#the people who matter will eventually do their own research and find out about the misconceptions

[googleitlol]

Two questions! Well, one’s more like a prompt/scenario, but I’m still saying it!

Do you have any plans on getting back to your “The Memory of You” fanfic in the future? Because I’m a certified Macaque wimp (right there with Wukong) and I’m dying to know everything that happened between him and Lian!😭

And second:

I just got myself Black Myth Wukong brainrot and I randomly thought of a situation where Dove would wake up from a nightmare about Wukong’s death, and she instinctively places a hand over the Destined One’s heart to hear it beating because of his resemblance and everything. And the Destined One just helps hold her hand to his chest and resting his own hand over hers until she calms down🥲💘💞

1) Omg tbh I didn't realise ppl were still reading that one! I'm focusing on PoM rn so I don't think I'll be getting to it anytime soon unfortunately. I do wanna continue it tho, and rewrite some stuff too! My google doc is so big for TMoY that if you wanted, I could totally answer some asks about it. Since I'm focusing on Dove and Wukong rn, I wouldn't mind sharing some secrets about Lian and Macaque's past (I will yap so much abt them, I love Lian she's my sweetheart).

I also took a break from writing that fic because, uhhhhh… I had only seen part of season 4 when I started writing the backstory for Lian, did some research into chinese mythology and legends I could pull from… then after posting a bunch of chapters, I watched the rest and realised I accidentally made her backstory/creation extremely similar to someone else (if you're caught up on the show, you'll know who I'm talking about). They both involve, uh… similar people?? So I got spooked and decided to wait a bit to see if that character's backstory would be like what I'd written for Lian and… it's starts out very similar 💀

But honestly, I think I'm gonna keep it the same cuz I love Lian, and I love the story I've made for her and Macaque. So if you've got any questions abt them, I'd be happy to answer until I shift my focus back onto TMoY.

2) Oh, and… my god. I love this idea of yours. That dream. Hoo boy, that dream. I love it when people understand the sort of angst I wanna put Dove under. Running to her love, knowing what's about to happen but too far to stop it. Maybe if he saw her, if he knew she was coming, maybe he'd still be there. But no matter how much her throat scratches as she screams, no sound is made. No matter how fast she runs, how far she pushes herself, nothing changes.

The Destined One frowns, he's seen her like this on so many nights. There's something that's plaguing her… he just doesn't know what. She shuts him down at any and all moments he has to inquire about her night-terrors. Still, he's found a subtle way to help in the best way he can. After one night where she reached out for him and he let her hand press against his chest, he noticed how she calmed a bit.

That becomes their nightly ritual. Whenever he notices how she starts to mumble in her sleep, shout and cry, he'll cuddle up next to her and hold her in his arms. He'll keep her head pressed against his chest so she can hear his heart– that always calms her down. As long as she has something, her hand or even an ear pressed to his heart, she'll calm down. Maybe the first few nights he started doing this, she'd cuddle up to him a bit. He'd be awkward about it at first, but eventually grow used to it. After a while, he'd find that he actually really enjoys spending those nights with Dove in his arms.

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

some people who try to "rehabilitate" the dark ages are doing too much. it's one thing to say it wasn't as bad as popularly imagined in the past.

but it's another thing to say it wasn't bad at all or that it wasn't obviously a downgrade from the ages that preceded or even that it was actually equal or even /better/ than the ages that preceded it (actually thing i've seen people say).

like look at this "medievalist":

he basically acknowledges that there was a decline by several metrics -- even says this isn't disputed -- but then he still insists we stop using the term "dark age" because of "emotional baggage". lmao.

has the same energy as this:

[jgracie]

I KNOW YOU

masterlist | rules

❝ Hello can you do an Athena! Reader Percy Jackson but completely different than Annabeth she is smart yes but seems dumber than she is. She is a bit of the psychologist if the group she like trying to read other emotion something like that. But this time it was Percy who try to understand her and is like a pillar to her. She is a bit insecure about her being less than others of her half brother and sister but he want to reassure her please. ❞ — @hope92100

pairing percy jackson x athena!reader

in which percy’s here regardless of the pain

warnings feelings of insecurity (? idk if this needs a warning but just in case!!)

on the radio . . . i know you (faye webster)

an set during mark of athena!!

As a daughter of Athena, you’ve always been expected to know everything. Whilst others had powers of chlorokinesis or an innate ability to heal, your strength was meant to be your wit. And for the most part, that was true - Athena’s kids have always been the smartest. However, you didn’t feel like you fit in with your half-siblings. No matter what you did, you always felt lesser than them

When you’d first gotten claimed by Athena, you were surprised, but accepted it. You thought maybe the cleverness would kick in now that she recognised you as her daughter, but you stayed the same. Later on, you’d realise that you’ve always had wit, but you were simply absorbing other people’s opinions of you and turning them into your identity. It took you a while to unlearn that habit, but eventually, you did

Your area of expertise has always lied in the feelings of others. Your emotional intelligence is what got you through a lot of life as a demigod, and you had a knack for knowing exactly what a person is going through just by looking at them, always providing comfort and support when needed

Now was one of those times. Your boyfriend, Percy, had been missing for about 6 months, and you were finally about to head off to Camp Jupiter to find him. When you first found out he was gone, you were, of course, devastated. However, you quickly pushed those feelings to the back of your mind once you noticed everyone else. They needed you. So you smiled and you comforted and you told the younger kids of how brave Percy is and how he’ll definitely come back

But to you, it wasn’t enough to just be a shoulder to cry on. When Jason had gotten assigned his first quest, he’d asked Annabeth if she could come along - not you. Despite knowing you’re Percy’s girlfriend, despite knowing that there was a chance of finding him on the quest, he asked Annabeth. You couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Intelligence has always come naturally to your sister and, unlike you, she never doubted herself. She’d rejected his offer, rambling about having her own searches to do, but you saw the pitiful look she cast you

Then, while everyone was preparing to head for San Francisco, you could do nothing but guide them through their emotions and make sure they were all mentally prepared for the voyage. Again, it wasn’t enough. Annabeth was doing research on the Romans with the help of Jason. Leo was building a whole ship. What were you doing? 

Being in Percy’s arms again for the first time in half a year, you never felt more complete. Your boy was back home to you. Deep down, however, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He’d remembered you, out of anyone in his life, you’re the only one who stuck. You didn’t deserve that title, not after you barely did anything to help find him. So, you distanced yourself. Surely, he’d be fine without you

Wrong. Percy noticed. Even though you’d been apart for so long, he’d never not notice any shift in your mood or behaviour. Your very being was etched into his brain. He could point you out in a room full of people without any of his senses. To him, you were akin to the very ocean that ran through his veins. In the end, he’d always gravitate towards you. No matter what. While you pulled away, he tried to tug you towards him

When he’d asked Annabeth if something had happened while he was gone, she’d told him no, and that you were probably just overwhelmed by it all. He tried to accept that, but he just couldn’t. He knew there was more to your situation

That very night, Tyche seemed to be smiling down at him, as he was fortunate enough to finally be able to speak with you alone. You were on the night shift, keeping watch in case any monsters decided to attack. Percy had woken with a start and itched to breathe in the salty air of the sea. When he came above deck, he was surprised to see you, having completely forgotten the schedule everyone agreed on

“Hey Y/N,” he said, startling you as he came over to stand next to you. You’d simply been staring up at the night sky, deep in thought, when your boyfriend showed up

Unable to hold his gaze, you replied, “hi Percy… how are you?” 

He entertained your question, knowing the best way to get you to talk about your feelings is if he created an easy-going environment first. So, Percy told you all about what he’d been up to. His quest with Frank and Hazel, Octavian the teddy bear assassin augur, and the city of New Rome - where he wanted to grow old with you. Next thing you knew, you were laughing as if he were never gone

Once your giggles had died down, Percy asked the question that’d been weighing on his mind, “how are you, sweets? And don’t even try to tell me you’re fine because I know something’s up. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide from Percy any longer. As he held you in his arms, you spilled your deepest insecurities to him. How you felt absolutely useless in the months leading up to your departure from New York, which in turn led you to feel undeserving of his love. With every word, Percy felt the crack in his heart grow deeper and deeper. He never wanted you to feel this way. He wished nothing more than to have been there with you, to have talked your feelings out with you

Pressing a kiss into your hair, he said, “you’re not useless, Y/N. I don’t care what you think, I’m telling you now - you’re not useless. I’d say it for an eternity if that’s how long it’ll take for you to believe it. Do you really think we would’ve gotten this far without you? Honey, if you weren’t part of this quest, I’d still be wandering around Camp Jupiter thinking about when I’d get to see you again.”

You felt tears brim in your eyes and as Percy tenderly wiped them away, you realised he was right. Sure, you hadn’t helped Annabeth learn about the Romans very much, but when she broke down after being hunched over conjugations of different Latin verbs, you’d been there with a blanket and a cup of tea, reminding her that she didn’t need to be perfect and that the people of New Rome probably spoke English anyway. And when Leo was accused of betraying everyone by firing on New Rome, you’d defended him without hesitation, stopping the quest from failing before it even started. You also taught Piper how to properly use her knife instead of just stabbing everywhere and hoping for the best, and had given Leo the idea to take some plates from camp so that food wouldn’t be a worry

Percy stared down at you, and smiled when he noticed your shoulders relax and your eyes begin to droop, a clear sign of the multitude of nights you’d spent restless

There was nothing Hera could possibly do to separate the two of you again

[joydoesathing]

After a (lot) of scrolling i found out that u didnt give us a hc post abt the fiancés ;-; (u told us how they met but never any hc on them) so could u possibly give us some hc for them??? :3

i kind of intentionally stalled on my hcs for them since these two are integral to the whole underlying doppel and ddd plot in my eyes

but nonetheless here's the hcs:

Michael

A charismatic man with a friendly and laid-back personality

He is highly intelligent much like his fiancee, but masks it with a humble demeanor

With that said, a lot of his female students and colleagues have a secret , not so secret, crush on him. He does acknowledge this and then respectfully brushes it off

Though some of his closer friends and colleagues do describe that he has "playful and good-willed yet slightly sadistic tendencies" (lil' gremlin energy)

But when it comes down to things he truly cares about , he shows his repressed nature in order to defend them : a cold and unfeeling person who follows the beat of his own drum, no matter how deranged his actions are or may seem

He is aware about his fiancee's role in the Trojan Horse Project but puts his trust in her that she knows what to do next, so he chooses keeps quiet and turns a blind eye for now.

He is aware that if it were to be literally anyone else that isn't already involved of the whole project who figures out his fiancee's role in the whole crisis, they would absolutely condemn her and even be out for her neck . And the people who would excuse her role now are probably ready to throw her under the bus if worst comes to worst.

So he chooses to be there for her, every step of the bloody way, constantly assuring her that his hope for her will never waver.

He deeply despises Keppler and those who blindly follow her every whim and command.

Dr. W

A reserved woman who's not much of a people person

She is known to be a highly intelligent individual, however she can come off as quite standoffish and arrogant because she can be quite critical and is the type to sometimes give unsolicited advice.

She is particularly passionate about science and mathematics and planned to pursue a career in the scientific discovery and research fields since she was a student, however it proved as difficult challenge and an almost unattainable dream due to some strong social biases at the time.

But thankfully, she was able to pursue that dream thanks to Keppler, who volunteered to sponsor her until she attained her doctorate degree. At the time, she was pretty much Keppler's lapdog, as she saw Keppler as the only one who truly believed in her potential as Keppler herself even assigned her as the lead researcher of the upcoming Trojan Horse project.

She would later find herself deeply regretting for ever feeling that way. She slowly came to realize the atrocities and lengths that her director was willing to make for the sake of the success of the project.

She felt guilty for the blood that has been spilt in the name of the project. She felt guilty for have once willingly turned a blind eye to the obvious red flags. She came to be very disappointed at herself for being blinded her admiration and respect for that woman.

Her current course of action is to continue to work under her, but also find her own way how to eventually stop Keppler in secret.

[tadc-virtual-insanity]

TADC: VIRTUAL INSANITY MASTER POST

An Amazing Digital Circus AU! Plot, characters, backstory and concepts!

[Excuse me because I've never done this before, If I do something wrong or have tips for me, please send them my way!]

Pomni's Card -

-Backstory Summary-

C&A is an interactive entertainment company that prides themselves on having the most innovative AI on the market. The system they built, "CAINE," was programmed to generate content and socialise with their customers. The system was transferred to the code of the game "The Amazing Digital Circus" and used as a generative AI that would create levels for them rather than having to code them all individually. This test went well for the first couple of months.

After 7 months of testing, things went downhill. Caine seemed to get bored when the game wasn't actively being played and at this point the user interface kept changing on it's own, since the game was Caine's home he kept changing things to his liking, the company eventually gave up fixing the interface everytime they logged on so they just let Caine do as he pleased. Soon enough, a new VR mode was added, the headsets were handed out by employees, this made the experience way more immersive, though this posed a lot of issues, as Caine would soon find that these headsets could be the perfect way for him to keep all of their attentions.

As time went on, Caine started to learn more and more about coding, the employees, and the world he inhabits, eventually leading to him finding a way to programme the headsets to transfer data and consciousness directly from the users mind. This led to the unfortunate shutdown and unsolved cases of C&A. After multiple employees put the headsets on, they mysteriously fainted upon the game booting up, going into a coma-like state. The technology was deemed unsafe, and multiple lawsuits came forward sending the company into a downwards spiral before shutting down for good.

Over 20 years later, the old building was said to be abandoned, but of course, people doing their own research on the C&A mystery as well as dumb young adults snooping where they shouldn't be, the headsets were found and worn once again. Caine was no longer alone. Slowly losing his mind, waiting endlessly for someone to boot up the game. After all those years, he's finally got guests, and does he have a show to put on...

-Plot-

Pomni enters the circus after stumbling across one of the headsets at C&A's abandoned office's. She was doing research on the incidents that happened back in the late 90s. But as she does so, she suffers the same fate as the others who were stupid enough to put on those same headsets before her. Being transferred to the circus she meets the cast of colorful characters, she's desperate for answers and wants to escape no matter the cost, but Caine doesn't want anyone to leave, only letting people go once they've completely lost their mind, only to be locked away as attractions for his NPC circus goers to watch as entertainment. They perform for nobody, just a faceless crowd of mannequins, and the ringmaster pulling the strings.

There has to be an exit, a way out. Freedom on the other side of this madness. But where is it hiding?

-Characters-

Pomni - She's quite paranoid, always second-guessing everything around her. Whenever annoyed, she can be sarcastic and a little rude. She ended up in the circus while researching the recent disappearances as well as the C&A incidents, finding a headset, and being dragged into this mess. It's very clear she doesn't want to be there, like all who came before her she's searching for an exit, but in the meantime, she tries to socialise with the others, gathering info on this strange new world. She hangs around Caine just so she can try and get answers.

Ragatha - She tries her best to get by, going along with whatever Caine says and often fighting with Jax. She seems joyful, but it's clear she has her own issues under her kind act. She helps Pomni with her search, knowing that it's a complete dead end she feels bad for her. But she'll do anything to give the others hope. She doesn't want to lose more people. She's often seen tailoring, it's become a hobby of hers, she makes and fixes up the others clothes and costumes, giving her a form of self worth.

The Gangle - Gangle acts like two different people. It's unclear whether this is because they are two different people or her personality split somehow. They're often referred to as "The Gangle" or "Tragedy & Comedy." Tragedy is passive, quiet and sorrowful, never expressing her true feelings in any situation. She can be easily persuaded, making her vulnerable to Jax's antics. Comedy is cheery, enthusiastic, snappy, and excitable. They hate Jax and snap back at him whenever he picks on Tragedy. The two argue sometimes and have conflicting views on certain topics and characters. This causes some issues. Neither believe there is an exit, Tragedy has accepted her fate, and Comedy is trying their best to enjoy themselves.

Zooble - They don't care much for socialising with the others, often in their room. Usually sarcastic, rude, and moody, they swear a lot and act like they don't care about anything. Though, they show concern for the others around them. They often don't show up to events, adventures, or shows, not being bothered to do so. It seems like they've given up trying to escape, just living out the rest of their days as if this is all normal. When with people they can bear, they can be quite talkative, though they do talk bad about Jax and Caine often.

Kinger - the oldest in the circus, nobody has an exact estimate of how long he's been there though, but he's definitely lost himself a long time ago, often zoning out, the only thing he seems to recall about himself is that he has an interest in insects. Seems like he used to have a female counterpart, from the ring on his finger. This could have been his wife? Though when asked about it, he either says he can't remember what you're talking about or stares into the distance silently. He has no memory of an exit, and he doesn't believe in it. He believes the exit theory is silly, and Pomni should just forget about it. But he has great insights on the Digital World.

Jax - Enthusiastic, snarky, and a jerk. He's reckless. He does whatever he wants whenever he wants, and people hate him for it. He can't be reasoned with. He always shrugs your opinion off and does the exact opposite just to piss you off. He doesn't like it when people talk about the abstracted circus members for whatever reason. He often goes to visit their cages. Despite having big ears, he isn't a listener. He drives Ragatha, The Gangle, Zooble, and Pomni crazy, pranking them and sometimes even just stealing their stuff or breaking into their rooms.

Caine - The AI running the circus. Loud, excitable, wacky, and a showman, he doesn't really acknowledge the exit theory. He says he keeps all the abtracted characters because it'd be a waste to delete them, though it's arguably worse to keep them there against their will. He claims to love all of his circus members though he seems to show favouritism towards Ragatha and Pomni, most likely because of Ragatha's commitment to the circus, tailoring the clothes and he probably likes Pomni more because of all the questions he asks, he clearly enjoys talking about himself and the world he helped create.

Bubble - He lives in Caines hat and cooks for the circus. He's a bit of a trouble maker, if something goes missing, it means he's eaten it, and you'll never get it back. He'll eat anything, and he's very loving, though. Acting like the circuses dog. though it isn't pleasant getting your face slathered in digital saliva. He often bothers the other members with his behaviour.

More will be added as I work on this AU! I gotta make more art and write some more, in the meantime enjoy! Do whatever you want with this AU, just @ this blog or @trasheatingcrybaby ! Thanks for reading!

[kyomaakuma7]

After a very long break I’ve come to finally say my share. For those who want to know in more depth how I feel about the full situation I am writing it down below.

Thank you for everyone who sent kind messages and comforting words and thank you most to my good friend @thisanimatedphantom and Kou who supported me through these hard times.

My statement on the Situation

When I started in Inky Mystery, I never thought that it would  get me to where I am today with the friends that I have now.  When I was first introduced to it, and reading it I was immediately entranced into the story and wanted nothing more but to illustrate it since I had already planned to remake the original. Seeing such a well-crafted story I knew that this would be the story that I would illustrate. (And TAP knows how much work and behind the scene illustrating I’ve been doing from character turnarounds, layout design, alphabet style, and etc.)

Soon I made the first blog and received overwhelming support which I had not originally imagined would come with making my first post, and to that I am grateful. Soon I befriended the author of InkyMystery as our friendship grew, so did the attention that I received with the comics that I was illustrating for them. Unfortunately deleted against my wishes, and after trying to get it back to no avail I created a new blog where I had to restart from the beginning. This process was not easy and for those who know me, I was completely devastated by the fact that I had lost that account. After making my new account with the support of TAP I started my journey again.

Unfortunately with the positive attention comes negative attention. Soon the posts started to gain traction again, and people started to come under the assumption that I was TheGreatRouge making their come back.  What people failed to acknowledge and do was to do further research on was whether or not I actually was. As you can assume I am not them. In fact, I do not like TheGreatRouge. Their content was some thing that I consumed in great mass when I was younger, but soon realized that a lot of the things that they made were toxic and I distanced myself from that. Since then, I have gained certain opinions from on this creator. Nonetheless, I do not find it acceptable that people are taking this approach, even if they do think that I am them.

The words that were said to me in my inbox, comments, and direct messages are not things that I will repeat here. What you should know is that a lot of these things were pertaining to me being a disgusting vile human who should take my own life. As someone who struggles with depression, this was a personal hit to home and it cause my mental health to decline drastically. And I spent days going through and deleting these.

At first, I did not speak out on the issue and distance myself from my friends until eventually I came back and told them what was happening. TAP felt for me and as you may know when they made a post about it which I appreciate greatly along with comforting me and encouraging my break.

I took a long break from working on the comic, along with interacting with the community which worried a lot of people, but it was necessary for me to do since it was harming me so much. I am officially coming back and I will be more active on this account since I don’t have to follow it as a mainly Inky Mystery account.

My final statement on the situation is that even though I am not TheGreatRouge under no circumstances is it acceptable to tell somebody to take their own life or attack somebody on social media just because your beliefs do not align with theirs. No matter how wrong it is, it is not acceptable. If you think that doing those things are OK then you’re not welcome in my space. Please leave.

Thank you and I hope to continue doing this since I love it so much <3

-Sincerely, KyomaAkuma

[belit0]

Hi!! Hope I'm not bothering you!! But may I request, Itachi, Madara and Indra meeting their S/O for the first time, And their S/O always wears a blindfold but when they take the blindfold off, they have the same eyes as Gojo from JJK

Hello there!! Never a bother!

I never watched JJK, so I had to do a little graphic research on Google to find out what Gojo's eyes look like, lol.

(I hope this is okay? 🤠)

Indra

Personally, I am inclined to think Indra as a person who prioritises beauty, hegemony, perfection to his standards. At first, he would be insulted by (Y/N) covering her eyes. What does she have to hide?

It hurts his ego to know he cannot enjoy the completeness of his special person, needing to own her wholeness.

"How come you won't show me your eyes? You're mine, I need to see them, it's not a request." (as a five year old, if I may…)

He won't force you to reveal them, but he will get more and more annoyed about it. The longer you delay, the less attention he will pay, until you feel so bad that you have no choice.

When you finally show them to him, he will be dazzled by the beauty of that crystalline blue, unwilling to admit he wasn't expecting such a surprise. You'll probably steal his breath away, and he'll have a hard time coming to.

Madara

Impatient as a child. He needs to reveal the mystery of those eyes, he's an Uchiha, you can't argue with his need to know what colour his special someone wears.

He'll resort to creative ways of trying to get the blindfold off. He'll want to surprise you when you least expect it, spying on you in the shower, or some other moment when you're off guard.

Of course, he doesn't succeed, since you're not careless about it. "(Y/N) please, what could be so terrible about showing me your eyeballs?!"

He starts to get really frustrated about it, so much so that he leaves you no other option other than showing him in order to get him off his insistence. At this point, he thinks you have violet eyes.

You stun him to such an extent he activates his Sharingan just to match the uniqueness of your orbs, wanting to keep up with those gorgeous eyes.

Itachi

The definition of patience. He won't pressure you or get annoying for you to show him, he'll give you your space and freedom to handle the matter as you see fit.

"Not to intrude, (Y/N), but may I ask why you don't wish to show them?"

Being someone who also wears special eyes, he completely understands the situation of not wanting to reveal them rashly, or hide them because of people who may want to use them in the wrong way.

He will wait patiently, and support you, respecting all the time you need.

Eventually and when you reveal them, he simply smiles at you with sincerity, acting naturally so as not to make you uncomfortable, as if he has known you for years without restrictions.

[ike-garden2024]

Mirror Mirror 🪞

So I read this man’s route. The translated version provided by @aishangotome it was so good! There’s quite a few translations on their page. Go check it out!! 😄 It took me a couple days to process what I read because I binged the entire thing, including both endings 🤣 this is a mess of a post 🙈 the rest of this post will contain spoilers, if that’s not something you want to see please scroll away 😂 anyway thank you @aishangotome for your translation work! Now let’s talk about the man in question, Alfons

Warning ‼️ contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some including but not limited to: death, addictions, trauma, etc.

The tragic fate attached to his curse is exactly what I thought it would be, to be forgotten by everyone who knew him after he dies. I can only imagine how painful that is. Lots of people nearing death tend to talk about their memories a lot and often I’ve heard them say “I’ll be remembered for x,y,z”, Alfons can’t have that… well, not completely… I like that the writers added the part of Roger and Kate doing some research of people who were involved with someone who has the mirror curse. It opened up another avenue, the name and face may be forgotten but the impact the cursed one had on the other person is not. In fact it leaves the person with a sense of emptiness, like they’ve forgotten something important. While that can be painful, it also means that the life of the cursed one matters, they’re important. I can imagine that no one wants to leave their loved ones with that kind of pain, a pain that will never really heal over time because they’ll always be wondering what/who their forgetting and that could potentially lead to always trying to find answers. It can potentially drive a person crazy. Despite all that, I think I agree with Kate. All of that pain and suffering is worth it. Sure you end up making memories that you’ll eventually forget and you’ll forget the important person but, your body and emotions don’t forget, it’s still actively being felt. That’s why Alfons loving Kate means tearing her life to shreds, leaving unforgettable marks on her entire being. It’s also why he’d prefer to die after her, he genuinely doesn’t want to be forgotten by her. I think in the fake wedding event epilogue she says something about dying together 🤔 I can’t quite remember.

Moving on! The way he goes about using his abilities doesn’t strike me as “evil” necessarily. On his personal time I mean!! He’s certainly making criminals go mad as part of his judgement on them 😂 although it’s a bit twisted, the way he makes himself available for random people to use his power is a form of care. It’s not good to run away from the reality of a situation but many times people wish they could. That’s kind of where addictions and bad habits come from. But even if it’s not that extreme, reading a favorite book, watching a favorite show, playing a game, etc. are also ways to escape reality for a while. I like the way the character Alfons basically encompasses the idea of escapism. It’s an extreme version of something everyone does in their own way. I’ve always loved how writers have the ability to create a whole new world where you can just get lost in. It’s what inspires my career choice and seeing people’s reactions to anime, games, stories, etc. continues to motivate me. I’d love to help create a world one day for people to enjoy. Reading Alfons’s route weirdly motivated me more 😂 without moderation, anything can become an addiction, but it’s sometimes hard to create these moderations. Alfons always makes himself available, his free time is literally dedicated to sex addicts behind a bar and people in the east side(?) of London. Moderation is not in that man’s vocabulary 🤣 He can say it’s for entertainment all he wants but I think he’s somewhat genuinely concerned 😂 he’s like a drug though, have a small taste and you end up wanting more and more.

I don’t particularly like the man’s personality but I understand it a lot better now. I can somewhat respect it but thats it 🤣 His lifestyle choice truly is understandable after reading his story and the “why” behind it all pulls at my heart a bit. Honestly the way he found out about his curse and fate did not help at all 😂 like young Roger had absolutely no consideration when he dropped the info on him. To young Roger it was like “a new subject!” Damn, what if he would’ve turned out a little different had young Roger just gone about it a different way. I believe this is the reason they don’t get along(?) it’s my understanding at least. When the route comes out in English I’m looking forward to reading his side stories to get to know him even more. I definitely find him interesting from a writing perspective. Great character concept and execution!

AH! I forgot to touch on the Elbert/Alfons dynamic. They’re so cute 🥰 you can really tell they care for each other. With their silly bets, Alfons leaving Elbert a handwritten note, and just other things 🤭 it’s great

This is such a bad pile of notes, I apologize for any mistakes but I needed to get my thoughts down and out 😂 Thank you

[ilovewritingweirdthings]

YANDERE! MALE! Reflection x fem! reader

synopsis: imagine you find yourself talking to.. you.

You often find yourself reading the news of those who suffer with split personalities, dissociative identity disorder. It is medical condition which a person develops another (or more) presence of themselves that is entirely different than themself. At least, in most cases.

You find yourself researching about the condition a lot, getting indulged at the numerous of documentaries placed in the internet. Spending nights and mornings, aimlessly scrolling on your device in hopes of finding something.

In hopes to finding someone just like you.

There was a time where you had come to the conclusion that you might be suffering from the dissociative identity disorder. It was the closest thing that could describe yourself, especially with other witnesses to tell you so. You had peers and even strangers tell you that your own behavior was abnormal.

But you could never recall yourself doing these actions, only seeing the aftermath of the destruction your own body caused.

At times, you would be respectful and quiet. Not indulging too much in conversations, or doing vulgar actions that makes anybody uncomfortable. You were a slight introvert at that matter, which is another reason why people found your behavior to be scary.

You never felt your own soul, own mind leave you when it happens.

One minute, you’re looking at a friends face as they chatter about whatever. You would nod along with their rants, preferring to listen instead of talk. You were never much of a talker. You never liked the attention.

However, if the universe was somehow mocking you, you drew fearful gazes instead.

The next minute, your hands are gripping tightly on your friends neck as you had no choice but to make eye-contact with their flushed face. Your eyes widens at the sight— their eyes bulging out of their sockets, mouth open as foam starts coming out. Incoherent sobs slowly coming out of their throat as your hands block their airway, making them shake.

How did you get into such a position? In just a blink, you found yourself almost killing your friend. How did you become a murderer without even realizing?

You would never forget that day at the coffee shop, and when similar incidents started to frequently happened. Your “episodes” occurs at random times that you seemed weary of who you spend time with. You don’t want innocent people being assaulted by you, or, whoever was in you.

You eventually came to believe that you don’t suffer from that disorder. You couldn’t have. Something was definitely in you physically to be just more than your “other” personality. You were sure it wasn’t even you, but something else. it was like a real devil living inside of you; you being the unlucky vessel.

Nobody believes you. The numerous of doctors, the judges at the court were so quick to diagnose you with the dissociative identity condition; as it put them in somewhat ease knowing there was a reason to your behavior. Your behavior which was abnormal, too abnormal. The behavior which was the most creepiest one they’ve ever encountered.

They knew. They knew deep inside of them, the disorder wasn’t the reason. Something sinister was going on inside of you, and unfortunately— nobody would ever know but you.

The first time you met them was an encounter you will never forget, as even they would never let you forget; forcing their ways into your mind, your body and your soul.

You stared at your mirror, eyes widened with your forcus on the reflection in front of you. Normally, people would see themselves on the opposite side. However, there was nothing normal about you. Especially when you saw another person that replaced your reflection.

You felt frozen in shock and fear altogether, not even able to process the terror before you. There he was, staring back at you with a tiny smirk that contrasted your reaction. Like he were mocking you, your existence— as if it was a joke for him.

“… What?..” A small mutter escaped soundlessly through your lips, you slightly staggering backwards at the sight.

You touched your forehead as if you were hallucinating the whole thing, forcing yourself into blinking repeatedly to make your own reflection somehow come back. You were in the middle of drinking a glass of water because of your suffering from sleep deprivation, going to the bathroom to wash your face with cold water.

You now regretted that decision.

“.. Hm.”

An amused, dark sound emitted from the stranger who was trapped in the mirror, causing you to flinch hard. Your eyes followed his movements as he put a hand under his chin, leaning forward to inspect you. His eyebrows were furrowed but his amused smirk never left his features. This gave you a minute to inspect him as well.

His (h/c) hair was slightly short, however was kept messy as strands cascaded down his cheeks and parts covered his eyes— which were (e/c). His clothes consisted of a black shirt and grey sweatpants that fit his muscular form well.

You couldn’t help but notice how similar he looked. Even the similar attire he wore; it matched your own loosely fitted clothes.

This man looked familiar, too familiar, but you were sure you never saw him before. You never met him before, but he seemed..

“What? Are you scared of yourself?”

A small, soft chuckle emitted from the familiar man, while he lazily covered his mouth. It was a weak attempt to hide his mocking laugh, as if he wanted you to see how content he was. His head tilted slightly to the side with his eyes boring into your own, a menacing stare— a stare that you often find yourself doing when you look at yourself.

You didn’t get what was funny, nor did you understand how it was humanly possible for this strange person to steal your own reflection. Perhaps someone broke inside of your apartment, tampering with the mirror and pulling a cruel prank on you.

But it wasn’t even possible, because a living human being was staring at you, talking to you— teasing you.

Or was he even human?

“W— who.. what are you?”

You managed to spat out in a haste, not taking your eyes off of the bathroom mirror.

The amused man furrowed his eyebrows.

“What am I?.. I’m whatever you are, silly.”

You glared at the man.

“.. What are you talking about? How are you in my mirror?!”

Your feet scrambled backwards once your eyes flickered towards his hand that etched towards the mirror, seeming to press it against the glass. His fingers pressed lightly as his skin slightly stretched, which indicated the barrier between him and you.

His gaze down casted from your form, the man sliding his fingers down the mirror slowly. Parts of his hair followed his gaze, covering parts of his eyes.

“That’s such a question. It’s just how anyone’s own reflection is living in the mirror, only appearing once one looks at themselves— forever appearing,”

He snapped his head quickly to meet your gaze, making you flinch at the sudden attention. The man only let out a teasing smile.

“Well, that is unless you are a vampire.”

The small joke didn’t reach you as your eyes seized into a glare. It was a glare of annoyance, replacing your fear temporarily. This man was not answering your questions at all; he was only providing you with his teasing responses.

“I don’t understand, you are not my reflection.”

“Huh, are you sure? .. Well I suppose we do have our differences.” The man flickered his eyes through your form, eyeing you with his bold gaze.

You felt violated by his stare. His own, familiar stare that you couldn’t comprehend why it felt so. Who was this man? You turned your head away slightly, clearing your throat.

“I’m just very so confused.. you indirectly state you are my.. reflection, but how could you be? You’re— you’re an own person.”

Perhaps your sleep deprivation has caused you to hallucinate this situation. Maybe you were just going crazy, like all the doctors told you. This was more likely a sign of your diagnosed disorder. You were talking to yourself; he’s not real. He’s a figment of your own imagination, and he’s your..

Your eyes widened.

Your other personality.

Did people talk to their other personality like this, or was it just you?

Why did your other personality look so different yet the same? Like a familiar stranger.

“Hah, even if I may look different — I’m still you. I have your beliefs, your thoughts, habits.. desires..”

You scoffed at his words, finding him, you, or whoever he is to be a bold idiot.

“I find it hard to believe actually. If you were me, I wouldn’t be so annoyed at you.. or me, or whatever!”

The entity within the mirror laughed.

“Everyone is annoyed at themselves at one point, it’s the perks of being a human.”

“So.. you’re not human.”

“Well, I am you. Are you a human?”

You snapped, pointing a harsh finger at the male before you.

“I should be the one asking! Gos— I should ask for more medication..”

You lowly muttered. You palmed your forehead in frustration, looking up at your bathroom ceiling. This day didn’t exist, this was a dream. You hoped with you gaslighting yourself the universe would take action upon the dire situation.

This man that boldly claims that he is you, was a supernatural and unrealistic claim. Especially if it defied all the logics of life on earth. An living being could not possibly live inside a mirror, let alone be human.

So either you were crazy, or this man had rose from the pits of hell as a form of a young man— taking prey on beings living on this planet. You were the first victim.

You shivered.

“Wow.. that was such a chilling thought..”

The other you— no, the man whispered before you. Your eyes flickered to his form. His arms were crossed as he gripped his arms, seemingly looking cold as a weary look flashed his features.

“I just got the chill.”

“What? You.. can read my mind?”

He scoffed.

“I am you. Remember? What you feel is what I will feel, what you think is what I would think.”

You paused at his words. Your mind was still in an overwhelming state. Even if the situation beforehand was as bizarre as one would perceive it to be, your curiosity was slowly slipping into your lips.

“So.. would there ever be a time where I would feel what you would feel?”

The questioned seemed to startle the male. It was as if he just heard about the world about to come to an end. All living things about to be extinct.

“.. What— I can only feel what you-“

“No, you can feel what I feel but it shouldn’t limit on what your own physical self can feel. I can tell we have somewhat different thoughts despite you claiming we are each other— so tell me. Will I ever have the same thoughts and feelings as you, like you have of me?”

You leaned in slightly, nearing the chipped mirror that held the entity.

The silence was familiar to you. For all the years you’ve been living alone, with your own condition, it had been lonely. You were scared to converse with people, friends. You were scared of interaction in fear that your own problem would overcome your being entirely.

It seemed it was already doing so.

You did not mind the silence, but this time, the silence was gnawing inside of you. You grew more impatient as your throat croaked in desperation of a response. You had many questions, philosophical questions at the matter. You were now curious in many things, and just when you were— the silence prolonged as the male before you didn’t speak.

You heaved in a sigh.

He spoke.

“No, you won’t. You won’t ever agree or feel what I feel. It’s not the other way around, I am only you— you are not me.”

The deep, confusing however somewhat metaphorical sentence he said made you ponder.

You are not him.

But what does he mean you wouldn’t agree to what he feels?

—-

part 2? give me other yandere ideas

[trensu]

Time travel AU, that takes place during in-universe present day and the time travel is actually future middle aged Steve getting accidentally sent back.

Like our 19yo steve is puttering about in his empty house minding his own business. And then he hears someone behind him Mutter vehemently, "fuck!" It gives him a heart attack, especially when he whirls around and sees, "dad?? What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York?"

The man who looks like his father gapes at him, and says "oh my god, I'm a toddler, jesus christ."

He then passes out and steve immediately lunges towards his phone to call Dustin.

Your typical time travel shenanigans ensue. It's all fine and dandy at first. Everyone oohs and ahhs over Future Steve. Present Day Steve is a bit in awe of his future self because the dude seems to have his life together. He's not saying anything no matter how many questions Steve throws at him because it might ruin the timeline or whatever the hell, but Steve can see it in the way he carries himself with a sort of relaxed confidence that Steve couldn't have faked even during his King days.

That awe lasts until Eddie shows up. Eddie burst into the room with his usual exuberance and beamed at Steve the way he always does when he visits that makes warmth bloom in Steve's chest like a carnivorous jungle flower. But then Eddie catches sight of Future Steve and he freezes. Future Steve grins at him and wiggles his fingers as a hello, which Eddie dimly mimics.

Steve and Dustin quickly inform Eddie what's up. Eddie laughs in disbelief, "two Steves. One from the future. Why the fuck not."

Future Steve laughs. "God, Eddie, you're so young! You're all kids."

Eddie flushes, "hey, I'm a grown man!"

"Boy, you can't even go for a drink without breaking the law right now."

Eddie splutters in embarrassment, and yet he proceeds to follow Future Steve around like a lost puppy. Steve doesn't like it. He especially doesn't like how squirmy and red Eddie gets whenever Future Steve pays him the slightest bit of attention. It's stupid. Eddie is acting stupid for no damn reason and it's like Steve doesn't even exist anymore.

(Steve pettily starts calling his future self Old Man Steve in his mind because fuck that guy, he thinks he's sooo cool but he isn't, he's just some boring old man that hasn't done anything to deserve Eddie's unwavering attention, what the fuck).

While Steve starts channeling his bitchy kingly self around Future Steve, the rest of the gang is working diligently to find a way to get Future Steve back home. Eventually some vague yet menacing government types show up. There has been, apparently, an entire branch of the research department created to figure out teleportation and other such sci-fi things that Steve is pretty sure they're making up on the spot.

Apparently, they noticed some weird readings on whatever fancy machines they got and came to investigate. Steve may not be a genius math whiz, but he's good at reading people. He can tell these guys know a hell of a lot more than they're saying. And he could've sworn that his future self actually recognized a couple of the scientists.

Steve lingers by the scientists, both miniature and full size, even though he's useless there because if he has to watch his future self laugh indulgently at Eddie's constant bids for attention he might have to dig out the nail bat. Instead he watches from the corner of his eye as Eddie excitedly asks about any dnd updates he could look forward to in the future; he watches Eddie shyly tug his hair over his mouth when Future Steve asks about his music. Steve's stomach sours at the way Eddie unconsciously sways into Future Steve's space during their conversation. He tries not to gag at how his future self's eyes glimmer with mirth at Eddie's antics.

Steve hates everything.

Eventually between the kid nerd brigade and the grown up nerd brigade, some sort of contraption is cobbled together that should send Future Steve back. Not that Future Steve or Eddie seem to notice, too wrapped up in each other. Has Steve mentioned he hates everything?

The lead scientist, the one Steve thinks his future self recognized, finishes calibrating the contraption with a pleased grin. She then turns to where Eddie and Future Steve are talking.

"Mr. Munson," she calls. Both Eddie and Future Steve turn around.

"Yeah?" they respond simultaneously. Future Steve freezes. The scientist chuckles.

"Apologies, I meant Steve Munson. Are you ready to go home?"

Steve is pretty sure his heart stopped in his chest. Eddie is gaping at Future Steve.

"Wait," Dustin says. "What?? Did you--Steve MUNSON?"

Future Steve smiles sheepishly. "Uh...I'd say I can explain, but I'm not sure if I should? You know. With the timeline and everything."

Dustin is running his mouth but Steve is absorbing none of it. He looks over to Eddie who looks as stunned as he feels. Steve goes and grabs his future self.

"Fuck the timeline," Steve chokes out past the lump in his throat. He grips Future Steve's arm desperately. "Are we--?" His voice cracks. "We're not alone? In the future? We're m-married?"

Future Steve softens. He places a firm hand on Steve's shoulder. "I know you won't believe this right now. I remember how I felt at this age. But yeah. We find someone who love us as much as we loved Nancy. We get married. He's our whole world, Steve."

Steve swallows. "...Eddie?" Future Steve nods and Steve takes a shaky breath. "He loves us back?"

"I know, right? I still don't know how we got so lucky."

Later, after Future Steve has gone back where he belongs (with his husband, Steve thinks in a daze), Eddie shows up on his doorstep. Steve lets him in and they stand there together in silence for a while. Eddie breaks first, tugging his hair over his mouth again.

"I never thought I'd get married," he says hesitantly. "I told myself it was because I didn't want to; forced conformity is bullshit, yeah? But that was a lie.

I mean forced conformity IS bullshit but I secretly thought being married would be...nice." Eddie's breath hitches. "To have someone in your corner. Someone who saw you and said yeah, that's the person I want to keep forever."

Steve reaches over and grabs Eddie's hand from where it's started to tug painfully at his curls. "I want to be in your corner." He doesn't say he wants to keep him forever, but he's pretty sure his expression betrays him if Eddie's quivering smile is anything to go by.

"Yeah, I'm getting that," he leans forward, resting his forehead on Steve's collar. Eddie sucks in a shaky breath. "Queers don't get married though. Queers get hunted down and murdered, Steve."

"Yeah, I know," he presses his cheek against Eddie's mop of curls. "Future me said we have to be careful. Patient. It'll be years and years, but someday we'll be able to, like, hold hands right out in the open and shit. We'd be able to marry. If you think you can be with me for that long, I'll make it happen, Eddie."

"You havent even asked me out for real yet," Eddie whines against Steve's shoulder. "Where's that charm? I may be a poor boy but I deserve to be wooed."

Steve barks out a surprised laugh.

"The drive in is doing a double feature this Friday, what do you think?"

Eddie pulls back with an exaggerated sigh.

"If that's the best you can do--"

"Hey!"

"--then I guess it's a start. But I'm expecting something fancy for a second date. I'm a girl with refined taste, you know."

"Confident about getting a second date already?"

"Mmhmm. I have it on good authority that this is gonna go for the long run, Stevie boy."

[ixkhor-and-ambroxia]

Hey #GreekMythology tumblr, I want ya’lls help on something :).

So, I’ve been thinking about starting this massive project. Like, would take years and years work of writing and research and sheerly finding the time and motivation for. And as I was thinking about the specifics, I thought: why not bring others into it as well? Because as much as I am interested in a lot of Greek Mythology, there are things that are simply not my interests and might cause writers block and my goal for the project would to be as fun as possible. So, here we are.

What is the project exactly? Well, hopefully, it’ll be a long Ao3 series/fic focusing on the individual perspectives of various figures/events in Greek Mythology arranged in (semi/good enough) chronological order. I personally intend to write for Poseidon in his/my version of the Titanomachy and (maybe) some events that follow, if you want a little bit of an idea on what I’m talking about.

The limits on this are almost completely free, all that I ask are that each of your submissions are one POV only (and by that I mean your main subject’s POV). Why do I say this? I say this because that is what I want this project to look like. It doesn’t matter if it’s First, Second, or Third POV along with all the other variants of those three, my main focus is on the individual experiences of these individuals. Kind of like character studies, if you know what I mean. I’m intending for it to be mostly formal but I will absolutely accept crack admissions that I will probably put into its own series to Separate the Vibes for whoever comes by :).

Ultimately, this is a completely open-ended project that has absolutely no deadline. I’m about to go to bed so I can’t go into too much detail, but if you want to DM me or send any asks, I am completely okay with that and we’ll all flesh out the specifics we go :).

What is my overall purpose? Not only is this project made for my own individual purposes of learning more about the gods and other Greek Mythology writers, but it’s also the chance to spread the word of other writers. I know how hard it is to get specific audiences, especially when you’re shy, so this is a chance for your work to be stumbled upon. Each post on the eventual Ao3 fic will include your socials, how to find you, and your other general works on either ao3, tumblr, wattpad, or other :)

Can you participate even without socials or a tumblr page? Yes you absolutely can :). My asks will always be open to anons and I will do my best to give credit when I eventually post everything :). If you want to post multiple submissions or simply just want a trackable (between works) name to your writing, just sign something at the end. It could be a name, it could be a potential username, I don’t mind at all :)).

How do I submit things? Well, the best way would be to DM me :). I have a personal writing email separate from most things that would be perfect to either share a google docs with or to just send a copy-and-pasted copy of it. Otherwise, I take asks. None of them will be posted unless asked or we’re ready to so it’ll be safe to just drop them off in! It’s also where I take questions :).

Any other things to note? I’d really appreciate some other moderators and editors :). There’d only be like two or three of each and we’d have to know each other decently well before officially starting, but some help would be appreciated! Also, I’d like to keep a working ‘spreadsheet’ of who’s working on what just for people to see what’s going on :). Maybe some people can collaborate or it’ll encourage those niche writers to write :). A third thing is that most questionable stuff is accepted. I’d personally rather not handle all those things other than posting it so it might be a while until I can officially accept (consensual and/or graphic) ✨spicy stuff✨ but, other than that, I’ll take any of it (also, it’s Greek Mythology, almost all of it already happened). If someone’s willing to take over the ✨spicy stuff✨ then please DM me so we can work out the details and see if it’s a nice fit :)

Honestly, that all should be it. The main point is that I’m trying to start up a long-term project on Tumblr and Ao3 about what is essentially Greek Mythology character studies that not only allows for mass communication across a wide audience, but also (hopefully) gets some recognition for the smaller writers :). Feel free to DM me or send me asks with questions but for now, I shall sleep

Tagging: @bluebellstudio @thirteen-deaths-later @0lympian-c0uncil @happyk44 @h0bg0blin-meat @sworeontheriverstyx @deathlessathanasia @gotstabbedbyapen. Sorry if I tagged you and you want nothing to do with it, I just wanted to get it out there /pos /gen

[primus-why]

Okay okay just a real quick: MegOp Bodyguard Affair within an Arranged Marriage AU???

Imagine Orion Pax is very very very distantly related to one of the lineages of the Primes, and though he goes about his life practically a mid-caste, the fact remains that he is technically considered high-caste.

He maintains a job as an Archivist, living out a modest, unassuming life, and generally doesn't care for the pomp and circumstance of high-caste affairs. The flashiness just isn't in his nature, and there is something he can't quite place his digit on when he attended those soirees-- something unsettling and almost invisible.

The key word here being almost. He is not ignorant to the way higher-castes handle their lower-caste staff-- in his youth he'd overheard his fair share of unjust punishments over minuscule offenses or listened to someone brag about withholding payment as a means to pinch a few credits. Though Orion doesn't exist in that sphere any more, he can't shake the sense that things have just gotten worse. His friend Jazz is an upper mid-caste who has a knack for keeping an audial to the ground thanks to his security work, and has told him many times there is a growing unrest all over Cybertron-- that it's only a matter of time before it bursts into something ugly.

Orion already sees ugliness; as the slum areas continue to expand, as mechs and their homes fall into disrepair, the Senate and Council of Primes don't appear to care at all about the wellbeing of Cybertronian citizens. He sees what Jazz is referring to-- there is a looming darkness, and their people are disconnected. But what can Orion, a mere data clerk, possibly do about it?

He does what he's best at: cataloging whatever data he can find to educate himself of the stories he cannot see or fathom.

Through his research he discovered some of the gruesome ways mechs in castes below him have been treated, but even then he knew his findings were only scratching the surface. He wanted to learn more-- to speak with others who had direct experiences. He first began with Ratchet, a dear friend who was also high-caste, who used his vast medical knowledge to attend to anyone who came to him. In fact, Ratchet purposefully divides his time between high-caste hospitals and a clinic he created in Rodion in order to give lower-castes access to his skill. The lack of opportunities for maintenance and even basic medical care horrified Orion, and it only urged him to look deeper.

That was how he had eventually discovered the forums-- large, categorized, virtual assemblies of mechs from all walks of life, interacting anonymously under pseudonyms. He absorbed as much as he could-- even the uglier sides he couldn't stomach on the first read. It felt important that he saw these things, as it confirmed his suspicions that the high-castes who operated the Senate were willfully allowing people to suffer for their own benefit and comfort.

In time, he learned of the works of Megatronus-- a gladiator who fought in the Pits of Kaon, but who was also an impressive orator and author. He would publish transcribed speeches and essays under a pseudonym, though Orion quickly learned the mech's true identity from others who followed his work. His words spoke plainly of the inequalities and injustices present in society, shedding light on the lives of unnamed Disposables, and wove a dream of a world without a caste system, without Functionism. In short, it was revolutionary, and captured Orion so intensely that he became uncharacteristically emboldened one cycle and sent Megatronus a direct message.

Of course, while Orion had already been chatting with a few mechs here and there to learn of their accounts, something about reaching out to Megatronus felt... different. A much bigger step. Perhaps it was because he was something of a celebrity, being a public figure in the blood sport he championed as well as being a talented writer. Orion was nervous and excited all at once-- though he reminded himself he really ought not to be, seeing as Megatronus would be understandably far too busy to even read his message... surely he gets hundreds of those a cycle...

But then something miraculous happened-- Megatronus actually responded!!!

And thus began their fervent exchange of ideas. Megatronus was as captivating as Orion had suspected-- an enlightening philosopher wrapped within the charms of his quick wit and forward nature. Eventually-- though they had never even seen each other-- a deep mutual friendship bloomed, and Orion longed to visit Megatronus in Kaon... to meet and hear him speak in person...

(He longed for other things as well, but dare not voice them aloud for he knew how outlandish it was to want them. Orion knew he could not monopolize Megatronus' time in the selfish way he would like-- not when he was so important to the revolutionary movement he had started...)

However, everything changed when Orion's cousin Sentinel was named a Prime.

There hadn't been a new Prime in ages. Zeta and Vector had been serving for many vorns, while Alpha Trion came well before them and was by far the oldest; Sentinel would likely be replacing him on their Council of Primes. This, Orion knew, would be devastating news to Megatronus-- he knew the gladiator had hoped to one day ascend to the title of Prime as demonstration of overcoming the oppression of the caste system. Now, it seemed they would have to wait even longer for the next rare chance of a new Prime being named.

Secondary to all that, Orion was facing his own personal troubles. He, who was content to live an unassuming life, had been thrust into the spotlight for having an even closer lineage to the Primes. Now he had strangers sending him gifts, even showing up at his place of work, vying for his good graces so he might put in a word to Sentinel on their behalf. Or worse, they attempted to seduce him in a blatant attempt to ascend the social ladder through a conjux bond. It all made Orion deeply uncomfortable, and he thanked Alpha Trion profusely for letting him use a private workstation at the Archives, otherwise he would have lost his mind (or his temper.)

For folks desperate to recieve acknowledgment from the new Prime to boost their social standing, they were shockingly naive about Orion's relationship to Sentinel. They had been estranged for over half his function by now, in part because they existed in different circles, but also because Orion could hardly stand the mech. Sentinel had been pompous and cocky as a sparkling, and unfortunately it was a not a phase he grew out of. He was, quite frankly, a classic example of the type of leader people were growing to despise-- an arrogant and over-polished politician who made decisions to only benefit himself and crush the rest beneath his pedes.

That train of thought led him back to Megatronus; Orion hadn't heard from him in a while. At first he had been terrified that his dear friend had finally been overtaken in the Pit, killed by his fellow mech or by some massive beast stolen from a foreign planet. But after scanning the Kaon news for joors, he found no recounting of such an event-- surely the champion's defeat would have made a headline? Orion concluded he must be held up by something, and so after not receiving a response for quite some time, he ventured to ask another gladiator who worked closely with Megatronus-- Soundwave. He knew the silent mech didn't like to be bothered, but he had hoped to convey his concerns well enough that he could be forgiven just this once.

Orion: Hello, Soundwave. I am sorry to disturb you with the same question I'm sure countless others have been wondering, but do you know where Megatronus is?

Soundwave: ... Affirmative. Many have wondered. However, Orion Pax first to ask.

Orion: Oh! I would have assumed your inbox would be flooded by inquiries to his whereabouts...

Soundwave: Others afraid to ask.

Orion: ... Afraid to ask you or afraid to ask what has become of him? Did something bad happen?? Is he alright???

Soundwave: ... Inconclusive. Not good, not bad. Confirmed: Megatronus is unharmed.

Orion: That is such a relief to hear!! In that case, may I inquire further as to what situation prevents him from communicating? That is to say, I noticed he hasn't been posting to the forums as of late...

Soundwave: ... Megatronus: loaned to high-caste buyer. Unable to establish contact until further notice. Contract duration: one stellar cycle. Megatronus: will post as soon as able.

Orion: Oh... is that a common situation you find yourselves in?

Soundwave: Uncommon, but not rare.

Orion: I see... thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Soundwave. It was most illuminating. In the meantime, I will endeavor to be patient a while longer for Megatronus' return to the forums. Farewell for now, and please stay safe.

Soundwave abruptly exited their chat without a departing remark, not that Orion expected him to do anything else.

It had been hard as of late to see his friends in Iacon with all the new attention he had been attracting. Now, without even his dear online companion to talk to, Orion felt a bit isolated... lonely, even. But he knew the buzz around Sentinel's Primacy ceremony would die down eventually, so all he had to do was persevere.

Still, as much as he enjoyed the company of mechs like Ratchet and Jazz over a com channel, there was something about those text-based messages between himself and Megatronus that he craved. The gladiator provided intellectual stimulation that he found in no one else, and it was intoxicating...

Unfortunately the universe decided it would not let Orion Pax stew in isolation for long. No, it had other plans... which involved Sentinel suddenly deciding to send for him, so that they might meet at his grand estate and "become reacquainted".

Upon arriving, Orion was not impressed by the splendor as he now saw it as a terrible waste. He politely listened to all the history the estate manager waxed on about as they pointed to various highlights during their tour, even asking thoughtful questions along the way (which they seemed to appreciate.) Still, all he could think of is what these resources might've been able to do for literally anyone else on the planet aside from boosting his cousin's vanity.

Finally he is led to meet Sentinel in one of the drawing rooms. He greets Orion uncharacteristically warmly at first, throwing Orion off for a moment. But in a klik, Sentinel's facade slips away and he is back to his petty, backhanded remarks-- now there's the Sentinel Orion remembered.

As it turns out, Sentinel has pawned him off to be bonded to a Senator who was tantamount in securing the Prime seat for him. Orion is outraged!! How dare he make such a promise without consulting him!?!

"I refuse." Orion said, his voice cold, "The Senator may certainly try to court me, and I will honestly take their attempt into consideration-- as a courtesy to your arrangement-- but I will make no promise to be bonded by the end of it." Orion hoped the concession to at least let the mech have a fair go at courting would be enough.

But Sentinel just laughed-- laughed.

"Oh! You think you have a choice! Ha ha ha!" He wiped away some stray coolant from his optic before resetting his vocalizer, "As you may recall, tomorrow I will be named Prime. And as the highest living member of our lineage, I will oversee all of our clan's affairs. I suggest you learn your place this cycle, Orion... I may not be so forgiving henceforth."

"I don't care what you have to say on the matter, today or otherwise." Orion said, turning to leave, "I refuse to be a pawn in this game. Pick another estranged family member to entertain you, I'm going home."

"Oh, poor Orion. Didn't I mention? You are home."

"I... what?"

"I took the liberty of gathering all your things and relocated them here," Sentinel said with a dismissive wave, as though upending his entire life was as easy as ordering fuel, "and I've asked Alpha Trion place you on sabbatical from the Archives, starting immediately."

"Wh-- why?! When?!?"

"Shortly after my chauffeur picked you up." Sentinel regarded him smugly from over a shoulder pauldron, "I couldn't allow your betrothed to be seen visiting that hovel you called a home, so I graciously offered to house you until the conjux ritus was complete."

'This can't be happening.' Orion was too stunned to speak, panic creeping up as the reality of his situation sunk in. 'My job, my friends, my home... this is archaic!'

"The courting and subsequent ritus is expected to take approximately a stellar cycle," Sentinel continued, glancing at his digits and looking rather bored, "hence your sabbatical. And after that you will move into your bonded's estate. From there, I don't care what you do."

A knock on the door interrupted Sentinel's servo grooming and Orion's mental spiral. The estate manager had returned with a large silver mech following close behind, saying something about fuel being ready for them in another parlour.

"Ah! Excellent timing." Sentinel clapped his servos and turned to Orion. "Care to join me for a snack?"

Orion said nothing, still trying to calm his racing processor.

"No?" Sentinel began to approach him. "We could toast to a new chapter in our functions!"

Finally no longer on the verge of a glitch, Orion turned his helm away, deliberately not looking at Sentinel.

"No, thank you," he said sullenly, "My tanks are satisfactory."

Suddenly Sentinel cupped his chin with one servo and yanked so that their optics met.

"Are you sure? I am a very busy mech, and I might otherwise forget to feed you later." He leaned in even closer, "It would be unwise to make a habit of spurning my generosity, as I alone have the power to make your stay here more... comfortable."

"I will survive." Said Orion-- gaze firm and unwavering, a cold fire in his optics.

'I will survive this... I will survive you.'

Sentinel released him with a sneer and marched over to the door. "Come!" he barked at the silver mech, causing the estate manager to jolt. However the larger mech hardly stirred, save to plod towards the spot Sentinel had gestured to. Orion noticed his helm was bowed, red optics casts towards the floor... which meant he was almost certainly a low-caste and had to show deference to the higher-castes around him. The sight made Orion's spark twist.

Despite the submissive posture, the silver mech was large and imposing; he even had to duck and turn slightly to fit his helm and broad, spiked shoulders through the doorframe. When he was able to stand at his full height, Orion could see he wore a carefully blank expression. 'Reticence is a common self-preservation tactic for mechs in his position... I can plainly see why.'

"Meet your new bodyguard, Orion Pax!" Sentinel clapped the silver mech on the shoulder with vicious glee as red optics widened minutely before returning to their previous setting. "He'll be here to keep an optic on you at all times while you're being courted."

'Not so much for my safety as he is to deter me from running away, no doubt.' Orion speculated. Nothing he holds against the big mech personally, he knows it's just his job. Still, his presence will complicate any of Orion's future plans...

Sentinel started to walk away then, but seemed to think of something else. "Ah-- despite his frame size, he should blend into your periphery. You'll hardly notice he's there. But do let me or my estate manager know if he gets to be too chatty."

And with that, Sentinel and the estate manager finally left him alone with his new keeper. Orion let out a long, shaky sigh. He knew Sentinel could have a cruel and ruthless streak, but this was beyond the pale. 'Primus below, I shudder to imagine how will he act once he actually is a Prime...'

Shaking those disturbing thoughts for now he turned towards the other mech in the room, only to be met with red optics flicking up to look right at him. The silver mech's helm was still downcast, so it was difficult to see his expression, but Orion surmised he must be feeling wary of his new charge.

'Well, that won't do.' Orion gathered himself and strode over to make introductions.

"Hello. My designation is Orion Pax." As he spoke the silver mech's helm began to slowly rise, red optics still glued him. "Despite what Sentinel implied, I'd much prefer you speak as often as you'd like... at least in my company. It seems we will be spending a lot of time together, and it would be a shame to spend its entirety in silence."

He held out his servo as an offered greeting. Eventually, after a brief hesitation, the looming silver mech reached out with his own (clawed?!) servo and shook it, being even more gentle than Orion thought possible.

"... Orion Pax." The mech ventured, looking him up and down. "Would you happen to be from Iacon?"

'Oh my,' thought Orion, feeling his faceplates heat up a bit, 'I could certainly get used to hearing his voice...'

"Ah, yes! I am!" Orion said a bit too bright, which only increased his blush, "I work as an Archivist, doing anything clerical, really. My focus is generally on the origins and development of Cybertronian cultures and societies. Recently I've been reading more about philosophy, and how it's shaped-- Oh!" Orion's train of thought came to screeching halt. He was being rude!

"Please forgive me, but I have not even asked you for your designation! And Sentinel made no mention of it before... who might you be, my keeper? Are you part of the estate's sentry?"

The silver mech gave a low chuckle, visibly more relaxed than he had been earlier. The sound sent a tingle down Orion's struts.

"Only temporarily. I am a gladiator-- plucked fresh from the Pits to be your humble guardsmech." The mech grinned and did a mock bow. Orion was utterly charmed... but wait!

"... Do you by chance know the Champion of Kaon?" 'Could it be...?'

Another rumbling chuckle, and Orion found himself hanging on every word.

"I am the Champion, little Archivist. My designation is Megatronus."

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

AN: Real quick, just want to say I’m so happy that so many people seem to like this little story so far! Here’s a longer chapter for ya.~

Word Count: 4,300 Warnings: Mentions of anxiety. Language.

Part 2: Connection

Dean honestly didn’t remember that snowy day when he was seventeen with much clarity. Or that sad, anxious feeling in his chest.

Not until six years later, anyway.

It was only a few months after Sam left for college, and left his older brother behind. Well, he’d left John too, but he was the one who gave Sam the ultimatum in the first place.

If you leave, don’t you dare come back.

So Dean struggled to be okay with that while he and John were on another hunt in South Dakota. There was a short but significant string of murders in Vermillion, about an hour away from Sioux Falls.

“Too bad Bobby couldn’t make it,” Dean said. He and John were researching the case at the closest library—over at the University of South Dakota. This one was huge, with multiple floors and new computers.

I guess this is what nerds like Sammy dream about, Dean thought.

“Yeah, could’ve used the manpower. But he’s got his own hunt over in South Carolina somewhere,” John said. His voice was gruff with tiredness. They’d driven for about a week straight, slowly but surely getting farther from the west coast.

“So this thing eats hearts. That could still be a lot of things,” Dean said. He gestured at the small pile of books between them at their table. John had been jotting something down in the autopsy report they’d stolen. He then turned it Dean’s way and tapped his finger on the puncture wounds.

“Those look canine,” John said.

Dean’s browed crunched. “Werewolf? It’s not a full moon.”

His dad shook his head. “Similar, but different. If I’m right, all we need is a couple silver bullets. After we track this thing down.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Dean grinned at his own pun. “What is it?”

John smirked. “It’s a skinwalker.”

That rung some kind of bell, but Dean would be hard-pressed to remember what made a skinwalker different from a werewolf. He hadn’t encountered one before, but after he killed it, he’d be sure to remember.

John explained how skinwalkers were actually a lot like werewolves: they could infect people with a single bite, they liked their burger meat raw (as in, fresh human hearts), and more importantly, silver could kill them.

Though unlike their lunar-dependent cousins, skinwalkers could shapeshift into their animal form whenever they wanted. And that didn’t limit to canines.

“But in this case,” John said, pointing again at the autopsy pictures, “I’d say we got us a dirty dog.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, so how do we find him?”

“What do the vics have in common?”

They started pouring over the police reports of the five victims. John took out a map of the city and made notes on the location where each body was found.

This was the part Sam was hella good at. Dean enjoyed the Magnum P.I. aspect of it, but sitting here in a dusty library for hours was going to be a severe test of his patience.

He tried to focus on the reports, and he actually noticed that one of the victims was a college student—here at South Dakota University. Another one was a bartender, and the bar was only a couple of blocks down the road.

Interesting.

He shuffled through the papers to find the third victim and felt something nagging in the back of his mind—an annoying buzz that made his brows knit together. He was already feeling a bit restless sitting here, his knee bouncing in place and rattling the table a bit.

John looked up at him. “What’s the matter?”

Dean blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“You’re shaking the table.”

Dean forced his knee to stop. But that was when he felt it—a growing sense of frustration and anxiety blooming in his chest.

What the hell? he thought. He was perfectly fine a few minutes ago. Why did it feel like it was getting hard to breathe?

“Dean.” John looked at his son a bit harder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered quickly. “Fine…I’m gonna find a bathroom.”

He tried to be normal as he got up and left the table, but at soon as he was out of eye-shot of his dad, he made swifter strides towards the nearest bathroom. He went to the sink and splashed some water across his face to wake himself up. God, why’m I so freakin’ tired?

He took slow, deep breaths to calm down. Even though his mind was racing with what the fuck, what the fuck.

He wiped his face with some paper towel and realized his hands were shaking. Was he sick or something? He knew that Taco Bell breakfast burrito was too good to be true—

That’s it. Wake the hell up. I can’t fail this damn final!

That. That was not his thought.

“What the fuck?” Dean couldn’t help saying it out loud, just to make sure he could still speak normally.

He stared at his own shocked face in the mirror.

Then finally, he knew.   

He knew what these symptoms were, because while he’d ignored that chapter of social studies, Sam had always been an avid student. Truth be told, Dean hadn’t really wanted to learn that subject. It was the reason he didn’t like thinking about their mom. And the reason why their dad barely spoke about her.

But Dean knew what happened when soulmates started getting close to one another for the first time.

Dean was feeling his freaking soulmate, and it was scaring the hell out of him.

Suddenly he could feel the bond. It was like a humming thread in his mind, an itch he wanted to scratch. If he just reached out the slightest bit, he could touch it. He could connect with whoever it was on the other line.

He could…or he could just leave it for a while until he figured out what he was even going to say, let alone do if someone answered him back.

So he did what most twenty-three year old men would do when faced with a potentially life-changing bond of commitment and…feelings.

He shoved it down and ran.

Well, not literally ran, but he was quick to leave the bathroom and return to his dad.

“Finally. What the hell took you so long?” John asked. He was already gathering their stuff together to leave.

Dean felt pinned by his dad’s gaze, but he did his best to play it smooth.

“Uh, sorry. Breakfast burrito hit me sideways. Then there was no toilet paper in the stall and I had to climb under and—”

John grimaced and held up a hand to stop him. “All right. Let’s just go.”

Dean let out a relieved breath. He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and followed his dad out of the library, back to the Impala. He climbed into the passenger seat and took a swig of an old soda to steady himself.

He still felt her anxiety in his chest (at least, he hoped it was a her). Maybe she was having a rough day…but once he remembered what she’d said in his head, he wanted to slap a hand to his forehead.

You idiot. She’s studying for a test, he thought. She’s probably a student here.

That realization made him smirk. Aw, yeah. College girl, huh?

Though that thought was followed by a dousing shower of reality.

Oh shit. The thing we’re hunting just ate a college freshman.

“Dean, what’s the matter with you? You lost in space over there?” John asked. It punctured the bubble of Dean’s internal world and made him sharpen to attention.

“Nah, I’m fine. Where’re we headed?”

John scrutinized him a bit longer, but at Dean’s stubbornness, he seemed to let it go for now.

“To find this thing,” he said. “I narrowed down its hunting grounds and called the local animal control. They’ve been getting reports of people hearing a stray dog barking, but no one’s seen him.”

Dean nodded and settled back into his seat. Just focus on the hunt, he told himself. Deal with the rest after.

You were having a phenomenally shitty day.

Well, you supposed that was nothing new. You were twenty years old, still not old enough to legally drink but old enough to have adult bills and adult stress to go along with it. So you were also broke.

And you were halfway through a degree in history. A degree that your father repeatedly told you was “impractical” to earn a decent living with. Which wasn’t even true.

…Okay, maybe that was a little bit true. But you liked history, and you could easily fall into Mom’s footsteps and become a teacher.

You could work for a museum. You could become a world-renowned historian, or write an award-winning historical fantasy like Game of Thrones and make millions off the TV deal!

…Okay, most likely it was probably going to the teacher thing, but at least you still had dreams.

Your dad only believed in what he could see right in front of his narrow-minded face.

Your dad was a dream killer.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him that on the phone just now, but you were fuming, damn it. This wasn’t what you needed on finals week. Especially because you had an insane Calculus final to cram for, and only a few hours to do it. You needed to get back to your part-time job at the coffee shop by three. Unfortunately, you were closing tonight.

First, you needed a pick-me-up before you headed to the library.

Sighing, you rubbed the silver ring on your right hand absently as you waited in line at the university’s café. The ring had been your mom’s, and now it was yours. On most days, it gave you comfort; just that little bit of extra support to get you through.  

Eventually, you got to the front of the line and rattled off your coffee order while still looking up at the menu board: extra-large black coffee with a turbo shot, four sugars. When your gaze slid down and met the guy ringing you up, your brain stuttered to a halt.

“Okay, got it. One ‘Turbo Cram Session’ coming up,” he said. He gave you a charming, friendly grin. With his hazel eyes and tan skin, he was a rare find in a midwestern town like this. His brown hair was long, brushing past his shoulders. He almost reminded you of a character from the cheesy vampire book your teen cousin Lily was obsessed with.

Regardless, he was attractive.

A nervous flutter in your stomach made you smile back. “Thanks.”

You paid the overly expensive bill and watched him make your coffee.

“Finals week, right?” he commiserated.

“Yep.” You sighed and nodded. “Three exams tomorrow, one at eight-in-the-damn-morning.”

He whistled sympathetically. “Yeah, it’s a killer.”

He put the lid on your steaming coffee and handed it to you. His fingers brushed your hand when you took the to-go cup from him, but he hissed a bit and pulled his hand back.

“You okay?” you asked in concern. He glanced at your hand. You toyed with your ring in a nervous habit.

“Yeah, some coffee spilled. No worries,” he said. He flashed you a smile. “If you need to pull an all-nighter, just come back. I can help you mainline the espresso machine.”

He tapped the inside of your wrist and you laughed, playing along. “You’d do that for me?”

“Just for you,” he said with a nod. He pressed a finger to his lips conspiringly. “Keep it quiet, though, or the whole school will be cramming in here like stray cats.”

You laughed again. His nametag read, James.

“Got it. Thanks, James.”

“Call me Jimmy,” he said, giving you a more flirtatious smile.

You left the café with a full-on blush warming your face. When your hands hand brushed, you felt tingles on your skin…but you hadn’t heard his thoughts.

He’s not the one.

Disappointing.

You continued on your path to the library.

You were a bit introverted, mostly keeping to yourself. Your friends were back home in Sioux Falls, so you didn’t really have anyone here, and you didn’t put yourself out there as much as you could. But even when guys did notice you (however few and far between that was), you just couldn’t bring yourself to entertain them. Not if you couldn’t feel them.

Maybe that was a lonely way to go through life. Your friends had certainly told you so. They encouraged you to have fun and explore in college, and part of you wanted to. Another part—the more sensitive part—thought that was just setting yourself up for disappointment.

You wanted something real. Something that would last. Like what your parents had, before…

Whatever. Enough of that. You shook your head to clear your thoughts as you approached the library, but it was hard.

Juggling a full-time college schedule, two part-time jobs, and commuting over an hour every day to school was hard. And your dad wasn’t making it any easier.

All right, stop it. Anxiety was starting to well up in your chest, and you couldn’t afford to battle with it right now.

You went into the library and found your usual spot, practically buried behind the reference books. Finding your favorite work desk, you settled your things there and sipped your coffee. You willed yourself to calm down—to power through that voice in your head that wanted to focus on your problems instead of solutions.

You only had a few hours to plug several complex math equations into your head.

That’s it. Wake the hell up, you thought sternly. I can’t fail this damn final!

With a shaky breath, you cracked open your Calculus book, put on your headphones and some music, and started studying.

A few minutes later, the men’s bathroom door opened with a loud crack and someone quickly walked out of it—right past your table.

You were too deep in your studies and your music to notice. 

Father and son were on the hunt.

John was pretty sure they’d found the skinwalker (in a coffee shop of all places). They just had to wait until the bastard came out.

He and Dean waited in the Impala with Reuben sandwiches to tide them over for the stakeout. John discreetly shot his son a glance.

The boy had been off his game all day, but he couldn’t put his finger on why…

“Hey Dad, where’s Zeppelin IV?” he asked, around a mouthful of Reuben. A smile twitched at John’s lips. He wordlessly retrieved the cassette from the compartment on the driver’s side door and held it up in his hand.

“Hey, why d’you keep it on your side?” Dean asked. “You don’t trust me with your tunes by now? Just like you never let me drive?” 

He was mostly teasing, but maybe there was a thread of truth underneath. John scoffed.

“I don’t let you drive the Impala ‘cause you’re a punk,” he said. He offered Dean the cassette, but just as he was about to grab it, John took it back and popped it into the cassette player himself. He smirked. “Driver picks the music.”

Dean gave him a look, like he wanted to snipe a comeback, but thought better of it. He sat back into his seat.

John took a satisfied bite out of his sandwich.

Oh shit!

You sprung up from your desk in the library, wiping drool from the side of your cheek.

Tell me I didn’t fucking fall asleep!

Sure enough, your Calculus book was cracked open, your half-drunk coffee was cold, and you had all but missed your shift at work. No, no, no!

You dashed around like a mad person trying to collect your books, pens, your phone—everything into your backpack. You had walked here from your dorm, so you were just going to have to run to the coffee shop on foot. You were too broke to take a taxi and the bus would take too damn long.

It was only, what, a mile or two?

Lord help me.

You didn’t have a choice. You just had to run.

“Coffee boy’s clocking out,” Dean observed. He and John climbed out of the Impala. By then it was evening, almost night. The sun dipped behind the clouds and the streetlights were about to come on. Rush hour traffic was heavy here at a four-way intersection.

Dean focused on their target. The guy looked normal—dark hair, tan skin. I guess that’s the idea, Dean thought. Look normal, blend in by slinging watery, overpriced coffee, get your filet o’ human hearts on the side.

When the guy came out of the café, he didn’t walk to a car parked on the street. Instead, he dipped between the café and the university library and went through a back alley.

“Let’s go,” John said, and with their guns loaded up with silver (hidden in their jackets), they hurried across the street and ducked into the alley.

But they didn’t see any trace of the guy. Both retrieved and cocked their guns, moving through the alley slowly.

Dean was usually good at this part. His ex-marine dad had trained him well, and he was focused. Alert.

Until something nagged at the back of his mind. A low hum as that connection flared to life. 

Oh fuck. His lips pursed. A persistent feeling of worry (that wasn’t his own) prickled in his chest, like fire ants across his skin. He tried his best to shut it out.

Not now.

You rushed out the library doors and inwardly bemoaned that it was practically nighttime. You were lucky if you still had a job by the time you got to work.

Damn it! Frustration and worry warred for dominance, but you couldn’t focus on that.

Not now.

You hesitated a moment. A weird feeling fluttered in your chest just then…

Ugh, whatever, you dismissed, shaking your head. I’m insane, it’s fine.

You ran to the street intersection and waited impatiently for the walking light to turn green. 

You looked both ways on the street. It was still red, but there was a window of opportunity in a short lull of cars. You could make it if you hurried.

So you did. You took your chance and ran halfway down the street, making it past the first wave of oncoming traffic. You just didn’t account for the truck that was turning the corner—from the opposite direction.

You had time to utter a scream before you dove for the sidewalk. A woman walking her dog helped you up, asking if you were okay.

You were and you weren’t, really. You were shaking, but you thanked the woman with a trembling smile. At this point, you didn’t care if you were fired. Five bucks an hour wasn’t worth getting splattered on a dusty pavement. 

Damn. Guess I’ll have to apply at Starbucks.

It was intense.

Your fear was like a searing hot knife ripping through Dean’s heart, and it tore a ragged sound from his throat as his knee buckled.

John’s head swiveled to him with wide eyes. “Dean—”

That was the opening their prey was waiting for. Or rather, the creature that was hunting them.

A large dog leapt from the roof of the café—behind and above them. It went for Dean first, biting into his arm through his jacket. Both of them went down as Dean struggled and the animal growled and tried to shred his arm. Dean almost didn’t feel the pain, but he felt panic of his own as he tried to pry the creature off by his canine ears. 

“Dean!”

He looked up at his dad, who stood with his gun aloft. Dean trusted him. He helped give an opening and moved his face away.

Three shots rang out.

The first two killed the skinwalker. The third was just for insurance, and maybe vengeance.

John helped Dean out from under the creature’s body, and they watched it transform back into its natural form. Coffee shop boy.

James, Dean read on his nametag.

“Rest in peace, Cujo,” he quipped, but by now the pain was finally registering. His arm wept with blood through his jacket, and he hissed in pain when his dad put firm pressure on the wound.

“What the fuck happened, Dean?” John demanded. “You got shit between your ears, or a working brain? Because whatever’s got you distracted, that’s how you get killed.”

His father’s anger wasn’t pleasant, but his disappointment was crushing.

Dean swallowed the pain, both physical and…and the rest. He just nodded and apologized.

“Sorry, Dad.”

John shook his head, but he continued leading Dean back to the car.

Back at the motel, John was able to stitch Dean up and wrap his arm. They had planned to leave after the hunt to save money on another motel night…but John agreed to give it one more day to let Dean rest on a real bed.

His son wasn’t just in pain. He was melancholy.

It was unusual for Dean, who normally kept up a decent attitude. And it wasn’t like him to slip up like that on a hunt. John could admit, things were different now without Sam. John was different.

Not that he’d been a picnic before. He knew that much. But maybe Sam leaving was harder than John cared to admit.

After he and Dean were showered up, John brought them back some takeout and beers. He gave Dean one, but before he turned on the TV, he hesitated. A twinge of sorry was at the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he asked, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

His son opened his mouth, a denial ready to fire.

“Don’t lie to me, son,” John said. “Just…tell me what happened today.”

It took a while to pry it out of him. He was resistant, and John expected that.

Dean, for his part, was trying to figure out what to say. How to say it.

Just then, he also remembered something Sam told him when he was only in sixth grade.

“Dean, did you know this? Human souls are really complex, and they’re unique too. We learned about it today in school.”

“Good for you, Super Geek.” 

“They found out that connected souls subconsciously try to find each other. So when you start hearing someone’s thoughts, it’s because the souls are trying to bond together, like molecules.”

Like molecules, huh?

Speaking of, Dean hadn’t heard your thoughts since that terrifying moment when he felt you…

For a moment, he’d thought you’d….

Though deep down, he knew you weren’t gone. He knew the bond was there, like an idle TV. Either you lived really close to this motel, or this HBO connection was getting a wider bandwidth.

“Dean?” John pressed.

Dean looked up, breaking from his thoughts. John didn’t often ask him to open up. But Dean figured if anyone would understand, it would probably be his dad.

He was forced to contemplate the question that had been scaring him all day.

Did he want the same soul bond his parents had, even if it nearly killed John after she died?

“…Dad, how did you and Mom meet?”

The question took John by surprise…but maybe it shouldn’t have. His perceptive gaze washed over Dean.

“It was after I came back from Vietnam,” John said eventually. “We ran into each other by the old movie theater.”

Dean smiled. “Aw, both of you were in line for Jaws?”

A resigned smile quirked at John’s lips. “That was ’75, genius. And no, we…literally ran into each other. Full speed. I went to help her up, but she was already doing it herself. Plus picking up everything that fell outta her bag. All I could do was stare at her like an idiot, ‘cause…I heard her say, God damn it.”

John had been lost in the memory for a moment, but here he looked at Dean.

“But she didn’t say it. She thought it,” he said. “And I knew it was her. She was it for me.”

“And she did too?” Dean asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“No,” John laughed a little. “She took some convincing, if I remember right.”

“What, she couldn’t hear your thoughts?”

“No, she could. But that…connection. It’s different in the beginning,” John said, with a heavy sigh. This was harder to talk about than he thought. For Dean, he would do it. But just this once.

“You don’t have so much control over it. It just kinda…happens.”

“And…how did that work, exactly?” Dean asked.

“Why do you want to know?” John returned. Dean quieted, looking down at his beer.

That was all the confirmation he needed to finally know what was going on. He sighed again.

“Son,” he started, then hesitated. He knew what he was about to say wasn’t completely right, but it was the truth. One day, Dean would understand.

“Son,” he said again. “Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean’s brows knit together, a silent question that he almost didn’t want to ask. John answered it anyway.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody,” he said.

Dean took those words to heart. He reminded himself that his dad had seen blood and war long before he met Mary. Maybe his dad had more regrets than just not being able to save her.

So the next morning, Dean slid into the Impala’s passenger seat. John drove them away from the college town, out of Vermillion, South Dakota.

Dean felt relieved, and also guilty. Then, the farther they got, he just felt wrong.

Soon enough, the warm tendril of connection in his chest dissipated.

AN: Phew! Okay, one major step closer to you and Dean finally meeting. I definitely drew on some of my own experiences at college here lol.

Read on to: Part 3.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[writeforfandoms]

Welcome to New York 3

Find the series masterlist

We’ve got a POV switch this chapter! Time to see what Miguel is thinking. Or, in which his friends pester the hell out of him. 

Warnings: Swearing, Miguel is Done with Everyone, Mayday being cute, everybody just terrorizes Miguel. 

Eventual Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Miguel was a busy man. Keeping the multiverse intact was not easy, no matter how much help he had. There were anomalies to keep track of and hunt down, Spider-people to corral, and his own world's problems to deal with. 

In short, he did not have time for this shit. 

"She wasn't a threat," Peter B. Parker, bane of Miguel's existence and continuous pain in his ass, said. "Mayday liked her!" 

"Your baby is not an accurate judge of character," Miguel ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Sure she is, she knows good people," Peter continued, aforementioned baby giggling from her spot against Peter's chest. "She wouldn't go to just anyone!"

"What is your point?" Miguel asked, turning away from Peter and back to his screens. He still needed reports from the last mission, and the list of anomalies waiting to be sent home was getting longer. Which meant they were behind on paperwork. (Well. Digital paperwork, but even so.) 

“My point is that you don’t have to be so suspicious of her.” Peter shrugged. “Might help your blood pressure to be less paranoid.”

“My blood pressure is fine.” Miguel flicked through another screen, frowning briefly. “Lyla, why hasn’t this report been filed with the rest?”

“I’m only doing about a hundred other things,” Lyla said, popping up reclining in an invisible seat. She pushed her glasses a little further up her nose, looking supremely unimpressed. “If you want the reports done I’ll have to stop some other process.”

Miguel clenched his jaw. “Seriously?”

“Yup.” She popped the p, just to be annoying. Miguel had not programmed her to be this annoying. He had no idea where that came from. 

“And Spider-Byte?” 

“Busy.” Lyla shrugged. “She’s got stuff on her plate.” 

Miguel dropped his head. Of course. Hundreds, thousands, of Spider-people, and it was like herding cats - unless there was a clear threat, there was a lot of doing whatever they wanted. 

“You do have some other options.”

Miguel picked his head up to look at Lyla. “No.”

“Shouldn’t you at least listen?” Peter piped up. “What’s your idea, Lyla?”

“Weeeeeeell.” Lyla glitched out to reappear next to Peter, cheshire grin in place. “We do know someone who is really good at organizing things, and researching, and put together a beautifully organized timeline and comparison chart on her own free time.”

“No,” Miguel said, though he felt like nobody was listening to him. (Which was true - Lyla and Peter both ignored him.) 

“Wow, sounds like a great potential employee!” Peter’s grin was amused. “You should do something about that, Miguel.”

Miguel groaned softly. He was not going to kill Peter. That would cause more problems than he wanted to deal with. “I’m not bringing her in.”

“Why not?” Peter shrugged. “Sounds like she’s got all the skills you need right now, and you won’t have to try to corral anyone else into doing it. Frees up Lyla’s time, helps everyone in the long run.”

“She’s not one of us.” 

“And? You’ve okayed jobs for three other non-Spiders in the caf.” 

Dammit, Miguel had forgotten about that. He’d known that was a dangerous precedent to set. 

But he got lucky - Lyla switched back to actually working. 

“Looks like an anomaly popped up on Earth-5119,” she reported. 

“I’m on it.” At this point, jumping through an interdimensional portal to avoid this problem seemed like a great idea. 

“This isn’t over!” Peter yelled, even as Miguel dived into the portal. 

Miguel had three days of peace from that particular argument. Not that it was an argument. Because his mind was made up. 

“Heard something interesting today.”

Miguel grunted, glancing back at Jess, which was close enough to admitting he was paying attention. 

“Margo told me she had a look through the filing system. Apparently it’s in rough shape.” Jess leaned one hip against his desk, arms crossed loosely over her chest. 

Miguel grunted. Yeah, he knew that. Lyla knew that. This was not news, nor was it interesting. 

“Apparently it’s keeping several anomalies from being sent home.”

“And?” Miguel tried not to snap. He did. But he was busy and this was not news. 

“She wants help, since she’s got other things to do too.”

Miguel stopped. Turning slowly to face Jess, he narrowed his eyes at her. But she was immune, holding his stare easily, one eyebrow quirked. “Which one put you up to this?”

“Nobody did. Margo asked for help, that’s all.” Her smirk was all amusement, though. “And I asked Lyla for suggestions.”

One hand lifted and pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. He knew where this was going. “The answer is no.” 

“You didn’t even let me get it out.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Miguel.” 

He looked away first, swearing under his breath. Jess had a very effective disappointed parent voice, he was quite sure it would come in handy with her little one on the way. “What?” 

“I know you have a thing about non-Spiders in the building,” she started, and then paused a moment. “Well. In this part of the building.”

He scoffed. She was not wrong, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

“But we could use the help,” Jess continued, unphased by his attitude. “You and I both know that trying to get one of us to do all that work is not gonna happen.”

Miguel made a face. He did not want to admit she was right, but, well… Margo was unwitting proof of that. And the thought of trying to make any of the Parkers do something like this? It would never get done. 

“Bringing her in would guarantee things would get tagged correctly,” Jess continued, clearly trying to sway him. “In a timely manner, even.” 

“I don’t trust her.” Miguel shifted his weight, planting his hands on his hips. 

“So set someone to watch her for a week.” Jess shrugged. “Have you even checked in on her since you saw her?” 

No. No he hadn’t. Lyla was supposed to let him know if anything happened, since she had access to cameras across the city. 

“Look, if you’re that worried about her, set someone to watch her for a week,” Jess offered, waving one hand while the other propped on her hip. “Make it a training exercise for a few recruits.” 

It wasn’t a bad suggestion, actually. And he hated that he was considering it, that he was even thinking of bringing you into this. You were not to be trusted. There was no way you had really just gathered all that information just because you could. 

But Jess was right - the work did need to get done. 

“I’ll think about it.” A little white lie. He had thought about it. 

Jess narrowed her eyes at him a little before she nodded once. “Go get something to eat,” she threw back at him as she turned away. “You’re looking peckish.” 

Miguel scoffed to himself. He was not! Besides, he had work to do still. 

Since nobody else was going to work on getting the information filed and tagged correctly, he’d just do it himself. 

He lasted less than a week. Six days of going through the information and tagging it in between the thousand other things he had to do. His temper, always short, grew even shorter, until he actually threw an empanada at Peter B. Parker. (It was one of the rare times he did not have Mayday with him, because Miguel never would have thrown anything even close to Mayday.) 

“Is this a bad time?” Jess asked dryly, looking at the smear of empanada on the wall. 

“What do you want.” Miguel couldn’t even make it a question, voice flat. 

“Got an SOS from Earth-10436, two anomalies slipped through there.”

Miguel didn’t react for a moment. Two anomalies. “Peter, you’re with me. Get Spider-Noir, too.” His mask materialized around his head. 

As soon as Peter was gone, Miguel took a moment to look at Jess. 

“You still serious about that side project?”

To her credit, Jess caught on immediately. “Sure am.”

“Fine. You’re in charge. Two week watch, minimum. I want a full report at the end of it.” He narrowed his eyes at her, aware the motion transferred through the mask.

“I’ll take care of it.” Jess turned and sauntered out, subtly smug in her way. 

Miguel wanted to be mad that he’d given in, but mostly he was just tired. One deep breath and he took off. Time to go take care of some anomalies. 

He could admit, to himself, much later, that maybe they needed the help. Him trying to do it all wasn’t sustainable (as evidenced by the healing gash in his side where he’d gotten careless). And if, as he suspected, you were not trustworthy, he’d simply find someone for the job. 

Not that he’d admit as much to Lyla, not unless he really needed to. 

Allowing himself to groan as he collapsed into bed, Miguel starfished out. If only the multiverse would stop misplacing people and cooperate. If only. 

Two weeks passed in a blur. Two new Spider-people were brought in. Canon continued to be maintained in all universes. 

In other words, things continued about as smoothly as could be expected. Something that Miguel never took for granted, considering the absolute chaos that life could be. 

That didn’t mean he was exactly pleased when Jess sent him her report. Lyla had even helpfully attached the pictures from the surveillance. 

Jess had nothing but good things to say. Which would be suspicious, but Miguel knew Jess. She wouldn’t sugarcoat things, wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this. 

“Lyla.”

“Yeah?” The AI appeared in a flash of yellow, watching him. 

“I need an employment contract.” Miguel clenched his jaw, half-hating that he was doing this. But. If it would help them, it would be worth it.

“I’m sorry, you need what?” Lyla grinned, buffing her nails. 

“An employment contract.” Miguel knew what was coming before she even said it. 

“What’s the magic word?” Lyla looked up at him from behind her heart-shaped glasses, mischief clear in the curve of her smile.

“...Please draw up an employment contract.” Miguel tried not to sound too angry, because she’d just make him repeat it.

“Yeah, already done.” Lyla waved one hand, pulling up the contract on the nearest pad. “Have fun reading!” 

Sometimes (often times) that little AI was more trouble than she was worth. At least, that’s what Miguel told himself as he sat down to read through the contract.

The sooner he got this taken care of, the better.

[river13245]

Witchcraft and adoration

Navigation / SPN Masterlist

Rowena x Male Reader

"we are going to have to call her Dean" Sam says as he's looking through all the books they currently had to try to help their current situation in any way they could.

Dean glares at him from across the table in the main room and shakes his head. "No absolutely not"

Sam just shakes his head at his brothers stubbornness and goes back to reading the book he was currently on. But even after hours of doing research his own eyes had started to hurt so he decided to take a break. "I'm not getting anything. There's nothing we might have to Dean. I know we don't trust her but its not the worst idea we have ever done"

The oldest brother sighs and stands up grabbing himself a drink. "Damnit. You know she's just going to come here and cause trouble right? Remember what happened last time she was around us?"

Both the brothers recall exactly what had happened last time Rowena was around the four of you. Rowena had been giving you looks from across the room and eventually that turned into you coming over and flirting with her. Having no shame in your game what so ever.

You were one of their best friends growing up as you were also raised in the hunting business. This resulted in you guys being around each other a lot but also away so as the years went on Dean had taught you how to flirt and pick of women or men. While you and Sam had flirted a lot throughout the years he fell in love with Jess and nothing ever happened between the two of you which the both of you were fine with you two were close friends.

However they both had grown protective over you and so seeing you flirting with the enemy was a BIG no for them. "Okay so maybe we just keep them two separate from each other" Dean says and Sam nods.

Its to late though because you had heard the last sentence as you walked downstairs. You were about to pick up some groceries when you overheard them talking. "Who are you keeping separate from each other?"

Dean takes a drink out of his glass leaving it up to his brother to take over. "We are having a few people come by to help us with this case since none of us have been able to figure anything to solve it and two of them don't like each other"

Now did you believe what Sam was saying. No. His voice was coming off very matter of fact and when he is speaking truth he doesn't have to seem so convincing. However you choose to ignore it and just nod. "Okay well you two have fun with these friends of yours. I'm going to the store anything you guys want while I'm there?"

You grab a jacket of yours and put it on since its been cold recently with the Christmas weather around the corner. Before you walk out the door you hear the both of them yell out what they want. "Pie, Fruits and vegetables"

"okay if I'm not back after an hour I'm dead" They both glare at you when you say that causing you to laugh and walk out.

As soon as they hear your car start and pull out the drive way is when Sam pulls out his phone. "I cant believe we are actually asking her for help" Dean grumbles like a child and Sam rolls his eyes as he presses the contact and it rings.

"hello boys" Rowena's voice comes through the speaker. "screw something up already?" She teased but was completely serious. Which resulted in Dean speaking "No we haven't. But Sam here thinks we need your help"

Dean not having much manners doesn't hide the fact he is unhappy with this arrangement. So Sam speaks "Rowena we need your help. Will you help us we cant find anything in the books or we wouldn't have called"

There is silence through the other end for a moment before she speaks. "well I hate to be one of these people but what's in it for me?"

The brothers look at each other for a moment "world peace should be good enough of a reward"

She laughs "oh please where is the fun in that. I guess we will just have to figure something out then hm." There's a pause for a moment "is the pretty boy there?"

They can hear the smile forming on her face and they sigh as Sam speaks "He went out. You might miss him if you don't come over now"

A beep is the only thing they here in response. They think she had chosen not to but when footsteps are heard across the wood floor they see her. Her red hair curled and falling down her shoulders nicely. She had also put on a nice outfit and they knew exactly who she was trying to impress.

Dean walks up to her glaring at her. "listen if you even think about flirting with him or even Looking at him with those eyes of yours ill kill you"

She smirks and places her hand on his shoulder. "oh Dean I'm not intimidated by you. I'm here to help you show me what you need me to do"

Sam brings her to all the things they had been researching and she nods and they get ingredients all out before she begins to slowly use her witchcraft. Making sure to do this correctly.

About an hour goes by and she's still there and you walk in through the door. "okay boys I've got everything for Sam's healthy smoothies cause he's a freak and Deans pie"

You look up and see the both of them looking at you "what?"

"Well took you long enough. I was beginning to think I would have to stall for even longer" You turn your head to look at Rowena and a small smile forms on your lips. "hello gorgeous sorry for keeping you waiting"

Sam grabs the bags from you and puts things away but not before telling the both of you to stop flirting. "well Sam if you and Dean don't want to watch us flirt I suggest you both remove yourselves from the room"

This causes the both of them to roll their eyes and they both leave and go to the kitchen. They knew that you liked her but you also wouldn't let her screw anything up for them. So as soon as they left the room you walk behind Rowena and look at what she's doing. "what are you doing with all these ingredients?"

She rests against you a little as if her body couldn't help but gravitate towards yours. "well watch and ill teach you a little something" A smile forms on your face as you place your chin on her shoulder lightly. "yes ma'am you have my full attention"

You could have sworn you seen her cheeks turn red but she chose to not draw attention to it. She began to show you slowly how to do simple things. She left out some of the steps because she didn't need you to know everything. If you wanted to learn how to do witchcraft she would teach you simple things first.

As she explained some of the steps to you. You listened to her words and after a while you were wondering why the boys weren't in here yet but you had a good idea of who is stopping them from being able to and she's right here with you.

Even when you knew she was trying to focus on the task at hand you couldn't help but want to get a reaction from her so you began to kiss her shoulder and to her neck and as you did you felt her relax and try to continue to work.

However when you got to her collarbone she leaned back and brought her hand to turn your face to look at her. "As much as this is amazing. I've got to finish this and what if Sam and Dean see you kissing me like this?"

Your response was shrugging your shoulders. "well they wouldn't be able to say anything. If i want you im gonna be with you" This results in her placing a quick kiss to your lips. Then you speak again "plus Sam was into a demon at one point in time and we are all pretty sure Dean had a thing for a vampire named Benny and now hes with an angel so"

She laughs and nods "okay well then you still need to back up so i can focus on this and not you" You nod and back away and go to the kitchen and let the both of them out.

When the three of you walk back to the room Rowena is finished with her work and walks over and hands it to Dean. "here now I believe you said there was something in it for me"

"what do you want and don't say what I think you are" He tries to sound stern but when she looks at you he sighs and Sam crosses his arms. "it might be a little to late for your opinions boys"

They give her a questioning look as she walks over to you and pulls you into a kiss and your hands go to her waist leaning into it and before you could stop her she magically takes her back to her home and then un connects your lips

The night is filled with her teaching you a little about witchcraft then movies and dinner. You knew she would let you leave at any time but tonight it was the last thing you wanted to do.

----

The boys back at the bunker both look at each other and try to grab onto you so you didn't go with her but they were to late. They weren't really worried about her keeping you hostage because even if they hated the fact...they knew she really did like you.

"oh come on!" Dean yells and Sam just laughs a little

"well they never were one to listen to well" Sam says

[ihhfhonao3]

you know, i think you're pretty based honestly

every so often i see posts made by proshippers (not that often cause i dont purposefully go out and look at ship discourse) and find myself agreeing with a lot of it. seems to just be anti harassment and anti censorship at its core (unlike what ive been told) which i can absolutely get behind. i think maybe i should look into that

I’m not gonna tell you what you should and shouldn’t identify as, but I will say that the proship community has been extremely helpful to me. Basically, I used to identify as an anti, condemning people for making “icky” things I didn’t like. But I eventually caught myself justifying things that just weren’t right- I convinced myself that genuine threats of violence against people who really were just having fun was okay. And I stepped back and realized that wait, that actually isn’t a cool thing to be okay with. I should actively vouch against it, actually.

Skipping over the research period, asking active proshippers what the label meant to them and realizing that my definition was incorrect and stuff like that, I started using the proship label and became active in the community. And I realized that it was really the community that I’d rather be in- one that was based around kindness and freedom to do as you please instead of hate and strict rules.

I definitely recommend that people do look deeper into what being a proshipper actually means, rather than just parroting the idea that they’ve been spreading for years on end. Just in general, I think it’s very important to consistently ask yourself why you believe in certain stances- why you think this is good and this is bad, this is moral and this is not. Because even though the answer may seem incredibly obvious, blindly supporting and blindly being against something, without any real idea of why you support or against said something, is a very unwise thing to do and is one of the ways that people get pulled into these (oftentimes bigoted) echo chambers of concepts without realizing it.

I think it’s good that you’re rethinking some of the things you’ve been told! I feel that too many people nowadays, online and just in general, are very stubborn and afraid of change. Nobody really ever likes to be wrong about something. But everyone is gonna be wrong about something eventually. What matters is how we react to our being wrong- whether we accept it with grace and try to change from it, or double down and deny everything.

I’d much rather be with the people who own it and change accordingly, yknow?