#also don’t bother using google translate to translate this

[s1xseasonsandamov1e]

i love that i can speak danish on here and no one will get it cause tumblr can’t translate danish

jeg fucking hader skole. er det sårn man staver hader? jeg burde have skrevet et eller andet meningsfuldt men det var det eneste jeg kunne komme på. for cirkus en måned siden sagde noget jeg dengang synes var virkelig sjovt men det var på dansk så jeg kunne ikke ligge (lægge?) det op på tumblr. “jeg vil ønske jeg havde en indbagt tvilling” … fordi jeg har en ikke “indbagt” (enægget) tvilling. det var sgu egentlig ikke så sjovt men whatever

[zeichannnnn]

⚠️ In regards to the natlan controversy (and Sumeru by proxy)

Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.

Please read this fully for the reality of things I'm sorry for getting political, skip if you don't want to interact

I’m kinda sad at the fact that a lot of people are quick to hate, judge, and scrutinise Hoyo without understanding the situation.

With recent teaser of Natlan characters, people are rightfully upset at the fact that the characters shown to hail from Natlan… don’t exactly look the part. With characters lighter than my own skin tone (I’m a Chinese Southeast Asian by the way, heya) people are calling hoyo bullshit and accusing them of being a racist for failing time and time again at giving us characters with POC shades of skin. Now I’m not here to defend Mihoyo for their actions, or to tell you to stop being mad at the situation being the way they are. No, I’m here to shed you some light of how life is as a game company under the rule of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and Xin Jin Ping (XJP cause I won’t be bothered to type his whole ass name)

I've highlighted points of each section

Any pages that requires translations, I recommend using DeepL instead of google translate because you can check the meanings of specific words and it's translation are better (imo)

Skip to the last part if you just want a summarised version

Before we get into the nitty gritty that is Genshin drama, I'll give you a run-down on what and how China works.

check the part "In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it" if you want to go straight on to the point

People’s Republic of China

is a Unitary Marxist–Leninist one-party socialist republic. This means that China is under a one-party (Chinese Communist Party) rule with communism ideology on how they rule and govern the country and socialist standards for how they manage their economy and everything else. [.]

The CCP holds a very nationalistic view

[.] which is commonly used as propaganda [.] for them to garner either sympathy or control over the people of China. These nationalistic view, in its raw and most rudest form, simply states that Chinese people are pure by upholding traditional Chinese culture (that's not even traditionally Chinese, more or less more catered towards communism and the CCP's ideologies which are that they're great and everyone else is wrong) and not mixing themselves or tainting themselves with things that are not pure (i.e. anything that isn't Chinese, from China, belongs to China) This nationalistic views, which glorifies China and detests anything foreign (i.e. culture, language, people, etc.) have led to a lot of xenophobia being built and nurtured inside of China's society [1] [2] [3]

Aside from the CCP's nationalistic views,

China's society is very censored and monitored by the CCP

[.] Google, YouTube, or more specifically, the internet itself is heavily banned by the government, electing the people to use the CCP's private internet that allows them to be monitored 24/7 through IP location and private information. [1] [2] [3] [4] Aside from heavily monitored and controlled internet access, people in the real world are also actively being watched and monitored through CCTV with facial recognition features and an AI that can predict people's action (yes, exactly like the akasha, and yes, Sumeru arc is based on reality, I won't talk about it here but feel free to read between the lines and compare it with the sources and news articles I'm about to drop on you) [1] [2. Behind paywall] [3] [4] [5]

With its censorship in mind, let us talk about what brings us all here:

the gaming censorship in China.

In order for a game to be published in China, whether it's made by an indie or a multi-billion dollar company, the game has to go through a complicated preliminary test made and assigned by the CCP to play, test, and go through your game before publishing it anywhere in Chinese media [.] This test includes you company's paperwork, your game's paperwork, the things you're displaying in your game, and the story it's trying to tell. There are not that many rules on what should and should not appear inside of your game, such as: polyamory, the undead (in both graphic and non-graphic manner), etc. That should be considered tame and should cause no problem, however, we do have a problem with one of the rule given which is: Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity.

Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity

in the article I've mentioned before, describes it as "Games should impart “correct” information on politics, law, and history, as interpreted by the authorizing agency." Now what does "correct" information entail? Who fucking knows because truth is relative. Facts, when in the eyes of the CCP, are relative to what they believe is to be right and what they want us to believe is right.

Now with that out of the way, let us get into the main deal.

MiHoYo

(not to be confused with Hoyoverse/Cognosphere which is their international branch) is a is a Chinese video game development and publishing company, founded by three classmates from university Cai Haoyu, Liu Wei, and Luo Yuhao [.] That means that Genshin Impact's development, ever since it was at its infancy, first-established days, and updates until the near future, are all subjected onto that game censorship law that I mentioned earlier. Now you might all be wondering, what does all of those rules have to do with genshin characters having dark skins? To that I point you towards the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are and have been actively working together ever since around September 2021. [1] [2]

Cooperation between MiHoYo and the CCP

Ever since Genshin Impact's massive hit both nationally and internationally, its massive fanbase has hit the internet no one has ever seen before. It is the first ever Chinese game that has gotten world wide acclaim and with that, new eyes begin to look upon China. It is no surprise to anyone that Genshin is very particular about showing and promoting Chinese culture to the outside world. Genshin has somehow become the face to Chinese culture in just a year, with limited events such as Lantern Rite and Moonchase festival to showcase China's cultural beauty. With world-wide acclaim comes a price, wherein the CCP no longer treats Genshin as "another game" but a tool that they can use to promote and advertise themselves into the global population.

Begin the censorship and micro-manipulation of things in Genshin

New gaming censorship dropped after the Genshin Impact became a hit in the industry, with even Venti and Gorou as examples of characters that should not appear in media published in China (effeminate man) [.] In additional to the list I've linked in the "the gaming censorship in China" section, a lot more additional rules have been added to that list, such as: queer representation, morally grey character, but I what I want you to look at more is the section where "historical elements, including characters, maps and clothing, should conform with mainstream accounts." in addition to that, a self-regulation pact was made between game companies and the CCP that bans any and all content that is deemed "politically harmful" and "historically nihilistic." Now focus more onto that "historically nihilistic" point, what does that mean?

Historical nihilism

is a term used by the CCP and many Chinese scholars to describe research or discussions deemed to contradict an official state version of history in a manner perceived to question or challenge the legitimacy of the CCP [.] TLDR; it's a term used for when what you're saying clashes or goes against what the CCP said. Why is this important you may ask? It's because that now, at this point, if anything Genshin does something—whether that'd be plotline, design etc.—that the CCP thinks shouldn't exist or be represented, they have the lawful right to block or stop it from reaching the final product. Now this, this is what happened to Genshin's Sumeru and Natlan cast.

In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it

white has always been a predominant part of modern Chinese beauty culture, for some reason (I don't know and I'm not going to go that deep into it, research it on your own if you're curious) In fact, it's not only China but also Asian culture in general. White skin has always been hailed as pure and beautiful here in Asia, where the line "as pale as the moon" is a common compliment to give to someone. Skin colour that are tan or even darker are connected to being dirty or stinky. Despite the younger generation not really adhering to that view, the older generation (calling out the CCP here) upholds that standard till this day. Pin straight hair, round eyes, pale white skin, and a thin figure are the standards put upon those born as female. Their male counterpart are not that different, with lean and fit being the preferred body type rather than big muscles or bulky forms.

The reason behind why this is the case is because of Asia's strict social code in rules and appearances. We must appear prim and clean, that means no dyed hair, no tattoos, no piercings, and minimal make-up. Anyone that goes against those rules are regarded as delinquents or deviants that usually break the rules and do criminal activities (despite it not being the case) Having a bulky stature also applies to that list, regardless of what gender you are, and especially for men. You're regarded as dangerous, criminal, bad influence if you look like that in public (this is why we don't have that much bulky characters gang and why we were robbed of heavy muscles Itto orz) (he deffo was very bulky in the original design, probably similar to the Nobushi but it got nerfed in final product)

Given all of that in mind, it's no wonder that Sumeru's and and Natlan's casts are mostly white... but were they always that way?

The original skin colour design for Natlan cast might've been darker than what we have in the final product.

As a lot of people have mentioned (especially with the many beautiful edits I'm very fond of) the character designs for Natlan's new up-coming rosters looks better with darker skin tone. Take for examples this edit right here:

taken from @ rarepairz on twitter [source]

Their designs (with darker skin tones) seem to pop more, giving highlights onto their clothes and accessories in comparison to the original design. Here are more examples of this happening:

taken from @ Wabs_nabs on twitter [source]

It is especially clear to anyone with basic colour theory that the colour used for designing the clothes and accessories and highlights in the hair look better with darker skin colour. There is *intent* on making it this way in comparison to woeful ignorance of making them look white as hell. If they were to intentionally to make the characters look white, they would've chosen a better colour for the clothes, less bolder ones and eye-popping ones to contrast with the already luminescent light that's emitting from the skin.

And this is not the case for only Natlan, by the way! The same thing happened when the Sumeru cast was first leaked. Case in point this:

taken from @ animuswonder on twitter [source]

and my personal art of Cyno and Nari:

Look at how much contrast there is between their colour palette or how much resonance there is, with Cyno his more cold-colour attire and hair, in comparison to his deep dark warm skin or Tighnari that's the epitome of a "spring girl" like come on man. There's INTENT in those designs, to have more darker shades than they are in the game. Sadly, they just can't do it due to censorships. Why? Because, as I have mentioned before, darker shades of skin are represented as dirt here in Asia as we glorify pale skin more.

The representation of uniqueness and differences in Chinese game is not common due the fact that most Asian countries are homogenous, which means they prefer everyone and everything to be the same, to look the same, and follow and do the same things. They do not advocate for uniqueness, they do not advocate for individuality, they advocate for us to conform and to follow like a sheep in a herd. Because of that, most people spend their whole life trying to whiten up their skin, keeping them light, and those who are darker than most are shown prejudiced and scrutinised.

Mentioning again the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are working closely together, Genshin Impact is currently being used as a cultural weapon by the government. With MiHoYo showing numerous time that they've donate and support Chinese cultural heritage, the CCP is using that fact and holding control over Genshin as a way to promote and advertise sympathy towards Chinese culture and the Communist regime by proxy. It's like how your parents are getting you to eat broccoli brownies in hopes that you'd eat normal broccolis and other vegetables by proxy. Everything and anything that Genshin shows in its game are now under close inspections of the CCP and colourism especially will not fly-by their radar.

In conclusion

Your anger and hatred towards the new characters’ designs are justified, however the person you aim those anger and hatred should not be towards Mihoyo, or Liu Wei, or any of the staff members but towards the situation and the laws and the local government MiHoYo has to adhere to.

We're already lucky to have MiHoYo even wanting to represent and shpw different cultures from different parts of the world, telling us engaging stories, and incentivising us to think more and to be be more of us instead of following the crowd and to judge those in power (if you are literate and have the ability of a 6th grader, you know the theme Genshin Impact is showing in its story). In a world where they aren't able to live as freely as people outside of mainland do, they shouldn't have to put their life at risk by creating a game that goes against the CCP's laws that will lead to a deduction to their social points (yes, those actually exist, WAKE UP). Yet they do, they update every month, telling stories, creating characters with many characteristics that goes against Chinese gaming laws, just for us to enjoy.

Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.

You are right to be mad, you are right to be upset, but do not condemn them for something they hold no power to. It's between their lives and your fantasies and if you choose to value your delusion over their livelihood then that just shows what kind of a person you are.

Where's this conviction towards other game companies aside from MiHoYo? Where's the rightful air when it comes to companies that breathe much fresher air? Do they not have the same responsibility? Or is it because you actually do not care and merely want to point your unbridled emotions towards something or someone? If so, you're pointing at the wrong person.

[sinofwriting]

Girls Are Private Creatures - Pierre Gasly & Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,399 Summary: Pierre and her have always been best friends, having a baby together didn't change or complicate that until he says something he doesn't mean to. Note(s): Was very fun to write and somehow Charles managed to sneak in his way into this as a love interest, still not too sure how that happened, lol. This is a one off, no part two, sorry everyone! Also, I don’t speak french and while I didn’t use google translate for the french, I still used a translator.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Ah, there are my favorite girls!” Charles exclaims, jogging over to them, exchanging kisses on the cheek with her before taking the baby out of her arms. Elodie gives him a gummy smile and he coos at her, nosing at her hair, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, a giggle leaving her because of the smacking sound it makes. “So, beautiful, Miss Elodie. I shall have to keep you and your maman close.”

She shakes her head at the poor wink Charles gives her, but gives a nod, stepping beside him as he begins to walk around the grid.

“Is that Elodie?” Max asks, as they start to pass the Red Bull garage. “Can I?” He asks, looking at her, with his arms already reached out to take her from Charles. Charles pouts at her, but she ignores him, looking at her content baby. “Elodie.” Her little head turns to look her way. “You want to go to Uncle Max?” Elodie gives a little squeal at the name, hands shaking and she smiles, nodding. Max eagerly takes the baby from Charles' arms. “I can’t believe you are letting Max Verstappen hold her.” He pouts. “You are just mad, your Elodie time got cut short.” She playfully scolds, bumping their hips together. He pokes his bottom lips further out for a second, before throwing an arm over her shoulder, tugging her close for a side hug as they watch Max talk to Elodie, bringing her into the Red Bull garage and pointing out different things to her.

“How are you feeling?” She sighs, drawing away from Charles. “I’m fine, Cha. You don’t need to worry about me.” He frowns at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are my friend. I will of course worry.” He then tilts his head to nod at her face. “You have circles, chéri.” “I have a six month old. Sleep is not a blessing I get.” Her french accent is thicker and his eyebrows raise, her upset clear just from that. “You only get circles when you are worried and not sleeping. What is happening?” She swallows, eyes locked on Elodie who now is babbling to Max in her babytalk, the driver has such a serious look on his face, as though he understands every word of it and is taking notes. The words are bubbling up in her but she sees Christian joining Max and Elodie and upon spotting her, he smiles waving her over. “It is nothing, Cha.” She shakes her head, giving him a smile, before reaching forward to squeeze his arm. “Let me know if you’d like to stay the night with us. Elodie always loves seeing her godfather.” “Of course.” He murmurs, watching as she leaves to join the trio in the Red Bull garage and before he can think better of it, he’s moving to Alpine’s garage.

He’s easily able to get to Pierre’s drivers room and he doesn’t bother knocking, just throws the door open, uncaring of the near naked state of his best friend and his protests as he shuts the door behind him, hands settling on his hips.

“What is wrong?” “Charles!” Pierre is looking at him with wide eyes, a hand over his crotch despite the fact that he has underwear on and it’s nothing that Charles hasn’t seen before. “Get out!” “Non. What is going on? Y/N and Elodie are here, you are nowhere to be seen. She isn’t sleeping and is worried about something but won’t say what.” Charles pokes at his chest, harshly, ignoring the yelp it earns him. “What did you do?” “Why is it me who did something?” He protests, the hand that has been hovering over his crotch, moving to rub at the spot Charles had poked. The younger looks at him unimpressed. Pierre sighs, sitting on his massage table. “I, uh, I fucked up.” “That is obvious.” “Thank you, calmar.” Charles shrugs. “I said it was a mistake.” His brows furrow. “What was a mistake?” Pierre winces and he braces himself on the table. “All of it. Us kissing and then starting our, uh, benefits. And uh Elodie.”

His head wipes to the side before he knows it and he can feel the sting on his cheek and something a bit wet on his lip. His tongue darts out and he can taste a bit of blood.

“Tête de noeud.” Dickhead. Charles spits out, glaring at one of his oldest friends. “Comment pourriez-vous dire une telle chose, penser une telle chose.” How could you say such a thing, think such a thing. “Je sais.” I know. “No, vous ne faites pas de lien. Elle est votre fille.” Charles hisses. No, you don’t. She is your daughter. “Et elle est votre plus grande partisane, la seule personne qu'elle aime le plus est Elodie et pour vous,” He stops himself, shaking his head. Anger and sick tangling together and sitting heavy in his stomach. And she is your biggest supporter, the only person she loves more is Elodie and for you too, “Je ne peux même pas te regarder. Tu me dégoûtes, Pierre. Je ne veux pas vous voir près d'eux ou moi. Et j'espère que personne ne s'en posera la question. I’m not feeling kind.” I can’t even look at you. You disgust me, Pierre. I don’t want to see you near them or me. And hope that no one asks about this.

Before Pierre can say anything else, he leaves throwing the door opening and ignoring the looks from fucking Esteban of all people as he leaves the stupid French garage.

Hours later as she burps Elodie, humming softly as she walks around the hotel room, she hears a knock.

“Charles.” She greets, opening it. “Chéri.” He greets back, pressing a kiss to her cheek before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “She ate already.” He notes with disappointment, spotting the cloth over her shoulder. She throws him a sorry look as Elodie lets out a burp, making them both tell her good job and she pats for a few more seconds before rubbing at her back. “She’s been hungrier recently. You missed out by ten minutes.” “Is she still eating at night?” He asks, taking Elodie from her and cooing at the baby, rubbing their noses together just to see her little eyes go cross eyed before pressing a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of baby with a bit of vanilla from that perfume he had bought Y/N for Christmas last year. She watches him with an amused smile. He always did the same thing with Elodie. “She wasn’t, but for the past few days, yes.” “Perfect.” He beams. “I will take the midnight feed.” “Cha,” she warns. “You have free practice tomorrow. You don’t need to exhaust yourself.” “It is free practice. Besides, I've driven the tractor hungover once already this season. I can handle a little free practice with some exhaustion.” He rolls his eyes at the idea of being exhausted from Elodie. She was many things but never exhausting and he tells her that.

“Exhausting, miss Elodie. Why I’ve never heard such a lie!” The baby giggles at his exaggerated tone and expressions, little hand going up to rest on his cheek and he pretends to eat it making her squeal. “Exactly! Your maman is crazy for saying so.” She stares at the two, feeling a pang in her heart as she’s reminded of all the times Pierre did something similar.

He always wanted the late night feeds, really any feeds he could get. He took all the diaper changes too, uncaring of the blowouts or when she started to move more how difficult it could be to get a new diaper on.

Tears prick in her eyes as she thinks of him, a weird concoction of sadness and anger dwelling in her. She knew he had been lying when he said that Elodie was a mistake. Pierre loved being a father. It hadn’t been something he wanted so young or expected but he loved Elodie, truly loved her. She was less sure about them kissing for that first time and then continuously falling into bed together. He could think of that as a mistake. But it was a mistake that led to Elodie. So could it really be one when it gave them such a perfect baby?

“Pierre told me what he said.” Charles murmurs after he sets Elodie on her playmat, which she grunts at before getting distracted by the toys hanging in front of her. She shudders, arms going over her chest. “He is a dick.” “Not in front of Elodie, Charles.” She warns. She didn’t care that Elodie couldn’t truly understand what they were saying or even hear them. She wouldn’t have Pierre insulted in front of her. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, eyes flickering over to her before returning to Elodie whose babbling. “He shouldn’t have said those things.” “He shouldn’t have said that she was a mistake.” She corrects. “Pierre can say what he pleases about me, not her. Never her.” She murmurs. “Nor you. If you won’t stand for him saying such things for Elodie, which I will as well, I won’t stand for him saying such things about you.” “He didn’t mean it, Cha.” She shakes her head. “He loves her, adores her. Do not burn bridges you’ll regret.” “For you, I could never.” Her eyes snap away from Elodie and meet his eyes. “Charles.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say anything. I’m just telling you. You are worth more than he has given and ever thought of giving you. And if,” he pauses, lifting her hand, her left hand, to his lips. “You ever want to give us a chance, I will be here. And even if you don’t, I will still always be here for Elodie and you.” She watches with wide eyes as he presses another kiss to her hand before dropping it and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Lay down, relax, chéri. I will take care of Elodie.”

She does lay down, but she is unable to relax. Because hadn’t Pierre teased for the last year and a half that Charles had a thing for her? Something she ignored, thinking he was pulling her leg, being a little shit like normal. But to know it was true, to learn the truth of it. It sat heavy in her heart and god it aches at the thought of Charles and his feelings.

Charles wasn’t perfect, no one was, except for Elodie, but that was a bias that the majority of them had when it came to her little girl, but he was amazing even with his faults. His people pleasing ways, pushing his feelings away, not putting himself first, the anger he sometimes carried with him, the grief that still sat heavy on his shoulders. But there were his pluses as well, his dedication and focus to racing, his love for his friends and family, his ability to not have to be on all the time, to be able to sit at home or somewhere and chill, and his patience. He was unbelievably patient but also knew when to push, to not give up or in.

Something warm starts to bubble in her as she considers, admittedly not for the first time, a relationship with Charles. The way he’d come home to her and Elodie after days away. The sweaty hugs after getting out of the car. The dinners and vacations with his family. The gentle way he’d touch and hold her. Not like she was fragile, but something important. And Elodie, the way he’d be with Elodie, more so than he already was. She can see the days and nights when they have Elodie, not Pierre, how they’d put her to sleep together, play with her, read to her. Watch as she crawls and then toddles around. Can see him bringing her around Monaco to the spots he grew up with as a child and sharing them with Elodie.

The thoughts and near dreams are overwhelming but in the best way possible. However there is Pierre to consider. He wouldn’t disappear from their lives, he could never, not just because of Elodie, but because he was a best friend to both of them. He would always exist with them and she knew that Charles could handle her past with Pierre, he had already dealt with the knowledge, had a constant reminder of said past in front of him in the form of Elodie. But would Pierre be able to handle her and Elodie having a future with Charles?

They weren’t in love with each other. They certainly loved each other, but there was a reason that they only had sex and never went on dates and always made faces at the jokes and ideas of being together. Sex was a different beast than a relationship. And they both never wanted a romantic relationship with each other. They both had gone on dates with other people during their time as friends with benefits. She had only stopped after learning she was pregnant and once she was further along, Pierre had too in solidarity. It hadn’t lasted too long as soon as Elodie was two months he went back on the scene, but it had been something.

Her lips twitch into a smile as she's reminded of how excited Pierre had been when he came back from his most recent date. Rambling equally to both her and Elodie about how pretty and smart his date was and how she even liked kids, babies at that.

She’s jerked out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone chiming. Grabbing it, she sighs seeing Pierres name but opens the message.

Could I say goodnight to Elodie. Just goodnight. I won’t stay longer She sighs again, quickly typing out of course and sending it.

“Pierre is coming to say goodnight to Elodie.” She tells Charles, sitting up. He frowns, scooping Elodie up and sitting on the bed beside her before setting Elodie down to the left of her. “Will you be okay?” “I’ll be fine.” And she reaches out to him, taking his hand in hers and intertwines their fingers, earning wide eyes from him. “Besides, I think I need to talk to him.” “You mean?” “I mean, let me talk to Pierre. Make sure he’ll be okay with this. He means too much to both of us to not check.” “I will hit him again if he’s not.” The promise makes her jaw drop, “You’ll what? What do you mean again?” “Ah.” He swallows nervously, and he’s suddenly able to feel the ring that caught Pierre’s lip earlier more than ever. “Nothing?” He offers, with a smile.

@cixrosie @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @benstormy @boiohboii @iloveyou3000morgan @topguncultleader

[monzabee]

sunday blues – ms47 (+18)

masterlist || part 1 || part 2 ||

Summary: The one where Mick helps you the best way he knows when you’re feeling insecure.

Pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, crying, cursing, fluff, insecurities and self-depreciating thoughts, smut, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), google translate german, praise words, minors dni!!

Request: “Hello! I am so obsessed with your recent fic with Mick and Seb's daughter, so I was wondering if you could write something where she is feeling very insecure and stressed and he just kind of helps her through her feelings, maybe something smutty to show her how much he lovers her body or something?👀”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this request has been sitting in my inbox for longer than i’d like to admit, but i’m so happy i got it done! it’s been a while since i wrote smut so if it doesn’t make sense i sincerely apologise, but as always thank you to the anon for the request and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Mick didn’t expect to find you the way he did when he was leaving your flat to take Angie on her morning walk, he really didn’t – because when he was leaving this morning, after having kissed you goodbye while you were still asleep, everything seemed fine. And although he is not the one to stress in these type of situations, his mind automatically goes to the worst possible scenario when he comes home to you crying on your couch in your bathrobe. So he does the expected, he asks whether you hurt yourself – the answer is no. Did something happen to anyone from your family? Nu-uh. Is it social media related? Nope. Did someone physically did something to you? No Mick, you locked the door before you left the house.

Every possible question that comes to his mind being met with a negative answer from you has him perplexed to say the very least, so he takes a seat next to you and offers what he’s sure will put you in a better mood; cuddles. With you in his arms and Angie on your lap, you do feel better, but he makes sure to ask any other possible option that comes to his mind.

“Did you try to bake cookies again?” His voice wanders off, his fingers running through the ends of your braid.

You lightly punch his arm, and then return your attention back to petting Angie as you pout and mumble out, “My cookies were not burnt, they were lightly toasted.”

He lets out a sigh, and after pressing numerous kisses to your hair to coax you, he gently raises your chin up for you to meet his eyes. “I give up, please just tell me what’s bothering you, hase.”

There’s a fresh wave of tears accumulating in your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks, and it absolutely makes his heart clench. You lightly push yourself out of his arms, careful not to disturb the dog sprawled on both of you guys’ lap, “Nothing, you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No I won’t,” he promises, fighting you in order to gather you back into his arms, but you’re not above fighting dirty – meaning using your nails to keep him away. “Are–” He takes a moment to pause and clear his throat, “Are you on your period?”

Mick watches as your lips part and a sound of indignation break free from the back of your throat. Without bothering Angie too much, you turn in your place to swat at his chest as you hiss, “You are an ass, Mick.”

“Bu– I didn’t mean –” He scrambles to get out, but you’re already walking towards your bathroom, and all he can do is watch you walk away from him. This time, his eyes meet Angie’s, and he can swear his dog is giving him the biggest side-eye known to mankind, but he can only breath out a, “I messed that one up big time, didn’t I?”

Angie gets up from his lap to walk towards the bedroom. Mick soon follows closely behind towards the bathroom.

You can hear his knocks and a faint Can I come in?, through the closed bathroom door, but as you try to tame the mess that is your hair, you call out to him, “No!” And because Mick is a gentleman, and arguably the best boyfriend in the universe, he actually waits outside the bathroom. Eventually, though, you feel bad making him wait outside by the door and with a final glance in the mirror, you stomp a few steps and push the bathroom door open, revealing Mick's concerned face.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but before he can continue with the rest of his sentence, you cut him off with yet another swat of your hand to his chest and another fresh wave of tears.

“I am not, and I repeat – not, on my period.” With a final hit to his chest, you walk back to your previous spot in front of the sink and try to brush the knots in your hair.

Wincing at the way you’re aggressively dragging the brush through your hair, Mick walks towards you to stand behind you at the sink and gently takes the brush out of your hand. “Here, let me do it.” And though you don’t want to admit, he’s gentle yet successful as he brushes your hair out for you. With his eyes occasionally drifting to watch you over the bathroom mirror, he dutifully manages to finish brushing your hair, and soon after you are back in his arms as he wraps them around your middle. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

You shake your head with another sniffle, “It’s not important.”

“Hase, please,” he practically begs as his attention is drawn to your puffy eyes, “it is important if you’re still crying over it.”

With a guilty look on your face and an apprehensive voice that absolutely breaks his heart, you mumble, “You really want to know?” This time it is you who is meeting his eyes through the mirror to see him nod sheepishly, and as you occupy yourself with his fingers you find yourself mumbling again, “My, uh, my boobs are too small.”

“Your what, is what?” Mick stammers in surprise, blinking at the unexpected confession. His expression shifts from confusion to realization, and his fingers tangle themselves with yours. “Hase, are you serious?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission. “Yes, and don’t call me that.”

“What?” With more confusion he stammers out, “I– I thought you liked it, it’s cute.”

He watches you let out a soft whimper, and then throw your head back against his chest in frustration. After sniffling and, yet, another fresh wave of tears, which Mick quickly wipes away as he keeps his gaze locked to yours, “I’m not supposed to be cute.”

“Oh?” he asks, “And what are you supposed to be, then?”

“I don’t know!” The sudden sob breaking out from the back of your throat has his eyes widening in surprise, and also concern – but for the first time that morning, you seem to be talking about what’s been wrong, so he has no intention to interrupt you. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be anymore! I can’t be too perfect or too flawed, too confident or too uncertain; people have opinions and they are not afraid to voice them, so I end up feeling not enough for the majority of time.” Mick’s hold tightens around as you let out a particularly violent sob, “And my boyfriend has bigger boobs than me!”

Mick's eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief as your last sentence tumbles out, and for a moment, there's a pause in the air as he processes your words. “So you’re sad, because you think your boobs are not big enough?”

“Well yeah,” you mumble, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious under his gaze. “I told you you’d think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Mick announces, “everybody gets insecure sometimes; what I don’t understand is why on earth you would compare yourself like that.” Mick's fingers gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, and he turns you towards himself to lift your chin up, “You’re perfect the way you are, hase.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words slowly starting to sink in. “I just don’t want to feel like this all the time.”

“I know, darling,” he coos and then offers you a gentle smile, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your cheek. “You’re perfect, you hear me? My perfect girl, hm?” He ignores a whiny objection in the form of you dragging out his name. “The kindest,” he leans in towards you, “and the smartest,” then presses his lips against your forehead, “the most beautiful girl inside and out.”

“Micki,” his names comes off from your lips in a whispery sigh, your head turning sideways as his nose nudges your jaw. His warm breath tickles your skin as he continues to nuzzle against your jaw, his lips brushing over your skin in gentle, feather-light kisses. His lips stretch when you let out a soft giggle, “It tickles.”

Mick's lips curve into a playful smile against your jaw, and he continues to pepper your skin with those feather-light kisses, this time intentionally causing a cascade of giggles from you. His touch is tender, his affection evident in each sweet gesture.

“It does, doesn't it?” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he moves his kisses to your cheek.

You squirm slightly in his embrace, the ticklish sensation mixed with delight. “Baby, stop,” you manage to say between giggles, even as your fingers find their way to his sides, retaliating with a gentle poke.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” With a final loving peck to your cheek, Mick relents and holds you closer to himself as your giggles slowly subside. As your giggles subside, Mick tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with tenderness, lock onto yours, and he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Feeling better?” he asks softly.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you give him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll be fine, Micki, I promise.” Ignoring the look he gives you, which tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say, you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being here, you know?”

“Of course, hase,” he mumbles in thought, the material of your robe feeling soft under his touch as he lets the cogs turn in his head. With his eyebrows furrowing, he grabs you by the waist and raises you up to sit you on the bathroom counter. “On the second hand, I think I need to show you just how much I appreciate you, hm?” Ignoring yet another objecting sound from your lips, he places a kiss on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck, and moves his kisses down until he’s met with your robe again. With a playful glint in his eyes, he lets his fingers work the knot of your robe’s belt.

His eyes widen as his brain registers the fact that you are not wearing anything underneath the robe, and you reply to his flabbergasted look with an innocent shrug of your shoulders as you give him the excuse, “I was about to take a shower before I… well, had a moment.”

You watch as a string of expletives leave his lips, and he needs to take a moment to recover as he mumbles, “Guter Gott.” Though, as your breathy giggles bring him back to the present, he pushes your robe off your shoulders in a quick move, and you realise there is a much darker look in his eyes when your eyes meet again, “And you think my girls are not enough.”

Before you can answer, his hands are quick to grab your breasts as he gives them a firm squeeze, causing you to forget whatever clever comeback you had and instead let out a shallow exhale. “They’re small,” you complain, but he is quick to shut you down by pinching your left nipple between his two fingers – not enough to make it actually hurt, but enough to shock you into shutting up and letting out a small yelp instead.

“Stop talking,” the sharper undertone of his voice has you biting the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation, but his eyes soften as he looks at the bewildered look on your face. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he fixes you with his stare as his hands go back to gently handling your breasts, “I’m going to fuck you in front of this mirror so that you can see just how beautiful you are, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s a moan or telling me to stop.”

With a slacked jaw you stare at your boyfriend, your sweet Mick who is soft and treats you as if you’re a china doll most of the time. But now, he looks at you with a stern look in his eyes, and the fact that they are a few shades darker than their normally baby-blue colour tells you that he means business. “Can you kiss me first?” Your voice is breathy, because everything about Mick makes it harder to breath harder, and the corner of his mouth rise in a small smirk as his brain registers the desperation in your voice. “Please.”

“How can I not when my pretty girl is being so well-mannered?” He watches as you straighten up in your place, which causes you to come closer to his face and he lets out a low chuckle. “Patience, baby,” he moves his hands to cup your face and his thumbs gently caress the tops your cheeks. He teases you by dipping his head until his lips are touching yours, and he lets out another chuckle when you chase his lips when he slightly pulls away. But deciding to alleviate you from your pain, he finally presses his lips against yours – though his kiss is nothing like his soft touch from mere moments ago.

His tongue explores your mouth as if he hasn’t kissed you a million times before, but his kiss is as bruising as they come. He draws all kinds of noises from you, with a single kiss, and it would be concerning how much you lose yourself in him if it wasn’t too good. You manage to nip at his lower lip just as he is starting to pull away.

“Gut sein,” he mumbles, the small (but accomplished) smile on your lips bringing a smile to his own. “Now, what do you say to me for the kiss, hm?”

Be good, he says – you can totally do that. His lips move down to your jaw to then your neck, and your lips form a perfect ‘O’ when he starts nipping and sucking on your skin. “Thank you for the kiss, Micki,” you mumble breathily, your hands grabbing his forearms to move his hands from your face back onto your breasts. He lets an appreciative hum as his hands go back to fondling the skin under his hands, which elicits a louder moan from your lips, “Oh, that feels good.”

Mick’s reply comes in the form of another hum as he keeps on sucking hickeys, which will undoubtedly make you complain to him tomorrow, but the way he handles you is enough to convince you not to care. After he’s satisfied with handiwork; he pulls back from your neck to only dip his head more to take one of your nipples to his mouth while his hand is busy groping the other breast, causing you to weave your fingers through his hair to press him closer to your chest. His ministrations, combined with his intention of marking up your chest as he did your neck has you ending up as a whimpering mess on the bathroom counter, calling out Mick’s name to do something more in hopes of him keeping his promise. His voice is husky as he asks, “Now do you believe me?”

Your hands are on him the second he pulls away and his breathing is a mess while you scramble to get off his shirt; your hands gliding across his chest down to the start of his running shorts he has from his morning run, and he has to restrain himself from letting out a groan as you sit in front of him with wide eyes and lips that are pink from all the biting. You voice is also husky as you answer his question with one of your own, “Are you going to fuck me now, liebste?”

He smiles sweetly at your attempt of trying to take back the reigns, and he tries to appear in though as he slowly pulls you off the counter. “In a second, I have to check something first.” He quickly turns you around to face the mirror, where you watch his hand’s movements as it slides from your waist down to the front of your sleeping shorts. The gasp that leaves from between your lips causes his sweet smile to morph into something more mischievous, and you catch his smirk on the mirror in front of you as he lets his fingers feel the wetness between your legs. “You’re soaked, hase, I think you’re more than ready.”

“Yes, please,” your voice comes off in a whimper as you slip your hand behind you to palm the bulge that presses onto your back through the material of his shorts that hang lower on his hips. You let out another moan when his fingers make their way towards your clit, which is his way of reminding you of who’s in charge – and it’s most definitely not you given the fact that you almost topple over the counter when he presses his fingers with slightly more pressure. You hear him let out a low groan when you move your hand slightly, but his fingers continue their movements which causes you to let out small mews of pleasure.

After he pulls his fingers out of your short, and consequently makes a show of licking them clean that leaves you quite literally panting with need. Smirking at your reaction, he taps the outside of your upper thigh, “Spread your legs, baby, watch me on the mirror, hm?” He makes sure to place your hands on the countertop after he’s done taking of the remainder of your clothing and underwear. A part of you is sure he’s secretly enjoying the attention and how good you’re being as you silently watch him ges out of his own shorts and underwear. “You ready?”

“Mhm-hm,” you mumble as you nod quickly and gather your hair on one of your shoulders.

Mick presses his lips on your bare shoulder as he grabs your waist with one of his hands, grabs the base of his cock with his free hand and guides it between your legs – a gasp leaves your lips as the tip of his cock presses into you. He’s slow as he guides the rest of his cock into your pussy, and you drag out his name under your breath. “So good,” he murmurs as his hand joins his other one on your hip, and he tries to keep his hips still to give you an opportunity to get used to it, “always feel so good for me.”

Your hands grab the marble tighter as the stretch has you wanting to just press your hips backwards against his, “Move, Micki, please.”

He meets your eyes through the mirror and chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby,” he repeats his words from before – but he obliges you nonetheless, as he pushes in all the way in a move that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. He is slow as he starts moving his hips in a steady rhythm. But soon he picks up the rhythm, and every snap of his hips to yours has you becoming more and more of a whimpering mess. His eyes capture your blush that is painting your cheeks and he lets his eyes wander lower where it has started to move towards your chest, which he’s more than welcome to adore the view of your breasts moving with every move his hips makes.

The moans that rip from the back of your throat become louder, stronger and more demanding as Mick decides to thrust himself deeper into you – a sweet reminder that you’ll definitely be feeling him for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. You can’t seem to form sentences with words other than more, please and various forms of his name, but he grants you what you want when one of your hands leave the counter to pull him in for a kiss. It’s messy and rushed, but it leaves you lightheaded as you find yourself begging for more when he pulls away. “No, no, I want more,” a high-pitched whine begs, and you drag out the next word, “please.”

Mick lowers his head enough for his lips to be level with your ear. “Look into the mirror, hase,” his breath hits your skin, and he rewards you with a sweet smile, “you see what I see?”

“I don’t see you giving me another kiss,” you grumble, but quickly stop rebutting when his hips deliver a rather sharp push, “fuck, that feels good.”  

“Look how beautiful you look,” he pants, his laboured breath hitting your ear, “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You’re sure your skin will be bruised from the way his fingers grabs onto your hips – not that it would look out of place with other parts of your body he’s already marked you on. “And you say you’re not enough, God, hase.”

Your hand snakes its way from his neck towards his hair as your fingers thread through his locks. “I need more, Micki, please.”

But unfortunately for you, Mick has every intention of  ignoring your pleas. “Do you know why I call you hase?” Between the haze of him fucking you into the counter and his breathy words, you manage to give him a weak shake of your head. “It’s because I love seeing your tits when you’re bouncing on my cock.” To accentuate his point, he holds your hips in place as he delivers sharper thrusts.

“I thought it was because of the way I scrunch my nose,” you gasp while pulling at his hair. Though it is not exactly the part he chooses to focus on – instead, he watches as your already blushed cheeks become a deeper shade. Another gasp, this time laced with a louder moan, is ripped from you when he continues the sharper movement of his hips, “I– Mick, right there!”

“Shh, I got you,” he soothes your moans as he stills the movement of his hips for a minute to hike your left leg to rest it on the counter and then grabs the hand you have raised up to do the same, “hang on for me, okay?” He watches as you give him a tentative look through the mirror as he wraps his arm across your middle to reach for your clit as he harshly pushes himself back into you.

Combined with his thumb applying pressure onto your clit and the way he’s filling you up once again causes you to moan his name louder than before. “I’m not going to last,” the whiny words leave your lips before you can stop them, and he gives you a smirk as his fingers quicken their pace, “fuck, Micki, just like that.”

Lost in the pleasure building up in your lower stomach, you don’t realise his free hand moving up to cup your breast until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers to draw out another moan from your lips, which sounds more like a scream because of all the please you’re feeling. “Do you see how beautiful you are? Look at yourself, baby.”

“Please Mick,” you let out a moan meddled with a sob as you watch your reflection in the mirror – the way your body is shaking with every movement of his hips and the way his front is pressed into your back, the disheveled look of your sweaty hair, and the way your wide eyes accompany your blushed cheeks, “make me come, please, I’m so close.” Your words must’ve acted as a source of motivation, since he quickens the pace of his hips and presses his thumb more as he continues the steady movements, which has you chanting out nothing but praises and a string of yes, yes, yes, yes.

Regardless of the condom he’s wearing, Mick can tell when you’re close as you clench around him, and he urges you to let go by mumbling into your skin, “It’s okay, hase, let it go.” And who are you to not give your boyfriend what he asks of you? So he’s there to guide you through your release while you sink your nails into his biceps to still yourself. He’s not far as he reaches his own peak and spills into you, which pulls yet another moan from you as you also hear his loud groan – a sound you’ll never get sick of hearing. You gasp lightly when he eventually pulls out of you; though when he sees the tired smile you give through the mirror (and yes, maybe he does call you hase because you do scrunch your nose while smiling), he responds with one of his own as he presses small kisses to your hairline, “There’s my smile.”

“I love you,” your raspy voice whispers, and suddenly you’re lost once again in the way he’s looking at you – a habit you’ll gladly keep.

“I love you too,” he responds, his nose nuzzling your jaw before giving you a sweet kiss, and it makes him chuckle lightly when you’re chasing his lips once again when he pulls away. “Come on, now we both need a shower.” The sounds of your giggles when he picks you up to get both of you into the shower, and as you hid your face in the crook of his neck you hear him mumble, “Mein hübsches mädchen.” My pretty girl.

[mariacallous]

“There are only so many books on Ukraine we can review each month,” an editor from a major British newspaper tells me at one of the country’s largest literary festivals. He looks a bit uncomfortable, almost apologetic. He wants me to understand that if it were up to him, he’d review a book on Ukraine every day, but that’s just not how the industry works.

Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, I’ve had a glimpse into how several industries work: Publishing, journalism, and the broader world of culture, including galleries and museums. Even before the big war, I knew more than I wanted to about how academia works (or rather doesn’t) when it comes to Ukraine. A common thread among all these fields is the limited attention they allocate to countries that do not occupy a place among the traditional big players of imperial politics.

Cultural imperialism lives on, even if its carriers often proclaim anti-colonial slogans. It thrives in gate-keeping, with editors and academics mistrusting voices that don’t sound like those higher up the ladder, while platforming those who have habitually been accepted as authoritative. “We’ve done Ukraine already” is a frequent response whenever you pitch an idea, text, or public event centering the country.

The editor who can’t keep publishing reviews of Ukraine-related books walks away, and I pick up a copy of one of the UK’s most prominent literary magazines to see their book recommendations. Out of a handful of reviews, three are on recent books about Russia. It seems like the space afforded to Russia remains unlimited. I close the publication to keep my blood pressure down.

Keeping my blood pressure down, however, is challenging. When my social media feeds aren’t advertising another production of Uncle Vanya, they’re urging me to splash out on opera tickets for Eugene Onegin. What happened to the dreaded “cancelling” of Russian culture? The Russia section in most bookshops I visit in the UK is growing daily with everything from yet another translation of Dostoevsky to accounts of opposition figures killed or imprisoned by the Kremlin.

The international media focus on the August 2024 release of Russian political prisoners was yet another example of how the more things change, the more they stay the same. While these released prisoners were provided with a global media platform to call for an end to “unfair” sanctions on “ordinary Russians,” there was no mention of the thousands of Ukrainian civilians who continue to languish in Russian jails.

The ongoing international emphasis on all things Russian goes hand in hand with a reluctance to transform growing interest in Ukraine into meaningful structural changes in how the country is perceived, reported on, and understood. Although there has been some improvement in knowledge about Ukraine since 2022, the move is essentially from having no understanding to having a superficial grasp.

Each time I read a piece on Ukraine by someone not well-versed in the country’s history and politics, my heart sinks. The chances are it will recycle historical cliches, repeat Kremlin propaganda about Russophone Ukrainians, or generalize about regional differences. And to add insult to injury, such articles also often misspell at least one family or place name, using outdated Russian transliterations. A quick Google search or a message to an actual Ukrainian could prevent these errors and save the author from looking foolish. Yet aiding this kind of colonial complacency seems to bother neither the authors nor the editors involved.

I often wonder what would happen if I wrote a piece on British or US politics and misspelt the names of historical figures, towns, and cities. How likely would I be to get it published? And yet the same standards do not apply when it comes to writing about countries that have not been granted priority status in our mental hierarchies of the world. We can misspell them all we like; no one will notice anyway. Apart from the people from those countries, of course. And when an exasperated Ukrainian writes to complain, I can almost see the editors rolling their eyes and thinking, “What does this perpetually frustrated nation want now? We’ve done Ukraine. Why are they never satisfied?”

It is not enough to simply “do Ukraine” by reviewing one book on the war, especially if it’s by a Western journalist rather than a Ukraine-based author. It’s not enough to host one exhibition, particularly if it is by an artist or photographer who only spent a few weeks in the country. Quickly putting together a panel on Russia’s war in response to a major development at the front and adding a sole Ukrainian voice at the last minute doesn’t cut it either. This box-ticking approach is unhelpful and insulting.

It is important to acknowledge that some Western media outlets have significantly enhanced their coverage of Ukraine over the past two and a half years. They have typically done so by dedicating time and resources to having in-house experts who have either reported from Ukraine for many years, or who are committed to deepening their knowledge enough to produce high-quality analysis. However, many of these outlets still seem compelled to provide platforms for individuals entirely unqualified to analyse the region. Surely this isn’t what balance means?

Since February 2022, more than 100 Ukrainian cultural figures have been killed in the war. According to the Ukrainian Ministry of Culture, by May 2024, over 2,000 cultural institutions had been damaged or destroyed. This includes 711 libraries, 116 museums and galleries, and 37 theatres, cinemas, and concert halls. In May 2024, Russia bombed Factor Druk, the country’s biggest printing house.

When I attended this year’s Kyiv Book Arsenal, Ukraine’s largest literary festival, each panel began with a minute of silence to honor the memory of colleagues killed in the war. All this is in addition to mounting military losses, many of whom are yesterday’s civilians, including journalists and creatives who have either volunteered or been drafted into the army. This is the current state of the Ukrainian creative industry.

To save time for Western editors, publishers, and curators, let me clarify what all of us perpetually frustrated Ukrainians want. We would appreciate it if they turned to actual Ukraine specialists when working on Ukraine-related themes. Not those who suddenly pivoted from specializing in Russia, or who feel entitled to speak authoritatively because they discovered a distant Ukrainian ancestor, or those who have only recently shown interest in Ukraine due to business opportunities in the country’s reconstruction. We would be grateful if they took the time to seek out experts who have been studying Ukraine long before it became fashionable, who understand the country in all its complexity, and who care enough to offer Ukrainians the basic dignity of having their names spelt correctly.

I like to fantasise about a time when editors of top Western periodicals will choose to review books on Ukraine not simply because the country is at war and they feel obliged to cover it now and again, but because these books offer vital insights into democracy, the fight for freedom, or the importance of maintaining unity and a sense of humor in times of crisis. I hope for a day when galleries will host exhibitions of Ukrainian art, not just because it was rescued from a war zone, but because the artists involved provide fresh perspectives on the world.

I also dream that we, the perpetually frustrated Ukraine specialists, will eventually be able to focus on our own scholarship and creativity rather than correcting the mistakes and misleading takes of others. This will happen when cultural institutions, publishing houses, universities, and newspapers acquire in-house experts whose knowledge of Ukraine and the wider region extends beyond Russia.

Dr Olesya Khromeychuk is a historian and writer. She is the author of The Death of a Soldier Told by His Sister (2022). Khromeychuk has written for The New York Times, The New York Review of Books, The Guardian, Der Spiegel, Prospect, and The New Statesman, and has delivered a TED talk on What the World Can Learn From Ukraine’s Fight for Democracy. She has taught the history of East-Central Europe at several British universities and is currently the Director of the Ukrainian Institute London.

[jawabear]

Hi could you make a oneshot based of this?

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYR4myRA/

It could be literally porn without plot König x reader of course

Like an Animal

König x reader

Not my GIF

A/N: okay. this is my first time writing for König. i hope i got his character right? i'm not entirely familiar with his character. But i hope you enjoy it! this is basically just smut all the way. beginning to end. filth.

Genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, almost getting caught, fingers as a gag, gloves, come eating, oral (fem.receiving), Google translate used, name calling, clothes sex.

Summary: Having the mountain of a man, also know as König, towering over you was a situation that never got old...

tagging: @softpedropascal (the könig master, thanks for the help love!)

Having the mountain of a man, also know as König, towering over you was a situation that never got old. Never lost its sense of heat. It still turned you on no matter how many times he did it. 

He hadn’t bothered to turn in the lights to his room so when you arrived at the scheduled time, you walked into a black space. You weren’t entirely sure he was in there until you felt two strong hands wrap around your waist and shove you up against the nearest wall. The only light was the fire in his dark eyes, his sniper hood had been lifted up but still ghosted over his forehead. 

He pressed his forearm above your head and leaned his weight into it. He seemed so casual whilst making you skin burn and your pussy soaking wet. 

“König..” you tried but he ground his hips into you, you could feel his bulge press against your pelvis and it shut you up immediately. 

“Never said you could talk, kleine maus” he purred. He slithered against your like a snake as his lips found that sweet spot on you neck. You couldn’t say your were surprised he could find it in the dark. He knew your body better than anyone. Your neck was his area of expertise. 

König sucked and bit at your skin as you squirmed against him. The movement nothing but a brush against his hulking figure. 

“Loved watching you out in the field, kleine maus. So sexy. Would’ve fucked you in the middle of it all. Your little ass looks so good in these pants” with his free hand, he grabbed your ass. A firm, large handful of flesh. So easily fitting in the palm of his huge hand. 

“You could’ve” you whispered to him. He growled and slapped your ass making your squeak. 

“böse Maus” (naughty mouse) he drew in a deep breath of you “you’re making me crazy. Keep talking like that and I won’t hold back” 

“M-Maybe I don’t want you too…” he moved his hand round from your ass and cupped your pussy. “König!”

He slammed his lips to yours “not so loud” he muttered, his tongue sliding in and out of your mouth with such a mind numbing rhythm. “There’s still people here” 

You nodded and allowed him to use your mouth how he wanted. His tongue explored the familiar territory, almost checking no one else had taken what was his. They hadn’t, no one would ever. 

König slid his hand to your zipper and unzipped it. You pressed your legs together instinctively but he grunted and shoved your legs apart with his knee. “Stay there” he ordered you. You whimpered and shivered at the darkness of his voice. His fingertips skimmed over your panties and he chuckled “lace?”

“Your favourite” he chuckled again and shoved his tongue as deep as he could into your throat. He hummed a yes and dipped his hand into your panties and brushed against your folds. “König” you whined. Your fists clenching on the wall he still held you against. 

König didn’t answer. Not with words at least. But his fingers spoke volumes as he dipped them between your folds, lapping up the juices there. He hummed in approval at your wetness. You moaned his name and he sunk his fingers inside your tight hole, your near scream being swallowed by him. He wouldn’t pull his mouth away from you now. Not until he was ready to fuck you or eat your pussy. 

He was obsessed with your mouth. In every way. He loved to make out with you. And he loved when you sucked on his tongue or let him lick anywhere he could reach with it. 

“so nass” he purred. Your eyes rolled back at his voice. God he was so sexy. “also perfekt für mich” (so perfect for me). 

“König please…want to come” you moaned. Your fingers dug into his arm as he fingered you. Only now realising that he still had his gloved on. He was finger fucking you with his gloves. “Oh fuck..” 

“Such a whore” he mumbled. He pushed his fingers deeper inside you, brushing over the spongy spot that had your knees quaking. “meine verdammte hure” (my fucking whore). 

Bang Bang Bang.

The three thunderous knocks on the door made you push your legs together. Well, against his knee. Your eyes shot up and met the fire in his. He hadn’t stopped. His fingers  still pumping and his tongue still licking. You could feel him smirking. 

“König” it was Soap. Leave it to him to ruin a moment, “you seen (C/S)? We need to brief her for the mission tomorrow” 

He could’ve said no, or yes depending on how he was feeling. But he didn’t. König was feeling cheeky. And risky. He pulled himself away and pulled out his fingers. “Stay quiet” he whispered in your ear before shoving his wet fingers into your mouth. 

He pulled down his hood and opened the door. The light from the hallway illuminating the flame in his eyes all the more. “No I haven’t” he answered soap, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of your mouth. His gloves feeling rough on your tongue. “Perhaps she’s with the Mexican. Or maybe she’s getting food” he shrugged. 

“Right” Soap nodded “why are you living in the dark?” 

“Matches the job” König said nothing more and shut the door. He didn’t even wait to hear if Soap left before returning to what he was doing. His fingers back in your pussy and his tongue back in your mouth. “Good girl” he purred. “Staying so quiet. What would’ve happened if he heard you, huh?” 

Your hole fluttered around his fingers at the thought of the Scot seeing you like that. With König’s fingers in your mouth, pants open and legs shaking. 

“schmutzige hure” (dirty whore). He slapped his palm against your clit and pumped harder and faster into you. He pulled his tongue from your mouth “you want that? You want to have someone watch as I wreck you?” 

It took every ounce of your being to not say yes. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was so deep dark fantasy. But the thought of someone being there watching as König absolutely railed you stupid got your head spinning. 

He muttered something in German before peeling you off the wall and tossing you to the bed. He tugged off your boots and yanked down your combat pants and underwear and threw them all to the side with a thud. He shoved your legs apart and flicked up his hood. He leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. It was dim and orange but relegated perfectly off his skin. 

“There she is” he smirked. You knew he wasn’t talking to you. But to your pussy. It was barely a moment after he had spoken until he shoved his face between your legs. Drinking, eating, licking at your pussy like he never had before. 

Your back immediately lifting off the bed and griping and grabbing at the sheets. “König!” You screamed as he sucked at your throbbing clit. You didn’t care if anyone was outside. If Soap was still outside. He didn’t care either. Not by the way he laughed against you. You started to wonder if maybe he wanted someone in there watching. 

“That’s it. That’s it” he said. “Getting you ready for my cock. Need to have you ready to take it”  

“I am!” You yell “I’m ready! Please König! Please fuck me!” 

He growled again. Something in German again. He got to his knees and your struggled to open your eyes to look up at him. The fire an inferno in his grey eyes. You watched as he carefully unzipped his own combat pants and fished out his long, hard cock. You swallowed thickly as you watched him pump it. Once. Twice. Then just once more before lining it up with your pulsing hole. 

He laid his hand on your pelvis, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he pushed himself into you. “Scheiße” he spat, his head thrown back. He buried himself to the hilt. “Still so tight. But feels so good” 

“Please König. I don’t want to wait anymore!” 

“Needy little thing, you are” he caged your head with his forearms as he leaned over you and began to thrust his cock into you. He always started with a steady pace. His length effortlessly stroking over every sweet spot in your pussy. The protruding vein rubbing deliciously over your walls. 

The room now being filled with pants and moans from you both, and squelching sounds from your soaked pussy. Your noises were nothing short of pornographic. Both of you. König was just as loud as you were. Moaning your name and German swears. His mouth hanging open and eyes in the back of his head. He was lost in the pleasure and that only made him go harder. 

König was desperate to reach his end. Desperate to come. Desperate for you to come. He wanted to feel your tight pussy strangle his cock. Squeeze out every last drop of come into you. He wanted you to be his cumdump. He wanted to watch his come ooze out of your still spasming pussy. He wanted to eat his own come out of your pussy. 

Oh god. Just the thoughts of that had you shaking. Had you coming. Coming on his cock. He groaned, growled, damn near barked into your ear when you clenched around him. Chanting ‘yes’ in your ear over and over and over. Drilling himself into you. Your body twitching from the overstimulation now taking over you. 

But he kept on going. Kept on pounding into you. Ignoring how you screamed. Ignoring the way you thrashed underneath him. The pleasure becoming too much. But still so good. 

“Fuck! Yes! Yes! Coming! Coming!” He almost howled into the room. 

You could feel it. 

The long, thick stings of burning hot come shooting into you. The sensation had you coming a second time. König trembled. A new tightness around him. Tighter than he had felt before. He cried out your name and continued to drive himself into you. 

He slammed his lips to yours. His tongue finding it’s way back down your throat. He swallowed all of your noises. Swallowed them and matched them. 

Eventually, he began to slow his hips. Carefully pulling out of you with a heavy breath. “Scheiße. Das ist es” (fuck. That’s it) he praised. His hand stroking down your hair. “gutes Mädchen” (good girl). 

You sucked your lips behind your teeth and slipped a hand between you. You could feel his come leaking out of you. You gather some on your fingers and brought them back up to your faces. 

He looked at your fingers. His eyes blown black. He licked his lips and ducked your fingers into his mouth. He moaned and his eyes fluttered shut. “das ist es”(that’s it) you whispered in your best German you could muster in your fucked out state. 

König shivered. It always fucked with his head when your spoke in his mother tongue. Especially during and after sex. 

Once he had sucked your fingers clean of his come, you pulled them from his mouth. “Good boy” he collapsed onto you and let out another heavy breath. 

You pulled off his helmet and hood and began stroking though his hair. “ich liebe dich” he sighed. 

“I love you too” 

You both fell into a peaceful silence. That silence including pants, whispers and giggles. 

“Do you think he’s still out there?” He asked quietly as he shifted a little. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you” you laughed. 

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again “maybe…” 

27/1/23

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( logan howlett x reader ) part 3

summary : y/n finding her past haunting her more and more , people are starting to notice the way logan is with the new resident. when she gets upset she find she may have another gift to which leads to needing answers to what the lab done to her facing her fear of being tested on while her brother decides to make food from their childhood .

warnings : nightmare , flash backs, slow burnish , angst and fluff , google translated russian ( feel free to correct me ) , grammatical errors ( sorry )

( previous part)

Two months she was free  of the lab and yet she was still so out of place, she could talk to the kids and her brother mainly in russian as speaking english sometimes was bit exhausting . she did do the hangout thing with rogue both sitting in rogues room reading  but mostly in silence, short conversations but no more than a few sentences . she also would do same with people in the mansion unsure of how to socialize much, she also tied scott up couple more times although each time the vine got looser to point he was able to get himself out. She did love how more open the kids where lia and ana seemed love the attention of the other little girls and luka and henry loved the rough play with the other boys .  she couldn’t ask more than that , the kids actually getting to be kids . it was easier to talk to the younger residents , the older one though she could tell they were patient and it wasn’t them it was just hard concept of having people around . the greenhouse was her favorite place by far being able to have that quiet time and still watch the world around her it was best of both situations . she was even able to bring produce to the kitchen she learned to let it grow slower when they found themselves overstocked at one point but still it felt nice being able to contribute. 

The night though they never change each night she still would wake in a tear filled , panting and sweaty state . the screams were still as loud , the images still vibrant and vivid. Tonight she didn’t even bother trying to go back asleep . tiredly she dragged herself to the kitchen what she wasn’t expecting was her tea already on the counter made along with a blanket placed beside it and the back door open . wrapping the fuzzy soft material around her shoulder she took the mug in her hand and headed out only to smell that familiar scent. 

“ though you might enjoy looking at the stars without the glass in the way” logan turned to see her furrowed brow soften even a hint of a smile on her lips . 

“ don’t you ever sleep” she asked coming to his side as her eyes looked up at the sparkling stars . 

“ could ask you the same thing but i’m guessing your in the same boat” he turned back to look up at the sky. 

“ is sleep supposed to haunt you” she asked . 

“ i guess for us it does but it shouldn’t” he nodded . 

“ is the sky always like this ?” she asked again almost like a whisper. 

“ like what?” 

“ dark yet beautiful , i never seen anything like this in such alone time i used to think of it but it never was like this” . 

“ did you never get to see the outside world while you where there?” he asked chancing his arm on getting her to open up . 

“ not the sky no only a small window that would show if it was night or day” she mused. 

“ you made it not as bad for those kids , i mean without you they would of been well worse” he said looking at her seeing her eyes go glassy . 

“ i didn’t want them to feel like i did , i grew up in with those people , i know what that was like and i tried to make sure they didn’t” she sniffled looking up . “ i failed though” she added. 

“ you need to stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over”. 

“ it was my fault i tried to escape , i tried to leave and if i wasn’t knocked out i could of saved the others” she finally said running off back into the house . 

Morning finally came but she didn’t sleep not one bit , the past played in her head on loop almost like it was her own form of torture and she couldn’t get it out of her head nothing not even the stories she read could stop it . she walked down to the kitchen eyes filled with exhaustion , filled with sorrow and sadness as she got a cup of coffee hoping that it would help. It wasn’t missed on the other her mood as anything plant like around her either crumpled to dust or began to rot. Leaving the with her cup she headed to the living room the plant in the hall wilting and withering in her trail as she passed by the professor and storm . 

“ hey you ok” storm asked. 

“ tired is all “ she nodded leaving to the living room . 

“ you go see that the kids have eaten” professor gave sad smile as he turned to the living room watching her head hang low almost hiding her face from anyone who might pass by. 

“ you know dear i don’t need to look in your mind to know something is wrong” he called making her look up . 

“ you look in my mind and you will change how you feel about me” she sniffled . 

“ i have seen, your thoughts are loud and it does not change a thing , you are not the monster you think you are” he came closer as she moved back into the sofa. 

“ i think you are wrong on this one , i could of just stayed if i didn’t move they would of been here too” she looked down at the book . 

“ how do you know that?” .

“ because i would of been able to protect them , stopped the bastards getting near” . 

“ you tried to save them all , you risked your own life time and time again that is not action of a monster” he told her. 

“ and yet they are dead and i am not” 

“  four of them are here , thriving because of you” 

“ and the scream of five haunt my every waking moment “ she looked him in the eyes showing him what it was that haunted her , showing him it all .

“ this changes nothing it just shows you been through more than you should of ever been and that blame you hold on yourself is misplaced” he shook his head. 

“ i don’t think this is something that we will ever agree on” she laughed dryly . 

“ you poor thing” jean gasped as she looked up seeing them all standing there .

“ please spare me your pity all off you i am a monster” her voice raise as the lights flickered around her even taking her by surprise. “ great something new” she huffed. 

“ how many powers do you have” scott asked absent mindedly .

“ that is one question i do not know the answer to, i’ve been with them almost two decades and they pumped every concoction into my veins , the mind stuff and elemental was what the rest is them” she sighed. 

“ we can run some test and see , it wont be like the lab it will be pain free and you can stop anytime or even say no” jean said to her. 

“ anytime?” she asked considering it needing to know herself. 

“ anytime” the redhead confirmed. 

“ when?” she asked 

“ now or anytime you want you are in control with this here and it always your choice” . 

“ is this in his book” she finally asked a small smile on her face. 

“ is it working?” jean smirked as y/n nodded. “ well then no it not” . 

“ you should take notes gold retriever… lets do this i need to know” she stood wiping the tears from her face. 

“She really haunted by her past huh ?” scott asked as they walked into the kitchen. 

“ very much so it’s not pretty and she blames herself for it” professor solemnly spoke. 

“ what happened ?” piotr  spoke up yet he didn’t know if he was truly ready to hear the extent of the horror his little sister face. 

“ it’s not my story to tell , maybe when she is ready she might share it but now we just have to let her deal with her feelings let her know she is not a monster she believes herself to be” . 

“ i have a idea it not much and its not going to heal her but i can make something she love as a child , our grandmothers stew no matter what  we need to get new vegetables and other things though” piotr looked around the room . 

“ logan and scott could you get what he needs?” storm asked . 

“ of course he will .. and me too” scott smirked . 

“ whats that suppose to mean”. 

“ meaning you follow her around like  the loyal what she call you again doberman” he chuckled. 

“ oh fuck off” logan rolled his eyes as the other tried hiding their knowing smirks.  “ let just get this shit” he huffed walking out the door. 

“ i don’t know how i feel about this” Piotr brows furrowed. 

“ you’ll get used to it” storm patted his shoulder. 

She sat on the metal bed looking around the lab nervously it was nothing like the ones she used to be in but still it made nervous regardless . 

“ we don’t have to do this now we can wait til you're feeling better” jean told her softly feeling the girl nervous state radiate off of her.  

“ it just the first lab i’ve been in i’ll be ok” she shook her head. 

“ if you want to stop anytime let me know ok remember this is all your choice” the redhead reminded her. 

“ lets just get started” . 

“ ok i’m going to take a blood sample if that’s ok..  Hey let me get your brother or the professor maybe logan?” she didn't miss the smile on the redheads mouth at the last one. 

“ my brother will do” she blushed. 

“ what is going on with you and logan?” .

“ nothing really he’s there at night guess he has nightmares too” she shrugged as jean smile grew wider. 

“ i don’t think thats it , logan stopped having those a while ago  not completely gone but he rarely has them “ .

“ then why does he come to the kitchen?” her head tilted . 

“ that’s one you’ll have to figure out yourself “ jean winked. “ i’ll go get your brother” . 

“ no just do it , can i hold your hand on your coat” she asked nervously yet her mind was no working over time at the new information . 

 “ of course i’ll be quick and it will only be a little pinch and done ready” she asked as y/n nodded . she winced feeling the little sting as she grabbed the womans coat only to feel the hand replace the fabric . “ there we are done that part now i’m going to scan you and put these on you it won’t hurt one bit and but remember we can stop anytime” . 

“ i’m ok i’m not scared anymore” y/n smiled . 

“ scotts right your smile is pretty” jean winked as she went to put the vile of her blood in the analysis machine . 

“ your boyfriend is not as annoying but don’t tell him i said that” y/n huffed out with a laugh. 

“ my lips are sealed , you ready for next part” . 

“ born ready” she nodded. 

It was nearly dinner time when they emerge from the lab when the scent hit her nose . one that brought her back into the past this time it was a happier time . suddenly she was the little girl who spent her days on  the rural farm lands of russia  the smell of her grandmothers stew would signal the womans arrival making her run as fast as her little legs would take her into the small farm house.  She would almost knock her grandmother over as she jumped into her arms . when she was there it meant her parent weren’t cruel  , they wouldn’t be so hard and harsh on her and her big brother in the presence of the elderly woman .  she also would get spoiled rotten with treats and toys , pretty dresses . it was her most cherished times one she would use to keep her going when she felt like giving up . if it wasn’t for her brother and grandmother well she didn’t know how she would of been in the world, now she could smell that memory in real time one . 

“ он пахнет ее. ( it smells like hers) “ she walked in seeing her brother standing at the stove stirring the pot. 

“я пытался довести это до совершенства.

 ( i tried to make it to perfection) “he chuckled as he pulled  the big pot off bringing it into the dinning room . she couldn’t help but almost float following after and she couldn’t help the tears that fell down her cheeks she was surprise she still had some left. 

“ я сделал хуже?

 ( did i make it worse?)” piotr asked worriedly . 

“ нет, это прекрасно, это слезы счастья.

 ( no it’s perfect , these are happy tears)” she wiped her face. “ happy tears” she said in english as they all looked at her. 

“ smells good” scott stood as he handed her the ladle and piotr handed her a bowl. 

She got herself a generous helping sitting as they all filled their own. The moment it hit her taste buds she moaned happily .

“ taste  like hers” she smiled once more. 

“ what is this , so good “ rogue asked as others hummed their agreement . 

“ Solyanka but our grandmothers version” piotr explained as y/n was too busy wolfing it down . 

“ taste like home” she said grabbing more  as Piotr sat a little taller with pride . 

“ do you remember any of her other dishes” storm asked. 

“ i have her recipe book” piotr said softly . 

“ wait you have it” y/n almost dived over table excitedly. 

“ yes in my room she sent it too me so i wouldn’t forget the good food” he chuckled. 

“ that means we can make her Borodinsky” she gasped animatedly probably the first some of them seen her so excited, so happy . 

“ yeah i can give it to you later” piotr smiled happily .

part 4

taglist : @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel

[zikkytheblicky]

hii! how are u?? Hope I'm not bothering<3

could u do (separate) headcanons with Alastor and Vox x a chubby Male Reader who is kinda insecure and very sweet and kind?

if u only do for one character for request, i prefer alastor

have a Nice day/night!

HIII IM GOOD YOURE NOT BOTHERING ME LMAO I JS SAW THIS 💓!!

(A LITTLE WARNING I DIDNT HAVE ANY TIME TO DO VOX N DIDNT WANT THIS TO COME OUT TOO LATE/DIDNT RLLY HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR HIM SO IM SO SO SORRY 😭!! )

anyway this idea is so AGGGGH its so adorable ☹️☹️☹️ also some characters might be a little ooc ! im not too sure that’s kinda ur pov!! :3

SORRY FOR THE bit of lore i js inserted for the angst

c/w:

you and charlie have a little brother older sister relationship. very loving <3.

for the french/creole i used google translate so im sorry if its wrong :(

ALSO YES ALASTOR IS HALF HATIAN LETS GOOO 🙏🏾 CARIBBEAN HUSBAND 🙏🏾🙏🏾

everything about the little niffty part i had to google cuz i genuinely thought niffty was 5..

husk is so black coded idc idc idc

sir pentious holds such a special place in my heart i love him. ☹️☹️💓

alastor’s is kinda crack like until you get to the NSFW and the angst part!!

mentions of cannibalism.

ALASTOR

MEETING A GENTLEMAN.

the first time alastor met you was the day after the meeting with the overlords. charlie mentioned you were one of her best friends and somethings about you and how you and her clicked like two puzzle pieces because of your similar personalities.

alastor, like the gentlemen he was, introduced himself first, complimenting your looks and calling you sweet names off the bat..

you obviously caught his interest. may it be because of your calm aura, your gentle eyes, or the sweet tone of your voice… or maybe the plushness of your body?

as the sinners finished trampling you with questions and introductions, alastor spawned right in front of you- you didn’t know he was watching or even there for that matter. “hello there my dear! it seems charlie has friends besides her girlfriend after all!-“ “hey!” you heard charlie interrupt, a pout on her lips. their antics caused you to giggle into your palm which immediately caught alastor’s and the rest of the sinners’ attentions. “you are quite the adorable thing aren’t you?” alastor whispered, his tone holding what seemed to be a seductive tone behind the static that filled the room. “huh ?!” you asked as your face became flustered, refraining the urge to hide your face into your palms and slowly sink into the floor of the hotel. alastor just smirked, standing up to his full height (wait.. he was leaning down this whole time? what the fuck is it with overlords and there overbearing heights ! you thought bitterly, craning your neck to look up at the (sadly) much taller demon.) later on when everyone went to there respectable bedrooms you went down stairs for a nice, tall glass of water. unknowing of the pairs of red eyes that stared hungrily at your abdomen.

that day you went into your specially made bedroom with a teeth mark on your tummy.

after a few months he got to know you better.. and better.. and ended up dating you. which wasn’t a shocker to charlie since she’s noticed the overbearing and possessive stares alastor has sent you and the bashful glances and flustered faces sent alastor’s way.

but the others..

“toots theres no way you’re dating that jackass.. though he’s good lookin’ though.. got taste.” angel dust had said with a disgusted yet amused look on his face, faking a gag as he stared at the claws massaging your scalp and the toothy grin on alastor’s face. “tsk. gays.” was all angel said before turning away from you both and going back to bothering husk.

“i know already. you guys don’t think i haven’t noticed the bite marks on m/n/n (male names’ nickname) thighs and stomach ?” husk had huffed out, rolling his eyes at the look that was sent his way from charlie and forcing himself not to laugh at the way blush that was already on your face sprouted from your face to your neck. “i had to keep it a buck. sorry.” (husk was definitely not sorry he likes seeing you flustered it’s funny to him.)

“oh! sssso i guess the eggssss were right!” sir pentious slurred out, a grin in his face. “you too make such an interesting couple! one a nice, kind and sweet sinner and the other a… a..” sir pentious stuttered as static started to fill his ears. “a..a very well put together gentlemen overlord!” sir pentious rushed out before going back upstairs to his pet eggs.

“wait men can impregnate other men ?” niffty had asked curiously. all you did was sigh, clasping your hands together as you shook your head while alastor let out a staticky cackle, clutching his chest as he leaned over in laughter. “thats- thats not what we said niffty .” you murmured, rubbing your temple gentle before playfully hitting alastor. “it’s not funny she’s like 5.. or something!” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. “she-“ alastor coughed- “she was in her 20s when she died, mon amour (my love). and that was in the 1950s.” alastor corrected you gently with a toothy grin and a pat to your head. “oh..” you mumbled leaning into the touch with a pleased sigh. “gay people!” niffty blurted out, raising a rainbow flag she clearly stole from charlie in the air in front of you both. “oh my god. so out of pocket.” you gasped out, a slight giggle coming out while alastor cackled even harder than before

ALASTOR ver 2

(IN)SECURITY.

when alastor found out about your insecurity he was very confused. very. who cares about how you look? you’re so beautiful to him and that’s all that mattered. who cared if someone wouldn’t date you because of your weight? most people like that are still lonely masturbating themselves on valentines day while listening to those break up songs.

though that’s what he wanted to say, he was actually very gentle with you and was so sweet and practically worshiping your body when he found out (not like he didn’t worship your body on the daily.) though he was a little silly.

“what’s all this nonsense you’re saying, Mon pécheur ? (my sinner)” alastor cooed with a frown, pulling you into his lap and gently squeezing your stomach. “you see this? this is what keeps me sane.” “and these?” alaator grabs your thighs pressing small kisses to them. “these keep me from killing everyone in hell.” alastor mumbled into your thighs, resting his head on them as you combed through his hair. sitting in comfortable silence despite the happy tears that flowed down your chubby cheeks beautifully.

the time you fat shamed yourself in front of charlie and he got so mad at you. (he comforted you by being scary as fuck and then complimenting snd practically worshipping your body.)

“‘m so.. fat i need to start starving myself again.” you murmured quietly. so quietly. so quietly the sinners you say near didn’t hear you. but who did? charlie. she was standing across the room talking to vaggie and she STILL heard you. the only reason alastor didn’t hear you along with charlie was because he was out taking “care” of the eggs (you made sure he listened to vaggie by threatening to revoke his permission to bite your thighs and stomach.) charlie turned your direction and furrowed her eyebrows. “hold on, vaggie. i’ll be right back..” charlie mumbled as she strutted her way towards you where you, angel, husk, and sir pentious were in a group chatting.. well except you. you only sat with them because you were lonely and didn’t want to disturb charlie and vaggie- that’d be rude. charlie pulled you away with her to the second floor of the hotel in a dark corner. “m/n/n..” charlie started, a knowing frown and glance in her eyes. no. not this again. “charlie- charlie please..“ “listen, m/n/n. i don’t wanna have to tell him but i kinda have to. alastor will never trust me again if i dont tell him this… but seriously, amour (platonically.) going back to starving yourself? you remember what happened last time?” charlie whispered, cupping your cheeks with her soft palms. “‘m sorry.” you mumbled into her palm. “it’s ok. now are you ready for me to tell al?” charlie asked as she slowly took out a bracelet that had “INCASE OF EMERGENCY” written on it. “yes..” you mumbled, slowly moving towards al’s room as you got ready for a feral alastor to appear. “now.” charlie clicked the button on the bracelet, flashing a smile at m/n before disappearing back downstairs on the main floor. almost immediately alastor appeared behind you, grabbing you by your waist rather roughly and taking you inside of his room. “al, please i didn’t-“ “silans (hatian creole; silence).” was what you could make out- he was glitching slightly and his voice was very staticky. and also- oh god he’s speaking creole. he usually only spoke creole when he was pissed or was cursing someone out. you felt a shiver down your spine as alastor’s shadow locked the door- hell even it looked mad. and it’s a shadow for hell’s sake. “Wi mesye (yes sir)” you mumbled back in his native language, pulling your legs closer to your chest and resting your head against your thighs, sniffling slightly. you felt like such a disappointment (your nails digged into your thighs), why couldn’t you just listen for once? so useless. useless, useless, useless.“are you crying, love? what are you thinking?” alastor pulled you hands away from your thighs, watching the skin heal in a split second. “‘m such a disappointment. why can’t i just listen to you and charlie? im so fat too- why can’t i be as skinny as-“ you were immediately shut up by the cruel, almost scary laugh alastor let out. when you rubbed your blurry eyes full of tears you could see al’s eyes glowing, his regular toothy grin was now a scary, painfully fake (even more fake than his usual one), and prey-like. “silly boy. so stupid yet sweet and bashful yet so careless. do you not know how much your body is worth? in the city i practically was born in (cannibal city) your body is worth over a million. and i get to have it all to myself- every curve, every freckle, every birthmark, every bump and every hair. just to myself. do you know how nice it feels to know that, little deer?” alastor hummed out, pulling his coat off and pulling you up onto him to sit on his chest, his hands roamed around your chest and thighs, treating each and every curve with so much love it hurt.

ALASTOR ver 3

NSFW HEADCANNONS (SHORT)

he uses your ass or thighs as a pillow sometimes and likes to bully you by telling people he’s friends with on how much he recommends your ass or thighs to his friends (as a joke of course).

“i truly recommend this pillow to you, dear !” alastor lifted his head up slightly, grabbing your ass in his sharp claws and squeezing it gently. “very soft and squishy too!” al gave his signature toothy grin as rosie chuckled into her palm. eating another piece of human legs that she had boiled up nicely and was seasoned to perfection; just the way she liked it.

purposefully does doggystyle just to see your ass jiggle (very much an ass man imo.)

loves your kind personality. one time you told him not to go to hard because charlie wanted you to help her do documents the next day and it required you to move a lot. alastor purposefully fucked you into the stars (his excuse was, “i don’t like getting told what to do.”). you didn’t realized though. you just thought he was really pent up and didn’t mean it.

alastor added special noise cancellation to his room once he started dating you. you never asked him why when you started dating but now..? you understand.

alastor loves watching your ass idk why.

alr that’s it bye bye!! :J this is a lil late (๑´·.̫ · `๑)

[firstkanaphans]

First of all wanted to let you know that I was in awe of your Eclipse translation. I love your fics in general. They are absolutely lovely (its a pun on your penname get it?)

Which brings me to my second point. I am currently translating a novella from one of my native languages to English at work. And I keep getting stuck. Do you have any tips on translation? What is your process like? Thank you!!!

Thank you so much!! I had a lot of fun translating that novel. If it wasn’t so time consuming, I would definitely do translations more often because it's a lot less stressful to transform someone else’s work than write your own. 

Translating The Eclipse was a 3-step process for me, although it’ll probably be easier for you since you’re fluent in both of the languages you’re working in. Although I'm actively learning Thai, I'm nowhere near fluent enough to translate a 500-page novel without assistance. (Why are BL novels so unnecessarily long??) So Step 1 for me was to run everything through Google Translate. When Google inevitably spat out something incomprehensible, Step 2 was to comb through the original Thai and translate everything word-for-word. I didn’t bother correcting grammar or trying to edit things to make them sound good, I simply got a very basic translation down on the page. From there, Step 3 was to edit that translation into something worth reading.

I’ve always had a problem with Thai novels specifically because the official translations read like car manuals. They’re boring and lifeless and god bless those of you who can actually read them, but I just cannot. I spend the whole book editing it in my head. I don’t think this is the fault of the novels, though! The Eclipse, for instance, is beautifully written. I just think these publishers are hiring translators who aren’t also writers. For a good translation, you need someone who can do both.

For example, it’s very common in Thai writing to use epitaphs instead of names when talking about characters (i.e. “the small one,” “the older one,” etc.). This is rarely done in English because it sounds clunky, but it serves a purpose in Thai where characters are often using their own name as a pronoun and the writer may not want to repeat their name yet again in the dialogue tag. If I had stopped at Step 2 above (like a lot of BL novel translators do) and kept the epitaphs intact, English speakers would have had a difficult time reading the novel. I had to make some changes so that the magic and meaning of the original stayed intact, but the writing was also appealing to an English-speaking audience.

I enjoy editing at baseline and there’s something so satisfying about taking a lifeless paragraph and making it sing. Just as an example, here’s the first paragraph of The Eclipse novel without any changes: 

The afternoon sun cast his shadow across the floor while Akk walked away from the building towards the Suppalo school gate. At this moment, that shadow didn’t seem as tall or long as him—the tallest male student in the Mathayom 4/1 class. The only thing that seemed to be the same was their shape, so thin it looked gangly.

And here’s what I translated it to:

The afternoon sun cast Akk’s shadow across the ground as he stepped out of the building towards Suppalo’s gate. At this time of day, his shadow was not nearly as tall as him—the tallest boy in his class. In fact, the only thing he and his shadow currently had in common was that they were both so thin they looked gangly.

It’s not a significant change, but it sounds much better. I think when some people make translations, they’re scared to change anything in deference to the original author, but I guarantee the original author would want you to change things if it makes their writing read the way it is supposed to. So I guess my biggest piece of advice to you would be to not be scared of putting a little of your own voice into the writing. Contrary to popular belief, translations do allow for some creative freedom as long as the original meaning remains intact.

I hope that helps! And good luck on your own translation. Like I said, it's time consuming, but worth it!

And since I’ve accumulated a surprising number of new followers since I originally translated the novel, here's a link for anyone interested in reading!

[the-great-empress]

idc how incompetent crowley is, MC DIES IN OBEY ME. where was lilith then? huh? smh 😭😭

Sorry for the spelling mistakes, English is not my native language and I use Google translator

Oh boy…a short question and a lot of what I would like to say.

I’m going to warn you from the beginning, I don’t like Lilith, maybe when I talk about Lilith I’m mostly influenced by that. I may get hate from some people, but that's my opinion.

First let’s talk about our favorite director

Crowley

Crowley could be... that... Crowley... a director of a prestigious academy, somewhat irresponsible and relaxed, perhaps also childish, come on, even I sometimes question how he could be a director and I like the theories that he is up to something, but he has done more things by Yuu than Lilith by Mc

Crowley since the prologue of the game has helped Yuu, that is, he could have easily thrown him out on the street, he even said that he would not do it and housing him in Ramshackle was the best option, I know what many will say "Crowley could have housed him in one of the dorms” or “You were able to accommodate him in his house” that is to say, come on!

• Leave a person without magic in a dormitory full of magic users? We are talking about NRC students, even Ace and Deuce were proof that they were going to mess with Yuu sooner or later, whatever the dormitory they would bother him as soon as he entered, that would be like leaving a cow in the tiger cage that They haven't eaten for a week.

• Secondly, let a stranger stay in your house? Oh really? We know that Yuu would not steal from Crowley or hurt him, but in those moments of the prologue Yuu for Crowley was just a STRANGER who arrived at NRC by mistake, nothing more, I ask you, would you allow a stranger to stay in your house? If you manage to do it well for yourself, but I wouldn't do it for safety reasons, the director may be very “kind” as he says, but not naive, plus he was going to live there for free, of course he had to do one or another errand, but Yuu accepted that (something that is repeated in several of the books and I will mention it later), and even allowed Grim to stay and attend classes.

From my point of view, complaining that Ramshackle has not been remodeled would be abusing the director’s generosity, that is, first the octatrium had to go to, let’s say, fix it a little, so that later the VDC group would donate their money and even then it could not be completely remodeled, Crowley is the director, not a billionaire to waste money (That’s Kalim), and the ghost thing is very questionable and negligent on his part

As for Crowley sending him on errands, come on, in the prologue Crowley made it a condition for him to do some work or another and Yuu accepted, in which case Yuu complained, he accepted it from the beginning so no matter what. Would have to make. Yes, they usually seem like blackmail, but in the end in some of them Crowley gives him a prize. In book 2 it allows him to participate together with Grim (remember that Grim is a beast and Yuu is a person without magic, the mere fact that both appear on open television as NRC students could harm the reputation of the academy) in the magifht despite that Ramshackle did not have the seven students, in book 4 (here Crowley leaves a lot to be desired, he goes on vacation and leaves the Ramshackle duo at the academy) he gives him an emergency phone and a banquet as a reward for doing the errand. , and in book 5 he gives you FREE tickets to invite other people to the VDC

Despite all the problems that Yuu and Grim have caused… despite the fact that they have been given many reasons… despite the fact that at the end of book 5 and beginning of book 6 Grim showed himself to be a danger to EVERYONE… Crowley has not thrown them out on the street and has treated them as much as part of the staff as students, I dare say that he sees them as his right hands to whom he can entrust the jobs that only they could do as in book 2. So that they would find out who is ruining the event and in book 3 entrusting them with the task to help him so that Azul does not extort him again… that, my friends, is called trust, something so precious that it is difficult to obtain and easy to lose… and Until the moment Crowley and the duo have a relationship of mutual trust, it has its ups and downs of course. What relationship doesn’t? And Crowley won’t be the best tutor/guardian and will ridicule him, but at least I can’t deny that he has done good things for Ramshackle.

Shit! I've been writing about Crowley for almost two pages, I'd better cut this short on Crowley to talk about the ancestor.

Lilith

Ahh... Lilith... as I told you at the beginning, I don't like Lilith, in fact, I dare say that Lilith was the greatest evil that could have happened to Mc, I will try to argue and show my points with the least amount of rudeness and anger possible

I don't know where to start with Lilith MY GOD! She did a lot and at the same time nothing. How is that possible? In order not to make this long, I will only talk about the first season (although in the others it is practically not even mentioned) and I will talk about it as an ancestor

Shit…

I still have a hard time believing that Lilith is portrayed as a good ancestor, she literally USED her descendant to solve her brothers' problems, in most of season 1 she is only mentioned, come on, the one who is not there (when she is It is), it only appears when Mc goes to the attic to see who freed Belphegor. Surprise! Lilith manifests her power so that Mc can enter the attic and Belphegor ends up hanging her. Congratulations Lilith! You indirectly killed your descendant! How are you not going to demonstrate again to stop your genocidal brother?

She revived Mc without asking her a “Are you okay?” or a “I apologize on behalf of my brothers” she only told her to help her brothers because she chose her! That is, HELLO?! Your brother killed your descendant in one of the most horrible ways to die, AT LEAST ASK HER HOW SHE IS FEELING BEFORE ORDERING HER TO HELP THEM BECAUSE THAT IS HER REASON FOR SHE BEING THERE! No more I’m not saying that Mc had a strong trauma or existential crisis from that because the story doesn’t delve into it! IN THE NAME OF GOD, JESUS AND THE HOLY SPIRIT!!!

Solomon from “What in the hell is bad?” he apologized to his descendant in the middle of a fight! Why didn't Lilith even say “I'm sorry”?!?! Michael had to go and apologize to Mc for all the shit she went through!!! That's how it is!! Michael!! And there are people who talk about Michael as if he were a monster when Lilith and most of the siblings are the real monsters!!! Or did they forget what the brothers' initial treatment of Mc was like and how RADICAL they changed when they found out that Mc was a descendant of Lilith?!?! Belphegor literally went from wanting to kill her to fighting with his brothers for sitting next to her, the fact that he feels guilty does not free him from his actions and it would be extremely surprising if Mc does not end up with another trauma because of it.

I’m already digressing… But that’s my point of view. In short, Crowley may be incompetent, but at least sometimes he does good things and takes trouble with Yuu, unlike Lilith who does nothing apart from sacrificing her descendant for the brothers, I don’t understand why there are people who defend Lilith and they throw shit at Crowley

[hayatheauthor]

How To Write A Disabled Character: The Dos And Don’ts 

As an author, it’s important to ensure the content you create doesn’t accidentally offend or misrepresent a community, especially one you don’t belong to. This is why I made my previous post talking about how to write POC characters without seeming racist, and why I decided to write this blog post on how to write a disabled character. 

Before I jump into my writing tips, I would like to put out a disclaimer. Unlike my previous post, where I could speak from personal experience, I am not disabled and thus am not attempting to be a spokesperson for the community. However, I have previously written several disabled characters and decided to make a guide of sorts for authors like me. 

I would also like to mention that I did some research into acceptable terminology before writing this, using this website and others, however, I am always open to learning and correcting myself if and when I do make a mistake. 

Don’t Make Their Disability Their Personality 

This is possibly one of the most important things to keep in mind when writing with a disabled character. This is an issue when writing about any minority, really, but it is especially true for this community. A person’s disability doesn’t define them or their personality, and the whole introverted disabled person trope gets a little tiring. 

It’s sort of like how every gay man isn’t overly feminine. Yes, there are disabled people who can be sad and quiet and introverted, just like there are others who are loud and obnoxious and extroverted. 

When writing a disabled character, you need to incorporate their disability into their personality rather than making it their personality. A fun-loving protagonist with a hearing aid might slap fun stickers onto it, showcasing their personality. Maybe a person in a wheelchair loves to paint it a new colour every other month. 

These are just examples of ways you could introduce your character with their personality rather than their disability. She saw a peak of pink behind the protagonist’s ears, he watched as a neon green wheelchair sped towards him with a whooping boy seated on it. 

When creating your OC forms, take the time to actually consider how their personality impacts their relationships with their disability and how that impacts their relations with others. 

Know What You’re Writing About 

Do your research! I sincerely cannot stress how important it is for a writer, or any sort of creator, to take the time to research the medical conditions their characters are going through. The same writers who pour over several articles to figure out how much blood would their character realistically lose by a stab wound are often the ones who choose to overlook the complexities and finer details when it comes to a disabled character. 

The issue with this is the spread of misinformation it can cause amongst your readers. This especially applies to factors such as sign language, brail, etc. Think of it this way, if you are bothered enough to use Google translate for dialogues written in a language you don’t speak, then why can’t you do the same for unspoken languages? 

Whether your character has an intellectual, physical, sensory, or other disability, it’s important to take the time to thoroughly research the issues you are portraying. 

Here are some things to consider when writing a disabled character: 

Are there any side effects caused by this disability? If yes, how does this impact them on a daily basis? 

Is the disability curable or reversible? Do other people have access to solutions your character cannot afford? 

Does their disability, develop, change, etc. over time? 

Show Don’t Tell 

Rather than simply telling us about their disabilities, it’s important for you to them show your readers. I previously mentioned how you can do this by incorporating their personalities into your writing, but that is only one aspect writers should consider. 

It’s also important to treat your character as you would treat any other character. Many authors often write long winding descriptions of the things their character can see, hear, or feel. It’s important to do the same when writing with a disabled character as well. Especially if they have a sensory disability! 

Maybe your character can’t see but their lips curl up into a smile when they hear a soft swish of fabric by their side, because they know it means their sister bought that dress she was talking about. 

Recognising a character’s limitations also gives you an idea of how your character would experience the world and allows you to accurately translate that to your readers. 

Flesh Out Their Relationships 

Finally, it’s very important for writers to break away from the cliches when writing about disabled characters. It gets tiring reading about a disabled character who is pitied by everyone around them until someone special comes along and sees them for themselves. It is also important to recognise that a disabled character doesn’t necessarily have to only befriend other disabled characters. 

Your disabled characters can have friends, rivals, love interests, mentors, etc. without these relationships tying into their disability. Don’t restrict your character’s experiences simply because of their disability! A great example of a well-written disabled character would be Isaac played by George Robinson. 

Final Words

Writing about a community you don’t come from can be scary because you need to consider whether or not you’re accidentally offending or misrepresenting someone. This is why writers often stick to the communities they come from, which directly impacts the amount of representation for marginalised communities. 

However, I feel that the right amount of research and a willingness to learn is all you really need to be able to write about a community you don’t come from.

I hope this blog on how to write a disabled character: the dos and don’ts will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday. 

Want to learn more about me and my writing journey? Visit my social media pages under the handle @hayatheauthor where I post content about my WIP The Traitor’s Throne and life as a teenage author. 

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Darkness At The Heart Of My Love

Pairings: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia X GN!Reader

Type: Fluff that turns to angst w/ no comfort

Summary: Copia had just begun his reign as Papa, and was overworked. He needed to get away from the ministry and all of it. He found someone along the way. Someone who showed him love and happiness. It was perfect, until things changed, and then things descended into chaos.

Warnings: Mentions of character death, heartbreak, use of Y/N, google translated Italian

Word Count: 3,619

Notes: I’m debating on whether I want to make this into a short series. I already have the second part written, but I don’t know how I feel about the plot I previously had for the third part. I originally did this as a self insert, so if there are pronouns that don't correlate with a gender neutral reader, please let me know I will fix it asap. Also I'm sorry for the way the song lyrics copied over, you're just gonna have to deal with it (unfortunately).

Read on AO3

~

When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always

Will you walk the line?

My path serpentine

Remember always

That love is all you need

Tell me who you wanna be

And I will set you free

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

For you

It was a September afternoon. The leaves were just starting to change and the air had just started to relieve itself of its hellish temperatures. Summer finally started saying its goodbye.

The Clergy had been on Copia’s back recently due to his most recent accomplishment of being in talks to become the new Papa. He knew that they just wanted everything perfect, but he was struggling to believe he could live up to their practically impossible standards. It had been an impossibly long day, and he knew that he needed a break before he snapped, inflicting the wrath of Sister Imperator.

He drove around, just trying to clear his head until he found a café. A small little thing that looked very simple. He didn’t bother to check the name or the reviews before walking inside.

“Good afternoon! How can I help you today?” A chipper voice called out to him. His head snapped up from his phone as he set his eyes on them.

“Oh, hello. I-I’m good. How are you today?” He responded, his cheeks reddening slightly as he stumbled over his words.

“Well, it would be better if it were time to go home, but honestly I can’t complain too much,” the cashier responded. “What can I get for you today?”

Copia looked over the menu for just a moment. “Could I just get a black coffee and a blueberry scone?”

“Sure thing!” They smiled as they told him the total and grabbed his scone. They handed him the bag, and his hand lingered for a moment. He held his breath once he realized what he was doing, and grabbed the bag.

“Grazie,” he mumbled as he walked over to the other end of the counter to wait on his coffee. He watched as they poured the coffee, entranced by their every move.

“Here’s your coffee, sir,” they called as if he wasn’t jumping at the chance to talk to them again.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and finding a seat. He was the only person actually sitting down, everyone else who came in got their orders and left. Copia knew that wouldn’t do for him. If he left, he didn’t know what would have happened.

He sat for a while, eating his scone and sipping his coffee. It was peaceful in the little café. Soft music played over the speakers, and the scent of freshly baked treats filled the air. It was nice.

“I’m heading out now! I’ll see you guys later!” He heard them call, apron off and bag in their hand. He watched them walk towards the door, and jumped up, not really knowing what he was doing.

“Excuse me, but I was just wondering if you-if you had any plans today. It’s been a long day, and you seem like you would be nice to talk to. Only, if you want to of course! I just thought you were gorgeous-I mean you seemed nice. Not that you aren’t gorgeous of course! I’m sorry, I don’t really talk to people outside of my work,” he rushed his words. He was slightly shaking, scared of what they would say.

“I don’t have any plans,” they smiled. “There’s a park right down the road, I could take you if you wanted.”

A look of relief washed over his tired face. “Really? I-well, I would like that actually.”

“My name is Y/N,” they said, holding out their arm.

He looped his arm in theirs, internally smacking himself for not asking their name earlier. “Copia.”

“Well, Copia, it’s nice to meet you.” They squeezed his arm lightly as they left the café. He smiled and looked at the ground.

The park wasn’t far at all, just about a ten minute walk. It was pretty, especially now that the leaves were changing their colors, shedding their summertime glow. There was a winding path that had trees scattered along with a few bushes surrounding them. The flowers on the ground were already wilting, but the scene was still beautiful nonetheless.

“So, Copia, what brought you to my little café?” They asked, their head tilting as they continued to walk arm in arm. Copia found it refreshing to not have his title used to address him for once. It seemed to be all he heard now.

“Well, work has been getting to me. Sis-My boss likes everything to be perfect. It’s just the way that the company is run. I’m beginning to take on a new…new mantle, and in order to properly take it on, I have to be perfect. It is a lot of stress for one man.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure it is stressful. May I ask where you work? I might be able to help, or at least provide some comfort with a little more context.”

He was hoping they wouldn’t ask that question, terrified of scaring them off. “Well, it’s a, uh, ministry of sorts.”

“Oh, so you’re going to become a priest. I guess that could be difficult. Not living a life of sin and being perfect for God and all of his followers.”

“Well, not exactly,” he admitted to them. “Are you religious?”

“I’m not entirely religious. I’m sure there’s a source of something out there, but if it is, I haven’t found it. I don’t judge religions though.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” he sighed. They gave him an odd look. “Our ministry isn’t exactly…Christian.”

“Now I'm a little bit confused.”

He laughed lightly at their response. “It’s a Satanic church. We preach about the word of Satan, and it’s a fun little gig we have going. We use a band to spread the word. Maybe you have heard of it?”

“That's interesting. What is your band called? I’m not sure whether I would have heard of it or not.”

“It’s called Ghost, we are pretty popular,” he teased. He wouldn’t be sure whether they’d heard of it or not, and was surprised by their reaction to saying he was with a satanic church.

“No, I don’t think I have heard of it actually.”

“Well, what kind of music do you like? I can help be a good judge of whether it would provide entertainment. It’s, eh, not really your basic music.”

“I’ll listen to almost anything, honestly. I’m always down for a good tune.”

Copia was taken aback by this a bit, a pleasantly shocked look on his face. “Well, it’s a rock band. A pretty good one if I do say so myself.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a listen later.” 

They continued to walk for a minute in silence before Copia piped up. “So, what do you do for fun?”

“I don’t really know. I like to read, watch TV, listen to music, and all the basic things.”

“What about video games? Any of that interest you?”

“Not really. I never got into gaming.”

“Interesting.”

“What about you, Copia?”

“I play a game or two here and there, but with the Ministry, I don’t get much time to myself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry that sucks. You can always call me up, if you want some company. I don’t really do much other than work. Here,” they said, sticking their phone out to him, “put your number in, and then you can text me whenever you get too stressed and need an outside source for comfort.” Copia took the phone, put his number in, and sent himself a message to make sure he didn’t put it in wrong, then they continued on their first walk of many.

And that is what they did for months.

They texted back and forth often, called, and even went on quite a few dates. Copia had yet another long day, and knew that he could trust the person he now proudly called his partner. He called, asking if he could spend the night at their apartment, and of course they said yes.

Copia made his way to their apartment, using his key to get inside. “Dolcezza? I’m here, amore.”

“I’m in the bathroom! Just got out of the shower!” They called, and he walked that way. He still had on his paints, which still shocked them sometimes, but they were beginning to grow used to it. “Well don’t you look handsome?” They teased, noting that he was in a hoodie and sweatpants.

“What? Oh, heh, yeah I guess I am a beauty. But you, amore mio, look stunning.” He grabbed their hips, pulling them into a kiss. They had on a plain black t-shirt and a pair of black shorts to match. Their hair was wet, and before the kiss they were drying it with a towel. As they kissed, they dropped the towel in favor of wrapping their arms around his shoulders while his arms crossed around their back to pull them in.

“Well, someone missed me,” they said as they pulled away, leaving their arms around him.

“I always miss you,” he said, pressing a lighter kiss to their forehead.

“You’re so sweet, Copia,” they hummed, staring up into his mismatched eyes, nothing else but adoration showing.

“I love you, tesoro.”

“I love you too. What brings you tonight? Anything special?”

“No, just a long day. Needed a way to relax,” he hummed, looking at them.

“What do you want to do?” They asked, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“What do you say I treat you to a dance?”

“What do yo-” before they finished, Copia removed them from where they leaned on the counter, dancing with them out to the living room. They laughed as he spun the both of them around, one hand holding theirs while the other rested on their waist, kissing them while he dipped them.

They were absolutely in love, and that was easy to see. They had only been to the Abbey a few times, but any sibling of sin, ghoul, or anyone who crossed their paths could see the love on their faces.

Soon, the rings on their left ring fingers became evidence enough. Copia, being the romantic he was, proposed to them about a year and a half later.

The air was warm, spring just beginning to settle in, as they walked through the park they first walked at. They walked there often now, finding comfort in the atmosphere. Little did Y/N know that Copia had a surprise waiting for them. It wasn’t uncommon for them to go on picnics, especially not if they were sunrise or sunset picnics.

They walked the winding trail, arms linked together, as Copia nervously led them to their destination. In the other hand, Y/N held a picnic basket that had all of their favorite things, as Copia’s hand nervously fiddled with the small box containing the second most precious gem. The first being his beloved.

The sky was a gorgeous pale blue, the clouds outlined with pink and orange as the sun began to sink past the horizon. Their normal picnic spot had been set up to look very different.

Copia had to pull a few strings, but the trees were decorated with lights, and all of their favorite flowers formed to make a walkway that led to a small platform that was covered in more flowers.

He walked them towards the destination while one sibling of sin hid in the bushes to capture it on video and get the most perfect photos.

Y/N was in absolute awe. It looked like something out of a movie. “Is that for me, Copia?” They asked innocently, unsure of whether this was just for them or someone else.

“Yes, carissima. This is all for you.” He walked up to the platform, letting them take the first step. He steps up next, bending down on one knee. “I knew from the moment I laid my eyes on you that I wanted to be the one you loved. I have cherished every moment, every laugh, even the fights, all because I got to spend that time with you. You are the love and the light of my life. I love you beyond words, Y/N. So please, will you marry me?”

Crying, Y/N lowers themself to be level with him. “Yes,” they cry, holding his face in their hands and kissing him. “A thousand times, yes.”

Copia’s face lights up as he takes their left hand off his face, slipping the ring on, then pulling them into the closest hug they will ever feel in their lives.

Will you spill the wine

To summon the divine?

I'm with you always, always

Now paint a pair of eyes

And let's watch as it dries

Remember always, that love is all you need

Tell me who you wanna be

And I will set you free

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

So bold, so sweet

The big day was here. The day where Y/N and Copia would pledge their love in front of everyone.

Marrying a Papa was a big deal. Everyone in the Clergy would gather to watch the occasion. The reception, however, was for close friends and family members only.

“Are you ready?” A voice called from behind Y/N . It was their father. He wasn’t entirely on board with the concept of marrying a satanic pope, but once he realized just how wonderful Copia made them feel, he accepted the relationship, and welcomed Copia with open arms.

“I believe so,” they said, using one hand to hold the bouquet of flowers, the other smoothing down their outfit.

“Then I believe it’s time,” he said, taking their arm in his as the doors opened. They looked up to where Copia was standing in awe. He had on a gorgeous suit and his paints were on. Tradition is that they wear full regalia, but he didn’t want to remember this moment as Papa, just as Copia. He finally was able to compromise with just using his paints, so he took what he could get.

They could tell that there were tears in his eyes. He was always the sentimental type. They smiled as tears welled in their eyes as well.

As they reached the altar, their father smiled at them and kissed their cheek before sitting down. Copia reached a hand out to them as they walked up the stairs, handing a bridesmaid the bouquet of flowers.

“Hi, you look gorgeous,” he whispered excitedly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” they said, giving him a wink. The officiant began speaking, signaling the ceremony had begun. There was a bottle of wine, two chalices, and their rings on a small table next to the officiant.

A little while into the wedding, both of them poured wine into the other’s chalice, crossing their arms as they sip. It wasn’t the most necessary part of the ceremony, but it was something that they decided to do. A symbol of their joining together.

They slipped their rings on after, officially combined as one.

They walked back down the aisle, arm in arm, smiling like children, so happy that they found their perfect match. Neither of them wanted to get their outfits messed up, so as their chosen guests filed into the reception room, they changed into simpler, yet still formal, outfits.

“I am so happy that I have you now,” Copia said, coming behind Y/N to wrap them in a hug and leaned his head on their shoulders.

“Until death do us part,” Y/N responded in a joking tone.

“Not even death could keep us from each other,” he said, kissing their neck. Y/N turned around, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, kissing him.

“I would never let that happen,” they smiled.

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

For you

“Are you excited? It’s your last concert of this tour. I’m so proud of you,” Y/N said, kissing his cheek as they helped fix his robes.

“It has been a blast. I’m sad to see it come to an end, but that just means we can start new journeys now,” he smiled.

“You’re going to do amazing.” They both walked to the side of the stage, waiting for the cue that they were good to go. “Do you hear that? Copia, they love you.” A smile rested on their face, their head leaning on their husband's shoulder.

“No one could love me the way you do, dolcezza. They may love me, and I may entice them, but my eyes are only for you. I am only for you. I will be with you always,” he said, listening to the crowd’s chanting.

“It’s time. I’ll see you after the show, my love.”

“I love you,” Copia said, kissing them lovingly before walking on stage, the crowd screaming their heads off.

Y/N made their way to their designated spot above the crowd. There was always one section where they would stand and watch, no one else to bother them. The crowd was extremely reactive tonight, everyone having the best time. Even the ghouls looked to be having the greatest night of their lives. 

They smiled, singing along to every song. Occasionally, Copia would look up to where they stood, and they waved each time.

He bounced around the stage, everyone enchanted by his every move, but now the concert was coming to an end. He looked so content and happy performing that neither of them wanted this to end.

“Now this song is very special to me. I used to sing this song, worried about the pain another would cause me, or a pain that I would cause another if I let anyone near me, close to my heart. I said no! No relationships!” He paused, looking around the crowd then looking up to them. “Now, I know that I was wrong. I wish I could have figured this out sooner, but when I stepped into that little coffee shop, I’m glad it took all the time that it did. For the past few years, my love, my beautiful, my angel, my partner has been by my side. So now, I sing a new song of love. Love for the one I am so glad to be able to call my partner. For my Y/N.” He pointed at them as the crowd cheered at the mention of their name, causing them to grin and blush. "This is Darkness At The Heart of My Love!” The crowd cheered some more as the opening notes played.

He sang beautifully. His voice was perfect, and his movements bewitching. Everything about this performance proved Copia was a masterpiece. Y/N leaned onto the railing, singing and watching as their lover made his way through the song.

“Remember always that love is all you need. Tell me who you wanna be, and I will set you free,” he sang as the song drew near its end, looking up to Y/N as he did.

There's a darkness at the heart of my love

That runs cold, runs deep

The darkness at the heart of my love

So bold, so sweet

There's a darkness at the heart of my love (my love)

That runs cold (runs cold), runs deep (runs deep)

The darkness at the heart of my love (my love)

So bold (so bold), so sweet (so sweet)

Y/N didn’t notice the security coming behind them, but they recognized similar strange figures standing on either side of the stage, stalking towards Copia.

Panic flooded them as they turned to run to try and save him, though it was a waste of effort. The security guards behind them grabbed them, forcing them to watch the events unfold.

“And all this time you knew that I would put you through the darkness at the heart of my love for you!” Copia sang, unaware of the men behind him while Y/N struggled.

When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always

The men came behind Copia, grabbing his arms and legs, pulling him away from the microphone. A look of fear filled his face.

Paint a pair of eyes

Let's watch as it dries

I'm with you always, always

“No!” They screamed out, watching him get dragged off stage, struggling in the same way they were. “Copia! Please! No!” People in the few rows below them turned, watching the tears streaming down their face as they continued to scream.

Sister Imperator walked out on stage, beginning to say some words, but Y/N couldn’t make it out. The guards let them go, and they crumpled to the ground, shaking and sobbing, feeling utterly broken. “No,” they cried quieter. The crowd was painfully silent as they watched Sister. “This can’t be happening. No. Please.” A few siblings of sin walked toward them, lifting them off the ground, walking them back to a car.

They took them back to the ministry, and they cried the whole way there. They brought them to bed, changing their clothes and making them comfortable. They listened to their cries, sad looks on their faces.

They said nothing now, laying in the bed them and Copia would never share again. They held his pillow close, crying into it.

He was gone, and they wouldn’t get him back.

[zenitsustherapist]

bsd spoilers under the cut (116)

okay so we got the fucking guild comeback … louisa and fitzgerald please don’t die on us 🙏🙏

FUKUZAWA OHMYGOSH and atsushi ?????? atsushi don’t kys fighting please

KUNIKIDA AND TANIZAKI ?????? THEY ARNT DESD YET ?? dewjihcuideqnciuhwrfiuv (pls stay alive)

AYA MY SWEET SWEET CHILD

thoughts on this chapter as a whole (btw i didn’t bother translating this these are raws from the google drive under this) ::

i’m scared . but also happy in a sense ?? we don’t know what soukoku is doing (still in the prison i believe) but i’m kinda glad for that lmao

also i’m predicting that atsushi is gonna push to become the main character again so he might fight fukuchi (or whatever the fuck that thing is) but then again what’s gonna a happen to kunikida , tanizaki , aya , fitzgerald, and louisa ??? or literally everybody idk

[amertsi]

HanaDoll* 3rd Season THINK OF ME:NOTHING L 3-11 English Translation

Translation on this was done very generously by my sister, editing and proofreading done by myself and a friend! Please note none of us are professionals, so there may be errors. Thanks!

Listen along here: https://open.spotify.com/track/08noT4htdVEweaQ1RULMcl?si=b2a54387075249f9 

Read on google docs here.

L 3-11

Ageha: [walks in and sighs] Hm?

Toki: [breathes]

Ageha: Toki? How about turning on some lights?

Toki: [breathes heavier]

Ageha: [shakes Toki] Toki.

Toki: Aah… Ageha-san?

Ageha: If you're going to sleep, go to your own room.

Toki: Huh? Was I sleeping?

Ageha: You didn’t even notice when I came in.

Toki: Oh, sorry. Welcome back, Ageha-san.

Ageha: I’m back. House System, a cup of water.

House System: [beep boop]

Ageha: Toki, how was the medical check today?

Toki: Mine? It was the same as always.

Ageha: The same as always…?

Toki:　Actually, I’ve been feeling good recently! In singing and dancing, I can tell my form is getting close to perfect.

Ageha: I see. Preparations for the music awards will be starting soon. I don’t need to remind you, but take care of yourself.

Toki: Okay!

Ageha: ...Where did he go?

Toki: If you mean Rui-san, I think he’s in his room. Should I call him?

Ageha: No, there’s no need. You should rest too. 

Toki: Eh? But…

Ageha: What is it?

Toki: If it’s not too much of a bother、 can’t I stay here a little longer? Somehow, I’m not very sleepy…

Ageha: [sighs] Fine, then just sit there with your eyes closed.

Toki:　Huh?

Ageha: If you do that, you can rest a little. It would be best to lie down, but if you make enough time to quickly listen to the information from the MC, that would be enough.

Toki: Ageha-san. I’m doing okay! I really feel better!

Ageha: I believe you. But you should know. From now on, Loulou*di will be a group looked up to and supported by all. 

Toki: So our health has to be in perfect condition, right?

Ageha: That’s right. 

Toki: I understand. Then, I’m closing my eyes. 

Toki: Ehehehe.

Ageha: What is it?

Toki: It’s just, I’m having fun. 

Ageha: Fun?

Toki: Even though my eyes are closed, I keep thinking about what Ageha-san is doing. Like, now he’s drinking water, and now he’s writing something. 

Ageha: I see.

Toki: Even though I can’t see, there are still things I understand.

Ageha: Toki.

Toki: I love that someone’s here in the same space as me. It makes me… so… [light snoring]

Ageha: [sighs] He fell asleep.

Rui: Ageha.

Ageha: Rui. What were you doing until now? Nevermind, you don’t have to answer that. It makes no difference anyway.

Rui: Are you angry? 

Ageha: Angry? Me?

Rui: I guess not.

Ageha: Do you not understand the current situation? Don't leave a tamed puppy unattended.

Rui: I didn't mean to, but I'll apologize.

Ageha: You enjoy irritating me. 

Rui: I understand the current situation. The groundwork I laid the other day is also going smoothly, I think.

Ageha: Yes, the power and message of Loulou*di is spreading nicely. To the world, and to that person too. 

Rui: The number of views on that video is still increasing, even several months after it was released. It seems that the number of subscribers to our music channel is also increasing.

Ageha: Naturally. From the moment the masses hear Loulou*di's songs and see their performances, they drown. They sink to the bottom of a deep, dark abyss. And like reaching for the light that they can see beyond the surface of the water, they cannot help but look up at the brilliance of Loulou*di.

Rui: Hmm...

Ageha: If you have something to say, then say it.

Rui: No, if that is what you say, then that is how it is. 

Ageha: Toki is necessary to create the perfect Loulou*di.

Rui: Ah, I understand.

Ageha: If you understand, then quickly carry him to his room.

Rui: And you? 

Ageha: What do you mean? 

Rui: Yesterday, your sleep hours were less than optimal. Even today, you were out late-

Ageha: You really are a bad man. You even know my sleeping schedule. This is a critical time for Loulou*di. If I’m asked I’ll answer, and if I plan to sell out, I’ll sell everything. 

Rui: Then tell me what needs to be done. We’ll do as you say.

Ageha: Praise an obedient dog, and he’ll become an even greater watchdog. Practice for the music awards will begin soon. We must showcase the overwhelming perfection of Loulou*di without any other idol riff-raff getting in the way. And until the event, there is just one piece we’ll need. Watch over Toki carefully.

Rui: To you, Toki-bou is a necessary piece. Then, what am I?

Ageha: If you have time to say such stupid things, then go away quickly. 

Rui: Understood. [picks up Toki and walks out]

Toki: Ah, Rui-san? 

Rui: Toki-bou. 

Toki: I can go back on my own.

Rui: It’s alright, just stay as you are.

Toki: Okay…

---

[Loulou*di performing Dying Matter, the song ends]

Set Designer: [claps] Good work! I think that was really great! You’ve got the steps down perfectly in such a short time.

Toki: Of course. Don’t compare me with those low level idols.

Set Designer: Huh? Ahh, right…

Ageha: Excuse me. Please change the set leading up to the chorus.

Set Designer：Huh?! But-

Ageha: It’s inconsistent with our current conceptual image. Please change it to something that expresses more emotion.

Set Designer：But, I thought it was exactly what you’d asked for-

Ageha: That's your interpretation. We can't continue with something that we've judged to be bad. We never compromise. We always aim for perfection. That's what it means to be Loulou*di.

Toki: That’s right. If you can’t understand that, maybe you should just quit? 

Set Designer：Ngh!　I understand. Then, I’ll come up with a different set and submit it in a few days. [leaves]

Toki: What was that about? Isn’t that too rude?

Rui: Ageha. Toki-bou. Here, water. 

Toki: Ahh, Rui-san! Thank you. 

Rui: Did something happen? 

Ageha: He had loosened up so I had to light the fire a little. Even then, he's a professional stage designer. If he abandons his job after a blow of that degree, then he is just another inferior person. 

Toki: The Loulou*di that aspires for perfection has no need for half-assed people like that, right? 

Ageha: That’s right. We are standing on a brand new stage. Now we must climb to greater heights by cutting off any who cannot keep up.

Rui: Ageha.

Ageha: [breathes] The path is clear. Now, we must continue down it. Whatever lies ahead… we cannot be afraid. 

---

Girl １：Sorry for the wait! The train was late. 

Girl ２：It’s okay! I watched some videos while I waited.

Girl １：What did you watch?

Girl ２：Cat videos, and manga. Oh, and I saw Loulou*di’s new video. 

Girl １：Loulou*di…  Is that the group that just premiered their music channel?

Girl ２：That’s it. They’ve become a hot topic, so I subscribed to the channel… Wait, are you a fan?

Girl １：I'm not sure anymore. The image of the group has changed since I first started liking them. It feels like I've graduated from being a Loumiel.

Girl ２：Loumiel is the name for Loulou*di's fans, right?

Girl １：Yeah. The community has been pretty chaotic recently because of the music channel thing.

Girl ２：Huh? Why?

Girl １：Well, there are a lot of people who have been unhappy with how it has changed.

Girl ２：It sounds like they just don't get along. That's a common story in any fanbase.

Girl １：I wonder if they didn't realize that there would be a backlash if they suddenly did that kind of approach. I wouldn't do it...

Girl ２：Hmmm, that group Anthos from the same production group is doing well, so maybe they’re trying to imitate what they’re doing? 

Girl １：Even so, I don't think it's working out well. If the concept of a unit is suddenly changed, there will be fans who can't keep up.

---

[logging in noise]

Internet Fan 1: Excuse me! Ah, you changed the design of your room?

Internet Fan ２: Yeah, I couldn't leave it as Loulou*di's performance stage forever. It felt kind of empty.

Internet Fan 1: Isn’t it? Loulou*di really isn’t here anymore… 

Internet Fan ２: It's true. I didn't want them to stoop down to a place where anyone could easily see them on a music channel.

Internet Fan 1: I know. If they had just stayed at the top, we would have worshiped and praised them from afar, and loved and followed them.

Internet Fan ２: But they reached out to us all of a sudden.

Internet Fan 1: It feels like the mystery is gone.

Internet Fan ２: Right. All the other Loumiels are saying that. Well, in this day and age, I don't think anyone would think it's slander. But, of course, the publishing industry is in chaos.

Internet Fan 1: [sighs] I wish Loulou*di would go back to the way it was before. The one who was here, the absolute ruler, the amazing charisma… Loulou*di … Ageha-sama was that kind of person. 

Internet Fan ２: Yeah. I thought he was being himself. I think in some way… I didn’t want to realize that he was just a human being…

[galexis-void]

"Just Toying Around" (Candybats)

A/N: Okay, this one is more story based (unintentionally). Try to enjoy anyway, I spent a while on it.

Also, I used Google Translate for a decent chunk of this, so if I wrote something in your language and it's wrong, I sincerely apologize.

Summary: Streber received a strange gift in the mail, and his curiosity lands Kevin in a quite a predicament.

Trigger warnings: None that I can think of

Reminder: These stories are not built on logic. They're made to entertain, not to make sense. Also, be prepared if the characters here are out of character completely (again, the intention is not to be perfect).

(fic below the cut)

     Streber fiddled absently with the stuffed doll, staring blankly at its button-eyed face. The doll was simple, made of white fabric and with two buttons for eyes and a stitched mouth. There were no other distinguishing features.

     For days he’d been attempting to “animate” the toy. Gone were the days when practical mechanics excited him - his new focus was something much greater than that. If he could bring a toy to life… well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with that knowledge yet, but he was certain it’d be something world-changing.

     Now, if only he could get the damn thing to work.

     A low whistle from the room caught his attention. “Are you really gonna keep yourself locked up in the batcave forever?”

     “That’s copyright, Kev,” Streber mumbled to himself.

     “You think I care? The only thing I care about is the fact that you’ve been in here for days.”

     Streber sighed, and threw the doll on the floor. “I can’t get this stupid thing to work!”

     “…it’s a toy.”

     “Look, babe, I love you, but please don’t question my work. Now, I need to figure out if I can make a machine for this thing.”

     Kevin entered the room and took a seat on the bed. “Really trying to get out of using that book, huh?”

     He was referring to the alleged spellbook that Streber had received as a gift a few days prior. There had been no name or return address on the package it had arrived in, just a picture of a crystal ball. While he’d tested some of the lesser spells out of morbid curiosity, he’d sworn off of using it. He claimed it was because he wanted his work to be a result of his “genuine intellectual prowess”, but the few friends of his who knew about the book knew the truth - he was afraid of the kind of things he could do with that power.

     “I don’t wanna hear that from the guy who has nightmares about the supernatural almost every day,” Streber answered stiffly, glancing over his shoulder at his boyfriend.

     “That was different. I couldn’t predict or control what happened then. But this is literally untold power you hold in your hands. And I’m surprised you haven’t been totally abusing it.”

     “You know I don’t like not knowing what will happen. Any spell in that thing-” he waved at it, “-could just as easily drop a meteor on the house as it could turn us all into dust. It’s not worth the risk.”

     “Did you even read any of the spells you cast, or did you just pick one and read it off?”

     Streber cursed under his breath. He hadn’t bothered to read them because he’d doubted the book’s authenticity. “I hate you.”

     “I’ll take that as a no. Maybe there’s an anti-lying spell in there that I can use on you. Even if you didn’t mean it, it still kinda hurts to hear that.”

     Streber rose and fetched the book. The cover was thick leather, though somehow it shone a metallic gold color. A large amethyst was set in the center, surrounded by silver symbols written in some lexicon that Streber didn’t recognize - they didn’t look like any lettering he’d seen before, English or otherwise. Silver clasps and a silver spine bound the book together. At first glance it looked like an elaborate prop, like something you’d see in the hands of a wizard in a fantasy movie.

     “Open it,” his boyfriend urged.

     “What’s with your sudden change in attitude? I would think this kind of thing would terrify you.”

     Kevin shrugged. “I gave up on things going back to normal when I was cornered by a serial killer. And before that a possessed doll. And a Lovecraftian horror before that. I don’t like it, but I figured it’d be better to embrace the change.”

     “That… is not something I’d expect to hear from you. But you’re right. When in Rome, I guess. Now let’s crack this puppy open.”

     He opened the book to a random page. It was mostly words, but only one set was in English. There seemed to be one page dedicated to one spell, with the English translation first, followed by numerous other languages.

ANIMATION SPELL - HECHIZO DE ANIMACIÓN - SORT D'ANIMATION - INCANTESIMO DI ANIMAZIONE - ANIMATUM CARMINA - ANIMATIONSMAGIE - Анимационное заклинание - 动画咒语 - アニメーション化された呪文

     There were even a few lines written in the unidentified lexicon again, but Streber didn’t bother trying to decipher those. Instead, he scanned the page for the English translation of the spell. Strangely, he found exactly what he was looking for on the first try.

You will need: the object you wish to animate, salt water, vanilla extract, and a person you intend to separate the soul from to use for the spell. Do not be afraid - you can return the soul to the original body at any time, with no harm done.

✫   ✫   ✫   ✫   ✫

Focus on the object of your fascination. Prepare a soak of salt water and a drop of vanilla. Steep the object of your fascination into the stew and wait for exactly four minutes. Remove the object. 

✫   ✫   ✫   ✫   ✫

Take the person you intend to separate the soul from and have them soak their hands in the stew for four minutes and three seconds. Two minutes into this process, place the object back into the stew and let them soak together. After four minutes and three seconds have passed, remove the object and have the person remove their hands, then say the following incantation:

✦ ✦ “REDDE HANC ANIMAM. SINITE HANC REM FLORERE.” ✦ ✦

To reverse the incantation, locate the corresponding restorative spell on page 242.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

     Streber glanced over the page once more, trying to comprehend. Kevin, who had been reading over his boyfriend’s shoulder, looked a bit pale. “Is this safe?”

     “Probably. I mean, they wouldn’t write it down if it wasn’t safe, right?”

     “Did you miss the part where it says you have to sacrifice a living soul to animate the object?”

     “Did you miss the part where it says you can return things to how they were?”

     “You’d better make sure that spell actually exists before you try this one.”

     Streber flipped to page 242, and located the spell in question. Much like the animation spell, it listed clear instructions for how to restore a dislocated soul, whether forcefully removed or having been disembodied for another reason. “Looks legitimate.”

     “You’re lucky I love you, otherwise I would never allow you to do this.”

     “I’ll make sure that I do it correctly. And I’ll switch you back right away.”

     The boys spent the next ten minutes collecting what they needed. Streber was meticulous with the instructions, not wanting to screw anything up. Throughout, it became increasingly obvious that Kevin was nervous - it seemed despite his big talk earlier, he was still plenty averse to anything vaguely unnatural. Even so, he didn’t withdraw from the procedure.

     Streber cleared his throat, and began to read the incantation aloud. Even though he didn’t sound any different, a sort of chill washed over him as he spoke, and it felt like he was breathing a little heavier. A breeze whipped through the room, threatening to tear the picture frames from the wall and sending his research papers scattered everywhere.

     The scariest part was that Kevin was nowhere to be seen.

     Streber immediately dropped the book in a panic, and called out worriedly for his boyfriend. Had he done the spell wrong? The spell was supposed to give life to the doll, not make his boyfriend vanish into thin air!

     Wait. The doll.

     Streber glanced over the table and almost shrieked. The doll was still there, but it didn’t look the same as before. Its lined smile had sunken into an almost surly expression, and now it had clothes…

     …clothes that looked exactly like the ones Kevin had been wearing a few minutes ago!

     Streber hesitantly picked up the doll. Now that he was looking over it more carefully, the doll looked unmistakably like Kevin. Starting to panic again, he turned the doll over in his hands again and again. The doll seemed lifeless, which meant that while Kevin’s soul had merged with the doll, the spell hadn’t completely worked.

     But Streber didn’t care about that anymore - the immediate concern was Kevin.

     Hey! Take it easy! I’m getting dizzy… *bleh*

     Streber dropped the doll in fright. It sounded like Kevin, but…

     Ouch…

     Streber glanced down at the fallen toy, carefully reaching for it. Was this possible?

     “Kev?” he questioned doubtfully.

     Yeah, it’s me! I don’t think your spell worked…

     “You definitely merged with the doll, but all that did was make it look like you.”

     *hrrrgh* I-I can’t move!

     “It’s okay, I got you. Let’s see what we can do to get you back to normal.”

     But as soon as he said that, something else crossed his mind. If this doll was basically a miniature Kevin…

     “Actually…” he started slowly, carefully running a finger over the doll’s side stitches, “…I’m gonna try something first.”

     Huh? C’mon, I don’t wanna stay-EEEEK!

     Streber heard a familiar squeak, and he smiled… yes, his theory was correct.

     Streber poked the doll’s belly, each flustered sound from his boyfriend making him smile wider and wider. Chuckling softly, he kept poking various spots on the toy’s torso, enjoying the delightful laughs and squeals from Keivn.

     AAIIEHEHEHE! H-HEHEHEHEY! THIS ISN’T FA- HAHAHAHAHA!

     “Oh, shush, you know you love it,” Streber teased. He then switched tactics and smothered the doll’s midsection with kisses.

     EEEEEEEHHEHEHEHEHEHE! I’M GONNA DIHIHIHIE!

     “You are so dramatic, you know that? It’s just belly kisses, Kev. You love those!~”

     But eventually, Streber did stop the tickles. He needed to work on getting Kevin back to normal - there would be plenty of time for tickles after that.

     After about an hour of continuous failures, Streber lunged forward and tightly embraced his very disoriented partner. “Finally! I’m so glad to see you!”

     “I’m glad to be me again,” Kevin mumbled in a daze. But he quickly snapped out of it when Streber squeezed his sides. “WHAHAHA-? COME OHOHON!”

     “Hey, something could’ve gone wrong with the spell! I have to make sure everything’s in order! Like maybe you’re missing a bone or two, or you lost some of your squish.”

     Suffice to say, the rest of the night was filled with loud laughs - from both sides.

-END-

[yukirayu]

A Haunting Shadow, a Drifting Ghost (A Meta about Madarame)

In this thread, I'll be looking into when and why Madarame shows himself to Towa, and all other things related to it. (This is also available on Google Docs, if you want to read it there instead for convenience.)

I'll start by saying the following:

I love Madarame, and I find him to be a very interesting character. That being said, I also get why many don’t like him. And for this meta, I'm not wearing a pair of rose-tinted glasses when I analyze him and I’ll say things as they are. 

Everything you see here is only my opinion. I do my best to explain based on what the visual novel showed us, but we still all have a different way of interpreting things.  

By the time I made this meta, the progress of the translation of Madarame’s drama CD has only been on the first track, so some things here may likely have been discredited there. But based on the little I can infer from what I had listened, what’s covered in the drama CD isn’t likely to coincide much with what I’ll discuss here, but then again, I could be wrong. 

If I quote anything from the visual novel, I opted to rephrase it into third-person POV because that’s how it originally read in the JP version anyway, and doing so helps provide more objectivity. 

Be warned that there are spoilers abound here, so be warned before you read any further because if you have not yet gotten to his route, I advise that you play his route - or rather - that you finish all the routes first before reading this. 

And with that…

Setting the Stage for Madarame’s Appearance

Madarame’s Route

When we all first played Taku and Rei's routes, we at least got to see Fujieda. But no signs of Madarame at all; at most, just a few mentions of his name. His route does answer why, eventually, but... not entirely.

In Madarame's route, what happens differently? Ikuina commits suicide.

This alone changes the atmosphere of the rest of the route, since it greatly affects both Towa's mood and his relationship with Taku and Rei. Both always had reservations with what Towa does as the artist 'euphoria', but besides patching up his wounds and the occasional lecture, it was more or less a normal routine for them. At least until Ikuina, because before him, none of the previous models died.

It's why they become a lot more grave and cautious with their approach to Towa, because they feel that he may have started to take his tendencies too far. At the same time, however, Towa is overcome with an itching urge that he cannot fathom, let alone figure out how to quell. 

Both clash like oil and water, and it results in Towa drifting further away from Taku and Rei even though they try (and fail) to help him. They mean well, but they don't know the best way to help him, or even just how to get through to him. 

And so, Towa is on his own.

The final route hints that Towa was overwhelmed with a frustration that neither violence nor sex can truly sate because he's actually bothered by the fact that he, in a way, took a life.

But he never realizes this, because he needs to remember his past in order to do so. And his own subconscious is determined to keep certain memories hidden and forgotten. So without an answer, and with every day that he can't get an answer, a release, or any form of support (that he wouldn’t reject), Towa becomes more frustrated and vulnerable in equal measure.

Even the bar manager comments on how Towa starts to look more like his old self using the same word: vulnerable.

Because some things play differently, Towa never ends up getting curious about his past (or more specifically, his childhood), so his thoughts remain hazy as long as his mind lacks something to focus on.

Shortly after, he is suddenly handed over a red windproof lighter, which hints to him that Madarame - after years of being presumed dead - is actually alive. With this and the rumors of a “ghost” that’s been haunting the Deathmatch Area, Towa easily puts two and two together.

Like his childhood in Euphoria, Madarame is also a part of Towa’s past that he would rather forget. In this case, however, it's a more conscious decision, rather than an unconscious one brought about by his mental trauma trying to keep his sanity intact. As such, while it doesn't exactly help abate that discontent inside him, wondering whether Madarame is really alive or not still (in a way) did its job in keeping his mind preoccupied on something else.

In time, it would soon lead to when Madarame eventually shows himself to Towa.

Fujieda’s Route

In Fujieda's route, Towa is in a similarly miserable situation, though it has less to do with his model committing suicide (which he doesn't even learn of until much much later), and more with the mental stress he starts to suffer from after receiving a package containing relics of his childhood.

While the effect of the change of events on Towa’s relationship with Taku and Rei are nowhere near as bad, there's nevertheless some distance between them in the last route that leaves Towa (mostly) on his own. This is because this time around, one can't help him while the other won't help him with what he wants. 

In Rei's case, it's only because he doesn't know what's going on and thus truly can't be of much help to Towa even though he wants to. But even then, he has his own problems to deal with, namely his father and being burdened with the man’s debt. As for Taku, Towa finds out that Taku knows more about his past... but is determined to keep it a secret at all costs, and not even any threats or call-outs will get him to spill anything. And we all know how Towa responded to that.

Unlike before, Towa knows why he’s in a state of unrest this time. Someone out there is compelling him to dig up his past, but the voices in his head tell him something which echoes what Taku also told him: “There are some things you’re better off not remembering.”

And again, he tries to quell his frustrations with violence and sex, by either picking a fight, or sleeping around with whoever’s willing to give it to him. However, while he’s left to his own devices, he has a clear-cut goal in his mind. He has a focus. He’s still vulnerable, but he’s not completely lost this time. 

Even then, just like before, Madarame leaves a hint to Towa that he’s still alive. And naturally, Towa also gets concerned about Madarame’s presence. But his interest in knowing more about his younger years and about his mother overshadows that concern. 

Heck, even the visual novel outright tells us (through Sakaki) that everything about Madarame will be on the back-burner in this route.  If anything, the man only gets to hog the spotlight for five minutes maximum, as we all know. 

And even before he shows up, Towa had already gone through many vicissitudes in his journey to uncover more about his childhood. So by the time Madarame shows up, the only reason why his presence really alarms Towa (besides the standard shock at how Madarame isn’t really dead) is because he has endangered not just Taku, but also Rei.  

That, and it doesn’t take too long for him to vanish as quickly as he showed up. 

The (Other) Reason behind Madarame’s Presence

“If you were too far gone, then I had no intention of involving myself with you.”

Is basically the answer to why Madarame never appears in Taku and Rei’s routes. 

However, this answer is only a half-truth.

Some of his remarks confirmed that he had - to some degree - checked on Towa a few times, and there is proof for this. While it’s easy to miss, there are instances in the earlier parts of the game where Towa pauses and looks around, feeling like he’s being watched. 

Towa’s usually right on the money whenever he feels like someone’s stalking him, so it’s highly likely that someone was watching him from a distance. That being said, we never know who it is, and the visual novel never confirms it either. Based on everything we know by the endgame, it could be Eiji keeping tabs on Towa for Sakaki. It could also be someone from the Takasato-gumi trailing Towa on Toono’s orders (at least, if you take Taku’s route). Or it could be Madarame, trying to see for himself if Towa has lost his fangs.

And there are two scenes which further support Madarame’s statement about how he has stalked Towa at some point.

One is the additional cutscene during an Exploration, which you get after completing Taku’s route and gives you the additional Clue needed to get Madarame’s route. Before bumping into Sakaki in said cutscene, Towa took notice of something… or someone else.

While Towa was on his way to Roost, he caught sight of a guy slipping away from a crowd. He recognized that man. His restless gait carried him toward an alley.

He didn't get a good look at the man’s face, but he was sure he knew him. 

But right as Towa was about to follow him...

The other is a scene from Taku’s route. While Towa and Rei are having a meal outside, Rei points out that someone’s been watching them from across the diner, but neither he nor Towa could see the guy’s face, what with it hiding behind a newspaper. 

With a tense look on his face, Rei set down his spoon and leaned across the table to whisper.

"Do you know that person? The one reading the newspaper?"

Towa followed Rei's gaze to the counter, where a man sat while reading the paper. He had it spread out so widely, Towa couldn't see his face.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

Towa, "No..."

"Well, he keeps peeking at us from behind the paper. When I looked back at him, he went straight back to 'reading'... but he's still been glancing at us. ….What's his deal? Is he a stalker?"

Towa scrutinized the man at the counter, but he never looked up from his paper. Then he rose to his feet, paid his bill, and left the diner.

[...]

More importantly, who was that man just now? If Rei was to be believed, then he was watching them for some reason.

And it wouldn't be the first time a fan of 'euphoria' stalked Towa. In that case, it would mean he really was watching Towa.

...No, he could be overthinking it. It was entirely possible the man wasn't even looking at them on purpose.

Given that Towa would recognize Madarame’s face even years later, if the mysterious stalker is Madarame, it would make sense for him to keep Towa from seeing his visage.

In Taku and Rei’s routes, Towa never really suffers any special stress-induced episodes that make him go on his own version of a rampage. He just lives life like he always had, and only gets involved in either Taku or Rei’s troubles later on. So in Madarame’s eyes,  Towa - being at peace (for the most part) and not really in the mood to bash in some skulls - is “too far gone”, which is why he’s absent on both routes and is only mentioned in passing a few times. 

But that’s the thing. Besides the injuries he got from his sessions with Ikuina and Asakura/Kirihara, Towa is none the worse for wear. And this is enough cause for Madarame to decide to not bother with Towa any longer in the first two routes. 

What’s easy to miss here is that it’s not just about Towa lacking his old rebellious streak. Madarame isn’t just trying to see if Towa has already lost all traces of his old self or not. He’s also on the lookout for something else. 

When Madarame told Towa on what basis he went with to decide whether or not he would go after Towa, he still omitted something. 

What was that part he kept quiet about? Besides the mental and emotional state Towa is in, that question can be answered with another question: what did Towa still have in both routes that slowly erodes and disappears in Madarame’s route? 

A support system. 

In other words, someone to rely on. Someone who he subconsciously trusts and can go to. Someone to look out for him at the end and at the start of the day. 

And it’s hard to say that he still has that in Madarame’s route; since while Taku and Rei do want to help him, with Towa pushing them away even before Madarame entered the picture, he may as well have had no one left. 

In Fujieda’s route, he’s still on his own, but the circumstances are different. Again, Rei - besides not being able to do much for Towa - has an issue of his own to handle. Taku already has his whole ordeal with Toono - but being caught red-handed as a secret-keeper of Towa’s past ended up adding fuel to the fire, leaving Towa alone in his pursuit of his past. And until much later in the game, Fujieda is no more than a distant and reluctant ally. 

Still, in Madarame’s eyes, in (at least) the early parts of the last route, Towa appears isolated and left without anyone to rely on. Not to mention, he’s in a near-helpless situation because of the strain he’s in from attempting to unearth a dark chapter of his past. Hence why, even though Madarame didn’t “bump into” Towa to test whether Towa was still someone who could punch back after being punched, still left a clue that he’s alive. 

So to sum up, Madarame only reveals his presence to Towa if the following conditions are met: 

✓ Towa has traces of his spunkier and younger self

✓ Towa is distant from his friends

✓ Towa is alone and vulnerable 

Option: Pursue or Abandon? 

Note: If I sound redundant by this point, it’s because I’ve already more or less discussed this topic in another meta I previously made where I compared and contrasted Madarame and Taku. I’m just going into more detail in this particular meta (or at least, I think I am). 

Prelude: Yet Another Reason

So there’s the matter of when Madarame reveals himself to Towa. But there’s also the matter of whether he continues going after Towa or not. 

I listed a while ago the three conditions that needed to be met in order for Madarame to make his presence known to Towa. Again, to make his presence known. 

Even after he and Towa meet face-to-face, Madarame’s hunt is far from over. He’s still gauging the situation. There’s still something else that he’s observing.

In other words, as for whether he will continue pursuing Towa or decide to give it up, a secret fourth condition needs to be met. 

This is something that he can gauge from when he first shows up in both his and Fujieda’s routes.

In his own route, it’s only a given that he goes all in. In Fujieda’s route, he calls it quits instead. For the latter case, it’s only natural because he’s not the love interest there, but that’s not all.

In the scene where he appears in the Deathmatch Area, there are a lot of interesting things to observe up to when Madarame suddenly decides to just make his leave, since they all lend credence to what I said earlier: that Madarame wasn’t telling the complete truth when he told Towa that he’d only find him worth going after if he still had his old fighting spirit. 

Looking at his route alone, it is hard to see what other motive Madarame would have, given that the route would mention how he’s a man who’s true to his desires. He seems collected, sure, but his mercurial nature is also reflected in how he does whatever he pleases whenever he feels like it. He’s not a man of restraint, either in his actions or in his words.

But it doesn’t mean he’s someone who would never lie for his own benefit.  

As discussed in the meta I mentioned earlier, there was when he tells nothing to Towa about his past in his route, only hinting that Taku knows something but is keeping it from him… but then he does the opposite in Fujieda’s route. He doesn’t tell everything, but what he does reveal to Towa is enough for him (and Fujieda) to make progress with their investigation. 

Given that Towa becomes distressed upon learning the truth, but the full scope or just a partial detail, it’s strongly hinted that whether Madarame divulges anything or not is done with the same goal. Since Towa’s investigation of his past results in some distance between him and Taku and Rei, Madarame seeks to sever those bonds completely. 

This makes up one half of that secret fourth condition. As for the other half, we’ll have to cover a few other points first.

First Encounter: The When, Where and How

To get there, let’s first recall in detail the setting of when Towa and Madarame first meet face-to-face in both routes, and I’m not just talking about the room they’re in. This is important.

In Madarame’s route, Towa was forced to meet with whoever called him alone. He had no choice since Taku was held hostage, and the caller made it clear that Taku is as good as dead if Towa tries anything funny. So Towa does as he’s told… and gets knocked out. When he comes to and realizes that the culprit is Madarame, Towa also finds that he is in one of the many dilapidated buildings of District A, and is in chains too. He’s alone and powerless, with no one else to turn to or call for help. 

In Fujieda’s route, Taku is held hostage as well. But it just so happens that Rei had also encountered Madarame, since he was acting on the Takasato-gumi’s orders at the time. And both are present when Towa shows up, so even though Towa still is at a disadvantage, he isn’t on his own, especially not after Fujieda tracks him down. 

The difference of the situation also shows the stark difference of the chances Madarame has in getting what he’s after. 

In his route, he’s the only one Towa interacts with, hence it’s easy for him to poke and prod Towa (by that I mean punch and pin down), and the more Towa gives in to Madarame’s provocations, the easier it is for Madarame to string him along and manipulate him. Yes, Madarame can be manipulative, and he has proven to be such. This is a fact, no matter how much we may like him.

In Fujieda’s route, however, he doesn’t have much of an opportunity to do that to Towa. He can still fan the flames, but with the other three love interests being there to protect Towa regardless of the condition they’re in, Madarame doesn’t have much freedom of movement, for lack of a better word.

You can say that the aforementioned details only point back to the part I said about Towa either having a support system or not. But besides that, what else stands  out? 

It’s whether Towa is on the way to recovery, or to regression. 

In Love with Your Wounds, Physical and Mental

It’s hinted early on that there’s a story behind Towa’s scars and it’s not just because he finds it fun. His brand of masochism doesn’t come without a reason either. When we first played the visual novel, we all anticipated at some point that it would be from something traumatic, and true enough, Fujieda’s route confirmed it as such. 

To sum up, just to make my point later much clearer, his mother allowed him to be tortured and violated and mutilated, and it resulted in his masochism, which is his means to both cope with something that he suffered (even if he cannot remember) and to gain autonomy. 

What do I mean by autonomy? As Fujieda explained (albeit with different words), all those times Towa was cut and beaten and raped, he had no control. But if he sought it out and tried to find entertainment and pleasure in it, he could then say that any violence inflicted on him was done on his own terms. 

Besides that, there’s one other thing I should point out. When Maya died, Towa’s personality changed and led him to become wilder and more volatile. A short story even confirmed that his sudden switch of demeanor happened right after Maya’s death, since before that, he was timid and well-behaved. Not to mention, it was when Towa’s personality was more turbulent in nature that he got recruited into the Takasato-gumi, which is likely when he and Madarame also met each other.

When they got to know each other more. Even if, most of the time, they ended up fighting, and I mean that in both senses of the word. 

Now, Madarame made it pretty clear that he wants Towa to be like how he remembered him. Like how he used to be when he was at the gang. Or, in other words, when Towa was at his most damaged. 

And speaking of damage, let’s bring up the shootout that resulted in Kaga’s death and the loss of one of Towa’s eyes. Towa had admitted that the experience had left him a bit more detached. This is confirmed not just in Madarame’s route, but in Taku’s route as well.  

From Madarame’s route:

Madarame: Since the day I came back to Shinkoumi, I've been watching you. You'll take a hit, but you won't fight back. You're like a worn-out punching bag. So what changed you?

Towa: ...It was that fight that made me stop caring about anything. I lost Kaga, I lost my eye, I lost you... and this is what's left.

And from Taku’s route:

Towa thought back to that day. To that shootout that cost him his right eye. 

Taku had his ruptured eyeball removed at Shinkoumi General Hospital. 

Towa personally didn’t miss it much, but the experience still had changed him on a subconscious level.

One can argue that Towa only says that he feels he had nothing left after the shootout because, by that point, he had chosen to keep his distance from Taku and Rei out of the belief that he no longer belongs with them and that only Madarame could understand him. But either way, that experience had undoubtedly affected him. 

And yet, even then, he still had friends who had his back. Even though they couldn’t really give him the proper support that he needed to fully resolve his trauma, they still could help keep him on the right track… more or less. So Towa, while not exactly doing too great, is still doing relatively better than before.

While his journey to find his past is taking a toll on him in the physical, emotional and mental sense in the true route, it is established in the Euphoria ending that what awaits him once he’s confronted the ghosts of his past is closure and recovery and self-fulfillment. 

All of which he is the farthest away from in Madarame’s route. 

The Punchline?

All this, leads up to the latter half of fourth condition, to what Madarame ultimately wants from Towa. The first three only make him interested in showing himself to Towa, and the fourth is what will determine whether he continues going after Towa. 

You may ask, why does he even want Towa even after all those years? One reason is that he loves Towa, or at least a certain version of Towa, because he feels that the most damaged and violent kind of Towa validates his own existence. 

“I love the look in your eye when you come at me again and again. You don't flinch away; you always come back begging for more. You're like me: deep down, you revel in fighting to the death, and nothing else matters to you.”

“We're perfectly compatible.”

“With you, [I’ll never get bored].”

“I’ll never get bored.”

No matter what kind of person you are, it’s almost always a given that you want at least one other person who would understand you. More often than not, that person has to be someone who mirrors you, who shares your viewpoints. And even someone like Madarame wasn’t immune to having that desire. 

In fact, his Madness ending only even happens because by being asked way too many questions, he felt that Towa had failed to become that person he wants him to be if he can’t understand him from the get-go, from just a look or a few words. And that reason was apparently more than enough to set him off and drive him over the edge. 

Though that aside, as I said before, Madarame knew he could only have the kind of Towa that he wants if Towa never comes anywhere close to resolving his trauma–which Madarame is sure to know about, even to a degree. 

No matter how he got to know about Euphoria, whether he knew it for a long time or because Eiji told him years later, he still knew about it. Anyone who knows Towa and that much about him can draw the connection between what went on in the mansion, the fact that Towa came from there, and why he was the self-destructive masochist that he is at present. Or in other words, the person Madarame knew him as. 

Yet, the brutal and tragic truth is, Madarame prefers him that way.

Based on the interactions I’ve seen on Twitter or on Discord, many of us are in agreement that whether we like the two as a pairing or not, Towa and Madarame are undoubtedly the kind of couple that are unhealthy for each other and bring out the worst of each other, but that’s also why they’re so compatible.  Even if it’s only when Towa is at his lowest and at his worst and most destructive. 

Final Decision: Abandon (Fujieda’s Route)

As such, Madarame has no interest in Towa not only if Towa can’t go back to his more aggressive self. When Madarame says “Guess you’ve changed,” a part of that sentence is kept quiet and unspoken. He actually meant to say,

“Guess you’ve changed for the better.”

Even in Fujieda’s route, Towa still gets to show that he has some bite by fighting back against Madarame. However, he fought back to protect someone else. That alone clued in Madarame on the fact that the Towa in front of him is getting further and further from the vulnerable and dangerous yet damaged goods that he remembered him being. 

With him having people to care for him, with him caring enough about people to willingly take a hit to protect them and not because he was trying to seek getting destroyed inside out, Madarame already can get the hint that Towa is, in his eyes, a lost cause.

Even in the other routes, where Towa doesn’t face his past, he’s still bound to head to a better place, both mentally and emotionally. But it’s a place Madarame would rather not be, and where he and Towa would be more incompatible. 

So, he loses interest and gives up, and thus makes his leave. Towa is no longer in his mind for another minute, neither is he given much thought by Towa anymore. 

Final Decision: Pursue (Madarame’s Route)

Of course…. none of the things above happen in Madarame’s route, where he has the opportunity to continue, chooses to continue, and thus gets the outcome he wants, without anyone to get in his way. At most, the others also end up being pawns in his game with Towa. 

In the penultimate route, Towa is completely at Madarame’s mercy. But credit where credit is due, because it’s not as if Towa immediately surrenders. In fact, he still struggles and attempts to resist. But there’s so much that even he can do against a man who is indomitable and not just because he has the strength of ten men. 

Towa knows that he cannot get a read on Madarame, which is more than enough for the man to be able to wrap him around his finger. He knows this, and thus tries his best to not fall into the other’s trap. However, Madarame knows him all too well. Or at the very least, since Madarame only focuses on a specific version of Towa, knows what makes the younger man tick. And before Towa realizes it, Madarame has already got him, hook, line, and sinker, with every beating he would inflict, and every provocation he would give. 

Towa knew Madarame was goading him. If the man would go ahead and treat him like a plaything, he could get into that. But no—he wanted Towa to voluntarily do so, to which he didn’t want to. And yet...

Deep down, Towa got a thrill out of it. He was at his limits, physically and mentally... and as a result, he had no more self-control.

Madarame was capable of giving him the pleasure he wanted. They were a perfect match. Towa’s body was well aware of this, and it found the temptation hard to refuse.

Madarame punched without hesitation. He fought to kill. And he enjoyed the violence from the bottom of his heart. Even if it resulted in his own death, he didn't care. Naturally, he didn't care if his opponent died, either. That was the kind of game he played.

His desires matched Towa’s on a fundamental level. It was impossible for Towa to not be able to relate.

Still, Towa didn't want to let him win. It was because Towa could relate that he refused to take Madarame's orders. He admitted that a long time ago, he felt comfortable in Madarame’s presence. 

But even then... too much time had passed. Towa had changed. He didn't want to be his pet. He just wanted to exist.

Even as Towa feels resentful and angry about how helpless he is, that trauma-induced masochism rooted in his being also starts to crave the pain, the violence and the humiliation because all of them are what he has been used to for a long time. 

Unlike now, he was only occasionally exposed to such things in the past. Sure, he often sought out one-night stands, but they were still nothing like Madarame’s level of ferocity. That aside, he also had Taku and Rei keeping him in check. This time, however, with Madarame, no holds are barred every time Towa would get brutalized. Whether he’s punched or penetrated, he subconsciously finds himself becoming more and more addicted to it, like a drug. 

And as some may now, this is something that can happen with abuse victims. Even after they've broken free of it, should they get subjected to that same violent treatment even for just a short amount of time, their subconscious may make them cling to it again. It’s not just a response of their survival instincts. Because, when abused enough, the victim feels that whatever it is that damaged them is all they need to have.

Even though Towa hasn’t been gone for even a quarter of a year, Madarame was able to get to him. Enough so that in a month, Towa already feels that he can’t go back anymore. That even when given the chance to leave, and twice over, he doesn’t. 

The narration may say that it’s because he no longer needed Taku and Rei. But Towa isn’t being honest with himself here. If he no longer needed them, then he should no longer care for them.

Yet when Madarame was about to beat up Rei, Towa stopped him. Even though his voice was ragged and dry and hoarse. Even though he was already so beaten that he could snap like a twig if Madarame decided to retaliate by punching him again. 

He cares for them. In truth, he knows he needs them. He does want to be with them. He just feels that he can’t. And his time with Madarame made it that every second he will be spending back with Taku and Rei would both be foreign and frightening to Towa now. So he leaves. And it’ll be easier to forget the pain of leaving them behind if he convinces himself that they no longer matter to him. Which is why, on his way back, he kept his mind focused on Madarame. And after that, he tried his best to regard Taku and Rei as no more than mere afterthoughts of a past that he (believes he) no longer needs or can return to.  

Also, in Towa’s second chance to leave, the only reason Madarame even lets him go is because he knows that Towa’s departure will be only temporary. It’s just to let Towa know and see firsthand that nothing is the same anymore. No matter how hard he tries to adjust, he will forever be a stranger in what should be a familiar land. And with Towa feeling that he needs only the hurtful treatment, any kindness and support he’ll be getting will just terrify him now. And no matter what Taku would say to him, whether he completely fessed up or decided to say quiet or not say enough, Towa would eventually cave and leave because he doesn’t feel like he can go back anymore.

It was an inevitable outcome, one that Madarame had anticipated. 

Towa walked in... and stopped short. The first thing that entered his vision was Madarame.

Just like the day Towa left, Madarame was lounging in his chair. His arms were folded, and he was smiling... almost like he had known Towa was coming.

As Towa stood there, frozen, Madarame cocked his head in a smug manner.

“Did you have a fun little adventure?” His Smoke slowly swayed. His tone suggested he had always known Towa would come back.

And he was right. He knew full well that their world wouldn't be enough for Towa.

Did he kick Towa out on purpose to make him see it?

"......!" Rage exploded inside Towa.

Until this very moment, Towa wanted nothing more than to be with Madarame again. But now that he was there, he didn't know how to feel anymore. Time and time again, Madarame’s arrogance suggested to Towa that he thought he could control me.

But what was more infuriating was that Towa walked right into the same trap every time.

Gritting his teeth, Towa charged at him. With all his strength, he swung his fist—but of course, Madarame dodged with ease before punching back.

"......!" Towa  hit the ground hard, and a moment later, Madarame had climbed on top of him.

"Get off...!" Towa  tried to push him off, but he didn't budge. 

He grinned down at Towa. "You know, it's funny—I had a feeling you'd be back any moment now." 

He grabbed Towa’s hand, brought it to his lips, and bit down on the fingers.

"......!"

"You remember now, don't you? You remember what kind of man you are."

Towa, "......"

"Is playing house with your little friends what you truly want? No? You want pain and suffering. Biting each other's jugulars and drinking the blood. That kind of thrill.”

His whisper sounded almost seductive. Towa squeezed his eye shut.

Madarame was completely right, too, which infuriated Towa all the more.

Everything Madarame just said? He wanted it. He craved it.

This entire scene said it all. Madarame is a brute, but he is no dumb brute. He can be skilled at subjugation when he wants to be, and this is one such way to bend someone’s will to his own. Does Towa still have some autonomy? Yeah. But it’s one that’s dependent on Madarame now.

All long-time BL lovers would see a similar tactic used before in another classic work. Which is that, you may ask? That would be Ai no Kusabi. For context to those who don’t know, let’s just say that in that work, the seme literally keeps the uke as a pet in a society where artificial humans have all the power and wealth while the natural-born humans are left in the dregs. Usually, pets are artificially made, but the uke is a natural-born human and is rebellious. Eventually, for various reasons, the seme lets him go back home. However, his motive is made very clear. 

Go back, Riki. Go back to the slums, stretch the weight off your wings. It's been three years. You can greet your old friends. You can even get back together with Guy.  

However… you'll certainly realize the length of three years you can't bury. And then you'll know. The weight of freedom and the thirst of your blood. 

There is no pet ring left to bind you. Go, and come back, Riki. I'll give you only one year of freedom. Go, and make certain with your eyes, with your body, that you are already a stranger there, and return.  

I… will merely wait. Until that moment in which you truly become mine. That moment.... (Translation source)

And that is not really all that different from what Madarame did with Towa. 

So, to sum up, Madarame wanted the old Towa back. So he captured him. Beat him. Dominated him with actions and words. Let him have a false sense of freedom just to let him know that he can’t be free anymore. 

He wanted to bring back Towa’s fighting spirit. But he also wanted to distance Towa from his friends. That, and ensure that Towa would be that same feisty yet fragile product of trauma of a childhood no one should ever have. Without friends, without a safe home, Towa could be turned back into how he remembered him being. 

In his route, he chose to pursue and he played the long game with Towa, a game he ultimately won. 

Immutable… Immutable Indeed

And after all this, what’s left to say is that Kabura-sensei really knew what she was doing when she titled Madarame’s story “Immutable”. 

If you look up the word online, what does it mean:

Definition: unchanging over time or unable to be changed.

Synonyms: unchangeable, fixed, set, rigid, inflexible, unyielding, unbending, etc.

At first, you realize why the chapter is named as such at how Towa noticed that even in the years that passed, Madarame had not changed one bit where his personality is concerned since the last time Towa saw him. And he would be right. 

Then you also realize that the word also describes how Madarame is someone who can dominate, but can never be dominated. Even when Towa subjects Madarame to an Interrogation, he’s never the one with an upper hand during the conversation. In the end, it’s Madarame who still gets to call the shots. But even Towa aside, there was still absolutely no one who could intimidate Madarame. 

The only one who came close to an exception was Kaga who managed to never back down in a fight with Madarame. But what’s interesting is that Kaga wasn’t like Towa. And Kaga was nothing like Madarame either. The only thing they both had in common was that they were true to themselves. But even then, Madarame still had some respect for Kaga. Even if he brushes it off as if he never cared for the man, anyone who says that someone’s death was unnecessary is already saying that they held that person in high regard. 

That aside, one would think that that was all the chapter title referred to. How Madarame had not changed at all, and how he could not be changed, or broken, nor could he be stopped if he was set on doing something. 

But in Madarame’s story, when talking about his character, the word would focus most on change. And what is easy to miss is that Madarame isn’t just someone who has never changed. He’s also someone who does not want to change. 

More accurately, he does not want things to change at all. Much like how he doesn’t want Towa to change. 

To him, time had frozen at the night when Kaga died. Everything else beyond that is nothing to him, and is no more than meaningless rabble. It’s part of why his chapter even starts with a picture of the full moon that loomed over from the sky on that same night. 

But isn’t it ironic that he acts in such a way? Especially when he’s the one who said that the past and the future do not matter, and all that’s important is the present. The here and now. Yet the Towa of the here and now is not one who he would ever acknowledge or accept. He only wants the Towa of the past. He wants to bring back what they used to have.

Thus, he ends up contradicting himself. For all his talk, he cannot move on from the past. He’s not truly living in the present, not when he wants to reclaim that part of the past. 

And if Towa is bound to move forward rather than turn back, then Madarame isn’t willing to give them a chance. I even made a poll about it before to see what you thought of the possibility of Madarame, in slightly different circumstances, deciding to give things a shot. Anything that doesn’t conform to how he would like things to be, which was how everything was back in the day, will never be of interest or import to him.  

Yet at the same time, it also shows how he truly is immutable. 

His will. His personality. His desire. It all traces back to immutability.

To constancy. Or, depending on how you view it, stagnancy. 

Because when it all comes down to it, change - of anything or anyone - is something he’s just averse to. 

Closing Remarks

I’m pretty sure that in spite of my best efforts to organize my thoughts, this post is as disoriented  as Madarame himself. 

Still, I have tried my best, and it’s already been weeks since I started making this. At this point, it’s now or never, and so I had to finalize it as best as I could and share the document publicly. But I may go back and reorganize and revise a few things once I’ve calmed down because expanding and completing this meta was a very turbulent process. 

Once again, I wish to stress that I do not hate Madarame. But I understand if some do. But no matter your opinion of him, I really hope that this meta will not invite any discourse whatsoever. 

And so, I can only hope that you’ve enjoyed reading this, no matter if you like him, dislike him, or are just plainly neutral. 

Well, that and understand everything I’ve just typed here because I still doubt that I’ve made any sense whatsoever. (•᷄- •᷅ ;)