutagawa appeared like a crawling mass of darkness. He emerged from the half-light, gliding quietly in his long coat, commanding every inch of space around him. One look was enough for Y/N to feel the prickling of fear: there was a sense of menace in his bearing, something forged in the very depths of the city. His posture was straight and forbidding, and in his steely eyes lay something that made one stumble. It seemed even the darkness at his feet bowed in deference, parting as he approached.

Y/N had heard more than once the rumors of a man capable of rending steel with a single gesture—a power they called “Rashōmon.” Though fear seared her heart, she could neither flee nor call for help: her legs throbbed with fatigue, her mind reeled. Suddenly, his voice—cold, yet laced with a peculiar firmness—broke the silence:

“Stand up.”

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/N somehow pushed herself to her feet. The world turned gray before her eyes, and she felt on the brink of sliding into oblivion. But then Akutagawa’s strong hand steadied her—surprisingly gentle for one with such an austere demeanor. Lifting her gaze, she glimpsed a fleeting compassion beneath his harsh scowl.

“Why do you wander alone?” he asked curtly.

Y/N found she had no strength left to hide the anguish gnawing at her soul. In a voice hardly above a whisper, she murmured:

“I’m looking for my family… We were separated in this maze of buildings, and I have no idea where they’ve gone.”

A pause followed, broken only by the distant rumble of cars. Then Akutagawa gave a short nod and led her away from that dismal alley. He offered no explanation, and she, too weary to question him, simply went along.

Thus began a series of days filled with a curious new routine. The stranger took Y/N to one of the underground hideouts under the Port Mafia’s control—a formidable organization that held the entire city in the finest threads of its influence. Instead of turning her away, he arranged a small room for her temporary shelter. Though the air remained tense and the city kept thundering on with its unrelenting cruelty, Y/N felt a shy conviction that her path to reuniting with her family was only just beginning.

At first glance, the room seemed thoroughly unremarkable: a narrow bed, a single lamp whose light was already dimming, and a small window facing a deaf wall of brick. Yet to Y/N, its modest simplicity felt like a true sanctuary, a place where she could rest her soul and feel safe. Here, she found a foothold to keep from losing herself in Yokohama’s boundless whirlpool.

Akutagawa, without lengthy explanations, gave her something akin to a quiet job: carrying messages, delivering small parcels, handling bits of correspondence—tasks that posed little danger compared to what other members of the Port Mafia dared to do.

Each morning, Y/N woke determined to prove her loyalty to him and, at the same time, glean any scrap of information about her missing family. At first, Akutagawa remained distant, as though he had built a tall wall around himself. His speech was characterized by short, abrupt phrases, spoken softly yet commanding absolute respect.

And yet he had a curious tendency: whenever Y/N tried to speak, he would listen with unexpected attentiveness. He might not always reply, but he never cut her off rudely nor belittled her sorrow or her dreams.

Sometimes she would recall her mother’s gentle smile and her father’s kindly laughter, telling Akutagawa of family evenings brimming with warmth and joy. He would stand by the window, hands clasped, silent. Yet the very next day, he might suddenly point her to a new address or give her the name of someone who might know more about her missing relatives.

In this way, a growing sense of gratitude took root in Y/N’s heart—gratitude toward her taciturn yet unexpectedly considerate guardian. Though many challenges still loomed, she was beginning to believe that the road toward reuniting her family would surely reveal itself.

The Port Mafia was notorious for its dark dealings, but Akutagawa never turned that fact against Y/N, unwittingly showing a measure of trust. Perhaps it stirred an old memory of his own orphaned past, when he and his younger sister roamed these merciless streets. Whenever local troublemakers got wind of her errands, he would appear like a silent sentinel, and the icy glint in his steel-gray eyes often sent villains running.

Merely mentioning his name was enough to make wrongdoers retreat. More than once, Y/N found herself protected by the uncanny veil of Rashōmon—a shadowy presence, swift to deflect any attack. Yet she stayed close to him not just from fear: within his reserve, she sensed some hidden wound. At times, passing by his room late at night, she would inadvertently hear hushed murmurs, as if he were torn by some private anguish. In those moments, she wished she could offer him the same solace he had once given her.

A subtle understanding gradually grew between them. Akutagawa remained firm and aloof, as though he had been carved from dark stone, yet somewhere deep in his nature there was room for her presence. And Y/N, for her part, found herself less inclined to see him as the Port Mafia’s fearsome hound, and instead more like an older brother figure whose silent compassion spoke louder than any words.

[littlenightmares2]

continually pointing towards the harm that six and mono inflict upon the monsters within the little nightmares universe as evidence of their moral ambiguity (or lack thereof) is an inherently flawed manner of exploring their characters and values.

killing the monsters is a means of survival. neither of them actively seek out confrontation- each one of the entities relentlessly pursue the children with the intention of harming them in some way or another. the brutality of how the children manage to dispatch the monsters doesn’t matter either.

slicing off the janitor’s arms or lighting the doctor on fire are not actions that can (or should) have morality attached to them. every interaction six and mono have with the cast of antagonists is a largely cut and dry case of ‘kill or be killed.’

we know that everything in the nowhere exists with a purpose. there is a distinct emphasis placed upon this by people who have worked on the game. (for example, “the maw exists because hunger exists, and the pale city exists because the need for escapism exists.”) each monster plays some kind of role within the maw or pale city that is critical to perpetuating the cycle that the realm encapsulates. beyond this, they are harmful, unreasonable and actively malicious. their lack of humanity and inability to be appealed to is something else the developers have confirmed.

the only way to judge six and mono as characters with any degree of fairness is by examining the interactions they have with other unfortunate children. even this perspective has to be heavily scrutinised and take into account the abnormality of their circumstances. we have to continuously reframe the picture to ensure we are empathising with the fact that their circumstances will cause their emotional reactions to be distorted by trauma.

mono met one other child during his journey- six. he reached out his hand from the very moment they first met. over and over again, he extended kindness, compassion, a gentle disposition, active concern for her, and active desire for her company.

six met mono before she set foot on the maw. from the jump, her reaction to mono’s presence appears to be one of apprehension to say the very least. she turns away from his attempt to reach out and runs ahead. while understandable, this is already very telling of the differences in their characters. trusting and open, distrustful and avoidant.

over the course of the story, we see glimpses of compassion and a desire for company begin to manifest in six too.

she opens up to the idea of working together upon realising there are things she can’t do alone. she is the one to initiate handholding when the two of them are creeping through the tall grass around the hunter. she gestures to mono to be quiet and crouch down when they’re first sneaking past him.

when mono saves her from the bullies, he approaches her. it seems he wished to help her up, or offer some kind of comfort or reassurance. six almost seems to turn away from the offer and rebuff it somewhat. again, she isn’t being faulted for this at all- she has just been through trauma. but to me, it suggests that at this point in the story, mono is still being kept at an arms’ length.

one of the most notable shifts for her character is when the thin man breaks free from the screen. mono is pressing himself against the television, and she is lingering for him in a way she never had before, to the degree that it actively endangers her to do so. she stays beside him, she reaches out to him, she desperately urges him to follow her in fleeing- and she only begins to run away at all once the danger is no longer escapable if she remains.

then, of course, we have everything that transpires with monster six, which i believe undoes all the work she has done emotionally that allowed her to trust and care for mono as closely we she did. no matter your interpretation of why she did it, what she did to mono remains the same. she knowingly and deliberately dropped him to his death, and she did not look back. nothing implies remorse in that specific moment.

when we next see her, after the events of the pale city, she is in the maw. six has no interest in helping other children. she pulls on cages with other prisoners inside to climb and access higher places. (i’m not going to confuse outright inaction with six’s purposeful choices, because we don’t know her thought process, so i won’t get into the logistics of her not waking the children in roger’s room or helping children seen caged around the maw). she can hug the nomes if we so choose, but embracing every one of them results in an achievement that stipulates “kindness will be [her] undoing.” she also ends up sinking her teeth into one to sate her hunger. another necessary act, born of survival, but to a degree it shows an empathetic disconnect for another vulnerable creature all the same.

at her core, six values survivalism, self-sufficiency, independence and pushing through trauma. mono, in direct contrast, appears to engage in a degree of dependency with her, and seeks out companionship and support where his counterpart would just as rather go it alone.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 3

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ���ᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 | 2 | 3 here | 4

When he saves your life

[Reader] stood in the dining hall, unsure of what to do. Apparently, King Katsuki had no desire to see her. She shared the sentiment. The relief she felt when he disappeared from her sight was immense.

— Come with us, dear, we’ll get you into something dry — Ochako encouraged her.

Featherduster eyed the girl’s thin clothes with concern. Water dripped from them in heavy droplets. Snow melted in the warmth of the nearby fireplace.

And so the objects paraded through the palace as a company. The only human trudged at the very back to avoid blocking their way with her height. Most of the enormous glass windows were hidden under thick curtains. Through a few, though, one could glimpse the dark sky. The storm had passed. The world was covered in white, shimmering under the moonlight.

[Reader] passed many doors. At first, she tried to memorize the path but she lost track after the seventh turn.

She studied the walls until she noticed what exactly felt off. Just like in the dining hall…

— The portraits are missing — she remarked to the staff.

— Everything that depicts people — Kirishima clarified.

He twisted his clock hands toward where statues must have once stood. Plenty of empty columns and bases remained.

— Our lord is very…— He hesitated. — How to put it… He has…

— A defect! — Denki finished proudly.

— Stop it, or he’ll hear you! — Gentle scolded him.

— And we wouldn’t want that. Oh no! — added La Brava.

— He’s just irritated by the sight of something he’s lost — Ochako concluded quietly.

[Reader] couldn’t help but notice how somber they all grew at this statement. After all, they suffered just as much as their king. It had to be cruel.

Her gaze fell on a landscape featuring a massive red dragon and a white stallion. They seemed to be fighting, though it made little sense. How could they possibly face each other? The lack of a rider stood out. The painting felt out of place compared to the others. It reminded her of what she’d left behind in the courtyard.

— My horse! — she stopped abruptly.

— We’ve taken it to the stables — the clock assured her.

[Reader] didn’t know how they’d managed it but she figured she should stop being surprised by the things around her. The mere fact that she stood alive and in one piece was a miracle. She still didn’t completely trust anyone but she had no choice but to follow her guides up the stairs.

By the time they reached the final floor, her boots were covered in dust. Thick, red carpets begged for a proper beating. The ornate wooden balustrades needed cleaning too. She sneezed the moment she touched one.

— This is my old room — Ochako headed toward a door. — I lived next to the queen so I could serve her. It was a great honour. I liked being a maid. If only Her Majesty hadn’t died…— Her voice grew sad.

Everything might have turned out differently, she thought to herself. After the queen’s death, no one could tame the prince. The king had never ruled with a strong hand. His wife had always handled difficult matters, including raising a rebellious son. His Majesty left the world of the living just weeks after her funeral. It was suspected he fell ill from grief over losing his beloved Mitsuki.

Young Bakugō didn’t show sorrow. He took the reins of the kingdom as expected. Yet the smile vanished from his face. Everywhere he went, he wore a mask of indifference. Truthfully, he cared about nothing except combat — the one thing he excelled at in life. He never had the chance to learn compassion or humility. All the values he placed on a pedestal were somehow tied to strength. He became an orphan far too young. And he could have accomplished so much — together with Midoriya. If not for him, Izuku might still be alive.

— Make yourself at home. — Featherduster wagged her tail. — It’s a bit dusty but I’ll tidy it up. You can sleep here. There should be something in the wardrobe. Her Majesty’s gowns are in better condition but we’re not allowed to touch them.

The chamber in question was sacred and untouchable. No one had the right to disturb anything there. Everything remained exactly as it had been on the day Mitsuki passed away. The enchanted objects believed Katsuki coped with her loss this way, though he didn’t want to show it.

The chandelier flared brighter than before and lit the wood in the fireplace. Flickering tongues of flame slowly consumed the logs, lighting up the room. It was nothing special — a bed, a chest, a table and chairs. The only interesting feature was a small balcony overlooking the back of the palace, offering a view of the forest.

— Should I introduce myself? — [Reader] asked.

— To whom? — came a chorus of voices.

— The wardrobe… or Lady Wardrobe? You know…— She stood before the ornate piece of furniture.

— Only we are cursed — the teapot gurgled.

— The rest are just ordinary objects — added the teacup helpfully.

The longer she listened, the more she understood that they were a duo. They went everywhere together and always finished each other’s sentences. However, they didn’t look like a matching set. The sharp red didn’t pair well with the dark purple.

— Cursed? Does that mean you can be uncursed? — the new servant asked with interest.

She received a series of unintelligible murmurs in response. The staff gathered in a circle and started a discussion. She tried eavesdropping but to no avail.

— We won’t answer that question — they finally declared in unison.

They didn’t want to lose their chance to break the spell. The feeling had to be genuine. If their hope knew the truth, it might lead to love out of pity — or worse, out of obligation. Of course, it could turn out differently but for now, they wouldn’t utter a word.

Ochako managed to deal with most of the dust and pulled a dress out of the wardrobe.

— Don’t you have any pants? — The girl took the black fabric in her hand.

A maid’s uniform. She should have expected that. It came with a white apron and decorative bows. The idea of wearing it every day didn’t appeal to her.

— Unfortunately not. Perhaps in the king’s chamber but I’d rather not ask…

— Let me help with the cloak — Denki enthusiastically waved his candles.

But he forgot to extinguish one of the wicks. The garment caught fire in an instant. Extinguishing the small blaze angered everyone. They shouted and stomped on what they could.

— My sister made this for me. — [Reader] inspected the burnt edge angrily.

Eri was a world away from here. Yet she still felt her presence in this gift. She’d collected bits of colourful threads for her sister to embroider the pattern. The multicoloured flowers seemed to dance on the gray background. She loved them far more than the expensive dresses Overhaul had made her wear.

— We’ll fix it! Like real men! — Kirishima announced. — And you should get changed.

Everyone obediently left the room, leaving the girl alone for the first time that strange day.

Reluctantly, she changed into the odd outfit. While waiting for further developments, she decided to inspect the small room. All she found were lots of sheets, a few decorative dresses moth-eaten and worn and some trinkets. The most interesting find was a hidden portrait of a young boy with extraordinary green hair. Somehow, it had survived the purge of artwork in the palace and avoided the sad fate of other pieces.

She decided not to ask. There had to be a reason someone had gone to such lengths to wrap it in rags, pack it in a box and hide it.

At some point, whispers reached her ears. She approached the door and pressed her ear against it.

—…sharpen the knives. It has to be delicious. And His Majesty likes his meat bloody…— The sentence was cut.

But she didn’t intend to find out what came next. It sounded very clear. She was playing the main course. Surely, they thought that if they behaved normally, she wouldn’t notice. There was no way, after everything she’d been through, that she’d let herself get eaten in some remote palace. Years spent in the orphanage had taught her to keep a cool head. She looked out from the balcony. She was three floors from the ground. Too high to jump but just right for a rope descent. She didn’t have one but she could make one. She began skillfully tying strips of fabric together. She threw them over the railing. She’d never climbed down from such a height before but there was a first time for everything.

She barricaded the door with a chair, hoping the makeshift construction would hold for at least a moment.

She took the first step. She avoided looking down — it was always a trap. Step by step, she descended. The cold wind tugged at her short outfit. Her hair blew wildly, obscuring her vision. She tried to move as fast as possible, swaying left and right. Blood rushed in her ears. Several times, she slipped, momentarily losing her grip. She was halfway down when she heard a shout.

— [Reader], what are you doing? — Featherduster had evidently overcome the makeshift barricade.

She sped up, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline. Only a few meters remained. Below, part of the staff awaited her, while others peered down from above. But she knew they couldn’t stop her. At most, they’d splash her with tea.

Then, suddenly, she felt the rope elongate. The fabric of the moth-eaten old dress couldn’t handle the tension and tore away from its colourful neighbour. The girl grabbed at a protruding sandstone block.

— Damn it! — Her hand began to slip.

Then she fell. Someone caught her. Strong, heavy hands kept her upright. Her hands were scraped from sliding on the stone and she cradled them to herself. Her hair was all over her face and her ribs heaved in and out as she tried to catch her breath. Her weight shifted forward. She didn’t mean to lean against him but her legs felt like jelly. Then came the most unexpected sound.

— You idiot! — came a deep growl.

She didn’t want to believe it but it had to be him. She glanced up hesitantly. He looked different than before. His hair was untamed. His broad shoulders trembled under his heavy fur coat. But the familiar, piercing gaze was there. The corners of his mouth curled down.

He was furious.

She lifted her eyelids. Only a few centimeters separated her face from the beast’s snout. Hairy, bristly arms had caught her just in time.

— Let go of me! — she shouted, struggling to free herself.

— Be my guest — the king mocked.

She tumbled to the ground, landing in a snowdrift. Her short dress instantly soaked through and wet hair clung to her face. It felt as though her tailbone had been ripped out. She was sure she’d bruised herself badly.

— I hope you'll choke on my bones! — she snapped, pulling a knife from her boot.

It wasn’t much but she wasn’t about to let herself be eaten without a fight.

Katsuki growled, ready to strike.

—Wait, no! — his subjects cried, clutching at his legs.

— No one wants to eat you, [Reader]! — Ochako exclaimed, clearly horrified by the notion. — It’s all our fault, Your Highness! We were preparing dinner and Denki said a few poorly chosen words, and then...

She didn’t need to finish. Everyone was processing the situation. An awkward silence fell as they all tried to grasp what had just happened.

The girl felt terrible. Sure, she was here against her will but her new companions had shown her kindness and hospitality. And besides, Bakugō could have simply let her fall to her death — but he hadn’t. He’d saved her life.

She hated doing it but she forced herself to say it.

— Thank you. And I’m sorry. — She extended her hand.

The king looked at the hand before him. Much smaller than his own, far more delicate. He could have crushed it if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to admit how much his new servant impressed him. Sure, he was angry that she had tried to escape — but what a way to do it! And then, at the very end, she’d still had the nerve to draw a weapon, despite knowing she couldn’t win.

She didn’t wield a sword. She couldn’t possibly match him — neither when he was young nor now. It was a different kind of strength than the one he knew.

It made him feel strange. Was that... admiration? A feeling he hadn’t experienced in so long he’d forgotten it existed?

She did everything differently. Strangely. Just like someone else he tried so hard to forget.

He shook his head lightly, driving away those thoughts. A sly smile spread across his face as he spat on his furry paw. He fully expected her to recoil in disgust.

But to his surprise, [Reader] did the same, clasping his hand firmly.

— That’s highly unrefined — the clock remarked.

— Gross — added the chandelier.

— Don’t try that again — Bakugō growled. — Next time, I’ll let you fall. As punishment, you’ll clean the garden.

With that, he turned and left.

She didn’t care. She had plenty of places to tidy already. One more wouldn’t make a difference. She sneezed loudly. She was soaked to the bone, just as Ochako had feared. She needed to warm up, or she’d spend her first day of work bedridden with a cold.

— Tea time, right, Gentle?

— Indeed, La Brava.

[neixins]

hi jana! mix and match for jaeha, gija, OR yona  - 2, 7, 9, 12, 21, and 26!

hiii cor <3 ngl i barely resisted the urge to answer each question for all three of them but i must mix and match lest my limp little wrists suffer the consequences

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

jaeha: his slutty little crop top <3 kiddiiiing~ while that crop top does make me want to do things to him that i cannot utter in polite society, my favorite thing about him is actually how, despite his audacious and often flippant behavior, he just can’t hide how much he cares about the others. the hot springs chapter is my favorite example of this, obviously (he can complain about gija being troublesome all he wants but literally nobody asked him to fuss over him the entire time, that was all his own doing teehee) but there’s so many instances like that. also he’s a beautiful and strange bisexual man and how am i supposed to resist his charms

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

gija: i love when people manage to really capture his earnestness without infantilizing him in the process (as fandoms in general are wont to do whenever a character is very sincere). also i really appreciate when people actually focus on his interiority instead of just relegating him to Cute Silly Guy Who’s Just Kind Of There because the glimpses we get into his emotions and how his mind works are so interesting.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

yona: ignoring the fact that i’d probably explode if i had to share an apartment with anyone, i feel like yona would be a great roommate. she’s kind and good at communicating so i feel like we could work something out

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

jaeha: i’ve mentioned this before and it’ll become blatantly obvious once i post my fic, but i think jaeha’s really into poetry. he’s spent a lot of time around courtesans, enough to pick up at least two instruments, so him being well-versed in poetry just makes a lot of sense to me. i think he’d be especially fond of zi ye, bai juyi, and yuan zhen <3 (is he a yuanbai enthusiast? much to ponder. i think bai juyi's offering text to yuan zhen definitely made him shed some tears. alas, alas, weizhi!)

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

gija: oh i love writing gija so much!! he’s so sincere and excitable and generally quite upfront about his feelings, which makes him such a delight to write, especially when paired with jaeha <3 i’m also very interested in exploring the conflict between desire and duty when it comes to him; his own desires often overlap with what’s expected of him but that makes the moments where they don’t all the more juicy (the most obvious example being the expectation to marry vs his clear lack of attraction to women) because like yeah he cares about filial piety but he’s also incredibly stubborn and unwilling to do anything he doesn’t agree with. as for something i don't like...hmm.... i sometimes struggle to replicate his way of speaking; it's very charming but also very specific and therefore easy to fuck up. also writing about how much he admires his father always breaks my heart. it's such an important aspect of his character but it does make me go noooo sweetie he fucking sucks </3

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

yona: she has so so so many fantastic moments how am i to choose !!!! the two that immediately come to mind are ch 108, both the dream conversation she has with sinha and when she confronts the ghost possessing him, both of which really showcase her compassion (also i just love the blue forest mini arc so much!! i’m always thinking about it so ofc that was one of the first moments i thought of); and the moment when she defends riri in ch 112 which perfectly parallels hak protecting her and zeno in ch 90 which in turn also illustrates the notion of her learning to be strong because of hak. also honestly the more people hate on yona for choosing to live on earth even if it means losing the gods’ protection (which as i’ve already mentioned, isn’t even working that well), the more i love that moment. especially because su-won and zeno both get praised for believing in human resilience and the power of community—and rightfully so—but when yona expresses the same sentiment she’s a selfish brat….how funny…........they could never make me hate u babygirl

[huyaoxiaozi]

@monsterxmade | PLOTTED STARTER.

Zane had learned things the hard way while on the run — things like minding his own business, avoiding eye contact, and keeping to himself. There were only so many times he could hurt someone to illustrate that he was not to be fucked with before he'd be at the risk of getting in fights nearly every damn day.

People out here didn't have much to lose and they were hurting, they were angry. Many were clearly itching to take that anger and pain out on anyone and anything they could. A lot like him — but with a great deal less self control and care, but ... people did terrible things when they were desperate and hurting. Zane would know, after all.

However, any compassion he might've had vanished when he caught wind of an altercation between a man and a girl more than half his age. She couldn't have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen and, while she certainly reacted like a cornered animal — gnashing teeth and claws — she was just a kid. Roughly the same age as my youngest cousin, he thought, which elicited a painful twinge in his chest.

❝Hey,❞ he managed to raise his voice despite the pain in his throat, but the serrated burn added something ragged and vicious to it — or perhaps that was the result of the older man pulling a fucking knife on a fourteen year old. Zane was on his feet in moments and as soon as he was close enough to reach, his hand shot out to grip the man's wrist. He wrenched it hard to the left, forcing the man to drop the knife with a pained grunt. The healing gashes on his palms were still tender, but he ignored it. Zane then gave his shoulders a rough, hard shove with both hands. The man staggered backward and he advanced a step, placing himself in front of the girl.

❝Back off. She's just a kid man, what the fuck is wrong with you? ❞ Zane was lucky to be taller, a little broader — and maybe his rough voice added to his attempt to intimidate, because in the end, the man didn't put up much of a fight. He just wanted his knife back, which Zane could sympathize with. It was a foldable pocket knife, so he reached down to grab it and tuck the blade away. However, as he handed it back to him, he added, ❝If I see you pulling this on someone without a damn good reason, I'll break your fucking wrist next time.❞

Zane let his eyes briefly flutter closed once the man was gone and he swallowed thickly, his throat burning from nothing other than projecting his voice. He couldn't help but wonder, would it always be this painful? A quiet, wavering sigh escaped him before he turned to face the girl. His dark eyes swept over her, seeking any glimpse of injury. ❝You alright? ❞ His voice was quiet now, gentler, more hoarse sounding than the intimidating rasp of it moments before. His accent wasn't heavy, but it was certainly noticeable — muddled with Chinatown's mix of Mandarin, Cantonese and English speakers.

❝You're all alone out here? ❞ He asked, casting a glance around them, but there was no sign of anyone who might be connected to her that he could see.