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lbxbx · 3 months ago

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Accidentally Yours 1 | JJK

Pair: Jungkook x reader

Summary: revenge never tasted that good when you decide to get back at the man - who ran you over - with the worst punishment he could ever get, and despite all the grudge, maybe some time after, the grudge will gradually turn into something else..?

Genre: e2l, biker jk, series ( a long one.), smut, fluff, angst.

Warnings: mentions of car accidents, mentions of fractured bone and hospitals, mentions of insecurities, cranky oc, mentions of drugs and money laundering.

Taglist open ‼️

Mood board 1 | Mood board 2

It’s a Tuesday night in October and it’s one of your usual work nights where your beloved routine takes place. It's nothing out of the ordinary really, it’s evening time and you had just finished creating your content and filming it.

You're standing in front of your vanity mirror massaging your face after your skincare routine, your phone buzzing a notification that your food order is ready for pickup so you rush to slip something warm on.

You weren’t someone born with a certain passion or ambitious enough to get a big degree, but you did manage to get a bachelor’s degree in accounting about seven years ago and you did get a job at a local company as a junior accountant, but it just wasn’t enough.

You’d get your paycheck and spend it only on necessities, it was enough money for you to survive, but never enough to get you the life you wanted.

You ran into a couple acquaintances a couple years ago and only three hangouts later, and you’d kill to be in their shoes.

Not only were they living the life you wanted, they owned the house you imagined having in your dreams, owned luxurious cars and hell even traveled places you’ve never even heard of before.

You thought you’d find a part time job and juggle with the one you had back then but it was impossible, and when you did the math, you’ll basically still be in debt.

Instead of taking a step forward you decided to take two steps back and just quit your job, you hated waking up early and hated the fact that you worked under someone, and the money wasn’t even worth it.

One of your friends suggested content creating, and you thought it through, you have nothing to film that people would be interested in seeing, nor that life that’s worth documenting.

“No idiot, I meant onlyfans.”

And it made you feel uneasy at first, but you remember your first night filming your very first video vividly.

You invested your last couple of hundreds of bucks and got a video camera, the shop even handed you a tripod as a “thank you for buying one of our worst cameras” and you ran back home to set it up.

And honestly the whole video was you faking an orgasm and attempting to make sounds that are supposed to get you an audience. And you proceeded to edit it into a short ten minute video and post it.

The app gave you an option on how much you could charge your audience and you chose to charge only five bucks for a subscription, you’re just testing waters.

Gotta say you weren’t really hopeful about it.

You showered that night thinking, what if this was actually it? You might have just changed your life with the stupid few minutes you just filmed of you putting on an act.

Not even 20 minutes later you head out and run back to your phone to find a SMS message from your local bank, oh my god this has to be it.

You hurriedly unlock your phone to read the message, but it was only a confirmation text that you had connected your account to this sketchy website, which made you sulk a little, but really what were you expecting.

Even when this was a little over two years ago you still remember the second you got your first subscription, and it was basically the day after your first video, and it was only 4 subscriptions ( basically twenty bucks. ) but you knew that this was just the beginning, and you knew you had to invest more into it if you were going to live the luxurious life.

And there you are, two years later, you did buy a penthouse in a luxurious neighborhood, you managed to make your first investment and bought a couple apartments that you rent out for college students, you also bought not one, but two freaking cars that are freakishly expensive.

Not to mention you now invite your friends to go hiking or traveling together.

And last but not least, your cat Coco who you adopted right away, every time you came home you look at her with heart eyes when she waits for you by your door, she curls up right by your feet and sometimes she would make failed attempts of jumping right onto you and you find it unbelievably adorable, sometimes she’d even fall asleep right by your keyboard when you’re uploading your content and she is irreplaceable.

Fuck the degree, this is the best decision you’ve ever made.

Back to now, you’re throwing on your pair of sneakers and grabbing your car keys ready to go pick up your fried chicken. “I’ll be right back Coco okay?”

Your stomach was growling you can hear it resonate through the elevator walls, you head out the security and they greet you warmly.

Not only because you’re the most humble out of all the residents, also because you’re the most generous out of them all, treating them for dinners and lunches and sometimes buying gifts for the cleaners, they adore you. Not to mention you were a generous tipper!

You head out the building to watch a young man feeling up your car, a helmet in his hand and his motor bike parked right beside yours, now you usually didn’t mind, until you see him checking out your license plate and taking pictures of your car, his hand is about to touch the door handle before you voice out. “Hey!”

As if his body was prepared, a surge of adrenaline rushes through his system and his heartbeat becomes rapid, he’s fully alert that you’re after him now and as a response for his sense of urgency or fear, he throws on his helmet and right when he’s about to get onto his bike, he bumps into your car accidentally making the alarm go on.

“Get back here.” You are seconds away from running after him but you know you won’t be able to catch up. He manages to gain his balance back onto his motor bike right away and drives it fast enough to disappear out of your sight in seconds. “Idiot.”

You take a quick spin around your car just to check on it before unlocking it and getting in and buckling up, the stupid guy is long forgotten when you hear your stomach growling again, you haven’t had a bite after breakfast this morning, so you rush to pick up your food order and go back home.

Being your own boss made a bit careless about weekends, every day was a weekend to you practically, you only waited for the weekends occasionally if you were hanging out with some of your friends.

It’s Friday and the neighborhood you live in gets quite busy on the weekend nights, people who live in this areas usually host cocktail parties and reunions on fridays, some times newlyweds rent out the near by mansions for their honeymoon and it does get a little noisy.

You were never a fan of traffic and you hated having to stay long in the car so you avoided leaving your place unless it was really urgent.

“So are you coming or not?” Your best friend Natty is on the phone, you can hardly hear her when music around her is so loud.

Your friends have decided on hitting the club to celebrate someone’s promotion but with the traffic outside it was impossible for you to leave your place.

Plus you have a schedule you have to follow and you have to post something tomorrow and you haven’t filmed the content yet, so basically you had to work tonight so you’re not going anywhere, or at least that’s what you thought.

“No Nat i’m afraid not, i have some work left to do and i’m waiting for the gate keeper to come over and wash my car.”

You can easily imagine her rolling her eyes when she speaks. “Ugh, i’ll pick you up, work can wait, you’re your own boss.”

“Enjoy your night Natty, i’ll chat about it with you tomorrow.” You hang up right away and open the app on your phone to figure out what’s the meal you’ll devour on once you’re finished.

And honestly Sushi sounds good right now, so with no second thoughts you choose the items you want and add them to your cart, before you get up onto your feet and head to your room.

The room you specifically had designed for this type of content, not like it’s that type of rooms, but accent dark walls and a large bed, with the camera set up prepared all the time on standby along with the lighting ready, and a storage compartment for your “tools” and outfits.

You’ve grown to adore this job, not only do you do it to make money, but you’ve made a great amount of online subscribers that make you love doing it just so you can have a chat with them.

You get changed and right before you hit record you made sure to hit the order button for your sushi, so by the time you’re done you’ll have your food delivered by your door.

It doesn’t take you over 30 minutes to make a clip that you know you’ll have a hard time editing ( which was basically the worst part ever. ) so you get up and make it to your shower to clean up and get into a comfy pair of pants and a sweater, it was freezing cold outside and even with your fireplace on you were still freezing.

A small pop up banner on the top of your phone screen showed notifying you that the order was ready for pickup, which you recall you asked for it to be delivered.

A few clicks and failed attempts to get it delivered it was practically impossible, so you slid on your pair of sneakers and grabbed your car keys. “I’ll be home soon Coco.” You pet her and smother her with kisses before heading out.

Looks like no matter how hard you tried avoiding leaving your house you were eventually coerced to.

The traffic was unbearable, not only was it a friday night, the holiday season was coming up in a month or even less and people couldn’t stay home even when there’s a blizzard outside.

You rush to get into your car and quickly shuffle your fingers over the buttons to heat up the seats and the steering wheel. The sushi place wasn’t that far away but why walk there when you can drive? Specially when snow was expected on the weather forecast tonight. Although walking there would’ve probably been faster.

On regular basis it would’ve been a 15 to 20 minute drive to the place but on maps it was clear enough that this ride will take at least 35 to 40 minutes.

Luckily you didn’t have to worry about the temperature of your food-

Although you tried to be positive about it but you most certainly have driver’s rage and it’s starting to piss you off that the lights turned green and people aren’t driving yet.

You would’ve flashed your lights at the cars if you were patient enough but you’re not, so you honk the horn repeatedly and you couldn’t care less if people judged you for honking this late at night.

It bothers you even more that bikers just manage to slip between the vehicles and just cross the lights that are turning orange by now and soon come to red.

“Will you come on.” You whine before unbuckling your seat belt and turning off your car, and right after you leave your car and close your door, you were seconds away to scolding the driver in front of you when suddenly a searing pain is felt on your lower half, you could quite literally hear something breaking as if your bone is tearing apart, it’s jolting inside your body and it’s hard to ignore.

As if your nervous system was on alert your hand subconsciously moves to your leg, your eyesight even wonders there wondering if you even still have your leg attached to your body, and you immediately feel nauseous and breathless, you’re pretty sure you’re about to pass out.

“Maam are you okay?”

Scratch that. You already did.

The engines of the cars and bikes ( specifically the one that ran over you ) suddenly feel far away and you no longer hear them, your eyelids feel heavy and you immediately lose consciousness.

Okay maybe it’s not that reckless of a life, on the verge of being 30 yet feeling like he hadn’t still lived his entire dreams, he insists on doing everything he wanted even if it costed him a fortune.

Of course, he wants to go explore somewhere new? He’d do it, even if he’s in debt, he knows he’d end up starving for the rest of the month, living his best life was a priority and frankly his priorities are severely off.

He wants to drive a boat? He’d do it, even when he’s positive that he’ll never own one but hey, it’ll be a fun experience. He’ll have to give up on a couple of things this month as well

Of course his friends are joining a bikers club, why not join it too? It would be great to own a bike. It took him nights to figure out what to give up next and the only option he has was his car and in his defense it made sense. With the money he can learn how to drive a motor bike and even own the newest yet coolest bike in town.

So? Of course he sells his car and gets the lessons and even owns one of the best remodeled motor bikes ever.

This bike was a legit babe magnet, his good looks helped too but the bike played a bigger role than he did, wherever he went he would get the attention, even when he washed his bike in the nearby gas station he would have girls drooling over him.

Actually one of his latest encounters progressed into having the lady as his backpack on his bike when he drove across the city to show her how fast he can go, of course he ended up in her bed

He’s a little more financially stable now after he settled for his bike, he would end up being in debt because his job doesn’t pay that well, he does photography for fun and it was initially his hobby, he doesn’t have that many costumers but when he does he gets paid well.

His obsession for luxurious expensive cars was endless, he enjoyed visiting luxurious neighborhoods just to check out the cars there, one of the recent cars he saw was the black mercedes suv that was parked in front of a skyscraper in the middle of city and it drew all his attention, and to his shock it was driven by a young lady like you, he panicked that night and quickly rushed to get onto his bike and drove away to avoid getting into trouble.

Your car was custom made to your desire with the options you wanted, so basically it is one of a kind and there are no other cars like yours.

And tonight was one of the numerous friday nights where him and his friends would go bike outside the city and to his luck he was really late, and traffic tonight was insane, so he put his helmet on and drove really fast to catch up with his people, he started gliding through traffic and slicing through the lanes, he can hear people cursing which he was used to at this point but he needed to get there like right now!

He was focused on the narrow gaps being sure to dodge the mirrors and people who were on foot, he was a really excellent driver even when there was barely a breath of space left between his bike and other cars.

His phone let out a familiar chime signaling a new message and it had caught his attention, he was aware that his phone shouldn’t make a distraction while he’s driving but when it’s his friend Taehyung sending him a different location stating that they changed their gathering point, he had to check it out.

“Fuck-“ he muttered and tried hard to focus both on the road and on his phone, when maps loaded and showed him the new spot he pinched the screen to figure out the where the alley was when suddenly he bumped onto something- or someone he wasn’t sure, his phone fell to the floor and he was close enough to fall off his bike, hearing people panicking around him he was pretty positive that he ran over a person.

He cursed on the inside and debated on whether to stop or just run, but he did eventually hit his brakes, the screech of his tires making a deafening sound, his heart sank when he saw an actual person dragged onto the floor, a lady actually.

A look of sheer panic on his face when he realizes that this is an actual accident and it’s making a really big scene amongst this entire traffic. “Ma’am are you okay? Someone call an ambulance!” Someone yells from behind and rushes past Jungkook to offer help.

People were pretty sure they heard the sound of your bones breaking even when the engines were loud but it was unmistakable, Jungkook kneels down to the ground mortified that you could probably be dead!

“Ma’am are you okay?” And to his luck at this point you completely passed out, going totally unaware of your surroundings. Which makes him panic even more.

Is it nausea hitting you or what? You’re pretty sure you’re awoken by that, you’re swallowing repeatedly when your eyes flutter open, your pupils stirred, scanning your surroundings abruptly.

Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar faces, the smell is horrific and it’s really noisy and bright around here

Your eyes feel heavy again, you blink several times unsteadily, your mind finding it hard to catch up with your body, are you paralyzed?

Your breath slowly becomes shallow when you start to panic, and you’re pretty sure you’re conscious now but you’re totally disoriented to everything.

“Ma’am, it’s okay you’re safe now, can you tell me your name?”

Your name? It takes you a few moments to piece together what your name was, this was the silliest question yet you are unable to answer.

You can talk, but you can’t remember.

Tears fogged your eyes and right when you’re about to shake your head you realize that you can’t, your neck is stabilized with a brace and something hurts when you try to move. “I don’t remember.”

Someone on the opposite corner of the room who was watching from a far almost passes out when he think he might’ve actually caused permanent damage to you.

Your tears roll down to the corner of your eyes eventually falling to your ears, you hate the fact that you’re unable to wipe your own tears.

You blink repeatedly and your heart drops when you actually see police officers above your head waiting to interrogate you.

You hear the team around you blabbering some medical terms that you find yourself totally ignorant of before you speak again. “What happened?”

“You got hit by a bike, the x ray shows that your leg is fractured and your knee was disloacted, we already put your leg in a cast and you’re likely to be given crutches, but you don’t have to worry at all, everything is going to heal with time and the right treatment, we’ll hand your folder to orthopedics when you’re out of here so you can follow up with them. As for now we need to get an MRI to help us get a clearer look of what’s going on.” He elaborated that it rarely happens when people temporarily experience memory loss but it was just a check up and you wanted to make sure you were fine too, and find out why on earth you can’t remember your own name.

Once the doctors disappear you see a familiar face hovering over your head, long dark hair covering his forehead and eyes that you cannot comprehend the feelings behind, is he someone you know?

“I’m truly sorry, i didn’t see you.” So is he the one that hit you?

“How long have i been unconscious?” You ask, your pupils still scanning his face and your surroundings, he grabs out his phone and takes a glimpse at his screen. “It’s been about four hours.”

A bunch of nurses come by to take you back down to do the scan and you know that the guy with the dark hair is still hovering around because he keeps asking if you’re going to be okay.

Once you’re prepped for the machine with a pair of earplugs the entire team leaves the room and you’re left on your own.

You know the image will take a while so you need to calm yourself down and try and relax, loud rhythmic banging is hear once the machine operates and you shut yours eyes tightly, even when you were never claustrophobic it feels like you are, it’s a little too small for your liking and it feels like you’re suffocating.

Focus on your thoughts, try and think of anything else!

Y/n, that’s right, this was your name. You slowly recall your bedroom and try and imagine what your surroundings were.

What happened and how did you end up here? Your phone, oh no your car, you were driving, something involved sushi of some sort.

Your body relaxes a little and even with the loud thumping that is loud enough to deafen anyone, you’re a little relieved to be finally able to remember something.

The scan took about an hour and it felt a lot longer than it is, you were rolled back on the bed to the emergency room and again you spot the guy with the dark hair.

You’ve seen him once, just dig a little deeper.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little hesitant, his doe eyes monitoring you from head to toe, “the doctors said the scan was perfectly fine.”

“Are you experiencing any pain?” The nurse walks closer with some meds on hand, she injects something into your catheter and moves even closer to take the brace off of your neck. “The scan went well, your neck is okay it’s just that your ribs and ankle are a little bruised, bed rest should help you heal right away.” She flashes a smile before asking. “Any pain?”

“A little, yeah.”

It seems like she injected something to reduce your pain because once you answer her you suddenly feel like you’re floating, your pain feels a little less intense and a little more distant, your breath feels a lot slower and your limbs feel extremely heavy. “I’m fine.”

You haven’t heard yourself talking but it was clear enough that you’re drugged and your thoughts were completely fogged and muddled.

“Ma’am this officer Choi and i’m officer Lee , we’re just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Sure.” You’re finally able to move your neck and turn towards the two officers who you believe were four or probably eight, you’re ready to pass out any second now.

They start asking basic questions, your name and how old you were, and what you did for living, and you outdone yourself when you said that you do your job online from home, not mentioning and giving any further details.

“Did you notice the bike approaching you?” He asks, the officer behind him writing his notes down.

“No, i didn’t see him at all.” You look at the guy with the dark hair, your eyebrows pulling together when you try and brainstorm where you saw this guy. And honestly it feels like a workout!

“Mr. Jeon ran you over with his bike and we’re still interrogating him once we hear from you, do you know him?” The officer asks. “A nearby station towed your car and Mr. Jeon gave them your address.”

Of course he did.

He’s the biker you saw checking out your car earlier this week. As if Jungkook can see how you’re processing your thoughts his eyes widen when you speak. “Yes, he’s totally after me, i saw him outside my building the other day.”

“Am not, officer she’s heavily medicated just ignore that.” Jungkook defends himself. “I’ve seen the car she drives a week ago and after i ran her over i realized that it was the same woman and the same car.”

“Mr. Jeon i’m afraid we have to take you down to the police station for further interrogation.” The second police officer puts his notes in his pockets and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Sir please listen to me, i promise i’m telling the truth, i don’t— I have no idea who she is.”

“Miss do you have anyone you can call? Like family or a friend? Mr. Jeon is the only one around and we need to take him over to the center, we just want to make sure you’ll be doing okay and safe with someone.”

“Do you have my stuff? I can’t see my keys and phone.”

“I have them with me,” Jungkook fishes out your stuff from his pockets and you scoff.

“Of course you do, now he’s stolen my phone and my keys.” You whine. “You broke my leg what else do you want?”

“For the record i was driving on the street like a normal person and you were walking, if you wanted to walk you’d do that at the sidewalk.” He arrogantly speaks while putting down your phone and keys on the stand next to you.

“And for the record, i saw the lights clearly turning red, you should’ve stopped, so not only you ran me over and broke my leg, you also crossed a red light.” You’re drowsy but you still have the power to argue, side eying the officer waiting for him to take note that this “Mr. Jeon�� is double as guilty.

“We’ll run over the CCTV and check if what you’re saying is true.” The officer grabs your phone to hand it to you, “Can you call someone to be here with you?”

“Yeah, my friend Natty, she’s the first one on my contact list” you unlock your phone and lazily open the contact list to call her, the officer proceeds to take the phone and talk to your best friend while you lay in bed and struggle to keep your eyes open. Once the officers are a little distracted and their attention is averted away from you, Mr. Jeon takes a step closer with his arms crossed. “Can you please tell them i’m innocent, i’ll do anything you want, i’ll give you money.”

“How exactly are you innocent? I’m here because of you.” Your mouth automatically moves as if it’s the only body part disconnected from your brain,

“How much do you want? I’ll give it to you cash.”

“Hmm, can’t say i’m not intrigued.” You feign thinking before he blurts out. “You’ll take the money and just leave me alone.”

“Will your money fix my leg?”

He pauses for a second trying to think of an answer but you were faster. “Then no.”

“Please, i can’t go to prison, i was never there you can’t be serious.”

“Your friend is on her way here—” the officer walks back and hands you back your phone, an alert look on his face once he realizes that Jungkook was talking to you, a little paranoid thinking he might be offended you. “In the mean time Mr. Jeon we need to have a talk with you.”

You’re not sure whether is was a nap or some sort of coma, but your mouth feels dry and you’re a little groggy, you’re entire body feels lethargic and heavy and you’re pretty sure it’s the meds they’ve been pumping inside your veins for this entire night.

You take a glance at your surroundings and you’re still in the hospital this time in a private room, you feel extremely lost since you have no idea what time it is or if it’s day time or night time, once you turn your head to the right you spot a tall man wearing a dark leather jacket and holding a helmet in his right hand and a bouquet of flower in his left hand, his hair covering his eyes and a boxy smile on his smile that widens when you acknowledge his existence finally. “I’m sorry for bothering you- how are you feeling now? Any better?”

You start muttering words that don’t form a sentence before you clear your throat and decide to switch on your brain for once. “I think you’re in the wrong room—“

He flashes you a smile before tilting his head. “Y/n, right? I was told you’re in room 613.” He puts the flowers onto your lap, adjusting them once before picking them back up. “I should probably put those in some water.”

“Do i know you?” You can’t lose your memory again, it didn’t feel very pleasant the last time.

“Actually, i’m here hoping you’d do something awfully generous for me— i know we just met, and you cannot believe how extremely shocking the news were to me, i was really worried over you, but i’m worried more over my friend Jungkook who’s detained in the police station, they think he ran you over intentionally which believe me he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s an incredible man who was really worried for your well being the whole time you were knocked out— i mean passed out. However i really wish that you.. uhm..”

“Of course he sent you, listen sir, whatever your name is—“

“Taehyung.” He anxiously bites on his nails when he can sense rejection coming up from the way you’re speaking.

“You seem just as reckless as he is,” you glance at his helmet. “So if your entire biking cult begs me to let him out, i won’t.” You sternly speak, before blinking a couple of times. “Aren’t you guys a little too old for riding bikes?”

“Y/n, please, he’s willing to do anything for you right now.” He begs again, putting his helmet onto the chair behind him and putting the flowers back onto your lap. “He promised he’ll pay your entire hospital bill and even take care of you if he needed to.”

You’re a little intrigued, not the bill’s wise, you could easily afford that. But the idea of having him to serve you and do whatever you needed does sound tempting.

“Let me think about it, i’ll call the police station if i change my mind, but for the mean time i want you to leave please.”

“I appreciate it really, thank you so much, you’re so kind and generous—“

“Just leave Taehyung.”

“You did not.” Jungkook runs his tongue against his cheek before clenching his jaw. “I will not do that if it costs me my life!”

“Do you wanna get out of here or not?” Taehyung glares at the younger one before taking a look around them. “You don’t belong here, besides it’s just a couple of months and you’ll be over with.”

Jungkook’s face falls into his palms before he sighs. “i can’t believe you suggested that.”

“I can’t believe you broke the woman’s leg and ran her over.” Taehyung shrugs.

“If it weren’t for your message i wouldn’t be here.”

“You owe me.” Concealed anger filling your voice and you’re fighting every cell in your body to just not punch him and break both his legs in return.

He shifts in his spot and scratches the back of his head, trying hard to avoid rolling his eyes. “Look i didn’t mean to—“

“Oh i know.” You feign a smile. “Of course you didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

You turn to look at the crutches sitting in the corner of the room waiting to be used. “So here’s how things are going to go, you’re going to make this up to me for breaking my leg. Every. Single. Day. Groceries, cleaning, fetching my meds, cooking, you’re going to stay up the night on standby in case i need something. And Who knows, maybe you’ll learn how to be a decent human being along the way.”

“Listen woman—“

“What he meant to say.” Taehyung laughs awkwardly taming his best friend, “he’ll do it.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to babysit her?”

“Yes.” You answer instead. “Consider this as your punishment, it’s either this or jail, maybe you’ll have your license taken away for life then.”

A defeated sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips before he shuts his eyes, fully surrendered. “Alright i’ll do it.”

“Good.” You smirk, already plotting his next task, the taste of revenge was intoxicatingly good.

139 notes · View notes

beepboopkek · 1 year ago

Text

— Strip Starchess with Jing Yuan (Female Reader)

Including: Jing Yuan cw: afab!reader, pwp but barely, slight mention of reader having a size kink, unprotected p in v, first time writing a proper fic, first time writing smut (please send help), reader is a little bashful, overall its kind of a self-projection I guess. Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear, love), no use of y/n, light bondage ( reader gets their hands tied with a t-shirt nothing too bad), safe sane and consensual w/c: 3941 (might be a little off since I made a few edits in this post) a/n: I am so sorry for this I am going to die of cringe later but I needed this out of my brain so I made my best attempt at writing. There is a lot of stuff that is bad but I do not have the energy or patience to do it so, you have been warned, this is a first-time smut from an inexperienced writer whose first language isn't english :3 hope someone out there likes this

You were bored.

Extremely bored.

Jing Yuan had promised you he’d come home on time so that the two of you could enjoy dinner together. You had something fun planned for the evening for the two of you. Something you were excited to try out.

One problem though, there were still no signs of your boyfriend’s arrival.

You sent him a few messages asking him where he was but to no avail, you knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to respond anyway.

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you turned around and were met with an apologetic soft smile on Jing Yuan’s face.

“Yu.”

“My Love.”

You huffed at him in annoyance, realising what he was trying to do. He always knew how to soften you up.

“You’re late.” You said as you watched him unstrap his boots and place them near the shoe rack before he turned to look at you.

“I apologize, I overslept in the afternoon and had to compensate as a result.” Jing Yuan gave you a pitiful look.

“Regardless, I am here now,” He walked over to where you were seated and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on your head. “And I’d love to eat what my dear has cooked for me.”

You rolled your eyes at him a little and turned towards the table again as he took his seat opposite to you. You began eating in silence while Jing Yuan served himself some of the food you’d made.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” He spoke suddenly as you focused on eating and ignoring him.

“Be like what? I didn’t do anything.” You huffed back to him again while continuing to look at your food when you suddenly heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor, you looked up, only to be met with your boyfriend’s amber eyes boring into yours.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

You grumbled something with your mouth full.

“I didn’t catch that, love.”

You gulped down your food,

“I said, play Starchess with me”

“Do we not play Starchess on a regular basis already?”

“We do, yes, but I found a new variation of the game that I thought would be fun to try out. Only if youre up for it, though.” You made eye contact with him again as his eyebrow shot up in surprise.

He leaned in on the table and rested his head on the palm of his hand as he tilted his head lazily.

“Go on.”

Your confidence and annoyance all but vanished this exact second, you really hadn’t expected him to be this interested and knowing him , he probably already has an idea simply based off of the tone of your voice.

“...Nevermind.” You looked away, blushing as Jing Yuan continued to watch in lazed amusement.

“Is it-”

“Yes it’s Strip Starchess, okay? I thought it would be fun to play.” You blurted out as your ears turned a light shade of red.

“I was going to say Blitz Starchess.”

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned back to look at Jing Yuan who was now miserably failing at holding back his laughter as his shoulders shook silently and he pressed his lips together.

“I hate you.”

Jing Yuan laughed and you pouted.

“I didn’t do anything, though?”

“You know exactly what you're doing, Yu.”

Jing Yuan smiled apologetically once again as you pouted while avoiding eye contact with him. He sighed fondly and picked up his chopsticks again.

“Strip Starchess, hm? Let’s finish dinner and begin.”

You huffed again and turned back to your food and soon enough, Jing Yuan started some casual conversation and the whole ordeal was pushed to the back of your mind.

. . .That was until after you both finished eating and cleaning up.

Shit.

You suddenly had very important things to do in your library so you quietly started walking towards it, hoping Jing Yuan had all but forgotten about your earlier conversation. Just as you were about to open the door, a familiar voice called out from behind you,

"Dear?"

You slowly turned around, trying not to look like you were caught committing a crime.

"...Yes?"

"Where would you like to play? I think the living room would be best since it is rather spacious. We can close the curtains but,"

Jing Yuan paused as he looked towards the box in his hands and back to you,

"I'm saying that while assuming that we will be taking off our clothes sooner or later. Am I wrong?"

He smiled innocently. This bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"... Fine, let's go to the living room then, I'll explain the rules to you."

Jing Yuan hummed pleasantly as he walked behind you, setting the board down onto the hard wooden flooring as the both of you sat down facing each other.

He opened up the box and set up the game and looked at you expectantly.

There was no backing out now, so you might as well give it your best.

"It's in the name, you strip when you lose a pawn."

"Strip entirely? Or just an article of clothing?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

You gave an exasperated sigh as you stared at him with the grumpiest expression you could muster.

"I'm afraid I don't, love."

He gave you a cat-like smile as he patiently waited for you to explain.

"...Only a piece of clothing. The one who has the most clothes off at the end of the game is the loser,"

You made yourself comfortable, you need your initial confidence back desperately.

"We'll play 3 games and see who wins. I won't be going easy on you."

You smiled at him mischievously as he chuckled and re-adjusted his seating position before looking right into your eyes.

"Very well then, let the games begin."

You focused your eyes on the board and played your first move, positioning the soldier pawn in front of your king 2 steps ahead.

Jing Yuan’s eyes lit up as he countered it by moving the same piece on his side. He knew exactly how you were going to play and he was going to ensure he won.

The game progressed and you eventually lost your first pawn, you sighed in annoyance at the realization as you looked up to see your boyfriend with his cat-like smile and of course, he had the most innocent look on his face.

Damnit.

You sighed reluctantly as you cursed him under your breath and removed your jacket.

“Happy?” You deadpanned at him.

“Very much so. Don’t be upset, you still have a chance to win.” He smirked lazily as he waited for you to play your turn

You were more cautious now, not letting him take any of your pawns when you realized you had a safe opening to take his pawn!

You took the chance and took his soldier with your bishop. Looking up at him in triumph.

He smiled back at you casually as he raised his hands in surrender,

“You got me there,”

You watchedn him in anticipation as your mouth watered a little, sure you’d been living together for a few months now but, nothing beat seeing Jing Yuan’s body.

He place his hand on his shoulder guard and removed it before smiling at you pleasantly again.

You blinked once.

Twice.

Scanning him to see if he removed anything else while you were day-dreaming.

Nope, nothing.

"I said one piece of clothing, your shoulder brace doesn't count as one."

"You never specified if accessories were also counted."

You huffed at him, "You never asked!"

"I don't recall having to ask, I gave you the chance to explain everything to me." He smiled innocently again.

He was right.

He knew he was and continued to play his next move.

Bastard.

Suddenly, it dawned on you that he was still in his armor and work uniform, meaning it would take at least 15 individual games of Starchess to get even the first layer off of him. Your eyes widened in realization as he looked at you and stifled his laughter.

Well, you certainly weren't in your work clothes and barely had anything on in the first place but you might have a few accessories on your person if you looked hard enough.

Two can play that game.

The game continued as you tried your best to defend your pieces from his attacks but he was too good… much to your displeasure.

By the end of the first game, Jing Yuan barely looked any different from how he was when he entered your shared home while you had to remove your own rings and piercings, putting them away in a corner neatly as to not lose them.

Jing Yuan won the first game by the rules of normal Starchess and the two of began your second round.

You were determined, but so was he.

Time passed rather quickly as you watched your boyfriend remove more accessories and you really wondered how he was able to walk or even fight with that much on his body.

You shook your head. Now's not the time for distractions.

The game progressed as you watched your pawns get taken one by one.

Rook, Bishop, a couple of soldiers and the list went on.

…You realized very late that you were going to lose.

You've never beat him in a game of starches, partially because he sneaks away your pieces but also because he's genuinely skilled at playing the game.

You were down to your last game, Jing Yuan in his shirt and pants along with some random trinkets of his uniform that you didn't even know the purpose of, you, however, were a different story.

You'd managed to get down just to your t-shirt and panties, shivering a little in both anticipation and the chill of the night.

“Do you need a blanket? You won't have anything to cover you soon enough, I'd hate to get you sick, dear.” Jing Yuan looked at you lazily.

Bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“I'm good. This is the last game and by the look of it, you've lost more pieces than I have.”

He made a content noise in the back of his throat as if agreeing with you before looking down at the board and smiling.

“I'm afraid you are correct, I admire your confidence in the face of calamity. However,”

He moved his bishop in line with your king.

“Checkmate.”

You glanced around the board, trying to find an escape route but there were none.

There was no denying it, you had lost the third game as well.

But the rules were about clothes, you looked up at him and back at yourself.

“. . . Fuck.”

You sighed, reluctantly admitting defeat.

“Alright , alright. You win the 3 games and the whole game considering you have more layers on you than I do.”

Jing Yuan smiled in amusement as he crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly,

“So, what's my reward for winning?”

You were already packing up the board as you looked at him with a huff and stood up.

“I'll let you nap in the afternoon more tomorrow, that's your reward.”

But before you could move your half naked self away, Jing Yuan moved closer and swiftly knocked your knees back so you toppled down onto him.

“Jing Yuan! I almost knocked the board on your head!”

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, scared to lose balance and plop onto the floor if he were to drop you.

“I'm interested in another reward.”

“What?”

“I'm the winner so isn't it natural I get to pick my reward? Besides, no proper terms were set for it when you explained the rules to me.”

“You little shit, you knew this was going to happen.”

“Dear, I am the divine foresight for a reason.”

He chuckled as his hands slowly moved down your torso and to the hem of your t-shirt.

He grasped the hem as he leaned into your body and spoke lowly in your ear

“Of course, if you don't want this, we could just revert to my original reward.”

His hold on you was firm but gentle, indicating that he'd let you go if you wanted him to.

“But, something about the way you're trembling in my hold tells me you don't want to stop, do you?”

Your breath was coming out in shaky puffs now. You simply looked away in embarrassment before he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the warmth of his body through the clothes he was wearing.

“Answer me.”

“. . . I don't want you to stop”

He smiled against your ears and you swear if he had a tail it would be swishing around in excitement by now.

“That wasn't so hard, was it?”

Kissing the red shell of your ear he moved your face towards him and kissed you deeply before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Now, allow me to claim my reward.”

He peppered kisses along your jaw as his hands finally, finally took your t-shirt up to your neck as you raised your arms to help him get it off.

You were down to your panties and bra now, coincidentally, you were wearing one of his favourite sets’.

His kisses continued downward, unbuckling your bra with one hand while the other appreciatively squeezed around your body.

He leaned down on your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth as his other hand tweaked with the other and you gasped, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

Your hands immediately found purchase in his soft hair as you closed your eyes and whispered his name.

Jing Yuan always , always made sure to lather extra attention to your chest, you never understood why but it had now become a sensitive spot for you.

He kissed and licked around your nipples, leaving little bites in between so that he can see them in the morning and fuck you all over again.

Deciding he'd done enough to your chest (for now) he moved his attention downwards, chuckling breathlessly at the small wet patch on your panties.

His large hand slid down as he started moving his finger up and down on your panties, making the wet patch grow bigger.

“You call me a bastard and yet have the nerve to be this wet for me, hm?”

“S-Shut up.”

You panted as your brain became fuzzy and warm, not being able to think of anything else except Jing Yuan touching you.

He smirked as he added pressure with his finger on exactly where your clit is and you gasped loudly. The fabric of your panties providing a weird but not unwelcome feeling.

“Do you think you can cum just from this alone?”

“I don't k-”

You cut yourself off with a loud moan as he pinched your clit and rubbed it.

“You don't know? Well, that's too bad. We'll just have to find out it seems, hm?”

You were gasping for air and moaning loudly at this point, thrashing and tugging at Jing Yuan’s hair like your life depended on it.

“I'm feeling nicer today, let's take this off, dear.”

He tugged at your panties and your hazy mind cleared for a second

“Jing Yuan! Don't I-”

A loud ripping sound echoed through the room as you stared in horror at the shredded remains of your panties but before you could utter a word, Jing Yuan kissed you and simultaneously continued to make circles around your clit.

You weakly slammed your fisted hands onto the hard planes of his chest but to no avail, he wasn't going to let up.

He continued flicking your clit at a faster pace before speaking into your ear.

“Be a good girl and cum for me”

You moaned as you clenched his (now crumpled) white shirt in your hands as your eyes rolled back and your orgasm flooded over your body in waves.

The general continued to make slow and gentle circles on your clit as you got down from your high, peppering your body with kisses and bites everywhere.

You were still breathing heavily when you regained your senses again.

“So, my hypothesis was correct.”

“You're gonna pay for that, Yu.”.

You said, not sure if youre referring to the torn panties or the fact that him massaging your clit was enough to get you to cum.

“Of course I will, and any other matching set you like so I can rip them all off of your body.”

His voice was so calm while speaking you'd almost think he was unaffected by the situation but that was far from the truth, sitting on his lap gave away that he was extremely hard underneath you.

He kissed you again, gently this time as he pulled back and bore his eye into yours.

“Do you want to continue?”

You didn't respond, only leaning in to kiss him before bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt and unbuttoning it.

“I'm not the only one that's going to be naked here.”

He helped you take off his whole shirt, watching you as you admired his sculpted and scarred torso.

“Turn around for me, love.”

You did as you were told, sitting in his lap with your back against his chest.

His hands suddenly came up on you again, going downwards to your pussy as he outlined your lips. Pressing gently on the soft flesh.

Your hands immediately found purchase on top of his much bigger ones, your breathing picking up again.

He inserted two fingers in you, pushing them in and out and curling them in just the right spot, hitting your already frayed nerves and stretching you open for him. Keeping the rhythm of his fingers up, slowly getting you towards the edge again when suddenly,

You were left empty as Jing Yuan retracted his hand and wiped it onto his pants as he unzipped them, before hooking both his hands under your plush thighs and lifting your slit above his cock.

“Tell me if you need a break.”

Before you could respond, he was already impaling you on his cock, pushing you down slowly as you reached back with your hands and grabbed his neck while arching your back.

“F-Fuck- too much-”

“You can take it, I know you can.”

He whispered breathlessly as he continued pushing you down until you met the base of his cock.

“There we go.”

Jing Yuan waited for you to adjust while rubbing gentle circles on your clit, watching intently as you fought to gain back your breath.

You were struggling at this point, mind in a haze at the feeling of being so full. Not knowing where to place your hands you blurted our the first coherent thought that came to your mind.

“. . .Tie my hands, please.”

Now it was the general’s turn to be surprised, you were not one to beg usually. He smiled coyly as he grabbed your discarded t-shirt and rolled it up to form a makeshift knot.

“If i was aware we were going to this tonight, I wouldve prepared more.”

You pushed your hands out together in front of you impatiently, just wanting to move but not trusting your shaking legs to carry through.

Jing Yuan kissed around your ears again started working on binding your hands immediately. Securing it as tight as he could, he tugged on it before pecking you on the cheek.

“There. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

You were fully panting now, subtly grinding yourself on his cock.

Jing yuan took it as his cue to move and hooked his hands under your thighs again before lifting you off his cock.

The split second where you were left empty was enough for you to whine. He wasn’t a cruel lover, though, he thrusted back in, filling you instantly.

He kept the tempo of fast but deep strokes and before long you could feel your second orgasm approaching.

Suddenly, there was a change as he pushed you down onto the wooden floor face first and ass up, the angle making him reach in different areas.

Your tied hands were above your head as you got rubbed on the floor like a mop cloth from his powerful thrusts. Jing Yuan bent over and draped his larger frame over your back, holding down your shaking hands with one of his own and thrusting faster.

“Come on, come for me.”

He whispered into your ear, again, reaching his other hand down to play with your clit.

And that's all it took for you to orgasm, releasing over his cock as he kept his pace.

For a few seconds, you blanked out completely, caught up in the haze of your orgasm that you didn't even notice Jing Yuan continuing,

That was until you were brought back to reality by a hit of overstimulation, tears already collecting at your lashes as the pleasure soared through your entire body.

“Y-Yu-”

“Just a little more.”

He continued rubbing fast circles over your clit and you could feel the tendrils of your third orgasm creeping up on you as you clenched around him hard.

It pierced through you just as your boyfriend finally released inside you, hot liquid filling you up and you felt so full.

Jing Yuan panted as he rested some of his body weight on you, essentially pinning you in place and having no way to move. Just the way you like it.

He grabbed your hips with both his hands as he gently thrusted a few times to get the last few seconds of pleasure in, wrecking your already overstimulated pussy.

“. . . I think my reward is incomplete.” He said after a few beats of silence.

“Absolutely not.”

Jing Yuan laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back onto his lap and rested himself against the sofa, wrapping his hands around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder.

The both of you relished in the afterglow for a bit with him still stuffed inside you, just enjoying and soaking each other’s presence, you were the first to speak.

“Horny bastard, you really piledrived me on the floor of our living room.” You laughed while pecking at his cheeks.

“Me? I’m the horny one now? You were the one that suggested this game in the first place!”

Jing Yuan feigned hurt as he tightened his hold on you, eyeing you cheekily as your ears turned red.

“I didn’t proposition sex! It was a game to-”

“To what? Play house with each other?” Jing Yuan asked in an amused tone before continuing,

“You wanted it to end like this, didn’t you?”

“Not on the goddamn floor! I’m gonna have bruises from this tomorrow, I hope you're happy.”

You pouted and held your (still bound) hands close to your chest, hearing Jing Yuan snicker and feeling his chest shake.

“I’ll give you a massage right now, on the bed this time, to make up for it”

“And then what? Escalate it into having sex again? I need to walk tomorrow, Yu.”

“You know me too well.”

You looked at him into his eyes and he simply gave you a crooked smile

“Untie my hands, we need to clean up and get to bed”

“Hmm… How about I let you go now and you let me enjoy my reward in the shower again?”

You sighed before nodding in acceptance, you weren’t going to feel your legs tomorrow.

This is the price you pay for provoking the sleeping lion.

“Horny bastard.”

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #fem!reader #god i am not your strongest soldier #i am coming up #i just need him inside me #i had to let the demons out #send help #first fic #can i even call it that #in god we trust #i hope someone finds this ok #jing yuan smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut

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captainsophiestark · 7 months ago

Text

Vigilante Book Club

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 2 Part 3

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.

Word Count: 1,562

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed heavily as the tomato I'd set on the counter and turned my back on for two seconds rolled onto the floor and went splat. Some days were just meant to be shitty, apparently.

Today had started out perfectly nice and ordinary. The sun had even been shining, which was a miracle in itself sometimes in Gotham. But then, I'd left my bag unattended at the coffee shop while grabbing my order from the counter, before returning to my table. It didn't have anything legitimately valuable in it, in terms of what the thief got, but it did have my favorite copy of my favorite book, which I'd had for the better part of a decade. All my little notes, bookmarked favorite pages, and the first edition put into print before a few typos and errors were corrected on later runs; in other words, irreplacable. And now it was gone forever.

The rest of my day had likewise been terrible, although normally mundane events might've been colored a little by the loss of my book. Now, all I wanted to do was eat something I liked and then immediately go to bed. And even that wasn't going to plan.

I huffed, setting down the knife I'd grabbed when I turned my back on the tomato and intending to replace it with some paper towels. I froze mid-turn, however, at the sound of the window in my hallway sliding open. Because of course this day hadn't ended yet.

Slowly, as quietly as possible, I turned back to the counter and picked up the knife. I knew I'd locked that window, but apparently someone had managed to just quietly and easily slide it open. That wasn't a good sign.

I crept across the kitchen, tensed and ready to run at a moment's notice as I neared the corner to the hallway. I wanted to see who or what I might be dealing with, while also being prepared to run if I needed to.

I paused at the edge of the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Finally, I mustered up the courage to slowly lean around the corner to peek into the hallway. When I did, I found someone standing much, much closer than I'd been expecting them to be.

"AH!" I screamed, jumping back while brandishing the knife out in front of me. I made it halfway across the room in one leap as the person in my house shifted backwards too.

"Shit," he swore, voice slightly distorted by the vocal modulator in his very recognizable helmet. The Red Hood. Standing in my apartment, apparently after having broken through my window.

I lowered my knife slightly and stopped in my living room, just a few steps from my kitchen. I wasn't completely relaxed, but in general, the Red Hood seemed to have a helpful, non-dangerous-if-you're-not-evil reputation. But he'd also just broken into my house.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. Red Hood held up his hands to show he was unarmed, and apparently also to answer my question: he held a familiar bag I thought I'd never see again in his hand.

"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't think anyone was here, I was planning to just drop this off and go. But I busted some black market smugglers today, and one of their lower-ranking guys had this. Seemed like something you might want back."

I barely let him get through the end of his sentence before I dropped the knife on the nearest table and rushed across the room to grab my bag. I yanked it open while it was still in Red Hood's hands, peering inside with my heart hammering in my chest. I almost collapsed on the spot when I found my book inside, looking exactly the way I'd left it.

"Oh thank goodness!" I cried. I turned back to Red Hood, still clutching my book tight. "Thank you so much for bringing this back to me! I was heartbroken when it got taken."

Red Hood just shrugged. "Glad I could help."

He started shifting back towards the door, carefully setting my bag and the rest of its contents down on the counter, but I couldn't just let him leave like that. He'd quite literally saved my day; I wanted to do something for him in return.

"Wait! Can I... offer you dinner, or something?" I asked. "I was about to start making some tacos..."

Red Hood's gaze drifted to the kitchen as mine did, landing on the pitiful start I'd made on dinner and the tomato still on the floor. I couldn't be totally sure because of the helmet, but I thought I heard him snort.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but that doesn't look anything like dinner. Maybe next time I bust some criminals I'll find a cookbook I can bring you."

I scoffed in mock-indignation, but I couldn't quite hide a smile all the same.

"I know how to cook, alright? Today's just been... a little rough. Until you brought my book back, at least!"

Red Hood chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I could help. Makes my day a lot better, too."

We shared a smile (I assumed, since I couldn't technically see his face), then I lit up as a shock of inspiration hit me.

"Oh! What if I let you borrow this book!" I cried. "It's absolutley fantastic, I promise you won't forget it. Since you knew it was important, I'm assuming you're a reader?"

He stared at me, looking a bit taken aback.

"I'm a very big reader, but... you'd actually let me borrow this?"

He gestured to the book still clutched tightly in my hand, and I whipped it up to my chest again, holding it tight to me.

"Hell no! I won't let anyone borrow this copy, ever. But I have a loaner copy I've used to get my friends invested in the story that I'd be happy to share with you. And... maybe you could come back when you're done reading it, and we could talk about it? Maybe over dinner? I promise I'm a better cook than the current state of my kitchen would suggest."

He didn't respond right away, to the point that I started to get a little nervous. Maybe he'd really wanted to leave when he'd first started heading back to the window, and didn't want anything to do with me or this conversation. Just when I started crafting something to say to let him off the hook, he finally spoke up again.

"...As long as you're sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for you."

"What? Of course I'm sure! If you're interested, I'd love someone else to talk to about my favorite book. And I'd still love to make you dinner as a thank you for bringing this back to me."

Red Hood nodded. "Okay. That'd be nice, thanks."

"Sure thing. Let me go and grab you my other copy of this book, one second."

I ducked into my bedroom, going straight to the bedside table and carefully setting down my copy of my favorite book. No way I wanted to take a single risk of anything happening to it again.

Once that book was safe, I turned to my brimming bookshelf to grab the copy for Red Hood. Only a fellow reader would understand the importance of returning the copy he brought back to me, and honestly, I couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on the story after his first read through.

I returned to the hallway and handed the book over with a smile. Red Hood took it, tucking it safely away in a deceptively large pocket in his hero suit.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll come back in... a week?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Is that enough time for you to read it?"

"Of course. I've gotta do something to fill the time I'm not running around catching book thieves."

I smiled, and I got the distinct impression that Red Hood was doing the same. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and started heading back towards the window again.

"Anyway... thanks for the book. I'll see you next week."

"See you next week! Bring your thoughts on the book, and maybe a different mask so you can actually eat dinner."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to try to force it under the hood."

"Good. And feel free to use the door instead of the window next time!"

He just waved, clearly making no commitment as he stepped out onto the fire escape. I smiled as I watched him go, waving back when he met my eyes and shut the window. I moved closer and watched him as long as I could before he disappeared over the rooftops, off into the night for whatever other vigilante stuff he had to do tonight.

I sighed, staying at the window for another moment to process the past ten minutes. Everything had started to feel like a hallicination, possibly brought on by my truly terrible day.

No matter what, though, I could reassure myself it was real with the newly-returned book on my bedside table, or the knife I'd left in my living room. Somehow, my precious copy of my favorite story had made its way back to me. And even better, I now had a date with a vigilante scheduled to address said book.

I just needed to figure out what dinner went with 'Red Hood comes over to discuss literature'.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin

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novamariestark · 4 months ago

Note

hey! i love your page, also equally in love with hank 😂

here me out: reader just starts at CPD and is super close with erin, maybe they knew each other before the reader gets the job. erin sets up the reader on a blind date because she’s been trying to get over her toxic ex and it’s not working out too great. olinsky sets up hank on a blind date at the same spot the reader is going to. both of their dates don’t show up and so the two think they are there to meet each other. they hit it off and maybe later that night erin has to stop by hank’s place to get some paperwork. he doesn’t answer the door so erin lets herself in and walks in on the reader and hank

Give Your Heart A Break - H.V.

Loved this idea so much. I hope I haven't butchered it 🤣😭

Might make a part 2 for the part where she (aka you) joins CPD

Summary: You were set up on a blind date. So was Hank. But what happens when your best friend catches you having sex with her foster dad. (hey you didn't know)

Warnings: bad smut, age gap, oral (f receiving), piv (protected) proofread but I'm still certain that a ghost edits it after I post it 🤣

Word count: 4463

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

“Come on, girl, you have to get back out there,” you friend of 10 year tells you. Yeah, maybe you did, but you sure as hell didn’t feel confident enough to do so.

Not after him.

Your ex wasn’t just toxic, he was the kind of poison that seeped into every part of your life. He made you second-guess everything—what you wore, how you laughed, even how you felt about yourself. It took you too long to realize that his “love” came with a price: your self-worth. And even now, 11 months after leaving him, you still felt the weight of his voice in the back of your mind, telling you no one else would want you.

Maybe they wouldn’t. Sometimes you stare into the mirror and just think that maybe he was right.

You tug at the sleeve of your jacket, fidgeting with the worn fabric like it might somehow make your nerves chill the fuck out. The mirror is still in front of you, the reflection of your own lifeless eyes staring back. You hate what you see. The way your shoulders seem to slump a little lower than they used to, the way your eyes don’t light up the way they used to when you laughed. If you even laugh anymore. It’s like you’ve been trying to fit into a mold he made, and now there’s just this empty version of yourself left behind.

But Erin... Erin wasn’t going to let you disappear into yourself. She refused to let you wallow, even if that meant dragging you back into the dating world so suddenly. You were sure you heard her wrong when she said that she had set you up on a blind date.

“I don’t know, Erin,” you mutter, still fiddling with the sleeve. Your eyes flick to her reflection in the mirror, her expression soft but stubborn to get you out of your little comfort zone and back in the world of the living. The look that says she’s not giving up on you, no matter how hard you try to push her away.

Her hand finds your shoulder, squeezing gently. “What if he’s not like that?” she says, reading the fear in your silence. “What if he’s good for you? What if he makes you smile again?”

The words hit you hard, and not in the comforting way Erin probably meant. What if—you hate those words. Those two words are a double-edged sword. They offer hope but never any certainty. What if he’s just like the last one? What if you’re not ready? What if you’re never ready?

You take a deep breath, “And what if I’m not enough?” The words slip out before you can stop them. You feel exposed, vulnerable.

Erin frowns, stepping in front of you, her hands finding yours. “You are enough. More than enough. And you deserve more than what that asshole put you through. Way more.” She tilts her head, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. “But you’re never going to know until you start living again.”

She’s right, and you know it. But knowing it and believing it are two very different things.

“I guess…” you start, but your voice cracks slightly. “I guess I just don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

“I get that,” Erin replies, her voice softer now. “But staying stuck in the past isn’t going to fix anything. You’ve got to take the leap sometime, right?”

“Fine,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’ll go.”

Erin’s smile is immediate, like she knew you’d say yes all along. “You won’t regret this, I promise.” Like you could ever say no to her. She’s been your rock.

Every minute from that moment felt like an hour. You’re know staring into your closet, feeling like you’ve got nothing to wear. Everything you own seems to either scream “I’m still recovering” or “I’m so not ready for this.” Before you know it, you bed looks like a garage sale. You’ve tried on thirteen outfits already, and each one feels more wrong than the last.

“Are you still in there?” Erin’s voice calls from the other side of your bedroom door. “Do you need some help?”

You sigh, slumping onto the edge of your bed. “I’m not sure what to wear. Nothing feels right.”

The door swings open, and Erin steps in, her eyes scanning the mess of clothes, amusement dancing on her smile. “Let me see what you’ve got.”

You rise and let Erin sift through the chaos on your bed.. She always seems so effortlessly put together. You, on the other hand, feel like you were just stumbling your way through life.

“Okay, let’s start with this,” Erin says, pulling out a sleek, navy dress from the pile. “This is simple but elegant. It’s not too flashy, but it’s definitely date-worthy.”

You eye the dress sceptically. “Is it too much? I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

Erin gives you a reassuring smile. “Trust me, it’s perfect. It’s all about how you feel in it. Confidence is key, and this dress will definitely help with that.” You take the dress from her and head to the bathroom to change. The moment you slip it on, for the first time today, you don’t feel like a total disaster. The dress skims your figure comfortably, and you can’t help but notice that it makes you look—dare you say it—almost radiant.

When you emerge, Erin’s eyes light up. “See? I told you it would look amazing.”

You spin around slightly with a little giggle slipping from your lips, feeling the soft fabric sway. “It does feel nice. Thanks for helping.”

“You look great. But let’s not forget the finishing touches.” She rummages through your jewellery box and selects a pair of simple, elegant earrings that match your dress.

After you put them on, she leads you to the mirror, “See, a beautiful Goddess and it’s quite rude to keep it to yourself” You laugh at her comment and glance at yourself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, you actually like what you see. The dress, the earrings, the way your hair falls in perfect waves. You still have a bit of anxiety gnawing at you, but the reflection staring back at you reminded you of who you used to be, and not that hollow robot.

“Alright,” Erin says, giving you a final once-over. “You’re all set. You look amazing. Remember, tonight is just about having a good time. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Erin. I really appreciate all this.”

Erin gives you a hug, her support tangible. “Anytime. Now go out there and show him what you’re made of.”

When you showed up at the restaurant, a woman asked if you had a reservation and you gave her your name. She seats you at a table for two, and you wait.

And wait.

Your date didn’t show up. Classic. You should have known it would be a disaster. In fact. You did.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, trying to look like you weren’t bothered. You kept checking your phone, hoping for a text or a call that never came. The couple at the table across from you seemed to mock your attempts to stay optimistic. You had just started mentally preparing yourself for the ride home when a guy approached your table.

“Sorry I’m late, they seemed to have seated me at the wrong table,” he chuckled nervously, “I thought you stood me up,”

You matched his nervous chuckle, “I thought you had done the same,”

It was a bit awkward at first—two strangers just being thrown together. But you quickly fell into conversation, and you began to relax. You talked about everything and the more you talked, the easier it became.

As you talked, you noticed how effortlessly he made you feel at ease. His stories about work and his mild self-deprecating humor were refreshing. It was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in the toxic, stifling environment of your previous relationship. The way he listened, really listened, made you feel valued. You hadn’t realized how much you missed that.

You laughed more tonight than you had in months. And the more you laughed, the more you felt like yourself again. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

By the end of the night, when you were getting kicked out, you realised that you had literally talked the night away. Hank suggested you continue at his place. The offer was casual, and there was nothing overtly romantic about it—just a simple invitation to continue the conversation. You hesitated at first, but something about him made you feel safe. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, like he genuinely wanted to get to know you better. Or maybe it was the comfort you felt in his presence, something rare and precious.

You found yourself saying yes, almost against your better judgment. You felt a flutter of excitement—something else you haven’t felt in a while.

As you walked to his place, the cold air kissing your cheeks, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something. Something that could fill the emptiness that had been carved into your soul. And maybe, just maybe, something that could make you feel alive again.

Hank’s house was cozy and filled with the faint scent of pine, probably from his cologne. You took off your coat and he offered you a drink, which you accepted—a glass of wine to calm your nerves. You sat on the couch, the cushions sinking under your weight, and he sat next to you.

The conversation flowed easily as you sipped your wine. His eyes never left yours, and you found yourself leaning closer without even realizing it.

The TV played in the background, a dull hum of noise that was easy to ignore. You talked about everything from your favorite movies to your deepest fears. Hank spoke about his passion for his job, how it consumed him, but also gave him a sense of purpose. You spoke about your love for art, how it was your escape from the real world.

As the night grew late, the tension between you thickened like the air before a storm. You felt it in the way your leg brushed against his, in the way your fingers hovered just a little too long over his hand when you laughed at his jokes. You were aware of every inch of space that existed between you, and every part of you craved to fill it.

But did he feel the same?

You took a sip of your wine, the liquid warmth spreading through your chest and down to your fingertips. Hank’s hand reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face. His touch was gentle, tender, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You placed your hand over his, looking into his eyes, not really wanting his touch to leave.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” he said, his voice a soft rumble.

You let out a breathy laugh "It's been a long time since anyone's said that... well, apart from my best friend" you say referring to Erin. Hank's gaze remained on you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He leaned in closer, his hand still resting gently on yours.

"That's a damn crime," Hank murmured, his eyes searching yours. His thumb began to trace lazy circles on the back of your hand, sending a wave of heat through you. You hadn't felt this way in so long— seen, appreciated, desired. Your cheeks flushed, and you felt your heart begin to race, your palms soaked as though there was group of rivers flowing across them.

Hank leaned in closer, his breath a warm whisper against your skin. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for consent. The question was so raw, so genuine, it melted away the last of your doubt. You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips met yours. It was a kiss filled with the promise of something more, a gentle reminder that you were still here, still feeling.

You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you melted into him. The kiss grew more urgent, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. It was like your bodies were trying to remember a dance they hadn't performed in a long time, but the rhythm came back so naturally.

His hands slid down your back, caressing your curves, and you gasped into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. You pull away for a moment, panting, looking into his eyes that are filled with a hunger that matches your own. "I...I need to tell you something," you manage to say between breaths.

"What is it?" Hank asks, his voice thick with need, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You take a deep breath, feeling a little embarrassed of what you were about to say, "It's been a while for me. And I'm a little... nervous."

Hank's expression softens, and he cups your face in his hands. "It's okay," he whispers, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "We don't have to if you don't -"

"I want to"

The words came out in a rush, surprising both of you. You hadn’t realized how badly you wanted this—how much you needed it. Hank’s eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you were unsure.

"You're sure?" he asks, his voice hoarse. You nod, and the next moment his mouth is on yours again, more insistent than before. You feel the couch dip as he shifts closer, his body pressing against yours. His hands move to the zipper of your dress, and you let him, your own trembling hands working on the buttons of his shirt.

As the fabric falls away, you can feel the heat of his skin, and you realize that maybe—just maybe—this is what you’ve been waiting for. This connection, this raw, primal need that is so much more than just lust. It’s like he’s peeling back the layers of doubt and fear that you’ve wrapped around yourself, and you’re letting him in, even if it’s just for tonight.

Hank’s hands are sure, yet gentle, as he helps you out of the dress, his eyes never leaving yours. You stand before him in your underwear, feeling a mix of vulnerability and excitement. His gaze sweeps over you, and you can see the desire in his eyes. You remember what it’s like to be wanted, and it sends confidence soaring through you. Before your mind can talk you out of it, you straddle his lap, your knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of him.

His hands glide up your thighs, sending a tingling sensation through your body. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace the edges of your underwear, and you lean in to kiss him again, deep and needy. His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra that surprises you. It falls away, and his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. A moan escapes your lips, and he swallows it with his own.

The fabric of his pants is rough against the thin material of your panties as you rock your hips into him. His hands slide down to your ass, lifting you slightly so you can feel him pressing against you. The anticipation is unbearable, a sweet agony that makes you whimper. He kisses you harder, his tongue delving into your mouth as he rolls you onto your back on the couch. His body follows, covering yours, his weight pressing you into the cushions.

He kisses down your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone, making you arch your back. His hand slides under your panties, his thumb circling your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You grip his shoulders, your nails digging in as he teases you, bringing you closer to the edge.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and you can feel his own arousal pressing against you, demanding more. You reach down and unbuckle his belt, pulling his zipper down. He shifts, standing to shed his pants, and you see his erection, full and thick. Your own need spikes, and you can’t help but reach out and touch him, your hand wrapping around his length. He groans, his eyes closing briefly in pleasure.

You kiss him again, your hips grinding against him, desperate for relief. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls it down, leaving you bare to him. His eyes rove over your body, drinking in the sight of you. You feel exposed, but also powerful. He kisses his way down your body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. When he reaches your core, he looks up, making eye contact as he runs his tongue along your folds. You gasp, your body jolting.

He tastes you, exploring you with a hunger that's both thrilling and terrifying. Your fingers reach down to rest on his head, guiding him closer as he teases your clit. Your fingers definitely didn’t make you feel this good. Your legs quiver, and you’re so close, so close to letting go. But then he stops, leaving you trembling on the edge.

Hank kisses his way back up your body, his eyes never leaving yours. “Ready?” he asks, his voice gruff with desire. You nod, unable to form words. He reaches into his nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it open with his teeth. The simple action is so erotic that you can’t help but bite your bottom lip.

He rolls it on and then, finally, he’s inside you. You gasp as he fills you, the feeling of fullness and the stretch of his cock making you feel alive again. It’s been so long, and it hurts a bit, but you don’t care. You wrap your legs around him, urging him deeper, and he obliges, his strokes slow and steady, as if he’s savoring every moment.

You’re both panting, your breaths mingling in the stillness of his living room. The only sounds are the slap of skin on skin and the occasional groan that escapes your lips. His eyes never leave yours.

Hank’s movements become more urgent, his thrusts deeper. You can feel the tension building, a coil tightening in your stomach. You’re so close, so incredibly close. He must feel it too, because his strokes become more deliberate, his breathing more ragged. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he drives into you.

"What the hell?!" a voice yelled through the silence. The two of you stopped and looked to where the voice come from.

Your eyes widened when you saw your best friend standing there. You barely registered the words spilling out of your mouth as you screamed, "Oh my God, Erin, what are you doing here?" Every muscle in your body tensed, and instinctively, you grabbed the couch cushion, trying to cover yourself, but it was pointless.

You glanced at Hank, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but his expression mirrored yours: wide-eyed, frozen, and utterly shocked. Erin’s voice cut through the fog in your brain, sharp with anger and disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing, Y/N," she spat. "What the fuck are you doing with him?"

The words felt like a slap, and you scrambled for some words, "You're the one who set the date up... you know, to bring me back to the world of the living?"

Then Erin said something that confused the shit out of you, "He's not the one I set you up with."

Wait, what? Confusion hit you like a truck. You could barely get the words out. "He's not?" Your voice cracked. You were suddenly hyper-aware of Hank hovering over you, both of you too stunned to move. He was staring at you for answers, but you had none. What is happening?

Then, Erin’s words sliced through the air: "She's my best friend, Hank." She glared at you, fury and disbelief simmering just beneath the surface. "And he is my foster dad."

The words hung in the air like a bomb, and your brain couldn’t process them fast enough. Her foster dad? Your stomach lurched, and you gulped, staring at Erin in shock. "Erin, I'm sorry," you stammered, barely able to get the words out. "I-I didn't know, we were both there for blind dates. I thought you'd set us up." You sounded pathetic, you felt pathetic. Your heart pounded in your chest as you silently begged for her to understand.

Erin’s focus shifted to Hank, who was just as lost as you. "You went on a blind date?" she asked him, her tone still simmering with disbelief.

"Alvin's idea," Hank muttered. His voice was soft now, he couldn’t believe the situation any more than you could, "Erin, I'm sorry."

You turned back to Erin, your stomach twisting painfully. "Please don't hate me," you begged. Erin was everything—your best friend, your anchor, the person who’d always been there for you through thick and thin. If you lost her over this... you don’t know what you’d do.

And then, in the most unexpected turn of events, Erin’s face softened. A small laugh bubbled out of her, and before you could understand what was happening, she was full-on laughing, wiping a tear from her eye.

Your jaw dropped as you stared at her, stunned. "What?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you clung to the cushion for dear life.

Erin shook her head, still chuckling. "Oh my God, Y/N. I could never hate you." Her voice was lighter now, her anger gone. "I just... wasn’t expecting this. I’m going to have nightmares," she said, rubbing her temples.

Relief rushed through you, "You didn’t tell him about you-know-who, did you?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice. Because she knew full well that Hank would track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine.

You quickly shook your head, "No," you answered quietly, praying Hank wouldn’t press for details.

Hank, still utterly confused, looked between the two of you. "You know who?" His brow furrowed, suspicion creeping into his voice.

You shot Erin a quick glance before turning back to Hank, forcing a tight smile. "No one," you said quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. Please let this be the end of it.

“Well… uh… I’m going to head out. Um, you two enjoy the rest of your night,” she said as she headed towards the door, “Hank, you better be good to her."

Hank straightened up slightly, "Erin, I would never—"

But Erin cut him off with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, well, just remember," she said, her voice turning playful but with a subtle threat lurking underneath, "I know where you live."

As soon as the door clicked shut, the silence in the room felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. You and Hank were alone again.

"I guess we should talk," Hank said finally, breaking the silence. You nodded, still trying to get your breathing under control. "But not now," he added, giving you a small, sexy smile, "Now, I think we should finish what we started."

Hank leaned down and captured your mouth in another deep kiss. You kissed him back with the same intensity, your arms wrapping around his neck, your legs locking around his waist.

The shock of Erin’s interruption had passed, and the heat between the two of you roared back to life. Hank began to move again, his hips rocking into yours. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed deeper inside you, filling you up so good, that it sent your thoughts spiraling out of control.

Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he moved above you, his breath hot against your neck. His mouth found your ear, and he whispered, “You’re mine tonight, baby.” The possessiveness in his voice went straight to your core and you let out a moan. You could feel his smirk on your neck as he nipped and sucked at the soft flesh.

You arched your back, urging him deeper, and he responded with a groan, his pace quickening. The couch creaked under your weight, accompanied by your gasps and his grunts. You could feel your climax building, a pressure that grew more intense with every stroke.

“Harder,” you breathed, and Hank complied, his hands gripping your hips as he pounded into you, the sound of your flesh slapping together filling the room. You were lost in the sensation, the delicious friction of his cock rubbing against your g-spot driving you wild. You threw your head back as Hank's hand found your sensitive bundle of nerves and began to rub it in time with his thrusts, "fuck" you had not felt this good in a while.

And then it hit you. That sweet, powerful release that had been building. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, and you screamed. The pleasure was so intense that you couldn't contain it, and Hank groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him. He thrust into you one last time, his own climax following yours.

You both collapsed into the couch cushions, breathless and spent. Hank kissed the top of your head, before he got up to get a cloth to clean you up and some spare clothes. You both sat down to watch the tv. You snuggled up to him and before you knew it, you fell asleep in his arms.

Hank carries you to his bed and covers you up and as he starts to pull away, you whisper, "Stay," your voice thick with sleepiness.

He pauses, looking down at you with a soft smile. "You sure?" he asks.

You nod, feeling a sudden, desperate need for his warmth beside you. "Yeah," you murmur, your eyes already drifting shut.

Hank pulls back the covers and slides in beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest. You fit perfectly, as though you were two puzzle pieces finally coming together. His heart beats a steady rhythm against your back, and you feel your own heart rate slow to match it. He kisses the nape of your neck, his breath warm and comforting. You snuggle closer, feeling safe in his arms.

Thought this song went well with this.

#female reader #reader insert #hank voight x reader #hank voight #chicago pd #hank voight x you

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dreamofbetterthings · 9 months ago

Text

No Regrets Noah Sebastian x Reader

Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

VIP: Noah Sebastian

Band: Ban Omens

Summary: There's no such thing as a "calm" Halloween night, especially when hidden feelings are involved.

Warnings: It's gonna be a little spicy, but not full-on smut. Still, this is 18+ due to descriptive language and some curse words scattered about, so minors, please DNI.

A/N

Hello everybody! I'm sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth. I have an abundance of things going on in my personal life and I am trying my hardest to get through it all. I know in the last post I said chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time was coming soon. That wasn't a lie. It is still in the process of being edited. I'm working on a new uploading schedule for you guys, and a page redesign as well so if everything pans out the way I'm hoping, it will be put into effect starting next week. In the meantime, I have a couple of stories I'm planning on getting out before Chapter 3 gets released. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but I had an idea and ran with it. I've never written for Bad Omens before, so let me know what you think. Enjoy!

This is a fictional story about real-life people. Nothing that is mentioned in the story below represents who said individuals are, or how they act in real life.

Halloween night was always your favorite time to be around certain people, specifically the friends you called Motionless in White and Bad Omens. There was always something up their sleeve to turn the normal night into one that you weren't sure you wanted to remember in the morning. Luckily, tonight was the annual hangout at Chris' house this year, and you couldn't be more excited. Every year you all would get together at someone's house and pass out candy to the kids, then watch a couple of movies after the last stragglers came through. After that, came your favorite part of the night, Hide and Seek. It might seem childish, but watching a bunch of tipsy/drunk people try to stay quiet in a hiding spot was always hilarious.

You were making another batch of popcorn when Chris walked into the kitchen. "Hey, we just put on The Lost Boys, just thought I'd let you know." You smile. "I'm not surprised. That's almost everybody's favorite." He laughs and grabs another bowl from the cabinet. "I know, that's why we put it on first, so nobody can complain about it later." The timer on the microwave went off signaling that the popcorn was finished, and you carefully took the bag out. You gave Chris the cooling-down bag and picked back up the one you set on the counter before he walked in. After emptying them and grabbing extra napkins, Chris brought the popcorn out to your friends who were talking through muffled and hushed whispers. Before you walked back into the room, he pulled you back for a second to whisper something in your ear. "I pulled the seeker for tonight. Unfortunately, it wasn't you. Maybe next year." You pout and then smile "Fuck, I'm never going to get picked." He laughs as you glanced around at everybody scattered in the room.

Ryan sat with Justin on the loveseat. Folio was a drama queen and insisted he get his own seat. Nicholas, Vinny, and a few other of your friends, Florence, Nicole, Victoria, and Robert who were invited sat around the coffee table on the floor. Ricky, Jolly, and Noah were on the couch. Then, you and Chris got the two giant bean bags in the corner. The lights were changed to red and the TV just started the opening credits to The Lost Boys. You and Chris give the popcorn to Ricky and Nicholas respectively, everybody else having their own mostly full bowls, and grab your drinks before plopping back down on the bean bags. Folio rubs his hands together and smiles. "Now that our final two goofballs are here, who's ready to watch one of the best horror movies ever made?" Everybody gives some form of yes or a holler, and he immediately turns the volume up. As the movie plays, there is a small conversation here and there, and occasionally someone has to get up for a new drink, but you are relaxed and having fun.

At about the halfway point of the movie, Noah gets up to get another drink from the fridge. On his way back, Jolly scares him, causing his wine to spill all over the floor and your sweatpants. "Jesus man!" The movie is paused and everyone's attention is on you guys. Jolly laughs and puts his hands up in defense. "Sorry dude, I had to scare you at least once today." He turns to look at you. "Didn't mean to ruin your sweatpants though, my bad." You wave him off. "It's no big deal, these were old anyway. You guys can keep the movie playing. I'm just gonna change into different pants real quick." You take a sip of your drink and get up from your spot to go upstairs.

After finding your weekend bag, you huff as the extra sweatpants are nowhere to be found. Instead, you pull out a pair of spandex volleyball shorts and go to the bathroom. Noah hears the sink running upstairs as he's cleaning up the accidental mess he made by your spot. He throws the paper towels away and before he gets to the stairs, Chris quietly asks "You good?" He nods, telling the other singer he's going to make sure you're okay, and heads to your bathroom. He knocks a few times and after a couple of seconds, the sink cuts off and you open the door. You were expecting one of your girlfriends to be standing there, but instead, it's Noah. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm sorry about spilling on your sweats. I hope I didn't ruin them." Holding up the pants, you show him where the stain had previously been. "If these sweats can make it through one of your tours, they can certainly handle a little bit of wine. I just didn't want them to stain, since you drink the darker stuff." He chuckles and follows you back into the bedroom.

You grab your shorts and get ready to put them on, but Noah points to your leg. "I didn't know you had a thigh tattoo." You glance at it and glance at him confused. "Really? I got it a while ago. I could've sworn I showed you when I got it done. Then again, I'm always in longer shorts, so it's not exactly easy to see." Setting them down, you turn to the side and pull part of your underwear band up, showing the last covered part of the tattoo. Looking up at Noah, you can see he's staring, but there's something else behind his eyes. Just not sure what it is though. You don't flinch when he reaches his hand out, but your skin gets goosebumps as his fingers ever so lightly trace over the ink on your leg. Everybody that came over tonight had seen each other in their undergarments or even completely nude before, whether by accident or on purpose. Hell, you've walked in on him changing plenty of times.

So why did the room suddenly feel hot?

It could be that you've had a crush on the man since you were kids. There wasn't anything not to like. His personality just made you want to be around him all the time. He's sweet and kind, and has a terrible sense of humor that only you two get. You could go on and on. He was just an all-around amazing person. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you missed the hand that was snapping in front of your face. "Hello? Are you there?" Coming back to reality, you saw Noah looking down at you with curiosity. You quickly apologized and asked him to repeat what he said. "I said it looks amazing on you. The placement is perfect and it works great with the curves of your leg." You thank him and can't help but notice just how close he's standing to you. There's a tense silence for a couple of moments, and neither of you moves from your spot. You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, but immediately looked away.

It felt like you were a school girl again, talking to the guy you've had a crush on for ages. You heard him mumble a "Fuck it" before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and tasted like wine, courtesy of the drink that led you here in the first place. You felt his hand move to rest against your cheek. His lips were gentle, almost as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it would never happen again. When the two of you finally pulled away for air, your eyes remained closed for a moment, before slowly opening them and meeting Noah's. The two of you looked at each other in pure awe before you let out a small "Woah" He laughed, and you looked down, feeling your cheeks become hot.

The thought of you being so flustered made him blush too. How was it possible for someone to be this cute? Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you almost couldn't comprehend what just happened. "You know, for someone that always complained he was a terrible kisser, that was uh, really impressive." He could feel you now completely relaxed against him and he laughed a little, slightly embarrassed. "I'd say that I've had practice, but you already know my teddy bear in fifth grade doesn't count." The two of you laugh. Remembering his hand resting on your cheek, you look away and take a small step back. "I think we should get back to the movie. It's gotta be almost over by now, and I don't want them to yell at us for taking too long." He let out an uncomfortable laugh and muttered a "Yeah."

You never noticed but Noah frowned slightly when you pulled away from him. He felt so comfortable being that close to you. As you turned to the door he realized something. He really liked you and didn't want this to be just a one-time thing, especially if it was going to make things weird between you afterward. He picks himself out of his thoughts just as you open the door. He walks across the room, taking your hand and silently closing the door. Standing there surprised, you ask him, "Are you okay?" It was now or never he told himself. "I'm sorry, I just..." He takes a breath before continuing. "I really want to kiss you again." You stand there just as surprised but decide to see just how far this could possibly go. "What's the problem then?" He lets go of your hand and brings his own up to hold your face. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers.

"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

He obviously likes you, right? But this is your best friend. You've known each other for years. If he did like you this much, he would've told you by now, right? You two have been affectionate towards each other before, but there's a line neither of you dared to cross. If you crossed it now, you would rather do it with no regrets. It was better than wondering what could have been. "What if I don't want you to stop?" Noah tilts your head so you're looking him in the eyes.

"Then I won't."

He pushes his lips against you again, this time with newfound hunger. His hands fall and grab at your waist while yours go around his neck. Your feet follow his backward and you hit the edge of the bed. He pulls you down to sit on his lap, completely forgetting your lack of pants while he pushes himself further back on the bed. His tongue runs across your bottom lip and you open your mouth allowing him in. Your hands gently tug at the now-cut-short hair on the back of his neck and he grabs at your hip hard enough to leave bruises before pulling you even closer to him. Shifting your weight a little, your lower half sits directly on his hardening cock and he groans into your mouth. He pulls his lips away only for them to move down your neck. You tug at his hair a little harder and he sucks at the tender skin that connects your neck and shoulder. A moan leaves your lips and you mindlessly grind down against him. There was nothing that could prepare you for how right this felt. Like you were seeing a whole different side of him, hidden from the outside world, and for your eyes only.

Noah moved to whisper in your ear. "Quiet baby, wouldn't want everybody to hear us, hmm?" You shake your head no, but it doesn't matter as he kisses you again. "Hey, are you guys-OH MY GOD!" The bedroom door opens to see a shocked Chris looking at the two of you. Noah pulls away from your mouth, and the two of you look like deer in headlights. "I'm going to go... quickly." Chris walks away, before coming back and closing the door. You and Noah make eye contact for a split second, before the two of you look away, slightly embarrassed that you were caught. "Maybe we should go back before someone comes in again." He clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea." Carefully getting off of him, you stand up and let him off the bed. You both straighten out your respective clothes, and you finally put on those shorts.

"Are you alright?" He nods and you get ready to walk toward the door. Noah runs his fingers through his hair. "Um, Before we go, I just wanted to ask...You don't regret any of what just happened, right?" You immediately shake your head no, slightly frowning. Maybe this was all a big mistake. "Not at all. Why? Do you?" He smiles and also shakes his head no before taking your hand in his. "Nope. No regrets." A smile replaces the frown on your face. You ask "Are you ready for them to never let us live this down?" He laughs and glances at the door. "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me." Giving him a nod, he opens the door and the two of you walk back into the living room where the rest of your friend group is talking amongst themselves. When they hear you guys walk in, it gets silent. Noah lets go of your hand so you can sit down first, and then goes to his spot on the couch.

Nobody said anything for the first couple of moments before Chris broke the silence. "You guys fucked in my spare bedroom..." Instantly you and Noah sat up and shook your heads. Your voice and his overlapped and both of you tried to tell your friends that technically nothing happened. Once the two of you were finished explaining, the room was silent for another couple of moments before anyone spoke. The silence was starting to make you uncomfortable, but before you could say or do anything, Ryan threw his hands up and yelled. "Fucking finally!" This breaks the tension in the room and everybody starts laughing and giving you and Noah happy looks. You even saw a couple of people passing money around. Those fuckers bet on you and Noah getting together. When the commotion has died down, another movie has started, and everybody turns their attention to the TV. As you focus your attention on the screen, your phone buzzes, and you pick it up.

Noah

"I was thinking later we could finish what we started in the spare bedroom?"

You smile at your phone and quickly respond before setting it down.

"Well, we're still playing Hide and Seek after the movie. I'm once again not the seeker, lol. If it happens to be you, don't go easy on me. Depending on how the rest of the night plays out, you might get your wish ;)"

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Noah readjust himself in his seat. He sends back a text almost instantly, and goosebumps litter your skin again as you read his last text.

Noah

"Oh, I won't. I like the hunt."

Nope, no regrets.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens band #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #bad omens x reader

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anistarrose · 7 months ago

Text

You added an "image description" to my post - now what? (FAQ)

[Plain text: "You added an 'image description' to my post - now what? (FAQ)". End PT.]

While I'm literally always willing to answer (good faith) questions about image descriptions, alt text, and online accessibility writ large, I also know lots of people have social anxiety about sending DMs, doing IDs "wrong," or just not knowing what IDs are for in the first place. Hence, this FAQ.

If I added an ID to your post and/or asked you to do so, and you're confused about any aspect of that, this is where to start. You can absolutely still reach out to me, I just thought I should consolidate as many answers as possible.

"What is an ID and why does it matter?"

IDs are a description of the content of an image, and can range from a transcript of a screenshot of text, to a description of a detailed piece of art. They should be in plain text, and placed on the line immediately following the image (unless it's alt text, more on those pros and cons later).

IDs are primarily for blind and low vision people who use screen readers to navigate the internet — but help others too, including lots of neurodivergent people. Check out this post (link) and the notes for more examples (dyslexics, migraine sufferers, people who can't interpret expressions, people with slow internet...)

IDs are important because without them, the Internet really sucks for people who need them. You probably don't realize how many undescribed images circulate on Tumblr every day, with no way for a lot of disabled people to engage with those posts.

A blind person talks in more detail about all of this here (link).

"I reblogged your ID, is that enough?"

It's not that I don't appreciate it, but editing it into the root post and then reblogging that is much more impactful, for a variety of reasons. It means people who need IDs don't have to dig through the notes for them, it means that Tumblr can't glitch by failing to load the notes and make the ID functionally disappear, and it means all people who find the post in the tags or on your blog will be sharing the accessible version.

To explain visually, the best thing to do is something like this:

[ID: two mock-up Tumblr posts to illustrate adding an ID from the notes to the root post. A blog named "your-blog" posts an image of text reading "something cool you posted" with the caption "check out this cool image I made!" In the notes, the blog "image-describer" reblogs with an ID, which is highlighted. This version of the post is labeled: "original post, reblogged via ID writer."

The second version of the post is from "your-blog" again, where they've added the ID directly under the image, with the same caption below the ID. This version is labeled "updated root post, with ID copy-pasted. End ID.]

"My commentary first, or ID first?"

Include the ID right under the image, followed by your commentary. Unless you're putting your commentary before the image itself, a sighted person will see "image, commentary" in that order, so to ensure the post flows the same way for screen reader users, use the order "image, ID, commentary."

Commentary frequently assumes that the reader has seen the image, after all! A person might not even realize the image is described if the ID is buried too deep, because they might lose patience and skip the post. Or, to explain visually:

[ID: two mock-up example posts with an ID, one formatted well and one poorly. They both start with an image, which is just the text "screenshot of a tweet or something." The first post includes the ID immediately under the image. Below, it continues: "commentary blah blah blah get a load of this guy can you believe it." The post is labeled "Like this!" in green with a check mark.

The second post includes the commentary first, then the ID after the commentary. It's labeled: "Reads awkwardly, deprives screen reader users of immediate context" in red with an X. End ID.]

"I want to make a change to the ID, is that okay?"

Yep! If you want me to change it on my blog too (whether it's characters' pronouns, some typo, etc), just message me.

"What if someone else adds an ID to my post? Would they also be okay with me editing it into the original post like you are?"

Almost certainly! I can't speak for everyone, but I've literally never met an ID writer who wouldn't be okay with it — because we all have the shared goal of maximizing accessibility. If you're unsure or nervous, you can always include credit, but most people are even fine with going uncredited.

"I put your ID in the alt text, is that enough?"

I will never tell you not to use alt text when the alternative is an undescribed post, but I really strongly suggest putting it in both the alt text and the post. Some people who use screen readers prefer the flow of alt text, for good reason — but it's also poorly implemented on Tumblr, and it can glitch and disappear on reblogs, in drafts, or just apropos of nothing.

Moreover, when a low-vision person or anyone else wants to read the alt text directly, Tumblr's display options aren't great. (Unless you use XKit Rewritten's AccessKit, which I will always plug, but that's not an option for mobile users.) Long alt text often extends off the page and gets cut off. Tumblr used to use a terrible eye-straining purple background for it, and could always do that again with no warning. It's just not ideal.

Here's a visually impaired person talking more about the pros and cons (link).

We're in need of a compromise, so what can you do? One option is to include the same alt text as image description (placing the ID directly under the image as always, because remember, flow for screen readers is important). I like to lead with "ID from alt," in order to clarify to screen reader users that they can skip the ID, and help differentiate it from the other option I'm about to describe. This should be self-explanatory, but here's an example of a post I did in this style (link).

Option two is to include a short description in the alt text, and a more detailed explanation in-post. This can let screen reader users instantly know that the post is described, and decide whether they're interested enough in it to stick with it, but it maintains an in-post description for others to benefit from too.

Example of me doing this in a post about IDs (link)

Example of my mutual describing art like this (link)

Also, it's the style I follow throughout this exact post! Take a look!

As usual, the ID is directly below the image in all these cases. This means screen readers move immediately from the alt text to the full description, and the post flows the same way it would for a sighted person.

If you're here because I wrote an ID for you, it might be easier for you to put it in the alt text and the post body identically. That's perfectly fine! But if you're confident writing one short sentence for the alt text and including my ID in the body, you can always go for that too!

"Do I need to keep the brackets or the words 'image description/ID' in the alt text?"

Nope, no need. Brackets are purely for the visual distinction, and most screen readers preface alt text with something like "Image" that fulfills the same purpose as the "ID" label. It's not the end of the world if they're there, but it's redundant, so feel free to remove them.

"Can I put the ID under a read more? Or in small text?"

Please don't. Read mores are glitchy, and oftentimes have to be opened in a new tab. Accessibility that requires jumping through extra hoops isn't accessibility. And worse, if you change your URL or get deactivated, that read more link is usually just gone for good, and the post is undescribed again.

A blind person talks about read mores, and why not to put IDs below them, in more detail here (link).

The exception is if the image itself is below the read more, of course. Then putting the ID below the image, also below the read more by extension, is fine.

Meanwhile, small text, italics, colored text, and so on aren't good for low vision people or others who read the IDs directly — such as with increased font size — for whatever reason. If you want the ID to stand out visually even more than with brackets, an indent is fine as far as I know. And remember, IDs always go immediately below the image!

I demonstrate the issues with fonts and small text in this post (link).

"Why do you sometimes copy italics and stuff as plain text? Is that a screen reader thing too?"

Same reason IDs shouldn't be in small text, italics, etc — because of sight readers with low vision. Font in weird styles, or in a fixed size regardless of device settings (to my knowledge, this includes headings) isn't very accessible, so I try to provide an accessible transcript.

Colored text is sometimes even inaccessible to sighted people using certain Tumblr themes! If Tumblr gave individual users the option to disable small text and colors on their dash, then I'd tell you to use them to your heart's content, but as it stands, they're not very accessible.

"Okay, I want to make my blog more accessible, but I don't feel capable of writing IDs on my own. How can I get help?"

Good news, this is my absolute favorite question! I strongly recommend the People's Accessibility Discord (invite link here, please let me know if it breaks).

It was created for this exact purpose of crowdsourcing IDs (and answering questions about them). I talk about it more in this post (link), but I also describe an alternative if you're like me and have massive social anxiety about Discord servers.

TL;DR: ask in the post if someone can add an image description, and edit it in once someone does! If you've read this far in the post, you're clearly an expert on how to do that.

In that post, I also recommend text extractors like OnlineOCR (link), OCR Space, and Google Lens to extract text from images and save you typing if it's just a twitter thread or something. I would always spot check the text, adjust formatting, and remove superfluous characters, but it usually saves you lots of time when you might not normally have the energy to describe something.

Lastly, a lot of description blogs take requests! I don't unless I specify otherwise, because I easily run out of spoons, but @accessible-art is a great example of a blog that does this for non-fandom art, and there are lots of fandom blogs out there that do similar.

"I want to learn how to write image descriptions for my posts! Do you have any resources?"

This is my image description masterpost (link). I get a little scared about linking it because it's long, and a lot of the linked posts are long too, and I don't want to overwhelm people — so please, start with the first few links to get the broad strokes, and then feel free to treat the rest like a index. That is, peruse it if you're looking for answers or advice on a specific topic!

While learning, keep in mind that different ID users want different things out of IDs, and that's okay. Some people, including many blind people, care quite a bit about color, but others don't, and that doesn't mean either is wrong about the types of IDs they prefer versus ones they find unnecessary.

Blind people have a massive range of lived experiences, and all the other people who benefit from IDs broaden that range even more. Generally, no one involved wants huge walls of text, but some people prefer super-minimal IDs, while others prefer a nice handful of (relevant) details. It's stuff like the difference between "Two characters hugging in a cozy-looking house," versus "Two characters hugging with their eyes closed, both smiling. Their house looks cozy and cluttered, with warm lighting."

Neither of those is objectively wrong, and there will be people who prefer either. Nor is it wrong for you, the ID writer, to make a subjective judgement, such as on the "cozy" mood. You don't want to misrepresent things, but subjectivity is usually unavoidable on some level, and therefore fine. Likewise, you don't want to let the ID get so long it's a slog to get through (here's an example of what NOT to do), but if you're describing a complicated image like some art might be, it's okay to add some details. Just start with the important stuff and general idea first.

The purpose of an image also matters. With memes, shorter is almost always better, and excessive detail is annoying (post with examples). You don't need in-depth detail to appreciate most quick jokes. But on the other hand, art is often shared for the purpose of appreciating the details. This post goes into detail about how context matters, and how longer IDs make sense for art sometimes. It puts it better than I could, so I really suggest reading it if this is something you're wondering about! Key word: not length, not brevity, but "relevancy."

In my opinion, IDs are easiest to learn by doing, but also by starting small. If you want to build up your "description muscles" and confidence by just transcribing screenshots of text, that's perfectly fine — and also, the path that myself and a lot of people I know have followed.

Lastly: follow some described blogs! Check out how other people do it! Writing IDs is an art, and though it has a few hard do's and don't's we've gone over, we've also gone over how it's subjective. Everyone brings a slightly different style, with a different level of lengthiness, and it's great to learn from multiple sources. Here's one list of blogs like those (link)!

"Why would this matter if I know I don't have any blind people following me?"

Consider the cycle of inaccessibility (link). If no one ever accommodates blind people, then of course you're not going to see them on Tumblr, in fandom, or in whatever internet circles! There are blind people who might want to use Tumblr, but left because they weren't welcomed and accommodated (link). And blind people aren't the only people who need image descriptions — again, consider this post, especially this addition (link).

Worst case scenario, even if you have no one who can benefit from IDs following you, and no people who need IDs would follow you even if you included them, you're still helping people who do maintain accessible blogs to do so — and moreover, normalizing image descriptions in general.

"I don't think blind people would be in this fandom. I mean, there's a huge visual component!"

Described comics and webcomics exist. Audio descriptions for TV shows and movies exist. Disabled people who find creative ways to play video games exist. People who watched a playthrough of a video game by a person who happened to read out the dialogue, and give descriptive commentary on the action, also exist. People who lose their vision over time, or gain other reasons to rely on IDs over time, also exist.

"Where can I learn more about blindness and related accessibility issues, especially from blind people themselves?"

Wonderful question — check out @askablindperson and @blindbeta for starters! BlindBeta focuses on blind characters in fiction, but discusses accessibility too, and both these users have wonderful and very informative pinned posts! I'll link a few additional posts/tags below, from these bloggers and others:

BlindBeta on Myths That Harm Blind People

"For a lot of blind and visually impaired people, sight is a conscious effort."

Variation in blind experiences and accessibility needs

Ask A Blind Person's tag on Braille

#accessibility #image descriptions #long post

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shinakazami1 · 3 months ago

Text

TSPUD: closer look at IOS / Free Trial / Paywall Ending

Me and @decomposten looked through the video of the new ending and here is the summary of our thoughts on it :^]

Table of Content: 1) The two doors room 2) The video 3) The Paywall (room next to it) 4) Ending thoughts

DISCLAIMER: This post talks mostly about stuff SHOWN, not said. If people would be into my analysis of the Narrator's lines, let me know :D (it's a long post - that's why Read more is used >:D )

1) The two doors room

Here, there are two different elements that I want to present.

First - the windows. Or - more important, the light coming from them. This is the ONLY part, in the entire series, that the lighting change comes from the windows.

At any other time in the games, the light change came from lamps, screens or untold spots (just like in the corridor as there are no external windows in there).

Based on the New New Content next to Infinite Hole, we assume these lights are scenery lights.

It's a neat detail to me - it is possible to have either LED options that change colours or a colour filter for the scene to work. But...if that's the case, one detail is wrong. And it's the whites of this scene.

While it's not as visible on the door, the papers and the reflections (noticed by deco) really show that this light does not work how it's supposed to. That could mean that instead of the typical lighting options, the Narrator might have overlayed red separately on the different objects and forgot to do it on some, making the light source possibly still red. It's a small detail but, to me, it only showed more how this Parable is just a playground for the Narrator.

Which, the vault in the floor only shows even more.

First - we've already seen a similar vault in one of the trailers. Though the construction is new - the closest resembling one I could find is in New New Content. it's possible Narrator added this in instead of having all the floors like that from the start. He either might be able to expand the Parable, or as we've seen in past, has some scrapped storage spots here and there he can reinvent later.

Now - onto the longest section of this post.

2) The video

That one single video is packed with a lot of content but, I will try to keep it coherent, mostly showing them and focusing on one part of the video the most.

Before we start, though - a quick shoutout to this blue drapery. They seem similar to the one in the Madness ending.

The Stage seems new, the only thing that resembles its shape is the Bucket Quiz stage.

The video brought two different interpretations from us. To decomposten, this video is so well done, it looks like someone else made it (no credits anywhere, too high of a production).

To me, however, this is the mix of his past video/presentation works that he's done in the past, showing his progress as a creator.

The last video we had made by him was Figley ending. It was the start of his editing journey, where he used Windows Media Editor. Everything else feels like it's been there. The same Stanley renders as usual. The usage of stock images (though that does feel more like Crowsx3 trademark), old movies with silly tone (some trailers), falling money, and much more. and of some weird sophisticated ref to an important and well-known painting (Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich, 1818).

I feel he's been just working on editing skills and I couldn't be more proud of him :]

Besides that - there are many writings and images worthy of discussion.

First - the content. As someone who made the Fernator AU Apple story, you won't be surprised how happy I was with the food mentions. This man knows about humans but probably doesn't exactly know what's edible. Or he's playing with us. Flavoured styrofoam takes the cake.

The Second - new features. A few are familiar ones (dog mode, theme of forgiveness, eternal contentment as the Bucket) but there are also some other ones. Yellows are typical RPG material (we know the Narrator is a fan), some foods and other game-related stuff. The guarantee resembles writing in the Mind Control facility but - that's a minor detail.

Both of these show how he understand the outside world but likes to play with it and us, as he calls us, the player, a friend. He's on the joke.

But then - the more choices. It's interesting that it only seems to have some chronological continuum. 2011 mod -> 2013 (red blue-door) -> TSPUD: New content -> Skip Button flower ending. But then, it gets to number 3 ending -> New content again -> Bucket Apartment -> Bucket in Expo -> Bucket Quiz -> and THEN returns to Skip -> Jump Circle (Expo) -> entrance to the Memory Zone -> Apple ROOM -> Final Skip.

I was trying my best to find some logic in this part of the video, in how he showed all of these. Here are my thoughts: 1) The Narrator gives a sneak peek to his past traumatic event, showing those who know that he is now above it. That's why this part has the most slides. 2) The Jump Circle, if you look at the video, is scratched out. Decomposten thinks it's due to no spoilers. And I feel that's plausible. After all - he rebranded that part of the game to himself. 3) The Memory Zone entrance is right between the Jump Circle and the same flowered Skip Button. It does serve, in a way, a tunnel between them. To him, both are a memory - he played this already. In his memory, there is a silly phenomenon - of the past that will never come, and the future, that had already been there. And - to me, this shows through the fact the Apple Room is next. Because it shows exactly that - a fake memory. He lived through all this and yet, once you play the game, he will experience it again, like before. Final conclusion: The 'More choice' segment is to show how scrambled his memory really is. He remembers things happening but as each story sits by itself, he tries to stitch it all together. He first made the game. Updated it's looks and then, out of nowhere, someone broke in. The flowers were his mind toughing up, trying to make something beautiful for Stanley. That's why the next two are in the Show category (Stanley making a presentation, and devs showing New Content). And to the Narrator, that's the Bucket. He shows his change and love for his story (Bucket apartment) and to Stanley (Bucket entrance) - who, as the story went, was there to press buttons (Quiz, Skip Button). The narrator wanted to open up to Stanley more. Through reusing ideas (Jump Circle), through safe spots (Memory Zone), mutual memories (Apple), and through freedom.

So, yeah. To me, this video shows his growth, not only as a person but as a creator. Glad he cracked that Premiere B]

But now, let's follow the arrows to the last element of this post:

3) The Paywall

This one is more self-indulgent cus the fact this fucking plant is here only makes me believe Fernator is real and in this essay, I-

Ok ok but, I will try to wrap this part quick. If you reached this part, you're a true soldier. Here have a cookie. 🍪

Anyway, here are a few interesting elements to me about this: - You resetting in the same room after he's done talking is the same like the 2013 Serious Room. Seems he used the mechanisms again. Good for him. - The picture on a wall shows room 430 - the 5-click achievement one that he was most joyful about. - Very lit room (4 lights for such a small space). - The walls: the og Serious room had blue walls. Thanks to help from @/Boz in the Crowsx3 Discord server, we found that the same stripped wall colouring is in the cargo room. But - if you remember the basics of colour theory, yellow is complementary to purple BUT some shades to get into blues. - the. The fucking flower. The hh. The. The... (pls look at my Fernator theory post explaining the significance of nature in the game)

CONCLUSION: This room is the opposite to a serious room - it's a kinder rendition of it. Maybe not the kindest but still, it seems more welcoming.

4) Ending thoughts

While this is more of scratch surface observation, I hope you can enjoy this silly ramble of mine :^] I'm glad to see that after 13 years, this game finally ended up where it was supposed to be - in a mobile form. The Narrator seems to have grown quite a bit and I'm proud of him <3

If you got here - thank you for spending your time on this :] And thank you decomposten for doing this with me.

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batsplat · 8 months ago

Note

This line made me sooooo insaneeeeee

BUT ITS TRUE

they did not expect it from each other

You mention that after sepang 2015 that marc refused to take it lying down and retaliated, would you say that one some level vale expected him to just take it?

And also could you please recount events in which marc also waged mind warfare on other people after the divorce™ I think that the psychological aspects of his style are so incredibly interesting like how in le mans, bezzechi kind of crashed out and how viñales mentioned in post race interview how " when he heard marc's bike he knew it was over"

Thank you for your very valuable contributions to motogpblr, you enrich the experiences of all

right. right! following on from this post... fair warning: 'what was valentino's plan in sepang 2015' and 'what mind games has marc cooked up over the years' are two questions that don't exactly lend themselves to concise responses, though I've done my best to edit this down to a somewhat more palpable length. so *cracks knuckles*. let's do this

first off, sepang 2015. yes, marc did very much refuse to lie down and, yes, he did instead very much retaliate. I'm not sure if I'd say valentino expected marc to 'take it' exactly, though the hope would have been that it would a) make him more cautious around valentino, b) throw him off-balance, and c) make him more error prone. I mean, certainly you'd have to assume he didn't expect marc to react like that because.... well. otherwise, why would valentino have done it? yes, he has repeatedly alluded to having wanted race direction or dorna or whoever to step in, but those guys infamously aren't particularly proactive. and, let's just pretend for a second here that marc really had been plotting to ruin valentino's title - what are you going to do about it if you're the ones responsible for enforcing the rules? even after sepang, when it was reasonable to suggest marc had been messing with valentino in that race specifically, there was only so much they could do. sure, the main reason they didn't penalise marc was because he'd crashed and had in essence already been penalised. but if you want a more drastic penalty, then you're going to have to show that marc is doing something emphatically illegal. I mean, it's not like race direction penalised valentino when he was racing jorge in what can only be described as a cheerfully malicious manner in motegi 2010, at a time when jorge was close to sealing that year's title and the two of them were racing for *squints at notes* p3. they can't actually stop you from being a little shit, you know

this line of argument might be ascribing too much rationality to valentino's actions - maybe he was hoping race direction would do something. it's worth pointing out that one of valentino's later comments (from march 2016) to my reading suggests that valentino had already spoken to race direction several races before sepang about marc's behaviour, but they didn't listen to him. the sepang presser then constitutes an attempt to publicly force their hand... except it still wasn't enough. and a part of valentino surely must have already known it was going to go wrong after saturday's qualifying. the incidents during the practise sessions that weekend weren't particularly egregious, but they involved two riders who were both clearly willing to play games with each other (including in some towing-related shenanigans). crucially it's not really the type of thing that would happen if one rider had been spooked so badly they're making sure to ride on eggshells around the other bloke. at the end of the day, valentino thought he could unnerve and disorientate and unsettle marc - and if you're being generous you could say he at least picked the right target. marc had broadly demonstrated he could be unsettled that year, which jorge had very much not

if you're being less generous you could say 'but it's crazy he's doing this to the bloke who isn't even his title rival'. which is the whole problem from valentino's perspective - he simply couldn't engage jorge in direct combat (and again, this does make it more remarkable he even got it to valencia given one of his big big strengths in title fights was being completely neutralised). jorge has been involved in plenty of great battles over the years, but his 2015 title was won purely on raw pace and having just enough tracks where he was fast and it wasn't raining for things to work out in his favour. it was marc who valentino was continually getting into fights with, whether at argentina or assen or silverstone or... well, even phillip island, valentino fights marc a hell of a lot more than he does jorge. which makes for a weird championship in a lot of ways, but also makes it a bit inevitable that valentino ends up disproportionately focused on a bloke who isn't actually his title rival

if you want to be even less generous, you can say it was a rather radical misread of marc's character from a man who (any conspiracy theories aside) has always seemed to understand marc pretty well. like, this is the thing right, obviously hindsight is 20/20 and all that but can you really imagine any universe in which marc hadn't done something roughly along the lines of what he did that weekend? in a way, this is probably the bit that bothers me the most about the whole thing, just feels like it couldn't have ever achieved what valentino intended it to. I can excuse breaking the heart of the kid who hero worships you, but I draw the line at being kind of dumb

the way I'd break it down is by looking at why he was in a headspace in which he wasn't making good choices, and then consider what his actual thought process (however irrational) might have been. so on the one hand, you've got all the contributing factors that explain the poor decision-making process, that explain why he wasn't thinking clearly. on the macro level, you have the arc of his career and what this title meant to him and how it fits into his desire to win on his own terms and prove everyone wrong and all of that. you have the pressures of that specific season and how it had gradually gotten more and more intense post-assen, the influence of the people around him and how they had allowed/contributed to him getting increasingly distracted from the actual riding as the season went on. this factor obviously includes the man who actually presented valentino with the phillip island telemetry and had seemingly been badmouthing marc for more than two years. you have the arc of valentino's relationship with marc, his belief that marc was a sore loser who only played nice with valentino while he was winning and who valentino thought he had been more than generous to in response to marc's lack of composure earlier that season. this eventually coalesced into a mental list of all the times that year valentino felt marc had fought him differently than he would anyone else, from argentina to assen to silverstone to misano to, of course, phillip island. you have the compressed time scale - four days from the race at phillip island to the presser in sepang, at a time at which valentino will have been at his most exhausted and spent after the travails of first motegi and then phillip island at the closing stages of the toughest season of his career. it's this that creates the sense of urgency, the need to do something now to stop the opportunity from slipping away. and then, of course, on the micro level you have the actual details of the supposed conspiracy that relied on the specifics of how the race at phillip island ended up unfolding... of tyre management and seagull murder and fluctuating lap times and suspicious late race pace and a perfect last lap

which, okay, I think it's fairly obvious that valentino wasn't thinking clearly. but he still must have been intending the presser to do something, something that was different from what it actually ended up doing. now, the way this works in my head is that valentino basically did the equivalent of pressing a big red button labelled 'chaos'. if you do what he does in the presser, that's the inevitable outcome, right: you're ensuring this entire weekend is going to be a complete mess. in theory, you're the one person who's had the chance to mentally prepare yourself for that mess, because you're the person who's pressing the button. you're hoping everyone else will be off-balance, distracted... to some extent it's less about wanting to intimidate marc per se (bad idea!) and more about making sure he has other stuff to worry about. maybe you're hoping marc's going to make some mistakes, crash in ways that aren't caused by a movement on your part that looks suspiciously like a kick, be a little out of it all weekend. I mean, marc did have a tendency to hit the deck when under pressure that year. the hope is at the very least he's going to be a little more cautious, so worried about ruining his reputation that he's not going to attack you too hard. basically, hope he does anything other than what he actually ended up doing, aka throwing himself at you again and again in the race in a sort of agonised fury that paid no consideration whatsoever to his reputation, ruined or otherwise

this is where the sepang 2004 parallel is at its most instructive to me. you're giving everyone something to talk about and you know it's going to be the centre of attention that weekend and you just kind of have to hope that the chaos ends up creating an opportunity. and, for a hot second there, it did look like valentino might have been onto something. he qualified on the front row for only the fifth time that season (y'know his qualifying actually got a fair bit better in 2016, presumably because he just wanted to maximise the number of awful vibes pressers) and he outqualified jorge for only the second time that season (again I don't mean to be rude but, jorge, how the fuck did you almost lose that title what were you DOING). it's pretty unfortunate that the very start of the sepang race played out in the exact perfect way to allow dani and jorge to escape while marc and valentino started divebombing each other. this is the thing right, there are lots of ways that race could have unfolded and it basically could not have gone any worse - and it's helped make valentino's initial decision to blow shit up age particularly horrendously

the other underlying explanation is a somewhat more opaque one. people want to feel good about themselves, they want to have a positive sense of identity along several different metrics like self-worth and moral virtue and so on. it doesn't feel good to lose, and it especially doesn't feel good to lose if you've tried really, really, really hard. a lot of sports psychology is about the challenge of managing vulnerability. there is something inherently vulnerable about competing in the public eye: you are trying hard to win but there is always the possibility that you will lose. if you lose with other people watching, you are making your inadequacy public knowledge. this is why athletes search for explanatory mechanisms - maybe they make a public show of how they weren't actually trying hard, about how they don't actually care that much, or maybe there's something they can blame like the machinery or injury or the team not being on their side or whatever. maybe there's someone to blame. a narrative of sabotage allows you to preserve belief in both your own ability and your own self-worth; it is the perfect explanatory mechanism. and to some extent, this type of thing is necessary - you're not going to be able to compete well unless you have high self-belief to the point of delusion, which means you do have to tell yourself all kinds of things to keep the faith. but paradoxically, these explanatory mechanisms are also incredibly dangerous, because you cannot compete to the fullest extent of your ability if you are not throwing yourself into what you are doing in your entirety, without any restraint or self-defence. you have to be open to experiencing the pain of defeat in its rawest form to be at your best. you have to be willing to go to those infamous 'dark places' within yourself to win. the moment you are thinking about how you will explain your defeat, chances are you've already lost

but hey, I've never competed in a motorbike race before, what would I know of the psychology of it all? let's get the words of someone who should know a little more than me:

Looking back, what I said about wanting a bike that could win at Welkom, well, that was a way of boosting morale, an attempt at wishful thinking. You can't demand something like that. And even if you get it, there's no certainty you'll win. But then again, we riders always say all sorts of things. Sometimes we believe what we say, even when it sounds crazy, other times we're just being hopeful and, still at other times, it's all an exercise in self-delusion. We try to convince ourselves of something, because ultimately, every time you step on the track, words don't matter, and it's just you, the bike and your opponents. In fact, that's the only time you really have a clear picture of things. When you're actually on the track, racing against your opponents. That's when you know where you are and where the others stand. You know how your bike is doing and how those of your opponents are faring. That's the moment of clarity. Then, you can say whatever you like to everyone else: your chief mechanic, your mum, your girlfriend, the press... but, deep down, you know the truth and you know it with crystal-clear clarity. You can tell people you fell because the bike didn't follow the trajectory it was supposed to follow, or tell them that you're actually really fast, but the bike simply isn't. Inside you, however, you know the truth. You know you fell off because you made a mistake, or because your opponent is simply faster than you. And the opposite is also true. Deep down, you know whether your victories were deserved. You know if you won races on the turns, when it's down to your ability as a rider, or on the straightaways, when it's all about the power of the engine. You know the others are looking to make excuses when they say you beat them just because the bike was better. I always knew the truth behind each of my victories, and behind each of my defeats, too. I knew exactly why and how I won or lost. And so, at the end of 2003, after winning everything in sight with the Honda, I was certain I could win with another bike. But, of course, until I actually did it, I couldn't be truly certain. Thus, I set off on my journey, in search of that place where certainty meets truth.

(sidebar: I find it funny how the bit about straight line speed reads like just an extremely obvious dig at casey in his ducati days but, published in 2005, your honour he's innocent)

what valentino describes in that passage is the awful, inescapable secret at the heart of all competition: at the end of the day, you do know. you can only do so much to protect yourself from the truth. you have to tell yourself a story, even if it's crazy, engage in all manner of self-delusion to throw yourself into the field of battle again and again and again - where inevitably you are going to lose, again and again and again. any great athlete has to start out at least a little delusional, for there is something inherently insane about thinking you will be one of the very best in the world in your field. eventually, much of that delusion may turn to reality for the chosen few, but the delusion never completely goes away because there is always more to win and always more losing to do along the way. when the delusion stops, so does your career. valentino's endless capacity for storytelling and self-delusion is inherent to his success - he would not have been as good as he was if he had not found all these stories to tell himself, all these reasons to believe, to keep motivating him, to wring special performances out of himself when he needed them most. he told stories that were ridiculous until he turned them into reality. if valentino were anyone other than the person who killed his tenth title in sepang, he would not have won the other nine in the first place

and yet, chances are, valentino already had lost headed into sepang. chances are, he knew as much. chances are, he chose the kindest possible story to make sense of it all. at the very least, what he wanted to do was expose the truth as he saw it - make sure that everyone in the world knew what marc had done to him even if it didn't end up saving his title campaign. but in exposing one truth, at the same time he managed to obscure a different one. because in the end, certainty never did meet truth in 2015, because we'll always have a question mark about what would have happened if valentino hadn't said what he had said in that press conference, what would have happened if marc had reacted differently, what would have happened if race direction hadn't handed out penalty points or if marc hadn't been so hurt and angry he was unwilling to take risks against jorge in valencia. yes, of course it's likely that jorge would have won anyway, but we don't know that. it's 2006 all over again, isn't it? there's a likely winner, there's maybe somebody who should be winning, but there's never any certainty. that's why we line up on sunday, or so the cliche goes. the main lasting success of that press conference is that it has cast a shadow over the whole championship - not just in the sense of making the whole thing unpleasant to think about, but in the more literal sense of concealing the realities of that title fight, of generating ambiguity as to how it all might otherwise have played out under more 'normal' circumstances

except, of course, valentino has told us himself that he does know the truth about all of his victories and defeats. of course he knows jorge was faster than him that year, which is why he wasn't trying to win that title on pace. by any reasonable standard, there's no shame to that, not at that stage of his career and not against that level of opposition. there's plenty of ways in which valentino was the stronger rider that year, still, somehow, and enough sliding doors moments that would have given valentino just enough points and granted him a completely deserved title. but of course it was still frustrating, and it was frustrating to be reminded constantly in the paddock - including by marc - of how jorge was the faster of the two of them. valentino knew he couldn't beat jorge on pace, which is why he never tried to, but it still wasn't easy. it still required him to just... put away his ego, ignore all the snide remarks about his speed, ignore marc's digs and jorge's cockiness, and just devote himself to winning the title in the only way he could. that's the heart of 2015: it's all about valentino suppressing his worse instincts right until the moment he doesn't. it's the pressure, it's all the blows his ego has taken that year...

and of course, it's also marc. at the end of the day, it'll always come back to that - the fact that marc had made himself into someone who had the power to genuinely hurt valentino and how he then managed to make himself a target of valentino's suspicions (topic for another post). going into sepang, valentino already knew that more likely than not he was going to lose the title, and he decided he blamed marc. at the very latest during the race, he knew he was almost certainly going to lose the title, and now he definitely blamed marc. that's how it goes, isn't it... valentino's reasons for saying what he said in the press conference were complicated, but marc's actions then proceeded to simplify everything. any uncertainty, for valentino, was removed by that race. it was stripped away even further, if possible, by how marc approached the valencia race and his decision that he wasn't going to risk anything - not when it could help valentino. their whole tragedy, of course, is that if you had placed valentino in marc's shoes that weekend at sepang, he would have done the exact same thing

which is unfortunately as smooth a transition as I can come up with to stop discussing valentino's psyche and starting discussing marc's. let's talk mind games

the first point that's worth stressing is this: most of the mental pressure that riders exert on each other happens on the track. I think this is where 'mind games' becomes a bit of a tricky term, because inherently the connotation there is that you're doing something a little sneaky, a little underhanded to get under the skin of your opponent. but valentino has said it himself: you need to be performing on-track for any of this to work. and it goes beyond that - the on-track performances are key in determining what kind of psychological pressures you are exerting on your opponent. ideally, this is a symbiotic relationship where, as valentino puts it, the off-track 'work' that makes the opponents 'suffer' is used to... well, just back up what you're doing on the track, to make sure they're getting the message. to just play with them a little in a way that is conducive to bringing about further on-track success

so, in the interest of not getting bogged down in semantic debates about what exactly counts as playing 'mind games', I'm going to throw out the term for now. I think it's interesting in itself that this phrase is how people refer to that kind of behaviour, something about how it comes across as just a little derogatory, a little suspect... but we're going to ignore that. it's completely useless to discuss 'mind games' as this kind of ethereal higher-plane tactic that only happens in press conference rooms and on three hour long podcasts, as if it's somehow disconnected from the reality of what's actually happening on-track. (on-track behaviour is also at times referred to as mind games - but less frequently, and it tends to be used more for behaviour in non-race sessions.) it's also a bit of a sleight of hand: there's not anything inherently more 'honest' or 'straightforward', anything less 'psychological', about deliberately bullying someone on the track versus saying something snide about them to the media. what we are interested in here is the question of mental pressure, how riders exert it on other riders, and how riders go about working on the suppression of their rivals. basically, for a more fun term, think of anything you'd consider to be psychological warfare and go from there (the ask does actually specify mind warfare, which feels like a happy middle ground)

and just to reiterate this, the vast majority of the psychological work valentino himself did on his opponents - including in ways that marc has gone on to emulate - was done on the track. a race like laguna seca 2008, which relies so heavily on tactics and valentino's assessment of casey as a person and what message valentino decided to send casey that day... well, it may have had its effects reinforced off-track, but fundamentally that's still a heavily 'psychological' victory that enraged and unnerved casey through what valentino was doing during the race. and if you're assessing valentino's 'mental game' while leaving out laguna 2008, you really might as well not bother

so what we're looking at here isn't going to be exhaustive, but it's still going to hopefully cover most of the major aspects in a way that gives a sense of that integration between the off- and on-track. now, coming up with a list of examples isn't all that easy, because first of all... man, marc's been around for a long time by now... if we recounted every minor incident with another rider, we'd still be here by the time twenty to thirty years have passed and valentino finally gives marc a call. second of all, marc does undeniably leave less of a paper trail than valentino. partly he has objectively gotten himself involved in fewer feuds (though I'd argue there are also circumstance-related factors there), partly he's also been warier of how he approaches this kind of thing as a direct result of sepang 2015, and partly it's just a question of personal style

valentino tries to suffocate you with the paper trail, leveraging his skills at manipulating the media to make your life unpleasant, to throw distractions in your direction, at times to make sure you are overwhelmed by the frenzy and the noise and the chaos. all this, obviously, he does in addition to making your life on-track as miserable as possible. marc prefers a slightly quieter approach, maybe an indirect dig here or there, a habit of letting you know on the track if he's decided he has a problem with you. which means that a lot of what people consider marc's 'mind games' basically go something like this: a) rider does something to piss marc off (this can just be 'beating him'), b) marc does something dubious to them on-track, c) rider complains about marc, and finally d) marc goes ?? idk why they're saying all that but not really my problem :) and goes along his way

but that does make it a little tougher to actually provide a good overview of what he's doing - because, at the end of the day, I too can only be so certain that he's attempting to fuck with rivals. that's the nice effect of it, right, you get these statements from other riders where they're complaining about marc and broadly speaking I do believe them when they say he's being a little shit again... but it's a little harder to prove that this is his intention. which means they also end up engaging in a form of shadowboxing, where they think he's messing with them and they say he's messing with them but it feels kind of one-sided and silly and like maybe they're simply imagining things. which must be just... incredibly annoying. god

in a way, the best proof we have that marc regularly fucks with his opponents is that everyone in the paddock is more or less agreed in their belief that he is constantly engaging in psychological warfare. you've got other riders saying that marc is continually dabbling in 'mind games', you've got journalists on their podcasts saying that marc is always messing with people and is an awful teammate to everyone who isn't his brother etc etc, and you kind of assume they'd be the ones to know. though, if anything, this can mean they sometimes have a tendency to overshoot, which is how we got endless speculation at the start of this year on whether marc was lying to people or sandbagging or whatever when he was busy adapting to a new bike. sepang isn't irrelevant here - marc became more closed off and private and secretive and circumspect about his real feelings as a direct result of how bad that whole experience was for him. sometimes it feels calculated to unnerve his competitors, and sometimes it does seem more about just protecting himself. but that's the thing, right - if you acquire a reputation for "mind games", then people will think you're fucking with them even when you're not. which can be useful! but, as should be obvious, it demonstrates that just because somebody is accusing marc of engaging in gamesmanship, doesn't mean it's actually true (which is also of course the case for valentino)

^'who's most likely to play mind games in a press conference?' winning here! alex rins hands on hips we will get to you in a bit

all that being said, we do have plenty of fairly clear examples of the ways marc tries to fuck with his opponents, so let's get to those. here are the elements I'll focus on: 1) an explanation of how the on-track exertion of psychological pressure works, in races as well as outside of them, 2) intra-team dynamics, and 3) some specific examples of how the on-track and off-track tactics are integrated. again, far from exhaustive - the examples are supposed to be more akin to illustrating marc's approach rather than definitively listing every instance in which marc has exhibited a particular behaviour. the streamlined approach, if you will

so, let's start with the actual racing. the aspect you bring up in the ask: the intimidation. bez doing his sad little crash out of p2 in the le mans sprint, maverick thinking it's so extremely over the moment marc came too close in the main race. I've edited this section down a lot to avoid getting too into the weeds here, but let's just give the brief sparknotes version of how this intimidation works:

speed: if you are not capable of performances that unnerve your opponents, obviously you will not unnerve your opponents. no shit. marc's sheer pace is terrifying in its own right... it makes you wonder if that cushy gap you have to him is quite as cushy as it looked a lap ago. how often he seems to be able to access something special, how it piles on pressure in the context of a title battle to know that he is fast pretty much everywhere. the speed does a lot of his work for him in the intimidation department, nothing fancy required

circumstance: so, say you've got an alien behind you. not to name any names... but there are some aliens where, if they are having a good weekend, they wouldn't be behind you in the first place. that doesn't mean the alien can't still be plenty scary... but when they're at their best, they're dominating out front and so are less 'threatening' when they're sitting on your rear tyre. when things aren't going their way in a given weekend, you maybe don't have quite so much reason to be worried. marc (similarly to valentino) is a lot more flexible in how he wins his races - which might mean he's looking very ominous from say p5 at the end of the first lap. there's less possibility of respite, less chance that if he qualified badly, he has the decency to still be slow come sunday. if you find yourself on the same bit of track as marc... that's probably not great news for you in any weekend

aggression: the obvious one. marc isn't as afraid to crash as everyone else is, he's willing to go for it if he's given half a chance - which he never fails to remind people of. he said it about half a dozen times at le mans this year, including with his competitors in the same room. convenient when you have such an immutable character trait you couldn't do anything about even if you wanted to, which also just happens to make you terrifying to fight with. sometimes he mixes up this rhetoric a bit - e.g. in 2016 after his messy 2015 he did talk plenty about his newfound maturity. still, not bad if his opponents are constantly reminded of how unyielding he is... which is of course part of the reason why he bangs on about it so much

(on the flip side, while it is obviously in his best interest to barely say a word against hard racing because it would make him come across as a massive hypocrite, marc has this nice little habit of reframing his opponent's moves as just not being particularly sensible in that situation. look at how he talked about the pecco portimao crash this year - sure, it's a racing incident, but it also wasn't "necessary" to fight like this for fifth/sixth place given pecco had a championship to consider. pecco's move was "too optimistic" - and, my favourite bit, he would "learn" from what had happened. which is nicely condescending, and a good way for marc to criticise aggression in a more circumspect manner: don't call your opponent dangerous, call them an idiot instead)

tactics: linked to the second point - part of the reason why valentino instantly recognised himself in marc and has always acknowledged what a clever and tactically astute rider he is. the other aliens to varying degrees tended to prefer the 'start fast and fuck off' approach to winning races. by contrast, it's hard to really pinpoint what an 'average' race win would look like for either valentino or marc. they are capable of the 'dominate out front' victory (marc historically more so than valentino), but they also have a bunch of other ways of winning races that all produce their own psychological effects on their opponents. to give a few brief examples, you've got the 'stalking and studying' approach, closely tailing opponents and gradually ramping up the pressure while you analyse where they're strong and where they're weak before eventually making your move. you've got the 'comeback ride', which is frustrating in how it means the field is basically never guaranteed a break from these assholes - this is all about relentlessness and generating a sense of inevitability. you've also got the 'fucking around before fucking off' approach, where you get involved in a scrap for much of the race and it looks like you and your opponent(s) are on equal footing... before suddenly pulling the pin and disappearing off into the sunset. there might be good reasons for marc and valentino to stick around that don't just amount to 'playing with their food' (though there is that too) like tyre preservation or figuring out grip levels in the wet or whatever. nevertheless, it's intensely demoralising for the competition, because it almost feels like the whole thing was a lie, an illusion of a fair fight... they've been tricked into thinking they had a hope of emerging victorious. obviously, all these different ways of winning are also investments for the future, so that next time your opponents are in xyz situation you generate uncertainty and doubt and preemptive frustration in their minds, as they wonder whether they can really get the better of you this time

now, obviously a lot of this is just about marc's natural strengths as a rider - but the point is that these operate on the psychological level as well... and you can gently encourage this with a little bit of extra off-track 'work'. what you say about your own aggressive riding, what you say about your opponents' aggressive riding, any impression you want to reinforce in the minds of your competitors. there's a lot of long-term reputation management involved here. (a little more about these reputations in the context of argentina 2015 in this post.) most of the 'intimidation' happens on-track, and it's also a result of deliberate riding choices that aren't just about winning any given race. of course, it's helpful if you are particularly adaptable to different race situations, if your flexibility allows you to reinforce the impression that you are always a threat. if successful, you can make sure your opponent is already mentally beaten by the time they know you're coming for them. (I'm not personally massively a fan of the term, but this kind of thing is what generally counts as the 'aura' an athlete has.) ideal, really - to be so intimidating your opponents can't even put up a proper fight

then, of course, there's the stuff that happens outside of races but in practise and qualifying instead. a perfect opportunity to be a dick to others on-track without the stresses of a race. which means... well, look, we can't ignore marc's habit of sitting on other riders' rear tyres when they're attempting to hook together a fast lap. the towing thing radically escalated when the honda was at its least competitive post-2020, but marc was definitely very much already at it before that. (incidentally, one of the cuntiest things he has ever said was when he pointed out in 2019 that he was leading so many laps in the actual races that he wasn't getting much chance to study the other riders there.) nobody really needs me to list every single towing-related controversy marc has involved himself in over the course of his career, but it might be a good idea to get the thoughts of somebody who knows a thing or two about fucking with his rivals. valentino himself has gotten the towing treatment a few times over the years courtesy of marc, and both pre- and post-sepang his stance has generally been 'listen it's a dick move but smart play, gotta hand it to him'. take this from catalunya 2019:

and y'know, he gets to the heart of the whole matter rather nicely -thanks to the local marc marquez understander for logging in years before the discourse about it became such a big thing. marc follows other riders around because it's a great way to study them and he also does it because he knows it's extremely annoying. it's annoying both because you know you're helping out another rider who you don't want to be helping out, and because it is just quite distracting to have someone that close to you, being able to hear their engine, etc etc. one thing that changed after 2019 was how necessary it was for marc to do this... marc went crazy with it at a time when it was often the only way he could put together a decent lap (and also because it played into the strengths of the honda, for a given value of the word 'strengths' - he's spoken a fair few times this year about how he finds it harder to follow other bikes on the ducati) (not for lack of trying). but valentino is also spot on in that marc is excellent at choosing his victims, how marc understands you have to pick someone who needs to put a good lap together and has no choice but to drag you along with them

I mean, think about why he just couldn't seem to leave poor pecco alone for a while there. first of all, pecco is fast, and marc clearly feels quite comfortable following him around. secondly, pecco tended to put himself in positions where he really needed a good lap because he'd gotten himself stranded in q1 or only had one more shot at a lap or whatever. plus he was fighting for championships, so he couldn't afford to fuck marc over out of sheer spite. thirdly, pecco has been fighting for titles for the past few seasons, making him one of the riders to beat. which means that marc was motivated to a) study him, and b) fuck with him - both of which were investments for a future in which he could fight pecco properly. makes complete sense! insanely irritating if you're the victim, which is half the point. also helps that pecco very obviously found the whole thing frustrating and tiring and really hated being asked about it, but also was equally obviously adverse to kicking up too much of a fuss about it for various reasons. the perfect victim

on the flip side, marc has been known in the past to be quite careful about who he is giving a tow, like for instance this from brno 2014 (ironically the first race that year marc did not win):

The two front row slots for the Ducatis were a problem for Rossi, dropping the Movistar Yamaha rider down to seventh, and the start of the third row. Rossi joked darkly about Marquez’s strategy, claiming that he was giving the Ducatis a tow to put them in between him and his main rivals. “For sure he is clever,” Rossi said. “He doesn’t pull Jorge, me or Dani, always a Ducati.” Marquez laughed at the suggestion, admitting only half of Rossi’s accusations. He certainly didn’t look for Ducatis to give a tow, but he would not give one to his rivals, he said. “It’s your decision to close the gas,” Marquez told the press conference. “If it’s Dani, Jorge, or Valentino behind me, for sure I will close the gas, but if it is another rider, it doesn’t matter.” That is in itself an admission of just how little competition Marquez sees. He is prepared to give anyone a tow, except for the other factory Honda and the two factory Yamahas. In effect, he is dismissing the threat from any other riders. Harsh, but fair.

and, y'know, if it were so easy then everyone would do it. you need a certain level of skill to actually pull off the towing bit, which marc is clearly very good at. you also need to have a good feel for picking your moments, who to bully, when to slot in behind them, all that kind of thing. and, lastly, you also need the sheer power of shamelessness on your side. which, that should more or less cover it... there are some real gems like mugello 2019 where marc accused ducati of ordering pirro to shadow him and then played a complicated game of chicken to catch a tow from dovi and snag pole, or mugello 2021 where marc was so determined to follow vinales through q1 that he was even alert enough to dive back into the pits with him as vinales tried to get rid of the small train of guys following him... but overall, I think valentino did a pretty good job at summing up the main points for me, so let's leave the towing discourse at that. returning to catalunya 2019, obviously it is also extremely valentino that he then had a sneaky little look at the honda's dashboard 'just out of curiosity'. truly a meeting of the greats, those two, we'll never find their like again

let's move on to intra-team fuckery - which is all about suppression of rivals. your first job is to beat your teammate, and the first arena of trying to fuck with your opponents is what happens within the team. my general assumption here is that marc's particular approach is less inspired by valentino and more just the result of his natural competitive instincts (which, to be clear I do think is true for much of the tactics described in this post). it's also not something... I know the ask specifies post-2015, but I don't think it's something that changed after sepang, except insofar as marc had won the most important teammate war of his career and didn't need to be quite as aggressive towards dani any more. given the continuity between the intra-team situation pre- and post-2015, I'm not going to make much of a distinction here and just rattle through some details about the intra-team dynamic from the start of marc's time in the premier class

so, the first bit of context that has to be acknowledged: a lot of the dani/marc war wasn't really fought between the two of them directly. both of them had... well, rather drama-happy managers, who a) were willing to do a lot of the mudslinging on the behalf of their charges, and b) were pursuing agendas of their own to establish themselves within the honda hierarchy. I think it's fair to say that not all of what they were getting up to was necessarily just about acting in the best interest of their riders - and it is an internal power struggle that could've had pretty disastrous consequences for marc in particular. here's a longer write up I quite like about the situation within honda in 2013, which came to a bit of a head with the phillip island fiasco (when marc was disqualified as a result of failing to change bikes early enough). just a few excerpts (though again I'd recommend reading the whole thing):

(gabbarini is pecco's crew chief these days by the way, small world.) so obviously a lot of this is kind of dumb, not least because marc came very close to losing that year's title to a yamaha rider as a result of all this behind the scenes bullshit. it also is just the kind of thing that happens when you lock a bunch of big egos into a small space within a competitive environment - and is a nice little insight into the early year machinations that were going on as marc and his team attempted to establish themselves within honda. which they did in part by pushing through key personnel changes that replaced anyone too closely associated with the old regime... and there's also the less pressing but interesting question of whether (as casey believes) marc's team pushed casey out the door because they felt 'threatened'. this sort of backroom manoeuvring is part of the game, albeit an unsavoury one, and great athletes do have a tendency to be ruthless in asserting themselves within team environments

of course, by 2014 marc was asserting himself ever more on the track. dani might not have yet fully accepted the number two status, but he was increasingly pushed into a position where he knew he had to play along, to not kick up too much of a fuss in his own best interest. did that perhaps play a role in how all those 2013 complaints about marc's aggressive riding - not least when it caused dani to crash in aragon and effectively ended his title bid - died down a little in the following years? who's to say! of course, marc has been pretty open in admitting his abrasive approach to the teammate dynamic, which he was kind enough to shed some light on more recently in marc marquez all in. I assume pretty much everyone reading this will have watched marc marquez all in, but for reference I've still included a transcript of the relevant bits of marc marquez all in. here's marc talking about the teammate relationship:

Dani and I, now we get along great, and he's an amazing person. But in 2013, 2014, there was a lot of tension. He was the king, the number one. People listened to what he said in the box. Everyone expected something from him... The team was focused on him. And out of nowhere comes this kid. A kid in his first year after Moto2. And well, first race and... boom. Second race, boom. And it's a hard pill to swallow. [...] I've never been a nice teammate. I've always liked to... You've got to make your teammate's life impossible, if you can.

and dani's take:

Those years there was a lot of tension because we were fighting for the same thing. He knew about my potential. That's why he always tried to stick to me, so I had no space to really take off. [...] He's very competitive. That's his strong suit, how competitive he's always been with everything.

and then at the end of that segment, marc says the following:

It is true that after 2015, 2016, everything calmed down, and we had a good, normal teammates relationship. After a while, I think you learn to accept the situation, right? It happens, and I'm sure it'll eventually happen to me too.

which I suppose is a fairly diplomatic way of saying the relationship got better when marc had won the war and dani had to 'accept' his lot in life. the king is dead long live the king, etc etc. intra-team competition is perfectly natural, but of course that doesn't mean all riders approach that dynamic in the same way. dani's "I had no space to really take off" is a nice way of putting it I feel, how he talks about marc 'sticking' to dani, marc's determination to just continually work away at his teammate... to suppress him, to smother him, to ensure that not only was marc winning the war but he would keep winning the war. marc made that team his own and he ensured that dani's continued presence in that team was happening on marc's terms. a job very well done

marc is also remarkably open in describing one of the specific tactics he utilised to achieve the desired effect in suppressing his teammate. in marc marquez all in, he admits to intentionally giving misleading bike feedback when it could give himself an advantage over dani:

But back then we had a great bike, everyone worked well. So if a replacement piece worked for him, I didn't like it, "This doesn't work. I want this one. I want this replacement piece, since I'm leading it. I want it. Don't give him this." "You want to try it?" "Yeah, sure." But I didn't want to.

now, listen, I'm sure this kind of thing does happen. that being said. marc, come on, not everyone is engaging in this degree of underhanded behaviour wherein you're intentionally hampering your teammate's efforts to improve the bike just to ensure you continue to have an edge over them. let's make a casey stoner comparison, given that I am legally obligated to mention him in most of my posts. he is actually relevant here though, as dani's pre-marc teammate and the bloke who would have more likely than not been marc's teammate if he hadn't retired. casey talks a bit in his autobiography about working with pedrosa at honda, mentioning how it was nice to have a teammate with a similar pace so they could actually develop the bike together. he also says this:

I never felt threatened by a teammate because I have never had one that I felt was consistently quicker than me and throughout my career our biggest competition always came from outside the garage. Still, I have great respect for Dani, our partnership was a fruitful one and I think we worked really well together to help Honda build their best ever bike in the RC213V.

while I do quite like the implication that casey would have felt 'threatened' by any teammate who could match him, I think it's fair to say that this is a pretty different approach from what marc's describing above. of course, casey could be misleading us... but, call me naive or gullible or whatever, I really just don't think casey was pulling that kind of shit on his teammates. I'd go so far as to say that this kind of thing is maybe not quite as widespread as marc portrays it as being. it might also be worth quickly bringing in casey's thoughts on such a combative style of teammate relationship (from 2009):

probably for the best we never got to see how that particular teammate dynamic would have played out! also, luckily enough, we do actually have somebody who can corroborate that casey and marc behaved differently as teammates. let's get the thoughts of dani himself (april 2023, so after marc marquez all in had been released):

“At least in the team we were in, HRC, it was like this: the one who goes the fastest is the number 1, the one who chooses the parts and the one who determines the direction a bit. “When [Marc] arrived, I was in that position and with the races and the championships he took that position and decided in his own way. When I was directing more the evolution of the bike I had the parts first and I never thought in [my] own way. “My way has always been to do the best for the team, and if I have the best parts to make the bike the best, I'm not thinking about my rival right next door, but about Yamaha, Ducati... whoever the rival was, because I consider myself part of the brand. Later he had that other way of doing it. “I don't think I was missing [the same way as Marquez], because my way of being was that one. For example, before Marc came in, with Casey Stoner, he never played that game either."

so, yeah, maybe not completely universal behaviour. I don't know, I do find it kind of charming that marc has this very 'ah well everyone does it' attitude. now quite honestly I personally would not admit to this sort of behaviour even in confessional amazon prime documentaries - and it's fascinating what kinds of things he has a filter about and at what times he just decides to be, uh, very candid. I mean, I suppose this is a nice way of publicly forewarning any teammate who isn't your brother that you're going to try and make their life miserable. so that's something. anyway, marc did obviously win the internal war - which is the kind of thing that does matter if you're trying to impose your will on bike development... even if you're just doing so to fuck with your teammate. so by 2016 you reportedly had a situation where marc's direction was being followed to the extent that it harmed all the other honda riders:

But Pedrosa claims he had no input in the decision, and is now paying the price of having to compete on a bike built around Marquez’s preferences. The 30-year-old also said that he knew he would be in for a difficult time in 2016 as early as the Valencia test last November. "In the end we didn't have many specs [of engines], but out of the ones we had I wouldn't have chosen the current one,” Pedrosa admitted. "When we picked the bike I already knew things would be very hard. I already knew how the bike handled in November. But it is what it is. The choice of bike that we have was [Marquez's], I had nothing to do with it. For the moment, he's ahead and he deserves to be. He likes the bike, he adapts better to it, while I struggle more. That's obvious, you can see it in the results and in the way we ride." Pedrosa said the poor performance of Honda’s satellite bikes this season in comparison to previous years was yet further evidence of how the RC213V has been designed around Marquez’s needs. Cal Crutchlow’s sixth place at Catalunya has been the best result for a Honda rider besides Marquez and Pedrosa of the campaign so far. “You have to think of the team, not only about yourself,” Pedrosa added. “If you look at the rest of the Hondas, they are a lot further behind than two or three years ago, when you had [Stefan] Bradl or [Alvaro] Bautista finishing fourth or fifth. Now they are 10th and further [back]. So we have to try to get the other teams to work too."

obviously, to some extent teams following the lead rider and prioritising their feedback is completely natural and even wise - they're the one who is winning for you. it does also end up being a bit of a self-perpetuating cycle that makes the rider already winning more likely to continue winning, which helps explain why these riders are even so invested in their internal bickering. all that being said, of course it's worth noting that different riders conceptualise that teammate relationship differently, and the extent of intra-team cooperation can vary drastically. marc has a very particular understanding of that relationship when he is paired with anyone who is not his brother - one that is generally speaking pretty far along the combative end of the scale

unfortunately, we never really got to see how bad the whole marc and jorge (also not the easiest of teammates) situation could have gotten. in 2018, their relationship was definitely better than say 2013, but also jorge was still perfectly happy to criticise marc - whether after argentina, or that whole aragon incident they had

(marc did call jorge afterwards to check in on him, which jorge did appreciate.) but jorge never had the pace in his honda days to threaten marc, so nothing really got going between the two of them. if memory serves, the closest we ever got was catalunya 2019, where they had a bit of a coming together in practise - incidentally the first (and in retrospect only) weekend that season where jorge had potentially dangerous pace

But Lorenzo’s apology seemed to clear the air. Marquez explained that once he “was calmer” and the fear of dropping outside the all-important top ten had subsided, he could see the #99’s point of view. Marquez also noted how he was twice penalised in 2018 for similar actions to Lorenzo’s in FP3. He then pointed out how neither his team-mate, nor Joan Mir, who blocked the reigning world champion at one point during the Mugello weekend, were punished. Speaking to Spanish journalists after Saturday’s press conference, Marquez, said, “He [Lorenzo] apologised to me, because he was in the middle of turn three. While people can say it's only free practice, it was the third one, in which the last laps are like qualifying. “I was so angry because I knew that my lap was the one to enter Q2 directly. In the end I finished ninth, the worst classification of the year. It’s clear that last year I was twice in the middle of the track and on both occasions I was penalised. At Mugello I came across [Joan] Mir, we touched and everything and then at the end of FP3 it happened again with Lorenzo. But this happens... When it does everyone has to be judged equally. There is no difference. He simply apologised. Logically [after the session finished] I was calmer and I understood, because no rider waits in the middle of the track – or at least I hope they don’t."

obviously, this isn't like, a big deal, but in the moment it was one of those 'oooh maybe this'll go somewhere' incidents and the eternal drama enthusiasts in the commentary box were talking about it at the start of the race. like I said, that was jorge's first honda weekend where he was showing actual pace, so it felt like this might be building to something. except then, uh, jorge decided to skittle all of marc's rivals in one go in the race itself and somewhat hilariously managed to just miss marc. and then jorge got injured again the next race and it all just kinda fizzled out after that, so we never really got to find out what dramatics could have been possible there

and that's it as far as teammates prime!marc had in the premier class go. childhood rival pol espargaro took on the mantle for two years in 2021-22, at a time in which there was much kerfuffle about honda's development direction and whether they'd followed marc's path for too long. espargaro did attempt to assert himself in that team and they did try to develop the bike in a way that suited all the riders better rather than just marc, which *gestures at honda post-2020* worked insofar as marc also ended up in the trenches. that being said, pol was never a particularly serious threat to marc - aside from that one race to start off 2022, which maybe prompted a little bit of needle from marc (based on what the podcasts™ were saying at the time in any case) but nothing dramatic - so, y'know, that was kind of that. in those two years plus the year where marc had joan mir as his teammate, of course you can go into the weeds and dig out minor disagreements... but apart from the conversations around development direction and how marquez-centric honda should be going forward, it's just a bit of a different vibe when you're beefing for pee one million or who gets to be the leader of that year's crash rankings. of course, if you really want to stop marc from tormenting you, maybe you should just try being his literal brother. pecco, if you want any more useful advice like that: I offer very reasonable rates, just give me a call and we can hash something out

so, we've covered how the on-track stuff works and looked at the intra-team dynamic - what's next? time to explore a little more how marc goes about unsettling his rivals, how he attempts to give himself the decisive edge over his opponents... and also, what purpose this all serves when it comes to his own psychology. intimidating rivals typically has another underlying goal: it's about motivating yourself. it's about proving to your rivals just how far you'll go to beat them while proving as much to yourself in the same breath

again, at times we're a little light in terms of an actual paper trail of this intimidation... given that marc does like to take on the role of the aggressor in on-track disputes, often he doesn't even have to be the one to comment - and instead the onus is on his rivals to voice their dissent. there's also the issue that marc did have a paucity post-2015 in terms of 'serious title threats over the course of multiple seasons' - which, I don't know, this does feel like a thing somehow, you just don't really build feuds in a single season. even valentino, known feud enjoyer, always needed a little longer to really get something going. looking at marc's career, obviously you do have dovi, with whom he had a very cordial rivalry between 2017 to 2019... but the only year in which dovi was a serious title threat was in the first year of that rivalry, in 2017. after dovi's poor results in the first half of 2018, that title bid was essentially dead on arrival, and the 2019 title fight generously lasts until catalunya when jorge skittled the field minus marc. there's a couple marc rivalries with young challengers that looked like they were just about to kick off after 2019... but, well, we'll never find out how those would have played out. and it might be worth pointing out that in his prime, valentino's disagreements with riders who weren't serious threats to him winning titles didn't really go beyond what marc had going on with assorted other riders from 2016 to 2019. it's a bit of an open question if you want to attribute marc's lower number of feuds primarily to his actual personality and how it differs from valentino's, or whether you think it just reflects their respective competitive situations. the boring answer is that it's probably a combination of both of those things

that being said, obviously you can engage in a wee spot of psychological warfare without it escalating to feud level. now, let's get the obvious out of the way: marc and valentino were still very much at it post-2015. of course they continued to be deeply invested in their attempts to undermine and mess with each other. but, let's be honest, they're their own special little thing and it's just going to derail this post if I pay too much attention to them. there's a certain level of feuding where it becomes increasingly detached from any sort of actual competitive calculus and is more about a fraught relationship between two people who have managed to severely hurt each other. that being said, it's worth pointing out that marc was perfectly capable of using that feud to spur himself on. for the easiest evidence of that, just look at some of his misano performances... in 2017, valentino had just nerfed himself out of the title fight, whereas in 2019 he was no longer a serious threat to marc on-track. and yet despite how valentino wasn't the on-track rival marc should be concerning himself with, in both cases marc ended up using his valentino-related rage to find that little bit extra within himself in order to steal the victory

^from the marc (+ dovi) race rec post

there's plenty to be said about the misano 2019 qualifying incident, but let's set aside the specifics for now (though, speaking of towing-related drama, marc had again during fp3 shadowed valentino around the track, which... why are you hounding this man in misano of all places, marc). the whole kerfuffle certainly didn't hurt marc's race performance, and it's fair to say he seemed particularly thrilled with that victory. obviously, these were pretty pointed celebrations, very in your face, big fuck you to the nation of italy and valentino rossi specifically. celebrations like this are important in both what they're signalling to the enemy and what they're signalling to yourself. if there's one thing you can learn from valentino, it's that a celebration is a public message, and can function as a statement of sorts about what the victory 'meant'. what's the story you're telling with your victory? what do you want to take away from this race? what do you want your opponents to take away from it?

misano that year had come after marc's struggles in last lap duels, with the two races directly preceding it featuring last lap losses to dovi and alex rins respectively. now, on the one hand it's not always catastrophic on a psychological level to be constantly losing last lap duels... because in marc's case they did help reinforce just how dangerous he was, where even at his weaker tracks he would hound his rivals until the very end. on the other hand, obviously it's preferable to have a reputation for winning last lap duels as opposed to losing them - not least because it adds to how intimidating you are when you are locked in another last lap duel. valentino of course had a reputation for being lethally effective in that sort of situation, and it's nicely helpful if your enemies assume they're fucked when you're in their postcode with around three laps to go. I discussed this dynamic a little bit in how it relates to the sete rivalry here and here, which links back to the discussion of how you exert psychological pressure on the track. some relevant excerpts, plus some of my race notes:

marc is obviously more than capable of adopting similar tactics in his racing, but the sete rivalry still holds up as a really good demonstration of the kind of rewards you can reap through a steady diet of psychological intimidation. this is why it's so important to keep an edge over your rivals: you want them to be haunted by the ghosts of all your past on-track encounters whenever you're fighting to the point where it's detrimental to their actual riding. anyway, let's quickly check who marc was actually fighting with during the last lap of misano 2019, and whether that might have had anything to do with why marc was so thrilled to get the victory. oh, the rookie revelation of 2019 and the guy marc quickly identified as the big big threat of the future, you say? poor little fabio quartararo who still hadn't won a race yet, but who marc managed to dramatically deny on two separate occasions that year on the final lap? getting in early on the mission of building up some crucial psychological baggage, are we now?

obviously, and pretty tragically, this future investment on marc's part has ended up being completely irrelevant (unless yamaha wants to do something so so crazy for me and build a functioning bike before marc's hair goes grey), but equally obviously none of us knew that at the time. and fabio was able to take away some positives from the misano experience:

“I knew he would try something, but you never know with Marc,” said the Frenchman. “He can overtake and pull away because I really don’t know if he really saved his tyre. “The good thing was I could overtake him back, and this going home gives me a lot of confidence, to say ‘he’s a seven-time world champion, but we can overtake him’. So, he’s a human like us.”

because that's what it's all about, isn't it. giving the opposition the impression that you're not even human - and, even if fabio is saying the experience gave him 'a lot of confidence', imagine how much more confidence he would've gotten if he'd won. also, check out fabio's comment about not knowing whether marc had been saving his tyre. that's why the 'fucking about before fucking off' approach to races is so effective: because of how it generates uncertainty, it generates doubt, it makes your rivals wonder even during races whether there's a chance you're just toying with them

we do have a bit of a sample size issue here when it comes to assessing marc's celebrations, in that his two last lap duels with fabio came a) in valentino's backyard, and b) when marc sealed that year's title. it means that if the celebrations seem excessive, there's still other plausible explanations for why marc was so happy to get one over the rookie that aren't related to trying to bully fabio into submission for as long as he still could. did marc really use them as a way of reminding everyone, including fabio, including himself, of who's really in charge? again, you'll have to draw your own conclusions

I'm doing my best not to cover anything that's happening this year too much, since this is the stuff I'm assuming people reading are basically familiar with. but of course, if we're talking 'pointed celebrations' then there's also a few from this year that stand out. this isn't to say that marc's joy at his ducati successes have been anything other than genuine, that he isn't happy or relieved or revitalised by his current season... but, well, part of being revitalised is also being back in the game where fighting for titles is concerned. take the jerez celebrations, ecstatic in spite of losing a tight battle, openly loved and adored by his home crowd. look at how he's done his thing repeatedly this year of engaging with all these crowds, getting them to celebrate with him specifically. a cynic might say it's a way of reminding his opponents that they might be winning right now... but they should never forget who the crowds have really come to see. which would be charmingly valentino of him. while marc (probably wisely) never went too far in mimicking valentino's unique style of celebrations, he is an avid enough student to understand the importance of the theatre of victory. like in his third ever premier class race (from the jerez post):

racing is one thing, but it's always important to consider how you're reacting in both defeat and victory. like valentino before him, marc prefers not to openly show his rage. like valentino, more often than not he will be publicly magnanimous in defeat. like valentino, he's not adverse to twisting in the blade a little further in victory. like valentino, he's very much aware of when a camera is watching him. with marc, you can also observe how determined he is to appear unaffected and unbothered by the effects of sepang 2015 on his public image (except in displays of very carefully managed vulnerability like marc marquez all in). there's plenty of examples of this, but most relevant here is how marc concerns himself with not being openly affected by fans booing him. take blowing kisses to the misano 2017 crowd after his warm up crash... which, looking at his post-race presser comments, whatever he may say clearly (and understandably) did bother him. likewise, see the glee of the misano 2019 celebrations. with those celebrations, he's trying to tell you that not only does it not bother him that they're booing, but instead he relishes it. the more they do this, the more he will win

one more case study before we wrap this post up, this time using a specific rival to illustrate some of his more common tactics and how the spats he gets himself involved in generally play out. said rival is alex rins, who especially in 2019 had emerged as one of marc's prime challengers. now, before we talk about any disagreements between those two, I do have to mention that rinsy has a bit of history with the marquez family (this from 2016):

in the end, dani stayed on for another year and was replaced by another ageing spaniard marc felt confident he'd have the measure of while rinsy signed for suzuki - so it's very unlikely marc had to play any active role in blocking him from taking the seat. that being said, obviously the main takeaway is the bad blood stemming from alex marquez's moto3 title campaign and how alzamora organised that team around the younger marquez. god knows how rins felt about this by 2019, but I doubt he'd just forgotten about it. there's also this from 2020, which to me reads as a little dismissive about someone who was your teammate in moto3? I don't know, judge for yourself:

anyway, back to marc. the 'biggest' incident between the pair of them was a coming together in qualifying at brno 2019 (one of the all time great qualifying performances from marc by the way, well worth a watch):

During qualifying at Brno, cameras picked up the end of a tense tussle between MotoGP champion Marc Marquez and Suzuki's Alex Rins. The pair were caught putting some close passes on each other before pulling into pit lane, where they continued to 'duel' - until Marquez reached out with his arm to put some space between their machines. Marquez then over swapped to slick tyres and romped to pole position on the drying track, with Rins claiming sixth on the grid. "It's a tricky thing because for sure [Marc] is now one step in front of everybody. He put the slick tyres and he was super-fast. But I think he has no respect for the other riders. He is riding on his way," said Rins. "I will explain to you what happened: On Corner 5, he went a little bit wide and behind him was Miller and me. When he went wide, he looked back and saw Jack and me. Jack passed him, but then he went back onto the line and sincerely he disturbed me. I was pushing. I was not super-fast, but I was pushing. "So on the next left corner I tried to do my line. He opened a little a bit the door and I go in. I touched him, but I think it's his fault; if he is riding slow he needs to open the door and that's it. But anyway, then on the last corner he braked super-hard to overtake me [back]. Then when we were coming into the box I was in front of him and I go straight and he has no space to go by my side. If I was him, I would cut the gas…" "I ran wide at Turn 5 and Jack overtook me because I checked behind and I only saw him, so I tried to follow Jack because I know he had good pace. Then I went a bit too wide and there was a small space, but enough and [Rins] ran into me…" said the Repsol Honda star. “The funny thing was when we entered the box and the tyre wall was there [in front of me] and I didn’t have the space [to get through] because he was going that way. I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but for me it wasn’t important. I lose zero time on these sort of things.” Told Rins had said he had no respect for other riders, Marquez responded: “Of course I don’t agree with this, it is his opinion." "It's not the first time," Rins had explained earlier. "Everybody knows Marquez and everybody knows that he has an incredible talent, but also what happened in FP1 with Vinales was more-or-less the same. Marc loves to play this game and try to get in the head of other riders. But in my case I'm really calm. I just tell the truth and that's it." Asked if he thought he needed to try and get into Marquez's head, Rins responded: "No, I don't think so…. For sure if I'm fighting for the world championship with him I will try to do something, but he's 80 points in front of me - maybe he's scared, I don't know!" Austin winner Rins, who has fallen in the last two races, is fourth in the world championship.

their most significant race clash was in silverstone 2019, where alex got the better of marc in a very dramatic last lap duel. I've heard journalists make vague reference to marc not taking that loss particularly well, though... again. hard to actually pin him down on a lot of this! but we do have more extensive comments rinsy provided in early 2020 to work with, and he at least seems to agree with that assessment:

"Marc is so good at these mental things, he plays a lot with all the riders," Rins told the official MotoGP website. "For example in Brno last year, I was on a fast lap, he looked behind at me and opened the line a little bit, but not too much. I was on the dry line and I touched him. I lost my lap, but I continued pushing. Then in the last chicane he overtook me so closely, we were so close to a crash, and then he went into pit lane. From that moment, I said to myself, Marc is considering me as a rival." Rins - who declared "Marquez has no respect for other riders" immediately after the incident - got his revenge in the form of a thrilling last-corner victory pass on Marquez a few weeks later at Silverstone. "Marc is the man to beat and the rivalry is so high," Rins said. "More in 2019, because I shared more moments on track with him. For sure whenever he finishes just in front of me, I'm a bit angry, I want to beat him. But also for him. I remember when I beat him in Silverstone he was so, so angry." Rins added: "I like this because it means that I'm doing a good job. Marc is an incredible rider, winning a lot of races and championships, and if he thinks of me as a rival, it means I'm there fighting him." Rins took two wins on his way to a best-yet fourth in the 2019 MotoGP standings.

now, yeah... the problem is that this is all very much hearsay (but no more so than plenty of similar comments valentino's rivals made about him!) and rinsy could just be lying about this or misinterpreting it or whatever. we are very low on actual evidence for the stuff he says here. if you watch silverstone 2019 and the aftermath, you will not see a marc who visibly looks angry - of course you won't, because he almost never looks visibly angry. unfortunately, we don't have the chance to grill alex on why exactly he was left with this impression. at the end of the day, like with valentino, when it comes to evaluating the honesty of a lot of these character references you will just have to make up your own mind. like with valentino, some of these men will either be exaggerating the extent of the harm or just straight up making shit up. then again, like with valentino, the number of people who do seem to have the impression marc was fucking with them maybe suggests that there is something to these allegations

just a few things to note here... to highlight some of the common features that tend to crop up in these marc incidents:

there's the accusation of lack of respect towards other riders - valentino is the one who most infamously made that accusation in the aftermath of argentina 2018, but of course he's far, far from alone in making comments along those lines. marc certainly has a tendency towards being... uncompromising in his approach, shall we say, which can at times lean towards treating his competitors mainly as obstacles and inconveniences

the anger that's being attributed to marc. which he doesn't tend to directly express towards his competitors off the track! but if he is angry, it may instead... seep into how he approaches instances where they share space on-track, as well as affect his general demeanour towards them

there's rinsy suggesting marc is known for playing these games, that he does it a lot, and he's also known for being very good at them... which again is often something we only hear about indirectly, but of course it's interesting if that's the general paddock consensus

there's also rinsy's insistence that marc's games don't bother him at all - he's just calmly noting that marc's engaging in them! again, it's quite hard when you're familiar enough with valentino's oeuvre to not be slapped in the face with the similarity in some of the rhetoric their rivals use. doesn't mean all of these different dynamics are directly analogous, but it does speak to how determined the rivals in question tend to be in... y'know. telling themselves that they're above the whole thing. unfortunately, sometimes it is just very, very hard to be unaffected... and sometimes you're already losing by talking about it, because it shows you've been thinking about it

which, check out marc's response. 'oh, obviously I don't agree I lack respect' 'ah, I lose zero time on these things' (for another example of him using similar language, you could of course look to his comments about bez last year in valencia). this is marc's go-to - he generally quite likes to deny the existence of a problem, makes it sound like the whole thing is very one-sided... he keeps his distance and can maintain his poise and this veneer of neutrality, where he is not causing any drama. maybe the other guy's just imagining things! that's really not marc's problem, is it now

lastly, you've got this notion of marc messing with other riders selectively, and specifically doing it when he's identified you as a potential threat. again, maybe you think alex is reading too much into it! but equally, it's worth noting that we have as much evidence for marc messing with rinsy as we do for, say, valentino messing with casey in practise sessions in 2006 (as casey's autobiography claims). it would have been completely competitively reasonable for marc to identify alex rins as one of his primary threats in the future... and it would also not be hugely surprising if marc wanted to maintain a psychological edge over him

incidentally, at 2020 jerez rins and marc had another little run in during a practise session - where alex was left 'visibly frustrated' after marc was slowing down on the racing line while rinsy was completing a flying lap, which he ended up having to back out of. this denied rinsy direct entry into q2 (though marc didn't end up being penalised for it). of course, marc's jerez race reached an unhappy conclusion and rins was too injured to even start it, and after that they've never been even remotely close to fighting for a championship. though there's still a little bit of needle between the pair of them, mainly resulting from how rinsy ended up joining lcr honda in 2023 after suzuki departed the scene. there's marc's reasonably innocent comments in 2022, on a day in which rinsy won another last lap duel for the victory in phillip island:

"I will not give any advice," said Marquez. "For me it is another opponent. It’s good that joining Honda is one world champion [Joan Mir] and one rider that is winning races with another manufacturer. "Like this we will see exactly the level. I’m working really hard for the 2023 project with Honda and they are working really, really hard too. I don’t say I wish [him] the best. Let’s just go and see. He is another opponent, if not it would be fake’."

or here, take this from before mugello 2023, again mostly innocuous:

By contrast, Marquez believes Mugello is one of Rins’ best tracks and he wasn’t surprised to see the COTA winner at the sharp end. “No [I’m not surprised], because Rins, even with Suzuki, had 5-6 circuits where he is very fast and then others where he struggles more. Normally here with Suzuki, he was very fast and very consistent,” said Marquez, whose only premier-class win at Mugello was back in 2014. “He is really good in fast corners so, for example, in Le Mans he was struggling more than me and here he is very fast. It is good for Honda and Honda riders that someone is faster because like this you have more chance to look and compare the things.”

love being told I have "5-6 circuits" where I'm very fast. or take rinsy's innocent surprise that marc didn't end up winning at the sachsenring, and how he suggests it was maybe because of all the pressure marc had been feeling:

"It's hard, it tastes very bad to me because Marc has a fucking talent and it's not being easy at all,” Rins was quoted by DAZN. “But hey, in the end you have to turn the tables, you have to win, you have to build a winning bike. "Damn, I thought that Marc would also win in Germany. What happened? I don't know, I have no idea. Pressure, extra pressure, I have no idea.”

and then, of course, there was always that little hint of tension that came as a result of rinsy being honda's only race winner that year, at marc's beloved cota of all places... which became a bit of a discourse point (not always propagated by rinsy) to say that, hey, maybe the honda wasn't so bad after all... anyway, here's what marc said when rinsy signed for yamaha:

Repsol Honda rider Marquez was asked about Rins’ departure and answered: “I had an interview, they asked me about this rumour. I said ‘I don’t think so’ because Rins won a race and he said ‘it’s a good bike’. “So I didn’t expect this move. But then the day after! I’m happy for him, it’s a good move, he’s moving from a satellite team to a factory team. Yamaha has power and energy from the past.”

marc had said 'surely not' but then the very next day he was left shocked and taken aback! he'd thought rinsy loved the bike so much! he'd thought rinsy felt it was actually a good bike! he'd thought rinsy would never want to leave! how unexpected this whole thing was to him!

(there was also talk about rinsy's unhappiness at how honda treated him and his development feedback - but as there is less than zero evidence marc had anything to do with that, let's leave it there)

did marc really behave differently towards alex rins because he saw him as a threat? probably! possibly? probably! but he hasn't really felt the need to say as much. sometimes, you can fuck with people by staying silent, and sometimes you can fuck with them just because you have a reputation for mind games - which marc, like valentino, has acquired over the years. ideally, your on-track plus off-track presence gets to the point where you don't really need to do anything and can let your opponents engage in shadowboxing while you can spend your time in more useful ways. think of that excellent clip from motogp unlimited where poor joan mir complains about marc's towing, freaks out when he realises the press has said he's complained about marc's towing, and then goes to explain to marc how he hadn't actually complained about marc's towing. and marc, with the air of a man who has been high on painkillers for the past week and hasn't given joan much thought beyond contemplating how well he'd pair with potatoes, graciously accepts this explanation - which joan is painfully, obviously relieved by. marc wasn't playing any 'mind games' in this clip, he was just standing there. but sometimes that's all you've got to do! call it a good return on prior investment. (partly this is also just a result of the status the sheer extent of marc and valentino's successes provides them and, relatedly, their power and influence within the sport.) here, from one of oxley's books:

Once you've established a reputation for trickery, you can confuse people without doing anything. At this year's [2009] German GP Casey Stoner accused Rossi of attempting to confuse his rivals by scrubbing the white sidewall paint from his front slick; the paint denoting Bridgestone's softer compound tyres. In fact Bridgestone had run out of white paint (no, really), but the reality didn't matter because Stoner was sat on the grid, convinced Rossi was playing tricks when he should've been getting himself in the zone, focusing on his race.

that's the ideal, right: you don't even have to do the dirty work yourself because it's the reputation doing the work for you. marc inspires a similar effect on riders, where he just gets them to the point where they're spending way too much time hyper-analysing whatever he's doing at any given moment. which means that he doesn't actually need to be trying to fuck with anyone for the effect to still be the same. free and easy, what's not to love

so, that's it, more or less. all the on-track stuff, from 'how to build up an intimidating presence 101', to just being extremely annoying in non-race sessions, to trying to mess with your teammate, to more generally how you go about handling disputes with other riders. managing your motivation, their motivation, everyone's motivation. of course marc's not quite scaled the heights (yet) of cursing another rider to never win another race again - which, hey, nobody's perfect, but I think he's built together a fairly decent resume for himself! there's plenty more stuff you could get into here, c.f. 'everything that's been going on with ducati internal politics this year'... but this post is more than long enough, and you can follow all that stuff while it's actually happening. a few more related topics I've deigned outside of the scope of this post include how he generally manages perceptions of himself and his performance potential in ways that aren't targeted at any specific rival, for instance how he talks about his injury and has a tendency to change his tune depending on what's convenient at any given time, or how in the past he managed perceptions of the competitiveness of his honda package. likewise, I also haven't discussed the actual success rate of these tactics: let's not forget that trying to fuck with your rivals doesn't... always produce the effects you want it to. (sometimes just in kind of dumb ways, like I get messing with the rookie sensation but please try not to crash when catching a tow, marc. "marc clearly tried to get into fabio's head and I think he hit his head himself quite big." "so, I think it's karma. fabio's on pole and I hope marc is uninjured of course. but he tried to get in his head because he knows fabio is fast." not ideal!) but, hey, the most important thing is he's trying hard and having fun. or something

because that's the thing, right. when you are attempting to exert psychological pressure on your opponents, when you're trying to weaken your rivals, inevitably this also has an effect on you. there are athletes who prefer to completely ignore their opponents and act as if they are essentially competing on their lonesome. neither valentino nor marc fall into this category. as a result, how you behave towards your rivals inevitably also becomes at least in part about motivating yourself. you are attempting to focus your mind in some way - whether it is to see your rival as an enemy or to simply distance yourself from them or otherwise. you may even be minded to treat your rival particularly warmly, knowing they are less likely to give you grief if you have ensured the interpersonal relationship has remained amicable... maybe even looking for a slight psychological edge if they are not sufficiently motivated to beat you. maybe that too is about managing your reputation and drawing a line under past unfriendlier rivalries, to distinguish your most beloathed rival from all the others. you may need to find a way to keep the fire within going, to reinvigorate yourself even in periods of relative competitive tranquillity by giving yourself something to be angry at, a reason to fight and to win out of spite... finding reasons to care, again and again and again. celebrating with exuberance not just because you are genuinely filled with joy but also because you need to be filled with joy - so that you can find it within yourself to keep fighting. there's never just one brain involved in the arena of psychological warfare. to succeed in sports the first person you have to play mind games on, after all, is yourse- *gets taken out by sniper rifle*

#funny editorial choice in marc marquez all in is that two separate bits of footage for the dani/marc segment are from sepang 2015 #plenty of nervous energy from marc that had fuck all to do with dani walking up behind him #tigerbalmpng #idol tag #//#batsplat responds #btw I find every single thing I put in this post good and fun. it's sports they're supposed to be assholes #'he ruined honda!!!!' good. he finished what valentino started #brr brr #essay tag

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otomehonyaku · 6 months ago

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Diabolik Lovers Grand Edition Tokuten Special Booklet Short Stories ☽ Mukami ver. ☽ The Rainy School Night Mystery

Original title: 雨降る夜の学校の怪 English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the scans (special thanks to @karleksmumskladdkaka!) Sakamaki ver. ☽ Year-End Pandemonium (coming soon)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This short story booklet was part of the limited edition release of Grand Edition! Keep reading below the cut for the second short story, featuring the Mukami brothers. I will translate the Sakamaki one at a later date!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Droplets of rain tapped against the window panes and quickly converged into small streams, drawing curved lines on the glass on their way down. The rain had started the day before yesterday and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Maybe that might have been why, by the time the oppressive humidity began to make everyone feel uneasy…

“Hey, Kitten. I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

With a smile bright enough to wipe away any worries caused by the weather, Mukami Kou—the idol with a household name—approached Komori Yui in a friendly manner. His presence caused a stir among the other students around them.

Yui grabbed Kou by the sleeve of his uniform jacket and quietly uttered, “Kou, we’ll stand out if we talk here…”

“Alright!”

Yui was puzzled by Kou’s unusually good mood, but followed him to a spot that would keep them away from prying eyes.

“Kou… Did something happen?”

“I heard a very interesting rumour. I thought I’d ask you about it, too.”

“A rumour?”

“Yes! It’s a little strange for this time of year, but it’s about a ghost story. Apparently, most of the students and teachers are familiar with it. Have you heard about it?”

“No… What’s it about?”

As soon as he realised Yui was completely oblivious, Kou gleefully talked away..

“Apparently, when it’s very late on a night of endless rain, when most people have left the school… strange sounds start coming from one of the classrooms.” Kou lowered his voice in an attempt to stoke her fear. “Nobody knows exactly where the sounds are coming from. It could be an empty classroom, the art room… You can hear it from various places depending on the day.”

“And… it couldn’t just be a burglar?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I haven’t heard anything about things going missing, and even if that were the case, wouldn’t the police have been involved already? There’s also rumours going around about it being the students’ own doing, but apparently there are scratch marks in the rooms where the sound came from. Like, in places higher up than the curtains, so people generally wouldn’t be able to reach that high.”

With the odds of it being a student prank getting smaller by the minute, Yui’s throat grew dry. She swallowed loudly.

There shouldn’t be any sounds coming from an unoccupied room. The first thing that came to Yui’s mind was an unscientific explanation—something she would rather not think about.

“So, you mean… it’s a ghost?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! People are saying it might be a ghost.”

“But couldn’t the sounds be coming from the building itself (1)? I heard that ‘strange sounds’ people hear inside their houses are usually just the rattling of the building.”

“But that’s so boring, Kitten! Ghosts are way more interesting than rattling houses! Besides, people think it’s a ghost for good reason.”

“W-what reason…?!”

The way Kou purposefully explained it to her with such kindness, patience, and in such detail, made Yui shiver. A broad grin spread across the vampire’s face as he pulled Yui’s body closer while surveying their surroundings as if he was afraid of being caught, and started whispering into her ear.

“Some students have already snuck into the building at night as a test of courage, and apparently they saw dark shadows along with the strange sounds they heard. If it had been only one or two students spreading the rumour, it wouldn’t be a very credible story, but when so many people have had the exact same encounter, it’s difficult to still call it a trick of the mind, right? There’s also some students who claim they saw arms wrapped in bandages emerge from the darkness, at the exact timing that the lightning struck outside.”

“Oh…”

“Hm? What’s wrong, Kitten? You look a bit pale.”

“It’s because of your strange story…”

“Hehe! How cute. It’s going to be alright, Kitten. I’ll be by your side, after all.” Kou met Yui’s frightened eyes and shot her a sweet smile to put her at ease. “I’ll protect you. So… it has been a bit boring with all this rain lately. Shall we do some nightly exploration of the school for ourselves so we can figure out the truth behind the rumours?”

“What?!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

“W-wait a minute! Where are we going?”

Kou, who would not have taken ‘no’ for an answer either way, grabbed Yui’s hand and hurried pulled her along, down the hall. He swiftly dodged the students who were already starting to head home at this hour.

“W-wait! Slow down…”

“But there’s no time like the present, right? Besides, if we don’t hurry, my fans will only try to pull me aside. Let’s go to the others quickly!”

Kou led her in the direction of a far-away third-year classroom.

When the two of them walked through the door, the other Mukami brothers were already there. Yuma was straddling a chair, Azusa lingered by the window, and Ruki stood leaning with his back against the wall, his arms crossed.

“Hi, everyone! Sorry to keep you waiting. I brought our little Kitten!”

“You’re late, Kou. I was this close to goin’ home, even though you urged us to stay here ‘n wait.”

The discontent was plain on Yuma’s face. Kou muttered a half-serious apology to him and let go of Yui’s hand.

“Eve… did you run on your way here? You sound… out of breath…” Azusa tilted his head slightly to the side in concern for Yui.

“I’m okay, Azusa. Thank you.”

“Kou… If you need something from us, why gather us on campus?”

“Hehe. That’s because I need you all to be at school for this, ” Kou said, still beating around the bush.

Ruki glared daggers at his brother. Knowing he could not hold it off much longer, Kou decided to explain the situation.

“I was talking with Kitten about this earlier, but I heard an interesting story and I’d like you to know about it too! Have you heard the rumour that a ghost is haunting the school?”

“The one that’s making strange noises at night? I heard my classmates talkin’ ‘bout it.” Yuma clearly just wanted to know what mischief Kou was up to, making the blonde’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“Oh, so you already know. Word certainly travels fast among the third-years.”

Ruki had a glaring suspicion about Kou’s intentions and decided to drive the point home before his brother could do it himself. “I suppose you weren’t going to ask us to look for the ghost with you, were you?”

“Hehe, bullseye!” Kou smiled broadly.

“Seriously? It’s just a rumour, though,” Yuma replied, sounding exasperated.

“How old are you? Don’t get so excited about this, Kou. Ghosts do not exist.” Ruki was referring to the fact that when someone dies and the moment their body perishes, a peculiar thing called the ‘soul’ perishes along with it. Ghosts were merely ridiculous fantasies; illusions invented by humans. Only ignorant children would be afraid of them… right?

However, Kou had already expected this reaction from Ruki and did not back down.

“Heh… I don’t think it’s good to decide that ghosts aren’t real without confirming anything ourselves. Right, Kitten?”

“Huh…? M-me?”

“Do you really believe this nonsense?” When Ruki turned to her, Yui instinctively straightened her spine.

“Not necessarily, but… It sounds a little scary, I think, but whether they’re actually real is another thing…”

“Kou, do you… really think the ghost… will appear? It might have just been… a trick of the mind, you know?”

“Of course I don’t believe the ghost actually exists.I don’t sense any other supernatural presences around here either, besides ourselves and the Sakamakis. Doesn’t that make you all the more interested in the hype around this ghost story?”

Ruki’s curiosity was piqued, if only a little, at Kou’s words. “Hm… You do have a point.”

It was easy to dismiss urban legends like this right away, but if there was a reality to this particular ghost story, that would change things.

“And what if people besides us are purposefully stirring up a ruckus at the academy? We can’t let that slide, right? So, I want to expose the truth behind these rumours! It won’t be fun if it’s just the four of us, though, so that’s why I brought Kitten with me.”

“I-I’m not going! Walking around the empty building at night sounds scary enough already, let alone when an actual ghost shows up…”

If the Mukami brothers could barely even make sense of the situation, didn’t that mean there was an actual chance a ghost was haunting the premises? When Yui thought of it like that, a chill ran down her spine.

“Heh, sounds fun!” Yuma put a hand on the back of the chair he’d been straddling and stood up with great vigour. “If she’s coming, I’m in, too!”

Yui was taken aback by his enthusiasm. “Yuma?!”

“I knew you’d come around, Yuma! Hey, Ruki. Please join us!”

“Alright. I do not care for ghosts, but I agree that we have to find out who’s causing all this trouble.”

“Right? Azusa, you’re coming too, aren’t you…? Azusa? Hello—?

“...”

Even as Kou’s eyes intently watched Azusa’s puzzled expression, the younger brother still didn’t answer. He raised a hand to his mouth as if in deep thought. Thinking it strange, Yui instinctively called out.

“Azusa?”

“Huh? Ah, I’m sorry… If you’re all going… then I will join you.”

“Great, that settles it! Let’s wait here for a bit until the school empties out.”

“H-hold on a second… Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Your opinion does not matter. Were you thinking of going home all by yourself, then?” Ruki said.

“Oh…” Met with four stares that left little room for protest, Yui reluctantly went along with their plans.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Several hours passed.

By the time all lights in the academy had been turned off and the emergency exit signs were the only source of light in the halls, the five began their search. The building had fallen completely silent. Only their footsteps and the distant sound of the rain outside could be heard.

Kou pulled Yui along by her hand and walked slightly ahead of the others.

“Hey, Kou… I don’t like going first.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll be even scarier if something appears…”

“It’s okay, really! You can lag behind if you want, but something might creep up behind you.”

“L-like what?”

“Who knows? But I’m right in front of you and Ruki and the others are right behind you. Don’t you think this is the safest position for you to be in?

Though Kou encouraged Yui to move to whatever position she wanted, she felt unable to do so. She decided to quietly follow behind Kou. They had been walking around the school for a little while now, but had not noticed anything out of the ordinary yet.

Fed up with their aimlessly walking around, Yuma began to complain. “Hey, Kou. Nothing’s happened so far.”

“You’re too impatient, Yuma. We haven’t even been walking around for that long.”

“I feel no other presences nearby, nor have I heard that particular ‘sound’ you were talking about. Do you think it’s wary of us?” Ruki whispered, frowning as he surveyed his surroundings.

“Hey… If this really is a ghost’s doing, what do we even do? It probably won’t worship us or anything…”

Ignoring Yui’s worries completely, Yuma clutched his stomach and could not keep from bursting into laughter. “Pff, haha! You dummy. Why’d it worship us?”

“Because—isn’t that what they say about ghosts? That they worship people?

“Then they’d only worship you.”

“What…?”

“They only worship people, right?”

Yui tilted her head to the side, not quite understanding what Yuma was saying right away, but Ruki filled her in.

“Because we are vampires, after all. Besides, I don’t understand why you would be afraid of something as abstract as ghosts.”

“But… You never know! They might worship vampires too!”

While Yui desperately clung to her theory, Azusa and Kou decided to rub salt in the wound.

“I think… we’re stronger than ghosts, though...”

“I know, right? I think they’d be repulsed rather than worship us.”

“Ah…” With nobody agreeing with her, Yui felt her position becoming more and more vulnerable. On top of being forced into this situation, she was the only one who was actually scared.

Kou watched her intently, an almost reproachful expression on his face. “Oh, this won’t do. Even if you pout at me that way, I’ll just think you’re cute. But hey, I’ll protect you whatever happens, so stay calm, alright?” He winked at her in a way only an experienced idol could.

When Yui thought about it, being surrounded by four vampires—former humans, but still—probably was the safest position for her to be in, oddly enough. There was no way vampires would lose to an intangible ghost.

However, precisely because they were dealing with something intangible made it difficult for Yui to suppress her nerves. She desperately fought to keep the fear from overtaking.

The five walked around for a little while longer, Yui securely in the middle, but nothing happened.

“This is weird… Maybe it really is wary of us, like Ruki said. I wonder if it doesn’t like being ganged up on by a large group of people.”

“How about we split up then?”

“Right! If we go in small groups, the ghost might be more motivated to come out.”

“What…?! I don’t like the idea of splitting up.”

“We’re not asking for your opinion. That said, you would be in trouble if we left you alone, so… Yuma?”

Yuma looked puzzled when Ruki called his name. “Huh? What, Ruki?”

“Keep her company. If one of us goes with her, we’ll be able to swiftly deal with any unforeseen situations.”

“Yeah, true… Alright, Kou. We’re switchin’.”

Kou complied with Yuma’s demand, though the displeasure was clear on his face. The blonde might have rebelled against this change if Yuma had been the one to ask, but Ruki’s orders, on the other hand, were simply to be followed.

“Ah, what a shame. I was looking forward to holding hands with Kitten for a little longer.”

Kou reluctantly let go of Yui’s hand and surrendered his spot to Yuma.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that, Yui and Yuma split up from the rest of the group and began exploring the school anew.

It’s so quiet when it’s just the two of us walking around… Not feeling brave enough to speak up, Yui kept quiet and followed Yuma. I hope we can meet up with the others soon… If the ghost comes out now, I wonder if we’ll make it to them if we run.

“Hey, Sow… Why’re you shufflin’ behind me the entire time? Go out in front.”

“What?! N-no! I can’t!”

“There ain’t no way in hell that ghost is real, so no need to be such a scaredy-cat. You’re only makin’ yourself look more like an idiot.”

“I-I don’t care if I look like an idiot…! Some things are meant to be feared!”

“Ha! There ya go again… If I wanna leave , I’ll leave!” As if to get the irritation out of his system, Yuma banged his fist against the wall beside him.

Yui’s eyes snapped shut for a brief moment, but she did not flinch when she returned Yuma’s gaze, his face suddenly much closer than before.

“But…”

“But what?”

“Don’t you think… if vampires exist, then ghosts might exist too?”

“Hm… Sounds pretty funny comin’ from you, but nah, they don’t exist.” One corner of Yuma’s mouth curved upwards into a mocking grin. He let out a laugh. He seemed pretty convinced that ghosts were not a thing of this world.

CLATTER—!

“...!”

A clattering sound suddenly came from one of the classrooms. It startled Yui, making her tremble. “That wasn’t… in my head, was it?”

A lick of ice-cold fear slid down Yui’s spine. She quickly hid behind Yuma.

“You… Why’re you hiding? You’ve got some guts usin’ me as a shield.”

“B-but…” She could not find the words to speak—she was simply too scared. She crouched in on herself behind Yuma in an effort to hide.

The sound seemed to have come from the empty, unused classroom near them. It was pitch-black. Nobody seemed to be inside.

“I’m gonna go look.”

“What?! W-wait, Yuma!”

Yuma ignored Yui’s pleas and opened the door to the classroom. He thoroughly inspected the room, but still, there was not a soul in sight. As though expecting someone to be hiding, Yuma set foot into the classroom.

“Y-Yuma, don’t! It’s dangerous!”

“Ha! You’re scared shitless, aren’t ya? Just wait here. I’ll only have a quick look inside.”

The only thing coming in from outside was the sound of the rain. Not even a sliver of moonlight fell into the room. The ominous darkness gradually swallowed Yuma’s form whole as he walked farther away.

Oh no… If something comes out at me, I’ll…

Yui’s heart hammered against her ribcage, and just when her eyes inadvertently fluttered closed—she felt something brushing up against her leg. Goosebumps rose on her skin. She couldn’t keep her voice from leaking.

“Eek!”

Yuma rushed back when he heard her cry out, but still found no traces of anything lurking in the shadows close to where Yui was standing, nor in the deserted classroom.

“Damn, don’t scream like that! I thought somethin’ happened!”

“B-but… something… touched my leg…”

“What?! What the hell was it?”

In the end, the two never figured out what it could have been. The sky, still clouded with heavy rain, slowly started to become brighter.

“Shit. It’s close to mornin’ already. Hey, Sow? We should get back to Ruki ‘n the others. We’re done for today.”

“For today? You don’t mean…” A heavy sense of dread fell upon Yui, but she did not need to finish her sentence.

The anxious look on her face made Yuma’s lips curl up into a sadistic smile.

“We’ll be back for round two tomorrow.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next night, Yui was accompanied by Azusa on their rounds through the school hallways. Yui kept a tight grip on Azusa’s left arm and had no intention of letting him go.

“Eve… If you hold on to me like that… it’s a bit difficult to move…”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry, Azusa! I’m still not quite used to this…”

“...”

“Azusa?”

“Ah… What is it…?”

Yui was even more unsettled by Azusa’s restlessness. He’s been lost in thought the entire time, she thought.

“Hey, Azusa? Is something wrong…? You haven’t seen the… g-ghost, have you?”

“Huh? Oh, no… I haven’t.”

“Ah… That’s a relief.”

“Are you… really that scared? Then… here.”

“Huh…?”

Azusa came to a halt and pulled Yui into a hug with his other arm, gently patting her back as he whispered into her ear. “Eve… I’m here with you. Even if something comes after you… I’ll protect you. But… are you maybe worried… that it’s just me…?”

“No, not at all… Thank you. I think I might be a little less scared now.”

“I’m glad… to make myself useful.” Azusa smiled softly, but then his gaze quickly shifted to the window.

He really is worried about something… I wonder what’s gotten into him…

Once again, the night ended without them coming any closer to finding the source of the strange sound.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Along came the third night of exploring the academy.

Carefully calculating when the building would empty out, the five once again split up and made their rounds. The never-ending rain had abated into a drizzle for a brief moment, but before long, it was pouring once again. The weather showed no signs of letting up.

“It really won’t stop raining. It would be nice to be able to see the moon, though…”

The night sky was covered by heavy rain clouds. Yui had been looking out of the window while she was walking down the hall, but in the meantime, Ruki—who had been right next to her only a moment earlier—had already put several steps in between them. Yui half-ran to catch up to him.

“You seem awfully careless today. Have you already overcome your fear of ghosts?”

“N-not exactly, but… This is the third day already, so it’s getting a little… Ah!”

Maybe Yui’s attention slipped because she was relieved to walk beside Ruki again, as she suddenly stumbled and nearly fell over. Ruki immediately extended his arms, swiftly catching Yui and keeping her from falling.

“T-thank you…”

“If you let down your guard like that, bad things will happen—like this, for example.”

“Huh…?”

The ominous tone of Ruki’s voice caught Yui’s attention. She tilted her face upwards to look at him.

Ruki looked pointedly somewhere behind her, nodding in the same direction as if to urge her to do the same. Yui’s hands were braced on his upper arms as he held her, and her grip only tightened at the thought of something being at her back.

“I-is something there?”

Yui was hit by an indescribable wave of anxiety. Her breath involuntarily caught in her throat, but she bolstered her resolve and gingerly looked over her shoulder.

There was nothing but the long, dark, gloomy hallway stretching out behind her.

“N-nothing’s there, right? Wait, were you… Huh…?”

“You said you’d gotten used to it, right? I figured I’d test you. It seems like you don’t have your fear under control just yet, though.”

“Ah…!”

Yui’s cheeks flushed bright red. Had Ruki really been toying with her, even though he knew she was scared?

“That’s not fair…! You can’t just play with me like that… I’ve gotten a little more used to walking through the dark hallways, but you know I’m scared of ghosts…!”

Yui crouched down on the ground, her face between her knees, both mortified and scared beyond her wits. Any regular male student might have been worried, might have tried to calm her down, but Ruki showed no signs of showing her such kindness.

“Don’t make a fuss. How long are you going to sit like that? If you don’t feel like moving, I’ll leave you here.” Quickly dismissing Yui’s worries, Ruki did not bother to cast her another glance and began walking away.

“Oh… W-wait up!”

Not knowing where to direct her fear and frustration with being ignored, Yui’s head was full of chaos. Still, she would not be able to bear being left alone like this, and so she hurried back to Ruki.

Yui felt herself grow stiff while she walked behind him. Just then, a strange sound reached her ears.

“...Did you hear that?”

“It came from that classroom. Do you want to check it out?”

It was a different sound from the one she had heard with Yuma the day before yesterday. This one clearly sounded like someone was rummaging around… and it kept going.

“Ruki…”

“There’s definitely someone here.”

Ruki opened the door to the classroom with great force.

The moonlight did not quite reach the room because of the heavy rain—it was darker than the hallway had been—and the unoccupied desks and chairs were nothing but eerie silhouettes.

When Yui’s eyes had gotten used to the darkness, though, she saw someone standing there with her back to her—someone familiar. Recognition struck her.

“Huh… Azusa?” The words just slipped out.

At Yui’s surprised voice, Azusa slowly turned around to face them. He looked just as surprised to see them. “Eve… Ruki…”

“Azusa? What are you doing here?” Ruki took a step forward and had barely finished speaking…

And then, it happened.

“Found you—!”

Yui looked in the direction of the voice reverberating through the hallway, she spotted Kou running towards them. Their eyes met. Kou raised his voice as if he’d known all along how this would end.

“Grab it, Kitten!”

“What?!”

Yui followed Kou’s finger pointing ahead. A small, black shadow darted out in front of him. Kou had clearly ordered her to catch it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it right away. While she stood there hesitating for a moment, the black shadow collided with her chest on its own.

Out of sheer reflex, Yui wrapped her arms around it immediately. It felt heavier than she’d thought, and softer to the touch. The unexpected sensation almost made her drop it, but she regained her posture and held it tightly.

“Nice catch, Kitten!”

Kou was out of breath, having run at full speed, as he pointed at the black lump in Yui’s arms. “That’s… the cause… of the ghost story… the source of the sounds… is that cat.”

Yui suddenly realised she was holding a black cat. Its tail pointed upwards, the fur fluffed up as it eyed Kou suspiciously. In an effort to calm down the evidently upset cat, she gently stroked its back. “It’s okay… Don’t be scared…”

“Wow… Have you seen the way it’s staring at me?” Kou breathed.

“Isn’t that because you were chasing it?”

“I had to! Of course it’s going to run if someone tries to catch it.”

“Hey, hey! What’s with all the—what the fuck! What’s that black thing?”

Yuma burst into the room after having heard the commotion. Yui had only just managed to calm down the cat a little, but in response to Yuma’s voice, the black cat’s tail fluffed up again.

“Whoa, that’s a pretty rough-lookin’ cat… But wait, what’s a cat doing on campus?”

A nod from Ruki confirmed his brother’s unspoken suspicions. “If this cat is the cause of the ghost story going around, I wonder how it managed to sneak into the academy and cause such an upheaval.”

If the cat had snuck in while the students and teachers were on campus, it could not have gone unnoticed. The fact that nobody was aware of a cat on campus must mean that it had snuck in sometime late at night, when the school was already empty.

However, that still begged the question how it came in. The campus was built in such a way that it seemed unlikely for the cat to have come inside easily. If that was the case, maybe someone had purposefully lured the cat inside and hidden it from everyone…

How did this little one even get here…? Yui was at a loss as she stared at the black ball of fur in her arms, but the only response she got from it was a loud meow.

Azusa, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly joined the conversation. “I’m sorry… Actually, this cat… is here because I was… looking after it…” He apologetically raised his right hand.

“Huh? Azusa, you’ve been taking care of this cat…?”

“Yeah… I’ll talk you through what happened…” Azusa began explaining the origins of the ghost story and how the cat had infiltrated the school. “About a month ago… I found this cat in the school courtyard, but…”

Azusa’s story went something like this: one day, he had found a weakened black kitten. He had given it something to eat and soon began to look after it. Even after it had mostly recovered, the heavy rain continued to fall, and Azusa had felt the need to keep checking in on it out of sheer worry.

As he suspected, the cat had fallen ill again after a while. Azusa had pitied the little black cat and made sure to gently stroke it and talk to it. Eventually, he brought it to this classroom so he could take better care of it.

“Oh, Azusa, you’re too kind,” Kou said, carefully approaching the cat so as to not startle it, and petted it. The cat seemed to have gotten a little more used to him. It was more docile now, allowing Kou’s gentle touch.

“That’s not… true… In the end, I only… ended up scaring the cat…”

“What do you mean?”

“When the cat became healthier… I got a little careless… After it escaped from this classroom where I’d been taking care of it… I lost track of where it went…”

“So that means this cat roamed the school at night, and the kids mistook the sounds it made for a ghost… and that led to the ghost story?”

Azusa nodded in response to Yuma’s question. “I think those sounds… must have been the cat running away or playing around… and when I couldn’t find it for a while… it must have been hiding somewhere… because it was scared…”

“Yeah, that’s fair… It’s pretty scary to be chased around, after all.”

Kou nodded exaggeratedly, but the brothers’ reactions were pretty mild overall, as though these kinds of things happened on the regular. Yui thought it strange, but tried to gloss over it by shooting Azusa one more question.

“The students were talking about an ‘arm wrapped in bandages’ poking out from the darkness… So that was…”

“Yeah… They must have seen… me. As soon as I heard the rumours about the ghost… and knowing about the cat, it just clicked… so, lately… I’ve been looking for it by myself…”

“Ha… so that’s it. That ghost story was brought to life just ‘cause of Azusa and this black cat.”

“Good grief… You certainly caused trouble.”

With all questions answered, Yuma and Ruki looked even more exasperated than before.

“Azusa… Of all places to take care of a cat, you should not have done it at school. If you’d just taken it home, it wouldn’t have caused such a stir.” (2)

“I thought it might… bother you…”

“Well, that’s Azusa for you. But this wouldn’t have inconvenienced us at all! We’re brothers, right?” Kou said light-heartedly in an effort to cheer up Azusa, whose eyes were downcast.

“Of course. Don’t be so reserved, Azusa.”

Touched by the kindness of his brothers, Azusa smiled cheerily. “Yeah… Thank you, all of you…”

“So, uh… What do we do with the cat?” When Yui handed the cat over to Azusa, it began loudly purring in his arms.

“How about we bring it home with us?”

“I don’t mind either.”

The cat could suffer a grim fate if we leave it here like this and someone else finds it… What if it becomes weak again? What if it dies?

“Ruki… Would it be alright if we took it home?”

Everyone’s eyes naturally shifted to Ruki.

“We can’t decide that so easily. If the cat belongs to someone who lives somewhere around the campus, shouldn’t we return it to its home? Don’t they say that dogs tend to be attached to their masters, and cats are attached to their homes?”

Ruki had a point, but Kou was not yet convinced, especially seeing how Azusa felt for the cat he’d been taking care of for so long. “But look how attached it is to Azusa…”

“Thank you, Kou… I’m alright… The cat’s happiness is… the most important, after all…”

“Well, if Azusa’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it… Ah, I’m so tired from chasing the cat. Hey, Kitten. Can I lay my head in your lap (3) when we get home?”

“What?!”

The subject of the conversation shifted from the cat to something else so quickly that it almost gave Yui whiplash.

When Yuma joined in as well, it became even more confusing. “Hey, Kou. You’re not the only one who’s tired! You don’t get to keep all the fun for yourself.”

“But I worked really hard, you know? Don’t you think I deserve to ask for a small reward?”

“I don’t. I ran pretty damn hard myself! Hell, I was the only one who actually ran.”

“What? How do you know? I definitely ran the hardest!”

“Nah, I did!”

“I’m telling you, I did!”

Kou and Yuma’s bickering escalated quickly, neither of them realising their fight was getting farther and farther away from the issue at hand.

“Christ, this is not worth fighting over.”

“But… it’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

Ruki averted his eyes, clearly fed up with his brothers’ antics, while Azusa warmly watched over the two.

It would be nice if they forgot about the laying–his-head-in-my-lap thing, too… Yui thought. When her gaze flicked to the window, she noticed that the rain that had plagued the city, pouring incessantly for days on end, had let up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A little while later, the black cat left the campus, and the ghost story that had haunted the academy quickly receded into the students’ and teachers’ memories.

THE END

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

家鳴（やな）り：Lit. the ‘rattling of a house,’ meaning things like creaking windows, the air vents, the sounds you sometimes hear when the walls or window panes expand due to moisture or heat, things like that.

Not a translation note but Ruki, sir, with your history of ‘taking care’ of cats, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…

膝枕（ひざまくら）: Lit. ‘knee/lap pillow,’ meaning to use someone’s lap as a pillow, laying your head in someone’s lap.

#this story was so fun to translate omg. azusa my BABY!!!!!#and i also want ruki to scare the living daylights out of me tbvh..... please......#i tend to take some (small) creative liberties when translating longer texts just to make the story flow better btw #so other japanese-speaking people: pls don't come for me haha #also i'm sorry for being so slow this week my summer break is over and i had to get back to work again so i've been a little tired aaa #next up is something very exciting though............. which i'll also be able to release in smaller parts!#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers translations #diahell #otomehonyaku #my translations #mukami ruki #ruki mukami #mukami kou #kou mukami #mukami yuma #mukami yuuma #yuuma mukami #yuma mukami #mukami azusa #azusa mukami #diabolik lovers grand edition

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