#but they like and respect one silly german man too much

[livetogether--diealone]

fucking sebastian vettel

[juvenillia]

~ habits ~ König x fem!reader [fluff/secret santa]

a/n: @bunnyreaper did organise a secret santa, and I had the big honour to write for @piecesofcain and one of the options I could choose from was König, so ofc I had to! Christmas in Germany can be so freakin beautiful!!! Alright, I hope you like it angel. 🩶

[Also this will be like my slow come back to writing! Things are figured out, and I'm back at working on my stories. Stay tuned chums]

wordcount: 2.4k

》Master Post《

A repeating tapping of a heavy boot. A bobbing knee, which his huge sweaty hand tried to force into halt again. He was used to life-or-death situations. Calculating everything in the back of his head to make it out alive and achieve the desired outcome. Nervous was never a word you would think of when looking at the behemoth of a man König was. Maybe respected or even feared, but definitely not as anxious as he felt right now. He was deployed in Berlin for more than three months now. Working together with the KSK. Nothing he wasn’t used to. Nothing that would leave him sleepless. Still, he didn’t find much sleep for the last three days. Three days ago, was the day when you made the decision to fly over to Germany to visit him.

You had a phone call, rambling about your day when he nearly fell asleep because of the difference in time zones. He loved to stay awake listening to your voice anyway. It quickly became a habit for him. It felt like your voice was stuck in his life forever. Maybe it was simply because he believed his life just really started with the day he met you. Your voice was the needed comfort after a stressful day for him. A comfort that lulled him deeper into a slumber, imagining you would be by his side. Only your recent question brought him back to reality.

“Entschuldige. What were you saying?” [Excuse me] A yawn followed the thick German accent as he rubbed his forehead. His phone rested on his brawn chest.

“Silly.” You laughed while repositioning the laptop in front of you. The screen showed a website with different flight options. “I asked you, if you’d like me to come over for your days off.” It was a genuine question, eventually a bit shyer than the first time you asked him.

Suddenly, he was broad awake. Sitting up in his bed, the phone slid off his chest. He barely could catch it before it would’ve fallen to the floor. “Let me buy you the ticket.” All exhaustion in his voice was replaced with determination.

“Kö…”

“Not negotiable, Engel.” [angel] No sooner said than done, the plane tickets were bought.

A decision that led him to the Berlin airport, waiting for your arrival. A single rose resting on the seat next to him. Why was he so nervous when a good friend came over? Simple: Because you were already so much more to him. The two of you often spent the holidays together, when his job allowed it of course. Just two good friends sharing some quality time, but this time felt different. König had made up his mind some time ago. A night when he was sure not to see the rising sun again, and everything that clung to his mind was your smile. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of returning to you. He knew back then that he was screwed, too scared to risk the friendship you shared. He wanted to keep everything normal between both of you. Not sure how he’d manage, but he would try his best.

Just a few more minutes passed and then you walked along the corridor, wearing the mesmerizing smile he loved so much. Suitcase in one of your hands and the other already reaching out to him, while he pulled you in a tight hug. Bending down to embrace you fully, while you let go of your suitcase to do the same. He inhaled your scent as he buried his masked face into your hair. It was like all the anxiety had left his body. “Du hast mir echt gefehlt.”

“König.” You laughed while pulling away, searching for his crystal blue eyes. Eventually you found his habit of switching back to his mother tongue cute, even if you often had troubles understanding him.

“Sorry.” He squeezed your shoulders before redrawing his hand to massage his nape. “I’ve missed you… a lot." You could notice the smile, even when half of his face was covered by a black cotton mask he wore often when both of you were out. Before you could say something else, he held the flower up in front of you for you to take. No words, just a small gesture while he averted his eyes from yours.

“There was no need to.” You took the rose out of his hand, your fingers brushing amongst his for the blink of an eye. “Thank you.” Your tone became a bit shyer, while your cheeks were stained in a slight rose. Something he missed as the floor became so much more interesting. There was never a need to be honest, but he still managed to give you little things. Just little gifts to show how much he cared.

Without hesitation he took your suitcase and held out his arm for you to take. A polite gesture, something that became a habit whenever you two walked somewhere. He would lead you to wherever needed while you wrapped your hand around his beefy upper arm. He always needed to slow his steps to match your pace. This time he led you to his car. Holding the passenger door open for you to take your seat. Just then he stored your luggage in the trunk and took his own seat.

“Where are you taking me?” It took you some time before you asked him. Your eyes taking in the different views of Berlin’s streets. It was your first time being here, so literally everything seemed to catch your interest. König made sure to take a longer route to your place of destination. Driving past the Tempelhofer Feld which looked so out of place. Nothing but huge snowy fields in the middle of the city. Making sure to take an extra turn in the roundabout by the Siegessäule. Leading you all the way back to Alexanderplatz. The whole city was covered in adorable lights, little Christmas Trees and lanterns. But in his opinion none of their lights could compete with the shining in your eyes. He told you more or less stupid facts about the places you drove past till he parked the car in one of the underground garages near the huge shopping center called Alexa, which was completely flooded in decorations and humans running the last errands for the holidays.

A shopping center you tried to fight your way out. It was way too crowded, and made you feel kind of anxious. Your hand clinging tight onto his upper arm while he led you through the mass of people. To his advantage he could overlook most of the customers around. He slid his arm around your shoulder to keep you closer to him. Granting you a feeling of safety. “Just a little while longer, mein Engel, just a little bit,” he said calmly, hoping his voice and touch could bring you the same comfort as you brought him all the time, while leading you out of the center and onto a bigger place. The space itself was covered in little wooden booths where you could buy many different kinds of food, drinks or little presents. It was one of the various Christmas markets which are dispersed all over the city.

Even if you could easily breath and most people granted you some space for yourself out here, you were still tugged into his side. Not daring to let go, until you stood in front of a huge field of ice. It was formed like a ring, and in the middle was a water fontaine - the Neptunbrunnen - decorated in some cozy lights. The air was filled with laughter and screams by children sliding over the icey floor. “Engel, you mentioned some time ago that you’d like to go ice skating.” He patted your head slightly, while adjusting the cotton cap you wore. “And how nobody would join..so I thought…”

Without waiting for him to finish and without hesitation you wrapped your arms around him. “Kö, I love you.”

He also wrapped his arms around you, while his heart felt heavy, still, you could feel the vibrations of his chest as some chuckles left his throat. He had heard those words millions of times. Something that was such a routine, while he knew how you meant it, he would love to hear it with different intentions. “Ich hab dich auch lieb.” [I love you too.(used for friends)]

Within the next twenty minutes you were on the ice, skates laced onto your feet while holding König’s hands to help stabilize himself. He may be an ace when it comes to rescuing hostages and invading enemy terrain, but standing on the thin metal beneath his huge feet, it was difficult for him. But you couldn’t help it and find it really adorable. Little children were faster on the ice than him. But you didn’t mind. Any minute you spent with him was just pure entertainment. After some time, when he finally grew more confident on the skates, he told you to take some rounds on your own. Just so you could fully enjoy it, while he made little steps to even fulfil one round on the rink.

The next thing you could remember was a bit blurry. The white floor stained red. You just assumed that he fell. As someone explained later to you, there were some careless kids, they didn’t take notice of the nearly two meter man lying on the cold floor. Unfortunately they literally ran over him, the skid running a deep wound through his jacket and into the flesh of his arm. You were freaking out, yelling at the kids while there were already two people helping him up and taking care of him, calling an ambulance. Better safe than sorry, they told him as he declined the offer. It really wasn’t a big deal for König, but for you.

The whole thing led to the two of you sitting in the emergency room, where a nurse took care of the injury. Just a few stitches and everything was fine. Well, not for you. As you walked into the hotel room he booked for you, you still kept ranting about those brats that hurt him. That hurt your König. He couldn’t do anything but laugh about your rambling. “You’re adorable like that.” The words slipped faster out of his mouth than he could’ve blinked. Sitting at the edge of your bed, mask long forgotten and staring once more at the floor. There weren't many things that would make the Austrian nervous, but knowing to say something inappropriate for the sake of your friendship indeed did make him nervous. Maybe even more as you didn’t answer the man now searching for your eyes. You stood in front of him, even in this position you barely were on eye level due to his height.

His eyes kept scanning your face, every twitching of your brows or blinking of your eyes. He observed it before he exhaled deeply. Took your hands in his to pull you a bit closer. You let him do so, still not saying anything. Too curious what was happening in his head.

“Ich liebe dich.” He looked directly in your eyes while keeping a stern face. Unsure of what he was doing.

You just nodded while turning your head away now. “Yeah… love you too.” It was the usual answer, something so casual for you to say. An old habit.

“Nein, mein Engel.” [No, my angel.] He shook his head and brushed his thumbs over your knuckles, before pulling them up to his mouth to place a slight kiss onto them. “Hab dich lieb and Ich liebe dich, those are two different things." His eyes held a bit of fear, but also so much adoration as his hands couldn’t let go of yours.

His words made something click inside your head. This wasn’t like the empty phrase he used so often. Not like the words you used to say. It wasn’t by habit. It was a confession, something you could have missed easily, if it wasn't for him to clarify it right here. Besides all the promises he made to himself, to keep it on the casual and friendly bases you had, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He wanted to be honest with you. He never wanted to lie to you. Those words often died on his tongue before, but not this time.

Your lips parted while one of his hands reached out to cup your cheek and your throat ran dry. “You mean it?” It was nearly pathetic asking for reassurance, but he got it. Pulling you once more closer to him, his nose touched yours now. Your noses brushing amongst each other as he slowly nodded. So you took the initiative and closed the last gap separating both of you. Placing your lips gently onto his while closing your eyes. His hands let go of yours, to take hold onto your waist while pulling you impossible closer. You nearly tripped over, but your hands found his shoulders to gain a bit of stability while the kiss grew deeper. Neither of you wanted to let go first, but the air escaping your lungs let you pull away sooner or later.

With a raising and falling chest you looked into each other's eyes and a smile tugged at his lips. “This becoming our new habit?” you teased him with the same genuine smile.

“Ich hoffe doch.” [I hope so] With those words he threw himself onto his back, pulling you immediately on top of him and wrapping his arms around your figure, listening to your little giggles in doing so.

“Kö, your wound!” You scolded him, but he didn't care, not when he finally could fall asleep the way he always wanted to. You tugged onto his chest, beefy arms keeping you close to him while you could listen to his heartbeat, which slowed more and more after the confession.

The whole situation led you to spending most of the days of this year’s holidays in the cozy hotel room, taking good care of the wound that would now become a scar. An addition to the ones he already had, but this one would always hold a special meaning to him. Reminding him on the day you became fully his.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

There are many things I will never forgive Rick Riordan for but the number 1 (one) thing I will always hold against him is how he treated WWII in the entire series.

To quote the PJO wiki, "[...] World War II, in the books, is described to be a huge fight between the children of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the children of Hades on the other.

The events of World War II resulted in the pact of the Big Three, because their children were affecting the course of history too much. It was decided more demigod children would be dangerous for the mortal world."

Just. What the fuck. There are so many things that are wrong with this.

There is nothing that he can do to excuse or salvage this. He could rewrite the whole series, I don't give a fuck. This should not have happened in the first place.

I don't care if he wrote the first book in 2005, he was and still is a grown ass man with a high education from what I've read, he has no excuse. WWII has affected millions across the globe with the descendants of all too many families even having to deal with the generational trauma that came from that time period alone AND dealing with heavy deniers of the many atrocities and war crimes that were committed whilst their grandparents and great-grandparents are having hallucinations of all of their traumatic experiences (can you tell i'm speaking from experience?).

Ironically he holds (Ancient) Greece on such a high pedestal, calling it the birthplace of Western Civilisation (it isn't), and yet you can tell he obviously knows very little about the damn country whose culture he's been appropreating for almost two decades now. Making Hades the father of 3 (three) terrible war criminals in the war that, you know, Greece had been and still is greatly affected by to this day. Which is, you know, his fucking home. That he and all the other characters supposedly care about oh so much (I have so many bottled-up negative emotions about these books and absolutely no safe space to let them out, theitsa, you have no idea).

You may think I'm overreacting or taking this too seriously but I honestly couldn't care less. This is not a topic you can just joke about or treat light-heartedly. Yes, it was mentioned as an atrocity in the books, but it was still mainly treated as just "Hehe silly fight between gods! Secret History ooo!~".

Simply saying that WWII was bad is not enough, Rick, it's actually the bare minimum. You need to show it at the very least some respect by not undermining its consequences to simply "This is why we don't have kids anymore!". But you're obviously not ready to hear that yet. It still baffles me that his fans are just now discovering he is not the saint they thought he was. "How could he be a zionist ??" they all ask in unison, meanwhile the signs were all there since 2005 (at the very least).

Anyway, you don't have to answer this ask if you don't feel like it, I understand it can possibly be overwhelming. You're the first person I've seen that's actually not afraid to point out Rick's bullshit despite initially liking his books, and also the fact that you are a Greek educating people on actual Greek culture, so I felt safe sharing my thoughts with you. Thank you for your time! Καλές γιορτές! 💕

You're overreacting, especially when it comes to the World Wars! In ww2 1 in 10 Greeks died in the famine, and almost everyone I know had someone in their family executed or tortured by the Germans/Bulgarians/Italians triple occupation (not to mention getting hurt or killed in battle). These situations traumatized generations of Greeks, but Rick had the immense privilege of not considering this while writing! He treated the wars like they were play-dough for his little cutsy lore, he made our arch-enemies the children of our gods, and he can go to hell for this.

I am here for all the righteous Greek αλάτι, so if you have more thoughts, bring it on!

[marimayscarlett]

This is a FREE pass to deep dive into ANY of your favorite thing(s) about Mr. Zee Kay!!! I wanna hear EVERYTHING about your favorite thing, I love seeing your deep dives and essays on the most important subject to exist ❤️

❗ CAUTION. LONG-ISH POST AHEAD. ❗

Hi! First of all:

Kissies for you for sending me this ask, thank you so much! This has been sitting in my inbox for a while now since it took me ages to decide what this post should be about. I didn't want to make yet another fashion/stage outfit/etc post, so I decided to do something different with it.

I decided this will be a long ass post about Richard's outspokenness and honesty in interviews and some of my favourite quotes/topics he spoke about in the past. This man has A LOT to say and sometimes is brutally honest with his answers. You ask him how he's doing or what he thinks about XYZ? Prepare for a lengthy and detailed reply. You ask him something silly or boring? Be prepared he quite actually reacts quite directly on it.

This list will be sorted by three topics: 1. Quotes regarding work with Rammstein, Emigrate and in general, 2. Quotes about his personal life and finally, 3. Unhinged shit Richard says since this man sometimes has no filter.

All interviews will be linked, german quotes are translated into english. Prepare yourself, this will be long and self-indulgend and I'm probably the only person who's really interested in this stuff but i don't CARE, I love reading about and listening to this man and I'll use this post to my liking thanks to this lovely, lovely anon 💞 Let's get started 👀🤍

Richard on working with Rammstein and Emigrate and music in general

In this interview, Richard talks about being put into the right wing corner by the german media and how hard it is for him and the band: "You want to shout it out loud and convince people otherwise, only to find that nobody listens because nobody wants to know. They want you in this corner. That was very disillusioning."

Here he gives an example for his immeasurable perfectionism and how he tries to protect himself from it: "I spent a lot of time recording guitars over and over again. I ended up giving my guitar engineer the key to the locker where my guitar cabinets are and told him “Do not give me this key back”,  otherwise I would have still been in there recording guitars right now.

In the same interview, he also gives an example how the whole Mutter problem came into play: "So if I’d come up with 45 ideas, then others in the band may feel they’d have to come up with 45 ideas as well. There was lot of pressure going on within Rammstein because of that."

Here Richard talks about how he, back in the GDR days, wandered from peer group to peer group to find his style: "I've always been bored of sticking with just one group of people. The metalheads got drunk too often. So I moved on - and I found that refreshing - to the punks …" Interviewer: … who didn't drink any less. "No, exactly. And they were also dirtier (laughs). Then I was with the bluesmen, and they always went to these blues fairs. And because they also drank a lot, they could sleep well, whereas I, who didn't drink, always woke up at three in the morning because I was so cold - we only had these thin cotton sleeping bags."

Richard on the amount of hours which go in one song of his [interview]: "At some point, I calculated that it takes me about 1000 hours on average for a song to reach the listener. But I don't want to think too much about the time involved. That would just be frustrating."

On his relationship with Flake and that he would be the one member of the band Richard would play an Emigrate album as a test run to [interview]: "Although someone like Flake would probably be very open to that. We have a lot of respect for each other and are in a lively exchange. For example, I regularly listen to his radio show - and call him afterwards to ask him what weird stuff he's been saying. (laughs)"

2. Richard on his personal life

In my alltime favourite podcast with Richard, he admist to seemingly being a quite difficult person to live with (apparently, only his daughter is able to and is relaxed enough to bring him inner peace). He hates talking in the morning, needs time for himself with no talking and reflect on things and sometimes is afraid/annoyed that he has to explain himself to others (since other people tend to take offense because of this). This is one of the reasons why he definitely can't imagine living together with a girlfriend again.

Here he talks about the evolution of friendship with Till: Intervier: How has your friendship changed over more than 30 years? Richard: "Well, as it goes in life: Unfortunately, there's never a happy ending. You should only meet friends once or twice a month. It's unnatural for men to be extremely close for decades. At some point you want to be left alone." Interviewer: You two are more like colleagues these days? Richard: "Sounds stupid, but that's kind of how it is. But I still have a basic trust: If anything happens, I know I can call Till and he'll be there, just like the others."

Here Richard admits to his immense moodiness at times: "I am a very moody person, my mood sometimes changes by the hour."

Why he likes western movies so much [interview]: "It might sound strange, but I have really early childhood memories of my father watching these cowboy movies and falling asleep… that ended up being part of my upbringing somehow."

And his fond memory of the wild times with Till after the wall came down [interview]: "Because at that time, in every house there was a techno or rave party, and we would go there, and 7 in the morning, he would bring his daughter to school, and then come back and we would stay there into the daytime, and dance to these electric beats — I mean, can you imagine us dancing like that?"

How he answers to a fan question in which movie/show he'd like to be a part of (musically or in general) [article]: "I would have loved to have been in Game of Thrones. I really love fantasy worlds, you know? Also Westworld."

3. Welcome to the unhinged RZK corner aka "Shit RZK says":

In this interview, he describes his relationship with music like this: "I believe the music itself must be the king, but I want to be the queen." Alrighty then 👀

Just overall this conversation with him thinking about filming himself having sex [interview]:

The Gauntlet: Do you always have that funny smile during sex? [regarding the Pussy MV]

Richard: "I actually never watched myself but you have a point. I really should watch myself or videotape it. I never really...I can do it. I did that a long time ago but every girl is different. Do I really smile? Sometimes I guess, I will have to check that out. You really have me thinking on that one."

This man seemingly tried every therapy under the sun, which is good, but this one left me a bit speechless [interview]: "I always had the feeling that I was a king without a nation. That was always in my head and I once did reincarnation therapy and experienced this life. It was really interesting and this song came out of that [song: Born on my own].

Here he admits to throwing a guitar at Lemmy Kilmister: "It was the third time a roadie had given me an out-of-tune guitar. So I threw it at him. Unfortunately, Lemmy was standing there watching the show from the side of the stage. But I didn't know that, I just saw Lemmy disappear. That was very embarrassing for me."

Or he throws his credits cards at sales women (how about some anger management my guy): "The last time I was there [New York], I wanted to pay for a coffee in a café with a hundred dollar bill. But not because I wanted to be a big shot, but because I just had this one bill in my pocket. The sales woman hissed at me and threw the bill back over the counter. I just thought: She's out of her mind. I then threw my credit card at her. I was really angry."

If you made it to the end of this post, I really applaud you and apologize for my rambling yet again 🙏 I could go on and on (I didn't even started with quoting the video interviews), but I think since I'm the only one who's into this, I stop right here 😅 Have some smiley Richard as a reward 🍀

[catwater1987]

The Sicky PR⦻XY

My Creepypasta OC I tried my best to make her come out as perfect as I wanted, even though her name is a bit silly...i guess? But I hope you guys like her.🫶💖

Her story and history will be changed as appropriate. I apologize if my character offends anyone. With all due respect, I just want to enjoy the fandom and the characters I love, and thanks to all of you, I hope we can be good new friends.🙌✨

(and I'm very sorry for my poor Eng)

History of The Sicky (2024)

FULL NAME

Livia lilly laurel ลิเวีย ลิลลี่ ลอเรล

ALIAS

Livia / Sicky / Livia laurel / Camera girl

/ Mrs. Laurel / Lilly

Age: 20y

Gender: Female

Height: 5'4 (165cm )

weight : 47kk.

OCCUPATION

- Serial killer

- Proxy for the slender man

- Camera girl

- Delivery Girl

POWER/SKILLS

• Better physical recovery than ordinary humans

• Night vision

• High-level inteligence

• Emotional instability

• Physical strength

• Wound resistance ( There is no feeling of pain)

• Excellent speed

• The ability to turn things around

• Ability to unlock doors

• Medical knowledge

• Silent stalking

• Breaking into the victim's home

HOBBY

- Take video of the victim

- Delivering essential supplies to other proxies, including some pasta.

- Investigate the victim's History

- Killing people in the name of Slender Man.

CRIMES

• Hacker

• Serial murder

• Torture

• Vandalism

• Endangerment

• Proxy conspiracy

• Stalking

• Aiding and abetting

• Stealing

• Kidnapping

Most famous catchphrase of The sicky

" There is no place that is safe, and there is no place that can be called home. "

The first description of the sicky

' A strange woman would often appear suspiciously at the edge of a tall forest tree, but when approached, she would disappear as if she had never existed. Sometimes, you can hear the sounds of giggling and humming in the wind from the tall forest trees. No one knows whether what people saw about that woman was a human or a ghost. '

PERSONALITY

Sicky is bipolar and severely moody. As a result of Slender Fever that turned her into a proxy, her mood and personality change so much that it is very difficult to predict her thoughts. Sometimes she is cheerful, but then she is sad and angry immediately. This makes it difficult for anyone to talk to her because of her mood swings. But in reality, she is a talkative and lonely person. She always finds something fun to do when she is free. In fact, she likes to keep herself busy all the time or sometimes she bothers other people.

In her original personality before becoming a proxy, she was a polite and cheerful person. She was someone who always cared about others before herself, which often caused her trouble.

BIOGRAPHY

PAST

Livia Lily Laurel, she is an ordinary girl, half German-Thai. She has an older brother named Eric and a twin sister Fiona. In fact, she was born in Thailand, but when she was 10 years old, her parents moved her and her siblings to USA instead. And she has been living there ever since. But since moving here, their father has been very stressed from work and started drinking and started using violence in the family. Most of the time, the one who was physically abused was their mother. What they were abused with was foul language, insults, or words that caused emotional wounds. Until finally, they divorced because a neighbor reported domestic violence to the police. The police arrested him. But her life after that was not smooth because the impact made Fiona mentally ill from too much stress. Their mother worked hard to make a living and was sick regularly. They were still young, so they could not help their mother much. But on the other hand, their brother was even worse. Because he was the oldest brother, he wanted to help ease the burden as much as possible, both taking care of his two younger sisters and working while studying, including all the expenses in the house. But it seemed like their father would not give up easily. After he was released from prison, he still followed them to cause trouble many times.When Livia and Fiona went to college, they both started to find part-time jobs. Livia worked as a general cashier, while Fiona was a general online fiction writer. Because of her mental illness, her life was difficult. Their brother also took on general jobs while studying to be a doctor. One day, their mother fell ill and died from the disease, leaving the burden completely on Eric. But without their mother, their ex-father became more and more intrusive. Eric could not stand this man anymore. He killed his ex-father by himself without his two sisters knowing about it, and fled the city. But he still left a lot of cash for his two sisters. He had to suffer the consequences of what he did alone. But he was still worried about his two sisters. Even though he didn't contact them back, he still sent money whenever he had the chance. As for Livia and Fiona, even though they weren't having a hard time with money anymore, they missed their older brother. But they had to move on with their lives until their lives changed dramatically again.

BECOMING THE SICKY

Livia twin sister she was hunted by the Slenderman. It was because Fiona got lost in the Slender Forest on a rainy night when she was going home. It was their bad luck that they had to suffer this terrible fate. No matter where they ran, they were found. To make matters worse, she had to survive from the proxies who were sent to hunt them down. After a long chase, Fiona was successfully captured. Livia was badly injured, but she refused to let them take the last of her family. She forced her body to follow the Slender Forest and played their game. She won the game, but because her badly injured body was too much for her to bear, she begged them to let Fiona go and take her life instead. Slender saw that determination and agreed to let Fiona go. But instead of killing Livia but he's don't. he took her as another one of his proxies. Because he liked the recklessness and fearlessness of this young woman, and he believed that she would be a loyal servant.

DISORDERS

-Bipolar disorder

-Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

-Anxiety Disorder

-Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder

-Partial memory loss

-The body twitches when exposed to stress.

-Panic attacks from certain things

-Slender sickness

FAMILY

Andrew Parker Laurel (Farther)

Susan Laurel / ปลายฟ้า (mother)

Eric Cyclamen Laurel ( big brother)

Fiona Asphodel Laurel (twin sister)

Mary lee Matthew ( cousin)

LOVE INTERNET

She thinks she doesn't deserve a lover because She can't protect people she loves.

Favorite Songs

In the shadows - Asher Of Angst

THE FACTS

-Since she couldn't stay still for long, she was given a special task: to deliver spare weapons and supplies to some proxies and pastas.

-She isn't in the Slender Forest all the time. Sometimes she disguises herself and blends into the crowds of the town, looking for interesting victim.

-Her and Fiona's birthdays fall on Christmas Eve.

-When she was a new proxy, she was so quiet that people thought she was mute

- She hates being alone because she used to have Fiona with her all the time, but now that's not the case anymore, so she always likes to be with Proxy and other pastas..

- She especially loves orange cats because she used to have an orange cat she name Lucky she loved and took good care of her, but it sadly died of a serious disease.

[timomoe]

estonia for the bingo thing

Oh god, anon, you really opened the flood gates with this one. This is gonna be a massive post, and I'm so sorry to everyone in advance.

Note: these are all things that bother me personally. I am not attempting to make anyone feel like they should also feel mad about these things. I am not out to shame anyone who has hcs that are different than my own. I'm just breaking my thoughts down. Idc how anyone characterizes Estonia.

1. I Dont Trust The Fandom With Estonia, Ever

Estonia's fandom depictions range from elegant, eloquent, intelligent, calm, and collected to creepy basement dwelling discord mod neck beard with no friends and no personality. The latter characterization is - you guessed it - a leftover from Old Fandom and is slowly dying off. It doesn't stop people from continuing to make him into an internet-y, awkward loser, though, and that's really sad to me, ngl. A lot of people see him as a weak, lonely loser, when this is actually extremely removed from canon. Ofc, headcanons are fine, but I see a surprising amount of people who think this characterization is canon, when in reality, it's just fanon. Canonically speaking, Estonia is very good at making friends and is easily able to maintain good relations with most of the nations. He's perceptive and able to read the feelings of people around him. He has lots of hobbies that he's really good at, too. He's smart and good with money and business. According to Himaruya, he SMELLS LIKE MONEY (which I just think is funny).

Nowadays, the fandom is usually nice to him, but unfortunately I do still see ppl completely mischarachterizing him and his relationships, especially when it comes to the Nordics. I think people tend to forget that Estonia is on good terms with every Nordic except for Iceland, and it isn't for no reason. Estonia shares very strong history with Denmark, Sweden, and Finland - a majority of the Nordics - and Norway seems to like him - or at least tolerate him - too. In the series, Estonia sees Sweden as a mentor figure, and he deeply respects him and his opinions. Finland is Estonia's best friend. Denmark and Estonia are on good terms. Their relationship isn't expanded on much, but Denmark never so much as implies that he thinks Estonia is annoying or a try hard. Norway, notorious teaser and pain in the ass (affectionate) also never teases or takes a jab at Estonia on screen or in the manga.

He's friends with people like America - the two work on silly little projects together just for shits and giggles. Oddly, America seems to treat Estonia quite well; from the little we've seen of their friendship, it seems like the two have been friends for a while, at least since 2007, as "The Gentle Fight Between Russia and I" is based off the 2007 Russian cyber attacks on Estonia. That's around 16 years ago, now.

As mentioned previously, Estonia is also frequently viewed as being wimpy and weak, when this is not the case. People usually tend to point to Estonia's time in the Soviet Union or the first time that Sweden and Estonia meet to back that up, but I counter with this - Estonia was actively being colonized at both of those time periods. The strip "The Violent Mr. Sve of Northern Europe Takes a Swing," is set at the beginning of the Swedish Era in Estonia. It details just how Sweden got ahold of Estonia to begin with - by being generally terrifying on accident. Prior to this point in time, though, Estonia was being treated badly by literally everyone around him (Teutonic Knights, Baltic Germans, etc.), so of course he would assume that this new man was here to treat him similarly (especially if you consider Estonians and Swedes had squabbled in the past over various things, and Estonia ALSO burned down Sweden's first capital.)

As far as the Soviet Era is concerned, Russia was extremely abusive to all of the Baltic States, dishing out really nasty punishments to them - going so far as to kill Latvia (albeit on accident) - when they speak out or annoy him. Of course he would be afraid of him.

Now, though? Estonia is daring and confident. He isn't afraid of Russia and routinely mouths off to him, challenges, stands up to, and outsmarts him. Even if he was afraid before, he isn't now. He has, seemingly, come back into himself. Yay character progression!!

2. I Know Him Better Than The Creator, Yaas, Queen, Give Us Nothing, & If I Could Save Him From the Narrative, I Would.

I know I just wrote 6 whole paragraphs about why I like Estonia's canon depiction, but I have to be 100% honest, I'm also not the biggest fan of Himaruya's interpretation of Estonia. There are good things about him, and I enjoy a lot of what he's put out, but at the same time there are things about him in canon that really annoy me.

For one, despite Estonians being very fond of their country, its history, culture, and language, Estonia... Isn't. At all. He is obsessed with being a Nordic, does not really treat Latvia and Lithuania well (which is strange imo, bc due to shared oppression, history, and struggle, the Baltic States are pretty tight knit.) and doesn't seem to care that it hurts them to know he would rather be a Nordic than a Baltic, and he seems to think that becoming a Nordic will solve a lot of his problems. He talks more about how cool Finnish culture is than he does his own, and that's really disappointing to me because when it comes to history, culture, and language, for Estonia there's so much to talk about.

Like let's think about the Eesti Can't Into Nordic joke that's running in the series. I'd like to remind y'all (/lh) that the Estonian government proposed the idea of Estonia being Nordic only once. One time. And the reason it failed was two-way. Not only did the Nordic nations not care, but Estonians were generally against it.

As far as I know, it's got to do with previously stated attachment to the other Baltics, and also because of their flag. For those who don't know, the Estonian flag was a banned symbol in the USSR, and anyone caught with it could face some pretty hefty punishments. The only reason we still have the original Estonian flag is bc two college dudes were like "mine vittu, venelased!" *Spits on the ground and shoves the Estonian flag behind a chimney where it will stay safe.*

Also. The joke about Estonia wanting to join the Nordics seems silly, as there's been this neat little thing called the Nordic Baltic 8 that's been around since the 90s. There's already an entire organization made up of all the Nordics and Baltics with the point of it being mutual aid and cooperation. Meaning all of the things Estonia thought he'd get by becoming a Nordic have already come to fruition.

On top of that, it had been a symbol of Estonian endurance, freedom, and perseverance for decades by that point. People were so attached to it and adverse to making the tricolor into a Nordic cross, so the idea died.

Edit: was also reminded by an Estonian friend that some of the suggested designs for the first Estonian flag were in fact in a Nordic Cross pattern, but they all lost out to the tricolor, meaning that whole idea wasn't just rejected once, but twice.

There's also something about his name that annoys me a little. While I believe it was genuinely an accident, Eduard's name is surreal. Let me explain what I mean. Himaruya tends to legacy name his characters. England is named for king Arthur, Sweden's last name is taken from a Swedish writer, Finland is named after Väinämöinen, Latvia is named after a Latvian singer.

The only person in Estonian history of any note with the last name Von Bock was a Baltic German man who, among other things, hated ethnic Estonians and believed them to be subhuman. Bit of an oopsie to give him a name like that. Not even Eduard is an Estonian name, it is just the Estonianized spelling of a German name too. Eduard isn't so bad though, since it is actually a common Estonian name.

3. I Want To Protect Them, Babygirl MF, They're Like a Brother to Me, & They're So Cute When They're Bleeding.

Ok so the basics of this one are: I love Estonia, he's a weirdo, he's my favorite, I only ever want good things for him, and yet every single time I write anything involving him, it always winds up being angsty as shit and sad. I am not allowed to let this man be happy, IG.

[cyarsk52-20]

A MERRY AMERICAN CHRISTMAS ASSKICKING:

This lumpy Dumpty splooge-bib excuse of a human claimed I betrayed my oath to protect and serve the Constitution by not siding with Trump.

Be-Fucking-Hold his public whipping!

YOU!

@shanejett

YOU SILLY CHUM GUZZLING BITCH: You dirty the word "respect" when it comes out of your disgusting MAGA mouth. Mainly because you believe the meaning in your career of amateur proctology as I "I re-'spect Trumps ass with my lips." That is NOT the meaning, dogface.

I AM A US NAVY CHIEF! I took the Oath and I protected and defended the Constitution with my life & loved every minute of it. As did my father, his father and his father and his father, all of my brothers and my neices & nephews. My wife and my mother and all the Nance wives gave their all to keep America safe so you can vomit up whatever racist bullshit you want in the comfort of your Gimp suit. We also all served to protect your right to be a fucking idiot. THAT OATH HAS NEVER ENDED AND NEVER WILL EVEN AFTER DEATH. Unlike you, OUR Honor will never be forgotten bc our OATH is upheld! You Oath-breaking bitch!

I cannot believe for one GD second you ever served in my beloved US Navy. You may have been it it but you clearly never believed what it meant to SERVE!

FYI My "potty mouth" is honed with the razor sharpness of over 130 years of Navy Chief Petty Officer leadership in war, peace and for the exact purpose to recalibrate the interminable stupidity of dumbasses like you who have the absolute fucking temerity to speak your stupid shit to our faces!

Chiefs & other service Senior NCOs represent the best values of how to unfuck the village cunt's god given cuntiness, especially when ignoramuses like you raise their heads and dare to speak WORDS. We WAIT for moments like this where some asswipe talks shit.

You put your silly anti-Woke MAGA nuts on the table and have raised your head demanding satisfaction. I will oblige you, sir, you silly twerp. So, now sit the fuck down and STFU & take this ass kicking as a LIFE LESSON bc it will be tied to your racist ignorant bigoted name, Shane David Jett ,for HISTORY. When I'm done your KIDS will laugh at you.

You're so GD ignorant you shout out words you literally have no idea of what they mean. Communist, Marxist-Leninist?! MF did you MISS 1989? Were you drunk in a gutter when that all failed worldwide? I'm a MFing Philadelphian, Bitch - I walked the streets where our founding fathers tried to share values YOU no longer care about bc you love a wannabe dictator King, that you worship as an Orange God. Bitch, you are in a CULT.

FYI Cunty McCuntface, AMERICA HATES KINGS. A LESSON:

Every Christmas morning at 0630 after a 3 hour drive, I am at WASHINGTON'S CROSSING NATIONAL CEMETARY honoring my wife, my brother and thanking God I too will be interred on the very land near where Washington daringly crossed the Delaware 246 years ago ... THIS VERY NIGHT!

I honor Washington so much I am at the crossing every year. I marvel that next to the greatest man in American history was a man named Billy Lee, an African-American soldier. Valet, Aide, Bodyguard and slave he loved Washington bc he KNEW his very presence was a step forward for his children in America. Was GW a flawed man? Yes he had slaves but he KNEW the measure of a man and his value to America would come in the future. Did he hate blacks? No. His very LIFE was guarded by one! America's body guard has always be people of color who defend the IDEALs & values. The HOPE of being part of the American experiment!

Jefferson loved African-Americans so much he had SIX mixed races kids with his late wife's HALF SISTER. thats Diversity!

The Christmas 1776 Crossing was done by a sick, frozen army filled with the very person you clearly hate. The Continental Army was NOT all white. It had blacks, native Americans and THOUSANDS of ... wait for it, IMMIGRANTS! Native Indians, Frenchmen, Poles, Germans, Irish and fucking drunk ass, Interracial, international sailors of General' Glover's Marbleheaders - many were transatlantic sailors, fishers AND lobstermen. You know about those Lobstermen, right?

Washington took one look at them all and did he say "Blacks out of the army? Whites only?

NO! he said "INTO THE DURHAM BOATS BITCHES AND ROW LIKE THE DEVIL! WE GOT HESSIAN ASS TO KICK AND A FUCK TON OF BRITSH BRANDY TO DRINK BEFORE TAKING PRINCETON" or something to that effect.

Thats fucking DIVERSITY ... of manpower & skills to win the revolution and a new nation, you simple ass bitch!

EQUALITY is the shared suffering of bitter cold, bad food & disease they endured.

INCLUSION was that every bastard had a GUN & POWDER and was going to serve up hot fucking American musket balls to the British forces EQUALLY!

What's missing from your vocabulary is that THEY had UNITY of purpose. They LOVED the idea of the new American and fought for it ... and the Hessian breakfast they were going to fucking EAT ... with cannon!

A GD 100% accredited negro named Prince Whipple is the black man in the boat rowing in the painting, Motherfucker!

LESSON OF THE CROSSING OF 1776: DIVERSITY, EQUALITY, INCLUSION & UNITY OF PURPOSE IS GREATEST FORCE MULTIPLIER OF THE ARMED FORCES OF THE UNITED STATES!

And my nation, the real America, where we like and share America's value of diversity, equality and inclusion with all of our neighbors, is one I'll defend from ignoramuses like you. So, now you HATE America's values? Then YOU HATE WHAT WASHINGTON CROSSING REPRESENTS!

Washington would call you a GD "Poltroon" like those traitorous fucks Charles Lee & Benedict Arnold.

You're just a fake American. But by God, we will protect stupid fuks like you just as well as the honorable & smart ones.

You misguided asswipes tried to overthrow the government on J6 and you're so stupid you thought destroying America would let you to write DIVERSITY, EQUALITY and INCLUSION. Wrong Motherfucker! You love White so much you removed the Red blood spilled for it defense and removed the Blue loyalty. It just leaves you with a white flag ... which is the flag of cowards & confederates. You racists dumb as fucking rock Trump voters who worship a con man, a traitor, a secrets thief, a rapist and an idiot who YOU think he is actually SMART!. Thats how fucking stupid YOU are. America is great because of its diversity, because of its immigrants like Hamilton, Pulaski, Einstein & Schwarzenegger because of its common love of its founding values ... but you love a fat fuck who kisses the ass of a North Korean Communist, a exKGB communist officer and who has cash paying contracts with a Chinese Communist dictator.

Whatever you do DO NOT REPLY unless it's an apology to America. This online beating will continue as long as you hate America of the last 246 years. If you see Trump's racist conservative anti-DEI America as the one you want ... a bit of advice:

MOVE TO RUSSIA MOTHERFUCKER!

See how Merry your Christmas will be there fighting over potatoes that no Mexican has ever touched!!

- Malcolm Nance

(@MalcolmNance) twitter

Put this good butt kicking in the louvre

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

Word count: 1,9K

Warning: angst, kinda messy writing, bad grammar

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

You were always a hopeful person. Trying to be positive no matter what. Seeing the good in people. Even in Loki.

You first met him in his glass cell in helicarier (a/n i have no idea how to spell it, it's that big flying thing in Avengers 1). You two talked and got to know eachother. He told you how his father lied to him, how Thanos tortured him and how he doesn't want to hurt anyone. You believed him. And promised him he will be okay.

Two years after the battle of New York you finally talked to your team mates. You made an entire power point presentation for Avengers to show them Loki is not evil anymore and they should at least give him a chance, like you did.

That's how you and Loki became close friends. Always spending time with the other one, talking about your interests, your cultures, books, movies, anything the both of you came up with.

You comforted him, when he had nightmares. He cuddled you when you watched horror movies and got scared.

He always came to you for advice and opinion and you were more than happy to help your best friend. He always hugged you afterwards as thanks.

Sometimes he even brought you a cake and some flowers, just because he 'felt like it'.

One rainy day he fall asleep on your lap in your room. As you played with his black silky hair you realized you don't view him as your best friend anymore. But as a crush. You felt a shy blush come up to your cheeks as you imagined how would it feel like to cuddle him whole night, to be held by him, kissed by him.

You caressed his cheek and hoped one day he would feel the same.

And as always, you became hopeful. You started to remember all those times he was very close with you, doing something only couples do (like the afore mentioned cuddling, falling asleep on your lap or even the freaking flowers) and hoping he is developing feelings for you.

You were wrong.

You remember that day clearly. It was nice and sunny outside. A perfect day for a walk in the park. You walked out from your room and started looking for Loki. You wanted to have a walk with him.

You heard some voices coming from the kitchen below. Including a velvety one you knew all too well.

You jumped down those 20 stairs. Voices got louder as you came closer. There was Loki and some woman in the kitchen. And nobody else. Your name fell from one of their mouth's.

Quiet as a mouse you stood behind the corner just outside the kitchen and listened.

"Don't tell me she's not annoying! She's practically your shadow and trails after you like a lost puppy. And not even a cute one!" the woman giggled. From her tone of voice you imagined her as a classical blond plastic fake gold digger. You expected Loki to stood up for you, like any good friend would.

He only chuckled. "You are right! She is always behind my back. So bothersome and clingy..." you heard gulping. Maybe they were drinking some alcohol. You prayed for him to be just drunk and not knowing what he's saying.

"So why do you keep her around so much?"

A moment of silence. "I don't really know. For fun, I suppose? She was only good for me to get out of prison. She's so naive to really think I am her friend it's hilarious!"

You couldn't breathe. You stood there like a statue. He was only manipulating you and playing with you. All this time.

Tears clouded your vision as you walked away from them. The whole world looked like a big grey blur to you.

You still went out. Better than stay in the same building with him. Sitting on a bench in the nearby park, listening to birds chirping and watching dogs play with their owners was somewhat comforting. The pain in your chest was still too big though. How could you trust someone who's a 'God of Mischief' or a 'Prince of Lies' of all people? He really did go out of his way to make you trust him, didn't he? All those gifts, hugs, hanging out, watching movies under one blanket. All of that was just him pretending. And you believed him.

You groaned and hid your face in your hands. You're friends with spies and trained soldiers, what if they're pretending just like him and they secretly love when you aren't with them? What if everytime you talk to them they secretly wish for you to shut up and leave? Paranoia and anxiety just won't leave you, will they?

"It will get better after high school they said," you stood up from the bench, "you will be more confident they said. My ass-" suddenly you tripped over a string and fell on your face. Your right cheek stung, your knees were scraped. As you were standing up a wet tongue started to lick your face. A golden retriever's way to greet you, apparently.

"Ollie, stop! I'm so sorry," the dog was yanked back by his leash. Ollie's owner held out his hand to help you stand up.

"It's okay. It's my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," you dusted your clothes when you were finally on your legs. Ollie was jumping up and down, still trying to lick your face. Even through your emotional pain you couldn't resist and smiled.

"He's still an untrained pup, sorry if he's bothering," the unknown man was trying to calm him down once again, but you stopped him.

"He's not bothering," you bent down and scratched behind his ears. "Hi there little fella, aren't you one cute boy? Yes you are," you scratched and caressed his fur.

"He is cute, but quite handful. Still I wouldn't exchange him for anyone in the world."

"Anyone?" you asked.

"Yeah, you see I got him when I found out my partner cheated on me. I felt so betrayed I thought I'll never trust anyone else again," he said and sat down on the bench you were previously sitting on. "Sorry, I'm telling way too much than I should."

"No, it's okay. I know exactly how you felt. Something similair happened to me too," you looked away sadly and stopped scratching Ollie's fur. "That's why you got a dog? To replace that somebody who was previously in your life?"

He nodded. "At first I though I needed a pet to distract myself from the pain, but in reality all I needed was a life long friend who will never betray me. And what's better than a man's best friend?" he hugged his goldie and he licked his face.

You smiled. Maybe that's what you need. A loyal dog to keep you company. To give you emotional support through cuddles and to never leave you or lie to you. Unlike certain someone.

You chatted with him for few more minutes and then made your way to the nearest dog shelter.

*

The cutest little fluffy german shepherd was dozing off in your arms when you walked into your room. You naivly thought Loki will greet you and pretend to be nice again but he was nowhere to be found. Actually, none of the Avengers were nearby. 'That's okay' you thought. 'I'll at least be alone with this cute guy.'

You let him run around your bedroom, sniffing every corner of his new home, chewing on everything he could reach with his tiny snout. You threw him some of the squeeky toys you bought and watched him play. It lifted your mood, somewhat.

The dull ache from your chest didn't leave. Even when it got dark outside and your new companion dozed off in your lap. Soft laughter was coming from the party deck, which was quite far from your room so in reality it must've been much louder.

'So they returned, huh? Didn't even check on their supposed friend' you thought. Maybe you were right afterall. They never concidered you a friend.

Your phone started buzzing, a silly selfie of you and Loki lightened up the screen. 'What does he want? I don't wanna talk to him.'

You picked up. "Yeah?"

"Y/N!" hearing his voice nearly made you cry. "Thank Norns you finally picked up! Where are you?"

You squinted your eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

"I've been trying to reach you all afternoon! I couldn't find you anywhere and I have called you 5 times already. Are you okay?" he sounded worried. He really should've been voice actor.

"5 times? I didn't hear anything."

He groaned. "Yes, 5 damn times. You made me really sick with worry."

Liar.

"Whatever. I can do things even without you, you know."

"Why the attitude?" he asked a little less worried.

"You know what Loki? Do me a favour and leave me alone," you hung up sooner than your voice could crack. Silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

As you were standing up with the little pup in your hands and putting him in his bed Loki practically smashed down your door. You jumped back startled and nearly let go of your little friend who woke up and started barking.

"What the fuck Loki?!"

He looked at you, mix of fury and happiness in his eyes. "Okay, I don't know what I did that made you react like that to a simple 'where have you been the whole day' but you could've at least tell me you were going out. What if someone attacked you? And I wasn't there? What if-" he took a deep breath, anger leaving his eyes. "I'm just glad you are home and safe."

Liar.

Your puppy stopped barking and started wagging his tail, excited to have a new friend. He is just like you. Naive.

"Oh, and who is this little bundle of fur?" he reached out to pet his tiny head but you backed away.

"He's my new best friend. This is Rex."

Loki's face turned into confusion. "Darling, I thought that's my title," he laughed awkwardly.

You glared and hugged Rex to your chest. "Not anymore. Not after what I discovered about you."

"Discovered about me? What are you talking about?"

"Drop the act. I heard you. I heard you saying how I'm naive enough to think I'm your friend, how I'm bothersome and clingy and I was only good for you to get out of prison!" tears were flowing freely but you didn't care.

"Darling, what are yo-"

"I wasn't finished! I really thought you were honest with me. I thought all those times we hung out meant something to you! That you at least respect me. But no! You used me. You were pretending to be nice. All those times! And I believed you!" you started taking steps towards him, he was backing away.

"You misunderstood, I-"

"No! I don't want you to tell me anything! I'm not your plaything anymore! I grew a spine. And you can bet your ass I'm training Rex to bite you whenever you get close to me again!" his eyes started glistening but that must be just your imagination.

"Love, please let me ex-"

"Get lost Laufeyson," with those words you slammed your door in his face.

[dadsbongos]

Liebeskummer

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa: Killing Harmony Dynamic: Korekiyo Shinguji/Reader (and his sister shit but i actually take it seriously, unlike kodaka) Warnings: korekiyo’s backstory/trauma (his sister), sexual/physical/mental abuse implications (and outright said but not described in detail except the emotional and mental), anxiety in both kork and reader and mental breakdown(s?), airhead shit but it’s sad Summary: It’s all her fault. ~~~

Korekiyo suddenly turned to the girl beside him in his quiet research lab, “Have you ever heard of Jack of Fables, (Y/n)?” at her, albeit confused, nod, he continued, “Well, all those myths, fairy tales, and even nursery rhymes in reference to ‘Jack’ are actually about the same man. What this means is that Jack Be Nimble, of the candlestick, Jack the Giant Killer, who sold his cows then murdered and robbed a giant, Stingy Jack, who tricked the devil so relentlessly that he was banned from both afterlives, Jack of Jack and Jill, who cracked open his skull, Jack o’ Lantern, Spirit of Halloween and Headless Horseman, and Jack Frost, Spirit who ends autumn and begins winter are all one in the same. He made so many poor life decisions that he now serves as an immortal representation of winer with a pumpkin serving as head and flashlight. Is that not fascinating?”

“Aw,” (Y/n) grinned, nodding once again, “Like the American ‘Florida man’.”

Korekiyo sighed, disappointment palpable in his tone, “That is… actually much more accurate than I wish to admit.”

“Wait, wait,” she tilted her head, patting the man’s arm despite his attention already being on her, “So… like, was he also Jack the Ripper…?”

His eyes widened at her statement, “(Y/n), I must be grateful you were not born to the life of a woman of the night in Victorian London because I assure you, Jack the Ripper was incredibly real.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…” she pouted before clearing it back into her usual smile almost instantly, “Well, thanks for the folklore fun fact, Kiyo! I didn’t know that Jack was so dumb! God, I’d hate to be like him…”

“You do realize you’re not so bright yourself, yes?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine with that, but at least I’m not tricking the devil!”

So sweet and kind, the Ultimate Composer was. Against all expectations, she wasn’t highbrow or traditionally genius, but she was more than excellent company. And, to top it off, the idea of turning her into one of Sister’s friends was oddly… sickening.

It should’ve been perfectly fine - she was a deeply respectable young woman unlike Miu and Maki, there’s no reason he could have against her.

It just felt wrong.

“Oh! Oh!” she burst out, clapping her hands together, before turning and reaching into a bag slung around her hip. Rooting through scrapped sheet music and notes, once she found what she’d been searching for she held it up excitedly, “Boom!”

Korekiyo took the item, just barely brushing his wrapped fingertips against hers, “Cleopatra’s Pearl Cocktail… much appreciated,” he pressed the small bottle into a pocket on his uniform, “If you enjoy giving gifts, perhaps we can discuss cultural gift-giving practices?”

“Ooh, Kiyo’s gonna teach me?”

“Hmm,” Korekiyo hummed quietly to himself, “Well, perhaps… you would prefer I tell you of a composition piece in relevance to mythology, yes?”

“That’d be nice,” the girl giggled softly, rubbing the back of her neck, “To be honest, I just like when you talk… you sound so smart all the time!”

“My thanks, (Y/n),” he nodded curtly, muttering to himself before coming to speak up, “Alright, I believe that the composition for you would be The Ring of the Nibelung, of Germany.”

“Oh, I know that one!” she knew most ‘ones’, to be fair.

“I had suspected so, but have you heard of the heroic legends behind the pieces?”

“Ah, no… are those what you’re gonna explain?”

“I had planned to, yes. Alright, well, the four parts, as you know, are The Rhinegold, The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and Twilight of the Gods. Nowadays, they are most commonly played as individual, separate works despite making one complete story. They were always intended as a sequence - as The Ring cycle, cleverly. Each piece revolves on a loose basis to German heroic tales and Norse legendary sagas, with the overarching tale of the magic ring forged by the Nibelung dwarf, Alberich, which grants the power to rule the world,” he paused at the sight of (Y/n) yawning, his lips pursed and eyes shot down to his shoes before flickering back up to the girl, “Ah, my apologies for taking far longer than necessary. You must find this- “

“Ah, no!” (Y/n) shook her head, waving her hands about as though it would physically prove how far from needed his apology was, “That’s not it! I’m just kinda tired, ya know?” as if to prove her point, another yawn washed over her, “I hadn’t slept well last night after Kirumi…”

“I see,” Korekiyo nodded, closing his eyes to think over his words, “I apologize for making it about myself. If you wish, I could walk you to your dormitory. Now that you mention it, it has been quite the long day.”

“You don’t have to, Kiyo, I’d hate to bother you so much in one day let alone one sitting,” the composer puffed her cheeks out, “That’d be so obnoxious…”

“I don’t find it obnoxious whatsoever, especially if it’s to aid- “ he hesitated, “to aid a friend.”

He hadn’t had friends before. People usually found him creepy and that was the end of the story - nobody approached him and he didn’t branch out. Life went on. The world spun. His loneliness was everlasting and yet nonexistent. He has Sister. Though, deep down, he knows. She’s on another plane of reality with loneliness stronger than his, that’s why he sends her respectable young women.

Just like (Y/n).

But just… not (Y/n). For reasons he personally chooses to not disclose to even himself.

“Aww, Kiyo! You care!” the girl placed a hand over her heart as if to show that the organ itself was squeezing in delight at his offer.

“Of course, I do,” Korekiyo didn’t like how quiet she made him. How jittery and nervous. And he didn’t like how it made him question the way Sister made him feel.

She also made him nervous but it felt different. He liked to pretend it was the nervousness of a love you don’t quite have yet, but he fully knows he’d be lying. She was a mean girl, a bully in school before being hospitalized. Prone to violent and outright frightening outbursts when she had the energy to do more than force him to her side.

But he didn’t like questioning those feelings for Sister. Who he was, was based on her. His uniform. His passion and talent. His hair. His perfect complexion. His life as the universe knows it is an ode to her.

It’s too late for him to go back now… he’s already done so much in her name it’d be cruel to give up now. He might as well continue for Sister.

“If you really don’t mind, then yeah, I’d like it if we could walk together… I get a little nervous going around at night, you never know who’s gonna snap…”

“And you trust me?”

Shit. That’s what gets him in trouble. It’s as Sister always said. ‘Too naive to make his choices, and once he’s free, too inept to make the right ones.’

“Well, yeah,” (Y/n) spoke as if there was hardly any thought to the answer, “All you’ve shown me is somebody worth trusting,” then, she’s quick to remember poor Kaede, “Well, maybe I’m being silly. But hey, if I have to choose between dying trusting my friends and paranoid beyond myself, then maybe I’d- “ she paused, “Ehhh, I don’t like the way that’s coming out.”

“I understand what you’re attempting to say,” Korekiyo reassured, turning towards his research lab’s exit, “Let us start towards the dormitories, yes?”

“Right!” (Y/n) nearly found herself jogging to catch up to Korekiyo’s long-strided head start, she clutched the strap of her bag as she did so, “So… you heard about Angie’s plan, right?”

“To perform a resurrection?”

“Do you think it’ll work?” she seemed antsier than was typical for her, “I mean, you’re into anthropology, so, like, has there ever been a case where that did work? Do you know?”

“No, besides, that would be more akin to history, remember?” she probably didn’t, her memory failed her at an ungodly amalgamation of best and worst of times.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured and nodded, pretending to recall the difference between the two.

“Who would you desire back into this game, if you could?”

“Rantaro,” her answer was quick, her fingers looping together nervously, “We didn’t really talk much, but uhm, whenever we did - he was really nice. He said I reminded him of a sister of his… so that’s a good thing, right?”

Depends on who you ask, really.

“You grew attached to him so quickly?” there was no jealousy there, he tried to convince himself.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I’d gotten to know him more. He was always running around, trying to save us, and in the end… it got him killed.”

A lot of things will get you killed.

Korekiyo shook off the thoughts racking his brain, “Your care for him even through his estrangedness and peculiarity is truly beautiful, (Y/n),” he fiddled with the locket piece hanging around his shoulders, “Even your care for myself. I’d be lying if I’d said it wasn’t endearing.”

“You’re not…” her words died out, not wanting to lie to a dear companion of hers, “You’re a little off-putting but you’re not undeserving of love, Kiyo.”

It was a complete 180 from what Sister had told him his entire life. A new lesson coming in far too late. He had to earn love. He should’ve been crawling on his knees and pleading for affection, but now he was supposed to simply receive it? It sounded so incredibly fake. A fictitious tale told alongside gumdrop fairies and candy trees.

No place for someone of realistic standard.

No place for him.

“You’re far too kind, (Y/n).”

“Maybe you just haven’t known nice people,” she suddenly stopped, slapping a palm to her mouth and muffling against it, “I’m so sorry!”

“Worry not,” Korekiyo continued walking, “I’m unphased.”

Because maybe it was true.

Maybe Sister wasn’t so nice.

There was an itch at his skin in the thought and he shook his head.

Sister was kind enough to love someone like him. Who was of rotted soul and rancid heart.

“I shouldn’t have just said that, especially since I don’t really know your life…”

“Would you like to learn it someday?”

(Y/n) was fairly shocked at how quickly he seemed to breeze by her insult to his family and friends - well, if he had any friends - but she wouldn’t refuse. It was extra time with Korekiyo! Who could turn that down?

“I’d love to.”

~~

“Tea and cookies,” (Y/n) pumped a fist in the air, “What could be better than enjoying those with a friend?”

Korekiyo felt his lips twitch up behind his mask at the rhetorical question, he reached out for his teacup, “Perhaps freedom from this killing game?”

“Oh, yeah, huh…” she deflated, “Jeez, I can’t believe I’d say that…”

Oh, great, of course, now he’s gone and made the local ball of sunshine in this school upset.

“Nevermind that, (Y/n), it was a tease…” he gripped the cup a little tighter, cheeks heating up in humiliation at his failed joke, “I apologize if it seemed like anything other than such.”

“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine! It was kind of a dumb thing to say, now that I put some brain into it,” so it made sense she’d said it, (Y/n) frowned at the bitter thought.

“Ah,” the clink of a cup against the table caught the girl’s attention, “I must change my mask in order to properly enjoy this tea and these cookies,” as the anthropologist went to turn, he was stopped by another outburst from the girl.

“No, don’t! Uh, here!” she clenched her eyes shut, papped her palms over her face, and turned her head downwards, “See? Now I can’t!”

“You don’t have to go to such lengths, I could simply turn- “

“No, no, I want you to feel comfortable and I heard once that doing things to make your friends comfortable is, like, a way to make them like you more?” she huffed at the wording, “Just, I don’t know… I want you to know that I care. Ya get it? No need to turn yourself away like that when I can just not look.”

A tuft of air passed through his nostrils at the girl.

Sister would adore a friend like her.

Korekiyo pulled down his mask, brows drawn tight towards his eyes at the new realization. It was no longer a matter of her being respectable, it was now the knowledge that someone as tender-hearted as (Y/n) would be loved beyond comprehension by Sister.

But… no. Sister couldn’t have her. She’d understand, right? Of course. She could have someone else - the other bubbly girl, what’s her name? Angie. She could have Angie.

Korekiyo just… he just needed (Y/n). Something about her was calming and sweet. He picked his mask for eating from a pocket in his uniform and carefully adjusted it over his lips so as to not smudge his lipstick. It wouldn’t anyway, he knew this, but it usually never backfired to be too sure.

The lipstick in itself was quite the hassle. Another homage to Sister that she might not even be seeing. So was the hair. It got tangled and knotted and was hell to dry after a shower.

“Not to rush you at all, but are you done? Cuz my eyes are starting to hurt… I think I’m squeezing them too hard.”

“Right, yes, I am.”

He really shouldn’t think like that… Sister deserved to be honored.

As if she’d been reading his mind, (Y/n) leaned over slightly, pointing at Korekiyo’s hair, “Hey, hey, how do you manage that? It always looks so silky and soft and well-kept.”

“Ah, well, it is quite troublesome most days, but with patience and rather expensive products, I keep it together.”

“I was wondering, too, do you ever put it up?”

“Not usually, though, that would be… nice on occasion,” he sipped at his tea, enjoying the way (Y/n) shyly glanced away to prove she didn’t want to invade his privacy. She was too delightful to be in a place such as this, even if he did enjoy the beauties of law-absence.

“Uh, I don’t want to come off pushy or like you have to let me, but if you want, I’d love to put your hair up! To be honest, I’ve been wanting to for a while,” her eyes widened at her own statement, “Oh, that sounded creepy. I’m so sorry.”

“I am hardly one to judge,” he reached over for a cookie, “But, if you’re so inclined, I won’t protest.”

“Yay!” she bounced slightly in her chair, “Oh, that’s great, Kiyo, thanks.”

“Shall we go to your dorm after finishing our refreshments?”

“I’d like that,” (Y/n) grinned.

And to think she almost didn’t approach Korekiyo on that first day in the school. How ridiculous could she have been to judge based on looks? Sure, he was a little strange and the way he spoke was unlike any teenager she’d ever met, but he was still a person. He deserved to be given companionship.

Besides, he’d only ever shown her kindness and support.

He didn’t even make fun of her when she said something stupid in front of everyone.

She cringed at the memory of every time Kokichi or Miu or Maki prodded at her. Even Ryoma and Kaito had picked on her when she misspoke during the first trial and just brought up a point the class had already proven. It made her heart wrinkle and shrink at the mere thought. Kokichi still made fun of her for questioning Tsumugi’s whereabouts during Rantaro’s murder.

“You’re staring into your tea, it will grow cold if you only look at it.”

“Oh, yeah,” shaking her head, (Y/n) silently cursed herself for spacing out. What an awful habit of hers, it was, “Sorry for taking so long.”

“You shouldn’t apologize, I’m not upset in the slightest,” he felt his heart lighten at the tiny smile that illuminated her face, “I simply enjoy spending this time together.”

“You’re too nice sometimes, Kiyo,” she giggled, but they both recognized the tingle of nervousness jumbling within it, “If you’re not careful, I might fall for you or something…”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

I wouldn’t mind, she wanted to say.

If you’ll have me, he wished to murmur.

Then he felt his chest tighten.

“Can I…” he tapped a finger to the table, “ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Uhm,” she bit her lip as she thought back, “No… why?”

“How do you think it feels?”

“Like, you could be free and yourself around the person? I’m not too sure, but I think if you and someone else are in love then you’ll accept each other completely, you know? Sure, there’s flaws in every person, but I think you accept those, too.”

“I see…”

“Kiyo, why do you ask?”

“I…” his brows furrowed, “A lot has been on my mind as of late.”

“Alright, I won’t pry,” standing from the dining table, (Y/n) clapped her hands together, “Now, if you’re still down, I’d love to put your hair up!”

“As it stands, I am still, as you put it, ‘down’,” Korekiyo nodded before joining the girl and starting towards her dorm room.

“Nice!” she pointed directly ahead, “Now, onward!”

A total airhead at her truest, Korekiyo thought. He didn’t usually partake in the type, but something about (Y/n) just pulled him in tighter every time he tried turning away.

So, what’s the harm in giving in? Swimming against the tide only ever led to drowning anyway, so why fight it?

Sister… Sister was dead. Is dead. Resurrection isn’t possible and hasn’t been in human history. And she had changed so much of him. (Y/n) would never force him to bend to her ideal.

The more he thought about Sister in comparison to (Y/n), the more he realized that Sister felt like a ball and chain - and (Y/n) felt like a breath of fresh air.

Just her name inside his own head sounded as sweet as the best form of heaven.

“Here we are!” (Y/n) cheered upon their arrival to her room, “There’s probably a bunch-load of unfinished works in here so just… don’t judge them too harshly, okay?”

“I could hardly judge an unfinished masterpiece.”

“I don’t know about masterpieces…”

“If you create them with heart and soul, there’s nobody who can effectively say they aren’t except for yourself,” Korekiyo enters the room after her, legs carrying him towards her desk as she roots around her bathroom for a hairbrush and hair tie, “Sadly, this is also applicable to disasters with effort put into them. However, just from skimming these, I can tell you they are not such disasters.”

“Aw, thanks, Kiyo, you know - I know I’m the Ultimate Composer and junk, but jeez it gets so nerve-wracking when people hear my stuff. I like what I write, but who’s to say other people will?”

“I understand that. Showing others your work is extremely unsettling at times,” he followed the girl to her bed and sat between her knees on the floor, “I recall feeling that way when I would dabble in artistry.”

“You can draw?”

“I would when I was much younger,” he felt her fingers run over his scalp and through his hair and the weight looming over his shoulders practically melted off, “I haven’t held onto any of them, and they’ve likely aged poorly, but I know how I felt showing them around.”

“Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind my asking,” reaching around, (Y/n) threaded her fingers through Korekiyo’s bangs and, as gently as humanly possible, pulled the hair hanging over and around his face back into a slicked style.

“My… sister, she always rathered that I participate in anthropology with her. I wasn’t all that good anyways.”

“Aw, that’s kinda sad. Even if you weren’t good, you could’ve improved over time.”

“Do you truly believe that, (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I mean, talents are just developed over time, right? Angie didn’t pop out of the womb an art genius and I didn’t start off great at writing music, you just keep at it and eventually your skill level is way better than when you started.”

Sister always said he’d be garbage at drawing. Somebody like him could never learn.

She tied off and twisted until the bun was perfect - well, not perfect. It was presentable enough, and it was just a bun anyway! Not like they had anywhere to be.

“Sorry it’s messy,” she scratched at her cheek, feeling anxious that he’d be upset with her work.

“I…” he felt another little smile peek over him, it was indeed messy with stray hairs sticking out here and there and a few tiny bumps running over his head, but even so, “I love it.”

“You do?”

“It’s a gesture from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Standing beside Korekiyo at the mirror, (Y/n) twiddled her thumbs before spewing out her question, “It’s totally cool if not, but can I hug you? Sorry if that’s weird!”

“No… it’s…” Sister never asked to touch him, and now that he thought about it, she never seemed to care when he told her to stop, “That would be wonderful.”

As her arms slowly came around him, he felt truly at ease. With Sister, there was always this fear of never being what she wanted. That she hated him deep down. With (Y/n), it felt like finally being attached to someone you were meant to. Returning to a place of deep affection.

“You truly do care about me, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

“What kind of question is that?” she back-pedals, “I mean, of course, I do. You’re very dear to me, Kiyo.”

Maybe even a little too dear, considering the current climate of the killing game.

But even so, neither of them pulls away. Neither cares enough to wrangle themselves from indulging in the other’s touch. It feels too good against their skin.

It’s then that Korekiyo’s brain strikes the flint to create the burning thought - maybe Sister wasn’t all that great. Maybe Sister didn’t love him.

She’s only ever made him miserable, now that he recalls it all.

(Y/n) doesn’t. She makes him feel human and alive and adored. He likes the way she makes him feel. And between the two, he much rather would be praised than berated.

~~

Oh God, what did this mean again?

Where do the creation myths go?

Who’s Princess Kaguya?

Her head throbs at the thoughts rumbling through her. She tried to get Korekiyo to get someone, anyone, but her to organize his notes.

Shuichi would love this stuff! You two should bond!

Gonta could learn about being gentlemanly from you! It’d be a great learning experience!

I know you don’t like Miu that much, but maybe spending more time together could make you understand each other more?

Anyone.

And yet, Korekiyo denied. He liked spending time with her. He wouldn’t mind answering every question she had - no matter how many times she asked it. He was a patient person, he could handle it.

(Y/n) looked at all the books and stray papers surrounding her alike, bottom lip tugged between her teeth in focus and face beating hot in vivid embarrassment. He wasn’t even looking at her, thank God, but still… it was so mortifying that she’d already lost track of what she was doing.

She tried so hard to pay attention, she really, really did!

She wanted to help so bad. She wanted to be useful so bad.

But she knew… she’s not a smart person, per se. It was beaten over her head repeatedly her entire life by her family, schooling, peers, and even her friends. She was an idiot who couldn’t do anything right.

It’s why she wanted Korekiyo to ask someone else.

But how could she say no to him? He was always so nice, it’d be downright mean to refuse him. Right?

She felt her eyes burn, vision growing blurry through tears. Setting down the papers in her hands - (Y/n) covered her eyes to keep any wetness from splotching the notes below. It was the least a fucking moron could do.

“(Y/n)? Are you feeling okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She nodded shakily, just wanting Korekiyo to ignore her and continue his work. Better yet, he’d kick her out and she could dodge the incoming humiliation altogether.

“Yeah,” her voice cracked, lips trembling.

Goddammit.

She heard papers rustling before she could feel the presence at her side. Fingertips just barely grazing her body before hesitating back, “You’re lying.”

Understatement of the year.

“I just… I’m so sorry, Kiyo. I’m such an idiot, I knew I couldn’t do this,” she whimpered, desperately trying to grab and suffocate down her bubbling sobs before they wracked her throat, “I’m too fucking dumb to do anything right… I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re no idiot,” he’s immediately slammed with every memory of every time he’s called her such a thing. No matter how nice he tried to be about it, he still aided her insecurity, “I’m sorry for ever saying you were. Intellect is not measured by how well you can do a task nor should everyone’s mind be measured the same. Intelligence is fickle and is spread over a vast variety of subjects. You’re not an idiot for not being able to do something you’re not accustomed to.”

“I just… I- I wanted to help you but then I forgot everything you said about organizing them and then which regions are which and what even is a gorgon?”

He chuckled quietly at her question, “A creature in Greek mythology most commonly in reference to three sisters - Medusa, Euryale, and Sthenno - with hair made of living, venomous snakes that turned those who so much as looked upon them to stone,” he glanced around at what (Y/n) had gotten done, “I see that the filing in relation to music is nearly completed for your half.”

“That’s about all I’m good for.”

“And I would not have managed that so easily, music was never an incredible strength of mine - though I do admire it.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kiyo…”

“I would never,” he moved his notes away to sit more comfortably next to the girl, “In fact, if you’d be willing to listen…” his throat tightened and heart thumped in his chest, “I would like to tell you of something that’s been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Yeah,” she wiped away her tears, sniffling, “of course.”

“I told you of my sister, correct?” he waited for her nod of confirmation to continue, “Well, it’s my belief that…” his fists clenched.

What if she didn’t believe him? What if she blamed him? How do you tell someone your older sister raped and abused you when you’re barely even coming to terms with the fact yourself?

“(Y/n), I…” he stopped, gut bunching in knots before he suddenly ripped down his mask and turned to face her, “I think I need help…”

“What? You’re just wearing lipstick, Kiyo, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, no, no, no,” he shook his head, hands shaking wildly as he pulled out the ponytail (Y/n) had done up earlier and yanked through his hair, “E-everything I am is because of her! She consumes me even in death! She- she- she hurt me…”

“Oh,” the girl moved to sit up on her knees, hands reaching out but not yet touching him, “What happened, Kiyo? You can tell me, I’m listening.”

“She told me I was an awful boy, nobody but her could love someone so foul and creepy… she- “ he moved to grip his sleeves, “She touched me,” he looked into the girl’s eyes, “Is it my fault? Am I so disgusting? Why would she do this?”

“Do you want me to hold you or no?” at his shaky nod, she instantly took Korekiyo into a hug, cradling his head and shoulders to her body and stroking through his hair, “You’re more than what she made you. You’re bigger and better than her manipulation. And it’s not your fault she did what she did. It’s completely and totally on her. She took advantage of you, Kiyo, that’s not your fault.”

He grabbed her arm and pressed his face into her shirt as she held him, “Am I rotten? Am I lovable?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re worthy of love and care.”

His lipstick smeared over her shirt and across his cheek and neither of them minded. It would wash off eventually. Her stain on his life would come out.

“When we get out,” (Y/n) began again, “do you want to seek professional help? You can get it, Kiyo.”

He was slow to nod, beginning to grow tired from dosing out tears and trauma at once, “I do… thank you, (Y/n)...”

“No need to thank me.”

“(Y/n)?” she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, “Even if it isn’t for field work… I wish to travel the country with you. I want to show you the beauty of humanity as I know it… for our sakes.”

Looking down, (Y/n) caught the gentleness in his eyes, tender and soft and awaiting her response, she smiled softly, brushing back his hair, “I would love to, Kiyo. If it’s truly something you want to do, I would be happy to go anywhere with you.”

~~

Nighttime was quickly approaching and with the atmosphere and turmoil of the class, (Y/n) didn’t feel very safe being out so late.

“You’re certain you don’t wish for me to walk you to your room?”

“No, you finish up here,” (Y/n) waved off Korekiyo’s offer, “Don’t be such a worry-wart, yeah? I’ll be fine! You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, though.”

He nodded, a small smile stretching over him, “I will, dear (Y/n), don’t worry.”

The girl’s eyes widened slightly before she returned his beam, “You have a cute smile, Kiyo.”

“Oh,” right, he didn’t have his mask on at the moment. It was refreshing to wake up and not trouble himself with makeup for a woman he wasn’t sure even cared - dare he say it, it was nice, even.

He’d only taken his mask off around (Y/n), it felt intimate. Sweet. Something passed only between them.

“Thank you.”

She nodded before turning back and pressing outward from his research lab, “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Kiyo! You better have the sweetest dreams, ya hear me?”

“You as well.”

He returned to cleaning up his lab, occasionally stumbling over a floorboard looser than the others. How troublesome.

That’s when her voice picked up from within his brain.

“You never loved me.”

He looked around despite knowing exactly where the voice was coming from.

“You let her do this to you. You let her take you from me.”

Pushing past them, he persisted in rooting through his notes and organizing his papers.

“She hates you. She’s scared of you. She’s just trying to be nice. You scare her. You scare all of them. You rotten, rotten boy. You’ve been ruined - only I could love a face so hideous and broken. A horrible, horrible boy lucky enough to be given the love I did.”

His hands shook, fingers twitching and heart thrumming heavy, “No. (Y/n) likes me. She enjoys my company.”

“Why would she enjoy the company of someone so lonely and depressing? So gross and foul? She probably hates you for partaking in your own sister’s touch.”

“No, she- she doesn’t… she knows it’s not… it’s not my fault…”

“Are you inside her head? How do you know? How are you certain? I’m the only one who ever loved you - and you’ve abandoned me. Left me all alone.”

“No, I- I haven’t abandoned you, Sister! Please, believe me, I never abandoned you.”

“So, you know what you must do to prove yourself to me.”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like that…”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like you anyway.”

She’s right, right? She’s right. Someone as wonderful and beautiful as (Y/n) could never adore him the way he does her. He loves her and she must find him repulsive. Staying out of fear.

Out of pity for the boy abused by his sister. And so, who better to return to than the more predictable of the two?

(Y/n) may have felt more like coming home than Sister - but Sister was home. (Y/n) was comfort. Sister was familiarity.

He found his foot planted against the loose floorboard once again. He knew how he had to make up for his misdeeds and abandonment.

~~

“I’m truly relieved to see that you got to your room safely,” Korekiyo murmured to (Y/n).

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she pointed over to their local gentle giant, “Gonta and I crossed paths on my way and he wanted to walk me to my room and I just couldn’t say no to him. It’s nice to have someone you trust in this ‘game’. Well, other than you,” the elevator jumbled slightly as it dove down into Monokuma’s makeshift courtroom, “I trust you, obviously.”

She shouldn’t. And he wants to tell her that.

But as Kokichi and Shuichi take glances at him from across the elevator, he knows that she’ll figure things out soon enough.

And, during the trial, when Shuichi’s convicting Korekiyo of the murder of Angie Yonaga and Tenko Chabashira - she does. And she cries and screams and throws a fit. Demanding Korekiyo to fight back harder. Demanding Shuichi to stop lying and get serious. Because Korekiyo would never kill somebody.

He was nice. He was a gentleman. He cared about people. He had stolen her heart - and a man who managed that wouldn’t kill anybody. So, of course, Shuichi was lying.

“Do I have to remind you of what’ll happen if you don’t vote?” Monokuma bit out.

(Y/n) clutched at her hair - she knew what she had to do. But every time she went to vote for Korekiyo, her body wouldn’t let her.

Reaching over, the boy himself took her hand in his, “Allow me,” as he guided her hand over her voting panel. No matter how she swatted at his hand or tried to wrench herself from Korekiyo’s grip, he pressed her vote into his name.

She was forced to watch as he was strung up and spun. Made dizzy and sickly. She was made to watch as he fell into the melting pot. Fires eating at his body until he was no more than spirit.

As Monokuma and the sister who had harmed him so horrifically worked as one to rid the world of his soul.

Eyes went to (Y/n) as the execution subsided. Her sobs and hiccups drawing everyone’s attention.

Gonta was the first to approach, a large hand settling on the girl’s back as she cried, silently taking her into a hug.

Her heart wrenched, fingers squeezing at Gonta’s suit and throat rubbing raw with her wild wails.

He could’ve gotten help. He could’ve gotten out with everyone. If she’d just stayed with him then she could’ve done something. Angie and Tenko would be here. Korekiyo would be here.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kaito’s voice peeked through, “Don’t cry because he’s gone, (Y/n). Move forward - for both of you.”

“I…” she shook her head, choking on a sob, “I don’t think I can…”

Shuichi placed a hand on Kaito’s shoulder, “Just give her a little time.”

As the group moved out of the courtroom, Gonta stayed by (Y/n)’s side up until she clumsily made her way into her dorm room.

Immediately, she collapsed into her bed sheets. Dreading tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. And so forth. Maybe she should’ve known better than to go around falling for a guy in the killing game. Maybe she should’ve held herself up in her room all alone.

There was no escape from this feeling. No hiding. It may get better over time - but Korekiyo would always be gone.

A buzz at the door caught her attention. Her movements were sluggish, honestly just hoping that whoever was there had given up and left by the time she finally answered.

Shuichi stood there, classically uneven, anxious smile and all, “I think there’s something you might be interested in? If you’ll follow me.”

No verbal response was given, only (Y/n) stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her to give him her confirmation.

He began towards the casino. With a sigh, (Y/n) was about to tell Shuichi off - she didn’t need to start gambling to get over Korekiyo’s death - until he stopped in front of the building.

“I mostly just wanted you to get some fresh air,” he says earnestly before digging in his pocket and pulling out a key with a heart-shaped handle, “I got this from here. You can get your own or keep this one, I think you need it more than I do,” at her confusion he continues to explain, “It can take you into this weird dream-like state where you can see what ‘ideal’ you play in our classmates’ minds… I think you know who I gave this to you for.”

“Kiyo…”

“Yeah. You can see him again, if you want.”

She wanted to be strong and push the key back into Shuichi’s hand - instead, she just looked between him and the key in her hold and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Shuichi…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Sleep well, (Y/n). I know you can grow past this.”

Because he did.

“I’ll try.”

But he wasn’t her. And Kaede was gone far before Korekiyo. And their grief was not the same.

“Thanks again, Shuichi.”

“Just take your time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

~~

Her knees felt like collapsing under the weight of her nerves, hand falling to the doorknob of the hotel room.

She pushed through her anxiety and found herself in a red-tinted room, a large heart-shaped bed in the center with a merry-go-round circling it. Then, she found Korekiyo standing to the side.

What would his ‘ideal’ version of her be? A friend? An out-of-touch acquaintance? A lover?

Her heart throbbed at the last possibility.

“Ah, my dear, back so soon?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m, uhm, not sure?”

I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.

“Then don’t,” he seemed to glide across the room, taking the girl’s cheeks in his hands, “You’ve always had a problem with that, my love.”

My love? My love.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” she huffed at her own word selection, “Oh…”

Korekiyo chuckled quietly, pulling down his mask to kiss her forehead, “I already took my medication while you were out.”

“Your medication?”

“Yes, from the doctor. You were the one who pushed me to go, have you forgotten?”

“Right! No, no, I just blanked,” she quickly lied, giving the boy a broad grin, “I’m glad, though.”

“It’s only medication, dear.”

“Still,” (Y/n) reached up to cup Korekiyo’s cheek, “it’s good that you’re following through with your meds.”

“Your support always helps,” he pressed another kiss to the girl’s forehead, “We’ll be leaving early in the morning tomorrow, I should warn you,” at her furrowed brows he explained, “In order for us to catch the first train to Iwate prefecture. Did you forget, darling?”

“Wait, wait, let me guess…” she waited for his nod before tossing out her suggestion, “We’re traveling for field work!” she was then quick to tag on, “As a couple that’s, like, super in love?”

“You didn’t forget at all, my love,” Korekiyo pulled away slightly, and sat on the bed, removing his shoes, “You play that memory of yours down too much. You’re far more intelligent than you think.”

“You think that?”

“Of course, I do. It’s not just because I love you dearly, either. You mustn’t let the words and actions of others control your opinion on yourself - you’re better than they say.”

This is his ultimate fantasy. He’s her lover. They travel and see the beauty of humanity together, just like what he said he wanted. He loves her. He thinks she’s so great.

He’s wrong.

She should’ve stayed with him that night.

He’s wrong.

She could’ve done so much to keep him with her.

He’s dead.

Because she should’ve stayed.

“Kiyo,” her eyes burned and began to soak, “I’m sorry!” her lungs rapidly expanded and contracted with her sporadic breaths, her hands clutching at her shirt. Her knees finally buckled and she collapsed to the ground, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a stupid, stupid, stupid failure! Please… forgive me…!”

Korekiyo immediately stood up and rushed to (Y/n)’s side, bringing her into a tight hug as she fell to the floor, his fingers running through her hair. He kisses at her temple and cheeks, waiting until her cries settle enough for him to be audible in the room, “It’s interesting, dear, I first realized I’d fallen in love with you in a situation similar as this. I desired to comfort and reassure you just as I do now. You’re not stupid nor a failure, and I adore you above all else.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) only began to cry harder into Korekiyo’s chest. This could’ve been their future. This could’ve been what they had to share and hold between only each other. If she’d only stayed. If she’d been with him that night.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“It wasn’t you,” she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep back her cries, “I- I- it’s all my fault… it’s all my fault…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, darling,” Korekiyo held her tighter, “I love you, my dearest (Y/n). No matter what you’ve done, I will always forgive you.”

And once again, her tears only came out harder. Her head pounding ruthlessly at the ache and consciousness fading out in her exhaustion. Korekiyo was dead. And no amount of her tears could ever bring him back.

[cazimagines]

After seeing @toobruhlforschool post the article, I had to translate it!

English translation by google translate below the cut

Daniel Brühl tried for the first time as a director - and he succeeds very well. His debut “next door” (in theaters July 15th) is full of black humor about how embarrassing, tricky and exhausting it can be to be a famous actor. Especially when you meet a neighbor in the corner bar in a Berlin neighborhood, played by Peter Kurth , who obviously hates you. The story is based on Brühl's idea, and very vaguely on his own experiences, from which the writer Daniel Kehlmann draws("Measuring the World") has made a script in which the price of fame is demonstrated with relish. In addition, allusions to Daniel Brühl himself are hidden in the film, who not only directed the film, but also plays the protagonist, a famous actor, in “next door”. Brühl, who last worked in the international Marvel series “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier” , speaks in an interview about what made him decide to make this story into a film and how to approach such a project.

Interview with Daniel Brühl: About the price of being in public and the success of projects

Mr. Brühl, in your directorial debut you investigate the price a successful actor pays for being in public. Why did you want to do this film?

One topic I've always been interested in is gentrification. The initial spark was an observation I made in Barcelona. That was about ten years ago. I moved to the city for a while. That made me very proud, because I've always felt very connected to Barcelona, ​​I was born there and finally wanted to say: “I'm a Barcelonian now”.

Instead, did you attract attention because the actor Daniel Brühl was recognized?

No, I just acted very silly, always walking through the streets with my key fob to show that I don't live in a hotel, I'm from here now, then I always talked loudly to the people in the market where Street, via FC Barcelona et cetera. Then I always enjoyed going to such a lunch spot and one day there was a crusher in front of me, such a real edge, and looked at me piercingly without blinking. Forever long. Like Clint Eastwood.

Just like in your film a man from the neighborhood, played by Peter Kurth, who takes on an actor who is very similar to you.

Yes, with the man in Barcelona back then, I immediately felt that he couldn't take me. As I sit there with my trolley suitcase, just flown in from Berlin. The jet set that somehow rattles around loudly with the waiters, makes each other mean and wants to please. That totally exposed me. Then my imagination started. I thought it was a scaffolding builder who had been able to look into our apartment from a construction site for months and now wants to confront me with everything he knows about me.

How do you relate this story to gentrification?

There is such a constant feeling that you are not to blame for gentrification but are part of the process. I've been dealing with this since I've lived in Berlin and I noticed it again in Barcelona. Then the mind game started that an actor, someone who is in public, offers a completely different surface to attack.

How do you translate that feeling into a project?

I enjoyed the way such a person was approached in a masochistic way. As he is told, “I found your film poop. I think you shit as an actor. " Then I moved the story to Berlin, the East-West topic was added, but at some point I realized that I couldn't write it alone and approached Daniel Kehlmann. He could do something with it immediately. While we were writing we noticed how much more was there. That was around the time some public careers were collapsing. That was an interesting component, people who outwardly have perfect lives, whose careers are ruined by rumors that come out about them.

Which personalities are you thinking of?

Well, of course the case of Kevin Spacey, the very different case of Harvey Weinstein. There have been many cases, some of them based on real crimes. It became an interesting topic for me because I wanted to play someone who would completely lose himself in his career and then be held up in the mirror.

If so much of you went into the script, why is Daniel Kehlmann the only one who has the credit and you don't?

There are so many Daniels. At some point I just felt uncomfortable reading my name so often. In addition, Daniel Kehlmann did the most on the script. I couldn't have made the film without him. That a Kammerspiel (From what I learnt in my film studies, Kammerspiel is a certain type of German cinema) remains exciting for over 90 minutes depends on the dialogues and they mainly come from him. I was a sparring partner who fed him ideas.

You have had a veritable career as an actor for over 25 years, appearing in blockbusters and playing a leading role in an international Netflix series. Then that's a fundamental step in deciding whether to direct. How do you manage to take such a new path?

You can't take a quick shot. I've been waiting for the right time, but you can't let it pass. That's what happens when you're too scared, too respectful. At some point you have to trust yourself. Now that I've done it for the first time, my humility towards directing is even greater. I consciously wanted to do something small. I would not have believed myself capable of certain other substances. Then I would have the feeling that I am falling out.

How do you know that you are on the right track and that you can get started with a project?

If an idea remains interesting for you after long deliberation and reflection, and does not suddenly become stupid or boring, you can ask yourself whether this idea is reasonable, i.e. whether you trust yourself to implement it. I knew this was a world and that there were characters - I just know my way around that. If you are also lucky enough to be able to set up a good team, then you are on the right track. It is of course a total luxury that someone like Daniel Kehlmann has promised me to write this. Peter Kurth replied with a handwritten letter within 24 hours. We met and hugged in his local pub.

The role actors and actresses play in public is not only the topic of your film, but was also discussed in the course of the #allesdichtmachen campaign, a campaign against the measures taken by the federal government to contain the corona pandemic. Were you also asked about this?

I was actually not asked, but I know many of those involved. I wanted to stay out of this heated Shitstorm number and clarified that privately with those I know. I not only found the action unsuccessful, but also the counter-action excessive and absurd. I can see that in many areas at the moment, how quickly such a thermal rises, which is toxic. That's a bit of the theme of the film.

Then again quickly an easier topic: What is the most absurd thing that has ever happened to you as a public person?

Haha, a scene that also made it into the movie. In Barcelona a couple came up to me in a park, two blondes, with a camera in their hand. It was immediately clear to me that they were Germans and they wanted a photo with me. I instinctively put my arm around the woman. They were Swedes, of course, who didn't recognize me at all, but wanted me to take a photo of them. It was so embarrassing and even more terrible than in the film because then I started to explain in English “You know, I'm a famous actor…” The way they looked at me! Haha, that was one of those moments when you notice how you blush. Well then I think I could tell you about embarrassment for an hour.

[jennibeultimate]

Personal recap Worlds 2021 - Men SP

If you thought I won't do it then you thought wrong 😂

King Yuzu slayed! ❤️ 🥳🥳🥳

Just look at this picture by Joosep Martinson, it says all about the fire 🔥 and energy of the program. Such an entertainment! No score can tell what performance that was. German commentators in ARD One and ESP both said this was the best SP ever skated. Well then....here is the disappointment, it doesn’t have the best score. 😕 106 enough for first but imo the PCS could have been way higher (only one 10.0 - c'mon he deserves all the 10s). Especially when Nathan receives just 1 point less for a program with a fall and just half the choreographic content...but what is new??? Overall I am just really glad Yuzu skated clean. The rest is not in his power.

Shoma why such a silly mistake? 😭 Program is superb! Loved it ❤️

The energy, the fire was all there but what a silly place to fall. A 3A of all jumps Shoma really??? Daniel Weiss (German comment on ARD) gushed all the way about how Shoma deserves high 9s for his skating, because of what he can do with his skates. And yeah I think the mistake costed on PCS. I think if Nathan can score 46 PCS with a mistake that would be very well justified for Shoma too and Shoma did a way better interpretation...Anyway I think the score was well enough for a mistake and I am super glad he made the last group. And he is not a SP skater anyway. So pls no silly mistakes in the free! 🙏And actually all that matters is that Shoma found the fun in skating again. Two years ago he probably would have been heartbroken with such a skate. Today he smiled and even joked in the interview arena. I love that. 😍

Photo by Asahi

Yuma Kagiyama was superb. 👌What a SP debut. The security was insane. 💯 was well deserved. You go Yuma! 🥳 Amittedly not a big fan of the music but the way he did the program was amazing! I am really sceptical though if he can maintain that carefree attitude he portrayed in the free skate...if he can then congrats kid you probably earned yourself a medal. 😊

Now the gushing about Team Japan is done. I could say a lot more though. 😅

Where to start with Nathan? The fall was really unexpected, you could just see it rattled him a lot. Until the combo was done there was hardly any commitment to the program. I already said his PCS were too high imo but with world champ bonus this was expected. And actually if they give a youngster debut 43 PCS how can they give Nathan with his reputation less? Is it right? No, but that's how reality is. In general ofc Nathan had the hardest layout, the BV was still there hence he didn't drop lower. I don't agree on Nathan's score but this is not his fault. And dammit ppl celebrating Nathan's fall are just mean. Again the scoring is not his fault!!! I absolutely wouldn't have predicted Nathan in 3rd.

Keegan Messing delivered! So happy for him! Canada is on a good way to earn a 2nd spot! 🥳 Such a lovely charming program from Keegan! ❤️ Last group probably a thing he didn't expect to see...

Mikhail Kolyada: The only reason Misha doesn't have an arsenal of titles is that he is one of the skaters with the most stupid mistakes all the time. He didn't put the full risk and a 4T combo he can do in his sleep probably, but nope mistake. This could have broken 100 and would have deserved it for the choreography, the way it was performed, the skills of Misha, but those silly mistakes...argh. I think they will keep him off podium because skating clean is not in Misha's repertoire...sorry to be so harsh but it's really upsetting that this talented man cannot deliver his standard. I am only so harsh on him because I know he can do more. I love the program for Misha though 😍

Jason Brown was scored like I actually would score Jason...not in comparison with what others got though like Nathan and his PCS (sorry Nathan that bugs me you see, not you the judges ofc) It's probably a very unpopular opinion but imo his scores are usually too high 🤷‍♀️ (His GOEs are often comparable to Tutberidze's ladies) So actually I am fine with Jason's place...I am not a fan of the program I liked many other SPs better of him but I know many ppl loved it and it was perfectly fitted to the music and Jason did super well but it's just not my cup of tea. 😅 (don't stone me!) I do like Jason very much though as a person and a skater, I may be just less euphoric about Jason!

Kevin Aymoz did well. He has some cool moves going on. I am not sure if I like the program or not but I love to see him perform. And I am super happy he made such a good skate because his last appearance I witnessed on Euros 2020 was heartbreaking. Well done Kevin! 👍

I have never seen Junhwan Cha so secure like he performed here! 👏👏👏👏Probably the first time all worked really well and he didn't receive URs, everything was perfect. 👌

Some other pleasant surprises of today were :

Lukas Brigtschi - good program and musically well performed, he improved a lot through a year 👏👏👏

Nikolaj Majorow - the cartwheel was cool. The energy and the program were fun to watch. 👏👏👏

Han Yan - so glad he is back. This gliding, those arm movements - wonderful. 😍 😍 😍

Deniss Vasilijews - they should have given him more PCS. 😤 He was so good. 🤩

Donovan Carillo - this ray of sunshine deserves the world! ❤️

I am always glad to see Alexei Bychenko and Michal Brezina. They may not skate perfectly. But at their respective ages the can still fight with the youngsters! Admirable!

I am very sorry for Boyang Jin. It just didn't go well. I am glad to see he gets help by BOrser but I wonder if the coaching change happened too late?

I am not a Vincent Zhou fan at all but no one deserves a skate like this. To not make the free was right but is tough. I am sorry. Only in the men discipline can a skater be a medal contender and not qualify. Who would have guessed this?

Good luck for the free skate for everyone!

[staticscreenwriting]

Wonderful tonight // F.M.

Synopsis: Reader is Pope’s sister and her and Frankie have been dancing around each other for years. Now Pope is getting married and emotions are running high and Frankie and Reader are both single at the same time for the first time ever. It’s all about the longing, the yearning. 

A/N: This entire thing was inspired by that picture of Pedro in the header and how handsome he is. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I rewrote this story about 5 million times. If you like it let me know if you don’t then you can also let me know if you want. I did run this through spellcheck but it’s not really edited. I don’t have the time, honestly. Just ignore mistakes, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ One day I’m gonna stand right over there. I’m gonna wear an expensive suit and shiny shoes. I’m gonna get my hair done real nice, and probably have a flower pinned to my jacket. My hands will be clammy and my heart will be racing. There will be flowers, lots of them, all over the garden. We'll have a musician playing acoustic guitar. All my friends will be there, and — and our entire crazy family. And I’m gonna get married to the love of my life. Right here. And things will be good. People will be happy.” 

“ Mom will probably be crying. “ 

“ Oh for sure. “ 

As she steps out into the garden, (Y/N) can’t help but let her mind wander back to that one summer night a long time ago. Pope was fresh out of high school then, about to move out and start the rest of his life, away from home. Nights like these, sitting in the garden of their childhood home and sharing silly stories and hopes and fears, were numbered. That’s the thing about having siblings, it really only occurs to you how important they are to you when you’re faced with the idea of a life without them. So they sat there, on the steps of the porch, ice-cold cans of coke in hand and hearts open and vulnerable. Pope had never shared any of his dreams with her, not like this at least. But maybe him leaving home made him feel nostalgic too. 

Her eyes meet his across the aisle and he smiles at her with his signature Santiago Garcia smile, the one that’s gotten him out of so much trouble when he was younger, the one that looks so much like their mother’s. An ocean of flowers surrounds him, just like he said it would. And their entire crazy family has taken their seats, ready to watch him get married to the love of his life. (Y/N) has always been proud of her brother's achievements, in and outside of the army. But she’s never been more proud than today. 

Will softly links his arm with her’s as they walk down the aisle to take their respective places as bridesmaid and groomsman. The air is filled with the soft melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar and the perpetual scent of peonies. The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain knows that life isn’t like the movies but maybe, she thinks, sometimes life grants us a little moment in which we get to relish in a bit of that magic that makes those films so enchanting. 

Just as she’s predicted all those years ago, her mother is crying. Big happy tears roll down her blushed cheeks. If we’re being entirely honest, neither (Y/N) nor their mother had really believed they’d ever see Pope up there, wearing an expensive suit and shiny shoes and waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle so he can marry her and start their happily ever after. Then again, ever since he was little Pope always found a way to get the things he wanted if he only set his mind to it. The sky was and still is the limit for her brother and that is something (Y/N) is infinitely envious of and wonderfully amazed by at the same time.

As they reach the front, Will lets go of her arm and walks right to stand with Pope and the groomsmen and she walks to the left stepping up beside the maid of honor.

It all goes so fast from then on, one more bridesmaid and groomsman, the flower girls, then the bride. She looks gorgeous and she’s smiling the biggest smile. It’s one that just radiates with pure unfiltered joy. And there’s love in her eyes. So much love. The way she looks at Pope leaves no doubt about her feelings for him. It’s the most basic of all human emotions and yet the most complex to grasp though at that moment, in her eyes and his, it’s so clear to see and so easy to understand. 

(Y/N) feels her heart do a little stutter as she allows herself, for the first time that day, to let her eyes wander towards the row of groomsmen. This is, by all accounts, a bad decision that’s only gonna hurt. Self-destructive behavior is something she’s pretty good at though.

Frankie stands next to Pope like a rock, sturdy and determined and ready to catch him if he were to stumble or fall. That is something so enigmatic about Frankie. As flimsy and unpredictable he can be when it comes to himself, he’s incredibly loyal towards his friends and loved ones. He does not falter, does not shake. Not for his loved ones, never.

The dark blue suit looks good on him, it fits him like a glove and it must’ve been expensive. Though (Y/N) can’t help but feel like something is missing. This isn’t the Frankie she knows. The one she —. Granted, it’s been years but still, there’s something funny and peculiar about Frankie in a fancy suit. 

His lips are pulled up in a small, gentle smile. One that makes a comfortable warmth settle in (Y/N)’s heart. This man is both so familiar and yet so complicated. He’s been a constant in (Y/N)’s life for a long while now, ever since the first time Pope brought him around for dinner. Even without any blood relation, those two are brothers through and through. Will and Benny too. Those four, forever bound to one another by the horrors they’ve seen, the pain they’ve felt, and the family that developed along the way. 

(Y/N) loves those boys, they are as much a part of her family now as they are of Pope's and yet, something about Frankie always felt different. From the first moment, their eyes met, the air filled with a strong magnetic pull. Invisible but palpable. It was always special. Always. Frankie is the kind of guy one can call at 3 am because you’ve heard a scary sound and don’t feel safe and he’ll jump into his car and come check it out for you and protect you, no questions asked. And he never wants anything in return. He just gives because that’s what his heart tells him too. The world, (Y/N) thinks, needs more people like Frankie.

He’s not without his issues, far from it really, and (Y/N) can acknowledge that. But the sum of his faults does not undo the size of his heart. Somewhere along the way of their friendship things changed. It was a gradual change, slow and steady like water down a stream. Glances lingered, hands kept brushing more frequently and the air held a perpetual sizzle of static. Though neither of them ever admitted it, they both knew it was there. Hell, even the boys, foolish and naive as they could be, noticed. It was a well-known secret.

If life really was a movie, the two of them would’ve gotten a happily ever after by now. A dance on a rooftop, a kiss in the rain, a soft indie song leading them into the end credits. A gentle epilogue to a slow burn romance.

But life really isn’t a movie. Everything seems to be working against them. Mostly time and cultural conventions. This man is her brother’s friend. Her brother’s brother. You don’t date your brother's friends, that’s like an unwritten rule. But time is probably the worst of their enemies. It never seems to be on their side. They’ve never been single at the same time. Frankie went through several more or less serious relationships and while (Y/N) hasn’t found anyone to settle down with permanently, there’d been men she lent her heart to.

Last year, just a few weeks before Pope swept his band of merry men off on their suicide mission to Colombia, (Y/N) moved back home after ending a 3-year relationship. Dave was — he was nice. Nice and secure and stable and boring. Something about him felt too squeaky clean. That night, looking at old pictures of herself and the boys that were proudly displayed on the fireplace in her parent’s living room, it became abundantly clear to her that Dave wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Dave wasn’t Francisco. She’d really set her mind to it then, to pull herself together and muster up the courage to finally seek a conversation with him about the elephant in the room they both had refused to acknowledge for so long. She’d been determined. Then Pope dropped a bomb on her.

“So Frankie and his girl are having a baby.” 

And from that moment on she refused to let herself entertain any thought of her and him having any kind of future that went beyond being friends. It hurt, god it hurt like hell. But dreaming of things that could never be wasn’t doing her any good either.

Seeing him now, looking all snazzy in his suit and smiling, it sends a familiar shive through her body and makes the moths in her stomach go crazy. If only life was a movie. If only.

The ceremony passes in the blink of an eye. There’s happy tears, lots of them but love shines brightly through it all. Every glance, every touch, every word spoken. As her brother and his new wife make their way down the aisle, (Y/N) dares to take another glance towards Frankie and, for the first time that day, he’s looking back.

The world doesn’t shift or shake right then, doesn’t spin out of its axis. Nothing fundamentally changes but the air feels different. The electricity is back. The magnetic pull. The undeniable attraction. Just like that, they are both thrown back into this everlasting limbo of what-ifs.

(Y/N) looks away before her heart can break further, knowing what could’ve been and what can never be.

Weddings have this strange side effect of making you think about your own romantic entanglements. It’s not necessarily a bad thing or a sad thing. It’s just a fact. Seeing other people’s love being displayed so prominently, being celebrated, it makes you wonder. Will I ever find this kind of love? 

“ You know, I think you and I gotta have a talk.” Pope’s voice holds a certain edge to it, a teasing tone she’s heard so many times growing up.

“ About what? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife right now? “

“ Ah, she got caught up in a conversation with her aunt, something about corgis. Once that woman starts going there’s no stopping her. It’s — it’s a lot.” 

“ And you left your wife behind to fend for herself? What a way to start life as a married couple.” 

Pope gives her a chuckle and their silly banter makes (Y/N) feel like a kid again.

“ So I’m gonna need you to talk to Fish. “ 

“ Huh? “

“ Oh don’t play dumb. I’ve known you your whole life, kiddo. I know when something’s going on with you and something is definitely going on.” 

“ What’s my emotional turmoil got to do with Frankie?” 

Her older brother raises his eyebrow in mock offense. As if to say “you really think I’m that dumb?” 

“ You two have been throwing looks at each other all day whenever you think the other isn’t looking. Subtlety really isn’t either of you's strong suit. “ 

That, (Y/N) thinks, must be absolute nonsense. Frankie’s got a girl and a baby, there’s no reason for him to sneak glances at her. Clearly he’s gotten his happily ever after already and it doesn’t involve her. Pope must be delusional. Must have a head filled with cotton candy and all things rose-colored.

“ You’re on a wedding high, my guy. There have been no looks. “ 

Her words are met by Pope shaking his head in frustration. “ Look, I just — just please go talk to him. This dancing around each other is very high school drama and I love you both which is why I can’t watch this going on any longer. “ 

“ What are you saying?” 

“ That if there’s something there worth um — worth exploring, you don’t have to worry about me or my opinion on it. “

If anyone had ever told her those words would ever leave her brother’s lips, she would've called that person crazy. Not that they change anything, he’s still got a woman at home and a baby. But still — it’s nice to know that if things had worked out differently, Pope would approve.

“ Are you saying that if I wanted to date Frankie — which I don’t, but like let’s pretend I did. Hypothetically. You’d be okay with that? “ 

“ (Y/N), “ Pope says and his voice dips lower as his expression grows more serious “ I love both of you. I just want you guys to be happy. “ 

Before either of them can continue the conversation, the bride steps up beside them, throwing her arms around Pope’s middle and facing (Y/N) with a big, radiant smile on her face.

“ Sorry I had to interrupt but I needed to get away from aunt Lisa and her Corgie stories.”

“ Nah it’s okay, don’t worry I uh — I gotta go talk to someone. “

Pope smiles at her in return and a silent understanding passes between the two. Maybe the story wasn't all that hypothetical after all.

Much to (Y/N)’s delight, Frankie sits alone at the table. His suit jacket is lazily thrown over the back of the chair and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. This looks more like the Frankie she knows. The one she loves. Effortlessly cool and yet so undeniably charming. 

Sliding onto the chair next to his, she can feel her heart speed up with anxiety. She shouldn’t feel this way around him. Underneath all the feelings, this is still her Frankie, one of her best friends, a member of her little family of misfits.

“ Hey, you. “ her words are soft, delicate, almost as if she’s afraid of saying them. And maybe she is. A little bit at least.

“ Hey, stranger. Long time no see.”

His voice is dark and soothing but there’s an edge to it, a hint of teasing. 

“ Mmh. It’s been a while. “

“ Yeah, and with the way you’ve been avoiding me all day today, it makes me wonder if I did anything wrong. “ 

Oh god.

“ Dude, what’s it with everyone thinking I’m avoiding you? I’m not. “ 

“ You sure about that? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in question.

“ Yup. Just been a — a busy day. I’d never avoid you, I missed you. “ 

At least the last part of that statement is factual. She’s missed him terribly. 

“ I missed you too “.

There’s a truth in his eyes, a grounding honesty that is so hard to come by in people. Whatever words fall from his lips they are deliberate and he means them 100%. It’s something (Y/N) has always admired and appreciated about him. 

“ Sooo … I was hoping you’d bring a plus 1 today. “ 

“ Huh? “

“ The baby ! “ 

“ Oh. Oh, I think it’s way past her bedtime by now. She’s uh — she’s with her mom. “ 

“ Do you have a picture? “ 

Frankie scoffs, “ One? I got a bunch of ‘em. How much time have you got? “ 

As he pulls out his old battered leather wallet, (Y/N) can’t help but let a smile take over her face. It’s so fitting that he would carry the pictures around in his wallet instead of having them saved on a phone. Frankie was never the guy to get all obsessed with having the newest technological gadgets. Though he was smart as hell and good at navigating any and all electronic devices, he never felt the desire to own a smartphone himself only having caved and bought one a year ago when his old phone died on him. 

“ That’s her. Just celebrated her first birthday. “ 

The girl in the picture is undeniably Frankie’s daughter. She’s grinning up at the camera with his exact smile only she’s missing a few teeth still. Her eyes are the same soothing shade of brown and are rimmed by the same thick black eyelashes. She’s gorgeous and something about seeing her sends a pang straight to (Y/N)’s heart. What if …

It was one thing knowing that he was a dad but actually seeing his baby and realizing that’s his new reality, it’s strange. And while (Y/N) is happy for him, a part of her has a hard time coping with that realization. What if things had worked out differently, could that have been her life too?

“ She’s adorable. “ 

“ Yeaaah, “ Frankie replies and shrugs his shoulder casually, “ guess I did a pretty good job there. ‘s the first time in my life. Only thing I ever did right. “ 

Though he tries to shake it off and veil his words with a tone of mockery, (Y/N) can see right through him. The self-depreciation has always been a point of contention to her. How he can not see how wonderful he is, how loyal and sweet and loving, is beyond her.

“ Shut up, Frankie. Except for my brother, you’re the only guy I know that would drop everything to help me paint my kitchen at 1 am on a Tuesday. You’re so sweet and funny and I have not a single doubt in my mind that you’re an amazing dad. Stop selling yourself short. “ 

For a moment a quiet settles upon them that is neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. And then Frankie looks into her eyes again and the moths are back going haywire. If only her future lay in those eyes, oh how wonderful yet foolish of a thought. 

“ Ah, I don’t know. Her mom doesn’t seem to think so. Left just before her first birthday. I mean — “ he sighs and takes a sip from his bottle of beer “ things between us hadn’t been good for a while and a breakup was inevitable. It’s just that I wish I could see the kid more. She’s my heart. She’s my everything. I want to be good enough for her, you know? So one day she can be like that’s my dad and he’s a pretty alright guy. Not that’s my dad, the ex-addict unemployed pilot. “ 

“ Frankie. That kid's gonna love you so much, now and forever. Because you love her. That’s all that matters. When you think about your childhood, do you think about your parents’ jobs? No. You think about how much they loved you and the good memories you had with them. “ 

Frankie stays silent for a moment, just looks at her with his big brown eyes, and then — then he smiles. 

“ Can I tell you something? “ 

“ Always.” 

“ When she was born. When the doctor let me see her and hold her for the first time. I wanted to call you. You’re the first person I wanted to talk to about her. I was so fucking terrified at that moment because she was so tiny and the world is so big and scary and I don’t know how to not fuck things up for her and how to protect her from it all. And you, when I’m with you I never felt scared, ever. You’re so good at making me feel like I can do everything and at making me forget about my own shortcomings. I wanted to call you so bad. “ 

“ Then why didn’t you? “

He averts his gaze for a moment, as if it’s a secret that weighs heavy on his heart. One he hasn’t told anyone before. One he isn’t sure he’s ready to share.

“ Didn’t wanna bother you. “ 

That’s not the truth. She can tell immediately. Frankie is a lot of things but he’s not a very good liar, at least not to the people that know him very well. Though she doesn’t push the situation any further. 

“ Pffsh. Bother me …” 

“ Didn’t think your boyfriend was gonna be okay with me calling you in the middle of the night. “ 

“ Well fuck him. “ 

Frankie raises his eyebrows in surprise. “ Huh “

“ Yup. “ 

“ Didn’t work out? “

“ Nope. “ 

“ Why’s that? “ 

Cause he isn’t you. That’s what she wants to say. That’s what rests on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be spoken. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t have the guts. There’s an overwhelming sadness about getting your heart broken at a wedding and it’s not something she wants to experience today.

“ Just didn’t work out. Realized he wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “ 

“ So you’re not gonna be the next one inviting me to a wedding and making me wear a stupid fancy-ass suit? “ 

“ No way. First of all, you look hot in this suit and you know it. Second of all, nah. I feel like this isn’t in the cards for me. I want —  I want a guy that I can call at 3 am to get chocolate chip pancakes at the diner and that will run through the garden sprinkler with me when it’s hot outside and that will ask me to slow dance at a wedding even though the song that’s playing is super cheesy and overplayed. Dave was sweet and he was secure but I always felt like something was missing. I loved him but we were never friends. I think that’s what I was missing. “ 

Their eyes meet again and a shiver runs down her spine. There’s a tension in the air so thick one could cut it with a knife. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, one that passes in the blink of an eye, there’s the courage she’s been looking for for so long. The one that helps her push the words from the tip of her tongue and speak them. For the first time. Finally.

“ Frankie, he wasn’t y— “ 

“ (Y/N), Darling. It’s time for your speech. “ 

At that moment she wants to strangle her own mother. That courage? It’s never gonna come back. This was her one chance and it’s not gonna come back ever. Oh god, what is Frankie gonna think? What’s gonna happen to their friendship ?! 

“ Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll just. Okay yeah. I’m coming. “ 

She doesn’t dare even as much as glance back at Frankie. Though before she makes her way over to her seat where the mic is already waiting for her and the speech she’s so meticulously planned, she hears him call out to her.

“ (Y/N)! “ 

“ Hmm…? “ 

“ I lied. I didn’t call you when the baby was born because I thought It was extremely inappropriate to call the woman I’m in love with while the mother of my child is recovering from giving birth. “

The moths in her stomach are gone now. There are bats now. Maybe a swarm of birds. Something bigger than moths for sure. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire and simultaneously being splashed with ice-cold water. Her heart is beating faster and her hands are clammy and all she can do is stare and get lost in his eyes and his smile and this moment that seems unreal.

“ Honey? “ 

Her mother’s words break the spell and (Y/N) follows her to take her place at the table. The mic feels heavy in her hand though everything else feels weightless. Maybe, she thinks, this is what love should feel like. Weightless. Easy. Magical.

There’s a piece of paper in her sparkly clutch with a long and sentimental speech written on it all about love and finding your soulmate and all that stuff that, until today, she always felt like she didn’t really know anything about except for what they tell you in the lovesongs on the radio or the rom-coms on tv. And yeah maybe it’s still too early to feel like the world is an entirely different place now but those words he said, she’s been waiting for those words for over a decade. If there was ever a moment to romanticize her own life, to relish in the feeling of being loved, and to celebrate her own successes, it’s today.

The pre-written speech stays in the purse. Instead (Y/N) takes the mic and starts talking. Straight from the heart.

Across the room, her eyes meet Frankie’s and all she can do is smile, for it’s the first time in a long time where her future isn’t so scary. It’s exciting. Maybe everything else that came before was just the prologue and her story is just now about to really begin.

“ Hi. I’m (Y/N), I’m Santiago’s sister, and uh — I wanna talk to you about love. “ 

Weddings are hectic and busy affairs. There’s something going on at all times and it’s impossible for (Y/N) to find even a second to have a proper conversation with Frankie about — well everything. So much time had been wasted between them, on keeping their feelings locked up and trying to find the right moment. Now the moment is here and the conversation doesn’t seem so scary no more. Now the only thing that stands between them is this wedding. There are speeches then food then cake then more speeches then a picture slide-show one of the bridesmaids put together then then then. It’s never-ending and though it’s fun and (Y/N) enjoys celebrating her brother’s love, she wishes time would pass quicker right then. If only for once, time could be on their side. 

Only when the newlyweds have left the venue to spend their wedding night at a fancy hotel nearby and most of the guests have cleared too, (Y/N) finally finds time to sit down and just relax for a moment. No speeches to listen to, no uncles who insist on getting one dance with her, no bride who needs help holding up her dress while she pees. Just calm and quiet and —

“ Can I have this dance? “ 

His hand is reaching out to her and there’s a nervous smile playing on his lips. There’s something quite intoxicating about it all now that she knows he feels the same. All the anxiety is gone and replaced with hopes and dreams of a future that now seems like it might actually happen. One that’s been a “What-if” for so long.

“ It would be my pleasure. “ 

Neither of them is a particularly good dancer but it doesn’t matter right then. All that matters is that they get to exist together at that moment and in their little bubble. That they get to be close and sway left and right as Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful tonight” echoes through the room.

“ That song is so cheesy and overplayed, “ (Y/N) exclaims, “ I love it. “ 

Frankie places a soft kiss on the top of her head and it sends her heart into overdrive. Is this what the lovers in a Jane Austen novel felt like when their hands locked for the first time, just a fleeting whisper of a touch?

It feels exhilarating and (Y/N) feels alive and like nothing is missing. Everything and everyone is right where they’re supposed to be.

“ You ever thought Pope was gonna end up actually getting married? I didn’t see that one coming to be honest. “ 

(Y/N) leans her cheek against his chest as they keep softly swaying to the song. A tiny content smile settles on her lips.

“ Actually, yeah. It was always part of his plan and you know him, if he sets his mind to something he usually ends up succeeding. “ 

Frankie nods in response. “ Talking about your brother, we had a uh — a conversation earlier.” 

“ Now why in the world would you do such a thing? “ she jokes though not for a second does she lift her head off of his chest. He’s warm and soft and she can just about make out his heartbeat. This feels too comfortable to disrupt it for even a second.

“ He kinda implied that he wouldn’t mind if you and I — “ 

He stops, considers his words, rearranges them. 

“ If we what? “ 

“ Started dating? That sounds wrong, that makes us sound like teenagers. “ 

“ You know, it’s funny because he implied something awfully similar when I talked to him earlier. “ 

“ Huh. weird. “ 

“ Ya think that maybe this, “ she says and gestures between the two of them “ is also part of his plan? “ 

Frankie shrugs and moves his hand to her jaw, softly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“ He always gets what he wants, guess we can’t break the chain, huh? “ 

“ Guess not. “ 

They’re so close. So unfathomably close. His warm breath falls onto her skin and he can smell the flowery scent of her perfume. The air around them sizzles with electric anticipation. 

Back when she was a kid, (Y/N) was obsessed with the Disney Cinderella movie. Everything about it felt so magical and wonderful and life held the sweet bliss of childlike wonder and innocence. And then she grew up and witnessed her heart breaking over and over again. 

Now that she’s standing here, in the arms of the man she’s loved for so much longer than she can remember, she thinks that maybe the movie wasn’t all wrong. Yeah, maybe it’s an overly sugar-coated fairytale where happy endings are guaranteed and things get fixed with a song and the help of some critter sidekicks. But the underlying message of them all, the most fundamental truth of them all is that love is worth believing in even when life gives you so many chances to lose hope. 

Just like the fairy godmother has said: Even miracles take a little time.

This kiss, warm and gentle and passionate, is a miracle in itself. If only for the fact that it has taken over a decade for it to finally happen. His lips meet hers and the world spins faster and slower all at once. If this was a movie, they’d probably show a montage of all their happy memories throughout their years of friendship, all the longing glances, and flirty touches. But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. She’s really dancing with him. He’s really kissing her. 

She doesn’t have to imagine any of it anymore because it’s happening right here and right now and life is so much better than any movie or romance novel or cheesy pop song. They can never live up to the real thing.

Neither of them wants to pull away though eventually their lungs demand oxygen and they reluctantly detach their lips. 

“ You think we should, give this thing a chance? “ 

Once again there he goes being so casual. As if this is not a decision that’s been in the making for such a long time now. An accumulation of years of longing and wishing and hoping and constantly missing the right moments and bottling up feelings.

“ Francisco Morales, I’ve loved you for a long ass time now. I am not letting you go anytime soon. Ain’t no getting rid of me, buddy. “ 

“ Good, I’m not planning on it. And I love you too, by the way.“ 

They seal it with a kiss and life feels like it always did only — better. Everything feels so damn right. The what-ifs are gone and in their place now stands a future worth looking forward to. One filled with adventure and happiness and love.

“ Hey, (Y/N)? “ 

“ Hmmm ? “ 

“ You wanna go get pancakes at the diner around the corner? “ 

“ With chocolate chips? “

Frankie scoffs “ Duh. What a question. “ 

There’s a lot of comfort to be found in romantic media though as they walk outside the venue, hand in hand and matching smiles on their faces, (Y/N) thinks that every once in awhile life itself makes for the best movie, the most magical moments and the greatest love stories. 

[angelaiswriting]

The Contest (7 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N finds herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf​ had)

✏️ A/N: I made it! Many thanks to Alice for some ideas, and to the swipe keyboard on my phone that didn’t kill my stupid hand. I know I always say oh I’m such a hoe for XYZ, but I truly am for Dominic Brunsmeier lol bye. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this ride like I did!

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only (oral m/r for once hehe)

✏️ Word-count: 3,120

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

After the few, very tense days the guys had given Y/N to sort her thoughts out, the day had finally come for the winner of the pussy-eating contest to be announced.

Keeping away from them had proved to be quite the feat and although she had managed to keep them in line for longer than she had thought possible, she had somehow succeeded. The only exception had been Dominic, of course, but she had been prepared for that; it had been no surprise. Just as it hadn’t been unwelcome.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he had complained that afternoon, his lips mere millimeters from the skin of her neck, sure of the fact that he’d be crowned as cunnilingus lord before midnight.

He had relented, though, and that never-faltering pout of his didn’t leave his lips until work got busy and tore him from her side.

Now, however, she was sitting in the same common area the contest had been, for lack of other words, signed and with those five pairs of eyes fixed on her, she felt slightly out of place.

They had waited for the other operators to leave. They didn’t need to know about the little game that had been going on while they had been on their missions, just as the contestants didn’t need to feel any kind of weird way about anyone else knowing. Not that they would feel embarrassed, of that Y/N was sure — she knew who she was dealing with, she was no fool — but she still appreciated the privacy. For her own sake, most of all.

“I don’t know what to say,” she chuckled eventually in the otherwise gravelly silent room. The television had been put on mute and the football match the boys had been watching earlier had already been long forgotten. “I didn’t think much about making a speech.”

Never before had she felt the strong impulse of hiding behind something, anything, as she did now. She had done things with them — or, well, they had done things to her, to be precise — just as she had never been embarrassed of talking about sex. Hell, Dominic brought her dirty talk to the next level!

“But I did think of a surprise for the winner,” she continued before anyone could speak, hanging on her every word as they were. The box in her lap felt heavier than it actually was, and if anything, it was comforting to know that the winner’s crown she had come up with on a last-minute lightbulb moment was just as silly as the contest itself.

“Is that something I can use on you?” The smirk Dominic threw her way positively managed to make blood rush to her cheeks. She knew what that look in his eyes could mean, and she found herself impatient at the idea of finally being able to have all of him, and not just his mouth, again starting tomorrow. He had been pissed for a few couple of hours after he had seen his best buddy leave her room with his clothes in his arms and just a towel around his hips — and then when he had seen her wet towel robe on the floor of her room —, so it was good to know that his moody blues had passed.

Elias snorted. “You seem convinced you’re the one who’s gonna win.”

“I’m not gonna win, I have already won,” the other scoffed.

Alexsandr said something, then. Something under his breath that got swept away by the other men’s childish bickering. But also something that sounded an awful lot like they had all won by having the chance of going down on her. It was sweet, in a way, and although she wasn’t sure she had understood his muttered words right, she still smiled a sweet smile at him.

But although he had always been sweet with her, the memory of the things his mouth and fingers had done to her still made the palms of her hands turn clammy and the skin of her cheeks burn.

“There’s no need to bicker, children,” she scolded when Timur pleaded with her with the look in his eyes. “The winner hasn’t been announced yet, I can still change my mind and make you lose points.”

Dominic and Elias shut up at once and almost comically, they whipped their heads in her direction at the same time.

“Don’t be mean, baby.”

“And you don’t test me, Domi.” But she still smiled at the childish pout this burly man gave her.

“How did you give points?” asked Marius, yawning behind his beer. He still hadn’t had the time to recharge completely after his mission and the position he was in at the moment — laid back against the couch, his legs up and crossed at the ankles on the coffee table — made it clear that he was about to fall asleep right then and there.

She shrugged. “That’s for the judge to know. All you need to know is that the prize is this majestic ammo crown —” she laughed as she took the ammunition belt out of the stolen shoebox in her lap — “and another round with me. I did promise that, after all.”

The discussion was sparked again and she let the men poke each other for a while before calling for silence again.

“I will cut this short because this contest has been dragged out long enough.” She rose to her feet and laid the now empty box on the armchair she had been sitting in. “Some of you misbehaved,” she pointed out, throwing Dominic a playfully pointed look. “Most of you tested my rules’ limits. I won’t talk about your performances, I’ll just crown the winner and call it a day. Any sort of complaint before we proceed?”

She trailed a finger down the back of Dominic’s neck when she stopped behind him and he tensed under her touch. And although she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was grinning in anticipation.

They all stared at her — all but her man, of course — and she took her time to swipe her gaze over all of them. Marius, half asleep, had been sitting the closest to her armchair. Next to him, Elias could barely wipe that smug smile of his from his face. Timur seemed shy tonight: he had been quiet ever since they had been left alone to that closing ceremony of sorts to their contest, barely opening his mouth to speak. She smiled sweetly at him, but when her gaze landed on Alexsandr, her smile turned into an amused laugh.

“You’re such a man child,” she shook her head as she moved over to stand behind him, unable to calm her laughter down at the smooches he was playfully miming. “I can’t believe this is how the winner gets crowned.”

The ammunition crown fit snugly around his head — and it wasn’t by accident: she had felt like a special agent spy sneaking into the Russians’ locker room in the armory facility to take some measurements of his helmet.

“I’m going to add cunnilingus to the Lord on my shield,” he said with laughter in his voice when she leaned forward from behind and her hands interlocked against his chest.

Just as those words had left his lips, muttering ensued and although they all wanted to complain one way or another, it seemed like they respected her too much to keep it up for long. They pouted — Dominic more than the others, his arms crossed against his chest — and they sat back against their seats in silence.

“Don’t take this to heart,” she smiled eventually, standing up straight and digging her fingertips into the muscles in Alexsandr’s shoulders. “You all know how each of your performances went, and they were all really good. But you all agreed on proclaiming a winner, so here we are. Don’t come at me for having to pick one.”

“Yes, but the old man also won more head.” The others joined in on Elias’ defeated groaning, but no one voiced the additional thought they shared: That’s not fair.

Marius was fast asleep when she looked over at him and hadn’t it been for Alex’s hand wrapping around her wrist when she made to pass by, she would have probably moved over to him and covered him with one of the blankets strewn over the back of one of the other couches.

“I will have to pass that opportunity on to someone else, though, sweetheart.”

She frowned her brows at him, but she didn’t miss the way Dominic’s eyes seemed to spark up at the Russian’s words. “What?”

“Eh, I can accept any kind of death but not one caused by a German,” he shrugged, turning his head to look at Dominic. “The poor man has shared you enough.”

When Dominic slipped into her room behind her, some time later, after some more talking (and complaining) in the common area, it was approaching midnight. They had all drunk a bit — Alex had insisted on a few rounds of vodka to celebrate his victory and his huge, selfless heart — and now Y/N felt nice and warm all over.

Dom, however, was still groaning half-heartedly under his breath and although he didn’t accept another man’s charity, his hands still grabbed her hips from behind and pulled her back against his chest.

“Come on, baby, you know I couldn’t let you win,” she smiled, pressing her ass against his pelvis before forcing him to let go of her so that she could turn around. “You know they would have complained about me cheating to make you win.”

He pouted and huffed, and leaned his head down to hide his face in the crook of her neck.

“You know you’re the only one I want between my legs,” she cooed, hands coming up his arms before her nails gently scraped down the back of his neck.

“But you and Marius…”

She chuckled. “Nothing happened, it was all in here,” and she left a kiss on the side of his head. “I did help him shower after you motherfuckers didn’t give him time to rest after his mission, but he only ate me out.”

“No sex?” His voice had the tone of a petulant child and it made her smile. It kind of gave her heart a squeeze, to see this fearless soldier worrying about the woman he wasn’t even official with having sex with someone else.

“Of course not! Why would I?” He let her pull his head back so that they could stare into each other’s eyes, then. “I’m sorry we played along and let you believe something more happened. It was just a silly way of getting back on you for being so insistent with him, I promise.”

“You’re cruel. Both of you,” he huffed. He still pecked her lips, however, and she smiled up at him.

“At least you got the most valuable part of the final prize, though…”

“By chance!” He picked her up with a grunt that tore a laugh out of her.

“It wasn’t by chance. I’m sure they would’ve all passed not to anger you,” she replied, caressing the back of his head as he laid her down on her bed. “The contest is over. They know you’d snap their fingers if they accepted.”

His groan vibrated against her cheek. “They’re all horny fuckers, they wouldn’t have said no. Bones heal, and two broken hands give you more time on leave, which is always nice.”

“Well, I’d still run back between your legs. That must count, no?”

“It does,” but he was already growing unfocused as his hands moved down to the elastic waistband of her yoga pants. “Now let me claim my prize and then we’ll see if you’ve been forgiven.”

She laughed at his antics but before he could understand what she was doing, she had pulled him into a hold and had reversed their positions.

“Since it’s just you and me, maybe another kind of payback would be more appropriate,” she smirked, sly, “don’t you agree?”

He tilted his head up and stared down at her, at her fingers playing with the button of his jeans, a smirk of his own slowly stretching on his lips. Her hands moved, then, and her cold fingers slipping under his t-shirt and gliding over the skin of his abdomen made his muscles tense as he shivered slightly.

“You were made just for me,” he muttered under his breath when her hands moved south again and made quick work of the button and zipper of his pants.

She chuckled. “I still don’t give in easily, though.” She pulled him up into a sitting position, then, and before he had the time to open his mouth to complain, she was murmuring in his ear, both hands tugging on the hem of his shirt: “Take this off, let me see your tattoos.”

He was quick at complying, tearing the piece of clothing from his body in one swift, fluid movement. She was on his lips right after, his head cradled in her hands as she ground down against him. Slow, unhurried, his hands moved from her hips to up her back, underneath her shirt, and when she gasped lightly at the goosebumps his rough skin caused, he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

It was almost lazy, and for a few minutes, they sat like that, with her in his lap, slowly grinding against his growing erection as they kissed. Then, when he pulled on her lower lip and bucked his hips up, she pulled back, pecked his lips once more, and pushed him back down on his back.

She kissed down his body. Down his neck, his chest, and then back up to his throat — kissing, licking, sucking hickeys on his inked skin. When she eventually reached the waistband of his pants and she looked up at him with a smirk on her lips, she found him already staring down at her, both arms under his head.

She giggled at the sight and before she could focus too much on the throbbing between her legs, she hooked her fingers under both pants and boxers and dragged them down his legs, dropping them to the floor.

He was hard. Hard and thick, arched up against his lower abdomen. For a moment, she was back to a few days ago, when he had come in his hand right next to her, a rough fuck leaving his lips as his back arched. He had been a sight to behold, that was for sure, and when she looked up at him now, she found that one of her hands had absentmindedly slipped into her pants already.

“Fuck, I missed this,” she groaned, grabbing both of his thighs as she moved to lie down between his legs.

“Me or my dick?”

“Both, you silly!” she chuckled, right before she licked a stripe up from his left ball to the tip of his cock.

He sighed, and in her peripheral vision she didn’t miss the way his head leaned back against the mattress when her tongue teased his slit.

“Just don’t tease,” he half-begged, half-warned, the fingers of one hand brushing against the back of her right one, still holding onto his hip. “I won’t last.”

“I’ll behave,” she hummed, lips pressed right under his glans. “Or I’ll try to, at least.”

He groaned his light frustration in a string of huffed German, but he eventually tried to relax back and spread his thighs a little wider for her.

Her thumb came up to smear his pre-cum around, and she proudly smiled at the hissing inhale he took at the sensation.

“Always so sensitive,” she hummed, that same thumb now tracing the rim of his cock’s head.

It was hard to focus when all she could think about was that sensation of fullness, of having him thrust up slowly into her in his usual attempt at driving her crazy.

When he begged her to take her clothes off, she didn’t have to be told twice: she pulled up, hastily removed her clothes, and just as her lips wrapped around his glans once more, two of her fingers moved down to her clit and then the wetness at her entrance. She groaned against him, tongue teasing his frenulum before her hand moved back up and her slick fingers wrapped around the base of his erection.

“Fuck, you touching yourself?” he groaned as one of his hands moved to lay on her head.

She took him deeper into her mouth, giving in to his silent request, and hummed her answer around him. His hips bucked and as she set a rhythm to the bobbing of her head, alternating between that and suckling his head, his moans grew louder, his breathless cussing more frequent.

He was gone the moment she took his balls in her hand, and she did her best to relax around him as he twitched in her mouth and ejaculated down her throat. Her name left his lips in a breathless plea and she almost missed it, lost as she was in his orgasm and in the insistent feeling growing inside her.

She suckled on his glans once more after he had finished ejaculating and she chuckled when he pulled her up and off of him.

“That was fast for your standards,” she giggled, giving him one last lick from base to the slit in his tip and watching him shiver.

“Shut up.”

She kissed her way up his body, then.

“You’re cute with your face all red,” she smiled, pecking his lips and moving her legs so that she was straddling him. “I sure missed that these days.”

After that, she let him catch his breath and when he opened his eyes again, his breathing now even, she didn’t miss the spark of mischief in his smirk and eyes.

“Maybe we should do another contest,” he said slowly, hips bucking up against her. They both moaned at the sensation, and his hands came down to her butt cheeks and squeezed them. When she hummed in question, his smirk grew into a grin. “A cock-sucking one.”

“You’re dreaming!” she laughed. “I don’t share what’s mine, you prick.”

His expression softened into a smile and his hands trailed up her spine, fingertips soft and barely-there, forcing goosebumps in their wake. “So I’m yours?”

“Did you have doubts about it?”

He shrugged one shoulder and smoothed the frown on her forehead with his thumb. “Nah, it’s just good to hear you say it for once.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892  @mblaqgi​ @becs-bunker

[lordeasriel]

Do you have a take on what Phillip and Vera’s daemons would be? Or any of the other guests’ for that matter?

Hehehe yes I do, I've been waiting for this question for so long lmao I'm working on a new fic that is ATTWN written by the Agatha Christie of Lyra's world so I had to come up with daemons for all of them.

I'll start in reverse order, from Vera to Marston, since you asked about her first anon.

For Vera, I was torn between a brownish/greyish owl and a marmoset. I really can't imagine any other Vera than Maeve Dermody, and because appearance is important when thinking about Daemons (because daemons lend something of their animal form to the human, ie 'a serpent daemon usually has a human with a serpentine vibes' this was said by Philman in an interview), I think an owl would have suited her. She has big eyes, that are always darting around; she's often immobile, observing her surroundings. However, I think that a marmoset suits her better because Vera has a Hannah Relf quality to her (another marmoset daemon, in case you haven't read the HDM books). It's that silent attitude, keeping to herself, wary of her surroundings and while she seems weak and fragile, Vera is not afraid to act or reacts extremely if the situation calls for it. She is also very shrewd, and I chose the marmoset for her because there is something so appealing to see Vera, big eyes and shrewd attitude behind a mask of silly girl, with a daemon clinging to her neck, observing the room, tiny and silent, but just as clever as she is.

For Lombard, and this one was a no brainer, he has a panther. Show! Lombard would have a black panther, because it suits Aidan Turner's looks; for the book, it would still be a panther type, but a spotted leopard one. Book! Lombard is more earthy than Show! Lombard, hence his daemon having a lighter, more brown palette. As for the reason, there wasn't a lot of thinking when I chose this; in the book, Lombard is described many times like a panther: dangerous, lithe, moving quietly about the house. Everyone in the house feels this vibe and they know he is dangerous, and he sees them as prey (because one of them is the killer and he is just waiting to catch them). I think for a man like him, having a big, dangerous daemon, is very suitable. There is also something of Asriel in him, both in the show and book, so it's fitting they have the same/similar type of daemon.

For Blore, I knew it had to be a type of dog. Everything about Blore screams "barks more than it bites", and while he can be assertive and take control, he always defers to people if they say the right thing to him. Book! Blore would have a boring, but bigger dog, I imagine; he is described as a big man, and he has a very thuggish attitude. Maybe a German Shepherd. Show! Blore is more sleek and clever, less thuggish more alert and paranoid, but also more in control. He dresses nice, is rather vain specially towards his skills, so I gave him a black poodle, a small one though. Blore, although assertive, always is overwhelmed by Armstrong and Lombard, both men that have a bigger presence and willpower than he does.

For Armstrong, I was torn between weasel and a badger, and I think the badger suits him better. It's tempting to go weasel and say he was oh cunning and sleek, but I don't think that's true. While Show! Armstrong loses his shit fairly quickly, even in distress he maintains some control (like when he insists to take care of Mrs Rogers despite Rogers saying she was alright; or when they are all dancing and he is staring at Vera and Lombard, suspicious, trying to steady himself). The Badger fits him better: grounded, stable creatures but also very vicious if they have to be; if my doctor had a badger daemon I would feel safe, I think. Examples of badger daemons in the books I think it's Malcolm's mom, who is incredibly down-to-earth and assertive, which represents Book! Armstrong better, I'll be honest, but I can see Toby Stephens with a badger daemon as Armstrong as well. His character is a man with a sense of belonging, and he perceives his surroundings very well. In the book, Armstrong is more cool headed (for the show, him and Vera have their attitudes swapped, which I like but it's fair to mention here as well) and more in control of his motions. He moves around everyone and doesn't start dissent like in the show, which I think makes sense for his daemon. He doesn't fight unless he has too.

For Wargrave, and this was fun, but I was torn between a butterfly and a chameleon, and I ultimately decided for the butterfly because I thought the chameleon was too on the nose with his twist. This is for both show and book, and if there are changes it's probably just in colours and patterns. In the book, Wargrave is often described as someone with a reptile smile, hence why I chose the chameleon at first, but I think he is still a fragile man at his core. Butterflies are synonym of beauty and change; they tend to be associated with evolution and growth, and that's Wargrave's story I think. He is a man who spent his life working in law, seeing dozens and dozens of criminals come and go and die: he was known for having a high death rate, so I imagine he dealt with heinous crimes the most (I don't know for sure but I don't think they hanged people for stealing or whatever in the early 20th century, but take this with a pinch of salt lmao). Then one day Wargrave meets this Edward Seton, a total sadist (and a serial killer in the show) and he realised things about himself that he didn't know before. In the show, he has a line about Seton having a legacy of terror to be remembered, while he and everyone else would be forgotten and I think that's very much what the butterfly represents for Wargrave. When he finds out he is sick, he finds growth in pursuing his true passion, which was murder. The butterfly is also a very fragile daemon, and because of that she doesn't reflect his true physique (despite sick he is nowhere near as frail as he appears to be), and her beauty helps lure the trust of people, make him seem trustworthy (Vera on the show, Armstrong in the book). Just to add, he is also separated from her, and this is how he manages to fake his death well. (i was saving this twist for the fic but I might never finish it lmao)

For Miss Brent, this one had me thinking a lot. Like, a lot. I was torn between a toucan and a spider, and I ultimately decided to go for the toucan, mostly because I think it suits her better. Spiders are often associated with storytellers and creative people and Emily Brent is far from creative. She is judgemental, conservative, vain and nasty towards anyone she considers unworthy. In the show, she has an attitude towards the General, she likes him well and they don't quite explain why, but I think it's because he is from her generation - and social status - and she respects him for it. The same goes for Wargrave and Armstrong, but towards Armstrong she just respects his status, not his age. She sort of sees him as "still young but on the right path". She absolutely resents Lombard - as she does in the book, probably for the same reason: he is pretty much a living hands to mouth kind of guy and he is immoral according to her - and she doesn't think highly of Blore either, also because of social status. Anyway, I can do a separate post about this, but I chose the toucan because they are beautiful birds, a little menacing, and they have a bit of a bitchy attitude. No deeper thought to that to be fair lmao. Toucans make me think "vain" and I love this concept because Miss Brent loathes women who wear make up or show off, but I think this Is clearly a façade on her part, because she is also vain, in her own way.

For Rogers, I was torn between a big, posh dog and a fox. Now, this one is tough because we fall into that "good servants have dog daemons" rule, which I think it's too simplistic to define a person's nature. I'm more inclined towards the posh dog, mostly because I think that helps Rogers fit in with a crowd that isn't his; and sure, he is a cunning man (like a fox daemon would evoke) but I think a dog like a Dobermann suits Rogers best, in the book at least. A fox would suit show! Rogers better, but the dog suits him too physically (tall, slender, mean looking), so I'm sticking with the dog.

For the General, I think a hawk. A bird of prey. He was a soldier and he was fucking shrewd to send a man to die in such an inconspicuous way. Birds of prey Daemons have very passionate humans - Ma Costa, Tony Costa, Anthony Hassall, as well as Bud Schlesinger and Marcel Delamare with their owls - but while owls are tame and introvert, hawks tend to be extreme and out there, lashing out and being menacing with ease. This was a natural choice for me, although I also considered eagles for him later, but changed my mind. (On my notes I wrote "def not an owl" lmao)

For Mrs Rogers, I think a mouse would suit her, and I know this is painfully obvious, but that's the vibe she gives me. A small person, being coerced and oppressed by a petty tyrant, and she just lets things steer her by, absolutely not in control of her life. I also gave her a same sex type of daemon, because she just has that uncanny aura, I don't know how to explain it; I can see that affecting her life since childhood, and steering her towards a man like Rogers, who would take advantage of her loneliness. Same sex daemons are rare and the example we had was in someone extremely sensitive, and I feel that in Mrs Rogers.

And lastly, Tony Marston, and this one I had too many options, but I opted for a Margay, who was suggested to me in fact. It's a feline daemon, very slick and lithe but also very ethereal looking, which I think suits Marston: handsome but lacking substance (not lacking so much substance in the show tho lmao get it? cause he did cocaine? a substance? Haha please don't unfollow me). Frankly, because he dies first I didn't give this too much thought, but I knew it had to be a wild daemon, quick and lithe.

Honorable mention to Fred Narracott and his seagull daemon. Thanks for asking this anon, I had a blast!

[okay-victoria]

Status of Women in The Empire

Summary: LN gives some evidence women have a better status than they did in OTL Germany. It gives little to nothing in the way of evidence that we are in post-sexual-revolution territory. It presents little enough evidence generally that you can use this issue in your own story as you wish; however, using how humans actually work as your baseline, it would be a very definite handwave to think that gender equality is much more than marginally better than OTL would have been at the time, or that Tanya wouldn’t be negatively affected by it in some significant ways in daily life. On the other hand, the original story handwaves an eight year old enrolling in a modern military and getting promoted to a mid-ranking officer by age eleven, so as a reader, I’m obviously pretty down for handwaving some realism for the sake of a good story.

Evidence:

V1/C1

“The armed forces have a practical exception in place for just about everything.” <= I think in fanon the entire Empire as seen as this sort of “everything we do is logical” territory where gender discrimination would have had to be eliminated, but in reality it’s presented as the military, and they are making an exception for a rare and incredibly militarily useful type of person to be able to be put to use by them without gender discrimination stopping it.

V1/C4

“But in the far-from-gender-free world of “ladies first,” Tanya with her outwardly girlish appearance is, albeit only relatively, blessed compared to the other students” <= YMMV, but I would not describe modern society as a world of “ladies first”. Do people do/say it to hark back to pre-1960s chivalry? Sure. Is it really the standard we live by anymore? Not so much. Tanya seems to pretty definitely still be living in those days.

“Basically, apart from the mage branch, the army is a man’s world. Actually, even most of the mages are men.” <= this is notable because it is said when Tanya is in War College, at which point the war has been going on for long enough that available mages have been conscripted, so there is no selection bias that men have simply chosen to pursue a career as a mage more often than women. This is actually weirdly important because it either means:

Magic talent is like, an X chromosome trait and men are thus more likely to have it [in which case, it would probably be taken as natural evidence that men are superior and worsen the gender equality situation]; or

There in fact is a Youjo Konki-esque exception for married women and/or mothers. A nation has to still be relatively in the infancy of gender equality if Female Mage #102 has children with Infantryman #1,000,102 and the military decides that since it can’t leave these children parentless, it has to conscript the dude who is substitutable for literally anyone else and not the human weapon.

Tanya has a long-ish reflection on women in the military. Important points are, the rules have only been overhauled recently to make it practical for women to serve in combat. Women in combat didn’t really exist prior to this war, and women in the military were basically limited to noble/imperial families having their daughters serve out nominal duties. Whatever boost women as a whole get from serving in a capacity that people are used to seeing men in, it has not had time to transform society all that much.

V2/C2

“Women administrators are not uncommon, but in the Empire where gender equality still has a ways to go, their qualifications are always questioned.” <= YMMV as to what degree this is meant to be a statement on something that still troubles women in modern times, or something that indicates gender equality is not particularly close to modern.

V2/C5

“After all, now that I’ve been turned into a girl, I’m faced with this annoying military framework where men are superior. Just the thought of my promotions being blocked by an invisible glass ceiling is enough to dampen any desire I might have to act all girlish for propaganda…apart from that, the Empire’s personnel system has adapted extremely meritocratic principles for the war, in a way, so I’m more or less satisfied with it.” <= sort of same as above, YMMV on whether this is just Tanya realizing what life is like for a woman in modern society or meant as a “no, it was worse” point.

However, I will say this: I highly, highly doubt any men chosen for high military honors were photographed doing anything other than looking ultra manly in uniform. Women serving in modern militaries are not forced to put on showy dresses when they get their photos taken, they are treated, at least in photos, with the same respect as their male colleagues. The fact that anyone found it appropriate to only photograph the recipient of the highest military honor in cute girl clothes speaks to some deep discomfort with anyone outside the military seeing women not doing what they’re supposed to.

V6/C6

“The Imperial Army has already tapped all the population pools that can be mobilized, but it still has two options. One is to begin the general conscription of women. That said, they’ve already been mobilized in the industrial sector.” <= YMMV, again, on how willing a modern country would be to conscript women to fight a world war, but if you are as deep into a world war as the Empire is and no one’s trying it, at the least we can say the Empire is not the bastion of cold logic it fanonically is outside the military. Also, it pretty much seems like women working in large numbers has only become a thing because all the guys are off fighting, which very much sticks us in pre-1950s territory.

V8/C1

Andrew reacts surprised to see a female reporter from the Federation, and reflects that they are quite liberal in some ways <= while this is a non-Imperial guy, given his familiarity with the Empire, it would seem weird that if the Empire was particularly more advanced than his country that he would still be so surprised.

Other Working Knowledge Your Author Has On This Subject:

Women serving in the military, while certainly helpful to the cause of gender equality, by itself is not going to create a broad-based transformation in society. That sounds a bit like saying: As we all know, the US dropped any racist laws or regulations as soon as we started allowing non-white units in the military. After Elizabeth I serving as the Ruler of England, a very manly role that her tiny woman-brain didn’t fuck up too bad, the people who thought women were naturally stupider than men were quickly relegated to the margins and gender discrimination mostly became more of an annoyance than a real hindrance to the average woman’s goals. It just doesn’t work that way. And I’m not here to say that the US is a post-gender paradise, but the US, which has never had a woman president and is pretty slow about expanding military opportunities for women, nonetheless is a lot better on the gender equality front than some countries that have had women leaders and allow women a fuller range of military opportunities. There’s a lot more complexity to it than: My country respects military => military allows women => guess I’m going to stop being sexist

The same goes for something that isn’t about gender equality at large but how it relates to Tanya: The view that while gender equality may be non-advanced, Tanya specifically is exempt from dealing with it because she is “one of the boys”. It Does Not Work Like That. At All. And the further you go back in time, the less it worked like that. Within the military specifically Tanya will probably be alright, but society at large punishes men & women that break gender roles as brazenly as she does more than it rewards them. This is an entire essay unto itself, Google is your friend.

This is going to sound silly and facetious but I’m being dead serious, from what little we know of fashion in the YS world, it matches what would have been the case in the real world in the WW1 era. If society at large was really that different, that wouldn’t be the case.

There is no canon evidence that magic has made any scientific advancements outside the military sphere of influence. Before the advent of things like dishwashers, vacuums, microwaves, especially refrigerators, and especially laundry machines being common household items, the ideal family model was: one person makes money outside home, one person takes care of house. There wasn’t enough time in the day to work and run a household. Many women in poor households had to work, generally at the expense of being able to keep their own household running smoothly, and even then they often worked in capacities that allowed them to be at home or ones that allowed them the flexibility to take care of some of this stuff. It really just isn’t possible to have a society remotely approaching equality when one gender is automatically assigned to home unless necessary.

Same goes for something else - contraception. Women having access to a contraceptive device that they control is a major component of setting a society on a path towards equality. Birth control pills didn’t become widely available until the 1960s. Without being unable to at least kind of balance the outcome of sex (even between married couples) between men and women, women as a class have a hard time escaping from the housewife-mother archetype.

Not to get too political here, but the Empire matches OTL Germanic-Prussianness too much to ignore. Living under a military-worshipping, religiously-inclined traditional monarchy has not, in any real life example I’m aware of, gone hand-in-hand with anything other than a fairly conservative and patriarchal society, and I feel like the burden of proof is on the other side to explain why that isn’t the case in the Empire, and our original author makes approximately zero effort to do this.

Being X turns Tanya into a woman for the purpose of making her life worse. It seems simply illogical [although I guess Being X’s decision-making skills are questionable] that he would then drop her into a world that had undergone broad-based gender reform instead of a world that was just barely tweaked from our own in such a way that it would allow Tanya to serve in the military.

My conclusion: the most likely option is that gender equality is exactly enough better as it needs to be to allow the military to convince the lawmakers that they should be able to use a very rare & dangerous ability to be part of their arsenal without respect to gender, or age, and no more. That difference is not likely to make life for women significantly better than it was in the equivalent OTL time period.

[partywithponies]

Hi I don't really interact with you but I've been pondering over watching father brown sometime in the future and I just wanted to know exactly what it's about and why you like it so much :)

Okay SO

Let's start at the very beginning.

Way back in July of 1910, noted detective fiction author, journalist, philosopher, first president of The Detection Club (though not yet, it wasn't founded until 1930), and very devout Christian man G.K. Chesterton wrote a short story for a fiction magazine. That story was titled Valentin Follows A Curious Trail, and told the tale of great French detective Inspector Aristide Valentin, who has tracked notorious criminal Hercule Flambeau, master of disguise and Europe's most wanted, doggedly for years, and has finally followed Flambeau to London, where he has absconded with a priest, hoping to steal the priest’s priceless blue cross. Valentin follows to pair across London, following a trail of odd behaviour, only to find that the priest knew Flambeau was Flambeau the whole time, and had been deliberately leaving a trail of odd behaviour so the Inspector could track them, while leading Flambeau on a long walk so they could talk, and had long simce stolen his cross back again without Flambeau noticing. Valentin and Flambeau both bow to the little priest because he's bested both of them and it's all very lovely.

Anyway Chesterton carried on writing more and more and more short stories, this time with the little priest, Father Brown as the main character instead of Valentin, and Valentin Follows A Curious Trail was retitled The Blue Cross, and made the first Father Brown story. The Father Brown stories are notable in a few ways. Rather than solve crimes through cold logic and deduction like Sherlock Holmes, Father Brown solves crimes through really understanding people, and through sympathises and empathising with people, and putting himself in criminal's shoes and trying to understand why they think like they do, and feeling how they would've felt. King. In fact, a few times the books deliberately make fun of the Sherlock Holmes methods of deduction, and point out that these cold facts could point to any number of explanations, if you don’t factor in thoughts and feelings. Iconic. As the books go on, the character of Father Brown becomes more and more just a mouthpiece for all Chesterton's personal political beliefs. Like that time Father Brown said that wanting to murder a millionaire the most understandable and natural thing in the world, and that time Father Brown called capitalism "heresy" and "evil". That was great. What's really great about the books is how they subvert a lot of the expectations of the genre before subverting expectations was even cool, and how multi-layered and complex the characters are for the era of fiction. Flambeau, introduced as a notorious criminal with no morals, becomes Father Brown’s best (and only) friend, goes on fun holidays with Father Brown, and proves willing to go to ridiculous lengths to protect Father Brown, while Valentin, introduced as the respected and distinguished unshakeable great detective, commits murder himself, and then commits suicide when confronted about the reality of what he did. ( 😭 )

The Father Brown stories have been adapted a total of 14 times! 10 times for TV and film, and 4 times for radio. (Only 6 of the 10 TV and film adaptations are in English though. 3 of them are in German, which I understand a little, and 1 is in Italian, which I don't understand at all, but don't worry about it.) They are of varying quality but they all have things to love about them and they all have a special place in my heart!!

Which brings us to the present day! BBC Father Brown is a BBC drama adaptation starting in 2013 and still going! Mark Williams plays Father Brown, and is BRILLIANT. The show is set in an eternal summer 1953 (it's best not to question it), a surprising time for it to be set considering Chesterton died in 1936, but the aesthetics slap so I'll allow it. Mark Williams Father Brown is much like book Father Brown except taller, he has less open disdain for the rich and the aristocracy, he actually does his goddamn job, and he has more than one friend now!! Good for him!! So anyway Father Brown solves murders and stuff with his fun little scooby gang of misfits, stopping occasionally to say gay rights, it's great. Flambeau still exists too! He's a bitch and I love him so much.

To my mind BBC Father Brown is everything BBC Sherlock should have been, in terms of adaptating a golden age detective series for a modern audience. It's diverse, and relatable, and knows how to tell a good mystery, and it isn't even as political as the books its based, no matter what the negative reviewers say. It can be serious, or dark, or emotional, without ever being depressing or needlessly gritty or edgy, it's always positive and uplifting, and isn't afraid to be very very silly.

Anyway this was long and rambling, hope this helped!