#he seems so imposing and serious in the main story

[yandere-daydreams]

For the ace/yuu/malleus love triangle theory imagine how jealous ace will feel after finding out that yuu danced with malleus and DEUCE lmao

he wasn't allowed to be in the masquerade event because it would have literally killed him. just absolutely put him in the ground. first Malleus and Yuu essentially just go on a date in a scenic campus wearing fancy clothes. okay, nothing he can compete with, but nothing out of the norm, either. then, there's a crisis and some weirdo with a bowl-cut threatens to kill you all. still not totally out of the ordinary, but it somehow ties into Malleus hyper-specific personal trauma which is a little unfair but not that weird considering how stuff tends to go down in this game. then, it somehow devolves into a party again and Malleus not only dances with Yuu, but also performs an entire pre-rehearsed song with romantic subtext before pulling you into a walz, which he knows how to do because he's literally a prince. how is Ace, a chronic Normal Dude, supposed to compete with that. what is he supposed to do. the Deuce thing almost seems like a blessing in disguise because at least you're still, like, touching other guys. he wouldn't be if he was in your situation but he's glad that you are.

[bestworstcase]

Your thoughts about Remnant's kingdoms having imperialistic and expansionist tendencies that don't have anything to do with Salem or Ozma makes me wonder, at least based on what I vaguely remember of the game RWBY Arrowfell:

In Arrowfell, we learn about the existence of ruins outside of Atlas and Mantle with ancient historical artifacts, and that makes me question if Solitas really as empty as it seemed, or was there already indigenous people living there before the displaced settlers of whatever regions of Sanus showed up on their doorstep? Did THEY get destroyed by those settlers?

Did those people live alongside Solitas' Grimm with no issue, and shit only went down AFTER the emotionally repressed imperialists of Sanus came in and wiped out whatever culture they had, imposing their own "Grimm evil emotions bad must repress and subjugate" nonsense onto a culture that might have already figured out a better solution?

I keep thinking about this because of how the settlers of the local settlements there within the game have vastly different appearances, and strongly implied different cultures compared to the likes of Mantle and Atlas.

tumak!

i rotate those ruins in my mind a lot, because the only thing we really know about them is that they predate the great war and they’re a formally-designated “heritage site.” vine talks about artifacts taken from the site as though they’re very ancient, but his statements are framed pretty overtly as bullshit—he comes across more as a new age mumbo jumbo type of hobbyist than someone serious about history. older than the great war just means that the ruins are at least a century old.

so there’s definitely a layer here of atlas—which has probably not been around much longer than a century or two—culturally not having a very accurate sense of historical scale (a la US americans thinking anything older than a century or two is ‘ancient’) and exoticizing The Past. whereas beacon’s professor of history teaches teaches the great war and its aftermath as recent history, because vale is much older.

that said, tumak does look like it’s a few centuries old, because it’s all built of stone. in any other story i’d take it as a given that the people living there were conquered or displaced by mantelian settlers for… the same reasons i take it as a given that mistral being called an “empire” and having “territories” means what it sounds like.

what gives me pause with regard to tumak and mantle is—well, two things:

there were no grimm in western solitas when mantle’s first settlers arrived.

it’s heavily implied that the global industrial revolution began in mantle following the discovery of large dust deposits under the tundra.

now, the one thing we know for certain about grimm is that they eat people and they die in captivity, meaning that they do need to eat. the simplest explanation for there being no grimm in western solitas when the mantelian settlers turned up is that there weren’t any people there for grimm to eat.

the second point matters matters because the industrial revolution is a prerequisite for building anything with steel: before this confluence between practical necessity and a great abundance of underground dust deposits, every large structure on remnant would have been built with timber or stone or clay, or whatever material happened to be abundant in a given region.

(i am making a drastic oversimplification here but, in essence, the main reason we had our industrial revolution when and where we did is england ran out of trees and started digging for coal. coal mines have a lot of coal on site, making coal-powered machines a more cost-effective way to pump water out of deep shafts than manual labor, and then after a certain point these pumps become very efficient and it becomes cost-effective to employ mechanized rotational movement further away from the coal mines, and then you get automated spinning jennies and trains and it all snowballs from there. whether it’s on purpose or not, remnant’s industrial revolution occurred under precisely similar conditions and i think that’s neat.)

one presumes that mantelian settlers didn’t go from living in natural caves or snow shelters to steel-frame construction overnight. the technological innovation needed to build with steel in subzero temperatures would have been a long, iterative process. both tumak and the “ancient monument” built in the same architectural style are also situated on the continent’s western coast, while mantle is at least a few hundred miles inland (although it’s difficult to get an accurate sense of scale from the game map). if i’m right that these settlers were displaced from northeast sanus by valean expansion, the west coast of solitas is where they would have landed.

we also know that mantle itself is built on top of what seems to be an enormous dust mine.

in the WOR episode, the early settlement is represented like this, with people keeping watch over coastal cliffs and grimm being frozen solid by the cold:

the amity arena ice sabyr card indicates that the ice-encrusted solitan grimm adapted to the cold fairly quickly:

These Sabyrs seem to have somehow adapted to Mantle's environment. Gone are the days when the cold kept the Grimm at bay, and now we deal with the ice crusted versions of the Sabyr. Still, there is a burning question in our minds. Didn't these Sabyr… adjust a little too quickly?

(which, lol. it’s dust. solitan grimm incorporate dust into their bodies to give themselves a protective coating against the cold; we’ve seen the geist in the mine use dust to armor itself against attack. a lot of the amity arena grimm cards are fun; the one for seers is literally like “they’re super weird, we have no idea what they do because we’ve only ever found broken husks, but they’re floating crystal balls with tentacles so we assume they must be able to control people. probably.” grimm studies is pseudoscience!)

and then back to the WOR episode, the depicted distance between mantle and alsius is wildly exaggerated:

with mantle located on the southwestern peninsula and alsius being where mantle stands—or stood—in the present day. before playing arrowfell, i always took that to be just a stylistic choice to emphasize the economic separation between mantle and alsius, but:

again, nothing is to scale here, but mantle and the atlesian crater are in the right place, there’s an abandoned dust mine on that southwest peninsula, an outpost with a train on the western island, and tumak and the other ruin along the west coast. so the relocation depicted in the WOR episode—a migration inward from the coastal region to where mantle is today—actually seems to have been literal.

what makes the most sense to me is that these coastal ruins were built by the original settlers a few hundred years ago. both tumak and the “monument” are mainly underground, with these barrow-like stone caps over the entrances: this strikes me as a solidly defensible layout for fending off weakened, scattered packs of grimm, but not one that could withstand the increasing numbers of cold-hardy grimm as time went on.

in the SDC WOR episode, it’s noted that mantle’s existing dust mines were nearly depleted before nicholas schnee discovered new deposits in the mountains to the north. and in arrowfell, if memory serves, the old southwest mine was exhausted and abandoned long ago. taking this to its logical conclusion, the people living in tumak and other coastal settlements had to deal with a relatively fast spike in grimm populations at a time when dust was already becoming scarce, so they abandoned these sites and migrated to a more defensible area—the plain flanked by mountains—where they serendipitously found much larger and deeper dust deposits. and that became mantle and alsius/atlas.

meanwhile, over on the eastern side of the continent…

the geographic separation here is pretty striking! in between mantle and the free towns to the east we have a large inland sea and mountains. these towns are explicitly not part of the kingdom and, as you noted, have a pretty different culture. (including cultural attitudes toward the grimm: a huge megoliath wanders into essen early in the game and the townspeople just… clear out of the immediate area and keep an eye on it from afar, which is probably also how the unnamed village in v4 dealt with that geist. there is also a lady from dormir who goes into GRIMM-INFESTED CAVES, alone, to dig up dust. nothing bad happens to her.)

tellingly, bram thornmane seems to view these free towns as independent polities for the purpose of fueling his persecution complex by treating his residence in essen like a quasi-exile from atlas, but when it’s politically expedient to do so he acts as though these are satellite communities dependent on atlesian protection, hence his use of the grimm lures to attack them as well as atlas and mantle. i imagine that this is a common atlesian attitude.

one of the villagers—cerise claire, who fled from crossed to essen when the former was overwhelmed as a consequence of thornmane’s scheme—mentions having ancestors who fought during the great war; specifically she implies that her ancestors were involved in resistance to the mantelian regime’s prohibition against art and self-expression. the free towns don’t seem to be particularly young—wood and stone, again suggesting pre-industrial construction—so they must have existed before the war.

cerise is also a faunus (i think; it’s hard to tell if the wolfish ears are attached to her head or just to her hood and they’re not the same color as her hair, but they’re a prominent feature of her design and why do that if she’s not meant to be faunus) which certainly. carries a lot of unspoken weight in the remarks she makes about her ancestor bravely keeping a journal of their years fighting in the great war… and if her family lived in crossed back then, well.

gestures at vacuo’s side of the great war being a desperate bid for independence. gestures at the implication that the vytal accords were in large part a decolonial project; vacuo and menagerie became sovereign states, and a huge swath of eastern anima seems to have been freed from mistrali rule.

mantle and mistral formed an alliance during the conquest of northern anima; if if the towns in eastern solitas are older than the great war—which is quite plausible!—then they likely existed during this period of time and it seems reasonable to think that they might have been occupied as well, if not by mantle then by mistral. eastern solitas being under occupation prior to the war and liberated by the accords thanks in part to the efforts of a local rebellion tracks.

but an interesting thought occurs to me: this means the quasi-scientific modern narrative that the grimm “adapted” to the cold unnaturally fast might be baseless. there would have been cold-hardy grimm living east of the mountains already. perhaps the intense hardship and struggle of those early years simply drew an existing population of grimm over the mountains?

[boyfridged]

if you got complete control over DC and got to write a Jason solo comic, how would you go about it? or like what would be the story??

you're indulging me!

well, my first preference would probably be writing a jason-never-died elseworld and this is what i'm doing with my series robin vol 2. or something like 80s retroactive but longer, so essentially a robin jay series that we were robbed of.

but i'm presuming you are asking about what i would do with the main timeline... i guess if you've been following me for a while, nothing on this list will come as a surprise, because it's simply a combination of my own meta dressed in plot points... i'm just not sure how i would organise it, since i mostly think about these in terms of fanfiction, so it's a bit fragmented in my head. but i think it would be doable to combine those:

addressing the current mess in canon: unavoidable. i always imagined (and by always i mean i've had that image in my head for at least 5 years now) if i were to write a comicbook script for jay i would start with the classic simple layout showcasing the more sunny (early days robin jay's) version of gotham but with panels shaped like shattered glass imposing on it, displaying different contradicting pieces of canon and culminating with the question of who *the real* jason todd is, as a nod to countdown asking the same. dc actually attempted to do something like that when the infinite frontier was first introduced, it just wasn't very well executed... (btw. and as far as i know the hypertime is still supposed to be relevant so it would work...)

since i already started talking about countdown it could also contain some multiversal insight into all the other worlds in which jason todd is alive.

or maybe an idea i once dropped here, with the mystical serpentine of magical fog (the one from the lost days and the end of the utrh when jason presumably is brought back to life once again) traveling through the scenes of flashbacks of other characters (perhaps even just a reflections of retcons!) tarnishing jason's memory when he's dead, cut to kid jay literally stirring in the coffin, and finally an adult jason waking up with a jolt in the final scene. so many options.

you get the image. i wish that dc utilised the weirdness of the meta in a serious way, and that the talk of the past was a talk of the history of comics in a sense... as i previously expressed here.

as you all know by now my reading of jason (and batman in general even) is mostly based on the 80s... and so it would be a love letter to this era. i would definitely want to include some robin jay stories there as well, maybe make jason investigate cases that date back to his childhood and are somehow interconnected, creating a bridge between the narratives and reconciling them.

ending what i call the long funeral - jason's era of remaining dead both socially and to the narrative. what i have in mind is an arc in which he is working on a case that seems to have to do with magic/ghosts, but that ultimately turns out to be a case of corruption and plain police brutality. two things here: i would want him to fuck up spectacularly so that he starts questioning his modus operandi and dedication to vigilantism in general. and it would set up the ground for the introduction of abolitionism and link the story to his early ethical framework.

a retirement arc. jason's proper come back to the crime alley and reintroduction to the land of living (the alley might be a graveyard to bruce but it's a home to jason...) and very importantly, a cast of civilians! leslie is definitely back. i would also love to use dana & denise, and maybe even some pre-crisis characters.

i would fridge bruce. put him out of commission basically, death or not. and i'm not saying batman jay era but actually i am saying batman jay era. (i once again can't find a link to the post explaining my bat jay agenda but if it's of your interest i can elaborate.)

a two-face story. about forgiveness or rather about the fact that it never quite passed. and about willis.

the themes... the motifs... you know me. ouroboros and self-mythologization and the sacrifice and catholicism (probably not in a way you think) and family duty. and politics. here you can also guess what i'm thinking about, and it's a revolutionary abolitionist turn.

and to conclude: big words but i would use jason to bring love back to the gotham lore and batman titles in general. he is a character that has always stood in the centre of both values and challenges that the story faced. if he's not treated with consideration and not taken seriously, nothing in it is.

[akiyamastar]

Hi guys, I am back on the Chiaki tag. Yes, I'm analyzing him again and sort of picking up on a point I mentioned in my last post.

I think there's an interesting divide in how Chiaki acts in front of the other Yumenosaki graduates versus the rest of Ryuseitai (yes, even Kanata). He has this serious, no-nonsense personality that he tends to conceal in front of Ryuseitai, because he needs to act like "Ryusei Red," but this other side leaks out more in front of the other graduates. You can see this clearly in stories where he isn't interacting with his unit.

Chiaki's more complex than people make him out to be, especially if they don't know a lot about Ryuseitai and think he's some dense hero. In reality, he's an extremely perceptive person. This is a given, considering one of the main roles that he imposes upon himself is to read the emotions of the people he cares about, so even if he comes across as brash and pushy, there's this indirect sense of "I need to look over them and make sure they're all okay." His pushy, energetic personality disguises how he discreetly tries to read into situations with startling accuracy, defending the people he loves most.

In fact, he was so perceptive that he refused to let anything bad happen to Ryuseitai anymore after the events of Comet Show, thwarting Gatekeeper's move to try to alarm Madara of the false information that Kanata had been enshrined as a god again during Submarine.

Moreover, I'm of the opinion that Chiaki knew that he didn't do the best thing by reclaiming the leader role, but at the same time, the reason why he did so makes more sense in the context of the situation; he is trying to make Ryuseitai last at all costs, and he won't let the corruption of the idol industry take them down. While Chiaki does have a problem with taking things on his own, something that gets on Tetora's nerves and leads to that growing tension depicted in the prologue of the Universe story when he punches him, Chiaki's intentions were very much calculated. Chiaki is constantly reading the situation and emotions of the people around him to make the next optimal move that can help others.

While in front of Ryuseitai, he feels the need to be this "beacon of light," as symbolic as the blazing red sun that is the essence of his role as Ryusei Red, this facade is something that he is only keeping up because it's his "idealization" of himself. It is what he had originally wanted to become in Meteor Impact, and now that he finally has the power to become a hero in others' eyes, Chiaki partakes in this "fake it until you make it" act where he acts like a competent hero in front of the rest of Ryuseitai. It is to the point that his unitmates may admire him, but don't see his true self, marked with hidden insecurities of never being the main character of his own story. It is something that I really wish was explored more when Chiaki mentioned to Tetora how he wasn't that cool senior he tried to make himself seem to be. (Tetora and Chiaki's dynamic is so important to me if you haven't noticed by now.)

Essentially, Chiaki's personality is outwardly boisterous and passionate, channeling out his love for heroes and tokusatsu, but inwardly, he is extremely critical of how he enjoys such things. He also may seem like an unrealistic fool who views everything through the lens of tokusatsu, but he's also too realistic for his own good. He just thinks he'll seem like "no fun" if he shows that in front of Ryuseitai, but he does show his seriousness more around the other graduates.

I think an optimal example of Chiaki's more serious side was displayed in Shu's gacha event story centered on the graduates (Astraea's Atelier), specifically with how Leo and Chiaki interacted there.

Leo is generally a very playful and often unpredictable person, and you might initially think that this would go hand-in-hand with Chiaki's energetic personality. This isn't entirely a false assumption; in Red Hot Island (the water park gacha story) the two of them got along like two peas in a pod with their enthusiasm for the trip. (Their dynamic also goes so hard, btw.)

Nonetheless, there is a key difference between the two that shows a lot about Chiaki's character: while Leo tends to cope with problems by becoming increasingly more unpredictable and erratic in his personality, or isolating himself when he can no longer do so, Chiaki tends to shrink back and start showing cracks of his serious self when encountered with something grave, putting a halt to the energetic act rather than dialing it up.

This is why Chiaki is more likely to become suddenly realistic and even slightly irritable if people aren't taking things seriously when it matters most, which you can see when Chiaki sometimes shows a bit of annoyance for Leo's antics when they go too far in Astraea's Atelier, since he thinks that Leo isn't taking the situation of a stranger invading Shu's place in France seriously enough. Which is something I kind of love considering I wish we saw that side of him more.

Here are some examples of their interactions by the way (all translated by @/nia_narqissa on Twitter):

I recommend reading the story in all honesty since in general it reflects the graduates' friendships and how they interact with each other (and it's really funny).

I find it really interesting that Chiaki actually does seem almost hostile to Leo at some points in the story, something that might seem strange at first, but makes a lot of sense if you consider the fact that this aspect of his personality has always been a part of him; you could even conclude that it's very likely that he just swallows emotions like anger, but feels them just as much as anyone would.

In the end, however, the two do understand each other and I'm honestly really glad that they're interacting more in recent gacha stories.

I do hope to see more !! stories like this one where we see more of Chiaki's serious side since I think it's really interesting, and maybe even more on showing himself more to the rest of Ryuseitai because he is just human in the end. I think those are all my daily Chiaki thoughts for today. (I am very normal.)

[wordsandrobots]

It seems to have been a while since I posted an update on how the writing for the next part of Wishing on Space Hardware has been going (well, I complained three weeks ago that it wasn't, but that barely counts).

So, let's refer to the Super Accurate and 100% Serious Plan (TM). Bold represents chapters that currently have complete drafts.

Prologue: Hi, it's me, I am coming for your emotions.

Chapter 1: “Fuck my life, why am I the sensible one?”

Chapter 2: Discovering through adversity that you are in fact a spiteful arsehole.

Chapter 3: When you're well-adjusted and people won't shut up about their issues.

Chapter 4: How to turn grief and aimlessness into an international incident.

Interlude 1: More manga propaganda.

Chapter 5: Relatively normal person discovers sympathy for absolute lunatics.

Chapter 6: Manipulative bastard has meltdown; nukes career and/or starts war.

Chapter 7: Who wouldn't want to be head of state in the middle of all this?

Chapter 8: The world's most violent identity crisis.

Interlude 2: Accidentally featuring no canon characters whatsoever.

Chapter 9: When even your subconscious thinks you're a loser.

Chapter 10: Anger is not a stage, it is a permanent address.

Chapter 11: “Nobody is dying on my watch!” [Actionable threat]

Chapter 12: "Terrorism *is* a valid expression of my trauma, actually."

Interlude 3: Oh look – plot threads.

Chapter 13: Waking up to discover you work for the bad guys and deciding to fix that.

Chapter 14: Keeping going through the hardship, chaos, and narrative contrivance.

Chapter 15: Waking up to discover you work for the bad guys and failing to fix that.

Chapter 16: Ancillary character makes good, still doesn't get the boy.

Interlude 4: No, seriously, I mean it about putting literally everyone in this thing.

Chapter 17: Normal housewife deals well with additional lunatics.

Chapter 18: I swear I only invented this OC for exposition, now she's a key player.

Chapter 19: While valid, terrorism might not make everything better.

Chapter 20: Actual sensible one solves plot with quiet chat.

Epilogue 1: Pain and other assorted feelings.

Epilogue 2: The author reminds you he is, at heart, a total sap.

Epilogue 3: Hey, look, if you hit characters hard enough, they actually develop.

Epilogue 4: Take your victories where you can get them, folks.

Epilogue 5: What *do* you call the literary equivalent of a panning shot?

I just this morning finished Chapter 15 and I thought this was worth noting because it means the fic has officially passed the 100,000 word mark. In case you were wondering why it is taking me so long to complete, that's why. Chapters on this one are averaging 6000 words because SOMEONE made the daft decision to try and make each one a summation of a particular character and their role in the story so far.

We're probably looking at the whole thing coming in around 150,000 words total (bear in mind the interludes and epilogues will all be about half the chapter length). So while I am still hopeful I can finish it by the end of the year, I am increasingly unsure if I will start posting before then on account of editing and such.

My current plan is to spend the rest of this week polishing off Interlude 2 while I let the images for Chapter 16 percolate into an actual scene breakdown. After that chapter's done, I'll be in the home stretch as far as the main plot is concerned.

I must admit to not being especially happy to have slipped so far past my initial deadlines, despite knowing they were only loosely self-imposed to begin with. I really was trying to avoid leaving things on a cliffhanger for so many months. But such is life.

Anyhoo, that's where we are at the moment and hopefully things will continue to progress at the current fairly acceptable rate!

[tyrannuspitch]

Your Thor metas are interesting. I agree that the neck-touching is very unusual and seems to carry abuse imagery throughout Loki's entire arc (and it's how Loki died by Thanos). I have siblings and I don't think I've ever touched their necks. I am not sure if you like being perceived, so let me know if not.

hi! thank you :D i don't mind being perceived - the reason i post in my own tag rather than the main ones is because there was a stage when i was making 30 or more posts a day and i didn't want to either a) get discoursed or b) get banned. comments questions criticism etc are all welcome :)

and yes, i don't think i've ever done that to my siblings either. but, then again, i've also never used "brother/sister" as a serious form of address. i'd say that, as a non-aggressive gesture of affection, it seems to be a lot more normal within an asgardian cultural context. we see it in a few other relationships:

thor to sif in T1. thor persuades sif to leave the battlefield when it becomes clear she can't win. thor is quite forceful here too - he fully turns her around to look at him, and he's clearly giving her orders - but there's no anger or threat in it.

thor to jane in TDW. they argue - jane actually hits him - and then thor puts his hand on her jaw/neck to tell her "fate has brought us together". thor is trying to get her back on his side, and to cover up his own nerves. (the latter doesn't entirely work.)

odin to frigga in TDW. this is just a gesture, no real tension, but it is a little possessive - he calls her "MY queen" at the same time - and authoritative - he's trying to dismiss her fears for him.

thor to bruce in T3, i think? i can't remember the specifics of this one, but at some point, thor uses it to try to keep bruce calm so he can stay in his human form.

which gives us an interesting bundle of connotations, even before we get to how it mingles with violence for thor and loki specifically.

it's a medium-intimate gesture (friends, family, fellow warriors, etc) that's meant to project an air of invulnerable authority, calm down the recipient, and impose order and social cohesion (which is sometimes a synonym for obedience.)

there are two couples on the list, but even disregarding loki and bruce, the presence of sif makes me pretty confident asgardians don't view it as romantic by default (the way some viewers seem to), since thor not having feelings for sif is A Whole Thing.

HOWEVER. i do think it's subtly gendered - we always see it done by a normative/ideal man to someone with less social power - a woman, or an "overemotional" man, or someone who acts outside their gender role (loki + sif)... etc. (not saying that's a hard rule, to be clear. just an interesting pattern.)

(and it's also relevant that the three recipients of this gesture in TDW - frigga, jane, and loki - all either die a sacrificial death or, in jane's case, very narrowly escape one. TDW treats (self-)sacrifice as a form of subjugation.)

[it's also interesting that there is, as far as i'm aware, precisely one reversal, where the gesture goes up the power dynamic instead of down (loki to thor), and it's in a *deleted scene* in T1. i know a lot of people like to take deleted scenes as canon, and sometimes i do too... but i also like to consider the fact that they ARE, deliberately, deleted. they could've shown us a break in this pattern, but they never did.

(i mean, this certainly won't be the main reason for deleting that scene, given that the motif was solidified in the avengers, but still... it could be a factor. and regardless of intent, the pattern is interesting.)]

[edit: i misremembered the deleted scene! it's STILL thor to loki in that one. so we have NO reversal at all...]

so ummm yeah! overall... in this story, it's not always overtly aggressive to touch someone's neck, but it IS generally pretty hierarchical. and it is pretty normal in asgardian culture... but of course, they're an absolute monarchy. a lot of bad things are "normal" to them lol.

[falseandrealultravival]

Ruthless Law-One of the Philosophers in ancient China: Problems of Legalists (Han Fei’s thought and Shang Yang’s sorrow) :Essay

Han Fei（韓非）

The following words and explanations are the main work of Han Fei(韓非), the representative of the legalist, in the great book "Chinese Classical Quotations Encyclopedia" (Kodansha) by Tetsuji Morohashi. It is a passage of "Han Feizi".

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The harm that invades the government is more serious than the cold.

 (Two patterns) Beyond the job, reaching out to other areas is more harmful than the cold weather. Han Hou(昭侯) was drunk and slept. At this time, an official , who was in charge of the crown, put on his clothes, thinking that it would be cold. Awakened, Han Hou was pleased with it for a while, but soon after he knew that the official had done what he mustn’t do, he thought as shown act of over-rights . and other official in charge of clothes did dereliction of duty. It is said that he punished both of the officials.

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403P-404P It sounds good to say, "The law applies equally to everyone," but there is also such a story.

Qin's chief vassal (of course, a legalist): When Shang Yang （商鞅）was guilty and asked for an inn at the inn where he fled, master said, "There is a law decided by Shang Yang, so if you don't have a bill, you can't stay overnight. The amazing reality of "I can't do it" struck Shang Yang. About the idea of ​​Han Fei (280BC? -233BC), which is the source of the idea of ​​the legalist, from the wiki (Han Fei) Utilitarian view of humanity In principle, Han Fei's view of humanity shares a common perspective with Confucius, but strictly speaking, it is close to Xun Kuang's “Human nature is evil”.

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It presents a kind of natural state hypothesis that there was no struggle when there were few people, and develops an argument that changes in the external environment and physical conditions affect humanity. According to Han Fei, people are peaceful when there are many supplies and few people, and conversely, when there are few supplies and there are many people, they are in conflict.

In a struggling society with more people, such as the time when Han Fei lived, the laws and punishments in a peaceful environment are meaningless, and the laws and punishments must be changed according to the times. Some people just look at the lightness of the punishment and say that if the punishment is small, it is charity, and if the punishment is severe, it is cruel, but since the punishment is in line with the trends of the world, this criticism does not apply.

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Han Fei, who impressed Qin Shi Huang(秦の始皇帝), ended his life without serving the emperor, but the remaining Shang Yang, Li Si, and the top Qin Shi Huang are all ruthless and implement laws that afflict the people. Did you do that? In particular, Li Si is a plotter who is jealous of Han Fei's talent and kills him. However, Li Si will be destroyed by the plot he himself took. After the Qin dynasty, which imposed such a fierce legal system on the people, was destroyed, Han Liu Kun(劉邦) was praised by the people, saying, "The law is only in Chapter 3."

However, speaking of law, it is a well-known fact that in modern Japan, legislation that is advantageous only to the politicians, such as "collusion crimes," was carried out under the Abe Cabinet. Rather, Japan is heading for a hellish nation like Qin. It is a society in which people cry in any era and in any country that cracks down on even the smallest acts of law.

 A word of the day: It seems that the history of Han Fei is written in "History(史記)", "Lao Tzu Han Fei Retsuden（biography） No. 3" and "Li Si biography " by Sima Qian (WIKI),and Sima Qian seems to make Han Fei comparable to Lao Tzu. Is’t it?

[julia-bunncat]

Amashinsai AU: What's about the Killing game?

Hi, random DRV3 fans!

Time ago I posted some "My ship opinion" stuff in which I talked about the possibilities of developing pairings, such as Shinsai, Amaguji and Amasai; came to certain conclusions... And promised to supplement the info about such a clause of "Ship Template" as «Who confessed first»! This... is gonna be a very detailed "supplement" 😅 It's possible that I will split it into several different parts, which, in time, will also be detailed… But I came here so people could love Amashinsai as sincerely as I do! 💖 I need to be more than serious for such a purpose ☝

I will begin by saying that in the canon (for all the reasons we know) Amashinsai is not possible. So it has to be either AU Development Plan / DRS [simple way]… Or reworked canon version [the hard one]. Can you guess which way I chose? :>

The correct answer is a "new" or, if you like, my own version of canon. Its plot, chronological, logical and stylistic component is still being supplemented, as the complete census of the game – is not for the faint-hearted... But luckily, in this post I didn't plan to reveal ALL the specifics! (fanfics are more suitable for this format) Let’s just talk about the ones that matter in the context of Amashinsai:

* In the first chapter, Rantaro justifies his title of Ultimate Survivor. In many ways, Tsumugi’s plan to get rid of him fails thanks to Korekiyo (inspired by his suspicions in the first chapter), who manages to befriend Rantaro and "become interested" in his secretive behavior. Shinguji’s indifference essentially saves Amami’s life. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

* Naturally, if Rantaro survives, Kaede will also not be punished as his "murderer". However, the trial will not be overturned, which means the details of the shot put ball plan and her distrust will be exposed. Upon completion of the trial suspicious views will be directed both to her and to Tsumugi... ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

* If something went "off plan" from the beginning, the whole further course of events will be changed. Since Kaede lost favour with almost all members of the caste – she can't be the main character in this crazy story. If in the first chapter the victim and the murderer didn't match – in the following chapters (with one small exception, I think), their number and content will be different too. At this point, the list of undeniable survivors includes: Shuichi, Kaede, Rantaro, Korekiyo, Kaito, Gonta, Kokichi. The rest are either in question, or definitely will not leave this killing game – I see no point in clarifying it by now. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

* From the above paragraph it may seem that in this case the game will be "boring". Moreover, it's clearly shorter than all previous parts of Danganronpa – no more than three chapters with the murderer/victim (the only nuance: the period of "rest" between the murders will be significantly extended: the motives will not encourage immediately)... But that was actually my idea. The last game should be as destructive as possible for Mastermind. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

* The main plot-twist, which I used to call «Your whole personality is a fake / fantasy of one 18~ y.o. girl» – also goes into the furnace... But not completely burnt! I say NO pregames and total fabrication! I say: «You have forced false memories», because DRV3 plays well with the concept of lies and truth – it's a feature I wouldn’t want to erase. For example, Korekiyo Shinguji remains an Ultimate Anthropologist. He "retains" (for the time being) an unhealthy dependence on his sister due to abuse... But he DIDN'T KILL almost 100 girls for her. He didn’t, but he remembers every murder embedded in his head – and has to live with it until he’s sure it’s imposed. In the case of Rantaro Amami, the lie hides in the main purpose of his life – to find the twelve missing sisters... Although he lost only one ;) It would be a relief mixed with the bitter realization that he still doesn’t know where she is, especially given the fact that there's a ruins outside. Some students (such as Kaito, Kokichi, Himiko...) will receive a portion of the lie directly related to their Ultimate talent. Somewhere it was switched, somewhere student’s merits exaggerated so that he is confident in the truth of his talent... But there are those to whom Tsumugi has prepared a special gift: «You’re so boring that it’s pointless to change anything in your life». With despair, Tsumugi will try to shine in such a way that she doesn't conform anyone’s expectations. After her words, everyone will be forced to delve into themselves for a long time. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

* Above I mentioned "ruins outside", but I hasten to note that, according to my approximate chronology, by the time of the DRV3's game, the Future Foundation will have already had time to almost completely suppress the consequences of Junko's apocalypse. This was clearly alluded to in the "Ultra Despair Girls", so I'm inclined to believe strongly in the possibility of such a development. Despair had managed to "knock from the coffin", but it crumbled into dust because of this motion, not causing as much damage as it could. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

* Oh, and, well, the abbreviation "DRV3" in my AU has completely lost its meaning. «Killing Harmony» is not 53'rd Killing Game but the fourth (and it’s not even being broadcast, because it makes the chance of being caught by the Future Foundation higher – K1B0 simply records it to put it online at the end). The cruelest is still the one in which Rantaro was the main character and where Tsumugi was able to have fun in the best traditions of Junko.

Somehow so ~ I'm aware of the risk that already these explanations may cause a ton of questions and may even seem to someone useless... But these concepts have been with me for a long time to tear it out of my heart like that. Amashinsai AU is already some kind of my own "baby" 😂

So let’s move from background events to the real ones.

Who and to whom confessed first in my OT3 ??

Short answer: Korekiyo to Rantaro, and —> Shuichi to Korekiyo and Rantaro.

Yeah, full Amashinsai is formed only in the post-game. And during the Killing Game... only Amaguji manage to start dating :'D

Many things led them to this:

the fact that Rantaro is the first person to understand Kiyo and begin to be friends with him;

the reciprocal gesture of Korekiyo, who saved Rantaro’s life;

*rereading ship opinion post* yes, I really think that Rantaro would be determined to "get into" Shinguji’s mind and convince him of the wrongness of their relationship with sister. To open anthropologist’s eyes to the trauma he suffered.

Although, of course, the third item to implement WILL NOT BE as easy as I described. For Amaguji it's turn into a real battle, full of Amami's "audacity" and Shinguji's repeated breakdowns + resistance. After all, you will agree that the only way to suppress Kiyo’s dependence is to completely destroy his worldview, and even his personality (I mean, it's like a bringing to the original settings). The only thing that will deter an anthropologist from hating is that Rantaro has been emphatetic and caring to him before. He has been and continues...

As for Rantaro: he won’t lose his patience thanks to Shuichi Saihara. They’ll struggle with deciphering his video-message, with mystery of Mastermind... And, in general, do you remember the thesis: «Shuichi – balance for Amaguji»? In the beginnings of their polyamorous relationship it will work always. Shuichi will take an interest in both of them (canonical FTEs), will listen / worry about them during the conflict and will get the support he needs to accept his own detective skills.

In the end, Korekiyo will come to his falling in love, which will be mutual despite all the background. Rantaro will be the one who advise him to cut a lock of hair every time he feels sister’s "manifestation". Rantaro will be the first before whom Kiyo starts to remove his mask (the next one is Shuichi, the last spurt is to show up in front of all classmates). Rantaro will supplement the aspects of Kiyo's personality not imposed by sister by involving him in any activities with others (here Shuichi say hi again 👋) to find out what Shinguji really likes + give him the freedom to deal with feelings alone.

But this is only the FIRST stage, where even the smallest events seemed to have special significance (please keep this in mind). Where all this leads – is the theme for the next part, which I plan to do in the form of "question-answer" and with a more thoughtful timeline.

You too can "participate" in the process of writing, if you'll ask questions about anything that you have not understood from this post..~ But remember, I’m concentrating on Amashinsai right now. Amaguji’s relationship or course of the Killing Game – is a separate conversation ❣

[sopejinsunflower]

Part 21

“Well, good riddance.”

Ginny gave me a disapproving look, eyebrows furrowed so close together they almost merged. I pretended not to see her reaction at what I said, busying myself with flipping through the script backwards and forwards before settling on a page. When it felt like she wouldn’t relent, I finally looked up to meet her gaze. “What?” I shrugged. “He was an asshole to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s an intern. They all get on our nerves. But this is serious. He’s missing.”

I stared at her. “You said he quit.”

“No,” she replied. “I said he never came back to work since last Friday. He hasn’t reported anything to his supervisor and they can’t reach him.”

“Maybe he ran away from his internship. I’ve heard of those before,” I said back. “Almost did that myself back in college.”

Ginny sighed, looking out the window that overlooked the city of Seoul. “I hope that’s the case.”

Not even a week later, news spread that the intern whose name was Kenzo Kwon is missing from his apartment after his supervisor, Minji, decided to do a home visit after days of no contact. Things escalated when Minji called up the university that he was enrolled with to report on his absence only to be told that no final year student is registered under that name, never mind any of them being stationed at HYBE. The university itself is a technical college specialising mostly in physical skills so unless the company is a construction one, it didn’t make any sense that their student would be there.

The police were involved.

HYBE being a giant, news only circulated internally but people were more than freaked out. The other interns became direct hits of the investigation,  their internships halted. You can just imagine the uproar the company was in; a stranger, whose name we couldn’t even confirm was real, had infiltrated and posed as part of the temporary staff, whose access card granted him entrance to most of the office building, roaming around and had been disclosed to sensitive information, was now out there and on the loose. What’s worse, he had been in close contact with the company’s top assets: BTS.

Ginny and I, as well as the other hundred or so contract workers, were all under heavy fire. Our backgrounds were thoroughly checked and we were called in for questioning multiple times. This threw in a huge spanner in the drama series production and, in a desperate attempt to maintain business as usual, HYBE imposed a rule to change our access cards to only allow entrance to floors of the department we’re associated with. Any meetings with artists we were involved with, must happen on their specific floors, where we would have to go through hoops of paperworks to even be able to step onto. It was pure hell. It made everything hard to work on. It made seeing BTS, our main cast, a strenuous activity that happened only twice a month. Not only that, HYBE had double the amount of guards around the building, as well as the ones with the Bangtan boys.

The rumours had been even crazier.

Some said he was a spy from rival companies, getting tabs on disclosed information of HYBE’s artists future activities. Some dismissed him as just a deranged stalker, not of the artists but someone who works in the building, a jilted lover or a scorned husband, though to me, the first one seemed more plausible. The most ridiculous one of all was a favourite joke between Ginny and me, one that claimed that he’s actually an undercover agent, but the objective of his mission ranged from exposing abuse among interns to HYBE’s initiative to uncover power play among the employees to, the most absurd one, uncovering another undercover person. I even heard from one of the IT guys that they claimed him to be a rogue scientist but when I asked why, it was actually baseless. It was a bunch of DnD players creating stories in the IT room. Hell, I’m sure most of the rumours start from their bored asses.

“They’re so creative I might as well ask them to write the sequel to the drama,” I scoffed, sitting back and stretching my arms over my head. Ginny chuckled but she’s too engrossed in the paperwork that she had to fill for the upcoming whole crew meeting, which included BTS, of course and it was difficult enough to find a date that worked for both teams due their packed schedules. It gave me headaches just thinking about it.

This whole ordeal really made me wonder who he was and why he was there. He had been involved with the drama production but he wasn’t always there. He must’ve had other assigned tasks but Minji is of HIVE department, strictly working with literal publications. Was he attached to another department? I made a mental note to ask Minji the next time I see her but I was suddenly reminded of how much he got on my nerves. He was always asking strange questions when he was present in meetings, like those questions were somehow thought out to get under my skin. And that time when he came in to see me privately, what the hell was that? Who was he and what was he playing at?

Shrugging, I had gone back to work feeling irked and restless. The workplace I used to enjoy going to seemed so rigid and bleak now and it was sucking all the creativity juice out of me. I had a few more chapters of the story to scriptwrite but I had no motivation. HYBE, in the following weeks of the mystery investigation of Kenzo Kwon, had somehow turned into an open cage.

I was standing in front of the huge windows looking out over the city, lost in thought, when Ginny stormed up to me and threw her stuff into my chair. She groaned loudly, running her hands over her face. “Three days to the scheduled meeting and Choi is nowhere to be found! I need him to sign the papers! Do you know what a pain those paperworks is?! If we miss the deadline I’ll have to redo everything all over again!”

I put down my mug of latte which had already cooled hours ago. “Can’t you call him?”

“I did!” she huffed, exasperated. “It keeps going to voicemail. And when he is around, he always seems to be rushing and I can’t get a hold of him!”

“Well,” I said, keeping my voice cool to try and displace her irritation. “He is the head of this project. I’m sure he’s got a lot more on his plate to deal with right now. Does it have to be him? Can’t it be someone else? What about Kim? She’s the vice, she could sign in his place.”

Ginny sighed heavily, leaning back in the seat as if her spine just melted. “Fine. I’ll go find her now.”

I nodded. “Sounds good. Just explain the whole thing about Choi.”

“You know,” she said, glancing up at me. “He’s been missing the smaller meetings, too, lately. He’s barely there anymore.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t surprise me. Things are fucked up right now with the whole Kenzo thing.”

“I mean, where is he disappearing to anyway?” Ginny asked, throwing her hands up. “He’s literally the head of the project, he should be here.”

I snorted. “Gin, we were going in and out of interrogation rooms both with the police and with the legal teams here just a couple of weeks ago. I’m sure he had more to bear as the leader. Just chill. You’ll get things sorted with or without the signatures, I’m sure.”

Ginny glared at me but didn’t answer back, a sign that she thought I was right. It had been hell for us to go up and down those interviews, as they called it, that we didn’t get any work done in those weeks. She stood up and collected her things again. “I just hope they figure out who he is soon and find him. I want this over with. It’s a fucking nightmare.”

“You and me both,” I replied. “I hope whatever happened didn’t spook our private investors away.”

Ginny looked at me. “What private investor?”

I kicked myself for saying it aloud because according to Mr Choi, not everyone was made aware of the news. “The NDA is there for a reason,” he had told me. But Ginny is my agent, who is basically my manager now, and it made me wonder why she wasn’t in the loop. I shake my head. “Nothing, forget it.”

“No, tell me. What private investor? We have a private investor?”

I threw my hands up in defence. “Look, I signed an NDA, okay? I can’t say. It just slipped out of my mouth.”

“You signed a what? When? For what?” Ginny took a step closer to me. “Why didn’t you tell me about it? Everything concerning you should go through me first especially anything that needs your signature.”

“Choi came to me directly, okay?” I said, getting annoyed. “And I’ve signed it and I’m not going to say anything more.”

“Well, who else knows?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

Ginny regarded me, her brows furrowing. She was chewing on her bottom lips. She took out her phone and started dialling, putting the phone to her ear. “Who’re you calling?”

“Choi,” she said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this if I have to drag him by his feet. And get the signatures while I’m at it.” She turned and left, slamming the door behind her.

***

I stare at the Monopoly board in disbelief, too afraid to even breathe in case it’s too loud to hear him properly.

Namjoon?

I’m here, baby.

That’s when I break down, crashing against the board game as the tears flow freely, gasping for air as I cry in mixed relief and happiness. The emotions washes over me like cleansing waves after waves, wracking my body until I’m shaking to my core. Strength has left me but the sweet, sweet elation of hearing his voice once again makes my heart bloom so greatly my brain is malfunctioning on how to express it. The tears were easy as they had always been there at the edges, waiting for release.

All at once, the boys start to speak with Namjoon, the telepathy link crowded and bursting with their voices both in shouts or cries or just pure ecstasy that I can barely understand what is being said or even who is actually speaking. They are speaking over each other that all Namjoon can do is laugh but I can hear it, too, in his voice, the strain melting away as he rejoices to the sound of his brothers’ call for him.

I push myself up on my wobbling elbows, turning to look at Taehyung’s wailing face and I pull him into a tight hug, the boy overwhelmed. Someone is pulling me by my shirt and I find myself in Hoseok’s arms next. His face is tear-stained but he’s more quiet, sniffling as he presses my face against his. “You did it. You reached him,” he mumbles through trembling lips.

“We did it,” I say, cupping his cheeks.

We break away and the first person I lock eyes with is Yoongi. He has tears still falling down his red cheeks, his eyes watery but the soft smile on his face feels like a gentle hand that finally calms my senses, reining them in again. I want so much to crawl into his lap but right now it seems that Jungkook needs it more than me. He has his head buried against Yoongi’s stomach as Yoongi rocks him like a child.

When everyone is settled again, when everyone has wiped the last tears and snots from their faces, when everyone is sitting down back in the circle (minus Jungkook who remains laying in Yoongi’s lap), we’re ready again to talk to Namjoon.

Joonie, can you hear me?

Yes, baby. Loud and clear. Anyone want to explain how this is happening?

I take a deep breath and look around at the others but everyone is staring back at me. Jin gives a small nod, urging me to keep talking. I…don’t know. I’m not exactly sure how but…oh God, I’m so glad to hear your voice again. I hold back another bout of tears, swallowing hard to stop myself from crying.

Me too, baby.

Jin wipes his nose. Yah, Namjoon-ah. I’m going to kick your ass so hard when I see you again.

Namjoon chuckles and I find myself smiling when I hear that. He’s alive, I think. He’s safe.

Namjoon-hyung. Jungkook’s mind-voice is feeble and we all turn to look at him wiping his face with his already wet sleeves. At that moment, he looks less like the twenty-four-year-old man that he is and more like the fifteen-year-old kid the six men took care of almost a decade ago. His alpha is also in the same state, small with his head on his own paws. I can’t quite make sense of this image I keep getting of our wolves but it feels real and is vivid in my head. Is it the result or the reason for when the telepathy link is established?

Jungkook-ah, Jin-hyung didn’t feed you well, did he?

Yah! I feed him more than enough!

Then why does he sound so small, hyung?

Jin is now up on his knees, hands flying and lips puckering even when he speaks internally. It’s funny to watch, like a game of Charades as Jin’s mental voice attacks Namjoon like a machine gun going off. Because he’s been worried sick about you, Namjoon-ah. You left without saying goodbye! You know how sensitive our maknae is! Your long-ass letter doesn’t count because it’s bullshit and how could you leave us with that map while you just easily surrender, hah? And you didn’t even talk to us and you didn’t tell us about what was happening before you left. I’m so mad at you right now for being so selfish and stingy and you think you’re Anpanman? Yaaaahhh! I have no more words to say!

He sits back down again, huffing and crossing his arms together. I’m trying to hide my smile to respect Jin’s anger but the way that he’s scrunching up his face tells me that he was mainly playing but there are truths in his words that every one of us silently agreed with. Namjoon lets out another small chuckle. Hyung, I’m sorry. When we see each other again, you can yell at me again, okay?

Yoongi clears his throat. Let’s catch up later. Namjoon-ah, where are you?

Namjoon sighs. I don’t know. A room, I guess.

Flashes of images fill my mind and I see Namjoon pacing a small white room, bare of nothing except a simple single bed, a small desk and a toilet in the corner. It looks like a prison setting, only brighter and more sterile. I see Namjoon wearing all white so it almost looks like he’s blending in with the walls and the sheets on the bed. I look up to Yoongi and notice the look on his face. Did we see what Namjoon is seeing?

Namjoon continues. They’ve locked me in here since I volunteered to come up. I don’t see anybody unless they’re bringing in food or when they’re taking blood samples. If this keeps going, I’m going to be drained. Look, his tone turns serious and I see an image of Namjoon sitting down on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. It’s a whole damn facility up here. I…I misjudged him.

We glance at each other, suddenly grim. Yoongi asks, Did you…did you meet him?

No, I didn’t, Namjoon answers. It’s a whole team of researchers, too. And they have armed guards.

We all remain silent, whatever hopes that resurrect with connecting with Namjoon diminishing little by little. Then Namjoon speaks again. I’m being watched twenty-four seven. There’s cameras in this room and they didn’t bother to hide it this time.

How big is the place? Jin asks, brows furrowed, chin against his chest.

I don’t know exactly but it looks like a hospital building.

Have you seen anything other than your room? I ask.

Except the hallways? No, not really, he says and I have a flash of Namjoon’s face frowning. The exit from the bunker is a hatch in the ground. It’s not guarded or locked but you’d have to come through another set of doors to get into the facility and that one uses this fancy keypad lock. The screen one that if you break it, it’ll just keep the lock on and trigger the alarm.

That’s when our hopes are dashed completely. I sit back weakly against Hoseok, letting out a shaky breath. That’s it. That’s the end of it. My lips trembled again and I bit down hard. “Great, how are we going to find out the combination?” I hear Hoseok mutter.

Yoongi asks, hesitantly, Do you, by any chance, know how many digits there are in the password?

Four, Namjoon answers without missing a beat. I’m confident because I heard the sound when they keyed them in. I just- fuck, I should’ve paid more attention to the numbers.

I sit up, an idea forming. This is ridiculous, but do you…remember the sounds?

Namjoon is silent for a moment before saying, Maybe? If I can hear it again, maybe I can remember the sequence.

“But we don’t even know the digits,” Jimin mumbles, looking at me from across the Monopoly board.

I turn to Jin. “Do we have flour in the kitchen?”

Jin nods. “Lots but this is hardly the time to bake, sweetie.”

Yoongi suddenly smacks Jin on the thigh, a loud resounding sound that makes Jin yelps, rubbing at his leg and glaring at Yoongi in a what the fuck way. But Yoongi is looking at me, eyes and mouth wide as he understands exactly what I plan to do. “You’re a fucking genius! That’s right! We could use the flour!”

I grin back at him, nodding. I hear Namjoon growls playfully, My baby’s fucking smart.

I think back, If we can find the digits and try it out a couple of times, maybe you’ll remember the sequence and-

And we won’t have to go through ten thousand trials and errors! Yoongi finishes, gripping Jungkook’s shoulder so hard he finally sits up, rubbing at the spot.

I notice Taehyung and Jimin looking confused as hell, looking back and forth between me and Yoongi. Hoseok’s face is just blank, staring at me. Jimin speaks this time, his voice dripping in sarcasm, annoyed for being left behind. Please, somebody translate everything into a language we can all understand.

I laugh, clapping my hands once. “Haven’t you watched any spy or crime movies? They always use some sort of powder to put over any screens to get fingerprints off!”

Taehyung starts tapping Jimin on the arm excitedly. “Oh, oh! I know! The fingerprints will show which numbers are pressed!”

“Ding, ding, ding!” I crow aloud and even Hoseok is laughing and clapping his hands.

“Waahh!” exclaims Hoseok. “Daebak!”

And then, in unison and comically so, Jimin and Taehyung turn to each other, both have their thumbs up in each other’s faces and parrot, “Bak, bak!”

The room roars into laughter and I get another image of Namjoon trying to hide his grin behind his hand. It’s been a long time since the house feels less like a prison, a long time since there’s actual, real and distinct hope of getting out of here, a long time since I feel this lightness in my chest. I want to see you again, baby, I hear Namjoon saying and judging from the other guys still laughing and joking, I knew it was a private thought only for me. I want to see your pretty little ass again, he repeats, his domineering aura travelling through the link that sends delicious shivers up my spine.

“So when do we do this?” Taehyung asks aloud, and then remembering to include Namjoon, repeats the question through telepathy.

Tonight. When the lights go out after midnight. You might have a chance, then. There’s a slight resoluteness in Namjoon’s voice that sounded foreboding and I’m not the only one who picked up on it. Yoongi and Jin exchange sombre looks, a look that shoots fear through my heart but I try not to pay it much attention. No one wants to ask about the armed guards but Namjoon sends flashing images, his memories of them so we get an idea. They look like normal soldiers but instead of green they wear grey and wear balaclavas, an M4 Carbine slung around one shoulder each as they march Namjoon to his new room.

“We can’t all go,” Yoongi suddenly says. “We’re still under surveillance and it’ll alert them if all of us are missing.”

I don’t like the idea that some of us are left down here or even only one of us up there but Yoongi has a point. We would have a better chance with stealth and in our current situation, stealth means a smaller number. The question is; who gets to go up?

We need to secure the surveillance room first, says Namjoon, his tone dark. If we can take out the guards there, the others will have a chance to come up. We have to be smart and mostly, we have to be patient. The last sentence feels like it’s directed for me but then again, I might not be the only one apprehensive about a smaller number leaving. We have no actual clue what to expect and in contrast to stealth, strength can only come with a bigger number.

How do we decide who will go? Jin asks, looking around at all of us and seeming to skip me, something I find a little offensive.

Suddenly, like a wave sweeping over, the all-too familiar sense of Namjoon’s alpha settled over us and I knew then that he had already chosen. Jungkookie, Namjoon calls gently. You think you can handle it?

Jungkook pushes off of Yoongi, his shoulders suddenly growing wider as he straightens up. He looks at me briefly and I see his alpha wolf has also sat up, head and ears perked. What do you need me to do, hyung?

After reciting the plan for the third time,Namjoon decided to do it tonight.

Midnight was just around the corner and it didn’t take long for us to wait, anxious and sick to our stomachs. Jungkook is quiet from when the plan was laid out until now, sitting on the stairs with his elbows on his knees, staring holes into the floor, his brows knitted.

“You think he’s going to be fine?” I hear Hoseok whisper to Jin who in turn looks at the maknae for a long time, never answering. Jin, who earlier had slapped Jungkook on the back and enthusiastically said “If anyone can do it, it’ll be you, JK,” doesn’t look so confident now. Or maybe he’s just worried. We have no idea what’s to come.

Yoongi pulls me aside into the reading area, away from everyone else. His grip on my wrist is tight, his nails digging into my skin. He stares deep into my eyes and this close I can see the light facial hair coming in and how sunken his cheeks look now. He looks torn between what to say next but I run my hand through his hair, his hair which now has grown long. “I’m going to be fine,” I say with a smile. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Bullshit,” he replies softly. “Everyone is worried. I don’t know why Namjoon wants you to go with Jungkook. I have no fucking clue what he’s thinking. It’s dangerous up there.”

“It’s dangerous whether I go or not,” I say back, sliding my arms around him. “And I think two is better than one.”

“Then I’ll go,” he says, pulling me close, “you stay here.”

I put my palm against his warm cheek, noting how his lashes curled back, how soft his skin is and how close we have become whether by living in proximity or because of our altered DNA. In the back of my mind, I have this sudden flashback to when I had only been an ARMY, one among the millions, who only got to look at them from behind barriers or on screens. I’m reminded of that first day when they walked into the room and me thinking how reality felt like a fantasy in that small moment, excited at the prospect of being able to work together. I remember the first time I sat together with them at the cafeteria table after work and Yoongi had brought over eight bottles of different types of sodas. When he put one in front of me, he said casually without making eye contact, “No alcohol because writer-nim is a teetotal.”

“There must be a reason Namjoon chose me,” I start, caressing his cheek with my thumb. “And if he’d think I couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t have.”

“Are you saying I’m doubting you?”

“Are you?”

His eyes bore into mine and I see a million emotions flicker through them, none of which he could express with words. “Shibal,” he mutters, his mouth fusing against mine in a kiss so rough it feels more like a desperate attempt to merge us together, a way to keep me with him when I have to go up top later with Jungkook, just as Namjoon had planned. When he pulls away, I see blood on his lips and taste the copper on my tongue, unsure if it was mine or his lips that had split. It didn’t seem to matter. “Don’t you dare die. You hear me?”

I let out a dry giggle, shaking my head. “That’s the ultimate plan.” Then my tone drops, the smile wiped off my face. “You, too, Min Yoongi.”

He doesn’t say anything but squeezes me, an unsaid confirmation, a gesture instead of words that could be held against him if he fails to do so. I’m not satisfied but Jin is calling for me before I have a chance to argue.

In the living room, the boys are slowly remaking the nest, the Monopoly board now abandoned on one of the sofas. Without warning, my omega slips into action, whining and pushing them off so that she could do it properly, fluffing up pillows, arranging the blankets and random clothing items, organising the other stuff that makes up the nesting materials. I have a feeling this would be the last time I would prepare the nest for the pack, one last comfort I can leave behind for them, in case the plan goes to hell. The way the boys hold back, watching from the rim of the nest, I didn’t need telepathy to read their minds; they share the same notion. The air is thick and heavy with it, a sort of finality shrouding us. No one said anything much.

When I’m done, I sit in the middle of it, cross-legged, and look up at them. Yoongi is barely looking back, his eyes roam the room, anything but at me, blinking furiously. Jin is the first to come in, fluffing his pillow and patting the spot next to him. I crawl over and he envelops me in his arms, chin resting on the top of my head. Jimin cuddles close next to us and Taehyung takes the other side. Hoseok settles next to Jimin, looking back at Jungkook who is still standing out. “Jungkookie,” he calls, his voice the happy-go-lucky Hoseok that I haven’t heard in so long. “Come inside and be my hug pillow.”

Jungkook gives a small smile, a light snort as if he’s about to roll his eyes but complies, going over to his Hoseok-hyung and letting the older one manhandle him, bear-hugging him, one leg over his thigh. “You’re heavy, hyung,” he complains but Hoseok doesn’t relent and Jungkook does nothing to push him off, even hugging Hoseok’s leg against himself.

Yoongi is in the nest last, his scent heavy and brooding. He settles opposite of me, his toes reaching over to nudge mine, one foot in between my two feet.

I feel Namjoon’s alpha’s commanding air blanketing us before I hear him. Now, sleep, and the house falls into a deep slumber.

I awoke to Jungkook shaking my shoulders, a grim look on his face. I rub sleep from my eyes and sit up, Jin’s arm falling slack to hit Jimin across the chest but neither even stir. I stuff a pillow in my spot and pull the blanket up, doing the same as what Jungkook did with his, Hoseok now hugging an actual pillow. We stand outside the nest looking in for a moment longer, wondering if this was what Namjoon did before he left us, what Namjoon had felt before he walked out. This sinking feeling of not knowing if we’ll meet again, an unspoken goodbye as we go to meet an unknown fate wrought through my heart and I feel Jungkook’s hand squeezing mine. “I took care of the reading area cameras. We should go.”

I let Jungkook guide me, the house silent and dark, made even darker since there is no fake moon to shine through the windows. He removes the Bible from the shelf and peers in between the book. He reaches in, feeling for the switch I had found and turns to me.

“You sure they won’t notice the one camera out?” I whisper.

“Let’s just hope they don’t,” he answers softly. “Ready?”

I’m not but I nod anyway, steeling my nerve and gritting my teeth together. I hear a soft click as he presses on it and hold my breath. The shelf itself lets out a sigh and we both take a few steps back, watching with wide eyes as it somehow sinks into the wall before rolling sideways to reveal an opening. The light flickers inside and the sudden brightness makes us squint as we look at what looks like a small square room. When my eyes adjust, I see it for what is; a landing area, the entrance to the hatch. Silver rungs of ladder line the wall directly in front of us leading upward and as we inch closer, head tilting up to see, I almost missed a breath.

That is a long way up.

I gulp, staring at Jungkook whose Adam’s apple is sticking in my face as he’s craning his neck as if that will help him see the top end of the ladder. We hear another heavy sigh and jump, looking back as the shelf slides back into place. That’s when I noticed the button on the side wall, probably to open it again from this side. The light in the room flickers and then turns off but the ladder shaft is still lit. Jungkook puts one hand on the rung and then a foot. “I’ll go first. Watch your step, noona.”

We climb up in total silence, our bare feet barely making a sound against each metal. My palms are starting to sweat and I dare not look down. I’m starting to feel claustrophobic, breathing heavily and keeping my eyes level with my hands instead of putting too much pressure on my neck looking up towards Jungkook. My arms are getting tired and it feels like we’ve been climbing for hours. Just a little bit more,  says Jungkook in my head but even I can hear him panting.

Then Jungkook stops and I halt just before the rung his feet is on. I look up and whisper, “What is it?”

Jungkook looks down, sweat lining his hairline. “It’s the hatch.”

My heart starts thudding a little faster, pushing down thoughts about what negative outcome this is going to lead to. I wait with bated breath, watching Jungkook carefully and slowly turning the wheel of the hatch. It makes a creaking sound on the first turn that spikes my heart rate even more but it turns smoothly the rest of the way. When the wheel finished turning all the way, Jungkook pauses and peers down at me again. “Noona,” he calls in a small voice, “ready?”

I count to ten before finally nodding. Jungkook hesitates for a moment before turning back around to the hatch. He lays his palm flat against the surface. Namjoon-hyung, he calls out, I hope you’re right.

Gwenchana, comes Namjoon’s reply. The security door is what you should worry about.

Jungkook nods even though he knows Namjoon couldn’t have seen that. With a deep breath, he pushes open the hatch, his shoulder muscles straining. The hatch swings open but instead of thumping on its back on the other side, the hinges hold it open at a hundred and twenty degree angle. All I can see beyond Jungkook is the white smooth ceiling and the bright fluorescent light of the other side. Jungkook climbs out, sticking his head out, looking around once before pulling himself fully out. He squats around the lip of the hatch and holds out a hand. I take his hand and climb up after him. We both remain low on the ground, taking in the room that resembles the landing pad down below. No cameras in sight.

Topside, finally. Is it just me or does it feel lighter? But at the thought of the rest of the pack still sleeping somewhere below me gives my stomach a funny feeling.

Jungkook gently lowers the hatch but doesn’t lock it. He nods towards the only exit, a double steel door with a red line across it that says authorised personnel only in yellow. Just like Namjoon said, a keypad is stuck on the wall next to it, the screen black. We both approach it, staring at it as if it might suddenly grow a mouth with razor sharp teeth and start attacking us. Jungkook waves a hand over it and suddenly the screen lights up, showing the numbers.

I fish out the small ziplock bag of flour from my pocket and open it. I take a small handful of it and look at Jungkook, suddenly feeling silly. He shrugs and I sigh. Here goes nothing. I throw the flour over the screen, expecting to fail because it can’t be that easy, can it? But there they were; white-floured fingerprints over the digit one, three, six and zero. Jungkook and I stare at each other in awe.

Hyung, we have the digits. It’s one, three, six, zero.

Good. Let me listen to the sounds.

Okay, ears up.

Jungkook laughs softly before he presses them one by one in slow succession, letting Namjoon hear the notes. To my ears, there’s not much difference between one from the other but as a music producer, I do hope his hearing is much more attuned. I stand back and let Jungkook handle the keypad lock, praying silently that the door won’t suddenly open from the other side.

Can you try it one more time?

There’s a waver in Namjoon’s voice that gives me a bad feeling but I chalk that up to nerves breaking at the seams with each passing valuable seconds that we have. How many tries do we actually have before the keypad locks on itself and sounds the alarm? I watch as Jungkook presses the digits once more and the keypad beeps to let us know it’s the wrong code, twice now. Fuck. Namjoon is quiet and Jungkook’s finger wavers above the pad. I watch his Adam’s apple bob a few times and I hug my arms together to stop myself from shaking. C’mon, Namjoon, I think. Now’s not the time to play dumb.

Jungkook-ah, Namjoon says, try zero, six, one, three.

Again, Jungkook nods and slowly presses the numbers.

Fuck, that’s not it, says Namjoon just as Jungkook hits the last digit and keypad lets out a warning sound. I press my eyes together, silently praying to whoever or whatever is listening for Namjoon to get the code right the next try.

Okay, okay. Let’s try six, zero, one, three.

The keypad lock beeps again and this time it comes with a warning that we have one last try. Jungkook glances towards me, fear reflecting in his eyes. I reach out a hand and he takes it, linking our fingers together, sweaty palm against sweaty palm. We both can hear Namjoon cursing and swearing but I knew this was a long shot. We all did.

Joonie, I call out, maybe we can put this off for another time. We can think about the combi-”

Wait! Hold on! Just let me think.

I exchange looks with Jungkook, shaken not by the aggression in Namjoon’s voice but the desperation. This is starting to be more dangerous than futile. We stay silent, letting Namjoon blow off steam and I get an image of him pacing his room angrily, pulling at his hair. I’m about to comfort him, to tell him that it’s fine, we can come back another time once we gather ourselves when we hear something from the other side of the door.

“Someone’s coming,” Jungkook says in a panic whisper, his hand gripping mine so tight I think my bones might pop but the terror that’s taking ahold of me is much greater than the pain that I barely notice. The noise is louder now and it’s clearer that whoever or whatever it is, it’s right on the other side. We hear the faint beeping of the keypad lock, the one from the outside and I think my heart is now in my throat. Jungkook and I both take a few steps back and I contemplate the thought of jumping back down the hatch.

The hatch, I think aloud to Jungkook. We can jump back down.

We won’t make it.

GO! Namjoon’s mind voice shouts so loud it sounded physical that my ears are ringing. Get the fuck outta-

Too late.

We hear the keypad lock beeps in a lighter note just as the similar one on our side blinks green with the words DOOR UNLOCK written across it. Jungkook steps in front of me, one hand shielding me. His alpha awakens, hair bristling and going into protective mode; ears down, growling as Jungkook’s scent heightens, his pheromones the strongest it has ever been. I’ve never seen this alpha Jungkook, seeming that he had always been the smallest among the other three. But now, at this moment, Jeon Jungkook looks to be the most ferocious, his back hard, his shoulders wide, ready to tear through a whole army with his bare hands. I clench the back of his shirt, not to hold him back but more for comfort because as the door unlocks and the automatic system jumps to life, I think this is it.

The steel doors finally slide open and my grip tightens. My only thought is, as my omega bares her teeth and prepares to attack alongside her alpha, no way in hell Jungkook is fighting alone.

a/n: before you guys scream about the cliffhanger, I KNOW! IM IN PAIN TOO T_T but as always, let me know what you think in the comment or ask. I feel I have a few aces up my sleeves before this story wraps up xx

Next part: here!

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[theoptimisticdaydreamer]

Episode 8 marks the halfway point of the drama and a lot of things happened. Primarily, a deeper dive into Joong Gil’s story and I am here for it. Also, you understand how his serious threatening aura is actually advantageous for more than one type of soul.

I AM OVER THE MOON WITH HOW MUCH SCREEN TIME JOONG GIL GOT THIS EPISODE. Could it have been more? Definitely. However, it was longer than the 60 seconds he has gotten in the past and I am thrilled. Hopefully, he has more of a main character presence in the future because it is about time.

We open the episode with Joong Gil and Ryeon 10 years ago. 10 years is interesting to me because I wonder if we can use this same year as the year she took over the Risk Management Team or if she was with him for a little bit longer before she switched. You also get the tidbit that they worked together for TWO HUNDRED years. What blew my mind is that he smiled at her and he gave honest and personal details. When she asked him why he doesn’t sleep he could have been succinct with it and simply say its hard or it is difficult for me. But he goes into detail! Which means he trusts her enough to tell her things he probably hasn’t told to anyone else. Before getting into the details of what he said, this alone makes his attitude towards her make more sense. He probably has never gotten close to anyone in the entirety of the time he was a Grim Reaper and he finds someone that he gets close to over the period of two hundred years (unbeknownst to him that is his wife) and finally gets comfortable enough to confide in her and then she leaves him to join another team that he doesn’t agree should exist. Less than a decade compared to two centuries is but a blip-- the hurt is still raw and he has not attempted to mend the bridges.

Why he can’t sleep is itself eye opening. He is haunted by nightmares. The fact that he can be haunted already breaks his self-imposed icicle facade. I’m afraid of falling asleep. When I sleep, that horrible moment keeps repeating itself. Sadness and rage. Distrust and despair. And lethargy. That person looks exactly like me but that’s not me. So I hate seeing that nightmare every time I fall asleep. The way she stood still and looked at him as he walked away speaks volumes. I have a strong inkling that his recollection of that memory varies with her recollection of that memory.

You get a little bit more detail about the single scene that replays over and over in his mind. The fact that this is the only scene is in itself interesting considering how long he has lived (because he looks to at least be in his mid 20s in the memory) and how long he has been a Grim Reaper. It seems like the people he killed knew him. He was not their enemy and it surprised them the calculatedness with which he killed them. This means that up until this point he was not this type of person and something drove him to do this. His words are also very telling because he says that he will take down anyone who dares to utter such insults no matter how many of them there are. I think the insults were not directed at him but someone who is important to him...he is acting out of protectiveness and defensiveness. Considering at this point, he was married, my gut says that it was Ryeon who he is protecting. You also learn that he runs into Ryeon after killing those men and she says is that how you were taught to wield a sword. Through those words, it seems like she does not think that he should be killing people. I am not sure if she knows what provoked him, that the reason he drew his sword was because of insults. Furthermore, he implied that there were many people who insulted them so even if she knew of the insults I don’t think he let her know the scope of how far it stretched. What she does know, I think she just lets it roll off of her shoulders but in contrast, he takes great issue with. I also have a feeling that the insults were more than merely surface level and probably included jeopardizing their safety. 

This memory does not warrant becoming a nightmare for someone who has lived for over four hundred years. The memory also cuts off right when she confronted him. Possibly this timing is what lead it to become a nightmare because there was no resolution. She clearly does not hate him for what happened that night. You know this because she retained her memories even in death and chose to work with him. I am sure because of the little deal that she had with the Director she could have chosen anywhere else to put in her hours. At the point of the flashback they had been working together for two hundred years... you do not work two centuries with someone you hate and resent and hold a grudge against. I think only in getting her memory of these events and completing this sequence will he be free of this nightmare. My theory is that since he is currently a emotionally stunted statue, he probably became emotionally awkward after becoming a soldier and being sent to the border. He lost the ability to read basic cues and effectively communicate. I don’t think he explained to her why he did what he did (which is probably all she needed to not be upset at him), instead chosing to clam up. He probably died soon after and his regret was tackling the problem solo instead of letting her in and doing it together and as a result leaving her with such a bad impression of him. Letting his crueler tendencies get the best of him and letting her down. Sort of the same vibes of I didn’t want my last words to you to be an argument. I do not think his recollection is 100% accurate to what happened in reality since dreams take a form different to reality but there is something about that moment, a wrong choice that he made, that he regrets and has been haunted by ever since. I hope that he can sleep peacefully by the end of the drama (if this happens with his head on Ryeon’s shoulder I will not complainnn). 

Even after the red thread between them was cut, I think there is still a pull between Joong Gil and Ryeon. His nightmare does not feature her when he suddenly becomes worried and goes to the Risk Management Office to find her. I don’t think a Grim Reaper’s powers extend to target location transportation which means before we see him join the Risk Management Team, he had to find them. Which speaks to his perserverance and his worry. 

I am moreso surprised by the subtle Joong Gil and Jun Woong interaction we got this episode. I bet that he intimidated the creepy psycho by promised him that death will be extremely torturous for him and showing him the fires of Hell to aid and reassure Jun Woong. That he will pay the price of his actions in death. So that, even in Jun Woong does not kill him, it does not mean that he won’t suffer the way he deserves. He helped him in making his final decision in an implicit way. All I can say is give me more. By the end of this drama I want everyone melting in the face of the giant sunshine puppy. 

Joong Gil and the Director meeting in her garden definitely makes me feel like she is everyone’s grandmother. When she compliments Jun Woong and says that he is an interesting fellow, sprightly like a budding leaf possibly because he is so young and not set in his ways (like they were with so many years behind them). When she told him that she thought Jun Woong would let the creep die but he has good instincts, Joong Gil did not disagree with the characteristic coldness he had in the beginning but was just softer and almost awkardly agreeing with her by saying that he didn’t know. I am here for Joong Gil seeing the value in Jun Woong! Can’t wait for Joong Gil to be more open-minded and generous because I think that is the core of his character development. The grandmother aura came back in full force when she worried about how he was sleeping. It definitely feels like she is trying to gently nudge him in a given direction and that she only wants what is best for him. I am glad that he has this grandmother figure in Jumadeung because he really needs it.  

The case itself I have very mixed feelings about. It was my least favorite part of the episode. Learning that the psycho who was profitting off of so many people who desired to take their own lives was not in fact the big burly man but the shrimp in a coat was a surprise and was not a surprise at the same time. He was the only one who never offered up his story and he radiated this aura of malice. Jun Woong definitely shines through even in this dark environment. It was with his encouragement and his words of support that he was able to save the two other people there and got them to escape before they would lose their lives. His story that he offered up was not a lie and it would make complete sense that anyone with his backstory would be on the fence and pushed to the brink to consider this group s**cide scam as a viable option. However, he immediately was offering words of support to everyone else and never gave up trying to escape even when the situation looked dire. While the capture scene was one of the most unhinged things I have watched in recent memory, Rowoon delivered that scene immaculately. You really felt the despiration and the panic that Jun Woong was experiencing in that moment. It truly did feel like a kick to the face when after all the suffering Jun Woong experienced at the hands of this creep that he would be the life they had to save. I am glad that the creep’s life is not easy in the aftermath since he cannot hear nor talk and will be confined to a bed for the rest of his life. However, part of me feels like that still can’t compare to what he put so many people through. Would have loved to see a second epilogue featuring all of the ways he will be tortured and miserable in Hell.

I think the case caused something in Jun Woong to break. Like there is an innocence and an energy that is now forever lost. Not only the case itself but Ryung Gu and Ryeon’s reactions. When they told him that the situation only existed because of him and to stop doing “reckless” things,  it really felt like a dagger to the chest because he intervened because he cared, because he thought that what was happening was wrong, because he wanted to save lives. There was never really any recognition that his motives were valid. His intentions were good and his heart was in the right place and it felt like they were putting him down. He is the missing piece of Jumadeung and the heart of the Risk Management Team because he cares. He cares about people leading up to that choice and in the aftermath. Ryeon and Ryung Gu still mainly care about the people in the moment they are making the choice and still not at an honest and emotionally warm level like Jun Woong does. You remove that and you remove the light in the lightbulb. It is a fundamental part of who he is and the value he brings to the team. I really feel like they could have handled that better. 

I do appreciate that at least Ryung Gu and Ryeon went after him and saved him. They are slightly redeemed by the aftermath of the case. How Ryeon followed through on getting justice while in the Land of the Living with the thumbdrive of footage. Saving them so that they can receive the punishment they deserve in the Land of the Living. This is one of the powers the Director has authorized to the team manager of the Risk Management Team. YESSSS.  Ryung Gu shared a beer with Jun Woong and smiled at him. He spent time with him when he was not required to. He shared with Jun Woong that Ryeon was also very impulsive and hot headed when she was starting out as a Grim Reaper. Ryung Gu put his hand on his shoulder on his way out. Ryeon put her hand on Jun Woong’s shoulder in Episode 6 and now we get another hand on the shoulder. I feel like the way that the Grim Reapers show affection is through the shoulder pat of support and I love it. Cannot wait for Joong Gil’s shoulder pat of support to complete the trifecta of shoulder pats. I hope that the barriers between the three members of the Risk Management Team have relaxed and they become a stronger team from here on out. The Epilogue really highlights the growing playful energy that exists between the three of them and I love it so much.

It did feel like everything was a giant test for Jun Woong and I am not sure what the overall goal and outcome will be but I am praying for a happy ending. 

The confrontation between Joong Gil and Ryeon was perfection. You could almost see the lightning coming out of each other’s eyes. I laughed when she called him out on the fact that he should not have been there because there was no soul. I do wonder, if he is this bad at lying, how she has not noticed this entire time that he cares for her in his own way? I don’t think she was prepared for him to start remembering their past. Ohhh it is likely to get angsty but I also want more fluff. I would love to see more happy moments between them while they were alive (and for him to remember that he loved (loves) her and he was happily married to her). I also want him to see her life in the aftermath of his death because I think that will be the most important element in being more open-minded and finally understanding her stance on s**cide. I really do hope for their reconcilliation. 

There is a theory that Jun Woong could be a reincarnation of Joong Gil and Ryeon’s child. It has not been revealed that they had a family together but it would make sense chronologically. They married quite young and in the flashbacks (especially for ancient times) were old enough to have children. Possibly, their child passed away before Ryeon passed away because she entered into Hell with no regret or resentment. There would be regrets if you died and left you child all alone in the world without their parents, if you left behind someone you loved. However, if they were taken from her and it was not a natural death and she got justice and revenge for this, she would not have any regret or resentment because she avenged her loved ones. You can also see that Jun Woong shares similar traits to both of them: with his passionate hot-headedness at times (which comes from Ryeon) and his protectiveness of his loved ones (from the both of them). Both Joong Gil and Jun Woong got duped by the shaman in one of the earlier episodes. They both also have the same dynamic with the Director (caring but also testing her patience). Ryeon also sees something in Jun Woong and is relatively soft towards him to the point where she bends rules that she has never done before. She perhaps feels that subconscious pull and affection towards him. Joong Gil is softening towards Jun Woong and he is only really soft towards two other people- the Director and Ryeon. However, if he is truly their son, I don’t think she knows yet. I think that could be a big reveal later (possibly made by the Director) at a pivotal moment. If this is the direction we are heading in, I want to see more signs of how they are similar! Like mother like son, like father like son, like parents like child--- give it all to me!

On the other hand, I am nervous if they all are tied together in the past. The Director’s assignment for Ryeon is that she will need to save someone’s life and she will not know who that person is. Her entire team’s mission is to save someone’s life when they are considering s**cide. So, whoever this person is to be in the scope of the Risk Management Team will need to be considering s**cide. With the amount of observation that is being made towards Jun Woong, Jun Woong could be that person and Ryeon just does not know it yet. I do not want Jun Woong to be seriously considering taking his own life. I cannot imagine him being on this precipice because he would have to be significantly pushed to the brink and I also do not want to imagine what would entail. Please do not destroy me emotionally like that. 

The next episode relates to animals and I am sure is going to tug on all of my heartstrings like all of the episodes that preceeded it. That being said, I hope that the show balance the cases well and each of them serves a purpose that warrants not focusing on the individual stories of the Grim Reapers. I get increasingly worried that the main characters (of which there are four.. not three.. four) will be pushed to the sidelines until the very end of the drama. Please focus more on the Grim Reapers instead of leaving their arcs to be a footnote at the end of each episode. I am interested in seeing and learning more about them as soon as possible. 

[expressing-in-secreto]

As Untamed as the Sea

Chapter 2 

A Poseidon x Reader Fanfic (Record of Ragnarok).

Warnings: anxiety attack? (but controlled). 

Word Count: 4373 words.

Here is the second chapter of the story. I hope you enjoy it. Any comment is appreciated. By the way, my main account here is cuniculus-tenebrarum, so if I reply to anyone it will be from that acc. 

“Oho, our guest of honor,” said an old man who at first glance seemed quite weak and something about him made me too uncomfortable. Still not knowing what to do, I paralyzed. I felt a tightness in my chest and began to try to breathe more deeply so that I could get rid of the sensation. My pulse raced and my vision blurred for a few seconds. Suddenly I felt nauseous and... “Introduce yourself to everyone,” said a woman who was next to the old man. She was very beautiful, but just like my mother, she seemed to have an intimidating aura about her. Her brown hair with touches of copper was tied like a crown, giving her an elegant but imposing image. She was wearing a long royal blue dress that looked like it was made with chiffon and it fitted her figure very well. Her skin was fair, but she looked slightly tanned, making the dress she was wearing more prominent. I quickly swallowed my nausea and focused completely on that woman. Then I took a deep breath in an attempt to regulate my breathing and mentally began to relax the muscles in my body. When I felt more stable, I straightened my posture and put on me the mask that my mother had taught me to use since I was little. So no one could see through me. Doing that I gave the impression that I was better than everyone around me. I didn't know if it would work so well for me in this case, but it was my best defense mechanism at the moment. I put on a straight face and let everything flow. “Good morning to everybody. My name is Y/N L/N. I don't know what I've come here for but I honor you with my presence,” I intentionally put on a haughty face, just like the one my mother used to put in front of everyone to demonstrate her authority. I saw that they were all serious looking at me, again, and I felt that my facade would soon be broken, until I heard a delicate laugh and turned to see where it was coming from. “Ahh she's adorable,” said a woman's voice. When I found out who was the owner of the voice, I saw a very beautiful woman, with blond hair, blue eyes and prominent breasts. I deduced that she would be Aphrodite from her beauty and her bright aura. “Is she the one everyone was talking about? I was expecting someone different. She is clearly a weakling,” commented with a malicious tone another woman next to whom I assumed was Aphrodite. Her hair was a shade between navy blue and black, it was long and loose in waves. She had white skin that made her turquoise eyes shine. The woman was wearing a dress the color of her eyes, loose and with a single strap, I noticed that it was a bit transparent but nothing really was showing. At her waist was a golden bow that enhanced her figure. I didn't know who she was, but something told me that it was best to stay away from her. Her eyes showed danger and I didn't feel like invoking the wrath of a Goddess. However, her publicly calling me weak had annoyed me. I felt a tingling creep up my back as I tried to calm myself down. I would gain nothing by confronting her. Also, I assumed I was no match for her. It was best to continue without making a scene with her, or with the other Gods. “Careful Thetis, remember why she has been invited and also why you are here,” I heard a deep voice speak. I turned around a bit and saw him. He was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. But before getting a better look at his face, my gaze immediately fell on something that covered his right eye. It looked like a patch but he also looked tougher than one. I wondered why he would use it, maybe he lost his eye in a battle. “Of course, Lord Hades, but I don't consider her worthy of our respect nor time. She is a mere mortal. She’s weak and imperfect. I really don't understand how everyone agreed to bring her,” the so-called Thetis answered. I felt the gaze of the God Hades on me and unconsciously held my breath. As if that made me invisible to his eyes. I looked back at him still without breathing and suddenly I saw a slight smile on the corner of his lips. Soon I felt the blood rush to my head and I didn't know if it was from that smile or the lack of air. He looked away and turned his head as if he were addressing someone. At that moment I was able to breathe out. “She looks like a good option to me, don't you think, Poseidon?” Hades spoke aloud to his right. I turned my gaze to the God on the right, whom Hades had spoken to. And suddenly I held my breath again. Hades was handsome, but this other God was without a doubt the most attractive man— God of them all. The beauty of him was beyond my words to describe. I wouldn't do him justice. His golden hair fell over his face in light waves. He had eyes the color of the ocean, so clear and deep at the same time that I felt I was lost in them. A straight nose and full lips, both had the perfect proportion for his face. I noticed that said God was looking to the side and I felt a hint of disappointment knowing that he had not looked at me. Hades referred to him as Poseidon, so I knew he was the King of the Sea. I lowered my eyes a little to stop seeing him directly and I noticed that his outfit exposed his chest and abdomen. I could see every hardened muscle and I felt the blood rush to my head again so I abruptly turned and faced the old man and the woman from the start again. I saw how the old man looked me up and down and I felt the nausea return. Apparently, the woman herself realized this because she glared at the old man. “Heh he, of course it's a good option. In fact, I wouldn’t understand if Poseidon will at least refuse to give her the opportunity, I think she can at least help him to keep him happy in bed—” “CAN'T YOU HOLD YOURSELF FOR AT LEAST ONE DAY?” The woman yelled annoyed—. “Zeus, I swear that if—” “Easy Hera, I wouldn't do anything to her. She is already reserved for my fearsome older brother, isn't it, Poseidon?” He said playfully as he turned to see the King of the Sea. Poseidon made no reply, nor did he move. He seemed more bored than anything with everything that was happening. Suddenly I registered in what Zeus and Hera said. They were treating me like an object. An object that apparently belonged to Poseidon. And according to Zeus' insinuations, I… No. I was not going to allow myself to be treated like this, I was not going to be. I started looking for an exit but apparently the door through which I entered at the beginning was also the only exit from the place, and the door remained closed. Hermes was in front of it as if protecting it. He gave me another of his mocking smiles. Well, there was no easy way out of here. I turned around and saw how Hades got up from his seat. “Thanks to your comments out of place Zeus, and your null reaction Poseidon, I'm sure what Miss Y/N most want right now is to get out of here,” he said as he walked towards me. “Poseidon, remember what we talked about,” he put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards him. “Pathetic,” I heard the voice of the Sea King for the first time. It was deep but not as much as Hades’ voice and I thought I heard a touch of scratch at the end, “all of this is useless, a waste of time.” “Oh? Well, if you really don't think you need her then I'll take her away,” Hades replied. I felt his gaze on me and how he pressed a little more where he was holding me. “Oho, where are you taking her?” I heard Zeus say. Hades didn't take his eyes off me when he started to speak. “To my realm.” I immediately felt again the same dizziness that I had when Hermes took us to Valhalla. Before I could do anything, the dizziness stopped and I felt like Hades let go of me little by little, as if he thought that I would fall without him stopping to grab me. When I felt balanced, he walked away and he motioned for me to follow. I started walking behind him. We were in a hallway with dark marble walls. Suddenly I got cold. “I would like to apologize for everything that happened a few moments ago. My brothers have some… unique ways of treating others.” I did not know if I should answer, although he was the only one who didn’t make me feel uncomfortable and less than everyone in that place, he was still a God, and not just anyone, he was the King of the Underworld. I knew many stories about him where he was completely ruthless and enjoyed being so. “Heh, I'm not going to bite you. You can tell me what you think. I promise no one will hurt you in here,” he told me, interrupting my thoughts. I had to speed up my pace since he advanced very fast, of course, he was very tall and his steps were longer than mine. “Why did they bring me to Valhalla?” I asked him with difficulty trying to keep up with his walking pace. Apparently, he realized this and slowed his pace. “To know you.” An answer that didn't tell me anything. “What did they want to meet me for?” “Who is she?” I heard a voice behind and when I turned, I saw a woman standing a few meters behind us. Hades turned as well, and I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. At this the woman narrowed her eyes as if the act bothered her. I watched her. Her hair was a golden hue with light pink highlights, reaching below her shoulder. Her eyes were jade green and I saw that all her features were delicate. She wore a dress up to a little before the knee and with a V-neckline. And finally, simple heeled sandals that made her legs shapely. “She is Miss Y/N and she will be our guest for today, my dear Persephone,” Hades replied. I almost choked on my own saliva after hearing that. Persephone. Hades' wife. The Queen of the Underworld was in front of me, and her husband kept holding my shoulder. I tried to get away, but Hades tightened his hold on me. Suddenly her face was playful and she started walking towards us. “Ahh, she’s the one who they were looking for. I understand. But what is she doing here? Don't tell me you stole her from him.” “No,” he said and started walking back to where we were supposed to go from the beginning. “Poseidon was unmoved and the others were making her uncomfortable, I decided to bring her here to calm her down. I could feel her nerves every time they spoke to her or when she saw someone new.” I blushed at his statement. So, I didn’t quite hide how I felt. Still, I was grateful that he got me out of that place. “I see… well, how about we have fun together for a bit?” Persephone commented and I could hear some malice in her voice. Hades stopped and turned to look at his wife as if warning her. “Don't you ever touch her, darling. I promised not to hurt her. Also, I'm sure my brother will come for her and I don't plan on taking responsibility if something happens to her.” “But we won't hurt her, we'll just play and—” “Persephone,” Hades said in a stern tone. Persephone pursed her lips, turned around, and left. I didn't move, but I felt the need to say something. “I'm sorry, because of me your wife is upset. If you tell me the way to return home I will leave as soon as possible,” I commented trying to see if I could finally return to my home. Hades just looked at me. “Hmm? Don't worry, it wasn't your fault,” he said in a nonchalant tone and kept walking. I decided to follow him without mentioning anything else. We soon came to a door which Hades opened. Inside I could see what looked like a simple room but with furniture and decorations that would surely be worth more than my entire house. Everything about the room was in bleak tones but it looked elegant. “Rest. No one can enter here so you will be safe. Dinner will be served in a few hours. I'll send someone for you to have dinner with us,” he told me and before I could answer him, he turned around and closed the door delicately. It seemed like I had no choice. I went to bed and lay down. It was very soft and the sheets were silk. I took off my heels and settled onto my side. Suddenly my body felt tired and little by little I fell asleep. I woke up scared and sweat ran down my body. I didn't have time to process what I had dreamed of when I heard screams outside the room where I was. No, they were not screams, it was just someone speaking out loud. As if it was giving orders. My curiosity made me jump out of bed and open the bedroom door. In front of me was a hard chest and a scent like salt came to my nose. I looked up and saw Poseidon's face. This time he was staring at me. He was frowning and I wondered what had pissed him off. Or who. “We're leaving, human,” he said dryly. “Heh? Where are we going?” I replied with some agitation. To be frankly, he scared me quite a bit. Hades was in the middle of the corridor, as if that would prevent Poseidon from passing him. “Poseidon, stay for dinner. I asked to make a special menu thinking that you would be joining us.” “Move, Hades,” he answered. Hades sighed loudly and made room for him to pass. “Fine. But treat her well, in the palace everyone—” “She'll be fine as long as she doesn't decide to get in trouble or be a nuisance,” Poseidon interrupted as he walked unhurriedly. I knew that was my cue to follow him so I started walking after him when I noticed I wasn't wearing my heels. I wanted to tell Poseidon to wait for me to put them on but suddenly he was next to me. He took me by the waist and for the third time in a day I felt the dizziness that the transfer of The Gods provided. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, I saw that we were in another palace. With gold, blue, white and some green ornaments. It was beautiful. I saw how The God was ahead of me and I ran until I caught up with him. “Where are we? Why have you brought me here?” for a moment I thought he was going to take me back to my home. At this point, I just wanted to go back. Poseidon did not answer me and continued walking into the corridors of the palace, with me only a few steps behind. I was about to tell him to take me home when a voice stopped me. “What is she doing here?” Said an angry voice. When I turned, I saw a tall woman with golden hair. She had blue eyes fuelled with anger, high cheekbones and her lips were slightly turned down, obviously her face told me how upset she was. Poseidon didn't stop to answer her and kept walking. Again, I had to run to get to where he was. At that the woman got angrier. “What is she doing here?” She asked again but now in a higher tone. The God stopped and I also along with him. “Amphitrite, watch how you speak,” he said to the Goddess as a warning but didn’t turn around to face her. Suddenly I saw a hint of concern pass over her face and I was pleased to see her reaction. “My apologies, My Lord. I was surprised to see the human in this place, infecting it with her disgusting mortal dirt” she spatted and I saw her gaze fell on mine and noticed her hatred towards me. I clenched my fists and bit my tongue to avoid responding to something that would likely raise her anger. I noticed a haughty smile from her side and saw that she was looking down at me, as if I were someone inferior— which I technically was because she was a Goddess and I was mortal, but her seeing me that way generated a wave of fury within me. “Come, human,” Poseidon said and I had to force myself not to answer anything to the Goddess. I turned around and kept walking. Soon we came to a room with double doors that The God opened without having to touch them. Divine magic, I supposed. I saw him come in and followed him into the room. When I entered, I looked around and it seemed as if we were in an office. There was a large white desk in the center, it looked as if it had glass in some places. Behind it was a huge chair that at first glance gave the impression of being very comfortable. In front was a large low table, in the same style as the desk, and around it were several chairs just as comfortable as the one at the desk, but smaller in comparison. On the walls were shelves with books, some paintings, and everything seemed to be in perfect order. Above us lay a golden chandelier with white and blue crystals adorning it as if they were cascading down. The God sat in the large chair behind the desk and took a couple of documents out of one of the drawers. He started reading them while I was still standing by the door. I felt ignored, but at that moment I would rather be ignored than have the full attention of the man in front of me. “Your mother sent the documents. However, until everything agreed is delivered, the deal will not be closed,” he said without turning to look at me. I didn't know what he was talking about, why would my mother send them documents? What kind of documents? I was completely lost, and apparently this was the fault of some feat of my mother. “Pardon me, I don't know what documents you are talking about and I'm not aware of any deal either, could you explain?” I asked him with some fear towards the answer, and towards his reaction. Apparently, this God didn’t usually have a good mood. I got no response from him. He kept going through the papers and I kept standing not knowing what to do. I started to feel my pulse race. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and seconds later it opened. Hermes entered where we were and the door closed behind him. “Lord Poseidon, I have come to take Miss Y/N back to her house. We agreed to return her in the evening. She will be back by tomorrow afternoon.” I was relieved when I heard that I was finally going home, but my heart fell to my feet when I knew I would have to go back. That was not mentioned by my mother. “Why ... why do I have to come back?” I asked on a whisper. At this, the God dressed in black looked at me and gave me one of his smiles to which I had already become accustomed. “Because that was the deal that was agreed with your mother,” he replied maliciously, as if he knew it would affect me. And he was not wrong. “What deal? I'm not aware of anything, explain it to me” I said quickly. I felt a swirl of emotions under my skin. "My, my. And I thought you were just like a scared kitten. Very good, I'll explain quickly. Pay attention that I'm not going to repeat it, human,” I prepared myself for whatever was to come. “Your mother has something that we want, in exchange for it, she asked us for you to be married with some God and that she also be allowed to ascend as Goddess and enjoy the privileges of us,” Hermes explained. It was something easy to understand but my brain couldn't process it. I refused to believe everything I heard. “So, do I have to marry someone here for you all to get whatever my mother has?” I asked to make sure I understood correctly. The part of my mother did not matter to me, if she wanted to be one of them was up to her. But getting me into this was... “Hmp,” Hermes agreed with a nod. “I guess you know how to use your brain after all.” I ignored the last part. "But why should I be in all this? I didn't ask to be married to someone,”— I remembered what I jokingly told my father before I came: or I can get a husband. I figured words do have power. “I don't want to, I refuse.” “Human, you are in no position to argue on this. Everything is agreed. Be quiet or I'll force you to,” I heard Poseidon say. I felt my blood boil and turned to face him. “I don't have to follow your orders!” I said aloud. I saw his eyebrow furrow and decided to take a deep breath to calm myself down a bit. “You also have no right to tell me what I can or cannot do. You are nobody to me. I don't care that you're a God at all,” I told him as I lifted my chin and looked down at him. That did not seem to please him because he gave me a cold look. “Oh, but I think he is indeed someone to you,” I heard Hermes say behind me. “What do you mean?” I replied over my shoulder. “Of course, he's your fiancé after all.” I was speechless. I didn't know how many times this day I had stayed like this. I looked back at Poseidon and noticed that he was staring at me, like he was studying me. Then I saw how his gaze traveled over my body. I didn't remember the dress I was wearing. I had the urge to want to cover my breasts but forced myself to stay still, upright and keeping my gaze on him. I assumed he was studying whether I was good enough to be his wife, although that didn't matter to me at all. I didn't want him as my partner. It was clear that he hated me and I was only afraid of him. Then he looked away and focused on a specific point to his right. I felt tears of helplessness fill my eyes. “I don't want this,” I said pathetically. “It is what it is, human. Accept it,” answered the God of the Sea without looking at me again. “Many would like your place Miss Y/N. Feel lucky,” Hermes said, “besides, there's nothing you can do now. Your fate has been sealed. Now come closer to me so I can take you home.” Without more to say and feeling defeated I approached him. While I couldn't do anything in front of them, that didn't mean I couldn't create chaos once I got home with my mother. I wanted to make her clear that I would not lend me to her tricks. That I was not a tradeable item for her benefit. Once I was close enough to Hermes, he took me by the arm and again transported us from one place to another. Suddenly I saw the door of my house. I walked over to it but felt like he was still grabbing my arm. I turned and Hermes was still in his place. “Tomorrow I will pick you up again in the afternoon. Your duty is to be ready without making a scandal” he warned me and then released me. I didn't say anything and walked to the front door of the house. I rang the bell as I didn't have my keys with me. I still felt the presence of the God behind me but I refused to turn around. I heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and knew it was my father. He was the one I saw once the door opened. At that moment I stopped feeling the God behind. I walked inside the house and before my father said anything, I was ahead of him. “Where is my mother?” “In the bedroom resting. It's late so we had dinner without you, but I saved a portion for you. It’s on the table,” he answered to me softly. I did not wait any longer to go to my parents' bedroom, I opened the door with a bang and saw how my mother looked at me threateningly as if telling me not to start anything with her eyes. “Why have you sold me to the Gods?” I asked her. At that moment I felt tears fall down my cheeks and I couldn't take it anymore; I collapsed and heard my father's footsteps behind.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[littlegodzilla]

Halloween's Night DarylxFemReader +18

Halloween Night.

Daryl Dixon x FemReader.

Warning: M, Smut, +18, ABO references, Knot thing.

N/A: Halloween story so we'll have costumes and monsters! I love werewolves stuff and I added my own imagination to this I mixed all and this is the result!

Summary: You're new on Woodbury town, but you know all the gossips about Daryl Dixon, but you don't think that he's so dangerous like they say… or maybe yes?

(Sorry I forgot it)Taglist: @purple-serenity @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc

You arrived in Woodbury about six months ago, you are still new there, but in a town of barely two thousand people, you know everyone quite easily. You left home in search of a new opportunity, something stable and away from everything you knew with the intention of starting a new life and there, in Woodbury, you were getting there. Your medical and veterinary studies helped you get a job as the assistant to the town veterinarian, Hershel Greene, a man on the verge of retirement, with a good heart and infinite patience. He taught you all the basics of what he did there, with the neighbors' pets, the surrounding farms and the wild animals that fell into the poachers' traps.

That's how you met Daryl Dixon. A rather reserved, grumpy man who lived with a frown and tight lips. He was the town's ranger, living away from the city, in a nice cabin that he had well prepared to use as a home, as well as to have his office and a veterinary area for when Hershel had to deal with some emergency intervention.

The first impression Dixon gave you was of an elusive man, he didn't seem dangerous, but he didn't like dealing with other people. When you asked around town about him you were soon accosted by a million speculations about him; dangerous, weird, wild, even the older locals said Daryl Dixon was cursed. To you he just seemed like an introvert, that all those rumors had caused him to move away from the town himself to be left alone. Hershel for his part didn’t have a specific opinion of him, he always commented that he had known him since he was a child, that he had always been surly and reserved, but that deep down he was a good man who cared about his people and the forest, which was part of him.

So that morning you dared to ask him, you were in autumn, coming to the end of October and Halloween was taking over the streets of Woodbury. Being a small town the main street had become a huge house of terror, decorated by all the neighbors, decorating the streets and the houses themselves to give it a more terrifying touch, for the children and not children to enjoy. You weren't really into that sort of thing, but you saw it as an opportunity to offer Daryl a plan outside of work. You never saw the Ranger around town, sometimes he would come by with his van to pick up some stuff or with his motorcycle, but he never went into town for a long time, so with the excuse of Halloween and ‘Trick and Treat’ thing, maybe you could propose a scary movie marathon night and scare the kids who came to your house for treats.

As you got to know the locals and worked with both Hershel and Daryl, more curious you became about the latter. Physically Daryl was an imposing man, not very tall for the average man of his age, but he had an aura of mystery and danger that always surrounded him, you weren’t sure if it was because of his serious gesture, all that hair always covering much of his eyes and face or it was more because of the scars that ran across his face. Once the vet told you that the man had been in a fight with a bear and that the scars were due to that, but you didn't take it seriously either.

Hershel had delegated you to take care of some of the farm animals and to check up on the clinic Daryl had at the cabin. The man believed that being relatively similar in age, the man would feel more comfortable having you around, making friends for once. You liked the idea too, you had friends in Woodbury and got along well with your neighbors, but you didn't want Daryl to be alone either. Talking to him for the first time was like hitting a wall. The times you had gone to the cabin with Hershel the two men had talked comfortably while you just paid attention, but when you started going on your own, he just ignored your existence. It surprised you at first, but that didn't make you give up. Every time you arrived at the cabin you greeted him politely, he would respond with a grunt, which gradually started to turn into a low greeting, a nod and even in the last few months you could discover a small smile on his mouth. Whenever you arrived at the office, he was always there going through his papers and helping you place the new products you brought him. Little by little your conversations were pleasant and pleasant, not extended as the man was rather sparing with words, but at least you were no longer talking to the walls and sometimes you could even hear him joking.

Because you had started to like him and wanted to get to know him a little better. So when you finished restocking the man's first aid kit at the cabin clinic you plucked up the courage to ask.

"Hey, Daryl, do you have any plans for next week?" You glanced sideways at him seeing that he was watching you through his bangs. He bit his lip and shook his head with a shrug.

“Workin' I guess… why?”

“uhm no, nothing… it's just… Halloween's night is coming and I wonder if you want to do something special that night…” You insist, feeling your cheeks redden. Daryl is silent for a moment. He stands up leaving a box of expired medications in the bucket you've brought, helping you rearrange things in the office. He looks at you and through his bangs you see a glint of gold in his left eye.

“I thought yer going to the Mayor’s party.” He says finally.

“No… they insisted but I don't like to much those parties so… I'll stay at home watching horror movies so… If you want…” You look at him again but he isn't looking at you in return, he seems on his thoughts ignoring you again.

You haven't insisted again, clearly he isn’t comfortable with the idea of going into town let alone spending a night watching old horror movies that really aren't scary at all. You've never handled fear well, since you were little you've hated scary movies or avoided them as much as possible, so you always look for old movies, from the 70's-80's that special effects are fit for your sensitive nerves.

Halloween night arrives faster than you expect, you have managed to decorate the house to the same height as your neighbors, not without help; you have prepared a huge bowl of candy for when the kids come to beg at your house, you bought a costume, the least provocative you could find, you’re sure that the party at the town hall isn’t suitable for children and there people will go wild, it’s another reason why you don't want to go to the party, alcohol and sexual desperation isn’t what you need right now. You put on your Little Red Riding Hood dress, a tiny dress with a red cape, put on some black stockings so you don't feel so exposed, even though you're at home and your slippers. You aren’t certainly the eroticism in person right now, but since you're spending the night alone, you don't care. You leave the kitchen leaving the bowl of candy by the door and go to the living room where you leave your popcorn, candy bars and a coke. You prepare your movie marathon and settle down on the couch and grab some popcorn.

You aren’t even half an hour into the movie when you hear the doorbell ring. Well, apparently the kids are already out on the streets. You pause the movie and shake your hands adjusting the short skirt of your dress. You should have worn one of your pajamas, you'd be much more comfortable. You grab the bowl with the candy and pull the hood over your head before opening the door with a huge smile.

"Hello, children...!" you fall silent because in front of you there is no child, rather a grown man who looks at you curiously, he even seems to have a mocking grimace on his mouth. "Daryl! You finally came!" You say excitedly and now more than ever your miniskirt makes you uncomfortable.

"Ya said scary movies so...I couldn't say no." There's that little tease in the smile that plays across his face and you smile wider. You step aside and let him in.

Your eyes widen as you see, for the first time, completely the scar on his face. You can almost tell that it really does look like a bear claw that runs down the left side of his face, from his hairline, all the way down to his jaw. He has his bangs and some of his hair pulled back in a small ponytail, leaving his face exposed. You're cut off because he has one eye of each color, the right one blue, the left one amber. Daryl feels your gaze on him and shrugs lifting his hands, you look at his gesture and laugh as you discover some hideous clawed gloves.

"Yer the Little Red Riding Hood and I'm the big bad wolf." He scoffs and you laugh at it.

"Good point." You smile and close the door walking in the living room with the man.

Again you look at him, he's only wearing the fake gloves and he lets his scars show to give him a more sinister look, however, he's wearing a black long sleeved sweater and jeans with his hiking boots. You point to the couch and he smiles at you sitting on one of the free sides. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a beer and set it down on the table in front of the couch and sit down next to him. Daryl steps back a little giving you space and grabs the beer you brought giving it a long drink.

"I thought you said you were working.”

“I'm always workin'” He shrugs and leaves the beer on the table. “But ya said somethin’ about a horror movies marathon so… I couldn’t resist.” He smiles a little and you do the same.

"Good, then make yourself comfortable and enjoy." You offer and hit play again to let the movie run its course.

After several hours between movies and handing out candy, your gaze shifts to Daryl. You're watching the Werewolf movie and the brown-haired man looks uncomfortable, even bored. He bites his lower lip and rubs his hand across his chin, thoughtfully. Maybe the scary movie idea hadn't been the best idea and the ranger was starting to get bored. You bite your lip searching for an alternative in your mind and clears your throat getting his attention.

"Do you want to go to the mayor's party?" You propose and he frowns slightly.

"Why? I thought the idea of watchin’ scary movies was yers."

"And it is, but... you seem to be bored and I don't want to..." you stutter not knowing how to find the words.

"I'm fine. I don't think they want me at that party. Besides I ain’t wearing a very elaborate costume." He tries to joke and you laugh quietly nodding your head, understanding what he means.

"That's okay, in that case we can switch movies if this one bored you." You offer him another alternative and he shakes his head. His gaze bores into you and his eyes shine with an intense hue.

"No, it's just that I've realized that movies aren't very scary." He raises an eyebrow and you redden playing nervously with the skirt of your dress, Daryl's eyes watch your movements and his nostrils flare inhaling your scent. He closes his eyes for a second to let out a growl that catches your attention. "I thought you were a fan of Halloween."

"And I like it, but I don't handle scares well..." You confess still with your cheeks flushed. "But they're movie classics, that's a point in my favor, isn't it?" you try to joke and bite your lip. Daryl notices your gesture and smiles nodding.

"Yeah, yer secret's safe." He jokes again and you let out a giggle.

"I was going to bring you a beer now." You tell him holding up both hands. Daryl nods biting his lip and walks towards you, slowly.

Your coke and his beer are gone again, so you get up going to the kitchen again, this time you grab two beers. You feel your heart racing a little, you aren’t sure if it's because of the sugar in your body or knowing that Daryl would rather spend the night with you than a party, or alone in his cabin. You smile opening both bottles feeling your heart beat faster again and you’re ready to go back to the living room, however you’re startled to discover Daryl leaning against the door frame, watching you.

Again his bangs fall over his eyes hiding his peculiarity eyes and scars, the rubber is on his wrist, he has taken off his gloves, but from your position, his fingernails look particularly long. You smile nervously in an attempt to take control of your mind again. Clearly the day, and the movies, are taking over your sanity.

"Thanks, I was comin' in case ya needed help with anythin'."

"No, but if you want me to fix something for dinner...I didn't really ask you if I wanted to eat anything more solid than some popcorn..." It dawns on you and again you feel embarrassed by your awkwardness.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." He assures you by stopping right in front of you. You look up and through his bangs, his eyes sparkle unnaturally and something stirs inside you, causing his smile to widen. "Y'know, I think yer hiding more secrets..." His voice sounds husky, dark, his arms folded across his chest, hands hidden under his armpits.

"Secrets?" you mumble averting your gaze, wanting him not to notice what is going on in your mind. "Everyone has secrets..."

"Yeah, sure... but this is different..." He slowly advances towards you and when you want to be aware, his body has trapped you against the kitchen counter. "I smell ya..." He growls in your ear in a low tone and you flinch looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Excuse me?" You left the beers on the counter and pull away him slightly to look into his eyes and you feel a twinge in your head.

"The first time we met I didn't notice...ya hid it well, but I guess it's not exactly you." He watches you closely and you grow more and more confused. "Something's blocking yer memories, isn't it?"

"W... What are you talking about?"

"About what ya really are..." Daryl lifts a hand and pushes your hair aside tucking it behind your ear. His eyes flash once more and you feel the pain in your head increase. "Something or someone blocked your past, what happened, did your pack cast you out, did you rebel against them, why are you here?”

"I... I came looking for an opportunity... Daryl if it's a weird role play, I don’t..." You try to joke but the ranger growls and your body shudders. You close your eyes feeling Daryl brush his nose against your hair, his body getting closer and closer, the heat he gives off giving you goosebumps. You gasp giving thanks that you've left the drinks out of your reach or else they'd be on the floor by now.

"It's not a game, but certainly what they've done to you is a bitch." One of his hands runs down your arm and your breath catches in your lungs as he holds you tightly by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. Fear grips you for a second, remembering all the warnings your neighbors had given you. "Yer too young, that's for sure... Ya went into heat and yer pack left ya behind?" he repeats and his grip loosens enough for you to breathe.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about... Daryl, you're scaring me." You stutter and he smiles. He shakes his head just enough for the bangs to clear his gaze and again his two-colored eyes bore into you.

"I can make you remember, girl, if that's what you want...but it will be painful." His voice drops a tone and his gaze glows dangerously. "Look at me." He commands you and unable to disobey you pin your gaze on him. Unknowing, your eyes react with a golden glow, just like his, and his smile widens. "That's right... a young Omega exiled from her pack. You certainly made someone very angry."

"That's not funny, Daryl, let me go, please..." You stir in his grip and he loosens his hand on your neck a little, letting it drop to rest on the countertop. You breathe calmly again and feel your body tremble. You should have listened to the people of Woodbury from the first moment. "I want you to leave, please." You ask in a trembling voice, not daring to look at him.

"I'll leave, but first I'm going to show you something..." his voice turns into an animalistic growl as he finishes the sentence. You lift your head and are horrified about what you see.

Daryl's body grows, he becomes much taller, much more burly and hair takes over all his skin, his arms, on both sides of your body, widen and his hands become huge, sharp claws scratching the surface of the countertop you are leaning on. Its face stretches into an animal snout and he shakes himself like a dog. The traces of human clothing and appearance disappear completely from him, in front of you, a huge wolf rears up on two powerful hind legs, his eyes, one of each color watch you, glowing, the scar creased along his muzzle and his teeth, sharp and lethal show menacingly in a snarl. Your heart stops and you feel like you are about to faint. Something activates inside you as his nose brushes your cheek, sniffing you intensely, snatching a purr you are unable to control. He moans low.

"Run." He growls in a bark and before you're aware of what's happening, your body has bolted out the back door of your house, taking you deep into the woods. Daryl howls shaking off the last drop of human sanity he had left and his body propels forward, running after you.

You are scared to death. Instinctively you've run towards the Greene’s farm, but you've veered off course thinking about what they might do against Daryl. The man had transformed in front of you into that huge being, it was clear that they were no match for him. You feel like you're trapped in an old horror movie, running from the murderous maniac who is probably already on your heels. Your second choice is Daryl's cabin, he has guns there for the hunters, maybe you can get your hands on one of them and stand up to him. You feel like he's playing with you, hunting you slowly, giving you a chance to escape but not really letting you go completely. You stop in the middle of the trees with your breath hitching and your heart about to burst out of your chest. You hear a growl not far from where you are and turn on your heels in search of that monster.

"Daryl Dixon is cursed..." You hear the old women's voices in your head.

"Don't be fooled, it's dangerous..."

"Somethin’ is blocking yer past..." Now Daryl's voice rattles your brain. "I smell ya... a young Omega exiled…”

You shake your head and hug yourself. You don't know what he meant by that, but he's wrong. You are a human, you left home of your own free will, to seek your own luck. No one forced you to leave, no one erased your memories. You aren’t a monster.

"Ya made the mistake of comin’ to the cabin in heat..." Daryl's voice is heard through the trees and you turn around looking for him. You can see his human silhouette, moonlight shining on his nakedness. Right now the last thing you care about is that he's naked in front of you.

"Guess it's somethin’ ya don't know why happens to ya..." He slowly advances back towards you, his hands and feet, dirty from running through the forest you can even appreciate a soft film of sweat on his skin. You frown as a scent hits your nose and gasp in surprise when you realize it's coming from him. It’s a wild, pure smell, a mixture of sweat, earth, something more intense, hot, that you can't decipher, his pheromones are attracting you in any animal courtship. You gasp as you feel your body start to react to him, your underwear getting wet and the heat starts to become more intense in your own body. He growls in the distance.

"It ain’t the first time it's happened to ya, right? Feelin’ that heat, that need, guess it was manifestin’ before yer period and so ya didn't make a big deal of it, like an effect of yer hormones... even though that's basically what it is." He goes on and laughs through his nose, you feel embarrassed, the last thing you expected that night was to talk with Daryl Dixon about your hormonal cycle.

"Why do you keep insisting...? I... I'm not like you..." You stammer and take a few steps back. "Don't hurt me, please, I'll leave, I won't tell anyone about you..."

"Do ya really think anyone would believe ya?" he asks you mockingly. "I'm not going to hurt ya. I didn't show myself to ya for that." He assures you and walks until he stands in front of you, your body trapped between his body and a tree trunk.

"Daryl..." You gasp and are surprised when his mouth girdles over yours. You struggle to react, you didn't expect Daryl to do that, at this moment, maybe kill you and then eat you, but certainly not kiss you. His mouth doesn't assert itself either, he simply glues his lips to yours. As if that might relax things. Maybe at another time it would, but when his hand girdles itself around your neck again, all your alarms go on again.

He pulls away from your mouth to look into your eyes, his eyes glow brighter than before, no longer hiding what he is, his long nails break the skin on your neck, you groan in pain. Panic fills your gaze again, but the werewolf seems very calm.

"Look at me, listen to my voice." He commands you, something in your mind tingles and you feel the involuntary desire to obey. "I ain't care where you come from, but remember…” His voice asserts itself again and that essence you had picked up earlier hits you hard again.

As if it were a trigger, your mind opens. Something inside you expands and you open your mouth in a mute gasp. Your eyes take on a bright golden color reflective of your true nature and Daryl steps back a few paces watching you react. Memories come back to your mind, your old pack, your Omega gender, how they got rid of you because they believed it would make them weak, how you got there totally lost, your mind clouded in your memories, everything you thought you knew about yourself fitting in with your true past.

You hear Daryl move and you raise your head alert. The man is waiting for you, he knows what's coming now. A growl is born from your throat as your body stretches, the disguise you wear ends up in tatters, hair takes over your entire body, your muscles widen and your face stretches transforming into a snout. Howling, Daryl imitates you, transformed too, raised on his hind legs, hands in fists and an obvious defiant gesture shining in his eyes. You lunge at him, he blocks your blow and knocks you to the ground. There are growls, bites are thrown into the air, your nails pierce skin, whimpers of pain and some threatening barking. The two of you are struggling to dominate the other, and at the same time Daryl is just playing with you, because he knows that your status as Omega doesn't allow you to really hurt him. The moment he gets bored or your control is in danger, he will give a clear command over you and you will be his. That's how this works. And you both know it.

"Enough, Omega." His voice vibrates in your ear and you open your eyes wide.

The unnatural glow in them slowly fades as your body shifts back to your human form. Daryl shifts as you do, his arm around your neck from behind, his body completely draped over yours. Your skin aches and stings from the bites and scratches you've given each other, but it's a sensation that quickly fades into the background as Daryl's hard cock rubs against your wet folds and you moan with need. Daryl moves next to you, just enough to settle you on the forest floor, just enough for the tip of his cock to press against the entrance to your vagina and penetrate you in a single thrust. A moan escapes your mouths, Daryl feels you tighten around his cock as he tries to go deep inside you, you gasp and moan low feeling his passage dilate and stretch you, each time he moves his hips against you. You move against his grip and he grunts in your ear again to keep you still.

“Don’t…” He grunts and lifts one of yours legs moving his hips against you again, the new angle makes him go deeper inside you and you moan archering your back in pleasure.

“Daryl…!”

You feel him slowly pull out of you, then thrust hard again until he is completely inside you. You moan and your nails dig into the floor and into the arm around your shoulders, keeping you glued to his chest. You feel Daryl curse under his breath and start to move faster and faster, in and out, thrusting deeper and deeper, stretching your walls, enveloping you in a strong sense of pleasure despite your body being sore from the fight you've had recently. Daryl's hips thrust harder and harder behind you, he becomes fast and erratic, clearly reaching the edge of his own pleasure. Pausing for a second he settles your body under his again, encompassing you completely, pressing your body against the blanket of leaves and dirt of the forest.

“Yer mine now…” He says with a husky voice, he bites your ear and you gasp.

“Daryl, please!”

“I’m yer Alpha…”

“Yes! Please…!” You beg. “Please Alpha!”

The werewolf's voice becomes a guttural growl, like the beast he is, the base of his cock swells inside you, stretching the walls of your pussy unexpectedly. A scream escapes your mouth, you thrash about trying to pull away, but Daryl holds you to the floor and his teeth bury so hard into the skin on the back of your neck that it breaks. The scream turns into a moan of pleasure, the sensation of his teeth buried in your skin sends a wave of intense pleasure throughout your body triggering your own orgasm, squeezing you so hard around the werewolf's cock that he cums, filling you. Daryl feels the metallic taste of your blood in his mouth, stops gritting his teeth and pulls away just enough to lick the wound he has caused, but he doesn't get off you. In fact, neither of you are going to be able to move for a few minutes. The knot holds you together, but he does move to one side so that you are both more comfortable, he grimaces a little as he feels a tug on his cock as he moves, but he doesn't want to crush you. You finally feel your lungs fill with air again. You feel Daryl still inside you, his knot preventing his cock and cum from leaving you, the sensation is uncomfortable and pleasurable at the same time. You breathe erratically, your bodies covered in sweat and thin lines of blood, there is dirt on your hands and under your fingernails, the smell, the sound of the forest envelops you completely, even a fine cool night breeze gets your hair to bristle, Daryl feels it and hugs you against his chest, enveloping your body with his own warmth. You feel your head ache, the memories coming rushing back to your mind causing you to have a bit of a migraine. Daryl brushes his nose against your neck and kisses your shoulder.

"Easy, girl..." he murmurs against your skin, his hand making small circles over your waist.

"It's a little late to say that..." you try to joke and you feel him smirk at your back.

"It could’ve been worse, ya could’ve turned on me. We would’ve ended up very different." His voice rings with a timbre of menace and you shudder. If you hadn't accepted Daryl as your mate, he would have kicked you out of there, you might have even ended up one of the two of you dead from the fight.

"You know I couldn't refuse..." You whisper and feel your cheeks redden. You're not sure about it, but something inside you tells you that you came to Woodbury by following the werewolf's scent, though you hadn't been aware of it until now. "Hershel..." You try to ask, doubtful. "Does he know...?"

"No one knows what I am, what we are, there ain’t many wolves in Georgia either, my lineage ends with me..." He falls silent and you bite your lower lip knowing what you're both thinking.

"I am marked...I am yours now...Your bloodline will not die with you."

Daryl stands silently just behind you, his arm around your body resting his hand on your belly, caressing it meaningfully. You sigh feeling his knot slowly deflate, but neither of you move. The smell of the forest welcoming you to your true home.

I'll see you in the next story!

And that's it!

Happy Halloween!!

[okaybutlikeimagine]

A Father’s Day Triptych

TW: past/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, child neglect

(you can find it on AO3 here ♥)

Father’s day in the Hargrove household was always pulled taut with expectations of kindness and submission hanging over Billy’s head.

They didn’t always used to be that way. When he was a kid, Father’s days felt like a reprieve rather than a burden. Billy and his mom would prepare special things- a nice card that would make him laugh, those new fishing poles he’d been eyeing in the big sporting store a town over, a pretty cake with fresh fruit on top from the grocer down the way. His mother went all out. She’d get Billy all excited for it too. The strenuous relationships were softened for a day where they did everything they could to make him happy.

They really did… everything they could just to make him happy. Sometimes Billy still wonders why it had to take so much.

Around Father’s day, his mother would use all her spending money to make his father smile. It usually worked. And for that day, it was so good. It could hardly get better. Grilling and watching stupid baseball games Billy never cared about but would pretend to be interested in, just for him. Fake smiles almost became real. Hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon always tasted better on those days when his father would put his arm around Billy amicably- when he would laugh at the card and compliment how Billy’s penmanship was getting better every year.

The year that she left was the worst.

The year that she left Billy stopped getting an allowance. He had no money to soften the edges of his father with fresh cakes and fancy presents. He panicked. He stole a stupid fishing keychain from a store and made a card from his school notebook paper. He presented them with shaking hands to his father who seemed glued to the couch, eyes bloodshot, surrounded by beer cans, baseball game so loud Billy’s ears felt sore.

He got a grunt and a lazy eye roll in response. A slurred groan of “your writing is sloppy”. A quieter admission of regret.

He got resentment. Billy was 9 and he knew it was resentment towards his very existence. He slid away to his room. There was no dinner to eat that night as his father passed out on the couch with the TV still on far too loud.

When Susan and Max came into the picture, Billy miraculously found a reason to be happy for it. Suddenly there was pressure taken off of him. He let Max know it too, as Susan encouraged them to go out and “at least get him a card”. They’d lazily look through all the forcibly funny and generic pieces of paper. Max was nervous that first year.

“It’s whatever.” Billy had grunted, looking through ugly green cards with stupid phrases on them. “She’s gonna bang him tonight, he won’t care about a dumb card.”

“Ew.” Max had whined, covering her ears and pouting. Billy couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It was never fun. Billy felt like he was on a leash all day long, obligated to do everything he could for his father just to keep him civil. Susan made a steak, the kids handed over the card, his father remarked how his penmanship was the mark of someone lazy and sloppy (no matter how hard Billy would try to make it as neat as he possibly could), and the day would end. And he could stop thinking about how this man still had a hand in his life.

…

Father’s day in the Hopper household was always bumbling and awkward.

By the time that first one came around, Billy was just beginning to feel less like a burden to the house and more like an addition. He’d found comfort in the space they all shared. They had a sort of routine set between all of them. There was still no second bed for Billy, so he still felt like he was imposing when Hop slept on the couch, but it was a sort of pull out couch by that point and Hop insisted and Billy decided not to pay it too much mind.

And that first Father’s day was just… awkward. Billy had completely forgotten the date- summer had just started for him and days were rolling by in hot and languid and lazy moments of feeling out every new situation. He had just started getting really serious with Steve. Not just touching for the sake of getting off but really starting to need and want each other in ways that scared him. In ways that made him want to keep things how they were- ways that made him scared to change a thing. It was a new and alien feeling for him.

El had inadvertently learned about Father’s day from Mike when he briefly groaned about dinner plans his family had. Billy found that out from El on their drive to the store to pick something up for Hop. She had to convince Billy it was a thing they should do, because Hopper was their father. He did fatherly things for them. He took them in and gave them a roof and food and asked how their days were and wished them goodnight and good morning, however groggily. He made stupid jokes that made them moan and he danced horribly to the old records he kept on their dusty shelf and he was horrible with laundry and he whistled as he did dishes.

He introduced Billy proudly in the grocery store once. It was the weekend after Billy had a really good basketball game that Hop had decided to attend. Hop bragged about it to some friend of his. Billy flushed red and elbowed him and tried his best to escape.

He thought about it every single day.

Billy and El bought a large cheesy balloon, ingredients to make a nice lasagna dinner, and a green and white cake from the bakery. The balloon was more for El. The lasagna was a little burnt. Hop was too nice to say he’d have preferred pie to cake, but he ate it anyway as they sat around the TV and watched whatever program was on. Billy only remembered as he fell slowly into sleep that night. He jolted awake quickly, remembering a sort of far off conversation months ago where Hop had proclaimed confidently that pie was the superior dessert of anything else- yes, even Eggo's with whipped cream and sprinkles. How he admitted cake was never his favorite.

Billy felt shame overcome him as he remembered, pushing himself out of bed and turning to the sofa with the immediate want to apologize for it. He wasn’t sure what came over him.

But instead of sending pleading apologies into the darkness, he just looked towards the sofa with a heavily beating heart and let his eyes adjust. And he thought about all that man had done for the two of them. Thought about how he took in these two stray kids. Thought about how he knew Hop was getting flack for it, because Billy heard the whispers and the snickers and the sneers about Hop running a dog pound. Thought about how he gave up his probably comfier trailer for the rundown cabin, gave up the main bedroom for the dusty spare bed, gave up the dusty spare bed for the couch, gave up parts of his sanity probably…

Billy didn’t wanna apologize anymore. He just whispered a thanks, even though it was hard to push up through his throat and would fall onto sleeping ears.

The Father’s days after that first one got better. They got Joyce, and along with her 2 boys that had their own rocky past with fathers and celebrations of them. Just four kids who feared and resented father figures. It ended up being better than Billy could imagine. It was never quite as awkward as that first Father’s day, but never quite comfortable either. That being said, it was never a bad day. The bar was low, but that didn’t matter. Billy found appreciation for the general ease all the same.

…

Father’s day in the Hargrove-Harrington-”whatever we’re together now and that’s what’s most important” household is filled with guilt and feelings of imposter syndrome.

They don’t celebrate it the first two or so years after they’ve adopted their first child. He’s just a toddler, he doesn’t quite understand yet what it is. And they… they’re still struggling with what it means to be fathers. They’re confident in their rights but they’re not immune to the judgmental voices, always eyeing them oddly when they’re out together with their boy or asking after the mother when they’re out separately. Always looking a little judgmental or harsh when they have to explain why the kid doesn’t look like them- whoever is with him at the time. Or getting looks of pity when the people clearly begin to assume it’s because they couldn’t get pregnant with whatever wife must be at home.

It’s hard to hear. It makes them question everything. If their boy doesn’t know what he’s missing, then there’s no need to explain.

Billy calls Hopper and feels his heart lurch when Hop and Joyce wish him and Steve a happy father’s day. They do it with joy and certainty. As if it belongs to them, too. Billy hangs up the phone and lays in bed for at least half an hour. Steve can’t get through to him.

It’s an odd feeling. A rough feeling. When they adopt their second child, a girl of 9 years old, they know they’re going to have to confront it. Their son begins school that year too. They find out about the day from their friends and television ads and store windows. The children are timid with them- they were adopted as supposed “problem children” from rough homes and tumultuous pasts. Billy and Steve don’t expect anything of them but they’re still not sure how to explain that. They figure ignoring is easier than explaining. Maybe it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t work well.

And Billy… Billy’s just struggling being a dad. He couldn’t explain the job if he tried. He helps make lunches, he gives timeouts, he buys and subsequently sneaks himself some silly little snack foods when he’s hungry and busy and doesn’t have time to do more than rip open a pouch. He deals with tantrums over vegetables and he wipes mouths with napkins and he sings lullabies in the wrong key and he reads bedtime stories until he himself dozes off in the tiny bed with a small head on his chest and drool pooling onto his shirt.

He’s trying. He gets frustrated at stores. He gets a little hot headed, a little loud. His heart breaks when they cry. He’s straddling the line between being a pushover and a hard-ass. He lays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, dreading ever becoming like Neil. He asks Steve, in the stillness of the night when the darkness acts as the weight of every horrible outcome imaginable, if he’ll follow Neil’s wretched footsteps.

“You’ll never be like him, Billy.”

“How do you know? What if it’s inside me already.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it is… maybe I won’t be able to help it.”

He stresses and he struggles and he wants to rip his hair out.

But that first father’s day comes around with their new daughter and newly knowledgeable son. And the two children blunder around the kitchen while their two dads are asleep. And then they wake the two parents up, both teary eyed and breathing heavy, faces full of apology and sorrow, asking for help to clean up the mess.

And Billy and Steve find the kitchen a single step back from full on disaster. There’s juice all over the counter and dripping onto the floor, the cereal box is all soggy from it, the toaster is smoking, a plate is broken on the ground, the fridge is still open. Their daughter pulls on Billy’s pajama pants and holds out her finger that’s bleeding. He gets out of her that she somehow managed to cut it on the butter knife she was using to cut up some fruit.

Steve gets busy cleaning things up. He asks their son to help do smaller things like close the fridge and grab some towels.

Billy takes his daughter’s small soft hand into his large, rough one and plants a kiss on it. It sends something like pure love surging through his heart. He guides her to the bathroom to put a bandaid on it and asks if she’s okay.

“Mmhm.” She nods and his heart softens. She sniffles. “M’sorry. We wanted… wanted to make breakfast and w-wanted to do something nice.”

She sounds like the weight of the world is on her small shoulders. Billy sees himself at 9 years old, doing his damnedest to get anything close to a damn smile out of his father while he sat unresponsive and unamused on the couch.

His heart yearns. It breaks and it pulls and it screams and it shouts. He pulls her in close and hugs her tight and tries to find the right words. Tries to tell her it’s made his entire year. It’s made him feel validated and happy and worth it, like all of that stress is worth it just to know that these two children got up early as hell on a Sunday morning just to surprise their fathers. Just to surprise the two of them. Just to say they thought of them, wanted to give them something, wanted to make them feel special.

“It was nice.” Is all he can croak out through his froggy throat.

“It’s a mess.” She sobs, but he just grips her arms tighter.

“It was wonderful.” He says and he’s crying too. He can’t get the tears to stop. He’s kneeling on the bathroom ground, the two of them crying to each other.

And Billy swears he’ll never get good at the father thing. He has talks with Hop about it, when he’s feeling vulnerable and Hopper’s able to get it out of him. By this point they’ve adopted another child- an older boy, a teenager. He’s rough and he’s jaded. He listens to loud, angry music. He kind of picks on the other two kids, even though he’d jump in front of a bus for either one of them. Hop asks how he likes it.

“He’s a lot like you were, y’know.” Hop tells Billy, who still doesn’t really see it.

Steve doesn’t have as much of a problem with the boy as Billy does. Billy and him just never seem to see eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re the same people.” Hop insists. Steve agrees. Joyce affirms with pity. “You clash.”

They clash hard. They get into yelling matches. Billy never puts a hand on him, but the arguments aren’t exactly great. Billy cries to Steve at night, fear shaking him down to his core, still able to see and hear himself yelling at that boy who fights tooth and nail back with him.

“You’re not a bad person, Billy.”

“Why do I do that shit?” He asks, knowing full well no one but him could ever really know.

It’s not like it’s anything too vitriolic. It’s not like it’s anything really poisonous.

It’s over the fact that he stays out too late at night, and Billy gets worried. It’s the fact that Billy found cigarettes in his room and he knows the bad effects of cigarettes. It’s the fact that he pushed his little brother one day and made him scrape his knee and he needed to learn some boundaries. It’s the fact that he lied about his grades when Billy felt they gave him no reason to do such a thing.

It’s fatherly things. That’s what Hop assures him as Billy cries on the phone with him.

“It’s things I would have done with you.”

Billy never ever knows what to make of that. What to make of what he’d be like now if Hop was his father from the start. If Hop was there from the beginning. If Neil hadn’t made him a monster in his own image.

Billy does his best to get through to him. Get through to his son now because he’s his son now.

Billy feels like the worst, most undeserving father.

As the kids have gotten older, they learned better ways to celebrate father’s day. They learn breakfast in bed isn’t really what the two of them would prefer- a nice lunch and getting to spend some time with them sounds better. A homemade card always goes on the mantle or the fridge with the rest of the collection. A few hugs because those are like treasured gifts in this house with kids who have a history of boundary and trust issues with parental figures.

The older son catches Billy alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Billy replies awkwardly back. The silence is jarring.

“I uh… uhm.” He’s struggling. Billy wants to do something more than just stand here, but he’s not sure what. He doesn’t want to push anything too far. He wants to be good at this.

The boy puts a small, wrapped box on the counter with an envelope underneath and slides it over.

“Happy Father's day.” He mumbles, suddenly fidgeting.

Billy stares at them.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

There’s another pause, heavy with all the weight and worry in Billy’s heart. He reaches for the box, rips the paper open easily, lifts up the lid.

“It’s uh… it’s just a couple tapes of some of those… bands you like. And talk about. All the time.” The boy snickers, but it catches in his throat. He’s so nervous. “My friend’s family was getting rid of a bunch of their tapes and I know you’ve got your old tape player still so… uh… yeah.”

It’s a mixed bag of absolute classics. Some tapes he used to have, others he’s always wanted. Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Def Leppard, Billy Idol, AC/DC, Alice Cooper… his heart skips. He lost a lot of his tapes after all the sudden moves he’s had to make. His eyes start to well.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Billy pushes out on a whisper.

“Are they any good?”

“They’re… they’re awesome, kid.”

“There’s a card too y’know.” The boy adds, still shuffling nervously.

Billy slips it out from under the box, pulling his finger underneath the flap to open it.

It’s… it’s ridiculous. It’s one of the cheesiest cards Billy’s ever seen. He thinks back to all the stupid, jokey cards he used to pick out with his mother. The joke inside actually makes him laugh, loud and bright.

There’s words written underneath, quite a few scribbled out and then-

Sorry for all the trouble. I think I just don’t like knowing you’re right sometimes… but thank you for everything.

The words are nearly chicken scratch- wobbly letters clearly written with a nervous and shaky hand. The boy is damn near bouncing now, damn near trying to crawl out of his skin with nerves.

It’s the best, prettiest, most wonderful chicken scratch handwriting Billy has ever seen. He can barely see it now through his misty eyes.

“Your… handwriting is really nice.”

The boy scoffs loudly.

“Uh, thanks?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Still, Billy could swear he sees the boy preen, just a little.

“Thank you.” Billy says, fighting back tears, trying like hell to hold himself together. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t… I don’t have to yell at you so much. At all. I’m sorry about it.”

The boy is just staring at him, eyes a little wide and a little shocked. Billy feels his heart lurch. He just wants to be fucking good at this.

“I’m gonna do better.” Billy asserts through a not-so-wobbly-anymore voice

The boy gives a small smile that grows a bit wider. If Billy isn’t absolutely crazy yet, he’d say that the boy’s eyes are getting a bit misty too.

“So are those tapes actually good?” The boy asks, clearing his throat and trying to seem casual. Billy sees more and more of himself in him.

“Hell yeah… do you think I’d have bad taste?”

His son cackles just a bit, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, alright then. Whatever you say.”

There’s a pause. Billy takes the card and tucks it back into the envelope to save for himself- to put in a special place in his and Steve’s room. He then busies himself with shuffling through his tapes before his son says-

“We can… listen to some of them. If you want.”

Billy’s eyes shine with excitement and appreciation.

Listening to the tapes together is wonderful. They rib each other about what songs are better, what voices do and don’t sound the same, what the lyrics are like. They learn more about each other and maybe Billy is finally forced to admit that they’re a lot more alike than he realized.

And Billy starts to feel that maybe… maybe he can finally define what a father really means to him. And father’s days start to feel a bit more like they belong to him, too.

[blind-rats]

The Rise & Fall of Joss Whedon; the Myth of the Hollywood Feminist Hero

By Kelly Faircloth

“I hate ‘feminist.’ Is this a good time to bring that up?” Joss Whedon asked. He paused knowingly, waiting for the laughs he knew would come at the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer making such a statement.

It was 2013, and Whedon was onstage at a fundraiser for Equality Now, a human rights organization dedicated to legal equality for women. Though Buffy had been off the air for more than a decade, its legacy still loomed large; Whedon was widely respected as a man with a predilection for making science fiction with strong women for protagonists. Whedon went on to outline why, precisely, he hated the term: “You can’t be born an ‘ist,’” he argued, therefore, “‘feminist’ includes the idea that believing men and women to be equal, believing all people to be people, is not a natural state, that we don’t emerge assuming that everybody in the human race is a human, that the idea of equality is just an idea that’s imposed on us.”

The speech was widely praised and helped cement his pop-cultural reputation as a feminist, in an era that was very keen on celebrity feminists. But it was also, in retrospect, perhaps the high water mark for Whedon’s ability to claim the title, and now, almost a decade later, that reputation is finally in tatters, prompting a reevaluation of not just Whedon’s work, but the narrative he sold about himself. 

In July 2020, actor Ray Fisher accused Whedon of being “gross, abusive, unprofessional, and completely unacceptable” on the Justice League set when Whedon took over for Zach Synder as director to finish the project. Charisma Carpenter then described her own experiences with Whedon in a long post to Twitter, hashtagged #IStandWithRayFisher.

On Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, Carpenter played Cordelia, a popular character who morphed from snob to hero—one of those strong female characters that made Whedon’s feminist reputation—before being unceremoniously written off the show in a plot that saw her thrust into a coma after getting pregnant with a demon. For years, fans have suspected that her disappearance was related to her real-life pregnancy. In her statement, Carpenter appeared to confirm the rumors. “Joss Whedon abused his power on numerous occasions while working on the sets of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ and ‘Angel,’” she wrote, describing Fisher’s firing as the last straw that inspired her to go public.

Buffy was a landmark of late 1990s popular culture, beloved by many a burgeoning feminist, grad student, gender studies professor, and television critic for the heroine at the heart of the show, the beautiful blonde girl who balanced monster-killing with high school homework alongside ancillary characters like the shy, geeky Willow. Buffy was very nearly one of a kind, an icon of her era who spawned a generation of leather-pants-wearing urban fantasy badasses and women action heroes.

Buffy was so beloved, in fact, that she earned Whedon a similarly privileged place in fans’ hearts and a broader reputation as a man who championed empowered women characters. In the desert of late ’90s and early 2000s popular culture, Whedon was heralded as that rarest of birds—the feminist Hollywood man. For many, he was an example of what more equitable storytelling might look like, a model for how to create compelling women protagonists who were also very, very fun to watch. But Carpenter’s accusations appear to have finally imploded that particular bit of branding, revealing a different reality behind the scenes and prompting a reevaluation of the entire arc of Whedon’s career: who he was and what he was selling all along.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer premiered March 1997, midseason, on The WB, a two-year-old network targeting teens with shows like 7th Heaven. Its beginnings were not necessarily auspicious; it was a reboot of a not-particularly-blockbuster 1992 movie written by third-generation screenwriter Joss Whedon. (His grandfather wrote for The Donna Reed Show; his father wrote for Golden Girls.) The show followed the trials of a stereotypical teenage California girl who moved to a new town and a new school after her parents’ divorce—only, in a deliberate inversion of horror tropes, the entire town sat on top of the entrance to Hell and hence was overrun with demons. Buffy was a slayer, a young woman with the power and immense responsibility to fight them. After the movie turned out very differently than Whedon had originally envisioned, the show was a chance for a do-over, more of a Valley girl comedy than serious horror.

It was layered, it was campy, it was ironic and self-aware. It looked like it belonged on the WB rather than one of the bigger broadcast networks, unlike the slickly produced prestige TV that would follow a few years later. Buffy didn’t fixate on the gory glory of killing vampires—really, the monsters were metaphors for the entire experience of adolescence, in all its complicated misery. Almost immediately, a broad cross-section of viewers responded enthusiastically. Critics loved it, and it would be hugely influential on Whedon’s colleagues in television; many argue that it broke ground in terms of what you could do with a television show in terms of serialized storytelling, setting the stage for the modern TV era. Academics took it up, with the show attracting a tremendous amount of attention and discussion.

In 2002, the New York Times covered the first academic conference dedicated to the show. The organizer called Buffy “a tremendously rich text,” hence the flood of papers with titles like “Pain as Bright as Steel: The Monomyth and Light in ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer,’” which only gathered speed as the years passed. And while it was never the highest-rated show on television, it attracted an ardent core of fans.

But what stood out the most was the show’s protagonist: a young woman who stereotypically would have been a monster movie victim, with the script flipped: instead of screaming and swooning, she staked the vampires. This was deliberate, the core conceit of the concept, as Whedon said in many, many interviews. The helpless horror movie girl killed in the dark alley instead walks out victorious. He told Time in 1997 that the concept was born from the thought, “I would love to see a movie in which a blond wanders into a dark alley, takes care of herself and deploys her powers.” In Whedon’s framing, it was particularly important that it was a woman who walked out of that alley. He told another publication in 2002 that “the very first mission statement of the show” was “the joy of female power: having it, using it, sharing it.”

In 2021, when seemingly every new streaming property with a woman as its central character makes some half-baked claim to feminism, it’s easy to forget just how much Buffy stood out among its against its contemporaries. Action movies—with exceptions like Alien’s Ripley and Terminator 2's Sarah Conner—were ruled by hulking tough guys with macho swagger. When women appeared on screen opposite vampires, their primary job was to expose long, lovely, vulnerable necks. Stories and characters that bucked these larger currents inspired intense devotion, from Angela Chase of My So-Called Life to Dana Scully of The X-Files.

The broader landscape, too, was dismal. It was the conflicted era of girl power, a concept that sprang up in the wake of the successes of the second-wave feminist movement and the backlash that followed. Young women were constantly exposed to you-can-do-it messaging that juxtaposed uneasily with the reality of the world around them. This was the era of shitty, sexist jokes about every woman who came into Bill Clinton’s orbit and the leering response to the arrival of Britney Spears; Rush Limbaugh was a fairly mainstream figure.

At one point, Buffy competed against Ally McBeal, a show that dedicated an entire episode to a dancing computer-generated baby following around its lawyer main character, her biological clock made zanily literal. Consider this line from a New York Times review of the Buffy’s 1997 premiere: “Given to hot pants and boots that should guarantee the close attention of Humbert Humberts all over America, Buffy is just your average teen-ager, poutily obsessed with clothes and boys.”

Against that background, Buffy was a landmark. Besides the simple fact of its woman protagonist, there were unique plots, like the coming-out story for her friend Willow. An ambivalent 1999 piece in Bitch magazine, even as it explored the show’s tank-top heavy marketing, ultimately concluded, “In the end, it’s precisely this contextual conflict that sets Buffy apart from the rest and makes her an appealing icon. Frustrating as her contradictions may be, annoying as her babe quotient may be, Buffy still offers up a prime-time heroine like no other.”

A 2016 Atlantic piece, adapted from a book excerpt, makes the case that Buffy is perhaps best understood as an icon of third-wave feminism: “In its examination of individual and collective empowerment, its ambiguous politics of racial representation and its willing embrace of contradiction, Buffy is a quintessentially third-wave cultural production.” The show was vested with all the era’s longing for something better than what was available, something different, a champion for a conflicted “post-feminist” era—even if she was an imperfect or somewhat incongruous vessel. It wasn’t just Sunnydale that needed a chosen Slayer, it was an entire generation of women. That fact became intricately intertwined with Whedon himself.

Seemingly every interview involved a discussion of his fondness for stories about strong women. “I’ve always found strong women interesting, because they are not overly represented in the cinema,” he told New York for a 1997 piece that notes he studied both film and “gender and feminist issues” at Wesleyan; “I seem to be the guy for strong action women,’’ he told the New York Times in 1997 with an aw-shucks sort of shrug. ‘’A lot of writers are just terrible when it comes to writing female characters. They forget that they are people.’’ He often cited the influence of his strong, “hardcore feminist” mother, and even suggested that his protagonists served feminist ends in and of themselves: “If I can make teenage boys comfortable with a girl who takes charge of a situation without their knowing that’s what’s happening, it’s better than sitting down and selling them on feminism,” he told Time in 1997.

When he was honored by the organization Equality Now in 2006 for his “outstanding contribution to equality in film and television,” Whedon made his speech an extended riff on the fact that people just kept asking him about it, concluding with the ultimate answer: “Because you’re still asking me that question.” He presented strong women as a simple no-brainer, and he was seemingly always happy to say so, at a time when the entertainment business still seemed ruled by unapologetic misogynists. The internet of the mid-2010s only intensified Whedon’s anointment as a prototypical Hollywood ally, with reporters asking him things like how men could best support the feminist movement. 

Whedon’s response: “A guy who goes around saying ‘I’m a feminist’ usually has an agenda that is not feminist. A guy who behaves like one, who actually becomes involved in the movement, generally speaking, you can trust that. And it doesn’t just apply to the action that is activist. It applies to the way they treat the women they work with and they live with and they see on the street.” This remark takes on a great deal of irony in light of Carpenter’s statement.

In recent years, Whedon’s reputation as an ally began to wane. Partly, it was because of the work itself, which revealed more and more cracks as Buffy receded in the rearview mirror. Maybe it all started to sour with Dollhouse, a TV show that imagined Eliza Dushku as a young woman rented out to the rich and powerful, her mind wiped after every assignment, a concept that sat poorly with fans. (Though Whedon, while he was publicly unhappy with how the show had turned out after much push-and-pull with the corporate bosses at Fox, still argued the conceit was “the most pure feminist and empowering statement I’d ever made—somebody building themselves from nothing,” in a 2012 interview with Wired.)

After years of loud disappointment with the TV bosses at Fox on Firefly and Dollhouse, Whedon moved into big-budget Hollywood blockbusters. He helped birth the Marvel-dominated era of movies with his work as director of The Avengers. But his second Avengers movie, Age of Ultron, was heavily criticized for a moment in which Black Widow laid out her personal reproductive history for the Hulk, suggesting her sterilization somehow made her a “monster.” In June 2017, his un-filmed script for a Wonder Woman adaptation leaked, to widespread mockery. The script’s introduction of Diana was almost leering: “To say she is beautiful is almost to miss the point. She is elemental, as natural and wild as the luminous flora surrounding. Her dark hair waterfalls to her shoulders in soft arcs and curls. Her body is curvaceous, but taut as a drawn bow.”

But Whedon’s real fall from grace began in 2017, right before MeToo spurred a cultural reckoning. His ex-wife, Kai Cole, published a piece in The Wrap accusing him of cheating off and on throughout their relationship and calling him a hypocrite:

“Despite understanding, on some level, that what he was doing was wrong, he never conceded the hypocrisy of being out in the world preaching feminist ideals, while at the same time, taking away my right to make choices for my life and my body based on the truth. He deceived me for 15 years, so he could have everything he wanted. I believed, everyone believed, that he was one of the good guys, committed to fighting for women’s rights, committed to our marriage, and to the women he worked with. But I now see how he used his relationship with me as a shield, both during and after our marriage, so no one would question his relationships with other women or scrutinize his writing as anything other than feminist.”

But his reputation was just too strong; the accusation that he didn’t practice what he preached didn’t quite stick. A spokesperson for Whedon told the Wrap: “While this account includes inaccuracies and misrepresentations which can be harmful to their family, Joss is not commenting, out of concern for his children and out of respect for his ex-wife. Many minimized the essay on the basis that adultery doesn’t necessarily make you a bad feminist or erase a legacy. Whedon similarly seemed to shrug off Ray Fisher’s accusations of creating a toxic workplace; instead, Warner Media fired Fisher.

But Carpenter’s statement—which struck right at the heart of his Buffy-based legacy for progressivism—may finally change things. Even at the time, the plotline in which Charisma Carpenter was written off Angel—carrying a demon child that turned her into “Evil Cordelia,” ending the season in a coma, and quite simply never reappearing—was unpopular. Asked about what had happened in a 2009 panel at DragonCon, she said that “my relationship with Joss became strained,” continuing: “We all go through our stuff in general [behind the scenes], and I was going through my stuff, and then I became pregnant. And I guess in his mind, he had a different way of seeing the season go… in the fourth season.”

“I think Joss was, honestly, mad. I think he was mad at me and I say that in a loving way, which is—it’s a very complicated dynamic working for somebody for so many years, and expectations, and also being on a show for eight years, you gotta live your life. And sometimes living your life gets in the way of maybe the creator’s vision for the future. And that becomes conflict, and that was my experience.”

In her statement on Twitter, Carpenter alleged that after Whedon was informed of her pregnancy, he called her into a closed-door meeting and “asked me if I was ‘going to keep it,’ and manipulatively weaponized my womanhood and faith against me.” She added that “he proceeded to attack my character, mock my religious beliefs, accuse me of sabotaging the show, and then unceremoniously fired me following the season once I gave birth.” Carpenter said that he called her fat while she was four months pregnant and scheduled her to work at 1 a.m. while six months pregnant after her doctor had recommended shortening her hours, a move she describes as retaliatory. What Carpenter describes, in other words, is an absolutely textbook case of pregnancy discrimination in the workplace, the type of bullshit the feminist movement exists to fight—at the hands of the man who was for years lauded as a Hollywood feminist for his work on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.

Many of Carpenter’s colleagues from Buffy and Angel spoke out in support, including Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar. “While I am proud to have my name associated with Buffy Summers, I don’t want to be forever associated with the name Joss Whedon,” she said in a statement. Just shy of a decade after that 2013 speech, many of the cast members on the show that put him on that stage are cutting ties.

Whedon garnered a reputation as pop culture’s ultimate feminist man because Buffy did stand out so much, an oasis in a wasteland. But in 2021, the idea of a lone man being responsible for creating women’s stories—one who told the New York Times, “I seem to be the guy for strong action women”—seems like a relic. It’s depressing to consider how many years Hollywood’s first instinct for “strong action women” wasn’t a woman, and to think about what other people could have done with those resources. When Wonder Woman finally reached the screen, to great acclaim, it was with a woman as director.

Besides, Whedon didn’t make Buffy all by himself—many, many women contributed, from the actresses to the writers to the stunt workers, and his reputation grew so large it eclipsed their part in the show’s creation. Even as he preached feminism, Whedon benefitted from one of the oldest, most sexist stereotypes: the man who’s a benevolent, creative genius. And Buffy, too, overshadowed all the other contributors who redefined who could be a hero on television and in speculative fiction, from individual actors like Gillian Anderson to the determined, creative women who wrote science fiction and fantasy over the last several decades to—perhaps most of all—the fans who craved different, better stories. Buffy helped change what you could put on TV, but it didn’t create the desire to see a character like her. It was that desire, as much as Whedon himself, that gave Buffy the Vampire Slayer her power.

[hello-nichya-here]

Do you feel bad for Light Yagami in the slightest? When he got obsessed with his self-imposed ideology started killing innocent people I was like "Damn. he's too far gone now, there's no changing his mind. What a bitch." but after he lost his memories and showcased Light demonstrates compassion, a reluctance to manipulate others and an intense unwillingness to kill, it got me thinking "Oh, what could've been if he hadn't picked the death note... Why did I forget that he's human too?" There were those small moments when be exhibits his "human" side, even post timeskip. For instance, when Sayu is kidnapped and held for ransom, Light prevents Soichiro from taking drastic action in order to keep his sister safe in spite of knowingly increasing Mello's chances of obtaining the Death Note. And his anime death was executed perfectly sad enough to make me feel sorry for him. Even sadder than L's imo.

It's hard for me to call him a victim of the death note since the decision to impose his self-righteousness on the whole world, not leaving it much of a choice was his own free will. Intetacting with a shinigami and having so much power in his hands messed him up, sure. But still he wasn't some poor misgudged meow meow who needed the right guidance.

He seemed to care about becoming a god MORE than actually protecting innocents and making the world a better place for people to feel and live safely in. By the end of the series, if I'm not mistaken, the population, even innocent people started to fear knowing that someone is out there always watching them and having the power to murder them and there's nothing they can do about it now. It's world's new order. That only intensified when Mikami started killing "lazy" people. I could be wrong tho

Off topic but do you think any of the main characters was a sociopath, not just Light? Like Mikami or Mello? Or even L?

I feel slighly bad for him since he did have a "good side" (for lack of a better word) and his death was obviously very painfull, both physically and mentally. Both all the horrible things he did and all the lives he ruined make me REALLY not give shit about him.

Death Note is one of those stories in which pretty much every character could be diagnosed with something - usually MANY somethings.

Light, L, Near, Mello and Mikami all give me VERY strong autism vibes, and all five have, at the very least, traits of narcisism and OCD. I believe Light has ASPD, and Mikami might possibly have it as well.

Needless to say, all five, and most characters in the anime, have a very serious case of BAAS - Big Arrogant Asshole Syndrome.