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astonmartinii · 6 months ago

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

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

chapter one: an offer you can refuse

years of solitude has led y/n y/ln down a dark path following her career-ending injury in 2022 but one rookie seems dead set on bringing her back into the fray

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

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“have you seen this?”

it’s too early in the day to be subjected to twitter in y/n’s opinion, but her manager - the one she’s always insisted in not needing - insists upon it. sara’s hand shakes as she hands over her phone, the video already playing loudly.

the video is a poorly clipped together compilation of kimi antonelli, for no better word, gushing about her. it’s earnest and even cute, but not cute enough. the formula one paddock was a vulture pit, one y/n had only escaped three years earlier with her life - barely.

“it’s cool. that’s all it is though,” y/n moves towards the door, picking up her coat and refusing to turn back towards sara, “i’ve told you since jenson insisted i hire you, there’s no way in hell i will ever go back to that paddock. and that’s the end of it, please. i’ll do any stupid vitamin ad or female empowerment talk if it makes you happy, but i can’t go back there.”

y/n grabbed her keys and left the apartment, leaving sara in her wake. sara reached into her pocket and pulled out a tattered letter with ‘y/n’ scrawled on the front in awful handwriting. she left it on the kitchen island and left, understanding this was likely to be her last time in this apartment - there's stupid and there's what she was doing right now, there was no way she would still be employed in the morning.

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girlsonthegrid

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 103,478 others

tagged: yourusername

girlsonthegrid: today we look back at the biggest what if for women in formula one - y/n y/ln. the 26-year-old drove for mclaren from 2020 to 2022 before she sustained a career-ending injury at silverstone. y/ln was the first ever female f1 race winner with her emphatic victory at monza in 2021 and the first ever female formula 2 champion with her win in 2019. her career lasted just 30 races and she hasn't been seen in the paddock or around any drivers since the crash. there have been reports that she has been approached about a mentor role but considering how fast her management rejected and shut down sky sports about a commentary role, this is also unlikely. what would you like to see from her if she ever comes out of hiding?

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user1: i mourn for her everyday

user2: the way she paved the way for so many but can't stand to be in the paddock to see what she did for the sport

user3: i really don't blame her

user4: doriane is the mercedes reserve and abbi is alpine's! her work is there even if she isn't and i know i'll always be grateful for that

user5: she's so overrated, if she didn't crash she still would've been out of formula 1 by now

user6: me when i'm the most wrong ever

user7: i can't believe there are still men to this day that think she wasn't great? literal world champions like max, lewis, fernando, seb and jenson have all said that she could've won a championship

user8: i mean no shade to lando but i think y/n would've made it 100x harder for max this season in that mclaren

user9: the way jenson tried to say that in the nicest way possible in las vegas lol

user10: and max agreed with him LOL

user11: the way it wasn't even proper lando shade or oscar shade like twitter painted it to be but like max just praising his bestie

user12: he does not play about her as he should

user13: i mean he's the only one we know y/n still actually talks to

user14: i can't wait for the tell-all biography that exposes half the grid because like how much have you must have fucked up for her to never speak to you again

user15: when twitter likes were public she was caught liking a bunch of tweets bout mick when he got his first points so like she doesn't even have hard feelings to the guy who put her in the barrier sooo

user16: it was proven it was break failure???? mick did nothing wrong that's why she still likes things praising him

user17: that crash really robbed us of the best ever f1 relationship with y/n and lando

user18: you know that's part of the reason that she doesn't speak to lando right?

user19: because she wished it was him not her?

user20: NO! because she hated that whole 'ship'

user21: and lando leaned into it way too much

user22: it made me a bit uncomfortable and i'm not even y/n

user23: AND she said on the beyond the grid podcast that she thought those rumours were really reductive and relegated her to just a love interest of her teammate rather than a race winner

user24: kimi antonelli please bring her back to us

user25: praying she'll listen to the literal child

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texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and max verstappen (italics)

did u give them my fucking address

my lawyer says to always deny everything?

i also actually have no idea what you are talking about…

i just got home and there’s a fucking letter from KIMI ANTONELLI on my kitchen counter

it’s creepy and a mad invasion of privacy

i did NOT give them your address?

i gave them sara’s contact details so they wouldn’t be able to directly get to you and i honestly thought she would be too scared to ask you

she showed me all the clips of him praising me.

it didn’t work.

it’s been three years y/n…

and it still hasn’t been long enough.

all i’m saying is read the letter, as creepy as it might be, he is just an 18 year old entering the lion’s den you could at least reply to him even if you don’t take up the offer

although i read they were going to pay you £10 million a year??? was that real?

unfortunately it is very real.

i didn’t think i was still worth that much

you are worth that and more, just give him a chance. we’ve both met him, he’s a sweet kid.

for now.

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it was cold in her apartment, y/n hadn’t shut the window from when she opened them that morning. in fact she hadn’t moved from the kitchen since she set eyes on the letter. it was bold she’d give him that.

the letter was crumpled as if it had gone through hell to get to her (it probably had) and the handwriting was a serious reminder of just how young kimi is. y/n had wondered if her maternal instincts would ever kick in like all the older women in her life insisted it would. sure she had felt intense feelings of love for her childhood cats and had cared her formula one cars (regina and heather, they were named after mean girls, because that is who they had to be on track) like they were children. but that true maternal feeling had never come to her, until now.

all y/n could think about was kimi. how young he was, how much he was set to lose. not everyone was her, the worst thing wasn’t going to happen to everyone - it just always seemed to happen to her.

her loud phone alarm jolted her out of her daydream, reminding her to take her painkillers. as she poured herself a glass of water, y/n slammed down the glass and ripped open the letter.

dear miss y/n y/ln my name is andrea kimi antonelli and i am going to be driving for mercedes amg f1 team in 2025. we met very briefly after i won all three races at mugello and lifted the italian f4 championship trophy. i know you were there on mclaren PR but for me it changed my life. you have always been my biggest inspiration alongside michael schumacher (i am italian, you must understand). it was always my dream to race alongside you and maybe even be teammates, i’d even betray toto and leave mercedes to make that happen (please don’t tell him i told you that). i know that can never happen now, but it could happen in another way? i know like me you grew up seeing niki lauda supporting and mentoring the mercedes drivers and i was wondering if you would be my mentor - who cares about george anyway. i know you’ve never come back to the paddock and are unlikely to do so for little old me. but if you could just think about it that would be great, if you don’t ask, you’ll never get! i hope this letter wasn’t horribly offensive, i mean it when i say you’re my favourite!!! love, kimi (p.s. i was at monza 2021, so you could even consider me a good luck charm) (p.p.s you won monza 2021 completely on merit but i was there) (p.p.p.s please don’t think i’m an idiot) (p.p.p.p.s i also loved interlagos 2020 that’s a super underrated drive)

with tears in her eyes, y/n placed the letter back on the counter, grabbed the glass of water and made her way to her bedroom. painkillers taken with a wince, she still hadn’t gotten used to the size of the pills even three years into taking them, y/n shuffled under the duvet.

the offer was there and it seemed sincere. her accountant would tell her that the money was worth the mental turmoil, even if she just did it for one season and returned to her little cave in west london.

there was no doubt she felt something for kimi - a kinship, a frienship or a maternal yearning - but was it worth ripping off all the bandages and opening herself back up to all the scrutiny again?

she would sleep on it.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 10,567,388 others

yourusername: much to think about these days. like how the fuck this app works now?

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user1: first post in three years and it’s THIS?

user2: i am not complaining

user3: i am savouring every little piece in case she goes missing for another three years

mclarenf1: the queen has returned

user4: no thanks to you

user5: how about we keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth

user6: socials admin i know it is not you specifically but i really don’t know how you can post up here like you’re completely absolved of your involvement in this. your car had break failure that broke her fucking back - it is a miracle she is even still walking! and you still don’t accept any responsibility for it

user7: i love y/n but like how is it mclaren’s fault? break failure happens all the time?

user8: well it’s in one part the fact that they were using her as a test dummy because it was a new faulty part that mclaren was experimenting with that was on her car and NOT lando’s and the fact that to this day when they feel like it they’ll heap guilt onto mick schumacher

user9: without being disrespectful there were two formula one careers that were ended that day because mclaren have kept to the narrative that it was mick that put her into the barriers eventhough siedel admitted when he left mclaren that it was a faulty break part that caused it.

user10: clock it

user11: yes clock it but maybe on a different post because it’s y/n’s return to the internet and all yall can talk about is the most traumatic event in her life?

kimiantonelli: i also love clairo

user12: what is bro doing?

user13: be quiet he’s our best hope of y/n coming back to the paddock let him cook

user14: name three songs local

kimiantonelli: bags (live), alewife and blouse

user15: this motherfucker might just do it

maxverstappen1: i miss brando :/

yourusername: you know my address

yourusername: use it since you like to give it out so much

maxverstappen1: I DID NOT GIVE THEM YOUR ADDRESS

user16: y/lnstappen friendship is BACK

user17: it was never gone?

user18: but now we get to see it :P

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when she woke the next morning, y/n knew she had to read the letter again before jumping into anything. in her sleep she was plagued with memories of the past, but not the usual ones that haunted her in the dark. there were no flames, no hospitals, no career-ending injuries. no, this time she was transported back to 2020 and her first few races of her formula one career.

march 2020.

the paddock was much bigger in formula one than it had been in formula two with hundreds more people running around, barging through crowds, hitting y/n on the way through and not even stopping to apologise. she had thought briefly that she would be making more noise as the first female racer to take part in a race since forever - y/n even thought that she’d made a bit of a splash during preseason testing, nestled between her teammate lando and alex in the red bull in fifth.

but she was invisible. even with the garish orange path to follow to the mclaren garage, y/n struggled to get through the crowds of people brandishing their paddock passes. her trainer had gone ahead to set up her driver room which left y/n to push through and arrive to briefing ten minutes late.

“i’m so sorry, i got lost and by the time i was going in the right direction the paddock had filled up?”

y/n stammered, not quite able to make eye contact with zak brown. the american wasn’t tall in comparison to the general public but he towered over y/n and the disapproving stare didn’t do much to help.

“just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

zak snipped, waving his hand in y/n’s direction, telling her to take a seat. y/n rushed to the nearest empty seat and looked for her teammate in the room. lando was sat just three seats to her right on a small table. y/n tried to make eye contact with lando but he avoided her gaze like it was burning him, so much for the ‘big brother’ act he had put on at the car launch.

the engineers stood in front of the screen and started their long-winded presentation about the prospects for the season ahead. y/n pulled her note book out and frantically started taking notes, she didn’t know if that was normal for formula one drivers, but knowing as much as possible couldn’t hurt.

y/n copied down the warnings about possible tyre wear in turn three when she heard some soft sniggers, like someone was trying to stifle their laughter. this drew y/n out of her focus on the presentation, looking around the meeting room to locate the perpetrator.

lando caught her eye immediately. he had a light blush across his face and his mouth was covered by his hand. he looked guilty, guiltier than the rest of the room who were listening intently to the engineers. y/n raised her eyebrow in question.

“i’m sorry are we distracting you two?”

zak interrupted the presentation, turning to look at y/n and lando.

“no, sorry sir,” y/n replied turning her chair back to face the screen. “lando?” zak pressed.

“i’m sorry zak but y/n was distracting me with her note-taking,” lando forced out between his boyish giggles. “i’ve never taken notes, i didn’t realise you would be sucking up to the engineers this early on?”

“i’ve always taken notes? is it a problem? i’m sorry if i was distracting you lando.”

“yeah we’ll see how much those notes help you on track, rookie.”

lando spat over the table. it was uncharacteristically mean for the lando she had seen in the mclaren social content and the lando she spoke with at the car launch. y/n felt tears prickle in her eyes but she swallowed them down, she couldn’t cry yet - or at least not in view of all the most important people on the team.

“right. we’ll get back to business then.”

the rest of the meeting went by in a blur for y/n, but despite the outburst from lando, she continued to take her notes, she would be damned if some comments from lando would fuck up her entire race weekend routine. y/n took her time when zak dismissed them from the meeting, not wanting to look unprofessional.

moving towards the door, y/n’s shoulder hit someone else’s. she looked up to make eye contact with lando yet again.

“you better not make a habit of making contact with me, rookie,” lando said, a slight smirk but a harsh look in his eyes.

“are you like okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” lando replied pushing past through the door.

“i don’t know, you’re just a little frosty this morning? did i do something?”

“why would i be thinking about you, seriously? this is my team, know your place and we’ll get on just fine”.

with that lando was gone and y/n was left puzzled. i guess PR really does work wonders, y/n thought before making her own way to her drivers room.

her trainer, luca, wasn’t there when she managed to locate the room but all of her gear was already neatly put away like they had discussed. y/n cracked open an electrolyte drink and opened her notebook to study the meeting points.

there was a loud knock at the door and before y/n could even utter a “come in”, the mystery visitor barged into the room. daniel ricciardo announced his arrival with a packet of tim tams thrown at y/n and a quick “howdy” before he started rifling through her stuff and studying her helmet.

“ah, another cool dude who has a cuddly guy on their helmet,” daniel said, picking up her helmet, pointing at the cartoon version of her childhood cat.

“oh that’s schumi, when we travelled for karting we always brought him up until he died of old age, but i still want him with me whenever i race.” y/n said, nervous that the heartfelt explanation would be deemed uncool by one of the coolest racers she had ever seen.

“oh that’s surprisingly cute, i bet schumi was a big hit in the paddock back in the day.”

“he sure was, he’s how i charmed max into not hating me after i took him out once,” y/n chuckled thinking back to the race where max stormed up to her with angry tears in his eyes until y/n practically threw schumi at him. in just five seconds, max had calmed down and schumi was happily purring in the young dutchman’s lap.

“that sounds like max. but speaking of the other young whippersnappers in the paddock, how is our lando treating you? i bet zak and that can’t keep up with you two…” daniel asked, slumping to the floor, taking one of her drinks from the mini fridge.

“oh. i am getting used to him, we’ll put it that way?”

“he’s not being rude is he?”

“no! well. he insists on calling me rookie and keeps making comments about me crashing into him and made fun of me taking notes in briefing but i’m sure that such the british banter.”

“you’re british?”

“well. um. yeah, you got me there.”

daniel grabbed her hands, forcing y/n to look him in the eyes rather than her very interesting shoes.

“i know lando is like some media darling, but so are you. don’t let him push you around, he may have been in this team a while but you’re just as good as him if not better. you’re here to prove yourself, not to play second fiddle, okay?”

it was the first time someone had actually tried to talk to her properly since getting to the paddock. again, tears climbed to her eyes, but this time she let one creep out. daniel wiped it away.

“we made the mistake of isolating max when he was young and new, we won’t make the same mistake - we can’t have two of you running rampant around here,” y/n let out a wet laugh which daniel returned, “just come to renault if you need anything from me. max will be there for you, you know, and seb, kimi, fernando and all the old men will listen to you. don’t rot in your drivers room or hotel suite and think you’re not wanted here.”

y/n nodded, feeling some butterflies in her stomach. she was actually here - a formula one driver. a seven-time race winner wants her here, world champions want her here. a private-school fuckboy wasn’t going to ruin her first ever race weeekend.

“thank you daniel.”

“i have to dash, but i’m serious, we’re here for you. and i would be honoured to kick that little shit’s ass for you, okay?”

the australian left in just as loud fashion as he came, but in the remaining silence, y/n finally felt some peace. this was her chance, and she wasn’t going to mess it up.

present.

y/n couldn’t let that happen to kimi. the young italian was just so unbelievably earnest in his letter that y/n couldn’t bear the thought of his kindness being taken advantage of. george russell had never been outwardly callous but with his attack on max late last season and his complete radio silence with y/n since her crash made her suspicious.

as she prepared to ask max for kimi’s number, sara (who did actually still have a job) sent her a link.

sara: zak brown believes mclaren has the strongest pairing on the grid with no more childish recklessness like in the early 2020s

sara: do you want us to put out a statement or ignore as usual?

y/n clicked on the link, even though she knew it would just annoy her to the point that her phone might become closely acquainted with the thames.

as the formula one world gears up for the 2025 season, zak brown has already stated his confidence for mclaren this season. the papaya team will be coming into the 2025 season as reigning constructors champions and lando norris and oscar piastri will be aiming to add the world drivers championship to that as well.

when zak brown sat down with us earlier this week, the mclaren ceo did not beat around the bush, stating that mclaren have the strongest pairing on the grid. with red bull promoting liam lawson in a test and, mercedes putting unproven kimi antonelli next to george russell and ferrari gambling with charles leclerc and lewis hamilton, brown might just be right.

in their journey to constructors champions, brown recognised that as a team they had straightened out all of their ‘growing pains’. this is exemplified in oscar piastri completing all laps in the 2024 season.

like they usually do, y/n y/ln’s particularly rabid twitter fans will probably detect some ‘shade’ towards the former driver. brown did touch on the prior mclaren drivers during his reign as ceo, saying that the team had some childish recklessness, but now they have a team that all know their place.

y/n y/ln hasn’t spoken about anything formula one related since her retirement, even forgoing the opportunity to congratulate the team that took the chance on her for winning the championship - something brown did not mince his words on off camera. brown lamented about y/ln’s silence, labelling her a brat and ungrateful for not still thanking him for allowing a woman to compete in formula one.

will mclaren make it back-to-back constructors championships? and will they sweep both championships this season?

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she needed that loud-mouthed american’s head on a silver platter. the letter had almost sucked her back into the world of formula one, only for the man who discarded her like a broken toy when his car had malfunctioned and smashed her and her career into a concrete wall to call her an ungrateful brat.

fuck him. fuck mclaren. and fuck that dumbass reporter for giving him the time of day.

y/n didn’t throw her phone from her balcony but pulled up her texts with max.

texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and max verstappen (italic)

have you read this absolute hogwash

zak brown believes mclaren has the strongest pairing on the grid with no more childish recklessness like in the early 2020s

i 100% get why you wanted to put him in a wall last season

you watched last season?

shut up not the time

did you text me just to call your old tyrannical boss a fraud?

i was going to ask for kimi’s number but now i’m back at square one

noooooooo

i want to be there for him, the way no one was for us.

but this is the bs they write about me when i haven’t been seen or heard from in three years, imagine the shite they come up with when i’m the paddock every weekend

WHEN?

no no no

i’ll give you kimi’s number

contact: kimi antonelli (mercedes)

you decide what you want to do

as much as i would kill to have you around the paddock again… even in the vicinity of george

i want you to do what you are comfortable with

thanks max

i’m not giving you a yes but i’m definitely thinking about it

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fin.

note: omg that's part one??????? i had this idea and have been planning and adding to it for a couple days. no spoilers but there will be multiple love interests, backstabbing and all that lovely stuff - i just love the drama !!! (yes i will finish guilty as sin at some point as well). i hope you enjoy the prose as well - first time writing that way on here lol ?! let me know if you liked it, who you'd like to see her with and what you'd like to see happen!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #other side of the moon #astonmartinii

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jellofish-plant · 2 months ago

Text

Dinner for Two

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Genre: Slice of Life, Romance, Domestic Fluff Setting: Gotham apartment, cozy weeknight at home

[Masterlist]

The soft clinking of utensils and the hum of a simmering pot were the only sounds filling the kitchen, save for the occasional gust of wind rattling the windowpanes. You stirred the pasta sauce with practiced ease, your oversized hoodie Jason’s, of course sleeves rolled up as the scent of garlic and basil filled the air.

Behind you, Jason shuffled in quietly, socked feet barely making a sound on the hardwood. He paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, watching you with a rare softness in his eyes. The kind of look he reserved only for quiet nights like this when there were no patrols, no bullets flying, just the two of you and the warmth of a shared home.

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna help?” you teased, not turning around.

He chuckled, the low rumble of it curling around your spine. “Can’t a guy admire his ridiculously attractive partner cooking him dinner?”

You shot him a side glance. “You mean your partner cooking because you burnt the rice last week?”

Jason stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “One time. One tragic rice incident and suddenly I’m banned from the kitchen.”

“You set off the smoke alarm,” you reminded him with a grin, nudging him with your elbow.

He kissed your cheek. “Yeah, yeah. But hey, I made up for it with that ridiculous bouquet I got you.”

“You mean the one you grabbed from the corner bodega at 2 a.m.?”

“Still counts.”

You turned in his arms, spoon still in hand, sauce dripping onto the counter unnoticed as you leaned up to kiss him softly. “It totally counts,” you murmured against his lips.

Later, the two of you sat cross-legged on the couch, plates balanced on your laps, a dumb action movie playing in the background. Jason insisted on cheesy commentary through every scene, and you laughed so hard you nearly choked on your garlic bread.

The night faded slow, with dishes left in the sink and the couch eventually turning into a makeshift bed as you both dozed off under a throw blanket, Jason’s arm slung around your waist, your hand resting over his heart.

It wasn’t extravagant. It wasn’t perfect.

But it was home. And it was yours.

Tag list:

@dreamzaremyrealityy

@not-herexo

@a-brilliante-mariposa

@fandomtrashsblog

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loricciardo · 4 days ago

Text

CHAPTER THREE | THE MAN

tags. original female character, christian horner, misogyny (dismissiveness and demeaning comments) from max and the press, hostile and condescending language (e.g. name-calling, undermining), press harassment, public humiliation. reminder i don’t believe max would say these things, but for the sake of the story, he does.

a/n. this chapter is honestly.. kind of messy. i’m sorry!!! i want to really establish max’s.. dislike for natalie before we have actually get into the ‘23 season. also i promise max will show up again soon.

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“Hello and welcome back to the 2022 Dutch Grand Prix!” Crofty’s voice rang out bright and loud over the roar of the crowd, his energetic voice buzzing through every speaker across the track. “We’re here in Zandvoort, where the big story this weekend isn’t just the sea of orange or Max Verstappen’s pole position at his home race. It’s the fact that Red Bull is down one main driver! Sergio Perez is not racing today after announcing via Instagram on Thursday that his doctor confirmed a sinus infection.”

“In his place? None other than Natalie Schumacher. Yes, you heard that right, folks. Another Schumacher on the grid this weekend. And this is the younger sister of Haas driver Mick Schumacher. She is the Red Bull reserve who shocked everyone yesterday when she qualified fifth after less than twenty four hours in the car.”

There was a brief scuffle of shuffling papers, a slightly a muffled laugh. “Both Schumacher siblings made it into Q3 yesterday, with Mick starting from eighth, which means we just might get a proper wheel to wheel showdown between the siblings. I mean, can you imagine it? We’ll go down to Ted Kravitz who’s down by the garages to see what’s happening trackside on this wild, very Dutch morning. Ted?”

“Yes, Crofty, thank you!” Ted’s voice came through under the low hum of engines and Dutch house music rattling the fences. “The atmosphere here in Zandvoort can only be described as magical. I’ve been walking the paddock all morning, trying to catch a glimpse of Natalie Schumacher. Though it seems Red Bull is keeping her well hidden until the national anthem.”

He paused, shifting on his feet, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Oh! Hold on! There’s Christian Horner just stepping out of the garage. Let’s see if I can grab him. Christian! A quick word?”

“Morning, Ted,” Horner smiled tightly. He was clearly trying not to grimace while his sunglasses were perched just a little too perfectly on his nose. “Good to see you.”

“You too. Quick question, any thoughts on Natalie’s qualifying yesterday? And what’s the target for today?”

“Well, we’ve got Max on pole, so of course that’s where our priorities are,” Horner replied, measured but evidently still a little bit surprised. “But yes, Natalie made quite the impression. She was quick, composed, and mature beyond her experience in the car. We’ll be focusing on keeping her in the points, letting her settle in, and of course maximizing the team result. She’s done half her job. Now we just have to let her finish it.”

“Thanks, Christian. Best of luck.”

Ted’s voice returned to the feed, bright faced again. “Well, Crofty, you heard it. Even Christian Horner wasn’t expecting that sort of debut in qualifying. And from the looks of it, Red Bull may have more than just a reserve driver on their hands.”

Back in the commentary box, Crofty picked up again. “Indeed, Ted. Let’s remember that Natalie Schumacher’s junior formula record is nothing to brush off at. She has a very aggressive style, very reminiscent of her father’s early days. And with the machinery she’s got in her power today, we may be in for a real show.”

Martin Brundle’s voice came in next, smoother, lower. “I’ve watched her closely coming through F2 and karting even before that. You always had that sense she wasn’t just piggybacking off her father, but she earned her place. It’s the way she races. Totally elbows out and fearless.”

Crofty chuckled. “And if there’s one track where elbows out can work, it’s here in Zandvoort.“

“It’s lights out and away we go!” Crofty’s voice exploded over the broadcast, laced with that same brand of chaos that always arrived in the first three seconds of a Grand Prix. “Max Verstappen gets away brilliantly as does his teammate for the day, Schumacher! She’s managed to seal off Russell behind and is hanging onto the gearbox of Lewis Hamilton as they go into Turn 1. Can she get him..? SHE DOES! Late braking executed beautifully and now Verstappen leads from Leclerc, Sainz, and Schumacher. Wow! It feels wonderful to say that name again!”

“We’re just hitting lap six of seventy two now,” Crofty continued, the sound of downshifting and screaming engines bleeding through the broadcast, “and already, a DRS train has begun forming behind Schumacher. Sorry, I should clarify, Mick Schumacher, in P10, is the beginning of that train. His sister is still up in P4, and I can confidently say she’s holding her own as the Dutch crowd roars for their championship leader.”

The camera panned briefly to Max in the lead, but then snapped right back to the Ferrari-Red Bull sandwich forming behind. Natalie was there, pushing, defending, adjusting her lines with a veteran’s touch.

“Carlos Sainz’s Ferrari is only seven seconds up the road, while Leclerc continues trying to close that gap to Verstappen. But right now, the young Schumacher is playing the long game.”

“Alright, lap eighteen, and the Red Bull pit crew is out in formation now. And… yes, they’re waiting for Schumacher! Wow!” Crofty practically shouted. “They must be pulling her in to try the undercut on Ferrari. What do you think, Karun?”

Karun Chandhok chimed in, adjusting his microphone. “Yeah, Crofty, for as much as Christian Horner said he didn’t think Schumacher was going to qualify that high, they seem to be putting an awful lot of thought into her strategy today. You love to see it. She’s been on the Mediums since lights out, so I imagine they’re trying to get their one of two pitstops in. Let’s see how clean this pit stop is.”

“2.3 seconds and she’s away! Mediums, interesting choice… and now, in comes Verstappen!”

The Dutch crowd responded with another wave of noise.

“He’s going on the Mediums as well! And comes out just behind Hamilton and Russell in third.”

“Karun, what do you make of this? Both Red Bulls pit within a lap of each other, and both are now on matching tyre strategies. The Mercedes currently lead from the two Red Bulls and the two Ferraris.”

Karun hummed, thoughtful. “I think Red Bull’s playing both sides of the chessboard. They’ve got Max, obviously, to protect the win, but they’re not exactly using Natalie as a placeholder. If they were, they’d have kept her out longer or stacked the stops. But they’re running her on her own merit.”

On screen, Natalie Schumacher tucked back into the fray in P5, slotting in behind Sainz with barely a flicker of tire smoke. The timing graphic lit up with purple sectors.

“Yeah, Crofty, Natalie Schumacher’s radio has been… well, quiet,” Ted’s voice crackled through the broadcast. “Not a word since lap 32, and even then, it was only a short ‘Understood.’ Meanwhile, Verstappen, who’s currently running P2, has made his frustrations about the Mediums very clear. He’s asked twice now to extend the stint and go aggressive with softs to close.”

In the commentary box, Crofty picked it up with a spark. “And that’s thrown a wrench in the works, hasn’t it? Because Ferrari’s scrambling to get Charles Leclerc back in this conversation, Mercedes are still lurking with Hamilton and Russell, and now, get this, Natalie Schumacher is suddenly… in it. Really in it. A podium? Without a doubt. But a win? Don’t count her out just yet.”

“Lap 47,” Martin Brundle chimed in, steady as ever. “And the Red Bull pit crew is out again. Who’s it for? Wait it’s for Schumacher! Verstappen stays out! Horner’s rolling the dice on strategy and bringing the reserve in first. They’re putting her on the softs.“

Crofty’s voice jumped in. “Russell’s just rounding the final corner, he’s coming fast, Schumacher’s out of the pit lane now. It’s close! And George Russell just sneaks ahead! But Schumacher’s right there! She’s within DRS already, Ted!”

“Can she get him into Turn 11?” Brundle asked. “Russell’s defending but oh! Wait, there it is! That’s the move! A clean switchback through Turn 12. The classic Schumacher cutback! She baited him, Crofty! She baited the poor lad!”

“She’s done it!” Crofty nearly shouted. “Natalie Schumacher reclaims second place, and with DRS she’s gone! Pulling a full half-second before they even hit the next straight!”

“Crofty…” Karun Chandhok’s voice dropped slightly.

“Yes, Karun?”

“I was nervous to say this before, but.. after that move? It feels like I’m watching Michael back on the track. That wasn’t just brave. That was calculated. Smart. Ice cold under pressure. She baited Russell like a veteran and made it look flawless.”

“And now Red Bull is reacting, Max Verstappen is coming in!” Crofty confirmed. “Which means, lap 50, ladies and gentlemen, we have a Schumacher leading a Grand Prix again. Natalie Schumacher leads the Dutch Grand Prix! I repeat, we have a Schumacher in the lead at Zandvoort! Verstappen rejoins fifteen seconds behind her!”

“Let’s go down to Ted. Ted, how’s the pit wall reacting?”

“I.. Crofty, it’s something,” Ted gasped breathlessly. “I was near the Red Bull garage when she made the move on Russell. I saw mouths open. I saw Christian Horner, throw his hands up and shout ‘That’s our girl!’ The entire pit wall stood. You don’t see that often. They’re watching her with the same stunned awe we are.”

“But still no radio chatter?” Brundle asked.

“Nope,” Ted replied. “She’s laser focused. It’s eerie. But undoubtedly impressive.”

Back in the booth, Crofty took over again. “With twelve laps to go, Schumacher still holds an eight-second lead. Verstappen’s pushing, but she’s lapping nearly a tenth quicker. She looks planted in that Red Bull. Could this really be it? Could she win on her debut?”

But suddenly, it came crashing down.

“OH NO! OH NO! SCHUMACHER’S REAR LEFT IS GONE! SCHUMACHER HAS A PUNCTURE!”

The screen jumped to Natalie’s car, still flying, suddenly jolted sideways through Turn 7. Thick clouds of smoke and a blur of rubber flailing itself apart. Carbon clattered into gravel as she yanked the car to safety, steering into the runoff with an eerie steadiness that only made it worse.

“Where did that come from?” Brundle gasped. “No contact! Nothing on track! No warning!”

“She’s out!” Crofty shouted. “Natalie Schumacher’s race has just gone up in smoke! She’s out of the Dutch Grand Prix! Her first race, her first possible win, gone just like that. What a heartbreaking end to a phenomenal drive.”

The camera cut to Natalie, climbing from the cockpit, her helmet still on but her posture defeated. She stood by the car, staring at the blown rear tyre, shaking her head. Wishing she could will it back together.

The grandstands that were quiet for nearly half an hour erupted. Orange flares ignited like wildfire, horns blaring, the roar of the crowd crashing over the circuit in waves. Natalie watched, lips pressed tight behind her helmet, as Verstappen flew past her crippled Red Bull and back into the lead.

She scoffed. It was short, bitter, barely audible over the noise, but it was all she had left.

Ted Kravitz was the first to find his voice again. “She’s… she’s walking away now. She hasn’t taken the helmet off yet. Head down. And Crofty, Christian’s on the pit wall. He looks gutted. Everyone does. That was their win to lose. And they lost it to something no one at Red Bull saw coming.”

Crofty’s voice was softer now. “Max Verstappen wins his home Grand Prix again! The Dutch fans rise to their feet. Again, the orange smoke is released and although I am not a huge fan, it certainly makes for fantastic pictures. But all I can think about and l'm sure many viewers are feeling the same, what would have happened if Schumacher's tyre hadn't blown? Could she have been standing on the top in her debut? But I am confident that this is not the end of her sitting in the cockpit of a Formula 1 car. And let me be the first to say, I am thrilled to see what her future holds.”

The flashes started before the SUV door even shuts.

Christian Horner squints against them, forcing a smile as his polished shoes hit the concrete outside Red Bull HQ. He waves, polite and with a tight smile, but his stomach has already begun to coil. He learned to trust this kind of tension. It wasn’t nerves, it was somewhere deeper.

They all were waiting for today.

The questions first had started the moment Checo Perez had posted that half hearted Instagram graphic about his “unexpected but necessary retirement” after the 2022 season. Everyone knew it wasn’t his idea. And no one believed it was just because of “ongoing health issues.”

Why is Checo retiring?

Is it because of Max?

Who’s taking his seat?

Christian had tried to stay ahead of the storm. They’d pushed out leaks, spun speculation. But the name that kept rising that was as inevitable as gravity, was Natalie Schumacher.

To the press, she was a golden headline: a Schumacher returning to the top team in the sport. But not to Ferrari, of course, the fact that a Schumacher wasn’t headed there stirred plenty of drama behind the scenes. To the engineers, she was a data darling. Swiftly precise, obsessive with her stats, and ruthlessly consistent. And to Christian, she had been his only choice for that seat. Natalie’s Dutch Grand Prix drive was the final nail in the coffin. Nobody had expected it. Not even Max. And especially not the Red Bull team.

He still remembered the tension in Max’s drivers room. He had won the race, yes, but the sharp slam of his helmet against the locker wall had hit harder than the win itself.

Christian should have seen it coming. The signs were there, if only he had paid closer attention. History has a way of repeating itself, sometimes in the most unexpected ways.

Michael Schumacher had been fierce, relentless, and terrifyingly precise on the track. Jos Verstappen, though never quite reaching those heights, had been just as fiercely competitive. And like everyone else, Jos had always resented losing to Michael.

Now, their children were about to share a garage.

And the Red Bull Press Team had done everything they could to keep the two separate. Different days in the simulator. Different gym blocks. Track walks scheduled on opposite ends of the hour. Natalie and Max had barely crossed paths since the Dutch Grand Prix. It was an effort orchestrated not just to get people excited, but for the team’s sanity.

The marketing department leaned into the nostalgia: old footage from karting days, throwback photos of two kids standing near each other, all awkward limbs and stiff smiles while Michael Schumacher and Jos Verstappen talked racing in the background. It was tidy, packaged history. Practically a movie worthy plot. But what it wasn’t? Was the truth.

Heather, head of PR, intercepted him just as he slipped inside.

“Christian, it’s so bad,” she whispered, clipboard tucked under her arm. “Max is refusing to come.”

“What do you mean ‘refusing’?” His voice was sharp.

Heather winced. “His exact words were: ‘If that f-ing Formula 2 driver with no future at this team is coming, then count me out. I don’t want to be photographed anywhere near her.’”

Christian blinked once. “That’s.. it?”

“I honestly was braced for worse,” Heather muttered, already pulling out her phone.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. These fucking kids. “Send Max a message. Tell him to get his ass out here. I’m so done with the prima donna act.”

“But…”

“And can someone please tell me what all that screaming is about!?” Christian snapped, nodding toward the floor below. The crowd had erupted outside again. There was screaming, people yelling questions, you name it.

“I think Natalie just got here,” Heather informed, with the smallest smile. “Twitter is losing it.”

“Well,” Christian sighed, watching the cheers climb in volume, “at least one of my drivers can arrive on time.”

Heather beelined off toward Natalie who was being bombarded outside while Christian pulled out his phone.

Christian: You need to get your ass here now, Max. Quit the childish shit.

Max: Sorry. No can do.

Christian: You can’t miss the car unveiling. We need you here.

Max: As the reigning world champion, I think I can miss this one thing. Plus, you’ve got the new Princess. I’m sure she can handle it.

Christian stared at the screen, the sharp white-blue glow reflected in his eyes.

Christian: Don’t forget who made you world champion. You didn’t do this all on your own.

Max read it and left Christian on seen. Of fucking course!

“Unbelievable,” Christian muttered.

Downstairs, Natalie smoothed a hand down her navy polo, the new team colors strange against her skin. She wore them proudly anyway. The faintest outline of the Red Bull crest sat over her heart, and beside it was her surname. SCHUMACHER embroidered in clean, sharp white.

The cameras around her clicked relentlessly. Shutters opened and closed like rapid fire breathing. She kept her chin lifted, shoulders back.

Natalie had dreamed about this moment since she was a little girl. But in the dream, it felt warmer. Brighter. And less… manufactured.

Her father would’ve said, “Focus on the drive, Nat. Everything else is just noise.”

He would’ve said it in that steady, fatherly tone. One hand on her helmet, the other tugging her suit straight on her small frame. Michael Schumacher hated the entire media circus. He did it when he had to, but he would never chased a headline. When it got too loud, he slipped out the side door. Sometimes, she’d find him on the edge of the tarmac in his sunglasses, puffing on his cigar like the world couldn’t touch him.

Michael never needed the cameras to validate him. And when Natalie was younger, clumsy in her karting suit and falling over her own nerves, he’d said something she never forgot: “Nothing you do on track is ever a waste. Especially the mistakes. Especially the close calls. That’s how you get better.” He smiled when he said it. He always smiled when it came to his daughter.

A voice cut through the white flash of bulbs and the murmurs of her name.

“Natalie! Natalie! Do you think your brother’s results with Haas helped you get this seat?”

“Do you think Red Bull’s using your last name for PR?”

“How are things with Max?”

Natalie didn’t flinch, or she tried not to anyway. She stared forward and gave the tightest smile she could manage without giving anything away. She yearned so much to be back in the car.

Someone in navy nudged her shoulder quickly. Natalie turned to see a shorter, older woman with a headset two sizes too big and a clipboard that had a stack of papers.

“You okay?” the lady asked under her breath, shielding Natalie slightly with her arm as another round of flashes went off behind them.

“I’m just fine,” Natalie replied sarcastically, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Where do you want me?”

“Makeup first,” Heather said, gesturing with a flick of her wrist. “Then media briefing, then photos with the car. Christian wants a few shots in the suit. Helmet under the arm. Power pose, blah blah, all that jazz.”

Natalie nodded. “And Max?”

Natalie already knew, and she didn’t really know why she asked about him. She’d seen the headlines this morning.

SCHUMACHER TO RED BULL: VERSTAPPEN’S NEW NIGHTMARE?

FROM RESERVE TO RIVAL: CAN NATALIE DETHRONE THE LION?

FORMULA 1 ROYALITY TO JOIN THE REIGNING WORLD CHAMPIONS, RED BULL

Natalie read the comments too, even when she promised herself she wouldn’t. Only there because of her name. Daddy’s girl. Placeholder. Pretty, but mid.

They didn’t see the hours logged at the factory, or the simulator sessions run until her eyes were strained and her head ached from the screen. All they had seen was her limp away from the Dutch Grand Prix with her helmet in her hands, shoulders straight even as her heart cracked open.

Funnily enough, Max had seen all of it. And he still didn’t give a flying fuck. What happened to the sweet, shy boy she had met as a kid?

Heather was speaking into her mic again. “Still no sign of him,” she muttered to someone on the other end. “Copy that. Yes. I’ll stall if I can.”

Natalie exhaled through her nose. “Let me guess. He’s ‘not feeling well’.”

“Try ‘doesn’t want to be photographed next to an F2 driver with no future.’” Heather grimaced. “His words. Not mine.”

Natalie laughed humorlessly. “Huh… How welcoming of him.”

Christian Horner adjusted his collar as he stepped under the stage lights. It was the end of Day 3 testing in Bahrain, and despite the dry heat cooling slightly with dusk, sweat beaded at the back of his neck. He should’ve felt good. Max had led the timesheets on Day 1. Then P2 on Day 2.

But today? Today had been none other than Natalie Schumacher’s day.

She had the fastest lap of the entire weekend. The car looked glued to the track. Clean, sleek. Confident in the most sensational way possible. It was that one session of pre-season that sent the press into a frenzy, especially when it came from a “rookie” in Red Bull fireproofs.

Christian blinked against the camera flashes as Natalie stepped onto the platform beside him, smiling graciously for the crowd. She looked gorgeous, and she definitely photographed well. That’s not the only reason why he signed her though, Christian thought. Natalie waved once, and the crowd stirred with that strange hazy mix of curiosity and awe.

The murmurs were already starting. Not just whispers about her time. But about who wasn’t standing next to her.

There was no Max, again. And there hadn’t been all day.

Christian forced a smile as the moderators opened the floor to questions. The first few were easy enough. Choices on tire compounds, details about the new changes to the car, feedback from the car. Natalie answered with the kind of calm professionalism that made PR’s Heather beam proudly behind her clipboard.

But Christian spotted a hand rise and he just knew that shit was about to hit the fan. It was a very particular gossip feeding journalist. He only cared about everything but the actual racing, and nobody really liked the journalist. But his way of making the drivers uncomfortable gave him clicks and popularity, therefore Sky Sports would send him to represent the media team.

“This one is for Natalie,” the reporter said smoothly. “You and Max Verstappen. Childhood friends, as the press are to be believed from Red Bull. If that’s true, how has it been working with him again?”

Natalie shifted slightly in her seat. The smile stayed, but it grew more rigid at the corners. Where the hell did they get childhood friends? They had talked maybe once or twice. The team was really pulling anything out their ass, good Lord! Why couldn’t she had been signed to any other team?

“You always dream of working with drivers you grew up with,” she gave a non-answer, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve had great teammates in the past, and Max is… very fast. I think there’s a lot to learn from being in the same team as such a talent.”

That kind of answer Natalie knew made Heather proud, but it seemed like the reporter wasn’t done.

“Right,” he vigorously nodded, not satisfied. “But I have to ask… Did you expect to be three tenths faster than any of Max’s times this weekend?”

Christian couldn’t help it as he face palmed beside her. Natalie only tilted her head slightly to the right. “Eh.. no, I didn’t necessarily expect it,” she mused, “but I think it speaks to the prep I’ve done over the last year. I’ve worked hard. That’s all I can control.”

“Well, I spoke with Max this morning actually. He called your pace a fluke. Something about… beginner’s luck. Oh, and he’s coined a new nickname for you; ‘Princess.’ Any comment on that?”

Natalie blinked. Then smiled, very, very slowly. It was a tight, sharp, turn of her lips with absolutely no warmth behind it.

“Is there a question in that sentence?” Her eyebrow arched just slightly.

The journalist smirked. “Just curious where the nickname came from. Doesn’t seem like you’re one for ball gowns and crowns.”

Natalie raised a hand, combing it through the blonde waves that fell past her shoulders. “Mmm.. I don’t know,” she shrugged lightly. “We all know Max likes to say stupid things when he’s nervous. Maybe ask him when he finally is manly enough to show up.”

Then a sharp chorus of oohs broke out across the room. Some were shocked, some impressed, a few snorting into their press notepads. Then laughter followed, scattered and awkward, rippling like a dropped pebble in a still pond. Immediately phones shot up to capture the moment. Cameras clicked harder. A reporter near the front mouthed damn under their breath.

Christian stood quickly and cleared his throat. “Okay…! That’s all the time we have. Thanks for coming.”

Natalie rose before the man could even gesture. Her race boots hit the vinyl flooring like punctuation as she strode off the stage.

But backstage she let herself finally go.

Thudunk! Her hand hit the wall with a flat, echoing sound. Natalie didn’t speak at first. Just stood there, frozen in place, her blonde hair clinging to the edges of her bright, flushed cheeks, her back to Christian. Her racing boots were planted like anchors on the hardwood floor.

“That fucking Arschloch,” she hissed. “He’s the one who hides all week, then calls me names like I’m some… grid whore. Not to mention in front of press? I’m not doing this, Christian. I’m not.”

Christian nodded slowly. “I’ll.. talk to him, Natalie.”

“Look, he doesn’t have to like me,” Natalie snapped. “But this? These public jabs? Undermining me after the work I’ve put in? I won’t have it.”

Christian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know, I know. We’ll sort it, I promise.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit if he hates me,” Natalie furrowed her eyebrows and spun to face the older man fully. “He’s feeding the exact fucking people who already think women don’t have a place in motorsport. The ones who wait for me to mess up so they can say ‘told you so.’ And that’s where I draw the line.”

Natalie stepped closer to Christian, chin high, eyes burning. “Imagine some young girl watching him say that bullshit. Seeing him treat me like a joke. Like I’m just some placeholder until you find someone real. That’s what he’s telling her. That she doesn’t belong here either. I won’t let him make me smaller to make himself feel bigger. Not now. Not ever. I’ve been nothing but polite to that man.”

Christian hummed in acknowledgment, watching the fire in her eyes. Natalie looked so much like her father in that moment it knocked the wind out of him.

History knew Michael never played nice with the press. Never smiled if he didn’t mean it. He handled his critics by outrunning them. In that moment Christian realized Natalie would do the same.

“Yes, I know. You.. you did handle yourself well,” he said quietly. “I mean it Natalie.”

Natalie exhaled through her nose, gathering herself. “Well, We’ll see how long I can keep handling it. If Max wants a fight on track, that’s fine. But this petty nonsense has got to stop.”

And with that, she turned and walked out of the press room, the Red Bull logo catching the stage light as it flickered against her back.

Princess or not, Natalie Schumacher wasn’t here to play nice. And Max Verstappen had just made the mistake of underestimating her to the public, and they had one week before the first lights out.

The pair already had a flaming rivalry that would definitely define the 2023 Formula 1 season.

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bengiyo · 7 months ago

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Ben's Big BL Blurb 3: Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Blew It, But I Still Recommend It

I finished Blue Canvas of Youthful Days today, and I don’t like where we left off with this show. Let’s get into that, and then check in on some of the other shows I’m watching.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days Didn’t Give the Audience Catharsis

I don’t begrudge the show going for a happy ending, given how so many other BLs from their home country end with sudden traumatic turns. However, I don’t feel like we got catharsis from the ending at all. I struggle to full articulate my frustration here, but I think I just really wanted an ending akin to Weekend (2011) or Gameboys 2 (2022).

I think these two were in a position where they were unable to be together now, and I think they should have ended on a separation. When Cairo and Gav had to separate at the end of Gameboys, it was the correct choice. They were still building their lives, and Gav wasn’t doing well on his on. Similarly, Blue Canvas established a scenario whereby Qi Lu did not have the power to stop his father from harming Qin Xiao. Likewise, Qin Xiao couldn’t keep the local gang from beating Qi Lu.

I would have preferred they have the boys confront that they were hiding things from each other, and how they both failed to protect each other from the horrors. I am disappointed that we didn’t get a poignant goodbye from them as they accept that they can’t be together right now. I wouldn’t have minded so much a blurb at the end of the show with the pitch for a season 2 that they didn’t get to film (though @thisonelikesaliens commentary makes even what they wrote dour). We didn’t confront the issue with the dad at all, and we didn’t deal with Qin Xiao losing all he’d worked for.

Genuinely, I would have been okay with them getting a tag at the end of the show with them seeing each other on the street again and sharing a meaningful look. However, we never saw them face the music of their double noble idiocy, and that sucks. It especially sucks because we had Let Free The Curse of Taekwondo this year, and so we saw the consequences of this. We could have had these two railing against the world and promising to see each other again. The tag at the end of the reuse of the fantasy sequence feels tacked on and unearned. That kinda sucks more.

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I really liked most of this show, and I think they wrote some phenomenal characters until the finale here. Like @lurkingshan I ended up not pleased with this ending. I am disappointed in the lack of resolution about the withholding, and I think they needed to face the separation and goodbye. However, I really liked the cast, and I respect the team that worked so hard to get this to us.

On to the rest of the show, presented in no particular order…starting with the worst. I’ll put in parentheses what episode number I’m on as of this post.

Haunted Hearts is Boring (5/7)

Magic, mah friend! Your show is boring. I do not know why these boys won’t kiss, and at this point I feel like I don’t care anymore. They’re introducing yet another ghost next week and I just am so disinvested. I try so hard every time to support Oxin Films and Regal Entertainment, but they make it so fucking hard. Holy shit. There’s only so far the boys being cute can carry a thin concept like this.

City of Stars is Better Than I Expected (2/12)

I am catching up on this show. The acting isn’t great, but I’m really enjoying a lot of what’s happening here. I will report back when I finish.

See Your Love is Fun But Kinda Weird (7/13)

The visuals are great in this show, and the leads are filling in the aesthetic gap left behind by Jimmy and Tommy in a way that really works for me. There’s been way too many pratfalls in the last two episodes. We are at 1.5 pratfalls per episode at this point. The side couple is absolutely ridiculous. I’m having fun.

Caged Again is Becoming a Favorite (4/10)

Junior is the best protagonist of the year. I’m obsessed with this penguin boy. I love the way this show uses its supernatural elements to drive its storytelling forward, even if I think the plot got a little silly in episode 4. The friend group dynamics are so fun, and I haven’t enjoyed a group of Thai boys this much since Knock Knock, Boys! (no surprise, two of them are in this show, too).

Your Sky is a Weekly Delight (3/12)

The 2gether rewrite show is great, and I will be reading no commentary to the contrary. These boys are so great, and they are one of the best couples of the year. This show is doing fake dating in a way that’s just so excellent, because it’s real dating! The boys are genuinely trying to get know each other so they can pretend to be a better fake couple. This is so close to being excellent meta commentary about dating in the digital age, and how so much of dating for the current generation is about how others perceive the validity of your relationship. It’s actually so fun to watch a show where the characters are doing all the things you’re supposed to do when you’re trying to build something with someone, but one of them doesn’t fully understand what they’ve gotten into. This show is great, and I love it.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan is so Slick (5/10)

If there’s one thing a Japanese drama is going to get right it’s trauma! This show delivered on Kai’s horrors in a way that was so visceral that I needed to pause and catch a breath. I remain obsessed with the casting of Nagatsuma Reo as Kai, because he’s taller than Suzuki Asahi sometimes. I really love that they didn’t give us the BL height difference trope, and I like that they didn’t style Kai in a way to make him look more feminine. There’s a egalitarian physical balance between Fuma and Kai that I find extremely refreshing, considering the massive class, wealth, and suffering gap between the two characters. It’s no surprise that we’ve had a dearth of gifs of their sex scene, considering it doesn’t play to the kind of asymmetric aesthetics that folks seem enjoy in their pairings.

As always, the Rei and Kai friendship remains one of the best parts of this story, and I like the way this version of Sky talks to this version of Rain about the queer stuff. He feels like he’s being careful with his friend, and not just ghosting him on important conversations about his friend’s sexual awakening (one of my major gripes with the original Thai adaptation).

Our Youth is Taking Over My Brain (4/11)

I have not moved on from the “Infect me” line, and I am still obsessed with the plausible deniability of the “no homo” that Hirukawa relies upon as he continues to pursue Minase. Now that Minase has reached his breaking point, I’m so looking forward to seeing where we go next. We’re due for a major separation, and I’m ready for a Japanese BL to not fuck up a second chance romance attempt this time. Perhaps adapting Korean work could the solution?

Spare Me Your Mercy is a Welcome Return to the Sammon Feeling I Enjoy (1/10)

I just really love when Sammon shows feel like the mystery matters more than the romance, and this feels like it’s in the correct space. I loved the initial setup, and the potential for there to be multiple murderers. I really hope that they start killing younger people in this show, because they said there were only 40 palliative care patients, and we downed three of them in the first episode. I’m so happy to see JJ again, and Tor looks great. I am looking forward to the weekly watch and theorizing with this show. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to the complex meditation on euthanasia, which this story feels like it’s taking seriously.

Love is Like a Poison Finally has Given Us a BL Battle Couple Again (11/12)

We haven’t had a BL battle couple in what feels like forever. I love that this show continues to reward us for believing in Haruto and Shiba. Haruto’s dad is the absolute worst, and I really want him to lose. I love Shiba, and I love that the show continues to give him some of the visual tropes of a legal drama (like the pan up near the end). I’m in love with this show, and it’s going to be one of my favorites of the year, I’m sure.

Fragrance You Inherit Hurts Me Because Everyone is Doing The Right Thing (4/8)

This show is actually so painful sometimes, because no one is doing anything wrong. Everyone is being as emotionally honest as they can be with everyone they speak to about all of the things that are going on. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sakura choosing to let go of her lingering crush on Mone now that they’re both moms and their kids are dating. Besides, we presume that Mone is still married! The conversation with On-chan makes me think that Mone misunderstood the relationship Sakura had with him in college (My man is ace but not aro! We love to see it).

I just really love that everyone is trying to do right by everyone around them, and I think all of the things that remain unspoken in this show have been withheld for completely valid reasons. There are no villains in this story, and that makes it even harder to watch really kind people treat each other politely in every scene. I’m just feeling a quiet scream in me the entire time I watch a good son by a thoughtful gift for his loving mother with the help of his supportive and lovely girlfriend, as he prepares a surprise from the old friend who clearly still cares about her friend and the unrequited/unexpressed feelings between them. This show is incredible. Go watch it right now. Thank you again to @isaksbestpillow.

Conclusion

That’s more shows than I’ve been watching in a while. It’s nice to have some Thai shows back in my rotation that I’m actually enjoying. I really want the Chinese to now fuck up their endings, but it seems like 2024 will not be that year. I’ll try to check in with the end of Love is Like a Poison when the Netflix release schedule completes so folks can binge it then. In the mean time, let me know what you’re enjoying, and what else I should consider picking up.

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ikwon1c · 24 days ago

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Noona pt. 5

noona 6

characters: kwon jiyong x y/n

summary: no secrets stay buried forever—especially not between siblings.

tags: angst, sibling tension, emotional vulnerability, comfort, guilt, protective seunghyun, post-fight fallout

this gtop pic has me on chokehold 🥵 man, i miss them 💔

You hadn’t seen Jiyong in twenty-five days. Not that you were counting. Twenty-five days since the fight. Twenty-five days since the stupid, ugly, desperate argument in your office. Since he stood in front of you, arms crossed, eyes burning—and asked you if it all meant nothing. If he meant nothing.

And you, in your infinite wisdom, said: “This was a mistake.”

You didn’t mean it.

You meant I’m scared. I’m spiraling. I love you, and I don’t know how to love you in a way that doesn’t ruin everything. But you said it like a dagger, and you watched it hit him square in the chest.

Jiyong had never been good at hiding heartbreak. He just turned it into something else. Smoke. Music. Silence.

So you got silence.

And now here you were, three and a half weeks later, sitting in your office at YG with the lights off and a cup of coffee gone cold, pretending the tight ache in your chest was just stress.

You’d been fine. That’s what you told yourself over and over. You buried yourself in project meetings, edited training footage until your eyes blurred, and took more on your plate at YG than any sane person should. There was always something to fix, something to plan. That was the whole point. Distraction as salvation.

But distraction doesn’t help when your heart feels like it’s limping behind you. Not even the endless whiteboards or loud vocal booths could drown out the echo of a fight you never meant to start.

You’d pushed him away. You had to. It was stupid to begin with—falling for someone 8 years younger, someone who’d been part of your life for years but only started looking at you like that more recently. Someone who knew exactly how to tear down every wall you put up and then kiss you like he was doing you a favor.

You ended things but you hadn’t expected it to hurt. Not this much. It’s because you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him… but you still did.

So when you sat at your desk three weeks later, scrolling through a schedule you couldn’t focus on, the ache in your chest wasn’t professional. It was personal. Deep. Stupid.

He hadn’t texted since that night. Neither had you. But you’d seen the signs—the extra cigarette breaks, the half-assed verses, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. You weren’t the only one falling apart quietly.

“You look like shit,” he said by way of greeting. Seunghyun stood by your door, arms crossed, one brow raised.

You didn’t even look up. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re not eating properly,” he added, walking towards you. “You only look like that when you’re living off coffee and grief.”

You laughed softly. “Grief?”

“I know the signs.”

You paused. Then: “I’m just busy.”

Seunghyun snorted. “Bullshit.”

You glared. He glared back, harder.

He sat in front of me and gave me a long look.“You’re never this quiet. What’s going on?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. Just work.”

“Liar,” he said flatly. He stood up, “Come on. You’re eating dinner with me. No arguments.”

“Seunghyun, I’m really not—”

“I already made a reservation. Don’t make me waste good kimchi jjigae over your sad girl era.”

You huffed but didn’t resist. He knew you too well anyway.

⸻

You barely said a word in the car. Seunghyun had the playlist going—some random mix of early BigBang and RnB’s, because nostalgia always worked on you.

But you weren’t biting tonight.

So he filled the silence with light commentary. Your work. His new hair color. The absolute mess in the recording studio thanks to Daesung spilling an entire iced latte on the console.

When you got to the restaurant, he didn’t push right away. He picked a quiet place. One of those overpriced hanwoo restaurants he only went to when he was trying to spoil you or win an argument. You didn’t ask which this was.

The server came by, and you both ordered your usuals. The grill lit up between you with a low hiss, smoke curling upward. You busied yourself with pouring sauces and arranging banchan, like if you looked busy enough, he wouldn’t look at you.

“Noona.” He glanced up. “Didn’t think you’d actually agree to come.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, you dragged me. Remember?”

He grunted. “Exactly. So I figured you won’t make up some excuse and ghost me for another three weeks.”

“Rude.”

He shrugged. “Accurate.”

He ordered your favorite, watched you eat half of it, then leaned forward and said, “So. You gonna tell me why you’ve been walking around like you’re haunted?”

You looked up sharply. “I’m not.”

“You’re literally zoning out mid-conversation, you’ve got dark circles, and don’t think I didn’t notice you skipped the rap showcase last week.”

You avoided his gaze. Seunghyun sighed and sat back, playing with his spoon.

But of course, this was Choi Seunghyun. Your baby brother. Who’d known you since you were fourteen and he was still a kid trying to act tough in your hand-me-down jacket.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“Gee, thanks. You said that already.”

“You do,” he repeated, mouth full of kimchi. “Like you haven’t slept properly in a week.”

You stabbed a piece of radish with unnecessary force. “I’ve been busy.”

“Not that kind of tired.” He chewed. Swallowed. “You look heart-tired.”

You didn’t answer.

“Did something happen?”

Still, nothing.

“Or should I say… someone?”

Your hands stilled.

“You know,” he said after a pause, “Jiyong’s been a wreck too.”

You froze.

“What?”

“He’s been off,” Seunghyun said carefully. “More than usual. Smokes through every break. Snaps at the techs. Keeps rewriting lyrics that don’t need changing. Keeps messing up the same parts. Youngbae asked if he’s getting enough sleep, and you know what he said?”

You looked up, finally.

“He said ‘it doesn’t matter.’” Seunghyun shook his head. “He only talks like that when he’s heartbroken.”

You closed your eyes.

“Noona.”

You swallowed hard.

“I didn’t say anything at first,” he continued. “Thought maybe it was the stress. Comeback nerves or whatever.”

You tried to keep your face blank. “Maybe it is.”

“Maybe.” He paused. “But I’ve seen this before. Back when he got dumped the first time in high school. You remember that? Moping around the dorm like a kicked puppy, smoking until his voice cracked.”

You gave a noncommittal grunt.

“He’s not good at hiding it. And neither are you.”

“I figured something happened when he started sulking and you started staying late. And then when neither of you were at Daesung’s birthday party? Yeah. Pretty obvious.” Seunghyun added.

You exhaled. Long and shaky.

“I didn’t know it was like that,” he said, watching you carefully now. “Didn’t think it could be like that. Not with you.”

“But then I noticed you,” he added. “And I’m not stupid.”

You pushed your bowl away. “Seunghyun…”

He stared at you, quiet for a long beat. “When were you planning to tell me?”

You met his eyes. “I wasn’t.”

There was a pause. Then—he laughed. Just once. A sharp, bitter sound.

“Wow.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Oh, I’m sure it just fell into place,” he said, eyes flashing. “One minute you’re lecturing him about deadlines and the next—what? Making out behind studio B?”

You winced.

“I told him to stay away from you,” Seunghyun muttered.

Your heart stung. “You what?”

“I told him,” he repeated. “Years ago. When we were still rookies. That you were off-limits.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered.

“He’s my friend,” Seunghyun said tightly. “And you’re my sister. You think I want to be stuck between that?!”

“I never asked you to be.”

“No, you just snuck around behind my back and pretended it wasn’t happening.”

You opened your mouth. Shut it.

Seunghyun looked away, jaw clenched. “I’m not even mad that it happened. I’m mad you didn’t tell me.”

Silence.

You looked at him while sighing, “I was scared.”

“Of what? That I’d be pissed?”

You gave him a look.

“…Okay, yeah. Fair.”

He sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Look,” he said after a minute, voice softer now. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy about this. You’re still my older sister and he’s still an idiot.” That drew a weak smile from you.

You stared down at the chopsticks between your hands. Wooden. Splintered slightly at the tips. You hadn’t even noticed.

“You love him,” Seunghyun said simply.

Your eyes welled. You blinked fast. “I—”

“And he loves you. Has for years, probably.” Seunghyun nodded. “Even if he’s a cocky little shit. He lights up like a Christmas tree when you walk into the studio.”

Your throat closed up.

Seunghyun leaned back in his seat. “And yeah. I’m pissed.”

You looked up at him. “I know.”

“I’m still pissed.”

“I know,” you repeated.

“Because you’re my sister,” he said, voice cracking a little, “and I don’t know how to process the fact that the guy I’ve trained with, grown up with, the guy who used to ask me how to get your attention—actually got it.”

Because—hell, Seunghyun, it’s Jiyong. The guy who used to draw dicks on your sketchbook and steal your ice cream.

You laughed weakly. “He asked you that?”

Seunghyun rolled his eyes. “Constantly. He used to say, ‘Hyung, does your noona like guys with good hair or good lyrics?’ Like it mattered.”

You covered your face. “Oh my god.”

“He was obsessed. In a weird, loser way.” He sighed. “Still is.”

“But I get it,” he said. “Sort of. Jiyong’s annoying as hell, but he’s loyal. And when he wants something… he doesn’t give up.”

“No,” you said quietly. “He doesn’t.”

“And you love him.”

Your throat tightened. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” He stared at you like he was trying to see past all the walls.

“You love him,” he said again. “So why are you both suffering like this?”

You didn’t answer. The truth you didn’t want to hear. The one you’d been trying to bury under work and guilt and coffee and blank stares across studio hallways.

You loved him.

You never stopped.

And maybe you broke something between you, but maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t too late.

Seunghyun reached across the table, nudging your knuckles with his.

“I’m probably even more than pissed,” he said. “But I’m your brother before anything else. If you’re hurting… I’ve got you.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“You’re not alone, noona,” he murmured. “Even if you’re stupid as hell sometimes.”

You let out a watery laugh. “Thanks, brat.”

We continued to eat in silence when Seunghyun sighed.

“Noona.”

“What?”

“You’ve always been the one taking care of everyone.” He looked you in the eye now. “You deserved someone who gives a shit back.”

You stared at him.

“And if it has to be someone like him,” he added with a sigh, “then… it better be because he makes you happy. Not because he wore you down.”

You exhaled slowly, guilt and gratitude tangling in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He shrugged again. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m still gonna make fun of you relentlessly when this goes public.”

You rolled your eyes. “Great.”

“But,” he added, more gently now, “I’m always on your side.”

You smiled, and this time it stuck. And for the first time in weeks, the weight didn’t feel quite so heavy.

That night, Seunghyun crashed on your couch after watching a shitty sci-fi movie and eating half a pint of overpriced gelato you’d been saving. He grumbled about your heating system and yelled when he tripped over your slippers in the dark.

But he also said, as you handed him a blanket:

“For what it’s worth, noona… I get it.”

You blinked at him. “Get what?”

He sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the cushions. “Why you chose him.”

You stared.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he added. “I still want to punch him in the face. But…” He trailed off, eyes soft. “He’s always looked at you like you hung the stars.”

Your chest ached.

You sat down beside him, curling up with your knees to your chest. “I think I looked at him the same way. I just pretended I didn’t.”

Seunghyun nodded.

Then: “If he hurts you again, I’ll break both his kneecaps.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

He yawned. “Just don’t make me listen to you two having sex. Thin walls.”

You threw a pillow at his face.

—

Seunghyun barely glanced at you as he adjusted the collar of his blazer. “Let’s go.”

You narrowed your eyes, heels clicking behind him. “I’m still mad at you for blackmailing me into this.”

He snorted. “Blackmail? You owe me.”

“For what?”

“For not telling Jiyong you cry after watching cat videos,” he deadpanned.

You shoved his shoulder. “Not that!”

“Oh, you mean for not telling him I knew you two were sneaking around behind my back like horny teenagers in a rom-com?”

You groaned. “Exactly that.”

He smirked, stepping into the elevator. “Then suck it up and be my charming plus one.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you love me.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Only brother I have, unfortunately.”

—

“Do you have to look like you’re being dragged to your own funeral?”

Seunghyun threw you a sideways glance from the driver’s seat, his long fingers tapping on the wheel to the beat of whatever playlist he had running through the car speakers. You were slumped in the passenger seat, arms crossed, scowl perfectly in place.

“I said I owed you one. Not my soul.”

He smirked. “Same thing.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Because I kept my mouth shut about a certain someone sneaking into your apartment at ungodly hours for two months.”

You looked out the window like the city lights might swallow your guilt. “Can you quit that? That was ages ago.”

“Three weeks,” he said, smug. “And you were practically glowing the morning after. Don’t test me.”

You groaned. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go to a team dinner party with all our friends, including him, pretend nothing ever happened, and not talk about it. That’s totally healthy.”

You glared at him, but he was already pulling into the lot of the restaurant. Private room, of course. Exclusive, expensive, and loud enough that no one would hear you scream into a napkin later.

“I’m just saying,” Seunghyun added as he parked, “this is your mess, noona. Try not to drip it all over my sashimi.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said.

“I’m lucky you hate confrontation,” he replied. “Otherwise Jiyong would’ve been missing his teeth by now.”

You elbowed him hard.

The dinner party was already buzzing when you arrived. Private room. Upscale restaurant. Loud laughter. Warm lights. Half the YG staff was there, including familiar dancers, producers, stylists—people who’d known the boys since pre-debut. You felt the nostalgic tug in your chest. It used to be simpler, back when you were just Seunghyun’s older sister and the unofficial “noona” of the group.

Back when Jiyong didn’t look at you like he could unpeel your skin with a glance.

And back before you gave in to that look.

You stuck close to Seunghyun’s side as greetings flew around. He introduced you casually, proudly—like the loyal little brother he was. You smiled politely, gave hugs, laughed when needed.

The private room was warm with familiar laughter and already thick with soju fumes. Daesung was mid-joke. Youngbae was trying to explain some terrible pun. The table burst into laughter as you and Seunghyun stepped in.

“Noona!” Daesung beamed, waving you over like a child seeing a favorite babysitter. “We’ve missed you!”

“More like missed someone who could keep Seunghyun hyung in check,” Youngbae added.

You smiled, bowing slightly and greeting each of them in turn. And then—your breath caught.

Jiyong.

He was across the room, black designer blazer, black slacks, two rings on his fingers and that damn chain around his neck. He was laughing at something Daesung said, head tilted back, the glow of the lights making him look golden.

But he wasn’t alone.

Her.

Sitting beside him, legs crossed, dress tight, hair perfect, her nails tapping against his glass like they belonged there.

You blinked. Swallowed.

“You okay?” Seunghyun murmured beside you.

“Fine,” you said too fast. “Fine. Totally fine.”

His smirk was immediate.

He knew.

You punched his arm. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I’m thriving.”

I groaned.

This is gonna be a long night.

#kwon jiyong x reader #g dragon x reader #kwon jiyong #g dragon fanfiction #choi seunghyun #seunghyun x reader #bigbang scenario #bigbang #angst #kwon jiyong scenario #g dragon #jiyong scenario #bigbang x reader #kpop

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jaja-salute · 3 months ago

Text

The truth lays at the bottom of the glass (pt.1)

summary: Boo Seungkwan is a flirty little brat in extreme need of attention. That's it.

pairings: boo seungkwan x reader

word count: 3k

tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, suggestive, pouty Kwannie, reader is part of Na PD staff, jealous Kwannie, reader is same age as Dino or a bit younger, Seungkwan is a menace and the biggest flirt, TOUCHY BOO, reader and Dino are very good friends, reader is Jeonghan's second favourite child, sexual themes, MINORS DNI, the piiiiiiiniiiingggggggg aaaaa; tell me if I missed anything!

commentary: this will have a part 2 with some SMUT, soon I hope; this is also my first ever fic! So if there are some mistakes pls bear with me :') thank you for reading!

edit: PART TWO IS ON

_______________________________________________

Working for Na PD was one of the best things that could have ever happened to you. It was exhausting, for sure, and most of the time the amount of work was never ending, but you enjoyed every bit of it. At first the team was very sceptical of hiring a Carat, as they worked with Seventeen a lot of times, but besides being all the time under the unforgiving scrutiny of the agencies, you have proven yourself to be very professional and you have gained a fair amount of trust.

Inevitably, the day when you were shooting content with Seventeen came, and god forbid, it slipped that the new hire was a Carat. As soon as the boys were given this information, they were unable to hold their excitement, to the point that after winning one of the first mini games, they explicitly requested to meet you. And they gave their all in order to win. Long story short, you were surrounded the second you have entered the room.

Two years have passed since that day, and you could proudly say that you have managed to build a wonderful reputation at work, and a solid relationship with your favourite group. The boys were the warmest and kindest souls, and every time you did the shootings inevitably will end in hanging out later, if the schedule let it. With some of them, like the hyung line, you were treated like their little sister, especially with Jeonghan and Joshua, who grew oddly affectionate with you, as for Seungcheol he was, as expected, protective more like an older brother but with more distance. The 96ers were pretty chill, except Soonyoung who after managing to bring down the introvert wall was all over you, honourable mention of Jihoon who more than once saved you from being tackled to the ground by interjecting the pouncing tiger.

As for the maknae line, being the same age as Chan, made you instantly good friends with the latter, and the behaviour towards you was similar (or even softer?) as the one reserved for him. Mingyu was one of your biggest fans (second only to Jeonghan), and it was safe to say that Seokmin flowed right after. As for Minghao and Hansol you were thankful they balanced out the cuteness aggression attacks you received from the older two.

But with Seungkwan was another thing. Kwannie was one of the few more sceptical members, along with Seungcheol, Minghao and Jihoon, when they learned you were a Carat. Very reasonable, as incidents have happened over the years. Yes, you managed to smoother a lot of edges in record time, but the turn the relationship with Seungkwan took was nothing of what you could have expected. There was teasing, of course there was, but as time passed, the more flirtatious he became. Not that he was the only one wanting to mess around, all of them were pretty aware that you were attractive, but Seungkwan was on another level. His teasing nature concealed it pretty good at first, but he started to give himself away too easily lately, and the boys started to notice.

It reached its peak at today's evening, during dinner after finishing shooting another successful season of Nana Tour, the air was still permeated with the trip experience and its lightness, with the addition of alcohol and good Korean food the atmosphere was just right. You left the booth where your fellow coworkers were, after Mingyu came to retrieve you, proudly saying that you deserve to have fun with your favourite people. As soon as you've entered, you were greeted by loud cheering and bickering, as usual the boys were playing one of their games. Jeonghan met your eyes the second your head popped into the room and locking you in a hug, he started rubbing his cheek on yours.

"MY SWEETEST GIRLL IS HEREE *hiccup* where were you?? I missed you so muchh." "Hannie, it has been an hour since you last came to our booth to 'check on me'," you chuckled, "did you get wasted in the meantime?" "He keeps loosing even if he's trying everything to cheat," intervenes Seungcheol, manhandling Jeonghan to release your face but not the hug, as he hissed at him, "would you like to sit down? Jeonghan kept a spot for you the whole night." Finishes Cheol with a smile. "I would love to." Reciprocating the smile you follow the older two to the table, sitting between Jeonghan and of course Joshua, who hugs you too as soon as you sit.

The other boys greet you warmly, Chan coming behind your chair and wrapping you in a tight hug starts to rant about the game being unfair while resting his chin on your shoulders and nuzzling his face in your neck and hair. Him and Jeonghan were the most touchy with you, luckily you were used to physical touch and affection, so it didn't quite bother you. It was surely bothering someone else, who was throwing daggers at Chan from across the table. Seungkwan was graciously tipsy (his words), and he was keeping himself from drinking too much because he was feeling on edge, knowing you were present at the dinner, now even more since you were in front of his eyes. Unlike Seungkwan, Chan was way more than tipsy, and eagerly touchy tonight. Soonyoung, lightweight as always, zeroed his eyes on the two of you laughing together, and opened his unfiltered mouth:

"You look hella good together, like cute but sexy. Are you sure you are not a couple?" You and Chan manage to show him the same horrified face, making Jihoon cackle so hard the man almost choked and fell from his chair, the others stare in disbelief at the statement and share some laughter. "YA you punk! You need my approval before! Who you think you are?! Do you think you are good enough for my Y/Nnnie??", slurs Jeonghan and Joshua follows him, hyping him up. Again, Soonyoung who can't keep his mouth shut, retorts: "No but hyung, take a good look at them. Aren't they hot together?" Jeonghan: "Oh shut up you are too biased on Chan. My Y/Nnnie deserves better." "Oi, I'm not that bad," defends the maknae, "besides, if me and Y/N weren't practically TWINS, I would be the best boyfriend she could ever dream of." "Now wouldn't you Chan." You say glancing up at him. "Hell yea, Y/N have you seen these guns?" says Chan while flexing his arms in front of you, "Come feel these bad boys." and shamelessly puts your hands on his biceps.

"Chan I am very aware of you being buff and sexy, but I also know that you are all bark and no bite, and", you lift yourself from your seat, staring directly at his eyes shifting your gaze, looking at him like you want to eat him, "I also know that as soon as I start to flirt with you like I mean it, you'll melt like ice cream under hot summer sun." You punctuate your last words by stepping into his space, making him step backwards and luckily fall into his seat. Chan flushed red and just looks at you with blown out eyes, bewildered. Having had yourself a few drinks with your colleagues made you tonight a bit more unhinged than usually.

“Woha there Y/N, you got game!” cheers Soonyoung, and you grin mischievously, Chan still trying to recollect himself as the others snicker and cheer after that little show. “You flatter me Soonie, but trust me that I can do better.” You say sending a wink to him who just grins like an idiot and raising his eyebrows in a seductive attempt follows: “And are you willing to show me, baby?” At this point Jihoon's face is contorted into one of the most disgusted faces you have ever seen him make, and that combined with the poor flirting Soonyoung is trying, makes you laugh heartily. “I am so sorry Soonie, but I can’t take you seriously with that face and please stop wiggling those eyebrows.” Wiping a tear your turn your head back to Chan, “Channie you okay there?”

“Y/N, I think that you gave me a boner.” says Chan out of breath. “I think you have drank enough and your pants are just tight Chan. How are you able to walk in those is still a mystery to me, but I guess that little space is just enough for you to fit in there” you say with a wink. To say that Chan was horrified was an understatement. “THAT WAS SO UNCALLED FOR AND YOU KNOW IS NOT TRUE!!” The laughter at this point is the only audible sound in the booth, Mingyu is holding his belly while Seokmin is on the floor, Hansol is petrified along with Jun and Minghao, and Jeonghan has a smug grin on his face that says, ‘That’s my girl’, like a proud dad.

At some point there’s a loud smack of a glass on the table and all 13 heads turn to Seungkwan, now more than tipsy as he downed three more soju shots under the frowning but snickering look of Seungcheol and Wonwoo. “Oh. Mmy bad.” apologises Kwan. Seeing Seungkwan getting willingly wasted was new, and you seize the opportunity to throw in some teasing. “My my Kwannie, this is odd, what are you so upset about that makes you want to drown yourself in soju?” Sliding back in your seat you stare at him with half lidded eyes, mocking his state, while the others resume teasing Chan who you bet was ready to strip and show the whole table what was in his pants if it wasn’t for Mingyu holding him back. Seungkwan raises his head and looks at you, unfocused eyes and flushed cheeks, “You are the one making me upset.” “And why is that?” you try to ignore the sting in your stomach as you hear it. “You have been ignoring me for the whole night, while you were all over Chan.” He says with a pout. “Are you being jealous now?” you say with a big smile. You see Seungkwan pout harder, turn his head to the side and let out a ‘Hmph!’ that could rival a 5 year old. Laughing you try to win him back, “come on Kwannie, you know that I like you too, right?” “But Chan is getting special treatment…” says Seungkwan in a whisper, to which you ask: “What do you mean?”

He picks up his gaze from the floor and looks straight into your eyes, “You never let me touch you like that.” “Why, you want to touch me Kwannie?”, you say with a little smile. Instead of responding, Seungkwan sways, hard, and you jolt from your seat to get him. “You know that you can only hold that much alcohol, why are you being dumb.” You say and scoff at him, Seungkwan on the other hand is clinging on your shirt trying to steady himself. In an almost scolding tone you add: “Have you even drank some water? Or are you 70% soju now?” to which he only responds with nuzzling his cheek to you side and cling harder. Seungcheol is staring in disbelief, along with Jeonghan and Joshua. “I really can’t believe this guy.” Says the eldest, shaking his head in defeat. While Joshua just scoffs, Jeonghan adds “Kwannie, you really are lucky that you are my favourite.” “What’s up with you three? Are you going to help at least?” You say as you stare at them in disbelief “Nah, I think you can handle him quite well. I’m going to catch some air, you guys coming too?” Joshua and Jeonghan nod and rise from their seats, following Seungcheol out, the others are busy talking about some upcoming events and other stuff.

Scoffing at the trio you turn you attention back to Seungkwan, who is boring his eyes at you. “Hello there.” You say, stroking his hair, to which he smiles wide and responds with a tiny ‘Hi’. One thing for sure, Seungkwan knew he can be adorable, and that he can make you ‘melt like an ice cream in the hot summer sun.’ “Come on Kwannie, you have to drink some water” “Nooo don’t wannaa,” he retorts and resumes nuzzling his face in your belly. You grab a glass and fill it with water, nudging him to let go of you and place it in his hands. “Be good and drink it, you are going to feel like shit after this hangover.” Seungkwan closes his eyes and whines, swaying his head in an attempted ‘no’ motion.

Losing your patience and not wanting to deal with one of his tantrums while you are tipsy, you take the glass from him and cup his face with your hand. “Open your mouth.” With his eyes still closed he obeys and you press the brim to his lips, tilting slightly the glass. Seungkwan eagerly drinks the water, and half glass through, he open his eyes, those big, sweet brown eyes and stares up at you, while still swallowing the water. His gaze is intense, screaming ‘Look at me and me only’ and that makes you hand spasm a bit, tilting a bit to much the glass.

Water is spilling down his chin to his, obviously, white t-shirt, making the fabric cling to his chest. Your breath catches in your throat, and your cheeks pick up some colour. “S-sorry I did not mean to—“. Seungkwan grabs your wrist, lowering it to the table and sets down the half filled glass. Then he licks his lips, and stares back at you.

And then it hits you like a train. You quickly reach for his shot glass and smell it. It’s fucking water. This little shit was faking it the whole time. You look back at him in disbelief, and he is smirking, satisfied as he has never been before. You were blushing, ears too, half of embarrassment half from that smirk that sent a shiver down your spine, and as you were ready to call him out, you hear Jihoon: “Now THAT was hot as hell.”

You turn your head so fast your neck could break and you see the whole room staring at the two of you. At the same time from the other corner, Seungcheol whistles low and you see him and your two sweethearts staring at you, positively shocked. Seungkwan is sporting his best shit eating grin, with no ounce of embarrassment, only pride: “Did you melt baby?”

Oh he did NOT—

You look down at him and flash your most honeyed smile, making his hand on your wrist twitch. “I was surprised,” you chuckled, “you being that obedient is unusual. But I guess you can be a good boy when you really want it.” Now it was his turn to blush, but that smug smile was still there. “I know how to please you if I know that I get a reward.”

Seungkwan was on fire tonight, the lack of your attention sparked a flame of mischief you never had seen until tonight. But you were more stubborn than him, and if he wanted a show, then Mr. Entertainer is going to get one: “Please me? You acted like a brat in front of everyone, just because Chan was getting it instead of you. Are you that desperate for my attention Kwannie?” His eyes tinted with a dark veil, tilting his chin up he simply responded “Yes” and it sounded way too natural. Now that left you speechless. He quickly took the chance to speak again, claiming the stage: “I don’t like it when you let Chan touch you like that,” the hand still on you wrist started to rise up your forearm, tracing soft lines with his fingers. Shivering at his touch you swallow the saliva that has pooled in your mouth, “what did he even do to deserve it? Does he make you warm as I do? Can he make you weak with words like only I do?”

“For fucks sake please don’t drag me into this—” groans Chan. “SHUT UPP” Soonyoung whisper yells at his whining.

Seungkwan’s hand has reached your elbow, and he slowly pulled you down, your face on the same level as his now. Then he is whispering in your ear, low but loud enough to be heard in the stillness of the room. “Do you think he is hungry for you like I am? Can you even want him as much you want me? Because I know what is going on inside your head Y/N, the effect I have on you. And trust me, that it isn’t even remotely close to what you are doing to me.” He is looking in your eyes, his are pitch black, full of lust and adoration. He is leaning in, mouth parted, lips soft and licked wet, and before you can understand what is happening you are already mirroring him, closing your eyes and shortening the gap between you two —

“OUT!! OUT OF HERE YOU TWO HORNDOGS AND GET A FUCKING ROOM!!” screams a bewildered Jeonghan who is being held back by a cackling Seungcheol and Joshua is just staring, too stunned to speak. Reality falls on you like an ice bucket: all the members are holding their breath and boring their eyes on you two. Seungkwan is laughing and before you know it, he’s dragging you out of the room and the restaurant. You faintly hear more screams between Jeonghan and Soonyoung: “Hyung did you really have to?! Now we’ll never know if they are going to kiss-“ “They were ready to fuck on this table without even moving the food!! WHAT MORE CONFIRMATION DO YOU NEED??” “But the bet—!”

You are out of the restaurant and Seungkwan stops abruptly, making you crash into his back. He is waving at a cab, mask and cap already on, and he is turning to put one on you too. Just how well did this man prepare tonight?? “Kwannie wait—” “I know, it’s a mess and is happening too fucking fast, I just couldn’t wait anymore. But please let us get home first.” One cab is finally pulling over, Seungkwan has you pressed close to him, heart hammering in his chest. Before the driver comes closer, you manage to turn him to the opposite side and pull down your masks, and you finally kiss him.

It’s rushed and ungraceful, but you also could not wait anymore. Seungkwan curses under his breath, frustrated that you two did not have more time. The ride to his apartment has your body trembling with adrenaline, and his stolen touches are not helping you to calm down, but his hands are shaking too. That makes you smile and squeeze his hand, and that is everything Seungkwan needs.

This is my first smut so I'd really appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism! Please let me know if you liked it too! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3 <3 <3

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girl-in-the-chairs-void · 10 months ago

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AAAAA OH MY GOD<3333333 Please do a part 2 to hold me, console me, im eating it up

The angst is delicious, thank you<333333

Hold me, console me (part 2)

Theworst!logan x reader (part 1)

Tags: @pedroscurls

A/N: I know this goes without saying but I am a WHORE for broken men and the “I can fix him trope”, Logan fits just that. LEMME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!! (not proofread btw)

You find yourself standing in front of a familiar door that morning—Wade's door. He had been the one to play matchmaker between you and Logan, always eager to meddle in his own chaotic way.

‘Sweet and sour, just how I like my cu-‘ he used to tease about your dynamic, though he never meant harm. How could he, when all you did was bring him and Al delicious dinners and baked goods? Wade would’ve married you himself if Vanessa weren’t in the picture. ‘You’re my twin flame,’ he’d often joke, even though you were nothing like him. You were quiet, reserved, and detested socializing unless it was within the comfort of either your or Wade’s apartment.

Now, here you are, on the morning of your worst heartbreak, clutching a tub of ice cream and a bag of microwavable popcorn outside his door.

Three sharp knocks echo in the hallway. You hear a clatter from inside, followed by a string of muffled curses, until the door swings open to reveal a face that knocks the air right out of you.

Logan.

“Oh...” Your eyes widen as you freeze, a storm of emotions brewing within you.

Before you can stop yourself, you push past him, setting down the ice cream and popcorn on a nearby table. When you turn around, your face is met with the solid wall of his chest. He looks down at you, sorrow etched deep into his features. And suddenly, everything boils over.

“You,” you spit, fire blazing in your eyes. You strike his chest, again and again, and he lets you—lets you unleash your frustration, your anger, because he knows he deserves it.

“You left. No warning, no note. You were just... gone! Clothes packed, phone off! What were you thinking? I begged you to stay, Logan. I begged.” Your voice cracks, and the tears come, burning hot down your cheeks. But all you notice is the tears in his eyes, and the soft rustle of movement from the kitchen where Wade is likely listening.

You try to ignore the thought of Al and Wade overhearing your heartbreak, keeping your tear-blurred gaze fixed on Logan.

“Bub—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “I know it’s hard, Logan. I do. I was there when Wade went through his worst. I’ve stood by friends in their darkest days. I want to be there for you, through everything. But you shut me out.”

Your voice trembles, betraying you, and you see him instinctively move to hold you, but you step back, wiping at your tears. The hurt in his eyes is unmistakable, but you continue.

“I’m sorry if you think I’m pushing you too hard. I’m sorry if I ask for too much. But I love you, Logan. And no matter how much you run, I won’t leave you. Not ever.”

The silence between you lingers, thick with unsaid words, before it’s broken by slow clapping from the kitchen.

“You really hit him with that one, sweets,” Wade’s voice calls out. “No, seriously, I was just telling him he should’ve dealt with his frustration by boning you—”

But Wade’s words are cut short. Before you know it, Logan’s grabbed your wrist and is pulling you toward the door, past Wade’s crude commentary. He leads you out of Wade's apartment, two doors down to your own, ignoring the continued yells from Wade behind you.

“Logan, what—?” you barely get the words out before his arms are around you, lifting you from the waist until your face is nestled against the crook of his neck. You feel the warmth of his tears against your skin, his body trembling with quiet sobs.

You hold him, your hands moving to comfort him, running through his hair, soothing his ragged breathing.

“You—” he starts, his voice breaking with the weight of it. “In my world... you died. I killed you. I let you die.” His voice shakes as the sobs take over. “I never meant to... I didn’t mean to let them die, bub.”

You feel his knees give way, and the two of you sink to the cold hallway floor. He’s crying harder now, his grip tightening around you as if letting go might make you disappear too.

“I’m sorry, I’m so—”

“Shhh,” you whisper, cutting him off softly. “I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He clings to you, his desperation palpable. You pull away just enough to cup his face in your hands. “Look at me, Logan. I’m alive. You didn’t lose me—not here.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, feeling his breath begin to slow, then to his tear-soaked eyelids. You kiss him softly, murmuring gentle reassurances between each touch.

“I’m here. I’ll hold you. I’ll love you. Forever. Does that sound like a deal?”

As you cradle Logan’s face in your hands, his breathing starts to slow. The raw emotion in his eyes begins to soften, though the weight of everything still lingers in the air between you. He looks at you, truly seeing you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, a small, shaky smile begins to form on his lips. It’s brief, but it’s there. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t say that,” you reply softly. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

For a long moment, neither of you moves, the cold floor grounding you both in the present. His arms are still tight around your waist, as though letting go might shatter the fragile peace you’ve found. You stay like that, the world outside your apartment and Wade’s chaotic energy fading into the background.

Eventually, you pull back slightly, your hands sliding from his face to his shoulders.

“Come on,” you say gently. “Let’s get up. You’re going to catch a cold sitting here, even if it’s for a little bit.” You say, aware of his super healing.

Logan hesitates, as if reluctant to let go of the closeness, but then he nods. You both stand slowly, your legs shaky from the emotional intensity. Without a word, you lead him into your apartment, closing the door behind you.

Inside, the dim lighting casts a soft glow over the room. It’s quiet, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that just unraveled in the hallway. You sit on the couch, and Logan follows, sitting beside you. There’s still a heaviness in his movements, a man weighed down by too many ghosts from his past, but he’s here. He’s with you.

For a few minutes, the silence is comfortable. You lean against him, his arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is a soothing reminder that despite everything, you’re both still here—alive, together.

“You don’t have to talk,” you say softly, sensing the turmoil still swirling inside him. “Not now. Not until you’re ready.”

Logan’s thumb traces slow circles on your shoulder, a sign that he’s listening. After a moment, he speaks, his voice quiet but steady.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready,” he admits. “But... I want to try.”

You turn to face him, your heart swelling with a mixture of hope and sadness. “That’s all I need to hear.”

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sorry for leaving,” he whispers. “For everything.”

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of his words. “I know. But you’re here now. And we’ll figure it out. Together.” You reach for his hand, giving it three squeezes before reaching up to give him a peck, one of reassurance.

For the first time in a long while, you both let the quiet settle, not out of avoidance, but out of mutual understanding. The journey ahead might not be easy, but it’s a path you’ll walk side by side. As the minutes tick by, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You’re not alone in this—neither of you are. And for now, that’s enough.

Suddenly, a loud knock on your door breaks the silence that makes you jump, followed by Wade’s unmistakable voice shouting through the wood.

“Hey! Are you two done with the emotional stuff yet? I’ve got pancakes in here, and they’re getting cold!”

You exchange a glance with Logan, both of you barely suppressing a laugh. The tension in the room eases just a bit, the smallest sliver of normalcy creeping back in.

“We should probably go before he kicks the door down,” you say with a smirk.

Logan stands and offers you a hand, his expression a little lighter now. “Yeah,” he agrees, a small but genuine smile finally reaching his eyes.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you both walk back toward the world—not broken, but healing, one step at a time.

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett #the wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlet smut #Logan howlet fluff #Logan fic #Logan fluff #logan angst #Logan and wade #the wolverine x reader #Logan #x men #x men fic #hugh jackman

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aventurineswife · 5 months ago

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Where Luck Meets Grace

Summary: Tasked with investigating Aventurine, the infamous IPC strategist and gambler, you—a reserved Halovian and estranged sibling of Robin and Sunday—are drawn into a battle of wits with the charismatic risk-taker. What begins as a professional confrontation turns into an intricate game of strategy, charm, and hidden vulnerabilities. Beneath the tension lies an undeniable pull, one that neither of you can fully deny, as barbs and banter slowly give way to a deeper connection.

Tags: @primordialjadespear, Aventurine x Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Flirting & Banter, Mutual Pining, Reserved Halovian!Reader, Gambling as a Metaphor, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Light psychological manipulation, Mentions of survivor’s guilt and traumatic pasts (briefly hinted for both characters), Power dynamics in conversation, Subtle romantic tension and implied mutual attraction.

[Credits to @imyiths on Twitter/X]

The air in Penacony’s upper echelons was heavy with tension, a silence punctuated only by the rhythmic tapping of Aventurine's gold ring against his glass. He lounged at the VIP table of the Sapphire Spire, the most exclusive club in the city-state, its crystalline architecture shimmering in Penacony's perpetual twilight. Across from him, you stood, your back straight and your wings quivering faintly with restrained irritation, a faint flicker of your halo betraying your mood.

You were an enigma to most: the aloof, forgotten third sibling of the famed Halovian siblings, Robin and Sunday. While they basked in the admiration of the Harmony’s followers, you had chosen to walk a quieter path. But tonight, you had been summoned—no, dragged—into this farce of an evening by your so-called peers, tasked with reining in the unpredictable Aventurine.

“I’ll admit,” Aventurine began, his eyes glinting like a gamble already won, “when they told me one of the Halovians was coming, I expected someone… friendlier.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles, the ever-present smirk curling his lips. “Instead, they sent you.”

You didn’t flinch, though his words pricked at you like needles. Instead, you tilted your head, letting the subtle radiance of your halo shimmer as you replied, your voice cool and measured. “And I expected a professional. Instead, I find a jester playing at being a strategist.”

His laugh was as rich as the wine in his glass, cutting through the tension like a blade. “A sharp tongue, paired with sharp feathers. Careful—you might find yourself clipped if you’re not careful.”

Your wings stiffened behind you, feathers catching the dim light as your gaze hardened. “I didn’t come here to exchange barbs, Aventurine. Let’s discuss what you’ve done to land yourself in Penacony’s debt crisis.”

His grin widened. “Ah, straight to business. Very Halovian of you.” He waved a dismissive hand, his jewelry clinking softly. “But where’s the fun in that? A game is far more enlightening than a lecture, don’t you think?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but his words had already cast their spell. Before you could stop him, he produced a deck of ornate cards, shuffling them with practiced ease. “One game. High stakes. Winner gets to dictate the terms of this little arrangement. What do you say?”

You frowned, folding your arms. “I don’t gamble.”

“Everyone gambles,” he said smoothly, sliding the deck across the table toward you. “Some just call it diplomacy.”

Against your better judgment, you took the deck. The moment your fingers touched the cool, embossed cards, you felt a flicker of something—an unspoken challenge, laced with something deeper. You knew what this was: a test of wit, of will. And, perhaps, something more.

The game was tense, your every move met with Aventurine’s sly commentary. Yet, as the rounds passed, you found yourself matching him, move for move, wit for wit. The faintest hint of respect flickered in his eyes, though his smile never wavered.

“You’re good,” he murmured, breaking the silence as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your wings flutter. “Better than I expected.”

“And you’re insufferable,” you replied, though there was a faint curve to your lips now, a warmth you hadn’t intended to show.

He chuckled, tipping his hat. “High praise, coming from you.”

As the hours stretched on, the game became less about the cards and more about the dance between you. His charm was relentless, his words weaving a web that you couldn’t quite escape, even as you countered him with your own measured grace.

Finally, as the last card was played, Aventurine leaned forward, his smile softer now, almost genuine. “A draw. How fitting.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me this was all for nothing?”

“Not for nothing,” he said, his voice low. For the first time, his gaze lacked its usual playful edge. “I learned something tonight.”

You tilted your head, curious despite yourself. “And what’s that?”

“That even the most unshakable Halovian can falter.” His smile returned, though it was tinged with something deeper now. “And that, my dear, makes you far more interesting than your siblings.”

Your halo flickered, betraying the sudden rush of emotion his words stirred. You quickly smoothed your expression, rising from your seat. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he called after you, his voice lilting, “you’re already planning our next game.”

You paused, wings twitching, but you didn’t look back. Perhaps, just this once, he was right.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #enemies to lovers #strangers to lovers #halovian!reader #slow burn #flirting and banter #mutual pining #reserved #gambling as a metaphor #emotional vulnerability

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yuma-mukami-garden-god · 20 days ago

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I can't believe your blog doesn't get the views it truly deserves!! :<

So, out of all the diaboys — from most to least likely — who do you think would be the 'comfy boyfriend' type?

Like, the kind who tags along on shopping trips, listens to gossip, and spends cozy nights doing skincare and watching movies with his S/O?

Most Likely Comfy Boyfriend (only done the S and M boys but let's be real Carla shin and kino are probably quite low down the list too and I can't imagine karlheinz or richter doing any of this without something to gain)

1. Reiji Sakamaki

Despite his strict, cold exterior, Reiji is responsible and attentive. He’d quietly enjoy the routine of shopping together and is surprisingly patient during gossip sessions, maybe even offering dry but affectionate commentary. He’d definitely be down for skincare nights and classic movies, as long as he can maintain a little control.

2. Yuma Mukami

Yuma’s energetic but surprisingly affectionate side shines in private. He’d love tagging along, cracking jokes during shopping, and cuddling up for movie marathons. He might tease you a bit but ultimately enjoys simple, cozy bonding.

3. Azusa Mukami

The softest Mukami brother, Azusa is gentle and sweet. He’s definitely into low-key nights and would happily share skincare routines or watch your favorite shows, cherishing the calm and closeness.

4. Subaru Sakamaki

Though moody and rebellious, Subaru has a hidden soft spot. When comfortable, he can be a loyal companion, quietly sitting through gossip and enjoying quiet movie nights with his S/O.

5. Kanato Sakamaki

Kanato is tricky—his dark, childish side can be intense, but when he’s in a good mood, he craves affection and can be surprisingly clingy. Comfy moments would be mixed with unpredictable bursts of energy, but he’d love being close.

6. Shu Sakamaki

Laid-back and aloof, Shu prefers solitude but can be a comfy boyfriend in his own way—lounging together, sharing quiet music, and chilling without much fuss. He’s less about shopping or gossip, more about just existing together comfortably.

7. Laito Sakamaki

Flirty and playful, Laito’s comfy side is rare and usually comes with teasing. He might pretend to be disinterested in errands but secretly enjoys time together. He’s more about spontaneous fun than routine coziness.

8. Ruki Mukami

The most serious and commanding, Ruki values order and might find shopping trips or gossip a bit trivial. He’s affectionate in his own way but not the stereotypical “comfy boyfriend”—more like a strict but caring guardian.

9. Kou Mukami

Independent and cool, Kou is affectionate but not overly sentimental. He’s less likely to join in gossip or skincare nights but will support you silently and be present when it counts.

10. Carla Tsukinami

Elegant and refined, Carla is affectionate but prefers more formal or artistic outings over casual, comfy routines. Cozy movie nights might happen, but he’s more about a quiet, classy vibe.

11. Shin Tsukinami

The quiet, stoic type who’s probably indifferent to gossip and shopping, but would still enjoy calm nights in — just without much fuss or enthusiasm.

12. Azusa (Mukami)

Gentle and sweet but shy, he might be comfy once fully relaxed but is more reserved about joining lively activities like gossip or shopping trips.

#asks open #anon asks #anime and manga #diabolik boys #diabolik lovers #diaboys #dialovers #yuma mukami #littlehoeart #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #yuma mukami garden god #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #azusa mukami

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loosesodamarble · 8 months ago

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About the recent chapter drop...

So chapters 374, 375, and 376 of the Black Clover manga dropped as of the day I've started drafting this post. I have many feelings about this chapter, as several friends can attest. I was going a little a lot feral in a group chat.

Wanna quickly tag @thoughtfullyrainynightmare, @lyranova, and @kalolasfantasyworld for encouraging me to write this little essay. I'll also tag @drmarune as a fellow Faust fan (I know you also love the Yami family so hopefully my thoughts on them are satisfactory).

So let me begin with saying that I'm mainly a Faust girlie. But I will be covering both the Yami and the Fausts to the best of my abilities because the family stories are connected. I cannot give thorough commentary on the chapters if I ignore what's going on with Yami and Ichika.

Okay so! Where to start with my analysis?

I guess the most obvious place to start is with Chapter 374. Title: Demon-God. The "Demon-God" in question is supposed to be Yami. Yami's Dark Magic is seen as ominous and being the attribute of a supreme devil enhances its demonic connotation. Grey, while healing Yami's wounds in chapter 323, noted that Yami's body had become devil-like. Yami is infamously known as the "God of Destruction" in Clover Kingdom. And finally, in chapter 342, Ichika and Yami's father stated that the Yami clan reserves a title for the strongest member of them. The title: Demon-God. (In other words, this chapter could've been titled "Yami Sukehiro" and it wouldn't have changed anything./lh

Looking between when Yami takes the demon soul pill and the fuzzy glimpses of when Ichika took the pill, I'm wondering if the main reason Yami was able to stay sane while under the drug's effects has to do with his current condition. What I mean is... Ichika was just... kinda there. There's not much detail but there didn't seem to be much going on and Ichika and Yami's father just gave Ichika the drug on a whim. There was no outlet for the surge in Ichika's physical prowess. Meanwhile, Yami takes the drug while severely injured but also in the mindset that he has to get up and help fight off Lucius's army. His physical abilities are getting kicked into high gear and he has something to target with those powers. Maybe my reading is weird or wrong. But could it be that the reason no member of the Yami clan was able to stay in control when they took the drug is because they weren't taking it in the right condition. Like, being on death's door probably isn't a prerequisite but maybe no one took the drug with firm grasp on what to do with the excess power. I dunno.

Rewinding a bit... That reunion! FUCKING IMPECCABLE! I love the way Yami at first sees Ichika as a little kid. The way he remembered her last he saw took precedence over reality for a moment (AND HE'S NOT THE ONLY VICTIM OF IT!). I love Ichika's apology; the way she details the truths she learned recently (probably not just from her memories being triggered but I'd assume she had Ryuu clarify everything to her so she could really be thankful to Yami for making sure she'd be alright) then topping it off with the "I'm sorry." As a little sister who has misinterpreted things done by my older siblings, I really felt for Ichika. I can tell that Ichika is in pain, realizing how she wronged Yami by viewing him as a destroyer, but there's also so clearly a relief in knowing that the whole time, he had her best interests at heart. (Okay, my sisters never murdered our whole family clan, but you get the idea.) And Yami doesn't linger on it. He accepts her apology and even points out how he had help making sure Ichika was okay.

The flashback of Yami and Ryuuya parting ways... Ryuu always believed in Yami. Also, I love the panel of Yami with the torii gate and the rising sun behind him. The juxtaposition of the torii gate and rising sun - very Japanese and thus Hino symbols - with Yami being just about to leave Hino is like... Symbols of his homeland seeing him off essentially. MAN! I FELT SOMETHING THERE! Anyways, I know that Yami and Ryuu are looking forward to meeting up again now that they know it's possible.

Now back to when Yami has taken the demon soul pill. Yami is taking on his final form as the Demon-God of Destruction. I love the way Yami's form looks.

The splatter of blood from his wounds is replaced by Dark Magic spreading over his body. The facial markings draw one's attention to Yami's eyes and it makes me think of how on oni masks in noh theater(? I think I have that right), the upper brow and the cheeks are scrunched closer to the eye area to frame the eyes. I'm talking out of my ass here, sorry. His thoughts in the moment too are so juicy! Before, his protection of Ichika meant abandoning her. No more of that though; they're together again and Yami will keep it that way.

I love how his panel shows that Yami has incarnated into a true God of Destruction. But he's not destroying aimlessly. He's in control and he's directing his path of chaos towards Lucius's madness and will tear it apart to save everyone.

Yami and Ichika don't get to have a long heart-to-heart due to the present circumstances but Tabata gave them just long enough to breathe and reconcile. To me, it also keeps in line with the way the Yami family works. Yami Sukehiro is quick to act and react. He bears some heavy burdens in his life but he is not a man who wallows in pity or sorrow. His response to adversity is to take it in stride as best he can and make his way towards the future. He accepts Ichika's apology and the pill to awaken what has always been a part of him: the will to protect. Ichika is shaken from seeing her brother so helpless and pouring her heart out in what little time she had. And Yami did shield her at the end of chapter 374, but in the next chapters, she's locked into a fighting mindset. She says herself that she won't stand by any more; she intends to shoulder the responsibility of this battle and fight alongside her brother as an equal. The Yamis are resilient people who can take so much, and the burdens are made easier now that they can carry them together.

Speaking of together, the combo spell that Yami and Ichika have is called "Black Heavens." It's got layers! The Yami clan are connected to demons and devils through their Dark Magic and thus stand opposite of the heavens thematically speaking. The combo spell also builds off of Ichika's Black Star spell and Yami's Black Hole spell. The way the Dark Magic is the antithesis of a religious heaven, darkness is what makes up most of the spatial heavens is awesome. Also the fact that black holes form when stars die and collapse... Yami is the older (and thus closer to dying) sibling... I just needed to put those thoughts out there while still firmly on the topic of the Yami siblings.

Now onto the next chapters...

Chapters 375 and 376 have to be talked together because just like Nacht and Morgen as twins, and just like the Faust-Yami dramas, the two are connected! 375 is titled Strafe and 376 is Sühne. The English releases of the chapters clarify that the words mean "punishment" and "atonement" respectively (if there is any specific connotations to those words, they're lost on me and I would happily accept any clarifications). (Also note that the words are German; Faust and Germany just go hand-in-hand). I've already made a post about Nacht and how his character centers on the themes of punishment and atonement. To quickly summarize, Nacht's character is about continually punishing himself as his atonement for killing Morgen. (I do also point out how he avoids forgiveness as a way to resolve his guilt, but there isn't a chapter titled "Forgiveness" here, now is there?) So these chapters seem to be Tabata's finale for Nacht (and Morgen). (I do hope that a page of the next chapter does see Nacht and Morgen sharing some final words, because if Acier got to give her kids some kind of goodbye, then Morgen should get a chance to say something to Nacht as well. Please Tabata.)

Moving on from just the chapter titles! What actually happens in the two chapters?

Chapter 375 starts with Nacht getting a good look at Morgen and, like the fandom did chapters ago, clocking the devil that Morgen is in possession of: Lucifugus. The wretched memory of the day Nacht tried to summon Lucifugus is burned into his memory; of course he'd recognize the bastard.

Regarding Nacht's thought that Lucifugus is controlling Morgen's body... We know from Sister Lily's words/behaviors (a bit of Acier too at the very end for her) that the human beings who have been turned into Paladins are still conscious/aware/present as themselves. It's just that Lucius's brainwashing is forcing them to believe a certain way, spout that nonsense about "saving the world," and take the actions they are taking. Put simply: a fragment of their true selves exists within the false persona of the Paladin that Lucius forced on them. However, I'm certain that Nacht knows it is in fact Morgen in control but he's trying to tell himself otherwise.

I mean, looking back at chapter 374, Nacht's immediate reaction to seeing Paladin Morgen is to mentally call him Morgen! It's then here in chapter 375 where Nacht is saying that Morgen isn't in control.

Nacht is distressed. He's face-to-face with Morgen, whom he killed, and using the very same power that Nacht had tried to gain and caused Morgen's demise. It's double the shame and guilt on Nacht's conscious. And so he tells himself that it's Lucifugus, not really Morgen, in control. It's an act of desperation. Nacht is trying to convince himself that it's not Morgen's he's facing as a way to relieve himself of some of the stress/anguish that would come from this battle and defeating his opponent. Because if it's not really Morgen, then Nacht wouldn't have to feel any more guilt/grief about it, would he?

I think it's entirely in-character of Nacht. He's attempting to distance himself from the reality before him, similar to how he distanced his past failings from his own person by projecting his criticisms onto the Black Bulls. It never erased his feelings of self-loathing, but it was what Nacht did so he wouldn't just sit and wallow in misery. He pushed his self-hatred onto others and became the cold, critical vice captain of the Black Bulls to fulfill his mission of spying on Spade Kingdom. And now, instead of projection, he's straight up denying things. In this battle against Paladin Morgen, Nacht is trying to ignore the painful reality in order to spare his feelings and see the fight through.

But Nacht couldn't deny the truth for long.

Lucifugus wouldn't be saying these things to him. Who knows what Lucifugus would say to Nacht, if anything at all. Either way, it's Morgen speaking to Nacht. And it shakes Nacht to his core. Not the mention that what Morgen says would also drive the knife deeper into Nacht's heart. The brothers may not have been close while Morgen was alive, but Morgen still understands Nacht enough to call out his feelings of despair.

The way I'm reading it, Nacht falters in battle because he can no longer lie to himself. He's fighting Morgen. A twisted up version of his beloved younger brother, but it's Morgen nonetheless. In submitting to that reality, his feelings (guilt, sorrow, remorse) overwhelm Nacht and it gives Morgen the chance to gain the upper hand in their fight.

And like with Yami seeing Ichika as her younger self for a moment, Nacht's view of Morgen is from ten years back (you can tell by the fluffy robe having having grey shading while Morgen's Paladin robe is pure white and the details on the collar area). At least for one page, we know that Nacht sees Morgen not as the enemy Paladin, but as the kind and noble Magic Knight he used to be. (The present and Nacht's memories of Morgen overlapping and distracting him earlier on too is something I personally believe in just to make it all the more painful. But that's more headcanon and not analysis.)

Nacht laments how he thought he'd already cried all his tears before. But that can't be the case. Nacht's love for Morgen is an active and present feeling for Nacht. So long as Nacht loves Morgen is something alive in his heart, he will find himself crying over and over again for the loss of Morgen's life. That's the way it seems to be turning out for Nacht. Unless he completely closed his heart off to his affection for Morgen, his tears will never truly dry up. It's small, quick line in the chapter but it speaks so deeply to Nacht's feelings. In contrast to Yami who can take things in stride and move on, Nacht is someone who holds onto his suffering and lets it haunt him to the depths of his soul. Nacht and his thoughts focus on things that are gone and cannot be changed. While he does live in the present and makes things better for the future, Nacht has trapped himself with thoughts of a past that can't be undone. It's part of the tragedy that is Nacht's character.

(Real quick, we're going to put a pin in Morgen saying "Brother, let's start over again. Together!" Right before he attempts to blast the ever loving crap out of Nacht. Mixed messages much?)

I wanna bring back the title of chapter 375: Strafe (Punishment). Back in chapters 285 and 287 (coincidentally before and after Nacht's backstory in chapter 286), Nacht thinks to himself "I don't care if I die." Nacht nearly sacrificed himself three times during the battle. Devaluing his life over and over was Nacht's way of punishing himself for his past. And now Nacht is repeating that behavior as he tells himself that he'll defeat the Lucius clone and Morgen even if it kills him. Nacht showed himself some mercy when he stated his intent to live with the Bulls properly. However, he didnt actually stop seeing himself as an expendable sacrifice; in his eyes, his death is worth more than any life he could life. Which hurts to see as a Nacht fan! This time, though, Nacht isn't endangering himself as punishment but he still receives it. Morgen, the very person Nacht wronged so many years ago, is the one delivering the punishment. Physically and emotionally, Nacht's being destroyed. And, in my eyes, it could be that Nacht is okay with it. He didn't stop hating himself, he just stopped acting on that self-destructive feeling. He's accepting Morgen's attacks because Nacht's pain in the present can't be as bad as the pain Morgen felt as he died.

Thankfully, Yami comes in for the save. And when he gives Nacht another talking to, Yami says this:

Yami knows that Nacht didn't let go of the past. That he's been quietly keeping the pain in his heart. The way Yami validates the idea that Morgen's death is a sin on Nacht's part is fascinating. Looking at the big picture, it was more an unfortunate accident; Nacht did incite it by summoning Lucifugus but Morgen chose to destroy the relic with his own hands. Neither Nacht nor Morgen are to blame, they just took actions in line with who they are and it resulted in Morgen's sacrifice. Whether or not Yami wholeheartedly agrees with Nacht's view is a discussion for another time but here, in the moment, Yami leans into it. Yami speaks to Nacht based on those beliefs. From there, he drill it into Nacht's head that if he's going to hold onto what happened as his sin, then he has to use it as a way to push himself into the right course of action rather than let it stop him dead in his tracks. In chapter 376, Ichika also chimes in to get Nacht on his feet again. Her remark isn't only directed at herself; it resonates with Nacht too. Neither of them can leave Yami to deal with Morgen on his own. They don't have the luxury to stand idle and both of them are people that are above being victims of their pasts. Yami was there to protect them so they have to do the same.

Yami and Ichika's words together deliver a powerful message. “If you are going to carry a sin on your conscious, do something with it.” For Nacht (and anyone really), it's a mistake to acknowledge his faults and leave it at that. It doesn't do any good. To give meaning to his sin and the feelings that come with it, Nacht has to act upon them. He has to do what needs to be done to make up for the sin. That means killing Morgen again, not as a tragic accident but as an act of care and the means to free his spirit. It doesn't erase a thing but it makes things as right as they can be.

Quick break from Nacht and his feelings regarding Morgen to have a talk about Yami and his Morgen related feelings!

Yami has a moment to share words with Morgen. He makes it clear that his ire is directed at Lucius. In Yami's mind, there's no real blame on Morgen for his actions as a Paladin. He understands that Morgen wouldn't want so much death and destruction in the name of a new world. It's all Lucius's manipulations. And this view of Morgen again shows the contrast between Yami and Nacht. Nacht is stuck in the past and is seeing Morgen as his dear brother who he couldn't do anything for. Meanwhile, Yami's thoughts are in the present and he's seeing Morgen not as his friend but as an unfortunate puppet being controlled. Yami does acknowledge Morgen as the enemy but he's drawing a fine line between Paladin Morgen and the Morgen he knew.

Also, Yami's desire to see the memory of Morgen be untainted by his deeds as a Paladin is an interesting contrast to his usual feelings towards being looked down on. He's shrugs off most insults towards him (though he can admit when his feelings do get hurt) and is fine with the Black Bulls being considered the worst squad. But Morgen is different. Yami doesn't want to see Morgen become someone tainted by acts of cruelty, even if they aren't entirely his own choice. It says so much about Yami for him to want to preserve the integrity of Morgen's memory. He treasures his friendship with Morgen so deeply because Morgen was one of the first people to accept Yami and believe he could be a squad captain. Yami won't let anyone have any reason to think unfavorably of Morgen. He who saw the good in all should be seen as good by all. That is Yami's belief. I love it so much.

Back to focusing on Nacht!

We return to Nacht at the start of chapter 376: Sühne (Atonement). This chapter really is all about Nacht's final act of atonement for the sin he'd been punishing himself over for years.

Now before he re-enters the battle, Nacht has a moment of contemplation. The dream he describes is brief but it carries so much meaning. Nacht looks back and wishes he'd joined the Grey Deers as Morgen had always suggested he do. He really had always desired a closeness with Morgen but his fear of doing harm to his brother instead outweighed his love. His regret over not taking Morgen's hand sooner is evident and it again drives home the idea that Nacht's thoughts always return to the past to haunt him. And the line about Nacht and Yami fighting over Morgen's attention shatters my heart further because-!

Morgen probably would've chosen Nacht over Yami if he had the option. As much as Morgen and Yami made a good team, Morgen wanted to share that understanding and synergy with Nacht.

(Also, we are creating another pin for this moment.)

Both of the Fausts were jealous of the bond that Yami had their brother! Morgen and Nacht are more alike than either of the realize and it's yet another tragedy in their lives that they will never know that about each other! I JUST! AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGH! I can't be calm about this, guys! Morgen and Nacht keep reaching into my soul and drawing out more of my love and tears with how their dynamic continues to grow more heartbreaking!

(Deep breaths, Soda! Take deep, slow breaths now...)

Nacht thinks about how Morgen would've smiled at his and Yami's antics. Morgen is always smiling in Nacht's memories (except when he infiltrated the Fausts' devil ritual basement and tried to dissuade Nacht from summoning Lucifugus, but that was a special circumstance). Morgen's smile being so ever-present in Nacht (and Yami's) recollections of him goes to show that he was a beacon of positivity to both of them. Morgen was light, warmth, happiness.

But Nacht always wakes from that dream and he cries each time, mourning the loss of something that never was but could've been. But he refused to have any of that, having pushed Morgen away each time he asked Nacht to join him. Instead Nacht chose the path of devils and Forbidden Magic. He widened the chasm between himself and Morgen. His actions have led him to a world where he caused his brother's death and now will have to see him die again. In short, the first page of chapter 376 is about the ache caused by what Nacht wants in his dreams and what he has to face in reality.

We cut to Yami fighting Morgen for a bit which includes Morgen refuting Yami's statement that Lucius is a bastard. And we also see Morgen saying

(Adding another pin for that. We'll come back, promise. It's just that I want to divulge the very depths of my Morgen thoughts closer to the end [closer to Morgen's end really].)

I've already discussed how Ichika's words with Nacht help him with his mental/emotional breakthrough so I'll skip over that portion of chapter 376.

As I said at the start, the Faust and Yami family stories are connected. They parallel each other. The families are connected to demons or devils (demon soul pills for Yamis and devil binding ritual for Fausts). The elder sibling was seen as an ideal heir (Yami's strength was lauded by his father and Nacht's father said that Nacht "inherited the magic and the spirit" for dealing with devils). Despite not being what their parents wanted, the younger siblings do find an honorable place for themselves in society: Ichika becomes a Ryuzen Seven and Morgen was a Magic Knight. Both families experience a tragedy and the ideal heir from either family withdraws from their younger sibling, but those events happen in different orders between the two. The Yami clan was slaughtered and then Yami left Hino while taking the blame for the incident. In the Faust family, Nacht emotionally pulling away from Morgen and going down the path of devils is what led to the confrontation in the ritual room and everyone's deaths. Nacht and Yami carry the burden of those incidents. Nacht blames and punishes himself for his crime against Morgen. Yami takes the blame for a crime he didn't commit for Ichika's sake.

The families also contrast each other. Before the Yami clan was destroyed, Yami and Ichika were rather close (Yami urged Ichika to follow him when he left the house in that one flashback). But, as said earlier, Nacht and Morgen had grown apart before Morgen's death. Yami and Ichika look remarkably different but their magics are the same. Nacht and Morgen are identical twins but their magic attributes are different (but complementary). Yami protected Ichika in the past and now has a chance to fight alongside her. Nacht hurt Morgen in the past and has to fight against him in the present. The Yami family's resolution brings them closer together and heals them. The Faust family's resolution involves once against being separated and an unending pain for Nacht.

Talk about a well-constructed narrative and characters right there.

Now that I've noted the families' connections, it's time to return my focus to solely the Fausts.

Nacht's words to himself before he re-enters the fray. Again, his thoughts turn to his own death. But here he admits that dying would be the easy way out for him. He looked down on his own life, sought his death, because dying would be an escape from having to carry the guilt for the rest of his life. Then Nacht comes a realization: "Tears don't mark the end of sin." He realizes now that leaving his emotions to stew won't resolve the sin. What Nacht needs to do is to fully atone for what he did and that will give closure for what he's held onto for so long.

Nacht's four devil Unite form isn't as complex as his other forms but it doesn't bother me. It's probably for the better that Tabata didn't try to design something that incorporated elements from all four forms. Equus gets the most representation in the four-way Devil Unite with shields and the minimal armor around his shoulders. Otherwise, Nacht is simply cloaked in shadows and the combined might of his devils (and anti-magic, can't forget the anti-magic). I love the clear view of all the facial markings brought on by the devil unions (especially since the face covering that came with Equus form made it hard to tell where the markings were!). He's lowkey matching Yami and his facial markings. AND THE CROWN OF HORNS! MY GOODNESS! My friends know how much I get worked up over Nacht and his horns. I'm positively feral that Tabata has given me canonical eight-horned Nacht! KJADHGIUAEHTHAEIHT! (Coherent thoughts, Soda!) Also, I can also tell that the combined power has made the horns manifest larger than they usually would on Nacht. Him using all four devils at once is him fully embracing his dark past. Maybe he formed his contracts with Gimodelo and the others in the wrong mindset, but things have changed. He's using an "evil" power that killed Morgen for good, to save Morgen (through death but saving regardless).

Morgen, upon seeing Nacht unleash his full potential says something he said during Nacht's flashbacks of him: that Nacht has the greatest talent for magic. He even says "I knew it" and looks eager/fascinated by what he's seeing. Morgen really does have so much faith in his older brother. It'd be sweeter if the two of them weren't on a collision course for combat.

And what a feast for the eyes the battle is. It turns into chaos, but a beautiful

The combo spell from Nacht empowered Shadow Magic and the Yamis' Dark Magic is Walpurgis Night. It's of course tied to Nacht more than the Yamis, as that event is celebrated the night and day of Nacht and Morgen's birth dates. There is so much more to Nacht and Morgen's connection to that holiday since it's about warding evil spirits and protection of witchcraft. Like, Morgen first protected Nacht from Lucifugus and now Nacht has to protect the world from the evil Morgen is enacting on behalf of Lucius. That's all I can say about that though since that's basically all I know about Walpurgis Night. (Maybe in the future I can read through all of Wikipedia's cited sources and more to actually know the whole deal.)

Morgen puts up quite the fight against three opponents, two of whom have their physical and magical abilities at their peak at the moment. He doesn't know it but these are his final moments.

So let me talk about what I've observed and come to believe about Morgen.

Morgen Faust. A man who was good incarnate. The very picture of a good man. Who loved everyone and was loved by everyone. It was in his nature to help, save, and protect others. But his perfect image hid someone who probably felt very lonely.

Let's bring back those pins we gathered earlier. The first two pins (the starting over and Morgen admitting Yami was a better partner for Nacht) are very easily connected. Morgen's dream had been to be close with Nacht, to stand side-by-side with him. But they weren't close. Then Morgen saw Yami, a stranger from a foreign land, connect to Nacht with incredible ease. It probably hurt Morgen to see that, to see that Nacht found someone else to share his joys with. Morgen didn't hate Yami for being more compatible with Nacht and even befriended Yami himself. Morgen, at least in my personal headcanons, might've seen getting close to Yami as a way of better understanding Nacht. But even though Morgen could get along with someone who was Nacht's friend, he still couldn't directly close the gap between him and his brother. Again and again, Morgen suggested Nacht join the Magic Knights but was always brushed aside. And so Morgen was left feeling frustrated and probably a little lonely too because he couldn't have the one bond he wished for.

In reading the recent chapters and looking back on old chapters regarding him, I wonder if Morgen reached out to and accepted others so easily because of his missing connection with Nacht. As in, being pushed away by Nacht made Morgen want to ensure that no one else felt rejected or left alone. It's not compensating for something he lacked, but rather a reaction of "I was hurt in the one way so I will protect others from that same hurt." I believe Morgen genuinely cared for the people he knew in some capacity though not in the same way he valued Nacht. To apply some specific terminology, Morgen holds storgic love ("Because we have the specific bond of family, I love you") for Nacht and agapic love ("Because you are a human being, I love you") for everyone else. So Morgen loved everyone. And everyone loved him back. Though I doubt the adoration of strangers did anything to soothe the ache Morgen felt over Nacht's absence in his life. Either we've experienced it ourselves or seen it represented in media: Person A has an event and want Person B there to support them; the event comes around and A discovers B isn't there so even if they win or get praise from others, not having B there makes it hard to celebrate. That's what it probably was like for Morgen not having Nacht with him.

In the end, Morgen was unable to close the rift between himself and Nacht. And it was his dying regret. Revived a Paladin, Morgen voices his desire to start over with Nacht, to make right the mistake of not being close to him when he was originally alive.

The lack of a specific bond wasn't the only thing making Morgen lonely. I think Morgen also isolated himself in a way. He put himself under pressure to be strong by himself.

Let's bring back pin three, where Morgen says he'll clear the way for a new world. Looking at that alone, he's kinda just saying that he's following Lucius's orders to fight the Magic Knights for Lucius's victory. But then put this proclamation with what Morgen said back in chapter 368:

And also what he thinks to himself in chapter 376:

He talks about fighting and being the strongest on his own.

I also want to point to how he confronted his family about their work with devils. He came to the underground ritual chamber alone, and not even while wearing his uniform as a Grey Deer on top of that. Forbidden Magic was being practiced and Morgen could've (probably should've) brought along his squad to arrest his family and their followers. But he didn't. He faced his family's sins not as a Magic Knight but merely as Morgen Faust. In Morgen's eyes, it was his family's business and thus his personal responsibility as part of it to stop them.

So we have repeated instances of Morgen voicing thoughts and acting in ways where he sets himself up to be on his own. I can think of several factors for why Morgen might have this mindset. He was the black sheep of his family and overlooked by his parents so he didn't have their support. Nacht kept his distance too. His Light Magic also meant he was looked up to, believed to be strong like the first Wizard King, just for having the attribute he had. All of these together would feed into the belief that Morgen is separate from other, for better or worse. With that belief instilled, Morgen could then tell himself that he has to rely on his own strength, that others can rely on his power alone.

Yes, Morgen seeks partnership from Nacht and works alongside Yami but ultimately tells himself he has to do things by himself. And it's possible that Morgen wanted to be closer to Nacht because he thought that only his brother, his flesh and blood, could be depended on to lessen Morgen's burdens.

Morgen becomes a lot more tragic with all this in mind. He wasn't just a pure soul who died young. He wasn't just a good man lost to sacrifice. He was a lonely person who struggled between his desire for a bond with his brother and his belief that he had to stand alone. Worse yet, he keeps on ending up alone. Other members of the former Grey Deer like Yami and William get their own squads and become more associated with those groups. Morgen by himself as a legacy member of the Grey Deer. Ten years ago and in the present day, Morgen has no one with him in death while Nacht and Yami get to continue living and working as partners.

Like the words that chapter 376 has near it's end says, "The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow it casts." All of Morgen's good, the inspiration he brought and the hope he symbolizes for others, is so bright. But it makes the shadow of sorrow that might exist within Morgen all the more saddening to me.

This is just my own reading of Morgen so take what I've said with a grain of salt but... At least for me, Morgen has gained a whole new depth to his character thanks to these new chapters and how it made things from before clicking into place for me. I don't always like Tabata's handling of the story, but I do love what he's given me for me to draw the conclusions I have.

Well that's Morgen's finale. And now for my last statement on Nacht's part of the chapters.

Quick observation: to me, part of Nacht's horn set up from his four-way Unite, resembles Morgen's own. From Slotos and Plumede, Nacht gets horns that point outward and curve in a way that matches Lucifugus's horns.

You can best compare it here and even with Nacht partially obscured... I can see the similarity.

Moving on, or rather moving back to the line, "the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow it casts." It brings to mind that one quote "for the greater the love the greater the grief" by C.S. Lewis. It captures part of the core to Nacht's character. His love for Morgen was so deep that the grief of losing him transformed him as a person. Morgen's light of hope was so bright and it makes Nacht's shadow of despair dark.

But the true essence of who Nacht is comes from the last words in the chapter, his last words to Morgen.

"Goodbye, Morgen. I will shoulder this pain forever."

Nacht regretted his sin, punished himself for it, and atoned for it through killing Morgen a second time. This is his closure for the past. But even with that, Nacht cannot - will not - let go of his sin or the pain it's caused him. It's a part of him for the rest of his life. He will find it in himself to live and maybe even find happiness, but the love and happiness he got from having Morgen around will never be replaced or filled in. Morgen is lost forever and so Nacht will mourn forever.

Part of me is sad to know that Nacht has committed himself to such feelings. But a greater part of me understands that it's a part of his character and loves him for it. He holds on, to his emotions or the people he cares for, so fiercely to the point of it hurting him. It's probably not a healthy mindset to have but Nacht's fictional so we can let it slide. I see it as tragic but also admirable.

To me, this is the real end of Nacht's arc. First in Spade, he had to learn that despite his faults, there were people who cared for him enough to save him. And now on Judgment Day, Nacht faces his sin head on and gives it a resolution, thus accepting all he's done and all of himself where he once projected his self-loathing onto others.

I'm left with bittersweet feelings from these chapters. There was beautiful art. I developed a deeper appreciation for characters who aren't my favorite characters. The characters that I do adore above all the rest got a spotlight on them. Morgen and Nacht both showed off incredible feats of power and their story got an ending. All good things. But I've also come to see a much sadder side to Morgen beyond being a black sheep. And Nacht's statement of eternal pain brings me to actual tears just thinking of it. I'm also upset that unlike Acier, Morgen isn't shown giving a goodbye to his family but I can still hope that chapter 377 spares page time for that. But even with these sad notes, I'm happy because I can better appreciate the Fausts with what I've been shown.

I love these chapters and the stories they tell/finish. I can't wait for the physical volume containing the chapters so I can return to them over and over again.

I hope that this post wasn't boring or too repetitive. I hope it made sense. I had to bounce around in the chapters' details and even called back to older chapters to get my points across. I just... had a lot to say. Several times while writing this, I ended up going back to add onto a topic I thought I'd finished (I'm looking at you Yami family and the Walpurgis Night spell).

I didn't have any plans for what I was going to say. I knew I was going to talk about how the Yami and Faust family dynamics closed out and the development of my perception of Morgen. But a lot of things just came to me as I wrote. And I think that worked for the best.

Thank you to whoever was able to power through this massively long post. Or even just read specific parts. Anyone looking at this post at all would mean something to me because while I mostly write this so my head and heart wouldn't explode from keeping it all inside, being heard by another is nice.

Thank you to any readers. Thank you, Tabata for writing Black Clover. Thank you, Yami and Ichika for your shared arc and contributions to this chapter. And thank you, Nacht and Morgen Faust for lighting my soul on fire.

#black clover #nacht faust #morgen faust #yami sukehiro #ichika yami #black clover manga #black clover spoilers #black clover meta #soda asides #long post #i wrote this post instead of doing things like sleeping and eating #two days in a row i woke up before the crack of dawn and my immediate move was to write this #not even the need for a good grade in college got this much writing and passion from me lol #also fair warning #i will likely end up writing an addendum/follow up for this

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siampie · 2 months ago

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Risk and Reward || Chapter 13: Fall Into Me

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After finding out about his secret identity, your relationship is getting deeper. Falling deeper in love with one another.

Warnings/tags: fluff, sickeningly sweet

A/N: Commentaries and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

Then you walked down those stairs

And I knew my heart wasn’t mine

On the day that I met you

My whole world came alive

The smell of his body wash floated towards him as you walked out of his bathroom. His senses honed in on you. Drying your hair with the towel, you were wearing his clothes, that you borrowed, smelling like him. His lips turned up as you came up behind him. Knowing that you were wearing his clothes and smelling exactly like him, stirred something warm deep in his chest.

Something only reserved for you.

Matt had been in love before. With Elektra. And he thought he could fall in love with Karen, even if he had been for a brief moment.

With Karen things had been slow. And new. And full of light. And secrets. It had only been one date. It felt nice for a moment. She only knew the best version of him, then. The one he wanted her to see. The one he needed her to see. The one version he knew Karen could love. But it wouldn’t have worked out between them. Too many secrets. Too many walls built from unspoken words and unshared truths. And in the end, it kept them apart.

In the end, Matt had chosen Elektra.

Elektra Natchios.

“I do know that I’m free with you. Like with no one else,” Matt said, breathless. Unmasked.

“You hide from yourself,” she shook her head. “You don’t let anyone in.”

“You. I let you in.”

And he had. She was his first love. They were madly in love with one another. Passion ruled them when they were together. Passion and their own darknesses. She had accepted the Devil easily because of her own demons. And whereas Matt was struggling with his own morality, Elektra embraced her demons fully and easily. Their love was toxic and twisted. But it was all worth it. He had loved her more than anything. And until the very end, he had tried to save her. And failed. Twice. And almost lost his own life.

It was a miracle, or rather a curse as he had thought at the time, that he was still alive. A joke played on him by God. Still, he survived. He made it through and came back to life.

After Midland Circle—after his return to life, he had entertained the thought of trying again with Karen. There were no more secrets, no more lies between them. They knew each other like they never had before. He still loved Karen. She was his best friend and partner. But after everything, although no more secrets stood between them, they remained friends. Not willing to revisit their brief infatuation. Because that was all it was. Infatuation. They found they were better friends than lovers.

From those two failed relationships, Matt has learned his lessons. He couldn’t be just one version of himself. He couldn’t let the lies and the secrets build walls between the two of you.

“I don’t want better. I just want you.”

Your words had rung true. A soothing balm to his wounded soul.

You jumped up to sit on the counter. The towel was draped over your shoulders. The smell of his bodywash stronger now, “Whatcha you cooking?”

“Breakfast,” Matt’s lips quirked up slightly.

“I can see that,” you rolled your eyes. Your stomach gave a low rumble. “But what exactly?”

“Scrambled eggs, bacon and some toast. How does that sound?”

“Delicious,” he heard your smile in your voice. It sounded beautiful, “I’m starving.”

Matt scoffed, “yeah, I can hear your stomach from here.” He turned around after switching the stove off.

“And whose fault is that?” You shot back as he moved towards you.

His hands ran along your naked thighs, “didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

“Well,” your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I was too busy enjoying myself.”

“Yeah, I think the whole neighborhood heard you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his fingers grazed the skin under the hem of your (his) boxers.

You burst out laughing, “let’s hope you don’t get any complaints from the neighbors.”

Matt pressed his lips against yours. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved his hands under your (his) shirt, running along the curve of your back. Your skin soft against his calloused hands. Heating up under his touch, the scent of your arousal rose in the air. Mixing up with the lingering scent of last night activities. His tongue slid in your mouth, tasting his minty toothpaste. He swallowed the moan you let out as his thumb brushed against your hardened nipple. A smile graced his lips at the sound.

A low rumble from your stomach interrupted you both.

“Let’s put some food in your stomach before we take this any further, yeah?” Matt laughed; his eyes focused on your chin.

“Yeah,” you nodded, huffing out a laugh of your own.

“Come on,” he helped you down, patting your butt as you moved to grab the mugs from his cabinet.

You placed the mugs on the table, pouring coffee for both of you while Matthew plated your breakfast. In the streets below, the city was bursting with life, cars honking, people heckling, police sirens. And there you were, moving around his kitchen, in a comfortable domesticity. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips when he sat down across from you.

You fitted perfectly into his life.

“What?” You asked him before taking a bite of your eggs.

He shook his head, “nothing. I’m—I’m just glad you came last night.”

Your lips lifted at the corner, “I’m glad I did too—several times.”

Matt burst out laughing. One of those belly laughs that made you giggle along with him. You loved hearing his laugh, and seeing the giant grin that came with it. You loved seeing the crinkle around his eyes when he did, how it lit up his face. He looked younger. He looked happy.

He was happy.

“I’m also glad I came last night.” You said again, something in your tone made the smile on his face drop slightly. “I’m still—wrapping my mind around it,” you took a hold of your coffee mug, the heat of the dark liquid warming up your hands. “But—I want all of it. I want all of you.”

Your soft words sounded like an oath. An oath, he knew you would keep. His hand reached out for yours, interlacing his fingers with yours. His eyes, warm and soft, unfocused, falling somewhere along your collarbone. While your heart under your ribcage tried to escape its cage. His lips turned up at the corner as his thumb brushed against your knuckles, he enjoyed the way you responded to his touch. To his words. He would never tire of this, he knew it. He loved how a simple brush of his fingers had your breath hitched in your throat. How a simple smile from him made you grinned bright and wide. The most beautiful smile he’s ever heard.

Matthew Murdock, the lawyer, the vigilante, had felt the pull of you since the very first time he heard the steady pitter-patter of your heart across the bar. It had become his favorite song. He could tell it was yours as soon as you stepped into a room. It skipped a beat when your eyes landed on him, and he could sense the smile that split your face. The song of your heart was accompanied by your familiar fragrance. The very one he couldn’t get enough of. Especially now that it was perfectly blended with his.

“I want all of you.”

Matt believed God had place you in his life that night. His salvation. The solution to his inner struggles. Near you, the world grew quieter, less hectic. You were his haven. His peace. His shelter away from the chaos of Hell’s Kitchen.

You have touched his heart in ways other had not. And he knew your imprint would stay there forever. That he would carry it with him forever.

“You know—” you started, pulling him out of his thoughts and putting down your fork. “Since we’re revealing secrets, I have to tell you—“ he waited patiently, his heart speeding up in anticipation. “you—are my longest relationship. Ever. My first real boyfriend.”

He let out a low laugh, “I found that hard to believe.”

“Well, I did have—previous relationships but—they were really—flings. And they didn’t last long. And with you—things are—different.” Your heart sounded as though it tried to escape your ribcage. Your ears heated up as the blood rushed to them.

As he had dreamt of doing many times before, he reached to sooth away the heat of your ears. “Different, how?”

“Better,” you leaned into his touch, “I think—you’re—it for me.” A slow grin made its way onto his face. “I mean—I don’t—what I’m trying to say is—” you let out a shaky breath. “I—I—I don’t want this with anyone else.”

“Good,” he let go of your ear before wrapping his arms around you. “Cause I don’t want this with anyone else, either.”

He leaned in pressing his lips against yours, pulling you out of your chair, you let out a small shriek that he swallowed in a heated kiss. He pulled you tight against him, his arms circled your back in a tight embrace. With no intention of letting go of you. Never.

“So, everything’s fine between you and Matt?” Amelia asked you while you stared down at the two label makers in your hands.

“Yes, for the hundredth time, everything is fine between us,” you answered without looking up. “Which one looks better?” You showed her the two products.

“The handheld one,” Amelia pointed to the one in your left hand. “At least, there’s letters on this one. The other one might be too hard for you to figure out.”

“But it looks pretty,” you whined.

“Maybe, but unpractical for you.”

You let out a deep sigh, “you’re making a lot of sense and I don’t like it.” You put down the colorful one and kept the handheld braille label maker.

“It’s a curse,” Amelia shrugged. “Are you really sure that everything—?”

“Girl, if you ask me one more time, I’m gonna punch you in the titties,” you threatened her.

She cupped both of her boobs, gasping, “you wouldn’t?”

“Oh, I would,” you assured her. “Everything is fine between Matt and me. We talked it over and solved it. Everything’s good. So, stop asking.”

“You’re not even going to tell me why you two were fighting in the first place?”

“No. I don’t need to.”

“Oh, come on. Give me something.”

“Amelia, whatever’s going on between Matt and me—stays between Matt and me, okay?” You turned to face her again, “if I tell you what we were fighting about, you’re only going to get one side of the story. My side of the story. And you’ll side with me. But you don’t know Matt like I do. I don’t want you to build up resentment towards him on my behalf. I want you to love Matt for Matt. I don’t want you to hate him for me.”

“Fair enough,” she laced her arm with yours as you made your way to the checkout lines. “I’m kinda proud of you.”

“You are? What for?”

“Setting up boundaries, protecting your man,” Amelia listed off, “I love this for you. And for Matt.” She squeezed your arm affectionately, “have you said the words, yet?”

“What words?”

“You know—I love you?”

You cleared your throat, your heartbeat speeding up immediately, “I want to but—I feel like it might be too soon.”

“It’s never too soon. If you are with the right person—which I think you are—he’s going to say it back.” She smiled down at you. “He won’t run away.”

You let out a deep sigh, “I guess I need a little more time.”

The words always seemed to be stuck in your throat. Every time you had wanted to say them, it felt like this huge step you were about to take. It felt as though the words would change your relationship forever. And you weren’t ready for this.

Not yet.

After spending the whole afternoon labelling the different items in your kitchen, you put the label maker in your junk drawer. Someone knocked on your door, stopping you from putting away your spice jars. Your socked feet padded on the hardwood floor as you made your way to the door. A grinning Matt stood on the other side.

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted you softly, his hands gripping your hips. He pecked your lips.

“Hey, baby,” your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “How was your day?” You asked him, pulling him inside your apartment.

“Busy,” he answered, you closed the door behind him as he moved towards your bedroom, putting down his duffel bag by the door. “We still need to figure out a few details on the case but we’re getting there.”

You walked back to the kitchen, and proceeded to put away the spice jars. “Does this mean it’s almost over? Or there’s still a long way to go?”

He huffed out a laugh, “there’s still a long way to go. Those court cases last for months. And more often than not it ends up on a settlement.”

“And what about the underground part of things?”

He leaned over the kitchen counter, grabbing one of the spice jars in his hands. He let out a long sigh, “well, on this front, things are getting rather complicated.”

“Complicated how? Aren’t the two connected somehow?”

“They are but proving it—is—harder than I thought it would be,” Matt’s head tilted slightly, his thumb running on the braille label, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

He pushed off of the counter and walked up to you, you gulped down your saliva. Nervous. He took one the jars, still in your hands, from you. “Is that—?”

“Nutmeg, yeah,” you replied quickly.

He huffed out a shaky laugh, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Shaking his head, he took your hand gently, and guided your fingers over the label.

You took in a shaky breath, nervous. Blood rushed to your cheeks and to your ears, “see, Amelia and I went out together to buy a label maker. A braille one. I figured that since you’re spending a lot of time in my apartment, I might as well make the place comfortable for you. Because I do want you to feel comfortable, you know,” you finished with a shrug.

“Yeah?” A wide grin split his face in two.

“Yeah,” you let out with a smile of your own. “You like it?”

He put down the jars and pulled you into him, your body molding into his immediately. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, his lips hovering above your own. His sightless eyes staring down at you. Full of something warm. Filled with fondness. Beautiful.

Your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Deep in his chest, right where his heart was, something warm, akin to love stirred up. He didn’t need you to say the words to know how you truly felt about him.

Didn’t need words to know how he truly felt about you.

His lips pecked yours, “very much,” another kiss, “I like it a lot.”

You pulled away a little, biting down on your bottom lip, “are you sure it’s okay for you to spend the night? We could always stay at your place. It’s not too late for that.”

“I’m sure,” he assured you. “I want to make up for lost time,” he brushed your hair away from your face. “And I love staying at your place. It smells like you.”

Your lips turned up in a bright smile, “what do I smell like?”

Matthew leaned into you, burying his nose in your neck, he inhaled deeply, “divine.” He murmured against your neck, the brush of his lips against your neck sending shivers down your spine. Desire shot down your core. Soon, his lips pressed intently against your neck, “delicious.” Your hands run along the curve of his back. His lips travelled up to your jaw before finishing their course on your mouth. Tasting the sweet nectar of your soft lips.

Words weren’t enough to describe how much you meant to each other. How deep your love for each other truly ran.

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#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader

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gamerbot-22 · 3 months ago

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🎯White Noise🐉

TW/CW: Budding BootHeng <3, only one bed trope, Boothill’s non-swearing, Transcribed Cowboy Accent, Dan Heng has some dragon habits, Dan Heng has some lingering trauma from his time pre-Astral Express, Boothill's nostalgic for home, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 3,709

A/N: Hehehe, it’s gift fic time! This is for @theniastarfell, for correctly guessing the final subject of my Daily HSR Ficlet series! We decided to go with two of The Bestest Boys for the fic’s subjects :3c Real fast, I do want to thank them again for following along with the series so closely, it made me so happy as a writer to see their commentary <3 Also what do we think of the combined format? I think it’s cute :3 and how lucky am I that there’s some canon GIFs of these lads together? (Also don’t. Ask me what the hanzi says cause I don’t know for sure.)

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here!

The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

Is it weird to be impressed with how well someone adapts to laying low?

The Nameless are basically ambassadors across the galaxy, wandering mediators that make a habit of stopping to help whenever they’re needed, driven by the altruistic spirit of the Trailblaze. Regardless of disposition, Nameless are, for lack of a better term, available.

That availability didn’t surprise Boothill when Dan Heng volunteered to tag along as backup when it came time to follow up on a lead. Heck, upon accepting the Ranger thought that availability might make this little mission more difficult, seeing as Nameless weren’t exactly in the habit of laying low. But Dan Heng took to ducking into alleys and dodging patrolling IPC soldiers like he was born to do it, slipping from shadow to shadow before Boothill could even give him the order to. It was impressive...

...If a little concerning all at the same time.

What was doubly concerning was just how quiet Dan Heng got when the two of them were sneaking around. Boothill had kind of been looking forward to picking the Nameless' brain, but any attempt at conversation seemingly went unnoticed. It was like Dan Heng was on another planet as the two wove through the tall, narrow alleys of this backwater planet.

He knows he might regret it, but that night, with the two tucked up in a tiny little motel (recon had been dragging all day so unfortunately calling it a night was a necessity) Boothill figured he'd say something.

"Yer pretty sneaky," the Ranger says, failing to be so himself. "Y' ever notice that?"

Dan Heng just hums politely in acknowledgement, hovering idly by the motel window. He's too busy sneaking peeks through the musty curtains to think of anything appropriate to say in turn. The light shining in from the post outside makes his grey eyes look almost green from this angle.

Boothill, on the other hand, is already getting settled into bed, not bothering to get undressed in any sense. Couldn't feel his feet in his boots anyways, so how could he be uncomfortable resting in them? Sleep was barely a suggestion most nights anyways, so if anything this was just a show for company.

He lays there, watching his companion to see if he'll move or say anything more. The best he gets is a stifled yawn that brings the Nameless' knuckles to his mouth and makes his grey-green eyes flicker.

"You just gonna stand there all night?" Boothill asks. He only gets more settled in, crossing one ankle over the other as his head sinks lower into the admittedly plush pillows beneath him. "Can't imagine yer back is feelin' all that great considerin' all the sneakin' around we've been doin' all day."

Dan Heng turns his head just enough to catch the Galaxy Ranger out of his peripheral. "I was under the assumption I would be taking first watch."

He probably shouldn't be so surprised when Boothill huffs at him, his face cracking into a big -- if lopsided -- smile. "Pssh! You kiddin'? And just who 'zactly are you watchin' for?"

That gets Dan Heng to pull away from the window, although his hand -- the one that's not still holding Cloudpiercer -- lingers on the thin curtain. His brows are furrowed in confusion, but it doesn't make Boothill want to take him any more seriously.

"...I thought the IPC was--"

Another huff cuts the Nameless off. "The IPC don' send their goons to sleep in shirt-holes like this'un. Even they ain't that cruel." Boothill shuffles lower on the mattress, sending the frame into a creaking fit before he gets an angle he likes for his head. He pulls the brim of his hat down over his eyes before continuing. "'Sides, if anybody should be doin' lookout, it should be me, and I honestly can't be forked, so quit starin' at streetlights and come lie down 'fore I gotta explain to yer Momma why you're comin' back to yer train with blind spots."

Honestly that just prompts more questions in Dan Heng, and before he can even think to stop it, one starts to work its way out.

"You aren't scared that--"

"What, that they'll come bustin' in through th' door or th' window or even the muddlefudgin' ceilin'?" Boothill takes his gun from the holster on his hip and uses the shining barrel of it to push his hat back up. Dan Heng can see the crosshairs in his eyes, always primed and ready for a target, should one cross his vision.

The Nameless takes a quiet step closer, making no sound to speak of until he opens his mouth again. "I just want to be careful." He swears he can feel eyes on him right now, coming straight through the curtains from outside. He wasn't even all that scared of the specifics until the Galaxy Ranger rattled them off like trivia, like each scenario is just a silly hypothetical that holds no weight, and that the exile should feel silly for the rush of needle-sharp anxiety running down his spine to the tail he had to hide for his own safety. He would be insulted if the feeling wasn't so over powering in that moment.

The clatter of Boothill's gun landing on the dusty side table snaps Dan Heng back to himself. "Listen, if anybody makes the dumb-asteroid mistake of tryin' to get the drop on us while we're sleepin', then we'll handle it. Ain't nothin' new for me, and if I had to make an educated guess, it ain't nothin' new for you neither."

“How did you—“

"Kinda obvious all things considered--"

"Will you please stop cutting me off?" Dan Heng thumps Cloudpiercer against the floor, firmly but still somewhat gently emphasizing his point. He's being reminded of just how firm he needs to be with Boothill, even if the latter is more in his element.

The Galaxy Ranger grins, his teeth too sharp for his expression to be properly sheepish. It's been a while since he's traveled with somebody who wasn't shaking in their boots the whole time they were together. Then again, it isn't like Dan Heng is a hostage being dragged along as collateral. He's his own man, here of his own volition, despite the fact that something about all this was clearly eating him up.

"Look, I get it." Boothill pushes himself up to sit, letting one leg swing off the side of the mattress while the other bends closer to him. "Yer far from home and yer scared, that's... fine." He presses his thumb to his chest, propping his other hand on his knee as he leans in closer. "Just b'tween you and me, I been dealin' with the IPC for a long fudgin' time and I still get all anxious 'never I see 'em."

He rocks back to sit up straight, swinging his other leg up from off the ground to sit criss-cross on top of the blankets. He doesn't seem to notice any of the dirt he's kicking up onto the blankets as he continues on. "But you take it from me, Mr. Nameless: Just sittin' there feelin' scared ain't gonna keep 'em away from us. We're already lyin' real low, and if they find us tonight, then we can handle it. And if they don't, I think Future Dan Heng will be a lot happier if he spends the night gettin' some sleep instead of starin' out the window lookin' for boogeymen."

He's trying his best to be compassionate, but it's been more than a hot minute since he's tried. Boothill's pretty sure he sounds more threatening than gentle with his voice all low like this, but Dan Heng doesn't shy away. Instead, the Nameless' shoulders loosen, even just a tiny bit, because as much as his nerves hate to admit it, Boothill is right. They've been moving all day, and the lack of new information to chase, plus having to cope with a new environment that's trudged up old habits has been more than a little exhausting. For both of them.

He has his spear. Boothill has his gun. They both know how to fight and take care of themselves should it come down to it. Dan Heng should get some sleep while he can.

The Nameless sighs and some more of the lingering fear leaves him. He turns to prop Cloudpiercer up against the corner between the bed and the window, the edge of the spear's blade slotting nicely into place. It's not exactly in arm's reach, but it's close enough to get up and grab should something happen.

The way he moves so quietly just makes Boothill want to talk more, even if it was probably better to just let the victory lie. Might as well make use of the company while he has it. "And uh... look. I know I ain't exactly the best behaved muddlefudger in the cosmos, but I am a gentleman by some definition of the word. If'n you want me to let you have the bed all t' yerself, I can just--"

"No." It comes out faster than Dan Heng would've liked. He chalks it up to nerves and decides not to dwell on the surprised look on Boothill's face. "I mean... We've both been moving all day. I don't see why I should be able to lie down instead of you."

Another smile, lopsided under Boothill's pinched eyebrows. "Well... Firstly, I ain't even really a sleepin' type anymore. I was just kinda layin' down cause I didn't wanna freak you out or nothin'."

"Still. Even if you can't sleep, rest is... good." It's something that's been drilled into Dan Heng's head since he boarded the Astral Express. Literally everyone on board has said some variation of it to him so many times, that if Dan Heng had a credit for each, he would be able to buy an entirely separate Astral Express to wander around at night all on his own.

Boothill shrugs. "Fair 'nough. Are you sure, though? 'Cuz I can just... sit somewhere else while you lie down."

"You were laying down first." Even when he's being stubborn Dan Heng sounds so forkin' polite.

The Ranger shrugs and lays back against the pillows again, taking up the position he had before with his crossed ankles and his hands resting on his metal stomach. "Fine, then. Come make yerself comfortable, then."

Apparently another thing Boothill lost when he augmented his body was his sense of size. He was taking up almost the entire mattress, save for a little sliver of it on his right side near the wall. Dan Heng might be able to settle into that spot... yes, as long as he's careful...

He kneels on the edge of the bed first, wincing as the frame creaks and his shoes hit the ground. Any sound right now feels ten times louder than it should, undoing the Ranger's assurances faster than Dan Heng can realize.

"Y' alright?" Boothill asks from under the brim of his hat. Was Dan Heng just that obvious?

"Fine," he lies, then moves to settle in on his shoulder. He hates sleeping on his side -- it makes him feel restricted to have all his weight focused on an edge like that -- but he can make do. He's been making do all day. Even if the bed creaking with every micro-adjustment he makes starts to grate on his already frayed nerves.

"Are y' sure yer alright?" The Ranger is more pointed now as he takes his hat fully off and tosses it on top of the lampshade on the bedside table. "All that dadgum creakin's gonna drive me nuts--"

He turns his head to look at Dan Heng and the arrowhead point of his tone rounds off. The Nameless has his eyes shut tight, his hands tucked up against his chest, and his knees pressed together like tectonic plates just a second away from making a mountain. Alright. He was gonna have to get good at being gentle real fast.

"Hey." Boothill nudges him with his shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

"I am awake."

"Alright, then quit... layin' all stiff like that. I told ya 'get comfortable,' didn' I?" He nudges Dan Heng again, trying to coax him into at least opening his eyes. "Y'know-- I can't feel nothin' from the neck down, yer more 'n welcome to settle in like I ain't here."

Dan Heng opens one eye just a little, and Boothill can see a little sliver of teal green beneath his dark lashes. The Ranger could've sworn his eyes were grey last he checked, save for the help of the lights outside.

Now, ain't that pretty...

"You aren't exactly a pillow, Boothill," the Vidyadhara nearly grumbles. He's tired, he's anxious, and he's already feeling his muscles getting stiff.

"Hey now, don't get all sassy on me." He lifts a hand from his stomach to offer it to Dan Heng, taking extra care to be gentle with him. "Believe it 'r not, I've been told I'm actually kinda cozy if you can figure out a place to lay yer head. All the motors n' circuits keep the ol' shell here mighty toasty, too." Boothill holds his hand a little closer. "C'mon. If y'don't like it, I'll just get up and you can have the whole bed to y'rself. I can stand sittin' on the floor if it means you ain't givin' yourself scoliosis tryna fit."

"That's not how--" Dan Heng cuts himself off with a sigh and shuts his eye again. "And you're sure it's alright?"

"Like I said b'fore, Dan Heng. I can't feel nothin' from the neck down, and even if I did, I know how to keep my hands to m'self."

The Nameless slips his hand into the Ranger's and carefully shifts to laying across his companion's torso. Sure enough, Boothill does actually feel kinda warm, and while he doesn't have as much give to his body, the plates that make up his body's casing are smooth, and the poncho he's got wrapped around his shoulders is soft against Dan Heng's cheek.

"There. How's that for ya?"

Dan Heng isn't quite sure what to do with his hands. Wrapping them around Boothill feels much too intimate, and folding them under his own head feels a bit too presumptuous. Luckily, he's still got one hand in Boothill's, and the Ranger takes it upon himself to guide Dan Heng into resting them in the folds of his poncho.

"That'll keep 'em nice and warm through the night," he mutters, flashing Dan Heng a little smile. It looks almost tender despite his fangs.

Dan Heng wonders if his own fangs can be that distracting. "Thank you."

"Mmhm." Now Boothill is the one who's not sure what to do with his hands. Wrapping them around Dan Heng feels much too intimate... He decides to just fold them back behind his head again, cradling the curve of his skull through his long white hair. Yeah. Yeah, that works. "Now get some sleep. We'll give it 'nother try in the mornin'."

The Nameless hums an acknowledgement and lowers his head, resting his cheek against the broad metal of Boothill's chest with just a single fold of poncho to serve as a proper pillow. It's not bad, honestly, and it smells better than Dan Heng was expecting.

One of the joys of not sweating anymore, perhaps...? That just makes his mind wander, though. Boothill mentioned being warm because of motors, but what was it that kept him from overheating? Did he overheat at all? Was there some vent somewhere that Dan Heng just hadn't noticed? He's starting to miss his Data Bank.

And then he hears it. Or, more accurately, he notices it for the first time now that he’s this close. A faint, steady whirring noise, coming from just beneath Dan Heng's ear -- from Boothill's chest? He pulls a hand from the old red poncho and pushes it aside to get a better listen, pressing the side of his head flat against the big, shining pectoral plate that seems to cover whatever that noise is coming from.

Of course, not being any kind of sleeper, let alone a heavy one, Boothill notices Dan Heng's prodding. He lifts his head and moves to free his hands. "Just what in heck're you--?"

"Is that a fan?"

The whirring suddenly gets louder, stronger, as Boothill stammers out, "Y-Yeah, what about it?"

Dan Heng swallows. He can't believe he's about to ask this. "Just, uh... what does it do?"

"What does it do?"

"Mmh."

"Uh..." Boothill has to actually think for a second. He'd been hoping that Dan Heng would just go right to sleep, not ask him about the mechanics of this blasted body of his. It isn't like he kept notes on all the ins and outs. "It does... what fans do. Keeps things cool. Why d'you wanna know?"

Dan Heng pulls a bit of a face, his expression and the one hand he still has in the poncho tightening. "When... When I can't sleep back on the Astral Express, I read articles in the data bank. There's a setting where you can push a button and it'll pull up a random one."

"Uh-huh." It's starting to fall into place. "And these are like bedtime stories t'ya?"

"...Basically." It's embarrassing when he puts it like that, but he's not exactly wrong.

Boothill sighs out of habit, and lets his head fall back against the pillows. "Well... I ain't no mechanic -- I see somebody else f'r that -- but I can tell you 'bout somethin' else."

Dan Heng turns his face the other way. He's looking at the door now, all rickety but hopefully thick enough for no one else to come barging in. "I'd like that."

He mulls it over a second, staring up at the vacant ceiling. He supposes he could rattle off about guns a while, talk about the special blaster that's built into his arm or his pistol. Ah, but all that's boring. Pistols and blasters aren't all that special, really. You point and pull the trigger, and a bullet goes flying out of the chamber and if you're good -- or lucky -- you kill whatever you're aiming at. That won't make it any better for Dan Heng anyways. He needs something calming. Aeons, did he even have any of those anymore...?

"...Y'ever been in a wheat field b'fore?" He hears a rustling, and when he looks down he sees Dan Heng shaking his head. Regardless of if that was a nod or a shake "no," Boothill was going to say the next part anyway. "Where I come from, there used to be miles and miles of wheat fields. Some alfalfa for the livestock, and these darn near picturesque rollin' hills all along the horizon. I tell ya, standin' in the middle of one of those fields 's like watchin' rivers of gold when the wind blew. Ain't nothin' I ever seen since then that's ever made me feel richer."

Dan Heng shuts his eyes, imagining that the fan beneath his ear was the sound of the wind blowing over the fields Boothill's planting in his mind. He can nearly feel the sunshine on his face now, warming him from the outside in. What he would've given to grow up in a place like that...

"'Nd at night, you could just lay right down in it. Like tuckin' yerself up in Mother Nature herself's bed. Didn't need no pillows 'r blankets 'r nothin'. 'Course our cows were so sweet you could just prop yerself up against on of 'em. If you were willin' to risk wakin' up with a cowlick, that is." He chuckles, and softens the sound when he notices how it makes his chest shake even now.

Dan Heng is laying rather still now, his fingers curled gently over Boothill's chest and his face all calm and quiet. There wasn't anything to pinch his eyebrows now, but the Ranger wasn't done just yet.

"You could see th' stars real bright at night, too, shinin' like diamonds all the way out into th' distance." He dares to lay an arm around the Nameless' back, drawing him closer to where his heart used to be. It would give him a better shot at hearing the fan in its place. "I used to make up all sortsa stories about them stars. 'Bout all the shapes I could draw with 'em. I had someone teach me how t'do that."

Dan Heng only curls up closer, his legs dragging up to rest across Boothill's knees. The Ranger's voice is actually gentle now, low and soothing like the distant sound of thunder.

"Never thought I'd actually get to see 'em up close..." His voice fades with the memory. If he thinks about it for much longer... He doesn't want to think about it much longer. Boothill shakes his head just to make sure it's all back in place -- in the attic of his head where he doesn't have to look at it until the next time he decides to go wandering down that heartbroken trail.

He's about to ask if Dan Heng's asleep yet when he... gets a feeling. An actual feeling, around the base of his neck where his old skin meets metal. It nearly knocks the wind out of him until he catches the accompanying sound. There's a deep, rolling sound that's ever so slightly rattling his body, and after some listening the Ranger pinpoints exactly where it's coming from.

It's Dan Heng. He doesn't show it in his face or his hands or in any part of him, but the sound is coming from him. Is he just snoring? It sounds more like purring.

Either way, knowing that it's just Dan Heng allows Boothill another habitual sigh of relief. He's glad to know that the Nameless is all settled, and it actually felt kind of nice to talk about home. It'd been a while.

The Ranger carefully takes his hat back from the lampshade and sets it over his face, giving Dan Heng one last peek from under the brim before settling into the familiar darkness. "Sweet dreams, Dan Heng. Say 'hi' t' home f'r me."

#Rosie Writes #theniastarfell #Boothill #Dan Heng #BootHeng #Honkai Star Rail #HSR #Honkai Star Rail Fluff #HSR Fluff #Honkai Star Rail Fanfic #HSR Fanfic #Gift Fic

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