#the second thing i think about a lot is the fact that we were not allowed to build our own fires or use anything sharp

[kasieli]

DamiRae week 2025 | Day one: family matters/secret(*cough* uh….fake?) dating

Well, fiddlesticks. I wrote this whole thing thinking the prompt was FAKE dating and not SECRET dating, but alas…I was very, very wrong. (Do your research, Cass!!!!!!) On the bright side, this also fits family matters, so I’m saved!!!!! Oof a fanart and fanfic for this one, so much content! Anyways, without further ado, let’s start 2025 DamiRae week, shall we? ;)

***

Raven smoothed down her dress for the tenth time and checked her phone. The instructions were clear: "Meet him by the parking lot. Navy suit. Probably scowling."

She sighed, already regretting saying yes to this. One night of pretending to be somebody’s adoring girlfriend for cash—easy, right? No big deal. Smile, hold hands, maybe endure a few awkward questions from nosy relatives. She could handle this. Of course. Probably.

Her eyes scanned around, and then—there he was. Leaning against a lamppost, glowering at his phone like it had personally offended him.

Oh no.

Raven’s stomach dropped straight to her feet.

It was Damian Wayne.

She knew him instantly. Perfectly tousled hair. Impeccable posture. The same furrowed brow she remembered from endless study sessions at the library. He looked a little older now—a little broader, a little rougher around the edges—and somehow ten times worse for her mental stability.

She froze right in her spot.

I’m so fucked.

For one wild second, she considered turning around and pretending she never saw him.

But he glanced up, caught her staring, and she did the only thing she could think of. She smiled—way too wide—and waved.

His eyes widened. And she knew recognition hit him like a brick.

And just like that, Raven realized:

This night is going to be a complete disaster.

Her heels clicked traitorously loud against the asphalt as she crossed the parking lot, every step feeling like it echoed he knows, he knows, he knows.

Okay, just smile. Be normal. You’ve been normal before. Probably. Once.

She tried to ignore the fact that Damian was watching her approach now—straightening up even further, stuffing his phone into his pocket, and standing awkwardly like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to wave or hug her or just spontaneously combust.

Honestly? Same.

He’s still cute. Why is he still cute? That should be illegal.

And taller. Was he always this tall? Was I just shorter?

Focus, Raven.

She reached him and gave what she hoped was a breezy, natural smile, even though her heart was hammering loud enough she was pretty sure the whole damn parking lot could hear it.

"Hey," she said, forcing her voice to stay light. "You must be Damian."

She knew full well who he was.

Why didn’t she put two and two together? Her roommate had told her his name was Damian—and it wasn’t like she knew many Damians in the wild. Maybe it was because she was strapped for cash, or maybe that she secretly hoped it was this Damian—

No. Then why did the realization hit her like a truck?

Judging by the way his mouth opened, then closed again like a fish, he was just starting to figure it out too.

"Yeah," he said finally. "And... you're..."

He trailed off, staring at her like his brain had blue-screened.

God, why was this already a disaster?

Abort mission. Fake a sprained ankle. Claim amnesia.

Something.

Instead, Raven laughed—nervous and breathy—and stuck out her hand like they were meeting at a corporate retreat and not about to lie to a hundred strangers about being soulmates.

"I'm your fake date," she said, because someone had to keep this train from derailing completely. “Raven.”

"Nice to meet you."

I already know how infuriatingly incredible you smell, and how irritating you were in our Chemistry class, but yeah, sure…

“Nice to meet you, too.”

He cleared his throat, tore his eyes away, then held out his arm, and said, “shall we?”

Raven tucked her hand into the crook of Damian’s arm—because fake couple, appear natural, don’t be weird—and immediately regretted it when she realized just how solid he was under the jacket.

Oh, great. Perfect. Let’s make this harder, why don’t we?

They started walking toward the big stone building where fairy lights twined around the railings and the faint sound of music drifted out.

Damian leaned in slightly, voice low and fast. "Okay, so….quick crash course."

Raven nodded, hyper-aware of how close his mouth was to her ear. Focus. Focus.

"The groom is my brother—Richard. And the bride-to-be is Kori." He took a quick glance at her, as if gauging her reaction. "You'll be able to tell who they are just by looking at them."

White dress. Probably another insanely attractive man. Because I'm not stupid.

"My grandmother is the short one with the purple dress," he said. "She’ll cry when she sees us. Just go with it."

"Got it," Raven said, hoping she sounded more normal than she felt.

"Then there’s my dad—he’ll probably tell you a bunch of embarrassing stories about me. Ignore half of them.” He closed his eyes momentarily as his lips pressed into a thin line. “No, actually, ignore all of them."

Raven smiled, trying to mentally file that away, but her brain was already spinning uselessly because he smells so damn good.

Clean and warm and some kind of stupid cologne that made her want to lean in like an actual crazy person.

"And—uh—my aunt Samantha." Damian grimaced. "If she corners you, fake a bathroom emergency. She will ask about our future children. Plural."

Raven bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Children.

Right.

Future.

Focus, Raven.

"Cool, cool," she said, voice a little too high. "Bathroom emergencies. Future kids. Crying grandmother. Totally normal day."

He gave her a quick, sideways glance—the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting a smile—and damn it, why was that cute too?

They were almost at the steps now. Voices and laughter were getting louder. A big, happy, chaotic mess waiting to happen.

"Last thing," Damian said, hesitating just before they reached the door. "If anyone asks how we met…say coffee shop."

"Coffee shop. Classic." She gave him a thumbs-up, even though her heart was hammering like a jackrabbit.

He opened the door, holding it for her, and as she stepped inside into a whirl of music, flowers, and chattering strangers, Raven thought:

This is fine. Totally fine.

I am not going to lose my mind fake-dating my college crush at a family wedding.

Nope. Not at all.

The moment they crossed the threshold, it was like stepping into a hurricane. Warmth, chatter, the clink of glasses—and then a woman in a purple dress sprinted toward them with the speed of a much younger person.

"There she is!" the woman cried, flinging her arms wide. "Damian’s girlfriend!"

Raven barely had time to brace herself before she was engulfed in a perfumed, crushing hug.

"Uh—hi!" Raven squeaked, awkwardly patting the woman’s back.

Over the woman’s shoulder, she caught Damian’s face—a tight, panicked little smile that said ‘sorry, you're on your own.’

Fucking coward.

"My baby!" the woman sniffled, pulling back to dab her eyes dramatically. "We thought he'd be alone forever! You are absolutely gorgeous! Are you staying for the whole weekend? You have to stay!"

"Uh—yes—maybe—we’ll see?" Raven said, voice wobbling dangerously. Weekend? The venue was only an hour and a half out of the main city she lived in, did they have a hotel close by?

…Did Damian have a room of his own?

No, Raven. Don’t go there. Focus, goddamnit.

The woman—grandmother, Raven remembered in a flash of terror—grabbed Damian’s hand and their hands together and squeezed, beaming at them like they’d personally cured all her ailments.

Behind her, a whole platoon of relatives was gathering.

Aunts, uncles, cousins—god, so many fucking cousins.

Raven’s stomach dropped to somewhere around her ankles.

Someone was already snapping pictures.

Someone else shouted, "How did you two meet?"

"Coffee shop!" Raven blurted at the exact same time Damian said, "Bookstore!"

A tiny, horrible silence.

Raven felt her soul leave her body.

She shot Damian a glare that obviously read: are you fucking kidding me?!

Thankfully, Damian recovered fast, laughing with a sheepish shrug. "Coffee shop inside a bookstore," he amended. "You know, like those cute ones where you pretend to read but you’re really just people-watching." She hated how effortless his recovery was, and how damned adorable that laugh was.

Focus.

"Ohhhhhh," the grandmother cooed, clutching her chest like they’d just acted out the final scene of a rom-com, which, to her credit, is exactly what it felt like.

Raven laughed, too—too loud, too fake—while mentally screaming.

This is fine. This is fine. I’m not dying inside. I’m not about to faint. Everything. Is. Fine.

Damian’s hand brushed hers, grounding, steady, and she realized he was squeezing gently, like he knew she was two seconds from a full systems shutdown.

She risked a glance up at him.

He was watching her with something almost...soft in his expression.

Oh, no, she thought, as her heart gave a traitorous little skip. I’m so fucking fucked.

Before Raven could even blink, Damian’s grandmother was propelling them across the room toward a small, glittering stage where the soon-to-be newlyweds were surrounded by a mob of admirers.

"Come on, you have to meet Richard!" she said over her shoulder, practically dragging them by sheer willpower.

Raven clutched Damian’s hand like a lifeline—partly for appearances, partly because her legs suddenly felt like they’d been swapped out for uncooked spaghetti.

Up close, Richard looked like he belonged in a magazine catalog—neat hair, crisp tuxedo, easy grin. He spotted Damian immediately and grinned wider, his teeth flashing in a jaw-dropping way that made Raven realize why Damian’s smile had the same effect.

Fucking incredible genetics.

"Damian, you made it!" Richard pulled him into a quick, back-pounding hug. Then his eyes shifted to Raven—and sharpened.

"And you are?" Richard asked, eyebrows lifting just enough to be dangerous.

Raven opened her mouth—but Damian beat her to it, slinging an arm around her shoulders with a casualness that might have fooled everyone else, but she could feel the tension humming under his skin.

"This is Raven," Damian said, casually. "My girlfriend."

Richard’s grin turned downright devilish. "Girlfriend, huh?" He turned back to Damian. "Funny, you never mentioned having a girlfriend."

Raven laughed—a little too high-pitched—and waved awkwardly. "I’m a, uh...recent development."

"Very recent," Damian added quickly. Too quickly.

Richard’s fiancée, a stunning red-headed woman in a shimmering dress, gave a delighted little clap. "Oh, I love that! A whirlwind romance!"

"Exactly," Raven said, nodding so hard she nearly gave herself whiplash. "So whirlwind. There were...brooms involved."

Damian choked on a laugh next to her, coughing into his hand.

Richard just raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but mercifully—thankfully—decided to let it go.

"For what it's worth," Richard said, clapping Damian’s shoulder with mock gravity, "you definitely traded up, man. Way out of your league."

Raven blushed furiously, half from the compliment, half from the way Damian’s hand squeezed her shoulder a little tighter, like he agreed.

Sure, sure. Not like he’s a solid 11/10.

"Yeah," Damian said, voice weirdly soft. "I know."

Raven’s heart stuttered.

Focus, Raven. Focus. Stop falling for him again at a wedding in front of all his relatives. Jesus.

"Now," Richard’s fiancée announced, turning and practically clapping her hands, "we're about to kick off the first dance…and after that, we’re opening the floor!"

She beamed at them. "You two better be the first ones out there after us!"

Raven laughed weakly, praying for an earthquake, a sudden power outage, a freak lightning strike—literally anything to get her out of this.

But the music was already starting.

Raven stood with Damian just off to the side as the music changed, a soft, slow swell of something orchestral and sweet.

The crowd shifted—people making space, murmuring in excitement—as Richard and his fiancée moved onto the center of the dance floor.

Raven clasped her hands together tightly in front of her, feeling a thousand different things at once: relief that she wasn’t immediately being forced to dance, panic that it was coming soon, and an overwhelming, ridiculous fluttering in her chest from simply being next to Damian.

The bride and groom swayed together, laughing at something private, faces close, the rest of the room disappearing around them.

It was...stupidly beautiful.

Raven bit her lip, feeling that weird, achey warmth settle in her ribs.

Next to her, Damian shifted his weight awkwardly, and she could feel his discomfort radiating off him.

Still, when she glanced up at him, he was watching Richard and his fiancée with a strange, unreadable look on his face.

Soft. Almost...wistful.

Raven's chest tightened painfully.

God, he smells so good.

God, he looks so good.

God, I'm so fucked.

She looked away quickly, pretending to smooth the skirt of her dress, trying to shove the stupid, growing feeling down where it belonged: not here, not now.

The song played on, low and tender. A few other couples—the brave ones—were joining in around the edges, but no one dared intrude too closely.

When Raven risked another glance at Damian, he caught her looking.

Their eyes locked.

For half a second, it was like they were the only two people in the whole building. No fake dating. No families. No paycheck waiting at the end of the night.

Just...them. Standing too close. Breathing the same air.

Then Richard’s fiancée gave a little whoop and shouted, "Everyone, join us!"

The spell broke.

The crowd laughed and clapped, and suddenly Damian, bless his soul, was offering her his hand with the slightly crooked, lopsided smile that had made her an idiot back in college—and apparently still had the same effect now.

"Guess that’s our cue," he said.

Raven swallowed hard and took his hand.

I’m doomed, she thought.

I’m absolutely, one hundred percent doomed.

"You ready to make a fool of me?" he said, voice low enough only she could hear.

Raven let out a shaky breath and put her hand in his. Her fingers trembled a little against his palm. She hoped he didn’t notice.

"Always," she said, because it was easier to joke than admit her heart was about to punch its way out of her chest.

Raven let Damian lead her onto the dance floor, weaving through clusters of laughing couples. Her heart hammered so hard she could practically hear it above the soft tune of the ballad.

She tried to focus on the basics: left foot, right foot, don't trip, don't humiliate yourself—but then Damian’s hands found her waist, gentle and solid, and her brain promptly short-circuited.

He was warm. Steady. His touch was careful, almost hesitant, like he was terrified of holding her wrong.

Raven rested her hands on his shoulders—tried to, anyway.

Somewhere in the process, her fingers brushed the back of his neck, and Damian shivered.

Actually shivered.

Oh.

Oh no.

That’s bad.

…Or good?

They started swaying to the slow beat, small steps at first, neither of them really talking, both way too focused on pretending to be normal.

Raven stole a glance up at him.

He wasn’t looking at her—not directly—but his jaw was tight, and his brow was furrowed like he was working through some complicated math problem.

Probably the same one she was: how do you dance with someone you’re supposed to be faking it with when it feels...well…

The music wrapped around them, soft and sweet, and little by little, the space between them shrank.

Not enough for the relatives watching from the sidelines to comment.

But enough that Raven could feel the heat of Damian's chest against hers, the whisper of his breath near her temple.

Enough to make her dizzy.

He smells so fucking good, she thought miserably.

He’s so fucking close.

I’m going to do something so incredibly fucking stupid.

She cleared her throat—desperate to say something, anything—but when she opened her mouth, what came out was:

"You’re a better dancer than I thought you’d be."

Damian’s mouth twitched. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Take it or leave it," she said, forcing a grin.

He laughed quietly—the sound low and a little rough, like he wasn’t used to doing it—and her heart flipped over in her chest.

"I’ll take it," he said. His voice was different now. Softer. Warmer.

Their eyes met again, and this time neither of them looked away.

The music slowed further, the world narrowing until it was just the two of them. Hands tightening slightly. Breaths catching.

For a heartbeat—one, two, fuck, maybe three—it felt like he was about to lean in. Like maybe, just maybe, he wanted to kiss her.

Raven's heart soared and stuttered all at once. And then—

Damian’s eyes shifted beside her as his lips twitched into what could be described as a pained smile. “Richard is staring,” he whispered, leaning in closer so that his words were almost pressed into her ears. Almost. “Correction: my whole family is staring.”

His arms tightened around her waist as he began to trail one hand softly up her bare back, causing her nerves to explode with a sudden surge of electricity—of course I picked this backless dress, out of all dresses, out of all days.

Raven let out a forced giggle, helplessly trying to thwart the thought of how small and fragile and…safe she felt in his arms. “I mean…that’s good, right?”

He made a considering noise before flatly stating, “run your hands through my hair.”

Raven gawked, trying to mask her surprise and humiliation as if he hadn’t suggested she do something that could literally burn her from the inside out. “Excuse me?” she squealed into the safety of his neck.

He pulled away slightly, just enough that he could meet her gaze. The sparkling string lights above reflected in his eyes and she miserably recalled why she'd deliberately avoided making direct eye contact with him throughout college. Because he had these stunning emerald green eyes with flecks of gold that seemed to capture and magnify every speck of light in the room, transforming them into tiny constellations that threatened to pull her into their orbit. Because he had this sexy scar bisecting his left eyebrow, a thin silver line that told stories of some long-ago recklessness that only made him more intriguing. Because he had these lips that looked. So. Damn. Kissable. Full and slightly curved at the corners, as if perpetually on the verge of a knowing smirk that said he could read every forming inappropriate thought crossing her mind.

His voice dropped even lower, even gruffer—even sexier. “Trust me.”

She might have whimpered at his voice, his suggestion, the way he was looking at her—fuck, at this point she didn’t know, didn’t care—but regardless, she obeyed, lifting one hand to his temple. She cautiously ran her fingers through his hair, brushing a curl away from his ridiculously handsome face. His hair felt exactly as soft as she'd imagined, like satin beneath her touch, and she couldn't resist admiring how it shimmered in the gentle lighting.

His eyes fluttered closed and, maybe he groaned, maybe she was imagining it, but damn, if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

This was a dangerous game.

I’m so so so fucked.

Someone nearby wolf-whistled.

"Get a room!" someone else hollered.

They broke apart instantly, both laughing a little too loudly, stepping back like they’d been caught doing something illegal.

Raven’s face burned hot enough to start fires.

Damian raked a hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at her.

"We’re doing great," he muttered under his breath. "Really selling it." He cleared his throat. “That was great.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the nerves, the music, or the way Damian kept sneaking glances at her like he didn’t want to stop touching her, but right then, in the middle of the dance floor, she realized something terrifying:

What if I'm not faking it?

As if answering her silent prayer, the music faded out, replaced by the soft clink of silverware being unwrapped. Around them, couples broke apart and began drifting toward their assigned tables, where waitstaff in crisp white uniforms glided between chairs with trays of garden salads. The timing couldn't have been better—Raven needed space to breathe, to process whatever was happening between them. She followed Damian through the crowd, hyperaware of his hand resting lightly against the small of her back as he guided them toward their table, where the first course awaited.

Thank god. Time to regroup and calm the spinning, tumbling, tripping thoughts in her mind.

Raven collapsed into her chair at the long banquet table, trying not to visibly hyperventilate. Her heart was still doing Olympic-level gymnastics. Her body still tingled from the soft touch of his fingers against her waist.

Damian sat down next to her, way too casually for someone who had just made her liquid with one simple touch in front of a bunch of strangers.

He picked up a glass of water like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just held her like she actually meant something to him. Like he hadn’t practically melted her bones.

Raven stabbed her fork into her salad, missing the lettuce entirely and spearing the tablecloth.

Smooth.

She yanked it back quickly, cheeks burning, and focused very hard on pretending to read the menu card in front of her.

Meanwhile, Damian shifted beside her. His knee brushed hers under the table—a tiny touch, probably accidental—and Raven jumped like someone had tasered her.

"You okay?" Damian asked under his breath, leaning toward her.

She could feel his breath on her ear, could smell the faint, ridiculous hint of his aftershave again—clean, woodsy, warm.

Raven nodded, a jerky little bob. "Fine. Totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?"

Damian simply smiled—a small, secretive thing—and settled back into his seat.

As the waiters started bringing out the main course, Raven tried desperately to focus on anything else: the glittering fairy lights above them, the buzz of conversation, the random old uncle arguing about fantasy football three seats down.

But it was impossible.

Because all she could think about was:

1. How Damian's hand was resting on the table inches from hers, fingers loose and inviting.

2. How his pinky kept twitching like he maybe, possibly, wanted to touch her again.

3. How stupidly, unfairly handsome he looked right now—jacket unbuttoned, tie slightly loosened, hair a mess from her fingers spearing through it.

God.

She was so far past fucked it wasn’t even funny.

Halfway through the main course, Damian shifted again and—definitely very deliberately this time—bumped his knee against hers under the table. It didn’t help that the dress slit at her thigh, making it so his knee collided with her very bare, very warm skin.

Raven froze.

When she glanced sideways, he wasn’t even looking at her.

Just smirking a little to himself, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

The worst part?

She wanted to kick him.

And also maybe jump him right there between the bread baskets. Or climb him like a tree.

"Having fun yet?" Damian murmured, still not looking at her.

Raven stabbed another piece of lettuce with unnecessary violence.

"Having the time of my life," she said sweetly. "Thanks for asking."

Damian chuckled—low and soft—and finally, finally looked at her.

His eyes were bright and mischievous and something else too—something warmer, no something much hotter. Scalding, even.

Something that told her that maybe…maybe…he wasn’t faking anymore either.

Then, someone tapped Damian on the shoulder from behind, a strong hand in an ink-black suit. She turned around quickly and looked up…and up.

“Father,” Damian chuckled, pushing himself out of the seat and turning to face his impossibly even taller father. “This is Raven.” He held out a hand to help her up. “My girlfriend.”

Somehow the word held more conviction this time. Perhaps it was because it was his father he was lying to? Perhaps it was because of…

Focus, Raven.

“Nice to meet you, Raven,” Bruce smiled as he shook Raven’s hand with a sturdiest handshake she’d ever received. “I’m Bruce, but I’m sure you know that by now.”

She froze slightly and resisted the urge to throw a sideways glance at Damian for not telling her his father's name. She knew Samantha. Kori. Richard. But his father? That would have been helpful information. What was she supposed to do if she had bumped into him at the bar and he started talking to her? ‘Oh, hello random wealthy-looking man I've never formally met before.’ That would have been absolutely mortifying.

Instead, the only morsel of information she received was that he that might spill some embarrassing stories about the seemingly perfect man beside her. Internally, she snorted. She had to admit it, though, she’d pay good money to hear those stories.

Maybe her thought wasn’t as subtle as she intended, as Damian glanced at her with a challenging look in his eyes.

As if on cue, Bruce opened his mouth with a wide grin, and she felt Damian brace himself beside her, but then someone carrying a large camera cut beside them and took a picture, the click and flash stopping Bruce’s sentence even before it formed.

Damnit. She could have received all that useful information for…research. Or blackmail. Or both.

“Oh, get a picture of just these two lovebirds!” Bruce said, shooting Damian a wink. “It’s not every day this one is seen with a girlfriend.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Damian muttered under his breath as Bruce ushered them into an area that had a carved marble archway. The delicate stone vines seemed to dance with real roses, their petals catching the warm glow of dozens of dancing candles. Strands of twinkling fairy lights wove through the stonework like captured starlight, creating an ethereal curtain that transformed the simple archway into something out of a fairytale.

It was…magical.

Like straight out of a rom-com magical. What was going to happen now—a fake kiss?

She nearly scoffed at the thought, then, she heard it:

“Kiss for the camera!”

Raven’s stomach dropped straight to her toes. Fuck, I manifested that.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

It started small—probably one of Damian’s obnoxious cousins—but it spread like wildfire, picking up volume, until the whole room was chanting.

Raven froze, her eyes snapping to Damian’s.

He looked just as panicked as she felt, one hand still half-extended like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to run for the exit or drop to one knee.

Oh God.

This is happening.

This is actually happening.

Around them, the crowd was clapping, laughing, jeering like this was the halftime show at a football game and not, you know, her imminent emotional collapse.

Damian gave her a helpless look—the tiniest shrug, a ‘what can you do?’ grimace—and then stepped closer.

"Sorry," he murmured under his breath, voice barely audible over the noise.

Sorry for what, making me humiliate myself in front of your family by fainting right in this spot?

And then he cupped her face with both hands like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Raven’s brain completely shut off. Just—static. Pure, white-noise panic.

He was warm, and steady, and close, and when he dipped his head to kiss her, she froze. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribcage, her breath hitched in her throat. A part of her wanted to bolt—to turn and run as far as her legs would carry her—while another part remained rooted to the spot, terrified and yet inexplicably anticipating, desperately wanting, what was about to happen. Her whole body tingled with nervous energy, and she wondered, absurdly, if she remembered how to kiss at all. And then his lips met hers, and everything around her—the laughter, the clapping, the music—all of it blurred into nothing.

It wasn’t a fake kiss.

It wasn’t a peck-for-show.

It was soft, careful, real.

His lips brushed hers once, tentative—like he was asking permission—and when she didn’t immediately combust or flee the building, he kissed her again. Deeper this time. Slower.

Raven’s hands slid up without thinking, one curling into the front of his jacket, the other through the soft strands of his hair. Holding on.

Damian's thumbs stroked lightly across her cheeks, and he tilted his head just enough to slot their mouths together even more perfectly—and god, it was so much worse than she thought it would be.

Worse because it was perfect.

Because it felt good.

Too good.

His lips were impossibly warm against hers, demanding yet somehow gentle as they moved with practiced confidence. When his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, she opened for him with a small, desperate sound she'd deny making later. Heat bloomed low in her belly as he deepened the kiss, tasting faintly of champagne and something darker, something uniquely him. His fingers slid from her cheeks to tangle in her hair, angling her head back slightly as he continued his thorough, devastating exploration of her mouth. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to catch fire at once, and Raven knew with absolute certainty she was completely, utterly, without-a-doubt fucked.

Her heart was hammering, her body buzzing, and when she finally broke the kiss, it wasn’t because she wanted to.

It was because she had to—lungs burning, head spinning. She was literally about to explode.

A roar of cheers and whistles exploded around them, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. All of her senses—the smell of Damian, the taste of Damian, the feeling of his lips on hers—made her completely forget that they were sharing a kiss for just a fucking picture. In front of literally everyone.

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Did they almost have a full-blown make out session in front of his entire family?

Raven blinked, dazed, as Damian dropped his hands and took an abrupt step back, shoving his own through his hair again like he was physically restraining himself from grabbing her and doing the same damn thing all over again.

"Wow," someone said nearby. "Get married already!"

Raven laughed—breathless and wobbly—and ducked her head, pretending to be bashful so no one could see the absolute chaos happening on her face.

They just witnessed the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had in my entire fucking life.

Damian leaned closer, just barely, so only she could hear:

"See? That...that wasn’t too bad, was it?"

Raven risked a glance up at him.

His cheeks were pink. His eyes were shining. His lips were parted, and slightly tinted by her lip gloss on his perfect fucking lips.

And suddenly, she didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

She felt like kissing him again.

So bad it was almost a physical ache.

I’m so fucking screwed, she thought wildly for the hundredth time all evening.

When they made their way back to the main room, Raven barely made it through the main course without combusting.

Between Damian’s occasional knee taps, the stolen glances, and the lingering awareness of that kiss—that kiss—she felt like she was walking around with an electrified wire running under her skin.

So when Damian leaned in and said, "Come on. You look like you’re about to faint," and tugged gently on her wrist under the table—she didn’t even hesitate.

She followed him out of the crowded hall, through a side door and down a quiet garden path lit by fairy lights and paper lanterns. The night air was cooler, softer, and Raven gulped it in like a drowning woman. Moonlight dappled the cobblestones between the swaying shadows of cypress trees, and the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine wrapped around them like an invisible mist. In the distance, the muffled sounds of the party drifted out through leaded glass windows, but here, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the whisper of a fountain somewhere in the darkness, it felt like they'd stepped into another world entirely.

Damian slowed once they were away from the noise, shoving his hands into his pockets, glancing at her sideways.

"You okay?" he asked again, quieter this time.

Raven nodded quickly, wrapping her arms around herself for something to latch onto that wasn't the toned muscles of his chest. "I’m fine. Just—" She blew out a breath. "Your family’s a lot."

He chuckled. "Tell me about it."

They walked a few more steps in easy silence. The sounds of the party continued to fade behind them—laughter and clinking glasses dimming into the background—until it felt like they were the only two people left in the world.

Raven risked a sideways glance. In the soft light, Damian looked…different. Less guarded. More...real.

She was so busy trying not to stare at the cut of his jaw, the way one curl of his hair fell a little into his eyes, that she almost missed what he said next.

"You know," Damian said, voice casual but rough around the edges, "I recognized you."

Raven blinked. "What?"

"From college." He shrugged, kicking a loose stone along the path. "You were friends with Liam, right? You were at that Halloween party sophomore year. The one where the guy set the microwave on fire.” He chuckled, as if recalling a fond memory. “Plus, chemistry study group where you…you…you know…”

Raven's mouth fell open. "You remember that?"

Damian smiled a little—and it wasn’t the fake, charming smile he used for the family. It was smaller. Realer.

"Yeah," he said. "I remember you."

Raven's brain short-circuited all over again. In a full-blown, fight-or-flight panic, her mouth decided to override her survival instincts entirely and blurt out:

"I thought you were cute."

Dead. She was dead.

Absolutely fucked—and not in the way she wanted.

The words just exploded out of her, and there was no taking them back now.

Raven slapped a hand over her mouth like that would somehow rewind time. Damian turned to stare at her, eyebrows raised, clearly fighting a smile.

"You did?" he said, sounding waaaaaaay too pleased with himself.

Raven made a tiny strangled noise in the back of her throat that she'd definitely deny later, too. "I meant—I—like, objectively! Like, 'oh yeah, he's cute'—but like, in a normal way. In a 'everyone thinks that' way. Not a me way. Specifically. Not that I thought about it! Because I didn’t. Obviously. That would be—"

Damian stepped closer.

Raven’s words tripped over themselves and died.

He wasn’t smirking now. Not really. He was just...looking at her. Soft and a little wondering, like she was some kind of puzzle he was starting to understand.

"You still think so?" he asked quietly.

Raven opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then, very bravely, very stupidly, she nodded once.

Damian smiled—a real one this time, wide and a little crooked—and Raven felt her knees threaten to give out.

"Good," he said simply.

And for a second, it felt like maybe he was going to kiss her again. Right there under the fairy lights. For real this time. Maybe more than just a five-second kiss for show.

Raven’s heart soared and plummeted in the same breath.

The night breeze ruffled his dark hair, making it dance across his forehead in a way that seemed almost unfair. Raven couldn't help but stare, drinking in every detail of his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the slight quirk of his lips, the intensity in his eyes that made something deep in her chest constrict painfully. She looked at him like she was trying to memorize him, like she was afraid this moment might slip away if she dared to blink. And then, he simply just reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fingers barely grazing her cheek.

It was nothing, but somehow…it was everything.

Raven swayed toward him without meaning to, her breath caught somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. Much to her surprise, Damian caught her, both his hands resting on the sides of her arms, so warm, so steady, so…right. Guess she swayed more than she thought she had.

"Come on," Damian said, voice low and impossibly soft. "Before they come looking for us." And then he offered his hand, palm up, like it was the easiest, most natural, most instinctive thing in the world.

Raven stared at it for half a second—at the long fingers, the callused skin—and then placed her hand in his.

His fingers curled around hers, lacing through them in a way that felt like he'd done it a thousand times before—and wouldn't mind doing it a thousand times more.

And for the first time all night, Raven knew neither of them were pretending anymore.

[iscdisc]

This is a 2012 take I've had for a while now, and I'm so happy I made art about it today because I genuinely love talking about it !! 🗣️

This isn't meant to be 2012 Leo slander whatsoever, because I adore him and don't think he's terrible or anything (He's literally my favorite pick for the 2012 Turtles-) ! But I do feel that he admittedly had a lot of poor leadership moments at times (Especially in late Season 3 to Season 4- 💀), and I feel like a lot of the burden of having things accessible / ready / or even remotely feasible in order to have Leo's plans actually work out fell on Donnie. Without much appreciation or acknowledgment of that fact from Leo or anyone else for that matter.

I feel like if any of the brothers had a right to argue with Leo about leadership or how things were being run under him, it should have been Donnie, because Donnie had more than enough of a leg to stand on for that argument. I'm not trying to invalidate Raph's feelings or perspective, because I'm not saying I don't understand the angle of him being upset about Leo's blatant favoritism when it came to their Father and that being a big reason why he was so obstinate with Leo- But that aside, I don't feel like he had much of an argument to make when it came to presenting himself as a better option as far as leadership-?? I get retconning canon and that this could've just been the writers depicting Raph in a way that some of you may disagree with, but if we're basing this opinion on the Season 1 episode, "New Girl In Town", we can clearly see that he wasn't very well equipped to fill that role in the way that Leo was. And speaking of that particular episode, it was actually Donnie who stepped up when things were getting really bad with Snakeweed in the sewers- 👀

This is why I depict Raph in this scenario accepting this outcome and not being super defensive or acting like he should be included in the conversation, because I kind of have him admit that he wasn't the best at it-!

I'm also sorry, because there was so much more I wanted to draw, and instead of being able to show those things I'm just going to say them here-! For example, Splinter's involvement in the situation. I pretty much don't have him do anything about the unanimous vote, because in his eyes, this team's dynamic / structure is this team's business and he doesn't really have a place to say whether or not they change who leads the team. Sure he chose Leo in the beginning, but if they decide to come to a different decision, they're fully in the right to do that. So Leo couldn't exactly get Splinter to come to his defense,, 👍 || I also wanted to show more of Donnie and Leo both being pretty content with this new dynamic change after a while ! I somewhat got to explore that with the last image of Leo being able to fully explore his hobby / interest in astronomy, but I also wanted to show Donnie feeling very fulfilled and respected within this group of siblings and friends now that he is the team leader, with that being really satisfying for him ! || I also wanted to show Donnie having his first leader breakdown post the Kraang Invasion of Season 2, with Leo comforting him at the Farmhouse and expressing empathy having been in his position many many times before,, He just never really told his brothers about it because he didn't want them to worry and he honestly felt ashamed for breaking down so much,, <:/

Also, you know I can't resist putting 2012 Jonatello in everything I make, so of course this is going to have Jonatello moments too ! I just didn't get around to it yet- One of those things was going to be Casey becoming the second mechanic in the group in order to take off some of the work load on Donnie since now he's juggling even more than he used to-! The way Casey expresses not only concern but so much support for Donnie gives Donnie butterflies, okay- 👀💜🖤✨ Lmao

I guess the last thing I'll mention is kind of April's role and everything, since I want her to join Mikey in encouraging Leo to really explore himself as an individual now that he doesn't have to be defined by the leadership role anymore ! She's very supportive of him just being able to be himself and figure that out during this time ! But I also wanted her to better explain to Leo why she also agreed with this leadership change, since I can see him feeling a little betrayed by her. With Leo most likely assuming that she would have tried to reason with Donnie or get him to see a different side of the situation. I wanted to be very clear that she did not agree with Donnie because she felt bad for him or because of the weird crush he had on her and she didn't know how to be honest with him, etc. etc., you know what I mean? 👍✨

[prometheus-rewound]

Uh oh you flew to close to my hyper fixation now I have to talk about it XD

(tldr: It’s really important to analyze queer mythic figures in their historical context. That being said, the fact that Dionysus has face this level of scrutiny regarding his gender and sexuality may suggest that the ways Dionysus was being depicted/worshipped could have been queer in the contemporary context.)

I think historical context when discussing figures like Dionysus is super important and really fun. You’re so right that there’s so much conflation of actual Dionysian/Orphic practices with later Christian writings that were meant to trivialize Dionysian myth. Even way older than that actually, the Athenian state did not like the cult of Dionysos bc it wasn’t registered with the government (and bc it empowered women but that’s a whole other story). I need to look into this epithet In particular though— I’ve not seen it a ton in actual sources older than the Byzantine period. I’d love for you to send me some sources to look at though.

—

I’d actually argue though that you lay out some really solid evidence for Dionysus actually being a queer figure at the time of his worship.

I would agree in saying he’s not trans, or even gay. Those are modern terms created in a western, 19th/20th century context. However, queerness is an academic term that denotes expressions of gender and sexuality that break the norms of a specific culture. (I’ll reblog this with some good articles when I get the second)

A lot of the derogatory language, that actually references real practices surrounding Dionysus, I think actually is more evidence of him being queer in the context. As long as those derogatory statements can be traced back to contemporary portrayals obv.

It’s 100% true that being in mlm relationships was not inherently queer (also this depended on the time and area.). In Athens, it wasn’t queer to be in a sexual mentorship. Being in an equal mlm relationship than would be queer. This is where you usually see the whole ‘bottom is derogatory’ language. It’s a very Athenian thing lol. This though was different than Thebes, in which sexual relationships between men on equal standing was not queer if done in the context of warfare. (I’m making generalizations obv and these things are very Classical period specific).

But like you point out, male figures depicted as playing the younger, feminine, or more bluntly “bottom” role in the relationship were commonly mocked (especially in late-classical Athens in particular, and later).

This though is queer. Dionysus is performing a gender presentation that is out of the norm (because in this case sexuality does connote a separate gender presentation. The two are tied. A modern example would be like how Butch is a specific gender presentation that also implies the person’s sexuality). Even when this is depicted in comedy etc if it’s in a contemporary time all depictions are adding the to cultural idea of a queer Dionysus.

I would (and have lol) argued that there are a lot of Greek figures that actually are queer because in context they are breaking gender norms that we today don’t notice. Big examples are any man who swears off women and/or marriage. This often leads to their downfall due to them breaking these norms— and then implying that that specific presentation of masculinity is wrong and likely a queer presentation. Further more, a lot of older myths that depict queer relationships (that may not have been seen as queer at the time of their origin) often get reinterpreted as being deviant later on when norms have changed, or being reimagined to fit the new norms. This is all actually one of my favorite topics actually but I’ll hold back for now.

—

I think though that part of your argument seems to be that there isn’t a ton of evidence of Dionysus having gender play as apart of his worship irregardless of the cultural acceptance (I may have interpreted you wrong, I can’t tell if you meant the epithet specifically or w/ Dionysos’ gender-queerness overall).

For one thing, almost every cult (OG Dionysian cult, Orphic practices, Eleusinian, etc) that worshipped him was super secretive so we as archeologists are particularly screwed regarding that. However, from what we do know, there is a decent amount of evidence for this being the case. Like not that Dionysus was “trans”— he wasn’t a person or even worshipped like he was a person with a specific identity (i.e hero cults). Like he’s a concept— greek gods were NOT treated as anthropomorphic deities like some other pagan pantheons despite how modern depictions describe them (this is also a way more complicated topic)

However, him having a some-what fluid gender is pretty well documented. I mean the Bacchae (Euripides) characterizes him as an effeminate and with a man (Pentheus) lusting after him. Pentheus id mocked for cross dressing though so make of that what you will. I’ve seen a decent amount of articles arguing that the Bacchae is based on actual rituals but you know Euripides is a silly guy XD. That play is definitely all about breaking gender roles but it’s hard to know if it wasn’t just Euripides commenting on stuff. He’s pretty much the oldest concrete depiction of Dionysus like that besides the Homeric Hymns which I’ll talk about.

It’s honestly really hard to find older sources about Dionysus at all ya know, mystery cults. The story that comes up the most is the one w/ Dionysus being disguised as an effeminate young man.

The earliest example of Dionysus being depicted as somewhat androgynous (I mean the adj not the epithet) is in Homeric Hymn 7. It could be older than the Bacchae actually but Euripides goes really in detail lol. Ovid (much later but still contemporary with Orphic worship) goes super into detail about how girlish Dionysos was in this story ha ha but that’s bc it’s a retelling of the Bacchae and gender is a big theme there like I mentioned.

There is also the story of Dionysos being raised as a girl. The earliest mention of that is from Apollodorus I think from the late Hellenistic period.

However, in art, there is a big swing after the Bacchae of Dionysus being depicted as androgynous and young. There seems to be some thought that Euripides was the cause of this but it’s kind of a chicken and egg scenario.

It’s very likely that the oral storytelling of these myths are obviously far older but it is true it’s hard to know how much it was influenced by that late Classical shift towards effeminate Dionysus. There is Archaic pottery of Dionysus turning pirates into dolphins, however he’s depicted as already revealing himself and at this point is depicted as a bearded man.

More generally, from what I’ve seen the more androgynous depiction of Dionysus really gets popular in the late classical period. I do think though even before this Dionysus is depicted as being primarily worshipped by or at least surrounded by women, which I think hints to a non-standard relationship to gender especially in a patriarchal society (though the extreme gender norms was really an Athenian thing specifically, so take that with a grain of salt).

Overall I think reconsidering how queerness applies to ancient culture is super fun! I’d love to know other people’s thoughts.

I have been seeing some posts for Dionysos Androgynos popping up lately with lovely prayers and offerings ! this is wonderful, but it makes me want to clarify something. His epithet Androgynos is not related to gender identity as we know it now nor was it used in worship denoting queerness. I have seen people talking about this epithet being worshiped but there isn't much tangible evidence for that (that I know of).

it generally means "man-woman" and it refers to the position a man takes during sex—"both taking and receiving penetration during sex". being a man who was in the woman's role during sex wasn't a flex back then, they were seen as naive and lesser than the older man on top. I've seen suggestions that this epithet (along with "chickpea Dionysos") may have been used more derogatorily.

Dionysos is a wonderfully queer deity in the modern age, but we have to remember Ancient Greece is an entirely different culture and ideas. we can't directly exchange values with a culture 2,000 years removed from us. It's totally fine to reclaim this epithet, but claiming it is historically a trans epithet is incorrect.

[mamawasatesttube]

Between Tim and Kon who makes the first move?

honestly for me it varies! i slightly tend towards it being tim, but not always. but in a very specific way, i.e. it's a very gradual melt right on into a relationship, and tim is the one who goes hey. wait a minute. this feels like A Relationship.

at first, saying it'd be tim is probably surprising, since tim has a history of NOT making the first move across his comics - we don't actually see how he and ari get together, but steph chases after him and repeatedly states her interest in him before they ever get together; tim is the one who asks zoanne out, but only after she kisses him and then runs away. then tam once again is the one to ask him if he's interested in her (and, i mean, if you count lynx ii, she's always the one initiating things getting physical and making out with him, but they also literally never talk about it, so i don't entirely really count her as a serious tim love interest).

on the other hand, while kon of course has been a flirt since he was decanted from his tube, a lot of it was very performative and he's only actually ever been in three relationships, two of which were instances of abuse and grooming. given how introspective he gets after his resurrection, and how much less sure of himself he is in general, i tend to believe this is where he starts actually unpacking all his relationship trauma and internalized homophobia. i think actually accepting that he is gay and not actually interested in women is a very jarring thing for him, and accepting that he was groomed and abused is also very difficult, and it takes him a while.

because of that, i think he ends up a) confused about what romance actually feels like, and b) very tentative about dating for a while. he wants deep connection - he was genuinely in love with knockout, and he thought she loved him too; he thought tana would be part of his life forever, and his devotion to cassie was notable even before they actually dated. but deep connections are hard to make with people you don't know well, and by the time he's around 19-20 i think he's kind of struggling with the idea that he's not gonna get what he's looking for in casual relationships, but also the idea of being in Gay Love with one of his best friends is terrifying, because he's not good at identifying what being in love feels like, so he kinda talks himself out of it. "this is comfortable and easy so it must not be romance, this is just really good friendship, because romance feels like walking a tightrope. right? haha. right??" and all that.

and then moreover, i think tim really sits on the fact that he's bisexual for a long time. not because he's trying to hide it, but because he's just so intensely private about things that bother him, and he's got some jack drake shaped Internalized Issues in his head to work through about what it means to be transmasc and to like men (i.e. a voice that sounds suspiciously like a conservative dad putting in one single ounce of effort re: understanding queer relationships is in the back of his head going "but you'd be the girl in the relationship if you dated a man, right?" and tim has to take several deep breaths and figure out how to unpack that before he's ready to even think about admitting out loud that he's interested in guys too, even to himself, let alone to anyone else).

so for a hot second kon's just out there going "i like men but it doesn't matter because i'm never going to fall in love with someone that really truly wants me and loves me as deeply as i'd love them, and i'd be miserable about that except that i'm just pretty satisfied being bffs with tim :) i feel at ease when he's around and he makes me laugh and i just like being near him and watching him work on gadgets or listening to him ramble about cars or letting him sleep on my shoulder. i know it's not romantic because i feel so safe and comfortable, but i'm happy with it, whatever it is. and if i think he's hot, well, that's just because he is hot. everyone knows that!" guy who pretty much is already tim's boyfriend but he hasn't noticed that yet because they're both kind of stupid and also insanely devoted to each other in the same way, so they both go "yeah this seems normal for us" and kon really doesn't question it that hard.

meanwhile tim is the guy to whom labels and boxes matter a lot more, so he's the one who sits back one day and goes, wait. oh my god. i'm in love with kon. and then he has to steeple his index fingers and interlace the others and press his hands to his face in deep, deep thought. he's in love with kon, and realizing that makes a lot about his life suddenly make a lot of sense, because seriously - a hundred clone attempts, changing robin to be red and black, making out with cassie because he missed kon so much - okay, okay, yeah, he sees it now, okay, so maybe he's been in love with kon for years at this point and never actually realized it, that's fine, this is fine, he's FINE, he's NOT freaking out or overthinking--

anyways. after freaking out and overthinking and brooding on a rooftop for four to seven business days (not all at once, of course, but he gets his hours in), he finally goes to kon and jabs his finger into his chest and goes "Hey. Are we dating?"

and kon stares at him for a second with a loading circle spinning over his head. claps his hand over his mouth. inhales sharply like a dying fish. claps his other hand over the first hand. starts floating a few inches off the ground in pure agitation.

"Oh my god, Tim," he says, his eyes as wide as dinner plates and his voice an octave higher than usual. "Are we dating?!"

"I think so," Tim says, and narrows his eyes. "I mean, if we're not, maybe we should be. Pizza and a movie tonight?"

and kon clearly goes through A Whole Process in his head (working through the "wait, dating is comfy and chill and happy and easy?!" crisis in real time), but ultimately goes "okay!!! yeah!! okay!!! let's do that!!! wow!!!!" because, hey. he would love to hold hands with tim while watching the sunset and eating hipster san francisco pizza.

and that's how they end up sitting on the floor by the coffee table in the titans tower common room, eating pizza, and poring over a calendar + their text message history to try and figure out when, exactly, their anniversary is. ("okay, so when we went on that picnic in april, was that a date?" "i think so. alright, so it has to be before april, but after valentine's, because you made a joke about being single here, see? so we're looking at somewhere in march. "okay, but we did do 'palentine's' together, so does that really count??" "fuck, you're right, that totally was a date too. uh...")

[windandglory]

On Urara's evil cycle (is he a weirdo?)

It was a brief moment. Pretty easy to overlook. The rush of having just done something to gain the respect of Leviathan Leiji caused Urara to slip into an evil cycle. A natural evil cycle, given how quickly it went away.

We see Urara's eyes here, while he's still stuck in the water bubble. They look normal.

(For reference, these are definitively normal Urara eyes.)

I believe it begins here, after the worst of the danger has passed and he's getting more personalized attention from Leiji (baby gay! love it for him). The "water" at the bottom of his eyes has started to pool.

On this page, Urara's eyes are, likely intentionally, hidden except for panel 1 (the second-to-last panel is a flashback). It's not clear, and his eyes aren't drawn in detail, but you can still see the sort of wave pattern rather than the usual downward curve.

And here. The scene of the crime. We see his eyes in detail. there are bubbles in it, and it looks like pooling water. It's themed, kind of like his sister's. In fact, the pattern of it kind of looks like Clara's but inverted. I don't think it's a coincidence that these two mini-arcs were set up right beside each other.

Anyway, after Leiji chastizes Urara, the "water" seems to literally drain from his eyes. It's odd that this snapped him out of this evil cycle, given that our resident returned-to-origins demon seems to enjoy being scolded lots, and it's happiness and stress relief (see:akudols) said to keep demons out of their evil cycle, but whatever works for Urara, I suppose.

The next time we see Urara's eyes, they're back to normal entirely. The dark shading at the bottom of his eyes curves downwards, and he doesn't get that look on his face again.

However, I don't think he's out of the red yet. We see those bubbles come back here, when Leiji tells him to watch:

(again, it's Leiji! Urara really idolizes this jerk)

And here, when Urara goes on about how cool Leiji is:

And here, when Urara gets promoted (and poked in the ribs by Leiji):

And here, again when Leiji's addressing him directly:

It's important to note that Urara's eyes look somewhat like this earlier, after Leiji touches him for the first time:

As a counterpoint to everything I just said, the netherworld’s premier expert on evil cycles is present and never comments on it. The simplest explanation is that this is just a stylistic choice and Urara never entered an evil cycle at all. As for me, I think there might be multiple stages of an evil cycle. The stress may not have overwhelmed Urara, and Balam knows to worry more about behavior than the appearance of the eyes. Urara is responding to his demonic instincts as a reaction to stress but his rational thought is not impaired, something that may be a sign of a possible impending evil cycle without any urgency, which is why Balam didn’t bother to mention it as it reverts within a matter of minutes.

So: evil cycle or just a childhood crush? Or both? Honestly, I don't know.

The depiction of evil cycles has been a bit inconsistent. At the beginning of the manga, it sounded like demons just went through PMS every so often. Feels like an evil cycle sometimes, honestly.

Nowadays, it’s depicted more akin to a psychotic break. A demon’s body is stressed, either from negative stress or excitement, and an evil cycle is the culmination and in some cases release of that stress. Their view of the world is changed (see:Iruma in his artificial evil cycle suddenly finding the situation the abnormal class is in unfair) and previously present morals fall by the wayside (see:Clara finding trapping her best friends in a pocket dimension forever, draining their mana constantly, to be an entirely okay thing to do). Sometimes a demon in an evil cycle just needs to vent their stress (Asmodeus), sometimes they need to get rid of the primary stressor (Clara). However, like a psychotic break, the evil cycle itself is not a release of stress. The end of one is. Balam says that a (triggered) evil cycle puts a lot of strain on a demon’s body. I think this is why Kirio is so frail. The strain of consuming mana only counts for his exhaustion after using his barrier. Since he’s essentially in a constant evil cycle, his body is always in a constant state of activation. It’s not sustainable.

Most demons seem to go through an evil cycle just once or twice before they find a sustainable way to prevent it, or perhaps not at all. A bunch of demons going into an evil cycle at Levialon is a big deal rather than a natural coincidence. The entirety of demonic culture makes room for ways for demons to have outlets for stress to prevent evil cycles, as if it's some big societal problem. A demon that's returned to origins, basically one in a constant evil cycle, is something dangerous that just doesn't happen anymore, even though evil cycles seem to. Some demons, especially those with high mana and strong personalities (Asmodeus, Clara) get violent or otherwise hostile while in their evil cycle. Iruma at the point where he went into his simulated evil cycle had no strong personality but had access to a LOT of mana, and he just became a more confident, productive person. Though, they seem to have been making evil cycles a more important part of the story, so I'm excited to see what direction they take it in! PMS or psychotic break, we will see!

[crossdressingdeath]

Yeah, it's not that Crows will never kill an unrelated person as part of a contract, but some definitely go further than others in trying to avoid it (to the point where Lucanis in particular actually risks jeopardizing a contract over it, which is a fantastic insight into his character; I suspect Teia would do the same, but we've never seen it happen as far as I'm aware). Killing random people who happen to be there just makes a mess!

Honestly? I think a lot of people are complaining that the Crows are being made out to be heroes because a) they're not being portrayed as pure evil and b) you can't agree with Ivenci (who is demonstrably wrong about pretty much everything and even if we agree that the Crows shouldn't be running the show the alternative Ivenci is offering is... them, the person who let an invading army waltz in and occupy the place without a fight and chooses gassing the city over losing with good grace; I think we can all agree that the assassins having a majority share in the government in a way that we know is at least no worse than the rest of Thedas's governments is in fact better than that). Everyone wants moral complexity until you say the loved faction isn't 100% good or the hated faction isn't 100% evil. And there's also an element of... well, in this particular conflict (or rather the two ongoing conflicts the Crows are currently involved in, the occupation and the fight against the gods) the Crows are in fact the heroes! "Bioware is portraying the Crows as freedom fighters—" yep, because they are currently fighting to free Antiva from occupation. The Crows first off are more complex than Zevran's very brief and at this point in the timeline very out of date "this is why I left please protect me" overview (and even Zevran acknowledges that there were perks; I've said this before in many places, but he didn't leave because being a Crow was awful all the time and he hated being an assassin, he left because of his specific personal circumstances caused by one specific superior), and second are currently facing two (three if you count Ivenci separately) groups who they are in fact objectively morally superior to. They're heroes not because they're necessarily good—in fact no one actually claims they are; even Crows who really believe in the family thing like Teia are pretty open about the Crows' flaws, at least in their own POV and/or to other Crows who they trust—but because... well, have you seen the opposition?

Y'know, at first I was a little irked by de Riva responding to Davrin talking about the Wardens recruiting murderers with (paraphrased) "that sounded fun up until the murderers" given what they do for a living. But then I remembered that de Riva canonically does not consider themselves to be a murderer (when Bellara says they're looking for a killer in the Ossuary de Riva insists that they're looking for an assassin, because "Murderers don't usually get paid"). Them not liking the idea of working with murderers is probably less "Oh, murder, how terrible" and more "Ew, hobbyists", which is very on-brand for a Crow and also extremely funny.

[alpaca-clouds]

The 1990s and the Monsters

Back when Digimon game to the west, everyone was very quick to decide that it was a rip-off of Pokémon. Every Digimon fan obviously knows that this is not true, given how close the origin of the franchises lay too each other in Japan. The first Pokémon game released in Japan in October 1996, the Digital Monster Tamagotchi release in Japan in June 1997, not even a full year later. In fact, we do know how Digimon started: By Bandai trying (and somewhat failing) to market Tamagotchi to boys. (Digimon was still a lot more popular with girls. lol Turns out girls love monsters, too.)

But here is the thing: Monster taming was a popular genre in Japanese media for decades at the time - and something about the second half of the 1990s made several companies go: "You know what we need right now? A monster training franchise!"

While Pokémon is by far the most famous of the franchises, and Digimon probably follows in second place -internationally - those two were by far not the only ones. As someone who grew up at the time, had access to the internet, and was very liberal in regards to downloading anime... Oh boy, there was a lot of monster stuff happening at the time.

Some of it was great. Most of it never came to the west. A lot of it never got a second, let alone a third season. And oh boy, I want to talk about it. Which is why I will do this during the next couple weeks, because... You know what? You deserve to know about all those monster shows that came out between like 1995 and 2005. It sure was a lot. And you might find something in there that you are going to absolutely adore.

And mind you, while YGO never was intended to fall into this, it ended up falling into it too. But YGO you all probably know, given that it is fairly popular in the west. Monster Rancher also came out in the west - though somehow barely anyone seems to remember it existing. I am not quite sure why.

But generally speaking, this particular time had a ton of stuff that was based around the idea of "kid teams up with (somewhat) sentient non-human creature(s) to do stuff". This stuff could be anything. Saving the world, fighting in some sort of tournament, or - quite often - hacking stuff. It was after all the millennium and computers were the new hot shit. The internet was finally starting to be more widely used ans such.

I think next to this, the Japanese idea of living "things" (an even more literal ghost in the machine) and also a variety of traditions - such as Onmyouji - were playing a role into why this particular idea was becoming so popular in Japan. Though I guess no one can doubt that some part of it also was that Pokémon came out in 1996, became popular, and everyone was trying to jump onto the bandwagon. While I will still maintain that this was not thetruth for all of it (Digimon and Monster Farm released as games too close to Pokémon to be inspired by it and as I noted: YGO was inspired by MTG, not Pokémon).

Still, as someone who grew up on those shows, I am fascinated by them - and especially by those that got forgotten by the wider audiences.

And yeah, I think the others never came out over here. So, yeah.

Over the next weeks I am going to talk about them.

[hello-gloomy]

Petrified Circus

Chapter One

Flyers For You To See

Stanley Snyder x Fem!Reader

Summary: "Are you bored in the stone world? Missing television? Not being able to find entertainment? Well, look no further! The traveling Freak show is now in your area. Eager and willing to entertain, perform, and share excitement with you."

Warnings: Minor violence, Lots of dialog, no reader yet only small tidbits. Suspense.

"If you only look for the worst in people, you'll miss out on all the good that can be there."

"But if all I look for is good, then I'll miss the evil looking me in the face."

Evil looked him in his face, and it made him disappear because of it; you wouldn't let that happen to you.

****

"Are you bored in the stone world? Missing television? Not being able to find entertainment? Well, look no further! The traveling Freak show is now in your area. Eager and willing to entertain, perform, and share excitement with you."

Senkuu blinked owlishly at the radio equipment, listening to the announcer talk and convey his ad for whatever contraption of a circus he was talking about. He was more interested in the fact that another group of humans had a working radio system and that this is what they were deciding to do with it; 'Gen would enjoy this,' he thought to himself as the ad provider finished up telling the coordinates of where the circus would be performing when they would be arriving and all the things they were going to host to all those that wanted to come. The transmission came to an end,

"Well?" Xeno asked, and Sai turned to look at him while Xeno switched off the frequency. Senkuu sighed and rubbed his neck without thought; while he would love to check it out personally, he still had a few diplomatic problems. Xeno had to deal with building the rest of the developing American colony, and Sai was Sai. A knock at the communications room door broke up the group's silent contemplation.

"Come in." Stanley poked his head in and made his way towards Xeno; he sat on the arm of his chair and joined the conversation. Senkuu decided on their problem the second the knight sat down; he looked at Xeno. Xeno glanced up at their new solution.

"Care for a new assignment, Stan?" Stanley lit his smoke and raised an eyebrow at the doctor. Sai grabbed one of the many maps the young Chelsea had put aside for them in the area they resided in and set it down on a table as the other men gathered around while he set it up. Senkuu grabbed some colored pins and highlighted the coordinates from the broadcast they heard.

"Some self-proclaimed Freak show is traveling in our local area a few days from now. Based on how the broadcaster spoke, we know they have a working radio system and moved around quite a bit before coming here." Stanley looked at the area the young scientist highlighted and searched for the fastest and most efficient route as the boy talked.

"Why not go yourself?" He looked up as he asked.

"I have other problems to deal with. Thank you; you're on an extended leave, so you have plenty of time for a side quest." Stanley gives a dead stare as Senkuu dishes out his usual sarcasm.

"Gen is expected to return by the time the circus arrives, so you should bring him along," Xeno interjects while writing a list of things down for the trip.

"While we prepare the necessary tools for this, you can pick out the rest of the members of your group." Xeno starts moving around the room, grabbing items along the way; Sai hops up and begins to help,

"Make sure it's a small group; you don't need to scare them off," Senkuu says as he takes his mentor's previous seat. Stanley takes a drag from his smoke as he thinks of the group he'll have to prepare in the short days he has; he lets out a sigh and gets up.

"I know how to do my job, kid." Said 'child,' rolls his ruby eyes at the remark on his age. He hopes this isn't the start of something horrible. Stanley exits the room with the doctor and the prodigy, leaving Senkuu alone in his thoughts; he wonders what Gen would think of all of this.

****

You hid the platinum device in a safe place from the acting showman until you found your cousin; you could hear the ruckus from outside your caravan cart; you knew something was off about him when he initially joined, but had you known that he had such a temper over something that shouldn't be important to someone of his original position you would have fought to convince your cousin that something was wrong. You have many regrets about what you should have done, but all you can do is act to protect what's left of him. You look to your vanity and see your reflection; you seem tired. How many days had he been gone now? You were starting to lose count. Breathing deeply, you fix your costume and readjust your makeup to hide any suspicions of yourself until you can devise a proper action plan. You put your hat and coat on with a flourish and open the door to face the music. You won't lose this battle. You can't.

*****

"Didn't think I'd find you in such a noisy place." Ukyo looked away from the target and smiled at Stanley.

"It's not too crowded today." Ukyo guided his fellow sharpshooter to a more private spot to continue their conversation. The shooting range in town has become popular with some of the early revivers and some of the original Stone World occupants. Stanley pulls a crate from a spot in the storage room and sits as Ukyo fixes the arrows he has for his bow.

"What do the doctors have in store for us this time?" Stanley can't help but grin at the archer's quick uptake; he's glad he picked him for this group. Stanley gives him the rundown of what happened yesterday and the basics of what they will do until they have more information. Ukyo nods along and stops what he is engaged with to give Stanley his proper answer.

"Who else is coming with?"

"Gen and I were thinking about taking Kohaku with us. She seemed pretty bored." Ukyo let out a small chuckle at his jest to the girl.

"I better go pack a few bags, then. We might be there for a few days as we figure things out." Stanley gave him an understanding nod and got up. He gave Ukyo a pat on the back and then took his leave to find the last member of his group. Stanley walked along the town's paved roads, wondering if Stanley could see the bright-eyed girl. He was about to head back to the central lab to ask either Senkuu or Chrome about her whereabouts till he felt a swish of air above him. He looked up to one of the buildings and saw her moving among the roofs effortlessly as she pleased; she smiled brightly as she entertained herself. Stanley decided to let him have a bit more fun and followed along with her till she came to a lower height; she looked down at him from where she was and gave him a wave. She dropped in front of him and let out a breath of air when she landed; he tilted his head in a direction opposite to them, signaling for her to follow. She tilted her head in curiosity before shrugging and following along. They walked silently, listening to other pedestrians pass by them in conversation; they arrived at a restaurant, and Stanley opened the door for her, allowing her to walk in first.

"I'm putting together a small group to investigate a traveling circus that broadcasted over the radios that they were in the area and invited anyone to come and see them," Stanley explained to her as they looked over the lunch menus in unison. Kohaku nodded and placed her order before she answered him.

"How big is the group?"

"You, Me, Gen, and Ukyo." She hummed as she told him about the others. The waitress who collected their menus returned with large plates of food for them. Kohaku looked like a wolf starving as she ate her meal, and Stanley shook his head in silent amusement at her healthy appetite. They ate quietly for a short while before Kohaku asked him another question.

"How many days till we leave out."

"About two and a half now; they gave a specific time of when they would arrive at the location they had set and what time the showings would begin." They finished their meals, and Stanley covered the costs; as they were moving toward the exit, they noticed a commotion outside, with multiple groups of people stopping in the middle of the street they were on. They hurriedly finished their business inside and rushed out. When outside, they were met with multiple flyers flying and falling along the street; mass discussion broke out among those outside. Stanley picked up one of the many fallen flyers and read what was on it.

"Prepare to be amazed! Traveling Freak Show comes closer to you! Wonder Awaits." Stanley felt some adrenaline start to run through him. This was getting more serious as the countdown to the show got closer.

"Stanley! Look!" Kohaku grasped his attention as she shouted and pointed to two cloaked figures on roofs opposite each other, gathering other citizens' attention. The odd figures, hearing Kohaku's shout, started to dash along them, running opposite to the blondes in the street. Stanley pocketed the flyer for later and engaged in the chase they had started, Running along the crowded streets, shoving others out of their way. One of the cloaked figures dropped between the buildings, and Kohaku broke off from Stanley to pursue them; following the echoing footsteps, they stopped at a dead end, the figure still not facing her.

"Hah! Nowhere to run now." She spites them with triumph as she draws her sword from her back. Finally, her prey turns and faces her, giving her a slight surprise when she sees their face; it is a carnival mask, one of a jester, but instead of eyes, there are black voids of nothing looking at her. It made her heart throb a bit at how unnerving it looked. She goes to take a defensive stance, but her attacker beats her to it, rushing her head-on, making quick swipes at her before backing off and throwing something out, causing a cloud of smoke to surround them. Kohaku coughs as she tries to locate them but instead feels a harsh hit to the back of her skull, promptly knocking her out cold. When she comes to, she finds she still in the same alleyway but sitting up against a wall; she jerks to action, grabbing her weapon again and whipping her head around, only to find Stanley standing near her, not looking the slightest bit happy.

"They both got away, " he informs her as he stomps out the cigarette. Stanley offers her a hand and hoists her to her feet. She gives him thanks as she sheathes her sword on her back.

"What happened to your guy?" She asks him. Stanley rubs his temple in slight aggravation at the question and pulls out his box of smokes.

"He put a civilian in danger to distract me."

"Mines had a smoke bomb." She scoffs while sharing what happened with hers. Stanley shakes his head as he exhales smoke; he looks around the rest of the alleyway they are in and does a double take when he notices something caught in a gap in the building wall. He motions to Kohaku and points out the object to her; he adeptly climbs the wall, grabbing it and bringing it over to him. When handed to him, he finds that it's a gold piece of fabric or maybe a ribbon as he turns it over, looking closely at it.

"Did you ever get a look at your attacker's face, Stanley?"

"No, but I'm guessing you did with yours," he asks, looking up at her, and she nods.

"They were wearing some kind of pied mask." She shares that she is trying to find the best way to describe it to him without knowing the word for the mask's design. Stanley pauses momentarily before pulling out the folded flyer from earlier and pointing to the masks on it.

"Like this?" She let out a gasp and nodded her head vigorously at the image of the mask on the paper.

"Although the one he was wearing had a neutral face."

"It's called a jester," Stanley informed her as he folded the paper back up and added the fabric they found. Stanley and Kohaku looked over the alleyway, hoping to see more clues. They found nothing and exited the tight space back to the major streets.

"Let's head to the lab and see if Senkuu and Xeno can make anything of this." They picked up their pace to return to the fortress before nightfall.

*****

"Well, it's definitely fabric."

"You don't say." Kohaku's hands were on her hips as she tried not to smack Senkuu into his microscope. He grinned at her before looking back at the fabric again.

"There are no fingerprints on it and no really different particles, which are different than what we have here. So I can't tell you much more than what it was composed of, and maybe what area of California it came from by the left of dirt on it, but that's it," Senkuu picked his ear, and Stanley sighed. He wished Xeno was here instead of the brat; not like he'd give a different answer than the one the boy had given.

"Anyway, we have the vehicle your group will be taking courtesy of Brody; check it out before you leave, and make sure to go over your checklists again. You only have a few days until you all leave." Senkuu pitched some more notes at them on what they should pack.

"Are you sure Gen's gonna make it back in time, genius?" Kohaku pestered lightly while squinting at the list in exasperation. The leek-haired boy shrugged and shooed them out. They closed behind them, and they moved to head to the vehicle shed to check out the car they were taking. When arriving, they meet with a proud Brody and a tired Kaseki, both giving a rundown on a pseudo-military jeep to Stanley and a wide car to Kohaku. The interior was pleasant, and the seats went down far enough for them to both stake out or sleep in comfortably. They gave their thanks to both of them men and went about their ways.

"I'm gonna drop off the other part of the checklist to Ukyo. You gonna be okay walking home by yourself?"

"I grew up in a literal forest." Kohaku deadpanned, slightly offended by his offer. He smiled at her bitterness and walked away in compliance with her claim. Watching the setting sun as he walks to the residential district, Stanley is reminded of the incident from earlier and wonders if Ukyo has caught wind of it yet. He shakes the thought from his mind when he reaches Ukyo's place and decides to deal with it once inside. He hears fast footsteps, and the door opens before he can even knock.

"Did you see the flyers?"

"I'm good, thanks." Ukyo laughs good-naturedly and apologizes while letting Stanley inside the building. Stanley takes a seat on his host's couch as he opens a window for Stan to smoke as he pleases. Ukyo momentarily walks to another room before returning with the flyer. Stanley takes the offered paper out of his hands; looking at it, he notices something different. He pulls out the crumpled flyer he had and sets it on the coffee table in front of them.

"There were different flyers handed out?" Ukyo offers while they look at both of them, one having twin masquerade masks while the other had a two-headed lion jumping through a flaming hoop in the other. Stanley sighs and leans back on the couch.

"Tea?" Ukyo offers, standing back up. Stanley nods, and the latter walks to the kitchen. Stanley sits back and looks over the flyer; he analyzes them for moments, spacing out as he does so, only snapping out when Ukyou comes back with two mugs. Stanley thanks him, picking up the steaming mug in one hand and the paper in the other; he flips it over and notices some barely noticeable symbol on the back of the one he had. When looking closer at it, he felt a chill run through his blood; Ukyo looked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at, and his eyes widened at the sight of the drawing on the paper.

"Is that the Medusa?" Ukyo took the paper out of Stanley's hands and lifted it to the light in the living room. When held close to the light, the image disappeared as quickly as they had seen it. Ukyo furrows his brow in confusion and sets down the paper. He grabs the one he found and flips it over to see the slightly visible shape on his paper two. He traces it lightly before he perks up with an idea.

"Do you have your light or matches on you?" Stanley looks at the archer oddly before handing him a silver lighter with an 'x' on the casing. Ukyo Takes the paper and fires up the lighter, gently holding it above the open flame of the side with the printing on it and the bare side upwards. As he slowly moves, the image becomes lighter.

"What does the medusa have to do with the circus." Ukyo tosses the paper down and hands Stan his light and then holds his hand to his face.

"We'll figure this out tomorrow; it's getting late." Stanley gets up, grabs the paper Ukyo used the lighter on, and takes it with him to show Xeno and Senkuu in the morning. He runs a hand through his hair and puts the mug in the kitchen as Ukyo follows.

"Senkuu updated our checklists, so rego over yours and pack accordingly. We might have to move up the traveling date to stake them out." After putting his shoes back on, he hands Ukyo the papers, waves goodbye, and closes the door behind him. Stanley lights another cigarette, looking at the starry sky in thought. The word floated around in his mind at the moment.

'Why?'

[c0unt3rc0m84t]

Okay so Thunderbolts came out. Spoilers ahead and potential trigger warnings. Reader discretion advised

Trigger warning SH

Yelena is perfect. That is all.

In all seriousness I've seen a lot of people talking about this and some had good to say and some not so good. I needed this movie. I think a lot of people needed this movie. As someone diagnosed bipolar and borderline, a lot of things hit. Watching a marvel movie with the big fight being with someone who was deep in the darkness and everyone reaching out to save him was beautiful. The thing that got me the most though was the self harm and self destructive parts. Hearing Yelena the entire movie struggle with direction and watching 3 times as she walks a tightrope with death hurt. The opening took me out. That felt personal. The way she just accepted they were going to be incinerated also hurt. Finally her just walking into the void (which idk if im weird but I still don't really feel like she knew there was a way out or way to save him) just fucking hurt. It all hurt but to actually see someone who I relate to like Yelena just openly express how much she wants to give in was kind of cathartic. Watching her protect her younger self was cathartic. Hearing Alexei (who I've expressed having a lot of anger towards because of the beginning of Black Widow) tell her how pure he sees her and how much he loves her and is trying to be there even though he is a fuckup was cathartic. I've been alone a lot of my life and to see her journey was so beautiful to me.

Yeah there are still some problems. We didn't see Bucky or Alexei or Ava's void dreams and it sucks. I think we have seen enough of Bucky but it would have been cool for him to look the Winter Soldier in the face and confront it even for a second. I dont know if there's much for Ava honestly we know about her past a decent amount. The one that bugs me is Alexei. We don't know really anything about his past or how he became Red Guardian and I wish we had gotten some of that but I think the movie worked without it. It definitely felt Yelena, Bob and Bucky centric and I hope the next one will expand on the others if we get another (probably).

What I really enjoyed though is how the real antagonist wasn't Bob or even Void. The real antagonist was (obviously their own traumas but) Valentina. Having the big antagonist be someone who's just a manipulator for the trauma movie kinda hit. Val sent all of them to kill each other and they became a team instead. I think many people have had situations where a manipulator pointed them at someone and then you become friends with that person and realize the manipulator was manipulating (that felt english). The fact Valentina made him his "best self" and tried to make him obedient to her just to try to kill him when he turned is contrasted with him trying to kill the team at his darkest and they showed him compassion and understanding and empathy and helped him heal the wounds instead of just putting an image over him was amazing. Yeah it felt a little cheesy at times and the conflict being solved with a hug is definitely cheesy but I loved it anyway. It came down to a bunch of antisocials finding others like them and becoming a team.

Honestly I understood why Walker was how he was in FatWS but this movie while not giving him as much as I wish it could have did a good job at showing that he's a soldier first (perhaps a trigger happy one). He doesn't act like a person that much but I think its nice to have kept that as something he finds comfort in. While Yelena was comforting herself and masking with sarcasm for some humor and Alexei masked with being grandiose, John was kind of masking with his soldier roots. I think it was intentional to show how important being a soldier was to him. He lost being Cap and was kicked out of service but he "gave his life for their mandates".

Ghost didn't get much and I think that's a bummer but also to our knowledge her biggest trauma is the fact she could die at any moment because of her intangibility (understandable). I think for her she was just happy to have connection with people. She only had Bill Foster in Antman so I think she needed friends. I hope we learn more and get more depth for her going forward because she's cool and yeah.

I will say I wish Bucky got to do more. Like yes he had some badass fight scenes and was a mood grumpy old cat man style but if they were going to do mental health than I think Bucky should have been the one to help them heal more. I think Alexei was good for Yelena to heal, but Buckys arc in FatWS was learning to heal. My biggest complaint in this was him being reverted back to being grumpy and depressed when he was so happy at the end of FatWS. Him going back felt like a regression. I do think its interesting he's helping Yelena call the shots and clearly I love Yelena but I think where Bucky is he should be the one leading. If he goes out in Secret War or Doomsday I think that's when Yelena should have taken over. Personally I think Yelena needs a bit more time although I do enjoy how they're pushing her to the forefront currently.

Bob was adorable and it'll be interesting to see where he'll go. I dont have much to say honestly he felt like a plot device with some character to me. I think it'll be interesting to see how he fits in with the rest of them with his status at the end.

Taskmaster I think should have gotten a bit of time. I think they could have given us a bit of depth to her and then if they still wanted to kill her do it then but make us feel a bit more for her. That also would have made her death have more of an impact. That's like the other ball I felt was dropped. She deserved better and I think they catered a little too hard to the haters of Antonia in this one. Anyways that's my thoughts on it. Thank you for reading.

[rosysugarr]

THE BIG SHADOW MILK COOKIE EXPLANATION POST: for both @pixiecaps and anyone else following me who wants to know who the fuck that blue clown I keep crying about lately is

ALRIGHT SO. First we gotta start with a little cookie lore background. The very most basics you gotta understand are this: the Cookies are in fact actual baked cookies who are made by Witches. The Witches create these little guys for a lot of reasons, ranging from using them for protection or other tasks, just setting them out into the world to see what happens, and, yes, literally eating them as a snack. Yes, the live ones. Yes, it is a nightmare.

SO. Back in the day, some Witches who decided hey, let's NOT eat them actually, let's let these little guys live and prosper created five extra special Cookies to keep an eye on things and help Cookie society function. Each of them represented an important aspect of the world that they kind of managed-- think lil sugary angels of various things, or maybe minor gods. They each were given a special gem of sorts called a soul jam, which is bound to their soul and grants them immortality and a HUGE amount of power. For this story, the one we're focused on is the Cookie who was created to oversee Knowledge and bring the gift of magic to the Cookies: the Fount of Knowledge, aka Shadow Milk Cookie.

Now, we don't know the exact events for certain just yet, but here is what we do know: over time, each of those five special god Cookies went rogue, turning on the world and causing a whole lot of damage. The Fount of Knowledge, it seems, attempted to educate the Cookies about some kind of painful truth, and they refused to listen or accept it, and apparently turned on him. Hurt and angry because the people refused to listen and would rather live in blissful ignorance and believe lies, he began just telling lies instead, becoming the Beast of Deceit. He used this Deceit to cause just... SO many problems.

When the Witch who created the Beasts saw what they were doing, she attempted to purify their corrupt soul jams and trapped their bodies in a prison underground, over which she planted a special tree to hold them there. The Witch managed to split each soul jam, creating a second half of each that was pure and uncorrupted, and these new soul jams went to five new Cookies who were deemed deserving of their power. (Also interestingly, when this happened, it seems like the actual virtue they represent was split as well-- in this case, the soul jam of Knowledge was split into one of Deceit, and one of Truth.) The Witch also created the faerie Cookies to protect the place where the Beasts were trapped.

So, the Cookie who Shadow Milk's soul jam ended up with is Pure Vanilla Cookie. He's an incredibly kind and gentle healer type-- very sweet little guy who loves every living thing type. He's literally followed by birds everywhere like a fairy tale princess. His backstory could be an ENTIRE OTHER POST OF ITS OWN honestly. But anyway, Shadow Milk found out his soul jam found someone new and watched Pure Vanilla for a while.

ANOTHER extremely long story short, the main villain of the game's overarching story, Dark Enchantress, attempts to set the Beasts free from their prison. She ends up failing the first attempt, but not before Shadow Milk bothers a bunch of faeries and sets their kingdom on fire, and then kills their king, because fuck him. She then proceeds to try again, and actually succeeds-- rather than freeing their original bodies, she decides to just create new bodies for each Beast that they can possess. Because the Beasts are just broken like that.

Once the Beasts are set up in their new bodies, they each immediately go about trying to get the other half of their soul jam back. Shadow Milk goes after Pure Vanilla and lures him into his villainous lair, the Spire of Deceit, using his minion Candy Apple in disguise. He actually MEETS Pure Vanilla then, and then decides... hey. What if, instead of taking my soul jam back, I just fucked with this guy? What would happen if I just fucked with him super bad and tried to crush his soul? I bet his soul jam would do something super cool and fun if I did that. So he puts Pure Vanilla through the fucking torment nexus, trying his best to push him as hard as he can into despair just to see what he'll do.

Now it's at this point that Shadow Milk's own minions start talking to each other about just how weird he's acting. They are BAFFLED that he's spending so much time playing with this guy and hasn't just taken the soul jam, and they note that he seems a lot happier than usual... to the point where they're even pretty jealous of how their master is acting towards him. It seems like Shadow Milk has actually taken quite the shine to Pure Vanilla.

Finally, after much emotional bothering, Shadow Milk drags Pure Vanilla and his captured friends (the game's actual protagonists) out onto the Spire roof, and he's like. Okay, I'm bored now so how about this: you give me the soul jam and I won't kill your friends! Pure Vanilla does as he's told... and then Shadow Milk throws his friends off the Spire anyway. Turns out this was another attempt to push Pure Vanilla, and it seems to work, as Pure Vanilla snaps-- and then he just. Says hey. Look at my soul jam before you take it. Look what you did. It's a second soul jam of Deceit now. You now have two soul jams of Deceit... and, and this is a verbatim quote, "Me, forever by your side."

Pure Vanilla basically pledges himself to Shadow Milk then, saying that he's the second Cookie of Deceit-- that he is now the same as Shadow Milk, that "we belong together." And Shadow Milk eats that shit RIGHT UP, he is THRILLED by the idea of it, so he lets Pure Vanilla keep his soul jam after all. The promise of having Pure Vanilla by his side eternally is enough to make him give up half of his power, forever.

And then of course it is revealed that sweet little Pure Vanilla... was LYING. His soul jam was consumed by Deceit, but Shadow Milk was the one he was deceiving! Turns out pledging himself to the other was an act to get close to him and get him to let his guard down so that Pure Vanilla could tap into Shadow Milk's OWN MAGIC and control it, basically shutting his ass down. Shadow Milk throws a GRAND MAL HISSY FIT about it, incredibly angry about being betrayed, and then Pure Vanilla has, I promise you, an honest to goodness magical girl transformation sequence and Awakens, becoming much more powerful and reclaiming his soul jam properly. He also takes advantage of the Spire's weirdass time-space properties to rescue his friends, so they're fine.

In the final scene of their story, Pure Vanilla confronts him, and says hey. When we became one then, when I was close enough to you that I could feel your feelings-- and Shadow Milk gets MAD and tries to interrupt before he can say anything else because he KNOWS what Pure Vanilla is about to reveal. But Pure Vanilla goes on and says. I know what's up with you. You're lonely. You're incredibly lonely and you want me with you. "You don't have to be lonely... I'm right here." And he offers a hand to him in friendship.

Shadow Milk responds by, for just a second, genuinely seeming touched, considering it... and then he snaps out of it and starts tearfully screaming at Pure Vanilla that he HATES HIM AND HIS SOUL JAM, FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME I HATE YOU. And then he and his minions LEAVE.

And. That is where the story leaves off for now. But yeah. Apparently the whole thing where Pure Vanilla pledges to stay with Shadow Milk forever, that they belong together, was, fully canonically, Pure Vanilla telling Shadow Milk what he knew he wanted to hear. He is desperately lonely and in pain, but he can't seem to handle being shown ACTUAL understanding and compassion.

So that is my sad gay clown blorbo. He's an insane asshole, and also an incredibly sad Cookie who is isolated and alone with the painful truths he holds, but the prospect of someone KNOWING that he feels that way is so fucking upsetting to him that he literally can't handle it. He's insane over Pure Vanilla, but too emotionally backwards to act normal about it or accept the other's care properly. He makes me feel sad and also deeply unwell. I glossed over a lot of details here that do add a lot to their story, but this post is already long enough and it could easily double in length if I went into EVERYTHING. But there you go. Have fun.

[alicepao13]

Apparently rooting for someone to cheat on their spouse is ultra progressive or something. That's what they're trying to turn it into. I won't lie, I wouldn't mind half of the RPF I've seen (not my cup of tea but I also wouldn't care to comment on it either) if they didn't try to justify the fact that they're into shipping filth, and also if they could distinguish reality from fiction which I don't think they can. Cheating is not okay, never will be. It's not the end of the world, but it's still immoral. Whoever doesn't understand that is either too juvenile for this discussion or a cheater themselves. Both these categories of people don't have a care for the person(s) who is being cheated, or in the second case, don't care until after they do it and see the emotional damage that they have caused (if that, I mean lots of people still don't care).

In any case, cheating should not be celebrated, rooted for, or otherwise encouraged to happen in real life by any person with a benevolent mind. I'm strictly speaking about real people here, not characters (fans can conjure up whatever they want with characters, this is not a kink-shaming post, it's real-life actions that have real-life implications). Also, anything RPF-related should be stuck to being in a corner of a fandom, far away from the real life people it pertains to. It should not be (as it lately happens) in the same space where those people are. There are spaces like ao3 where RPF can live freely. Tumblr, even. Twitter is not such a space. Instagram either.

Sadly, we live in an age where fans love making up stuff like RPF. It has evolved into a whole thing, I still remember how it was when such people were shunned from their own fandom for liking RPF. Maybe that wasn't right either, but what's happening now definitely isn't right and the fans who are doing it should seriously consider how their actions are affecting real people who are not characters in a show.

How many people here think you are "obsessed with the sanctity of marriage" if you don't want an actor man you like to cheat on his wife of 30 years with his costar so your ship would get some weird type of validation thru this (apparently)?

[starssoblue]

"the reason adrien is just instantly good at everything he tries is because he is programmed to be that way as a senti" aside from the fact that i don't think that's how it works (and also while he was decent at everything he tried with marinette he wasn't instantly good at all of them, and what marinette actually said to him was that he could improve in anything with practice but it was a great first attempt) did we all collectively forget about how adrien actually canonically isn't the best singer?

[faunandfloraas]

Seungmin saying they changed song by so it would be easier for people to watch and listen and then me seeing people going "Yes! It's good it's on tiktok and shorts now" and I'm like. Oh. You're all so fucking stupid <3

[wonder-worker]

"[Elizabeth Woodville] was the only member of [Crown Prince Edward of Westminster's] original 1471 council not already on the king’s council and her name headed the list of those appointed as administrators in Wales during Edward’s minority. [She remained on the council after it was expanded in 1473 and granted additional governing and judicial powers]."

"In 1478 Prince Richard married the Mowbray heiress. Like his elder brother he had a chancellor, seal, household and council to manage his estates. His council, like that of Prince Edward, comprised the queen [Elizabeth Woodville] and a group of magnates and bishops, few of whom were Woodville supporters. [...] It was Elizabeth who mattered, for Richard resided with her and Rivers treated his affairs as their own."

— J.L. Laynesmith, The Last Medieval Queens: English Queenship 1445-1503 / Michael Hicks, Richard III and his Rivals: Magnates and their Motives in the Wars of the Roses

[blackcatxmagic]

It was so easy to flirt with Dante, and the truth was that it improved Vale's mood significantly. Most of the time, the weight of what happened felt unbearable, even in the quiet moments when his rage and grief were both barely audible, when Vale felt empty and flat. But sometimes he could just act like everyone else, could flirt with a cute guy and not be the guy burdened by tragedy - tragedy of his own making, which made it even worse. Smirking at Dante, Vale nodded and confirmed, "Yeah, we just might." And that was all he said. He had no idea if this would even lead to anything, but flirting was fun, and it got him out of his head. It was clear that Dante really loved his car, and Vale admitted, "A lot of that doesn't mean much to me because I'm...not exactly a car guy. I honestly only drive because I have to." If Vale could, he'd stop driving altogether, and that was the good thing about Seattle, the fact that there had been other options. And he could walk to places in Cardinal Hill, but who had the time for that? "She sounds awesome though," he went on. "I bet you worked hard on her." He could tell by the way Dante talked that he had put a lot of effort and love into the vehicle.

As he listened to Dante's story about Jesse, Vale just started laughing. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm not laughing at you or what almost happened to your car. That's just...so unbelievably Jesse. I can picture it so clearly." He laughed a little more, full of fondness for his brother. It was funny how that was hard to show the man himself while it was abundantly clear with someone else. "I bet he cooked you some of those wieners though, didn't he?" Vale mused. "And yeah...style's one way to describe it. He's one of a kind." Again, Vale thought about how much he cared about his brother and how impossible it felt to show Jesse that. "You should come to the ranch sometime," Vale suggested. "We can give him shit together. He'll act like he doesn't like it, but I think secretly he'll enjoy the banter. He's too serious all the time." Of course some days Vale was even worse, a dark storm cloud hovering low in the sky as a looming threat of rain and lightning, but on days like this, he felt like the sun had peeked through a bit. And that made this kind of day perfect to fuck with his brother. Dante would have to come to the ranch on a day like this.

The comment about being a racing man did give Vale pause. Driving a car was terrifying enough for him, but racing one? Well...that was so much more dangerous than necessary. Admittedly Vale didn't love that about Dante, but the guy wasn't asking him to join, so he brushed it away and focused on the way he kept calling him adorable. "I'd offer to take you to the mud puddle so you could see it for yourself, but I'm worried that'll make me too irresistible," Vale teased. "So I'm adorable, I'm trouble, and I'm danger, hmm? I'm a complex man, it seems." It was obvious that Dante liked the French, and seeing his reaction just spurred Vale on. "J'adore ton sourire," Vale said, once more getting the inflection and accent just right. Yeah, he was definitely glad to have a French father in this moment.

Things got a little heavy though when Vale talked about Seattle. Glancing over at Dante (though only for a second, not wanting to take his eyes off the road for too long), Vale felt like Dante understood what he meant. But he didn't want to linger, so Vale just moved past it. "Wow, so this is about as different as you can get," he said. "Well...I guess a place like Alaska would be even more jarring, but still, this is definitely not the desert." Vale liked it in the Pacific Northwest; it served his melancholy mood better than the desert would most likely. At the comment about his hair, Vale laughed, though the truth was that he had gotten comments like this before. "First of all, your hair looks great," Vale said, and without even thinking about it, he reached over and brushed his fingers through Dante's. Okay, what the fuck was that, Valentino? he thought. Not acknowledging it, Vale went on, "And second, the secret is a good hair product. Even if it costs a little more, trust me, it's so worth it." For a moment, he just smiled, thinking about Dante's comment, and then he said, "So...you like my hair, hmm?"

A couple of minutes later, they reached the restaurant, Vale parking on the street in front of it. "I'm like suddenly ravenous," he said, getting out of the car and walking over to Dante's side.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A low whistle escaped his lips, a wide grin breaking across his face. “Oh, we might, huh?” he said, drawing out the words just a little, leaning back in the seat like he had all the time in the world to enjoy the game. He turned his head to the window for a second, but the grin stuck around, and when (well, he was pretty sure he heard something about it) Vale asked about his car, Dante perked right back up. “She’s a beaut. ‘87 Buick Regal, real pretty. Real nice.” The Buick wasn’t the car he typically raced around in, but it was the car he had the accident in. Still, Dante loved it, and wouldn’t give it up for the world, especially after all the effort he’d put into it to make it look nice again.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Well, you been to that drive in? The theater?” He asked, turning to look at the other, eyes locked on his lips again. “I pulled in early, wantin’ a good spot, and your bro parked right up on my ass. Got out a fuckin’ fire barrel and just started lightin’ up weiners.” He sighed, shaking his head, but his eyes had some light behind him. “Gotta admit though, it was a solid night. He’s got… style, I’ll give him that.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His eyebrows perked up when Vale mentioned that happiness could be foreign to him, and Dante knew enough about body language and cues to shrug off whatever he might have said. Instead, he focused on the flirting, and the way the other’s face turned red. Vale’s comment about being trouble got another grin out of him. “Oh, I know you’re trouble,” Dante replied, voice full of mischief. “Spotted that a mile away. I’m a racin’ man, I like a little danger.” Then, he clicked his tongue again, and said, “Yeah, adorable.” He laughed. He liked Vale, he decided. He liked when someone shot the shit back with him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He chuckled at being called gentilhomme, and the fact that Vale said it with the perfect French inflection made Dante’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Damn, I like the sound of that. Classy.” As the car rolled down the quiet street, Dante relaxed deeper into the seat, one arm resting along the door, the other draped loose across his lap. Despite being a stock-car racer, Dante never drove past the speed limit. Not anymore. So he wasn’t too bothered by Vale’s driving, and, truthfully, didn’t even notice it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Vale’s quiet answer about Seattle made him look down, but he didn’t push. He got that. Really got that. “Yeah,” he said after a beat, “sometimes you do.” He let the silence stretch before continuing, “Nah, I’m not from here. Albuquerque. Born and raised. Desert kid, through and through.” He tapped his temple lightly. “Heat’s baked into my brain. There’s so much fuckin’ rain out here, though. My hairs all wavy and shit, I don’t know what to do with it.” His face scrunched up as he ran a hand through his hair. “You got any tips, curly boy?”

[airandangels]

You know how sometimes someone tells an anecdote from their childhood in a manner that suggests that while they see it was not cool, they have not yet begun to process how fucked up it actually was?

That's the opening anecdote in Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams.