#but in turn made it so that when trying to add nuance back into it it can risk coming across as the opposite of what it was trying to say

[korkorali]

#I have Ideas(TM) on how I would want to handle the island scene #which in turn bleed into 'ideas on how I'd remake the show if I could'

#okay wait bestie where's your tangent analysis @justaboot

And that's all you needed to say in order to get me into full tangent mode so buckle up, I have no idea where this is gonna go!

(Posted as its own thing and put under a cut because hoo boy it is long- seriously, open at your own risk)

First thing's first- I'd make it so that Della's attempts to evade the pursuing Moonlander ship lead to both the Sunchaser and the Moonlander crashing on the deserted island. This would be so that the 'comedy' aspect necessary could be largely carried by a third party -a very confused Moonlander who is pretty sure that none of this is healthy- which would allow for the main cast to focus less on having to become comic relief. And I'd also have it happen for one other reason (which will become quite relevant later).

But the biggest thing I think about the island scene is that it had a lot that it wanted to do (show the twins interacting again for the first time in ten years, show that Della really isn't as okay as she'd like to admit, wrap up Louie's arc, allow the kids to interact with Donald again for the first time since the beginning part of the season), and didn't really have a bunch of time to do it in.

So to change that, I would make the deserted island scene it's own full episode. (Which would subsequently mean changing Moonvasion from a two-episode finale into a final arc- which would still really start with Timephoon).

It would allow for it to cover a lot more, go into more depth with the characters and their interactions with each other, starting with...

Della and Donald's first interaction with each other to be fighting. That'd be a very big part of what I'd want the episode to be about.

They're both exhausted, traumatized, angry, relieved, scared- they've got a whole cocktail of emotions brewing inside of them and they're just so tired of it all.

The episode before The Island would basically end with Della and the kids crashing onto the island and having Donald enter screen. It'd also end with Scrooge and the gang having 'beaten' Lunaris (thanks in large part to Fethry and Gladstone having shown up just in time), which, again, will become relevant later.

The episode would start in largely the same way as the island scene but a little more drawn out, with Donald and Della just sort of stuck in a 'is this actually real? Did I die and just not notice it?' trance before the kids snap them out of it.

And once they do, once they finally approach each other for the first time in ten years and the kids are all waiting with baited breath to see what'll happen... they don't fight.

Not at first.

They also don't cry and hug each other either. They just- greet each other. Awkwardly. Stilted, like they've forgotten how to act around each other. (And they haven't, but they're so scared, they don't want to ruin things and everything is going wrong and they don't want this to go wrong and after so long apart are they even the same people anymore?) So they to be polite, like 'How are you? What's happening? Why are you here? It's good to see you, how's life been?'

And of course the kids would think it's weird- they're twins, and yet they're acting like complete strangers around each other!

But as the conversation progressed, things would start to get more heated. 'Why weren't you around? Why didn't you try to find me? Why'd you leave Scrooge? Why didn't you send any messages? Why didn't you tell the kids about me?' Before they knew it, it'd turn into a full-on screaming match, ten years of pain and regret and loneliness and 'why did you leave?' all forcing it's way to the forefront, unable to be held back because of all the pain running through everybody's minds right now.

And the big difference comes in in that they wouldn't stop fighting. They wouldn't suddenly go 'I missed you' and have everything be okay. The kids would step in and pull the two of them away from each other, so that they wouldn't end up fighting while they've got a hostage (the Moonlander, whom the kids -namely Webby- would've tied up in the background during the whole fight) to talk to.

The moonlander explains what's happening as they're interrogated, and the kids start making plans to get off the rock. Della immediately objects, saying that they need to stay put, and looks to Donald for backup (after all, she knows her brother, right? After everything they've been through, and everything the kids have said about him, she knows that he'll probably advocate for the kids staying out of danger, too).

And Donald instead sides with the kids (which hammers home that Donald has indeed changed to Della). They need to get off the island and go help. And immediately they start making plans to fix the Sunchaser to fly out.

To which Della still objects. Much more heartily, this time. Everyone's a little concerned at the heat to her objections, which she brushes off by insisting that everything's fine, that they're all fine here, that Scrooge has it handled, that they're safer here, that they can't leave her behind, that all their needs will be taken care of, that all these thoughts of bravado and being able to leave in the first place are just going to hurt and they should just give up now, that they're obviously just delirious from lack of oxygen and should change out their Oxy-Chew, she has some spares in her pocket that they can use if they...

Oh, no.

And everything would come crashing down around Della in that moment. It'd click in a really ugly way for her- she's not on the moon anymore. She isn't.

And yet, she's still acting like she is. And has been the entire time- she stopped acting like 'Della' and she doesn't know when, but she realizes that every time something's happened since she came back she's first reverted to 'Moon Della' problem-solving than anything else.

And that'd be overwhelming in and of itself, and including the fact that the sun is glaring down overhead and the kids are staring at her like she's grown a second head (like she's been afraid of ever since coming back) the fact that she doesn't actually know if Scrooge will be alright or not and that's killing her inside (it would've been so much nicer if she could've grabbed him and loaded him on the Sunchaser as well) the fact that Donald is staring at her with that concerned look that she was sure she'd never see again (it's been so, so long)- it's all too much. She needs space.

So she runs away. Deeper into the deserted island, despite the cries of the rest of her family.

The episode would refrain from following Della in order to stick around with the kids and Donald. They all have some stuff to talk about after all, despite all of them being very worried about Della.

And they'd talk (I think they should all get to air out their grievances at their names at least a little), and hug, and try to decide what the next course of action will be. Most of them want to try and find Della, but Donald assures them that she'll be fine, and it'd be better to figure out how to get off this rock before they 'go and try to kidnap her to get her outta here' (He's still a little upset with her).

That being said, at least at the start all of them head out to go search for her as a group (and have a talk about how 'She's a lot different than you made her out to be'/'I don't think she's the same Della who left you behind'/'She really missed you'/'And I know you missed her too')

One by one, after they've said their piece to Donald (most of which are some variation of 'give her a break, she's been through a lot'), each member of the search party would fall back to the beach. They aren't getting anywhere, they need to get work, and they need to trust that Della will come back to them.

In the end it'd just be Donald and Louie, and Donald would mention something about how if Louie has something he'd like to say about the subject, it's okay if he wants to share it. Donald would be happy to hear it, even if it kinda hurts.

And Louie just shrugs and asks Donald what he would've said to them if he'd been there when Della returned. What he would've said if they'd had issues with her coming back and didn't know how to handle it.

Donald would say that he would've assured them that they didn't have to forgive her if they didn't want to. That just because she came back, just because she's sorry, just because she didn't want to hurt them, doesn't mean she didn't. And they're not required to forgive her- even if they do want her to be a part of their life.

And Louie would just say 'Then right back at ya. If you don't wanna forgive her, then don't. If you do wanna forgive her, then do. If it's more complicated than that, then let it be complicated.'

After that (and maybe a little bit of Donald hiding his tears) Donald would say that he should get back to the others to make sure they hadn't killed the hostage, but that he trusted Louie, and if he wanted to keep searching then he should.

Which Louie would do- and only a little bit after Donald left, he'd find Della. Alone in a small oasis, on her back, staring up into the sky.

Now going way back for a moment before continuing (you remember how I said this would bleed into 'how I'd change the show in entirety?'), something that'd be vaguely important to this scene would be a change to Glomtales.

Specifically (a 'canon change' that I've seen talked about on the internet before and gone 'ooh yes gimme' to) that Della didn't head out with the rest of the family on the adventure. Instead, she stayed behind with Louie while he was grounded- which would change a lot of the issues with Glomtales in my humble opinion.

It'd make it more interesting because it'd really hammer home just how alike Louie and Della are. Mainly by having her thwart his every escape attempt by always being one step ahead of him (because she knows the mansion, knows how she would attempt to escape, and knows the order she'd most likely do it in).

It'd also allow for them to have a talk in the Glomtales episode as well- because Louie pointed out in Timephoon that 'Hey, you did the exact same thing, you know' and it would have been really really great to have had Della be able to respond 'Yeah, I did. Look at how that turned out, kiddo.'

She would've sat him down around the end and explained why she was so insistent that he needs to not keep messing around in the way he has been (because it reminds her way too much of how her childhood was and that didn't exactly lead to a healthy outcome), definitely also accidentally pull back the curtain just a tad on the fact that she is not okay (which would lead to Louie mostly just being concerned about her instead of listening), and would allow her to say, specifically-'Your family will always try to be there for you. We will always gladly be your safety net. But having the best safety net in the world means jack if you refuse to use it. And if you keep going doing what you're doing, you might end up in a place where we can't reach you.' (Which, sidenote: I think is what they were attempting to get across in the show, but just kinda fucked up at.)

And largely Louie wouldn't really take what she said into consideration until The Richest Duck in the World, where he'd very quickly find himself in exactly the position Della described.

Anyways, all that said, going back to The Island. Louie finding Della, alone, not doing the greatest.

And Louie would do what Louie would do. He'd head over, lie down right next to her, and make some dumb quip, which she'd snort at and return. ('Seems a little difficult to stargaze in the middle of the day.' | 'Hah- after the moon, any 'starry night sky' on earth just looks completely blank.')

And they'd finally talk. Della would get to explain how she didn't see this coming, and how much that sucks. And Louie would be like well it's not your fault Lunaris is a conniving ass, but Della would shake her head. It's not that she didn't see this betrayal coming (well, she didn't, but honestly at this point in her life it wasn't much of a surprise), but how she didn't see- this. Herself. Breaking.

She never saw this coming. Maybe she just hadn't been looking, but she never could've believed that she'd break like this. That she'd carry this- weight around, even after the moon. (She'd escaped the moon, after all. She really thought she'd be able to leave it all behind.)

She was Della Duck, for crying out loud. She always claimed that nothing could stop her, and yet- here she was. Unable to move on.

And Louie would agree. She couldn't move on- not by herself, at least. But what was it she'd told him, again? 'Family was a great safety net, but only if you actually used it' or something like that?

There was no shame to be found in breaking sometimes. You couldn't be expected to keep moving forever, without any breaks, until the end of time. Hell, he broke all the time- and took breaks all the time too, which helped a lot.

And there was no shame in asking for help, either. In admitting that you cannot solve every problem on your own, that you can't see every problem on your own- sometimes stuff affects you in ways you'd never be able to catch on your own.

But she wasn't alone anymore. She had family. And she could break now (well maybe not now-now, since the world was kinda ending at the moment), let herself shatter. And they'd all be here to help her pick up the pieces.

Della would 100% be in tears by this point, and Louie would bust out the song for her and Della would finish it (because that's just a beautiful scene), and Louie would get to explain to her after she asks that Donald sang it to them every night when they were little.

And that would be what finally gets her up and ready to head back. Ready to talk to her brother again, to face the world.

So the two would head back to the beach, where the Sunchaser is still kind of in disarray (without Launchpad around, none of them know how to fix it quickly), though the Moonlander has managed to get the rocket in pretty much tip-top shape by this point.

The kids notice that Della's back first, and immediately run to give her a hug (she apologizes profusely to them for her 'episode' back there, and promises not to react so poorly to one should it happen again), then back off to let her and Donald talk again.

And, again, they're back to that- awkward stage. They've forgotten how to interact with each other.

Della makes an effort to resolve this by lightly punching him on the shoulder. 'You refused to tell 'em anything about me, but you sang my song for them every night, huh?'

And Donald would snort and bandy back. 'Well hey, it was a good song. ...And even if I couldn't manage to talk about you, I thought they deserved to know a part of you, at least.'

And finally (finally), it'd come crashing down for both of them. Della was back. Donald was back. After ten (well more like eleven but who's counting) long years, they were finally back together.

Cue the waterworks. They'd immediately launch into a hug that looked like they were trying to squeeze the air out of each other, blubbering unintelligibly all the while.

Then the scene would be cut short by a loud booming noise. Off hundreds of miles out in the distance, the large Moonlander mothership would be seen blasting up, up, up into space.

And they'd breathe a sigh of relief (and maybe a little disappointment from the kids). Apparently things had been resolved while they were away. Lunaris was retreating. They were okay.

And then the mothership would turn around. And everyone's stomach would drop.

And that would lead into the final (or maybe penultimate if I wanted to be really self-indulgent) episode of the arc, which would start with the end of the episode before the island- Lunaris's defeat at the hands of Scrooge (well really Glomgold, Gladstone, Fethry, and Mitzy). The group is celebrating, momentarily not paying as much attention as they should. Lunaris takes the opportunity to run back to the ship and launch it into space. Everyone's like 'ah damn, wish we hadn't let him get away, but still- a victory's a victory.' At least, until the ship turns and they realize that he's going to try and do a suicide run into the earth. Which is good for absolutely nobody.

And as they realized this, a battered Moonlander radio that had fallen out of one of the ships nearby would start blinking.

Back on the island, the group would be freaking out. What could they do? What was gonna happen? The earth was doomed, everything they did, everything they tried to do- all for nothing.

And Della would look to the fixed up Moonlander ship, steady her shaking hands, and move towards it. And Donald would notice, understand exactly what she was going to do, and immediately run to object.

And they'd have an argument that, while we never saw the first, mirrors the last fight they had before Della went up into space the first time. Which Donald would hint towards by saying stuff like 'I just got you back, I can't lose you again!'

But Della would manage to cut him off eventually. This time was different. She wasn't running away. She knew the risks, she knew that this probably wouldn't end well.

There'd be a whole argument of 'It's the only thing we can do! Would you really be willing to let the whole world die for one person?' 'Yes!' 'Then what about the kids?'

Complete silence.

Della would tell Donald that she knew what he'd pick. If it was between her or the kids, she knew who he'd choose, every time. Even if it would kill him each time. Hence why she wasn't making him choose.

She'd then look over his shoulder and ask the kids if they'd ever seen what the stars looked like outside of the city. When they'd mention that no, they hadn't, she'd offer to show them.

With strengthened resolve and clear minds, the group would all head into the ship and fly up, up, and up to go meet Lunaris's vessel.

But there'd be a complication. Maybe caused by the earth moving out of orbit, maybe just pure coincidence, but as the Moonlander ship made its way into orbit, it'd slowly get harder and harder to see. To navigate. Maybe Della was just cursed, or maybe some force in the universe just really hated her guts- the second time she rocketed up out of earth, she was greeted by another cosmic storm.

But this time would be different. It had to be different- her whole family (obviously much more important than the world) was relying on her now. So instead of waiting, instead of trying to brave it herself- she immediately flips on the radio and tries to hail someone who could guide her through the storm.

And back on earth, Scrooge would pick up the blinking radio and his niece's voice would come out of it. Tinny and slightly shaking, but still putting on a brave face. As she says 'Hey, so promise not to be mad, but I might need your help,' he'd realize what's going on. It's happening again. His going to lose his whole family. Again.

Except- it wasn't happening again. Because this time it wasn't just him and Della. This time Donald was there. And Beakley. And Webby, and Huey, and Dewey, and Louie and Fethry and Gladstone and Launchpad and even Glomgold for crying out loud!

It wasn't just two people acting like they were gods this time. It was a whole group, a whole family, with a mission.

Since the mothership touched down close to the Money Bin, Scrooge could quickly get the remains of the earth team to the long unused command module. A little bit of blowing off dust and very shoddy science, and they could get it working- mostly.

It was nothing fancy, nothing wonderful, but all their heads combined they could figure out a way to track the mothership through the cosmic storm, and lead the space team to it.

What would follow would be a bit of a cat-and-mouse game between the mothership and the Duck ship, with the cosmic storm acting as cover and sort of a mask for both ships. They'd both be flying blind- but the Ducks would have the earth team to guide them. (Mostly Scrooge and Beakley, though Gladstone, Fethry, and Launchpad would help as well- Glomgold not so much. He would be trying, though, and that's gotta count for something, right?)

And all combined, they'd manage to do a decent job! They'd deal significant damage to the mothership, especially when taking into account just how small their ship is in comparison.

But even with all of that, disaster would still strike. In the form of a lightning bolt from the storm getting a lucky shot and frying their systems, leaving them dead in space (it would be specified that it was only temporary, though- the Moonlanders had built in backup systems that'd take over should a cosmic storm fry them after Della told them her tale). Which would already be bad enough- and then the storm would clear.

Granted, that would bring momentary relief to Della (flying through it would not be comfortable for her for pretty much the entire time) it would quickly be replaced by dread. Because without the cover, without the engines- they're sitting Ducks. Lunaris would very easily end them.

Thankfully though, it would end very similarly to how the Moonvasion ended regularly: Penumbra would come flying in at the last moment (in the original Spear of Selene, no less) and blow up the ships engines, momentarily leading to a tense moment where it seems like she died- then she slams onto the window of the Ducks' ship, and it'd be okay.

For the space team, at least. When their systems were fried momentarily, they'd also lose the radio. So earth team -specifically Scrooge- would have to sit in anticipation and dread as it really did seem like everything was going wrong exactly like it did last time.

And then the radio would blip back on, the signal would come back, and the earth team would rejoice. Everyone would rejoice- the earth would get pushed back into position, the space team would land back at the mansion and everyone would get to have a 'We Just Successfully Averted the End of World and Nobody Died! Thank Fuck!' Party.

(And if I was being really self-indulgent -which I totally haven't been already- I would make the 'holy shit we actually made it' party it's own final episode, maybe with a little bit of the 'fighting the big bad mothership' part for the beginning.

It'd actually largely be after most of the other people had left or had passed out in one of the guest rooms, and would be a bit of a mirror to the first episode of the season- Game Night. But this board game night would be -relatively- more chill, and just a thing focusing on what the Duck-McDuck family does to cool down after a large adventure like that.)

So yeah that's like- a little bit of my tangent of 'How I Would Change Ducktales If I Wanted To Make It A More Dramatic And Plot-Heavy Show'

If you got this far I hope you enjoyed it (and I feel real sorry for you if you didn't)

TL;DR: I'd make it so that the Moonvasion finale was instead a final arc, and I'd make The Island a full episode in its own right. I'd also make it so that they fly up to meet Lunaris in a space fight right after The Island, leaving Scrooge and the other cousins to guide them through a cosmic storm

[nerdvi]

In the wake of the whole james somerton fiasco and inspired by this post, I wanted to share a few of my um, soft signs, like, orange flags to detect when someone is bullshitting you.

First of all, I am on the spectrum which means 1) I tend to take what people say at face value and 2) I have a strong sense of justice which makes me prone to biases, all of which combined means I am at perpetual risk of swallowing the bullshit.

So, what to do about it? You turn on the critical thinking and pay attention.

As one of my favorite youtubers, Hannah Alonzo, likes to say: "consider the source, remember the motive". Who is talking to you?? What do you know about them?? What biases might they have?? How do they interact with your own biases?? Where are they talking from?? Is it anger?? happinness? boredom?? Also, why are they talking to you? Are they trying to sell you something?? Are they trying to convince you and why?? How do they go about the finantial motivation, if present? If you have, in this case, a white cis gay man talking to you as it he has it the worst of the worst in the world, there's probably some exaggeration and you should start to wonder. There's a good chance he's bullshitting you.

How they talk about women and POC No, no, stay with me. There's a rule I had back when I was dating men: Always beware of how they treat their mother. With the exception of extremes like mama's boys and cases of abuse, how a man treats the woman with whom they have that familial bond is a good indicator of how they are going to treat you. Do they berate her? speak ill of her? are aggressive or controlling? do they dismiss her opinions? Same with creators, and by god I tell you, specially cis male creators, queer or otherwise, always always beware of how they speak of women, how they treat women, how they treat POC. Somerton had a weird vendetta against straight women. It went mostly unnoticed. Then, he was dismissive towards lesbians and other queer women and it was once again overlooked. Then he went ahead and made sinophobic content about genres and cultures he knows NOTHING about. Again, it went unchecked. What I am telling you is IT'S NOT NORMAL. Contempt about women and non white-western cultures is not normal and if someone has them as them as an enemy or a scapegoat, they're probably bullshitting you. Take what they say and fact check it, see for yourself.

If at any point in a video or an essay you find yourself thinking "wait, really??" then it's time to fact check. Is it a bit suspicious?? is your logic telling you that's not quite how this works?? Then take to google, my friend, they might be bullshitting you. At worst, you dodge a fake fact, at best, you learn way too much about a topic you were already interested in.

Beware of the lack of nuance. I can not stress this enough. We all love monochrome, but life and societal issues are never black and white. It's just impossible, there's too many factors to consider. If you are being presented situations or anecdotes as absolute truths, you're probably being bullshitted. If it's too good to be true, it is. If it sounds waaay too convenient, it probably is. A good researcher, a serious investigator, will always have some nuance because they have done the work and checked the sources. If someone provides you 1) no nuance and 2) no sources, THEY'RE BULLSHITTING YOU.

These are the ones I can come up with just of the top of my head, I'm sure there's more and please, add them. Remember that naivité isn't a crime, I'm fairly naive and that's made me distrustful, and these are some of the techniques I've found that help me navigate through a world of information without losing myself.

[huggywuggysuppy]

once you finish Empires S1 i'd like to hear your thoughts about esmp1!gem. she's genuinely one of my favorite characters to analyse because she is so nuanced and interesting in so many ways anywhere you look at her. her twisted determination to achieve peace at ANY cost, her rigid thinking and neurodivergency, her relation with symbols like her tower or the end and the moon, or her genuine wish to be a good person and so many other things. there's so much that is impossible to grasp at first (<- <- me, lesbian who is really normal about her favorite gem)

She's right.

Essentially, Gem understands the role a wizard PLAYS in a story. She's never the cause of something, but she sure amplifies both the problems and the solutions. She's morally gray, she's playing both sides, but nobody ever challenges her on that because of course Gem's helping the heroes too -- they need artifacts! She's a plot device, a questgiver, a weapon. She's the voice of reason, the straight man in any comedy duo, yet makes the same questionable decisions as anyone. She's experimenting, she's out of her comfort zone, she's having the time of her life. Wizard Gem is, ultimately, a real wizard.

That's the short answer anyhow. Longer analysis, well, I'm so glad you asked. I can't talk about character without diving into the content creator metanarrative (feature not a bug) so let's get into the noodles! What about Wizard Gem makes her so fantastic?

Wizard Gem is a catalyst.

From the beginning, Gem is mixing up dynamics and forcing new inspiration by opposing what's static. The way the rest of the Wither Rose Alliance sort of? Molds? Around her. How Sausage and fWhip are beefing until the day she alliances with Pearl and suddenly the four are besties. How she adds moral nuance to the villain side, both by mixing relations with the hero side, and just by insisting the Wither Rose are seeking peace, really, they're trying their best! This stops things from being so cut and dry and basic. Instead of Xornoth's vain forces against the heroic bumbling fish people (with the plant and animal empires in between), there's all sorts of messiness and drama. And Gem's aware of this, of how she's changing things, and so the effect is amplified.

On a CC level, even her origins are experimental. Gem was originally planning a more naturey plant wizard, but since Shubble, Katherine, AND Pearl, were plant based (& arguably Joey too) she adapted into amethyst and rocks. And it turned out amazing! That foundation of experimenting made it easier to take larger risks both content and character wise. All the empires folk enjoyed the lore centric storytelling: only getting deeper into it through the season, but Gem especially paved the way for embracing rp and outfits and items and fun.

But back to C! As the Wither Rose alliance progresses, terrorizing the server included, Gem maintains her peace loving stance. Taking on the role as fWhip's (and later Sausage)'s PR managers is genuinely so important to me. She never really stops them from doing bad things, but she's always discouraging them and talking them down one or two degrees. Ultimately loyal to her alliance, she's also taking responsibility for the consequences. Helping out Jimmy behind the scenes to lessen the blow, both for him but also herself.

At her core, Wizard Gem wants peace.

For herself and friends at least. Unfortunately, the Crystal Cliffs aren't in a bubble, so she keeps having to save the world anyway. She dreads conflict at best and fears it at worst. Her concerns are her kingdom, her neighbors, whatever magic / building she's invested in right now, and maybe a light shenanigan here or there. She'll help fWhip get out of trouble because they really do love each other, he's always helping her out too in his own ways (ex: making her stuff,) and she'll protect the realm so the problems stay far away from their doorsteps. When things do eventually fall into her lap, she definitely deals with them. Just... not 100%. Enough that they stop breaking the peace for now.

Let's be honest, Wizard Gem is firmly in denial. She's down for burying the corruption and letting it claim whole towers of her base. Often she'll just accept whatever another player brings to her: buying Scott and Katherines plush, whatever weird scams Lizzie tries on her, etc. When Scott gives her the Elsa curse, she hangs out in the nether, takes Shrub’s dodgy Xornoth cure, and stubbornly "it's fine"-s her way through avoiding a real solution until fWhip drags her to Katherine. It's telling that her (short-lived) corrupted evil version is more confident, while others become hyper or angry. This isn't laziness: it's fear. She doesn't want to step on any toes and start any conflicts. You can see it in how she talks to Jimmy and fWhip: giving them what they need not to win, but to end things.

This is how Gem maintains the story role of a wizard: she's always trying to stop things, so she's never starting new things, only making them better or worse. But how does Gem get away with it? She's simultaneously one of the most invested players in the lore, yet playing a character who'd rather be anywhere else. That dichotomy is entertaining, sure, but there's something else here.

Wizard Gem is loyal, curious, and moral. Just... not obviously.

Gem is unfathomably loyal. While she plays both sides, she's always standing alongside her allies in battle and all her actions are ensuring they're safe. She may be exasperated, yet treats her immediate alliance members with kindness. How fWhip drags her into things, but he never asks her to, it's always Gem CHOOSING to follow him because what else is she gonna do? Let him do it himself? How Sausage makes her laugh with his absurdity, even when they're fighting. How she's always a little uncomfortable, even in her great empire, except in the quiet simple moments with her allies between schemes.

(Still can’t believe roseblings isn’t canon. Like fWhip’s line about how he blew up relations with Scott because he messed with Gem, "it's okay fWhip I'm fine now," their tones, ohhhh devious work. They don't need to be canon, nonfamilial platonic relationships and all that, but STILL. I'm only human.)

(EDIT: nevermind they’re canon !! big win for the girlies)

Gem's also invested in magic and learning more about it, and she learns to trust and share that with others. The Crystal Cliffs Academy demonstrates growth: from solving problems herself when they’re too big to ignore, to actually addressing things at the source. Explicitly, the goal is to strengthen other empires magic knowledge so less crises happen. That’s preventative instead of reactionary. Even choosing the Ocean Queen as her first student is intentional: not an ally, causes a lot of medium scale ruckuses, in text Gem sensed her using transformation magic that wasn’t hers and wanted to guide Lizzie towards at least controlling it. Start of season Gem would’ve just kept handling any crises herself.

Essentially, Gem is trying SO HARD to be good. As anon said, she has a sort of rigid thinking (again, fun contrast between CC experimental and C rigidity) that creates this fantastic mix where she's staying true to the Wither Rose because she loves them and wants to keep them safe as their friend, but also trying to act for the greater good as a wizard, even though she'd rather focus on her own things. It's not a stable point of view, and is constantly challenged, creating the amazing series of events that we get to see unfold.

Also, Wizard Gem is straight up cool.

Regarding imagery, Wizard Gem has a distinct style that’s so fun to build and draw and write about. She's magical and otherworldly (dragons, the end) but also ethereal and magnificent on a human scale (towers, the moon.) Amethyst itself is inherently unique: something about forming deep under pressure, growing slow and beautiful, sought after as thrones and paths alike. These aesthetics have infinite storytelling potential, and look cute doing it.

And all these things are carried into Gem’s imagery as a whole! Losing her eye to and getting corrupted by the end portal in Life Series, building dragons and towers and villages all across her mc worlds, often using the moon in builds like her hc10 lighthouse. She’s solidly the moon in shinyduo sun/moon dynamic (while they both employ sun/moon all the time, Pearl builds and lores solidly more sun, let alone their comedy dynamic.) Even the struggle between embracing/chasing excellence versus holding herself back out of fear: that's Gem in every world! Emp1 is combining a lot of Gem's themes into one single character. And turns out she's really awesome!

This character wholeness lets Gem maintain her signature exasperated excellence over the other players. Like PVP prowess and building skill, she's an expert here too, and delightful to watch and interact with. Wizard Gem is amplifying everything, trying to keep her loved ones safe, learning that she needs to make peace herself, all while staying true to her beautiful masterful self.

Finally, CC!Gem is delighted to roleplay like this.

Every time she turns to the camera to give disclaimers and talk about her character, there's an infectious joy and "I can't believe this is my job." She often compares it to D&D, which ohh the parasocial brainrot is taking so normally, but also there's an unapologeticness to it. If you don't like her character / the roleplay / etc, stop watching, whatever, this is fun for the rest of us. Her and other CCs have talked about the crippling pushback from playing antagonistic characters -- and there's no shortage of that in emp1, she has to put disclaimers on the RP portions! But unlike Life Series where she's constantly fighting demons (it's own post, really) Wizard Gem is having too much fun to care. I think that's why emp1 hits different, at least for us Gem girlies. She's taking this seriously, and she's having the time of her life.

I originally posted about Worldhopper/Watcher Gem because that adds an extra layer of spice to her in all series, but it's still really awesome by itself. Summoning the dragons from ANOTHER WORLD? Hello?? Don't think I missed her using the nether portal to change skins either. Giggling during convos with Xornoth, undaunted by the Empires Crown, the list goes on. One day someone will assemble all her characters into the same room to compare notes and that someone will either be me or Geminitay herself.

In short, Empires S1 Gem is a Wizard. She's a catalyst, she ultimately wants peace, she's loyal curious and moral, she's straight up cool, and she's having fun. And isn't that just the most magical joy of all?

Anyway, accepting empires fic recommendations in reblogs / directly into my inbox. What a privilege to get to watch so much great art. Thank you for reading!

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 9.5*

AN: The poll isn't over juuussst yet but I'm pretty sure of what is gonna win, so here we are <3 I do appreciate those voting for Roo's choice! Kissing your foreheads so softly rn /platonic So I kind of split the diff, you know? This was my choice was this part right here. Bc it makes me laugh. We get more MBC too, since I'm also going to start Part 10! Yay! Then I'll get back to requests! So, you'll get this today, then maybe part 10 either later tonight (Probably Tomorrow), then on Thursday I'll start requests again since Wednesday is my rest day!

ALSO also, people are figuring out my little clues and like I'm so proud of all of us. We're killing it, y'all are great at picking up the small nuances, Kissing you so gently on the forehead right now.

ALSO ALSO, also, I think the general consensus was that it's okay to give Reader a tail? I might hold off just for now to see if any objections come from it, but if there are none come part 11, I'll add it permanently! For this chapter, it's just a trial run! It's totally okay too if thats not something you guys want too, let me preface! If it turns out you guys try it, hate it, and want it gone I can come back and edit this part! Hence the "*" in the title!

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight -> Part Nine

Warnings: None, really, except for some of my personal ships. I don't wanna see any debate about them, this is mostly my preferences.

☁ He's watching you.

☁ He's watching you and you know it. You're momentarily ignoring it as you're elbow deep in the cookie jar, newly filed nails just barely brushing against a cookie at the very bottom. It makes you huff in annoyance at it before you're moving to kneel on the counter, hoping to reach further into the frankly too-larger-to-be-normal cookie jar. It just evades you're hand once more, and your tail gives a whip in annoyance.

☁ You would use the additional limb, but you've gotten in trouble more times than you could count with using your tail in the kitchen. Something about it getting too close to the Twisteds for it to be sanitary at all. You rolled your eyes at that, but since returning from your time as a Twisted, for a second time, you obeyed where you could.

☁ All while he's watching you struggle, hiding a poorly concealed snicker behind his blanket. It makes you huff once more before finally getting a finger on the cookie, making you grin. You hook it to the side, gently dragging it up so you can grab it, only for it to crumble.

☁ You let out a cry, retracting your cookie-less hand to stare in the jar, bewildered at the absolute audacity.

☁ This time he can't stop the laugh that spills out of him, making you glare at him. "You could've helped."

☁ "I could've." Astro agrees, standing from his chair, where he has a glass of milk and his own trio of cookies on a plate in front of him. "But where's the fun in that?"

☁ He walks over to the cookie jaw and reaches a longer arm in, making your tail wag behind you as you watch him grab one of the larger chunks of your broken treat. You quickly grab your set aside plate and hold it out for him to set the piece on the plate. One by one, every piece is set on the plate before he's pulling his arm back and putting the lid back on. It's flipped upside down so the top of the jar is facing the inside, signifying it's empty.

☁ With so many toons living in one area, it was easy for small things like an empty cookie jar to make tensions rise, so small things like that just made everything flow so much easier.

☁ You thank Astro with a happy little kiss, making him hum contentedly at your actions before you're both returning to the table. You have your own cup of milk as well, both of you picking up the tradition of a pre-bedtime snack a few months back. Or so you thought that's when it started.

☁ For Astro, this had always been the two of you's thing. Sprout and Cosmo baked, himself and Sprout went through old episodes together and the other handler rooms, even Cosmo and himself had scary movie nights. Everyone had their thing with each other, and cookies in the kitchen late at night was yours and his. This was the first place you told him about the Teagan and Rodger tension, which had grown exponentially. And as much as he tried to pretend he wasn't, he was a huge gossip.

☁ The familiar action of just you and him talking about everything going on, debriefing if one would, was something he held so dear and close to his chest, and he's sure you knew it too as you would never let more than three days pass before shaking him awake with a cheeky grin, nodding to the doorway.

☁ It reminded him of when he came back in all honesty. Never would that Astro ever have thought he would've been where he is now, with you and Cosmo and Sprout and Blu and everyone back, but as he is now, he would rather turn into a twisted again then give it up.

☁ His own tail gave a wag as he slid one of his cookies onto your plate, giving you The Look when you tried giving it back. You took it with a humored rool of your eyes, before rewrapping yourself in your own blanket, crossing your legs on your chair as you settled in.

☁ The lights were down low and gave your cheeks the softest orange tint and your eyes the softest of amber highlights. It made his tail wag at the sight of it, the silly thing giving away all of his emotions before he even had the chance to stop it.

☁ "So," You begin, folding your hands in front of you like it's a business meeting. "Check-in. How is Mr. Novalite doing?"

☁ He guffaws at the drop of his name, but copies your seated postion anyway with one pair of hands holding his blanket while the other twists with his tail to stop it from wagging like a lunatic. "I'm...content. Honestly. Sprout and I found some more sealed documents in Delilah's old room and are planning on looking through those soon. Cosmo and I have plans to watch that new Heretic movie that just came out. You and I are having our own date night. Plus, I know we all have a big date night coming up. Did you and Cosmo decide on what you wanted to do?"

☁ You nod, grinning happily as your own tail gives a wag. "Spa treatments then a movie night! We have it all planned out and ready to go, with a few special treats ordered for the night!"

☁ Your excitement is palpable and contagious, so much so Astro has to tighten his hold on his own tail, even if the moon at the end continues to move regardless. "That sounds perfect." He gives a sappy grin. "Other than that, myself and Shelly started a new book Brightney recommended to us, so we've been doing that to reconnect. And I think...that's really it from my end."

☁ You soften at the new information, leaning on one of your hands as your elbow settles on the table. "You sound happy."

☁ "I am. Immensely." He returns, reaching a hand. You give your free one eagerly, letting him hold it and trace his thumb over the knuckles of your hand. "Now, what about you? You've been busy."

☁ You nod, watching his thumb before thinking back to what you've been doing lately. "Well, Cosmo and I have started getting into art lately. We spent last night painting with music in the background, and it was nice. We got to talk without really thinking about it-oh, by the way, we decided you would be the boot in monopoly."

☁"...The boot." He has to take a second, mentally going through the pieces before realizing he never cared enough to know them all.

☁ "Yeah, we originally thought thimble because it sounds like thumb and you have the most thumbs, but it was way funnier if you went with the boot." You explain as if any of that made any sense whatsoever. "Also, did you know he wants like eight kids? Not happening." You scrunch your features before shaking his head. "Like, don't get me wrong, I liked the kids when Gardenview was in it's prime, but eight? All the time?!" You grimace, making him chuckle before your shaking your head.

☁ "Anyway, Sprout and I, what have we been doing?" You think for a second, before perking right up. "A few things! We've been playing games a lot! It started with Mario Kart, and then we found mini-gold clubs on one of the runs and now we set up increasingly difficult holes. It's great! I kick his ass!" You beam. Astro's sure half the problem for Sprout is that the mini-golf clubs made for children are much too short for him, but he doesn't bring that up.

☁ "And with friends, Goob's going through something- which I'll tell you in a second-, but Glisten and I have gotten closer lately. He joined our tag runs recently and he actually kills it! Especially with his teleporting? I don't think he's been tagged once." You explain, raising your head so you could use that hand to gesture as you speak. "We're thinking of doing some sort of Geo-caching too, but it's hard because we can't really leave Gardenview. That's okay though. As for now, I'm here with you, moonshine."

☁ His cheeks dust navy at the compliment, squeezing your hand tighter. "Do you remember the first time we did this?"

☁ You hum, thinking back before nodding. "I think I do. It was before we started dating. I think I remember being pissy because people kept saying Cosmo and I were dating but we weren't. But it wasn't because people were saying it, but because I had a huge stinkin' crush on him at the time and he could not pick up the hint."

☁ He chuckles. "Yeah. I was a little relieved at that you know. I had a 'huge stinkin' crush' on this cute distractor that had come to visit me. Imagine how crushed i would've been." He teases and you stick your tongue out. "Please. You were just as bad. I was doing the same goofy moves to you and Sprout literally within the same week and you didn't pick up on it either."

☁ "Neither of you picked up on anything, don't you fool yourselves." A new voice startles you both, making you look over at the doorway. Sprout is there, raising a brow at you both. Cosmo is hanging off his side, looking like he's seconds away from collapsing, eyes bleary and slowly blinking. Both of you wave at them, even if Sprout's eyes dart to the cookie jar and he gives an exasperated groan. "Again?"

☁ "In our defense, most of this batch were eaten by Goob. He's going through some stuff." You wince, watching as Astro pulls a chair to his side with his foot, close enough they make a soft clink when they hit, opening his blanket the duo. Cosmo takes the invitation, slumping forward as he practically crawls on the chair and burrows into the celestial, who wraps his arms around the cake roll, covering him in his cloak-blanket. At this point, you aren't even sure which it is.

☁ Sprout raises a brow at you, grabbing an apron off the hook and quickly slipping it on as he steps towards the cabinets. "What do you mean? Goob is the last person I'd expect."

☁ "Me too!" You exclaim, gently easing your hand from Astro's so you can turn to the side, making talking to both Sprout and Astro (and Cosmo by extension) easier. "But- Pause. Rewind. What do you know of the Teagan and Rodger drama? I know Astro is caught up because I told him and Cosmo knows because he's been here since it started, but I don't know if any of us have caught you or the other mains up."

☁ "Not much." Sprout responds, pulling out the butter and sugar in practiced motions as you bite into your cookie, nodding as if this was the answer you expected. "What kind of cookies do we want this time?"

☁ "Double chocolate. There's a new cocoa powder-" Cosmo suddenly pipes up, even if his eyes stay shut, interrupting himself with a yawn. "That I ordered specifically for that recipe we were looking at."

☁ Sprout nods at this, preheating the oven as he passes to grab the larger electric mixer. He measures out the butter and two types of sugar before letting them mix, going back to the pantry for the powdered ingredients. "Okay, so what is the reason? Like I know obviously the other day in the elevator there was a nerve hit."

☁ "Yeah," You dip a piece of your broken cookie in your glass of milk. "So I'll start from the beginning. When we first recovered Teagan, her and Rodger were like...inseparable. I mean, they had Toodles, so like we kinda assumed they'd be. Toodles was ecstatic to have them both back too, so we were all like 'great, perfect.' It was not in fact great or perfect." You throw the piece into your mouth as Sprout sifted said cocoa powder, flour and a few other things into a separate bowl.

☁ "It was fine for the first little bit and then we started recovering more and more people, then they began fighting, like a lot. Like more than I would classify as normal for...any couple really. It was silly, small, petty things too like Rodger didn't say good morning to her first." You continued. "He normally said good morning to Toodles first, but he was far from perfect either. I remember once, he like lost his shit because she picked up a research capsule."

☁ "He called her all sorts of names, didn't he?" Cosmo piped in, poking open an eye. You nodded at this. "I wasn't convinced they weren't gonna get physical that run. They were so loud I had to work double time to keep the twisteds occupied as Cosmo had to do twice as many machines."

☁ This made both Sprout and Astro grimace, the latter rubbing the cake roll's shoulder in sympathy even if this was long in the past.

☁ You're thinking momentarily, trying to decipher when it truly turned to shit when it hits you. "It was when Glisten came back that they broke up. Rodger made it this whole thing too in the middle of the run. I don't really blame Glisten as he was unaware of Toodles like...being their kid, we hadn't had the chance to fill him in. He was spending a lot of time with Rodger though, so we just expected him to fill Glisten in. Turns out, he didn't. In retaliation, Teagan started seeing Shrimpo."

☁ Sprout is gaping behind you as he pauses where he's adding an egg to the mixer. He recovers quickly, throwing out the shell before adding vanilla to the mix as well. He turns down the mixing speed before turning to you. "Shimpo? And Teagan?"

☁ You nod, watching Cosmo take one of Astro's cookies, making the Celestial huff at this even if his newly freed tail wags behind him. You grin before turning back to Sprout. "Yeah, trust, we weren't expecting it either. They were also about as explosive as you'd expect. If Teagan and Shrimpo weren't fighting, it was him and Rodger or her and Rodger or all three of them depending on the day. At this point, Glisten was aware he was in a little too deep, but he had fallen hard and fast and didn't know what to do."

☁ "What did he do? I can't expect him to do much in that situation." Astro pipes in, mindlessly handing Cosmo his glass- which the cake roll was reaching for. "And what happened to Toodles?"

☁ "That's what Glisten did." Cosmo steps in, dipping his stolen treat. "He would take Toodles the second this started up and would come to either mine or Y/N's room. His was still being put together and if nothing else, he knew he could trust us to step in if they tried bringing the fight to him. Which they did. It seemed if they were fighting, everyone needed to fight."

☁ "You're joking." Sprout spits, putting down the bowl with the flour mixture he was adding to the mixer. "That's so ridiculous."

☁ "I wish we were." You shrug. "But no. Which is kind of why they hate our relationship so much because we don't fight, and our arguments are often just a matter of temporary disagreement then true hostility." Your tail gives a whip behind you. "It only got physical during this period once. Once was all that was needed though. Shrimpo and Rodger had gotten into it with Teagan instigating, like pouring gas on an electric fire, and Shrimpo snapped, throwing a fist. Toodles saw and Glisten stepped in then while Scraps took Toodles. He was already on the brink, but they didn't break up during that."

☁ "How did they break up?" Sprout asks, now thoroughly entwined in this story. "They aren't together now, as far as I'm aware." He turns back to adding the powdered ingredients and you let him finish before answering.

☁ "Shrimpo and Glisten walked in on Rodger and Teagan." You explain and the bowl is nearly dropped in time with Sprout's jaw. Astro hums at this, having a similar expression when he first heard it. You nod before continuing. "They broke up with them then and there. They didn't take it well and it was this huge thing once more. Runs were absolute agony for the a little while. Glisten, in his defense, absolutely refused to interact with them though. Refused to look at them, talk to them, and I'm pretty sure for a while refused to do runs with them."

☁ The mixer is stopped and scraped as a few cookies sheets are pulled out and prepped, Sprout moving to roll the dough balls out, adding chocolate chips as he does. "When was all this?"

☁ "Right before we got Astro back was when the peak hit. It slowly got better when we got you back, and it's remained a little stagnant. Until recently." You give a devious smirk, knowing all three are hooked onto the information you're about to share. "Let me preface this with saying, everything I tell you I have permission to do so. Goob knows I'm doing this-"

☁ "Goob's involved?!" Cosmo whines, now looking wide awake.

☁ "Not in the way you think!" You quickly remedy. "No, he's involved in a different way. Because him and I work really well together, we do a lot of runs together, which duh, you guys know, but Glisten has wanted to get away from...you know...So he's started hanging with us a lot more. Anyway, they do their own thing, we do ours, but Goob came up to me the other day, and you wanna know what he said?"

☁ "Is that even a question?" Astro snorts. "What do you get from teasing us like this?"

☁ "Satisfaction, especially when I tell you that Goob has a big ol' stinkin' crush on GLISTEN." You share, and all three gape at the new piece of information. "Scraps won't have it, she's literally fuming because, and I quote, why would he want to get involve in all that drama. Goob literally refused to let her say anything about it further, going to war. I had never seen Goob so upset with his sister before."

☁ "Was this during that run we did a couple days ago? The one where tripped over a can of pop and smoked his face against a machine?" Cosmo eagerly asks, sitting up with his hands slamming on the table. "And Glisten was the first to run over and oh my god-?!"

☁ You nod excitedly. "It was! Goob literally has not stopped talking about it since. He even asked how we got together."

☁ "And you had to tell him all about how I was the one to do it?" Sprout smirked, sliding the first batch into the over. You excitement paused as you turned to stare at him, scoffing in his direction. "It was a group effort."

☁ "Nope. All me. Sprout is the greatest. C'mon. Admit it." His spotted cheeks upturn in time with his catlike grin and you continue to scoff.

☁ "Over my dead body maybe." You cross your arms, turning away from him as he comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your shoulders anyway as he nuzzles into your cheek, blowing a raspberry against it and making you squirm against him. You let out a yell at the action, even if he tightens his hold so you can't get out.

☁ The other two simply watch, remaining ignorant to your cries at them for help.

☁ While this has started as just something between you and Astro, watching you and Sprout, with Cosmo returning to burrow in his side, Astro lets his tail wag this time. His heart practically bursts at the full feeling it has and how lucky he considers himself to be a part of this.

☁ You and him will have more date nights, just the two of you, but these moments with all four of you have a way of just making him feel so special.

☁ Almost to the point he feels bad for the others as he knows they'll never feel the same happiness he feels with you guys.

☁ He hopes the past version of himself can rest easy now, knowing he's happy and content, and wouldn't change it for the world.

Also: The Cookie Recipe Sprout is making -> Here!

[ilybeam]

“Tat my name on you so I know it’s real”

—

You jokingly tell him to tattoo your name so you know he’s serious about your relationship.

—

Various x Gn!reader

Gun Park, Dg/James Lee, Hudson Ahn, Samuel Seo, Vasco, and Jake Kim

—

Content Warnings - Established relationship, unintentionally manipulative reader?

A/n - Didn’t add all my favorite characters so if people enjoy this I might make a part two.

—

Doesn’t tat it

Gun park -

- Definitely scoffed at you when you said that.

- I mean are you crazy? His body is a temple, of course he’s not going to go through with something that he could potentially regret in the future.

- Told you to get his name first and then he’d think about it. Was not serious about that proposition when he said it.

- Has semi realistic expectations of romantic relationships.

- Scolded you even after you said it was a joke.

“All jokes have some truth to them, [name].” He chided

“God you sound like my mother.” You bit back.”

—

Dg/James Lee-

- Looked at you like you had three eyes.

- He’s an idol, his image is everything. A tacky tattoo of his lovers name would not slide.

- Doesn’t even matter if he thinks y’all would last forever, a tattoo is just too much.

- Would try to compromise by buying a chain with your name on it.

—

Didn’t agree to it, but definitely thought about it

Hudson Ahn-

- The man reeks of commitment what can I say.

- His devotion to relying on his right hand is a testament to that.

- But even with all things considered a tattoo of your name is a bit much.

- Definitely thinks it’s a bit tacky as well.

- Not to mention, your significant others name as a first tattoo is a lot.

- All things considered, you should be thankful he even thought about.

—

Samuel Seo -

- Laughed at you when you said it.

- But even so, it definitely took him a minute to think about it.

- I mean his whole body is tatted up, how’s one more going to make a difference.

- Would also be very easy to cover up or incorporate in the design of his whole body’s

- But a king with his significant others name tattooed on his body, I’m not sure if that’s a great idea.

- Told you he’d tattoo your name, if you tattooed his.

- But unlike gun he wasn’t joking.

“Okay I’ll do it-“ he smirked, he’s definitely up to something.

“Wait really?” you interrupted, not actually thinking he’d agree.

“But only if you tattoo mine aswell”

—

Agreed to tattoo your name, no regrets.

Vasco-

- Didn’t think of the nuances of tattooing your name.

- I mean look at him, what’s one more tattoo.

- Not much more to be said.

“Vasco?” You called out, gaining his attention.

You both sat in the park whilst Vasco was in between sets.

“Hmm?” He replied, slowly catching his breath after completing his ridiculous workout regimen.

“You should get my name tattooed” you tried to hide the smile forming on your face.

“Huh, get your name tattooed, why?” His whole attention was on on you now, he was genuinely confused.

“So I know it’s real” it was really hard to contain your laugh now.

His face fell some more, even more confused than before. An adorable display of his emotions.

“Let me rephrase that, so I know you’re serious about me .” You pouted as those last words came out of your mouth, attempting to add sincerity to your words. You knew Vasco was serious about you, from your first, albeit, disastrous date.

“Okay” he smiled as his reply came out, full of real sincerity.

“Okay?” Now you felt bad, you didn’t think he’d actually agree.

“Mhm, I’m real serious. I’ll have to set an appointment for it then. Sorry if it takes too long, my artist might not have any availability.” With those words he turned back to his set, ready to complete the rest of his push-ups.

Okay, now you felt really bad. His face when he said that made you take pause when telling him it was a joke. You forget how sincere your boyfriend really is. One to always wear his heart on his sleeve.

“No, no Vasco. I was joking. Don’t get my name tattooed please.”

—

Jake Kim-

- What can I say, he’s as committed as they come.

- Would only get into a relationship if he’s completely sure he wants to stay with you forever.

- A tattoo is for ever and so is your love.

- Would hope you’d get his name tattooed aswell, but wouldn’t force it. Especially if you don’t have any other tattoos.

- Definitely pouted when you said it was a joke.

- Told you he was going to get it done anyways now that you put the Idea into his head.

—

m.list

A/n - got a bit carried away with Vasco’s one, I’m not sure how it happened but I wanted to add a bit of a Drabble since his was so short and it turned into that. Hope y’all enjoy anyways.

[esquilone]

Why does anyone like Colm O'Driscoll?

RDR2 | Character’s analyzation

❤︎ Subject notes: Someone asked me to talk about this and, honestly? I said yes ’cause I don’t get it either. My asks are still open, so feel free to drop requests for character stuff you like — just be respectful and keep it to stories, opinions or analysis, okay?

❤︎ about the cover, I didn't like it honestly. So I tried to edit it to be in side wallpaper size, so I just fixed it. I intend to change it.

❤︎ this was requested! ❤︎

Like... it's serious. I could keep wondering how someone can look at Colm and think: "wow, what an interesting character".

But as the person who made this request did not specify whether it was "like" in the sense of finding it interesting or attracting himself in the most personal (or even aesthetic) sense and asked only for an analysis, so I will explore everything I can.

Colm O’Driscoll within the game’s story

First, I’ll be honest: my knowledge about Colm is shallow. He’s not a deeply developed character like others in the game. What we know about him revolves mostly around his feud with Dutch. And that already says a lot.

Colm killed Annabelle, who was Dutch’s partner. In return, Dutch killed Colm’s brother. And that’s where this mutual obsession is born — this hatred that lasts for years — and kind of defines both of them. Because when the story begins in Red Dead Redemption 2, it’s Dutch himself who reopens that wound, using the excuse that the O’Driscolls were around, up in the Grizzlies. There’s also that part where Dutch, Arthur, and Sadie are guards at Colm’s sentencing, and it kind of seems like they go there because of Sadie’s loss. But really, everyone senses it’s not just about Sadie, because it truly wasn’t

Dutch was waiting for a chance to attack Colm again.

Because he is like that - he carries this wounded pride, this constant need to "rescue" what he feels he has lost, even if killing Colm did not bring Anabell back to him. And Colm becomes the living symbol of this grudge. That's the intrigue between them.

So we can add a little of that to why some people are interested in it. Because he represents this kind of constant figure, not forgotten, never retreats in his dialogues, and never changes. He's pure rancor. And there are those who find that... intriguing.

“After Colm’s Death, Dutch Finally Says Goodbye to Annabell”

How do people get to this point?

Now, trying to understand the side of those who really like Colm (which seems surreal to me, but let's go):

• Maybe it’s the fascination with the fixed enemy, the one who never disappears and somehow gives “shape” to the hero. Without Colm, maybe Dutch wouldn’t have lost himself so early in his own madness — I’m suggesting Dutch might’ve gotten a little more unhinged after the death of his beloved. Or maybe he would’ve anyway. But Colm was the trigger for one of those locks in Dutch’s mental cage.

There are people who enjoy crude, brutal villains — ones with no redemption, no depth — just blood in their eyes.

• Or maybe it’s the meme. Let’s be honest: Colm is a bit of a caricature. He’s the generic elegant-evil outlaw type turned up to eleven. That becomes a joke, and from the joke comes attachment.

Maybe that’s the second point: the appeal of the grotesque. We’re used to seeing beauty and depth in well-written characters, with moral nuance, with inner scars. Colm isn’t that. He’s a shameless force of destruction, a meticulously calculated, hateful chaos that doesn’t try to justify itself. And that kind of character, strangely enough, draws attention. Because he doesn’t want to be loved. He just exists. Just breaks. Just takes for his own advantage. You can see Dutch needs to express his glory when he defeats someone, while Colm seems to absorb his victories silently, with no need for excessive or prideful celebration

There is something about this brake difference that can be hypnotic for some people.

Colm’s emotional restraint

Colm isn’t a character who shows off

He doesn’t talk too much. He doesn’t need to justify himself — because he doesn’t need to. He’s a gang leader, sure, but he’s a quiet man, an observer. And above all, he’s practical. Does he have pride? Yes. But it’s a restrained pride, one that doesn’t scream, that doesn’t need an audience.

He doesn’t feed off attention like Dutch does.

He doesn’t act out of emotional wounds — he acts out of necessity.

Unlike Dutch, who allowed himself to experience a constant theater in an attempt to recover his wounded ego, Colm always seems to measure the world with coldness. Almost a kind of stoicism, though with very little denial when it comes to accepting mistakes with extreme calm.

“Is this worth my time?” “Does this serve me?”

“Is it useful or not?”

Even though he lost his brother at Dutch’s hands, he doesn’t spend his life chasing the past. He doesn’t cling to pain as a constant motivation. When he strikes, it’s because he has a plan, an advantage, or a direct interest. He doesn’t waste time on what isn’t worth the effort — and that’s one of his most defining traits.

In that scenario where he kidnaps Arthur, he doesn’t do it out of blind hatred. He sees an opportunity. He was smart about it, and he seemed to know Dutch wouldn’t come for Arthur.

Maybe a possible deal with the law. Maybe a big money exchange. Maybe a chance to weaken the Van der Linde gang and use the law to his advantage so he could take them down himself later

But it's not emotion.

It’s calculation, it’s thought-out and planned — but it’s not moral or sentimental.

It’s a filter of utility. He doesn’t give in to directionless resentment. He shuts down everything that doesn’t serve his goal. And paradoxically, that gives more weight to his presence in the game, because he shows up less — but brings more tension. He doesn’t explode. He waits. And when he acts, it’s precise, depending on how much power he’s aiming with.

Maybe that’s why Colm has fans.

Not because he’s deep, or charming, or noble — but because he’s restrained, silently dangerous, and a strategist without drama.

Some people admire that.

It’s not about likability. It’s about the coldness that unsettles and impresses…. And look, I still don’t like him.

But after thinking like that, I understand better who likes it.

And there are also those who like it for pure affective irony.

The people who love the absurd, who adopt terrible characters as mascots for pure debauchery. Colm becomes a meme, becomes an internal joke, becomes "my rotten little king" said with sarcasm - but, little by little, it sticks. Affection is born in laughter, but it grows. And when you see it, there are people doing fanart. There's headcanon. There's "and if he was different?". But I don't think they would see grace in a good Colm, that would diminish their grace.

And that's it. The rancidity became fandom.

What do I think...?

But I’m sorry — I just can’t like him.

Not even in an aesthetic way. He’s grotesque, and not in that interesting kind of way. He’s just… rough and exhausting.

If there’s anyone I ‘like’ — and I use those quotation marks very carefully — it’s Micah. And let’s be clear: not because of his actions, because he’s walking trash, but because of his personality — doubtful, unstable, annoying, cunning. He’s an uncomfortable presence, and that intrigues me.

Colm, to me, is different. He doesn’t make me reflect uncomfortably, he just makes me want to look away. But maybe that’s exactly why someone would look at him differently. Because he’s filthy, so fixated on one single thing (his gain, selfishness, war, territory, and silence), that he becomes almost symbolic. He’s evil with the bitter taste of greenish poison. And someone might find that… attractive, curious, worthy of interest and admiration.

Because it’s not just that I don’t like him. It’s that I can’t like him. And honestly? I don’t think I should — not after everything related to Kieran Duffy. Some things leave marks that time can’t erase. And that’s the weight he carries for me. What gets my attention is that, even so, some people like him. And I respect that. Truly. I think it’s important to say this. My aversion is personal, but that doesn’t mean I want to invalidate anyone who’s interested in him. It’s just that, in my view, it’s not about emotional depth or genuine empathy. It’s a different kind of connection.

Maybe what draws people to Colm is a kind of hidden elegance — a way he’s present, but not exposed. He’s that kind of character who suggests things — he doesn’t say much, doesn’t show much, and that leaves room for imagination.

He’s not a hero, nor a classic villain. He’s a silent rival antagonist, and that alone already draws attention. There’s something about characters who stand opposite to the “barely known character” that stirs people. It gives the audience a chance to explore what’s unsaid, what’s unseen.

On top of that, Colm leads the O’Driscolls — a gang of men who are, honestly, the definition of blatant violence. They’re wild, impulsive, and Colm, in the midst of that, comes across as the most composed — or at least, the quietest. That gives him an aura of command, of control in chaos, even if he doesn’t act like a beast the way the others do.

And for some people, that’s interesting: the idea of someone who unleashes monsters, but somehow still leads them…

In the end, I don’t think the “liking” of him comes from identification. It comes more from aesthetic admiration, surface-level interest, or maybe a desire to understand more about what lies behind that character who appears so little, but carries so much tension.

I honestly just think he’s different — I may not like him in any way; but the ones I truly despise are his goons (the thieves in the game). Anyway.

Why do some people find Colm O’Driscoll attractive? A strange (but honest) last analysis:

Colm O’Driscoll, as hateful as he is within the game’s story, has sparked curiosity — and even attraction — in some people within the fanbase. This might sound absurd at first to those who dislike the character, but it’s worth taking a closer look. Or rather: seeing with the eyes of someone who looks beyond the dirty, violent surface.

The image of a younger Colm, wearing that snake hat — more specifically, a coiled rattlesnake with its rattle visible — cute — brings forth a potentially powerful symbol: the snake-man. And this mythical figure, blending the danger of a venomous animal with the seduction of a silent predator, has its appeal. For those who like snakes, the fascination goes beyond appearance: there’s something about extreme patience, the venom (his regulated violent aura), the promise/wait for a precise strike, a big feast. The charm lies exactly in the contained threat.

credits for the picture

The snake-man, as an idea, is often associated with total control, the cold warmth of someone who shows no anxiety, doesn’t run, doesn’t hesitate. He observes, calculates, and only then strikes. A snake can grasp, constrict and slowly kill its prey, patiently waiting for death. Colm, even while being called brutal and animalistic due to the O’Driscolls, yet being the most silent and calculating among them, gives the impression of someone who doesn’t panic — who can hold a grudge for years like a coiled snake in the shadows, waiting for the right time.

This contained coldness, combined with the symbolic hat, creates a very specific fetish: that of the being half-human, half-snake. This fantasy (sometimes literal, sometimes symbolic) exists in kink circles and is fueled by the contrast between rational and instinctual (it’s psychological). A body that looks human but acts with the logic of a predator — charming, dangerous, dry. It’s the idea of surrendering to risk, the slippery touch, the bite that paralyzes.

That’s also why some people hesitate. Colm O’Driscoll is not a “safe” man. He doesn’t try to seem heroic, he doesn’t try to seem trustworthy. And that’s frightening — but also seductive. Because while many characters are molded to please, he simply exists. And some see in that a kind of raw, feral honesty that borders on their deepest “shadow-side” sexual fetishes.

Perhaps all of this connects to something even more unusual — a mild snake fetish, known as ophidiophilia. For some, snakes represent sensuality, dominance, and transformation. The slither, the venom, the silence before the strike… it all carries tension and fantasy. Colm, with the snake symbol on his head, firm gaze and predator posture, embodies this forbidden desire. He is the danger that lures. And sometimes, that’s enough to blur even the strongest hatred.

Your green neck scarves

Green is the sick blood that flows from the eyes when the mind no longer fits inside the head, because your brain rotted after its hanging, your body now thrown somewhere is painted green and gray—because you are dead, rotten and full of worms coming out of the exposed holes of your body. Your blood is no longer red and now it is as dark as any trace of soul inside you. There are no more bright colors. Just death.

Esquilone

“Oh, you lie my friend...and I thought Dutch preached truth.”

@n3curatu

[strljaem]

“i love you”

i was listening to saturn, sza while writing this ;)

I sat on my bed, my back pressed against the cushy pillows, a hand over my forehead, as if that would somehow contain the tidal wave of tears that had come rushing out after hours of battling with my Add Maths homework. “Saturn” by SZA played softly through my earbuds, a sweet balm on my frayed nerves. The dimly lit room offered a quiet solace, the faint glow of the streetlamp seeping through the floral curtains hanging from the window beside my bed. It was just me, the music, and the enveloping darkness—a cocoon where the world couldn’t reach me.

I closed my eyes, letting the soft melody carry me away from algebraic formulas and unending equations. The song was like a gentle lullaby, coaxing me into calm. But then, I heard a tap—a faint, rhythmic knock on my window. At first, I thought it might be part of the song, but I knew that wasn’t right; I’d listened to “Saturn” so many times this year that I knew every beat, every note, every nuance.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and saw him. Na Jaemin, my boyfriend, standing outside the window, smiling and waving at me. I almost screamed, my hand shooting to my mouth. He looked as stunning as ever, his hair styled perfectly even in the dim light, his eyes bright with mischief. His smile was the kind that could light up a room—or, in this case, a backyard—and his white t-shirt hung loosely on his broad shoulders.

I scrambled to turn off my MP3 player and slowly opened the window. “What are you doing here? How did you get up h—” I started to ask, but he cut me off with a grin.

“I climbed up,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He had that easygoing charm, the kind that could make you forget you were in trouble, even when you most definitely were.

I stared at him, my heart racing, unable to believe he was here. His presence felt like a splash of color in my otherwise monotonous night. He looked at me with those piercing eyes, the kind that made it hard to look away. Before I knew it, I was reaching out and grabbing his hands, pulling him into my room. He stumbled slightly and landed on my bed with a thump, laughing as he did. It felt surreal, having him here, in my space. I quickly closed the window, making sure no one saw him, then turned to check if the door was locked—thankfully, it was.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low. He stretched out on my bed, his gaze wandering around the room, settling on my cluttered desk with its piles of papers, pens, and my calculator.

“Had a tough night?” he asked, his voice gentle. I couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

“Yeah,” I replied, not trusting myself to say more. It was too strange, too wonderful, having him here. I tried to steady my breathing, but the way he looked at me with those warm eyes made it impossible. He leaned over and patted my head, his hand sliding down to caress my cheek.

“You’ve worked hard. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice low and intimate. My cheeks flushed, and I playfully pushed his hand away, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Thank you, i guess,” I scoffed, trying to play it cool, but my heart was racing. He laughed at my reaction, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“So, what brings you here?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from my embarrassment.

“We’re neighbours, remember?” he replied with a wink. “I wanted to spend some time with you. I’ve been so busy with dance practice lately.” As he spoke, he reached out and gently caressed my hands, his touch sending shivers through me.

The way he looked at me made it hard to stay composed. It was like a magnetic force, pulling us closer. I tried to joke to break the tension. “Why, do you want to sleep with me?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin was caught off guard for a moment, but then he flashed that dazzling smile. “Yeah, how did you know? I was thinking about that all day,” he replied, still smiling. I widened my eyes, pretending to be shocked.

“Seriously?” I said, trying to keep a straight face. He laughed, his laugh infectious and full of warmth.

“Relax, we’re not going to do anything. I’m not that kind of boy,” he said with a playful smirk, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Besides, I know how strict your parents are about you having boys in your room.”

His words made me wish I could tell him how much I wanted to kiss him right then and there, but I had to keep my composure. “Fine, since you’re already in your pajamas, it’s perfect,” I replied, pulling him down to lay beside me. He seemed taken aback by my boldness but went along with it.

“Heh, slow down, sweetheart,” he teased, but he stretched out beside me, his presence warm and comforting. We talked about everything and nothing, our words weaving into a heart-to-heart conversation as we hugged and cuddled. We said “I love you” to each other, the words like a soft echo in the quiet room.

Then, Jaemin asked, “Your parents won’t barge in tomorrow morning, will they?” His concern was genuine.

“No, I already locked the door,” I replied, feeling reassured. We settled in for the night, the warmth of his body against mine. I never thought I’d fall asleep with my boyfriend beside me, but there we were, holding each other close. I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, slow and steady, his arms around me like a protective shield.

The next morning, I was the first to wake up. I checked my phone—7 a.m. It was still early, and thank God it was Saturday. My hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night, and I was worried I might have accidentally kicked Jaemin while I slept. I tried to move without waking him, but our hands were still intertwined, and I couldn’t help but be flustered by how close we were. I glanced at Jaemin, his eyes still closed, his long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted, soft and inviting.

Before I could think about it, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, a gentle kiss that felt like a rush of warmth. He reacted instantly, pulling me closer with his hand on the back of my head, his lips parting to let my tongue explore. It was a slow, deep kiss, one that made my heart race and my body melt into his. His hand slid down to my waist, caressing it gently, and I couldn’t help but feel lost in his touch.

The sounds of our kisses filled the room, a soft symphony of passion. We lost ourselves in each other, the moment stretching into eternity. Then, I pulled away, gasping for air, laughing at how breathless we both were. Jaemin laughed too, his smile contagious.

“I didn’t expect that,” I said, my voice still breathy. His smile slowly faded, replaced by an intimate gaze that made my heart skip a beat. He pulled me back in for another kiss, his lips claiming mine with a fervor that made everything else disappear.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, his warm breath sending shivers through me. The kiss deepened, his hands moving over my back, and I knew I was in trouble—the kind of trouble I never wanted to escape from.

But then, a sharp knock on my door shattered the moment. “Y/N, are you awake? Come and have breakfast downstairs,” my mom’s voice called from the other side of the door. We both jumped, breaking apart. I felt a rush of panic, trying to keep my cool as I responded.

“Yeah, Mom, I’ll be down in a minute,” I said, my voice shaky.

“Don’t forget we have to leave in an hour,” my mom reminded me, her voice fading as she walked away. I widened my eyes, realizing I hadn’t packed for the family gathering at my aunt’s house. Jaemin looked at me, his eyes full of curiosity.

“Where are you going later?” he asked, leaning in closer.

I quickly explained, and he hummed in agreement. We sat on the bed, trying to catch our breath. Then, we remembered the kiss, and we both smiled, unable to contain our laughter.

“Thanks for the night… and…” I said, trailing off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Jaemin raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for my response.

“And… the hugs,” I finally said, bursting into laughter. He pouted, pretending to be disappointed.

“What about the…” he said in an aegyo tone, making kissy noises with his lips. I lightly smacked his arm, trying not to laugh too hard.

“I think you have to leave now, or you’ll get caught,” I said, glancing at the window. Jaemin laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later, okay? Call me when you’ve arrived at your aunt’s house,” he said, carefully opening the window. He looked outside to make sure the coast was clear, then turned back to me. I waved him goodbye, and he blew me a kiss before slipping out the window.

After he left, I closed the window and let out a sigh of relief, still remembering the night and the kiss. My mother shouted from downstairs, “Hurry up!” I panicked and ran to tidy up my room, especially the mess i’ve made on my study desk last night.

[freesia-writes]

Ch 22: Departure

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.2k

Song: Where Is My Mind? by Pixies

.

“Will I see you at the Fish Dance? I know those hips do more than I’ve seen,” Luciana said, swaying her own with a little snicker as she stood across the bar from Hunter. It was a balmy day, the warm rays of sun tempered by a gentle sea breeze, yet the slump of his shoulders remained.

“Fish Dance?” he echoed, brows lowering at the name.

“I know… Who came up with that?” she giggled with a shrug, polishing a glass as she gave Hunter a wink.

“Since it takes place immediately following the annual Fishing Derby, I suppose it would be the simplest and most natural option,” Tech observed, not taking his eyes from his datapad where it lay on the counter beside his brother. He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Although it does conjure imagery of the fish being the ones dancing, which is as humorous as it is physically impossible. Perhaps that adds to the tongue-in-cheek element…”

“Not really my scene,” Hunter interrupted, shaking his head at Luciana as Tech drifted off. 

“Aw, come on. You’ve been moping for months, Xyrgio. We all get our hearts broken sometimes. It gives us a chance to build up our love for ourselves instead of relying on receiving it from others, and we move on with more confidence and fortitude. Live and learn, baby. But don’t let it keep you down.” She put the glass down and placed a warm palm over his fist, which clenched slightly beneath her grasp. He hated how it made him feel, but was distracted when she leaned a bit closer, soft green eyes intent on his as she patted his hand. “You’re too delicious for that. So have a little fun. Find yourself again, you know? It’ll be like a breath of fresh air.”

He didn’t know what to do with that. Her life had clearly been so different from his own that it felt entirely alien. Self-love? Heartbreak? All this relational stuff wasn’t part of his engineering, and the whole ordeal with Lyra had shown him why. But still, he was expected to continue living this civilian life, to continue trying to act normal in a world that wasn’t made for him. He leaned back and rubbed his forehead. He’d thought he was doing better, losing himself in extra hunting time. He and Wrecker had completed an entire project on his cabin that expanded Omega’s room to provide her a space to work in a cozy room made of windows where she could enjoy the view. He’d cleaned the butcher shop from corner to corner and had experimented with new ways of cutting the meat. But the last few days had felt increasingly restless, and the repeated sleepless nights spent tossing and turning had given him enough brain fog that he didn’t feel like he cared much about anything anymore. 

“Alright,” he said with a sigh of surrender.

“Really?” Luciana asked, brightening considerably after a moment of utter shock.

“Why not,” he grumbled with a shrug, running a hand through his hair and ignoring Tech’s blatant stare at the side of his face. 

“Well alright!” she said, beaming at him. “It’s a date!” she exclaimed before rushing off to answer a rowdy customer at the other end.

“A curious choice in rebound options,” Tech observed, and now it was Hunter who was staring at him. 

“Rebound?” he said in disbelief.

“Most commonly used as a literal term where an item bounces back after hitting another object, usually in a sports context, ‘rebound’ is also frequently applied to relationships where an individual is still affected by the emotional distress caused by the termination of a romantic or sexual engagement. It is often characterized by unusual choices or atypical behavior.”

“That’s not–”

“It is an entirely human response, I assure you. In fact, it’s fascinatingly nuanced in the psychological sense because it reveals the various layers of one’s concept of self–”

“No, I… Nevermind.”

He felt truly lost.

* * * 

The Fishing Derby was a hit, drawing people from multiple islands to enjoy a spirited day on the beaches and seas nearby. Wrecker had joined enthusiastically, bringing Omega and Crosshair along, and as the sun set on the horizon, everyone was reclined together in one of the large seating areas on the beach outside the bar. The tables and chairs had been moved out onto the sand to clear an area for dancing beneath the string lights on the tiki patio, and additional cushions and pillows were thrown together under gazebos made of wooden frames and a light, gauzy material that fluttered gently in the breeze. 

“You nailed that big one!” Wrecker declared jubilantly, clapping Crosshair on the back so hard that his toothpick shot out of his mouth. “That was a great shot!”

“A fortunate twist of fate,” the sniper muttered, staring at his forlorn little piece of wood now nestled in the sand.

“That was pretty fun,” Omega admitted, a content smile on her face as she nursed a fruity little drink.

“We should have figured out a way to promote the Academy here,” Echo said, noting the large crowds milling all around. 

“You’ve got enough on your hands, no?” Hunter muttered, staring at the sky from his messily flopped position across a corner seat, his own liquor bottle dangling from a hand thrown over the back of the cushions. It was an uncharacteristically careless position for him, and Phee squinted slightly from her seat beside Tech.

“Enough on his hand, you mean,” came Crosshair’s little jab, quickly answered by a wadded-up paper wrapper hitting him in the face from Echo’s finished ronto wrap. 

“Only need one to kick your ass, egghead,” Echo began, suddenly cut off by a new arrival.

“Sounds like he knows my move,” Luciana announced, winking at Crosshair as she appeared from the buildings with a large pitcher and a stack of cups in her hands. She was wearing a dusty blue dress with dainty white dots that hugged her curves from her chest to her thighs, and its ruched top was framed by frilly sleeves that hung off her shoulders. Her hair was down for once, rippling in rich red waves to her collarbone where a few small gold chains dangled above her cleavage. “Now who needs a refill?”

“I thought you weren’t working today!” Wrecker said as she sat the goods down on the low table in the middle of their space and invited others to help themselves.

“I’m not! For once!” she said triumphantly, pushing her way toward Hunter’s corner and perching herself neatly right on top of one of his spread thighs. His head jerked up, surprised, and he scooted to sit upright, nudging her off his leg onto the seat beside him. Nonplussed, she poured herself a glass of the brightly-colored cocktail, then pulled her legs up onto the cushion beside her, leaning onto the backrest. 

“Make yourself at home,” Crosshair muttered, smirking as he caught sight of Tech and Phee both staring at her with unfettered curiosity.

“Thanks babe,” she returned, pursing her lips at the sniper and lifting her glass toward him. “So. How’s the week been for everyone?”

It was silent for a beat, then Echo offered something. “Got a batch graduating from the Academy tomorrow. We’ll see how many are hung over after tonight…”

Luciana laughed, casting a glance back toward the patio where the music was growing louder and the dancers were in full swing. “Yeah, any excuse to cut loose these days, eh?” 

“Hey, fishing is an important part of island life!” Wrecker exclaimed with a grin.

“No argument there!” she answered, flashing him a bright smile of her own. “Tell me all about your catches!”

He needed no encouragement, immediately launching into a blow-by-blow recollection of the day’s escapade. Luciana sipped her drink, punctuating her active listening with occasional small glances to Hunter that were filled with a warmth and subtlety that seemed reserved only for him. The conversation wore on, the group settling around her presence as she navigated effortlessly between each of them, asking thoughtful questions and genuinely delighting in their answers. 

Some eventually broke off into their own little conversations, dissolving into a contented hubbub, and Hunter was struck by the general sense of peace. Luciana was enraptured by Omega’s recount of her most recent internship, and he’d been surprised at some of the insightful suggestions the bartender offered as Omega shared her ongoing insecurities about her friend group. The music from the patio quieted to give way to the DJ’s announcement of the party “officially” starting, inviting everyone to come dance and be merry, then the persistent beat resumed, louder now as the shouts of the enthusiastic attendees accompanied it. 

“Care to dance?” Luciana asked Hunter, once Omega had turned back to Wrecker. He regarded her impassively as though trying to discern her motive, then he shook his head, leaning forward to drop his empty bottle on the table. 

“Don’t know how.” 

She caught the tiniest slur in his speech, smirking at the slight detour from his typically stoic and borderline uptight behavior. “There isn’t a ‘right’ way,” she nudged, leaning into him a bit more with a satisfied smile as he allowed it. “You deserve some fun.” Her voice was softer now, as was her fond gaze. “Consider it exercise,” she offered with a laugh, pinching his muffin top that had grown slightly after the previous months of Lyra’s savory cooking. “Then it’s a good and responsible and disciplined thing to do. Right?”

His brows dropped into a bit of a glare, then he surprised her with a laugh of his own, shaking his head. The motion combined with the pleasant buzz of the liquor sent a flurry of dizziness through him. Some of his plight was starting to make sense, if he were honest with himself. His entire life had been a heavy, burdensome plod through struggle after struggle. Now that he was free, what was keeping him from throwing caution to the wind and seeing what he’d missed? His family was thriving, happy, and safe. Things had settled into a predictable, reassuring rhythm. Perhaps he was holding too tightly to the past instead of accepting life as it was now. And he’d seen, repeatedly, where his frantic need to ensure safety and responsibility had gotten him. 

A gentle tug on his shirt brought him back to the present, as Luciana’s small fingers toyed with his hem where it was buttoned together. Her doe eyes activated a little burst of tingles in his gut and he relented, rising to his feet as she pulled him by the hand. As he stood, stretching for a moment before following her toward the patio, it felt as though he were shedding the weight of a million regrets that had haunted him for far too long, and he felt a bubbly lightness, watching her slender form weave through the crowd in front of him as he left the curious and confused glances of his family behind.

“It’s about time,” she purred, turning to face him as they reached the corner of the dance floor. She took both his hands, inviting him to join her, and he did, leaning closer. 

“What?”

“It’s about time!” she yelled, still nearly drowned out by the music. 

“For what?” Hunter said, clearly a bit foggy as she stepped in close, staggering her legs between his and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. A wave of heat rushed from his head to his toes.

“For us to have some fun!” She pressed her body against his, shifting side to side in time with the music, and he tentatively placed his own hands on her waist, still unable to shake the suspicion from his face despite the waves of pleasant buzz. “Hunter,” she said, giving him a serious look from a few inches away. Her use of his actual name, instead of the litany of pet names she typically employed, struck him to the core, and he pulled back a little to see her whole face, which was both earnest and profound. “I’m not playing games. In case it hasn’t been obvious, I think you’re amazing.” She smiled, brushing a few stray hairs out of his face before resting her hand on the back of his neck, emanating an adoration that was simultaneously confident and sheepish. “I’ve had a fat crush on you for ages. Not hiding anything, no sneaky motives, just… you’re frickin hot and I think we’d have a blast if you’d let your hair down a bit and stop holding back out of fear or duty or whatever it is. If you’re not into it, that’s alright, but if it’s just your own martyr tendencies stopping you, I think you should let go of that for just a little bit and see what life could be like.” 

He stared at her, reeling from the sheer overload of her admission, the pounding music, the cacophony of voices, the faint tipsiness, the myriad of smells punctuated by her sweet perfume, and the evocative sensation of her lithe body against his own. Closing his eyes for a moment, he sought any kind of guidance, anything that could ground him… but found none. 

“Alright Salentino,” he murmured, feeling his body loosening up at his acceptance. “Show me what I’ve been missing.” 

She beamed at him, tapped the tip of his nose, then leaned into him, losing herself in the rhythm and the pure joy of the festivities as she danced freely against him. Hunter felt fragmented for a moment, confused and frustrated, then closed his eyes too, departing from himself in an inexplicable way.

.

Author's Note: The story takes a turn, as you've seen, and I think there may be elements that seem out of character for Hunter. But I was operating under the perspective that he's just been through so much, that past failures rest so heavily on his shoulders, and that he was so betrayed/shocked/hurt when he was just thinking he could do this whole civilian life thing... That it kind of drives him to just say "F it all" in a way. Is it not a super smart or responsible response? Yes. Is he being more emotionally reactive than strategic? Yes. We've all been there, let's be honest. ;)

.

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[crehador]

mulled it over for a while and ultimately decided i'm really digging this arajin-matakara fight, because like

the whole series has set up arajin as a piece of shit fuckhead (and i LOVE that for him) but this whole lying to matakara about wanting to be a honki people thing... is like the one thing he did not actually do

i get real rambly under the cut but tl;dr the way matakara treats arajin is the way arajin treats mahoro and that is suuuch a juicy parallel to me

throughout the whole series arajin has been not at all subtly trying to get away from these fights

could he have been more direct about that with matakara? sure maybe! but matakara was really ignoring all the signs that arajin is not who he thinks he is

which is such a delicious parallel to how arajin willfully ignores all the signs that mahoro is not into him

like. matakara built this version of arajin up in his head, with all these unreasonable, unrealistic, and honestly unfair? expectations based off some past foolishness from when they were very small children. he's clinging to this version of arajin that only exists in his head and has basically shown zero evidence of existing in real life

(yes arajin shows crumbs of courage but i think the scales are tipped pretty heavily towards his I DO NOT WANT ANY PART OF THIS moments)

this fight between them was like if arajin were to blow up at mahoro like "you've been leading me on this whole time!" when obviously. lol. no she has not

she did initially! just like tiny arajin as a child had those honki people ambitions! his ambitions may have been genuine, while mahoro feigned interest in him with malicious intent, but they're same in the sense that after that initial story beat, they have consistently demonstrated that actually no what happened back then no longer applies (whether because they grew out of it, in arajin's case, or they were faking interest in the first place, in mahoro's case)

but arajin is blinded by what he wants (mahoro) and ignores the reality of mahoro snubbing him at every turn, and matakara does the same, ignoring the reality of arajin really just... being extremely reluctant to have anything at all to do with him

anyway that's the main thing i'm chewing on and loving here, but ALSO i think the story paints this parallel in such an interesting way because like

matakara is just a big sweet ouppy dog of a boy! it's so so so easy to feel sorry for him, to root for him, to think the best of him. which i still do btw, in fact this episode made me like him more than i already did

because matakara is so uwu angelboy perfect, and arajin is such a dickhead, it's easy to instinctively think oh matakara must be completely right to be hurt and arajin must have hurt him. even if that isn't the case! this doesn't make arajin any less of a dickhead, but he's a dickhead mainly for other reasons

the fact that they've been set up as the perfect epitome of the Pure Boy and the Pervy Boy tropes is just such clever framing for this parallel between them, because i imagine a lot of viewers, if told what mataakara is doing to arajin is what arajin is doing to mahoro, would be like omg wtf no my pure angel baby is nothing like that disgusting freak?

except in this case! he literally is!! which is brilliant!!! i think it adds nuance to both matakara's character and arajin's character at the same time, making it so it's not just one of them is Perfect and one of them is Wrong All The Time

what's even better is that this made sense for matakara, like his reaction breaks him out of the Pure Angel mold but doesn't feel out of character. his emotions are already running high with what happened to his brother, plus akutaro is malewife mansplain manipulating him behind the scenes, so of course he feels like he's driven towards this emotional high that leads to this blowup

the groundwork was already laid out, and it wasn't even subtle. it was right on the surface! but this episode really highlighted how matakara's way of treating arajin is so much like arajin's way of treating mahoro and how inevitable it was that things would reach this point

(there are moments, even in this episode, that are in hindsight so clearly setting up this parallel! like arajin trying to talk to mahoro during lunch, mahoro CLEARLY not interested, making viewers think ugh arajin get a clue. then matakara often IMMEDIATELY coming in to try to talk to arajin, when arajin is the one who clearly isn't interested, making viewers think boo arajin be nicer to him! like i think the show deliberately set the audience up to have those emotional reactions, and this is the moment where the rug is pulled out from under us, so to speak, where it becomes even more obvious that... wait... double standard much?)

anyway. personally my only gripe with this episode is i wished they'd done more with aniki than just pseudo-fridge him, and hope they do still do more with him in the coming eps? but kind of understandable if they don't, because it is just a one-cour show after all

the actual blowup between arajin and matakara was just. mawh, chef's kiss. perfect

[tokiro07]

As I predicted back in ch.1, after seven chapters someone has finally directly referred to Ichi as "Majo," prompting him to reply "that doesn't sound right, I'm a guy. How about...'Madan?' Call me Ichi the Madan!"

The way it's presented in Japanese, his mischievous little smile when he comes up with Madan makes it seem like he feels super clever, followed up by a huge toothy grin with a little blush while he proudly declares to the world that he's "Ichi the Madan"

In the English version, they did manage to retain that he's refuting being referred to as a woman by translating "Majo-sama" as "Lady Witch," a perfectly reasonable translation. However, while the line about Ichi being a guy remains, a new point of contention had to be invented for the dialogue to still make sense. So now, the problem with "Lady Witch" isn't just that it's feminine, it's also that it's too formal

As a feral child of the mountains, it does make sense for Ichi to reject fancy titles like Lady or Sir, and fittingly he had already asked Kumugi not to call him "Ichi-sama" earlier in the chapter, but it does still add a layer of nuance that wasn't present before while also removing a layer of nuance that was

The transition from "how about...'Madan?'" to "titles aren't my thing, but...I'm just a Witch" turns what was a moment of cleverness into a moment of humility. Worse, the pride of the following panel matches tonally with Ichi thinking he's being clever and wanting to show it off, but it's completely dissonant with him downplaying himself as someone special. If he's "just a Witch," it doesn't really make sense for him to introduce himself as "Ichi the Witch," because it makes him seem self-important despite just saying he isn't. If he's trying to avoid having a title, then "just Ichi" like he said to Kumugi would work, but no, he's declared himself "Ichi the Witch," giving himself a title when he just said he didn't want one

It's internally contradictory, and ultimately becomes a patchwork solution when inevitably another character tries to be disrespectful by calling him "Majo" without the "-sama" honorific, but Ichi is unfazed because he's only worried about correcting "Majo" to "Madan." Are they going to have that character call him "Sir Witch" and just hope it comes off as sarcastic enough that it carries an equivalent weight? That's probably what'll happen, but again, it alters the nuance of the scene

It's not a huge deal overall, I don't think it ruins the story or anything for one line to have an awkward translation here and there, but I do think it's unfair that not only are readers going to come away with different impressions of Ichi for the totally wrong reasons, but also that translator Adrienne Beck has to bend over backwards to make these things work just because some executive or marketing department person made a flippant decision with the title

It's not going to keep me from reading and enjoying the series, but it is a damn shame

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff

Masterlist

CHAPTER 5 (long chapter)

As Lando places his helmet on the table in front of Natalie and Max, the atmosphere around the breakfast table takes a shift. The intricate design and details of the helmet become the focal point, drawing the attention of both Natalie and Max.

They lean in, studying the helmet with a shared appreciation for the craftsmanship and personal touches that adorn it. The design, a reflection of Lando's personality and style, serves as a visual representation of his journey in the racing world.

Natalie, with her background in the racing industry, and Max, as a fellow driver, find a common ground in dissecting the nuances of the helmet's design. The breakfast table, once a casual meeting place, becomes a forum for their shared passion and understanding of the racing world.

“It’s the year of the rabbit, and it was also the year of the rabbit when I was born, so it just kind of made sense to do the lucky rabbit type design.” Lando explains. “What’d you think?”

“It’s sick.” Max agrees as he turns the helmet to get a better look.

“Nattie?” Lando asks when he sees her stay quiet.

“It’s cool, I like it.” She finally answers when she gets a turn to hold the helmet.

Natalie's internal struggle weighs heavily on her as she navigates her interactions with Lando. Since Suzuka, her demeanour has shifted, evident in the blunt text responses and the subtle avoidance when they arrived in Shanghai. This breakfast moment marks the first time Lando has seen her for an extended period without her disappearing.

Max's words linger in her mind, casting a shadow over her interactions with Lando. The reminder of their cuddles on the night of his first victory adds a layer of complexity to the dynamic. Natalie, consciously trying not to attach real feelings to their "fake romance," recognizes the potential for complications if she were to develop genuine emotions for Lando.

With Max excusing himself from the room due to a phone call, Lando and Natalie find themselves alone for the first time in two weeks. The lingering tension and unspoken emotions from Suzuka now simmer beneath the surface, and the air becomes charged with the weight of their unexplored dynamic.

The absence of Max, the temporary break from external influences, creates a space for a more genuine interaction between Lando and Natalie. Lando, sensing the shift in dynamics, looks at Natalie, his gaze holding a mix of curiosity and a desire for connection beyond the confines of their professional roles. Natalie, grappling with her internal conflict, meets his eyes, acknowledging the unspoken complexities that have been building between them.

“You don’t seem to be very impressed.” Lando comments as he takes the helmet from her and places it back in its bag.

“I said I like it, didn’t I?” Natalie abruptly responds, surprising both herself and Lando with her brash retort. The unexpected edge in her tone hangs in the air, leaving a moment of awkward silence between them. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit tired.”

The fatigue, both physical and emotional, seeping through her words suggests that there might be more to her abrupt response than meets the eye.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go out tonight.” Lando suggests, expressing concern about the girls' night Natalie had planned with some of the drivers' girlfriends.

“I promised Lily I’d go otherwise she’ll never get used to the other girls.” Natalie responds, citing her commitment to attend the gathering. The sense of responsibility and loyalty to Lily adds a layer of complexity to Natalie's decision.

As Natalie reaffirms her commitment to attend the girls' night for Lily's sake, Lando studies her movements with a growing frown. The weariness in Natalie's demeanour, a departure from her usual preppy self, does not go unnoticed by Lando. The concern in his expression deepens, and he realises that her tiredness and the recent change in her behaviour might be taking a toll.

“We won’t stay out late, though.” Natalie assures Lando, recognizing his concern as she sees him watching her.

“I can always come pick you girls up.” Lando suggests, offering a solution to ensure their safety and well-being.

“Don’t be silly.” Natalie brushes off his suggestion, perhaps trying to maintain a sense of independence or not wanting to inconvenience him.

The exchange reflects the nuances of their dynamic—the genuine care and concern that Lando has for Natalie versus her desire to handle things on her own terms.

- LATER THAT NIGHT -

Natalie's surroundings in the loud and pulsating club become overwhelming, the music pounding in her head, and the flashing lights causing her discomfort. Feeling disoriented, she stumbles into a bathroom stall and locks the door behind her, seeking solace and escape from the overwhelming atmosphere.

The sensory overload triggers unsettling memories, and she recalls the sensation of someone dancing against her, hands roaming. The thought makes her nauseous, and she kneels over the toilet, vomiting at the memory. The cold, sticky bathroom floor adds to the unpleasant experience.

After wiping her mouth with a piece of toilet paper, she groans and tries to gather herself. In an attempt to find a semblance of comfort, she digs around in her purse and retrieves her phone. She dials Lando's number, pressing the phone to her ear, seeking a lifeline in the midst of the chaotic environment.

The ringing on the other end echoes in the bathroom stall, and as Natalie waits for Lando to answer, the gravity of the moment hangs in the air—an urgent plea for connection and support in a situation that has left her feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable.

“Nattie?” Lando almost instantly answers, offering a welcome relief to her distress.

“Lando, I need your help.” She mumbles, her voice breaking as the tears from vomiting run down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, the urgency evident in his tone, leaping off his bed and pulling on his sneakers.

“I don’t know where Lily is. I’ve looked everywhere.” She tells him, the worry apparent in her voice.tells him.

“Where are you now?” He asks, trying to assess the situation.

“I’m in a bathroom stall. I don’t feel very well, Lando.” She admits, her voice choked as she refrains from vomiting again.

“I’m on my way. Just stay in the bathroom, okay?” He assures her, his concern translating into a sense of urgency. The gravity of the situation becomes palpable as Lando rushes to her aid, promising the support she desperately needs in that vulnerable moment.

As Natalie sits on the closed toilet seat, her head resting against the wall, fifteen minutes later, she hears someone enter the bathroom. The ambient noise of the club and the muffled conversations from outside the stall make it difficult to identify the person.

In her vulnerable state, uncertainty lingers. The anticipation of who might be entering the bathroom adds a layer of tension to the already overwhelming situation. Natalie, still reeling from the effects of the club environment, awaits a moment of clarity, hoping for the arrival of the person she's been desperately waiting for – Lando.

“Nattie?” Lando’s voice echoes.

“Lando.” She answers, her voice a mix of relief and vulnerability, as she stands up and unlocks the stall door. The door swings open, revealing Lando on the other side. Without hesitation, she instantly falls into his arms.

In the comforting embrace of Lando, Natalie finds a refuge from the chaotic atmosphere of the club. The overwhelming environment fades away as she leans into his support, finding solace in the presence of someone she trusts. The moment becomes a sanctuary, a haven within the confines of the bathroom, as Lando provides the reassurance and care she desperately needs and seeks.

“It’s OK, you’re fine. You’re fine. I’ve got you.” Lando assures her, his words a soothing balm in the midst of her distress.

“Lily.” Natalie breathes, a momentary worry for her friend surfacing.

“She’s fine. Oscar’s with her.” Lando explains, offering reassurance about Lily's well-being. The information helps alleviate a layer of concern from Natalie's shoulders. “Were you drinking anything?”

“I literally had a soda.” She responds, clarifying that her condition isn't a result of alcohol consumption.

“Come, let’s get out of here.” Lando tells her, offering his assistance.

Lando helps her out of the bathroom, guiding her through the club towards the exit. The chaotic environment of the club begins to fade as they step outside, the cool night air providing a stark contrast to the disorienting atmosphere they leave behind.

Lando lays Natalie down on his bed, the dim light of the room casting a subdued glow. Her skirt rides up her thighs, a subtle detail that goes unnoticed in the urgency of the moment. The priority is her well-being, and he positions her comfortably on the bed.

“Someone was touching me.” Natalie mumbles, her voice carrying the weight of the distressing memory, the unwanted contact leaving an unsettling mark on the night.

“Do you remember who?” Lando asks, his concern evident in his voice, as he pours her a glass of water. Natalie shakes her head in response, the memory too blurred or perhaps too traumatic to recall with clarity.

Lando takes the glass from Natalie, placing it gently on the bedside table. The soft glow of the room accentuates the concern etched on his face as he turns his attention back to her. With a gentle touch, he starts undoing her shoes, his movements deliberate and careful. Natalie watches him closely, her eyes hardly blinking, the vulnerability of the situation reflected in her gaze.

As he finishes with her shoes, Lando places them on the floor, a silent acknowledgment of the need for comfort in that moment. Natalie, feeling a mix of emotions, sits up on the bed. The room holds a quiet intimacy, a space where unspoken connections unfold beyond the scripted dynamics of their "fake dating" arrangement.

In a gesture of trust, she reaches for Lando's hands, her fingers intertwining with his. Without uttering a word, she guides his hands to her thighs, a silent plea for reassurance and understanding. Lando, sensing the unspoken vulnerability, meets her gaze, his touch becoming a source of comfort and support.

“He kept touching me here.” She explains, guiding Lando's hands to the area on her thighs where the unwanted contact occurred. “And, when I asked him to stop, he just kept his hands there.”

Lando's expression shifts from concern to shock, the weight of the revelation hitting him. The room becomes charged with a mix of emotions, and he feels a surge of protective anger for Natalie. Yet, he remains composed, recognizing the importance of being a source of support for her in this vulnerable moment.

Natalie, her eyes peering up at Lando, holds his hands firmly on her thighs as if seeking solace and reassurance. Her hands then travel up his arms, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort she finds in his touch. Natalie wraps her arms tightly around Lando, seeking solace and strength in the warmth of the embrace.

“You came for me.” She breathes, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

“I’ll always come when you call.” Lando assures her, his commitment evident in his words. He quickly removes his hands from her thighs, respecting her boundaries, and wraps them around her in a comforting embrace. “I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

Natalie pulls away from Lando, her hands cupping his face as she frowns deeply, her gaze fixed on his eyes. The room seems to hold its breath, the intensity of the moment palpable as unspoken emotions pass between them.

“I want to kiss you.” Natalie whispers, her admission hanging in the air.

“Then kiss me.” Lando whispers back, his response laced with a quiet intensity.

“I vomited, Lando, I don’t think that’s very hot.” She states, suddenly sober enough to be more aware of herself and her body.

“You’re hot no matter what.” He continues to whisper, his words carrying a genuine warmth and reassurance.

As Natalie feels her heart pounding, a mixture of uncertainty and desire, she grapples with the need to kiss Lando. Seeking reassurance or perhaps a shield against the unexpected sparks, she contemplates the excuse of being drugged. With a flutter of anticipation, her eyes shift between his ocean blue eyes, searching for answers.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer, she presses her lips to his in a moment that transcends the boundaries of their scripted relationship. Pulling him closer by his shirt, he lays on top of her. However, the sparks she hoped to avoid are unmistakably present, and the flutters in both of their stomachs reveal a connection that defies the logic of their staged dynamic.

Lando, feeling a mixture of flustered emotions and shyness, breaks the kiss and gets up. The charged atmosphere between them lingers in the room, their connection palpable even in the aftermath of the intimate moment. The unspoken tension and the sudden shift in dynamics leave a subtle air of vulnerability in the space they once shared. Lando, still flustered and recognizing the complex nature of the moment, gently communicates his reservations.

“I can't do this when you're not fully sound of mind.” Lando explains gently, a note of concern in his voice, as he covers her with a blanket.

“I'm sorry.”Natalie apologises, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability, her deepest desires laid bare in that moment.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Lando quickly assures her. “It's not that I don't want to, I just respect you too much to do anything you might regret or not even remember in the morning.”

Lando scoots in beside her under the blanket, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace.

“I need to change.” Natalie grunts, attempting to change the subject. “I can still smell the club on me.”

“I've got some spare clothes for you.” Lando informs her, a considerate gesture that reflects his caring nature.

He hastily gets up and retrieves a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from his suitcase, laying them down on the bed next to her as she sits up to meet his gaze.

“You can shower in the morning.” He adds, offering practical advice in the midst of the unfolding situation.

He looks around the room trying to figure out where to turn so she can change out of her clothes. He moves towards the window, but her reflection still persists. As Natalie struggles with the knots on her top, she calls for his help.

“Lando.” She calls out. “I need help getting out of this top. Heaven knows why I wore something with so many knots. Please, Lan.”

Lando's knees buckle slightly at her pleas. He whips around and moves to sit behind her on the bed, gently undoing the many knots that keep her shirt on her body. In a fleeting moment, Lando presses a tender kiss on her shoulder.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that tonight.” He whispers as the shirt cascades down her upper body.

Her hand reaches back, pulling Lando against her leaving his face nestled in her neck. It's not long before he presses more tender kisses against the skin of her neck, each touch eliciting a response from her as her body relaxes under his tender caresses.

“You're making it difficult to stop kissing you.” He tells her as his lips leave her skin, his saliva leaving a string connected to his lips and her neck.

“We don't have to do anything. Just kiss me, Lan.” She pleads, her desire for intimacy and connection evident in her words.

Once again, Lando's body responds to her pleas. He grabs his shirt, covering her exposed chest, and deftly pulls her into his lap, his movements both gentle and purposeful. As he unzips her skirt, she lifts herself slightly, allowing him to pull it down. His attention is momentarily diverted to the lacy black panties covering her, a detail that doesn't escape his notice. His breathing quickens as he redirects his focus to pulling the sweatpants onto her hips. His warm and reassuring touch grazes over her skin, creating a connection that transcends the physicality of the moment.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions and desires, Natalie finds herself grappling with the paradox of desperately needing Lando's touch after the distressing events at the club. Once she's fully clothed again, Lando's hands rest on her hips, and his lips quickly find their way back to her neck. She grabs his hands, intertwining her fingers with his in a silent gesture of connection.

“You make me feel safe.” She admits, her vulnerability laid bare as she rests her back against his chest. “I don't think I've ever felt this safe before.”

The confession sends a rush through Lando's heart, his feelings for her becoming more evident.

“I'll make sure no one ever touches you like that again.” Lando promises with a determination in his voice that reflects a newfound sense of protectiveness.

“You can't promise that.” She warns him, a note of realism in her words.

“I know, but I can't let that happen ever again. Not to you. Not while I'm alive.” He asserts, his commitment to her safety unwavering. Again, Natalie reaches back, gently grasping his curly hair.

“I don't deserve you. Or your protection. Never mind your affection.” She quickly tells him, guilt settling in the pit of her stomach.

“Nattie, you need to get some sleep.” Lando gently changes the subject, his concern for her well-being taking precedence. The room, filled with unspoken emotions and shared vulnerability, becomes a haven for their evolving connection, navigating the intricate balance between protection, affection, and the complexities of genuine intimacy.

- THE NEXT MORNING -

Natalie wakes to the disconcerting emptiness of the bed, the lingering warmth replaced by a noticeable chill. The room, once a cocoon of shared emotions and intimacy, now feels oddly vacant. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts, realizing that Lando is no longer beside her. The echoes of the previous night's events resurface, and a sense of solitude settles in.

With a sigh, Natalie rises from the bed and glances around the room, as if hoping to find some sign of Lando's presence. However, the reality of the empty and cold bed becomes undeniable. Determined to move forward, she gathers her belongings and makes her way back to her own hotel room.

The familiar routine of showering and changing into her uniform serves as a grounding process, a way to wash away the remnants of the night and prepare for the day ahead. Despite the emotional undercurrents, Natalie remains focused on her responsibilities and professional duties.

“She was drugged and assaulted, Dad, I have to find out who did that.” Lando explains earnestly to his father over the phone. The gravity of the situation weighs heavily in his voice, a determined resolve to seek justice evident in his words. “Even if she can’t remember anything, I won’t forget hearing the panic in her voice or seeing it in her eyes when I found her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that scared.”

“I’ll see what I can find out, but it’s not going to be cheap, son.” His dad offers a pragmatic response, acknowledging the challenging path ahead.

“I’ll pay whatever I need to. I just want to make sure this never happens to her again.” Lando asserts, his commitment to Natalie's well-being unwavering. The sincerity in his voice echoes his determination to protect her and bring those responsible to justice.

As he concludes the conversation with his father, the elevator doors open to reveal Natalie walking out, dressed in her McLaren uniform. The juxtaposition of her professional attire against the backdrop of the distressing events from the night before adds a layer of complexity to the moment. Lando, his gaze fixed on her, stands as a silent sentinel, ready to support her through the challenges that lie ahead.

“Hey, sleepy head.” Lando greets her with genuine warmth as he pulls her into a hug, the cares of the world momentarily forgotten. The embrace, a testament to their connection, carries a sense of reassurance that transcends the public setting of the hotel lobby.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” She asks as she peers up at him.

“You looked like you needed all the rest you could get.” He tells her. “How are you feeling?”

“Still not very good.” She informs him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she peers up at him. “I’m sorry I overstepped some boundaries last night.”

“Stop apologising. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Lando quickly assures her, pulling her closer to him. “Come, let’s go before we’re late.”

Lando takes the lead, guiding Natalie out of the hotel lobby and towards the waiting car. Gallantly, he opens the car door for her, a small gesture that speaks volumes about his consideration and attentiveness. With a helping hand, he ensures she's comfortably settled into the car before jogging around to the driver's side.

As he slips into the driver's seat, the subtle tension in the air doesn't escape him. Natalie shifts in her seat, unintentionally exposing more of her skin beneath the black skirt. The effect is not lost on Lando, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire tempered by the reminder that their connection, despite its genuine nature, is confined to the boundaries of a "fake relationship."

He glances at her, the internal conflict reflected in his eyes. The developing feelings he harbours for Natalie are undeniable, yet the constraints of their fabricated dynamic weigh heavily on him. The paradox of their situation—where emotions feel authentically real despite the artificial framework—creates a complex interplay between desire and restraint.

Lando clenches the steering wheel, grounding himself in the reality of the moment. Despite the unspoken connection and shared sentiments, he acknowledges the need for caution. The reminder that they're still navigating the intricacies of their "fake relationship" underscores the complexity of their evolving feelings and the delicate balance they must maintain, even as the car pulls away from the hotel, carrying them towards the day's responsibilities.

In the quiet confines of the car, Natalie wrestles with a heavy burden of guilt and shame, the weight of her actions from the night before pressing down on her conscience. The self-awareness of having overstepped boundaries looms over her, casting a shadow on the carefully crafted arrangement she shares with Lando. This internal struggle exacerbates the emotional turmoil that had unfolded in the wake of the distressing events.

She grapples with the realisation that her intentional actions, fueled by a surge of emotions and desire, stand in stark contrast to the carefully delineated boundaries of their "fake relationship." The self-imposed rules that were meant to prevent precisely this kind of emotional entanglement now feel flimsy and inadequate. Natalie understands that her actions were not influenced by the trauma of being drugged and assaulted; instead, they were deliberate choices made in the heat of the moment, even when they felt extreme.

As the car moves through the city, Natalie's gaze is fixed on the passing scenery, but her mind is entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. She grapples with the fear of jeopardising what they have, knowing that her intentional breach of boundaries threatens the fragile balance they've maintained.

Lando glances over at Natalie, who appears lost in her thoughts, a visible tension etched on her face. Sensing her inner turmoil, he offers a soft reassurance, the hum of his voice a comforting melody in the quiet confines of the car.

“You can relax, Nattie.” Lando suggests gently, his words carrying an undertone of understanding and empathy.

“It feels so silly being this embarrassed by everything I said. And, everything I did.” Natalie whispers as she turns to look at him.

“It's not silly at all.” He says, his voice carrying a warmth that seeks to alleviate her embarrassment. “We all have moments where emotions take over, especially in situations like last night. You don't need to feel ashamed. And, for what it’s worth, I wasn’t uncomfortable with anything you said or did. I was a willing participant.”

Sensing Natalie's blush and the lingering unease, Lando responds with a comforting touch. He places a hand on her exposed knee, the soft squeeze conveying a sense of reassurance and understanding. The tactile gesture seeks to bridge any emotional distance that might still exist, offering a silent affirmation of his earlier words.

The air in the car takes on a charged energy as Natalie feels Lando's hand gradually travelling further up her thigh, coming to rest just in front of her skirt's hem. Her gaze drops to his hand, studying the subtle movements, and a sense of tension intertwines with the palpable smugness emanating from him.

She bites the inside of her cheek, a conscious effort to stifle the conflicting emotions stirring within her. The rational part of her mind insists that this is all part of the show, a performance for the public eye. Yet, beneath the surface, a more visceral desire simmers, whispering a longing that transcends their scripted roles.

Deep down, Natalie finds herself yearning for a connection that surpasses the confines of their "fake relationship." The forbidden fantasy of straddling him in the McLaren and feeling his hands exploring every contour of her body ignites a subtle heat within her.

It's almost as if Lando senses the undercurrents of her thoughts, his hand daringly creeping slightly higher, fingers slipping just beneath the edge of her skirt. The atmosphere in the car becomes charged with a subtle electricity as Natalie and Lando tiptoe on the edge of desire and restraint.

“Don’t crash the car, Norris.” Natalie whispers, a teasing edge in her voice, as Lando's pinky grazes a sweet spot on her inner thigh.

“Tell me to stop.” Matching her tone, Lando responds in a low whisper.

“Lando.” She moans softly as if the whole world could hear her at that moment. “You have to stop.”

As they navigate through the track's parking lot, Lando withdraws his hand, subtly acknowledging Natalie's unspoken request for a pause in their earlier interaction. The transition is seamless as he assists her out of the car, their movements synchronised in the midst of the flashing cameras capturing their every step.

Entering the building together, Lando takes her hand once more, a silent reassurance that transcends the performative nature of their public appearances. The connection between them persists as they move through the passages, reaching an elevator where they wait side by side.

A mischievous smirk graces Natalie's face as she presses her crotch against Lando's knuckles in the crowded elevator. The subtle exchange of desire unfolds amid the bustling surroundings. Lando, glancing down at her, licks his lips, fully aware of the charged atmosphere between them.

- LATER THAT DAY -

The atmosphere in Lando's driver's room is filled with the echoes of the commentary from the garage as Natalie diligently works on her tablet. The room exudes a sense of focused anticipation, resonating with the energy of the Formula 1 world. Lando, returning after a session that showcased his skill on the track, enters the room, his body radiating heat and sweat from the demanding laps.

Spotting Natalie sitting on the massage table, engrossed in her work, he can't help but appreciate the contrast between her focused professionalism and the intensity of the racing environment. Closing the door behind him, Lando begins to strip off his race suit, the sound of the zipper punctuating the room.

The juxtaposition between Lando's physical exertion on the track and Natalie's composed demeanour creates a dynamic scene, embodying the different facets of the Formula 1 world—from the adrenaline-fueled races to the behind-the-scenes moments of preparation. As Lando sheds the remnants of the intense session, the room becomes a canvas where the lines between performance and reality blur, setting the stage for the intricate dance they navigate within the fast-paced world of Grand Prix racing.

“Excuse me, you could ask me to leave while you change.” Natalie mumbles as she avoids making eye contact, or any contact with his tanned body,  as he takes off his race suit and puts on a new, fresher one.

“But, you’re my girlfriend.” He complains and makes his way between her legs. He removes the tablet from her hands and rests her hands on his shoulders. “Seriously, are you OK?”

“I’m feeling better.” She assures him, hesitantly looking into his eyes. “And, before I dare forget. Thank you again for coming to my aid last night.”

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

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely

[velvetvexations]

i feel really selfish saying this, but i really wish there were more general trans movies with characters who aren't trans women. like, i'm really glad that they're there and there should be more, but on the other hand, its kinda all thats there? obviously there ARE movies like this, but 9 times out of 10 when there's a recommendation to go see a trans movie, its either a trans women or a character heavily implied to be a trans women there. and i'm really glad those movies are there! but i'd just wish there could be a big discussion about movie and there would be a trans man or a nonbinary person representing the community.

(this also goes for other types of media too)

i sent an ask complaining about how the majority of trans movies that the community talks mainly show trans women and i wanna take that back cause a lot of those media are shitty towards trans women. i dont think its fair to complain about that when those media are awful towards trans women. i apologize

anon of the trans ppl in media asks you can publish them! i retracted it cause im kinda emotional rn and i couldn't really remember if i was being fair or shitty

I think what you're forgetting, anon, is that while trans women are depicted badly in a lot of places - less so over the years, people mainly reference things from the previous century - there's still way more positive transfem rep than there is of anything for transmascs, and that doesn't mean transfems have it better, but as always hyper-visibility and invisibility are two sides of the same coin. It's okay for invisibility to not feel good. There should indeed be more media about transmascs.

Now I'm finally doing that. This year I made my first ever hand sewn cosplay. There are definitely mistakes, but it's pretty sturdy and I can't express the sheer sense of pride I got from wearing something I sewed myself. There are some things I wanna tweak on it, like I must have made a mistake when measuring the waistband because it's WAY too thick. But it's functional, it's accurate, and it even has a zipper! It was expensive because of course for my first ever sewing project I picked a character with a pleated skirt (you need 3x your waist in fabric and im fat which definitely adds up lmao, plus i got the fabric custom printed from a print-on-demand company) and the pleats took forever to do. But I'm so so so proud of it. I'm looking into armor crafting with EVA foam for a future cosplay, and it's intimidating but I'm really excited at the idea of working with it. I've seen so many amazing armor sets and props made with EVA foam and I can't wait to make my own. I'm thinking I'm gonna cosplay Maple from BOFURI: I Don't Want to Get Hurt, So I'll Max Out My Defense.. Then again, that might be jumping off straight into the deep end again like I did for the last cosplay since she has a GIANT shield. At least I'm sticking to her main outfit, not the one with giant angel wings lmao. I may have watched several videos on wing crafting but even I'm not brazen (or stupid) enough to try making those for only my second real cosplay lmao. Anyway this has been your regularly unscheduled cosplay info dump. Thank you for tuning in, we'll see you next time!

Ambitious! I hope it all turns out great, it sounds like a lot of big projects to have on one's plate.

My opinions are a lot more nuanced than most takes on 'shipcourse' that ive seen, but I've gathered that im generally included when people say 'proshippers dni' based on how people define it in said dnis. I'm not gonna purposefully interact with someone who obviously doesn't want me there. But that makes it frustratingly difficult to find people to follow who also believe in things like transandrophobia. It happens all too often that I find someone with great takes and go to follow them, then see that they have a dni that includes me. It especially sucks when all the other things in the dni are things like "racist" and "transphobic". I'm sorry, but I just can't see having a nuanced opinion on fiction as being on the same level as being a bigot towards others. It sucks to be put on the same level as actively hateful people because I have concerns about the normalization of censorship. I believe that when you open the doors to censoring media because of morals, you set the groundwork for things like the Hays Code. Censorship has always been disproportionately used to silence marginalized groups. I just can't get behind that, no matter how 'noble' the intentions behind it might be.

If it helps any, I'm also what one would call a pro-shipper but find the word itself beneath my dignity because I think it's ridiculous it's an argument in the first place.

[meaculpameahugeculpa]

I'm sending you an ask as a follow-up, because the other post is getting long (not that I mind, I love this conversation) (also doing the lord's work and trying to keep ask culture alive)

"They are both people. Still human. " YESYESYES a thousand times yes

It's always been like that for me too! And since my interest in philosophy in the recent years I started experimenting even more with characters' morality that adds another flavour to their humanity. I love it when characters feel human and they can be as horrible as their little hearts desire and I can explore and dissect it. It's a wonderful thing to do. This also kind of led me to get rid of the "good guys" vs "bad guys" setup in my writing, they're all just guys. And I'm having sooooo much fun.

"Honestly, I am loving this online videogame! Let's play for a long time together, for an extra long time! But the game over is coming for everyone... and that's what we all share"

In one of the first short stories I ever wrote I made this exact point with a different metaphor. It wasn't written in English, so I'm loosely paraphrasing, but it was about that feeling, when you're sitting in a car and stop at a red light. You look around, see the cars next to you, hear them blast their music, maybe you turn up your own, but eventually that light turns green and you go on, on your own. (Damn this still makes me feel things, and I wrote it over a decade ago)

Also I'm so glad you like Marci!!!! She is my baby and yeah she is absolutely whumpee-shaped, I haven't thought about her in a bit, I shall get back to her once I deem the other story finished.

And speaking of; ugh I can't wait to finish Carter's story (again). I swore to myself that this will be the last rewrite I do. (The whole thing was up for a while, but I literally just took some chapters off a few days ago, so I can fix them up). That story is my child, it's a whole toddler now, it's over two years old, I have two tattoos for it (I can't say I'm normal about it unforch) and it's the longest story I wrote that I planned out from beginning to end (it's nearing 30k words, it's a whole novella)

She's a vampire hunter, who has a bad run-in with a vampire, who's extremely vengeful and has way too much time on his hands. And she dies in the end. It's heartbreaking and I love it so much.

Hi! I am enjoying this conversation a lot too! And, also, I agree: I absolutely love this feature, the asks feature! It's a very unique characteristic, and it really makes this site stand out! Tumblr is about reblogs and asks, these two are basically the entire point of this site, haha!

"I started experimenting even more with the characters' morality that adds another flavor to their humanity."

"They're all just guys."

YES! And you know what? I think that this openness to moral nuance is essential for good whumperflies! One of my favorite dynamic is "Affectionate Hero Whumper/Villain Whumpee" (you can switch out "Hero/Villain" with any kind of good guy or gal/bad guy or gal dichotomy): I just love the contrast, the double contrast even! You have a whumpee who is probably at fault, who is probably not-the-best-person-alive™️, and you also have a character that is supposed to be -and is perceived as- the rightful party, but is abusive and immoral by definition (because that's what a whumper is, fundamentally).

But the whumper is also able to feel pity towards the whumpee at times? I am not interested in whumpers who "enjoy abusing others," I am interested in whumpers who indeed are in bad faith, abuse their victims, but are like: why would I deny them a blanket? Or why should I not comfort them when they need it? I don't like hitting people, but I also like the control/I dislike the way they make me feel not in control/I hate that they challenge my worldview/I hate that they hurt my ego/I think that's what they deserve/Insert X motivation.

Sorry for the tangent, but I just adore this type of contrast! The angst, the confusion of having the hero hit the villain, and then patch them up after? Unbeatable.

Love that metaphor! It truly is suggestive, and it also has a sort of liminal essence to it? Which I love, to be clear !

She is really cute, she just is, sorry, haha! Also, also, she is going through a lot and she needs hot chocolate NOW! Hahaha!

You should continue obsessing over this story, and over Carter! You must, to be honest, haha. You should never be normal about that character and that story, lol! Also feel free hit the DMs, or send asks about your characters, and your favorite tropes, I love ranting and I love hearing other people's rants. I'd really enjoy reading that story, I hope I'll find the time to do so!

[swordsandarms]

how would you describe the dynamic between aerys and rhaegar?? no matter what rhaegar was aerys's first and only child for a long time, and tbh i kinda love to delude myself thinking aerys loved him almost as much as he hated? him.....

Wrote about this before, but of course I can't find it, but since it's rarely given enough complexity anyways, might as well do it again.

This is the endless problem of not allowing Targaryens the right to be more than one dimensional and have complicated human feelings and Aerys is probably the sorest spot for it. A lot of people are finally backing down on the weird dehumanisation of Rhaegar, thankfully, but Aerys less so, as he is a big problem even for "Targaryen fans" - he is the sole Targaryen called fully "mad" - that can be acknowledged as that absolute sort of mentally unstable, and in a violent way that can be fully antagonistic, too - bringing that whole can of worms used against a whole 300 years worth of generations of a family, so everyone stays away.

Here comes the tired disclaimer that of course I've got to put out over and over before writing of Aerys as a mere person instead of a fairytale boogieman: he wasn't a good guy with particular virtues; he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed; he wasn't a proactive, great King, and although he spoke of great plans that sounded sound didn't put in the effort to accomplish anything; he wasn't a good father and least of all husband for most of his life, even in his better days with less excuses (well, explanation) to it. Etc etc

But he had the complexity of feelings and behaviour of a whole person! I've said it before but Aerys is one of these background characters dead before the story starts that gets TONS of interiority that adds so much nuance to this otherwise muddled portion of history, but he's not a "nice dead victim" and hence gets little attention while less "lesser" background characters get essays of made up fanon.

Aerys' desire for both successful lineage and grandeur for his House clashing with his deep personal insecurities is more of a downward spiral than his actual mental illness. (Again, something I touched on in a different post that Tumblr won't let me find) Aerys wants and fails to be anything grand, and Rhaegar being seen as great while being nothing like him is a sour spot, because if greatness is his opposition what does that mean? Of course he latches onto Viserys when it's clear he's got his character.

But what about Rhaegar? Did Aerys love him? Did Rhaegar love his father once? He was his prized heir in a positive sense for the longest of their relationship. He kept him close in detriment of his mother's claim on him (took him to Casterly Rock for a year when Joanna died). But does that necessarily say anything about love?

This is the man who would end up hurting his sister, who would be open about the intention to wish bad things upon his child, but he's also grieved these children with his sister once, he's turned to the gods humbled despite his self righteous arrogance, asking if it's him, if he can do anything to make it better.

And, in his madness, Aerys kills Brandon and Rickard for "threatening Rhaegar". Which is fascinating. I've been trying to think of whether he is trying to put Rhaegar in a worse position by it, but it doesn't work. If it were the case, he'd be glad to latch onto the accusations and make the best of it, instead of becoming the bad guy further by "protecting Rhaegar". If he weren't able to think that straight, at least his advisors would (he's got plenty of "whisperers" in his ears, we are told, and they are against Rhaegar's faction). But if they tried, but if they tried it's clear the "he threatened Rhaegar" convoluted thought won.

And I joke about the Rhaenys moment supposedly being the breaking point in Aerys and Rhaegar's relationship from his point of view (of all things) but... With these powerful families, the personal and political are in a constant clash. Yet it is quite something that political tensions are all high ("like before the Dance"), Aerys' undermining and threatening Rhaegar's position is open knowledge, and yet, what gets to Rhaegar finally is his father rejects his child - rejects family.

Was there only honour and "doing things right" in lieu of kinslaying? Was there a reason why it was hard to give up on his father and admit to himself he wasn't salvageable in any lesser ways until it's too late?

And oh, he was ever so aggravated by Rhaegar being so good at things and admired for it, but when he dies in battle... There surely must be some conspiracy, some betrayal for his shining son to be gone. Rhaegar himself wouldn't just be bested without a better explanation! Someone ought to answer for it, damnit!

[crowncrown]

i rewatched genloss episode three and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem

Rewatching this episode with the knowledge of what’s going to happen adds such a nuance to this that you can’t fully understand until you already know the ending. From the first 10 minutes Hetch repetitively tells Ranboo he’s still in control of the simulation. He says things like

“Just listen to me I’ve got everything under control”

“I’ve programmed them (the Showfall drones) to believe there’s no show going on right now”

“I’ve disabled your mask”

Even Ranboo acknowledges this, at one point exclaiming

“I don’t know! you’re the one in control!”

Ranboo has gotten very used to this routine. Do what you’re told. Try to succeed the best you can. And maybe less people will die in the process. But this times different. He’s given partial control. The veil over his eyes is lowered just enough where he’s seeing more than he’s ever seen before. But he has no control. Hetch is doing the same thing Showfall has been doing this whole time. Telling Ranboo exactly what to do to get the best show out of him.

As the episode goes on, Showfall alludes to the simulation being active as ever more and more. There’s still background music perfectly timed. The camera angles are still there. Hetch gives us a lazy excuse that he’s using it to watch Ranboo, but this is the same guy who said Ethan and Nikki are still alive and well.

But I think the most sinister thing this time around is that they’re not just feeding Ranboo the answer to the questions they throw at him. They’re feeding him a narrative. When he exclaims “why me?!” Hetch responds with no hesitation “There must be something special about you”

“It’s a show. There’s a script. You’re the hero” ***

(We will most definitely come back to this ;) )

The most CLEAR part that shows us that the simulation is alive, before of course, we are shown very obviously, is the lead up to the kill switch scene. The audio distortion times up with Charlie’s perfectly timed speech. It has its own music. So many different camera angles. Zooms. It’s the best camera work of the whole show. It’s so cinematic and that’s on PURPOSE. Showfall is winking at us through the production of this, almost teasing us at what’s to come very soon after. We should have caught this. We should have been screaming at the screen telling our beloved hero to run. But we were celebrating. This should have been our biggest sign that this is all wrong and there’s no way in hell this is right but we were CELEBRATING. Our hero had won right?!

Yet he knew subconsciously that it was all wrong. Why else would you bow at a camera that’s supposed to be turned off? Once again he’s blind. The veil is pulled fully over his eyes yet again and he is back to the puppet we’ve gotten to know all along.

His victory is nothing but a set up to add more to the cinematography of his death.

And it leads on to the scene that we all dread on every rewatch. The execution. Or the box as I like to call it (🙃) Remember that point I said we’d come back to? This scene has so many parallels it makes my head spin. Hetch reassures Ranboo less than 20 minutes before that:

“You were just doing what you needed to to survive”

“There must be something special about you”

Because he had to do what he had to do right? He was just a guy trying to survive? Or was he? Did our beloved hero really have to do the things he did? Did he betray us? It festers in our brains deciding if this man should live or die while Hetch fuels the fire.

“don’t you see there’s consequences to your own actions?!”

“We only pushed you in the right direction!”

“That was the real you! Ranboo!”

He parallels these phrases in a way that makes us question everything we think we know about him. And the final nail in the coffin hits us right in the decision making skills as he hammers in:

“The choices you made. That’s the real you. That’s what makes you a hero”

That’s. What makes you. A hero.

No valiant efforts. No conquests. Not even winning. No. This was never about being brave or bold. This was about being a pawn. An actor playing whatever part he’s told to play. “The hero” is a title only given to the unluckiest of fools. Believing they are making a difference while being tossed away the second they break script.

That’s what makes a hero.

[wolfeyedwitch]

First

Charles struggled to figure out how to open the box at first, having not worked with large packages like this before. But he figured it out.

He opened it up cautiously, afraid the vampire would pounce on him instantly and rip his face off. But nothing happened.

Curious, he peeked inside and his face went pale.

The poor thing looked absolutely wrecked. There were lots of little lines, looking like a mix between a cut and a burn. If he had to guess, they were probably made with silver. But the worst was the starving. Just the idea of starving had always made him uncomfortable, but it was worst seeing it in real life. The poor dear.

“Hey there, darling. Let’s get you out, hm?”

He did his best to lift them, and they were worryingly light. Though, honestly, what had he expected?

He set them down in the pile of pillows and bedding.

“Rest for now, dear.” He said gently, trying to be soothing.

“I’m going to go get you some food, alright? It might take awhile though. I’ll… I’ll go over the general house rules later, but for now, just know that you can go anywhere in this room and touch anything, just don’t go outside. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The vampire was still curled in on itself when the box finally moved again. It didn't have the energy to do more than hunch its shoulders when the box was opened.

The person looking down on it was a man, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a serious set to his mouth.

"Hey there, darling," he said softly as his gaze drifted over its form, no doubt cataloguing the existing wounds and considering where to add more. "Let's get you out, hm?"

It stayed limp as he reached in to grab it, unable to help and unable to flinch away. He was.... surprisingly considerate, actually. His hands didn't dig in to its healing wounds, nor did they stray into territory that would have been uncouth if it were a human woman. He merely lifted and carried it, awkwardly but carefully, to a pile of fabric a short distance away.

The pile turned out to be blankets and pillows, as it discovered when it was set down. A quite comfortable arrangement, actually.

What would it have to do to pay for such comforts?

"Rest for now, dear," the man said, tone still soft.

Dear, he called it. And darling, earlier. What strange things to call his new pet.

“I’m going to go get you some food, alright? It might take awhile though. I’ll… I’ll go over the general house rules later, but for now, just know that you can go anywhere in this room and touch anything, just don’t go outside. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The man didn't even wait for it to reply, not that it could. It merely blinked at him in bafflement as he left, his words still ringing in its ears.

Food was what it wanted to focus on, but it knew it had to focus on everything else first. It could go anywhere? Touch anything? The caveat in the statement, to stay inside, was so obvious as to be completely inane. The summer days were long and nights short, and the vampire had no intention of subjecting itself to the torment of sunlight.

This had to be a test. Tell the vampire it can go anywhere and touch anything, and see what it does. But what was the right response? Did he want it to explore, to show that it believed him? Or did he want it to stay put, to prove it would be a good pet even without direct orders? Surely the food (its empty stomach twisted painfully at the thought, its entire body longing for something to make it feel less empty) would be contingent upon making the right decision.

The vampire turned his words over in its head like worry stones, searching for any nuance and subtlety it might have missed.

He... he had called it pet names. Not the derogatory terms a creature like it deserved, but the kind of sweet little nicknames given to treasured companions, or....

It could consider that later, though. Time would show what its new owner would decide to use it for. But the endearments were probably a good sign? Or at least not a bad sign.

The vampire could maybe explore just this area, at least. It was too tired to do much more than that, anyway. It ran its hands through the blankets the man had put it on. They were so soft....

The vampire fell asleep, curled up like a kitten.