#and my assumption after reading this first issue is that the world it takes place in is too extreme for the story to completely work for me

[daydreamerdrew]

All-Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder (2005) #1

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 13

Part 12

Steve didn’t realize how hard he was gripping the door handle, how stiff he’d gotten, how he had stopped breathing until the ghost of his past spoke.

“Hey there, pretty boy.”

He nearly choked on the intake of air. Billy was here. Actually here, out of the blue. Steve swallowed and found his voice.

“What’re you doing here?”, he asked, keeping his voice low.

Billy just smiled at him, smug like he knew he was flipping Steve’s world upside down. “I can’t visit my family?”

“We’re not-”

“Hey! There’s my tiger!”, Billy pushed past Steve, forcing him to turn and see Shawn sitting on the stairs, eavesdropping. 

Steve tried to reason and be rational. Billy had never outright hurt their son. There was no issue with him picking him up and hugging him close. Even if it made Steve’s skin crawl. Shawn gave his father a hesitant squeeze back, caught off guard by the sudden visit too. 

“I’ll ask you again Billy”, Steve said the moment Shawn was put back down on his feet. “Why are you here?”

Billy stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, then pulled something out. “Came to give my boy his birthday present.” He handed him a toy car, still in the packaging.

Shawn accepted, giving a small thank you. Steve remembered the way his body used to tense up or go into autopilot when his parents fought. He couldn’t do that anymore. He had to be present and protect his child so that he didn’t develop those habits. He walked over and put a hand on Shawn’s head. 

“You brushed your teeth right?”

Shawn nodded, then smiled big to show off his pearly whites. Steve smiled back, feeling lighter already.

“Go on to your room then, it’s past your bedtime. And don’t even think about sneaking in reading time”, he called after him as he scurried up the stairs. He waited until he heard the sound of Shawn’s door closing but he didn’t take his eyes off of Billy. He was watching his expressions. 

He had been watching Shawn go up the stairs and seemed to be waiting as well before his smile dropped. He went to the front door and for a moment, Steve had the hope that he would walk right through it and save him the grief. But Billy only shut it.

“His birthday was a week ago”, Steve said, arms crossed.

“I knew you were gonna give me shit for not getting the exact day”, Billy said, like he was a victim. “Cut me some slack, alright?”

Steve didn’t have to tell him that this wasn’t the first birthday he had missed, even when they had lived together. He wasn’t going to give him a whole laundry list of issues. He shouldn’t have to. Billy should know why he can’t just show up unannounced after two years of silence.

“I’m gonna remind you that you walked out. You left us. And we’ve been fine. You can’t just show up out of nowhere.”

“Why the fuck do you smell like another alpha?”, Billy growled.

Steve only faltered for a second but it was enough to make Billy advance on him and in two seconds they were toe to toe.

“And why the fuck does my pup smell like another alpha?”

The growl in his voice was enough to make him take a step back and Billy replaced it with one of his own, not letting Steve put any distance between them. He hated how much power this man had over him. He wanted to make him happy. He wanted to be loved by him. Now all he wanted to be as far from him as possible.

Where was Eddie? His real alpha?

“I don’t see a ring on this finger or a bite on my neck, so where do you get the idea that I’m yours?” Steve had this. He didn’t need Eddie before and he didn’t need him now. Whatever Billy dished out, he could take it.

Billy’s eyes glanced up the stairs. “I wonder if CPS would take issue with that.”

“Excuse me?”, Steve got whiplash so bad his head hurt. “What the hell are you-”

“An unbonded omega, parading a bunch of alphas around a vulnerable child? Sounds pretty irresponsible to me. And his stench is all over this place”, Billy scowled.

The accusations and assumptions and just everything had finally piled on enough. Steve saw red. He shoved Billy back. Hard.

“How dare you?”, he hissed. “How fucking dare you?”

“Watch yourself”, Billy said, grabbing Steve’s wrists in a bruising grip. “I left because I thought you needed some time to get yourself together. Getting knocked up made you this desperate, clingy thing. I thought you’d be better by now but it’s like you’ve gotten worse.”

Steve tore his hands away but that just freed Billy to push him back by the shoulders into a wall. All Steve was thinking of how loud the bump was. Did Shawn hear it?

“You should be glad. Isn’t this what you wanted? You, me, the kid?” Billy’s eyes softened the way he knew Steve was weak to. The look that made him appear as though he was changing because he wanted to be the father to Shawn that he never had.

But Steve wasn’t weak to it anymore. He didn’t know why Billy was back but he wasn’t letting him back in his life.

“Get out of my house. Before I call the police.”

Billy took his hands off then, held in the air like in surrender but with an expression that said otherwise. He even took a step back. His hands went back down into his pockets, casual and relaxed.

“You’ve always been like this. You don’t know what you want. One minute you want me, the next you threaten to call the cops on me.”

“Out”, Steve said, voice hardened as he pointed at the door.

Billy walked backwards towards it. “I’ll be around. It’s gotta be spring break for Shawn soon, right? Picnics, parks, concerts. And then summer. Bet he can’t wait.”

He opened the door and walked out and Steve didn’t wait even a second before locking it. He let out a breath as he listened. He could hear a car door close and then the vehicle drive away. He went to the window to check and it went down the road, disappearing into the night. 

Steve put a hand to his chest and his hands shook. He brought his shirt up to his nose and took a deep breath. His love, his alpha. Eddie.

He went upstairs and knocked on Shawn’s door. When he heard nothing, he hoped he was asleep, but had to check. Quietly, he opened the door, not wanting to wake him if he was. Shawn’s covers were pulled up high, only his eyes uncovered, like he was scared to be found but also wanted to see. Steve came in and turned the lamp on, giving the room a gentle glow.

“Hey bud.”

“Is he going to come and live with us again?” Shawn’s voice was small and whispery.

Steve put their foreheads together and stroked his hair. He hated that Billy had this effect on them. He kissed Shawn’s forehead.

“No, he’s not. Even if I have to tie him to a rocket and send him to space”, Steve said, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

Shawn’s hold on his blanket relaxed a little. The book they’d been reading was on the floor. Steve picked it up and put it on the shelf. He knew he was too anxious to get to sleep and that was probably true for Shawn too. 

“How about a midnight snack?”

Shawn’s reply was to throw the covers off and hop out of bed. “Is it a midnight snack when it’s not even midnight yet?”, he asked, taking his daddy’s hand as they walked out of his room.

“I think it counts”, Steve said.

When they got to the kitchen, Shawn sat at the table while Steve got some things from the pantry. Tonight seemed a good night for some hot milk with honey. Maybe some cinnamon and vanilla too. 

“You NEVER let me stay up on a school night”, Shawn said, a little in awe. 

“Well they’re also school nights for me”, Steve smiled as he turned the stove on. “And I can’t be late either.”

Steve stirred the pot, making a serving for them both and pouring it into two mugs. He came over to the table, bringing some cookies for them to dunk too. They sat and snacked, talking mostly about nothing. When they finished, Steve could tell his son wasn’t all that tired still, so they moved to the living room and turned on the tv. Steve gave him a choice between animals, oceans, or space and Shawn chose animals.

In silence, they watched and learned about different organisms that lived in the Arctic tundras. Steve felt his pup yawn next to him and knew he was down for the count. He gathered him in his arms and turned the tv off. As he was settled into bed, Shawn rubbed his eyes. 

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“I kinda want Mr. Eddie to be my dad too. Instead of him.”

Steve didn’t know how it was possible for his heart to feel light and heavy at the same time. He sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He waited for his pup to nod before continuing. “I think he’d be a great father.”

Even if Eddie hadn’t been there for Shawn’s birth, something he already had on Billy, Eddie had more than proven himself as capable around children. Not just as a teacher but as…well, a father too. He kissed Shawn’s forehead and then got up to go to his own room. His hand itched to grab his phone and call.

He sent a text to Robin without hesitation. She’d been there during the last couple of years of his time with Billy. She knew what his sudden appearance would mean. He was hesitant to tell Eddie though. Things had been going so great between them. Would this throw a wrench in things? Would he decide that Steve wasn’t worth the trouble? What would that do to Shawn?

Steve took a breath and put his phone down. It was too late to get worked up after coming down with Shawn. His son was right, they both had school tomorrow. He contemplated a mental health day for them both, he hadn’t taken off a single day this year, so he had some available. He’d let Shawn decide in the morning.

For now, he got into the bed and let sleep take him.

Part 14

Taglist

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre @a-lovely-craziness

[lillybearrie]

Hello I would like to remind everyone that the first (technically second if you wanna get really technical but who cares) thing we heard from fable was

"Release Me,

You are free of Enderian, now focus on purpose"

Directed at Icarus

"Now focus on your purpose"????? WHAT HAPPENED TO "HI" "HELLO" "HOW ARE YOU MY SON"

BECAUSE NEWSFLASH SIR THAT'S NOT HOW YOU TALK TO YOUR FUCKING CHILD

THEY AREN'T A FUCKING ROBOT TO TAKE AND CARRY OUT YOUR ORDERS THAT'S YOUR GODDAMN KID!

PEOPLE TREATED SEVEN WITH MORE FAMIARITY AND RESPECT

no offense to seven great guy rip man BUT STILL

Anyway on to actual analysis

After reading this note, several deductions can be made about our antagonist's character right off the bat, which in season 3 we see to be accurate assumptions

First of all the sending of the note "release me" constantly at the beginning of every reset presumably for the past several ones gives us a base line of a few things A) whoever wrote it is trapped B) they really want out C) whomever was to recive the note presumably can help with this D) this person is either very angry and resorting to formal wording as a form of passive aggression or they are simply a very formal person Had this not been the case they would have written "let me out" or "get me out" or even "help me"

Now for the post-corruption portion

"You are free of Enderian"

1) this person knows Enderian 2) This person knows at least of Icarus 3) They intentionally have been sending these to Icarus 4) despite being trapped they have some way to know what is going on 5) their particular view of Enderian is not favorable it's not overtly antagonistic however this is the one part of the not that can be read as at least partially sympathetic to Icarus

Finally "Now focus on your purpose"

1) they don't see Icarus as anything but a means to an end 2) tone wise it feels like both the chastisement of a child and an order to an unthinking being 3) "your purpose" seemingly refers to the prior statement of "release me" either implying that the writer believes Icarus is only here to get them out of wherever they are or that Icarus's sole purpose in life is to aid and assist them and 4) the use of "now" after the previous statement implies they view the corruption arc as simply something that was inhibiting the progression of them being let out

First off once again SIR THAT IS YOUR CHILD YOU MOTHERFUCKER-

In conclusion deductions that can be made from this note with the knowledge that i now hold are as follows: Fable wanted out of purgatory, they issued Icarus with the fulfillment of this task and saw the corruption arc as merely a speed bump on the road of getting his ass outta there. Fable is a pretentious douchebag. Like everyone else in his life Fable is constantly using his own son as a means to achieving his end goal.

Other notes:

Had Fable's motivations not been his underlying obsession with keeping what he believes is "his" even when it disrupts and disregards the rules of the universe and the sanctity of life he likely wouldn't have given 2 shits about Icarus.

If we view Fable's interactions with others through the lense of him thinking of those of the overworld as "his" his people his creations his world then it starts to become clearer that he only sees individuals as tools and for their potential usefulness to him. And if we want to take this view even further we could even say that he at least on some level viewed Alerion giving a place for his deceased mortals to restate something akin to how a child views their sibling stealing a toy from their room, which then implies that the war of the gods is just a big temper tantrum where Fable hurt his brother then his other siblings stepped in and went "hey woah man not cool you can hit Al dude he is literally just playing the game" to which Fable's response was to hurt them as well and now he's just got out of timeout and basically started blaming his parents for everything wrong in his life which is so silly goofy of him until you remember that these were people he was upset about his brother "stealing" from him and it becomes less silly goofy.

"But Lilly!" I hear you say because you've totally read this far, mhm definitely "If he doesn't actually care about the dead people, then why does he act nice? Why is his charisma stat so high?" Well to that I say is it easier to keep someone in one spot when you make them believe this is where they wanna be or when they know the whole truth?

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Life, 8/2/2024 Issue (No.15) ft. Kamen Rider Gotchard Cast Members (translation below)

Publication: July 17, 2024

The film version for the currently airing "Kamen Rider Gotchard" will finally release in theaters! We heard alot from the six main cast members on the highlights of the film and each other's future!

"What were your thoughts after reading the script?"

Motojima: I was very excited, as it felt like a side story to Kamen Rider Gotchard. In this film, the process of how past Houtaro became Kamen Rider Gotchard Daybreak is carefully depicted, so please pay attention to it.

Matsumoto: It was so moving, that tears would start flowing every time I read the script. I did my best to convey those emotions into my performance so that those who watch feel the same way.

Fujibayashi: When I first read it I thought, "Huh? Is Spanner even here?!" (laughs), but as I kept reading, it wasn't like that at all. In this film, I play a double role, which I think doubled the highlights, and personally, I felt a great sense of accomplishment after filming.

Abe: As it's a story that goes back and forth between the past and future, I found some parts to be alittle difficult to follow. However, as Reiyo-chan said, there are many scenes that moved me and gave off an intense feeling that only a film can give.

Tomizono: I also want to see this film on the big screen in theaters. I think one of the highlights is seeing how the characters who also appear in the TV series will affect the future in which the film takes place.

Kumaki: That's for sure. Those of you who have seen the TV series will recognize some things that'll make you think, "That thing from back then!," and I'm sure that you'll enjoy the film while reflecting on these various things.

"This time, DAIGO-san will make a guest appearance as "future Houtaro," who transforms into Kamen Rider Gotchard Daybreak."

Motojima: I was nervous before we even appeared together, but he was very kind to me. I could feel how much he cared about the character of Ichinose Houtaro. I was really happy that we were able to create this one role together.

Matsumoto: While they play the same Houtaro character, his personality and way of thinking are slightly different in the present and future. As Rinne, I was saddened at times by these differences, but I was able to empathize with him because I got to see Motojima-san and DAIGO-san's passionate performance up close. The two of them inspired me, and it also made me want to work harder, so I'm very grateful.

Fujibayashi: Ah! Junsei looks embarrassed!

Motojima: I didn't know you thought that way…that makes me happy!

"Now then, the theme of this film is related to the future. Please make a prediction about each other's futures."

Abe: I think that Kumaki-san will appear in a period drama.

(everyone but Abe & Kumaki): Oh~!

Abe: He's got a stern face, and I feel that a kimono would look good on him.

Kumaki: Oto-chan is both an actress and model, and her expressiveness is powerful, so I believe that she'll eventually become a top actress. With how sexy she is, it's hard to believe she's only in her early 20s, and I think she'll become an even more attractive actress as she gets older.

Fujibayashi: Well then, I'll talk about Rikiya. Even now, I think Rikiya has an androgynous aura to him, and I actually think that's precisely his strong point. That's why I hope he'll challenge himself to continue moving forward as he is now and become a one of a kind actor.

Tomizono: That makes me happy. I'm gonna make a big assumption that Yasu will continue to be an actor, and that he'll probably be traveling around the world (laughs).

(everyone but Tomizono & Fujibayashi): We can see that happening!

Tomizono: I think he's the type of person who always wants to try new things, so regardless of the country or location, he should be a globally active actor.

Motojima: I think that Reiyo-chan's crying performance is appealing. Her smile is cute, but her worried facial expression is also wonderful, so I'd like to see her play a two sided role that evokes the positive and negative of her character.

Matsumoto: When we were filming the scene where I become possessed by Zukyumpire, I thought about how Motojima-san would also be a good fit for 2.5D productions and roles, so I definitely want to see you challenge yourself to them!

Motojima: I might give it a try. I look forward to all of our futures!

[schumachersricciardo]

Shiver

Chapter Five - P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader, AND A SURPRISE!!!

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, blood/injuries (not graphic, but there is are mentions of it!), mentions of misogynistic thoughts and self doubt, not really graphic, but describes the sound of what doing CPR could lead to, not proofread, angst, badly written medical terminology, etc.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ A/N: I also did this on mobile, so I will format it better if need be tomorrow morning on my laptop!

♡ 8.3k words

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Qualifying, Silverstone

The paddock once again was absolute chaos as you entered it. There were more cameras than you could count and more people flocking to ask you what seemed like the same seven questions. Being at Silverstone meant a lot for Mercedes, but even more now since Lewis Hamilton still could not race due to personal matters. He had missed the past four races, and to miss his home race was sure to add insult to injury.

And a majority of yourself felt terribly, because you were at an all time high. You and Mick scored second and third place in Monaco. In Canada, Mick scored his maiden grand prix win - a literal first for him. But the highs didn’t end there as Spain rounded its pretty face.

As the first female reserve driver, and now having to take over Lewis’ spot while he’s absent, the pressure was higher than ever. At the Aramco GP, Mick again scored first and you second. Mercedes hadn’t see ‘One-Two’ victories like this in a very long time.

But there was nothing to compare to the feeling of winning your first maiden grand prix when the Austrian Grand Prix came to you. In a stunning act of grit and perseverance, you managed to edge out Mick for first place. You don’t think you could ever have topped that feeling while the United States’ National Anthem wrung out at the racetrack. Soon, your DMs and socials were being flooded with girls and women that were inspired by not only you, a woman in motorsport, but a winning and successful one. You couldn’t help but feel moved and ecstatic that you finally had an impact on the world. And if anything, you wanted that to be your legacy.

“You and Mick have had an excellent run these last few races. How are you feeling going into Silverstone and does the weather affect your confidence at all?” The interviewer sat across from you with a polite smile on her face.

“Thanks so much,” You began with a wide smile. “I think if you’re in the UK this kind of weather is to be expected, so I don’t know if I’m really shaken about it - But, obviously the wet weather poses more issues than solutions, but I think we’re both confident in our abilities as individuals, and as a team.”

She asked you a few more questions and after the interview was done, you knew you had to get ready for qualifying. You headed to your driver’s room only to find an all too familiar blond haired boy waiting for you.

“Don’t you have your own room, Mick?”

Your friend opened your driver’s room door and allowed you to step into it first. Closing it softly behind him, he took a quick scan of the room.

“Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you being all the way over here by yourself.”

Ever since your father had come back about a month ago, Mick had grown even more protective of you. And you really didn’t mind it; you knew there was no arguing with him about that. You’d see him stealing glances at you during press interviews, and keeping an extra eye on you as you went to the Mercedes motor home for a coffee. You couldn’t blame him.

“Hopefully the rain lets up tomorrow…” You mumbled as you sorted out your fireproofs and race suit. “I don’t think it will though.”

“Probably not…” Mick straightened his posture in the chair provided in the room. “It will be your first race in the rain, Smidge.”

“So?” You shrugged, putting on your clothes.

Your bruises had healed quite nicely and thankfully, before your next race no one had inquired about your cheek. You had a slight inclination to feel as though a boy named Mick had something to do with that…

“Ich mache mir Sorgen um dich (I’m worried about you).” Mick stopped you as you finished zipping up your suit, his suit already tied and hanging at his waist.

Looking down at where he sat, he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You reached with your free hand and moved some of his hair. Mick hummed happily as you moved your hand down to his cheek, caressing it reassuringly.

“Du machst dir immer Sorgen um mich (You’re always worried about me).” Mick shrugged in relinquishment, then stood to his feet and kissing the top of your head. You relished in what little privacy the tiny room gave you.

Between all the cameras, fans, interviews, and paparazzi - You two seldom had private moments together since your team’s winning streak began. Enjoying each other’s company in the quiet and stillness of your driver’s room, you leaned your head up against his chest, the steady beating of his heart giving you more than just comfort. As you inhaled the smell of his cologne, you made a mental note to save this moment for a rainy day.

“We should get going, or else people are going to get suspicious.” You finally pulled yourself away from him.

“Schätzen, people already think we are secretly married or leaders of a cult or something. I do not think us being absent from the paddock for five minutes will make them think any differently than they already do.” Mick let out a soft laugh as he opened the door again for you. Strutting out, you both went to your perspective sides of the garage to prepare for qualifying.

And as it came to be, you qualified fourth while Mick qualified second position. Your grid-mate Max Verstappen qualified with pole position. Overall, you and the Mercedes team felt quite confident for tomorrow’s race. Despite the inclement weather, everyone was excited for Silverstone as well as wishing Lewis was here as well. It was a weird and contradictory feeling that almost everyone had, too. This was his home race and being unable to race in it after not missing it for years, just had to be gut wrenching. But like Mick said, if it weren’t a serious issue, Lewis would have raced. And in truth and maybe a little bit of guilt, you had spoken to Lewis a few times asking him how he was doing and if he was okay. Always the gentleman, he reassured you that of all people, he would want you to be the one to take his place and that nobody but you deserved his seat - even if it was temporary.

You truly didn’t feel as though you deserved the friendship he’s was offering you and the encouragement he so freely gave. Yet, your words always overflowed with gratitude to the best of your ability.

You changed out of your suit and fireproofs, and back into the clothes you came to the paddock in originally. Waiting for Mick to do the same, you decided to go to the motor home to grab one more coffee. About ten minutes later, a very panicked and surprisingly of breath Mick rushed by your side while you sipped on your coffee.

“Schätzen! What did I say about leaving without me? I do not want… I just… Please do not scare me like that again.” Mick licked his lips, hunched over the coffee bar counter as he tried to catch his breath. Mick ran a very anxious hand through his now, undone hair, slowing his breathing down. All you could do was grin at the disheveled boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Mickey… I was thirsty?” You made your last word a question, because you know that coffee was not the way to replenish your thirst, but you wanted to try your luck at convincing him anyway.

“Schätzen… That is… Coffee…” Mick’s total lack of amusement shown across his deadpan expression. “And not for lack of trying, but why are you having a coffee this late in the day?”

“For funsies.” You grinned again as the two of you began to walk towards his car.

“I do not know what a funsies is, but how are you going to get any sleep tonight?” Again, you shrugged nonchalantly trying your best not to laugh at him. “How am I going to get any sleep?”

"What does your sleeping patterns have to do with my consumption of a very thirst quenching coffee, I might add?"

“You will be up talking in my ear all night during your caffeine high, no?” Mick finally broke the silence as he filed into the driver’s seat after making sure you were comfortable.

“No! I will not be doing that, in fact, I am going to… Do the opposite of that.”

Mick made his way to the hotel room making certain that he did not make you car sick. He always thought it was very strange that you would get carsick sat in the passenger seat, but not while driving at 200mph. But that was one of the many, many things he adored about you. About twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the hotel and made your way into his suite. You insisted that you could sleep in your own room… Three doors down… But Mick was more persistent than you had the energy to argue with, and what could it hurt?

The night went on and you both had gotten ready for the long awaited sleep. Trying to hide your caffeine high, you played some stupid game on your phone as you waited for Mick to get off the phone with his mother. Soon, he strode in and stopped in the doorway. There you were again, the picture perfect image of the life he longed for that he always kept near to his heart. You hadn’t heard him come into the room. You were still trying to focus on whatever game had your attention.

Mick quietly leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, gleaming and glowing over the fact that he was going to share a bed with you. And sure, there have plenty of times the two of you have slept in the same bed, but there was a feeling pitting in the bottom of Mick’s stomach that he should pay extra attention to this exact moment. He didn’t know what it was, but most of the time his gut and instinct were right. You looked up from your phone and met eyes with Mick. His facial expression was soft and serene. Despite the tiredness you could see wafting off of his body, you too had that strange feeling in your stomach. His gray t-shirt clung nicely to his torso, while his navy blue sweats sat just so on his hips. It was as if you were taking a million mental pictures of this silent interaction between the two of you.

Mick made his way to the side of the bed you had cleared for him. You awaited for him to get settled before tucking yourself safely underneath his arm. Mick hummed happily to himself as he began to feel sleep take over his body, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with each blink. Wrapping yourself tightly around him, intertwining your legs with his, you extended your neck as far as it could go to try and kiss his check, only for you to land on his jaw. His jaw pulsated in response and you could feel the breath catch in his chest. You. never wanted to forget this and you hoped that he wouldn’t either.

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Race Day, Silverstone

You took several deep breaths, exhaling as slowly as you could. It was indeed raining outside, which would make this race harder than usual… But also more dangerous. The famous Maggots, Becketts and Chapel turns hounded and clouded both your vision and your mind as you did your best to center yourself. You truly wanted to make not only Lewis proud, but yourself proud. Finally feeling grounded enough, you put your race suit on and made your way out to the garage.

You spotted Mick talking to his engineer out of the corner of your eye, hoping he caught you with his - knowing he would want to make sure you were alright, even if he couldn’t talk to you at that very second. Managing to get a few more stretches in, it was time for you to enter your car. From where you were sitting in the garage, you could tell that it was raining hard, but not hard enough for them to stop the race completely. Which had to mean the race conditions were safe enough for the drivers, which meant you felt immediately more relieved than you did ten minutes ago. Soon, it was time for the driver’s to line up for their formation lap. You could see Mick’s car two positions ahead of you, and you could almost hear him talking to himself you knew him that well. The lights went off and the formation lap began.

It wasn’t a terrible lap either, but you definitely could feel a difference in the way that the car handled in wet conditions versus when it is a dry race. And you were indeed reminded of so when you could feel the grip of your tires not performing the way you wanted them to even during the formation lap. You didn’t want anything to stop you from this race though, so you put that thought behind you. It was just rain after all. Taking one last deep breath, you focused on the lights ahead of you turning green - and away everyone went.

Lap 14

You were having trouble with your car, but not enough to want to retire it. It seemed like many other drivers were having issues after realizing just how rainy it was. Still, you persisted and managed to edge your way up to P3, while Mick held a steady pace behind Max. You were doing your best to fend off Daniel behind you.

Lap 22

Eight laps later and Mick had overtaken Max to claim P1. You were still holding strong at P3, which you really didn’t mind. If you could keep the pace you were going until the end of the race, you’d get a podium and you’d get points. And that’s all you could think about as you began lap 23.

That was until Max had dodged something on the track unexpectedly, and because of the rain you couldn’t react as fast as you needed or even see what it was that he was evading. The tires underneath you were not gripping the pavement below them either. And being that you were just behind him during the Maggots, Becketts, and Chapel you really tried your best to keep focused on the race. Max did his best and swerved out of the way of the debris, but you were not so fortunate. Maybe it was because you were a female and you didn’t have as fast of reflexes as a man… Or maybe it was because you didn’t train hard enough to be prepared for such a wet race. Or maybe it was just simply bad fucking luck.

Max expertly swerved and managed to save his car and maintain his safety, but he ended up clipping the right corner of Mick’s rear wing. Mick spun slightly out of track limits and hit the barrier as he was on the straight now.

“Mick, you alright?” Mick’s race engineer could be heard on the radio.

“Yeah, just fine. Sorry about the car.” Mick sat quietly in his vehicle for a moment, honestly only feeling a bit of whiplash.

Mick quickly exited the vehicle and made his way over to the safe side of the barrier.

Seconds later, he could hear the unmistakable noise of a high speed crash. Fairly close to him too. He crouched down and put his arms over his head instinctually even though he was still wearing his helmet. He didn’t know what had just happened.

You attempted to also swerve to avoid whatever Max was avoiding, but you had lost all control of the car, and vision of the racetrack in front of you. The rain was heavily falling and if only your visor had tiny little windshield wipers, maybe the entire thing could’ve been steered cleared from originally. Seriously struggling to keep your car on the ground, something must’ve happened between the time you tried to steer into the infamous turn, and when you tried to steer away from the barrier.

You couldn’t see or feel anything, but the car flipping at least twice while you were still in it. The G-Force was so great you could feel yourself almost immediately passing out from it. Then you had hit something else besides the barrier… Something like a car.

“Can we know your status? Can you talk to us?” Your race engineer had repeated your name, trying to get your attention. You couldn’t figure out where you were or even what to say as you felt an overwhelming dizziness take over you.

“Okay, red flag. There’s been a crash. Red flag. Red flag everybody, please return to the pit lane for now.”

The audience could overhear every single driver’s engineer tell them the same thing. All the drivers wanted to know was who crashed. As the individual drivers began to return to the pit lane, there were several of them that had to drive past you to get there. Soon, silence and quiet so thick and looming fell over the entire racetrack. Even the grandstands were silent.

Mick finally stood up from where he was crouched, also attempting to make sense of what happened. He knew he would get fined if he went back onto the track, but truly the person who could’ve possibly crashed that soon after him… That wasn’t Max… Because he saw Max drive past him after he crashed into the barrier… Would have been…

Faster than he had ever ran before, he sprinted to where your car was hanging sideways and partly upside on the barrier. He didn’t care about any fines or penalties as he hastily scanned the cockpit of your car for any signs of injury. Motionless, you slightly hung with your helmet weighing your head down. He knew he shouldn’t touch you, or move you. He wasn’t a professional and he didn’t want to hurt you any further… But his heart seemed to break into billions of pieces when he saw you there as lifeless as you were. He removed his helmet, to try and get a better look at your status.

The rain was pouring harder, but Mick remained unmoved as he waited for emergency service to get to you. He was soaking wet, and probably very cold… But he didn’t notice. And what seemed like in no time at all, they finally arrived and started to assess the situation and the best way to get you out of your very damaged car. Mick stood idly by, doing his best to not get in their way. He knew for a fact he’d be riding with you to whatever hospital they were going to take you to, but the anticipating and the painstaking slow process of trying to rescue you was making him feel anxious and afraid.

“It looks like she broke her leg, maybe her arm too”

“Her helmet is a bit cracked on this side”

“Is she breathing?”

“Okay, on three, the two of you are going to release her belt, and then we will catch her”

“Is the gurney ready?”

“One… Two…”

“Three.���

The emergency service successfully lowered your body from where it had been hanging ever so slightly. Mick immediately was at your side as they put your unconscious body on the gurney. Mick had asked someone if he should remove your helmet, just in case it was obstructing your breathing, but they insisted that they would do that at the hospital. Mick could only trust them now. Climbing into the back of the ambulance with you, Mick scooted as closely as he they would allow him to while they hooked you up to the various monitors. Again, commotion started and Mick was demanded to move over so they could begin chest compressions.

Mick could hear the way your ribs broke underneath the weight of the man trying to save your life.

It was a sound he never wanted to hear again.

In record time, the ambulance reached the hospital, the man still doing compressions. The back doors flew open and the emergency room staff arrived at either side of you to begin triage.

“Sir, you’re going to have to wait in the lobby”

“Sir, you can’t come back here”

“Sir, we are going to do everything we can, but you need to give us room and head to the lobby”

“Sir, we will call security-“

Mick reluctantly conceded as he huffed out of the emergency room, only to catch your feet behind wheeled into some room. In a state of total shock and disbelief, he headed to the emergency room and approached the front desk.

“Hi… Hello… Emmmm… My friend was just admitted with serious injuries to your emergency room… Will there be any way I could receive… Emm… Updates?” Mick nervously tapped on the front desk, his race suit dripping water onto the floor. His hair had finally stopped dripping too as he waited for an answer. He could hum in anticipation.

“Are you related to this person?” The receptionist gave a polite smile.

“Emmmm, no. Not technically, but I am really all she has…” Mick pleaded with his big blue eyes to the receptionist, trying his best not to give up and cry in a ball on the floor.

“I’m sorry, sir. Unless you are family or her husband, then we really won’t be able to share information with you. But please, take a seat and we will do our best for her.” The receptionist motioned to the lobby behind Mick. It had a few people in it, which made Mick’s heart ache even more.

The driver thanked her and took a seat in the far corner. Sitting down, he took a deep breath and exhaled. He cursed to himself in German when he realized he didn’t even have his phone with him. Groaning, he put his head in his hands and covered his face with his now clammy palms. He truly didn’t know how much time had passed before he felt someone tapping on his shoulders. Mick rubbed his eyes and glanced up from where he sat.

“Hey… I uh, hope you don’t mind me being here. brought you your phone and like a change of clothes, and stuff… I thought you might want it.” The Australian accent permeated through the soundless lobby of the hospital. Daniel stood there with a slight smile. He was also still in his race suit.

“Oh god, thank you. I was just, uh, thinking about that.” Mick thanked the Aussie again, basically begging him to take a seat. To Mick’s surprise though, many more drivers, Toto and your race engineer, began to file into the lobby.

Mick stood to his feet and greeted everyone that had arrived with whispers of gratitude. He wished you knew and that he could tell you just how many people care about you. The drivers talked amongst themselves trying to recall what led up to that moment. Mick himself tried to get some answers. But to no avail, there wasn’t a solution to everyone’s current problem. The automatic doors opened once again and as if it were shot in slow motion, every single person’s head turned to the newest person joining the group of concerned drivers.

There were looks of worry, and some of disbelief exchanged throughout the lobby as everyone stayed still as they waited with bated breaths. Sure enough, Mick walked over to the man and pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m… Fuck, I’m so sorry, mate….” Max Verstappen was in the embrace of not only his fellow grid-mate, but his lifelong friend. The Dutch driver did his best to hide his tears of frustration at himself. Mick pulled away and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

“It could have happened to any of us, it is not your fault, I promise you.”

The other drivers and team members seemed to relax after the interaction between the German and Dutch driver. About an hour maybe two later, Mick said more goodbyes and more thank you’s to the people who came by, but needed to leave to finish up their own reports and debriefings of the now canceled race. Daniel stayed behind to keep Mick company. As close as Daniel was with you, he couldn’t imagine how this was affecting your best friend… Or rather, your soulmate. Daniel in true form, cracked some jokes here and there trying to ease the tension. And Mick did his best to reciprocate in kind.

Four hours later, Daniel was fast asleep as he had head leaned up against the hospital wall and his arms folded over his chest. Mick tried to get some shut eye as well, but at any moment he could have news about you. The German driver once more heard the automatic doors open and now to his astonishment, an all too familiar face entered.

“Lewis? Wha-What are you doing here?” Mick brought Lewis in for a tight hug.

“I saw the crash and heard the news, I was a bit far, but I drove as fast as I legally could to get here.” Mick remained silent. “I’m so sorry, Mate. That… It really should’ve been me.”

“For Schumacher?” The nurse spoke aloud as she held her clipboard tightly to her chest, looking around the room for anyone that might respond.

Lewis and Daniel traded extremely confused looks, while Mick just stood there awkwardly, trying to process if he heard the nurse correctly. Again, she repeated herself.

“Schumacher…?” Daniel half whispered/mouthed and half said aloud with a chuckle. The nurse just nodded. Daniel ended up having to elbow Mick to get him to snap out of it.

“Right, oh so sorry. I am Mick. Schumacher. Mick Schumacher!”

Even if the boy had been trained by PR his entire life, it definitely did not show now as he timidly stepped towards the nurse.

“Lovely. Please come with me, Mr. Schumacher.”

Before Mick followed the nurse, he jogged back to Daniel and whispered something in his ear that was inaudible to the Brit.

“Don’t let her dad anywhere near this hospital.” Daniel just nodded in response, going over all the ways he was going to prevent that from happening while Mick was busy. Daniel frankly, would rather eat snails before he let your dad near you.

Mick followed the nurse to some room of the hospital. You weren’t in it, so Mick didn’t quite care for it.

“Hello, my name is Carly and I am one of the nurses here. We see you are here for…” Carly searched the clipboard as fast as she could for your name. Saying it out loud making sure she got it right, she put the clipboard down. “She sustained many injuries during her crash, all of which the doctor on call will go over with you very shortly. I am just here to get you to sign a few papers.”

“What do I have to sign? I will be paying for every medical bill she has, that is not an issue.” Mick stated as a matter of fact while she put the pen down in front of him.

“That’s good to hear, but this is just more of a legal thing. We need your signature on these three papers indicating that you were made aware, consented to, and further agreed that you are now her official medical proxy.”

“Me? But we are not married or anything.” If he wasn’t confused before, he sure as hell is now.

“Right, well you don’t have to be married to be named someone’s medical proxy if they named you legally in the case of not being able to make proper medical decisions of their own volition.” The blond haired boy listened intently as she continued. “Legally, she has named you her medical proxy for all decisions relating to her care, and if needed end of life care.”

Mick continued to ask questions, but of course he signed what needed to be signed. The nurse thanked him for his time and instructed him to wait for the doctor to arrive shortly. Mick pulled out his phone and replied to a few people before he heard the door open again.

“Hi, Mr. Schumacher, I’m Doctor Collins and I am the on call ER doctor. This is the on call ER surgeon, Doctor Wyatt.” The two doctors shook hands and took their seats across from the troubled boy. Mick’s anxiety once again began to rise.

“We want to be as honest with you as possible, because if it were our loved one we wouldn’t someone beating around the bush.” Doctor Collins cleared his throat and took out some x-rays, while Mick only could nod in response, frozen in fear. “She sustained a broken leg in four places, her arm in two, and some broken ribs too. She also has a bruised spine.”

“I was able to put some rods in her leg to stabilize it while it heals, her arm in a cast , and as for broken ribs and a bruised spine, there’s not much to do about those except for pain management.”

All the medical jargon was causing Mick’s head to spin in circles as he tried to catch up to them. They went over your extensive injuries and did their best to be as docile, but straightforward as promised.

“We saw that her helmet was cracked when she came in, but until she wakes up, we won’t know if she has brain damage. Her CT and MRI both came back clean as of now.” Doctor Collins reiterated with the smallest sliver of hope tinged in his voice.

“All in all, we believe she will make a full recovery…” Doctor Wyatt began. Mick leaned forward in anticipation. “We did have to put her in a medically induced coma for now. The trauma to her body and the fact that crashed at such a high speed, is cause enough for it. And while it will help her leg and ribs heal… We unfortunately, wont know the full extent until she wakes.”

“How long will she have to be in that coma for, though?” After several minutes of receiving and attempting to retain the information being thrown at him, Mick finally spoke up, his voice small and scared.

“We’re unsure of that, really. It could be a few days, or a few weeks. The good news is that she does still have brain function. She does respond to stimuli, so the coma is really for her internal healing.”

Mick and the two doctors traded more information, finally allowing Mick to go and see you. They were exactly as you said you would be, your leg propped up with absolutely ghastly rods sticking out of it. Your arm was elevated with a pillow as it lay snuggly in its blue cast. You were attached to a ventilator, your eyes closed. Even so, you looked so peaceful, more peaceful than Mick had ever seen you. Mick tiptoed into the room, pulling a chair beside the left side of you. His eyes couldn’t help but tear up at the sight. They moved up and down your again, broken body as he shuddered with sadness and fear. Your body was never meant to look like this… It was the most beautiful thing Mick had ever seen, and yet here you were… You were still beautiful, by god were you, but you didn’t deserve any of this.

“The doctors said that you might be able to hear me… Even though you are… Sleeping,” Mick wiped the tears from his cheeks. He sniffled trying to keep his composure. You were all he had. “I just wanted to tell you that you will never be alone while you are here. I do not care if I end up having such bad body odor, I am not leaving!” Mick laughed to himself knowing that someone was going to eventually make him leave and shower.

“Oh, Smidge… Smidge, what have we done?” Mick’s voice went just above a whisper. “I keep saying I am going to protect you, but I never have been able to… But if you can hear me… Just know that… Just know that I am going to be here for you.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

A week went by and true to his word, Mick only would go to his hotel room to shower and change clothes. You had many visitors, too. Mick’s mother and his sister often came by when it was time for Mick to rest. The other members of the current grid had sent you numerous bouquets of flowers, with Daniel and Lewis visiting you when they could. Mick had also announced that until you were better, he wouldn’t be driving and that there was an entirely new team for Mercedes. They showed great potential and everyone was thrilled to see what they could do.

Mick was startled awake by someone knocking on the door. Mick did a quick stretch and went to the door. To his delight, someone very special stood there with a bouquet of giant sunflowers.

“Uncle Sebastian! What on earth are you doing here?” Mick brought him into a close embrace, holding him closely for several seconds. Gesturing for him to come into your room, Mick thanked him for the flowers and put them aside.

“I guess flowers weren’t the most original idea.” Sebastian Vettel, four time world champion, smiled widely at the wide variety of bouquets that crowded one corner of your hospital room.

“Oh, please, you know she loves flowers and that sunflowers are her favorite. See, there are no other sunflowers here.” Mick put the sunflowers down and turned to face his closest family friend. Pulling out another chair for him, they both sat beside you. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see her and maybe spend some time with her. And of course, to check on you.” Sebastian did his best to keep his expression neutral as he looked at your healing, but still wounded body.

“Did my mother send you?” Mick was only half joking, because his entire other half already knew the answer.

“Would you be surprised if I said yes?” Sebastian and Mick spoke for another handful of minutes, catching up and making sure each of their family’s were doing well.

“So what are you really doing here, Seb?” Mick finally felt brave enough to ask. Sebastian just smiled again, looking over at his friend.

“I’m here to take over for a few days. You need to get sleep that’s not in a hospital cot, and you need to eat something that’s not hospital food.” Deep down inside Mick knew this was a losing battle. “I watched her grow up, you know? I want nothing more than to sit with her and watch her heal now.”

With some hopeless arguing, Mick started to gather his things.

“Seb, do you think I could… Just have a few seconds with her? I just want to tell her that I will not be here for a few days.”

Sebastian pulled out his phone and decided to call his wife back home while Mick said goodbye. Mick made his way over to your bedside once again, and grabbed your hand.

“Schätzen… It seems as though I’m being forced out for a few days,” Mick let out a chuckle. “But I am just a phone call away, and even better - Uncle Seb is going to be here! I remember how much you love him… So, that will be fine…” The youngest Schumacher was finding it exceedingly difficult to leave you.

What if you woke up and he wasn’t here? What if you didn’t wake up and he wasn’t here? His mind was plagued with thought after thought as he mustered up enough courage to say goodbye. Placing a longing kiss on your temple, he exited the hospital room.

“Call me if there are any changes, even if they are small.” Sebastian pulled his friend into a hug and reassured him again. Mick took one last look at you before heading down the long corridor.

Sebastian headed back into your room, getting comfortable in the chair beside you. He hummed to himself as he relaxed the best that he could. Maybe that’s where Mick picked it up from… Sebastian grabbed his backpack off of the ground and rummaged through it for a few minutes. Finally, he pulled out The Fellowship of The Ring which was one of your favorite books. Sebastian debated reading to you in German, but he decided against it because trying to translate J. R. R. Tolkien was far too much effort than he wanted to put in this evening. He just hoped and prayed that Mick could get some much deserved rest.

“When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Three days had passed and Mick was due back any minute now. Sebastian truly loved the time he got to spend to you as he read your favorite books, and got to recall some of the fondest racing memories he had. He hadn’t told you some of the stories in a very long time, and some not at all before then. You always saw him as someone you could look up to, and the fangirl in you wouldn’t believe that four time world champion was reading The Lord of The Rings to you of all people.

Mick Schumacher walked up to the room door, knocking politely as to not to startle Sebastian. Mick pressed on at the welcome of Sebastian voice. Your bruising was much better, and even though you were still comatose, Mick could tell just by looking at you that you were in fact healing quite nicely.

“She was wonderful company. She quizzed me on the entire F1 Grid once again.” Sebastian grinned and winked as he scooped up his belongings.

“Again, huh? You already beat everyone in Grill The Grid with that!” Mick teased elbowing his friend in the side.

Soon, the two friends exchanged goodbyes and Mick once again left alone with you. He sat in his normal spot, recounting his days “off” to you. There was still media coverage about your crash, but he managed to make sure that your privacy was respected and that no one outside himself and the hospital staff knew of your condition. He was still protecting you even when you couldn’t protect yourself.

Another two days had passed, and Mick was down in the cafeteria looking for some lunch. It was only until he was making his way to the elevators and back to your room, when his name was being called over the intercom. The entire hospital was looking for him, which meant only one of two things:

Either you were dead.

Or you were finally awake.

There was a steady beeping that you could notice, yet do nothing about. Your body felt absolutely frozen where you lay. And truth be told, you had little to no memory of how you got to this spot. Your eyes felt crusted with over tiredness and too much sleep. Your body for some reason too, felt like it had just been stampeded by a herd of antelopes - paralyzed by the fear of your autonomy being stripped from you. You had to know though where you were and you were going to do anything you could in order to force your eyelids open to see the world around you.

Ever so slowly you began (or attempted to at least) to relay messages to your brain to try and open your eyes. You could feel something irritating your throat, taking up all space in there for air and for swallowing whatever saliva you could possibly muster. This did not feel good. As your vision came finally into play, you were more confused than you were before you decided to end your stream of unconsciousness.

You were in a hospital room.

And you were pretty sure you were hooked up to a ventilator as well, considering the low and unwavering noise that they make ringing in your ears. You could recognize that sound anywhere. It was one of the last things you heard before your mother passed away… And how ironic would it be if it were the last thing you heard, too.

You began to viciously cough as your body awoke from its seemingly comatose existence. Your own body was rejecting whatever tube or mechanism was down your throat. You just wanted it out, and over with.

Get it out. Get it out. You repeated in your head, hoping someone would hear your thoughts. The previous steady beeping of the heart and vitals monitor began to pick up as you continued to panic. It was as if your body was on fire, but as much as you doused yourself with water, it persisted and began to seep into your skin. You couldn’t escape.

A few seconds later, you could hear someone yelling, but your auditory system had not caught up to whatever conundrum you had found yourself in currently. Your vision was still blurry, though you had been awake for what seemed like minutes. A cacophony of shouting and other words you didn’t understand surrounded you as your eyes darted from blurry figure to blurry figure. You tried your hardest to focus your vision and your breathing, but something inherently was stopping you.

“Push the morphine, we need to get her relaxed while we extubate her”

“Careful not to hurt her neck, we won’t know the stages of her injuries until we can talk to her”

“Okay, can you hear me? My name is Nurse Elsie, I’m going to be removing the tube in your throat”

“Just keep your eyes on me, I know it’s scary”

“Tube’s out, let’s get her propped up and her vitals rechecked”

“We’re going to call your friend in here now, too”

And just as quickly as you had to watch and feel this hospital staff tend to you, was just as quickly as your mind began to play tricks on you.

Minutes later, you thought your shitty vision was really messing with you now. You remained silent as they entered the room, a small glimmer of hope echoed in the lines creasing beside their eyes. This had to be heaven, it just had to be. You had finally passed and soon your mom would be striding in, too.

Coming into clear view, the blond haired boy grabbed your hand and gave it a minimal squeeze. He didn’t want to hurt you any further. He looked older than the last you remember him to be. The lines on his forehead apparent that he’s aged some. He was also more muscular, his hair longer than the short almost buzzed hair you could last recall that he had.

But as he leaned in, you could see how bright his blue eyes really were under the fluorescent hospital lights. Suddenly, you felt a calming wave of relief wash over you. All that was left to do now was figure out how the fuck you got into this situation. Moving some stray hairs behind your ear, the boy you have loved your entire life parted his lips with a small smile - filling your now working ears with the sweetest voice you’ve ever known.

“Smidge?”

You could hardly believe your eyes.

“Ja (Yes.)”

Mick’s smile just grew wider and wider as he heard your voice for the first time in almost two weeks. The nurses continued to check your vitals and did their best to work around a very thrilled Mick. You were frightened though, knowing that you were in a hospital but had no recollection of how you got there. Mick wasn’t able to sit beside you just yet, but as he hung back his eyes never moved from yours. After the nurses were all done checking your throat and your leg that still had the rods in it, a very official looking doctor walked in soon thereafter.

“Hello, it’s good to see you awake. My name is Doctor Reynolds, and I’ve been watching you and your progress for the last two weeks.” You remained staring at Mick for any type of advice. “I’m just going to ask you a few questions, just to kind of gauge where you are. Is that alright?” Your eyes went from person to person as you looked towards Mick for the go ahead. Mick simply gestured slightly and nodded. And you followed suit.

“Great, can you tell us your name?”

You did your best to talk, but your throat was killing you. You took your time as you very weakly pronounced it.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Im Krankenhaus, glaube ich (In the hospital, I think).”

Mick’s ears perked and his attention turned fully. You hardly ever spoke German to anyone else, but Mick. You were always afraid of making a fool out of yourself with such a seemingly difficult language. The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed while he wrote something down.

“Right, okay. Do you remember how you got here?”

“Ich kann mich nur an bestimmte Dinge erinnern (I can only remember certain things).”

The doctor sighed as he turned to face Mick. Trying to keep it as hushed as possible, the doctor leaned in closer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that much German. Do you think you could translate for me?”

“Of course… But why is she speaking German?”

“It’s hard to say, but maybe this is just her brain’s way of comforting her. She seems to know you, and seems to know that you know German. I think she’s trying to figure out a way to come back to earth, in a way.”

The pair spoke briefly some more as you waited for the doctor to return. You looked around the room and saw what had to be twenty different bouquets, cards, and gifts on the other side of the room. The sunflowers particularly caught your eye as you sat and wondered who might’ve given them to you. Eventually, Mick pulled a chair and sat between you and the doctor. He grabbed your hand, and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright. Do you remember anything before two weeks ago?” Mick translated the doctor’s question in German for you. You shook your head. “And how do you know Mick?”

“Ich kenne ihn aus der Schule (I know him from school).”

“Do you remember anything about your car crash two weeks ago?” Mick was doing his best to catch up with the two of you.

“Das Letzte, woran ich mich erinnere... Ich wollte, dass Mick mit mir zum Abschlussball geht… Das konnte er aber nicht, wegen eines seiner Formel-3-Rennen (The last thing I remember was when I wanted Mick to go to the prom with me, but he couldn’t because one of his Formula 3 races).”

Mick’s face dropped, his expression deeply saddened. He remembers how badly he wanted to take you, but he was just starting his new season and couldn’t afford to miss it at the time. But again, that was years ago, and the fact that you couldn’t remember anything since…

“Okay, last question and then I’ll let you get some more rest…” The doctor took a deep breath and sighed. Looking between the both of you, the doctor knew this was going to be a long journey, and there was absolutely no way of telling if this was retrograde amnesia or something more serious.

“Was ist die Frage (What is the question)?”

The doctor looked at the both of you, your hand wrapped tightly in Mick’s. With a faint smile, the doctor made his way to the door before turning on his heel.

“Are you comfortable with going home with Mick so you can recover at his house or is there someone else we want us to call?”

You took pause as Mick translated the question for you. Truly, you almost felt offended at the question. But again, you really were in no position to argue since you had rods sticking out of your leg and your arm in a cast. And certainly, there was probably a certain legal/liability reason behind it on the doctor's end. Taking one last look around your hospital room, you finally answered. And unbeknownst to you, it was the answer Mick Schumacher had been longing for you to say since the first time he laid a very confused, but adoring eye on you all those years ago.

“Yes…" You began in English, your throat dry and your voice coarse. "Er hält mein Herz in seinen Händen. Es gibt keinen Ort, an dem ich lieber sein könnte, als bei ihm zu sein (He holds my heart in his hands. There is nowhere I rather be, than be with him).”

[ingravinoveritas]

(**Warning: Spoilers for the OFMD 2 season finale follow. Read at your own risk.)

I've just watched the finale of season 2 of Our Flag Means Death, and it has stirred a lot of thoughts and feelings in me (as it has many of us, unquestionably). I had initially planned to include some of these thoughts in my review of GO 2 (which I still have not written), but the death of Izzy Hands (Con O'Neill) has brought back some of the feelings I had a few months ago, so I'd like to talk about the theme of ableism in GO 2 and OFMD.

Since the first season, Izzy Hands has seemingly been a polarizing figure, but there has been a clear emotional resonance on the part of fans toward him, and especially now in season 2. To have his arc and "redemption" come in such an ignominious fashion certainly feels like a slap in the face to those fans. I would characterize myself as "Izzy neutral" (that is, I did not hate him, but I didn't necessarily feel a deep connection to him, either), but what troubles me is how Izzy was ultimately treated as a disabled character.

Earlier in episode 8, the Revenge crew is jailed, and Prince Ricky pulls Izzy out of the cell to have a drink, and during this exchange Izzy says this line, which we had previously heard in one of the trailers:

It was Izzy who the writers/creative team specifically chose to have say this line, and because of that, I find it very difficult to swallow the idea that he was the one character who was later killed. That in the end, the character who speaks about belonging is the one who doesn't get to belong. As if he was there to further Ed's storyline, to be an object lesson for him, and was then disposable after that.

Further compounding the issue was the crew using Izzy's prosthetic leg as a grave marker (presumably under the assumption that he no longer needed it). But for many disabled people, prostheses and wheelchairs and other accommodations are what help us thrive in the world and are part of who we are, so to me, taking that away from him inadvertently diminished how complex and multifaceted Izzy had become as a character and seemingly reduced him to little more than a mascot.

As a person on the autism spectrum who works in the field of disability, Izzy's line about belonging resonated with me extremely deeply. For many of us who are neurodivergent or disabled, this is the stuff of our everyday lives--being told through childhood, adolescence, and even adulthood that we are nothing, and that our lives do not have value. I spent so many years searching for that sense of belonging, to know that I had a place in the world, and it was not something anyone could give to me, but something I had to fight for. To make that space, because no one else would.

As I've said before, while I have watched both shows, I am far more into and emotionally connected to GO than OFMD. This leads me to GO season 2, and the parallels to this that I saw there. In GO 2, we have the character of Saraqael (Liz Carr), who is an angel that uses a wheelchair (as does the actor who plays them). It's shown in one of the episodes that Saraqael's power is to miracle wheelchair ramps everywhere they go, and in nearly all of the reviews and articles I've read about the second season, this trait is met with widespread praise.

But to me it mirrored precisely what we see in real life--that is, that the burden of accessibility is often placed on disabled people ourselves. I would have loved to have seen one of the able-bodied angels have not only the power, but the desire to create those ramps. It was disheartening to me to think that even in a seemingly ideal place like Heaven (although we know it certainly isn't), it is the disabled character who has to create a place for themselves.

The character choices around Saraqael and Izzy are something I would describe as benevolent ableism, in that while no harm was likely intended, it still reinforces long-ingrained prejudices and ideas about disability. There is so much intersectionality between queerness and disability as well, and so it is disappointing to see an opportunity to have that idea of "belonging" encompass every character only encompass certain characters instead.

I truly think this will only change if and when we have disabled people behind the camera as well as in front of it. And I hope that day comes sooner rather than later so that all of the fans who see themselves in Izzy or Saraqael are not left feeling the way they do now...

[sunriseverse]

it's been years since i made a reclist from my bookmarks, and i've trimmed down what i had and added some new things to my bookmarks, so here's a reclist, from oldest to newest bookmarks! fics beneath the cut with the original summary and my recollections/comments after. (please note that for any fics with smut, i can't comment on how the smut is, because i skip those portions.)

Tony Stark Meets an Extremely Unimpressed Time Traveler, or, Thomas Barrow Makes a Surprisingly Good 21st Century Butler by Alex51324 (87k, t, no warnings)

In which Tony Stark ditches a boring party, makes an addition to the household staff, throws a much better party, and tries not to sexually harass his new butler. Or,In which Thomas Barrow has a little trouble getting home from the pub, is generally unimpressed with many aspects of the 21st century, never thought of himself as a conservative dresser before, and may or may not be falling in lust with his new employer. tl:dr: Thanks to time travel, Thomas Barrow becomes the Avengers' butler.

my commentary: this is actually one of the earliest fics i bookmarked! i haven't been into the mcu in...........a long, long time, but i distinctly remember pulling an all-nighter to read the entire thing when i first ran across it. i'll be honest, i had clicked into it assuming it was crack, but it's not—it's played entirely earnest, and, in my recollection, does so well. and, well, what can i say; thomas was my favourite character back when downton abbey was airing (for reasons that i did not realise until much later). largely free of angst or action conflict; the issues stem largely from the conflict between thomas' biases and (mis)assumptions and the modern (well, 2010s) world.

Ain’t No Nancy Kerrigan by cleverqueen (t, 13k, no warnings)

It's 1994, and young Lisa Snart's jumps aren't strong enough for an Olympic singles skater. Thankfully, her older brother has an athletic friend who can match her in pairs. Mick Rory is hopelessly in love with Leonard Snart, though he'd never say anything about it, so he jumps at a chance to do Len's little sister a favor. If he's patient and works hard, maybe he'll even get to skate with her older brother.

my commentary: as i remember it, this fic was an absolute delight! i don't remember a lot of mick-pov fics, though i haven't............been in the dc tags in ages, let alone the cw dc tags, but it's really well-written! it's canon setting, but takes place pre-canon, and the dynamics are very well-written and enjoyable. it's even tagged "pining", which, as i remember it, applies very much so, and, well, what can i say; i have tropes i love.

and who shall wear the starry crown by consumptive_sphinx (2k, t, major character death)

Blackfoot serves Shadowclan, first and always. That is not, in fact, the same thing as serving Tigerstar.

my commentary: i think this is the only wc fanfic i have bookmarked on ao3? and deservedly so! it's a human au, and while it's short, it's so well thought out. the worldbuilding and lore that's hinted at, everything you can feel beneath the surface—so good!

The Nationwide Network of Oz by ErinPtah (3k, t, no warnings)

It's long past time Oz upgraded from the wireless telegraph.

my commentary: it's such a shame there's not a lot of oz novel fics—i truly think the series doesn't get the attention it deserves. a fun little short dorothy/ozma fic, with a dash of magitech and blogging.

Spaceships, Private Jets, and Minivans: How to Start a Global Incident in 5 Minutes Flat by Scientia_Fantasia (49k, t, no warnings)

One early summer morning in Riverside, Iowa, a spacecraft crash lands into the backyard of a highschooler by the name of James T. Kirk. Earth history is changed forever.

my commentary: i actually lost this fic for a long time and only tracked it down after a year of searching; it's a fun, teenaged star trek au—i'm usually not too fond of aus where characters are teens, but this one pulled it off very well! and it's rather funny, and the way the characters run into each other and get involved in the plot is very fun!

we make our friends, we make our enemies by ORiley42 (52k, t, no warnings)

Benji finds out he has a new neighbor. This new neighbor happens to be off-the-charts hot. Hijinks, friendship, more-than-friendship, and secret agent drama ensue.

my commentary: i actually read this from start to finish as it was updating! the author, ORiley42, is a fabulous writer, and this fic? so good. i've fallen away from the mi fandom, but i have fond memories of it, so this fic has a warm place in my heart. also, the trope of a civilian getting involved in spy bullshit? so good. and the pining. the drama.

The Long Con by harleygirl2648 (19k, t, no warnings)

There are two kinds of cons: long and short. Short cons mean short-term gain, with smaller rewards, mostly just everything you have in your pocket at that moment. Long cons mean lots of time, effort, costumes, masks, props, sets, and other characters all looking to set up the downfall of the mark and take them for all that they've got. Con Artist/Thieves AU: Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are both interested in acquiring a Botticelli, but both of them are quite fond of each other's short games. For both of them, it's the deception and thrill of the game that's worth more than the payout. And well, after all, aren't the easiest people to scam are those who think they are smart enough to not get scammed?

my commentary: it's an art heist au, what more can i say? it's funny, well-written, and, crucially, fun.

deus ex machina by coloredink (26k, t, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

"What the hell?" said Katz. "Is that--" "Yeah, I know, it's kinda flashy." Will shut the car door behind him and patted his pockets for the little fob to lock the car. "Isn't that Hannibal Lecter's car?" The car beeped to indicate it was locked. "Yeah, I guess so." Will walked away, toward the field, Katz on his heels. "I needed a new car." "So you bought the cannibal car?" ----- You asked for it: the one where Hannibal is a murderous self-driving car.

my commentary: every time i talk about this fic, people are like. [newt geiszler voice] w—wh—whhhhattttt? and, yeah, okay, i get it, i do, but i swear to you, will graham x the luxury car possessed by hannibal lecter the cannibal's soul is, in fact, a fantastic fic. it's so well written, so funny, so novel. it's the cannibal car!

The Man Who Invented Sherlock Holmes by Calais_Reno (15k, t, no warnings)

John Watson, struggling young doctor, doomed to live an ordinary life, dreams of writing detective fiction. If he can just figure out his hero's name, the story will practically write itself.

my commentary: look. i am, at my core, a lover of experimental, weird concepts. and "john watson accidentally brings a fictional character into being and they fall in love" is, in fact, precisely something i would like. and, and, and! it's acd canon, and written in such a charming style! it is truly one of my favourite fics.

A Really Private Person by astolat (18k, m, no warnings)

The end of the world started on a Wednesday in March.

my commentary: i don't have many poi fics bookmarked, but this one is absolutely the best out of all of them. the emotions i will always associate with reading it are that of being half lucid and experiencing something just so utterly satisfying it makes you smile like a cat.

I've Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York) by gyzym (19k, t, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

Arthur's a corporate lawyer, Eames owns the coffee shop across the street, and all good love stories start with a quadruple shot latte.

my commentary: an ode to struggling out of sunk cost fallacy, finding people who love you, and slowly, slowly building a better life. also the cafe food all sound so so good i would love to eat there.

Atonement by acedott (9k, t, no warnings)

I know how lonely you must be. All by yourself in that room. Morgana’s words stuck with Gwen long after the enchantment was broken. She recognized the veiled vulnerability in her tone from years as her servant. She hadn’t sounded like that in so long; she’d trusted Gwen with her every thought since they had both come of age. But when she first arrived in Camelot, when they were brought together as mistress and servant, Morgana had not known how much to trust her. Gwen, in turn, had not known how much to trust her new mistress.

my commentary: written by the fabulous lovely wonderful @owengrose, this fic makes me feel So Many Emotions. it's written with such care and purpose, and made me cry when i first read it. read it!!!

On the Risks and Rewards of Being Seen by acedott (8k, g, no warnings)

The year is 1815. Karla Gottlieb, the lady of the Gottlieb estate, rekindles an old friendship with Vanessa Haile, the groundskeeper’s daughter.

my commentary: yes i am putting another one of my friend's fics on here, but listen: risks and rewards is just so, so good. i can't even give further commentary beyond "it's so good" because it's just that good. it's historical, it's carefully-crafted, it's lesbians! what more could you want? go forth and comment.

Of Madness and Mammals by Briarwitched (series, four works, 619k, t-m, no warnings)

this series doesn't have a summary, but more or less: alex, suffering from horrific hallucinations and trauma, is discarded by mi6 and tossed into prison—where he meets yassen once more, and, once again, yassen tries to look out for hunter's son.

my commentary: this is, in my opinion, the best set of works i've read in the alex rider fandom. it's one of the best series i've read period. it is so well-crafted, well-plotted, and well-executed. it's a shame that the fandom isn't larger, because the series deserves more attention.

Beginning Where You Are by TF Grognon (gloss) (15k, t, no warnings)

"There's no such thing as magic," Dove-Gray said. Min snorted and flexed her fingers. "Tell that to the magic bloodthirsty soulsucking sword that lives in my hand."

A disgraced scholar and well-meaning mercenary forge an unlikely partnership.

my commentary: i found this while trawling the sci-fi tag, and honestly, i'm so glad i did, because it's just so good. the worldbuilding and lore and character dynamics and every other bit of it is just. god. so good. also, one of them literally has a bloodthirsty soul-sucking sword in her hand.

You're Dead (and Outta This World) by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (10k, t, no warnings)

“Holy shit!” shouts the EMT at his side. His partner on the other side of the gurney--the other side of the body bag--follows up with a well-deserved holy fuck and stumbles backward over her boots to sag against the back of the open ambulance. “I’m fine, I’m fine, oh God, I’m sorry,” Guillermo babbles. His knees are trembling. He wriggles out of the body bag and hops to his feet, feeling like his legs are a cross between jello and underbaked macaroons, and he repeats his litany of apologies as he bounces from one foot to another to restore circulation. Pain shoots through his joints from the roots of his toes. He ignores it, instead pivoting his head from side to side wildly seeking the detritus of his phone and groceries. “Sir! Sir! You were--sir, please get back here! You were dead!” “Not today, sorry!” -- Or: 3 times Guillermo came back from the dead, and 1 time Nandor was there to see it.

my commentary: this fic preserves the horror-comedy of the show so well, and you can see poor guillermo having a longform breakdown across the fic. it's so fun.

and yet we still bloom by gdgdbaby (110k, e, graphic depictions of violence)

When the Crown Princess of Xian Le, Her Highness Xie Lian, saved a tiny street urchin from falling to her death during the nation's biggest parade, she could never have predicted that same street urchin would eventually become her greatest spymaster. Xie Lian hadn't anticipated the heavens-upending events that followed the drought either, but sometimes these things just happen. OR: Xie Lian and Hua Cheng save their country and save the world.

my commentary: i would say this is easily one of the best tgcf fics, and it fulfils so many of my desires: lesbians, fix its, slow burn, and woldbuilding/lore! i cannot recommend this enough.

rare as the glimmer by Euphorion (24k, e, no warnings)

“Do you—” Quan Yizhen started, and then on the other side of the room Pei Ming started up his jackhammer, so he waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and then said all in a rush, “doyouknowHuaCheng?” Xie Lian blinked. “You know—him?” she asked, in case 'San Lang' was some kind of private name, a secret code just for her. She liked the thought of that. Quan Yizhen shook his head vigorously, his curls bouncing. “No!” he said. “But Yin-ge said you were with him at Home Depot and you left together!” Xie Lian stared at him. One of the employees that had helped her a few weeks ago had been called Yin something, she was pretty sure, but that’s about as far as she could follow what was happening here. “Yizhen, if you don’t know Hua Cheng, why is this… notable?” “He’s famous. Or like. The bad one. Infamous. I thought—” His eyes gleamed. “I thought maybe you fought him.”  + Retired (read: disgraced) famous boxer Xie Lian meets a helpful stranger while at Home Depot attempting to fix her collapsing roof.

commentary: lesbians! modern aus! butch!xie lian! everything about this fic is just *chef's kiss* it makes me lose it every time. the dynamics and writing feels so true to canon, and reading it is just. so so good. i'm trying to come up with more comments and i can't, it's just. so good.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by PaidSubscription (31k, m, no warnings)

“San Lang…are you sure about this? Life on the road, storage units…it’s not glamorous. There’s junk and there’s gross fluids and roaches and raccoons and meth labs, and one time I got lead poisoning and- oh! Another time I accidentally got locked inside a unit with five families and loaded on a truck and then I think technically we were human trafficked-?” “Gege. I’m in this, all the way.”

Scrap Collector’s cancellation is inevitable. Once, Xie Lian was the most popular face in reality TV. After the...incident, Xie Lian is banished to 2am cable, and turns to making a different kind of show: storage hunting. But in his final season, he suddenly acquires a new producer: a Youtube star named San Lang. And San Lang- along with his legion of fans- is determined to save the show. 📺🎥💕

my commentary: this concept is both utterly batshit, and weirdly sensible for the characters? i loved the interspersing of social media format between the prose, and the dynamics between all the characters, especially hualian, are so on-point!

Knowing Only This by CatMouse (dioscuridevotio) (31k, m, no warnings)

Bai Yutong is handling it. Ever since he was fifteen years old and realized that the horrible, sickening, aching feeling he got in his chest whenever he looked at his best friend wasn't a sign of early heart failure but instead a warning of something much worse, he's been handling it perfectly fine. With full maturity and dignity. He's the head of SCI. He's the best cop of his generation. He's the pinnacle of self-control and an expert at compartmentalization. But sometimes—Sometimes Zhan Yao doesn't make it easy. In fact, it's times like these he's convinced Zhan Yao is determined to make his life as difficult as humanly possible.

my commentary: a wild sci fic emerges! poor bai yutong is going through trials and tribulations of being in love, and it's so so fun to read. i laughed and gasped and was on the edge of my seat while reading (well, metaphorically; i was laying in bed). it's just very very good.

codify my wasted youth by lungache (6k, t, no warnings)

“We're way too caught up in the race with time It's getting hard to take it in We're tryin hard to be the first in line Just wanna be a kid again, a kid again”

An Origin Story “We should start a band!” “Holy shit, we should totally start a band!”

my commentary: the fabulous @lungache wrote a marvelous band!au, and i wish i could eat it like a fine dessert. why does it only have ten comments. it deserves so much more. read it. comment on it. now. that is not a suggestion.

The Tiniest Heipaoshi by tehfanglyfish (6k, t, no warnings)

Jiajia was already handling a good number of Professor Shen's lectures and labs, fielding office hour questions, and all of his online correspondence. Why not add a few more responsibilities into the mix? It wasn’t like she needed to sleep. OR The one where Jiajia impersonates the Envoy.

my commentary: i'll admit, i don't go here, so i can't give a fully accurate commentary, but i stumbled across this somehow (perhaps someone else's rec list? who knows) and the few chapters of the novel plus the episode or two of the show i watched gave me just enough knowledge to enjoy this fic. and, anyway, the concept of "exhausted TA pretends to be a terrifying non-human political entity" is, in my opinion, universally appreciable.

I Love You (I Want Us Both To Eat Well) by freakesque (6k, m, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

In which Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan take it upon themselves to make sure Xue Yang eats regularly, and Xue Yang finds out he’s actually not a twink.

my commentary: @xueyang's fanfic which i got to cheer them through writing and then read; it's so so good. it will make you Feel Things and Have Emotions. read it. now.

And the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it by lucientelrunya (39k, m, graphic depictions of violence)

It's him. It’s really him. For a moment Zhang Rishan looks up from his phone again, letting his gaze wander over the pool and then the shoreline behind it. There is still no trace of the merperson, but he had come to save Zhang Rishan. Again. He smiles to himself. So he is still here, still saving drowning people. That means Zhang Rishan can start step two of his plan. To the humans who hire him, Zhang Rishan is a proficient hunter, one of the best to hunt the rare magical creatures, the yaoren. To Ba Ye, Zhang Rishan is a stranger, a poor human he saves from drowning, not a hunter that has been tasked with catching him. Their meeting will change them both and alter the course of both of their lives drastically.

my commentary: am i using this rec list to recommend my friends' writing? perhaps. but also, this fic is just so good! the worldbuilding and dynamics.................so so fun. and it gave me the perfect excuse to dabble in conlangs again. also i regularly think about the mer lore, so. @lucientelrunya did a fabulous job here and i WILL make you hear about it.

Confidence Trick by duty_free (21k, e, creator chose not to use archive warnings)

"Your umma was going to die instead of you," Jae Ho said as one of his guys dragged Hyun Soo out of bed. Another guy stood waiting by the door, his back to them, looking down the corridor and smoking silently. "But it's smarter to kill you." He gestured at Hyun Soo. "So here we are."

my commentary: yes, i'll admit it, i watched the film and then immediately went looking for fics because the ending killed me. this one soothes those wounds at least partly; i like how it keeps the fucked up elements of their relationship while also still having them, well, fall in love trust. and it's such an interesting canon divergence concept, one that i think is executed excellently.

alright, that's everything, for now, anyway! i hope you can find something on this list you're interested in!

[divinekangaroo]

As much as I live for Tommy’s arc in S6, here are a few inconsistencies on the more political side which have constantly bothered me and research has not been able to reconcile. So if anyone has thoughts let me know!

If Mosley created the BUF shortly after his rally in S5, as he said he would in S5 (he gives Tommy a date early 1930), then Mosley couldn’t be sitting in the House of Commons in Parliament in S6 to watch Tommy. Because as a BUF party leader, he would have resigned Labour and therefore not been in the House unless re-elected to his seat running for the BUF. A possible solution is that he delayed creating his party and resigning Labour until just after his S6 E2 celebration (theoretically, he could announce the BUF’s formation and that party was his announcement, but wait to resign Labour until after marrying Diana) - but given how Tommy was sledged and challenged walking into Mosley’s celebration, and his response to the reporter, it appears that Mosley is already well entrenched as the BUF leader. So, ???????? The only logistical solution I can think of is that Mosley did start the BUF on his original S5 date, but actually won his seat back (which didn’t happen in the real world), putting him in place in Parliament to smirk at Tommy taking the floor and creating a heightened threat - because a fascist got elected.

The flow on issue to all of the above: if the BUF was formed in S5, what happened for four years to this plan for Tommy to come across to the BUF as deputy? Now, in S5 that plan had some weight to it because Tommy was still fairly junior as a minister, but Mosley repeats this plan in S6 as still a given—yet Tommy is Labour Party whip by now, which is a position of some standing and influence. Then there is how Tommys response to the reporter in S6 makes it clear he hasn’t been interacting much with Mosley-as-fascist. This one I can’t reconcile with canon (I have attempted to in fanfic).

Tommy’s housing bill, real world parallel the 1936 Social Housing Act? From what I can tell there’s three readings of a Bill. First reading introduces the Bill by title and intent: I think this is the scene we see where Tommy is personally sledged by other ministers but no one actually opposed the Bill to be tabled. Second reading is where the bill is read clause by clause. It’s a formality because all ministers receive the bill for detailed/reading and challenging but it has to be read at parliament for the record. Then there’s an actual committee formed of ministers to challenge, negotiate and reword the clauses word by word in order that they’ll actually approve to pass the motion. Then once everyone agrees, it goes to parliament for the Third and final reading and is in theory passed to become an Act (legislation). This process gets complicated if it’s a personal not party motion, but also gets complicated as a party motion because even in committee the shadow govn might still oppose the Bill at Third reading. So: let’s say we see Tommy at First reading early in S6, when he speaks to Diana late in S6 he still says he’s putting forward a Bill. That means he has yet to get to Third reading. So, how is it at all possible for him to promise to buy the land from her associates using Treasury bonds? Unless he personally bought up a massive amount of Treasury bonds and will buy the land personally (my theory) then make a huge donation to the government.

More an observation: given the length of time to get through committee and to Third reading, my assumption is that Tommy lived in London or at Arrow for several months after Lizzie left him (all the way to Nov to get close to armistice day?) in order to see through his Bill and put his affairs in order, given that Arrow’s demolition and his speech appears to indicate the Bill has been passed and the land can be used. Given we know Jack Nelson was in England for 14 days only, a lot of the questions about timing in S6 and how to get to Nov 11 Armistice Day can be answered by a many-month gap between Jack’s departure and Arrow House’s demolition. Of course, the question there is then, how is it possible Jack Nelson was just taking Michael’s death and the sale of the opium to Alfie without a worry? Hence Miquelon probably happens after the Bill is passed and very close to Arrow House’s demo and Tommy’s ‘disappearance’ - no ability for Jack to take revenge on him personally, and I’d guess Alfie would be doing something in America to avoid repercussions against Tommy’s family and kin.

So the final scene in the House of Commons where Diana walks in as Mosley’s ‘elected representative’ (this fucking show XD), Tommy thought he would be meeting Mosley. Yet his reason for that meeting was to leverage Diana and her associates for the land purchases. He even has a list prepared, which means he didn’t change his intent when it wasn’t Mosley that showed — and yet, the land purchase was an arc unrelated to Mosley because he doesn’t have Diana’s contacts. So my theory was, Tommy really was intending to tell Mosley ‘hey pass this message on to your girlfriend for me and be sure to make it happen because she refused to give me a commitment last time I asked’. (And possibly because at that point, he was too terrified and too enraged and too ashamed to make any effort to contact Diana again.) what i continue to question in this scene is, if Diana and Mosley agreed Diana would come in Mosley’s stead, why Mosley decided to show up anyway: did they plan the sex-offer-and-reject scene to further muck with Tommy, or did Diana not actually come in Mosley’s stead and so Mosley simply walked in to that scene unexpected and decided to leverage it with a dig at both of them, not just Tommy.

—-

item 1 gives me the most grief; I’ve rewatched those scenes trying to work out what happened but seem to be missing something pertinent to make Mosley’s continued presence in parliament yet as publicly known leader of the fascists make sense.

[itgomyway]

https://www.tumblr.com/itgomyway/728826109540581376/is-it-possible-to-send-you-an-ask-or-privately?source=share

Hi, I’m this anon. I hope you are doing well Calypso. [This is gonna be long and very…immature due to my lack of understanding. I am really sorry in advance]

So I have read through your pinned post (and my introduction to non dualism was through consciousnessbaddie’s guide post, so I have read that) and this is what I understood from it: We are consciousness, consciousness can be observed in different forms and when we pay attention to it/become aware of it/observe it, we end up experiencing it and that for us becomes *real* (still an illusion). We are the creators and we are everything: from the TV, celebs, capybaras, sorting hat from hogwarts, all of it. Everything is an illusion, our ego, subconscious, thoughts, doubt, fears are fall mere concepts/forms of consciousness, there is no separation between 3D and 4D. We feel lack because we identify with these illusions instead of our True Self i.e consciousness/I AM. {This is the summary of what my knowledge, what I got}

I am not understanding how *When you observe/pay attention to something, it exists/becomes real*. There was an example of meeting a troll and following it in your How Reality works and What To Do With Experiencing It post, how before you started meet and then to follow it, it didn’t even exist for you. But I’m like….the troll still existed, it was still trolling, even if I wasn’t aware at first. It was still real even though I wasn’t aware, out and about in the world.

I got into law of assumption then non dualism after years of just rolling around in subliminal community, amino reality shifting, law of attraction then loa community on tumblr. The baseline desire for actual freedom and control so that I don’t ever have to experience any suffering as I have before has been a constant even though my self concept and faith in myself was bad, so I just overcomplicated stuff and never truly applied it. Non dualism says I don’t even have to deal with the self concept thing because the mindset is also just an illusion, since I already am everything and everything is an illusion…

But does that mean, some of the painful experiences I have had were not real? The things I read about history was not real? The human suffering, war crimes, movements, none of that were real? Why am I even aware of all this in the first place? Has no one actually been hurt ever? 

I used to be religious and then delved into new agey spirituality a little, it was like this world is a test, God makes you go through suffering because He knows you can handle it, the reason all this has happened is because the end of times are slowly coming along, there a divine reasoning for everything. I used to be scared of following the wrong path and never achieving true spiritual enlightenment… But in non-dualism, there is no higher power, I am the operant. 

Lets take another example of something that I have gone through and a desire of mine related to all this. This world has issues and ofc I don’t want to live in a world like that, I want a world where everything is great. Lets take: misogyny (I am girl, born one and identify as one). So from a young age, I have seen stuff, I have read stuff from history, news, studies and religious books about women and how they have been treated throughout the world. When I was dabbling into spirituality, I came across all these divine femininity coaches who vehemently preach that women/feminine are supposed to submit to men/masculine as the masculine is Solar/God/Supreme Consciousness, only the masculine rises as men are primal leaders and leadership/authority/power is masculine, without men and the masculine part of women’s consciousness women can never be free and reach enlightenment (since women are the earth, men are Heaven). This is Divine Truth, natural order and the P word is just a narrative and not true, its just the weak feminine with their family destroying ideology and waves of the F movement vilifying life giving God (Men) because of few instances of distorted expression (which is somehow for women’s good, everything men have done good bad ugly is just God working for goodness). I kid you not, it exists, thousands of women buy their courses, have groups etc. These coaches and podcasters, I was not aware of them before, but they existed and influence people and have a large following even though I WAS NOT AWARE (I am not screaming, the caps are for emphasis, very sorry as it can come off as me being angry). Then I became aware, saw them, felt even more miserable. So did I create this? Are they not actually real? As in they are just see through holograms, like Joi from Blade Runner 2049? 

I am so scared….is there free will and free beings? Then how do I have all the power? Yk with the whole multiple reality thing, I used to be scared that there will always be a reality where things were worse and people were suffering, that I could also just become aware of it or lose everything since I worry a lot. So are these coaches and all real as in like me, outside of me? If I want these coaches to change their mind and put out statements about their new beliefs (what I want them to think), will THEY do it? The idea of versions never really got in my head because then I’m like..they actually didn’t change, its gives me the whole *My truth, my lens* thing, because I am like if someone said non dualism is not true and its their truth and their lens, well its false (just because they say their their truth and preach it, doesnt mean its right) . If people went through horrific things at the hands of others, did it not truly happen, where they were in control, did they cause it? Is there karma, is their truth to those femininity coaches preaching Jungian theory? 

Do you kind of get what I am trying to say? What am I getting wrong? What is misplaced within my understanding? 

I just…don’t want anyone to suffer, the possibility of it scares me so much. I am scared of this world, I am scared that nothing is actually within my power and I’ll just be in a bubble, unaware, while everything burns down in flames.

If its too much, and you'd like me to clarify, please tell me. Since I am sending it as an anon, if you give a sign, I will text you as soon as I see your reply. Again, I am very sorry for the information overload. I have a lot of anxiety and pain from that particular thing.

-Raina

that was a lot 🧍‍♀️things to remember: existence cannot take place until you are aware of it and the moment youre not aware it doesnt exist. so trolls! im talking mythical creatures and internet trolls. neither exist until youre aware of them and cease to exist once they leave your awareness. so even blocking someone cast them out of your awareness and you cant see their stuff until you decide you want to. nothing existed until you were aware of it because as consciousness, your awareness is what dictates to “you” whats real and whats not. all of the false forms of consciousness don’t actually exist because its only you that exist.

yes. the past history future etc are not real. the only real thing is right now whatever you are aware of in this very moment. be present and happy. as to why you were aware of it im not sure? why are we aware of anything? we are just beings of consciousness under the human condition. stuff happens. its okay and not real. let it be.

as for all of that divine feminine bs i have no say. never heard of anything like that thank god 🙏

theres no free will and there is no separation in reality. it is just you as the operant power. you dont have to do anything. non dualism isnt ab desires or others because they dont actually exist. it is just you :)

[regarding-stories]

Reading the books: "My Youth Romantic Comedy is wrong, as I expected."

What takes 15 days? Correct! Reading the 14 main line novels of "My Youth Romantic Comedy is wrong, as I expected." and the Volume 14.5 short story collection. What a ride...

What I definitely can say: The anime series was extremely faithful to the books. When you stick to the mainline and omit the short stories, you would mostly miss out on one thing. The best thing!

Hachiman Hikigaya's endless inner monologue!!

Good lord, this boy has issues. He's overly in his own head, makes lots of assumptions, is too smart for his own good, and too clueless. I just love it.

Gazing into the abyss with rotten eyes

Writing a series completely or almost completely from the point of view of its protagonist, basically mostly from his stream of consciousness, has of course its own set of challenges. Luckily it's not plain stream of consciousness but also scene setting and descriptions of the other people's actions, and a lot of the fun of the series derives from contrasting Hikki's assumptions and interpretations with your own.

It's also frustrating... (Also, spoilers, I guess.)

And late in the series I was asking myself, if the boy had any connection to his feelings at all. Author Wataru Watari has a habit of hiding the obvious, and so our main characters beat around the bush to the very last. I did get a tad annoying. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

What actually works quite well is the evolutionary change we see in Hachiman over the series. The way he thinks about people changes subtly and continuously. In the beginning he even calls the ever-lovely Yui Yuigahama a "ho" and a "slut" to her face. Hardly charming!! This is one of the moments one has to endure, proof of Hachiman's resentment towards the world after having been ostracized for so long, his hate for "normies." And on the surface, Yui is the uber-normie, the adaptable, the one willing to change for the sake of popularity - something Hachiman cannot abide with. Initially.

It paves the ground, however, for enjoying all the deeper the kindness Hikki displays in his thoughts later on towards Yui, or how highly he thinks of her in the end. (Though not of her lack of book smarts which he confuses for intelligence.)

While we're at it, Hikkitani's eyes gaze upon a few other things. I was remarking in my original post about the anime series how refreshingly low on male gaze it was. Well, our protagonist is male, and he occasionally compares bust sizes... not in the most charming way, either. However, it's neither permanently so nor done unconvincingly. We did enter the mind of a male teen, after all. In reality, we would have been bound to find much worse things there, after all... Of which we get one hint, really. (I will not tell.)

An almost unbroken stream...

What we also get is a lot of Hachiman's thoughts about his boy crush Saika Totsuka. Which is endlessly hilarious in all its bi-confusion. The scenarios unfolding in his mind without filter - I can't tire of them.

However, for the first 11 volumes we are home alone inside the head of our anti-hero. The last three, however, mix things up a bit. Labeled as "Interludes" there are scenes that take place without Hachiman, written from the view of another character. With Volume 14 we also get a multi-installment "Prelude" that features the scene between Yui and Yukino we didn't get a detailed glimpse of at the end of Volume 13.

What's annoying here is the tendency of omitting part of the dialogue and only describing it vaguely. We can infer that Yukino admits her love for Hachiman to Yui - whispered in her ear. Because that's what Yui knew all along but didn't want to hear. And we get Yui admitting the same to Yukino - that she's in love with Hachiman - but again it's not spelled out. We all know. But for some silly reason it's not spelled out.

Another central interlude is earlier when Yui discovers Yukinon's hidden treasure. Behind the stuffed Grue bear Hachiman got her, her hidden image of holding on to him on Splash Mountain. (Which hasn't been quite accurately transcribed into pictures.)

These scenes are necessary to understand everybody's actions for the complex ending. To understand why Yukinoshita seems to reject Hachiman and send him towards Yuigahama. To understand why Yui will in the end ask if it really feels alright and prompts her Hikki's final bid... towards the other girl. And why they all can remain together after. It also reveals Yui's mature side, her high degree of emotional intelligence, and her deep understanding fo and love for others.

We also get a bit into the head of Iroha Isshiki, Yukino and Haruno Yukinoshita, Hayato Hayama, and even Komachi Hikigaya. And a bit more of that if you read the final volume, 14.5. But the star of these scenes will always be Yui, the glue that holds them all together at the end - at great pain.

But in Volume 14 we get maybe the most convincing thing of all, something that I needed after seeing Hikki's indecisiveness for so long. He sums it up like this:

"I wish it had been a simpler kind of feeling. If it had been ordinary love or yearning, then I'm sure I wouldn't have felt so intensely. I wouldn't feel like this only happened once in a lifetime."

This is during Hachiman's confession. He says he wasn't struggling so much with being in love or a crush. What took him so long was figuring out a very complex feeling. (The passage is longer.) He's apparently able to discern between teenager hormones and the fact how well suited he is to be with this particular person, and how important that is to the other - to be seen, understood, and be loved at a deeper level. But the complexity is also discerning it from the love he already feels - like he would for Yui.

Other things you get from the books

One of the best things about the books besides Totsuka fantasies is the ability to read Iroha's terribly revealing rejections to Hachiman, each of them escalating over the previous one, getting ever more like invitations to ask her out just not right now. And her increasing complaints that he doesn't listen at all when she says them.

Also Irohasu's merciless teasing is best paced in the books. And Hachiman's opinion of her. These two would have chemistry for sure. It's just that this particular protagonist was made from the beginning for a particular heroine, and that's what I find so convincing about this series' narrative.

Sadly volume 14.5 only treats us to only one date between Yukino and Hachiman. I was hoping for more, but I take what I get. Even on their one month anniversary they're still all blushing smiles and red ears, but at the same time Yukino is already setting out a common future. Very cute.

If you want a real treat, however, search the internet. There are several anthology volumes filled with content mostly by other authors borrowing the characters - but also the short story "Thus A New Enemy Appears Before Him" from the anthology called "Yukino's Side" written by Wataru Watari himself. It has been translated by fans - I couldn't find a way to buy an actual English translation for any of this. The short story, however, is told from the vantage of Yukino's dad - his perceptions of the three highly intelligent women in his life and how they establish facts for him. The eternal struggle of the future father-in-law is real! The way he finds out that his youngest has a boyfriend had me in stitches. Also, Yukino's mom is on her game the whole time. Basically him mostly watching as his wife, Haruno, and Yukino interact is ... priceless.

[f1-stuff]

Mal I can’t believe you like stony I trusted you sigh…

anon....why you not like stony? 🥺 ((are you a stucky shipper?)) jkjk...unless...?

If you actually wanna know tho...

...it's simply the most compelling, contrasting, fraught, potential-filled relationship ever written/depicted (i wish i was exaggerating).

I'm ngl, I typed this whole thing and then it got deleted. So I might not be able to fully do this a second time smh. But here we go.

Whenever i was bored/in the depths of my stony/marvel obsession, I would make a list in my head of all the reasons Steve and Tony were perfect for one another in case anyone disagreed with me. I don't think I can remember all the reasons, but I'm gonna do my best (this mostly addresses their MCU depictions, since that's what I know best):

Their personalities are so complementary- steve is the more heart-on-his-sleeve, honest, dependable, disciplined, noble, street-smart, but also a bit naive, idealist and tony is the cynical, issues-with-authority, arrogant, sarcastic, hard-outer-shell, booksmart, realist. They're sooo different from one another, but at their core, they both want to make the world a better place and they both place more importance on others' lives over their own, altho their motivations come from diff places. It's hard for them to see that at first though bc they're both so stubborn and judge one another on superficial things. But when they do recognize it, they have so much respect for one another.

The age difference.............is hot! And here's why: you can make a case that either of them is actually older than the other... (iykyk) Tony has been awake & aging longer, but Steve was born in the 40s so... who really knows!?

Height difference.

Sexual experience difference (tony -> playboy, steve -> virgin??)

The banter. The Banter!!!

They both have daddy issues. Shared trauma, but also separate traumas that they can help each other through

And along with the daddy thing is the fact that Steve knew Tony's father?? And that Howard helped create/provide Steve's iconic shield? It factors into the daddy issues and the assumptions they make about one another bc Steve expects Tony to be like Howard and Tony resents Steve for the way Howard idolized Steve/Cap.

Steve's shield is vibranium and Tony's arc reactor is powered by vibranium. Idk, that shit is just poetic.

"Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?" "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist." "I know guys with none of that worth ten of you... The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play - to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you." "I think I would just cut the wire." "Always a way out. You know you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero." "A hero? Like you? You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."

(^NO ONE riles steve or tony up more, and what is that if not sexual tension, i mean...??)

Their nickname game is so strong - Tony is always nicknaming Cap, which is a sign of affection from him (Rhodey, Pep, Happy). Also in the 616 universe, I think they called each other Winghead and Shellhead which ?!?! so cute.

There's a literal universe of comics where steve and a female version of tony/iron man are in love and get married...

"Mr. Rogers, I almost forgot - that suit did nothing for your ass."

Stony has some of the best fan fiction i've EVER read. I want some of those fics inscribed on my tombstone actually (not sorry)

Aaaaand I'm losing steam (especially after typing this a second time lmao). But all of this to say, I used to be a stucky shipper (as evidenced by my ao3 works), but then The Avengers (2012) came out and changed everything for me. There's just something about stony - the equal potential for them to destroy one another/complete one another - that is just... 🤌🏻 There's passion there.

Superhusbands!!! 😍

[aspd-culture]

is it worth it to look into aspd diagnosis? or treatment? ive been questioning it a lot, considering the only person ive ever related to properly about mindset shit has dxed aspd and is convinced i have it. but does diagnosis/treatment really help much? (my roomate currently isnt in therapy, idk if the blog admin is but if anyone reading is maybe they could weigh in?) is it actually worth the hassle and label to get dxed if im pretty good at forcing myself to do shit and act "appropriately" anyway? theres shit other people in my life consider genuine issues, but i dont care myself for it or how they feel about it so itd be a big show in and of itself just making myself get in to see someone. if its not going to do anything for someone treatment resistance id rather just keep on how im going instead.

Oof, tough question. As a disclaimer, I am not a professional and I cannot give medical advice. The following is not in any way an attempt to sway your medical decisions, nor an attempt to discourage anyone from getting help.

I am personally professionally diagnosed and actively in therapy once a week, where I openly discuss my symptoms of ASPD with both my therapist and my psychiatrist.

First off, I definitely think that if someone with ASPD is advising you to look into it, that it is at least worth privately researching. That goes double if you find yourself relating heavily to them in ways you do not relate to prosocials (people without ASPD). Whether or not you have it, and whether or not you decide to seek a diagnosis and/or treatment, understanding this disorder and yourself better are never bad things. If you choose not to seek treatment at this time, knowing what you have or think you have (after a lot of research from many sources!) can lead you to developing safe and healthy coping mechanisms that can avoid you and your loved ones ending up negatively affected by your symptoms.

The question of if it's worth getting diagnosed is a tough one, and again I need to stress this is not medical advice, it is just my opinion. ASPD is a heavily stigmatized and misunderstood diagnosis. If you do not know your providers well, you could end up getting yourself into a situation where a doctor with stigma against ASPD may push you towards emergency treatment that you do not require. They shouldn't, and it's not legal for them to let their bias get in the way of their patients' lives, but it does happen.

If you are going to pursue diagnosis, I strongly advise taking it slowly and only doing so once you have built a strong relationship with your therapist. Mentioning your roommate's diagnosis without in any way implying you relate to their symptoms is a great way to slowly see how they feel about ASPD and make sure you are not entering yourself into an unsafe situation where they may abuse their power.

That said, even if you have a good provider, there are other repercussions to having a diagnosis to think about. The likelihood of adopting children is very low. The likelihood of being able to work in certain fields may be slim to none depending on your area's specific laws about private medical information. In some places, some jobs are allowed to require a full mental health workup from you including your diagnoses. Many of these jobs will not hire someone with ASPD. This is unlikely to affect you at a desk job, but very likely to affect you if you want to work in any caregiving position, or even around animals.

Additionally, if you are ever a defendant in court for any reason, the cards are considerably stacked against you if you are diagnosed with ASPD, even if you did not do anything wrong. The assumption is likely to be that you are guilty and/or a flight risk.

This is definitely not a diagnosis that, in the current state of the world, you want to be open about at work, with landlords, etc. There is little to no social accommodations for ASPD anyway, so keep this diagnosis on a need to know basis if you get it, for your own safety.

Because of all of this, if you are currently able to control your symptoms, you may want to consider if it is worth pursuing diagnosis.

That said, you do not need a dx to get help with symptoms. I honestly think everyone with the privilege to do so should try therapy unless they have particular reasons not to. It has been seriously helpful in my life, as someone with reasonably good control over my symptoms, because it lets me deal with the PTSD that caused the ASPD, and if I really get bothered by a symptom, or someone in my life does and I have nothing else to talk about, it's a safe place to get into that too.

No one ever said you have to tell your therapist everything. It's best to most times, because they are bound by confidentiality, but if you want to go there and only talk about specific things and never bother mentioning certain symptoms, that is an option. In fact, there are many therapists who prefer to work on symptoms directly as opposed to labeling things with diagnoses.

I personally found value in getting diagnosed, even weighed against the risks, because I needed to know what exactly was going on with me and have that confirmed by a professional. If you don't find value in that, there are therapists that agree with you.

Many therapists will have you make goals for therapy, but you can even walk into your intake with those goals and your philosophy on how you want to be helped and find out from day one if that therapist and you are a match in that regard. I would advise anyone looking into therapy to do their own research and find a therapist with good reviews and preferably who deals in the type of therapy you're interested in. I would say that anyone with trauma would likely have better experiences if they only work with trauma/PTSD specialized therapists, as to avoid a lack of trauma informed care.

At the end of the day it's your decision, but I found it can really help the balancing act of pretending to be normal if you have someone who is paid good money to let you unmask, talk openly about your symptoms and feelings on others, and get some advice that might make the whole controlling your symptoms thing easier in ways you didn't expect or think of.

Personally, I think the only way therapy would not help you is if the therapist you talk to is a bad match - and that's coming from someone who swore for many years that I would never go to therapy, and then when I tried it and got a bad match, gave up on it for a year. I'm glad I went back.

[tallochar]

I already reblogged this but I am reblogging again because I had time to think about it and I want to say that I fully agree on the Jason side of things but not on the Drakes.

Back when I first got into batfam comics (late 90s / early 00s) I got into them through Tim's Robin run and given that I knew that the earliest issues were from the 80s, his parents actually did not struck me as neglectful in their introduction as they are often presented in fanon (and possibly canon, would not know about New52 and post canon) today.

Jack was neglectful and, from my point of view, at points abusive afterwards, post his coma, while also loving his son, if expressing it badly, (which makes him way more complex than fanon allows him to be but that's a tangent for another day).

Take the panel that people use to justify the idea that Tim's neglected, the one where he is looking at the postcard his parents sent him.

In our current world, with cellphones and satellites and internet and all sort of ways for people to keep in touch, I can see how that would look callous and neglectful, but when that comic was published, in 1989 aka 34 years ago, all that stuff? Not as available as today.

In fact, a lot of it? Not available at all to most people, even well off ones.

Tim's parents were travelling in places that, very probably, had little to no connection to the normal world.

The ransom demand that was sent to Gotham was a VHS tape sent via postal service (which makes me wonder how long were the Drakes in the Obeah man's hands since that had to get all the way to Gotham but that's a thought for another time).

The Drakes were island hopping, which pretty much meant that they were going to be in a place that very probably had little to no connection to the outside world, but they did take the time to send a postcard (from a place that definitely had postal service but very probably did not have international phone calls available) to their son, letting him know that when they came back (to a place that had to have interntational phone calls available) they would call him.

Then they specified it might not be next week but the week after.

My automatic assumption always was that they specified that because any sort of delay might happen due to weather conditions or equipment malfunctions or whatever, and because if they just said they would call next week Tim might wait for it to happen and get scared if it didn't happen.

I did not read that as "We are too busy to call you and we might put it off" as I have seen in fanon but as "We are going to be unreachable but when we do get back we will call you, though we cannot 100% guarantee when that will happen so do not be worried if it takes longer."

Going off personal experience, my family went off for the summer to a camping site (not rough camping, think verandas, and caravans) about roughly 80 miles from my hometown and we sent postcards home if we wrote to anyone (might have sent letters had I been older) because there was only a few phones at the places' reception (which was 15 - 20 minutes on bike from the area my family's lots were at) and they did cost quite a bit to use (calling home meant calling Italy which meant international phonecall prices).

My mom was with us, my dad commuted over every other week-end and in the time in between we did not hear from him or talk to him at all, and that was late 80s / early 90s, going from Italy to Istria only a couple of hours of car trip away, not away on a distant island an ocean away and cut off from the world.

The Drakes did not just abandon Tim alone at home (and no, Mrs. Mac was not a thing until after Jack Drake emerged from the coma and she was a live-in employee that Tim had to actively work around in order to be Robin, not just someone who showed up a day or a few days a week for a few hours).

Tim was in a boarding school and while a case might be made for that being Not Good now, with our modern understanding of things, at the time, the psychological effects of boarding schools had not been as explored as they are now, at least as far as I know, so the Drakes very probably just thought it was a good place for Tim to be in (the few panels we see of Tim in his boarding school show him telling a little girl how to find her way around after she stopped at his door in a hallway kinda crowded with kids and then him being in his own room, private one, no roommate, not some horrible place).

The Drakes were rich yes, but were also shown actively working to keep that status, it was not an uber rich jet set situation No Matter What We Have Nothing To Worry About with them off on digs as fanon paints it.

They talk / fight about finance stuff relating to the company on the plane to where they will get kidnapped and despite the safari-ish clothes the artist put them in, they are going where they are going for job reasons, not for pleasure.

They are also a couple who, according to Tim and what we see of them, had a marriage on the rocks and were supposed to be trying to work on it.

Should they have dragged Tim all over the globe, stuck him in hotels with private tutors, isolated from his peers, waiting around in hotel rooms all on his own or, if not alone, chaperoned by a nanny or something while his parents did business meetings and then in-between those fought like children (they do the "Tell Jack" / "Tell Janet" thing with their poor PA on the plane)?

How was that any better than placing him in a boarding school where he could keep up his education, interact with his own peers and younger children, and, at least in theory, being followed and looked after by the staff?

In later comics, whem Tim flashbacks to being with them, they are shown taking him to shows with then when they are in town (and reasonably refusing to buy him toys while on an outing that has nothing to do with buying stuff) and are said to have spent time with him.

I do not contest Jack Drake being a bad parent later on, but I do contest the painting of The Drakes, as a whole, as neglectful and I do contest them not loving their son.

They loved Tim. They also, at the same time, were not there for him due to the constraints of the time and their jobs. Later on, Jack, a singular entity, was a bad parent who still loved his kid.

And I think it is really, really important that Tim was loved but that him being loved still did not change the things that happened to him and that Jack loving him did not stop Jack from behaving like he did.

I think it was also important to his character that his family was rich but his parents still had to work to keep that level of rich and that them working is what took them away from him; that then they lost a good chunk of those money when Drake Industries went down, and they had to downgrade somewhat while still being well off and reasonably wealthy given where he lived.

Much like it is important to remember that Jason was loved by his parents and for us to acknowledge and talk about the shitty social situation his parents were in and how the system screwed them over and that it was a tragedy that could have been avoided if the system had been set up differently, I think it is also important to acknowledge that the Drakes loved their kid and did not choose to callously neglect him, but did what they thought was best at the time and with the resources they had and it was not just neither good or enough.

(And then Janet died and was fridged out of the story, written out of the narrative, and Jack got stuck in a coma until they decided to bring him back.)

There's something nastily classist about the treatment of Jason's childhood in canon in comparison to Tim's.

the fact that Jason's loving and dearly missed parents were retconned into abusive and unsympathetic because he grew up in poverty VS. the fact that Tim's parents were established as distant and uninterested to serve the plot from the beginning (and that his father serves as a minor antagonist in his Robin run) is ignored or hand-waived because they had money

it's like.

Wealth and poverty are not sliding scale indicators as to whether or not you're a good person and it feels insane to have to point that out.

(This is a criticism of canon, not fanon. Fanon attachment to Jason having a rough(er) childhood likely stems from a place that isn't thinking poor people are inherently evil)

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || KIND HEARTED

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar error, but other than that n/a

| form : imagine

| word count : 1339

| published : 14 november

| request : could i request an imagine w/ sukuna where itadori’s best friend is just so welcoming of sukuna and tries to include him when they do things? like they’re just hanging out and she goes “sukuna would you like to try this” and she holds up a piece of food to his cheek so sukuna can try it and it just warms the curse’s cold dead heart bc she’s genuinely trying <3

| barista’s notes : i kinda went a little off track with this imagine ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request) and that you have an amazing day! please come back again soon ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ

“You know, I think curses spirits have emotions”

“Mother, what in the world are you talking about? They don’t have feelings, they kill without remorse and try to gain power from their greed”

“Y/N dear, how are curses formed?”

“Negative emotions that results in cursed energy leaking from the bodies of humans”

“See ‘emotions’ is in the sentence dear”

“‘Humans’ mother, you forgot the word ‘humans’ was also in the sentence”

Back then you had no idea what your mother was suggesting or saying at that time. Curses having emotions? What was that all about? You knew from previous missions that some curses were intelligent from being able to take hostages to some being able to talk but other than that you still couldn’t comprehend what she was trying to communicate to you.

“You know the Legend of Sukuna?”

Looking up from your book, you stared at your mother - who was sitting on the opposite end of the room with a cup of tea in her hands - with a somewhat nonchalant but surprised expression on your face wondering why she brought up such a topic that was feared by most jujutsu sorcerers

“You used to tell me about it when I was younger, why are you bringing it up now?” you asked curiously, as you closed your book before gently placing it on your lap.

“We all know that the curse was a human before his fingers became cursed objects, don’t we? How do you think he felt when he was killed?”

You were about to answer her before you shut your mouth completely, not sure on how to even answer that question. How could you? No one knows the whole story to even come to a conclusion for that question, you have to interrupt the story in your own way to make one yourself? Wouldn’t he have been enraged when he was killed, annoyed at the fact that he lost in a way? Or was he unsettled? 

“Personally from my perspective, I think he would have been vexed at the fact that he somewhat lost, you mother?”

“I think the same as you, but I have a small feeling that he was upset for some reason, I’m not sure why though”

                                              ꕥ

You still have that assumption till this day. However, you were a little more open about your mother’s thoughts and took them into account sometimes when you were debating on the subject on your own. However, there was a slight shift in your opinion once Itadori Yuji unexpectedly came into your life.

The first time you meant the boy was when Gojo came back with him carrying him and Fushiguro back to Jujutsu high, confusing you completely on what was going on. For someone who was sent to just retrieve a cursed object, Fushiguro looked completely beat up and that worried you completely on what he had encountered during his time away. However, Gojo just couldn’t read the room.

“Yo Y/N, what is my favourite student doing at a time like this? It’s quite late you know,” he greeted you with a smile, before plopping Fushiguro on the ground.

“Sensei, now’s not the time to play with me, what the hell is going on?” you muttered annoyingly before using reserve curse energy to heal some of Fushiguro’s wounds.

After some time of your playful teacher explaining what was going on, you came to the conclusion that the boy ate the cursed object that Fushiguro was supposed to collect causing him to become Sukuna’s vessel as a consequence.

“So what you’re saying is that Fushiguro failed to get the object in the end,” you commented as you pointed at your close friend, leading to Gojo giving you an ‘okay’ sign telling you that you were technically correct.

“Was that all you got from the whole explanation Y/N?” Fushiguro irritatedly asked, causing you to lightly giggle before apologising to him.

                                              ꕥ

However, after that night, you made the decision to become friends with the teenager as you didn’t want him to feel completely isolated on his situation right now - he did leave everything behind to come to Tokyo - and with everything that was going to happen to him, you wanted him to live a happy life with people surrounding him before his execution after he ate all 20 fingers. What you didn't realise was this friendship would lead to you guys to have a sister and brother type of bond.

You and Itadori did everything together from going on missions together with Nobara and Fushiguro to randomly going out to do some shopping or showing him around Tokyo. As time went on, you decided to fully take in your mother’s opinion. You slowly included Sukuna in some of the activities that both of you would be participating in - usually this would involve you asking for his opinion on something, even if he sometimes gave a rude response.

“Do you think Sukuna is a pork or beef type of guy?” you randomly asked, as you lifted up your chopsticks that held a piece of cooked beef to Itadori’s cheek. “Sukuna, would you like to try this?” you kindly asked, leading to the curse to take a bite of the meat before his mouth disappeared like it didn’t appear in the first place.

“I never really asked, but why are you so kind to Sukuna? I mean he is a curse, after all, ain't sorcerers like you supposed to like, hate them?” Itadori asked in a confused tone, causing you to look up away from the meat that you were cooking to the boy that had asked you that question. 

To be honest, you weren’t so sure how to answer his question, just like the same situation that you were years ago when your mother asked you that question. How could you answer this time around? How could you answer this question now?

“Personally from my perspective, I guess I took in some consideration towards anyone’s emotions,” you casually answered, before going back to the meat that was cooking on the grill, leaving Itadori confused yet somewhat understanding what you were trying to say.

                                             ꕥ

Sukuna on the other hand was confused about what you were trying to interrupt to his annoying vessel as he sat quietly in his Innate Domain. Ever since the beginning of your friendship with Itadori, you had been nothing but kind-hearted toward him making him wonder what your intentions were from the start. However, over time he began to discover that’s what you were naturally. You were naturally just a kind-hearted person that was trying to become acquainted with him. You were generally trying.

It was hard to recall the last time he had someone to confide in - if there was anyone he even confided in at all - you were someone that took his emotions into consideration, you always question his reason for power, greed and destruction, instead of assuming that he was born with his sadistic nature. He still remembers that time you were able to somehow get close to him during his fight with Fushiguro and heal Itadori’s heart with no issues at all - making him intrigued on how powerful your reserve energy was. However, he remembers what you said to him as your hand was placed on top of the wound on his chest.

“Listen, I have no idea what caused you to become the man that you are today, I have no idea what pain you went through before your death 1000 years ago, I have no idea what you are feeling right now and I’ll try my best to understand” you quickly stated just as your curse began to revive his heart, “but right now, there is no way in hell am I going to let you kill Itadori, you got that Sukuna!”

That. That caused his cold empty heart to suddenly become warm.

Your kind-heartedness was the reason he began to reach out to you.

He wanted to cherish that trait of yours.

You were kind-hearted.

[jikookiekosmos]

Use My Best Colors For Your Portrait || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, boyfriend!jungkook/reader, artist!jungkook

➥Summary: After surprising Jungkook with his own studio room for his paintings, he couldn’t be any more over the moon. All’s well and good until he’s struggling to find inspiration...which you happily provide him with. He’s ecstatic to find his muse in you, and painting your portrait brings him so much joy. Things take a turn however, when he suddenly realizes what else he wants to paint.

➥Genre: established relationship, tiny bit of angst if you squint, fluff, smut

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.9k (small drabbles don’t exist for me apparently, oops)

➥Content warnings: most of this at the beginning is just cute fluff domestic times (finally not much angst!), blonde jungkook, jk ties his hair up at some point (my weakness), jk puts paints on the reader, making out, slight hair pulling, cursing, shower sex times, jungkook has a big dick, oral (m. receiving), very slight mouth fucking, dirty talk, fingering (very brief), unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), biting, cumming inside, cute times in the shower, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader and jk are so in love with each other it hurts, also jk saying ‘only for you’ is a thing i started and can’t stop now oops

A/N: hello! This is part of my Only for You (OFY) Drabble series, but it can be read as a stand-alone! Their relationship will make a lot more sense though if you’ve read OFY beforehand. This fic takes place roughly around six months after the events of OFY (so in between that and the dream drabble I also posted).

Once again, thank you to @dntaewithluv​ for her endless support and always giving me feedback, I forever appreciate you and your friendship is more than I could ever ask for 💜

I’ve written a few other drabbles and will list them below, along with a general timeline:

When I Dream of You - ~1 year after OFY

Stay With Me - a few months after the dream drabble

Also, I hope that if you read this, you enjoy it~

➥OFY Spotify Playlist (songs I listened to for inspo)

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn​

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You would do absolutely anything in the world for Jeon Jungkook.

Seeing him happy had to be at the top of your list of favorite things in the world, as it had been for many years as his best friend, and now in the several months since the two of you started dating. Some things just never changed, you guessed.

Which is why you took it upon yourself to change one of the spare rooms in the house you two were renting into a space where he could thrive as the artist he was. Initially, the two of you thought it would be nice to use that space as a work area for you, since your job required you to sometimes do work from home. And for a little while, that’s exactly what you did.

But ever since you found out Jungkook liked to paint – scratch that, he loved to paint, and had been doing so for longer than you thought – the gears started turning in your head.

The current space he was using to create his art was definitely less than ideal. The house had a decent sized garage area, so there was enough room for him to store his supplies and be able to paint without it being too much of an issue. The downside, though, was it was cramped and even though Jungkook said he didn’t mind it, you still couldn’t help the frown from masking your features whenever you saw him huddled up so close to his easel.

For the last few weeks, and with lots of help from internet searches, you’d been slowly converting your space into something like a studio. You didn’t have to worry about Jungkook finding out, either, since he very rarely went into that room seeing as he had no reason to. He respected your privacy the same as you respected his, so this made everything infinitely easier for you in the long run.

The day had finally arrived where you would show the new space to Jungkook. Everything was set up as perfect as you could manage it – at least you hoped so – and you were dying of excitement to show him as soon as possible.

You were also, however, incredibly nervous at the same time. What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if he hated it?

Of course, you knew deep down that there was no way Jungkook could hate anything you ever did, unless it was something horrible, but you worried about everything because that’s just how you were. So, when the two of you were sitting at the dinner table one night, you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat as you listened to Jungkook talk about his newest work.

“I really think you’re gonna like how this one turns out, angel.” Jungkook was offering you a sweet smile as he went to grab another bite of food from his plate. You managed to smile back, despite the hammering of your heart against your chest. He was basically handing you the perfect opening for you to segue the conversation!

“I know I’ll love it, Koo.” You watched as his small smile turned into a full grin, his nose scrunching up in that adorable way that had you falling in love with him all over again every time you saw it.

“Speaking of your paintings,�� you started off, clearing your throat while he swallowed down his food. He looked at you with his undivided attention and it made your heart skip a beat.

Ok let’s be real, every damn thing this man did made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah? What about them?” He twirled more of the noodles around his fork while he waited on your answer.

You gulped. “Wouldn’t you like it if you had more space?”

Jungkook chuckled and placed his fork down, shaking his head as he placed on hand on top of yours that was still resting by your plate. You’d barely touched your food and he noticed.

“Baby,” he started, “as much as I would love to have a bigger space, what I have now is just fine. I know you think it’s stifling my creativity in there, but I’m still creating things and am comfortable.” He squeezed you hand gently before returning to his food.

“I get that you think the garage is fine but what if I told you that- that you could have a bigger workspace.” You finally picked up your fork and were poking around at your own food now, avoiding his gaze. You could feel his stare boring into you regardless, though.

“I mean – yeah, hypothetically I could have more space, but it’s not in the cards for us right now and that’s ok, too. Maybe one day.”

The way he always was optimistic about your future together made you feel warm all over. Jungkook liked to look on the bright side of every situation, and it’s been enough to help you keep your own wits about yourself numerous times now.

But this time you wanted to show him that the future could be closer than he realized.

“Koo, can you come with me real quick? I have something I want to show you.”

You didn’t miss the confused look that flashed across his face for a second before his calm demeanor took over again.

“Of course.” He hopped up from the table, that smile you adored now plastered on his face. “Lead the way.”

“Ok but I also need you to close your eyes.” You reached out to take his hand and were rewarded with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed thoughtfully but did as you asked, closing his eyes and grasping your hand tighter so you could lead him wherever you planned to.

You walked through the house pulling him behind you, feeling your heartbeat quicken with every step to where its pace was almost concerning. Whether or not it was mostly from excitement or nervousness, you weren’t sure.

You finally reached your destination and let go of his hand so you could open the door.

“Keep your eyes closed, ok,” you asked. Jungkook simply nodded and you saw a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no idea what you were about to show him, but knowing you and how much he loved pretty much anything you did, he was sure it’d probably make him happy.

And he couldn’t have been more correct in his assumption.

At the quiet sound of you telling him he could open his eyes he did so, slowly at first, blinking to adjust to the light the now flooded over the both of you. It took him several seconds to register exactly what he was seeing, and when he did he couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare around the room, mouth agape.

Decorating the walls were the paintings he had given you, beautiful works of various sizes and themes. Alongside the far wall was a tall shelf that housed all his supplies (how had you managed to get them past him without him noticing?), and even some new things like paints he’d been eyeing for a while and other tools he hadn’t had a chance to get himself yet.

But in the middle of the room stood his easel and chair, set up in the similar fashion as it had been in the garage. His apron was draped across the back of the chair, and there was even tarp laid out underneath the workspace. You research had paid off because everything was set up in such a way that it created the perfect atmosphere for Jungkook’s creativity to shine through in ways it hadn’t been able to before.

You weren’t aware of this yet, however, because you were still watching Jungkook’s reaction. He still hadn’t said anything, and as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, you started to wonder if this was the right call-

Strong arms were pulling you up from the ground and spinning you around before you could process it, making you squeal with delight as Jungkook twirled you before bringing you back down to pepper kisses all over you face.

“Angel, I can’t believe this, you did all this for me?” He was still holding onto your hips tightly, beaming as he looked down at you. Your nod and giggle was all the confirmation he needed before he pulled you into another kiss, this one slightly more heated than the ones before.

“Do you like it,” you questioned when the both of you pulled away to breathe. Jungkook laughed before taking your face in his hands and brushing his nose along yours.

“Do I like it? Baby, I love it. It’s perfect! Thank you so much.” Another kiss. “I love it and I love you, I love you so fucking much.”

His happiness made your heart soar and you definitely knew that you’d do something like this an infinite amount of times if it meant he’d keep that smile on his face.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

A few weeks passed by and Jungkook had been using his new studio nearly everyday at this point. His creations had been increasing in numbers and he was starting to receive commissions from others thanks to his small online shop he’d set up with your help. He still worked at the bar as his primary job, but he was also grateful to have a hobby on the side that could potentially yield something lucrative.

Of course, Jungkook’s increase in his time spent on his art still didn’t take away from his time with you. If anything, it gave the both of you another way to spend time together, since now there was enough space for you to sit in and observe him paint when you couldn’t before. You often sat quietly and either did some of your own work or engaged in your own hobbies while he painted, and it was always peaceful.

There came a day, though, that you never thought you’d experience: Jungkook had run out of inspiration. He’d hit his first real artist’s block and it was taking a bigger toll on him than he would’ve liked.

You rubbed his shoulders as he sat in front of his easel one night, groaning in frustration about his current work. “It’s not turning out at all like I want it to. I’ve been struggling with finding new inspiration and it clearly shows in whatever this is.” He vaguely gestured to the canvas, prompting you to place a kiss on his cheek as you ran your hand through his pretty blonde hair. You knew that always helped to calm him down and this case was no exception.

Jungkook sighed heavily, turning to place a kiss on your palm that was still lingering around his face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get worked up. It just sucks, you know? I’d been on this really good streak of creating things and now I just…can’t. It’s weird and I don’t like it.” He pouted slightly and the sight made you giggle.

“I know, baby, but you’ll figure something out. You always do.” You placed a kiss on top of his head before you walked around to sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of his hands cradled your waist to steady you.

He was humming thoughtfully as he looked you up and down, your hands now playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled slyly. “You.”

You rolled you eyes before returning the smile. “Ok, what about me? I’m curious.”

His hand was rubbing up and down your side. “Nothing in particular, just usually looking at you can help me with inspiration.”

His confession made you gasp. “Really?”

He nodded and smiled wider. “Really. You inspire me a lot.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before sighing again. “This time though it’s not really working like I’d hoped.”

You watched his eyes close and his brows furrow before an idea popped into your head. “Hey,” you reached down to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you, “It might be a long shot, but: have you ever considered painting portraits?”

He pursed his lips as he thought about it. The simple act made you want to kiss him but now wasn’t the time.

“Honestly…no. I’ve never thought about it before because I usually prefer to paint scenery.”

You searched his eyes as you asked your next question. “Well, if you want to try, maybe you could paint me? Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, maybe it can help spark a new idea or something?”

You watched as his eyes slowly lit up at your suggestion, his face morphing into a smile that you mirrored.

“That’s a great idea! It’s something new and it also includes you, so I already love it.” You chuckled in his lap as he hugged you closer, placing a small kiss on your neck. “Thank you.”

You ran your hands through his hair again before leaning back. “Anything for you. Do you want to start now?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, we can do that. Is there, uh – was there something specific you wanted to wear for it?”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Are you suggesting you want to paint a nude portrait?”

Even though Jungkook knew your body better than you did at this point, your words still managed to make him blush as he groaned. “No, I wasn’t thinking that- not that I’d mind of course just you know, whatever makes you comfortable-”

You laughed at his flustered nature before hopping off his lap. “You’re so cute. I’ll go find something to change into, it shouldn’t take long.”

“R-right,” he stuttered, still clearly somewhat affected by what you had said. You shook your head with amusement as you went to your bedroom to find something to wear. You settled for a purple dress that you knew Jungkook loved, and considering a lot of his paintings involved shades of purple and blue, you figured it would be perfect.

You knew you made the right choice when you stepped back into the room and saw Jungkook’s face when his eyes fell on you. He looked like he’d never seen someone so beautiful (he looked at you like that a lot and it always did something to you) and your lips curled upwards into a smile before you could realize it.

You stopped in the doorway and twirled, giving him a full view of the dress. “Is this ok?”

You already knew the answer, but it was always nice to hear him say it.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s perfect. You can, uh, you can take a seat whenever you’re ready.”

While you were changing, Jungkook had pulled one of the loveseats from the living room into the space so you’d have somewhere to sit or lay while he painted you. The loveseat was a dark blue color and it contrasted beautifully against the color of your dress. You decided to lay on it in a comfortable pose, and you couldn’t help the small giggle you let out at Jungkook’s reaction to your choice.

You had laid an arm behind your head, turning your face so you were looking at him while the rest of your body was sprawled out on the loveseat. One of your legs dangled over the side, making the skirt of your dress hike up somewhat. You were very comfortable, and Jungkook was very happy with your pose.

“Make it pretty, ok,” you joked with him. He smirked at your comment.

“You know I will. I’ll use my best colors, just for you.”

“Wow, I feel special,” you quipped back. You were rewarded with the sound of his beautiful laughter as it echoed off the walls.

“You’re the most special,” he admitted honestly. You gave him a brilliant smile and he felt his heart stutter.

With the way you were looking at him, Jungkook thought that if he didn’t start painting, he may never start. So, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from you so he could find the paints he needed to get started. He tied up his hair, a few of the blonde strands escaped and framed his face but he didn’t seem to mind it too much as he got to work.

Thankfully, since you’d chosen a good position, the process was easier than you thought it would be. You just had to lie there and watch him work, which you happily did. You enjoyed watching his face scrunch up in concentration before relaxing again as he brushed stroke after stroke onto the canvas.

You were so beyond proud of him that it made your heart swell inside your chest.

Jungkook had been painting for a little over half an hour before he announced it was time to take a break. He could paint for hours on end without stopping, but that was when he didn’t have a live subject he was working with. He walked over to you with a bottle of water so you could sip from it without having to disturb your position too much.

You sat up slightly so you could drink, and while you did so, one of your dress straps started falling down your arm. Jungkook immediately went to move it back into place, but as he did, he couldn’t help but stare at the dark contrast of the purple satin against your skin. He thought it was so pretty, and his mind started wandering to how the paint itself might look-

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may have been covered in paint himself, but that didn’t mean he needed to go putting paint on you.

When you were re-situated on the loveseat once more, Jungkook strolled back over to this easel. Unfortunately, since that thought of you covered in paint first took up residence inside his head, he now found it hard to focus on anything else. While he stared at you to try and resume your portrait, he just kept picturing you with painted streaks covering your skin instead.

You must have noticed he was distracted because soon you were calling over to him. “Kook? Is something wrong?”

He gulped and shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong! You’re doing great, baby.”

“Do you need me some other way?”

Such a simple statement and yet it was stirring something inside of him. Asking him if he needed you a certain way ignited that desire to once again paint you and he found himself unable to hold back from asking anymore.

“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to try something.” You were confused when he got up and started walking toward you, only carrying his paint supplies. At first you thought maybe he just wanted to get closer, but he didn’t bring the easel with him.

“What are you wanting to try,” your voice was laced with curiosity. He gave you a shy smile.

“I was just thinking about how pretty it would be,” he looked down at the floor then back up at your face before he continued, “if I used you as a canvas instead.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the request. Jungkook was asking to paint you, not paint you on a portrait, but to paint you. The suggestion intrigued you a lot more than you thought it would, which is ultimately what led to you nodding your agreement. “I think I’d like to try that, too.”

Jungkook’s face broke into such a dazzling smile that excited you to no end. You watched as he pulled his chair close to you, as well as some tarp to place around the area. When he was situated where he wanted to be, he dipped his brush into some of the purple paint on his palette and gently lifted your arm. The feeling of the paint as it brushed along your arm was foreign but not unwelcome. There was something about it that was almost calming.

You were now also recalling all the times you’d told Jungkook how pretty he looked even covered in paint. The pretty colors contrasting with his beautiful, golden skin tone never failed to take your breath away no matter how many times you saw it. You wondered briefly if this is what he was experiencing now as he took his time painting your skin.

He was focusing on your with such intensity and taking great care to only get the paint where he wanted it, so as to not stain certain parts of you or your dress. The sight of his caution made that familiar warmth bloom in your chest again.

He took his time painting beautiful designs along your arm before moving down to paint on your thighs and legs. He was alternating between purple and blue hues now, and the swirling patterns reminded you a lot of his tattoos that you adored. You had spent many nights lying next to him in bed, tracing the lines of his tattoos until you were too sleepy to keep it up. Seeing the patterns against your own skin briefly made you think about if you would ever want to get a tattoo. Before you put too much thought into it, your attention was pulled back to Jungkook who was sitting up now and admiring his work.

The time had passed by much quicker than you anticipated, and it was starting to get dark outside as the light was no longer filtering in through the windows of the room.

He seemed satisfied as he nodded and smiled. “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Stay just like this,” he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. When he returned, he had his coveted polaroid camera in his hands. Jungkook was also big into photography, and every one of his hobbies suited him perfectly in some way.

“Is it ok if I take a photo of you, baby?”

You grinned and nodded, being careful not to move too much from your current position. He snapped the photo and the polaroid was printing immediately after. When he pulled it from the camera, he laid it down on the table next to his easel so it could develop properly.

Jungkook wiped his hands off on his apron before taking it off and drawing his attention back to you. He could stare at you like this all day, but he knew it would probably be best to get you both cleaned up and paint-free.

He offered a hand for you so he could help pull you off the loveseat. When you were up fully, he wrapped his arms around you, careful to not get any of his exposed, paint-covered skin on your dress.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face as his eyes scanned up and down your body to admire his creation. “And as much as I love seeing it, we should probably get this paint off soon. When it dries too much, it can be a bitch to scrub off, and I don’t want that for you.”

You chuckled at that and simply nodded your head. You’d been lying there for nearly 2 hours at this point, so you were pretty tired and ready to just relax for the night.

The two of you hopped into the shower shortly after, helping each other rid your bodies of the remnants of paint covering you both. You always loved taking showers with Jungkook, because whether or not it was a short, regular shower, or one shared after a night of intimacy, these moments were some that you cherished the most and wouldn’t change for the world.

You got lost in the feeling of Jungkook scrubbing shampoo into your hair, letting out soft noises as your eyes slipped closed.

Your noises always threatened to drive Jungkook crazy, and this time was no exception. He couldn’t deny the stirring of his cock as he listened to the little moans slipping from your mouth at such a simple action.

Of course, since he was so close to you, there was no way you didn’t feel him. His cock was hardening against your thigh, and the fact that you were turning him on by not doing much turned you on.

You could feel the wetness start to slip past your folds, but you decided to not make any moves yet, wondering how far you could take this before either of you snapped. You knew that teasing him was one of the quickest ways to get Jungkook riled up.

“Feels so good, Koo,” you shamelessly moaned out as he kept massaging the shampoo into your hair. You heard him let out a small grunt at your deliberate words, feeling him twitch against your thigh as he got harder.

You leaned your head back to give him a better view of your neck, since you knew he loved to mark you up there. His hands were starting to tangle in your hair, but he took care to not pull too hard as he brought his attention back to the task(s) at hand.

He was currently focusing on two things: 1) getting the rest of the shampoo out of your hair, and 2) not fucking you up against the shower wall. Doing the first thing was currently keeping him from acting on the second, but you certainly weren’t helping with that.

Your head lolled around on your neck, your eyes still closed as your sounds got louder. He knew you were messing with him now, so as retaliation he pulled on your hair a little tighter, making you gasp.

“You’re doing this on purpose, angel,” you could hear the dark tone of his voice over the waterfall in the shower clearly, and it just made you more aroused. You chanced opening your eyes to look at him, and the sight you were met with made you moan louder, this time without trying.

Jungkook was staring at you, mouth slightly parted as he let out pants of his own, his blonde, soaked tresses falling in his face and covering his eyes. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he tugged on your hair again, making you reach out to place your hands on his chest.

“You’re teasing me to get me worked up, hm?” All you could do was nod, his husky voice and the feeling of his hand wrapped in your hair making you wetter by the second. There was no use in playing coy any longer. You wanted him, and he wanted you.

The question now was: who would make the first move?

You realized that you wanted to be the one to make the first move, so you did.

“So, what if I am,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your hand around his length and pumping him slowly. His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, fingers now digging into your waist.

“You know what happens when you do that,” Jungkook warned. You absolutely knew what happened, and you definitely wanted it to happen.

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe you should enlighten me.” You teased him as you gently nibbled on his earlobe, increasing your pace as you continued to stroke him. You heard him let out a soft moan against your shoulder as he placed a kiss there.

With no more hesitation, you turned him slightly and sank down to your knees in front of him, delighted by how his cock jerked in your hold when you steadied it with your hand.

Jungkook stared at you wide-eyed as you started moving your hand around his shaft before placing a gentle kiss on his tip, the prettiest groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”

You peeked up at him as you fluttered your eyelashes, knowing that seeing you like this always aroused him beyond belief. You continued moving your hand in slow, languid strokes, and he was almost fully hard now.

He let his head hit the wall behind him, soft curses and praises for you tumbling from his mouth. 

Seeing him like this had to be near the top of the list of your favorite sights to ever witness. And right then is when you figured it’d be the perfect time to surprise him. Without a warning you opened your mouth and took all of him in that you could reach.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate.

“Hey wait what are y- oh my God, fuck.” His loud moan echoed off the walls of the room, causing a fresh wave of arousal to pool between your thighs. You sucked harder as you hollowed out your cheeks, ignoring the way your throat constricted around him.

“Y/N, shit, you feel so good, your mouth- fuck, angel, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jungkook was panting hard above you, eyes shut and brows furrowed, jaw slack as he unabashedly continued to moan at your actions. He was reaching behind him to try and hold something, but the smooth wall had nothing to offer him. His fingers were slipping against the tile, so he gave up and instead settled for clenching and unclenching his fists.

You pulled off him with a pop, a string of saliva left in your wake. You smiled up at him as you kept stroking him, not wanting his pleasure to disappear in the slightest.

“You won’t hurt me, Koo,” you reassured him, earning another groan from the man falling apart under your touch. He twitched in your hold, and you stuck your tongue out again to run it along the underside of his length. 

Jungkook chanced looking down at you, only to look up at the ceiling a moment later while he muttered a strained “holy shit.” 

“C’mon baby, don’t you want to look at me,” you taunted him as your tongue played with the head of his cock, swirling around him. The low groans coming from above you let you know that he enjoyed that a lot.

“Fuck, angel, I-” Jungkook’s sentence died as a moan ripped itself from his throat when you surged back down to take all of him in again. This time you continued moving, feeling the tears in the corners of your eyes but not stopping.

It wasn’t like you’d never sucked him off like this before, seeing as it was one of your favorite activities, after all. But it was a rare occasion where Jungkook would let you take all of him in one go for fear of hurting you. So, you took these chances whenever they presented themselves, and the reward was always, always worth it.

Tears along with the water droplets from the shower were coating your face but you didn’t care. All of your focus was on Jungkook and how he was trying so hard to restrain himself above you. You watched his fists clench and unclench and you could feel himself struggle to keep his hips from moving forward so he didn’t fuck your mouth.

Yeah, you weren’t having that. You wanted him to let go, wanted him to know that it was ok, that you wanted this. You reached out to grab one of his hands and placed it in your hair, relishing in the way his fingers immediately tangled themselves into the wet strands. You pulled your mouth off of him again, but not before letting your tongue drag slowly across every inch of him.

You looked up at him again as you pumped him leisurely, waiting until he brought his gaze down to stare at you, only for him to quickly close his eyes again.

“God, I can’t look at you, like I want to, fuck do I want to, but you look so fucking good like this, I’m not gonna last-”

You always found his stammering to be cute and you didn’t want to torture him too much longer. Deciding that you’d teased him enough, you took all of him into your mouth again, intertwining your fingers with his unoccupied hand and giving it a squeeze. The intimacy of this particular action was always enough to get both of you going, and it had Jungkook’s hips stuttering as you sucked hard.

“Fuck, baby, always take me so good like this. Always so good for me, I love you, fuck,” he was groaning as his head hit the wall behind him again, his hold in your hair tightening the same moment you felt him buck his hips like you’d been wanting all this time.

Unfortunately, for you, whenever Jungkook would fuck your mouth, no matter how much you wanted to sit there and take it without issue, his size always proved to be too big for you to handle and it had you coughing around his length in no time. Which, of course, always made Jungkook stop what he was doing before either of you had the chance to enjoy it much.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Jungkook pulled you up while you kept coughing, brushing the wet strands of hair out of your face and looking at you with worry. You nodded and tried to reassure him, wanting to get back on your knees for him, but he held you in place.

“You don’t want me to continue,” you asked, your voice a little more hoarse than usual thanks to what your throat had just endured.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, angel, it’s not that. If you do keep going, I’ll cum in no time.” He brushed some of the water away from under your eyes, not knowing if it was tears or from the shower. He bent down to place a rough kiss on your lips, such a contrast from how his hands caressed your face.

“I want to be inside of you when that happens,” he murmured against you, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling a whine from you, in turn causing more wetness to gush between your legs. “If you’ll let me, of course.”

You almost laughed. “Koo, you know I’ll let you do anything at this point.”

He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous admission, baby. You sure about that?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Of course I’m sure. I’d let you do anything you want because I trust you. Because I love you,” it was your turn to kiss him this time, and it was filled with so much passion it nearly made him dizzy. Jungkook could never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, of hearing you say that you loved him, of feeling your skin pressed against each other during times like these.

Jungkook was hooked on you and he never wanted to go back to a time where he wasn’t.

You pulled him out of his thoughts as you tugged on some of his hair, earning a delicious sounding grunt from him. You whispered your next snarky comment right by his ear.

“You gonna fuck me now, baby?”

Your bluntness had his cock quickly stirring back to life after it had softened some during your coughing incident. He growled low and dark as he started placing love bites on your collarbone.

“Sure you don’t want me to return the favor first, angel?” He was marking up your skin while he asked this, so you almost didn’t realize what he was asking specifically but then it dawned on you.

“As much I love seeing you with your head between my legs,” you responded, tugging on his hair again, “I’d rather have you fuck me up against this wall.”

He moaned against your collarbone, the action vibrating your skin. He pulled off of you and brought your lips to his in a filthy kiss. “Your wish is my command.”

Jungkook lifted you up then by placing his hands under your ass and you got the message, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up. He turned so your back was against the wall, the only things now holding you up being his strong arms and the smooth tile behind you.

He first plunged two fingers inside you without a warning, making you let out a silent scream. He smirked at the way you clenched around his fingers, scissoring them before pulling them out again. You whined at the loss and he shushed you with a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Had to make sure you’re ready, baby.” He had one arm wrapped around your waist, trapped in between your back and the shower wall. With his now free hand, he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when the tip of his cock was sucked in by your velvety walls.

“Fuck, you already feel so good and I’m barely in yet,” he clenched his jaw as he sank further into you inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out and was filling you up in the best way possible, you clenched around him to tease him further, making him curse.

“Watch it, angel,” he growled. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to not blow it if you keep doing that, and I want you there with me when I do.”

“Then I guess you’d better start moving,” you teased, wrapping your arms more tightly around his neck. You knew what was coming next; Jungkook would put you exactly in your place, just like you wanted. And for that you needed to hold on tight for dear life because that man could rock you like nothing ever had before.

Jungkook grabbed your hips firmly in his hold as he fucked up into you, making sure you were held against the wall and weren’t in danger of falling down as he did so. Despite this, each thrust had you sliding more up the wall until he would bring you back down again. When he found a pace that was he was sure he could resume without either of you getting hurt, he finally let go.

To say you saw stars would be an understatement. Jungkook was fucking you with so much vigor that you weren’t just seeing stars, you were sure you were seeing entire galaxies. Your sounds kept dying out on your tongue because the feeling was so overwhelming and it had your trembling around him in no time.

“Can’t make any sounds when I’m fucking you this good, angel?” Jungkook was taunting you now and quite frankly, he was right, he was fucking you so good that you were finding it hard to say anything. And the mixture of his dirty words with the sweet pet name you adored had you clenching even tighter around him, causing him to groan loudly and grip your waist tighter.

You eventually found your voice again when Jungkook hit a certain spot inside of you, pulling an embarrassingly loud whine from your throat. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, tears almost brimming in your eyes once again at how good he felt.

“Fuck, Jungkook, feels so good, oh my God-” your praises made him twitch inside you as he moved his hands now from your waist to hold you up by cupping your ass, squeezing tightly in time with his thrusts. He was bouncing you up and down on his cock now with his strength alone, and the thought of it made your orgasm start to approach at an alarmingly fast rate.

“I love feeling you so close like this, I love you, so fucking much, shit-” Jungkook cut himself off as threw his head back to get his hair out of his face, careful not to let his balance falter or his grip slip on you. He had to do it though because his hair was keeping him from seeing your face now that you were leaning your head back against the wall, and he couldn’t have that.

“I love you, Jungkook, I’m close, fuck,” you were breathing hard as you couldn’t control your moans any longer, eyes squeezed shut and tears falling from just how much pleasure you were receiving and also how much you loved this man. Jungkook was the man you’d loved for so many years before you were finally able to call him yours. He always took care of you in every aspect of life, and you reciprocated it as best you could. And it was because of this kind of love you two had for each other that made these intimate times all the more meaningful. You were sitting here, back up against a shower wall in the arms of the man you loved while he rearranged your guts, and it was such an emotional experience alongside being a pleasurable one that the tears actually made sense.

Jungkook bit down on your shoulder and pulled you out of your reverie, making you cry out as he muffled his own sounds against your skin. You could tell by his thrusts that he was getting close now, his grunts happening more frequently and louder, echoing off the tiled shower walls. The water had already started to get cold but neither of you cared. Nothing outside of the two of you existed in this moment, and that was exactly how you liked it.

“Touch yourself for me, baby, I’m close, want you to be there with me,” Jungkook breathed out, his grip on your ass harsher now and you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow. You loved it when he marked you up, and even though he always felt slightly bad about it, you knew Jungkook loved seeing the marks, too.

You obeyed his command and reached down to rub your clit, nearly shrieking at the new wave of pleasure that washed over you. The sensations on your clit, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you, the way he was holding you, and all the things he was saying to you was enough to finally push you over the edge.

“Jungkook, I’m cumming, fuck-” you barely had time to utter out your warning before you were cumming hard around his length, your body spasming as he held you through it.

He sped up then, chasing his own high now, the feeling of your walls clenching around him making his eyes roll back. “Fuck, I can feel you, always so perfect for me, I’m close-”

His eyes were closed now so he didn’t see you reach for him. You pulled him closer so you could kiss him, hoping to help him along this way, swallowing down every beautiful sound he was making. “C’mon Koo, cum for me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned out, loud and long as that was the last thing he needed to get him there. His hips stuttered a few more times before you felt him twitch and fill you up, just like you wanted. Because gravity was working against you due to your current position, you could feel some of it dripping out of you despite Jungkook still being inside of you. The feeling made you scrunch up your nose, and the action made Jungkook laugh and mumble out ‘cute’ as he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He pulled out of you carefully before moving you away from the wall so he could set you down on your feet. Your legs were a little wobbly, so he let you brace yourself against him as he helped you clean up.

The water was nearing a very uncomfortable cold temperature, but the both of you would rather endure that than leave the shower without cleaning off completely. After the workout you both had, there was nothing more you wanted than to curl up with each other in the bed.

After helping each other get clean again, and stealing quite a few kisses while doing so, Jungkook helped you out of the shower since you still didn’t trust your legs and dried you off before taking care of himself. Your heart swelled at the sight of him as it always did when he would take care of you like this.

You just hoped that you were taking care of him in all the ways he needed as well. You were certainly trying your best and would continue to do so for the rest of your life.

Once you were both snuggled into bed, him with an arm under you and you with your face nuzzling against his chest, you broke the silence first.

“If that’s what happens when I let you put paint on me, we should do that more often.”

Jungkook, who was tracing invisible patterns on your back in between your shoulder blades, laughed so hard you shook along with him. When he finally calmed down, he was able to answer you. “I totally agree. Although, I don’t think that happened because I painted you. It happened because you-” he booped you on the nose “-teased me, knowing full well what happens when you do.”

You shrugged as best you could with his arms around you. “You love it, though.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Indeed I do.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head and resumed his earlier soothing tracing of patterns on your skin. You rested your cheek against his chest and could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. The combined actions of his hands and the steady thrum of his heartbeat was enough to have slumber calling your name in a matter of minutes.

Jungkook had something more to say, however.

“Hey,” he called gently, making you look up at him with groggy eyes. He smiled at the sight. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me. For being my muse. I’ve got more ideas now about what else to create, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten there without your help.”

You smiled at him before you placed your head down again and shut your eyes once more, breathing deeply. “You would’ve eventually. That’s just how you are. Maybe I sped up the process, but you would’ve done fine.”

“Perhaps,” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. His glance travelled down to look at your nearly sleeping form, laying on him calm and unbothered. Moments like these topped his list of favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

“Goodnight, angel,” he murmured softly, not sure if you were asleep or not yet. You muttered something unintelligible back, but he knew you were telling him goodnight all the same, and it brought a smile to his face.

Jungkook wanted to tackle life with you, the good, the bad, all of it; he wanted to do it with you by his side. He wanted to make sure every day of your life from here on out was filled with happiness and love and everything you deserved in the world, just as you wanted to do the same for him. He knew you’d do anything for him, and he’d do anything for you.

Only for you.

[lady-writes]

Lykon is Hercules and also Odysseus and also the first werewolf and NO AMOUNT OF INST. RACISM WILL STOP ME FROM STANNING.

❤️🤟🏾🤟🏿 POC LOVE MONTH BEGINSSSS  🤟🏿 🤟🏾 ❤️

I know I’m starting late (for shame!) but this write up turned into a BEAST in ways I fully did not expect holy SHIIiiiiit….and in the interest of dealing with my own guilty conscience I’ll post sources later or if asked. BTW there be mild Force Multiplied spoilers with so....

SO LYKON THEN

Third Known Immortal, First Male Immortal, First Black Immortal and the Last of the Ancient Immortals.

I’m making all of my assumptions on Lykon based on the two most solid bits of background that we have for him 1) The Old Guard Through History featurette from Netflix and the few lines and panels that we get of Lykon in the Comics, particularly Issue 2 of Opening Fire and 4 of Force Multiplied.

What feels like forever ago now I dove headfirst into figuring out time and place for all of our Immortal family and getting an idea, primarily at first of how long Andy had truly been alone, but ultimately of where in time our other prehistoric/ancient immortals fell in the history of the world.

Opening Fire gives us the best bit of historical placement that any of the Ancients have.

All of the imagery that the comics give us of Lykon is undeniably Greek in its references.

So Perhaps that helmet in the cave was originally Lykon's, not Andy's (or Hector’s)?

Either way, since the timeline from the featurette actually provides a perfectly clear span of Lykon’s first lifetime, 359-332 BCE, I started there. Regarding Lykon’s first death we can be super specific, Thanks to the fact that the campaigns of Alexander the Great were so well documented we know Ya boi Alex the G and his armies laid siege to Gaza for 2 months. Gaza fell in late October, Alexander took Egypt without a fight at Pelusium in even later October and was in Memphis to be crowned Pharaoh of both kingdoms by November 14th. The trip from Gaza to Memphis had to have taken 3 weeks or less altogether.

Andy says that by a stroke of luck Lykon was only alone for “a couple weeks.” We see Lykon take an arrow through the neck in battle- presumably the wound that killed him. We next see Lykon, alone, in a posture that almost perfectly mimics Andy at the end of Force Multiplied, sitting inside the walls of Gaza. Alexander and his armies have presumably moved on, Lykon was left behind and that is the state that Andy finds him in sometime in between the 24th of October and the 14th of November 332 BCE.

Easter Egg: Despite the fact that Noriko and Andy aren’t supposed to meet in the comics canon for almost 1000 more years after Andy meets Lykon- here the homegirl is tits out and living her best life.

So those are the basic “facts” of the start of Lykon’s immortality….. What’s much more fun though (and 10 times as frustrating) is sussing out his origins and life/culture before he ended up fighting with Alexander.

When I first looked into Lykon’s probable lifespan to make my timeline,I did a bit of cursory looking at the sorts of racial divisions that might have been present in Ancient Greece and the results are deeply inconclusive. The simple fact of the matter is that the sheer weight of  our modern, post Trans Atlantic Chattel Slave Trafficking perspective makes it impossible to get an accurate read on race relations in antiquity. Everything from the ingrained reaction that we have to the word “slave”, to the existing historical analysis that we have of first hand accounts up until approximately 1960-70 is vastly colored by the Eurocentric white supremacist views that have permeated western culture. I was pretty discouraged12345 by that, so I moved on to looking at other things that I could get lost in wikiholes on.

So with that in mind, when I started writing this I did my best to keep a distinctly neutral view of the few first hand accounts that I could find and a certain amount of patience.

That did not last because well… racism makes me mad.

In depth breakdown of the failings of academic documentation and HELLA Lykon thoughts/HCs/crack theories behind ze cut...

Looking for historical records of pre-colonial Africa, especially the many parts of Africa that aren’t North Africa, is a nightmare. Colonialism actively destroyed cultural heritage and history as part of its mission to assimilate people living in their own homelands into the mold of “civilized, moral” western society. Prehistory is even harder, because the accounts that would usually make up the register of prehistoric information are not only missing but have in many cases been actively overwritten. And then as a compounding factor a general lack of investment from academia in this area makes it crazy hard to find reputable resources. So any and all research has to be taken with a grain of salt and checked to see what interest the source might have had in portraying native populations and indigenous cultures as savages, whether backwards and primitive or the equally repugnant humble and noble.

It’s exhausting, considering I do this fandom shit for fun and still have a job and shit. But I like learning and I love cultures so I kept at it.

I made a couple basic assumptions that I think suit the general way the pattern of immortality appears to work. Lykon wouldn’t have been anyone particularly special, not broke, not rich and not necessarily singled out. All of our immortals are average joes amongst their neighbors and compatriots right up until they really aren’t. 

So that meant the first thing I had to try and figure out was where black people were in Greece and how they were treated/ received. Which led to having even more questions to answer because the historical register is a mess and everything is disputed. The answer turned out to be, “BECAUSE TRADE ROUTES,” but I’m getting ahead of myself. 

After a lot of tiresome reading about slavery and several instances of white and rare but equally annoying black nonsense I had my answer…. ish. 

This is a pretty big digression from fandom fun for me by now. It’s more like a challenge has been posed to me by the internet. “Can you make a reasonable reconstruction of the life of one (1) black man in North West Africa in approx. 400 BCE?”

Ultimately there is a Massive Metaphorical Fucking Wall that drops down and effectively closes off the West Center and South African sub continents 3400 BCE and lasts until between 700 and 1100 CE. The 3400 BCE date more or less coincides with the point at which the Sahara reached its current state of desertification and is considered by historians to have been impassable. The historical focus on Egypt reflects this impassable state, for sure. Incidentally, this is also the period where groups start being referred to as civilizations and historical focus shifts from benchmark points for the human race as a whole to achievements that are being attributed to specific cultures. 

It’s a 4,100-4,500 year long black hole in the center of world history.

Everything that happens beyond Egypt and Mediterranean North Africa during that time falls into a deeply frustrating contradictory state where pretty much all historians seem to agree that there were at minimum 10,000 distinct states and kingdoms of both centralized and decentralized societies, but none of them are considered to be of any sort of Empire or Civilization of note. 

We know that by 1500 CE, barring areas that had been abandoned due to poor soil/lack of rainfall/otherwise inhospitable conditions, essentially ALL of Africa was populated and controlled by indigenous groups. The fact that the academic world at large understands this but still has not shifted its focus to filling in this crazy gap in the historical register of the world and its civilizations is a travesty and should be seen as an indelible embarrassment for any and every academic institution that claims to have any kind of historical or anthropological prominence.

Consider the following: We know that all of human life on this planet originated from the African continent. We know that the continent, which is the second largest landmass in the world, was fully settled and populated by 1500. We know that approximately 26.6 million human souls were callously and wantonly transported against their wills from that continent over ~800 years; a rough estimate of the African diasporas population today is almost 1.1 million people (1.3% of the world population). We know that 17.4% of the current global population is made up of the current inhabitants of Africa, the second most populated continent. And we have as a global culture written off 4,000+ years of that continent's history. 

By comparison, the Mediterranean, accounting for approximately 3.88 percent of the current world population, has such a richly investigated history that there are entire academic departments devoted to studying specific pieces of its cultural register. Across 6 rigidly defined eras, spanning only 1,400 years, at multiple universities worldwide, culminating in a wealth of knowledge so inequitably balanced that it turns my stomach as I’m typing this. 

The prehistoric Mediterranean, from an academic standpoint, ends at the 8th century BCE. For West, Central, South, and East Africa, everything before colonization is considered the prehistoric era reaching all the way to 1500 CE, in casual parlance.

It’s yet another atrocity that continues to be done against Africa and all of her people.

I’d be lying to say that I don’t have any skin in the game, I’m a first generation American Nigerian, of Yoruba/Esan ethnicity with immigrant parents. And I’m legit hungry to know more about the place and cultures that comprise my ethnic history.

But more so than that, I am fully aware of the sheer amount of work that I put into my attempts to recreate Andy’s background. I’m aware of the cultural richness that I’ve been able to imbue my research into Quynh with, despite similar but blessedly less severe issues. I’ve read an ungodly amount about 11th century Genoa and Tunisia. I would feel wretched presenting only the confirmed and verified info that I've found on Lykon, as minor a character as he may be. Because the history of west Africa and Africa at large deserves the same respect as Iran, Ukraine, Vietnam, Genoa and the Maghrib.

Lykon is portrayed in the comics as a generic “white” presumably Greek or Macedonian man. I have no idea if there was a reason for casting a black actor in his role in the movie, but even with all of this. I’m glad it shook out this way.

I’m miles away from sweet fandom serotonin now, but in a large way this is wholly the reason why things like TOG POC Love Month need to exist.

I didn’t mean to do this when I placed Lykon at the front of the month or when I sat down to start writing this post almost 7 days ago but it's painfully fitting.

 ALL OF THAT BEING SAID…

This is what I’ve been able to find. 

So, the same as Joe and Quynh and Nile, I based Lykon’s ethnic group on the identity of his actor. Michael Ward is Jamaican, so that meant finding out where the bulk of the enslaved people whose descendants make up the Jamaican population came from in the 17 and 1800’s and where their ancestors were in the 4th century BCE. 

It got murky quick but in the spirit of The Old Guard, (which is 100% just semi-realist superhero fiction anyways) I chose to pick all of the best/most coincidental/ #PoeticCinema origins for Lykon. I did my best to stick to what simply makes sense for this character along with some cultural trivia that screamed out to me as shit that would be cool for Lykon, for my own HCs and also some shits and giggles.

In other words: If history won’t give me proper comprehensive information about cultures of the Horn of/Central/West Africa- I’LL MAKE MY OWN HISTORICAL CANON WITH BLACKJACK AND HOOKERS!!!!

Lykon, born in around 359 BCE, would have probably been descended from the Bafour people of the Neolithic era. According to their oral tradition, they were a settled people living in modern Western Sahara and Mauritania. In terms of physical evidence, it's likely that they were an accidentally Nomadic people gradually migrating southward as the climate got more arid during the late holocene era (3050 BCE).

The Bafour would have moved into the dhars (sandstone cliffs) of Southern Mauritania (now called the Tichitt-Walata and the Tagant cliffs) and establishing the stone settlements of Dhar Tichitt, Dhar Walata, Dhar Nema among others between 2500 BCE and 2000 BCE. At the time of settlement, these would have all been oasis areas. Archaeological testimony supports that they were among the first peoples on the continent to produce stone settlement civilizations. 

As a way of dealing with the relatively catastrophic weather changes that brought them to the dhars, the Bafour developed a strategy of continuously shifting thier building sites away from the growing Sahara along with moving from the stone structures on the cliffs in the wet season to temporary lowland camps close to water sources in the dry season. As far as the social structure was concerned, the dominant theory is that the culture had a stratified social system involving polygamy or living with large amounts of extended family. Due to the increasingly inhospitable environment where fertile land and pasturage were at a premium, as the population grew they developed a relatively large-scale system governing organizations that can be seen as the precursors to the  militarized hierarchical aristocracies that emerged in the same area several hundred years later. During this era, iron smelting and metallurgy started to spread and become common among the West African people (900 BCE). There’s not a conclusive answer as to where this knowledge came from; it was most likely an independent invention.

Dhar Tichitt was what we currently think was the earliest large-scale, complex organized society in West Africa, paving the way for future state formation in Africa. Some of these settlements had massive surrounding walls while others were less fortified but altogether hundreds of stone masonry settlements with clear street layouts have been found. These remnants of sites represent “a great wealth of rather spectacular prehistoric ruins” and “perhaps the most remarkable group of Neolithic settlements in the world” according to some archaeologists. 

Archaeologists have found art depicting and/ or physical evidence of the following:

houses with enclosed, turiform gardens and courtyards (ca 1894-1435 BCE) 

Hoes and fish hooks made of bone

Millet flour and semolina

Reservoirs and dams to manage water from nearby rivers (wadis).

Burial mounds

art of three trotting giraffes 

art of man sitting on an ox with a lasso, bow, or shield

art of man using a throwing weapon on an oryx

art of person holding a basket

art of oxen pulling chariots or carts

iron smelting furnaces and slag heaps

The Bafour might have been the first to domesticate African rice and definitely domesticated millet and sorghum. There is also evidence that their patterns and methods of herding spread into Eastern and Southern Africa and the pastoral cultures that exist today. 

Most importantly to Lykon’s story, the Bafour had a copper-based agro-pastoral society that traded in jewelry and semi-precious stones from distant parts of the Sahara and Sahel, establishing pathways for what would become the Trans-Saharan trade route in the early CE. In response to the new opportunities afforded by north-south diversity in ecosystems across deserts, grasslands, and forests, trade developed with people to the north and south, with the Bafour offering the meat and grain and possibly strong but rudimentary fabrics. Their desert nomad and forest dwelling trade partners would have supplied salt and higher quality fabric along with furs wood and iron respectively  

In the middle of the Neolithic period (~550 BCE) another intense dry spell started the cascading collapse of the Neolithic agro-pastoral system at large, leading to the abandonment of the dhars and the start of a new migration pattern. Dhar Néma, the last built and inhabited of the Neolithic Dhar sites collectively referred to as the Tichitt culture. As the most southeastern-most of these sites, Dhar Nema may have served as a transitory area for the Bafour people /Tichitt Culture as the area Dhar Tichitt started to be abandoned due to the people trying to get away from the continually encroaching desert. Additionally there was a dominant theory that most scholars are beginning to challenge due to a clear bias, that the Bafour people were conquered by an unspecified Berber population from the north. Those Bafour who continually fled southward would be the ancestors of the Soninke people who are most commonly associated with the Dhars and Tichitt culture. This transition from the Bafour to Soninke people and the Tichitt culture that they straddle is one of the many points left unclear by a lack of historical attention.

Regardless, Dhar Nema’s existence and placement point directly to the last stop on the historical journey that has been decoding Lykon’s origin’s. Dhar Néma’s governmental and physical organization was also a likely precursor to the proto-egalitarian civilization of Djenne-Djenno in Mali, which came into being around 250 BCE, and is still populated now.   The Soninke people are an offshoot of the larger Mande ethnic group that is the parent culture for no less than 16 ethnic groups on the Gold Coast area of West Africa. 

The Soninke are largely known for being the founders of Djenne-Djenno in 250 BCE, but for our purposes we’d be looking at the Soninke people living at and around Dhar Nema in the specific area of Bou Khzama. This is now the twilight of the era of the Tichitt culture, which is considered to have ended in 200 BCE, but before the existence of Djenne-Djenno. 

There are two major milestones in this period that would be relevant to Lykon’s life. First, with a century of environmental migration starting in around 400 BCE we get the first recorded contact between West Africa and the Mediterranean, specifically the culture of Carthage, and mutually beneficial trade begins. This trade involved the export of gold, cotton, metal, and leather in exchange for copper, horses, salt, textiles, and beads. The second milestone is the emergence of the Soninke people themselves. By the 1st millennium BCE, environmental migration has caused the Bafour people to fade from the historical register and the Mandé ethnic group is beginning to make itself known. Beginning in 1000 BCE, the early stages of a massive migration referred to as the Bantu Expansion begins. As various people groups migrated away from the Sahara to the east as well as down the West African coast they began to break into groups that would form new ethnic groups. Two of those groups were the Mandé and the Akan people of Ghana.

The Akan people made up the vast majority of indigenous Africans shipped to Jamaica as slaves so this is more or less where I decided to place Lykon. That was the final end of that starting thread that I started this whole thing by pulling on. 

The Mandé languages belong to a divergent branch of the Niger–Congo family, and are divided into two primary groups: East Mandé and West Mandé. The Mandé peoples and the Akan people share a long history of trade and many similar cultural elements.

It's likely that the Mandé and Akan people intermixed, considering they were culturally coming from the same ancestral groups, but there's nothing to actually verify that.

However the Mandé people and their subgroups have some fantastically appropriate qualities as far as Lykon’s background is concerned.

The Mandé are noted as having been among the first on the continent to produce woven textiles (by a process known as strip-weaving), and as well as the founders of the Ghana Empire and Mali Empire, as well as being responsible for the expansion of the Songhai Empire across West Africa. Historically, fabric has been used as a form of money in African cultures, a fact that European colonizers took advantage of to devastating effect, so it's not a reach to assume that this tradition goes back to the era of Trans-Saharan trade. It actually might have formed the basis of a valuation system for the use of fabric as money at some point. 

I took note of the Mandé tradition of fabric arts, specifically because I’ve seen the HC previously that Lykon may have come from a family of weavers. The blue strip of cloth wound around Lykon’s spear (which can be seen in the historical featurette as well as Lykon’s promotional images from that feature) is distinctly reminiscent of adire, an indigo resist dyeing art that was wildly valuable, generally done in a familial setting and is still produced today. The earliest existing piece of adire is a men's hat from around 1100 CE but oral accounts and common sense indicate that the method is considerably older. Notably, the weaving tradition was seen as exclusively masculine work while the dying of fabrics was exclusively feminine.

In addition to this bit of headcanon influenced placement the fact that Lykon is born during this particular transitory phase makes the Soninke subgroup of the Mandé people a very interesting choice specifically due to the existence of a specialized ethnic group of note in the Soninke Wangara.

Across the Mandé diaspora there is a notable tiered system of socio economic classes: Nobles, Farmer/Vassals, and skilled professionals. In the Soninke culture there is a fourth particular class that in Lykon’s time would have been treated as a cross between the noble and professional classes: the Wangara traders.

The Soninke Wangara eventually operated all throughout West Africa Sahel-Sudan fostering regionally organized mercantile trade networks and were referred to later as "[one who] engages in trade and travels from one horizon to another.” But originally, they were known as both the vendors and the secret keepers of the gold veins that would eventually make the Gold Coast famous in the medieval period on account of “the great quantities and good quality of that metal.” 

The Wangara were noted for their honesty and industry and were instrumental in setting the basis for what would become the Ghana, Mali, and Songhai Empires in the coming centuries. In particular, Herodotus tells of silent trade between Carthage and unspecified regions to its south. If true, trade with Carthage possibly started as early as the 6th century BCE. In Lykon’s time they made contact with almost all West African people groups at the time and would have been facilitators of trade between them. Long distance trade contributed to the development of an ethos of migration among the Soninke, arguably making them the most traveled people of the whole continent.

The decline of Carthage after the Punic Wars would have left the Wangara in need of new business partners since Carthage kept their source of African gold secret- a vital tradition for the Wangara to protect their monopoly.  By the time Lykon was an adult, the Wangara gold traders would be operating out of the progenitor city of Jenne, controlling the gold trade between the goldfields, their African neighbors to the south and east and the outside world at large. The geographic location of the Soninke/Wangara/ Mandé people at this time, between the Sahara and the Sahel, would place them in an ideal position for access to trade routes from their ecological zones into the West African forest, East African plains/grasslands and the North African desert and beyond in an considerable advancement of the same trade network that their ancestors developed.

In the same sense that the Soninke Wangara were known as the protectors and purveyors of one of the most valuable natural resources of the area- the Wangara were also referred to as courtiers to nobility. Based on that description, it seemed likely to me that there may be some element of martial training that these people may have also undergone to make them a more formidable or even simply an equal threat to those who may present a threat to the ruling class or the trading ability of the Soninke people.  

In the same way that Andy’s immediate associations are to horses, and Quynh’s are to water and the color red, Lykon’s could be to trade and gold, along with perhaps weaving, iron smelting or the indigo trade.

Lykon would have been a kid who grew up in a large family of pastoral weavers and dyers or possibly crafters of some other type. Perhaps his family had a history of contributing to the work of the Wangara class or maybe Lykon opted to become a part of that tradition in an attempt to see more of the world outside of his settlement and its way of life. The Lykon who we briefly see, seems to be quite the adventurous type after all. He probably trained as a caravan guard to protect his people’s products and wealth. As he begins to travel and experience a more multicultural life, maybe he decided to explore further away from his home. 

Depending on his family, he might have been one of too many sons or maybe he simply wanted to get away from the place he grew up and realized that becoming a trader was an ideal way to do that.

It’s not unlikely that he might have been sent to a trading outpost on the Egyptian coast and decided to join up with Alexander’s army to see more of the world. He’d be more than equipped by his culture for long journeys on foot or riding.

Maybe his caravan was ambushed and the survivors of the attack were sold as fighters along with the goods. Maybe he got arrested or into debt over the course of his travels and was press ganged into military service. 

One way or another he ends up in a hoplite citizen army. The general makeup of such and army would be people not at all dissimilar from Lykon himself:  Merchants, farmers, and artisans, but most of those people would be untrained. We don’t know what type of member of the guard Lykon was a part of: the experienced fighters or the “I don't know how I got here but it was Not My Intention.��� Regardless we do know that Lykon was on the March with Alexander the Great.

That finally brings us back to Lykon in the Mediterranean where Andy finds him.

As far as Lykon possibly settling in Greece, particularly with regard to the way he’d be received by Greek culture, he’d be treated perfectly normal so far as I can tell. Ancient Greeks didn’t see in black and white as we do. They saw Free or Servile, and were relatively free of melanin-based prejudice. The Greeks also thought that the African continent more or less ended after the Sahara.

And the catchall term they used for every dark person who walked outta the Sahara at this point in history was “Aethiopians".

After Alexander the Great dies in 323 BCE there’s an increased knowledge among Greek people of Nubia (in modern Sudan), Egypt’s neighboring kingdom along the lower Nile. Cosmopolitan metropolises, including Alexandria in the Nile Delta, and others on the East Coast and Horn of Africa become centers where significant Greek and African populations are living together. Prior to that though the only contact that the Greeks had with “Aethiopians" was as traders. And the thing is there is hard evidence that the ancient Greeks REALLY FUCKING LOVED BLACK PEOPLE.

From Jstor

Think of teenagers plastering their walls with boy bands…. Or even just the way people always marvel a little when a distinct new accent joins a group of people speaking. Except obviously you can’t shut your skin color up so everyone will stop looking at you funny. Essentially, the Greeks made first contact with New PoC for the first time in their history and completely lost their chill.

It is worth noting that the Greek and eventually Roman fascination with black people did get REAL fucked up, particularly when it began to form the backbone of the system that became the infamous Trans Atlantic Murder Machine Slave Trade. Continental slave trade of Africans within Africa became the exchange of slaves from different nations for the novelty of seeing/being served by people who looked different. This happened in BOTH directions for a time. Using black bodies as currency for goods on the Mediterranean market became a thing. It is VERY important to note that the Trans-Saharan Slave Trade is nothing like the Indian (Ocean)/Atlantic Slave Trade (which is distinct from the Trans Atlantic Slave Trade) that came into being in the 1000’s and lasted into the 1400’s. But it would also be disingenuous to say that it didn’t contribute. 

By 5 CE the Trans-Saharan trade route that Lykon would have traveled ~300 years earlier had expanded to account for the trade of black slaves to Rome directly from West Africa. Black people were expensive and fancy ~exotic household slaves who would have worked off an indenture and then regained their freedom and assimilated into the population. This was the expectation of slavery, more or less world wide up until it became necessary to invent racism to ensure the perpetual existence of free labor.  One of the more well-known examples of this is the mixing of the East, South and Central Africans into the people of the Iberian peninsula.

But anyways THAT’S NOT HAPPENING YET!!!!

So when Merchant/Trader Lykon comes to town, buys wares, sells wares and pays proper taxes, no one has a problem with him. Even if Lykon entered Greece as a slave or prisoner it’s far more likely that he was treated better than his “Greek looking” compatriots than worse by nature of simply looking different. 

For the geek in all of us I did far too much looking at the gear Lykon would have had, because Michael Ward’s choice (I hope) to play Lykon as a reckless dude who’s too cool for a shirt is a delight for my eyes but also like…. The man was a soldier at one point, he’d know not to go into battle with all that exposed skin. 

Looking at his armor and arms when we see him with the army, he’s almost certainly a Hoplite soldier and an elite one at that.

(Note the decorated shield, chest armor, and helm. Some money went into that gear at the very least)

If Lykon was the kind of guy who loved a good fight it's entirely possible that he worked to become a Hetairoi, one of the elite cavalry that Alexander himself chose to ride with in battle. It's equally likely that after a few battles where Lykon performed better than average he might have gotten noticed and drafted into the ranks of the _. But what we see in the comics is a man who looks to have  plenty of experience and some rather nice armor.

The hoplites were primarily represented by free citizens – propertied farmers and artisans – who were generally able to afford a linen armour along with a spear and short sword. The wealthier members of this group might be wearing bronze armour instead but would otherwise be outfitted the same. Comics Lykon is armed very similarly to the Hetairoi heavy infantry who wielded weapons like the single-ended spear called a xyston, meant to be used from horseback along with a kopis, xiphos, and secondary standard issue hoplite spear called the dory. They got ya boi armed up! So even though we never see Lykon on horseback, it's a fair guess he was part of that upper echelon of soldiers. 

For my personal headcanons, I like to think that Lykon has a perfectly comfortable life as a merchant and when the time comes to go to war for Alexander, not only is he pumped to go (he’s only been training his whole life right? And he’ll get to see so much MORE of the world!!) but he has the funds for the sweet armor we see in the comic. Once his CO’s see that this guy is actually TRAINED and CAN RIDE??? Bye-bye Hoplite, Hello Hetairoi, it's time for some ~Destiny. Our dude Lykon is tearing it up as heavy infantry in Alexander’s army one fateful October day when he takes an arrow to the throat and dies, changing his life 5EVA

A note on the movie continuity- The scene where Lykon dies in the movie is meant to be happening sometime in the 1200’s in central Asia, based on shooting notes and the like…. That directly contradicts the Netflix featurette which is again weirdly precise about Lykon in particular. The 1200’s date for his final death splits the difference between the featurette and the comic which states that Lykon dies in the 1400’s during the various wars between Italian city states. This particular continuity snarl introduces yet another fun potential bump in the guard’s history: Joe and Nicky and Lykon…. Did they ever meet? Did NicoJoe dream of Lykon as they made their way to Andromaquynh(kon) only to have him suddenly disappear from their minds? Did NicoJoe dream of Andy and Quynh’s terror as their brother in arms / lover bled out inexplicably and wake up to clutch each other close terrified by what they had witnessed and praying for the first time in a century (or more perhaps) that somehow this dream was less true than all the others they had dreamed thus far?

Just food for thought

Speaking of which, all that stuff above? It’s all reasonable and cool I guess, but here’s some Mary Sue Ass shit for Lykon because WHY SHOULDN’T HE BE A FUCKING DEMI GOD?!?!

There are whole bunch of semi-mythical Greeks who could arguably been described as black and therefore could be based on myth, legend or hearsay about Lykon.

Odysseus, Achilles, and Memnon are all in varying places referred to as black/wooly haired/or darkened. Memnon in particular is supposedly from an Ethiopian kingdom

Herakles/Hercules is depicted as black in art dated to 510 BCE. Various legends and myths about Herakles can be attributed to translations of earlier Egyptian myths. If Lykon got up to any famous fighting exploits perhaps he may have been called Herakles reborn? I would personally love to see Andy and Quynh scoffing about this

In accounts of the battles at Troy there are 3 different Lycon’s who get killed in battle. Not subtle my dude…

Also Lycon: one of the leaders of the satyrs who joined the army of Dionysus in his campaign against India because why be a person if you can have horns instead?!

For any Lykuynh(???) lovers out there: please take this lovely myth about Omphale to go along with the Herakles tidbit. She became the mistress of the hero Heracles for the period of a year during which he was required to pay her via servitude, which writers and artists obviously wasted no time in exploring sexual roles and erotic themes. The entire thing reads like Lykon may have lost a bet, and I would LOVE to read that story.

Across West Africa, forges are considered to be female, and the act of smelting iron is equated to the gestation period. Thus the male smith is often considered the “husband of the forge.” Though women are involved in many aspects of the metallurgic process, they almost never work the forge. Interesting given the fact that Quynh could also be a student of metallurgy 

And speaking of myth theres of course Lyacon the fucking OG WEREWOLF and Lycon the actual guy who was a king of a place somewhere or smthg. I have no idea about the timing for any king shit and I would never accuse the Best Bean Lykon of cannibalism BUT the fact that there are not 10,000 stories about Lykon in canon being a werewolf and doing only god knows what??? A CRIME

I also like to think that maybe there’s an alternate universe where somehow Lykon staying alive stopped the whole damn Trans-Atlantic slave trade and chattel slavery from happening. Especially because the timeline given for his death in the comics and the unconfirmed Asiatic battle, are RIGHT as slavery in Africa is about to transition into its final and worst phase. Maybe if he he’d been alive between the 1100’s and the 1500’s he would have put his foot down and dragged his team to go burn every seafaring vessel that the Dutch East India tea freaks, Muslim slavers, and Portugal had between them and helped East Africa get some forbidden cities shit going on. #Wakanda

(Which of course raises this question: how did Nile’s parents meet, and where did Nile grow up in this alternate universe where her ancestors weren’t kidnapped and forced to build white people’s wealth in North America?)

And a final question that truly keeps popping into my head:

Do the Guard get new people at the moment of massive culture paradigm shifts? It’s got to be that or near to minor revolutions in travel. All of our immortals match both of those respective categories and I am inordinately fond of the travel theory if for no other reason than to think about SPACE PIRATE! Nile.

So that is my sojourn into history and the full story of the life that Lykon might have lived. Go forth and make canon for the homie cuz God, knows Nile could use a black immortal friend.