#and again there are other people who can talk about this better than i can because i am very much a white person

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter five | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

one big car launch with every driver in attendance - what can go wrong?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SERIES MASTERLIST

whatever bright spark decided that formula one needed one big, fancy car launch must want y/n dead. here she stood in one of the many green rooms in a black dress that’s a little too tight and an absolute pain to sit down in.

on one side of the room george sits in his dressing gown being doted on five different people while he talks down the phone in a tone too loud for the crowded room. kimi, on the other hand, sits on the couch on the other side, having waved off all of the people trying to smear yet another cream on his face.

“are you just going to be haunting me all season?” george said as he hung up the phone. glaring at y/n through the mirror.

“if i’m haunting you, does that mean you did something wrong?” y/n gasps, “am i the skeleton in your closet, georgie?”

the mercedes personnel in the green room were still, almost waiting for it to hit boiling point and all spill over. george and y/n stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the next move. george steadily looked y/n up and down, not being subtle at all. y/n raised her eyebrow at the brit.

“i could get used to you in my colours,” george said with a smirk.

“bore off russell, i don’t wear anything for you. these will be seen as kimi’s colours before you know it.”

a knock on the door signalled the start of the show. george stood up and took off his robe, revealing the new mercedes racesuit for the season. the brit made his way to the door but before he left, he turned to y/n and said, “don’t get too comfortable, i have my eye on you”

“oh georgie, you always have,” y/n flirted before schooling her face, “and how has that worked out for you?”

the brit pointed to his racesuit, “better than it has for you.”

that was a low blow, but y/n was prepared to play it that way if that was the game for the season. george looked at her again, as if to challenge her, but y/n stayed silent though her stare was unwavering. she had said a lot worse about herself to herself after the crash.

with that george turned and left, calling out to alex down the corridor.

“i really don’t understand him,” kimi said, “it was only like a week or two ago he was cussing you out in monaco, then today he checks you out but then threatens you like two seconds later?”

“first lesson of the year, kimi. do not trust a word that man says to you.”

the pair linked arms and made their way out of the green room. there was a gaggle of drivers at the end of the corridor, all decked out in their racesuits except the ferrari boys who were in normal suits. the group fell silent as they all turned to see the new arrivals.

“i didn’t know it was bring your mum to work day?” alex called out as they neared the group, smiling as he came to hug her.

a french-accented voice hollered a ‘milf’ from the back of the group, y/n suspected it was pierre, but paid no mind. an offended squeak followed as y/n looked up to see max delivering a slap to the back of his head.

“i’m just dropping him off, i gotta get to my seat before i’m roped into an interview. i had to sneak in this afternoon, i swear sky sports are like stalking me!”

the group watched along as y/n leaned in to whisper into kimi’s ear, “remember what i told you. smile, be likeable and tell jokes. these people are underestimating you, let them. we’ll do our real talking in the car. good luck and try and have some fun.”

the pair did their ‘handshake’, which really was just a pinky promise, and broke apart. y/n looks back at the group one more time, smiles at max and takes her leave. just a couple paces down the corridor, a voice called out her name.

“y/n, hey!” lewis called, catching up to her quickly, “i didn’t think i’d see you back here tonight.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, to be fair. kimi is technically an adult now, but i still didn’t want to leave him on his own here of all places.”

lewis laughed as the pair looked back at the group. kimi had nestled himself next to ollie, quietly talking to each other with esteban looking over both of them. y/n caught the gaze of esteban and the frenchman gave her a quick nod before inserting himself into the conversation. the height difference between kimi and esteban was comical, but y/n was happy knowing esteban would look out for him in places she couldn’t be.

“i didn’t think you would like the whole mentor role, being so young and everything, but you seem to be doing a good job.”

“thank you lewis, but honestly he makes it very easy,” y/n looked at the group again with a fond look on her face.

lewis brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, “i thought i’d never see that look on your face again.”

y/n looked down and blushed, shaking lewis’ hand off. “i am happy. a lot happier than i expected to be, anyway.”

“i’m happy that you’re happy. i’m happy you’re back, i won’t keep my distance this time, even if you’re in the home of the enemy now.”

y/n laughed, “well i thought it was bad going back to your ex, and look at me now. so maybe they’re not as much as an enemy as you think.”

an announcement from further down the corridor cute the conversation there, lewis tries not to look bothered, but y/n can still tell.

“looks like you’re needed elsewhere, superstar,” y/n said with a wink, “try not to let charles outshine you too much.”

“he wishes.”

y/n watched him walk away and was confused. lewis had never expressed interest in her before, platonic or romantic. even when she was a young rookie with stars in her eyes, she was never on his radar. was she now? the visit in london had been weird and the way his eyes had been fixed on her since she arrived today was even weirder.

y/n didn’t really have the time to be grappling with that struggle today, not with everything else going on. the audience seemed like enough distance between her and lando, but after monaco, there was no real knowing what could happen. george was just as confusing as his compatriot, with harsh words but also a glimmer of something else too.

she needed a glass of champagne pronto.

max watched the interaction between y/n and lewis like a hawk, so focused that he didn’t realise that he had formed quite an audience. nico hulkenberg, kimi, ollie and esteban watched him try and conceal his feelings, but his face showed every thought.

“you want to make it any more obvious that you’re jealous?” nico said, nudging max to break him out of his daze.

“i’m not jealous, i just wonder what they actually have to talk about…”

“you’re not jealous you say? you didn’t even glare at him this much during 2021.” esteban chimed in.

max furrowed his brows and forced himself to look away. he already felt guilty for harbouring these feelings for y/n and now he’s faced with a curious look from kimi, making him feel even worse. he did not want to make the same mistake as lando and george had in the past. he meant it when he said he just wanted to exist with her.

“kimi, how would you feel about having max as your dad?” ollie said, hiding slightly behind esteban.

“he’s very good with the cats?”

“thanks, that’s such a glowing recommendation, kimi, thanks!”

kimi held up his hands in surrender but max couldn’t be angry at the italian - plus he did take very good care of his cats and brando. in fact, he had nearly thrown his back out, much to red bull’s chagrin, building a new cat tower so brando could watch the birds from his preferred spot. the cat had settled in well in his place in monaco while y/n had been staying, the dutchman didn’t want to think too much about what it could mean, but it was on his mind.

“i just mean i caught you googling how to make sure your cat is getting enough vitamin d because you were worried about how cloudy it’s been in monaco?”

kimi tried to backpedal, but his anecdote was overheard by more drivers, bringing them into the conversation.

“are you being for real? vitamins are just pseudoscience dude,” pierre said but isack popped his head into the circle to say, “vitamins are real? and vitamin d deficiency is actually a really huge problem.”

“thank you isack!”

“as if i’m taking health advice from a rookie,” pierre laughed. yuki took his turn to pipe up next, “i saw you eat a whole jar of peanut butter in one sitting last winter break? what do you know about health?”

“why is it gang up on pierre hour? why aren’t we focusing on the real issue here? like how pathetic max is about y/n?”

max sputtered as even more drivers joined the conversation.

“i am not pathetic. brando is practically my son. kimi back me up, doesn’t he love me?”

“he does -” kimi started defending max before charles butted in with a: “calling for help from the other son? we see how it is verstappen.”

this was a losing battle. max just hoped it stayed this light hearted but he saw lando and george approaching the group.

“max is not my dad, but i wouldn’t mind. he drove all the way to nice to pick up my parcel because i didn’t understand monaco postal charges!”

poor kimi was trying to help, but he was just making it inadvertently worse.

“this is making your pseudoadoption last year look like child’s play, oscar,” alex said, earning him a whack from charles.

“kimi is not my son, but that doesn’t mean i won’t look out for him. this is a horrible place to come when you’re already disliked. some people, not naming names, have made it clear they have a problem with him and y/n, so it’s simply my moral duty to look out for him.”

the group quietened down, looking amongst each other.

“why am i so out of the loop, who is bullying this literal child?” nico said, pulling kimi into his chest, the italian letting out a squeak as the german petted him. “so? do tell.”

for two people who were very eager to call y/n and kimi every name under the sun just a week ago, they were very silent in that moment.

“oh! we’re talking about the lovely cocktail party i threw that was ruined by lando and george!” charles blurted out, he grabbed fernando’s hand, “it was so nice, i even brought olives, but they came in spouting all this shit about y/n and kimi and seduction and older women?”

both brits scratched the backs of their necks. the cocktail party drama was not a good move from them, especially so close to the start of the season.

“it wasn’t quite like that?” george hurried out.

“you accused y/n of trying to sleep with me?” oscar said.

“you said that i was going the max verstappen route of getting with an older ‘problematic’ woman?” kimi added from nico’s side.

“you also kinda implicated yourself in y/n’s crash?” alex heaped on for good measure.

“alex!?” george and lando shouted, “whose side are you meant to be on?”

“i’m not on a “side” because i’m not fucking five, but i will point out hypocrisy and stupidity and that’s both of you. come on, it’s 2025 and you guys are still stuck in like 2017.”

“right, i feel really stupid because what the fuck are you people talking about and why wasn’t i invited to this party?” fernando said, a confused look on his face.

“lando and george are still hung up on y/n years later even though she never actually expressed interest in them, max has the best odds on actually sealing the deal and i don’t know, kimi is getting shit because he brought her back and none of them can actually regulate their emotions!” charles said, exasperated, “keep up grandpa, you’ve been here the whole time!”

“i do not have the ‘best odds’ because y/n isn’t a horse, you don’t bet on women?” max bit back.

“actually i bet on women all the time,” yuki said but when he saw how the group were looking at him he added, “ufc, duh!”

even as they were herded towards the backstage, the group continued bickering like children.

“all i’m saying is that your crush is super obvious and you need to be careful! y/n will know and will use it against you, just look at what happened with me and george!” lando hissed at max.

the dutchman glared at the brit, this really had gone too far. “can you like actually give me an example of where she ‘led you on’ i am genuinely curious,” max snipped, “quickly.”

lando immediately looked at the floor and bit his lip. max began tapping his foot with an impatient look.

“well she would be super flirty with me in the videos the team would make us film?” lando didn’t sound convinced, and max didn’t buy a single second of it.

“if that’s what you think flirting is i feel sorry for all of your ex girlfriends, you must be a horrible boyfriend - ouch!” charles was cut off by a shove from george.

“stay out of this charles!”

“i won’t stay out of this, y/n is actually a friend of mine. yeah that’s right she doesn’t hate me because i don’t assume that any girl who is fractionally nice to me is in love with me.”

“lando you basically tortured that girl her entire formula one career, do you need to do it now as well?” max said, “i think this season will be a lot easier for you if you drop this now.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.”

all the bickering surrounding the pair ceased, tension rising in the air. the call for the mclaren boys drew lando out of his stare down with max. the brit joined oscar at the front of the queue and painted on his PR smile.

y/n had found her way to her seat, flanked by natalie pinkham on one side and jenson button on the other. there goes her plans for a quiet evening.

“so the rumours are true,” jenson said before jumping up to give her a hug, “i’ve missed you, rocky”

y/n flushed at the nickname. since her first ever race in formula one, jenson had crowned her his ‘pocket rocket’ which had eventually been worn down to just rocky. she hadn’t heard it in so long, jenson’s appearances being relegated to messages via sara or flowers that only gave away his identity with the use of rocky.

“did sky set up this seating arrangement? are you going to ambush me for an interview?”

“i can’t believe you’d think so low of me,” jenson clutched at his imaginary pearls, “and as if you can say no to me anyway.”

the pair took their seats as the show started. natalie handed her a glass of champagne and whispered in her ear, “you might need this.” well that doesn’t bode well.

the two mclaren drivers made their way out onto stage, joined by zak and andrea. y/n leaned into jenson, “i don’t understand why he insists on being everywhere, have we not suffered enough?”

jenson tried to stifle his laugh, “are you sure you don’t want to work in commentary?”

“i think it’s best i keep my opinion on these men to myself.”

the mclaren spiel followed the closely the same scripts they used when y/n still raced for them, though a healthy dose of constructors champions boasting had been added. a second questionable decision from formula one reared it’s head when nico rosberg asked his first unscripted question:

“so boys, how do you feel about the return of former mclaren driver y/n y/ln to the paddock? excited to see her?”

y/n swore she could see lando’s eye twitch from her front row seat. there was an awkward pause and y/n could feel the rest of the audience tense. even though the general public didn’t know the ins and outs of the fall out, there was definitely rising suspicion.

nico found y/n in the audience and gave her such a shit-eating grin that she almost didn’t care about the situation he just put her in.

“we’re of course over the moon to see her back in the paddock. i know i’ve harboured a lot of guilt as to how i ended up with my seat, so i’m happy that y/n can see me in action and hopefully i can continue to make her proud!” oscar said with a genuine smile, the only convincing one from the men clad in orange.

“continue to?” nico asked, “have you had confirmation of this?”

y/n’s eyes snapped to oscar who despite receiving glares from his boss, continued on.

“we spoke at charles’ cocktail party. i’ve always been a fan of hers and it was great to finally set the record straight. she was a lot more graceful than i would’ve been in her position. to be honest i was a bit of a weepy mess, but she was very supportive. i’m only slightly jealous of kimi…”

“very nice. did you get any insight on her opinion on hungary?” nico pushed, only to be cut off by zak.

“if you so desperately want her opinion on everything, you can wait until you’re on sky’s dime. this is a car launch, no? we’re confident in our car for this season and intend on winning both championships. and do you know how we’re going to do that? with the two drivers on stage right now, not one who was a flash in the pan four years ago.”

you could hear a pin drop in the venue. even lando had a shocked look on his face as he and oscar exchanged a look.

“that’s fighting talk from the man who ended her career, but what do i know?” nico said sharply but then turned to the audience, “ladies and gentlemen, mclaren!”

there was tentative applause from crowd and when y/n and oscar made eye contact she gave him a small smile. this was only the first team…

nico looked for y/n in the front row and gave her a thumbs up to which she shook her head violently. jenson burst out laughing, “well, i don’t think we’ll be having this as the car launch format again.”

“i don’t know about you but i’m throughly entertained,” natalie said, “if nico was like that with mclaren, i can’t wait for ferrari!”

the next few teams were decidedly less dramatic. y/n could see kimi and george lining up next to come on stage and she hoped the italian remembered her advice.

george walked on stage with confident strides, followed by toto and finally kimi. the italian looked out at the audience, squinting from the harsh lights but calming his features when he saw y/n. she gave him a thumbs up and got a smile in return.

“you’re loving this mum role aren’t you?” jenson said.

“you’re making me feel old, stop. but yes i would kill myself if anything happened to him, so i guess so.”

back on stage, nico had started his interview. first toto was being grilled about the hopes for the season and how life at mercedes would be without lewis hamilton. the german was clearly trying to bait his former boss into giving him a juicy soundbite.

“kimi, let’s come to you now. you’re first season in formula one and you’ve already brought in the big guns? y/n y/ln as your mentor, that’s a big statement.”

kimi looked startled and his eyes snapped to meet y/n’s. she nodded to him, urging him to answer.

“why wouldn’t i want a legend of the sport like her as my mentor? she still knows what she’s doing, and if it ruffles some feathers in the paddock at the same time, what’s the harm?”

she was so proud of her protégé. jenson choked on his champagne at kimi’s answer, “kids got balls.”

“well, well, well. you’re not beating around the bush are you? but do tell me, kimi, what’s so special about you that y/n would come out of retirement?”

“i’ll save that answer for australia, nico,” kimi said, surprised by the laughs from the audience, “but maybe i’ve just got a charm the rest of the grid doesn’t?”

“holy shit,” natalie said, “was this the strategy, y/n?”

“i told him to make them like him? are you not entertained?”

nico, for once, was speechless on stage. george huffed next to toto, waiting for his turn to talk. the german clocked onto this and a devilish smile broke out on his face.

“so george, you and y/n grew up together… do you not have charm? as far as we can tell, you haven’t spoken to y/n in years?”

y/n’s mouth dropped open. jenson was right, there’s no way this format, at least with nico hosting, was ever happening again.

“i have more than enough charm, thank you nico. are you going to ask us anymore questions about the season or is it all just tabloid questions from you tonight?”

“tabloid?! well, now that makes me think you’ve got something to hide… but as for your 2025 season, are you afraid that you might lose to an 18-year-old rookie?”

george sputtered in response, “i have no fear of losing, i just beat a seven time world champion, a rookie, no offence, has no bearing on my season.”

“that’s a big claim, george. you better hope you stick to it. it’ll be your sixth season in formula one, do you think you’ll finally be able to claim the number one driver role?”

george’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to remain calm. he made eye contact with y/n briefly, giving her the subtlest glare he could.

“i think i made a very good case for myself for the last two seasons and toto has faith in me to lead this team back to where they should be.”

nico had a wolfish grin on his face, he was enjoying this psychological torture a little too much.

“you don’t think toto has more faith in kimi, a driver he allowed to skip an entire step on the junior ladder and is giving his formula one debut at just 18? and straight into a mercedes rather than say… a williams?”

george’s shiny mask was starting to slip. this was meant to be a fun event for fans but had descended into a nico rosberg masterclass of making everyone suffer - and for once y/n was enjoying it.

“classy as always, nico,” george said.

“it’s what i do best,” nico laughed to himself, “back to you kimi, are you intimidated at all by your senior teammate? do you think you can make a case for yourself as the number one driver?”

the italian paused for a moment, thinking to y/n’s advice - he needed people to like him.

“i’m more than happy to play a team game to bring mercedes back to the top,” he smiled to toto, “but make no mistake i’m here to win and i won’t just step aside without good reason.”

“well, this is a duo i’ll be watching closely this season. mercedes!”

the trio shuffled off of stage and y/n let out a sigh of relief, she could throw back as much champagne as she wanted now.

another couple of teams made their way past nico’s questioning, but as nico hulkenberg and gabriel bortoleto made their way off of the stage the audience held their breath. next was ferrari.

charles, lewis and fred vasseur made their way on stage, and as has become classic fashion, lewis situated himself as far from nico as possible.

“welcome, welcome. a different line up this year and much to think about, do you think you can finally bring the championship back to italy?”

fred started on what was likely a pre-written script and y/n tuned out for a second. the ferrari boys looked nothing short of glamorous in their tailored black suits with the yellow of the ferrari logo popping on the left breast. both men looked assured, no nerves, just pure confidence - the type of confidence that draws you to a person.

y/n caught lewis’ eye and he gave her a quick wink, something that did not go unnoticed by jenson beside her.

“what was that all about, rocky?” jenson whispered. y/n kept looking forward, ignoring jenson’s stare burning into the side of her head. the brit kept poking her, “i’m not going to stop until you answer me!”

y/n batted his hand away, “i don’t know what you’re talking about old man, leave me alone!”

“i saw that, hell, the whole place saw that! you are aware that is a man 14 years your senior!”

y/n downed her champagne and whispered to jenson, “listen, i don’t know what the fuck is happening! he came to my apartment and he’s being really nice? i don’t know?!”

jenson looked between the two and grabbed his own champagne. “i was teammates with that guy! you might be a grown up now but he’s really old!”

y/n slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laughing out loud. jenson did have a point. was lewis actually flirting with her or was he just being nice? was she falling into the same headspace that lando and george were in with her?

“i am not going to get with lewis, jens. he’s just being nice, that’s all. now shut up i want to see if nico makes the brocedes breakup all of our problem.”

nico had finished his interrogation of charles and set his sights on his former teammate. y/n grabbed jenson’s hand in anticipation.

“so lewis, new team, new you? how do you feel coming into a team where charles has dominated for the last five years?”

lewis gives nico a forced smile, “i am excited for the challenge. there’s a lot of changes coming into this season, people leaving and new faces. it’s best to face a challenge head on rather than running.”

“you didn’t run from mercedes? you didn’t want to stick it out and retire with the team that gave you so much success?”

“you’d know all about running wouldn’t you nico?”

y/n dropped her glass of champagne and the rest of the audience gasped but nico did not look phased at all.

“i am happy with my decision, time will tell if you’ll be happy with yours. charles dealt with sebastian, don’t think he’ll roll over for you.”

charles looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but on stage and fred’s face would tell you he’s at the gallows rather than a car launch.

“was in your brief today to make the vibes in here as rancid as possible? as i said i am excited for the season ahead and nothing you can say today will change that.”

lewis took the lead and left the stage, leaving nico alone with a pleased look on his face. the german found y/n’s gaze again and wiggled his eyebrows. if there was ever a man you need to take the heat off of you, he was the one.

there was one final team to go and this entire nightmare of a night would be over. the final team was none other than red bull - nothing could possibly go wrong here could they?

christian, like the other team principals, started with a long-winded spiel that said a whole lot of nothing. y/n smiled widely when she caught max’s eye and he responded with an eye roll directed at christian’s rambling. the dutchman, for a second, had forgotten he was in fact on stage in front of thousands. the pair stare at each other and bite their lips to keep the laughs in.

jenson leaned in again, “not to keep questioning you, but what is happening here? and don’t lie, i know he’s the only one you kept in contact with and who you have been staying with in monaco.”

“it’s nothing! it’s something? i don’t know what it is? we’re just existing together. i think romance in the paddock is the worst thing for me right now. i need to be fully focused on kimi.”

“first of all - we’re exisiting together? that’s so fucking gross. and two - you’re still allowed to have fun?” jenson wiggled his eyebrows.

“not everyone can be the playboy of formula one, stud.”

“true. i’m not sure you have the devilishly good looks to be a playboy - hey”

y/n snatched his glass of champagne and turned back towards the stage just as max took to the microphone.

“so max, do you think there’s a chance of a fifth title in a row?”

max laughed in his signature way, “here i thought you’d gotten all of your aggression out with lewis. we’ll have to see how we line up against the other teams, but you always have to believe you can win every single race, so that’s what i’ll continue to do.”

a quick glance from nico told y/n that her peaceful night hadn’t started just yet.

“you’ll finally have your best friend back in the paddock, are you still excited even though she’ll be in mercedes uniform?”

“i think toto has another thing coming if he thinks she’ll be wearing that ugly uniform,” max said, “but it makes no difference to me what garage y/n is in, we’re like magnets, you can’t keep us a part for long.”

nico hummed, “is that why you were the only one she kept in contact with after the crash?”

“yes? it’s mostly because we’re best friends but also because i’m a decent human being.”

oh fuck.

“how do you mean, max?”

christian tried to butt in, “i don’t think we need to go into that here.”

“oh i’m more than happy to, and nico has been stirring all night, what’s just a little more to add to the pot?”

you could almost hear the audience shuffling to the edge of their seats and for the first time that evening, y/n felt some of the cameras on her. she gave them a small wave and hoped they would pan back to the actual action.

“all i’m saying is that there are a lot of victim complexes in the paddock, it’s full of people who would rather say ‘i don’t know why she doesn’t talk to me?’ rather than do some actual introspection. y/n will talk to you if you’re not an asshole, just as kimi.”

“so you’re saying there’s a truth to the rumours?”

“which rumours? you know, since your employers like to report on so many?”

nico chuckled, “well, the rumours that perhaps the brits in the paddock didn’t get on as well as we were led to believe?”

max smiled, “well, that’s not my story to tell, but i’ve found that if you ask them, they’re more than happy to give you the scoop.”

for a moment, y/n’s heart stopped, fearing that nico would take this as the chance to bring her into the fray. max seemed to sense this as well and added, “but as for me, i’m just happy she’s back in any capacity. i’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“have you spoken about formula one in her break at all? you won all four of your titles in that time?”

“i know she watched it, but we haven’t spoken about it. i respected her boundaries at the time, but i knew she was watching based on some suspiciously timed texts.”

nico laughed, “i’m not sure we can ever stay away from this sport for long.”

“i’m glad that is the case,” max said, more to himself than anyone else.

the red bull boys were ushered off of the stage as nico delivered his closing remarks and announced the musical guests.

“he’s glad that’s the case? oh he’s in deep,” jenson gasped, “you can’t tell me that’s nothing, i rebuke it right this second.”

y/n sighed, standing and heading to the backstage bar. “i really don’t want to think about it jenson.”

“but you’re staying at his house, he’s building shit for your cat and gushing about you on stage!”

“i am well aware, but i don’t really know what you want me to do about that?”

“i want you to get your man and let him treat you how you’re supposed to be!”

y/n picked up another glass of champagne, talking the biggest sip before replying to jenson.

“you’re just as bad as the girls on twitter sometimes.”

kimi bursts through the doors, back in his comfy clothes, and rushes over to y/n. she wraps the italian into a hug.

“i’m so proud of you!”

kimi blushes, rocking back and forth on his feet, “thank you, y/n! i’m so glad we’ve got this out of the way i’m ready to race now!”

jenson laughed along side them, “an eager one, this one. i remember when i had that much energy.”

the rest of the drivers flooded into the room, grabbing drinks or just taking a seat. max, much like kimi, made his way straight to y/n, also pulling her into his chest. he whispered in her ear, “i’m sorry i got carried away talking about you, i just can’t help myself.”

y/n can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach at the confession. she was really trying to keep her feelings out of her return to formula one, but seeing max like this was putting a real spanner in the works. the dutchman’s protective nature along side his intense respect for her made her feel special for the first time since the crash.

“i take no offence, maxy. i’ll never say no to a compliment, especially from you.”

the group moves away from the bar and as they settle into their seats backstage, max’s arm wraps around her waist. y/n knew she shouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone but that’s what her heart wanted. the first few weeks into her return and all the drama was wearing on her and they hadn’t even made it to the paddock yet. she snuggled into max’s side, letting the dutchman brush her hair out of her face.

“y/n?” kimi said from the other side of her, “i’m really happy you’re here, and i hope you’ll let yourself have this,” kimi motioned to max, who was deep in conversation with jenson.

“don’t you worry about that, kimi.”

“you’ve punished yourself for years, please don’t keep telling yourself that you’re not allowed this. also don’t wait up for me, i’m going to crash at ollie’s”

kimi said as his departing gift as he went to catch up with ollie and watch some of the music. y/n let herself relax back into max’s hold and her eyes close, all of the pent up stress of the evening rushing out.

“are we really that boring?” jenson asked.

“do you want to get out of here, y/n?” max asked, when y/n flopped further onto him, he took that as his answer.

grabbing her bag, max took y/n’s hand in his and pulled her from the seat. the pair exchanged hugs with jenson and made a quiet exit from backstage. they tried to be as subtle as possible, but nothing is ever secret in formula one.

jenson slid in beside lewis at the bar.

“you want to tell me what your plan is with her?”

lewis looked at his former teammate in confusion.

“i saw that wink and i know you were flirting with her when you went to her apartment. what’s the plan, you’re 14 years older than her?”

“i don’t have a plan? i felt bad about how i was when she was in formula one, i’m just trying to make her feel welcome again.”

“and winking at her at a televised event is definitely going to help?”

lewis scoffed, “i don’t really like what you’re implying.”

“i’m implying that you need to watch your step, seriously. the vultures are just waiting for her to make one wrong step, don’t give them an excuse to call her a gold digger or anything along those lines.”

“and what if i said i did like her?”

“i’d ask you if you actually know her? you didn’t speak to her after the crash, you didn’t speak to her when she was in the sport so i’m confused to where this would have come from?”

“you can drop the dad act jenson, i’m just being friendly. it looks like max got in there first anyway.”

jenson hummed, “not everything is a competition.”

y/n and max climbed into max’s hire car for the weekend and finally let themselves breathe.

“that was a lot,” y/n said, slipping off her heels, “nico really was out for blood.”

“i found it entertaining, but that usually is a death wish for anything in formula one.”

the pair laughed, and as max turned the ignition, y/n’s taylor swift playlist crackled into life.

“are you heading back to your hotel or do you want to crash at mine?” y/n asked as she put her address into the gps, despite max knowing nearly every route across london to her apartment.

“a chance to avoid team duties for as long as possible? count me in!”

“so you don’t want to spend more time with me? just want to avoid your team?”

max placed his hand on her thigh, “you know i always want to spend more time with you.”

the streets were relatively clear at this time with the event still in swing. max weaved through traffic as they entered west london. the dutchman nestled his car in y/n’s spot for her pink cadillac that was still in monaco. y/n started to fiddle with her heels to put them back on, but max stopped her.

he walked round to her side of the car and picked up her up bridal style. y/n giggled and wrapped her arms around max’s neck. the pair made their way up to her apartment as fast as possible, but made sure to say hi to frank who not so subtlety gave y/n a thumbs up and a wink.

the apartment was quiet without the meows of brando who was also back in monaco with jimmy and sassy. max stopped in the kitchen to pour two glasses of water but y/n went ahead to the bathroom to wash off the grime of the event.

she slipped into bed dressed in her pjamas that consisted of some old gym shorts and one of max’s toro rosso shirts. the dutchman knocked on her door.

“come in, maxy.”

max made his way into the room, placing the glass of water on her beside table. he sat on the edge of the bed, “good night, try not to dream of me too much.” the dutchman leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the door.

“max?”

“yes?”

“will you stay with me?”

“always.”

max got under the covers and tentatively reached out to her. sensing the apprehension, y/n turned over and tucked herself under max’s chin. his arms snuck around her waist and for the first time in three years, y/n finally slept peacefully without the images of her crash.

fin.

note: sorry this took so long, i've been a bit of a writing rut but i'm back!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn@blueberry648579@dog-and-cat-person230@fastandcurious16@obxstiles@cosmicwintr@becca388510@savagittariuspy@tibadi @thisbitxhs-blog @finn-dot-com @scenesofobx @moofilms @alilstressyandlotdepressy @nana-love-bugzzz @mayax2o07 @obsessed-fan-alert @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @jajouska @poppysrin @mimimarvelingmarvel @jiyumie @heeseungthel0ml 

[salemlunaa]

౨ৎ why a “void state pact” isn’t gonna work ౨ৎ

no drama, just saving you from waisting your time.

When the idea of people joining a “pact” to induce the state of pure consciousness for each other first came up, many bloggers have come out to debunk this view that we can all enter the void state for eachother, because you can’t.

And the person who brought up a… lemme just be nice and say a thoughtless idea, and decided to make this post ,with multiple comments agreeing under it, sighhhh

“these bloggers talk about how we are limitless yet we apparently can’t enter the void for others”

“not everyone is the same”

“So nothing is logical, but it’s apparently illogical to manifest others into the “I AM” state?”

I will say this now: the void state pact cannot exist, why? because what you are doing is quantum jumping, reality shifting. For example if i want to manifest my friend Joey to induce the void, I will quantum jump to a reality where she induces the void, she won’t come with me. The reality where she hasn’t managed to induce is still a thing. What i’m experiencing is a reality where Joey induces, but she cannot share my experience. It’s not possible to share an experience with someone as it is our “I AM”. You’re not going to change because of someone else’s “I AM” state intentions.

This may be triggering to read, but to better understand: in the same way, it’s like if someone hated you so much induced void pure consciousness so you could die (like top tier level hatred 💀) , you wouldn’t just randomly drop dead. You’d still be here. But them? they have quantum jumped to a timeline where you’re not here. It’s not a limiting belief, it’s just fact that it’s their experience, you’re not going to die because of someone else’s experience.

Here’s another analogy, let’s say you’re painting in class with your friend, and you all have big canvases to paint many little pictures. Your paintbrush only works on your canvas, it’s not possible for you to paint on your friend’s canvas or anyone else. You can create a small drawing on your canvas depicting your friend eating an apple, but it’s not on their canvas. You can’t paint that picture on their canvas, And it’s not a reflection of their own experiences or preferences. They have to do it themselves or their canvas will NEVER contain a picture of them eating an apple, the version of your friend that is on your canvas is eating an apple but the version of your friend on their own canvas isn’t.The outcome of your friend having a picture of them eating an apple on their canvas is 0, unless they paint it themselves. It’s not a limiting belief because you can paint ANYTHING you want on YOUR canvas, it just won’t show up on theirs.

Again it’s not a limiting belief because you CAN do anything, but YOU are the one who is everything, therefore YOU are the one who experiences everything, and let me just preface: that doesn’t make it any less real and it doesn’t make the loved ones in your life disposable. It just means that you and you alone can experience every single version of someone. You can experience a reality where all your friends induce the void, but only you experiences that. They don’t induce the void with you so they can’t go anywhere with you.

Again, if you would just read bloggers posts and stop trying to force things you would see that the state of pure consciousness is not hard at all, in fact it is first nature to you.

If you believe that this is something you need to work hard for, you don’t understand the void state. If you can’t grasp the fact that no one else can trigger your “I AM” experience, you don’t understand the void state. If you believe that you genuinely can’t do it, you don’t understand the void state. If you believe that there are other people “more capable” than others in doing this, you don’t understand the void state.

If you don’t understand you’ll never get in. It doesn’t take alot to understand. Truly

And as a blogger, I can speak for a lot of us when I say I feel disrespected when I and a lot of others try and explain the state of pure consciousness, and it’s like you completely ignore the help. As if you’re a child blocking your eyes telling yourself you can’t do it on your own. We try and break down the simplicity of it all and it’s like you completely disregard everything we say. I’m not gonna lie, it’s very, very frustrating.

And if you’re feeling even a little bit swayed, where do you see their success stories??💀💀 if one person had already induced then all of that pact should’ve induced right? im waiting for the influx of success stories….but notice how all they’re doing is waiting and complaining… no success in sight

so i’m urging you to please do not follow this void pact thing before you’re still here with them in 2030 relying on others to help you experience YOUR OWN dream life.

Lets be serious pls

🩰🍨do it yourself, it’s the only way

[gotham-daydreams]

Suspicions

Day 3 {Challenge Masterlist}

Getting close, but not close enough. Something's wrong here. How could they have known? Who did this?

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of suicide (only briefly talked about in dialog), cults, occult like acctivites, weird behavior (?), arson (sort of).] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)

------------

Unlike the previous two days, this one starts off rather eventful - which is honestly more common and normal than anyone in the Wayne family liked to admit, but really, it wasn’t their fault they all just worked better in chaos. Nevertheless, for those that weren’t up already, the day is smooth sailing until they exit their rooms - or wherever they slept - and are left to find what’s happened in the batcave.

Tim is one of the last to find out, as he just gets his slow morning started - grabbing a cup of tea to help him wake up instead of coffee, rubbing his eyes to get the tiredness out of them, and starting things off officially with a plate of breakfast. Once that’s done and out of the way, he finally gives himself a good, simple stretch before heading down to the batcave. It’s only there, does he see the mess unfolding.

It’s subtle, sure, but with how long Tim has technically been a Wayne, well, he can tell when something’s going on. Bruce is drinking coffee, and Cassandra, while out of the suit, already looks to be itching to put it back on again. Tim noticed that Stephanie had slept over while he was on his way to the kitchen earlier, but didn’t think much about it - though what caught his attention was the fact that not only was Jason here, but that he was awake. Huh.

“What’s going on here?” Tim asks, voice having its usual echo as he takes a sip of his tea, approaching the little crowd by the batcomputer - taking note of Barbara’s presence as well, have any of them slept?

Cassandra seems to take note of him first, and perks up, though just as she goes to supposedly explain what they’re doing, Jason cuts her off. Instead, he straightens himself out, and asks, “Hey, have you or any of your birds seen anyone weird around, lately? Like, extra shady or just new? Like they come from out of the city?”

Tim raises a brow at the question, “This is Gotham? Every other person looks like someone shady- and what does ‘extra shady’ even mean? And besides, Gotham is a big city, newcomers come in and out everyday,” he points out, and though his response only gets an annoyed groan out of Jason, he can’t help but remain curious, “why? What’s going on this time?”

Jason seems to ignore Tim’s own question, and instead asks, “Okay, have you seen anyone with some weird symbol on them? Something simple that represents a sun, maybe on their neck, wrists, arm, or just some exposed part of their body?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Just as Jason looks like he’s going to throw something, or someone, Tim adds, “but I think a few of the birds have, and- hey, some new officers came in from Metropolis, right? What’s up with that?”

Just as Jason goes to open his mouth again, Cassandra gives him a nudge, and gestures for Tim to come over.

From there, he’s given the gist, and he has the reasonable reaction of just, being confused. While he understands what’s going on, what he doesn’t get is the supposed group itself. While they do seem to be working towards this ‘Red Dawn’, is it something they’re working towards, or merely preparing for? Is there something on that specific day that will happen, and will allow… well, whatever they’re hoping for, to happen? There are a lot of things that are undetermined, but Tim is on board with the general goal - they have to learn more about these people, what they want, and put a stop to it since it has to be something bad that people are killing themselves over it. You were right when you said that the only people they were hurting were themselves, but they were still people, and what if their influence spreads? What if they rope in more people, only for them to die-

Duke rushes into the cave, a smile of sorts on his face and he hurries around the space, gathering a few things here and there - mostly his gear, but some other things too - quickly, as if in a hurry. It was hard not to notice, seeing as he was the only real movement going on in the room and it drew the attention of those at the computer. Tim was the first to question it, asking, “What’s the rush?”

“Patrol!” It was an easy enough answer, but something felt off about it, though Tim couldn’t put a finger on it - no one really could, but those that were paying more attention did notice something.

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Barbara points out, and Duke pauses, chuckling briefly before grabbing his helmet.

“Right- thanks! Anyway, gotta go-!” With that, the young vigilante rushes out of the cave after hurriedly putting on his suit and gear. A few of those in the cave stare, raising a couple of brows or just looking confused before ultimately returning to what they were doing – even if such a sight weirded them out. Cassandra, however, couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the sight as she watched Duke rush out of the cave.

He seemed… really excited to be going on patrol… hm.

Duke could hardly focus on where his feet were going as he rushed out of the house, a warm sort of feeling blooming in his chest as he made his way out of the cave, and through the front door – nearly bumping into someone on the way out. Even if he was able to just barely move out of the way, a quick, “Sorry! I’ve really got to go, Selina!” Leaves him, the words tumbling out of his mouth like how he almost trips over the single step in front of the door. Leaving behind a confused but amused catwoman all the while.

Getting to the city is easy enough, and even more so with a small tug in his chest seemingly guiding Duke somewhere. Does he know where? Not particularly, but he can’t help but have a good feeling about this.

Dropping down in an alley, Duke peaks around a corner to get a glimpse of the city before slipping out – only to bump into someone… somehow.

Shaking it off, he goes to say something – only to stop himself when he sees who it is, what a coincidence. “Oh, [Last Name], what’re you doing here?”

You glance over your shoulder, and raise your brow at the sight of the teenager, “Grabbing breakfast? Why else would I be waiting in line at this breakfast spot?” A small, amused chuckle escapes you as you offer a hand to help him up, and it’s only then that Duke notices he fell at all.

“Oh! Yeah, that… um, makes sense?” Grasping your hand, he pulls himself up and glances to the side awkwardly. This wasn’t very professional, was it? As a vigilante, he was supposed to be better than this – and more, well, vigilant! He had to get it together, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you!

Clearing his throat, Duke meets your eyes once again, “Seems like things are busy here, huh?” Just what the hell was he trying to do? Duke couldn’t understand – he had patrol to do, he couldn’t just sit here and make small talk-

“I guess you could say that, it does seem busier than it has been the last few days, but nevermind that- what’re you doing here, Thomas?” Your grip loosens on his hand, but Duke can’t find it in himself to let go. Not after what you just said, and so casually at that – like knowing his secret identity was common knowledge and not, well, secret!

Duke’s mind races, with him staring at you like your face alone will provide all the answers, and in the midst of his disbelief, a breathless, stunned, “What?” Slips past his lips, and your brows seem to furrow.

“Is something wrong, Thomas-?”

“How-” Duke can barely even speak, his eyes blown wide. He wants to pull away, but it’s like your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded – making him almost hate how real it feels, especially as his hold tightens. With him now grasping onto it like he’s both afraid to let go, and desperate to cling onto something, but what? Duke doesn’t know. Hell, he’s almost scared to know, and that confuses him even more. “How do you know who I am?” It’s a simple question, but it’s spoken so quietly and hesitantly that it’s like Duke himself is unsure if he should’ve spoken at all, or if he even said it to begin with. As if, for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he managed to speak at all, or if his eyes and the way his hand shook had asked the question for him.

It’s beyond confusing, and honestly making Duke’s head hurt the more he tries to make sense of everything. The world spins, and yet zeros in on this moment at the same time, and Duke almost feels like he’s about to fall or even collapse all over again-

Then, he sees your smile and how you turn more towards him, and it’s like he can breathe all over again.

“Well, you’re adopted- or at least being taken care of by Mr. Wayne- aren’t you? It’s pretty hard to not know you, Thomas, especially in Gotham. Which- is sort of like Mr. Wayne’s little empire, don’t you think?” You respond easily, words almost playful as you carefully rest your other hand over his – most would pull away or tell him to stop because of how much it hurts, but you don’t. Almost like you can’t feel it, or just see how much the small action means to him – to hold onto something steady, unmoving, and undeniably real in this moment of confusion, dread, and fear. Maybe it’s both, but who’s to say.

Duke struggles to respond, only managing to stutter out an, “I-” a few times before you decide to spare him once more.

“Granted, I’m surprised to see you out and about so early. A growing boy like you needs his rest, doesn’t he?” Your fingers brush against the back of his hand, and it’s only then that Duke realizes that he’s feeling it on his skin, not though his gloves or suit – and he finally looks down. When… did he put on civilian clothes?

Regardless, he can’t help but ease. The tight tension in his shoulders drops, and Duke exhales, relieved. “Right- well, I was just out grabbing a quick bite to eat. Always good to get outta the house, yeah?” He replies easily, the excuse coming easy to him – and as if on cue, his stomach rumbles… Did he eat breakfast this morning? When’s the last time he’s forgotten something like that?

Your expression softens, and you give a small shrug, “‘Suppose you’re right, can’t really argue with that.” You glance down at his stomach before looking back at the teen, and pull your hand back – an action that makes Duke’s hand twitch before he lets it fall back to his side. “How about you join me?”

Duke can’t help but be taken aback by your request, and stammers a little as he straightens up and says, “I couldn’t- I can’t-”

“Oh, c’mon. It’ll just be a little bite, and besides, I’ve already got a table. Breakfast’s on me, yeah?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“[Last Name]?” A waiter calls out, causing you to perk up.

“Ah, that must be it! Now, c’mon,” you gesture for Duke to follow you inside, “I promise I won’t keep you long. But consider this my thanks for yesterday- I definitely underestimate how big Gotham really is.”

The young vigilante hesitates, unsure if he should follow you or try to decline again. After all, he still had patrol – and with this weird group going around, he couldn’t afford to just go off and push aside his duty for breakfast, could he? In situations like this, it was best to stay on top of things and remain vigilant, wasn’t it?

Duke feels his stomach growl much more insistently this time, and he can practically feel the painful pinch of the void growing inside it… It wouldn’t be good if he did patrol on an empty stomach, would it? After all, he had to be in top shape to properly perform his duties, right? Being on an empty stomach wouldn’t do him any good, and would only hinder him further…

“You comin’, Thomas?” The teen’s feet before he could fully process your words, but he offers a nod and agreement all the same.

Bruce would understand, right?

The waiter leads you and Duke to a booth, and from there, things go smoothly. The silence isn’t as bad as one would think, and for those that didn’t know any better – they’d think you were friends or had some friendly relation since conversation flowed seamlessly and easily. It wasn’t long before your orders were made, with you encouraging Duke to order whatever he liked, and the wait was practically nonexistent. Though, that’s only to be expected when you two got along so well. It may have been weird in any other circumstance, but here, it wasn’t. It was natural, just like everything else was.

Really, only those on the outside looking in could notice anything, and someone eventually did.

Cassandra had felt that something was weird, and with how Duke’s body language had read this morning, she couldn’t help but be curious. Not to mention worried, especially since they had enough things to worry about. So, seeing her brother eating with a cop from Metropolis was… weird to say the least. It felt weirder knowing it was you for some reason, but she couldn’t explain why. You couldn’t have possibly been the reason for Duke’s excitement, could you? No, that didn’t make any sense – unless… you knew each other previously? Would Duke have left something like that out?

Just seeing something like this spawned too many questions, and Cassandra wasn’t getting any from standing across the street. Especially not when your body language reads as calm, happy, and oddly enough – full of energy, along with a trace of confidence. With Duke being almost… too happy, too calm and content for someone that was supposed to be a stranger. You were helping them on the case, of course, but they didn’t know you as civilians. They weren’t supposed to, and yet Duke didn’t have the suit on – where was it?

… She could stand there until you both left, but something told her that wasn’t going to get her anywhere either. Something told her that she had to approach, if only to confront you and get Duke out of there herself. To help him get back on track if anything, and to get some sort of explanation if she was smart about things.

So, approaching the establishment, Cassandra steps inside and wastes no time heading over to where you and Duke are sitting. Resisting the urge to just grab you by the collar and get answers out of you, she simple rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze – which is more than enough to grab your attention.

Looking up at her, a confused expression passes by before another bright smile rests and makes itself home on your face. “Ah, You must be Cain, correct? Or would you prefer Cain-Wayne?” A light laugh escapes as you add, “It’s a bit of a tongue twister, but the choice is really yours, young one.”

Surprised, Cassandra can’t help but blink before her expression hardens and he brows furrow. Taking note of her confusion, you simply say, “I haven’t been here for long, but word travels fast in Gotham! Besides, who wouldn’t know about the children Mr. Wayne has taken in? You’re all a very common topic amongst the city folk, and from your expression – I’m willing to assume you’re surprised to hear that.” There was something in your tone that made those last few words of yours almost sound sarcastic. Cassandra couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it made her narrow her eyes all the same. What were you trying to get at-?

“Cass?” Hearing Duke’s voice makes Cassandra glance at him for a moment, and the look in his eyes rubs her the wrong way. He shouldn’t have an expression like that, not for a stranger, even if you are from Metropolis. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were still… home.” The small pause in his words doesn’t slip past her, and it certainly doesn’t make Cassandra feel any better either, but it isn’t enough to make her leave.

Even as she doesn’t say anything, her eyes say enough, and you notice how Duke tenses slightly while under her gaze. You don’t understand what they’re saying, or whatever they seem to be communicating, but you’re not bothered by it. Communication was a universal thing, after all, and you’ve seen many people find all sorts of ways to do it – with or without words. It’s something you’ve picked up on with time, but that’s a given considering things.

Nevertheless, you speak up and interrupt… whatever it is that’s going on here. “Why don’t you join us, Cain? Thomas was just finishing up, but it’s like they say; the more the merrier!”

Cassandra seems taken aback by your offer, and so does Duke, but you only focus on her for now. Despite not having said a word, it’s like you can feel her growing quieter, and just as you go to say something else, she glances at Duke before promptly taking a seat next to him – nearly pushing him towards the window just to create some space for herself.

Naturally, Duke responds with a surprised, “Hey!” At the sudden intrusion of his space, but ultimately does little to get it back, and instead moves over to grant Cassandra her desired space.

From there, you carry on as you did before, but the younger ones across from you seem awkward – you can’t decipher a reason for this, not on your own, but a few eventually come to you and you try to work around it as best you can. At the start, things are strained and it’s obvious that there is something more than what both are deciding to show. Which, while smart, is inconvenient at best.

Regardless, you do what you can to spark conversation. Duke responds well enough after a few questions that ease him back into the flow of things, but Cassandra takes a while longer. Though that only makes sense since she’s just gotten into things, and is only starting to get into that flow as well. It’s not hard to notice that she’s simply just observing for now, and most likely wants to keep it that way, but you didn’t make that offer for her to just watch.

You start with something to drink, offering coffee since that seemed to be a common choice around here, and even take a sip of your own beverage while you were at it, and ask if Duke wanted anything else. It’s always the little things that count, but of course Cassandra remains as she is, and doesn’t respond. It’s only after a good minute or so does she get something, though if it’s to ‘blend in’ easier or because she genuinely wanted something to drink, you couldn’t tell – but that didn’t matter. Eventually, she gives you small responses by nodding or shaking her head, among other small gestures that seem to give just enough information to count as some sort of reaction. Cassandra was responding and reacting more to things Duke was saying, but that didn’t bother you. She was beginning to ease up, and that’s what ultimately counts.

Then, you’re given a golden opportunity as her stomach gives a small rumble. It’s barely noticeable, and not even Duke hears it, but Cassandra does and you notice her reaction well enough to tell. Of course, you give her the same offer you gave to Duke earlier – and even if she is more hesitant and reluctant, you take a risk and push things as you get her something. Just as before, the wait is hardly long at all – even if Cassandra seemed to feel it more than you did – and when it comes, it takes her a bit to even poke at it, but she caves eventually.

From there, everything eases just as it did before. Whatever you picked, she ends up liking it, and the conversation flows much better now that Cassandra is less tense. Your smile from before remains, and the morning carries on splendidly.

However, as with all things, it eventually comes to an end as you get a notification on your mobile device, and a small huff escapes you. Things are coming along, but it’s time to call it – you’ve been here long enough. You signal for the check, and once it arrives, you simply say, “Well this has been nice, hasn’t it? I don’t know what I expected, but I’m pleasantly surprised by both of you. This has been… eye opening, as one would say,” you muse, another light laugh escaping you, “but I’ve kept you both for long enough. I’m sure you both have places to be.” You don’t even look as the waiter takes the check back after you slip on your Rose Bank card.

Duke seems to tense slightly, and stops you from standing as he shoots up from his seat, “Wait, do you have to go right now? If there’s anywhere you need to go, I could take you-” You wave him off, and shake your head.

“There’s no need, I know my way around well enough, but thank you-” Cassandra moves to stand as well, and before she can even fully get out, Duke scrambles to get out of the booth and stand in front of you.

“You just got here a bit ago, right? I’m sure I can still help-”

“Thomas, I assure you I’m fine. I’m just heading back to the station,” you handle the check and slip your card back into your wallet when the waiter comes back around. Duke struggles to speak, and Cassandra seems concerned. Hm.

Exhaling softly, you give the teen a pat on his shoulder, “If anything happens, remember, you can always contact the GCPD if need be, alright?” Duke didn’t seem too pleased with that response, but all it takes is one more long look before he averts his gaze and nods.

“Yeah, yeah… alright.” You grin, and give him another pat.

“Perfect! See you around, kid!” With that, you leave without a second thought, feeling more confident then before – and Cassandra could tell. Of course she could, but before she could think about why you were going to the station this early in the day, her eyes drift back to Duke, and she can’t help but pause. His body language and overall attitude is completely different now… but… why? What could have made him so upset?

The young vigilante glances up when she hears the small bell of the door, indicating your leave… and she doesn’t know why, but she can’t help but feel disappointed.

— — — — — —

Making your way to the station is easy enough, and as you check the time, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Just in time.

You turn around, and are greeted by the sight of blue eyes and dark hair – honestly, if his face shape was different, you’d think he was Bruce. It’s almost weird that they aren’t biologically related, but that’s the funny thing about genetics, you suppose.

Nevertheless, you offer a smile as always, “I got your call, but I didn’t expect to be meeting you in Gotham this soon, Grayson. You really are punctual. Though noon is an odd time to meet up, don’t you think?” Richard – or as everyone apparently calls him, Dick – just gives a smile of his own that borders on a smirk, and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Couldn’t think of a better time, and besides, it isn’t that bad. It’s just in time for lunch!” You hum at his response, finding it a bit curious before giving a nod.

“Well, when you put it like that it almost sounds smart,” You chuckle out, watching as his face contorts slightly. “Regardless, I got your call. You wanted to discuss the case?”

Dick doesn’t seem to appreciate your little jab, nor how you brush past it so fast – but just huffs before giving a nod. “Yeah, some guys said you’d know some things…? Or that someone here did?” You raise a brow before a look of confusion settles on your face.

“A few of us here do, but the one that would know the most would be detective Greenwood,” yet, you pause, as if thinking for a moment before adding, “I assume the situation in Bludhaven has gotten worse?”

The sigh that escapes him is telling enough, even more so with how he rubs the back of his neck, and the nod he gives is almost guilty. “Yeah… and even saying that feels like you’re sugar coating it.” Hm, must be like Metropolis then – that’s good to know. “I guess Ludwig told you?”

“Among a few other things, but just gave a general idea,” Dick visibly deflates at your words, and so, as if extending an olive branch of sorts, you gesture to a cafe nearby. “How about we get you some coffee and a quick bite to eat, hm? Can’t imagine getting here was an easy trip.”

Dick’s practically already following you to the small shop when you make your offer, and a low, exaggerated groan escapes him. “You don’t even know the half of it, it’s like Gotham’s become some highly sought out tourist destination overnight! It’s insanity, I tell you- makes no sense! The people who live here don’t like it enough as it is, why would anyone else want to be here?”

You shrug your shoulders, and guide both of you over to the cafe, “Not a clue, but it is weird when you put it like that. But maybe it’s nothing, who knows? We’ve got enough to deal with, anyway.”

“Tell me about it… not like there's anyone around here that wants to deal with this kind of weather. It feels way too warm for fall, if you ask me.” Dick mumbles, making his way over to the counter to order, and you only partially shrug, giving another nod in half agreement. You didn’t feel a difference, but it could just be because you’re used to it.

“I guess so,” you say, pulling out your wallet to pay – seeing as you offered to begin with. Obviously, Dick notices and doesn’t move to stop you, but can’t help but raise a brow.

“Aren’t you going to get anything?”

You glance at him for a moment before huffing softly, almost as if amused by what he said, and just hand the cashier your Rose Bank card to pay.

“I had a filling brunch.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Despite everything that’s been going on, this is probably one of their more organized efforts to tackle the night – which is really saying something, since there’s always been attempts, but it’s hard to be orderly amidst chaos. Something that Gotham practically breeds, even if this particular strain comes from out of town.

Tim and Duke are in the manor running tests on the organic material Stephanie and Jason had managed to get from the other night, with Barbara doing similar work in the clock tower. The others are out in the city, with Bruce running some things by Gordon, Selina being god knows where, and the others tracking some shipment while taking care of minor crimes and such along the way.

It’s almost… weird how coordinated this ‘cult’ seems to be, not to mention just how many people seem to be in on this thing. There didn’t seem to be an exact number at the moment, and if they really did split up, then there may even be more members that they weren’t aware of that have taken refuge outside of Gotham-

Point is, there were definitely a lot of people in this cult. Maybe even too many to coordinate and organize, at least for them to work so in sync with one another as they were now. It’d make more sense if they were only in Gotham, but until they got Clark’s report, no one could be sure of that – even if Dick responding so readily when Bruce had called him in was telling enough on its own. There was also the possibility of there being multiple organizers and leaders for this, which seems like the obvious choice, but even so – who could get a system in place that works this smoothly? It’s almost unnatural. Uncanny, even. Not to mention it doesn’t make sense if there’s no incentive for these people to be doing all of this-

Tim couldn’t figure it out, anyway. It felt like there was still so much they didn’t know yet, and like one thing was happening right after the other. Despite not being out in the city himself, he could use his birds as his eyes to see outside while he remained in the cave – so, in a way he was also tracking the cult. What Tim found weird himself is that you didn’t think the cult had a proper name, or that they weren’t called after the event all of these groups seem to be working towards. It made the most logical sense that they would be, or at least something similar to it – but you, someone who's been working on this case longer than anyone they knew at the moment, disagreed. Why? Regardless, aside from this supposed ‘Red Dawn’, what incentive did… well, anyone have to be a part of the cult to begin with? Did the event itself grant them something? What even was the Red Dawn? What did it have to do with all this soil and sand?

There were too many questions and not enough answers, but he supposes that’s why they’re even investigating to begin with. Though, if Tim had a say in this – it feels too organized to be something that only started three or so days ago. Have they really only been in Gotham for just a couple of days? If what his birds are seeing is real, then it’s more likely that they’ve been here for months-

[“Oh, would you look at that? They split again. Geez, really makes you wonder why they’re moving this stuff around like this. Seems ssseriously inefficient if you ask me.” Jason’s voice sparks in the commlink, tone sarcastic and rough.]

[“Agreed, there hardly seems to be a purpose to such tactics.” Damian huffs, going quiet for a moment only to add, “Unless they really are trying to distract us.”]

Tim perks up at this, and uses a nearby bird to perch on top of one of the telephone lines that go across the street. Watching as the next load of… whatever this cult was hauling and bringing around, drives off down the street. Some of it in a truck, and the other half of it in various cars. Not exactly subtle, but it would be hard to keep track of it all if one person was trying to keep tabs on things. Especially if said person was human.

[“Gonna have to agree with you guys, these people… they’re doing something, alright.” Stephanie chimes in, the suspicion clear in her voice.]

“What does that mean?” Tim can’t help but ask, trying to focus on the sample he’s analyzing, but can’t help but focus more on what his birds are seeing – especially when it’s more interesting the shuffling through samples of dirt.

[Stephanie sighs, “Seems like they’re trying to spread this stuff all around. Parks, gardens, bakeries, flower shops- all kinds of places, and from the looks of things? Whatever they’re doing here, it’s getting to other civilians as well. Guards and employees are helping them, and not just to open the back door either.”]

[“Someone open the front door?” Jason asks rhetorically.]

[Stephanic stiffs a chuckle, but Cassandra responds with a curt, “Yes. And storage.”]

[Jason was quiet for a moment before a small, “... Right, ‘course they did.”]

With his birds, Tim is able to follow as many trails as he can – and upon noticing a particularly weird detail, his brows furrow. “They… looped back around.”

[“Yep, I see them. Right back at the gardens… weird.” Stephanie confirms, sounding equally confused.]

[“They’re obviously trying to play us, but why? So they can plant more of this… red shit everywhere?” Jason can’t help but question.]

Tim shakes his head, which the closest bird to Jason and Damian emulates, “No, that doesn’t make sense. They’ve got loads of this stuff all over Gotham- I don’t see why they’d need more, unless…” He grows quiet, thinking for a moment before he looks down at the sample he’s supposed to be examining. Were they thinking of this the wrong way?

[“Unless… what?” Stephanie asks.]

He tries to think of a way to explain it, fumbling for a moment before just saying, “Well, do we even know what this stuff does?”

[“That’s what we have you looking at it for, yeah? Shouldn’t you or Barbara, or hell- even Duke know?” Jason chips in again.]

[Damian sucks his teeth, “Of course you can’t even do the one job we actually give you, Drake.”]

Tim can practically feel the disdain in Damian’s voice as he says his last name, which makes his brow twitch – but he shakes it off. He tries to, at least.

“I’m trying! I just… don’t know what I’m looking at, or why, okay? This whole situation is… weird.”

[“Look, Tim, people… people died over this stuff. There’s gotta be something weird about it. Maybe weird chemicals or…?” Stephanie tries to suggest.]

The watcher huffs at the reminder, but ultimately relents as he gives it another look while still having his birds keep tabs on things. All he sees is the same thing, and as he increases the magnification on the microscope, he only finds himself growing more… confused. More weirded out than anything, and a little curious, sure, but confused all the same.

Leaning back, he takes a breath, “I don’t understand, it looks alien… but how can that even be possible?”

[“We work with aliens, is it really that strange, Drake?”]

“I know that- but this is like- different! The organisms in the dirt are being taken over by something- and it’s like it’s both trying to take over and adapt to it?”

[“Like… a parasite trying to get used to its host?”]

“Kind of? It’s hard to explain… and this substance in the dirt- no wonder some of it looks like sand…”

[“So, instead of ‘getting used to’ the host, it’s killing it.” Jason suggests.]

“Yeah, like it can’t adapt properly or… is valuing infection over adaptation. It seems to feed on organic material and create more- but there’s something weird about it too.”

[“... And that is?”]

Tim hesitates for a moment, unsure himself, before eventually just putting the idea out there. “Well, at this pace… if their plan is for it to infect all the organic material in Gotham for whatever reason, then this is a seriously inefficient way to do it. Their plan here isn’t to have this stuff in all the dirt - at least, not to change it all. It seems more like a byproduct of whatever they’re trying to do with it.”

[“Well, what’s in the dirt, Tim?” Stephanie asks.]

“That’s the thing- I have no idea. It’s like its own organism, but I haven’t seen anything like this. It’s completely alien, and I doubt it’s the friendly kind.”

[“Well- I have to agree with you there. If it was… well, who knows how this would go. But nothing about all of this particularly screams ‘friendly’.”]

[“Did the people shooting themselves give that away?” Jason sarcastically quips.]

[“The purposefully suspicious activity certainly doesn’t help.” Damian adds, sounding equally pleased.]

Tim zones out of the conversation, glancing back at the samples Jason and Stephanie were able to bring in that he hasn’t fully looked at yet. The samples themselves don’t seem to ‘decay’ necessarily, and it seems to take them a while to eat away at the dirt or sand they’ve been ‘mixed’ with – from the looks of things, anyway.

No, if anything it gives the impression of a substance trying to reach homeostasis. Since, it’s either that or it’s trying to revert back to it’s original state for… whatever reason. Whatever other material it produces in that process is simply a byproduct of its efforts. The real question is why. Why is it trying to change? Why is it working to do… whatever it’s trying to do?

Mindlessly, Tim’s blank eyes drift over to where Duke was sitting, only to pause.

The teenager was hunched over, entirely focused on the task at hand – and whereas that isn’t inherently a bad thing, Duke hardly seems to be breathing, like the smallest gust of air or wind will tamper with the sample so much. Taking too much precaution when it comes to treating it. Not like it’s dangerous, but like it’s precious, like handling something more fragile than glass.

The sight alone makes Tim feel unnerved, and as his senses heighten – its only then does he pick up on the faintest smell. What… what is that-?

[“Oh shit- we’ve got to bounce. Now-!”]

[“Agreed. How did you even manage to-?”]

[“Let’s save the questions for when we’re out of the burning warehouse.”]

Tim blinks, eyes blowing wide as he looks away from Duke and focuses back on what’s going on. Using one of his birds, he can see that a warehouse is, in fact, on fire – and it is growing fast. “Steph-”

[“Already made the call, fire department is on the way but- how in the world did you guys even manage to set the whole place on fire?”]

[“Don’t lump me in with this brainless brute-” Damian’s complaint is cut off.]

[“I didn’t even expect the stuff to catch that fast! Just- ugh,” Jason groans, the subtle sound of the warehouse coming apart is just barely audible through the comlink. “Do everyone a favor, and keep those samples away from fire. That shit lights faster than propane.”]

“Even if it spreads quickly, how did the fire get strong that fast?!”

[“Hell if I know! You said this crap is alien, right? How is anyone supposed to figure it’d have so much kick!?”]

“You knew it could set on fire?!”

[“Last I checked, dirt isn’t flammable- of COURSE I DIDN’T KNOW!”]

[“Guys! Just- focus on getting out of there! We can figure out all of this once we regroup. Meet me and Cass at the station. We need to tell Bruce about this.”]

Tim glances at Duke once again, who’s hand twitches slightly, and the watcher grows quiet before looking back at his own sample.

… Could this night get any weirder?

— — — — – – – – – – — – – –

Eventually, towards the heart of the night, Bruce is able to reach the batcave once more, and everyone recounts what they found or learned – minus certain individuals.

The discussion is as chaotic as one would imagine, but the main points get across eventually, albeit between suspicions a few of them had, and more speculation on what could be going on. The biggest question is why this group had chosen Gotham of all places, if they really have been here recently or have been in the city for longer, who Tim and Cass were able to identify as members of the cult, and so on.

Whoever was organizing this was clearly doing something to the people following them. How perfect everything seemed to flow without their presence was uncanny and unnatural, not to mention how readily members have killed themselves without a hint of hesitation. Honestly, it was terrifying – and the fact there was still so much left unknown wasn’t helping. Not knowing who was behind this, or at least in charge of the group in Gotham was setting them back – and the risk of confrontation was too high. There was no telling if they’d dispose of themself just as quickly as the other members of the cult, but that was assuming there even were other leaders in place.

They certainly had their influencers and people who brought in more members into their cult, but for some reasons… most of the vigilantes had a feeling that there wasn’t. That there was just one person in control – the lack of evidence on that end didn’t help, but they sort of just knew. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to fully dismiss anything, even if some of them were pretty set on a couple of things. Duke, Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra in particular. Bruce was… well, himself, but he seemed to have his mind set as well even if he left the door open for possibilities.

If this was really alien, who knows what they’re dealing with – and if what Clark said earlier was true, then it’s definitely mind altering, at the very least. Though, that did pose another question entirely about you and the cops that came in from Metropolis.

Were any of you under the influence of this… alien substance?

They weren’t given much time to dwell on that as something pops up on the batcomputer – a notification of sorts. “Ah, must be Clark.” Bruce mumbles, already working on displaying and finding out all the information Clark had gathered.

A map of the United States first flashes onto the many screens, before red dots begin to appear on the map. Like little fairy lights, they flicker on, and don’t stop until it looks like the country has got the bad case of chickenpox. Then, it zooms out, showing the whole world map, and more dots appear. They’re sparse in some areas compared to others, but the message is made clear enough.

Yet, before anyone could fully digest even the point Clark was trying to make, the funniest thing happens.

The dots begin to move. They weren’t just markers, they were trackers.

Some move faster than others, all of them blinking for a moment before shifting, showing their movement. There aren’t any labels, but the direction seems to be clear enough. Especially as the map zooms back into the United States, and shows the movement there a little more clearly.

On the East Coast, all of the dots closest to there seem to be moving towards two cities in particular – but before it can be shown where they are clearly moving towards, the power cuts. The batcave is swallowed by darkness, and the vigilante family is left in complete darkness for a few moments. The cave being the most dark any of them have seen it, and the silence near deafening.

It doesn’t take long for the lights to flicker back on, but they have the oddest shade of pink, and as everything powers back on – the ventilation is still paused, and something else has taken place of the map on the batcomputer – it’s taken over every screen even remotely connected to the advanced computer, actually.

A red solar eclipse with a timer right on the bottom, counting down. No explanation, nothing aside from the eclipse and countdown.

There’s no way someone in the cult could’ve got into the system, and especially not tonight when they were all on high alert and keeping an eye on them! It wasn’t possible, the security in the cave and manor would’ve been enough to stop anyone from getting in, or at least notified any of them if someone had gotten in. Hell, Damian’s sense and trigger would have alerted him if anyone had so much as stepped onto the property that wasn’t supposed to be there. There are too many precautions put into place for this to happen – and for the sight to stay on screen as well.

That didn’t leave many possibilities, and it was less about the why and more about how this could even happen. Which, amongst the options to shift through… with the threat they were dealing with here, only one seemed to stick out and seemed the most plausible.

There was a traitor among them.

[clowncarbrain]

This ^^^

Could y’all imagine if we were all like… nice to each other? And respected each other’s personal beliefs? Because everyone’s practice is different?

I saw yet another person basically telling someone that their curse would backfire and they would suffer the curse because apparently that’s what curses do… Like I’ve done baneful magic before, and I know for a fact that it didn’t backfire because my life since has been better than ever

Yes, protect yourself, I recommend it! But I’d think someone who’s never even done baneful magic wouldn’t know enough on it to advise others against it…

We all have different experiences and different rules we abide by in our practice… Once again, I urge people to respect each other’s beliefs

(Just to clarify before someone takes it out of context, I am not talking about bigoted beliefs. Transphobes, homophobes, racists, ableists, etc can all fuck off. You can’t disagree with someone’s existence)

Just because you don't do a type of magic (baneful magic, death magic, sex magic, curses, spirit work, etc) doesn't mean other people shouldn't.

If you don't like baneful magic? OK 👍 don't do baneful magic. But also don't harass witches who do. Their practice is not yours.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend. 

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm. 

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.” 

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.” 

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell. 

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio. 

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst. 

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he  might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No. 

You. 

Own. 

Him. 

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty. 

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man. 

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend 

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message. 

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be 

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me? 

… … … 

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight? 

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened. 

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight.  Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles. 

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…” 

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt. 

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking. 

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach. 

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy. 

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips.  You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again. 

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.” 

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck. 

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

[justastargirlbabe]

Assurance | R. Cameron

insecure!reader x bf!rafe

Warnings: oral (fem.receiving), reader is insecure of her body, aftercare, i think thats it...

summary: You can always count on your boyfriend to show you how beautiful you are.

Friday night, you and rafe ALWAYS go out on friday night… but instead you're sitting on the floor doom scrolling. Your mind is racing seeing all these gorgeous girls online. Oh how you wanted to be those girls so bad.You've always hated your body, constantly getting those weird subtle comments on it from peers and family, and it didn’t get any better once you started dating rafe. You never missed any of the stares you get at the club pool, or the whispers from kook bitches, or surprised looks from adults when they find out about your relationship with rafe. Of Course you love Rafe with all of your heart but everything has just been getting too much and you hate your body more than ever. 

You've been rejecting invites from your friends, completely avoiding going out, and ignoring rafe. *19 unread notifications from: Rafey <3*, your phone read. Turning down the music you throw your phone on the floor,Bringing your knees up to your chest as you start whimpering, and then it all comes out and you're completely sobbing on the floor.

in the middle of your breakdown you miss the sound of your door opening and suddenly here Rafe yelling " Babe where are you?? why are you ignoring me, is everything okay”. he worryingly pushes the door open, you don't move. " baby what's going on, are you okay why are you crying, talk to me mamas” Rafe pleads to you worryingly. " Go away, don't look at me, please just leave I'm fine”  you say, wiping your tears, putting on a fake smile. Rafe pulls you into his arms despite your protests, “babe please just talk to me, whatever it is I'll make it better I promise let me help you” Finally you give in. “it's just- it's just why do you even love me when I look like this? all these other girls with their skinny bodies and Rich families and you want me?”  you say whilst sobbing, tears starting to cover his shirt . "Oh honey, you're beautiful and I don't care about money or these Other girls, I love you, only you, all right Mama”. he wipes off a few tears and kisses your burning cheeks you cling to him wrapping your arms and legs around his muscular body. he lifts you up and sits you on the bed kneeling in front of you. “Is this why you've been hiding from me all week? dodging my calls and texts because you don't think you're beautiful?” He questions, looking for an answer.You nod your head, “it's all just becoming too much for me, all the people at the club with their opinions and Nasty looks, I guess it just made me realize I'm not good enough for you” you say scared of Rafe’s response. “I'm sorry baby, if there's anyone specifically who's been upsetting you please let me know so I can deal with it. I always want you to be comfortable when you’re with me,ok?” You nod your head again too overwhelmed to respond. Rafe senses your tense body. "you know what baby, let me just show you how beautiful I think you are.”  Rafe smirks, your eyes go wide. He slowly lifts off your, his, oversized shirt. you're holding your breath as he kisses your stomach whispering.“ my girl is so beautiful”. Your bra goes next, and suddenly Rafe is sucking your nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud. you push his face into you and throw your head back. “you like that don't you Mama, going to make you feel so good baby”. you moan in response. he kisses his way to the band of your pajama pants, he lifts your hips and pulls down the pants, your panties along with them. he looks up at your speechless face. “fuck honey, your soaking, is that all for me?” he patiently waits for your response. “Yes daddy, please I need you to touch” you blabber. “ ‘m need your special kisses so bad”. “don't worry your sexy little head mama, ima take good care of you bub”. He moves up and kisses you passionately on the lips, taking time to suck on your tongue, pulling away with a ‘pop’. He moves in between your legs and drags his finger through your folds. Muttering under his breath. He places a delicate kiss on your clit, and moves down to your dripping hole. He sticks his tongue in, swirling it around and licks a stripe up back to your clit sucking it into his mouth. making you yell out in pleasure. Hearing how much you're enjoying it, he sucks harder, bringing up two digits to finger your pussy. “Fuck daddy, i dont think i can take it much longer.” you plead. “Shh Mama you'll take what I give you, my gorgeous little slut”. His words make you clench around his fingers. “fuck you're so close. I can feel you squeezing honey”. He pumps his fingers at a tiring pace, only replacing them with his tongue and slapping your clit when he hears your screams.

He comes to hold you, trying to calm your restless body, as you come down from an overwhelming high. Once you’ve relaxed, you grab at his pants to return the favor, your mind still fuzzy. “Uh-uh sweet girl” he tuts, pushing your hand a way pulling you closer. “But”, you protest but you're silenced by his endearing voice. “no baby,let me take care of you ‘kay?”. You allow him to place you on the bed, your body craving his touch when he left to fetch a towel from the bathroom. “Spread your legs baby”. He says sweetly. gently wiping your sensitive pussy, covered in liquids, and gives one quick kiss to your clit, causing you to jolt. He takes his shirt off, knowing you'll need skin-to-skin contact, and lays your head on his chest. You lay there listening to him muttering sweet nothings and giving gentle kisses to your temple and neck. Finally feeling some sort of assurance that you were missing.   

I think this is kinda bad, because it is my first time writing...But please let me know if there's any ways i can improve, and feel free to send requests!!

[deusvervewrites]

I would say it is weird that people think Midoriya is childishly naive when his very first phrase of the story is "not all men are created equal", when the first chapter has Midoriya going about how he was deluding himself, when he talks again and again how lucky and blessed he is, but we have already concluded Horikoshi needs some sledgehammers.

But yeah, people seem to look down in a way at empathy, when having empathy despite everything Midoriya has gone through shows his strength. He could have easily just have given up, but that isn't who Midoriya is.

I've touched on it before, and others have gone into far more detail about it, both in other media and in general, but there's a deceptively cruel undercurrent throughout an alarmingly vast percentage of media. A single, insidious idea that has been reused and recycled and repeated.

THE VILLAIN MUST DIE

Think about that for a moment. Really, think about it. Why does the villain have to die? Think about all the works out there about the cycle of revenge. Think about all the works out there about how you should be kind to one another. Hell, just pick a Disney film. No matter how Heroic the hero. No matter how central mercy is to the theme. And yet.

THE VILLAIN MUST DIE

Sometimes they dress it up fancy. A Villain rejects the offered hand only to accidentally kill themselves, as in Tarzan or countless others. Or their own scheme ends up killing them without the Hero doing it. Sometimes it is the hero, by some accident.

And it makes sense, right? The villains do horrible, awful things, and many of them show no signs of remorse or even stopping. Taking them out is for the best, right?

THE VILLAIN MUST DIE

Why.

How can they not choke on the hypocrisy. How can they stand there and tell us that love and compassion and understanding will lead Darth Vader from the Dark Side but the Emperor needs a one-way trip down the reactor chute?

THE VILLAIN MUST DIE

It's much cleaner, as a narrative. When the noble hero slays the evil king, there's never any depiction of the inevitable succession crisis that would ensue. Imagine having to... reform? From the worst possible version of yourself, a character in blood stepped in so far that, should they wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er? Having to try and do better? Even if they could never atone? Even if it could never be made right? But yet. But yet. You still have to live and do better?

THE VILLAIN MUST DIE

Why?

I know. Help us all do I know that there are people out there that will not change. Are staunchly against changing. Would die before they ever had a second thought about their actions. But. But. They are still, first and foremost, people.

And yet.

THE VILLAIN MUST DIE

WHY?

This world has no end of fools who mistake weakness for strength and boast their foolishness from the rooftops. People who think that kindness is a weakness and compassion a curse.

I can't help but wonder what this world could be if we all held each other with a bit more empathy.

Since recorded history began, people have sold their hearts for power. This weakness should not be celebrated. Power means nothing.

Midoriya's empathy is his greatest strength. It's the thing that makes him a Hero.

And I'm glad that there's been a trend lately in Shonen Jump towards empathic protagonists. The Promised Neverland. Demon Slayer. Dr. Stone. My Hero Academia. All of these works can't help but wonder what this world could be.

How are we meant to make the world better if we can't imagine a better world? How are we meant to dedicate our lives, knowing that perhaps that kind world is far away from here, that we may have to miss it because it's far beyond our years, if we think it's impossible?

WHY DOES THE VILLAIN HAVE TO DIE?

WHY IS IT EASIER TO SEE THE ENEMY THAN A PERSON?

WHO ARE YOU LETTING CONVINCE YOU THAT DEATH CAN BE DESERVED?

People act this way about Midoriya because that's how we are trained to experience media. He is, by the nature of his kindness, a subversion of expectations. The idea of treating the enemy like a person, understanding why they act the way they do, why they want to hurt, that's... difficult. It can be hard to remember in the face of human cruelty and depravity. But you must. If you can't understand then you can't prevent it. Yes, there are people who must be stopped. Yes, characters in fiction reflect this fact.

Even so.

To say that the villain must die, that is a justification of violence that has been used by real humans to cause real harm.

But it doesn't have to be that way.

As I said above, media has shifted recently. It's small, and I doubt it will be mainstream anytime soon, but the shift is there. Not just in shonen, but other places as well.

"We have a saying, my people. Don’t kill if you can wound, don’t wound if you can subdue, don’t subdue if you can pacify, and don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it."

-Wonder Woman, Gail Simone

[rongzhi]

(Apologies in advance for typos.)

^ My original tags on this, but actually, I wanted to expand on my views about this a little bit based on some other collected musings I had about the XHS move (which—now that the dust has settled a bit, is it still going on? I don't even know). I'll preface this by saying that my own XHS has been pretty much spared of the wave of American signups, since my feed is mostly art/tattoos and not so much lifestyle/vlogs.

Mainly, I wanted to dig into that feeling of being "over it", a sentiment I've seen circulated on Tumblr by other Chinese diaspora. I think it's a IYKYK situation in some ways but I wonder if non-Chinese diaspora are precisely aware of why there is a underlying sense of caution and this side-eyeing toward everything going on. (To an extent, I think non-Americans who have to deal with us Americans dominating internet spaces probably also have some insight into this.)

Essentially, after that initial cute "haha" feeling of seeing people jump into a new space and meeting all the new people, for me personally, just from having run this blog for 4 years now, I feel distinctly aware that things could go wrong.

Others have said it better, be it pointing out the infantilising or inherent sinophobia, but there is a slant to that attitude of jumping on a new app and discovering that Chinese people can be funny, that they can be kind, that they are sociable and, in basic terms, "just like you", that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. Oh, you just realised that? People can argue that it was never possible to connect with Chinese netizens before all they want, but in fact, clearly, it was as easy as downloading an app that's free on U.S app stores. Next, you could say, well, there's cultural exchange happening now, which is better than nothing, so what are you so pissy about! I agree, I'm not saying it's a bad thing that some Americans are finally making some attempt to converse with someone outside of their Western, Anglo internet bubble (even if they did so as in the comfort of what is essentially another bubble, as part of a trend). Obviously there is a net good to a person joining XHS, and my wariness mostly comes down to this sense of "discovery" coming with a feeling that Chinese people are still getting lumped into a monolith. Maybe now the monolith is nice and friendly; now the monolith is cute and funny and helpful.

What happens if the Tiktokers realise that some Chinese people also are more socially conservative, or that there are societal issues that Chinese people still have to work through, which aren't ideal or progressive enough for the Enlightened Americans—then what? I've already seen the answer in smaller doses over the years, so I don't know about others, but this is something that I—maybe—hopefully just cynically—can't help but keep my ears tuned towards: the other shoe dropping. Again, for Chinese diaspora (and no doubt, diaspora of any culture in a similar situation), it's "if you know, you know"; we've seen the fickleness of attitudes. The xenophobia and sinophobia that run rampant in U.S society (and I'm sure other western countries, but I speak as a USian) is well known to us in a way that mainlanders often don't take heed toward. Even if there is a sinophobic backlash over anything that arises online, the brunt of it won't be felt by Chinese netizens but us Chinese diaspora who spend the most time in Anglo internet spaces. So, I'm a bit over it all. I've seen how interest in China can play out—for example, how learning Mandarin or being a fan of cdramas or hanfu hardly frees a person of their sinophobia or from regurgitating xenophobic talking points.

It's nice but naive to think that the majority of the tiktokers playing around on XHS right now, trading memes and basking in the numbers of Chinese social media, will truly self-interrogate all too deeply. If some of them seem to have only just realised that Chinese people are ~so nice~, how Other have they been seeing Chinese diaspora? Is that still the case? Will they necessarily make the same effort to know and listen to Chinese diaspora? (People in cfandom will know the answer).

Again, I think there's an overall positive to all this, especially in this ~political climate~ (altho I doubt the people who need positive interaction with Chinese people the most downloaded XHS lol). I guess I just wanted to add all this because because I feel like my first response was quite vague and on second thought, I figured I might as well try to unravel some of my thoughts and impart them to anyone who maybe had no idea there was this perspective to things. Call me jaded or no fun at parties all you like, but that's literally just how it is.

Lastly, I'll just say that from me scrolling douyin, I've also seen how people in China have reacted to the influx of Americans on XHS, so I can tell you a little bit of the other side. It also corresponds a little with what I'm trying (but maybe failing) to say about Chinese diaspora: the people who have been having as much/equal fun with the convergence of internet spaces have been mainlanders with no general dealings with Americans. In the past week, the bloggers I've seen who've been vocal/warning about Chinese people not bending over backwards to start speaking English all the time, or just following/kissing up to Americans because they're white*, have been Chinese netizens—mainly students—who live/study abroad.

* Yes, obviously there are non-White Americans, but white people are, as ever, uplifted the most by society on the basis of being white. We know this.

how do you feel about so many americans getting on 小红书?

[xxgoldie]

seth lowell x gn!reader, reader smokes and it's plot relevant, mentions of alcohol, tipsy flirting, seth is a flustered mess, i can only pray for the confidence i gave reader in this wc: 796

thinking about seth, who gets dragged to a nightclub after he failed to say no to several escalations of the usual thursday post-work drinks, definitely tipsy and trying to flirt with you. the key word being 'trying', because he's really not very good at it, but his earnest efforts and the cute way he flushes and his ears perk up whenever you reciprocate might just be winning you over.

he'd spotted you while he was taking a breather in the smoking area, almost transfixed as he watched you leaning against the brick wall of the club's exterior and swapping between people-watching and observing the swirls of cigarette smoke that left your mouth. he hadn't even realised he was staring until you caught him doing it, an airy chuckle leaving you as he whipped his head away when you made eye contact.

"you can say hi, kitty, I don't bite."

he couldn't really remember what he'd replied or how exactly you'd gotten him talking, but before he knew it seth was next to you, side leaning against that same brick wall, heart hammering the entire time he chatted with you. he'd learned several details about you, but other than your name, a few stuck in his mind;

you were unbelievably cool. you were much more at home in nightclubs than he was. and you were undeniably and crazily out of his league.

yet, for all his fumbled compliments and awkward laughter, you were still there. steadily shifting closer to him. hand brushing against his arm. giggling at his attempts at jokes. eyes locked on his flustered face even as he struggled to maintain eye contact. and he swore that in one of the brief moments he managed to hold your gaze, he saw your eyes flicker to his lips.

seth doesn't smoke, but you do, and the smoking area was much better for chatting anyway. as much as every other word that came out of his mouth made him cringe, whatever he was doing was definitely working better than he'd ever fare on the dance floor - questionable dance skills aside, god knows he'd probably combust with your body pressed against his in the packed space. so the two of you remain outside, and seth watches you smoke and desperately tries to find his footing in the conversation as your every word and move backs his racing heart into a corner it doesn't particularly mind being in.

"d'you want to try it?"

your question comes almost out of nowhere, prompted only by the way seth watched you take a long inhale from the cigarette. he manages out a quick "sure, why not?" despite his rationale telling him no; somewhere between the drinks and your eyes he'd found a greedy instinct to take anything you're willing to give him, even though he knows damn well he's going to splutter on the smoke and embarrass himself as soon as he takes a drag.

but you don't hold it out to him, instead bringing it back up to your own lips. then suddenly, you're standing much closer to him and your hand is gripping his jaw in a way that opens his mouth just enough. you watch him through lidded gaze as you blow the smoke into his mouth, and he freezes, ears perked and tail bristled. you're so close, lips barely a centimetre from his, but your firm grip on his face would stop him from closing the distance even if his short-circuiting mind would let him. he doesn't get a second to process what's happened before he's choking, smoke hitting the back of his throat before he can attempt to inhale it, eyes watering as he attempts to suppress his coughs.

"aww, poor thing," you coo with an amused smile that seth finds scarily attractive. your hand isn't on his face anymore, but you haven't backed away far, still tauntingly close to him. there's nowhere to hide his blush, he can tell you're enjoying the front row view of his flustered face as he coughs again. his gaze is slightly panicked, but overwhelmingly yearning, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky even while he has no idea what to say, or whether his tongue would move even if he did.

but he doesn't have to, because you're looking at something behind him, frowning slightly then sighing.

"looks like my friends need me," you say, voice laced with disappointment as you put out the cigarette. you pat his bicep as you move to walk past him, touch lingering with a slight, indulgent squeeze. "i'll be around. come find me later, kay, pretty boy?"

and then you saunter back inside, leaving seth flushed, needy, and wondering what the earliest time that would count as 'later' would be.

ughhhh i love seth sm, i wanna tease that silly little catboy so bad

[oharaslove]

We’ve always seen Grumpy x Sunshine when it comes to Miguel and Reader. Today I present you with Grumpy x Grumpy

Reader who never showed a smile towards anyone in the Society. 

Miguel who notices them in the group meetings. Every Spider has a sense of humour, they smile through the pain, but you didn’t. You were always with a serious expression. You were integrated, at the same time though, you seemed closed off. Not letting anyone come close. 

Miguel who takes interest. There is only one place for a Grumpy person in this lab, and that’s him. Or at least, most people say he is grumpy, not that he believes it 100%. 

Reader who enjoys spending time by herself, recluding to the rooftop of the Society. A place that, weirdly enough, no one frequents. 

Miguel who looks for Reader in the common spaces, but doesn’t have luck. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted with you, but there was something pulling him towards your person. Did he want to be friends? Was he just curious? No idea.

Miguel who has to admit to Lyla what he is doing, having to accept her teases. “Oooohhh Miguel has got a crush” At which Miguel rolls his eyes. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you! How could he have a crush? he definitely has. If it were any other Spider, he would probably not care, but you. You had something. 

Lyla who, after an uncountable amount of mocking, takes pity on Miguel and reveals your location. Miguel who sees you through the security camera, sitting at the edge, dangling your feet. 

Miguel who marches towards your location. No plan in his head. He was just going with the flow. His body guiding him towards what it wanted. You

Reader who is startled by the sudden sound of someone opening the door to the rooftop. Who the hell comes here?. You turned around, spotting Miguel silently watching you from the doorway. You turn around again, rolling your eyes. Whatever. 

Miguel who approaches you. What the hell has he come here for? It’s been a looong minute since he has spoken to a woman, other than work stuff.

Miguel who just stands there, looking off at the distance, while keeping an eye on you from time to time. He was just testing the water, yeah. 

Reader who finds it weird, but let’s it happen. Miguel is the leader of the society after all. Besides, you knew (or at least heard) that he was “grumpy”. Problem, you didn’t know if he really was, or like you, he was misunderstood by everyone. In doubt, better keep quiet. 

Miguel who after a while, decides to go. That was embarrassing enough. But don’t get confused, he would come back, he just needed a plan. 

Miguel who, the first week, just stands there, getting comfortable with your presence, hoping you do too. Until….

“You know you can sit, right?” “Uh… I-” He stutters, not expecting you to talk. You scooch over, even though there is plenty of space. Miguel sits, rather close. He enjoys the view now, but most importantly, the heat emanating from your body. He sighs, step 1 down. 

Days turned into weeks. Now, you two were comfortable. Not yet talking much, but sitting next to each other, enjoying each other’s company while enjoying the skyline. Miguel hadn’t realised how much he needed this, relax. After a day being cooped up in the lab, this was a nice change. You would share food with each other, a lovely and quiet picnic between two friends? A boss and a worker? Co-workers? He had no clue, but whatever it was, he liked it. 

But… he wanted more. He felt the need to know you better. So.. that’s how the conversations started. About whatever, whoever… didn’t matter. What matter was that step 2 was down. 

Step 3 was by far the hardest one. Make you laugh. At least a small giggle or a smile, Miguel would be happy with either one. 

Granted, Miguel wasn’t good with jokes either. He didn’t know how the other Spiders did it. But thankfully, as a man of science, he knew how to achieve a goal. 

Miguel who spends quite some time observing the other Spiders. He never had a reason to, but now, he did. He thought that you would like it if he was funny, like the others. Yeah, surely, why wouldn’t you?

Miguel who writes some jokes and practises how to deliver them, over and over again. Lyla was having a blast. The big, “bad”, “grumpy” leader of the Spider Society, creator of Nueva York, was mad about another person. 

Miguel, nervous af, goes to your spot. After meeting for quite some time, you two develop a routine. Always at the same hour, same place. 

Reader who is already there, waiting. You really enjoyed meeting with Miguel, you felt he was the only one who understood you. 

Miguel who slowly approaches you. He could feel sweat dribble from his temple, down to his neck. 

Miguel checks the paper on his hand. Yeah, these jokes would do. 

Miguel who, after a peaceful chit chat, feels comfortable enough to start trying with the jokes. They were awful, to say the least. 

“How would you describe Spiderman’s perfect home? The world wide web!”

Miguel who after every stupid joke watches your reaction. At first, you are confused, but as jokes go by, he can see you trying hard not to smile. 

“What is–” “What are you doing?” you said, your lips tugging up into a smile. you were so adorable. “What do you mean?” “The jokes” you clarify, your smile widening. “I– I was trying to be funny, like the other Spidermen. People seem to like them. I–” “Don’t” you interrupt, your tone and expression serious. 

Miguel wanted to be swallowed by the Earth. He scrunches the paper and fists it. This was all a waste— “I like you just the way you are” You confess, making Miguel snap his head towards you, eyes wide like plates. 

“You– you do?” He must have misheard you. “Mhh” you mumbled, nodding. “Just,” you bite your lip, debating if you should say it or not. “Just be my Miguel. The one you’ve always been” And you smile as bright as the sun, warming Miguel’s hug. 

“Your Miguel” he repeats in a trance. You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the smile that had been printed on your face. Nothing could wipe it now. 

Miguel mirrors you, smiling from ear to ear. He looks at his clenched fist, the paper sticking out. He looks at you and laughs, throwing the paper into the city. “I’ll be your Miguel then” He scooches closer to you, giving you the opportunity to lean on his chest, as he rounds your body with his arm. 

“Yeah, my Miguel” you sighed, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. His warm body and heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 

Miguel who kisses the top of your head, before resting his cheek against it. He sighs, step 3 and goal down. 

To the world, you were two Grumpy people. But between you, days were spent between laughs and giggles. Kisses being interrupted by smiles. Just seeing each other made you happy. Life was warm, yellow and red, all together. It didn’t matter how the rest saw you, just that you two were happy and in love. 

[significant-narratives]

hi anon! i know this probably isn't quite what you were looking for, but i'd like to give you a couple of sports poetry recommendations. some of them are more directly about sports than others, but i think they all do a wonderful job of showing the way that sports and sports fandom can function as metaphor for and reflection of humanity, the inevitable passage of time, and the ways in which people love.

where possible, i have included direct links to the poems themselves.

Biography of LeBron as Ohio by Sean Thomas Dougherty

if you're only going to read one poem from this list, let it be this one.

the subject of this poem is NBA star lebron james, who is considered one the greatest, possibly even the greatest, basketball player of all time. this poem examines what the man behind the myth. what does it mean to be 'just a kid from akron, ohio', as james is so fond of saying? what does it mean to come from 'the middle of nowhere' and become one of the greatest stars your sports has ever seen? it's an incredibly moving, heartfelt, and oddly personal piece. and i would highly recommend that you read it out loud. just trust me on this one.

Does LeBron think of dying? Does the grape think of dying as it withers on the vine by the lake? Or does it dream of the wine it will become?

WHEN I SAY THAT LOVING ME IS KIND OF LIKE BEING A CHICAGO BULLS FAN by Hanif Abdurraqib

one of my personal favourite poems of all time, this piece uses the once dynastic chicago bulls basketball franchise to talk about what it means to fall from grace, to lose what once made you great, to feel like the best version of yourself has become a distant memory.

as a side note, i would also recommend abdurraqib's book, 'there's always this year: on basketball and ascension'.

or I will say I promise that my legs just need another season, and then I will be who you fell in love with again.

Poem for My Father by Quincy Troupe

it's a bit difficult to summarize this one.

this poem is dedicated to the poet's father, quincy t. trouppe sr, a professional baseball player during the 1930s until the 1950s. quincy jr writes about his father, the impact of colonialism on individual identity, what it means to be black in america, and the game of baseball. you can feel how much love quincy had for his father in how he writes about him and his legacy.

crucially, this poem also touches on the racism that was present in major league baseball at the time of his father's career and what it meant for his father to play in the league at the time that he did.

father, it was an honor to be there, in the dugout with you

Wide Receiver by Mark Halliday

the inherent intimacy of being teammates on the same sports team chasing the same dream. that's it that's the poem.

so come on, star boy, fling a Hail Mary with a dream-coached combination of muscle and faith

The Bee by James Dickey

sometimes your coach is your father. sometimes your father is your coach. sometimes your coach haunts you long after you leave the playing field behind. sometimes your coach is the only voice you can hear. sometimes it's the only voice you want to hear.

and also bees are there.

Long live what I badly did At Clemson and all of my clumsiest drives For the ball [...] Coach Shag Norton, Tell me as you never yet have told me To get the lead out scream whatever will get The slow-motion of middle age off me

Poem with Bleating Heart by Robert Wood Lynn

because at the end of the day, sports fandom is just a metaphor for the way that humans love. for better or worse.

once again it is fall all around us there are sports teams praying for god to smite their opponents

Hi!

This is maybe a bit left of field, but I love your blog and you seem very knowledgeable so maybe you (or one of your followers?) have an idea.

Can you recommend some reading material on sports in general? It can absolutely be hockey related but I’m talking sort of bigger scope. More specifically, how (team) sports relate to society as a whole, what role it plays for humanity, maybe it’s history? What about the fan culture?

For context, I come from a pretty academic family where growing up there was this all encompassing prejudice of “it’s for stupid people” (which is clearly stupid in itself). I guess I’m trying to break the mold, but all of it is culturally very new to me.

It can be books, articles, essays, anything.

I realise I sound like a nerd, but. Maybe?

I love this q!!! I'm going to list some of my favourites, but I also haven't read everything (or even most things) so I'll leave it open to the floor to add to. If you have recs for this anon, please reblog with additions!

Moneyball by Michael Lewis and its semi-not-really sequel Big Data Baseball by Travis Sawchik are about the analytics revolutions in baseball - Moneyball about the original one that sparked from amateur mathematician Bill James' writings, and Big Data about the inception of the Statcast era about fifteen years later.

The Game by Ken Dryden is a biography by one of the greatest goalies and minds ever to play the sport. I would recommend almost anything written by Dryden, but this is really his masterwork.

17776 is a work of fiction written by Jon Bois, but I feel like it fits within the scope of your question anyway - thematically it seeks to ask and answer why we play sports and what they mean to us. It's also written and presented online for free and you can just google it, so you don't have to hunt through your libraries or buy a copy!

The Game of Our Lives by Peter Gzowski is a rarer one, especially if you're not Canadian, but I have a personal connection so I'll always recommend it anyway. It's written about Wayne Gretzky during his initial NHL season, and examines the way we think of greatness, what makes hockey players great (on a technical as well as social level), and the ideal of a Great Hockey Player as it relates to Canadian national identity.

Along that thread, I'll finally recommend the works of sociologist Kristi Allain, who's written multiple papers on the construction of Canadian identity both within hockey and within media discussing it, and the socialization and experiences of Canadian and non-Canadian hockey players.

[puckingtea2]

hi! i am not one of audrey’s friends, i just found out about this whole quinn drama today, however i think it’s extremely rude to assume something about a person you’ve never met. of course people are going to call her pretty. she is conventionally pretty. i understand that this is a drama account and all that, but deciding that audrey is the evil stepmother from cinderella based on a video is kinda insane. as someone with a gnarly rbf who doesn’t even realize it sometimes, i can understand how it might look like she was annoyed, but we weren’t in the car. we also don’t know what happened before the moment even happened.

i don’t want to say that her reaction was appropriate or inappropriate based on the video because, then again, we don’t know what happened, but being rude to a random girl because she’s with your favorite hockey player is also not appropriate.

do with this what you will. i just wanted to get my thoughts out on the situation considering that’s what this account is for, right? :)

my new biggest pet peeve is when people like you come on here talking as if you know a thing or two when in reality, you don’t! so I’m gonna say this nicely, or not as I’m so extremely fed up. To make it even clearer for you and the other anons coming on here who keep skipping over this repeatedly, I’m gonna put it in all caps, bolded, AND italicized so y’alls eyes can transfer the big letters to your brain a little better 😉

1) NO👏🏼ONE👏🏼IS👏🏼MAD👏🏼QUINN👏🏼HAD👏🏼A👏🏼ONE👏🏼NIGHT👏🏼STAND👏🏼

2) NO👏🏼ONE👏🏼CALLED👏🏼HER👏🏼UGLY👏🏼OR👏🏼THINKS👏🏼SUCH👏🏼

3) THIS👏🏼WAS👏🏼NEVER👏🏼ABOUT👏🏼HER👏🏼HAVING👏🏼A👏🏼NASTY👏🏼LOOK👏🏼ON👏🏼HER👏🏼FACE👏🏼 (although, with the other things I’m about to mention, it’s a contributing factor)

I got tired of doing the claps but you get the point. Just imagine thats what I’m doing

4) SHE HAS BEEN OBVIOUSLY CLOUT CHASING SINCE SHE WENT TO VANCOUVER. SHE KEPT POSTING AND DELETING PHOTOS OF BEING A HIS APARTMENT AND AT THE GAME BUT DELETED ALL OF THAT BEFORE THE GAME ENDED SO HE WOULD SEE. IF U WANT A MORE IN DEPTH DISCUSSION ABOUT THAT EITHER CHECK THE TAGS OR ASK

5) THEN THIS TIKTOK: SHE HAS HER FRIENDS COMMENTING ON THE VIDEO PRETENDING THEY DONT KNOW WHO SHE IS AND COMPLIMENTING HER. ONCE SAID FRIENDS ARE CALLED OUT, THEY DELETE THE COMMENTS AND ALL INCLUDING GENITALIA GO PRIVATE. AGAIN, IF YOU WANT THE PROOF OF THAT CHECK THE TAGS

6) HER FRIENDS ALSO STARTED TAGGING HER IN THE VIDEO AND REPOSTING IT. How weird is that? It’s OBVIOUS she wanted clout and attention and that’s what she got- just not the kind she wanted

7) She had “make me famous so I don’t have to work” or something in her tiktok bio FOREVER and also took it out when that video was released to try and save face. Even though clearly the bio was a bit of a joke, considering what she’s done, it seems like she truly is a gold digger

8) I don’t know where tf you got that Quinn Hughes is my favorite hockey player but you’ve already made it very clear you don’t read this blog so you just decided to assume because (gasp) you people love to act like you know everything based off assumptions.

Am I missing anything? Probably but at the end of the day the bottom line is: KNOW WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT BEFORE YOU START TALKING. This happens WAY too often because dense people like you believe you’re all the knowledgeable and us less than fortunate can benefit from your intelligent (or lack thereof) minds. Speaking of rude, I think it’s pretty rude to come on a blog and accuse people of being mean girls before reading a SINGLE thing, yeah? Because if you did, this entire thing could have been avoided. No one is sending hate to this girl (at least no one on my blog) we’re just laughing at how desperate she is for attention/clout to the point she had to get her friends involved in commenting to put a false narrative out there. That, the nasty look and rolled eyes, and everything else that has happened since is evident enough this girl is nothing more than your typical 🏒🐰. Call me a bad person for pointing all of that out, I don’t care, but she’s the one who did it to herself at the end of the day. Also, I hope you took the time to read my blog. Because Quinn is NOT my favorite player or even my favorite Hughes! Thx!!

No further comments from anyone will be needed, thank you!

[deliajackson]

Basically, Percy has anger issues, no surprise there. And he completely lacks in open communication, what is also... Not a surprise either.

I mean, who is Percy going to open up with? Sally? The one person Percy is self conscious? The only person Percy believes that he is a trouble for her for failing school repeatedly - even if it is not his fault? Who had to sacrifice part of her life to keep him safe? For some reason I can't see that happening.

Gabe? No way.

Grover? They met when everything started, and besides the emphatic link they actually never have a heart to heart talk later on the story.

Poseidon? They met what? Once a year? And I really doubt Percy would feel comfortable talking with his father about his mental health.

He also never open up about his problems with Annabeth, so big surprise, Annabeth doesn't know half of the shit it comes in his head. I bet she doesn't know about his passively suicidal tendencies either. And let me tell you, not having an open communication with your partner can lead to many problems in a relationship. That one is on Percy, not on Annie.

I would agree with you that there is only one thing that bothers me in Percy, and mostly that is Riordans fault. He is a veteran from two wars. He is chronically depressed. He tried to commit suicide.

And ok? What do we do with that? When is that discussed and really put an effort to solve and give the right importance? Apparently for Rick, never.

Considering that this is a book for children, this narrative choice always pisses me off. Because what are you teaching children when your overpowered MC loved by everyone who is chronically depressed, had a scene where he admmited he tried to unalive himself passively never asks for help later on? Like? Never? The only time it was with Jason and Jason was like "that is hard, bro." And it is never aborded in any other instance? What are you telling them, Rick?????

Another thing that goes is... He doesnt change much from one book to the other. He is still "the same old percy". What doesn't make much sense after everything he has been through. He became bolder, more audacious. Yes. But still the same, nonethless. It is not like Lester/Apollo that we can see him changing in each book of ToA. He starts like one character and ends another one.

That is the reason why I believe many people were surprised in cotg with his sudden bitterness and lack of humor. And that happens because Rick didnt work on that from the very beggining. So it is chocking for the audience, even if it makes sense.

Again that is more Rick' fault than Percy per-se. And I will always stand that Percy deserved a better writer. Especially after the bomb that was wotg.

Respectfully, did Percy Jackson even have any character development throughout the original series?

He doesn't have any flaws. He chose to take the prophecy from Nico, but he was always going to be the prophecy child.

He's good at the start and good at the end with no development unless you count being traumatised and depressed from a war as development, which it's not.

Not trying to be rude, sorry if I seem rude.

Worry not. It's a perfectly reasonable question and should usually be applied to most character studies. Also, buckle up. This is going to be long. Very long. It took me a while to get the time to post this and even more time to actually get my thoughts together. Like a lot of time. (To anyone who doesn't want to read the horrid mess of a post this is there's a partition at the end, after which all the most important points are summarized. ) Just skip to that, but hopefully, someone reads this whole thing because it took me eons to write.

I can see why you think that way, and it is contributed more so by Rick's absolute incapability of not recycling the dead horse that is the original pjo dynamics. He has inhibited character growth from almost every single character where all their epiphanies and character change in the end amounts to nothing, and they regress back to how they used to be, and any and all deviations their personality had are either dismissed or suppressed.

Percy is the victim of the latter. In the first book, he was a child, not particularly concerned with saving the world or being a halfblood. His life had been worse enough, and the halfblood situation had made it abysmal. Percy was living goal by goal. He wanted to get through the field trip, then through the semester, then through the Gabe interactions all so he could finally see his Mom, the one good thing about his life. Then that upends completely, and his only reprieve, the trip to Montauk, his safe place becomes the start of a series of grand tragedies in his life.

Sure, he stayed at the Camp, not willingly but for safety. He had nowhere to go, his life had been turned upside down, his mother was dead, and he wanted to go home, to have his mother back. He couldn't have cared less about the Gods and the world ending, but as soon as Chiron mentions Underworld, Percy is back on solid ground. He has a goal again. Get Sally back. He does everything to reach that goal. He fights monsters, prays to a godly father he refused to acknowledge beforehand, manipulate the press and the Gabe situation, bargain with immortal deities and such, and negotiate his way out of most of those bargains. All the while keeping in mind that he has a traitor to deal with, but Percy is the definition of "deal with one thing at a time. If it's not an immediate concern, it can wait." He does all that and is rewarded for it by being able to live, getting his mother back, and a taste of the life he has doomed himself to, and he almost seems to accept it. He even wonders if Camp Half Blood could be his home.

We see Percy do this throughout all the books. He is constantly changing his intentions, his goals, and his opinions on everything. He is also caught in his internal conflict of being with or against the Gods. The thing is, Percy has very little time for reflection as he is jumping from one existential threat to another, and yet he still manages to grow in the small ways. You need to see it individually book wise rather than over the whole series as Rick messes up terribly with character arcs and developments of literally every other character.

He begins by not caring about Poseidon's existence or his proximity, but in the end, he, too, is beholden to the intrinsic need of having a father. He, too, wants Poseidon to care for him like a father and is therefore hurt by being called a mistake. He knows Poseidon claimed him as a weapon against Zeus so he could rectify someone else's mistakes and restore Poseidon's reputation; who if not Percy would understand this manipulation the best? But the best lies are the ones you want to believe in, and so Percy keeps his silence because, of course, he wants to believe his father genuinely cares for him and loves him. Who doesn't?

He didn't want to be the hero, but by the end of the first book, when he is called one, he doesn't dislike the feeling. He accepts if only a little that this is to be his life now, and as the series progresses, he adds to the pros and cons.

In the Sea of Monsters he is very happy that Gabe is gone and it's just him and his mother again but by the end of it he has gained a new family member in Tyson and is very happy of the fact. He even manages to get over his initial hostility of Clarisse somewhat when he understands her situation.

Titan's Curse is all about Percy learning about the number of forces at play in the world of demigods. He tries to get along with the Hunters and Thalia; it doesn't work. He ends up almost losing Annabeth, someone who he considers a close friend by now. And so we see Percy spiral a little, show more of his anger issues as he interacts with Thalia or even Young Nico just after Annabeth falls from the cliff. Angry and impatient, he goes on his own quest.

I know most readers remember it as Percy, Annabeth, and Grover or the main cast always working together, but it's almost never like that. Somewhere along the way, Percy always ends up doing his own thing, which works because he best works on improvisations. It's Percy's plans that always end up working the most more so than Annabeth's. Just putting it out there.

Then it's just Percy having the worst month of his life. Annabeth is in mortal danger. No one seems to be hearing his opinions between Thalia and the Hunters. Then Bianca dies and Percy because he is Percy is completely and utterly guilty over it.

Note that Percy says he will do his best to keep Biancs safe and not outright promise to keep Bianca safe. But his non-existent self-esteem and other factors withstanding he blamed himself for it completely. Then Zoe dies, and Percy has lost yet another person he thought he needed to keep safe.

Percy is angry at the gods, but he is not surprised by their actions. But he is Percy, and he is determined to change the ways of Olympus, so he pressures the Council and his father to keep the Ophiptaurus, the very creature that threatens to topple their rule. It's his small was of rebelling, and Percy is always rebelling against the gods in his own way, almost never playing into their hands because as much as he despises Luke, he agrees with Luke too and unless he finds a better way to deal with the situation than what Luke is employing he too would have to one day follow in Luke's footsteps.

Now Percy, who trusts Chiron, even thinks of him as a secondary father figure realizes that Chiron for all his compassion for mortals and demigods will always in the end do the bidding of the Gods'. So he makes the snap decision to hide Nico's parentage from Chiron and from everyone else because Percy realizes no matter how much he loves or cares for certain people in his life, they are beholden to answer to a higher power he cannot gainsay, so he will have to take some secrets to the grave. He learns that in the end, some things he needs to shoulder himself.

And of course, the guilt of Bianca's death is no lesser, so he does the only thing he thinks can give him some relief from it. He takes the prophecy for himself, saving Nico and hoping it's enough to alleviate himself of this bile inducing sensation in his gut called guilt that is swallowing him whole.

Now, the Battle of Labyrinth is the most crucial. This is the book with maximum stress on Percy from all ends. From Sally dating Paul and Percy having to prove he is worth Paul's confidence in him in Goode, from Annabeth who is quite literally snippy and passive aggressive through the whole book either due to Rachel or due to her own prophecy even though Rachel and Percy are the two people who got them all out. Then there's the Nico situation. He knows Nico is spiraling, which is making Percy spiral and further strengthening his own guilt. And on top of all this, the Luke situation. Percy is literally caught between an enclosed space, with all four sides closing in on him rapidly while he is fending off mortal danger.

All this repressed tension is fully let loose when he explodes Mt. Helen's. And this is the tipping point. Percy wants to take the choice of Calypso's Island if only briefly and not because he loves her or anything of the sort but because it's his one escape. From everything from his own doomed prophecy. Yet again, Percy is trapped by his own fatal flaw. Personal Loyalty. So he chooses to carry out his responsibility because he has given himself no other choice.

If that wasn't enough of self-realization, he is faced with the horrifying realization of the devastation his power has wrought. His loss of control has single handedly released the greatest threat to Olympus. Hephaestus tells Percy he doesn't know the limits of his own, and by the gods, does that terrify Percy. Up until now, Percy knew his powers were dangerous, but now he knows that he is also dangerous; that he is the real danger. And it's not a reality he wants to ever confront, so he coils his power and holds it tight in a leash. (It's why Percy's burts of power always begin with an unraveling sensation in his gut or something breaking inside himself)

He is somewhat soothed by Poseidon's reassurance because not only does Poseidon not blame him, he also solidifies Percy's faith that he is doing the right thing. And if Poseidon sprinkles in the fact that Percy is the favorite child then who is he to deny himself the comfort of such sweet lies because, of course, Percy thinks it's a lie and of course Percy basks in it. He knows better than to trust gods, he knows better than to trust even his own allies because at the times like this, they will do and say anything to appease him, after all the fate of Olympus depends on him, does it not? And neither the Gods nor the demigods will risk a falling out with him at times like this.

He asks his father if he can help but is denied because he is needed here. Then he does his job as told, and Charlie dies. It's on him. He is struck with twice as much guilt. Over Beckendorf, and then over the state of Atlantis. He asks again if he can help his father and is denied again yet scorned by his father's family, for he can't even help them with the mess he started (or so he believes).

This is why Percy goes with Nico's plan of using the Styx. Because he assumes Nico of all people who already hated him has no reason to curry for his favor. But he makes a mistake. After all, Nico needs his father's favor, and Hades needs Percy gone. Percy can't really blame the kid, but he does anyway because why not? He is angry, he is furious, and everything is slipping from his fingers. He is going to die. Everyone is going to die, and it's all on him. It's all his fault, AGAIN. So he rages at Nico because for at least one single moment, he wishes this were someone else's burden, especially Nico's, but Percy's taken it for himself, and it's too late to back out now.

So he fights and manipulates and negotiates. Titans, River gods, his own demigods. Because don't forget Percy knows there's a mole and that's also his problem. Everything is his problem. All that work and so many dead. Silena, Michael, Ethan, and many more on both sides, and he is trying everything he can to make it better to fix things because, again, he thinks it's his fault. Imagine doing all that, and Rachel tells him he is not the hero, and Percy bristles because no, he doesn't want to be a hero, but of course, it offends him. Because, if he's not the hero, then it's not his burden, and then what the hell is he doing all this for if, in the end, he is not the hero that can save Olympus? Does that mean he read the prophecy wrong, and now he is going to get everyone killed because he wrongly assumed he isn't the hero. He is angry and impulsive, and he snaps at even Hermes. Because now HE is spiraling.

And somehow, it's all over with Luke killing himself, and it dawns on Percy, the truth. So despite all the hate because why wouldn't there be hate, Luke has singlehandedly tried to kill Percy more than Percy can count, and he calls Luke the Hero. Makes the choice because he believes in Annabeth's faith and Hermes's faith in Luke. It pays off and that's all that matters.

Finally finally it is all over. the Gods owe him, and finally, he has an answer on the path he wants to take to change the gods. He denies immortality because he is Percy Jackson, he is Sally Jackson's son and he knows better than to let others dictate the flow of his life, because he has better plans than wasting away inside for eternity, dancing on someone else's tune. He fights for the demigods, the non-Olympian gods and their children who Olympus has failed to do justice to, for Nico, and in some way for himself.

Then it's not over at all because Rachel has taken Blackjack and Percy knows the truth of the Oracle and he loves Rachel far too much to let her even try. But it works and she is okay; he can't be with her but she is alive and she is okay and Percy is extremely grateful for that.

But then there's a new prophecy, and even though he tries to find some peace with Annabeth, he knows it's not over. It's never over for him. But he can forget about it until he can no longer afford to ignore it.

___________________________________________

Of course, Percy repressed his trauma. The last time he let it out, he released the literal bane of the gods out. Do you think Percy could live with something like that happening again? What choice does he have? There's no one who can understand him. NO ONE. Not even Annabeth.

You can see him accept his role as a leader and grow more into it. In son of Sobek or even in Son of Neptune. He is more serious and more authoritative because he has so many people depending on him, so many expectations hanging on him. We can also see Percy's anger issues get out of hand. He is spiraling, the readers know he is spiraling, and Percy knows, but he can't do ANYTHING. HE IS LITETALLY DYING OR BEING ATTACKED, HE CAN'T, HE JUST CAN'T.

BUT WE KNOW IT'S THERE BECAUSE WE CAN SEE HOW MUCH PERCY HAS GROWN INTO SUICIDAL TENDENCIES. AND HE CAN'T ACT ON THEM MOST OF THE TIME BECAUSE OTHER PEOPLE ARE DEPENDENT ON HIM AND HIS FATAL FLAW WON'T ALLOW HIM TO PUT HIMSELF OUT OF HIS MISERY.

BUT WHEN HE HAS DONE EVERYTHING HE POSSIBLY COULD, AFTER HOUSE OF HADES, HE LETS POLYBOTES'S POISON CHOKE HIM, ALMOST KILLING HIM IF JASON HADN'T INTERVENED. THANK GOD FOR JASON GRACE.

Percy was this sassy, heavily independent, "I do my own thing" kid and now he is someone with more responsibilities than anyone with most of his free will stripped and most of his hopes ruined or deemed impossible. IT'S TRAGIC AND IT'S EXCRUCIATING AND HE CAN'T DO ANYTHING BECAUSE HE THINKS IT'S MAKING OTHERS HAPPY. IT'S SUCH A HORRIBLE SITUATION. IMAGINE BOOK 1 PERCY? HE WOULD HAVE LET IT BLOW UP IN EVERYONE ELSE'S FACE BEFORE HE EVER LET HIMSELF BE SO BROKEN.

I have seen so many people say how Percy is the standard hero who is always good and never makes bad choices, and I wonder which books they read. Percy always makes the supposed "right" choices at the cost of himself. His fatal flaw enabling his moral compass and the sheer guilt of the lives lost. He can't escape. He hates the gods, he hates the quests but he loves his family and friends so dearly, there's nothing he wouldn't do for them which means Percy is suffocating, drowning, choking in his own misery, his repressed trauma,his self loathing and being crushed to death by the weight of lives, responsibilities and expectations only he can hope to fulfil.

And one day Percy won't be able to take it. His lapses of control will increase in magnitudes so great, his inner rage will level the world. Destroyer, like Athena predicted, Destroyer like Kronos wanted and Destroyer like his name means.

Not every hero needs a villain arc. Percy is inspiring because after all this shit and all these horrors. He is still good, but WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THE TOLL OF IT. PERCY IS STILL GOOD BUT AT WHAT COST? LOOK WHAT IT'S DONE TO HIM.

Rick has such a great potential for an arc like that but he is going to fuck it up, I know he is but I hope readers realize where it's all leading to and how much Percy has changed and how much he has sacrificed. Also, @hermesmyplatonicbeloved , @ogjacksonsimp , @cynicalclairvoyantcadaver , @helenofsparta2, @fourcornersofcreation thoughts? Did I stray too far from the canon, or am I getting it right at least a little? Because this post took days, I have no idea what it has devolved into.

[florencechase]

So I came across the Mayfair Witches thing with Lestat and Felix, and like pretty much everyone on here I was bummed but then I though about it for a very long time, went through the books again and… here’s how I think they can still make it work. Just as a disclaimer though, I’ve only fully read IWTV and TVL, and am currently like 1/3 through QOTD, so if there’s anything in the books after that that disproves my theory I’m sorry! But since the Lestat/Felix arc takes place towards the end of IWTV, I thought I’d still give it a go.

So the main issue here that people bring up is that if Lestat taught Felix to “cull the herd”, he can’t be book Lestat because book Lestat admits to only killing the “evildoers”, so why would he tell Felix to be so merciless? The answer: it’s complicated.

Lestat, the book and the show version, is unfortunately (or fortunately because that’s part of what makes him so interesting) a man who often does the opposite of what he says. I took a closer look at his first moments with Gabrielle after he turns her, and we have a similar situation in which he’s teaching her how to kill. Here’s an excerpt from it:

“I found a victim as soon as we had crossed the river […] [a]nd as I lured the victim out of the tavern, as I teased him, maddened him, and then took him, I knew I was showing off for her, making it a little crueler, more playful. And when the kill came, it had an intensity to it that left me spent afterwards.” (TVL, p. 147)

When he’s teaching others how to kill, he likes to show off. Simple as that. I’m sure the victim he chose was a criminal, like most his victims, but the point is he never told Gabrielle that. To her knowledge what Lestat just did was brutally murder some random man. Two pages later we have the following passage when Gabrielle makes her first kill and it’s the guy on the horse she ends up stealing the clothes from:

“I was shaken. The innocence of her victims didn’t trouble her. She didn’t fight my moral battles. But then I didn’t fight them anymore either, so why should I judge her? Yet the ease witch which she slew the young man – gracefully breaking his neck when the little drink she took was not enough to kill him – angered me tough it had been extremely exciting to watch. She was colder than I. She was better at all of it, I thought. Magnus had said, “Show no mercy.” But had he meant us to kill when we did not have to kill?” (TVL, pp. 149-150)

Lestat obviously doesn’t feel comfortable killing innocent people, but there’s not one scene in which he either tells someone he’s having moral dilemmas with it, or tells others they shouldn’t kill innocent people. It’s his thing, and it’s his struggle, but he never shares it until he writes about it in TVL. Here’s another excerpt that highlights this:

“When [Louis] says I played with innocent strangers, befriending them and then killing them, how was he to know that I hunted almost exclusively among the gamblers, the thieves, and the killers, being more faithful to my unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even I had hoped I would be?” (TVL, pp. 434-435)

The key phrase here is “how was he to know”, so Louis had no idea! All this time he spent with Louis, and he never told him that’s what he was doing! Which brings me back to the show, to the reunion moment where Lestat tells Louis “I don’t like to point out my virtues.”

Of course, in the context he’s talking about not telling him he saved him at the trial, but it’s a pretty general statement about himself and it’s true, so far, in the book. He only kills innocent people, never tells anyone about it. He saves Louis at the trial, never tells anyone about it. And while I’ve seen some theories about how him not telling Louis he saved him was part of some pact he made with Armand, I’m just going to take things at face value here until the show proves otherwise.

Lestat always claims he’s “evil” in the books, but he does a whole bunch of stuff to disprove that. I think part of why he doesn’t let people know his good deeds is because there’s a part of him that wants to be perceived as the “evil monster” that he sees himself as. It’s the biggest irony ever for Lestat out of all vampires to claim he’s evil when he’s never acted with malicious intent (in the books, but I would even say in the show as well but the show is more complex in that regard).

The big thing about Lestat, which would also set him apart from show!Louis is that he does his thing and lets others do their thing. He doesn’t interfere with others, doesn’t tell them how to live their lives “the correct way”. Sure, he has many heated discussions about it with Nicki, but those are not him telling Nicki he should live according to his philosophy just because he thinks it’s the correct way to view life. Nicki hates himself at that point, which just gets worse with his way of thinking, and Lestat’s trying to pull him out of that. Nicki’s worldview is actively harmful to him and at least part of the reason for his eventual demise. But that’s not really relevant here, so I’m just going to leave it at that.

Which brings me back to Felix and Lestat. Did he, at some point, go out of his shack to kill people to show Felix how to do it? Not necessarily. The show doesn’t say he did, he could’ve simply just told him how to do it, he did after all figure it out himself too. It’s pretty intuitive I suppose for a vampire, and even when Claudia does her first kill Lestat isn’t shown killing first. He waits in the car with Louis and Claudia manages just fine.

Lestat knows what’s in their nature as vampires, but he himself doesn’t follow it at all times. It’s implied in one of the excerpts above, when he says he’s “being more faithful to [his]unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even [he] had hoped [he] would be.” He’s not holding himself to any strict rules or high standards here. He’s trying his best, and if he takes an innocent life, he probably feels uncomfortable about it (while he secretly enjoys the feeling) but he’s probably just like “oh well.”

And with Felix, it could absolutely be a situation of do as I say, not as I do. He teaches him what’s in their nature, but he himself chooses to do differently. That, to me, sounds quite a lot like book!Lestat.

Besides, another aspect I’d like to point out is the definition of the word “cull”. Since English isn’t my native language, I had to look it up to really get all the nuances it implies. Here’s what google says:

“Selective slaughter”. Now here’s where I might be wrong and please correct me if I am, but since there are parallels to Darwin in MW, couldn’t that also imply selectively killing a particular group of people? As in, weed out the evildoers, or the weakest who don’t have a chance of survival anyways (as Lestat does after Louis tries to kill him)? The latter would make sense with the Darwin parallel. What we see in MW may be skewed through Felix’ perspective. I haven’t watched MW, but these things happen all the time in IWTV. Killing mercilessly may be only his interpretation of what Lestat said.

TL;DR: Lestat understands vampiric nature well enough to teach others how to kill “like a vampire” when he himself still chooses to do differently. He also doesn’t “like to point out [his] virtues” which is why he never actually told anyone he only kills criminals.

[noise-misato-boy-destroyer]

when i see u and other transfems who are cool and hot it makes me want to kill myself because i dont know how to be like that and idk what to do about it

i know you'll say shit like 'oh just strive to be the person u wanna be/be yourself/estrogen' etcb ut it doesnt feel like enough

Okay sooooo unfortunately for us broken dolls even getting to where I am won't make those thoughts go away, I still deal with them constantly because there's always a doll out there that'll give you that much dysphoria and gender envy and also life is terrifying but I promise promise promise it's light years better than anything I ever went through pretransition.

I couldn't act like myself in the beginning either because until you get like six months in you may not know who you even are yet, personally I emulated a bunch of girls I looked up to until I found myself n then as it turns out I wasn't too different from them to begin with. There's gonna be struggling, there's gonna be tears, you're gonna wonder why you did this and if it was even worth. This isn't easy by any definition of the word even under the best circumstances, but it's so far beyond anything I could have dreamed that I can't imagine going back. Again, it WILL be hard, there's just no way around that. I think of it like a pact with the devil; there will be a price but the rewards... Oh babygirl the rewards are worth every dysphoric sob session and every second guess and then some.

Don't get discouraged looking at dolls like me either because literally you can just be one, all the makeup looks you need are on here, all the fashion inspo, the community, the attitudes. Girl you're literally at the gender store right now, what looks good to you? I had a bunch of dolls tagged with like a fashion inspo tag for months before I finally took my first steps and that really helped me to find who I wanted to be.

Oh and estrogen will absolutely drive you crazy btw especially if you're already in this mental state, those first six months are a nightmare lowkey. I wouldn't have been able to transition without the support of the community on here.

People aren't just shitposting when they talk about how we're capable of anything. You gotta give yourself more credit <3

[caesarsaladttf]

So I feel like somebody talked about this a while ago but I don't remember who and what platform so I'm just writing it out because I'm thinking and thinking and thinking

The taboos in TLT series are different from ours (in regards to the Houses) because Jod fucked around and did a factory reset on everyone and everything. This means that Job had the ability to not teach and instill homophobia, sexism, etc.

When we see characters be dickheads to each other, we tend to project our understanding of biases, discrimination, and marginalized identities onto them (e.g. Silas is sexist and hates women). But those characters are dicks to each other not because of their identities as marginalized people, but because of their identities as assholes. The fighting between each other has nothing to do with a gross characterization of a large group of people, but rather a distaste for the individual in particular (except for the beef the eighth has again the ninth, but that's unrelated).

Any and all taboos would have been created because of Jod, and subsequently his band of less than merry friends. This group of friends, as we know, was made of many cav/necro lovers. This friend group was incredibly codependent and in equal measure craved freedom, craved the ability to help and do more. This friend group didn't want to leave each other behind but they also didn't want to live in a castle together for all eternity when there was shit to get done. So this friend group studied. And experimented. And studied some more. They used science and magic hand in hand to try and replicate a miracle that took place before they were reborn. A miracle none of them witnessed but surely happened.

This friend group did it. They cracked the miracle. But something went wrong. It was wrong. They did it wrong. But they had come too far and things needed to happen. Bigger things than each of them. So one by one, despite the wishes of one another, their friend group dropped in number. One. By. One.

One. By. One. Cavalier sacrificed themselves for the sainthood of their necromancer. One. By. One. A necromancer witnessed the death of their cavalier.

One. By. One. Partner sacrificed themselves for the sainthood of their other half. One. By. One. Their other half witnessed the death of their partner.

One flesh, one end sounded like poetry until you were faced with your own sudden, horrible immortality. One flesh, one end sounded like poetry until you were faced with the sudden, horrible mortality of the love of your life.

This is a horrible and cruel thing. But the world is full of horrible and cruel things. And this is simply the way of necro and cav. It is the goal, in the grand scheme of things, to serve the Emperor, and how better to do that then for eternity. So, to make this goal a less horrible and cruel thing, necro and cav romances were forbidden. They were taboo. Because how can you expect someone to watch their love die and live with that for eternity. Live with the fact it was their fault.