#this never fails in make me feel POWERFUL

[utilitycaster]

I follow someone who peaced out of C3 like a month ago, and while she still throws out the occasional post about it, despite mostly running on ✨vibes✨ since pre-Predathos fight. one of her latest takes caught my attention. The wording was a little messy, but the core argument seemed like it might have a point. She’s saying the biggest issue with the story is a lack of internal logic, which makes the characters feel kind of disconnected from their own world and setting. Her main example was the Schism, like, the general idea that the Titans were bad news for mortals should be widely accepted, and they’re dead so they’re not coming back even if the gods leave. She also argues that the idea that the gods would always choose each other over mortals isn’t really backed up by history. Basically, she thinks Bells Hells ignore some of the fundamental structures of modern religion in Exandria, which in turn makes a lot of their arguments about the gods fall apart.

So I guess I’m wondering does it seem like there’s a lack of internal logic to you? C3 is my first campaign, so I’ve been piecing together older lore as I go, and I can’t tell if this is a niche take or if there’s some bigger context I’m missing.

Yes. Or rather, I have a couple of different guesses as to what happened. In short: I think that either Matt wanted to set up a big dilemma and failed to do the worldbuilding to really support it textually; he didn't have a clear vision of what this would be at all (HUGE fucking mistake, like, actually concerning me re: the potential of a 4th campaign level of mistake and I hope it's not that); or, alternately, and honestly right now my guess is that this was the case, he straight up did not think the characters would be such selfish dickbags and thought going in that this would be a clear "we have to stop Predathos" and intended the familial connections within the Vanguard and the scene in Hearthdell to be added nuance to provide some understanding of the Vanguard not as simply mindless evil monsters but people who have genuine grievances that have been exploited by predatory cult leaders, and was not prepared for a campaign where the party immediately took the Vanguard's side.

Religion in Exandria has never been super formalized or organized. Some of this is, of course, that you don't have to like, convert or even attend services if you have a relationship with a god. But as a result, it means that any exploration of religion as hegemonic falls apart. I am not saying religion needs to fit the regular daily or weekly practices many people irl have (depending on one's levels of observance), and those characters whose powers canonically involve a deity often do observe either restrictions (Caduceus's vegetarianism) or have some form of meditative personal worship, but we never see like, a system of worship outside of Vasselheim, and Vasselheim lacks the powers that the real-world pope has (let alone the medieval era pope). Tuldus was forced by his family to pray, but it's never depicted as part of How All Worshipers of That God are expected to behave. This is really the crux of a lot of problems with this campaign - people keep taking very individualized issues - which are real, but individual - and treating them as a sign of widespread oppression that simply isn't backed up by the text. In fact, the biggest case of widespread religiously-involved oppression is the Empire going after worshipers of illegal Prime Deities (as we see with the Schuesters - the parents are arrested, leaving their young children to fend for themselves) - and the biggest case of widespread proselytizing and missionary work is from the canonically theocratic (and ruled by one person for over a millennium) Kryn Dynasty, which, hilariously, might end up even more powerful given that the Luxon - the source of their religion, their philosophy and cultural practices, and their arcane prowess - has been brought up as relevant to the gods-become-mortal plan by the Raven Queen and seems to not be under any threat from Predathos, and might even get more powerful. Vasselheim's colonial efforts, while certainly not defensible, are small potatoes.

The player character's grievances against the gods all boil down to "I prayed to the gods and they didn't make my life better" while failing to consider that a combination of genuinely wild specific personal circumstances (being Ruidusborn; being the child of an elemental-worship cult with terrible instincts and later running a heist on a Vanguard collaborator; being a shadow sorcerer who caught the eye of an evil Vecna-worshipping wizard in need of a host body) are the root cause. It's like. If your parents kick you out for being gay, that's homophobia, but if your parents are part of a cult that blows itself up and you are orphaned as a result that is not systemic oppression, that is a very specific cult and shitty parents. So that fails to really ground them in the setting. Compare to campaign 2, where Caleb wants to ensure the Volstrucker program is brought to light and eliminated - as he says, no more children on the pyre - vs. here, where arguably Laudna and Ashton are opening the door to far more unregulated cult/evil necromancy shenanigans now entirely unmitigated by the gods. At least Imogen will probably end the Ruidusborn I guess, as a side effect completely unrelated to her actual goals (which are, frankly, unclear) In a campaign that talks about tethers, the characters seem untethered to anything - institution, place, even for the most part family, and only loosely to each other, and it shows in their lack of care.

The other part is that yeah, a lot of things that were given to the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina as "things people would know" aren't given to Bells Hells. Now this could have a mechanical basis, namely, no one has much of a formal education and most of them are also not terribly intelligent on their own. However, it does feel baffling that they can't recognize holy symbols, or don't know the story of the titans at the time of the Schism (which...setting aside the many issues with the concept of "history is written by the victors" which is both inconsistently true in the first place and is frequently used in an anti-intellectual manner to undermine historical study that points out such things as historical racism; just because history might be inaccurate that does not mean that wild speculation otherwise is necessarily true, especially since we do know from EXU Calamity that titans did, indeed, intend to side with the Betrayers against mortals at the start of the Calamity). It furthers this feeling, after Vox Machina being relatively educated even in a story that was not as worldbuilding-focused, and the Mighty Nein having multiple research-oriented characters and a party deeply rooted in a rich world, that Bells Hells feel off and adrift and ignorant, especially since they don't even seem to remember history they lived through such as the Apex War.

Honestly, what I think is most interesting actually is that we don't ever get anyone express a motivation based on structural oppression in-game. Ludinus never got over his parents dying in a war where the options for the Prime Deities were leave mortals to die or fight the Betrayers, knowing there will be devastating casualties, but in setting up his elaborate plot he murdered countless people, destroyed through his communing with Predathos the first rebuilt elven society in Western Wildemount, and participated in actual structural oppression within the Dwendalian empire for literal centuries; he cared not for any widespread liberation and would remain on top, as an archmage, after this imagined revolution, which makes it not much of a revolution worth having. Liliana's problems were caused by Predathos, and many of the Vanguard we see are Ruidusborn. The only other Vanguard we really get to talk to are Bor'Dor, who was oppressed on the basis of his religion and preyed upon by the cult; Tuldus, who see above; and various Paragon's Call members who are mostly just following orders and getting paid. And Bells Hells, when they have the audience of Vasselheim and the rest of the world - a golden opportunity to call out the colonialism - fail to bring up Hearthdell.

In the end, the motivations are all personal pain - in many cases, inflicted, in fact, by Predathos and not the gods - or vengeance. I honestly don't know if the narrative is trying to claim there is something deeper, or if it's simply some of the characters and a chunk of the least knowledgeable fans, but yes, the worldbuilding fails to support a morally complex narrative. It fails to debunk that which was established earlier (and indeed makes the fall of Aeor far more sympathetic than when it was introduced during Campaign 2) and fails to establish any widespread harm the gods did that wasn't the result of someone threatening to kill them. I do not think one can meaningfully debate with someone who puts a boot on your throat, presses down, and claims you're the oppressor when you fight back, nor with someone who argues along those lines, and that's all that fans and Bells Hells have ever done. And yeah we might actually make a world with a formalized hegemonic religion as a result of Bells Hells' actions; it just will be a different god, underscoring that this is either motivated by people who don't know what the fuck is going on; or by vengeance rather than justice.

[justwinginglife]

Better Half

“Hey- the Colonel’s hungry. Get him a sandwich or something. Better yet, make it a steak dinner. Actually, make it two.”

You barked orders to a passerby and the confused but obedient soldier threw out a quick salute in response before scurrying away to do your bidding. By now, he knew better than to question you (they all did); it was common knowledge that any command you gave, no matter how bizarre or seemingly random, was to be followed immediately if one wanted to avoid risking your wrath. Even Caleb was only half immune to this rule.

Once, you advised him to flank the left side of the enemy and he’d flanked the right instead. Besides the ground sliding out from beneath him because the right sight of the field had softened significantly more than the left due to recent weather conditions, he also had to suffer the consequences of your cold shoulder for the next week. Now he only disregarded you when he wanted to tease you; he’d never risk doing it out on the field again. You were many things, but you were almost never wrong when it came to battle strategy and that made you invaluable to him. At least, that’s what made you invaluable to him at first. As time went by, you became so much more to him than just sound advice.

You turned to face your superior only to see him attempting to stifle his snickers with a gloved hand. “Did I say something funny, Colonel?”

He attempted to clear his throat but it was to no avail. The slight shake in his shoulders gave him away. “It’s nothing- at ease, soldier.”

You stared at him, unamused.

Realizing it was futile, he finally let himself laugh aloud. “The Colonel is hungry, huh? Last time I checked, I was the Colonel. And I’m not hungry.”

You crossed your arms stubbornly. “You’ll be hungry soon; you always eat around this time anyway. And besides, I’m hungry.”

He smirked. “Are you telling me you’re throwing my name around just to get yourself a free dinner? Tell me, my oh-so-lovely-adjutant, does that sound like abuse of power to you?”

“Nope. Like I said, you’re going to get hungry here soon anyway.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

His stomach growled right on cue.

You raised a brow at him as if to say “I told you so.”

He laughed again, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Who knew you had my eating schedule all memorized?” He nudged you playfully with his elbow and you couldn’t help but relax slightly at his familiar touch, biting back a smile.

You knew he was supposed to be your boss, but he’d always made you feel more like equals than anything else. You were always the first person he greeted when he walked into work, and you were the only person he bid farewell to when he left. He kept you at his side almost constantly, seeking advice when he needed it, or simply company when he wanted it. This line of work could be gruesome at times, but somehow he felt that life was a little less gray when you were there to make him laugh.

Sometimes you’d pretend you were the only one who could make him open up like this. If anyone had seen the two of you at work, they would’ve agreed. To anyone else in the Farspace Fleet, he was the Colonel- calm, cool, collected. To you, he was Caleb- silly, stubborn, sensitive. Sometimes you’d even pretend he was your Caleb. But then you’d see that damn necklace around his neck and that familiar pain would trickle back into your chest like a poison seeping into your veins.

He wasn’t yours. He was never yours. He was… hers.

Every time he left for Linkon, every time he gave you that mock salute before grinning widely and telling you to “hold down the fort” until his return, every time he waved at you as he boarded the train, you felt your heart sink more and more. You wondered if maybe one of these days, he just wouldn’t come back. If maybe he’d run off with her, marry her. And then he’d forget all about you.

It wasn’t until he bounded off the train with a souvenir in hand for you ( he got you one every single time, without fail, whether he was gone for a day or a week), that you felt you could breathe again. It wasn’t until he was in the passenger seat of your car, letting you drive him home, listening to an album you’d both discovered together, that you felt you could relax again. It wasn’t until he was making you dinner in his home, the way he always did as thanks for picking him up, that you felt you could finally forget about her for a moment.

But it didn’t help that he always wore that damn thing everywhere he went. Even now, as you waited for the soldier to bring you and Caleb dinner, you couldn’t help but glare at the stupid hunk of metal. What an ugly design- she couldn’t have picked something more classy? It was the most unrefined thing he owned; you were sure you would’ve picked something more suited to him had you been given the chance. But you knew he’d never give you the chance.

Without meaning to, you let out a small sigh as you sank into your desk beside him.

“I don’t plan to return to Linkon anytime soon.”

You froze in your chair. Had he really caught on that quickly? You must not have been as subtle as you’d thought. “What do you mean?” You asked nonchalantly.

“That sigh. You always sigh like that whenever I say I’m going to Linkon. Well, I have no intention of making any visits in the near future.”

You had only meant to glance over at him briefly but when your eyes met his, you found it impossible to look away. You reminded yourself to breathe. “You’re not? How come?”

“No reason to.” He shrugged.

Bullshit. He had a reason. He had a good fucking reason and you hated it. You hated her. Without ever knowing her personally, without ever meaning to, you’d begun to hate her for the simple act of having him. “Oh really? No one to visit?” You asked innocently.

He chuckled. “Just say it if you’re gonna think it.”

“Think what?”

He raised a brow at you. “Really? We’re gonna play that game? Fine, I’m good at games. What should we play, 21 questions? Shall I guess what’s bothering you?” He moved to pinch your cheek and laughed when you swatted him away.

You could tell he was about to press the issue so you were grateful when the soldier finally returned with your meals. “Eat.” You commanded Caleb.

He saluted you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You ate in silence, but you could feel him sneaking glances at you. You didn’t dare reciprocate the eye contact for fear you’d never be able to look away.

“Hey.” The sudden solemnity in his voice surprised you.

“What is it?” You picked at your food some more as you waited for him to speak.

“Would you say I’m… needed?” His voice cracked slightly.

Well now you had to look at him. Just what on earth was going on in his head? You were just talking about Linkon, and now he was breaking out some existential philosophy? “Needed as in what?”

He winced. “Never mind.”

“No, I’m serious. As in what? As in the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel? Or as in Caleb?”

He picked at the edge of his desk. “I dunno. Both, I guess.”

“Honestly?”

He hesitated and then nodded slowly.

“The Farspace Fleet has never been more impressive in its entire history than it’s been under your command. But does it need you? No. So if you wanted to do something else, be something else, you could. You could do anything you wanted.”

“And… Caleb?”

You smiled warmly. “I’ll always need Caleb. He owes me a date, by the way; if you see him, tell him he’s not allowed to bail on me like he did last time; concert tickets are nonrefundable and expensive, and his oh-so-lovely-adjutant doesn’t make as much money as he does.”

He cracked a smile. “Caleb doesn’t get a break even when he’s sick, huh? Alright, I’ll be sure to tell him. No one messes with the Colonel’s adjutant, after all.”

And just like that, you were back to normal.

“He really did bring us steak dinners,” Caleb laughed as he cut up his food.

“I said steak, didn’t I? You should know better than anyone there’s consequences when you don’t listen to me.” You wagged your finger at him in warning and it only made him laugh harder.

“When I brought you on as my adjutant, I didn’t think I’d be hiring a comedian as well. Tell me- do you play venues or am I the sole viewer of your comedy act?” He teased.

“Neither. Both would imply I’m getting paid to be funny and unfortunately I am not. Unless you’d like to add my humor to your bill.” You winked at him.

He shook his head, grinning. “Unfortunately, my dear, I don’t think the Farspace Fleet can afford such quality humor. Will you accept payment in Caleb’s homemade dinners instead?”

Your eyes lit up. “Absolutely! Tastes better than this shit anyway.” You gestured to the food before you.

He chuckled. “You’re the one who made a big deal out of requesting it and now you don’t like it? So hard to please.”

“This steak is so well done, you’d think a crematory cooked it. I like Caleb’s medium rare steak much better.” You made a point out of chomping aggressively on the chewy hunk of meat.

He shook his head, grinning. Then he glanced down and began to poke the food around his plate, and you knew it was time to ask.

“So why wouldn’t you be needed?”

He choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“You asked if you were needed and it was right after we were talking about your visits to Linkon. Did something happen?” You knew this was a sensitive topic, but you also knew him. He’d beat around the bush until the day he died. He’d tell you a million things, but never how he felt. He’d allude to it, dance around it, but never outright say it. Not unless you dragged it out of him.

“Not… not really.” He cleared his throat and continued to jab at his food with his fork. There it was. The famous Caleb avoidance tactic.

“You get into a fight with her or something?”

He bit his lip. “Nothing gets by you, huh? Yeah… something like that.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re not doing that shit with me, Caleb. She might let you get away with it, but I won’t. You know damn well I won’t. Come on- spill.” You demanded.

He gave you a sheepish look. “I’m fine, really.”

“You start getting all existential on me about if you’re needed and then you tell me you’re fine? You think I don’t know you any better?” You were starting to get annoyed, but you took a deep breath, trying to be patient with him. You knew this was hard for him. “It’s me, silly. I won’t tell anyone. Hell, I didn’t even tell anyone you cried during that dog movie.”

He snorted. “It died! It’s not my fault I cried. They make those movies specifically so you cry.”

You laughed and nudged him with your elbow. “So, if I can keep a secret about the all powerful Colonel of the Farspace Fleet blubbering like a baby, I can surely listen to you rant about your girl for one minute. C’mon. Let loose.”

He hesitated but then he gave in the way he always did when you persisted like this. “She… she said she didn’t need me anymore. She said she could take care of herself. She didn’t like the way I’ve been ‘acting’ now that I’m Colonel. I was just… I was just trying to protect her the… the only way I know how.” His fork clattered onto the plate as pain flashed across his eyes. “Anyway, point is, she doesn’t want me around anymore. So I’m… I’m here.”

Your brow twitched. “I’m sorry- the fuck does she mean she doesn’t need you? What, she thinks she’s all grown now and doesn’t need anybody? Even adults need to lean on each other sometimes, getting older doesn’t mean you stop relying on others. She’s too immature; only immature people go around claiming that they’ve ‘matured’ and don’t need help anymore. I’m telling you Caleb, I’ve been telling you, you seriously need someone older.” You paused to see how he was taking your ranting. He only listened in silence.

You set a hand on top of his and very gently said, “I could blow up her house if you wanted.”

That made him smile a little. “You know that’s not what I want. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I know, I know. You’re too good to people sometimes, Caleb. I think between the two of us, I’m the meaner one. I’d march right up to her -if you’d let me- and tell her exactly what I thought of her bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. You’re definitely the better one out of the two of us. You don’t… you don’t know the things that I’ve…”

“What- the things that you’ve done? Honey, I’m your partner in crime. The things you’ve done, I’ve done them with you.”

“But you don’t know what I… what I tried to do to her.” He admitted weakly.

“So lay it on me. What’s so scary that you think you can’t tell me?”

“I told her-” He swallowed, eyes darting away from yours. “That I’d lock her up to keep her safe. That it’d be safer for her by my side.”

“And?”

His eyes flicked back up to yours, wondering if he misheard you. “What do you mean, and?”

“And what else? Was that it?”

He huffed slightly, but there was no annoyance in his voice. “Of course you would think that’s fine.”

“But you’re right though. There is no safer place in the world than by your side. Besides the fact that you’ve got the coolest superpower in the world (seriously- it’s such a cheat), and that you’re a great fighter, you also just have the sway that comes with being the Colonel. She’d be an idiot to not realize that. Yeah, sure, you could’ve maybe worded the whole ‘lock you up’ thing better, but it’s like you said; you were only doing the best you could in the only way you knew how. I wouldn’t fault you for that.”

He stared at you for a moment. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You gave him a wink. “Absolutely batshit, thank you.”

He laughed. “How is it that you always know how to make me feel better?”

“Umm, maybe because I’m the best adjutant in the world and you should pay me more?” You teased, nudging him again.

He snorted. “You wish. But seriously. Thanks. I needed that.”

You nodded. “Now, let’s go get drunk and talk about how much women suck. I’ll buy.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “But… you’re a woman. And you don’t drink. And you’re broke.”

You shrugged. “But my best friend drinks and he looks like he could use a drink and a good, old ranting session. And again, if you just paid me more, I wouldn’t be so broke.” You grinned unabashedly.

He took in the sight of your grin and couldn’t help but smile himself. You always had the brightest of smiles. It was damn near impossible to be upset around you.

The two of you soon found your way to a bar; Caleb specifically picked one near his house because he was sure he’d have to carry you home drunk. You insisted that you weren’t that much of a lightweight and even proposed a drinking competition but by the time you’d gotten one and a half drinks in, you were already dozing off in his arms. He chuckled as he gazed down at you fondly. Signaling to the bartender to close out his tab, he scooped you up in his arms and walked you to his house.

When he got inside, he laid you on his bed and simply watched you for a moment. He was tempted to crawl up beside you, as he was sure you wouldn’t mind, but then he thought better of it. He’d sleep on the couch instead. He turned to leave, but then decided instead to bend down and kiss the top of your head before whispering, “Thanks again for tonight. I had fun.”

He began to pull away, but before he could get too far, you latched onto him in your sleep and yanked him into bed beside you. He tensed up, unsure of what to do in this situation, but the sound of your even, happy breathing made his heart lurch in his chest. He could listen to it all night. He probably would be listening to it all night, because he wasn’t sure he could sleep with how tightly you were clinging to him. Did you even know what you were doing?

“Caleb…” You murmured in your sleep, nuzzling even closer to him.

He covered his mouth to stifle his chuckle. Yeah, you totally knew what you were doing. What was he going to do with you?

He brushed your hair to the side gently, wanting to get a better look at your slumbering face. You were adorable, there was no other way to put it. He wasn’t sure why he was thinking these things, as he was sure he would never dare to in broad daylight, but somehow, as you dozed off beside him, your perfume soaking into his shirt, he couldn’t help but enjoy it. Enjoy you.

He wondered if things could’ve been different, if you would’ve been the only one in his heart and in his bed like this, had he grown up in Skyhaven like you had. Would you have gone to school together? Would you have sat beside him? Would you have had lunch with him? Would he have had the nerve to ask you to the prom? He shook his head, laughing softly to himself. Probably not. He was plenty outgoing, but a pretty girl like you? He’d choke over his own words. It seemed he never had enough nerve when it came to matters of the heart. All he ever did was hold back how he was feeling and what he was thinking. But not… not with you.

His brows furrowed suddenly at the realization. Did he have a single secret from you? He swore he only had the one, and you’d just coaxed it out of him only hours ago. Now that he thought about it, you were the only person who truly knew him. The only one he shared everything with. Of course, he had someone he loved, someone he’d loved his whole life, but even she didn’t know all of his secrets. You were the only one he told them to. You were the… the only one he wanted to tell them to.

He tensed up again. How could he let this happen? This couldn’t happen. Besides the fact that he was already in love with someone, he shouldn’t have been sharing so much with one person anyway. You could betray him, you could leave him, or even worse, you could hate him. One day, he could share too much, and you would never look at him the same way again. And he couldn’t stand that.

Carefully, he pulled your arms off of him and made his way to the living room. He stared at the ceiling until sleep eventually took him.

In the morning, he woke up with a blanket around him. He blinked, still groggy from sleep. He hadn’t remembered to grab himself a blanket, where did it…

Suddenly he heard the soft sound of an inhale and an exhale, then another inhale and exhale. He quickly turned on his side. There you were, sleeping on the floor. You’d given him the blanket he’d had on his bed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. What the hell were you doing? Why were you on the floor? Didn’t he leave you in the bedroom? How long had you been here? He hoped to god you hadn’t been here long, otherwise you might get a cold from the lack of a blanket. He quickly scooped you up in his arms, attempting to settle you on the couch where he had previously been laying, so that he could wrap you up in the blanket, but you slowly began to stir.

“C-Caleb? What’re you-” You rubbed your eyes. “What’re you doin?”

He sighed. “What am I doing? What are you doing, why were you sleeping on the floor when I clearly put you on the bed, huh?”

You gave him a sleepy smile. “That’s an easy one. Cuz it’s your house. You should get the bed, silly. I tried to wake you up to get you to come to bed, but you were knocked out. Was like talking to a pile of bricks. So I brought you the blanket and slept on the floor.” You said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

He groaned. “You dork, I put you on the bed on purpose. How long have you been sleeping out here with no blanket on?”

“I dunno… couple hours?” You sat up slowly.

He rested his hand on your forehead, brow creased with concern.

“Watcha doin?”

“Making sure you’re not sick or something, cuz you slept in the cold like a dumbass.”

You grinned. “And? What’s my diagnosis, doc?”

“You’re not sick; you’re just stupid.” He flicked you in the forehead.

You laughed. “Good morning to you too, Cap’n Cranky.”

“Morning, goofball. I said I owe you one of Caleb’s homemade meals, right? How ‘bout I make you breakfast? I’ll make it nice and warm to make up for you sleepin in the cold.”

You straightened in excitement, nodding your head enthusiastically.

He cracked a smile and then got to work cooking.

No matter how many times you’d watched Caleb cook, you never got tired of it. You loved the way he expertly diced his vegetables, the way every cube was the same size. You loved the way he flicked his wrist out and flipped the pan. You loved the way he’d dip a pinky into the sauce to taste its flavor. You loved the way he hummed to himself when he got really into it. You loved everything about him.

“You know, I think I just might be your biggest fan, Chef Caleb.” You called out.

He grinned. “Only cuz I bribe you with my food. You wouldn’t like me so much if I didn’t feed you.”

“Hey- that’s not true. I’d like you no matter what.” You declared.

You might’ve imagined it, but you swore you saw him hesitate for a moment.

“Caleb?”

He blinked and his smile returned. “Sorry, spaced out.”

You stared at him carefully.

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “What? Why’re you staring?”

“Caleb, it’s too early to be doing this.”

“Doing what?” He asked innocently as he stirred the pot.

“To be hiding things. You know you can’t hide things from me, you have a terrible poker face.”

“Hey- I have a great poker face, I’ll have you know.” He said, putting a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“Says the guy who is trying to avoid the topic by continuing to talk about poker faces.” You retorted.

He sighed and turned the stove off. “Fine, fine. I should know better by now, nothing gets past you. I was just… I was just thinking last night about some things.”

You sighed. “Caleb. You’re going to have to elaborate on ‘some things.””

“I know, I’m getting there. It’s just… do you think… there would ever be a day when you don’t like me anymore?” He asked quietly.

You snorted. “Nope. Never.”

“But what if… what if I did something really bad? What if I hurt you?”

“I’d forgive you.”

“But what if I hurt someone you care about?”

“You’re the only person I care about.”

“But what if-”

“Caleb, where is this all coming from? What’s going on? Don’t you trust me?” You cut him off suddenly. You could tell he was starting to spiral.

He winced. “I do… it’s just… sometimes I think I’m not cut out to have any sort of close relationship with anyone. My… my hands are far too stained with blood and I-”

“Well, if I stain my hands right beside you, who’s to say whose blood it is?”

His eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“I’m saying, I’ll hold your hand no matter what. I’ll stand by you no matter what. I don’t care what you do, I don’t care what you’ve done, I don’t care what you’re going to do. You’re stuck with me. If you’re in it, I’m in it too.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. “You dork, is this why you left the bed last night?”

He tensed up. “You… you knew I was lying with you?”

“Yeah and you were warm and then you left and it was cold. So it’s your fault if I get sick.”

“I just said you weren’t sick,” He grumbled, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t bottle your feelings up again, okay? Just tell me if you’re feeling down. I don’t care if I’m asleep, I don’t care if I’m mid-shit, I will drop anything and everything for you.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t interrupt you if you were mid-shit,” He laughed. “But I will keep that in mind… thanks. I really do appreciate it. You… you have no idea what it means to me to know that you’re there for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you. And my offer still stands; I will totally blow up her house if you ever want me to. I never liked her anyway.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “What’s with you and explosions? I really will have to keep you in line, won’t I?”

“Keep me in line? Who’s the one who flanked right when I said left and went down the hill in a landslide?” You raised a brow at him.

He groaned, palming his face with a hand. “I said I was sorry, how many times you gonna keep bringing that up?”

“As many times as it takes for you to know that I’m always right.”

“Yeah, yeah- you’re always right, eat your damn breakfast.” He laughed as he shoved a bowl of food at you and directed you to his dining room. Then he slid into a chair beside you, nudging you gently with his arm.

The two of you ate in silence but it was a comfortable silence. The kind you can relax in when you know the other person is waiting for you on the other side of that silence. The kind you can only enjoy when you truly cherish the company you have.

“This is nice; I should bother you for breakfast more.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Is that right? What should I charge you for in return?”

“Is my undying attention not enough?”

“Undying attention is pretty good. But my home cooked meals are a hefty price. How about your undying attention and no more secrets between the two of us?”

You stared at him curiously. “We already have no secrets.”

“I think we have a grand total of one.”

“One? That’s one I’ve never heard of.”

“You still haven’t told me why you get upset every time I go to Linkon.”

You choked on your porridge. “Upset? I don’t get upset. The weather is just terrible there and I don’t want you to get sick.”

He raised a brow at you. “Now who’s got a bad poker face?”

“I think we should have no secrets except for my one. It’ll be the only exception. And then no secrets after that.” You mumbled in between bites. You were now feeling the need to stuff your cheeks so full that it was physically impossible to answer him. God, your behavior was ridiculous, and you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself. How was it that you could control an entire fleet and yet you couldn’t control your own feelings? You weren’t even sure you could control your face right now. You were sure your cheeks were as red as the sunrise.

“What’s so big a deal about your one secret? I told you I was willing to lock someone up for the rest of their life, and your secret is worse than that?”

You nodded quickly. “Oh my god, so much worse.”

He crossed his arms, unconvinced.

“You’ll honestly never look at me the same way again, I think it’s probably for the best if we keep this one under wraps.” You said weakly. You didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

“You said you’d like me no matter what. Well, I’m the same way with you. I’ll like you no matter what.”

“That’s-” You cleared your throat. “Kinda the issue.” You mumbled under your breath.

He tilted his head towards you, straining to hear your last words. “What did you say?”

“I said I need a tissue. Too much porridge. Messy stuff.” For good measure, you let some of it drip down your lip, shrugging your shoulders as if to say “What can you do?”

He rolled his eyes before grabbing a napkin. You thought he’d just hand it to you but instead he gently wiped the porridge from your face. His fingers brushed against your lips once. Then twice. Then again.

“Um… I think you got it.” You blushed.

“How long are we going to keep doing this?” He murmured, eyes fixed on the fingers that were still caressing your lips.

You swallowed. “Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Your eyes widened and you pulled away suddenly, standing up straight instead. “Anyway-I-think-everything-is-going-to-work-out-great-your-girl-will-be-over-herself-in-no-time-at-all-and-you’ll-be-back-in-Linkon-before-you-know-it-okay-great-talk-I’m-gonna-go-wash-my-dishes-now-thank-you-so-much-for-the-meal.” You blurted out hurriedly before escaping to the kitchen.

“This is my house, you know. You can’t run and hide from me!” He called from the dining room, his voice getting louder as he made his way towards you.

“Not hiding!” You called back.

“Bullshit.” His arms wrapped around your waist, turning you to face him. He backed you against the kitchen counter. “Tell me the truth.”

You flinched. “I can’t.”

“You can, you just won’t. But if you’re gonna go and bottle up your feelings, then I can too, right?” His voice dropped to a low tone, almost like he was threatening you with his own feelings.

You sighed. “Fine. Fine, no secrets. But just… could you turn around and look the other way? I can’t say it when you’re looking at me like that.”

“No- you made me spill my guts to your face yesterday. It’s only fair you do the same.”

“Caleb!” You whined.

“No. Come on. Just tell me. I promise that whatever it is, it won’t make me think any less of you.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Alright. Okay. Fine. I’m in love with you. There. Happy?”

“Immensely.”

Without another word, he kissed you.

Your whole body froze. What? What was going on? Oh. You had to still be sleeping. That had to be it. There was no way he was actually kissing you. He was still in love with what's-her-face. There was no way he was-

His tongue slid into your mouth.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a whimper tumbled past your lips. Oh god, he was actually kissing you. And he tasted good. Kinda like porridge. But good. Oh god, why was he kissing you? Did you even care? Wait, yes, you very much did care. You very much did not want to be a rebound. No way in hell. You’d rather be in the friend zone than the rebound zone. God no.

You quickly pulled away from him, gasping for breath.

“Did you not like it?” He asked, eyes looking slightly hurt as they skimmed over you, trying to find an answer.

“Ha… did I like it? Of course I liked it.” You grumbled under your breath, still looking away from him.

“So then why-”

“Because I’m not her. I’m not sure if you realize that.” You’d snapped and you hadn’t meant to snap. Oh fuck, you really hadn’t meant to snap.

You heard him exhale a shaky breath.

Oh no. No, you really weren’t trying to hurt him. You immediately turned to reach for him.

“Ha. Got you to look at me.” He smirked.

Oh, you bastard. You scoffed and flicked him in the forehead. “Jackass. Why are you acting all hurt?”

He leaned in towards you, grinning. “Why are you acting all sensitive? Aren’t you in love with me? Usually, people wanna kiss the person they’re in love with; I mean, I get that you’re new at this love thing-” He teased.

You pinched his cheeks, interrupting his speech. “Yeah, yeah. You’re being a pain in my ass right now, you know that? And besides, I refuse to be your rebound, so maybe you should be careful who you go around kissing.”

His grin faded. “What do you mean? It’s not like I’m going around town kissing people. Just you. You’re the only one I want to kiss.”

You raised a brow at him, unconvinced. “You were just in love with someone else, only moments ago.”

“Hey, that was yesterday. I’m a whole new me today.” He attempted to joke lightheartedly but he couldn’t help the feeling of heaviness that had begun to settle in his chest. You didn’t believe him. Of course you didn’t believe him. He didn’t blame you, but it still hurt.

“Caleb- you were in love with her for years. That doesn’t just go away. I’m not gonna be the bandaid on a gaping wound.”

His expression grew serious and he straightened. “I know. I don’t expect you to be. But I think… I think we’ve been done for a while now. I just didn’t want to accept it. I was always… changing myself to be whatever I thought she’d like. When I finally got comfortable enough to show her who I really was… well, you know how that went. But you��you’re the only person who sees me and loves me anyway.”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you love me back.” It killed you to say the words, but it was true nonetheless. As badly as you wanted to be his, as badly as you wanted him to kiss you nonsensically until you forgot all rationale, until you forgot your own name, until you forgot what day it was, as badly as you wanted him to cuddle you to sleep, to be there when you woke in the morning, you didn’t want it if he didn’t want it. He’d had enough of pretending in his life; he didn’t need to pretend to love you back just to appease you. It’s not like you would quit your job if he rejected you. You’d already stayed by his side regardless of your feelings and his lack of return on them. You didn’t want to be just one more person he had to change for.

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t mean that. But I do love you, regardless. Love is a choice; I choose you.” He said it so simply. Like he was reciting a book, like he was just stating a fact.

“But what if I don’t want you to choose me just because I’m the only one who understands you? If someone else comes along who understands you just as well as I do, will you want them instead?”

He shook his head. “I’m not choosing you because you’re the only one who understands me. I’m choosing you because you’re the only one I want to understand me. You’re the only one who makes me laugh every damn day, the only one I want to laugh with every damn day. You’re the only person who tells me when I’m being stupid, and the only person I listen to when I’m being stupid. Hell, you’re the only person I can’t live without. I’ve already been living without her this entire time, between the long distance and the long missions, but from the moment I met you, I knew I’d need you. So let me need you. Let me love you.” He held his breath as he waited for your response. “It’s also a no charge on Caleb’s homemade meals for his girlfriend,” He added on lightheartedly, hoping you’d laugh.

You bit your lip in attempts not to.

But he knew you better than that. He grinned. “There she is. Hi, baby.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Caleb! You can’t just call me that- I’ve not even said yes yet!”

He smirked. “Yeah, but your cheeks already did.” He kissed each side of your blushing face.

“No charge on meals and you’re paying for concert tickets.” You grumbled, attempting to remain serious.

He laughed heartily. “Only you would attempt to put a price on a relationship. Fine. Sounds like a deal to me. I still think I got the better end of the bargain anyway.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him before beaming down at you and peppering you with light kisses here and there. “I get a woman who’s both generous and gorgeous. She just gets Caleb.”

“Well, Caleb is more than enough for her. She loves Caleb exactly the way he is.”

“He’s starting to love Caleb the way he is too. All because of her.”

Taglist: @tbaluver @pixelcafe-network @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter @minasfwoopyponytail

[keepingitformyself]

good men die too (so i’d rather be with you)

A/N: first natalie fic. needed to get this off my chest. crush by ethel cain on repeat as i wrote this.

SYNOPSIS: natalie scatorccio isn’t the kind of girl you bring home to your parents. and she’s not the kind of girl you’d think to spend forever with. she’s reckless, dangerous, and rough. but that doesn’t stop you from wanting her all the same.

pairings: natalie scatorccio x reader

genre: no crash AU

warnings: suggestive themes, blood, bruises

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s no surprise to anyone when natalie scatorccio comes strolling into soccer practice twenty minutes late. long after coach martinez has just finished a speech on the importance of time management.

her leather jacket slung over her jersey clad body gives you just the faintest scent of marlboro reds clinging to her clothes. she wears a smirk as she approaches the rest of the girls on the field.

coach martinez merely rolls his eyes at her presence. he decides to barely batt an eye anymore. what was the point? natalie was good. maybe not the best, but good enough to get away with her shit.

you weren’t really close to her like the others were. not like misty, who hung on her every word, or shauna, who tried (and failed) to keep her in check. you weren’t even like lottie, who seemed to understand her in a way that made no sense. no, you and natalie were something different.

you didn’t talk much, but when you did, it was charged. every snarky comment or off-hand joke felt like it was said to imply something neither of you wanted to admit. like a game neither of you were willing to lose.

the first time you really noticed it was after a game. the team was celebrating a win at some rundown diner. cramming into booths that barely fit you all. natalie sat across from you, her fingers wrapped around a coke bottle, condensation dripping from the glass.

her eyes met yours, and she smirked like she knew something you didn’t.

“you’re staring.” she drawled, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“you wish.”

she laughed, low and throaty, before leaning in. “i know.”

that was how it always went. a flicker of something in a hallway, a touch too long passing water bottles at practice, her voice too close to your ear when she made some off-hand comment that sent heat pooling in your stomach. and every time, you refused to acknowledge it.

because natalie scatorccio was trouble. and you didn’t do trouble.

but damn if you weren’t drawn to her anyway.

it was easier to act like she didn’t get under your skin. to roll your eyes, to scoff, to push her buttons just to see if she’d push back. you’d rather drive her crazy, make her hate you, than admit what you actually wanted. becuase if you admitted it, it would be real. and real meant dangerous.

real meant natalie had the power to ruin you.

so you kept playing the game. kept up the act. and natalie…she played right into it.

even with the others around, you found ways to test the limits.

at parties, when she was sprawled on a couch with some guy draping an arm over her shoulder, you’d pass by and let your fingers brush against hers for half a second too long. just long enough to make her glance up at you through her lashes, lips quirking like she knew exactly what you were doing.

in the locker room, when the team was too busy talking about the next game, you’d let your knee knock into hers while tying your sneakers. she never moved away.

one night, the team had gathered at jackie’s house for a movie night, a tangled mess of limbs and blankets on the floor.

you ended up beside natalie, bodies pressed together in the dark. her hand rested on her stomach, dangerously close to yours.

you could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but neither of you moved. not when she exhaled slowly, not when her pinky brushed yours so lightly it could’ve been an accident. you weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you swore you felt her shift just a little closer.

then there was the time in the school hallway. the team was heading to the cafeteria together, but natalie had stopped by her locker. you weren’t supposed to wait for her, weren’t supposed to lean against the metal beside her as she rummaged through her bag, weren’t supposed to mutter,

“hurry up, scatorccio,” in a tone only she would catch. she smirked at you then, slow and knowing, before tucking a pack of cigarettes into her jacket.

“gotta problem with me taking my time?” she murmured, just quiet enough that no one else heard.

you scoffed. “i’ve got a problem with you wasting mine.”

she grinned. “right.”

one friday night, after practice, you found her in the parking lot, perched on the hood of her dad’s beat-up mercury, cigarette balanced between her fingers. the night was cool, and the parking lot was empty save for the two of you.

“you need a ride?” she asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“i’m good.”

“you sure? wouldn’t want you walking home all alone. bad things happen to good girls.”

“i never said i was good.”

her smirk widened, something dark flashing behind her eyes. “no, i guess you didn’t.”

you should’ve walked away. should’ve ignored the way her gaze lingered, how the glow of her cigarette lit up her face in a way that made your breath hitch. but instead, you stepped closer. just a fraction. just enough.

natalie tapped her cigarette, ashes scattering to the pavement. “you ever gonna admit you want me?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “your window’s already passed.”

she laughed, full and unbothered. “bullshit.”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. she could read your mind just fine.

and that pissed you off.

because you hated it. the way she could see right through you. the way she knew you wanted her even when you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

it made you want to punch her, just to get rid of the feeling clawing up your throat. you wanted to see her lip split open, watch her wipe the blood away with that smug little smirk because then at least you wouldn’t have to think about how badly you wanted to kiss her instead.

then, one night, she cornered you outside a party, the bass from inside thrumming through your ribs. her lip was split, a bruise already blooming high on her cheekbone, and she looked at you like she had all the answers.

“i owe you a black eye and two kisses,” she murmured, voice laced with amusement. “tell me when you wanna come get ‘em.”

your stomach tightened, heat crawling up your spine. natalie licked at the blood on her lip, watching you like she was waiting for you to call her bluff.

but this time, you didn’t want to call it.

you swallowed hard, fists clenching at your sides. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

natalie tilted her head, stepping into your space, forcing you to meet her gaze. “i know exactly what I’m asking for. and so do you.”

the words settled between you, heavy and inescapable. you wanted to fight her. you wanted to push her away. but more than that, you wanted her to keep going. to ruin you the way you knew only she could.

“say it,” she pressed, voice low, eyes dark. “say you want me.”

your breath hitched. “i—”

“i want you,” she said first, cutting you off. the game, finally over.

and just like that, the bottom dropped out from under you.

you would’ve walked away. but every inch of your body screamed for you to stay. you could feel the weight of her presence as if she was a magnet, pulling you closer, her eyes locked on you like she was reading your every thought.

“i’m not the type of girl who plays by the rules,” she said quietly, voice dripping with something between challenge and promise.

“and i'm not the type who gets caught up in trouble,” you shot back, but it sounded like a lie. you both knew it.

her lips curled into a knowing smile, eyes glinting with mischief. “yeah? that’s funny, because every time i look at you, you seem like you're trying to talk yourself out of something.”

you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot, trying to steady your pulse, but her words hit you harder than you expected. you could feel her eyes on you, following every move, reading the way your body tightened when she came closer.

“trying to act all tough, but you’re standing here, aren't you?” she continued, her tone light but pointed. “guess that makes you just as bad as me.”

your heart skipped, the sting of her words digging into you. “don’t flatter yourself. i’m not playing your game.”

she took a step forward, and you couldn’t help but move back a fraction, but only because you didn’t want her to see how badly she was getting to you. “you’re already in it,” she said, voice dropping lower. "you think i don’t notice the way you look at me?"

your breath hitched, and you scoffed, doing everything you could to keep the distance. "i don't look at you."

natalie cocked her head, eyes narrowing in playful challenge. “really? ‘cause i could’ve sworn i saw you staring when i walked into practice today. or maybe it was when i grabbed that water bottle from you after the scrimage. funny how you can't keep your eyes off me, huh?”

you swallowed, fighting the flush rising in your chest. “you’re imagining things.”

“i’m not,” she said, voice dripping with confidence as she moved even closer. her scent, a mix of smoke and something sharp, intoxicating, wrapped around you. "i know you want to fight it. but you’re not fooling anyone. least of all me.”

“i’m not some fucking game,” you muttered, voice sharp, but shaky. you couldn’t keep the edge from your tone, couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of your voice.

“you’re already in it,” she repeated, her tone quiet but unwavering. “so why don’t you stop pretending? stop pretending you’re not already caught up in me. you don’t get to walk away anymore.”

her voice was so close now, you could feel the heat from her breath brushing against your skin, and every nerve in your body screamed for you to back away, but your feet stayed rooted. your heart thudded, each beat pulling you closer to her than you wanted to be.

“i’m not some... i’m not the type of girl who...” you started, but your words were getting tangled in the mess of thoughts she was creating in your head. you were losing control, and the worst part? you didn’t want it back.

“not the type of girl who what?” she murmured, leaning in just enough to make you feel every word. “who gets what she wants?”

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you couldn’t. the words were gone, smothered by the feeling of her closeness, the way she was looking at you, waiting for you to break.

“you’re just a little scared,” she whispered, a teasing lilt in her voice. “scared of what’s underneath all this. scared of what’ll happen if you let yourself want it.”

Your pulse spiked. “stop it.”

“no,” she said, her smile widening. “you start it.”

you could feel the air around you both thickening, charged, and the space between you two felt like it was closing in, getting tighter, until you could barely breathe.

you could taste the words you weren’t saying, hanging in the air, unbearable. and in that moment, you hated her, hated how she could do this to you—make you feel like this.

but you couldn’t pull away. you couldn’t fight it.

and she knew it.

“tell me,” she pressed, voice low, dangerous. “what do you want, huh?”

it wasn’t a question anymore. it was a command. and in the space between, you realized she wasn’t asking for an answer.

she already had the one she wanted.

[thatonegreyghost]

Failure stings.

The truth of the matter is, they both knew it would be an uphill battle to get the Council to approve funding for a public works project. Hextech might be wonderful and easily accessible to the people, but the Council still thinks of it as "their's", and can be quite possessive over it.

So, they failed to acquire funding for the tram lines they wanted to build. But they knew that might happen.

The knowledge doesn't stop Viktor's tears, though.

"We got so close." Viktor mutters. "Just because our research isn't complete–"

"I know. I know." Jayce mutters, pulling him close for a hug. "We knew this might happen."

"That doesn't make it hurt less!"

"I know." Jayce presses his cheek to the top of Viktor’s head. "I know. But there's always next year. We can make this work."

"It's not fair." Viktor whines.

Jayce spoils him too much, because 5 years ago he never would have complained like this. The world isn't fair, and he knows it. He should know better than to expect good from powerful people.

"No, it's not. But we can make it work." Jayce insists. "Let's focus on getting the data we need, and if we can make a successful model, we can work on convincing individual councilers. Counciler Kiramann will here us out in private, so if we can just get the data–"

Already, Jayce is plotting how to move forward. Viktor knows that this is Jayce's way of grieving their lost opportunity, knows that his vigor stems from his own hurt heart. But that does not stop him from reaching towards Jayce, pulling his arm around his shoulder.

"Jayce, enough." Viktor mutters. "Just... stay here with me, just for a moment."

Jayce complies, and this time, Viktor feels the kiss placed against his head when Jayce leans in to snuggle him. His already conflicted emotions start to whip up into a storm. Did Jayce just... Had he meant... Was that real?

"Did you just kiss me?" Viktor asks, his voice trembling slightly.

Jayce freezes, his whole body going stiff agai st Viktor’s. They're both quiet for what feels like hours, though when Viktor's held breath finally punches out of his lungs, he realizes it can't gave been more than a few seconds.

"Uhhh... Force of habit?" Jayce squeaks out.

"Oh, you could certainly force that habit, alright."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing!" Viktor stammers. "....Let's just go back to the lab. We have some projects to finish."

Now is not the time for stupid feelings. They have a lot of work to get through if they're going to convince the Council of anything by next year.

All I ever wanted All I ever needed Is here in my arms

[atriza]

Control the Rhythm

Yandere! Idol! Ni-ki x Idol! Reader

Summary: As an idol, you’ve worked tirelessly to perfect your craft, but nothing could have prepared you for Ni-ki’s obsession. Assigned as his dance partner for an upcoming showcase, you become the subject of his relentless training. Every movement, every breath—you must follow his lead. But Ni-ki’s intentions go far beyond the performance. The stage is his. The choreography is his. And you? You are his.

Word Count: ~1,600 words

Warnings:

• Yandere themes (obsessive, possessive behavior)

• Manipulation & control

• Emotional and psychological pressure

• Dubious consent (forced physical closeness, possessive kiss in public)

• Mild physical contact (firm grips, restrictive touch)

• Power imbalance (fame, status, forced partnership)

The practice room was empty, except for the two of you.

Sweat dripped down your temple, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to keep up with the demanding choreography.

You had been at it for hours, but Ni-ki wasn’t satisfied. He never was.

“Again,” he ordered, stepping closer, his dark eyes scanning your every movement.

Your legs ached, your body screaming for a break.But Ni-ki didn’t believe in breaks.

Not for you.

Not when you were his partner.

Not when you were his.

“You’re still a beat too slow,” Ni-ki muttered, circling you like a predator. “You need to feel the music, not just follow it.”

You exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling in your chest.

“I’m trying.”

Ni-ki suddenly smirked.

“Try harder.”

And then,he moved.

Fluid. Effortless. Perfect.

The moment the music started, his body reacted as if it were an extension of the beat itself.

You were an idol, too, trained for years in singing and dancing, but standing next to Ni-ki…You felt like a rookie.

Your breath hitched as he suddenly closed the distance between you, reaching for your wrist.

“Watch me,” he whispered, his grip firm. “Feel it.”

And then, he pulled you into the dance.

His body guided yours, every movement synchronized, his hands never leaving your skin.

The mirrors reflected everything.

His possession.

Your helplessness.

The way his fingers pressed firmly against your waist, making sure you followed his lead.

And when the music finally stopped, you found yourself trapped in his arms.

His breath was warm against your ear.

“You feel it now?”

Your pulse spiked.You nodded.

Because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t let go.

———————————————————————

The performance was only days away.

And Ni-ki was relentless.

He pushed you harder than he pushed himself.

Every time you made a mistake, his eyes darkened.

Every time you hesitated, his fingers dug into your skin, reminding you that he was watching.

“Don’t embarrass me out there,” he warned one night, his voice dangerously soft.

Your breath caught.

“I—I won’t.”

Ni-ki tilted his head, studying you.

Then he smiled.

“Good girl.”

The words sent an unsettling shiver down your spine.

Because you weren’t sure if he was talking about the dance.

Or about you.

———————————————————————

The lights were blinding.The crowd roared.

The stage felt both endless and suffocating all at once.

But none of that mattered, because Ni-ki was watching and you couldn’t fail him.

The moment the music started, your body moved on instinct.

Every step, every turn, every breath—perfect.

Just like he had taught you.

Just like he had wanted.

Ni-ki’s presence behind you was overwhelming, his movements synchronized with yours.

And when he reached for your waist—pulling you closer in front of thousands of people—

Your heartbeat skipped.

You could feel the intensity in his grip, the silent message beneath it.

“You belong to me.”

The performance ended, the final pose locking the two of you together, your bodies pressed close.

The crowd exploded.

Cheers. Screams. Flashing lights.

But Ni-ki?

He didn’t care about them.

His eyes were locked on you.

And before you could react—

His hand cupped your jaw and he kissed you.

Right there.On stage.

For the entire world to see.

The crowd lost it.

Your breath hitched. Your body froze.

The kiss was deep, slow, possessive.

And when he finally pulled away, Ni-ki’s smirk was triumphant.

Like he had just claimed his prize.

The cameras had captured everything.

The fans had seen everything.

And as the lights dimmed and the two of you walked off stage, his hand never left your waist.

“You were perfect,” he murmured, his fingers tightening around you.

“You’re finally mine.”

Your stomach twisted.

Because you knew Ni-ki had planned this from the very beginning.

And now?

Now the whole world saw you as his.

And there was no escape.

[cordjefferson]

Hi! Not sure if you still answer questions on here, but I feel lost as a screenwriter right now. In my final year of film school, I’m afraid the “industry” we are about to be let out into no longer exists. I don’t want to go back to journalism, but I also don’t want to fail at screenwriting in vain. I’ll keep going, but just wondering if you’ve ever found yourself in a similar place. Hope you’re well.

A few days after Trump was elected the first time, I called my dad to complain and commiserate. He listened to me worry for a few minutes and then he said, "You know, when I was a young man, it was common to wake up and find out that Medgar Evers had been killed or that Malcolm X had been killed or that Martin Luther King Jr. had been killed, or that another person had been lynched somewhere not too far from where I grew up. It was terrible, but we had to go on living our lives."

It was a helpful reminder that shit's always sucked -- in many ways it used to suck worse. That doesn't mean your fear is unfounded. You have every right to be afraid as all the world's ghouls circle their wagons in an effort to eternalize their wealth and influence, thus making our already intractable problems feel even more intractable. But the great news is that now is the perfect time for you to make your art.

Hard times can make for excellent work. Consider that punk rock and rap blossomed under Reagan. I'm currently in the middle of a novel called The Oppermanns, which follows a trio of German-Jewish brothers in 1933 Berlin dealing with the rise of Nazism. It's a great book on its face, but the whole piece becomes even more interesting when you discover that it was written by a German-Jew in real time as the Nazis rose to power.

Even if what you write isn't taken seriously at first, making art is never a failure. Artists aren't athletes, meaning you don't need to produce your best work before you turn 35 and your knees give out. Creativity is a lifelong pursuit. You'll only get better at it the more you live, learn, and grow. And because the winds of industries and the world are always changing, allowing their vagaries to scare you into inaction would be a death sentence.

I had a very long dry spell in the year 2014. I went to meeting after meeting trying to get into a TV writers' room and was rejected over and over again. After almost nine months of being told no, I finally emailed my manager one night to say that I was going to quit "working" in TV and go back to what was left of my journalism career. He asked me to stick it out for one more month, and two weeks later I got an interview with someone who hired me. Work has fortunately been pretty steady ever since. So, of course, stubborn persistence is also a valuable tool in all of this.

I can't imagine I'm saying anything that you don't already understand somewhere in your heart. You know that you've picked a challenging career. The arts are infamously cutthroat and chancy, and many of your contemporaries are going to quit somewhere along the line. It's a tough road to hoe, and the only thing that makes it at all tolerable is the ability to find value and joy in the making of your thing, whatever that may be. If writing something feels like it's been done in vain because you don't sell it or it doesn't become a hit TV show, I recommend you don't do this work. Only do it if the doing of it is what sustains you, because the doing of it may be what has to sustain you forever.

I'm rooting for you from afar. XO

[joyful-soul-collector]

wassup

i am not actually in arcane, can you explain to me what happened to the person who like turned into a cosmic mummy? who died and is still alive??? who the author/producer (?) cannoned as asexual in an attempt to make people stop shipping them with another guy but it failed?

that is my understanding of whats going on

love the fanart thats coming out of it tho

Pfft haha so his name is Viktor, and he's shipped with Jayce!

What happened to him is A Lot. He was born in a place called The Undercity/Zaun, and there was a ton of pollution and disease there, so he got real sick along with being born with a bad leg (they never explain exactly what disabilities he has but he's got em). He and Jayce worked together to try and help people with their invention of Hextech.

A VERY long story short, Viktor got Really Powerful with the hextech and became The Machine Herald (mummy guy). He almost destroyed the world. Until Jayce talked to him, and showed him what would happen if he did, and they stopped the end of the world together. This resulted in the both of them dying, but MANY people headcanon that they ended up in an alternate universe (as the show explored such a thing) and are living happily ever after there together. The death of the characters felt "right" in a way for the show, it ended in a thematic, good way for them overall.

That ending was very sweet and beautiful, and felt romantic watching it. Jayce decided he would die with Viktor, even though he had the choice to leave. If you want the full effect I highly recommend watching the show, it's quite amazing.

As for the guy who doesn't want them together, his name is Christian Linke, and he was a co-creator. He doesn't see their relationship as romantic, and did say that he sees Viktor as asexual. It does seem like he strongly disliked that they were shipped together.

Now, a couple problems with that:

Making Viktor asexual does not make him unable to be shipped with Jayce. Ace people can feel romantic feelings, they can even enjoy and have sex, this doesn't change that the feelings between Jayce and Viktor LOOKED to be rather romantic. Whether you see Viktor as ace or not is up to you. I personally don't but it really doesn't matter

A lot of shows and movies and Stories In General have a bad habit of making their disabled characters Non-Sexual. Especially in that they don't often get romantic partners, unless the story is ENTIRELY about a disabled person getting a romantic partner Despite It All. Disabled characters often are shown to never even feel the need for a partner, they're just there to Be Disabled in the story. There's a high chance Christian Linke is using "asexual rep" as a kind of excuse for why they kinda perpetuated this stereotype in the show. Viktor wasn't really there to Be Disabled, but he was very non-sexual, he didn't even have chemistry with the woman who apparently had a crush on him

This feels a lot like when JK Rowling decided Dumbledore was gay but never talked about it in the books. "Oh we have this rep, we just never showed it or talked about until after the story was over"

So yeah that's mostly it, lemme know if ya got any other questions haha

[tsukuyomiland]

Me at 13: *vibes* Me at 37: *still vibes*

[m-o-o-n-f-i-r-e]

my favorite type of ship is 100% the ones where they have unending love and devotion and trust for each other. would do anything for the other. would do whatever the other said without question because they know that whatever it is, their partner knows what they are doing and they would trust them with their life. they could move mountains with their love. they would kill for their love. they would do anything for their love. everyone in the room can see that they are connected on the deepest level and will never be separated. nothing can break them apart. they are always on the same level, they know every thought that goes through their lovers head. when they are in a room together they control everything that happens. when they are apart they would tear up the earth to find each other. they would kill god for their love and give gods throne to their love. that kind of love is the best shit

[huginsmemory]

Even with TBOB and thisisnotawebsite.com there's... Still so much we don't know about Bill. Like ok yeah he's given a tragic background, we know a bit more about his henchmaniacs, but we really don't know a lot. Like, what happened directly after he accidentally destroyed his dimension? It isn't said. Sure time baby KNOWS about Bill's destruction of his dimension, but it seems like he didn't show up after Bill's dimension was destroyed to apprehend him because he only knows about Bill after Bill tries to make a deal with him, causing Bill's wanted poster. And how did Bill become basically the overlord of the nightmare realm, and gather all his henchmaniacs? Like there's a good period where we just don't know. And it's implied he's shocked and horrified (likely even dissociates, since he does that) after he destroys his dimension. But his characterization doesn't seem by that point to be one that immediately goes into a self-destructive, violent god-becoming maniacal spiral of self hatred; it's more one to be overwhelmed with grief and spend a good long time in the midst of his grief, then necessarily he's about to DO anything. And generally speaking trope wise, there's steps missing; typically in this sort of scenario, the usual progression is this:

characterized as monster due to being different in some way

tries to prove their not

ends up hurting someone anyways

gets further villainized, and antagonized by others

Acceptance of being a monster, and goes okay? You wanted a monster? I'll be a monster.

Now this fits Bill's early life, up to number 4, but we don't know what happens immediately after. It's possible he just went into his spiral immediately after, but it feels wrong, because it is missing the part of someone further villainizing him beyond himself which causes him to lash out due to the expectation (and internalized) idea that he would cause harm. I'd assume maybe some kind of interdimensional authority showed up and accused him of purposely trying to kill his dimension, which triggered his "okay, then I'll be a monster", or even a situation where his 'monstrosity' through the badge of killing his dimension is garners him respect. Considering that his henchmaniacs are chosen out of monstrosity and violence as a badge of honor, it feels very much like this would make sense, except none of them really know about Bill's dimension. He doesn't brag about the violence of it; he only calls it a liberation, contrary to the idea that Bill ever used it to gain clout. Instead, it's more likely that an interdimensional authority showed up and accused Bill, except from circumstances, it doesn't seem like it was Time Baby, so not sure who it would be... but at the same time, that expectation is often required for the character to truly embrace their 'monstrosity' and become truly violent. Or perhaps it was delayed after the destruction of his dimension, later when he begins to run with his henchmaniacs and disregards the law, but that also doesn't feel satisfactory for character development. Or perhaps I'm just overthinking this trope...

Also, how did he have his powers? Some is clearly stuff he's always had; pyrokinesis from that one rhyme, the ability to see into 3d, and he was somehow able to destroy his dimension by whatever he did to let Euclydians see the stars (telekinesis?), but beyond that? Was he always all-seeing? How did he become a 'dream demon'? Are his deals actually binding or does he lie? Are these things that he acquired later, because Euclydians seem to be written about as if they usually don't have any of these abilities, nor the abilities Bill is known to have when young, nor did Bill seem to be able to be all seeing when he was younger. Plus, how was Bill able to survive the destruction of his dimension, if he's technically made of the same stuff as everyone else, who all seems to have a physical form? Why then does he seems to be characterized as a being made of pure energy and thought; is that just in Earth's dimension, or does he have a physical form within the nightmare realm? There's multiple things that are contradictory about his body (mouth-eye, yet talked about removing his exoskeleton to feed--not sure exactly when this was mentioned--plus his mouth located under his bricks and bowtie in his exoskeleton in journal 3). But he seems so thrilled by his physical form though on earth, and we know that physical forms exist within the Nightmare realm as Ford was in it... yet it seems like hes characterized to have no physical form, so did he perhaps lose his physical form when his dimension died? Did he technically die with them too, but with his powers was able to survive essentially as a ghost like he tells Dipper you become without a body?

[yrlocalghost]

you know. i feel like chara is obviously a very complex character and has a lot of problems and a lot going on, but i always thought that the fact that the whole wanting to kill people from their village was like. not that bad. in and of itself.

[thedreadvampy]

it's been a strange arc so far

when I was 19-21 and having an extremely imbalanced relationship with someone in their mid 30s I was like 'we are both adults so the fact that this is fucking me up is my fault'

when I hit my late 20s and saw how young people in their late teens and early 20s seem now I was like 'oh wait I was so fucking young I didn't know shit about my own limits or about managing relationships and I don't know why someone in their mid to late 30s would be into that except for nefarious purposes'

the weird bit is now I'm into my 30s - not even that far into my 30s - and while I still wholeheartedly believe that last thing about how young (and self destructive) 20 year olds are, I'm also kind of like 'huh, actually nobody I know that age has their shit remotely together and frankly the reason this fucked me up is because NEITHER of us knew what the fuck we were doing it how to cope, for different reasons and at different life stages, and there probably wasn't any malice or intent to control as much as there was Blind Flailing.'

[sapphireswimming]

literally every time i watch haikyuu, it makes me wish i'd liked playing volleyball

[dullahandyke]

once again thinking abt the fact that the RG gang were scientists before they were combat-trained nobodies in the org. i mean dilan and aeleus were guards and luxu n xehanort were You Know, but ienzo was like 9 and even was Literally Just A Guy who's the shield guy despite being the exact opposite of a tank because otherwise he would faint if you cast fira in the same room as him. xemnas bud i know you don't want your vessels dying on you but maybe just wrap him in bubble wrap and lock him the basement with some conical flasks to play with instead of giving him ice powers and sending him into combat scenarios

[ocdhuacheng]

I actually haven’t been this devastated by a chapter in a really long time

[hinamoonstuff]

I love how deeply I can feel things for people, places, things, or whatever else I love