#anyway hope you all have joined me in the trenches

[napping-sapphic]

Sick of yearning in a soft way time for yearning pvp edition where i attack the other yearners now QUICK think about your partner wearing your bracelets, couples each wearing one earring from a set, a butch with a beautiful delicate necklace that doesn’t match their outfit and a femme with the hardest chain you have ever seen, a ring that clearly isn’t someone’s size strung on a chain around their neck i’m stuck in this hell and i’m dragging you all down with me

[homo-house]

thinking it'd be really funny if alastor's mom died when he was young killed by a gunshot wound of some sort so he has a bambi past

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Hi!, I saw your requests were open, If it’s okay maybe kirari’s secret girlfriend/wife coming to the school and everyone reacting to how similar or different they are?

Not So Different

Kirari Momobami x She/Her Reader

A/N: There is something special about a character who seems nice but can actually be pretty scary. I like it. Anyway, here you go, I hope you like it! Word Count: 2,513

The student population was abuzz after the student council president, Momobami Kirari, gracefully slid out of the glossy black car she arrived in every morning, but this time, with a catch. She held her hand back out to the open car door, and to the surprise of those who cared enough to pay attention, a hand emerged to grasp it.

Another girl slid out of the leather car seat behind Kirari and even after the chauffeur closed the door and returned to his seat to drive away, the girl’s hand remained with Kirari’s as they walked towards the school gates. Though she was wearing the school’s uniform, no one recognized the girl at all. A new student perhaps? And already in the claws of the president, poor thing.

“Good morning, President!” Sayaka greeted her at the front gate as she did every morning, then with less enthusiasm and a smidge of bitterness, she greeted the other girl as well, “Good morning, (Y/n). Welcome to Hyakkaou.”

“Thank you, Sayaka. Good to see you again.” (Y/n) smiled earnestly.

Of course Sayaka seemed to know what was going on. Though Kirari had a vexing mysteriousness about her, no one was more suited, nor dedicated enough to chip her way through than Sayaka. Though even she would say she only knew the tip of the iceberg when it came to Kirari. Although she did know a lot more than the average person, including the fact that Kirari had been betrothed to (Y/n) before either of them had even been born, something about dangerous business deals and complicated Bami Clan traditions for the family head.

Until recently, it was forbidden for the arranged couple to even be seen together in public until the Honebami family had disposed of all the threats. This would be the joining of two very important and influential families after all. Many contracts and a stupid amount of money was hedging on this union.

Now with all possible usurpers and hired guns sinking to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, the couple was given more freedom to do as they pleased which Kirari promptly took advantage of by helping (Y/n) transfer to Hyakkaou.

“President, I have tea warming in the student council room should you like a cup before the morning meeting begins.”

Kirari hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head towards (Y/n), “Would you care to come for tea, my dear? At the very least it would be a good way to meet the rest of the council.”

“Sounds good to me!” Came the chipper response.

Most of the student council was already loitering about the room doing their own thing, but seeing a new face joining the President had piqued the interest of a few members.

“Ooo, who’s this, Kirari?” Runa asked around a mouthful of cherry hard candies. She had only barely glanced up before returning her eyes to the colorful screen in front of her.

“This is my fiancée, (Y/n). She will be joining us for the remainder of our last year. It would have been preferable if we could have shared more of our school days together, but such is life.”

“Better than nothing.” (Y/n) smiled, giving Kirari’s hand a quick squeeze.

“No way, fiancée?” Yumemi gasped. “When did this happen? I’ve been so out of the loop!”

“This union was predetermined by fate and the stars before we even existed.” Kirari colorfully explained, taking her seat at the front of the table, almost dragging (Y/n) down with her, but she declined to sit in Kirari’s lap. Kirari gave a low hum of disappointment.

“It was a high stakes arranged marriage.” (Y/n) corrected. “It wasn’t safe for us to be in public together until recently. For a time, the less people who knew about it, the better.”

“Oh, okay. I know a thing or two about paparazzi myself,” Yumemi flipped her hair over her shoulder, “They just gobble relationship gossip up.”

It was a little more involved than paparazzi, but neither Kirari nor (Y/n) cared enough to get into it.

“Well, it’s good to be meeting you now.” Yuriko chimed in, fidgeting a bit nervously in her seat, “Will you be joining the council?”

“Wouldn’t that be interesting.” Kirari spoke first, “Although… there aren’t any seats open, are there? Not now that I let Sumeragi in due to her father’s generous contributions. Would you give up your spot, Yuriko?”

Yuriko flinched. Why had she opened her mouth at all?! She couldn’t lose her place on the council! Her lip wobbled and she tried to speak, but fortunately, (Y/n) saved her.

“Don’t be mean, Kirari,” she gave Yuriko a reassuring look, “Don’t worry, student government isn’t my thing.”

“Oh…” Yuriko visibly relaxed in her seat, making Runa and Midari laughed.

“I’ll just come by to hang out. You guys can just pretend I’m not even here.”

“Already on it.” Kaede grumbled, clacking away at his laptop.

“Then perhaps keep your mouth closed, Manyuda. If that is truly your intent.” Kirari warned, eyeing the treasurer over the rim of her tea cup.

“Spooky, Prez!” Midari grinned, “I’ve never seen your puffy sleeves get ruffled so easily before.”

“Let’s all just simmer down.” (Y/n) took the seat between Kirari and Ririka, resting a hand on Kirari’s thigh. Kirari’s demeanor returned to normal with a single lazy blink. (Y/n) turned her attention to Ririka next.

Though Kirari had explained to her that Ririka was supposed to be the mysterious vice president until the proper time, whatever that meant, she still wanted acknowledge her soon to be sister-in-law anyway.

“Good morning.” She greeted with a quick wink.

Ririka smiled beneath her mask and gave a nod in return. Shortly after, Itsuki came running in just before the meeting was set to start. Frazzled, the girl looked for an extra chair. (Y/n) offered hers up.

“I should look around the school and find my classroom anyway.” She told Kirari, “Good luck with your schemes!”

“Schemes,” Kirari smiled, amused, “Really now?”

“Yes, schemes.” (Y/n) affirmed. She wasn’t blind to this whole house pet racket Kirari had going on, but growing up in the families that they did, she hardly batted an eye. “See you in class.”

Because of course Kirari made sure they would be in the same third year Hana class. Though Kirari would have rather her stay to help ease the boredom the meeting would surely bring, she let (Y/n) go explore.

“Are you sure you should let her just wander around? She is new…” Yuriko tentatively spoke up against her better judgment.

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be something if your girlfriend became a house pet while your back was turned?” Midari cackled and leaned back in her chair. “A nice girl like that will be sniffed out and ripped apart in no time.”

Kirari giggled resting her knuckles beneath her chin. Looking at her in just the right light, one would see a wild glint in those arctic ice eyes.

“Do you think so?” She asked.

***

“Yumeko, it was just a stupid rumor. You look like an idiot!” Mary hissed, pulling Yumeko away from the stairwell wall she was bent over, looking down for a sign of the president and her mysterious guest.

“Oh, it’s no rumor, Mary. It is one hundred percent factual that Kirari and her betrothed were recently given the green light to be in public together. It was such a big secret, that many of the family branches didn’t even know about it! Knowing Kirari, I would bet that with the restrictions lifted, she enrolled her fiancée to our school.”

“And what of it? Why do you care?” Mary crossed her arms, back stiff, annoyed that she had to follow Yumeko around all morning.

“It’s simple,” Mary swore she saw a glint of red in Yumeko’s eyes, “I want to gamble with her!”

“That’s so dumb,” Mary scoffed, but then, she reconsidered.

Actually, this could be good… If they could win a high stakes gamble against Kirari’s fiancée and make a house pet of her… that would surely get a rise out of the aloof tyrant masquerading as a student council president, right?

“You know what, count me in.”

“Yay, Mary!”

“Don’t touch me!”

“I could have sworn it was supposed to be on this floor… oh dear.”

Mary and Yumeko paused their little scuffle to stare at the girl who just passed them by. The way she checked every room placard as she walked cemented the fact that she just had to be new.

“Excuse me,” Yumeko wasted no time slipping in beside the girl, “are you lost?”

“Yes,” the girl sighed, relieved at the prospect of a helping hand, “I’m looking for the third year Hana classroom. Could you help me?”

“That’ll be easy enough,” Mary chimed in, “We’ll take you there.”

“Thank you guys so much. I’m (Y/n) by the way.”

“I’m Yumeko and this is Mary, nice to meet you!”

They shared a bit of small talk as they climbed the stairs to the third floor. When they reached the correct classroom, (Y/n) thanked them both.

“Thank you both for the escort. I’d love to give you a favor in return sometime.”

“You may be able to fill that favor in right now, actually,” Yumeko circled, finally stopping behind (Y/n) to drape her arms over her shoulders in a loose hug, “You are Kirari’s fiancée, right?”

“Yup, that’s me,” she chuckled, slipping out of Yumeko’s arms, “feels weird to get to tell people that now. Anyway, what’s the favor?”

“Mary and I want to gamble with you!”

“A gamble, with me?”

“Yes,” Mary came to stand beside Yumeko, trapping (Y/n) between them and the wall, “gambling is a big part of how this school functions. But you probably know that given whose circles you run in.” Mary tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Though (Y/n) seemed nice on the surface, she was still betrothed to Kirari who was by far the worst person Mary knew. (Y/n) could be just as deranged.

“Wow,” (Y/n) audibly exhaled, “an invitation already. Well, when in Rome, as the saying goes. Game of choice and stakes?”

“You’ll really do it?” Yumeko was practically foaming at the mouth, but (Y/n) didn’t bat an eye.

“Well, I have a favor to repay, don’t I?”

“Why don’t we take this to the library then.” Mary suggested.

(Y/n) soon found herself being ushered away from the classroom she had been searching for and into a library study room turned gambling den. Yumeko gave her an excited smile.

“Why don’t you pick the game, (Y/n). Then we may discuss the stakes…”

***

Sayaka had only left the student council room for a moment and already she had heard the most disturbing rumor. Jabami Yumeko, demon, Antichrist, what have you, had slithered up to (Y/n) like the snake she was and proposed a gamble!

Now, Sayaka’s feelings on (Y/n) had been… not so good in the past when she had first discovered the arrangement, but the girl had wormed her way into her heart, giving her the more direct praise and validation that Kirari was so stingy with. It also probably helped that she introduced Sayaka to her current therapist who in turn hooked Sayaka up with some really top tier medication.

Needless to say, the moment she heard (Y/n) and Yumeko’s name in the same sentence, she was bursting back into the student council room and falling over herself to tell Kirari.

“Really now?” Kirari rose from her chair, an easy smile spread across her blue stained lips. “This meeting can be picked up at a later date. I hope they haven’t started yet.”

“Are you going to stop them, President?” Sayaka asked hopefully.

“Oh Sayaka, of course not. I wish to observe.”

“Nyahahaha!” Runa laughed, “Alright, my interest is piqued too. Let’s see how the new girl holds against Yumeko.”

“Yumekooo!” Midari wailed, “I gotta see too!”

A majority of the council was curious and chose to follow Kirari and Sayaka through the halls, students parting like the Red Sea when they saw them coming. A frightening sight to behold. They sauntered into the library, found the correct study room, and crowded inside. Seating around the table, Yumeko had a crazed excitement about her, Mary was looking pale, and (Y/n) had her back to the new arrivals.

“Saotome is involved too? Oh, what a treat.” Kirari observed, “You couldn’t have found a better pair to test your gambling mettle against. Having fun, darling?”

(Y/n) slowly turned in her seat to look back at the invading council members and all but Kirari shuddered under her gaze and chilling smile. Apparently, (Y/n) was a pretty good match for Kirari after all. Though she seemed like a normal, easy-going girl on the surface, she could actually be quite vicious.

“Oh yeah, I’m having a great time. Yumeko and Mary put up quite a fight, but I think they are at the end of their rope.”

And sure enough, when the cards were cast to the table, (Y/n)’s were the highest possible combination, knocking both Mary and Yumeko’s out of the game.

“No…” Mary whispered, clenching her fists.

“We lost!” Yumeko’s heart was pounding, excited to hear exactly what it was she would be losing.

Before the game began, each girl had written down what they would make the others wager. Now was the moment of truth, what had (Y/n) forced Mary and Yumeko to wager.

“What have we lost, (Y/n), show us! I can’t wait another second!” Yumeko begged.

“Okayyyy,” (Y/n) peeled up a corner of the paper agonizingly slow and flipped it over. Mary and Yumeko leaned in to read, finding that they both owed… absolutely nothing. “There it is. You’re welcome. Try to mess with me like that again however, and I may not be so forgiving.”

Mary fell back against her chair, to emotionally exhausted to even feel relieved, while Yumeko slumped into her chair in disappointment.

“Well, it’s been nice meeting you, but I should to get ready for class. Kirari,” (Y/n) turned to face her, looking much more unassuming than she had a few moments ago, “walk with me?”

“Always, but let’s go somewhere more exciting.”

The couple exited the study room together, leaving everyone behind in various states of shock.

“This is where we differ most. You could have taken them for all they had and more. I don’t know exactly what Yumeko was hoping for beyond a gamble, but Mary surely wanted to take everything from you.” Kirari pondered as they walked.

“I just don’t see the appeal. I’d feel bad taking from people who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into.”

“Ah, but they should have known. You are my fiancée after all.”

“I guess you have a point.“ (Y/n) shrugged.

The couple made their way to the roof of the school and took off in Kirari’s private helicopter while rumors that the student council president and her fiancée were not as different as they initially seemed, spread. Not when it came to their gambling prowess anyway.

[blackgirlwhowrites2k23]

Heya! Can I pleaseee get a Balde one where he comes to visit you unexpectedly in your uni dorm or flat and you have to try your best to hide him 🥲🫶

Summary: “When I dialed 6-1-1, Repair Service

She said, "Hello, may I help you please?"

I told her something must be wrong with my phone

'Cause my baby wouldn't hang up on me”

You’ve been caught up with preparations for your exams and you’ve put your phone on DND. You told your parents but you forgot to tell a certain someone. 

A/N: Thank you for the requests! More Balde is on the way !!! This one's also about 2,300 words which is more than I've written for the others so enjoy!

It was nearing midnight and your dorm room was shrouded in the dim glow of a desk lamp. The air was a mix of the vanilla-scented candle you'd lit (because who said studying couldn't have a hint of vanilla-scented goodness?), the heavy weight of late-night cramming that threatened to make you fall asleep, and the unmistakable anxiety that hung thick around these times. You were buried in textbooks and notes, fully immersed in the world of exam preparation; it was like a battlefield, and each page you turned was a strategic move. Your desk was a war room, scattered with the casualties of highlighters and sticky notes. With a crucial test looming on the horizon, you had put your phone on "Do Not Disturb" mode all day in hopes of getting all your work done and fully being prepared for your upcoming finals. With your notifications silenced, the only sounds that reverberated through your dorm were the rustling of papers and the occasionally frustrated sigh that came from the depths of your soul and empty stomach.

You had made sure to inform your parents about your temporary digital escape, not wanting them to worry and assume something bad had happened–knowing them. Thoughts of a time when they'd practically filed a missing person report because you forgot to text back for a few hours came to the surface causing a soft smile to grace your features. You were glad you had people who worried about you. Speaking of people who worried about you, you had kinda forgotten to clue in a certain someone—Alejandro, your boyfriend. With a big game on the horizon for the star football player, the anticipation was probably cranking up his stress levels so you decided it best to let him be fully focused anyway. He’ll forgive you. You chuckled at the mental image of him panicking after receiving a missing person report from your parents after you two had spent the whole day together laughing and catching up.

As the clock ticked past midnight, you were in the trenches; engrossed in your notes, oblivious to the multiple missed calls and messages from Alejandro. 

Outside your door, there was a soft melody that was almost like a distant echo, barely audible at first but gradually growing louder with each passing second. The muffled thumping of heavy bass reached your ears, accompanied by a tantalizing melody that teased the edges of your memory. You definitely knew the song, but it was so muffled that you couldn’t quite catch the words. It was the kind of tune that, under normal circumstances, would have lured you out to join the invisible party or belt out whatever lyrics were being played in the hallway.

However, irritation crawled under your skin as the music continued to infiltrate your room. At first, you tried to brush it off, but the irritation morphed into a gnawing frustration, and you felt an almost growing urge to do something about it. The fantasy of storming out into the hallway to confront the culprit played out in your mind. You imagined yourself going out there and asking if they were “out of their damn mind” and to “turn that noise down” or maybe taking the polite route and requesting to turn it down, which would be a remarkable level of self-control. Or maybe doing a little bit of both.

With a sigh and a reluctant shake of your head, you decided that enough was enough. It was time to restore the peace. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the confrontation ahead. Whether through a polite request or a no-nonsense intervention, you were not going to fail this test because you were too busy turning up to your dorm neighbor’s music.

You swung the door open, ready to give a piece of your mind, only to be met with the sight of Alejandro, a mischievous grin on his face, holding a portable speaker playing the soulful tune. Confusion flickered across your face, but before you could react, he grabbed your hand, pulled you into the hallway, and began to dance and sing.

"What in the world, Alej!? Boy, do you mind explaining why you're playing music outside my door at this ungodly hour?" you asked in a sort of hushed shout as a mix of irritation and amusement was in your tone as you crossed your hands across your frame.

He grabbed your hands again and twirled you in a spontaneous dance move, still singing, "Mr. Telephone Man, there's something wrong with my line. When I dial my baby's number, I get a click every time!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected serenade, even as your irritation lingered. "Seriously, though, what are you doing here?"

He flashed you a playful smile and continued to sing, "Mr. Telephone Man, there's something wrong with my line. When I dial my baby's number, I get a click every time!"

Your confusion deepened, and you shot him a bemused look. "Be forreal, is this some kind of weird initiation prank or...?"

With a twirl and a flourish, he sang the next line, "When I dialed 6-1-1, Repair Service

She said, "Hello, may I help you please?"

I told her something must be wrong with my phone

'Cause my baby wouldn't hang up on me!"

It finally clicks. You couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or amused. "Okay, wow. You are petty."

He finally paused his impromptu performance, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just thought I'd drop by since my baby doesn’t know how to answer the phone. I thought I’d add a little musical magic to your study night and bless you with my singing skills. You know, since I’m you’re good luck charm."

“I thought I was your good luck charm,” you raised an eyebrow, caught between a sly smirk and a reluctant smile. " And I thought you had a match coming up, so I thought I’d let you focus. I didn’t want to be a bother.” 

“We’re each other’s lucky charms.” He chuckled before he placed both his arms firmly on your shoulders as his face got serious, "And you’re never a bother. Don’t let me hear you say that again or you’ll hurt my feelings, man."

You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief as you waved him off. "You could've just knocked, you know."

"But where's the fun in that?" he replied, starting to dance again. "Mr. Telephone Man, there's something wrong with my line..."

You sighed, unable to suppress a smile. "Alright, fine. You win. But let’s bring this inside. If anyone sees you making all this noise they’ll be on my head. People are trying to study."

With that, he pulled you into your dorm, the catchy tune of "Mr. Telephone Man" playing lightly and serving as a great backdrop. It was unexpected, ridiculous, and utterly Alejandro. You couldn't deny the warmth spreading through you as you joined him in the spontaneous dance, grateful for the interruption. Your initial annoyance melted away into laughter as he picked you up and twirled you around, still belting out the lyrics with an endearing off-key charm. The unexpected serenade had you in stitches, and you couldn't help but marvel at the lengths he went to surprise you.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”

He put you down and darted back outside. You stood there, a mix of emotions swirling within, wondering if he was leaving. However, to your surprise, he returned moments later, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift basket filled with snacks, comfort food, and a selection of your favorite movies.

As you peered into the gift basket, a grin spread across your face. "What's all this, babe?"

He chuckled, reaching for a snack. "Just a little something to make sure you're fueled up and relaxed for your big day. I’m also hungry though so some of these are for now."

You picked up a kisses chocolate bar and raised an eyebrow at the note attached. "Kisses for good luck?" you read aloud, a playful groan escaping your lips. "Alejandro, you're so corny."

He grinned, teasingly nudging you. "You secretly love my corniness."

You bit back a smile, holding up a Tootsie Roll with a note that read, "You'll do great, toots." "This is quite literally the corniest thing ever," you teased, groaning in affection.

He laughed, "Admit it, you love it."

You attempted to deny it with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. "Maybe a little."

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "That smile says otherwise."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't hide the affection in your gaze. "Okay, fine. Maybe a lot."

He leaned in, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "That's what I thought."

The gesture left you speechless, and your eyes glistened with tears of joy. Alejandro noticed your tears and immediately grew concerned, reaching out to wipe them away. As you explained the mix of emotions that overwhelmed you, he responded with a snort, teasingly flicking your forehead and calling you a crybaby.

The music still lightly played from the speaker, and just when you thought the night couldn't get any crazier, there was a knock on the door. Your eyes quickly went over to your digital clock that read 1:30 am. Shit. A whole 30 minutes since visitation hours ended. Panic flashed across both your faces as you hastily tried to hide Alejandro. His attempts at concealment were comical at best—behind curtains, under blankets, and even suggesting he'd hide behind the door. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his antics.

"Hurry up, Balde! Behind the door? Seriously?" you whispered, trying to keep your voice low while conveying the urgency of the situation.

He shot you a sheepish grin, "Hey, it could work!"

You rolled your eyes, "Not a chance. Get in the closet!"

The knock persisted, and you shot a quick look at Alejandro. With a dramatic flourish, he threw himself into the closet, making you cringe at the potential noise. You shushed him with wide eyes, "Quiet! We're going to get caught."

He hushed back with an exaggerated whisper, "I'm Miles Morales, silent and stealthy."

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle. "More like Alejandro Balde. Loud as hell and clumsy. Just stay quiet!"

As you tried to rearrange the room to look somewhat normal, Alejandro couldn't resist making a joke, "If they ask, you’re going to try out for the cheer team and I was helping you practice."

You shot him a glare and pressed a hand to your lips. He returned the gesture as you closed the closet door. 

The knock on the door grew more insistent, and you quickly continued to shuffle around, trying to make everything look as normal as possible. You shot one last glance at the closet, silently praying that Alejandro could keep quiet.

You quickly adjusted yourself, doing your best to look casual as you opened the door. The RA, a stern-looking figure with a perpetual fake customer service smile, squinted suspiciously.

"Everything okay in here?"

“Hey, girl. Hey.” Real smooth. You put on your best innocent smile, "Yeah, just studying and things of that nature."

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room. Her eyebrows lift in appreciation as she hears the music. "Ooh, I love this song. But, don’t keep the music up too loud it’s late."

You nodded, "Of course."

She squinted, looking at the closet. Panic bubbled up inside you as she took a step closer, and you desperately tried to divert her attention.

"So, how's your night going, girlll? Any exciting plans?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the closet.

She tilted her head, seemingly amused, "Just making my rounds, you know. Checking up on everyone. I caught some people trying to sneak people in past visitation hours so I had to do a sweep of the floor."

Your neck began to get hot as you played along. “Oh wow, who would do something like that.” 

You tried to divert her attention, but she wasn't easily swayed. With a raised eyebrow, she approached the closet, and your heart raced. As she opened the door, you closed your eyes, readying yourself for an explanation.

To your surprise, she closed the door without a word, patting you on the shoulder and bidding you goodnight. Bewilderment washed over you as you rushed over into the closet, only to find it empty. You furrowed your brow in confusion, searching around.

“You need help finding something, ma’am.”

You turned to him, a mix of relief and confusion on your face. "How did you...?"

He winked, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can turn invisible, remember?"

You chuckled softly, rolling your eyes. "You're something else, Alejandro."

He laughed, "Well, we didn't get caught, did we? Now, I can think of something else we can be doing..."

You giggled but waved to him, "Uh Uh, none of that. These walls are super thin."

He pouted, "You're no fun."

You shot him a playful glare, "Says the guy who tried to hide behind the door."

He chuckled, "Fair point. But you have to admit, I added a bit of excitement to your study night."

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Telephone Man. Let's just hope we don't get another surprise visit."

You spent the rest of the night watching movies, eating snacks, having fun, and cozying up next to someone you knew would always worry about you when you needed him to.

[sailorspica]

dare i argue...

kenny has a very interesting, consistent morality that isn't all that aberrant compared to most of AoT's main cast.

he is our main source of ackerman lore, whose fallen status within the walls directly telegraphs the position of eldia in the larger world, so on closer inspection, kenny, levi, and mikasa are more than a bit analogous to grisha and the warriors. in kenny's case, i think most of the elder jaegers. hear me out:

my ongoing beef with the uprising arc anime adaptation includes this scene with kenny's grandfather. confoundingly, WIT cut significant length from grandpa's explanation about the ackermans' persecution at the hands of the MPs, but gave kenny a line that... is ghostwritten by zeke jaeger.

in the manga, kenny discouraged kuchel from carrying levi to term for reasons he doesn't verbalize (snk 65)

in the anime (aot 43), my subtitles say "I swear, ain't no point being born in a craphole world like this where there's not a single dream worth pursuing."

the dubbed line is "who'd want to be born into this piece of shit world anyway? there isn't a dream you could have worth suffering through it."

btw i think WIT giving kenny like, 5x more lines with the word "dream" is fucking cheesy and childish; i could see how this mindset is challenged immediately by carla in bystander, but does kenny have to be the one to say it? we get that from historia and alma and ymir already! plenty of characters express thoughts of regretting being born, but this and zeke's are particular to eldians and ackermans, not individuals

but what grandpa ackerman says about this "deal" between the ackerman patriarch and the crown echoes grisha and zeke's propaganda bedtime stories. the first generation born within the walls hoped that ignorance would spare future ackermans, and eldians left behind when the walls went up hoped compliance would save them from... paradise, conscription, what have you. historical omission and revision: neither fucking worked! that ackerman patriarch died pointlessly, every eldian sacrificed to marley's imperialism from foot soldiers in the trenches to the warriors and proto-warriors, ksaver's generation and older, died pointlessly.

much like the warriors, i don't think any of the above excuses or downplays kenny's wrongdoings, but contextualizes them:

he's a serial killer

as far as we know his Ripping was mostly MPs. as of this scene in ch. 65, the latest were lurking outside a dying old man's home, whether that means they monitored the eldest living ackerman closely, or they were there to jump kenny. point is, killing cops is uhhhhh cool. i don’t care he becomes one himself later. the old 2nd wave feminist adage of “the personal is political” applies to any gender, really, and we should all take police violence against vulnerable populations personally, so whether you frame kenny’s kill count before joining the MPs as self-defense or vengeance, there’s a net positive of fewer MPs terrorizing the streets of the interior and the underground.

he abandoned and/or abused levi

my guess is without his anime-only Zekeism™, kenny’s concern before levi's birth is more specific to kuchel’s circumstances, and also informs his abandonment:

raising a child would make kuchel’s life even more difficult;

the underground and moreover a brothel are no place to raise a child;

as his reaction to levi not knowing his last name goes, living as an ackerman is a curse unto itself (the zeke and ksaver conclusion), even if kenny’s relationship with uri has improved his circumstances;

my most charitable and extracanonical thought for this man is… i wonder what happened to his and kuchel’s own parents. how else do you lose track of your sister like this? did they feel abandoned themselves? did kenny already doubt kuchel would live long or be strong enough to protect a child (maternal mortality, which fellow MP nile dawk brings up in 108)? when he said “i’m not cut out to be some kid’s father,” did he also think that of kuchel? or did he think he also failed as an older brother—kenny and kuchel as grisha and faye...

we only get kenny’s POV of his time with levi, which lasts about five pages of chapter 69. my point is, levi whump revisionism tends to give him annie leonhart's canonical childhood, for which there is no evidence in chapter 69 or in bad boy.

of course, filling the blanks of kenny's pedagogy is grim, and popular fanon isn't unreasonable at all. there's no nonviolent way to teach violence, which kenny calls "the only tool he had" and likely thought of as the only thing he could offer levi. removing levi from the underground didn't seem to cross his mind, either, which could point to a pessimism that people kill people, above and below—the ackermans were wiped out on the surface, after all. but i actually find the understanding of their relationship to the royal family as feudal in the japanese sense helpful here: would bringing him along set levi's path for him, one in service to the reisses? cruel as it was, kenny guaranteed levi's freedom.

he's a cop

okay, this is where the manga gets a little ambiguous/inconsistent with chronology. when kenny gets the anti-personnel squad, he says he’s “never been part of the military before”—he’s actually following levi’s footsteps here, a criminal recruit far outclassing these graduates of the cadet corps. however, to historia, he identifies himself as part of the first interior squad in 845. the fuck?

what is more certain is after he meets uri and becomes his bodyguard 😏, he joins this "assembly" or "council" of nobles and wallists. "bodyguard" does not sound like a role in which kenny would wander the walls doing extrajudicial murder like sannes. when levi and hange interrogate sannes, he proudly lists his own resume (snk 55), which includes killing armin’s parents, erwin’s father, and historia’s mother (the 2nd worst thing to be in the walls is blond), so besides alma, kenny doesn't seem to be included in these panels of the first interior squad "bloodying [their] hands" for peace within the walls.

i think a reasonable conclusion is kenny joined the first interior squad after uri's death in 842, and this squad is so elusive as to be legendary to the average MP. there is probably some translation subtlety with "squad" and "section, " so my understanding is the anti-personnel squad is either part of the first interior squad, or an elite, separate but affiliated group much like levi's special operations squad.

i think of kenny in these three years as unmoored much like iseyama describes levi after shiganshina; the main thing guiding him seems to be his disdain for rod reiss, since he has no hard feeling against frieda. dare i say... rod is kenuri's zeke?

besides his worry for kuchel and debatable care for levi, kenny does, actually, express some of the humanitarianism that motivates his nephew, also in chapter 65 and also excluded from the anime adaptation:

"how much WE lost in those five years?! how many precious lives?!" "he don't give two shits about any of it! not his his family, not humanity, and certainly not you, historia!!

like, HELLO? who is he referring to? the residents of wall maria? the culling that killed armin's grandfather? historia's half-siblings? hell—trost and stohess, mere months ago? i think he's being genuine! this isn't a token, empty phrase, tugging at historia's heartstrings. a killer can value life, i don't think that's that crazy a thing to propose, least of all in attack on titan and least of all in the uprising arc where levi squad kills other humans (also all cops).

kenny's narration in chapter 69 and episode 47 revolves around power. his respect for uri starts from acknowledging him as "the strongest guy around," which echoes over the moment he abandons levi—he's done his level best to teach levi to be the strongest underground, and his philosophy of proving yourself to be the strongest or most powerful doesn't belie a sense of superiority over the weak or any desire to rule; it's the logical conclusion of the oppressed. he thinks of himself as strong, but doesn't call kuchel weak, and his use of "we"—he counts himself part of humanity. his later ambition to steal the founder... makes him more similar to erwin. he just wants the knowledge, the view from up there.

but i think kenny is a little dishonest in chapter 58 before one of levi's coldest "yeah"'s of all time:

i'll kill anyone if that's what it takes to get the job done. ya kill too when it benefits ya, right?

for both men, this object "you" is not themselves as individuals, despite their posturing. it could really, really be humanity, for all three ackermans. mikasa, ten chapters prior:

there are only so many lives i can value, and i decided who those people were six years ago, so you shouldn't try to ask for my pity. because right now, i don't have time to spare, or room in my heart.

and her series-long journey is excavating her heart for humanity. the common fandom complaint that she "only cares about eren" is, to me, similarly reductive as their view of kenny. characters can lie to themselves, or reveal they're more selfless than they thought.

in conclusion:

ACAB

WIT skipped a lot of exposition to animate an extra kenny-levi fight that doesn't even make sense spatially

of course he sucks! and so do the younger ackermans! but they all suck a lot less than they think they do

kenny is also historia's uncle by marriage, in my heart

someone draw him and zeke hanging out

[bagopucks]

N. Hischier - Dearest Nico,

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Fem!reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning(s): Minor talks of blood and injury, family disagreements, and general sadness.

I wonder what keeps Nico up at night when he lays down and his brain decides to go on a rampage. Is it the spicy photos he took in his hockey pads? Or the mysterious trench coat photos?

I wrote it vague when it comes to the time this all took place. Technically, Nico joined up during Covid, but I know some prefer their media to not reflect reality. So it’s up for interpretation.

—————————————

I adjusted my apron and let out a quiet sigh. Another day in a tiny cafe. Nothing I loved, and nothing I hated.

“No rush, but we’ve got a crowd out there.” My boss came flying through the back, a tension in her tone that I’d known for as long as I had been working there. I mumbled an, ‘okay’ before I stepped through the double doors and out of the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a crowd. The breakfast rushes were always the biggest, and likewise they moved the fastest.

I retrieved the closest notebook and pen from behind the counter before I started sifting my way through people, taking drink orders and food orders. I hated this job, but it did pay the bills and college loans. Which ultimately, was what I needed.

As I made it to the back of the tiny cafe, I found my way over to a man dressed in military greens, my brow furrowed. I met a few throughout my time working in the cafe. Some kinder than others, but I’d had to admit, I had never seen one as- well.. as handsome as he was.

“Good morning, sir. What can I get for you?”

“Can I just have a Cappuccino?” His voice was soft, and his eyes seemed to wander to the floor each time after they met mine. He was shy. Or perhaps distracted.

“Of course you can.” When his eyes met mine again, I offered a smile. The man pursed his lips, his brow furrowed as well. He opened his mouth to speak, which inevitably stopped me from turning away. I gave him an encouraging nod.

“This is.. it’s an odd question but.. are you busy?”

“Do I look busy?” I teased sarcastically. The man’s eyes drifted to the rest of the cafe.

“I guess so. I’m sorry.” He looked defeated, and sad

“I get off in an hour.” My words caught him off guard, and I offered another smile. “Think you can stick around that long?”

“Absolutely.”

I winked at the man before I slipped away.

When I returned at the end of my shift, he was still there, finishing off what I had to assume was now a cold coffee.

“Come on. I’ve got a place nearby we can hang out.” I took the cup and threw it in the nearest trash can before I led the man out of the cafe. I slipped the bright blue bow out of my hair, and ran my fingers through the long strands to smooth it out.

“So,” I began as I walked over to my car. “Got a name?” The gravel crunched in the lot beneath my feet as I walked to my car. I opened my passenger side door and tossed the bow in before shutting it.

“Nico.” I looked back at him, watched as he rolled up the sleeves of his camo coveralls. He was incredibly attractive.

I was quick to inform him of my own name, before I nodded my head toward the woods just across the empty plot of land the restaurant was on. It was a place just outside of town, its location chosen by the owners to avoid large groups of tourists.

“You’re taking me out there?”

“I’m not gonna kill you, I promise.” I assured teasingly, hopeful to ease the concerns of the military man.

The grass was high in the field, but Nico seemed unbothered. He was wearing long pants anyway. And I made due with my jeans.

We walked in silence, both having questions neither really knew how to ask. We were strangers. I was only offering what I assumed to be a bit of company in a time of need.

Still, I was the first to break the silence when we reached the woods.

“So Nico,” I turned around to walk backwards in front of him. His eyes lifted from the ground at the sound of my voice. Being blessed with the sight of his pretty eyes made me smile.

“First year?”

His head tilted.

“In the service? It’s easy to tell.” Nico’s head quickly nodded in understanding as a nervous chuckle fell from his lips. “Can’t really hide it in that outfit. Either you’re a soldier or you have horrible fashion sense.” I teased, though my own giggle silenced when my heel caught on a tree root. I choked on a gasp, my arms flew forward while the rest of my body fell back.

Nico was quick to reach out and catch me, my hero, despite the slight pain in my arm when he pulled me back up. I gained my footing before I could hit his chest, but we were close anyway. He held onto my wrist, his other hand finding it’s way to my back to make sure I was steady. Then he flashed me a smile. His dimples were adorable.

“Are you okay?” He breathed out.

“You’re just gonna be a hit with the ladies, aren’t you?” I masked my embarrassment with humor as I pulled away. Nico flushed and pursed his lips, looking as though he was trying to find the words to protest before I turned around to continue walking.

“I don’t know about that.” Nico seemed both shy and humble. Or maybe he really didn’t see his own beauty.

“Come on now. You’ll be officer pretty boy in no time. Bet you’ll have superiors wishing they weren’t your superiors.” I turned my head to look at him, flashing a smirk and side stepping to bump my shoulder against his arm.

“I hope not,” Nico laughed quietly. “I just want to get in and out.. just get it over with.” I raised a brow.

“Not really a military man?”

“Not at all.” His thick brows rose as he looked down at the ground. Nico looked lost. He sounded like he grew up here, but he didn’t seem like he belonged in that uniform. And truth be told, I couldn’t see him in combat either.

We continued to walk in silence, our arms occasionally brushing and our eyes habitually finding the other’s face. I was enjoying the nature around us. Nico still seemed lost in his own world.

“My mom isn’t very happy about it.”

I slowly looked back at the man.

“She didn’t want me to do this.. made her nervous. But I can’t really come back here if I don’t. It’s required.”

That I knew. I might have been a college exchange student, but I spoke with enough locals and made enough friends to know the laws and customs and expectations of the Swiss people.

“I’m sure she’ll feel better once you’re back.”

“I hope so.. she’s just- she keeps saying she doesn’t want to hear about it. And I don’t really know what I’m supposed to write to her about.. if I can’t talk about boot camp and- well.. everything I’m going through.”

My eyes searched his fallen expression. Nothing hurt worse than an unsupportive parent.

“I don’t know,” Nico was swift to continue when I didn’t answer. “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

“It’s worth worrying if you want to write to somebody. Being away from your family and friends during a time like that can be real freaky. Especially when you don’t have fast contact like phones and electronics.”

Nico looked down at me, his expression softening with relief. He was understood. That’s all he seemed to have wanted. I wondered how long he’d been waiting for his mother to understand him.

“I know it’s not my place but.. you can always write to me. I have a pretty easy address.” I offered sheepishly. Nico pursed his lips. He considered the idea before shrugging in response. I understood if he wasn’t certain, though that didn’t change the way my heart filled with disappointment when he did shrug.

“I’ll think about it.” I nodded at his words.

“I don’t need an answer for sure until you leave.”

“In four hours?” My brow rose at the new time limit we were put on.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving so soon.”

“You didn’t ask.” Nico smirked, “we were just having normal conversation.” I glared at him and gave him a gentle shove, which I discovered moved my own body more than it did his. Quiet laughter fell from both our lips.

“Whatever,” I grumbled with lighthearted anger. “We’re almost there anyway.”

“Where?”

I spared Nico a brief glance.

“You’ll see.”

——————

“So? What do you think?”

All of his inner turmoil seemed to completely wash away at the sight. When we reached the opposite end of the woods, the trees opened up at the edges of the banks of a beautiful lake. The sun reflected in the water, and captivated the way the surface rippled in the breeze. I spared a hopeful look up at Nico.

“It’s pretty.” He answered quietly. I reached for his hand, and guided him down toward the lake, before sitting in the grass, just at the edge of the beautiful area. Nico looked down at me before he sat by my side.

“How many hours do we have left?”

“Three.”

I nodded and ran my hands through my hair, slowly kicking my flats off and rolling up my jeans. Nico watched me with curiosity in his eyes before I dipped my feet in the water. It was chilly, but perfect considering the long walk we just took.

“Three hours.. to do anything we want.” I muttered as I leaned back to lay down in the grass. “Why’d you leave home so early?”

“Just to.. I guess get away.”

“Felt trapped?”

“I’m really nervous.”

I hummed softly at his words, then slowly reached out to place a hand on his knee.

“I think you’ll be fine. It’s probably not as scary as you think.” I spoke reassuringly, but truthfully I had no clue.

“My dad said it wasn’t that bad.. but my dad was built a little better than I was.”

I looked up at him, and with the insinuation of the conversation, I felt it appropriate to look him over. His uniform wasn’t exactly helpful in accentuating his physique, but after the walk we just took, I figured he would fair better than he let on.

“You’ll be okay.” I repeated again, in a softer tone. I slipped my hand to his thigh and gave a gentle squeeze.

“A little cooling off might help.” I added after a moment of silence.

“You want to go swimming?”

“Absolutely, I do.” I smirked, slowly sitting up.

“I can’t get this wet.”

“What do you have on under it?”

“Stuff I also can’t get wet.”

“We can just hang it up to dry, yeah?”

“On what?” Nico asked through amused giggles.

“A tree branch? We have a shit-load to choose from.” I wildly gestured to the forest behind us. Nico looked back toward the trees in contemplation.

“Last chance to feel a bit of freedom before you go,” I spoke as if I was waving a piece of candy in front of his face. Nico bit his bottom lip.

“Live a little.” His eyes met mine. “Nothing to hide here. We might never even see each other again.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Nobody’s watching you.” I couldn’t understand his paranoia. It’s not like he had cameras on him 24/7. What was the issue?

“Fine.. fine.” He sighed, quickly standing up. “But only ‘cause you talked me into it.”

“I’ll take credit for that,” I shrugged, unbothered by his need to play the blame game.

“Turn around.” His words made me laugh softly, but I stood and turned away nonetheless.

“You too, pretty boy.”

“Okay.. I’m turned.”

I broke into a fit of chuckles at his terminology. I pulled my polo and jeans off quickly before I slipped down the bank and into the lake. As trustworthy as Nico seemed, I was not skinny dipping with a stranger.

I remained facing away until I was startled by a loud splash. I was swift to get myself turned in his direction, just in time to see Nico surface with soaked hair and a bright smile on his lips.

“You little shit!” I laughed out, splashing water in his direction. “You scared me!” He turned his head away to avoid all the water before reaching up to push his hair back and wipe the droplets from his eyes.

“Sorry.” It was no genuine apology. Not with those little chuckles I heard.

“This is what I get for trying to help somebody.” I muttered. His brow shot up, and I wondered if I’d hit a nerve.

“You’re really gonna be like that?”

“Maybe I am.” I would have crossed my arms over my chest if I wasn’t using them to stay afloat.

Nico’s body lunged forward at me, and I shrieked before turning my back to him and trying to swim away. I wasn’t a professional swimmer, and I knew he’d catch me. Soon enough, I felt a hand quickly wrap around my ankle.

“No!” I shouted through my own strained laughter. Nico pulled me back to him, twisting me around to face him as I tried to push against his chest.

“Now you’re not talking such a big game, huh?” Nico taunted. That wide smile still on his lips.

“Nico, let me go.” Despite my pleas to be released, I truly didn’t mind being in his arms.

“Maybe I tricked you out here so I could kill you.” He was flipping the script on me, and for a moment real fear struck my chest. My expression dropped. My laughter ceased. The serious look on his face remained.

Then I saw his lips twitch, and a laugh quickly broke from his lips. It took me a moment to realize he was joking. Then I grew a bit frustrated with myself that I’d let that fly right over my head.

“You suck!” I tried to slap his chest, finally wiggling out of his loose grip as he was still recovering from his own laughter.

I played into theatrics when I turned my head away from him, and tilted my nose up at his antics.

“Oh come on! It was funny!” Nico reached out to nudge my arm with his fingers. “Come on!”

When I side eyed him, I found myself shocked at his beauty. Caught in that perfect ray of sun. It illuminated half of his face while casting a shadow on the other half. One brown eye looking like a pool of honey while the other looked like a dark chocolate. And his hair- the way his bangs fell forward over his forehead, and hung just beside his eyes. Framed his beautiful face. And his lips-

“You can’t stay mad at me forever.” Nico tried.

“I can if I never hear from you again.” I countered. He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to write to you until you do forgive me.”

My heart began to beat twice as fast.

——————

I saw Nico off that day with a kind wave and a gift made of my bow. He clipped it onto his duffel and promised he’d keep it somewhere by his bed. He left me with one of his bracelets. A bit too big for my wrist, but I found it was easier to slip around my ankle. So that’s how I wore it.

His first letter was one informing me of the way the mailing system works. He said:

I can send up to two a week, but I’d probably only have time to write one. I’m thinking Fridays.

I had no issue with doing Fridays. I’d be able to hear about his whole week, and then I could write back that night or on Saturday when I had time. And mail it to him.

Fridays became my favorite days. If I wasn’t working, and if I didn’t have classes, I was often waiting by my mailbox to receive the long awaited letter.

The second, but first official update of his time there, was the first time I realized how nervous I was for Nico.

Hello,

Can we establish a good greeting? I hate Hello, but I didn’t know what else to put down. I thought ‘sup.’ My Buddy would definitely suggest ‘sup,’ but that seemed too informal. And I don’t even say that, to be honest. We need a good greeting. We can try some out.

How have you been? How’s work? This week hasn’t been too hard. A lot of walking and running.. and push-ups. I realized this week that I need to include more upper body in my workouts at home. I always did a lot of cardio. They let me keep my hair, too. I had to get it trimmed a bit, but they said as long as I can see, it can stay. I am happy about that.

And please don’t be mad, but there’s a bit of dirt on your bow. I came back into the barracks on Wednesday and it was on the floor with some dirt in the corner I can’t get out of it. Somebody must have bumped it or hit it on accident. I’ll keep trying to clean it though.

It was short but sweet, which seemed pretty on-brand for Nico. Shy even in his letters. I wrote him back telling him of my own week. How I got a raise and met a group of local kids my age that were pretty nice. Then I asked if he had told his sister about me, because there had been a girl in the cafe asking to see me on a day I didn’t work, and I was only curious. I told him the dirt on my bow was okay, and that I’d gotten a new one anyway to continue wearing.

The next letter that came in was a bit lengthier.

Hey,

I don’t like this one either. I’m not good at this. Maybe we should skip the greeting line. We can just get right into our weeks? If you want to keep it we can, but I really don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable. Hey is for texts.. like if I said hey, and waited for you to respond. But now I’m just saying hey, and going on.. like you don’t even get a chance to text back. I’m not making much sense.

Anyways, I wear gloves for work back in the U.S. I never really thought my hands were smooth until this week. We had all these obstacle courses to go through. It really messed them up. I have marks and bruises everywhere. And I grabbed barbed wire on accident. I got sixteen stitches in the palm of my hand. It still hurts.

I accidentally got blood on your bow. I’m really sorry. I just wanted to hold it. And now it’s got red spots from my hand. I tried to wash it, but it’s still faint in the fabric.

I think the people I’m here with really like me though. We don’t talk a lot but they’re always making jokes and super kind. If I’m honest, I do miss you. I miss my friends back at home too.

And yes, I did tell my sister about you. I just let her know who you were, and that I was writing to you too. She asked if I planned on writing to my mother, but I told her I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to. She hasn’t written to me yet. I told my sister I can’t write three letters in a week. I said I’d just write to her and my mom in the same letter. I don’t want to stop having these little back and forth’s with you.

I read this one when I got home from work in the midnight hours, underneath the warm glow of a tall lamp I had in the kitchen, with a bowl of warm oatmeal on the table. I felt bad for his hand, but I was glad to know he was making friends.

When I sat down the next day to write my own letter, I promised him that I was not particular about the greetings. I wished him luck on his recovery with his hand, and I told him I hoped it wouldn’t interfere too much with his push-ups. I assured him once again that my bow would be fine. That he was only giving it a few memories. I promised I had enough Tide sticks to hopefully get the stains out if it mattered that much. And if not he could keep it or throw it away.

I told Nico I was happy he was making friends. That they’d be shoulders to lean on when he needed it. And I especially assured him that I wouldn’t be too hurt if he dropped me to write to his mother. The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of tension amongst his family. I also told him I would be happy to meet his sister if he informed her of the days I worked and the hours, and I made sure to provide a well written example of my schedule.

What about Heyo,

Is Heyo weird? It still seems weird. I know you said you didn’t care, but now I’m hung up on it. Maybe I’ll give it a break next time.

I hope it’s not bothersome if I complain a little. I don’t want to rain on your sunny day. It’s been a really bad week though. It was hot as hell on Monday, and I got sick in the evening because of dehydration. It was my fault, but it was pretty embarrassing. On Tuesday I lost your bow. I don’t know where it went. I looked everywhere. Tore my bed apart, looked through the small dresser by my stuff. I even looked in my bags and under the bed. Nobody else knows where it went either.

I didn’t realize how much I liked to rely on it until it was gone. Now I just lay down and close my eyes. If I think real hard, I can see you in the lake. I can feel you. Sometimes it makes me tear up. I really miss you. I didn’t expect to you this much. I miss my mom too. I want to hear from her. Sometimes I feel like I just need her. Can I call you next week? Friday around five?

I felt oh so excited to see his offer to call. It seemed like he really needed it, and I missed the sound of his voice. His accent and his Swiss-English as I liked to call it. The way his ‘th’s’ sounded like F’s, and the drawl in his A’s.

I told Nico to stay strong. That I’d love to talk to him more about it if he had time when we called. But if he didn’t, then I promised he would be okay. That it was only boot camp, nothing permanent. He’d be able to see his family and his friends soon. And go back to his normal life and normal job. I also suggested he call his mother. That it may be easier for him to talk to her that way as opposed to writing letters. He seemed so close with his family, that I couldn’t imagine this tiff with his mother lasting as long as it did, but I could only assume her pulling away was a way to protect herself from the thought of her child going through something he never had before. Knowing he’d face new challenges and sustain new injuries. I wondered if she knew about his stitches.

I told Nico for what felt like the thousandth time, that the bow was not the end of the world. I told him I thought about him too, and that I hoped he would spare a minute to see me before he went wherever he did go after his time at boot camp ended.

Then I gave him my phone number and swore I’d be waiting by the phone when he called.

And I was. When the ring ran through my little Swiss home, I snatched my phone off the table and immediately picked up.

“Hey!” I was too excited to even wait for Nico to ask who I was.

“Oh thank god.” I heard relief in his tone. I raised a brow. “You’re the third person I called. Your number got smudged.. musta rained when it was delivered.”

His voice was such a relief to hear. I smiled at knowing he didn’t give up at the sight of the messy phone number. That he’d put in effort to contact me.

“It’s so great to hear from you Nico. How’d your week go?”

“I wanna hear about yours first.”

This was a change, but I welcomed it nonetheless.

“I met your sister the other day.” I began. “She’s really sweet. She said she was happy to know you were talking to someone else. She said you talk about me sometimes when you write to her too.”

“She did?” Nico sounded surprised.

“She says good things about you, I promise. She also told me you called your mom?”

“Yeah.. I did. I think we figured things out. She felt pretty bad when she heard I got hurt.”

“The hand thing?”

“No.” Nico’s tone shifted.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It’s not really important.”

“I guess.. but I hope you’re okay.”

“Nothing I haven’t been through before.”

I raised a brow. What did that even mean?

“Keep telling me about your week.”

“Well… I went out to eat the other night at this cheese and wine place. I don’t know if you’re much into either of those things but it was quiet and warm. Felt like someplace you’d like to be.”

“I don’t mind a bottle of wine here and there.”

“Maybe I’ll take you out to celebrate when you get back.” I suggested cautiously.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Just promise you’ll let me pay for the wine.”

“We’ll see.”

He coaxed me into discussing my week until I was quite literally out of things to say, then Nico told me he had to hang up because his free time was up. I felt bad for taking up so much time, but I also worried that he had asked me to do it. I hoped he wasn’t shutting down on me. Or hiding things.

The last thing he told me was, “I think I’m really starting to like you.” Before he hung up.

When the next Friday came, and I received no letter, I decided to continue to write one to him. I had new information from his sister, and I wanted to bring it up.

Dearest Nico,

Nina said you got into a fight? Nico is that the injury you were telling me about? That didn’t matter? You said you’d been in them before. How frequent is that? Where are you getting into fights? That’s not good, hun.

The pen slipped… I didn’t mean to call him ‘hun.’

I haven’t heard from you. Are you okay? I’m worried. I’m really sorry for taking up our time on the phone. If you want to call again we can. I’ll listen to you talk the whole time. I won’t even say a word. Please get back to me when you can. I worry about you.

I had to wait a whole extra week to hear from him.

I’m gonna give up on the whole greeting thing. But yeah, the injury was that. It was no big deal. Just some guys trying to rile me up. I happens. I should have kept my cool, it’s probably my fault anyway. I’m used to having a little more protection where I work. I promise it’s not a frequent occurrence, and it’s nothing to worry about. I just had a busted lip for a couple days. And I had to get a piece of my hand re-stitched from falling in gravel. I’m okay though, hun.

I got your bow back though. So I guess the fight was kinda worth it. A piece of the fabric’s ripped, from said gravel. I know you said you don’t mind, but I really hate to know I keep ruining something that’s yours. I’ll try to learn how to make you a new one when I get home. After we go out for wine and cheese. We should do desserts too. Forget dinner. It’s not important. I haven’t had sweets in forever.

I’m sorry I missed last week, I hope you can forgive me. I promise I won’t miss another week. And I’d love to call again, but I kinda had that privilege revoked after punching a guy in the face. So.. rain check on the phone call?

Oh.. and I like the way you call me dearest.

I found some comfort in knowing he was okay, but not in knowing people were giving him a hard time. What had Nico ever done to anybody? Unless he had an alter ego I didn’t know of, then there was no reason for anybody to be pushing him around. It seemed like whatever job he had was pretty rough and tumble too. So what could possibly make someone think they could harass and hurt him? And take his things? My worries melted into the subtle flutter of butterflies in my stomach at the small section of Nico’s writing near the bottom of the page. He liked the new greeting. So I decided to keep it.

Our letters continued, and Nico remained true to his word in not missing another week. He stopped talking about the other people there with him, and I found it easy to stop asking. It didn’t seem like he had as many friends as he first thought anyway, and Nico told me he started clipping my bow to the bottom hem of the shirt he wore underneath his coveralls. He said it was safer there. Our conversations began to flow much easier, and I even attached occasional photos to my letters. Some of myself with good food, backgrounds, landscapes included. I loved his little comments.

“You look beautiful there.”

“My mother makes Tarts like that.. did you get that from Nina?”

“I miss the scenery.”

“I’ll have to show you my favorite spots.”

“I can’t tell if my heart is beating fast at the sight of that sunset, or the way it lights up your eyes.”

Our greetings shifted from awkward, ‘hey’s’ to teasing, ‘hello Hun’s.’ Something we both found easier to write and make jokes about. Nico called the first week he could, and we alternated between writing letters and making phone calls as the weeks went by. Our conversations ebbed and flowed. There were weeks when he wrote his heart out, said how much he missed me repeatedly, and said he was miserable. Then there were other weeks when he told me he was finding a good routine. That he was doing well, and that he thought he’d be fine. The closer he got to the end of his time at bootcamp, the more we spoke about our upcoming night together. And the closer we got to calling it a date, until we finally agreed that’s what it would be.

Our last call before Nico came home, I was telling him about his poor bracelet. That had finally been worn through too much and the string had snapped. I told him how embarrassed I had been kneeling on the cafe floor trying to pick up all the pieces. Nico laughed and told me he knew the feeling. I asked why he wore them if they broke so easily, and he informed me it was just a style choice. And through time it became a superstition thing.

He wasn’t a crystal guy, but he did know the minerals in every bracelet, and he said he liked to buy the ones that brought good luck or good fortune, because he felt it helped his ‘game.’ I didn’t really get that. I assumed it had to do with girls.

Nico and I also got into the conversation of his homecoming on that call. He told me he planned on seeing his family first, then he’d call from his own phone and talk to me about our little wine and cheese date.

It ended up being the second day that he was home, when he called early in the morning to see if I was free that evening. He told me to dress up a bit. Something nice, but not too nice.

When he showed up on my front doorstep, looking just the same as months ago, dressed up fancy and hair slicked back. I was on top of the world. He held my bow in his hands, but I ran into his arms nonetheless.

Nico hugged over the shoulders. I didn’t know why, but he was the baby sibling. I assumed it was something he probably did from a young age. And I had no issue wrapping my arms around his torso while he tried not to squeeze the life out of my upper body. There were quiet giggles shared, huge smiles, whispers of ‘I missed you’s’ and, I even voiced my disbelief on him being in front of me again.

When I pulled away, Nico finally presented me with my old blue bow. It looked rough. It looked like what I could only assume Nico looked like on his hardest days.

“I tried really hard to get the stains out. I even sat over the sink in the laundry room one night, and scrubbed with as much detergent as I could. It’s not perfect.”

I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, ‘oh well.’

“Better compared to the state your bracelet is in.” I teased. “I have all the pieces in a jar somewhere, I just don’t know how to fix it.”

“I don’t need it back,” Nico tried.

“Yeah, but I’d like to keep wearing it.”

“Well.. then I’d like to keep your bow if you wouldn’t mind.”

I smiled from ear to ear. “I don’t mind at all.”

I reached out to gently pry the bow from Nico’s hands. I tucked it into his front pocket before my focus shifted back to his hands, turning them over to see his palms. My thumb ran over the line of healing marks from what I assumed was the barbed wire. And that gravel. When I turned them back over, his knuckles still had healing bruises, and small cuts barely noticeable. I looked back up at Nico, and examined his lip. I released his less injured hand to bring my own to his cheek. I brushed my thumb across his bottom lip. Across the cheek I knew had previously held a bruise from another incident he told me of. All the while, his eyes flickered and looked over every part of my face, admiring, searching for some kind of emotion he wasn’t certain if I was giving off or not.

“Happy to be home?” I asked as his head tilted into my hand.

“Home, sure. I’m happy.” Nico shrugged and agreed. “With you? I’m- well.. I’m feeling words I can’t even describe.”

My gaze lifted from his cheek to his eyes.

“It’s good to have you back, hun.” I whispered, affection in my tone as opposed to humor.

“It’s good to be back, dearest.” Nico responded, moving his hands to gently grasp my hips. I knew wherever we went from here, it was going to be good. And not in a physical sense. In an emotional sense. I wasn’t oblivious to my feelings, and I certainly wasn’t oblivious to Nico’s. Not when he was standing before me, professing his love in his own quiet and guarded way.

“You can stay tonight.” My offer had his brow furrowing. “At my place.” I clarified, and Nico nodded. Maybe we were moving a little fast, but it had been months since we first saw each other. Months of writing and getting to know one another.

“I’d love to. But let’s do the date first.. yeah?” I laughed softly.

“Good idea.”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[hayatheauthor]

Update Regarding My Sudden Hiatus + Author/Publishing News

Guess who's back from the dead!

Jokes aside, I truly do feel terrible for going on hiatus without saying anything, and then I come back and see that I've hit 2k (which btw is absolutely amazing and left me shell-shocked) and that just made me feel worse for leaving unannounced. So, here's everything that's been going on:

(click read more if you want to learn about my experience at my first writer's workshop & pitching to an agent ++ publishing updates for The Traitor's Throne)

If you DON'T want to read more: long story short I'm back and will revamp this blog Monday onwards.

Would you look at that I'm finally getting the hang of Tumblr etiquette!

Anyways, I know if I took the liberty of casually explaining everything we would just be here all day and I would ramble endlessly SO, I'm going to summarise everything into a list:

One of the biggest reasons for my departure was because *insert drum roll* I graduated! That's right, your girl is officially a diploma holder and ready to conquer college! Although I've seen the 'finals week or my final week' meme enough times to start questioning what I signed up for.

My writing life has been a little...disappointing. There's no other way to break it to you folks, but when I started this blog, I was knee-deep in the query trenches, and now, I'm still there. Does that suck? Yes. Am I going to give up? Absolutely not! BUT I do have some changes planned:

I've officially decided if this final shot at traditional publishing doesn't do well, I'm going to give in and self-publish The Traitor's Throne in May-June 2024. Which means you might potentially be able to purchase my baby pretty soon!

BUT I decided to give querying one last shot and actually joined a writer's workshop (which is going on as we speak btw). I joined the online Boston Writing Workshop, I'll drop a review on that on Sunday, but so far I've actually learned A LOT from it, and have decided to give querying another go while implementing what I've learned. Dw I'll also be putting out a review about the workshop on Sunday.

So, here's a summary: I've created a self-publishing deadline for my current project while also giving traditional publishing a final shot. I also joined my first ever writer's workshop this weekend and will be pitching to agents for the first time.

Overall, I think my lack of success in the querying scene kind of made me feel like a fraud when giving writing advice. I'm the type of author who does A LOT of research when I write, which is why I have so many tips on so many topics, but that doesn't make me an expert.

This workshop especially made me realise I've been making some rookie mistakes and focused so much on my story that I forgot the query and synopsis are just as important. Maybe this realisation came too late and I've lost my chance of traditionally publishing The Traitor's Throne, but I am grateful for everything it's taught me.

ANYWAYS—see what I meant by we'd be here the whole day if I didn't use a list??

Let's get back to the important stuff; yes, I will start putting out blogs again, and answering my asks. I'm also thinking of launching a beta reader project where I'll beta read some of your works for free! Stay tuned to see that announcement since it'll come soon.

Thank you so much for supporting this silly little blog of mine, and I hope you have a good weekend! As always, I'll see you on Monday! 💕✨

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! - 8th Part (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hello people, I have a very cute chapter here for you. Gave me a few butterflies writing this, so I hope it will do the same for whoever is still keeping up with this very long story. If no one is reading it that's fine, I feel accomplished just posting it. That's a lie I really want people to read this ahahah. Please read my work! Anyway this gif of Skip and Don laughing makes me so happy, look how cute they are, ugh. Also for this chapter I had to do a weird amount of research on guns and how they work cause they aren't really a thing people have where I live so I was as clueless as Emily. Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters and no hate to the men who served in WW2.

After walking for another hour we make it back to camp. I rub my chest from where I hit it when jumping into the trench, it aches, it will definitely be bruised by tomorrow. When we arrive back then men are eating their lunch, Babe runs over to join them. I sit by Gene who watches the others from the outskirts. I sigh as I sit beside him tired from the trek through the woods. Gene doesn’t even glance at me as I sit by him, holding the vacant stare that is all too common these days. He must be having a rough day, I knock my knee into his, he comes too looking over at me. Gene looks surprised by my presence. 

“I got two bandages, that's it! No scissors, no plasma, no morphine, nada!” I say exasperated. He shrugs like he knew that would be the outcome, “They say they have supplies in Bastogne.” I report what the other man said to me. Gene stays quiet. “You alright Gene?” I ask leaning forward to get into his eyeline. Still not speaking he nods his head slowly. I wave my hand in front of him.

“Huh?” Gene asks. 

“Have you had lunch?” I question the medic. He sighs, nodding his head. I get up from my spot leaving Gene in his own world, I will talk to him later but he doesn’t seem to be up to talking. I make my way over to the foxhole filled with laughing men. I plop down next to Malarkey who smiles at me moving closer to share heat. He offers me the food he has in his cup, but I shake my head turning my nose up at the food. He rolls his eyes at me. “Open!” he puts the spoonful of food next to my mouth, I clamp my mouth shut shaking my head. 

“Here comes the train! CHOO! CHOO!” Skip comes at me with his full spoon, I open my mouth as he puts the spoon in my mouth.

“MMMHH!” I exaggerate by rubbing my belly. Malarkey looks offended that I took Skips food and not his, I sigh and open my mouth. Malarkey grins feeding me his food.

“Should’ve shot Hinkle in the ass.” Babe giggles as the men chat boisterously about the encounter Babe and I had with the German soldier. 

“Hinkle nearly shot you in the ass!” I laugh elbowing Babe in the ribs as the rest of the men throw their heads back in laughter. As Babe pretends to be offended by my comment. The sounds of the men's laughter makes me feel all warm inside. I glance around at all of the men taking in their faces, trying to memorise all of their smiles. A sadness falls on my heart, will I get to go home with these people, or will they be snatched from me? I have been in this time for months, after a while I stopped looking for a portal to take me back. If I was given the opportunity would I go? Malarkey notices my smile has faded from my face as he nudges me. I look over at him as he sends me a grin. I shake my head, ridding the depressing thoughts from my mind, focussing back on the conversation. One of the soldier’s who has been cooking comes back around to top up people’s cups with more food. The boys hold out their cups as they get their refills thanking the man serving the food. I watch Malarkey sniff the food in the cup laughing as he makes a face at the food. 

“Yo, these smell like my armpits.” Malarkey remarks, I lean in to sniff the food. I giggle, they do smell like his armpits. 

“At least your armpit’s warm!” Skip says smoking next to us.

“Do you want syrup with that?” Joe the soldier handing out the food asks annoyed at the complaints.    

“Hey Joe, be honest, what’s in these things anyway, huh?” Malarkey asks while inspecting his food. 

“Nothing you won’t eat Malarkey!” Joe retorts. 

“I won’t eat Malarkey!” Skip is quick with his joke sending everyone into another fit of giggles. Malarkey and I look at each other laughing harder, his laugh is infectious. Julian makes a joke about Hinkle having Malarkey’s share, sending Babe off onto another rant about how he should’ve shot him. I shake my head laughing along with their silly banter. 

“Anybody see Lieutenant Dike?” A soldier asks as he walks past. We shake our heads unsure of where Dike has got too. God knows he isn’t here on the front with us that’s for sure. 

“Try Battalion CP, sir.” Malarkey replies to the soldier when no one else gives him an answer. 

“Try Paris.” Skip jokes quietly. 

“Try Hinkle!” Malarkey cackles, as do the rest of us. 

Penkala puts on his terrible German accent pretending to be Dike, “Hinkle, sweetie, I’m home!” He gets up from his seated position pretending to reach in for a hug with Babe. Penkala continues with his terrible accent, “Hey, Hinkle-vinkle eat the armpit, huh?”

After we finish our lunch the boys start preparing to go back onto the front. Having nothing to pack into my medical kit due to the lack of supplies, I wait for them before we all head back out.

I sit in the foxhole staring out into space, enjoying the quiet for once. 

“Emily!” I hear from behind me, I swivel to find the voice that called for me. In the snow stands a very cold looking Winters. His normally flush skin is pale and grey and his pink lips are blue. He stands with a scarf wrapped around his neck but he still shivers violently. I get to my feet making my way over to him. 

“Yes Sir?” I ask as I approach him. 

“Can you come with me?” He asks. I look over my shoulder, the men wait for me to walk with them back to the front. I give a quick hand motion letting them know to go without me. They nod and turn leaving me behind. Malarkey hangs back double checking if he should go, I nod my head, he gives me a small smile before running off to catch up with everyone else. 

“Uhhh, sure.” I say. He turns, moving away from the front. I trudge behind him, thinking about the last time we had really spoken was after the incident. After I had to tell him the horrible things that the man said to me. When I had told Winters and Nixon they had given me little reaction, sending me out of the tent shortly after to discuss what they wanted to do. I had been so busy helping Gene I hadn’t really seen them since. We finally make it back to the foxholes Winters and Nixon have been staying in while we have been in Bastogne. 

“Lew!” Winters calls the intelligence officer. The blanket from the foxhole flys off and a sleepy looking Nixon squints up at us. 

“You wanna be here for this?” Winters asks the man. He stifles his yawn as he nods climbing out of the hole. I stand watching them unsure of what is happening. Once Nixon appears to be sorted he gives Winters a nod to start with whatever they have been planning. I glance from one man to the other waiting for them to speak. 

“Emily, Nixon and I have been talking. After what happened to you we were both very concerned. Like I told you when we first met, we can't guarantee your safety or your life, but in that respect I meant more from the Germans than our own men.” Winters says in a very serious tone. I gulp. 

“Seeing that we cannot predict what our own soldiers do and that we cannot be with you all the time or have someone with you all the time either. We wanted to give you something you could protect yourself with.” Winters continues. I look over to Nixon who is just nodding along to what Dick is saying. 

“It’s a gun!” Nixon blurts, Winters sighs. “Sorry, you were really dragging that out.” Nixon says as Winters gives him the biggest side-eye. 

“It’s a pistol, an M15 to be exact.” Winters says as he pulls a gun from his back pocket handing it to me. I take the gun from him, it’s heavier than I thought it would be the black metal cold to touch. I stare at the weapon in my hand, I have never held a gun let alone fired one. 

“I don’t know how to use it.” I look at Winters feeling worried. 

“That’s no matter, I can help you.” Winters smiles at me calming my nerves, I sigh in relief. 

“Sir!” A soldier says from behind me making me jump in fright, the gun flies up out of my hands. I fumble it trying to catch the run away weapon. Finally after what seems like forever of the almost catching it dropping it game, I grip it firmly in my grasp. I peek up at Dick who is cringing at me, almost dropping the gun on the floor. I send him a sheepish grin. 

“Yes?” Winters focuses his attention back onto the man who scared the crap out of me. 

“Sir, Colonel Sink wants to go over orders.” The soldier says.

Winters nods his head as he starts to follow after the man. Winters turns as he walks, “Go get one of the men to help you on the front, they will help you work it. But don’t go around telling everyone you have that, ok?” I nod as he leaves. Nixon stands beside me, I turn looking hopeful that he will help me.

“HAHA no sweetheart, I’m an intelligence officer.” Nixon waves his hand like he is shooing away the gun. A sigh leaves my lips, Nixon chuckles, patting me on the back and directing me back to where I came from. I slip the gun into my pocket and make my way back to the front.

I jump inside the foxhole, almost landing on all of the men’s legs. “Jesus Em, you’re not an elephant, we don't need to be trampled.” Penkala exclaims when I almost step on his crown jewels trying to sit down. I give him a grin sitting between Skip and Malark. 

“So what’s the crack?” I ask in a terrible Scottish accent. The men look at me confused.

“What?” Skip asks as he scrunches up his face leaning forward. I laugh, shaking my head. 

“Nothing. Hey Malarkey can you help me with something?” I turn to face the man. 

“Sure. What is it?” Malarkey asks. 

“Ah, I need help with, um, finding medical supplies.” I lie, “Gene asked me to go to the other platoon, I need someone to come with me please.” I smile nicely, clasping my hands together to pretend like I am begging. He grins at me, his brown eyes crinkling at the sides. 

“Sure thing Em.” We climb out of the foxhole and he starts leading us in the direction of the other platoon. 

Once we are out of earshot of the other men, I tap him on the shoulder. “I lied.” He gives me a confused look. “I don’t need to get medical supplies but I do need your help.” I say quickly trying to explain the situation. I pull the gun from my pocket showing him, he glances down at my hands and then back up to me. “Winters gave it to me for protection.” I tell him. A sad look crosses his face but he covers it quickly with a sharp nod of his head. 

“What do you need help with then?” He asks. I bite my lip embarrassed to say I have no clue how to use the gun. 

“I have never had a gun or used a gun. I’m clueless, so it won’t be of any help if I don’t know how to even load the thing.” I say running my thumb over the handle of the gun. 

Malarkey chuckles tapping me on the underside of my chin. “Of course I can help you!” Malarkey takes the gun from my hand. For the next hour Malarkey shows me how the gun works. He goes slow for me, teaching me small things then letting me do it with his direction and then by myself. I listen intently as he talks taking in the small details of his face, it takes us so long because I kept getting distracted by him and not paying attention to what he was saying. With just us being together I notice the small things about him. The soft hum of his voice as he speaks so calmly. The way he takes care to go slow when he is teaching me, never getting mad or upset when I have him repeat himself. His sense of humour, the little jokes he tells me and as he watches me with content grin on his face when I laugh at his jokes. The way he stands close to me, our bodies pressing together as he talks. The way he compliments me when I do something right. My heart beats faster each passing second I am with him. I can’t fall in love with this man but he’s making it very hard. I don’t even know if he would feel the same about me, maybe he only sees us as friends.   

“So now we are ready to fire the gun.” He says as he passes it to me, snapping me from my daydream about my lips on his. “So we are going to do a dry-fire, which means shooting the gun with no ammo in it. Just so you can get used to the position you need to put yourself in, ok?” I nod my head, I empty the chamber of the gun like he taught me and pull out the rest of the magazine to ensure there are no bullets remaining in the gun. I point the gun at a tree about 20 metres away from where we stand. I hold the gun in one hand and face sideways to the gun. Malarkey laughs from behind me. 

“Who taught you that?” He chuckles, I playfully push him. 

“I don’t know. How should I stand then?” I ask, going back to my apparently bad shooting position. Malarkey steps behind me, his hands land gently on my hips guiding them to face the way I am shooting. My heart pounds in my chest at his closeness, I feel his warmth on my back as we stand flush together. His hands linger on my hips, as he leans in to talk to me, his breath tickling my ear. Goosebumps prickle on my skin from his soft touches, as I try to focus on his instructions. His fingers slide up from my hip as he runs them down my shooting arm to my hand, his other hand picking up my arm from my side to bring it to reach up and also grab the gun. My back is pressed fully into his front as his arms come around me to help with my stance. 

“Relax, bend your arms. Stand with your feet apart, have a wide stance so it can’t knock you off balance when you shoot.” My heart flutters as he murmurs in my ear. I fight the urge to lean back into his embrace.   

“That’s it.” He whispers in my ear, I look back over my shoulder finding his face close to mine. Soft breaths leave my lips as I stare at him. We hold each others intense gaze, the sound of an explosion pulls us from our moment. I clear my throat as we focus back onto the task at hand. 

“Ok line it up, you have the U looking notch at the back of the gun and then the post at the front.” Malarkey says as he helps me line up the post and notch. His hands on top of mine, helping me to steady the gun. I dry-fire. The pistol clicks in my hand as the imaginary shot is fired. I practise a few more times getting ready by myself in the stance that Malarkey taught me. 

“Ok, do you want to try one live fire?” Malarkey asks. I nod my head. He watches me load bullets into the gun, taking the safety off and then cocking the gun so that the bullet is in the chamber. I get into my stance, taking a breath, I line the shot up on the tree we had been using as our target. I squeeze the trigger, a loud bang sounds as the gun lurchers back from the force. The bullet hits the tree, I put the safety back on before celebrating. I look over at Malarkey, a surprised look on his face as I jump up and down happily. I run over to him, slipping the gun in my pocket, I take his hands in mine as we cheer, jumping up and down. I pull him into a tight hug as he laughs. I step back grinning up at him, our faces close as we pant from our celebrating. 

“Thank you Don.” I whisper, he pulls me back into his embrace, his hand comes up cupping the back of my head, “No worries Em.” He says softly into my hair. 

-----------------------------------

Chapter 9

[xxx-theartofsuicide-xxx]

ah, that is... even more disturbing. do you share nsfw content with anyone then? including minors?

and just to be clear, that is not all that happened. you have made heinous claims about him ranging from lying about his age and being a predator and being obsessed with you, and then talked shit about him having a reasonable reaction to that on your blog, and a lot of your fans(friends?) are harassing him even still. i was with you up until you started being casually transphobic. i know you think it's hurr hurr im so edgy and cool i hate everyone fuck the world, but genuinely.. I hope you find peace and grow up

imma stick around anyway. have fun finding me in your likes and on your fics ✌️

Every channel is NSFW. Everyone who joins knows what they're getting into. Sorry I'm not leaving minors behind in the trenches for disgusting predators like you to snatch up and groom for your anonymous harassment brigades.

He is lying about his age. He is obsessed with me. He is predatory in this obsession. He is predating on me by refusing to leave me alone. I told my people to leave him alone. If he gets off on sending himself anons roleplaying me, that's his kink ig.

If you ship beetlebabes, I'm sure you will still be on my fics. I'm the best lmao still waiting for one of these boring bitches to show me up.

The pedophiles in anti groups do this weird gaslighting thing you're doing rn btw. It makes my skin crawl.

Also IDC about your identity politics and never will. Misogynists hate women that refuse to lick male boot. Gonna keep refusing to lick male boot. IDC if that man has a pussy.

[harmoniouspixels]

It's Me, Hi, Making a Life Post it's Me

Manifesting once again for my infrequent life update to this blog ft. occasional sims posting! (The sims posting will come shortly I gotta shuffle through some screenshots first.)

Man, this blog really feels like an Up North cottage that I don't get around to as much these days, but can't quite let it go - the active posting era I was in prior to the pandemic definitely lead to a creative burnout I still am recovering from, but I suppose that it's still the hardest with the sims given that it was such a mainstay. I know it's a touch odd to continue to reflect on that point when I do pop in, but in a way it's cathartic? Especially as I'm slowly but surely rediscovering the game again for the fun it brought me prior to joining simblr, and I want to recapture that feeling when I play. (Of course I've got elaborate storylines still, but it's much easier to keep them contained to just myself without drafting or creating dialogue for a queue.)

On a personal note, for those keeping score at home, I finished my masters this summer! That's part of the reason why after getting the Crystal Valley queue going I dropped of the face of the earth again. I was in the trenches writing my 52 page thesis. Tack on having our Dean of Students, who was previously a lawyer mind you, as my professor meant I needed to constantly proofread and add research. However, after completing it with an A- (thank the Lord and everything holy for that) not having homework for the past two months for the first time in seemingly my entire life has been freeing. I've also been on the job hunt to move into a similar position at a new institution making more money... but unfortunately I'm stuck in the first round of interviews I've gotten. (Silver lining is I'm actually getting interviews instead of being completely ghosted.)

Also, I've deleted my Twitter accounts across the board and that was such a freeing move. I hate that how Muskrat has gotten it into the state it's in, but unless someone were to take over and have a conscience that's one major dumpster fire I needed to get out of.

Toss on the rollercoaster the 2024 election has been things have been crazy. (I guess the craziest part to me outside of the presidential race is that my lifelong Republican parents voted a straight ticket for the Democratic Party for the first time in this election and that still has me shook, but I'm incredibly thankful they never bought into the crazy and are sticking up for the country over party loyalty.)

Anyway, long time no see! I hope you're all doing well to the best of your ability.

[clockwork-sparrow]

Tales from the Frost

Stories following the conclusion of the RP Arc, TOWER.

Stories: 1 2 [3] 4

Dear Zelimir

Dear Zelimir,

We’re coming. Sorry it took almost three decades. Life’s stranger than fiction nowadays and there’s a lot for us to catch up on. Like how I ended up traveling with your murderer to find your resting place, for starters.

Civil war burned Garlemald to cinders, but we survived. Something incomprehensible possessed the world and turned the sky red, but we survived that, too. You always said I was tenacious, but I don’t think you meant it’d be enough to weather two apocalypses.

Somewhere in the middle, we (the Tappers. Sofi misses you too, you know) stumbled on a weird town of magitek, complete with a freaky Overseer, robot farmers, and who knows what else. Was just us at first. Bunch of Garleans joined later. Some of them were the sorriest looking bastards I’d ever seen but some of them were just bastards, so much so that they tried to reestablish Garlemald, shackles and all.

Zelimir, I think you’d be proud to hear that we’re living side by side with many of these bastards now. You shouldn’t be, though. If the Final Days didn’t happen, we’d still be at each other's throats, but we (all of us) lived through some very horrific things. Didn’t know if the next day would be our last, didn’t have the spoons to care about fucking beans when literal depression monsters were hunting us down. Stranger than fiction, again.

I knew Marcellus killed you. I thought about it every day. I thought about it when I led our ragtag band of soldiers to defend our freaky magitek home against even freakier blasphemies, and I threw him into less than favorable fights because of it. You know me. I would’ve killed all the bastards if I had the chance, but...things happened. Hands were tied at the time. I’m bitter about you though, so I had hoped, and figured if he died in combat, well. That’s just war. But being in the trenches changes a man so, yes. He killed you, but he saved me too. Saved Sofi. We saved each other so that we could live another day like cockroaches. That was our new normal, insanity and violence and all.

The Final Days eventually ended, after more wars, more kidnappings, and more shit that flew straight over my head. Giant...spaceship at one point. Man. I don’t even know. Sometimes I want to believe it was all collective madness, but then, I’ll wake up and the signs will still be there. I half expect the skies to turn red again honestly. Peace feels like it could be taken away at any second.

Anyway, Marcellus confessed. Almost three decades later, when there’s practically nothing left of you except for memories, he confessed. Said you didn’t crack and reveal any of the other members of the underground. I hated hearing about it but it’s closure, still. And your body is long rotten and lost, your records wiped and destroyed, but we’re coming anyway, to the place you passed away. So I can say goodbye and Marcellus can...apologize.

You shouldn’t forgive him. He’s an ass. Terrible pokerface, awful taste in beer, his mustache sucks. Thinnest hair I’ve seen on a lip. I haven’t forgiven him and neither should you, but he’s trying, and he needs to live with this. No amount of justice will bring you back, so I guess I’m settling for second best.

These days, I’m restless wondering if this is enough. If this peace is enough, if evil got punished enough, if they’re repentant enough, if I’ll ever be satisfied. There are holes in me where you fit. Where all the good Tappers who died under the Empire fit. Is it fair that your murderer lives? Is it fair that he has a second chance? I don’t think so, but now, he’s a part of me too. There’s a hole where Marcellus would leave, too, and the trenches change a man. They leave you riddled with bullet holes.

I know you had hopes for me and I’ve always tried to live up to them but, Zelimir, maybe the reason I lived and you didn’t is because I’m not good. I want people to suffer as I have. I would’ve executed someone I now care about and been none the wiser. My pain, our pain. It’ll be forgotten one day...maybe recorded in words, but the distance will grow. One day, there won’t be anyone left that knows you personally. Is this a good thing? Is this just the way life is? That we live, just to be forgotten?

I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me.

Sincerely,

Vanya Kvetasch

[its-all-papaya]

From the anon who sent the Nortrell ask- that was literally perfect, I honestly just love reading your thoughts on them so much.

I love the idea that everyone at McLaren just casually knows of their existence. I can’t imagine the first time Lando walked into the MTC or the garage at a race and everyone just goes “ah lando and Emma!” And landos just there like- 🧍‍♂️

Also I love that you put Singapore as one of your top moments. That was such a good weekend and they seemed so strong throughout every session it was beautiful.

And Miami 😭 as a LONG time Lando Norris fan I was near tears watching that finish. You could feel the euphoria and the relief. Watching the team celebrate and lifting lando up. He really is their boy isn’t he? (And ngl I absolutely see Oscar becoming just like this to the team in years to come) I don’t think I’ll ever forget that race.

Anyways sorry for all my yapping, hope your having a lovely day

i love thinking about them so much!!! like if you're meeting lando through the lens of max fewtrell, how could you not be fond of him? maxf just like oozes love and care (and exasperation) for lando. expanding on this, canonically lando and emma have only been around mclaren properly twice by fic time (silverstone the two previous summers), and it was probably busy enough / he was probably mainly around daniel and the garages and people who it made sense to him would know of his existence. but when lando starts like... traveling for races for oscar (with emma) and is more casually around in both of the drivers' spaces, i'm imagining employees/engineers/whoever being like "oh, lando, didn't know you got along with oscar too!" and lando is like. wait. pause. several things. but first... who even are you? silly silly. my favorite thoughts to ruminate on are thoughts of lando and emma hanging out around hospitality being in love with oscar and loving max and being so, so, so loved in return. WAG lando my beloved!!!!

anyway, now i've yapped in return. singapore was a delight and miami was still very very very cool to me, like the joy was so so bright and palpable. i have a habit of picking up long-suffering teams/athletes that have fanbases who have been in hell for years, and then immediately after i join, they win, and i'm like... well. i don't deserve to celebrate this like the rest of you. i did not suffer for it. i did not earn it. and that's kind of how miami feels to me LMAO like yay lando!! but also i was simply not in the trenches like the day-ones.

never apologize for asks shhhhh i love talking to y'all.

[cloud-spotted]

NEW AND IMPROVED ship opinions

now that hazbin is out and ive had a while to digest, here r my NEW ship opinions (now with explanations!)

OTP: chaggie. they literally r both powerful and love eachother a lot,, they r a power couple. the contrast between charlie's whimsy and vaggie's jadedness is awesome too.

main ships: lucifer x alastor, and i love all the canon ships except lucililith

FRIENDships: alastor + tom trench (they r both fruity, they both say the news, they both probably drink liquor and black coffee unironically, what more do you want me to say? they have so much in common /silly), niffty + sir pentious (they r insane together. niffty would help clean while sir pentious focuses so hard on work that he becomes a shut-in. relatable king. and yet sir pent seems like the type to appreciate niffty's odd creativeness. he seems like the type who would help her organise and create machines to help her with her tasks and also make sure she doesnt work too much because he doesnt want her to be like him. checks and balances yknow)

partners in crime: alastor + vox (i dont need to elaborate if youve seen the show), rosie + alastor (canon), charlie + alastor (powerful 1 and powerful 2 wreck shit after alastor convinces her shes too optimistic.. like perfect corruption arc complete with chaggie angst where vaggie joins the dark side too and OH man lucifer realises that maybe he shouldve encouraged charlies optimism more. what potential. i love thinking about it. it would be awesome.)… everyone + alastor… carmilla + vaggie (watch their musical number again. thats my only defence)

crack ships: vox x katie killjoy (ITS SO SILLY), alastor x sir pentious (LIKE VOX X ALASTOR EXCEPT WAYYY SILLIER)

ships i support idly: angel x alastor, husk x alastor, niffty x baxter (no opinions. i have no qualms with the ships. theyre cute /shrug)

hell no: lucifer x lilith (i dONT CARE THAT ITS CANON RAHH), angel x women, katie killjoy x tom trench (katie would NOT treat him right. tom deserves better smh!! theyd be a toxic couple who both have problems n feed off eachothers negative energy. itd be gross bro im so serious. itd be GNARLY)

stay single: valentino (unless u AU him to be Not a rapist)

fics that make alastor alloromantic are things i enjoy consuming but when they pull out the "you were the one! he found the one, guys!" im like :upside_down face: so i hope its known that while theres more than one ship of alastor x someone in here, i still accept that hes canonically ace B) the ships with angel x women i just cant stand though cus every single time the person aking the fic has some homophobic ass excuse. why cant they just say "this is an AU where hes bi" or something!! anyways thats my cold take. just call it an AU. thats what a lot of the ones making alastor alloromantic do. if u know of any angel x women fics where its specified that him being bi is an alteration theyve made to his character, then lmk

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Lust Conquers All: A Holiday Romcom (Jamie Tartt x Reader) Part 1

       “Y/N, I need you to cover the Diwata sports line in London.”

        Never have more shocking and exciting news been uttered by my boss. Ever since my sophomore year of high school, I’ve been dying to study abroad in Europe. Unfortunately it never came into fruition, with living expenses being a thing to consider.

        “I thought Jana was going,” I say in shock.

        “Jana needs to handle the clothing line’s main launch in New York. You’ll be there about a month or so. I hope you don’t mind spending the holidays there if you have to.”

        “Yeah, no, for sure,” I say. I usually spend Christmas alone anyway, in front of a Netflix Christmas romcom. Year by year they were getting worse. More soulless. More going through the motions. But ever since I adopted my son Tristan I haven’t been so lonely. Especially since he has friends over a lot. He’s introduced me to a lot of new things, such as Naruto, “cracked” being a compliment, and hilarious kids’ graphic novels.

        Any normal 24-year-old would probably feel constrained by the responsibilities of having a 10 year old son, but I want to use my newfound wealth to provide for someone that I love, and give him a good life. Our house has a pool in the backyard like I’ve always wanted for myself, and come fall it will have a trampoline. It has not one but TWO cushy basements for playdates. And the kitchen has- get this- an island. I know!!! Only rich people have islands, and whenever he does his homework at it, I know how grateful he is.

        My wonderful son has jet black hair with a constantly shifting top layer, color-wise- right now it’s platinum but he’s been wanting purple since Halloween. He has a heart-shaped face, perceptive brown eyes, and the sweetest angel smile. I only had to experience his energy and zest for life, as well as the taste of a picky book critic with good taste, to know that I would be a great parent for him. We’re very attuned to each other’s feelings, so I let him delay homework for fifteen minutes to think by himself after an upsetting day because he needs it, and he tries his best not to use sarcasm with me unless I can tell. And even though he has beautiful tanned Mediterranean skin from being half- Italian, he has not one drop of Filipino blood.

        Is it awkward when people don’t immediately think we’re related? Kinda. I always wear my Hermes Birkin, my Cartier jewelry, my pink lace Burberry trench when I take him to the Asian grocery store or to the trampoline park with his friends. It keeps people guessing. It might not scream, “this kid that looks nothing like me is my son!!!” but it does scream, “I’m not this kid’s nanny cause I can afford all these! At the same time!!!”

                                                       ~

        “It’s okay,” Tristan says after I break the London news to him. He helps chop vegetables I hope he’ll eat for dinner.

        “Really?” I ask. “But you’ve been practicing for your band concert for months…”

        “Yeah, but this is ENGLAND,” he points out. “Can we see a Manchester United game?” He slides the cutting board over to me, and I slide them into the soup.

        “Maybe during the weekend,” I say. “People go to France during weekends too. So it’s definitely possible.”

        “Jeremy’s going to miss me,” he declares. “I’m his best friend and he’s never hung out with the guys without me.”

        “You should make sure they bond more before you go,” I suggest. “Invite them over for We Were Never Really Strangers: Kids Edition.”

        “We do like card games,” he muses thoughtfully. “We were playing mini Uno the other day and half the window side joined until we had to go to lunch.”

        “There you go,” I say. “I’ll be working with a soccer team for the campaign- maybe you know them…UFC Richmond?”

        He shrugs. “I guess. Man U’s still my favorite, though.”

                                                                ~

        Plane rides always gave me this feeling of purpose- of life moving ahead, because you were going somewhere. After this trip, I would be one step closer to being promoted to CMO. Then my son and I can live even more lavishly, and I can take him and one friend (he’ll probably pick Jeremy) to Bora Bora, possibly with an au pair, so I can also have relaxing spa days, sun worship in ray warmed water, and go to karaoke, and I know they’ll be safe.

        As Tristan snoozes comfortably in his cushy first class seat next to mine, I flip through one of the London travel magazines to rest my eyes from Sense and Sensibility with Dakota Johnson- I love the blonde and people should have more respect for her feelings- her sister????) There’s a photo of Big Ben towering in the evening sky, surrounded by twinkling city lights. I wonder if you can see London from up in the sky like you could see New York.

        On the next page, there’s an ad featuring a manspreading guy against a white background that I’m pretty sure is fully naked, except for a gigantic champagne bottle covering his crotch area. The liquid from the bottle fizzes out, covering the surrounding areas too, so I can only see from very well-cut abs up and toned thighs down.

        Damn. I knew France was mega-horny about ads sometimes- a lot of the time- but England? I’d always thought they were more on the conservative side. Mostly from teen romcoms in which the wild, free-spirited, quirky American girl sticks out in…government functions and/or a strict boarding school. Maybe I should update my references. Sex Education literally had a vagina musical. I watched it after my son went to sleep, along with every other steamy show I like.

        And speaking of steam...I can’t remember the last time I flirted with a hot guy. Maybe this month I’ll meet someone and have a holiday fling…I shake off the thought. I’ll be too busy running a marketing campaign, not to mention getting my kid adjusted to a whole new country. Speaking of which, if London has a Filipinotown or Little Manila, I’m so taking him. Wouldn’t it be so cool to have these castle-like structures have our flag or our words or Baybain on the awnings?

        I study the picture again. Or it could be a good place for a date. I probably won’t meet a guy like this. He’s probably a male model or something. My agency really wants the players themselves to model for authenticity and…ethos. This guy has a slit in his right eyebrow that I could take or leave, and eyes that look not traditionally seductive. Though he’s splayed naked, the look in his eyes is brash, challenging, aggressive. As if he dares you to come for him (in more ways than one.)

        Yeah, I could really use some hot, no strings attached sex. I don’t think my personality will morph into one where I’m comfortable chatting up strangers in clubs (surrounded by people they already know) but maybe I’ll have one of those meet cutes I always see in romcoms. Maybe I’ll ask people at the London office about cool, non-touristy places to go. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the ad. I take a pic of it on my phone. Maybe my coworkers used him in their ads too and can do so again this month, and I can “randomly” stop by.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Absolutely love your writing and the fun escape it brings! I’d love to know Lenny’s thoughts immediately following his exit from the Carnegie Hall stage after his conversation with Midge.

(Thank you!)

When he gets back to the little backstage area, the people he knows have left, thinking he'd spend the rest of his night with Midge, and in a perfect world...well...yeah.

But as it is, he's faced with a sea of people he doesn't really know, and the only thing he can think to do is grab his trench coat and get the fuck out.

There's a part of his brain that thinks he should find her. Apologize for being harsh. Really talk to her, but there's a bigger part of his brain that knows he's right about this. That knows she's being an asshole about her career. Turning down Tony fucking Bennett, Jesus to Jesus and eight hands around, who the fuck does that?

Midge, apparently.

As he steps out into the bluster of the snowstorm, he feels his hands start to shake a little, and he can't tell if he's cold or jonesing, his senses are so mixed up. He's been clean for a couple days. Trying to make sure he's clear-headed and sharp for the Carnegie people.

He makes it to the closest late-night diner, and realizes quickly, pleasantly, in the warmth of the little restaurant, that he's not jonesing. It really is just cold, and mixing that with the adrenaline of performing and then arguing makes for some odd bodily responses. Though he knows he'll probably need a fix sooner or later.

He snags a booth, orders coffee and ponders the pie selection, weighing the pros and cons of pecan versus apple, when the diner door opens, and he sees a familiar head of brown hair, and hears the familiar clack of high heels, except they slip a little on the tile floor.

His options are:

Sink down into his booth and hope she doesn't notice him.

Sit up a little taller and wave her over.

Do nothing.

He options for three, going back to reading the menu, acknowledging that he doesn't have the best luck with women (or life). and that she'll probably ream him out for reaming her out, and he's just not in the mood.

Midge walks right past him, without even noticing him, limping from a broken heel that she's carrying, taking a booth diagonal to his, and contemplating the broken heel of her shoe (and also probably her life choices) silently.

She looks miserable, and he hates that. He thinks she's made some really dumb, shitty mistakes, but he in no way thinks she deserves to look this unhappy.

Lenny takes a breath and puts his menu down. "I don't think your broken heel is going to make a very good therapist," he tries.

"Is that what I need?" Midge asks, looking over at him.

He shrugs. "Maybe we all do. Me, certainly."

She huffs and sets the heel down. "I didn't see you when I walked in."

"I know."

"You probably don't really want to talk to me right now anyways," she adds.

He shrugs. "Just because I think you made a huge fucking mistake doesn't mean I don't..."

Don't what? he wonders as his voice trails off. Still like her? Love her?

Fuck. There's a notion that she doesn't need to hear right now.

"Can I come sit?" he asks, and she gestures for him to join her. He gets up, looks from the empty side of the booth to Midge, and decides to make her scoot over.

"What are you doing?" she asks, puzzled as she scoots in.

"I was having trouble deciding on pie," he explains, lifting to menu. "It's easier to get your opinion if we can both see the choices."

"God, pie does sound good," she sighs. She hesitates for a moment, but then gently lets her chin rest on his shoulder to read the menu with him. "Something they can warm up."

"Which rules out meringues, key lime, and anything else egg-based," Lenny says as the waitress sets down two cups of coffee for them.

Midge grabs hers, eagerly pouring in some cream and taking a sip.

Lenny absently pours some sugar into his own as he keeps reading. "Which leave fruit-based."

"Which, really, are the superior pies," Midge tells him.

He thinks about that. "I really like pecan."

"It's so sticky," Midge complains. "And almost always too sweet. You can't even finish a slice."

"It's easier with two people, sure," Lenny comments.

"Cherry is my favorite," she says. "With apple and peach in close second and third."

"Oh, I hadn't even thought of cherry," Lenny ponders. "I wish it wasn't so fucking cold, ice cream would be great on top."

"What's your favorite?" Midge asks, tilting her head at him.

"Who knows?" he shrugs.

"Come on, tell me," Midge presses. "I'm going to take your advise and get my head out of my ass and start taking real gigs again. The least you can do is fess up to your favorite pie."

He blows out a breath. "When you put it that way...strawberry rhubarb. But it's outta season."

She smiles. "I never would have guessed that."

"I remain an enigma," he jokes lightly as the waitress comes back over. "Cherry pie, please, warmed up, two forks."

[certified-anakinfucker]

2,4,8,9,14,16,20,27,32,41 for Darrash

ren i hope you know it took me this entire time to finish yours specifically. and i fucking love you for it oh my god

pinging @nealev-legacy because it should be posted there and i still dont want to post it there. yeehaw. i am not putting this under the cut. look at my boy. i love him

2 — Give them a warm drink of your choice, what would it be? Would their choice differ from yours? ✎ Can soup be a warm drink? He’ll take a nice warm soup in a thermos, space tomato-based or maybe like.. space chicken noodle. Honestly I’m more of a hot cocoa + Bailey’s type these days (he’d drink that too if it was offered.. but I’m not sharing w him because he’d drink it all)

4 — What is the thing they like the most about their friends and what is the thing their friends like the most about them? ✎ It depends on what friends you’re talking about.

|| His friends from Intelligence:

⊹ Teque’evira’zure (Fixer 65) — Darrash deeply admires Evira’s frankness and pragmatism in the light of numerous looming, dooming, and straight-up glooming emergencies. Evira can’t ever get enough of how Darrash is so unapologetic about the way he views the galaxy - somehow so closed, yet so understanding of it all.

⊹ Mart’adasha’zoani (Unknown Cipher) — Darrash thinks that Adasha is just a genuine prick. He loves it. And Adasha never denies it, until he gets sent out in the trenches (probably Quesh) and comes back to realize .. yeah that’s why Darrash acts like that. He gets it now. Massive respect.

⊹ Sark’anin’loski (Fixer 40-90) — Darrash thinks that Kaninl is just there sometimes. He looks really out of it.. he’s usually just floating through briefings and other meetings and lectures, but he is still a fully trained and capable Cipher who has more than proven his worth - just look at the mountain of accolades behind him. Kaninl thinks it’s funny that Darrash always looks so wound up even at rest (he scrunches his face in his sleep!) and will do his best to comfort the little Human.

⊹ Ilev’ari’do (Unknown Cipher) (@puirell) — Without condemning nor condoning, they understand one another.

⊹ Uvotau (Cipher 16) — Darrash feels bad for snatching the valedictorian spot from her so close to their graduation. Uvotau is happy that she lost it because she wouldn’t have made it through .. all of that.

⊹ Thulnias Oeth (Minder 85-10) — Darrash hoped there were no hard feelings regarding how he had to practically kidnap her, hogtie her, then stuck her in a crate to mail to her father Falner as a warning. Thulnias didn’t take it personally at all and, once she heard what her father had done, understands that she would have done the same thing. She’s mostly grateful that Darrash didn’t choose to outright assassinate her and THEN mail her to her father.

|| His friends from technically outside Intelligence:

⊹ Tika Kiza — Oh wow! Darrash’s first love, and the person who planted that seed of promise in his mind that there will always be another way. Darrash admired her endless optimism, even if she was sometimes desperate to see the brighter side and greener grass in somewhere as roiling as Nar Shaddaa. Tika sees how Darrash is always more than willing to throw himself into the line of fire for his loved ones; he’s done so twice for her, and knows he’s done it for others.

⊹ Eckard Lokin — Technically not a friend, but more of like Darrash’s third father (first being his biological, then Tylado I mean Watcher 17 I mean Keeper I mean Minister, and Eckard being Minister’s husband……..) - Lokin sees that dogged “I won’t give up” mentality Darrash has as both a blessing and a curse under threat of literal tranquilizers. Darrash thinks that Lokin is insane, but is also one of the most sane people he’s met in that profession anyway! It’s a win-win!

⊹ Vector Hyllus — VECTOR. THE HUSBAND. THE DARLING. Vector’s loved before. He’s also changed as a person; it wasn’t because of his Joining that he fell out of love with Anora, but even before then - that’s why he cut it off. But Vector fell in love again! With Darrash’s dedication to a promise, to diplomacy, and to genuinely trying his best. Even when deathly ill, when losing touch with himself, he did not succumb to urge. On the same hand, Darrash fell in love with Vector at first sight.. but spending more time with the Joiner and learning who he was - who he is. 

⊹ Raina Temple — This is Darrash’s baby sister now, just as much as his protégé. They bonded quickly with Darrash finding a void to fill I mean new friend. Raina looked up to him as a mentor first, then as a brother she never had - in the way he didn’t use the book but instead went AROUND the book. He taught her from his experience instead of the booksmarts. They’ve just got such a deep, unspoken sibling trust between them forged in the possible year-and-some-change they were even able to spend together.

⊹ Chance + Saber — The other two operatives he met while working with the SIS cell, and the two he tried his best to spare after his hand being forced in the suicide of Ardun Kothe. The both of them he views as more of his little siblings, ones to tuck under his arms and protect as best he can. In their eyes, Darrash is still the most intriguing agent they’ve ever met. They figured he was probably serious about defecting, and even Chance brought it up more than once, but when they saw him return to the Empire.. they could hold some veritable credit that Darrash really was trying to make the place a little better from the inside. || And his childhood friends: ⊹ Milknose + Dewdrop — Two Evocii that were apart of Darrash’s little childhood gang, most skilled in keeping eyes and ears out for any new drop boxes in the marshes. Where they admired Darrash’s will to even go out there and find them let alone break into them, Darrash admired them for the fact that they still stayed awake at night on longer operations, making sure that everyone came home safe and refusing to rest until.⊹ Chyvuri + Cromyn Lhilan — These are two Togorians (tabby tiger!) that were in the small gang. Both are older than Darrash. Chyvuri was probably the biggest culprit of babying him for his entire stay, given he wasn’t much older than her little runt brother Cromyn. Cromyn was only enabling this because, despite still being much larger than Darrash, he still stole in on the snuggles. They both became dear protectors in Darrash’s eyes, because no matter what happened .. at least one of them was always by his side in a flash to offer any help they could. Usually just brawn.⊹ Wlish’votho’blanor — Did you mean: Darrash’s baby brother? Because you’d be right. Hvotho’s earliest memories are full of Darrash’s voice and warm smile and gentle embrace, his humming. He carried those memories on his uh. unwilling journey across the galaxy before finally finding some peace. Darrash naturally just biases him because he was the one making and giving Hvotho his bottle, considering they’d found him as an abandoned orphan out in the wet nasty. (And there are a handful more I haven’t fully dev’d! But they love their lil guy!)

8 — What is a smell that makes them feel at home? ✎ Darrash will visibly melt in real time if he smells a good homemade stew on the fire. Hardly matters what’s in it, but something about the heat, the smell of meat simmering in the broth, how he feels simultaneously starving and already full..

9 — How would they react if a person they love (friends and family included) gave them a flower bouquet unexpectedly? ✎ If from his husband, Vector, he will actually start crying. His handful of friends close enough, it’s a tad questionable between their motives - in some cases he would immediately suspect that there is some cataclysmic event either going on or imminent; in other cases he will assume the flowers are poisoned and quietly set them down. (That last one is just Varido.)

14 — Quickly, let them give us some life advice! ✎ “When in doubt, murder is - in fact - not always the best option. Maybe copious amounts of bodily harm, but sometimes they’re more useful alive.

What I mean to say is, don’t always go for the easy and most immediately-gratifying option. Sometimes the best way is the way you dread most.”

16 — What was the happiest moment of their life? ✎ Darrash was about five years old. His mother came home late in the evening with a small bag containing leftovers from dinner service - Darrash had been waiting by the door for her to come back. (Masjona wasn’t coming home with her that day, he was overnighting at the palace. Johkel was with him.) He wasn’t afraid of being home alone but he did miss her to the point of breaking into tears when the door slid open, running straight into her hip and clinging to her as tight as he could. She sat him down in her lap and held him for a few moments before reaching out for a comb to clean up his hair, putting it in a neat bun before she kissed his forehead. Danwya made sure he knew that she loved him very dearly, no matter what, no matter what.

20 — What is their hidden talent? Is that a skill they’ve been practicing since childhood or just something they happen to know and never had the chance to show? Besides, was it something forced upon them, taught by someone close, or they picked it up themselves? ✎ A tad cliché but I’ll say his Force Sensitivity. It’s not really hidden though. He used it passively as a child for stealth reasons (like augmenting his speed, or sensing how many people were in a room) but very seldom for telekinesis. Nothing bigger than credits or picking locks. When he was taken to Intelligence, he was taught to suppress it as much as possible - only for use in dire situations. No interrogating, no torturing, just be a normal fucking person. He did use it rarely, mostly in the field without any prying eyes or wayward Sith.

27 — What is their romance’s theme song? ✎ OH BOY SONG TIME and yes im gonna make you sad DarrVector - Everybody Wants To Rule The World (Tears For Fears) (and a fun fact. ewtrtw ^ is one of darr's full-life theme songs!) DarrTika - Lost It To Trying - Paper Towns Mix (Son Lux) TikaDarrVector - Midnight Breaks (Amber Spill) DarrHunter - The Flame (Tamino)

32 — Draw or describe the silliest outfit you can think of. They now have it inside their wardrobe, but it’s a secret between you and them… unless someone finds out. ✎ I wanna give him a piece of the outfit I may or may not be planning for Monday. I’m debating on whether or not I’m gonna wear one of my black corsets (either a full one or a brocade/vest type) - then my black pleather skirt under it. And probably the pink and white cow print tights I showed you, with my new chunky high heel Mary Janes. Darrash would wear the fuck out of this. Literally.

41 — If they were a bath bomb, what scents and colors would you use to describe their personality? ✎ Something that smells heady and almost too overwhelming when you pick it up from the basket and sniff it dry, but mellows out once it hits the steamy hot water. It’s like, fresh cut grass IN THE GOOD WAY NOT THE KIND THAT MAKES YOUR ALLERGIES FUCK UP. And deep-bloom flowers, fresh-cut green vegetables and augh. Outside. But in a good way. The kind of outside that makes you remember that there are good things in life. As for colors, I’d be cheeky enough to make it that obnoxious yellow-wash of Hutta.