#please feel free to tell me how to better my alt text. i feel like im not the best at it and need tips
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i love him ok!! i tried coloring on procreate but its brush engine is different than my usual style on csp... i'll figure it out!! idk!!
[ ID: A half body colored piece of kasarian's OC, Alon, a fat trans man. He is smiling at something off camera as four lanterns glow a light blue with the power of the moon instead of your typical flames. His left hand has sharp nails, curling around the lanterns closest to him. Each lantern has some wave patterns on them, and the large ones have a moon insignia on them.]
#oc alon#my art#fat art#fat oc#trans oc#kemonomimi#described art#please feel free to tell me how to better my alt text. i feel like im not the best at it and need tips#original character art#original character#myart
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Yasmin Khan for the character bingo, please?
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id under cut because it's long as hell thank you to autismcupcake from the notes for putting the work in
[ID: a bingo sheet titled "character bingo" with the word bingo capitalized in larger text with one letter over each column.
The first row's spaces are "my special little meow meow. my every waking thought. my dearest blorbo", "I don't have anything against them personally but they failed the vibe check", "I'm the only one who knows anything about them, actually. everyone else is wrong sorry", "if I met them irl would beat them up (affectionate)" and would unplug their life support to charge my phone".
The second row has "I like the fanon better for this one", "a pathetic wet cat of a man", "my anti blorbo. I am constantly thinking of them and I hate it", "knowing of their existence fills me with incredibly violent urges" and "they could've been such a good character if they were handled differently".
The third row is "*gently holds*", "don't care about them tbh", "free space", "[long keysmash in all caps]" and "I sincerely do not understand the hype".
In the fourth row there is "they have never done anything, ever, in their life", "I don't even go here but I'd die for them tbh" "not to be a homosexual but jesus fucking christ. Oh. My god. Holy shit.", "Autism™" and "genuinely. What the fuck."
The final row has "will somebody give them a fucking hug jesus christ", "they could pour soup in my lap and I'd apologize to them", "they are literally so based", "there's nothing going on behind those eyes [heart emoji]" and "I want to kiss their poor little head"
"Yaz ♥" is written at the top of the image. Highlighted are "my special little meow meow (etc)", "im the only one that knows anything about them (etc)", "*gently holds*", the keysmash, "they have done nothing wrong (etc)", "not to be a homosexual (etc)" with the handwritten note "can't begin to tell you how much i feel this", "Autism™", "will somebody give them a fucking hug jesus christ", "they could pour soup in my lap (etc)" with the note "she never would but", "they are literally so based", and "i want to kiss their poor little head".
End ID]
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youtube
I was invited to give a talk on GamerGate over Zoom in early 2021. I've long been frustrated that there isn't a good timeline of GG and its origins on YouTube. When people ask "what the hell was GG anyway?" they often get referred to my or Dan Olson's videos on the subject, but both of them were made while GG was ongoing, and presumed a degree of familiarity on the part of the audience. There was just too much to say about what was already happening to spend time getting the audience up to speed, and it was safe to assume our audiences had enough context to follow along. But time moves fast on the internet, and many people who now care about such things weren't there while it was happening, and are lacking the necessary context to follow the better videos. For a long time, I've only been able to direct them to RationalWiki's timeline, which is excellent but so exhaustively comprehensive that it's likely to scare off first-timers.
I realize an hourlong lecture isn't necessarily helping matters, but the first 20-or-so minutes of this video are my attempt at streamlining the timeline such that people can be up to speed on the most important stuff fairly quickly. The rest is talking about what it all meant, how it prefigured the Alt-Right, and using it to better understand digital radicalization.
This video was made with the help of Magdalen Rose, who edited the slides to the audio while I was laid up with a back injury. Go sub to her channel! And please back me on Patreon.
Transcript below the cut.
FUCKING VIDEO GAMES? FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. THEY MADE DOZENS OF PEOPLE MISERABLE FOR YEARS OVER VIDEO GAMES! NOT EVEN FUCKING VIDEO GAMES, FUCKING ARTICLES ABOUT FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. THIS IS WHAT PASSES FOR LEGITIMATE GRIEVANCE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT??
Hi! My name is Ian Danskin. I’m a video essayist and media artist. I run the YouTube channel Innuendo Studios, please like share and subscribe.
I’m here to talk to you about GamerGate, and I needed to get all that out of the way. I’m going to talk about what GamerGate was and how it prefigured The Alt-Right, and there are gonna be moments where you’re nodding along with me, going, “yeah, yeah I get it,” and then the sun’s gonna break through a crack in the wall and you’ll suddenly remember that all this is happening because some folks - mostly ladies - said some stuff - provably true stuff, I might add - about video games and a bunch of guys didn’t like it, and you’re gonna want to rip your hair out. By the end of this, you will have a better understanding of what happened, but it will never not be bullshit.
Also, oh my god, content warning. Racism, sexism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, rape threats, threats of violence, domestic abuse - I’m not going to depict or describe at length any of the worst stuff, but it’s all in the mix. So if at any point you need to switch me off or mute me, you have my blessing.
Brace yourselves.
Some quick prehistory:
In 2012, feminist media critic Anita Sarkeesian ran a Kickstarter campaign for a YouTube series on sexist tropes in video games. And, partway through the campaign, 4chan found it and said “let’s ruin her life.” And a lot of the male general gaming public joined in. And by “ruin her life” I’m not talking 150 angry tweets including dozens of rape and death threats per week, though that was a thing. I’m talking bomb threats. I’m talking canceled speaking engagements because someone threatened to shoot up a school. I’m talking FBI investigation. The harassers faced no meaningful repercussions.
And in 2013, Zoe Quinn released Depression Quest, a free text game about living with depression. They received harassment off and on for the next year, most pointedly from an incel forum called Wizardchan that doxxed their phone number and made harassing phone calls telling them to kill themself. The harassers faced no meaningful repercussions.
(Also, quick note: Zoe Quinn is nonbinary and has come out since the events in question. When I call Zoe’s harassment misogynist, understand I am not calling Zoe a woman, but they were attacked by people who hate women because that’s how they were perceived. Had they been out at the time things probably would’ve gone down similarly, but on top of misogyny I’d be talking about nonbinary erasure and transphobia.)
Okay. Our story begins in August 2014. The August that never ended.
Depression Quest, after a prolonged period on Greenlight, finally releases on Steam as a free download with the option to pay what you want. In the days that follow, Zoe’s ex-boyfriend, Eron Gjoni, writes a nearly 10,000-word blog called The Zoe Post, in which he claims Quinn had been a shitty and unfaithful partner. (For reference, 10,000 words is long enough that the Hugos would consider it a novelette.) This is posted to forums on Penny Arcade and Something Awful, both of which immediately take it down, finding it, at best, a lot of toxic hearsay and, at worse, an invitation to harassment. So Gjoni workshops the post, adds a bunch of edgelord humor (and I am using the word “humor” very generously), and reposts it to three different subforums on 4chan.
We’re not going to litigate whether Zoe Quinn was a good partner. I don’t know or care. I don’t think anyone on this call is trying to date them so I’m not sure that’s our business. What is known is that the relationship lasted five months, and, after it ended, Gjoni began stalking Quinn. Gjoni has, in fact, laid out how he stalked Quinn in meticulous detail to interviewers and why he feels it was justified. It’s also been corroborated by a friend that Quinn briefly considered taking him back at a games conference in San Francisco, but he became violent during sex and Quinn left the apartment in the middle of the night with visible bruises.
Off of the abusive ex-boyfriend’s post, 4chan decides it’s going to make Zoe Quinn one of their next targets, and starts a private IRC channel to plan the campaign. The channel is called #BurgersAndFries, a reference to Gjoni claiming Quinn had cheated on him with five guys. A couple sentences in The Zoe Post - which Gjoni would later claim were a typo - imply that one of the five guys was games journalist Nathan Grayson and that Quinn had slept with him in exchange for a good review of Depression Quest. Given the anger that they’d seen drummed up against women in games with the previous Anita Sarkeesian hate mob, #BurgersAndFries decides to focus on this breach of “ethics in games journalism” as a cover story, many of them howling with laughter at the thought that male gamers would probably buy it. This way, destroying Quinn’s life and career and turning their community against them would appear an unfortunate byproduct of a legitimate consumer revolt; criticism of the harassment could even be framed as a distraction from the bigger issue. Gjoni himself is in the IRC channel telling them that this was the best hand to play.
The stated aim of many on #BurgersAndFries was to convince Quinn to commit suicide.
Two regulars in the IRC, YouTubers MundaneMatt and Internet Aristocrat, make videos about The Zoe Post. Incidentally, both these men had already made a lot of money off videos about Anita Sarkeesian. Matt’s is swiftly taken down with a DMCA claim, and he says that Quinn filed the claim themself. (For the record, in those days, YouTube didn’t tell you who filed DMCA claims against you.) Members of the IRC also reach out to YouTuber TotalBiscuit, who had been critical of Sarkeesian and dismissive of her harassment, and he tweets the story to his 350,000 followers, saying a game developer trading sex for a good review might not prove true, but was certainly plausible.
This is where GamerGate begins to get public traction.
Zoe Quinn is very swiftly doxxed, with their phone number, home address, nudes, and names and numbers of their family collected. Gjoni himself leaks their birth name. The Zoe Post, and the movement against Quinn - now dubbed “The Quinnspiracy” - make it to The Escapist and Reddit, which mods will have little luck removing. The Quinnspiracy declares war on any site that does take their threads down, most vehemently NeoGAF. People who defend Zoe against the harassment start getting doxxed themselves - Fez developer Phil Fish is doxxed so thoroughly, hackers get access to the root folder of his website.
In what I’m going to call This Should Have Been The End, Part 1, Stephen Totilo, Editor-in-Chief at Kotaku where Nathan Grayson worked, in response to pressure not just from The Quinnspiracy but an increasing number of angry gamers buying The Quinnspiracy’s narrative, publishes a story. In it he verifies that Quinn and Grayson did date for several months, and that not only is there no review of Depression Quest anywhere on Kotaku, not by Grayson nor anyone else, but that Grayson did not write a single word about Quinn the entire time they were dating.
In response, The Quinnspiracy declares war on Kotaku. r/KotakuinAction is formed, which will become the primary site of organization outside of chanboards. The fact that their entire “movement” is based on a review that does not exist changes next to nothing.
Some people start to see The Quinnspiracy as potentially profitable. The Fine Young Capitalists get involved, a group ostensibly working to get women into video games but who have a Byzantine plan to do so wherein they crowdfund the budget and the woman who wins a competition gets to storyboard a game, but another company will make and she will get 8% of the profits, the rest going to a charity chosen by the top donor. 4chan becomes the top donor. They like TFYC because the head of the company has a vendetta against Zoe Quinn, who had previously called them out for their transphobic submission policy, and he falsely accused Quinn of having once doxxed him. 4chan feels backing an ostensibly feminist effort will be good PR, but can’t resist selecting a colon cancer charity because, they say, feminism is cancer and they want to be the cure to butthurt. They also get to design a character for the game, and so they create Vivian James, who will become the GamerGate mascot.
Manosphere YouTubers Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini launch a Patreon campaign for their antifeminist documentary The Sarkeesian Effect and come to The Quinnspiracy looking for $15,000 a month for an indefinite period to make it, which they get.
In what will prove genuinely awful timing, Anita Sarkeesian releases the second episode of Tropes vs. Women in Video Games, and, despite not being a games journalist and having nothing to do with Quinn or Grayson, she is immediately roped into the narrative about how feminists are ruining games culture and becomes the second major target of harassment. Both she and Quinn soon have to leave their houses after having receiving dozens and dozens of death threats that include their home addresses.
After being courted by members of the IRC channel, Firefly star Adam Baldwin tweets a link to one of the Quinnspiracy videos and coins the hashtag #GamerGate. This is swiftly adopted by all involved.
In response to all this, Leigh Alexander writes a piece for Gamasutra arguing that the identity that these men are flocking to the “ethics in games journalism” narrative to defend no longer matters as a marketing demographic. Gaming and games culture is so large and so varied, and the “core gamer” audience of 18-34 white bros growing smaller and septic, that there was no reason, neither morally nor financially, to treat them as the primary audience anymore. Love of gaming is eternal, but, she declared, “gamers,” as an identity, “are over.” Eight more articles contextualizing GamerGate alongside misogyny and the gatekeeping of games culture come out across several websites in the following days. GamerGate frames these as a clear sign of [deep sigh] collusion to oppress gamers, proving that ethics in games journalism is, indeed, broken, and Leigh Alexander becomes the third major target of harassment. These become known as the “gamers are dead” articles - a phrase not one of them uses - and they make “get Leigh Alexander fired from Gamasutra” one of their primary goals.
Something I need you to understand is that it has, at this point, been two weeks.
Highlights from the next little bit: Alex Macris, a higher up at The Escapist’s parent company, expresses support for GamerGate; he will go on to write the first positive coverage at a major publication and cement The Escapist as GamerGate-friendly. Mike Cernovich, aka “Based Lawyer,” gets GamerGate’s attention by mocking Anita Sarkeesian; he will go on to hire a private investigator to stalk Zoe Quinn. GamerGate launches Operation Disrespectful Nod, an email campaign pressuring companies to pull advertising from websites that have criticized them. They leverage their POC members, getting them, any time someone points out the rampant racism and antisemitism among GamerGaters, to say “I am a person of color and I am #NotYourShield”; most of these “POC members” are fake accounts left over from a previous, racist disinformation campaign. Milo Yiannapoulos gets involved, writing positive coverage of GG despite having mocked gamers for precisely this behavior in the past, and gets so much traffic it pulls Breitbart News out of obscurity and makes it a significant player in modern conservative news media.
[Hey! Ian from the future here. This talk mostly addresses how GamerGate prefigured the Alt-Right strategically and philosophically, but if you want a more explicit, material connection: Breitbart News took its newfound notoriety to become, as its Executive Chair phrased it in 2016, "a platform for the Alt-Right." That Executive Chair was Steve Bannon, who threw the website's weight behind The Future President Who Shall Not Be Named, and, upon getting his attention, would then go on to become his campaign strategist and work in his Administration. So, if you're wondering how one of the central figures of the Alt-Right ended up in the White House, the answer is literally "GamerGate." Back to you, Ian from the past!]
In what I’m calling This Should Have Been The End, Part 2, Zoe Quinn announces that they have been lurking the #BurgersAndFries IRC channel since the beginning and releases dozens of screenshots showing harassment being planned and the selection of “ethics in games journalism” as a cover. #BurgersAndFries has a meltdown, everyone turns on each other, and the channel is abandoned. And they then start another IRC and things proceed.
It goes on like this. I’m not gonna cover everything. This is just the first month. It should be clear by now that this thing is kind of unkillable. And I worry I haven’t made it obvious that this is not just a chanboard and an IRC. Thousands of regular, every day gamers were buying the story and joining in. They were angry, and no amount of evidence that their anger was unfounded was going to change that. You could not mention or even allude to GamerGate and not get flooded with dozens, even hundreds of furious replies. These replies always included the hashtag so everyone monitoring it could join in, so all attempts at real conversation devolved into a hundred forking threads where some people expected you to talk to them while others hurled insults and slurs. And always the possibility that, if any one of them didn’t like what you said, you’d be the next target.
To combat this, some progressives offered up the hashtag #GameEthics to the people getting swept up in GamerGate, saying, “look, we get that you’re angry, and if you want to talk about ethics in games journalism, we can totally do that, but using your hashtag is literally putting us in danger; they calling the police on people saying there’s a hostage situation at their home addresses so they get sent armed SWAT teams, and if you’ll just use this other hashtag we can have the conversation you say you want to have in safety.” And I will ever stop being salty about what happened.
They refused. They wouldn’t cede any ground to what they saw as their opposition. It was so important to have the conversation on their terms that not only did they refuse to use #GameEthics, they spammed it with furry porn so no one could use it.
A few major events on the timeline before we move on: Christina Hoff Sommers, the Republican Party’s resident “feminist,” comes out criticizing Anita Sarkeesian and becomes a major GG figurehead, earning the title Based Mom. Zoe Quinn gets a restraining order against Eron Gjoni, which he repeatedly violates, to no consequence; GG will later crowdfund his legal fees. There’s this listserv called GameJournoPros where game journalists would talk about their jobs, and many are discussing their concerns over GamerGate, so Milo Yiannopoulos leaks it and this is framed as further “proof of collusion.” 4chan finally starts enforcing its “no dox” rules and shuts GamerGate threads down, so they migrate to 8chan, a site famous for hosting like a lot of child porn. Indie game developer Brianna Wu makes a passing joke about GamerGate on Twitter and they decide, seemingly on a whim, to make her one of the biggest targets in the entire movement; she soon has to leave her home as well. GamerGate gets endorsements from WikiLeaks, Infowars, white nationalist sites Stormfront and The Daily Stormer, and professional rapist RooshV. And hundreds of people get doxxed; an 8chan subforum called Baphomet is created primarily to host dox of GamerGate’s critics.
But by November, GamerGate popularity was cresting, as more and more mainstream media covered it negatively. Their last, big spike in popularity came when Anita Sarkeesian went on The Colbert Report and Stephen made fun of the movement. Their numbers never recovered after that.
Which is not to say GamerGate ended. It slowed down. The period of confusion where the mainstream world couldn’t tell whether it was a legitimate movement or not passed. But, again, most harassers faced no meaningful repercussions. Gamers who bought the lie about “ethics in games journalism” stayed mad that no one had ever taken them seriously, and harassers continued to grief their targets for years. The full timeline of GamerGate is an constant cycle of lies, harassment, operations, grift, and doxxing. Dead-enders are to this day still using the hashtag. And remember how Anita had nothing to do with ethics in games journalism or Zoe Quinn, and they just roped her in because they’d enjoyed harassing her before so why not? Every one of GamerGate’s targets knows that they may get dragged into some future harassment campaign just because. It’s already happened to several of them. They’re marked.
(sigh) Let’s take a breath.
Now that we know what GamerGate was, let’s talk about why it worked.
In the thick of GamerGate, I started compiling a list of tactics I saw them using. I wanted to make a video essay that was one part discussion of antifeminist backlash, and one part list of techniques these people use so we can better recognize and anticipate their behavior. That first part became six parts and the second part went on a back burner. It would eventually become my series, The Alt-Right Playbook. GamerGate is illustrative because most of what would become The Alt-Right Playbook was in use.
Two foundational principles of The Alt-Right Playbook are Control the Conversation and Never Play Defense. Make sure people are talking about what you want them to talk about, and take an aggressive posture so you look dominant even when you’re not making sense. For instance: once Zoe leaked the IRC chatlogs, a reasonable person could tell the average gater, “the originators of GamerGate were planning harassment from the very beginning.” But the gater would say, “you’re cherry-picking; not everyone was a harasser.”
Now, this is a bad argument - that’s not how you use “cherry-picking” - and it’s being framed as an accusation - you’re not just wrong, you’re dishonest - which makes you wanna defend yourself. But, if you do - if you tell them why that argument is crap - you’ve let the conversation move from “did the IRC plan harassment?” - a question of fact - to “are the harassers representative of the movement?” - a question of ethics. Like, yes, they are, but only within a certain moral framework. An ethics question has no provable answer, especially if people are willing to make a lot of terrible arguments. It is their goal to move any question with a definitive answer to a question of philosophy, to turn an argument they can’t win into an argument nobody can win.
The trick is to treat the question you asked like it’s already been answered and bait you into addressing the next question. By arguing about whether you’re cherry-picking, you’re accepting the premise that whether you’re cherry-picking is even relevant. Any time this happens, it’s good to pause and ask, “what did we just skip over?” Because that will tell you a lot.
What you skipped over is their admission that, yes, the IRC did plan harassment, but that’s only on them if most of the movement was in on it. Which is a load of crap - the rest of the IRC saw it happening, let it happen, it’s not like anybody warned Zoe, and shit, I’m having the cherry-picking argument! They got me! You see how tempting it is? But presumably the reason you brought the harassment up is because you want them to do something about it. At the very least, leave the movement, but ideally try and stop it. They don’t, strictly speaking, need to feel personally responsible to do that. And you might be thinking, well, maybe if I can get them take responsibility then they’ll do something, but you’d be falling for a different technique I call I Hate Mondays.
This is where people will acknowledge a terrible thing is happening, maybe even agree it’s bad, but they don’t believe anything can be done about it. They also don’t believe you believe anything can be done about it. Mondays suck, but they come around every week. This is never stated outright, but it’s why you’re arguing past each other. To them, the only reason to talk about the bad thing is to assign blame. Whose turn is it to get shit on for the unsolvable problem? Their argument about cherry-picking amounts to “1-2-3 not it.” And they are furious with you for trying to make them responsible for harassment they didn’t participate in.
The unspoken argument is that harassment is part of being on the internet. Every public figure deals with it. This ignores any concept of scale - why does one person get harassed more than another? - but you can’t argue with someone who views it as a binary: harassment either happens or it doesn’t, and, if it does, it’s a fact of life, and, if it happens to everyone, it’s not gendered. And this is not a strongly-held belief they’ve come to after years of soul-searching - this is what they’ve just decided they believe. They want to participate in GamerGate despite knowing its purpose, and this is what would need to be true for that to be ok.
Or maybe they’re just fucking with you! Maybe you can’t tell. Maybe they can’t tell, either. I call this one The Card Says Moops, where people say whatever they feel will score points in an argument and are so irony-poisoned they have no idea whether they actually believe it. A very useful trick if the thing you appear to believe is unconscionable. You can’t take what people like that say at face value; you can only intuit their beliefs from their actions. They say they believe this one minute and that another, but their behavior is always in accordance with that, not this.
In the negative space, their belief is, “The harassment of these women is okay. My anger about video games is more important. I may not be harassing them myself, but they do kind of deserve it.” They will never say this out loud in a serious conversation, though many will say it in an anonymous or irreverent space where they can later deny they meant it. But, whatever they say they believe, this is the worldview they are operating under.
Obscuring this means flipping through a lot of contradictory arguments. The harassment is being faked, or it’s not being faked but it’s being exaggerated, or it’s not being exaggerated but the target is provoking it to get attention, which means GamerGate harassers simultaneously don’t exist, exist in small numbers, and exist in such large numbers someone can build a career out of relying on them! It can be kind of fun to take all these arguments made in isolation and try to string together an actual position. Like, GamerGate would argue that Nathan Grayson having previously mentioned Zoe Quinn in an article about a canceled reality show counts as positive coverage, and since Grayson reached out to Quinn for comment it’s reasonable to assume they started dating before the article was published (which is earlier than they claim), and positive coverage did lead to greater popularity for Depression Quest. But if you untangle that, it’s like… okay, you’re saying Zoe Quinn slept with a journalist in exchange for four nonconsecutive sentences that said no more than “Zoe Quinn exists and made a game,” and the price of those four sentences was to date the journalist for months, all to get rich off a game that didn’t cost any money. That’s your movement?
And some, if cornered, would say, “yes, we believe women are just that shitty, that one would fuck a guy for months if it made them the tiniest bit more famous.” But they won’t lead with that. Because they know it won’t convince the normies, even the ones who want to be convinced. So they use a process I call The Ship of Theseus to, piece by piece, turn that sentence into “slept with a journalist in exchange for a good review” and argue that each part of the sentence is technically accurate. It’s trying to lie without lying. And, provided all the pieces of this sentence are discussed separately, and only in the context of how they justify this sentence, you can trick yourself into believing this sentence is mostly true.
So, like, why? This is clearly motivated reasoning; what’s the motivation? What was this going to accomplish?
The answer is nothing. Nothing, by design. GamerGate’s “official” channels - the subreddit and the handful of forums that didn’t shut them down - were rigidly opposed to any action more organized than an email campaign. They had a tiny handful of tangible demands - they wanted gaming websites to post public ethics policies and had a list of people they wanted fired - but their larger aim was the sea change in how games journalism operated, which nothing they were asking for could possibly give them. The kind of anger that convinces you this is a true statement is not going to be addressed by a few paragraphs about ethics and Leigh Alexander getting a new job. They wanted gaming sites to stop catering to women and “SJWs” - who were a sizable and growing source of traffic - and to get out of the pockets of companies that advertised on their websites - which was their primary source of income. So all Kotaku had to do to make them happy was solve capitalism!
Meanwhile, the unofficial channels, like 8chan and Baphomet, were planning op after op to get private information, spread lies with fake accounts, get disinformation trending, make people quit jobs, cancel gigs, and flee their homes. Concrete goals with clear results. All you had to do to feel productive was go rogue. In my video,
How to Radicalize a Normie, I describe how the Alt-Right encourages lone wolf behavior by whipping people up into a rage and then refusing to give them anything to do, while surrounding them with examples of people taking matters into their own hands. The same mechanism is in play here: the public-facing channels don’t condone harassment but also refuse to fight it, the private channels commit it under cover of anonymity, and there is a free flow of traffic between them for when the official channels’ impotence becomes unbearable.
What I hope I’m illustrating is how these techniques play off of each other, how they create a closed ecosystem that rational thought cannot enter. There’s a phrase we use on the internet that got thrown around a lot at the time:
you can’t logic someone out of a position they didn’t logic themselves into.
Now, there are a few other big topics I think are relevant here, so I want to go through them one by one.
MEMEIFICATION
So a lot of interactions with GamerGate would involve a very insular knowledge base.
Like, you’d say something benign but progressive on Twitter.
A gater would show up in your mentions and say something aggressive and false.
You’d correct them. But then they’d come back and hit you with -
ah shit, sorry, this is a Loss meme.
If I were in front of a classroom I’d ask, show of hands, how many of you got that? I had to ask Twitter recently, does Gen Z know about Loss?!
If you don’t know what Loss is I’m not sure I can explain it to you. It’s this old, bad webcomic that was parodied so, so, so many times
that it was reduced to its barest essentials, to the point where any four panels with shapes in this arrangement is a Loss meme. For those of you in the know, you will recognize this anywhere, but have you ever tried to explain to someone who wasn’t in the know why this is really fuckin’ funny?
So, now… by the same process that this is a comics joke,
this is a rape joke.
I’m not gonna show the original image, but, once upon a time, someone made an animated GIF of the character Piccolo from Dragon Ball Z graphically raping Vegeta. 4chan loved it so much that it got posted daily, became known as the “daily dose,” until mods started deleting every incident of it. So they uploaded slightly edited version of it. Then they started uploading other images that had been edited with Piccolo’s color scheme. It got so abstracted that eventually any collection of purple and green pixels would be recognized as Piccolo Dick.
Apropos of nothing, GamerGate is a movement that insists it is not sexist in nature and it does not condone threats of rape against the women they don’t like. And this is their logo. This is their mascot.
If you’re familiar with the Daily Dose, the idea that GamerGate would never support Eron Gjoni if they believed he was a sexual abuser is so blatantly insincere it’s insulting… but imagine trying to explain to someone who’s not on 4chan how this sweater is a rape joke. Imagine having to explain it to a journalist. Imagine having to explain it to the judge enforcing your abuser’s restraining order.
Reactionaries use meme culture not just because they’re terminally online but also because it makes their behavior seem either benign or just confusing to outsiders. They find it hilarious that they can be really explicit and still fly under the radar. The Alt-Right did this with Pepe the Frog, the OK sign, even the milk glass emoji for a hot minute. The more inexplicable the meme, the better. You get the point where Stephen Miller is flashing Nazi signs from the White House and the Presidential re-eletion campaign is releasing 88 ads of exactly 14 words and there’s still a debate about whether the administration is racist. Because journalists aren’t going to get their heads around that. You tell them “1488 is a Nazi number,” it’s gonna seem a lot more plausible that you’re making shit up.
MOVE FAST AND BREAK THINGS
Online movements like GamerGate move at a speed and mutation rate too high for the mainstream world to keep up. And not just that they don’t understand the memes - they don’t understand the infrastructure.
In an attempt to cover GamerGate evenhandedly, George Wiedman of Super Bunnyhop interviewed a lawyer who specializes in journalistic ethics. He meant well; I really wish he hadn’t. You can see him trying to fit something like GamerGate into terms this silver-haired man who works in copyright law can understand. At one point he asks if it’s okay to fund the creative project of a potential journalistic source, to which the guy understandably says “no.”
What he’s alluding to here is the harassment of Jenn Frank. A few weeks into GamerGate, Jenn Frank writes a piece in The Guardian about sexism in tech that mentions Anita Sarkeesian and Zoe Quinn. In another case of “here’s a strongly-held belief I just decided I have,” GamerGate says this is a breach of journalistic ethics because Frank backs Quinn on Patreon. They harass her so intensely she not only has to quit her job at The Guardian, for several months she quits journalism entirely.
Off the bat, calling a public figure central to a major event in the field a “journalistic source” is flatly wrong-headed. Quinn was not interviewed or even contacted for the article, they were in no way a “source”; they were a subject. But I want to talk about this phrase, “fund a creative project.” Patreon is functionally a subscription; it’s a way of buying things. It’s technically accurate that Frank is funding Quinn’s creative project, but only in the sense that you are funding Bob Dylan’s creative project if you listen to his music. And saying Frank therefore can’t write about Quinn is like saying a music journalist can’t cover a Bob Dylan concert if they’ve ever bought his albums.
And we could talk about the ways that Patreon, as compared with other funding models, can create a greater sense of intimacy, and we also could comment that, well, that’s how an increasing number of people consume media now, so that perspective should be present in journalism. But maybe it means we should cover that perspective differently? I don’t know. It’s an interesting subject. But none of that’s going on in this conversation because this guy doesn’t know what Patreon is. It was only a year old at this point. Patreon’s been a primary source of my income for 5 years and my parents still don’t know what it is. (I think they think I’m a freelancer?) This guy hears “funding a creative project” and he’s thinking an investor, someone who makes a profit off the source’s success.
The language of straight society hasn’t caught up with what’s happening, and that works in GamerGate’s favor.
In the years since GamerGate we have dozens of stories of people trying to explain Twitter harassment to a legal system that’s never heard of Twitter. People trying to explain death threats to cops whose only relationship to the internet is checking email, confusedly asking, “Why don’t you just not go online?” Like, yeah, release your text game about depression at GameStop for the PS3 and get it reviewed in the Boston Globe, problem solved.
You see this in the slowness of mainstream journalists to condemn the harassment - hell, even games journalists at first. Because what if it is a legitimate movement? What if the harassers are just a fringe element? What if there was misconduct? The people in a position to stop GamerGate don’t have to be convinced of their legitimacy, they just have to hesitate. They just have to be unsure. Remember how much happened in just the first two weeks, how it took only a month to become unkillable.
It’s the same hesitance that makes mainstream media, online platforms, and law enforcement underestimate The Alt-Right. They’re terrified of condemning a group as white nationalist terrorists because they’re confused, and what if they’re wrong? Or, in most cases, not even afraid they’re wrong, but afraid of the PR disaster if too much of the world thinks they’re wrong.
ACCOUNTABILITY AND CONTROL
A thing I’ve talked about in The Alt-Right Playbook is how these decentralized, ostensibly leaderless movements insulate themselves from responsibility. Harassment is never the movement’s fault because they never told anyone to harass and you can’t prove the harassers are legitimate members of the movement. The Alt-Right does this too - one of their catchphrases is “I disavow.” Since there are no formalized rules for membership, they can redraw boundaries on the fly; they can take credit for any successes and deny responsibility for any wrongdoing. Public membership is granted or revoked based on a person’s moment-to-moment utility.
It’s almost like… they’re cherry-picking.
The flipside of this is a lack of control. Since they never officially tell anyone to do anything but write emails, they have no means of stopping anyone from behaving counterproductively. The harassment of Jenn Frank was the first time GamerGate’s originators thought, “maybe we should ease off just to avoid bad publicity,” and they found they couldn’t. GamerGate had gotten too big, and too many people were clearly there for precisely this reason.
They also couldn’t control the infighting. When your goal is to harass women and you have all these contradictory justifications for why, you end up with a lot of competing beliefs. And, you know what? Angry white men who like harassing people don’t form healthy relationships! Several prominent members of GamerGate - including Internet Aristocrat - got driven out by factionalism; they were doxxed by their own people! Jordan Owen and Davis Aurini parted ways hating each other, with Aurini releasing chatlogs of him gaslighting Owen about accepting an endorsement from Roosh, and they released two competing edits of The Sarkeesian Effect.
I say this because it’s useful to know that these are alliances of convenience. If you know where the sore spots are, you can apply pressure to them.
LEADERS WITHOUT LEADERSHIP
One way movements like GamerGate deflect responsibility is by declaring, “We are a leaderless movement! We have no means to stop harassment.”
Which… any anarchist will tell you collective action is entirely possible without leaders. But they’ll also tell you, absent a system of distributing power equitably, you’re gonna have leaders, just not ones you elected.
A few months into GamerGate, Randi Lee Harper created the ggautoblocker. Here’s what it did: it took five prominent GamerGate figures - Adam Baldwin, Mike Cernovich, Christina Hoff Sommers, Milo Yiannopoulos, and Nick Monroe, formerly known as [sigh] PressFartToContinue - and generated a block list of everyone who followed at least two of them on Twitter. Now, this became something of an arms race; once GamerGate found out about it they made secondary accounts that followed different people, and more and more prominent figures appeared and had to get added to the list. But, when it first launched, the list generated from just these five people comprised an estimated 90-95% of GamerGate.
Hate to break it to you, guys, but if 90+ percent of your movement is following at least two of the same five people, those are your leaders. The attention economy has produced them. Power pools when left on its own.
This is another case where you have to ignore what people claim and look at what they do. The Alt-Right loves to say “we disavow Richard Spencer” and “Andrew Anglin doesn’t speak for us.”
But no matter what they say, pay attention to whom they’re taking cues from.
AD CAMPAIGN
George Lakoff has observed that one way the Left fails in opposition to the Right is that most liberal politicians and campaigners have degrees in things like law and political science, where conservative campaigners more often have degrees in advertising and communications. Liberals and leftists may have a better product to sell, but conservatives know how to sell products.
GamerGate less resembles a boots-on-the-ground political movement than an ad campaign. First they decide what their messaging strategy is going to be. Then the media arm starts publicizing it. They seek out celebrity endorsements. They get their own hashtag and mascot. They donate to charity and literally call it “public relations.” You can even see the move from The Quinnspiracy to GamerGate as a rebranding effort - when one name got too closely associated with harassment, they started insisting GamerGate was an entirely separate movement from The Quinnspiracy. I learned that trick from Stringer Bell’s economics class.
Now, we could stand to learn a thing or two from this. But I also wouldn’t want us to adopt this strategy whole hog; you should view moves like these as red flags. If you’re hesitating to condemn a movement because what if it’s legitimate, take a look at whether they’re selling ideology like it’s Pepsi.
PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING
One reason to insist you’re a consumer revolt rather than a harassment campaign is most people who want to harass need someone to give them permission, and need someone to tell them it’s normal.
Bob Altemeyer has this survey he uses to study authoritarianism. He divides respondents into people with low, average, and high authoritarian sentiments, and then tells them what the survey has measured and asks, “what score do you think is best to have: low, average, or high?”
People with low authoritarian sentiments say it’s best to be low. People with average authoritarian sentiments also say it’s best to be low. But people with high authoritarian sentiments? They say it’s best to be average. Altemeyer finds, across all his research, that reactionaries want to aggress, but only if it is socially acceptable. They want to know they are the in-group and be told who the out-group is. They don’t particularly care who the out-group is, Altemeyer finds they’ll aggress against any group an authority figure points to, even, if they don’t notice it, a group that contains them. They just have to believe the in-group is the norm.
This is why they have to believe games journalism is corrupt because of a handful of feminist media critics with outsized influence. Legitimate failures of journalism cannot be systemic problems rooted in how digital media is funded and consumed; there cannot be a legitimate market for social justice-y media. It has to be manipulation by the few. Because, if these things are common, then, even if you don’t like them, they’re normal. They’re part of the in-group. Reactionary politics is rebellion against things they dislike getting normalized, because they know, if they are normalized, they will have to accept them. Because the thing they care about most is being normal.
This is why the echo chamber, this is why Fox News, this is why the Far Right insists they are the “silent majority.” This is why they artificially inflate their numbers. This is why they insist facts are “biased.” They have to maintain the image that what are, in material terms, fringe beliefs are, in fact, held by the majority. This is why getting mocked by Stephen Colbert was such a blow to GamerGate. It makes it harder to believe the world at large agrees with them.
This is why, if you’re trying to change the world for the better, it’s pointless to ask their permission. Because, if you change the world around them, they will adapt even faster than you will.
THE ARGUMENT ISN’T SUPPOSED TO END
Casey Explosion has this really great Twitter thread comparing the Alt-Right to Scary Terry from Rick and Morty. His catchphrase is “you can run but you can’t hide, bitch.” And Rick and Morty finally escape him by hiding. And Morty’s all, “but he said we can’t hide,” and Rick is like, “why are we taking his word on this? if we could hide, he certainly wouldn’t tell us.”
The reason to argue with a GamerGater is on the implied agreement that, if you can convince them they’re part of a hate mob, they will leave. But look at the incentives here: they want to be in GamerGate, and you want them not to be. But they’re already in GamerGate. They’re not waiting on the outcome of this argument to participate. They’ve already got what they want; they don’t need to convince you GamerGate isn’t a hate mob.
This is why all their logic and rationalizations are shit, because they don’t need to be good. They’re not trying to win an argument. They’re trying to keep the argument going.
This has been a precept of conservative political strategy for decades. “You haven’t convinced us climate change is real and man-made, you need to do more studies.” They’re not pausing the use of fossil fuels until the results come in. “You haven’t convinced us there are no WMDs in Iraq, you need to collect more evidence.” They’re not suspending the war until you get back to them. “You haven’t convinced us that Reaganomic tax policy causes recessions, let’s just do it for another forty years and see what happens.” And when the proof comes in, they send us out for more, and we keep going.
The biggest indicator you can’t win a debate with a reactionary is they keep telling you you can. The biggest indicator protest and deplatforming works is they keep telling you in plays into their hands. The biggest indicator that you shouldn’t compromise with Republicans is they keep saying doing otherwise is stooping to their level. They’re not going to walk into the room and say, “Hi, my one weakness is reasoned argument, let’s pick a time and place to hash this out.”
And we fall for it because we’re trying to be decent people. Because we want to believe the truth always wins. We want to bargain in good faith, and they are weaponizing our good faith against us. Always dangling the carrot that the reason they’re like this is no one’s given them the right argument not to be. It’s all just a misunderstanding, and, really, it’s on us for not trying hard enough.
But they have no motivation to agree with us. Most of the people asking for debates have staked their careers on disagreeing with us. Conceding any point to the Left could cost them their livelihood.
WHY GAMES?
Let’s close with the big question: why games? And, honestly, the short answer is:
why not games?
Games culture has always presented itself as a hobby for young, white, middle class boys. It’s always been bigger and more diverse than that, but that’s how it was marketed, and that’s who most felt they belonged. As gaming grows bigger, there is suddenly room for those marginal voices that have always been there to make themselves heard. And, as gaming becomes more mainstream, it’s having its first brushes with serious critical analysis.
This makes the people who have long felt gaming was theirs and theirs alone anxious and a little angry. They’ve invested a lot of their identity in it and they don’t want it to change.
And what the Far Right sees in a sizable collection of aggrieved young men is an untapped market. This is why sites like Stormfront and Breitbart flocked to them. These are not liberals they have to convert, these people are, up til now, not politically engaged. The Right can be their first entry to politics.
The world was changing. Nerd properties were exploding into popular culture in tandem with media representation diversifying. And we were living with the first Black President. Any time an out-group looks like it might join the in-group, there is a self-protective backlash from the existing in-group. This had been brewing for a while, and, honestly, if it hadn’t boiled over in games, it would have boiled over somewhere else.
And, in the years since GamerGate, it has. The Far Right has tapped the comics, Star Wars, and sci-fi fandoms; they tried to get in with the furry community but failed spectacularly. They’re all over YouTube and, frankly, the atheist community was already in their pocket. Basically, if you’re in community with a bunch of young white guys who think they own the place, you might wanna have some talks with them sooner than later.
Anyway, if you want to know more about any of this stuff, RationalWiki’s timeline on GamerGate is pretty thorough. You can also watch my or Dan Olson’s videos on the subject. I’ll be putting the audio of this talk on YouTube and will put as many resources as I can in the show notes. The channel, again, is Innuendo Studios.
Sorry this was such a bummer.
Thank you for your time.
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Paint a Picture (Alt. Ending) | Connor Brashier
A/n: This was supposed to be a part 2, but after a lot of thinking, I realized that a part 2 wouldn’t be right. So here is what the ending was actually going to be in the first place. This is also very much for @mariamuses who wanted to start a petition for a part 2 😂
Read part 1 here
Warnings: well that would just give the ending away so… idk man (she still has a thing for his eyes, I don’t know what to tell you.
Word count: 1.2k
***
I sigh and place the art sleeve next to the letter. Then I zip up my back and with one final look at my work, I turn to leave the studio, but just as I’m reaching the door, Shawn walks in - of course with Connor and Brian behind him.
“Hey! We came to see the final thing! I’m so excited! Are you leaving?” Shawn asks.
“Yeah, I don’t - I don’t really like to stay and watch people critique; it makes me nervous. But, it’s done. So if you have problems with it, you have my number. I promise I can come and fix it. Not a problem at all.”
We exchange our pleasantries and goodbyes that he makes me promise aren’t actual goodbyes while the guys go into the booth to look at the piano. When I see Connor pull the art sleeve off the music rack, my breathing picks up, so I tell Shawn very quickly that I have to go and I leave the studio without a glance back.
I rush to the elevator and curse to myself when it starts dinging at each floor, meaning it has already gone back down. I hear the click of a door just down the hall and I know it’s from Shawn’s studio, so now I’m slightly panicking. The doors finally open though and just as I step in when I hear that voice I haven’t heard in days.
It’s rushed and desperate, “Y/n?” he says, standing in front of me. His mouth is opening and closing like he wants to say something, but the elevator doors start to close and he quickly puts his hand out to stop them.
Then he’s rushing into the elevator with me and allowing the doors to shut behind him. He lets out a few deep breaths, from that I can tell he probably ran to catch up with me. “You can’t - you can’t just walk away like that.”
“Connor-”
“No, please. I know I was a complete dick. I know that. I overreacted. I just, I don’t know. Some part of me was - my ego, my ego was hurt. That’s what it was. And there was no reason for it, honestly.”
I shake my head, “I didn’t mean to make it a big deal. I simply wanted to know that we were on the same page, and it’s very clear that we weren’t. I didn’t think. I was being selfish.”
“No,” he reaches for my wrist and I can’t help but stare at where we’re now touching. “No, you weren’t. You were right. I was being selfish. I only thought about what I wanted, not what was going to make you comfortable. I knew it wouldn’t bother me what the guys said about if we suddenly showed up as more than friends. But it’s different for you. I understand that now. I never want to put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable. Not ever. So I am so sorry that I did. And I am so sorry for the way I reacted. You didn’t deserve any of that.” He lets out a deep breath when the elevator dings, signaling that we’ve reached the ground floor.
“You’re right. I didn’t,” I say, slipping out of the elevator, only for him to follow me.
“I want to make it up to you,” he says when we reach the door.
“There’s nothing to make up, Connor.”
“Yes there is. Please. Please, just -”
“Just what?”
He sighs and stops for a minute, collecting his thoughts I presume. “The way I acted was awful. I know that now and I knew that then. I had no reason to act that way, to get mad at you for simply asking what we were going to say. I should have listened to you instead of talking over you. I want to fix that. I want to work on that.”
“There’s no point in working on it. I’m done with the piano, there’s no reason for us to even interact anymore,” I say, even though it hurts me so much to hear it.
“There is a reason,” he nods. “There is. I like you. I like you so much, y/n, it’s unreal. And I want to be with you in any form you’ll have me. I just need a second chance. No,” he shakes his head. “I would genuinely be so grateful for a second chance to try and fix this if that’s something you would be interested in.”
I take in a deep breath, “I don’t know what I want. But I do know that I don’t like the way we ended things.”
He shakes his head, “No, no. I don’t either.”
“I think, if it’s something that we both want, then we could try again. But - you can’t freak out on me the next time I ask what we are.”
“I won’t. But, hopefully, next time you don’t have to ask. You’ll know.”
I nod once, “I would like that.”
“Yeah? Me too.”
I look up at him, like really look up at him for the first time in days and I don’t know how I couldn’t see it before. His beautiful green-blue eyes hold such sadness - they’re not sparkling in the way that I’m used to seeing them. I reach forward and caress the side of his face. He melts into my touch, taking hold of my wrist to keep me there. “Honey, where are those sparkly eyes, huh?”
“They’ll come back. Promise. Just have to keep looking at you, angel,” he says softly, his face growing hot.
I smile softly and shake my head, “You’re something else, Brashier.”
He chuckles and takes a step forward, resting his forehead against mine. “Y/n?”
“Hmm?” I hum, still running my thumb over his cheekbone.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I nod against him.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asks breathlessly.
I can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of me. “You’re asking me on a date.”
“Yeah,” his free hands rest gently on my hip and my skin burns underneath his fingertips. “You absolutely can say no. I just, I wanna make this right.”
“Well, I’ll have to think about it.”
Connor nods and pulls back, “Yeah, of course. Take your time.” He nods again. “I should actually get back up there,” he points behind him.
I laugh lightly at his flustered behavior. “Okay. I’ll text you?”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay. Good.” I turn around to walk out the door when I turn back. “Hey, Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll go on that date with you.”
His smile, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so big. “Really?”
“Really.”
Before I know it, I’m back in his arms and his lips are covering mine and I can finally breathe again. I take him all in. He’s so close. So firm and real against me. I want to stay here forever, chasing his lips. Nothing sounds better than that. At least not until we pull away. His eyes are still closed, lips puckered into that ever so beautiful pout of his. But when they open again, I feel my heartbeat against my chest. I know I’m staring at him like an absolute idiot. A love sick puppy.
He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I reach up and run my finger over his lips. “Those pretty eyes are back.”
***
I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback.
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Hey Can I ask for a self ship date pls ? I’m a 18yo girl who is 173 cm of chaos and my heart has been stolen by Kise Ryouta from KNB 😩.
We may be very different, he’s more of a warm and a social person while i’m cold in the clouds and ambiverted but his smile, his laugh and how he’s dedicated in basketball made me lose it. I find his whole personality interesting even the more cold and ugly parts of him and he has the pretty face for him too but i’m not the kind of person who can just fall for apparence. He have such a voice too 😳 He has that charming aura, playful but yet still lighthearted and funny. He being two-faced surprisingly don’t bother me that much somehow i understand from where hes coming from. I relate a lot to his overachiever and need to handle all things himself to the point of hurting. As a basketb fan i am also enamored w his way of playing, i gen think he is the best of gom he always do his best to the point of barely breathing and honestly i relate to this too when im into something i love. His quick learning abilities are hyper and i like how Kise try to be honest w himself. I like also the balance he have w masculine and feminine energy and don’t mind him being a dork. His relationship w others characters are gold too like w Aomine and i can see him showing me affection to my touch starved self and just general affection i lack in general even if i don’t say it. Also i can imagine a certain dynamic between us where no one is the lead of the couple but we’re on equal terms.
Now more about me i am an ENTP 8w7, I am independent, creative, honest, prideful and « generous » i don’t think that last one much but my close one describe me like this. I’m very curious, likes experimenting and new things. I am funny/sarcastic, playful and as it iam very memeable but surprisingly top student here who doesn’t behave like it at all both in class and just in general. My aesthetic is a weird mix of everything i love so i am both a tomboy, alt and a baddie somehow. I am into law and economics studies and can talk french, korean and spanish as i learn languages in my free time by myself. I do read, write, draw and listen to music, play all sort of games including sports, get on a walk from time to time, eat cuz food is delicious and just learn in general. I have kind of ✨trust issues ✨so i don’t have many friends. But you sure will have fun w me ! I don’t about chill i have some temper but sure im pretty cool and open minded ! In love i really am a mess, i’m easily flustered but act cool to hide it and because of that i look like someone confident and mysterious except i am not the first one and ugh im lowkey a tsundere so it’s difficult to assume my feelings. But i swear i try !
Thank you for reading me ! I hope i didn’t bother you much.
You didn't bother me at all hun! This was a lot of fun to write so I hope you enjoy :) I think I have a pretty fun date planned for you two if I do say so myself hehe.
Premise: Kise got to know you throughout high school, and saw you as different from his other fangirls. Even though it wasn’t basketball, you also stood out at the top of your class, making you noticeable to Kise. You were actually a good friend (a cute friend at that) and he decided that he wanted to take you on a date during your 3rd year (once the basketball season was over and he had time to make for you). Knowing how fun you are, he had the perfect plan.
As you look into the mirror to examine your outfit, your phone buzzes with the “I’m hereeee ;)” text. You’d decided to lean into your tomboy vibes, given that Kise told you to ‘get ready to do stuff,’ which was not very informative, but exciting nonetheless.
As you walk out, you’re greeted by the blonde man dressed handsome as ever, a dark long sleeve shirt with fitting jeans, his silver hoop shining as the sun starts to set.
“Ready Y/N-chi?” He asks you, smiling as he overdramatically offers his hand for you to grab.
“Ready as ever~” you say as you grab his hand. He pulls you close and winks, flustering you right from the start.
“If I remember correctly, you said something about this being the best date I ever go on?” You take your chance to poke fun at him as well.
“Oh honey, it will be.” You can see the way his eyes shine and his mischievous grin as he walks with a nice hop in his step, guiding you towards the train station.
The train ride was pleasant, his hands protectively on your shoulder and a mean glare on his pretty features when other men looked at you or got too close, but his face was calm as he comfortably bantered with you (you on the other hand were quite unbothered by it all). Once you finally arrived at your destination, you found yourself in the lively district of the city, flooded with restaurants and shops all open late night.
“I forgot how beautiful this area is at night!” You can’t help but say as you look at all the beautiful lights and architecture.
“I had to take a pretty girl to a pretty place, you know?” He squeezes your hand as he drags you along once again, until you end up at your destination.
“I think this’ll be a lot of fun,” he says to you as he pushes open the doors to the arcade, letting all the dark lights and glowing games illuminate your sight.
He buys the coins for you both to play (He’d asked prior if it’d be okay for him to pay for you this date, and you’d agreed), and you set off to play all sorts of games.
It was a lot of fun for the both of you. While the games were enjoyable, playing them with him made it all the better. He also never missed an opportunity to flirt with you, and playing games made it easy. Both of you being overachievers, with Kise being a quick learner and you being open to trying new things made the experience amazing.
“Here, stand like this and loosen your wrists up for a better shot.” you both were playing the basketball game, and to no surprise Kise had absolutely killed it. Now here he is, helping adjust your shot. Standing behind you, he lightly adjusts your waist, turning you a little bit to help your footing. His hands then move up to your shoulders, then down to your wrists, helping guide your form and placement on the ball. While you were learning from him, it was hard to focus with him this close to you. “Y/N-chi, you can focus on me later. You should focus on your shot for now.” He says lowly, teasingly, watching carefully as your face erupts into red. He really did love teasing you, the usually calm, collected, confident top student.
Admittedly, you feel like you got back at him when you watch him try the crane game (the ones filled with stuffed animals) and he couldn’t get it after 7 tries. The frustration was clear in his face, his impatience rising.
“This game is rigged, I know it!”
You ask to try and of course he complies. However, he’s not ready for you to get a cute little stuffed panda on your first try. Suddenly, he’s a lot more embarrassed than you were earlier.
“You definitely used magic or something.” His pout is both adorable and hilarious to you.
You laugh as you hand him the panda. “Here!”
Looking down at the panda and then looking back up at you, he asks, “for me? But you won it!”
“But I want you to have it. It’s cute like you, Kise-kun.”
A huge smile crosses his face as he pulls you into a hug, spinning you around. “Y/n-chi!!!! You’re so generous!! Giving me your stuffed panda~ I’ll take good care of it.”
You have a nice laugh as you watch Kise end the night out by playing Dance Dance Revolution, not afraid to be a bit flamboyant as he goes all out with the footwork and does really well at the game.
After collecting all your tickets, Kise takes you up to the rewards table, telling you that he knows exactly what he wants to get.
“And we have enough tickets for it! Great.”
You can’t help but smile when Kise points to the GIANT stuffed panda hanging on the wall.
“I thought you weren’t the type to return favors,” you recall what he said during a game with Seirin from a long while back.
He blushes, thinking about what he said. “I’m not, just one upping you,” he jokes, sticking his tongue out at you, letting you nudge him in return.
“Do you wanna get food, Y/N-chi?” He asks, his arm wrapped around your shoulder.
“Sure, from where?”
“You decide. I decided on the arcade, you can decide dinner.” He looks at you with a smile, thinking back on how fun the whole night had been. “But I get to decide dinner next time.”
“Next time?” You shoot back, eyebrows raised, a smile forming on your face. “Who said I’d go out with you a next time?”
At your comment, his smile falters as he stares at you for a good second. He gets all serious suddenly, pulling you close (with a giant panda pressed into your side) and making you look into his eyes. “Y/N-chi, would you please go out with me again? Tell me you will!”
Giggling, you smile up at him. “Of course, Kise-kun.”
He sighs out and hums in approval, before pressing a small kiss onto your cheek. “Call me Ryouta.”
~~
Ahhh I hope you enjoyed it! I tried to incorporate as many elements as I could! Please do let me know what you think <3 this was so fun!!!!
#knb#knb matchup#kuroko no basquet#kuroko no basket#kise ryouta#kise fluff#CSC hits 200#colorseeingchick milestone
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ok, so.
I made a youtube video, of me narrating Ashita no Joe episode 4.
I was wondering for awhile if it would be ok to upload a video that’s just directly an anime episode of Ashita no Joe.
I thought partly, maybe it would be ok, since that anime came out like before 1970 or something so maybe it’s free domain,
but nah. It is blocked. I can’t find the video at all.
but, that isn’t going to stop me..
I will do the impossible, (even though I am depressed, about someone I know. irl)
and narrate Ashita no Joe episode 4.
I made a whole video of me narrating it with my voice. but it’s blocked aaaa. I refuse to let it go, though.
giga..drill...breakeriswhat I’d say but I am too depressed about someone I know irl.
Ok so anyways, this was gonna be a YouTube video, especially cuz-- [had to delete the explanation] anyways here:
[deleted stuff.....] ...
anyways here:
oh shizzat its 4am I’m fluffin’ tired. so I’m just gonna skim the episode and post screenshots argh my foot is pulsating as I type that as if my entire body is thinking “wow I know you re-watched Ashita no Joe episodes again yesterday but you should watch the whole episode again its godly” I’m sorry ewotjwte its just almost 4am and I had to wake up at 10am yesterday.
the opening plays. and then:
that one guy that is like my dad reads about my stuff
Jebus freakin’ RICE I’m tired. But I need to do something productive today cuz after I woke up at 10am for my social worker I was tired and drained all day from hearing the voices of the people upstairs and the noise in the wall.
my dad I mean Danpai keeps reading the newspaper (like how in -- gah nevermind [deleted cuz I’m paranoid about what [NEVERMIND deleted the explanation]] and
my freakin’ dad I mean Danpai gets mad at Joe just like
I DELETED [can’t say] like 8 years ago cuz of that time when I [=/ Can’t say the details]
GOSH DARN IT this is just like something irl and I can’t even say what it is because I’m too paranoid about people [deleted explanation here]
ok so basically Joe is super successful and doing good things in this world but no one believes him cuz his stupid azz danpai adopted dad figure is a dumb bummie, and then
and then I wanna explain 99 lines but we’re not even 2 minutes into the episode, so I guess I have to skip some parts; I mean it is 4am after all
and then
ok so there’s this snobby lady (at the time ? perhaps she changes at the very very very very end but I won’t give any spoilers about how the very final episode goes itjewiot btw I literally watched this anime starting from the very last episode cuz someone said this series has best ending in anime/manga of all time, and then I started back at early episodes after that, when I first watched this however years ago,)
and then
yes we printed this article cuz .. you’re trustworthy and popular but Joe is just an unpopular guy who helps out orphans and gives his money away to help out orphans
ya know how when I watched the first 11 episode with [won’t say but the guy that begins with Sau and ends with ce that I was friends with for 15 years and he kept making fun of it multiple times in the chat saying “More like a shit a joe.”] well these guys are like wow Joe is a delinquent cuz he is helping out orphans
wow Yabuki Joe used an alt account or some shiz and made a complete lie to try to help society for the better like making a peaceful game and then I mean boxing I mean waterver and then
no one believes ni the main character Joe who is LITERALLY helping out local orphans; and they’re basically like just jealous of him and twisting the truth to make him look bad is what these snobby popular people are doing t hat actually have friends unlike the wondering loner Joe Yabuki,
this very popular snobby lady who actually has friends unlike ab- Yabuki Joe doesn’t care that Joe is actually being helpful and wants to make projects that will bring peace to this world, she will not give him a chance because she cares more about appearances and keeping up her reputation.
....She takes on the full pressure and responsibilty. But can she handle it?
they’re basically like “uhhh do you have [deleted in case it comes off as offensive, since I know some others that make fun of that stuff >=\ which I don’t like either cuz I get made fun of [the deleted thing] too . It shouldn’t even have to be deleted >=\ but I was in a [DELETED] and they made fun of [the deleted thing] so I guess it has to be [deleted] which is so sad for this world ??] and so
the really cool person who *doesn’t reveal spoilers of the end of the series aa* says please leave Train- Yabuki Joe to me !!
i have faith in him he totally will not somehow break this faith that I vaguely have in him and am kinda too shy to publicly admit..
I wonder what Joe is feeling like right now and doing:
s o anyways Joe keeps laughing 99 times in this episode, and, cuz he knows he’s right and just helping out orphans and people that aren’t popular and too afraid to join the b- never mind.
some of his followers don’t respond to his long rants and are like maybe he is going too far and should back down fro mthe very popular snobby lady
Yabuki Joe laughs again
he says What’s the matter with you!? Stop siding with the very popular lady that actually has friends and a good reputation who is a stuck up and like do what is right instead of what . will make people think better of you even if you know in your hear that maybe it might be wrong.
The snobby lady posted on Twit- I mean irl the anime known as Ashita no Joe the they posted a screenshot of me saying “I have family.....” and they mocked him saying “Um.... I have family too....?” as her followers mocked Yabuki Joe on twitter in the 1970s anime or something,
but family isn’t what matters, everyone has family,
what matters is that you all still have a poor reputation because you have no friends which I think is 100% ok but the stuck-up lady who hates Joe for some reason atm just cares about how they’re rich in [deleted snarky remarks] reputation.
stop caring about the dislikes and haters and appreciate the supporters that you do have;;.
yabuki Joe says F THE HATERS THIS IS Just the beginning of [would say but I wanna here but X_X; [deleted the reason why I won’t] because of [deleted] because of [deleted]]
,y gpa; s 1 million followers cuz then they at least know what is right
in this world.
and then joe is like
and then;
then he’s like yea in my heart I know its good to have that many followers cuz I know the true true truth about Yabuki Joe the anime and manga character from Ashita no Joe, he just wants that many followers to program an indie game about- I mean anyways
they say
[OK WHAT THEH ECK I SERIOUSLY DID RECORD A VIDEO OF ME JUST NARRATING THIS ENTIRE EPISODE AND I uploaded it yesterday on a video sharing site but it is blocked cuz of copyrighted content aaa even though this was from before 1970 aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa now I gotta explain in text instead of voice like I already did last night AAAAAAAAAAaa]
they say But what would you do with that much power, that many internet I mean irl followers in 197o in Ashita no Joe the anime/manga series?
and then Yabuki Joe says teh
then he’s like What the gosh darn shiz in yoshville mans,
and then
and they’re like Look Yabuki Joe lives in a Terrible place with Terrible living conditions wher e brick dust keeps falling down and then
and like Joe has no problems like getting kawaii innocent ppl to follow him, but the others are a bit suspicious.. of Joe and his behavior..
Joe is like i’m gonna build a huge online hamster game soon.
and then someone tells Abu in tumblr messages I mean they tell
Someone tells Yabuki Joe as you can see if you flippin’ watch the episode yourself (I don’t blame you. I hope someone will check this series out, though. It’s my favorite anime series, to be honest.) anyways and then someone from his fandom of - anyways someone says
He’s so full of himself.
I guess you suffer from delusions of grandeur?
the bully who is even in the same exact fandom as ab- Yabuki Joe of being an orphan says that, and because they’re so big inside, people blindly listen to them.
the true actual innocent follower that knows trainerab- Yabuki Joe is actually honest and truthful is like, wow shut the fak up brah, and then:
Then the “Are you sure you don’t suffer from delusions of grandeur?” doubtful follower who is keeping an eye on Ab-Yabuki Joe I mean and watching over him to try to keep the orphanage safe falsely then says “This is a clown. See this clown? Abu is hiring th I mean Yabuki Joe had this younger person defend him” Wow and then
one of the only innocent ppl in this show besides Yabuki Joe and a bunch of later characters in this series in later episodes that happen soon, know Joe really is telling the truth and that he really is honest and she’s pizzed awf at that hater troll person trying to Provoke joe and such on [deleted] anime & manga series Ashita no Joe the anime/manga series, and then
then they’re like, uh oh maybe Joe does have some loyal followers who know the real truth and we should hold our distance and see what he does and what he is truly like, first, and then
so, then
so then Yabuki Joe shows them their steam profile and the gam I mean the BY- I mean
Joe is like ok I played retro games my whole life and watched cool cartoons like the Rugrats and I play cool games and twisted trolls like the snobby girl try to make it look like I “change my interests to appease others” but come into my YouTube channel office and c the truth that I really DID play a lot of SNES games and then
I mean Yabuki Joe says this is my office and this is where I live,
I live in a factory that rains brick dust,
and then,
AND THEN I WANNA NARRATE THIS ENTIRE EPISODE BUT IT IS FREAKIN’ 4:35am and I gotta get up soon
I mean I flippin’ already narrated this entire episode and commented on it etc. and made a cool video of it but YouTube blocked it AAAAAAAA even tho it was an anime made in
1970 I thought it would be free domain by now and o.k. to upload a video of it to YouTube with audio commentary GOSH AAAaaaa GOSH I WANNA NARRATE THE WHOLE EPISODE
AS I SAID IN THE youtube video that is blocked on YouTube I think it is a requirement cuz like it really pejeroyjoirjyorejijioe
ok have a nice night.
#Ashita no Joe#anime#manga#Megalo Box#screencap#screengrab#screencaps#screen caps#boxing#series#1970#best#relatable#The best series ever#imo
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Heyy could I get a matchup please? I’m a pansexual non binary person excepting and loving to all, I have short black hair and I am 5’1. Tbh I’m more interested in the 1A boys but I do love all the pro hero’s and the villains too. I can be shy at first but once you get to know me I can be very chaotic and alt. I’m very open minded and understanding no matter what your situation is and I am very patient, I rarely get angry. I also do a lot of art from pairing to potter and photography, I love to try new things. I also love your work so much and I hope your doing well 💕
Thank you! 🥰 It means a lot! I hope your doing week in this time ☺️💙 sorry it took over a month 😅 but! I’ll make it up to you! And! The other four waiting....and the few in my inbox! Well! I hope you like it!
✨✨✨✨🤍✨✨✨✨🤍✨✨✨✨
✨Denki✨
Kaminari, you wouldn’t think five inches is enough for him to look down and bully you about your height. But...honestly? You couldn’t be mad at it considering it’s what made your friendship with the blonde bloom.
Then again, when you first met him you were kind of a wreck and didn’t have the guts to tell him, “I’m not an arm rest stop leaning on my shoulder.” Instead you let it be, fidgeting fingers and looking ahead until her smiled brightly at you, “SHORT FRIENDS ARE GREAT!” he looked down at you eyes closed, “I should keep you around more.”
Well, after that you were adopted by, THE BAKUSQUAD! Bakugo not really caring, but when Kirishima and Denki followed him around he always made sure to grab you and drag you with them, because “I WAS SCARED AND PANICKED! I DIDN’T WANNA BE ALONE!”
So, for the first and second week he treated you like a quiet kid, mostly starting conversation until you got into a comfortable groove, and he almost died seeing how you really turned out. YOU started to bully him, when he entered his short circuit, the jokes you made, but still, you took care of him making sure he didn’t get into trouble or hurt. At times you’d become a bit impulsive and your chaotic side came out.
“MOVE! IM GONNA DO IT!” You screamed “Y/n! NO! I LIKE YOU BETTER ALIVE!” He screamed. Silence, you moved your head, trying to pull back, but no luck, your eyes moved in panic looking at Denki, his own eyes wide before he started laughing. You tried to move your head regretting it instantly. Your right hand came up, forefinger and thumb pulling at your tongue that was now stuck to the pole you had made victim to your weird antics. “mm thuck.”
you have great goofy moments together, but the moment he hears Bakugo screaming and silence, and then he hears you screaming? Hah, no. All relations are canceled/expired/rejected/blocked/denied/gone. He likes being alive, and right now, you were a threat to his life, so “Oh, uh yeah I got a thing to do in the other ro-“ RUN
he’s more than great full to have you around, your patient with him when he just can’t do something but he’s determined to. Like the month he dragged you of the dorms every night, because “IM GOING TO GET THROUGH THIS HAUNTED HOUSE WITHOUT SCREAMING.” The haunted house opened the first of October, and ended on Halloween, it was terrible, at one point he passed out, another frothed at the mouth, his screams were priceless, he clung to you more than a few times crying about being scared. Decked a few jump scare people, and at least twice went into Pikachu self defense mode and electrocuted the groups of workers around the two of you at least twice. Honestly, you were surprised they let you both keep coming back. But the last day, he managed to only let out squeaks and squeeze your arm and hands but he did it. Thirty one long nights of walking the same halls, jump scares, and voids, mesmerizing the right way of the maze, you mad wit out fine, he was only slightly shook.
Art? Denki doesn’t get it, claimed he can’t draw to save his life and when you watched him try you believed him, BUT THE COMPLETE AND UTTER SHOCK WHEN YOU FOUND OUT HE WAS BASICALLY AN ART MAJOR WHEN HE SHORT CIRCUITED..... you started saving his drawings and sketches, and then you’d show him and he’d be impressed, but completely denies that he ever did it. “Nope, you got the wrong guy, you’ve seen me, I can’t draw a circle.” But he loves to watch you paint, and take photos, but don’t take him to wildlife sets with you. He will get hired of waiting for birds and throw himself on the grass and start sighing loudly and rolling around, “Nothings coming y/n!” “MAYBE IF YOU SHUT UP THE BIRDS WOULDNT FLY AWAY LIKE ITS THE END OF THE WORLD!” Silence, you can definitely feel him staring you, “Well that’s just rude.... you scared off the only bird that was actually here.” Pottery? He watched you, and he wanted to try, the first time he ended up slinging clay everywhere, second he can’t keep his hands still enough, the third time you took pity and ended up like the cheesiest movie scene, but, you were behind him guiding his hands, he became a flustered mess and crushed the almost pot when you spoke to him and he felt your breath on his shoulder. He was blushing and flustered and then started apologizing for ruining the pot... in the end you both together did make a lopsided pot, it now sits in your room, home to your shared black prince succulent. When you brought it home he made anyone who would listen come see his first pot and new child.
⚡️✨✨⚡️⚡️✨⚡️⚡️⚡️✨⚡️⚡️✨✨⚡️
“Y/n?” You heard knocking and groaned getting up off your bed to open your door.
“I brought someone else to meet prince...” the look you gave him was one of ‘Are you sERIOUS?’
You closed your door a bit to look at the digital clock that was hanging just above your desk, 1:37 in the morning...
“It couldn’t wait till sun up?” You asked eyes kinda squinty as the hall light started to flood into your room now that you opened the door wider to let whoever in.
“It’s important everyone knows my new son!” He stepped in and you moved and plopped onto your desk chair.
“Alright, but be careful, you bruised one of his petals last time.” You stretched and looked at your abandoned school work, you looked at it reading the question you had struggled on, and by some miracle, being half groggy and half awake, you read it and the answer came to you. You started to write it down before you forgot. And you were so proud of yourself, until you heard the feminine voice.
“Kaminari, you’re an idiot.” And then a slightly muffled laugh.
You didn’t have a problem with Jiro, in fact you liked her as a friend, she was nice, had good taste in music, bullied Denki with you sometimes, friendly and you’ve never seen her angry or get snobbish with anyone. She was laid back and cool.
But, one thing you didn’t like, was the fact she was slowly becoming the center of Denki’s flirting. Jealous? Nahh....well....no.... maybe a little? Nope, nah that’s not it.......okay yeah.
“Y/n Chan! Jiro is bullying me.” He came and shook you by your shoulders pulling you from staring at your school work.
You turned your head to look up at him. “What?” You asked.
“She called me an idiot.” He pouted and closed his eyes.
You laughed and dropped a hand onto his head, after he kneeled to plead you defend him, “Oh Denki, if you want me to disagree it’s gonna be a long night.”
He pouted at your words but sighed in defeat, until the next words came, “So (y/n), if Denki’s son is in your room does that make you the mother of his son?”
You looked at Jiro a faint blush tinting your cheeks as you registered what she said. You gave a few quiet laughs but before you could say anything Denki became a stuttering flustered mess. Catching both of you and pulling you both out of the conversation that almost started.
“Well! (Y/n)! Well go! A Princess does need her beauty sleep!” He winked at you as he left in a hurry, Jiro just quirked a brow before she told you good night and you returned it as she left. You yawned and got back into bed, before your phone buzzed and you cursed, but the blush on your cheeks wirsned at the flirty text you’d gotten from Denki, you’d think you’d gotten used to it already, but maybe the feelings you thought you’d pushed away never really left the surface.
‘Good night princess 😉 Don’t forget to dream about me 💛’
Cringe yes, but that’s literally the best flirting line he has. Apparently getting comfortable with Denki meant he was comfortable flirting with you 24/7, no hesitation. And you enjoyed the attention and flirted back with him, but things kinda changed when Jiro started to give him attention too.
******
“Mornin’ babe,” you yawned at Denki’s greeting and gave a wave and small smile as you walked to a table and plopped down. You didn’t get much sleep, you finished your homework so now you had the weekend free, but what were you going to do? You stared at the empty table in front of you thinking about nothing, head empty, until Mina came and sat across from you, “So babe huh? Is it official!” She whisper screamed.
“Pfft, just about as official as me being All Might.” You had a small smile, small but genuine. “Boooooooo.” She pouted, “I have my own theories but I really want to tell you this one, soooo! Bakusquad girls day! But... just you and I. Get ready let’s go!”
So, after deciding you’d buy something to eat instead of cooking you got ready and then both you and Mina set off to talk theories and what’s really going on in her head. “So, I think he wants something serious but since you guys joke so much I think he thinks he’s in the friend zone and don’t even deny it I know you like him, I’ve seen the way you smile at all his stupid jokes even I don’t laugh at all of them and I try to be nice. Plus the way you loook a Jiro is enough to show your jealous but he doesn’t see that, I’m pretty sure he thinks you just don’t like her humor or something, but from what I’ve seen your good friends with her when Denki isn’t around so that lets me believe your jealous of his attention going to someone else. Soooo, what do you say? What do you think? And I think he’s trying with Jiro because you guys kinda have similar personalities and hair cuts? Well not really but you know? When your in love you call broccoli Midoriya and a grenade Bakugo but that’s a different story, so? What do you think?” You just stared at her, the takoyaki had with your toothpick just to far from your lips as you wondered if she was right. A shot smile pulled at your lips as you looked down and closed your eyes to let out a sigh, “Well, I won’t say your wrong, I’ve done lot of things but being in denial has never been one of them. I’m not going to confess or anything but I do have one question.” You looked at Mina through the corner of your eyes while your face was still pointed to the ground. “Yes!” She cheered and nodded looking at you with a big smile, “If this is about a plan I’ve got it all figured out so don’t worry!”
You shook your head and faced her completely, “Nope! Keep the plan well use it later but, if I do something about this Denki thing you have to so something about tape boy.” Mina became flustered at your words but nodded, “well, your first lady she smacked you back causing you to slightly choke on the Takoyaki you’d finally started to eat, after catching your breath and wondering around for a bit you both talked it out and it’s go time.
****
The next morning you started the plan (titled by Mina) “Seducing Pikachu” Taking a deep breath you readied yourself to take your flirting next level, he called you babe you had to call him daddy, he gave you a hug you pulled his face down to peck his cheek, he draped an arm over your shoulders you had snuggle closer and hug his waist, he tried to tease you by taking your hand you can’t pull away, in stead you interlock fingers and squeeze, if he leaned into your ear to whisper something you can’t push him away. And we’re you ready? No, in fact you felt queasy, and like you had to bathroom, but with a shove from Mina you entered the kitchen and like usual “Good morning babe!” And the usual flirty wink, but this time instead of getting flustered or yawing you locked eye contact and with everything you had, “Mornin Daddy.” You smiled at him and walked to the fridge to try and occupy yourself. In the background you heard Mineta screaming about the name daddy. You looked at Denki with the same smile after grabbing a juice and he was flustered, red cheeks and it looked like his hair had fluffed up a bit. It’s working! You waved at him and walked to the common room and sat down on one edge and looked at the tv, it was playing some show about volleyball. Jiro came and sat across from you on the other sofa joining you and a few others in watching this show, right now, the only empty seats are the spot next to you on the love seat, or the two seats beside Jiro. He sat by you and was strangely quiet, oh gave him a smile when he turned to look a you, he smiled and looked at the tv, after an hour or two your hands began fiddling with the juice in your lap and you felt a tug at your hand, you felt Denki place his hand on yours usually you’d pull away and punch his shoulder, but this time. You didn’t take your eyes of the tv when your intertwined your fingers and squeezed his hand. You brought your other hand and squeezed his hand between both of yours and snuggled closer to his side and laid your head against his shoulder, he tensed a bit then relaxed quickly. He laid his head on yours and you eyed Mina real quick, you gave you a thumbs up and you motioned to Sero with your eyes and she stopped and pouted. After another hour you started to get up and pull away from Denki. You felt a hand pull at yours and you looked at Denki, “Where are you going?” You titled your head, “Gonna go buy lunch maybe.” He looked up at you still holding your hand, “Don’t leave me.” He said, “Come with me then.” You gave his arm a tug and without second thought he jumped up outside you were cool, but inside, you were going ballistic, inside you were nothing like usual, you were honestly so surprised that this plan was working, with your attention he didn’t even pay attention to Jiro,,,, were you really jealous?
Getting to a ramen place you both sat down and filled our sheets with your orders, casually sitting in silence your phone dinged, “So.... did he confess? Or do women really have to do all the work, 🙄, Sero didn’t understand what I meant until I- never mind, how’s it going?”
You smiled at the message and shook your head.
Denki being curious why you were smiling tried to peek, “Mina is trying to confess to Sero and she says he’s an idiot.” You smiled and turned to Denki explaining before he could see.
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna say anything sometimes Sero isn’t the smartest.”
You felt a smile pulling at your lips, “Yeah, I know someone else who is just the same.” You propped your elbows on the table and placed your chin on your palms. He did the same and pushed his cheeks so they looked chubby against his palms.
“Kaminari,” you called his name in a chirpy tune with a smile, he closed his eyes and smiled before he said your name in the same way.
****
“How good are you at noticing small things?” I asked and tilted my head. “Hmmm, did you grow out your hair?” His head tilted, and he smiled.
“No? It’s been this short for a while.” I dropped my arms flat against the table palms up, “try again.”
“Yooouuuu,,,, are wearing contacts?” He asked. “I’m not blind.”
“Yoouuuuu.....are trying a different Boba?” “No... well yes, but not what I’m talking about......try one more time and I’ll give you a hint if you can’t guess.”
He nodded and squinted at me looking like he was concentrating hard.
“I know!” He took my hands in his and squeezed them, I felt my heart start to race, “You’re fingers are cold, the tips are turning reddish.”
I smiled and looked away and licked my top lip trying to not laugh, “That wasn’t it but a good guess.”
“Then what is it?” He asked pouting.
“Close your eyes.” I said and waved a hand, he nodded and then closed them, I placed my finger tips on the left side of his jaw and tried to pull him closer, after getting him halfway across the table I leaned forward and lightly pressed my lips against his cheek.
I pulled away, and moved my hand away from his jaw.
“I...so think you should try again, I didn’t get the hint.” He looked away with a bush slowly becoming prominent on his cheek.
I smiled and shook my head, silence fell over us as I shifted around, “Another hint huh?”
“Maybe just one... or two... or a few....” he still didn’t look at me hands now fiddling together.
“You know, for a flirt you sure do get nervous when someone actually makes a move on you.”
“Heh, yeah.” He was smiling but not looking at me, “Sooo, when?”
“Do you remember the day, you got sick and made me baby you for a whole week? It was that Thursday, you feel asleep on my chest, and I held you and had to pull the blanket off, I realized then, how much I cared about you, and how much I’m willing to do to make sure you’re okay. I realized how much I love your terrible jokes and cheesy pick up lines, your warm hugs and the face times late into the night, and the movie nights passing out at three in the morning and rushing to class when we woke up late. Holing your hand when you were scared, and bullying Bakugo, honestly, I wouldn’t wanna die at the hands of Bakugo with anyone else. I’m not saying I love you or anything, but if this is what falling for someone feels like...I don’t not like it, especially when it’s you.” I looked out the window we sat by and could feel his stare, I looked at him through the corner of my eye.
“I wouldn’t want to be murdered with anyone else.” He held his hand out and I tilted my head to look at him, I took placed my hand on his and he smiled, before he shifted his fingers and closed them around mine. I smiled and closed my fingers squeezing his hand.
“So? Are you going to ask?” He said.
I felt my brows furrow, “Ask?”
“Ask me to be your boyfriend.” His smile widened.
“You’re supposed to ask me!” I scolded and shook our hands.
He tucked his head between his shoulders, “okay okay, fine.... now you’re going to wait because you yelled at me.”
***
“Y/n!” I turned to look for the person who called my name, “yeah?” I asked and pulled my blanket tighter, the Christmas season was here and I was freezing on the sofa.
“Come look! The snows falling again! And the it’s pretty on the blossoms that are still around.”
“Fine.” I grumbled and stood up, I walked to the second floor windows and looked out. Sero, Denki, Kirishima and Bakugo were all outside, I could hear Katsuki screaming at them while the ran around dropping things on the floor.
They all stopped and moved away as Bakugo screamed at them and took off his gloves, it looked like he was grumbling something until Denki slung an arm I’ve this shoulders, Bakugo brought up his hand causing sparks and Denki to smile nervously before patting his shoulder and moving his arm off.
Mina tapped on the window and they looked at us, we waved when three of the four waved. Denki turned to Bakugo and with a simple blast a chain reaction started and lit up a circle, inside the circle were the words made in very sparse but still pretty blossoms, “will u be mine?” Your phone began to ring and you answered it.
“So, after two months of non official dating, will you be mine?”
You smiled, “Yes, Kaminari, yes.” You swallowed and over the phone you heard cheering and watched to em high five minus Bakugo who was pulling his gloves back on. That night, you spent under the blue keys you two piled high, his head on your chest, and you kissed his head running your fingers through his hair, “I love listening to your heart, it’s pretty, like you.” Your take his face in your hands and kiss his lips or forehead, and eventually would change spots, still cuddling to keep the warmth and love between you while the rest of the world was slipping into sleep or madness.
✨🤍🖤🤍🤍💙🤍🤍🖤🤍✨
I hope you have a good day, and remember to stay hydrated 💙
#buko no hero academia#my hero academia#mha denki kaminari#mha denki#bnha denki kaminari#bnha denki#bnha matchup#mha matchup#bnha ask blog#mha ask blog#bnha ask#mha ask#bnha blog#mha blog#bnha#mha#bnha kaminari#mha kaminari
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finally. i decided to do this. anyways hello there, i am jake and today i want to talk about something; you see, if you are in the tf2 fandom, you probably know about heavymedic. Wherther you are a hardcore gamer who resents f2p’s or a person that never played the game but has trillions of notes on their art- you know heavymedic exists and most of all you probably ship it.
And I find that weird. In the few fandoms in my life I have been in I had never seen a single ship be so widely if not shipped, then accepted. Sure, maybe everyone in the GF fandom knows what Billdip is - for better or for worse. Sure, maybe the HS fandom is 70% shipping.
But I have never ever seen such a phenomenon in a prominent multiplayer game fandom. A fandom, sadly, oftentimes filled with toxicity. Overwatch is very similar here - yet ships are either a hot topic of discussion or straight up ignored. But TF2? In here for whatever reason we ship these two mercenaries. And in this essay I will try and find a reason or two why is that.
Apologies for any mistakes or incoherency. English is not my first language, I need to ramble, and my vocabulary is all over the place.
Content warning: mentions of homophobia, blood, death, mentions of WLW fetishization, nsfw mention. Also MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE TF2 COMICS.
Part 1: Canonical Evidence and Interactions
Let’s be honest: I could ramble about this one for days on end. But I’ll try and keep it short.
First and foremost we have the official videos. And of course the first thing that comes to mind is Meet the Medic.
At the very start of the part where Medic himself appears, we see him telling a joke about a particularly gruesome situation to Heavy.
He laughs along with him, visibly enjoying his company. He even smiles as he waits for another joke. Heavy only shows genuine fear a lot later.
And of course this damn scene always cracks me up. Medic slightly pinches Heavy’s cheek and strokes his lip gently (the other part is almost not noticeable unless you play the video at slow speed).
Of course we all know about the Hand Hold that happens somewhere halfway in the vid. I don’t think I have to explain the gayness in that. The fact their hands stay interlocked even after Medic helps Heavy up. The deep breath Medic takes because even he cannot handle the emotions. That few seconds is unresolved sexual tension manifest.
Overall the short shows a strong feeling of trust between these two. Medic confides in Heavy and reverse. Yeah he puts a baboon heart into his friend’s chest cavity but the fact (as proven at the end of the video) that Heavy was the first one to have an Ubercharge implanted into him shows that Medic at the very least considers him a lab rat.
I treat End of the Line as non-canonical, as do many others, and as such won’t discuss it here. But it will forever crack me up that Valve endorsed such levels of homoerotic subtext.
These two have some short moments in other videos, like for example in Invasion Heavy helps Medic up (CINEMATIC PARALLELS) but it’s nothing major so I guess I’ll skip forward.
Second is their interactions ingame. You might call me a weirdo for trying to find stuff in there but holy shit I have things to say and I’m going to say them.
You thought I was going to fanboy over the “i love this doktor” voiceline huh? Well not really. I wish these two had unique lines if they assist one another.
Heavy is literally listed on the official wiki as the “ideal medic buddy” and multiple pages on that exact wiki say some pretty interesting things.
I have to say something about the Gentleman’s Ushanka and/or Pocket Medic. They are both community cosmetics - but the fact they both got accepted by Valve says a lot. Above is text snipped from the actual wiki.
Last but not least: The Comics. Darned comics. The pair of mercenaries has basically no interaction - unless you count issue 6.
Heavy getting absolutely PISSED when Medic is killed by Ch*avy. Their reunion. Medic referring to Heavy by “my friend” in a totally straight way. Kind of sad Valve wasted an opportunity for them to hug. Maybe they knew their comic artist ships them and wanted to avoid having to answer the Question™.
Part 2: Dynamics
This part’s a bit trickier, mostly due to the reason that I’m new to this whole dynamic analysis thing. Yeah I’m good at spotting canonical evidence but very specific shipping dynamics often escape my gaze.
The most obvious one is Big Guy, Little Guy. Quoting the TVTROPES page:
[…] This trope describes a pair of guys who always fight together, are best friends forever, and quite often have a very obvious hierarchy: The little guy is often in charge […] The little guy is usually listed first, since he’s the leader, and they are always listed together, as if they are one entity. In fact, some episodes may center on the fact that they can’t live without each other. […] If this is a case of Brains and Brawn, the Big Guy is usually the Brawn, and the Little Guy the Brains. It’s almost never the other way around, but in some cases the Big Guy can be rather smart too. […]
A sub-type of this, a common favorite here on Tumblr is known as “small chaotic big calm” and hoo boy if that isn’t these two. I don’t really have much to say here - again I am not an expert.
Part 3: Fandom Impact
So you don’t think Red Oktoberfest (as Heavymedic is sometimes called) is super popular on anywhere else than Tumblr? Wrong.
It’s hard to find TF2 fics on Archive of Our Own not tagged with Heavy/Medic. Of course most of them only contain hints to their relationship but go in the main tf2 tag and I can guarantee you, you’ll gonna see “implied heavy/medic” all the time.
But these two go further than AO3 or Tumblr or Instagram or whatever. They are recognized even within the wider circle of the fanbase. Take this SFM, for example. (I am using the Saxxy Awards version of Secret Lives here mostly due to the fact that the Heavymedic moment is much gayer. In the normal version, the dialogue isn’t changed, but they simply hold hands.)
youtube
But it gets deeper. (WARNING: THE GAY MOMENT IN THIS ONE IS NSFW. NOT EXPLICITLY SO BUT JUST A HEADS UP TUMBLR PLEASE DO NOT FLAG ME)
youtube
And the best part? The comments are extremely positive. You’d expect hoards upon hoards of homophobes screeching but no, the comments are supportive. Even on places such as Reddit or Youtube, comments like “yeah they’re gay and in love” do not get downvoted/disliked to hell; in fact the opposite.
Part 4: Canon Status
Let’s be real. Most ships are shipped because people want to explore the dynamics in fanfic, fanart or something else. But Heavymedic is shipped because… well, I have no idea.
Actually, I kind of do - but only theories. You see, while the canonical evidence is here, the creators have never said anything about them. No confirmation, no disproval, no hinting, nothing.
But the ship is so prominent! There has to be something causing this!- you say. And to that I present you 2 theories on why Heavy/Medic is so popular.
Theory number 1 states that we simply all choose to interpret their interactions as homoerotic. And this is very easy to disprove - there’s simply no way we just collectively agreed on these matters out of nothing. There has to be something bigger.
And theory 2 states that, well, our interpretation is the desired interpretation. But this is even more ridiculous than theory 1 for a number of reasons. If they are in fact gay, why hasn’t Valve made them canon yet?
A Theoretical Scenario
I am going to ramble big time on this one, so buckle up lads. I’ll discuss a theoretical scenario in which, well, if that was not obvious, Valve confirms Heavymedic as canon. Maybe then we will see why they will probably never do so.
TF2 is considered by typical capital G, alt-right Gamers as a “non-political” game. This means no women (in the game itself, at least, and if even, sexy women only), no queer folk and no minorities (for some reason they accept Demoman but throw a fit if someone draws any other merc as not being pearl white). Team Fortress 2 was around before Gamergate and other things like Gamers Rise Up. It’s a classic and Valve is regarded as the good guy to Epic Game’s bad guy. If Valve did anything to confirm doubts, wherther it be clearing up popular fanon or confirming ships, these people would throw hands. (Although they seemed to ignore when one of the writers confirmed Miss Pauling is a lesbian. Huh.) Even those that don’t play TF2 would come to the aid of their bros.
Let me illustrate with two very similar examples. In both cases these confirmations were the first made by the company as a whole, both are fairly recent and both confirm a character as gay.
First we have the confirmation of Tracer from Overwatch as a lesbian. It was done in one of OVW’s comics. Tracer is the FACE of Overwatch as a whole and while most of the fanbase accepted it (thankfully the Gamers are reluctant to infest ow), some people threw what I can only describe as a hissy fit. At least her girlfriend’s a background character.
Second is Neeko from League of Legends. Unlike Tracer she was added a while before it was confirmed she was gay. LOL is much more toxic and filled with Gamers than OW and holy shit people smeared LOL so much.
Of course these are not accurate to Heavy/Medic. In both of the cases I listed it was girls being wlw and we all know how much cisgender heterosexual gamers LOVE yuri porn. Apparently only girls can be gay because they can jack off to it - if it’s two guys then it’s disgusting.
Nevertheless I think these are good approximations - in every case the company gets “shat on” on social media and other sites. With the community that Valve has, I think even if they wanted them to be gay, they would never ever confirm it.
Conclusion
I’m sorry for that ending. I had to theorize a bit. Regardless I’d love if you shared this on other sites, reblogged or whatever - I wasted at least 1 and a half hours of my life on it. Feel free to cite this as a source if someone asks you why you ship the big heavy weapons expert and the feral battle medic.
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Destiel Fic Rec List Part 1
Last Updated in October 2014. Posted in May 2020 for posterity. Listed in no particular order - the total rec list will have ~250 fics. Header graphic used with permission.
This part of the list contains: 48 fics.
Other Destiel Rec Lists: [1]. [2]. [3]. [4]. [5]. [6]. [7].
For Science! by pm_lo
E | 21k | ABO, Omega!cas, Alpha!Dean,
Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.
Even though this is a dialogue/email text only story, I still very much enjoyed it and found it ridiculously hot. Maybe I'm just easy. (No I'm not. This fic is good, read it.)
Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison
E | 68k | Firefighter!Dean, Professor!Cas, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Sam and Jess are getting married and Dean couldn’t be any happier for them. Honestly, they’re kind of disgustingly perfect for each other and Dean’s pretty damn excited about staying with them the week before the wedding. He’s Sam’s best man, of course, and he doesn’t even mind that Jess has her own best man to share in all the organizational duties. The more the merrier, right? Except Dean must have done something to epically piss off the universe because Jess’s best man just happens to be Castiel friggin’ Novak. He’s got even hotter since High School, but apparently no friendlier and if Cas wants to spend the week pretending like they’ve never met before? Fine. Two can play at that game.
THIS WAS SO GOOD I'M TEARING UP. tropes abound and I love it!
Cops and Robbers by kinkstiel
E | 53k [WIP] | Detective!Dean, Criminal!Cas, Top!Cas, Bottom!dean
They locked eyes for a minute and then Cas leaned back as far as the cuffs would let him go, spreading his legs obscenely wide. “I want you to suck my cock, Dean.” Dean balked, mouth going dry in a second, eyes slipping to the now visible bulge in Castiel’s suit pants. “Um,” he said stupidly, face flushing red, eyes unable to pull away. Cas hummed. “Depending on how well you suck me, I might just tell you everything you want to know.” He licked his lips, smirking slightly when he caught Dean’s gaze. “And with sinful little lips like yours,” he made a low whistling sound, “I don’t doubt you’ll get every last name out of me.
So very good. Love the dark and dirtiness of it. It does get lighter and sappier towards the end tho.
Cursed or Not ❤ by Ltleflrt
E | 115k | witch!Cas, shapeshifter!Dean, switching
While experimenting with magic when he was a kid, Sam accidentally cursed Dean. Now, Dean is forced to wear a spelled amulet constantly, or he'll turn into a random animal. For a little over a decade, he's learned to live with the curse, and has even found it useful in some cases, but he sure would be happier without it. When he meets a witch named Castiel, he's offered a deal. Instead of assuming all witches are bad, Dean can spend a season getting to know him. If at the end of the season, Dean still thinks he's evil Castiel will send him away with his memory wiped of the whole experience. But if he learns that Castiel is not the monster Dean assumes he is, he'll lift Dean's curse. It's an offer Dean can't bring himself to pass up.
Literally perfect. Enthralling world, magical relationship.
Surprise Package by wannaliveindeansdimples
E | 3k | Hot, , Dom Cas, Sub Dean, Light BDSM
When Cas' roommate Meg has to go out of town suddenly, she leaves him an unexpected gift.
So so hot. Non extreme Dom!cas and sub!dean.
Never Have I ever by sweetdean
M | 78k | Fluff, High School AU, top!cas, bottom!dean
When Jo drags Dean along to a game of "never have I ever" with her friends, he finds himself getting caught up in a lot more than just a game. “Never have I ever hung out with such an asshole,” Dean countered, positively shocked at his own sass. Cas smirked again. “Oh, are we hanging out now?fricken adorable
Road Signs by gemmiel
E | 9k| Canon!verse, true form
Dean is curious about how angels have sex. Castiel shows him.
Damn. True form, soul sex, and regular sex. Yes please.
It's Brilliant, Really by snarkymonkey
E | 15k | Fluff, AU, Professor!cas, Stuntman!dean
Castiel Novak is a History adjunct at Stanford University. He's also the most patient younger brother. When his older brother, Gabriel, decides to start *wooing* one of his younger waiters, Castiel reluctantly agrees to double-date with the intended paramour's older brother. What he didn't expect, however, was how much his own life would flip over such a careless decision.
Adorable. Hot, and adorable.
Gabriel's Unfortunate Mistake by JackHawksmoor
E | 8k | Hot, AU
an answer to a prompt: Gabriel decides to hire a prostitute for his virgin brother Castiel as a joke, but instead accidentally hires Dean, a professional Dom. The moment Dean first lays a hand on him, Castiel knows he is lost. Dean/Castiel AU.
Um mm.... Damn. That was hot. Newbie sub!cas and pro dom!dean
Well-Beloved Unto Me by Moorishflower
E | 3k | Alt!Canon, tentacles
The Winchesters don't get rewarded for all the shit they go through, so Dean is understandably wary when a few recharged and promoted angels offer him and Sam the vacation of a lifetime. Title comes from the Song of Solomon.
True form. And sex. MY FAVE.
How to Date an Angel in 12 Easy Steps by Fourthduckling
E | 23k | Fluff, Alt!canon
It's not that hard to date an angel. All Dean has to do is fight off hordes of vampires, research gay porn, get sucked into a crappy Narnia, endure Sam's comments, creep out on Dr. Sexy, get harassed -- oh, and that's right-- figure out he's into Cas. Easy, right?
SQUUEEEE. Perfect and cute and cuddly.
Two Wrongs Don't Make A Right But Three Rights Make A Left by the0voice0from0above
E | 45k | High School AU, Dancer!Cas, Welder!Dean,
The beautiful Garrison Ballet School becomes home to a reckless bunch of misfits after the Colt Welding Academy is severely damaged in a fire and has to close for repairs. Needless to say, Castiel and his friends clash with their unwanted guests but there's one boy in particular who infuriates him.
Dancer!au. Love it love it love it!
Rest My Angel by cobalt_wings
E | 86k | Fluff, Season 9 AU
Angels are falling from the sky, and Dean is losing it. Sam is dying in his arms, and one of those burning, twisting figures blazing through the night air might be his very own angel, Castiel. What can he do to help those he loves?
Sex and domestic and lots of fucking. My fave.
One Species Too Many by wallmakerrelict
E | 21k | Fluff, Alt!canon
While Dean is laid up for a month after breaking his leg on a hunt, Cas decides that it's a perfect time to adopt a litter of kittens. But even though he's gotten better since Purgatory, Cas still isn't quite the same as he was before fixing Sam's head, and being trapped in a cabin with him for weeks on end is making that all the more obvious to Dean. When Sam takes off on a hunt, Dean has to figure out on his own how to navigate his new relationship with Cas while also helping to raise a bunch of fuzzballs that aren't even cute. Not even a little bit. (Well, maybe a little bit.)
Team free will with kittens!! So fluffy and domestic but also a touch of angst.
It's A Bet by vitamindesi
E | 34k | College AU, top!cas, bottom!dean
Destiel College!AU in which freshman Dean is dared by his best friends to hit on senior Castiel at a party. He wants to say no but then someone starts a bet and Benny bets a sum that is ridiculously high for a student and Dean can’t disappoint Benny, right? I deviated only, but hopefully it suffices.
So fabulous and smutty I want to cry. Literally perfection.
Your Call Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by eBob, K_K_TiBal
T | 66k [WIP] | Fluff, College AU
AU in which Castiel accidentally sends a text message to the wrong number and befriends the person at the other end of the line. However, accidents don’t just happen accidentally, and sometimes two completely different people are exactly what the other needs.
LITERALLY THE BEST. So many feelings. I WANT IT TO BE COMPLETE SO MUCH. Abandoned WIP.
Equinox by luchia
E | 12k | Alt!canon, time travel
In which Castiel is the weird time-traveling freak who just might be the love of Dean Winchester's life.
Confusing but perfect time travel fic.
If I run by betty days
E | 4k | Hot, AU, sexting, long distance relationship
"Dean Winchester is a red-blooded American male. He lifts all the things. He aims for functional strength. He counts his macros and makes fun of curlbros. He is not a member of the Tarahumara tribe and he will not read Born to Run, no matter how many times Sam tells him to, because Starting Strength is the only book Dean will ever fucking need." Wherein a friendly competition with the mysterious ThursdaysAngel turns into a sexy selfie-trading spree that motivates Dean Winchester to train for his first marathon.
Soo. Hot. Makes me want to actually exercise?
The Little Things by Alreadypainfullygone
T | 2k | Angst, Cancer, Major Character Death
Au based on 'the big C' in which Dean gets very sick, and deals with it the denial way. Meeting a homeless man on the way. Dean/Castiel Angst. Warning for trigger - Cancer. sorry if you think I dealt with it badly.
This is only 2.8k words, and yet it managed to make me cry.
Do What Feels Good by Catchclaw, cymbalism
E | 12k | Hot, Alt!canon, PWP
Castiel learns to love alone time in the shower. And then he learns to share.
Fuuuuuck that was hot. Castubation and shower sex is just so hnnnggg.
All That Is And Used To Be by MisaChan
E | 26k | Alt!Canon, wing!Kink
Dean never even knew anyone was living in the old estate outside of town until its mysterious occupant contracts his shop for a very specific job: a custom piano bench with grooves cut into the back. He finds Castiel and his terms to be eccentric with a capital E but the money is too good to turn down and anyway, Dean can't help indulging his curiosity about the guy and his secretive, isolated life. There are secrets that will not stay hidden and stories that refuse to be forgotten. Especially when they happen to involve Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel.
Ugh, I love this story. Concept, execution, and characterization are all perfect.
Do I Have Something Like That? by MysticMoonhigh
E | 2k | Hot, horn!kink, wing!kink
based on the tumblr post I made: Does anybody know any demon!Dean fics where Cas makes Dean climax by basically giving his demon horns a hand job because I want this so badly out of lifE | I'm. I've read this about three times and I think I'm finally coming to terms with my alien biology kink. Hot. Wink!kink and horn!kink. Yes.
The Doctor Will See You Now by PetrichorPerfume
E | 7k| Hot, PWP sub!dean, gentle dom!cas, wing!kink
Dean has a medical kink. Castiel is more than happy to oblige. Starring Castiel as the slightly unorthodox Dr. Novak who enjoys prescribing enforced chastity and daily tease and denial sessions, and Dean as his needy, submissive patient who will do anything for a chance to come.
Wowowwowowow. Um. This was super hot. Nnnghhhh.
Into Your Hideaway by thepinupchemist
E | 176k |Angst, a/b/o, omega!dean, alpha!cas, mpreg
Driving down a deserted road in the Rocky Mountains, Castiel finds something unexpected: An omega. Not only an omega, but a naked, injured, pregnant omega. Dean doesn't talk much at first, but that doesn't change the brightness of his soul. It also doesn't stop Castiel from falling in love with him.
I just... Wow. This was an amazing story. Beware that it is possibly very triggering, because of rape, assault, violence, and general bigotry. But perhaps because of all of that, you get a story that is almost painful in its reality, and it is all the more loveable for that.
The World Crashing All Around by thepinupchemist
E | 36k| Alt!canon, best friends wing!Kink, kid!fic
During a storm in September of 1987, Dean and Sam hear something hit their roof. When they brave the backyard to investigate, they find a fledgling angel. A story about best friendship, spoiled plans, and love, in four parts.
OH MY GOD. This was perfect all the way through. From soul bonds, to slow burn, to growing up together as best friends, it's all my favorite. And it even has wing kink, which is literally the best.
Share Your Burden by aTimeOfMagic
E | 3k Hot, PWP, Sub!dean, dom!cas
Set at the end of 'Are You There God? It's Me Dean Winchester.' 4.02. Castiel shows Dean that he deserves respect, and Dean comes to see that Cas is not, in fact, just a 'hammer'. He also learns that his 'people skills' are definitely not entirely 'rusty'.
Damn. Um, really hot. Also, unexpectedly sweet.
Flawless by Vaerin
E | 69k | a/b/o, accidental bonding, sub!dean, dom!cas
A contract is out on the Winchesters, a large sum of money the reward for throwing them off their game. A witch in the town they happen to be passing through decides to collect. She sets her sights on Dean, trying to seduce him into leaving his job to stay with her. When she can't even convince him to warm her bed, she decides to turn her job into his punishment. Knowing he fears commitment and can't stand the thought of being with a man, she works a spell between him and Castiel... the one friend he can call a safe haven. When they end up mated the next morning, not only does the Winchester family business suffer... but so does Dean's friendship with Castiel.
Cute long soul bond fic. Contains sabriel.
Chasing Normal by Donovanspen
M | 16k | Fluff, First time, Cuddling & Snuggling
Dean reevaluates his definition of an 'apple pie life' and what that means for him, personally.
This is the definition of domestic fluff and smut. There's a wee bit of angst because hey, it's set in the canon verse. But so worth it.
Hold On by somuchforbaggles
E | 92k | Fluff, Angst, mental illness
Castiel is sure that nothing in his life will ever change. Everything that happens to him is predictable, from the stability of his job to the unrelenting sporadic anxiety attacks, he can rely on his life to stay the same forever - until he saves Dean Winchester from the path of an oncoming train. From then on, everything changes for both of them, and the only way they can deal with it is together.
Woww. This was an amazing ride. Angsty and fluffy, then angsty again, then back to fluffy. So good.
I said to myself again by avyssoseleison
E | 2k | Fluff, Praise!kink, Self-esteem issues
Dean finally lets himself be appreciated and cared for by his angel.
Praise kink is my ultimate weakness
The One Thing You Can't Lose by MajorEnglishEsquire
T | 4k | Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling
You know what I like a lot? The thought that Dean can just tug Cas anywhere at any time and Cas, who can lift tons without effort, who can demolish things with the light of his grace, who has battled and gone to war, has defended and broken, will just let Dean do it.
fluffy love
Spit Slick by VeraBAdler
M | 1k | Fluff, , First Time
[no description]
A super cute fluffy little oneshot :3 (tags say 'happy sex' and 'sexy cuddling' if you need more to go on)
Late Bloomer by somuchforbaggles
T | 7k | Alt!Canon, Wing!kink, Wingfic, Soulmates
On every child’s seventh birthday, a celebration is held to mark the beginning of their journey as a fledgling - a sprouting ceremony. It doesn’t matter if the child hasn't shown the symptoms of emerging wings yet, for it is scientific fact that every child grows wings in their seventh year, sometimes even earlier. Castiel is not every child.
A coming of age wing fic. With mates. Basically, I'm in love.
Sleight of Hand by aileenrose
M | 64k | Angst, Human AU, psychic cas, journalist dean
Dean Winchester has interviewed them all--mob bosses, serial killers, crooked politicians. Next he plans to unveil the con-man who markets himself as Castiel, a reclusive and secretive "healer" who claims to heal the sick in return for thousands of dollars. Dean's expecting a challenge, but he never expected Castiel to be so clueless or sweet...or that he might be telling the truth.
I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS AU. The one where Dean is a skeptical journalist/professional idiot and Cas is a socially inept healer and mind reader. There's lots of angst, but the payoff is so worth it.
Leaning In by Anonymous
T | 15k | Hospital AU
Castiel never changed out his scrubs, Dean had a way of getting himself injured and Sam seemed to think it was a good pairing
Even though I have no idea who actually wrote this story, it's worth a read. I'm always up for a good medical AU.
Someone I Forgot to Be by MatildaMavis
E | 36k Fluff, Angst, Human AU
Castiel is content - sort of - with his quiet life in Boston...at least, until his new neighbor moves in. It's Dean Winchester, the cliched long lost love of his life. Can these two idiots find their way back to each other after eight years, after fame and loss and heartbreak? After Dean has found love again with Cas' neighbor, Lisa? Fate can be a sadistic bitch, they've both learned that, but maybe they've matured enough to be able to handle it this time. The sparks, the attraction, the tension...or maybe not.
I thought this would be extremely painful, and it sort of was. But it was so worth it.
Didn't Get That Particular Memo by Snarkymonkey
E | 5k
Dean has worked with his best friend for years and maybe it's a bit more than that for him but not for Castiel, right? Right. And really, he'd feel so much better if Castiel would just get a companion already. Because it's not like Castiel actually wants him, right? Right.
Damn, that was fucking hot.
Cas, You Had A Baby? by allthebeautifulthings9828
M | 132k | Fluff, Alt!Canon, Kid Fic, Slow Build
At some point in every angel's life, raising a fledgling is required. Castiel's turn comes rather unexpectedly when his superiors hand off a newly created infant angel to him and leave him to raise it with all of Heaven's principles of blind obedience. He's not sure what to do, so he tucks the fledgling in his coat and goes straight to Dean and Sam Winchester. Together, Dean and Castiel hatch a plan to raise the fledgling away from Heaven's control. And soon, the angel Hael arrives with news that, after Castiel disappeared, she and four other angels ran from Heaven's oppression with their fledglings. Castiel finds himself the unwitting ringleader of angels choosing to raise their fledglings with the principles of free will. Is angelic parenthood too much for his deepening relationship with Dean? Who can they really trust? (Disclaimer: This story depicts fledglings consuming honey for the nourishment of their undeveloped graces. Human babies cannot consume honey, so please do not feed it to your infants. This is fiction.)
Oh. My. God. I admit that I was skeptical at the beginning about this story, but let me tell you, it sucked me in. Sometimes, you run across a story that has wonderful OCs that you get attached to. This is one of those. And of course, the baby is adorable.
Healing by Jacqueline Albright-Beckett
M | 2k | Fluff, Canon!verse, PWP
Castiel can heal more than just physical wounds.
Sensual and romantic.
Better Late Than Never by whelvenwings
G | 23k | Fluff, Alt!canon, friends to lovers,
When Dean first sees Castiel, he's clinging on for dear life - and things never really get any easier. In fact, they get a lot harder; Dean's worst enemy isn't always the monkey bars. Bound together year on year by the ritual pact of being a Guardian Angel, Dean and Cas grow close, showing loyalty and bravery in the face of danger. But will they ever find the courage to admit their true feelings for each other - and will it be too late by the time they do?
i LOVE best friends to lovers fics! and this delivers on that perfectly.
Like A Candle In The Window On A Cold Dark Winter's Night by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
T | 6k | Fluff, Canon!verse, asexual Cas
In which Castiel saves Dean, Dean saves Castiel, there is beer and TV watching, and if it weren't for the monsters and assassination attempts, life would be almost perfect.
A cute little fic I've read multiple times :)
How many slams in an old screen door? by dandelioness
T | 15k | Fluff, Theatre AU, Asexual Cas
In which Castiel is a theatre major terrible at first impressions; Dean is a set designer who likes Cas anyway; and the most chaotic production of Les Miserables in history somehow manages to go off without a hitch. Or, just as you should never give a moose a muffin (because he'll want some jam to go with it), you should never give a blank check to a university theatre department.
This is perfect. I can't speak for the accuracy of the information and feelings given about asexuals/asexuality, but I enjoyed this fic nonetheless.
Breath of Heaven by solacesnake18
E | 9k
When Dean is wounded and dying in Purgatory, Castiel returns from his self-imposed exile to help him.
Wow. True!form cas and metaphysical sex that somehow manages to be poetic, emotional, and erotic all at once. I approve.
The Mirror by CloudyJenn
M | 24k | Canon!Verse,
When Dean touches a strange mirror, he's whisked away to one alternate reality after another and it doesn't take him long to realize the universe is trying to tell him something.
One of my favorite fics, and a fandom classic. So beautiful. It's a trip, but you'll love it. The ending makes me really emotional.
Rock 'n' Roll Queer Bar by chasingrabbits
E | 121k | Fluff, Human AU
Ellen and Jo Harvelle run Harvelle's Roadhouse, a bar that unintentionally becomes a beacon for wayward queer souls. Her employees: Dean, the smartass runaway with a big heart and bigger mouth; Castiel, the college drop-out turned hippie; his (surprisingly heterosexual) trouble-making brother Gabriel; and Charlie, who has been told several times that the back room is not to be used for after-hours Dungeons & Dragons games. But there's a lot of love in this place, and a new family for anyone who may otherwise be without.
Sweet little (well, not so little really) universe. Link is to the series.
A Million Ways to Go by chasingrabbits
E | 91k | High School AU,
Castiel Novak is a preacher's son living in a world of black and white. Pragmatic and dutiful, he doesn't understand why anybody would want to make waves. Then the Winchesters move in down the street. Soon many of the skeletons in the Novak family's closet are exposed, and as the family faces them, Castiel begins to understand that there are many ways to see the world and so many more ways to live than what he's been told.
Wow, this was a ride. Set in an alternate!canon where Cas is a repressed preacher's kid and dean still grows up a hunter. Also, lots of Sam and Gabriel brother!feels. Not sabriel.
Like That Foreigner Song... by DevilMadeMeDoIt
E | 5k | Hot, Alt!Canon, Deancest, Time trave
Dean and Cas have been together for a while now, but Dean always regrets that he has been with so many people in the past. He wishes he could go back in time and tell his 15 year old self that there is someone worth waiting for. Cas gives him the chance and the outcome is one that neither of them expected.
Oh god, this was a perfect little story. So much love.
TutorMate by faeryn
M | 21k | College AU
Sam leaves Dean's laptop logged in to some app called "TutorMate" and Dean meets his brother's tutor. Cas helps him with his own work and they strike up a friendship. Before long Dean finds himself growing attached to the cute, clever Cas and flirtatiously suggests they go on a date if he applies himself to his college work. Cas agrees, but Dean discovers his online friend is not quite what he expected. (Or, in which Dean thinks he's met a cute girl and finds out he's actually met a cute boy.)
Wowowwowowow adorable. Perfect little college AU.
More recs coming soon.
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Did you know you can add image descriptions directly into the image on tumblr? HTML code has a handy little thing called the “alt” attribute.
This was originally designed to be text that shows up when an image failed to load, so that the user would still know what was meant to be there. This is what a screen reader uses to tell a visually impaired user what an image is about - but it can only provide that information when someone has bothered to add an alt attribute to their image element.
The way of doing it can be a bit impractical - if there is a way to do it in the images of an Image post, I haven’t found it. BUT if you add your image within a post, that’s a different story.
Once your post is all done, you click on the little gear at the top right of your post, then select HTML as the text editor more.
There, each of your images will be represented by an <img> tag. This tag contains the URL of your picture (the src= part), and maybe some height and width attributes.
Within this <img> tag, you can add the alt attribute.
The image tag for my TUA pikachu meme looks like this:
[Imade description: a screenshot of the HTML content of my aforementioned post. The following text is highlighted:
<img src="[a very long URL edited out for better readability]" data-orig-height="784" data-orig-width="1354" alt="shocked pikachu face">
/end ID.]
You can see the alt there at the end.
⚠️ Careful:
The = sign and the quotation marks are really important, don’t forget them
Make sure to put your alt text into the <img> tag, meaning before the final >. This can be a bit tricky as the html has various different tags, so you have to pay attention.
Your alt text should be no longer than 125 characters, so this method will not be suitable for longer image descriptions
DO NOT use special characters such as <> or quotation marks, since those will interfere with the HTML
In general avoid any special characters beyond the alphabet and very basic punctuation to make sure you don’t risk breaking the HTML.
this also means no Emojis!
Basically, this method is most effective with very simple images such as a common, unedited meme, like the shocked pikachu face.
I should also note that this did not originally work when I posted the aforementioned post. The alt simply disappeared. If this happens, just edit the post and add it in again. If you have multiple images, it may be easier to post first without the alt attributes, and then immediately edit the post to add them.
AND ANOTHER THING!
Before adding an image description to someone else’s post, you can check whether they have already added an alt attribute! Right-click on the image and select “Inspect element”. You’ll see the same basic html I screenshotted above, but most often, the alt will only say “image”, meaning no one has added an alt, and tumblr’s post creator has auto filled that in.
Here, practice on these two images of - because I have no imagination - the shocked pikachu. (one of them is mirrored to look right instead of left)
You can see only one of them has a real attribute, while the other was automatically fileld in an just says "image".
As I’ve said, the alt attribute method cannot be used with all images due to constraints of length and character type. But when it’s a very simple, short description, it can be very useful. : )
This post was written for desktop as I almost never use mobile. If you know how to do this on mobile, feel free to add onto this post.
If you have questions about the alt attribute that aren’t covered here, you can find most of your answers via a search engine or on the W3 schools website.
Disclaimer: I am a sighted person, and writing this post based on the fraction of knowledge I have about this topic thanks to writing image descriptions every so often, and knowing a bit of HTML. If you see an issue with this post, please let me know so I can fix it.
#image descriptions#accessibility#long post#okay 3 edits later i hope this post is not broken anymore#can you believe tumblr deleted my bullet point list#thank fuck i copy paster everyhing before hitting post jfc
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Alt-talia x Evillious Chronicles: The Key to Zorn (Part 1 v. 2)
Sigh… there appears to have been a misunderstanding between the event holder and I. I just hope I hear back from them.
Just in case, this is an alternate version of “Key to Zorn”, which I resubmitted for the Free Day prompt, but could also be considered to be one for Fate/Coincidence or By your side. It’s platonic at this point. You may read either version, as the differences are mostly superficial, but I thought this version may be more fitting considering how I write Alt-Germany.
[Summary: Crossover with the Nemesis arc of the Evillious Chronicles. Everyone is searching for their very own Happy Ending... But where is his, if it exists at all?
Young Ludwig Beilshmidt lives alone in a cabin in the woods, waiting for the return of his mother. But one winter morning, a certain, seemingly chance encounter changes his life forever, leading his life to become increasingly entangled with much grander plans...]
(Yes, lame summary, but I didn’t know how to write it without spoilers. The same text as the original is copy-pasted below)
Couldn’t come up with a better title.
Okay… so… holy hell.
This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.
I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!
I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.
This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.
Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.
So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.
However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.
This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.
Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.
The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.
Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.
Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.
And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.
Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!
I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!
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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)
And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.
Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.
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The Key To Zorn
Part 1: And Then The Boy Went Mad
In a certain continent, there was a forest.
A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.
Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.
Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.
Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.
The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.
He sighed.
“Nothing today either...”
He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.
“I’m home!”
No one answered back.
As per usual.
He didn’t expect one anyway.
Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.
He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.
And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.
“Mutter, is it good?”
Nothing.
Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.
——-
Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.
Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.
Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.
He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.
He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.
She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.
No, no she wasn’t.
She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.
She was too strong to die.
She would come back. She always came back.
His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.
“Einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.
Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.
He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.
“Good night.”
He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.
Lu li la la lu li la la la…
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
———-
“FIRE!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.
Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.
Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.
Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.
And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.
He took a deep breath and aimed again.
“FIRE!”
-----------------------
When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.
They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.
He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.
Oh well.
-----------------------------
Days passed, then months.
Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.
The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.
He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.
Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.
Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.
A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.
But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?
-------------------
Now’s your time.
Alright. I’m going in. See you.
------------------
One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.
Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.
He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.
But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.
His heart almost stopped.
Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.
Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…
Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.
Dread shot through his body like lightning.
He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.
…
…
Tears fell from his face.
She was gone.
She was really gone.
Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.
But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.
Pure, unbridled wrath.
He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.
Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.
If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!
He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.
He was proven wrong that day.
All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.
Nothing.
His mother was never going to come back. Ever.
Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.
Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?
Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.
No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.
“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.
It was here he noticed something perched on the mailbox.
He looked up.
An eagle.
A stark-black eagle, its yellow talons sharp enough to pierce skin, its bright, intelligent, fierce eyes a rare violet.
He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.
As he sniffled, the eagle cocked its head, staring at Ludwig.
“...An eagle?”
Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
“Are… are you from my Mutter?”
Silence.
Immediately, he embraced the eagle, causing it to screech loudly and flap its powerful wings in shock.
“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”
The boy’s short arms wrapped around the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.
He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.
For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.
<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>
------------------------------------------
“Oy vey… I was too late again.
...This world is fucked.”
-------------------------------------
Ludwig put some meat in front of the raptor, which surely enough soon started picking it apart.
“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”
He stared at the eagle, deep in thought.
“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”
The eagle looked at him.
“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”
<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>
--------------------
That night was different from usual.
Ludwig pet the bird as it made a nest out of rags beside him, wishing it good night. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.
It’s fierce gaze felt protective in the silent darkness, as if his mother really had returned, watching for anything that could harm him.
Oh, he almost forgot something.
He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the eagle’s neck.
“There. Perfect. It suits you.”
It squawked.
“Good night, Schwarzchen.”
That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, watched by the protective gaze of his new companion.
----------
“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”
Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.
Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.
He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.
In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.
A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.
“H… hallo?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I… Who are you?”
The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.
“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”
His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.
The boy nodded.
The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.
“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”
Tentatively, Ludwig took it.
The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.
Ludwig woke up.
The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.
“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”
He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.
“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”
<Are you really going with that name?>
Ludwig blinked.
“...Did you just…”
<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>
Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.
“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”
<Yes, this is the eagle. And I have a name.>
Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.
“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”
<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>
“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”
<Well you could say that.>
Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.
“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”
“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.
<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>
“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”
<But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>
“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”
<...Whatever, kid.>
---------------------------
Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.
His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.
Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him, especially in hunting; more meats were amassed with every session, and fruits even from the highest trees were now accessible.
...Sometimes. Other times, the eagle merely preened itself, telling him to “Do it on his own.”
Ludwig wondered if all eagles were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.
Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.
He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.
Almost.
——————
As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.
The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.
He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.
He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.
When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.
Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.
-----------------
Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.
<How cute.>
It was easy.
A bit too easy.
What did he expect from a child though.
<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.
Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.
...Though do I always have to be right next to you?>
--------------------
Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.
On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.
<Kid.>
“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”
<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>
Ludwig froze.
<Don’t cry on me.>
“I wasn’t going to”
<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>
The boy pondered it.
<I’m a bird and even I know it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>
He was right.
“But… This is all I have ever known.”
<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>
“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”
————-
Ludwig opened his drawer.
There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.
Why did he still have it?
Just so he would never forget, probably.
Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.
--------------
Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.
It felt so odd to know he would be away from it after so long
He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.
<Are you done now?>
“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”
-----------
When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his back, he was in awe.
It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.
Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.
He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.
“Get out of the way brat!”
Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.
But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.
“...Where should I even start?”
<Well? Do you have any relatives?>
“Not that I know of.”
Lutz looked to the right. His light of sight led to a small group of children.
<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>
“...Oh.”
Ludwig sighed. He may as well.
————-
“Shoo! Shoo!”
“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”
“Outta the way!”
————-
Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket.
He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.
He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.
“Lutz?”
<What is it, kid?>
“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”
<Didn’t you read about it?>
“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”
<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>
“...Lutz?”
<...What now?>
“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”
<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>
“Jawohl… Good night.”
————
Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.
After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.
Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.
It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.
For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.
“Lutz... is this...”
<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>
He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.
This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.
She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.
Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.
He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.
It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.
Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.
Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.
--------------
One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.
And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.
“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”
Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.
“...What business do you have with me?”
The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.
“I asked you a question, shorty!”
After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.
<Kid. Listen.>
“What?!”
<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>
“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”
————-
Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON BIRD! DEMON BIRD!”
Lutz flew back and perched on his head, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.
“How… how…”
<I’m a Very Amazing Bird, you could say.>
————
A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.
That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.
<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>
Ludwig looked at the eagle perched on his arm, puzzled.
“What?”
Lutz pointed a wing at a building.
<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>
“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”
<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.>
Lutz looked to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.
“...Why didn’t you tell me that?!”
He took flight and landed on his head, preening himself.
<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.>
Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.
Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.
“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”
--------------------------
“Your name?”
“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”
The officers looked at him for a few seconds.
“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”
“Jawohl.”
They were in shock.
“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”
“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”
“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”
“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”
————-
“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”
“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”
“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”
-------------
<This is boring.>
“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”
Lutz did something that resembled a yawn.
“He should be here soon-”
It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.
Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.
“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”
Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.
“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”
He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.
“Ja?”
He looked him over.
“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”
“...Is that an insult against her?”
Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.
“Ah, sorry.”
He outstretched his hand.
“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”
Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.
“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”
Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.
“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”
Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.
Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.
But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.
————-
Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.
“But really… What is such a magnificent eagle doing with you? A black Strix no less?”
<Someone called?>
“Black Strix?”
“You don’t know? They’re an exceedingly rare species! And this one is such a beautiful dark coal hue; I’ve always been partial to Black Strixes, they’re said to have a particularly strong mystical power.”
“I didn’t know he could be more special... His name is Lutz.”
“...Lutz? As in…”
“Jawohl.”
Roderich looked puzzled.
“Erm… Mutter named him.”
Roderich huffed.
“Ah, Julchen, of course...”
“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”
Roderich quieted for a few seconds.
“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”
“Jawo… ja.”
—————
Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.
And he had the house to show it as well.
“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”
Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.
A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.
“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”
Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.
“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”
“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”
Ludwig outstretched his hand.
The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.
“Hallo. I guess.”
She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.
Roderich sighed.
“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”
“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”
Ludwig scowled.
“Hey!”
Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.
“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”
“Fine, fine.”
She shook his hand, roughly.
“But wow, an eagle! A Strix no less?! I didn��t think I’d ever be able to see one!”
Lutz merely yawned.
Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.
“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”
She walked off.
“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”
Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.
“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”
He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.
“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”
<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>
“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”
————
That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.
He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available in particular was amazing.
But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.
“Onkel, what is this?”
“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”
Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.
...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.
He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.
“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”
“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”
Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.
The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.
“...Ludwig?”
“...It’s amazing.”
Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.
“Even your mother was quite a fan.”
<Hey, hey. Kid.>
Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.
“Lutz? What is-“
<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>
Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient eagle.
“Ludwig!”
“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”
“...Is chocolate even safe for eagles?”
Erzsébet questioned.
“Wait wha-“
<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>
Ludwig smiled nervously.
“He’ll be fine.”
The couple just stared, confused.
“Erm…”
“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”
“Absolutely.”
His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.
“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”
Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.
“Why don’t you is the better question.”
“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”
————
Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.
He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.
He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.
His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.
Yet…
Yet something was missing.
Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?
But yet…
Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.
But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.
Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.
But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Someone had to be doing something wrong.
At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.
Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.
While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.
“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”
<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>
“At least I have you.”
<Whatever.>
———
“Ludwig.”
“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”
The man sighed.
“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”
“...I just can’t, Onkel.”
“Excuse me?”
“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”
The man looked so disappointed.
“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”
“Nein. It isn’t that.”
Roderich shook his head.
“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”
—————
Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.
After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.
After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.
There was another episode that irked Ludwig.
One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.
“...Onkel?”
The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.
“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..
Then, Ludwig saw it.
In his hands was his mother’s necklace.
“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”
He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.
“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”
“I know you’re hiding it.”
The man sighed, taking it back out again.
“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”
Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.
“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”
“...Ja.”
Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.
“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”
“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”
When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.
“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”
<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>
“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”
<Oh come on now.>
“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”
<Alright, alright. Whatever.>
“You aren’t sincere, are you?”
<What do you want from me? Good night.>
——————
One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.
He was able to catch two things; “...Mister Edelmann” and “barren”.
He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.
That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.
<There goes the lovely couple.>
Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.
————
13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.
It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.
It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.
<Ergh. What a dump.>
They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.
Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.
“Hey! We know ya killed him!”
“Who?”
The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.
“Ya know who!”
The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.
“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”
Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp, Lutz flying into the air.
“Come back, ya stupid bird!”
“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”
“...You better tell us.”
Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.
The rival boss laughed.
“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”
His boss smirked.
“Ya better listen to the kid.”
“Or what?”
They laughed uproariously.
“Lutz. Restrain.”
Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.
For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the talons of a giant, terrifying raptor straight out of hell, its eyes glowing, its beak as sharp as an ice pick, with which it screeched in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.
Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.
Show your enemy no mercy.
Once again, he thought he heard his mother's voice in his ear.
“Tell us the truth.”
The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.
“We… we… d-d-di…”
Ludwig cocked his pistol.
“Speak in a real language!”
The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.
“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”
Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.
“...Really?”
“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”
“...Alright. Lutz, release.”
The eagle shrank back down to size, returning to his perch on Ludwig’s outstretched arm.
His boss grumbled.
“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”
They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.
“W-Wait.”
Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.
“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”
———-
“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”
“Jawohl.”
Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.
“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”
Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.
“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”
“He said something about a curfew.”
“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”
-----------------
When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.
“Ludwig.”
“Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.
“...What have you been doing?”
“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.
“Let me state this plainly.”
He took a deep breath.
“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”
Ludwig was in shock.
“How…”
Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.
“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”
“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”
Roderich was shocked.
“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”
“I don’t know how to do anything else.”
Roderich shook his head.
“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“
“And they’re my friends.”
“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”
“...”
“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”
“I… I know!”
Roderich flinched.
Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.
“Hmph, teenagers...”
Erzsébet mumbled.
—————-
“Ludwig?”
Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.
Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry.”
Roderich sighed.
“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”
The boy felt a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”
“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”
Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.
“But…”
“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”
<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>
“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”
His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.
Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.
Silence.
“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”
Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.
“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Leave me alone!”
“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”
Roderich sighed and closed the door.
From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.
But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.
Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.
And once again, wrath simmered within him.
----------------
Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.
Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.
His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.
Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends?
Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.
A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.
“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”
A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.
“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.
“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”
“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”
“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”
“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”
<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>
“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”
<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>
Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.
He immediately gagged.
The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.
“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”
Finally, the air became solemn.
“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”
“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”
—————-
Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.
He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.
So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.
But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.
He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.
Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.
Lutz nibbled on pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from above him.
“HERS?”
<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>
Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.
<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>
“How…”
<I have my ways.>
He flew off, now by his side.
“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”
<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>
“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”
<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>
Ludwig sighed.
“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”
<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>
Ludwig continued to stare at him.
“I... I just didn’t think you would...”
<Turn the page already. I already know this.>
"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”
<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>
Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.
“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”
Lutz stared at him.
His words struck him like a spark of lightning.
“That makes two of us”
An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.
Why was he so shocked?
Ludwig blinked, confused.
“Lutz? What’s wrong?”
<...Nothing.>
Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.
“That makes two of us”
It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.
But yet...
Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.
-------------------------
“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”
Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.
The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.
“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”
“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”
Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.
“Ludwig!”
Ludwig stood to attention.
“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”
Ludwig was speechless.
“How… Why?”
<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>
But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.
“Why am I excluded?”
She looked at him as if he was stupid.
“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy Bird’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”
“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”
“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”
Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.
-----------------
Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.
Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.
One person was clearly missing.
“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”
Her face was dire.
“Shot dead. ...He spotted us. He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”
More silence.
“...WHAT?!”
Silence immediately gave way to panic.
Ludwig stood, frozen.
“How… Why…”
He clutched his head, overwhelmed.
“But it can’t…”
Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.
What was going to happen to him? His friends?
“No, no, no, nonononononono…”
<You know what to do, kid.>
Suddenly, he bolted.
Along the harbor, he ran.
Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took off high into the sky, preparing to dive.
“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”
He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.
Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as monstrous, pitch-black wings appeared in the sky, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon raptor had materialized out of thin air.
The ship was no match. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship was swooped up into the talons of the avian monstrosity, and crushed into pieces, every single person on it with it.
----------------
Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.
Finally, someone broke the silence.
“...Holy shit.”
Another turned to him, their eyes wide.
“...Lud? Did you just…”.
The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?
He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.
But in the end...
“Mission accomplished…?”
“Am I trippin’?”
“Did we just witness a massacre?”
“...What the fuck?”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”
“Ja, but… Holy shit.”
“In anyway…”
Their boss cleared her throat.
“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”
The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.
Lutz flew up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.
“Lutz…”
<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>
In the raptor’s talons was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.
<Here. I brought a present.>
“What is…”
<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>
“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”
<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>
“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”
————-
The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.
“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the bird to attack…”
————-
When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.
“Ludwig…”
“Onkel?”
“...It was you wasn’t it?”
Ludwig looked down to his feet.
“Lutz, specifically…”
<Hey.>
Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.
“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”
"...”
Roderich pulled him in.
“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”
—————
Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.
He went out mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the terror bird as “a black Strix transformed with powerful magic.”
Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.
<Ludwig… Ludwig…>
“Huh?”
Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.
Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”
<Ludwig...>
He took the bag off his back and looked in.
<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>
“What?! How do you…”
<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.>
He slung it back over his shoulder.
“Lutz!”
He had to get Lutz. Now.
But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.
“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”
“There he is!”
Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.
A tanned, hazel-eyed, otherwise unassuming man with his hair tied back and in a partially unbuttoned shirt, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.
“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You’re under arrest!”
Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.
“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”
His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the bird, but clearly struggling.
“Hurry!”
She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.
Ludwig bolted.
“Don’t you dare, you-“
“Herr Edelmann! Stop, you’re interfering with police procedure!”
“Don’t touch him!”
The mysterious man finally shoved the other man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...
“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”
But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.
“LUDWIG!”
“Let me go, LET ME GO!”
That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.
Ludwig blacked out.
To be continued in part 2...
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Author’s notes:
So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...
Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.
Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!
(This is an alternate version of “Key to Zorn!”. You may read either version, as the differences are mostly superficial, but I thought this version may be more fitting considering how I write Alt-Germany)
[Summary: Crossover with the Wrath arc of the Evillious Chronicles. Everyone is searching for their very own Happy Ending... But where is his, if it exists at all?
Young Ludwig Beilshmidt lives alone in a cabin, waiting for the return of his mother. But one winter morning, a certain, seemingly chance encounter, changes his life forever, leading his life to become increasingly entangled with much larger plans...]
(Yes, lame summary, but I didn’t know how to write it without spoilers. The same text as the original is copy-pasted below)
Couldn’t come up with a better title.
Okay… so… holy hell.
This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.
I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!
I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.
This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.
Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.
So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.
However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.
This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.
Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.
The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.
Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.
Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.
And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.
Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!
I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!
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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)
And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.
Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.
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The Key To Zorn
Part one: And Then The Boy Went Mad
In a certain continent, there was a forest.
A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.
Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.
Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.
Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.
The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.
He sighed.
“Nothing today either...”
He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.
“I’m home!”
No one answered back.
As per usual.
He didn’t expect one anyway.
Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.
He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.
And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.
“Mutter, is it good?”
Nothing.
Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.
——-
Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.
Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.
Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.
He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.
He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.
She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.
No, no she wasn’t.
She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.
She was too strong to die.
She would come back. She always came back.
His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.
“Einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.
Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.
He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.
“Good night.”
He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.
Lu li la la lu li la la la…
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
———-
“FIRE!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.
Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.
Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.
Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.
And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.
He took a deep breath and aimed again.
“FIRE!”
-----------------------
When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.
They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.
He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.
Oh well.
-----------------------------
Days passed, then months.
Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.
The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.
He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.
Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.
Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.
A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.
But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?
-------------------
Now’s your time.
Alright. I’m going in. See you.
------------------
One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.
Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.
He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.
But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.
His heart almost stopped.
Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.
Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…
Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.
Dread shot through his body like lightning.
He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.
…
…
Tears fell from his face.
She was gone.
She was really gone.
Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.
But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.
Pure, unbridled wrath.
He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.
Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.
If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!
He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.
He was proven wrong that day.
All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.
Nothing.
His mother was never going to come back. Ever.
Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.
Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?
Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.
No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.
“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.
It was here he noticed something perched on the mailbox.
An eagle.
A medium-large eagle with pointy, perky ears and snout; a magnificent, beautiful coal-black Fernirhund, its bright, intelligent eyes a rare violet.
He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.
As he sniffled, the eagle nudged him again with its nose, looking up at him with its soulful eyes.
“...A eagle?”
The eagle stared at him back.
Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
“Are… are you from my Mutter?”
Silence.
Immediately, he embraced the eagle, making it yelp, crying into its fur.
“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”
It let him cry into its fur, as the boy’s short arms wrapped around it in the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.
He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.
For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.
<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>
------------------------------------------
“Oy vey… I was too late again.
...This world is fucked.”
-------------------------------------
Ludwig put a saucer of stew in front of the eagle, which surely enough it soon started lapping up.
“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”
He stared at the eagle, deep in thought.
“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”
The eagle looked at him.
“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”
<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>
--------------------
That night was different from usual.
Ludwig nestled his head in Schwarzchen’s fur, holding onto him like a stuffed animal, running his fingers through his soft coat. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.
The eagle’s breathing neutralized the deafening silence he had gotten so used to, its warmth protecting his small body from the frosty air.
It was like heaven.
Oh, he almost forgot something.
He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the eagle’s neck like a collar.
“There. Perfect. It suits you.”
He barked.
“Good night, Schwarzchen.”
That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, as he was surrounded by his new companion’s soft breathing and warm fur.
----------
“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”
Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.
Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.
He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.
In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.
A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.
“H… hallo?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I… Who are you?”
The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.
“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”
His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.
The boy nodded.
The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.
“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”
Tentatively, Ludwig took it.
The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.
Ludwig woke up.
The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.
“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”
He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.
“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”
<Are you really going with that name?>
Ludwig blinked.
“...Did you just…”
<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>
Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.
“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”
<Yes, this is the eagle. And I have a name.>
Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.
“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”
<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>
“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”
<Well you could say that.>
Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.
“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”
“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.
<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>
“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”
<But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>
“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”
<...Whatever, kid.>
---------------------------
Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.
His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.
Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him.
...Sometimes. Other times, the eagle merely yawned, telling him to “Do it on his own.”
Ludwig wondered if all eagles were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.
Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.
He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.
Almost.
——————
As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.
The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.
He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.
He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.
When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.
Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.
-----------------
Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.
<How cute.>
It was easy.
A bit too easy.
What did he expect from a child though.
<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.
Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.
...Though why do you have to use me as a pillow?>
--------------------
Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.
On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.
<Kid.>
“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”
<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>
Ludwig froze.
<Don’t cry on me.>
“I wasn’t going to”
<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>
The boy pondered it.
<I’m a eagle and even I think it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>
He was right.
“But… This is all I have ever known.”
<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>
“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”
————-
Ludwig opened his drawer.
There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.
Why did he still have it?
Just so he would never forget, probably.
Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.
--------------
Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.
It felt so odd to know he would be away from it.
He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.
<Are you done now?>
“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”
-----------
When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his and Lutz’s backs, he was in awe.
It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.
Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.
He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.
“Get out of the way brat!”
Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.
But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.
“...Where should I even start?”
<Well? Do you have any relatives?>
“Not that I know of.”
Lutz pointed in the direction of some other children, in a way much like how a pointer or setter eagle would.
<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>
“...Oh.”
Ludwig sighed. He may as well.
————-
“Shoo! Shoo!”
“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”
“Outta the way!”
————-
Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket, snuggling against Lutz, who had gotten used to the close contact years ago.
He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.
He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.
“Lutz?”
Lutz looked up.
<What is it, kid?>
“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”
<Didn’t you read about it?>
“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”
<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>
“...Lutz?”
<...What now?>
“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”
<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>
“Jawohl… Good night.”
————
Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.
After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.
Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.
It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.
For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.
“Lutz... is this...”
<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>
He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.
This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.
She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.
Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.
He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.
It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.
Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.
Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.
--------------
One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.
And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.
“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”
Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.
“...What business do you have with me?”
The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.
“I asked you a question, shorty!”
After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.
<Kid. Listen.>
“What?!”
<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>
“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”
————-
Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON eagle! DEMON eagle!”.
And there Lutz was, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.
————
A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.
That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.
<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>
Ludwig looked at the eagle, puzzled.
“What?”
Lutz pointed at a building.
<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>
“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”
<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.>
Lutz looked up to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.
“...Why didn’t you tell me that, you mutt?!”
<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.
Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.
Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.
“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”
--------------------------
“Your name?”
“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”
The officers looked at him for a few seconds.
“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”
“Jawohl.”
They were in shock.
“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”
“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”
“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”
“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”
————-
“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”
“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”
“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”
-------------
<This is boring.>
“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”
Lutz yawned.
“He should be here soon-”
It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.
Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.
“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”
Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.
“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”
He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.
“Ja?”
He looked him over.
“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”
“...Is that an insult against her?”
Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.
“Ah, sorry.”
He outstretched his hand.
“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”
Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.
“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”
Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.
“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”
Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.
Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.
But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.
————-
Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.
“I forgot to ask… what is that eagle doing with you? A purebred Fenrir no less?”
Lutz was lazily sprawled out in the back seat behind them, his ears pricking somewhat at the mention of him.
“Oh, that’s Lutz.”
“...Lutz? As in…”
“Jawohl.”
Roderich looked puzzled.
“Erm… Mutter named him.”
Roderich huffed.
“Ah, Julchen, of course…”
“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”
Roderich quieted for a few seconds.
“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”
“Jawo… ja.”
—————
Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.
And he had the house to show it as well.
“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”
Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.
A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.
“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”
Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.
“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”
“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”
Ludwig outstretched his hand.
The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.
“Hallo. I guess.”
She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.
Roderich sighed.
“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”
“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”
Ludwig scowled.
“Hey!”
Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.
“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”
“Fine, fine.”
She shook his hand, roughly.
“But the eagle is cute though. And wow, a Fenrir?! Hallo, come here!”
Lutz merely yawned.
Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.
“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”
She walked off.
“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”
Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.
“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”
He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.
“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”
<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>
“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”
————
That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.
He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available was amazing.
But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.
“Onkel, what is this?”
“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”
Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.
...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.
He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.
“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”
“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”
Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.
The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.
“...Ludwig?”
“...It’s amazing.”
Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.
“Even your mother was quite a fan.”
<Hey, hey. Kid.>
Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.
“Lutz? What is-“
<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>
Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient eagle.
“Ludwig!”
“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”
“...Wasn’t chocolate poisonous to eagles?”
Erzsébet questioned.
“Wait wha-“
<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>
Ludwig smiled nervously.
“He’ll be fine.”
The couple just stared, confused.
“Erm…”
“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”
“Absolutely.”
His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.
“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”
Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.
“Why don’t you is the better question.”
“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”
————
Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.
He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.
He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.
His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.
Yet…
Yet something was missing.
Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?
But yet…
Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.
But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.
Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.
But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Someone had to be doing something wrong.
At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.
Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.
While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.
“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”
<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>
“At least I have you.”
<Whatever.>
———
“Ludwig.”
“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”
The man sighed.
“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”
“...I just can’t, Onkel.”
“Excuse me?”
“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”
The man looked so disappointed.
“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”
“Nein. It isn’t that.”
Roderich shook his head.
“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”
—————
Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.
After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.
After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.
There was another episode that irked Ludwig.
One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.
“...Onkel?”
The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.
“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..
Then, Ludwig saw it.
In his hands was his mother’s necklace.
“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”
He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.
“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”
“I know you’re hiding it.”
The man sighed, taking it back out again.
“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”
Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.
“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”
“...Ja.”
Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.
“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”
“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”
When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.
“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”
<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>
“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”
<Oh come on now.>
“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”
<Alright, alright. Whatever.>
“You aren’t sincere, are you?”
<What do you want from me? Good night.>
——————
One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.
He was able to catch two things; “Miss Erzsébet” and “barren”.
He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.
That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.
<There goes the lovely couple.>
Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.
————
13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.
It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.
It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.
<Ergh. Try coming here as a eagle.>
They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.
Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.
“Hey! We know ya killed him!”
“Who?”
The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.
“Ya know who!”
The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.
“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”
Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp.
“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”
“...You better tell us.”
Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.
The rival boss laughed.
“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”
His boss smirked.
“Ya better listen to the kid.”
“Or what?”
They laughed uproariously.
“Lutz. Restrain.”
Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.
For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the claws of a giant, terrifying hellhound, its eyes glowing, its fangs bared, its breath in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.
Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.
Show your enemy no mercy.
Once again, he thought he felt his mother voice in his ear.
“Tell us the truth.”
The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.
“We… we… d-d-di…”
Ludwig cocked his pistol.
“Speak in a real language!”
The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.
“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”
Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.
“...Really?”
“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”
“...Alright. Lutz, release.”
The eagle shrank back down to size, returning to his original, fluffy, cute self.
His boss grumbled.
“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”
They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.
“W-Wait.”
Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.
“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”
———-
“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”
“Jawohl.”
Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.
“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”
Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.
“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”
“He said something about a curfew.”
“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”
-----------------
When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.
“Ludwig.”
“Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.
“...What have you been doing?”
“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.
“Let me state this plainly.”
He took a deep breath.
“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”
Ludwig was in shock.
“How…”
Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.
“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”
“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”
Roderich was shocked.
“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”
“I don’t know how to do anything else.”
Roderich shook his head.
“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“
“And they’re my friends.”
“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”
“...”
“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”
“I… I know!”
Roderich flinched.
Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, Lutz running behind him, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.
“Hmph, teenagers...”
Erzsébet mumbled.
—————-
“Ludwig?”
Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.
Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry.”
Roderich sighed.
“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”
The boy felt a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”
“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”
Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.
“But…”
“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”
<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>
“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”
His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.
Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.
Silence.
“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”
Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.
“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Leave me alone!”
“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”
Roderich sighed and closed the door.
From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.
But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.
Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.
And once again, wrath simmered within him.
----------------
Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.
Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.
His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.
Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends?
Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.
A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.
“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”
A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.
“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.
“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”
“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”
“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”
“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”
<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>
“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”
<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>
Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.
He immediately gagged.
The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.
“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”
Finally, the air became solemn.
“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”
“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”
—————-
Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.
He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.
So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.
But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.
He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.
Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.
Lutz licked up pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from under him.
“HERS?”
<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>
Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.
<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>
“How…”
<I have my ways.>
“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”
<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>
“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”
<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>
Ludwig sighed.
“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”
<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>
Ludwig continue to stare at him.
“I... I just didn’t think you would...”
<Turn the page already. I already know this.>
"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”
<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>
Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.
“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”
Lutz looked up, his ears erect.
His words struck him like a spark of lightning.
“That makes two of us”
An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.
Why was he so shocked?
Ludwig blinked, confused.
“Lutz? What’s wrong?”
<...Nothing.>
Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.
“That makes two of us”
It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.
But yet...
Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.
-------------------------
“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”
Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.
The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.
“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”
“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”
Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.
“Ludwig!”
Ludwig stood to attention.
“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”
Ludwig was speechless.
“How… Why?”
<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>
But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.
“Why am I excluded?”
She looked at him as if he was stupid.
“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy eagle’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”
“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”
“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”
Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.
-----------------
Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.
Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.
One person was clearly missing.
“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”
Her face was dire.
“Shot dead. ...He spotted us.”
“He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”
More silence.
“...WHAT?!”
Silence immediately gave way to panic.
Ludwig stood, frozen.
“How… Why…”
He clutched his head, overwhelmed.
“But it can’t…”
Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.
What was going to happen to him? His friends?
“No, no, no, nonononononono…”
<You know what to do, kid.>
Suddenly, he bolted.
Along the harbor, he ran.
Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took a running leap into the sea.
“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”
He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.
Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as Lutz became an utter behemoth of a beast, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow, his tail alone twice the size of the ship; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon eagle had risen out of the sea itself.
The ship was no match for the beast. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship had been sunk, every single person on it with it.
----------------
Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.
Finally, someone broke the silence.
“...Holy shit.”
Another turned to him, their eyes wide.
“...Lud? Did you just…”.
The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?
He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.
But in the end...
“Mission accomplished…?”
“Am I trippin’?”
“Did we just witness a massacre?”
“...What the fuck?”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”
“Ja, but… Holy shit.”
“In anyway…”
Their boss cleared her throat.
“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”
The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.
Lutz trotted up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.
“Lutz…”
<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>
In the eagle’s jaws was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.
<Here. I brought a present.>
“What is…”
<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>
“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”
<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>
“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”
————-
The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.
“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the eagle to attack…”
————-
When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.
“Ludwig…”
“Onkel?”
“...It was you wasn’t it?”
Ludwig looked down to his feet.
“Lutz, specifically…”
<Hey.>
Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.
“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”
"...”
Roderich pulled him in.
“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”
—————
Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.
He went out in mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the beast as “a black Fenrir transformed with powerful magic.”
Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.
<Ludwig… Ludwig…>
“Huh?”
Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.
Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”
<Ludwig...>
He took the bag off his back and looked in.
<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>
“What?! How do you…”
<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.>
He slung it back over his shoulder.
“Lutz!”
He had to get Lutz. Now.
But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.
“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”
“There he is!”
Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.
A tanned, sturdy-looking man in a black suit, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.
“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You are under arrest!”
Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.
“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”
His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the eagle, but clearly struggling.
“Hurry!”
She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.
Ludwig bolted.
“Don’t you dare, you-“
“Herr Edelmann! Stop, or you will be arrested as well for interfering with police procedure!”
“Don’t touch him!”
The mysterious man finally shoved the weaker-looking man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...
“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”
But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.
“LUDWIG!”
“Let me go, LET ME GO!”
That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.
Ludwig blacked out.
To be continued in part 2...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Author’s notes:
So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...
Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.
Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!
#hhvdEvent#hws germany#aph germany#evillious chronicles#Key to Zorn series#alt-talia#2p germany#Evillious Chronicles x Alt-talia series
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So we start off Homestuck 2 with a picture of space. Got some green space clouds. So far nothing I would not expect. Though I see there also appears to be a spaceship of some kind, zooming through all this space. Would this be Dirk’s ship?
. . . Yep. That’s defiantly Dirk’s ship. I’m sure Theseus has some really deep, literary meaning, but the reference flies right over my head. As does most of Dirk’s references. He’s too smart for me.
I find it funny that Jake continues the tradition of emblazoning his face on his things. We saw his alt-self of Grandpa Harley doing at all the time. Dirk, of course, has to scribble out the face of his ex.
Dirk. Dirk, are you wearing a villain cape right now? Is that what you’re doing in this moment? Dirk, please.
He is totally wearing a villain cape, complete with tattered edges. He is also wearing a Heart gi, because Dirk is nothing if not anime.
Jesus Christ, I already see the paragraphs of orange under this. You’re gonna make me read all this, aren’t you. Dirk?
Dirk proves to be as verbose as ever.
So did Dirk really write out all his narration on physical pieces of paper and scatter them over his desk? Did he do that just to be Extra, or is that something he has to do as an Author now? Do they only count in the narrative text if they are actual text and not just his own thoughts?
Whatever the case may be, Rose interrupts his soliloquy.
I have it on authority that decanting is sometimes necessary to ensure a wine is at its best. I like to think that the same was ultimately true of her.
Decanting of a person’s soul sounds particularly ominous, thought I can’t express the exact reason why.
ROSEBOT: I just imagined you wearing an apron over your god tier outfit and almost felt my facial fuselage buckle in such a way as to approximate a fleeting smile.
Glad to see being a robot and also assimilating all her possible selves Rose remains a sass queen.
DIRK: Alright we get it you are literally a robot.
DIRK: No need to keep pointing it out every chance you can get. I got enough of this with the Auto Responder.
ROSEBOT: I'm just playing along.
ROSEBOT: One of the fundamentals of bad science fiction is that any artificial beings must make their inorganic nature known at every juncture they can.
DIRK: Do overly precise and completely meaningless statistics that you pull out of your ass on the fly also count?
ROSEBOT: Oh absolutely.
ROSEBOT: That's one of the first things you just sort of spontaneously learn when being booted up.
ROSEBOT: For example, I've calculated that by making these remarks I have raised the base level of amusement in all my conversations by 36%.
DIRK: Well I don't personally find them very funny.
Dirk has some trauma with robots pulling out bullshit statics. Which makes it all the more fascinating he continues to build robots that can have free thought.
Jesus Christ, it wasn’t just the lighting, Dirk’s shades really are orange now. Hussie may not have known about Kamina when he designed Bro, but Dirk always wearing Kamina glasses has just become a part of his character. So much so that they are even colored like Kamina’s instead of black now. I have to wonder, had Kamina not been a character that already existed or if people hadn’t kept pointing out that Dirk/Bro wore shades similar to an anime character, would Dirk be so anime? Is being anime just a character trait that Hussie gave him because of a funny coincidence and he wanted to play up the joke, or was he always intended to be so anime?
Also is that trashcan literally an inferno?
ROSEBOT: I just thought you might like to know that we're getting pretty close to your chosen crash site.
Do they not know how to land the ship? Does the ship not have landing gear? Do they need to crash for narrative reasons and otherwise would be perfectly capable of landing normally? Is Rose just making a joke?
DIRK: Wait, crash site??
Oh, good, Dirk is as confused as I am. So that rules out narrative reasons.
ROSEBOT: A landing gear appears to have fallen just a little outside the realm of vital.
So lacking landing gear it is! God damn it, Jake.
DIRK: (God DAMN it English.)
Ha!
ROSEBOT: Don't be such a chud, Dirk.
I am afraid to ask what a chud is. Is that like a cuck? I don’t know what a cuck is either. I am also afraid to ask what a cuck is.
ROSEBOT: She's functionally mortal, remember?
Yeah, that really sucks that Karkat, Terezi, and Kanaya all lack godtier. Karkat would complain about his lack of flight abilities, but I’m surprised Terezi or Kanaya never brought up this fact. Especially Kanaya, what with her marriage to Rose. Kanaya would eventually grow old and die, leaving Rose to keep on living. Of course, Rosebot has decided to leave her loving wife behind so in this particular case that point doesn’t matter.
DIRK: You mean to say that you don't think we'd be in peril if it came to it?
DIRK: There's nothing about our situation that strikes you as falling within the bounds of precarity, as far as the rules are concerned?
ROSEBOT: Oh. You're right. I suppose I hadn't thought of that.
ROSEBOT: But I think we can remain calm in the knowledge that nothing particularly heroic is going on right now. At least, not that I'm aware of.
DIRK: ... Right.
Not sure if Dirk’s meaning flew over Rose’s head, or if she’s just choosing to ignore the possibility of Just deaths as a joke.
That doesn't mean this (*gestures to the narrative*) isn't still going to be a thing, though.
I don’t know why, but this tickles my funny bone.
All in all I think you'll find, as far as narrators go, I'm an excellent... hm. On second thought, maybe that's a bit of a problematic phrase. Yeah, yikes, that one's got a sordid history. Best we steer clear of it. We're all lucky I'm around to make those kinds of sensitivity judgements on everyone's behalf.
I’m glad you can recognize that Homestuck fans all have a fight or flight response that that memetic phrase, but I don’t appreciate you patting yourself on the back for being sensitive when you, as a narrator, could not use Roxy’s correct pronouns once they came to light.
It's time to get this story back on the rails, back to what it was always supposed to be. I know it, and you've somehow always known it too. There was something else, some other route that Homestuck was meant to take but then didn't, a way that wouldn't've spent so much time dicking around with stuff nobody cares about. Like seriously, why did we all have to sit through talking about everyone's most intimate and private feelings for two hundred thousand fucking words. That would never have happened in Act 1. Where did it all go wrong?
So Dirk’s grand plan is to go back to the asinine tomfoolery of Act 1? To do away with character relations and feelings and have people messing around with their sylladexes? I must say, I never would have expected this from the likes of Dirk. I thought he was all about the complex thought processes and inner turmoil.
Thank you for returning the narration to classic black, Dirk. It’s so much easier on the eyes.
Channelling my full potential as an ascended player of Heart, I expand my consciousness to commune with the boundless force of collective willpower that is the internet.
Wow, who knew Heart players could become the internet. I mean, I guess it makes sense. The internet is just a collection of people, and Heart is all about the soul.
I was really hoping the command box he made would be an actual command box. I missed out on the Homestuck days of old where the command box was a real thing. It would have been fun to be a part of that myself, but I understand the fandom is just too big for that ever to be feasible again. That’s why it was done away with in the first place, and that was when the fandom was smaller.
The writers came up with e good command, though.
Yeah, I have a feeling Dirk is going to decide to ignore this command and stop taking suggestions. Either that, or he’s going to inform us that he is not making Homestuck, he’s making Homestuck 2.
But I should have known better. People think you can run a story like this? This must be just about the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with. I'll just have to make up the commands myself from here on out. Seemed to work ok for the other guy.
Yep, pretty much what I expected.
Oh Jesus Christ, what even is this room?
O.K., let’s take things from the top. Looks like we got the beta kids’ entry items, as well as their Aspect flags from Prospit and Derse. Why does Dirk have these things? There also appear to be some cruxite dowels next to them, but they are any of the colors we’ve seen before.
WOAH, HOLD UP, Are those Dave’s copies of SBURB? Or are they Bro’s? Clearly Dirk has just collected a bunch of items from various points in Homestuck’s timeline like some sort of museum. For what purpose, though?
Oh my god, there’s a Tab watering can. I assume it was alchemized, since Dirk mentioned earlier using alchemy to make his rad new shades. I wonder why Dirk has that Skaianet poster on his wall. I would have thought he’d want nothing to do with anything Jake had his fingers in. Then again, there also appears to be a kotatsu with Jake’s bedspread in the middle of the room.
I can’t tell what the green thing is next to the mutated kitten. Or what that other green thing next to the robot horse is either.
OH FUCK ME THERE’S A ROBOT CAL IN THE PROCESS OF BEING MADE. DIRK, NO. WHY. YOU HAVE THE NARRATIVE CONTROL NOW, YOU SHOULD KNOW CAL IN ANY FORM IS BAD NEWS.
Is that... Is that an anime body pillow there at the bottom?
I also keep my FLORA OF THE SUCCULENT PERSUASION in here, so's I can keep an eye on them.
Dirk grows succulents... That is not a character trait I expected of him.
> Continue
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Send me 💘 + a ship and I’ll tell you—
@hidan-san
SasoHida - Modern Verse - Artist Alt
where they first met and how - Sasori was painting a triptych in a church where Hidan is a priest. He is somewhat familiar with biblical texts, and favors a more Michelangelo style - that is, he portrays most of his painted subjects in various states of undress. So, he was asked by a local bishop to, uh… please. Cover them up. FOR THE SAKE OF THE CHILDREN.
Sasori, of course, spiteful. Makes them even MORE naked, more debauched. Throws in a beheaded Dionysus just for flavor. Hidan knows he’s not supposed to laugh, but…
God. This shortie is funny as fuck.
And the bishop can’t even oppose because… technically, yes. It is a pagan god being beheaded. He is portraying Adam and Even in their natural state. This damn satanic redhead is bending ALL THE RULES without breaking them.
how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved - Sasori spent a month on each panel, then one more month making them all dirty. Hidan spent the dirty month hiding his snickers and offering quiet suggestions on how to make it worse better - like, say, having a snake bite a sinner’s testicles.
Sasori turned him down. Not because it was too much, but because, quote unquote, ‘it has already been done. I am creative with my torture.’
That is when Hidan decided that he had to marry this twink.
who fell for who first ( if applicable ) - See above.
where their first date was and what it was like - It was at the church. Hidan noticed that the artist was useless in the mornings and brought him coffee - Sasori’s third cup that day.
Sasori, who is never opposed to being spoiled, sniffed at the coffee for poison. But then decided that death was better than being awake without caffeine. He drank the coffee, staring blankly while Hidan blathered on and on about it being cruelty-free, wondering when he was going to die and being strangely okay with that.
who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ) - Hidan tricks Sasori into giving him his phone number by asking for a business card lol. Then he calls Sasori and asks him how much a nude portrait of himself would cost. Sasori told him two thousand, flat.
Hidan like. I don’t have that type of money - how about a date? Fifty dollars, tops.
Sasori had nothing better to do and accepted.
who proposes first - Assuming that marriage is legal, Hidan. In general, he makes the first move, and neither he nor Sasori do flings at this point in their lives.
if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away - Hidan bragged about dating the damn satanic redhead to anyone that would listen and several that wouldn’t. Sasori just quietly changed his relationship status to “It’s complicated.”
Hidan laughed.
where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) - It happens in the church where they met and Hidan works, on an afternoon where the sun streams in through the windows and everything is golden. Hidan asks Sasori if he wants to be together forever, to which Sasori scoffs, “Of course,” and Hidan pulls out the ring. “Heh. Guess I don’t need to bribe you.” Then he puts it back AND SASORI IS LIKE WAIT NO-
if they adopt any pets together - A Husky! Whose name is “Wolf.” Sasori calls her, “dog.”
who’s more dominant - Sasori, though Hidan makes the first move. (I feel like this is common in Sasori’s ships to be honest.)
where their first kiss was and what it was like - IT WAS in a theater. Sasori hated the movie and turned to Hidan and said they were making out now. Hidan, naturally, obliged.
if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ) - They have matching decor because Sasori is in charge of interior design XD. After hearing that Sasori thought Hidan was poisoning him, he also bought Sasori a bunch of coffee mugs (which Hidan occasionally uses) referring to poison.
how into pda they are - HIDAN IS —less forward at first — BUT THEN GETS VERY INTO IT. He constantly has an arm on Sasori’s shoulders (possessive—plus he likes bugging his beau). To which Sasori protests, weakly.
who holds the umbrella when it rains - Hidan. Sasori makes him.
where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ) - at home, with takeout, watching Netflix, on the couch. Sasori is reading a book.
who’s more protective - hard to say. Sasori would poison someone that tried taking something that was his, but Hidan would get a baseball bat with nails at the end and go to town on the offender in question.
how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ) - uhhh I want to say a three months? They didn’t rush things but once Sasori fell asleep on the couch and Hidan put him to bed. But then Sasori wouldn’t let go of his shirt, and rather than wake him up, Hidan shrugged and slept too.
if they argue about anything - Constantly. Bickering is a hobby for them.
who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) - Hidan leaves more marks and Sasori smacks him when he bites too hard.
who steals whose clothes and how often - Sasori steals Hidan’s clothes, especially his comfy hoodies and night clothes… Hidan is not stylish enough—or small enough—to steal everyday clothes haha.
how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) - Hidan splayed on top of Sasori like a starfish.
what their favourite nonsexual activity is - Sasori likes gossiping, but doesn’t necessarily have people he can trust with sensitive information. Hidan is a good listener.
Hidan likes watching Sasori rant about other artists/people and eggs him on. He finds it hilarious.
He makes a point of talking through the anger afterward. As a priest, he often counsels people through these things... and he kinda likes feeling useful.
But Sasori hates hates HATES when Hidan tries to tell him how to live his life. Hidan has learned that this is not a good idea.
how long they stay mad at each other - FOR-FUCKING-EVER
what their usual coffee / tea orders are - Sasori has Turkish coffee, and Hidan has green tea (it reminds him of home), usually with some sort of pastry.
if they ever have any children together - not unless they adopt.
if they have any special pet names for each other - Hidan calls Sasori “dollface” and Sasori calls Hidan “idiot.”
if they ever split up and / or get back together - NEITHER OF THEM BELIEVE IN DIVORCE SO NO.
what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ) - very clean with a bit of disorganization that Sasori nags Hidan about. Neither Sasori nor Hidan are messy people - Sasori by nature, Hidan by habit - and though Sasori is somewhat of a hoarder, he usually keeps it neat and contained to his personal spaces.
Sasori chooses the decor. It is sleek and modern with stainless steel.
what their first christmas as a couple was like - They got into an argument because Sasori didn’t celebrate Christmas and Hidan felt like Sasori was looking down on him. No, Sasori literally couldn’t care less. But he failed to communicate this until they got into a heated argument where Sasori threatened Hidan with his palette knife and Hidan laughed at him because those things are so nonthreatening. Then Sasori stabbed him with it.
They made up in the hospital room. Sasori explained himself. Hidan thought it was hot.
They learned new things about each other that day.
what their names are in each other’s phones - Hidan is “Hidan” in Sasori’s phone. Hidan jokingly changes it depending on his mood, to Father Hidan, Bishop Mao, Pope Urban the Third.
Sasori is ”damn satanic redhead”. Sasori knows this and doesn’t care. Just dryly tells Hidan to not mention his revolving head at the next meeting of the exorcists. (Hidan cackles.)
if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) - Not that I can think of.
who falls asleep first and who wakes up first - Hidan goes to bed first because he has to wake up to pray. Sasori is. . . impossible to wake up before 9am without at least two cups of coffee. He stays up until 3am.
who’s the big spoon / little spoon - Hidan is the big spoon I guess? If only because it is more convenient. Sasori won’t admit he likes it.
who hogs the bathroom - god. They fight over the bathroom. Hidan and his hair/skin products, Sasori and his makeup, they physically push each other out of the mirror. Christ.
who kills the spiders / takes them outside - Hidan is FRIGHTENED OF SPIDERS and would kill them if he weren’t backing away rapidly.
Sasori takes them outside.
X
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Links and Questions. ★~(◡﹏◕✿)
Some helpful writer links to help @the-clockwork-anything get into writblr!
● where do I find models for face claims? Like, do you guys just search characters’ physical traits in google, or is there a better way to do it?!
There are many good tumblrs that allow you to sort through specific traits, looks, and styles. They are sorted by tags or by clicking buttons on the theme, but most are self-explanatory.
Here are some of my favorites: 1 2 3 4
● specifically for camp nano, if I’ve already been writing the story, does that matter, or do I just start off typing on the website in the middle of my story?
Camp Nano is for anything! Unlike normal NaNoWriMo, you can continue a project with any amount of words you want to achieve that month. I usually do see people starting a new WIP, though. Here is it from the official page: 1
● Also, while I’m at it, does anyone want to be in my cabin?!
I would love to be in your cabin! My NaNo account is under “beanaid” or feel free to send me a link! (✿◠‿◠)
● What programs and websites do you recommend for writing, outlining, designing OCs, making aesthetics, etc.?!
I really, really like manuskript personally, although it is a little hard to work. It’s like the popular Scrivner, but free! Google Docs is the safest bet and very intuitive, as it saves your work automatically, has great formatting, and is easily sharable. (n˘v˘•)¬
Here are links to both: GD MS
● Got any tips for how to get through Camp NaNo and meet my goals?
Fight your inner editor! Just keep writing even though it may be the worst thing you’ve laid eyes on. Stay in touch with people that motivate you and remember to find inspiration anywhere, be it from images, music, or words. ヽ(^◇^*)/
Here are some descriptive words and a list of free Ghibli movies: DS GM
I’ve found that listening to my writing is also very helpful!
Here is a link to a text to speech website: 1
● Are there easier ways to do research? Specific websites, different ways to use google, stuff like that? How do I find people who are knowledgeable about the topics I want to research???
I would always suggest perusing places that hold a large fan-base. Want to know about medical things? Find a medical forum, etc. You can always ask questions or call out for help if you can’t find someone with a trait or interest, and I’m sure they’d love to gush! ≧◡≦
Here is one from a pharmacist and writer: 1
Here is one about sleep deprivation: 1
● should I take measures to copyright/protect work I post on the Internet? I mean, I probably should, but how?
This is, unfortunately, a question I cannot answer. You may be able to find a website that is uncopy-paste-able/not able to screenshot, upload your work, and use a link. ●︿●
● Can someone tell me how to use tumblr effectively as a writing medium? How do I make wip pages…. how do I organize my work…….. please help me I have no idea what’s going on here.
You can create writing pages by adding a page to your Tumblr page and then using a pre-made theme. There are so many, look around the blogs of the links below! Organizing your work is a little more challenging, though tags for chapters and WIP’s go a long way. ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)
Here are some of my favorite WIP pages: 1 2 3
Thank you for reading, I wish you luck! If you need any more help, feel free to ask me!
(〃￣ω￣〃ゞ
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Skam NL episodes 4 and 5 reaction
This is incredibly late but there was no way I was not going to write about Engel’s detour into waxing hell.
Episode 4
Clip 1 - Piesiepoepselaar
Isa and Kes are lying together in the morning and it’s very serene. He’s had the same nightmare as Jonas did in the original, though I think the context is different … russ is like a thing that Jonas objects to on principle, would Kes be against just taking a city trip?
He’s like, “You took off your shirt and made out with everyone, boys and girls.” Lmao, I don’t think Isa is going to get that wild in Tallinn.
Isa replies that she’ll only take off her shirt for Kes. So this isn’t really a hint of an actual problem or any condescension on his part, they’ve re-purposed this exchange into some purely flirty interaction.
This cute moment is interrupted by Isa’s mom unexpectedly popping in. She calls her daughter “pissing pooper”? Hands down the best/worst nickname I have heard a parent call their child. And of course Kes loves it.
Clip 2 - Orgy preparation
Isa gets a call from “Pap” soooo her dad is still kind of in the picture?
Engel bounds up to Isa, she looks very happy to see her. And when Janna and Imaan come up, she also looks happy to see them. Engel is so cute.
Except LMAO, GOD. She addresses Imaan with “Salaam-Alaikum,” and seems a little proud of herself, as if she Googled “how to speak Muslim” over the weekend. So I guess instead of being an outright exclusionary racist, she’s going to be like … a well-intentioned white ally who goes too far and ends up othering her Muslim friend by not treating her the same as the non-Muslims? That’s a pretty interesting take. It certainly puts Engel in a better light than Vilde, since she is trying to be inclusive rather than rejecting Imaan, but it also explores Imaan’s struggle with having to deal with people treating her differently than her peers, or changing their behavior toward her since she’s a Muslim.
Imaan is just like “.... Hi.” I feel like at some point she’s going be like, “Look, you can just treat me like you’d treat anyone else.”
Janna starts coughing, and at first I thought she was trying to salvage the awkward moment, but she’s actually gesturing for Engel to look over yonder because GUESS WHAT, a certain dude is climbing the stairs.
Dutch William has a very long coat and seems more like an artsy edgy hipster kid, maybe, than a regular king-of-the-school fuckboy. His head is down so we don’t get a full view of his face, it’s like he’s ~mysterious and gives no fucks.
That blond dude from the party, Gijs, is part of Dutch William’s (Noah’s) crew, of course, and nods in recognition to Isa. They’re like, HOLY SHIT, Isa, what happened there?
Apparently one of them (Gijs or Noah) the wildest parties, with orgies. And not some weak-ass orgies where people sit in the hot tub together. Full-on power orgies with naked bodies. Janna sure knows her orgy classifications.
Engel’s facial expressions when Janna mentions orgies, lmao. This little frown.
The girls are like, “There’s a party this Friday,” and Isa’s like “...OK?” Imaan has to explain that Janna and Engel want Isa to flirt with the guy so they can get in to the party. She takes Isa’s phone and does her thing. Well, that’s interesting because Imaan doesn’t seem so invested personally in going to the party? I mean, there’s no real benefit to their city trip. Is she doing it because Janna and Engel want to? Like she wants to be in with these girls and have friends?
Janna is amused and laughs at Imaan’s liking all of Gijs’ pics. Engel just seems stunned. A Muslim did that???? Maybe she had Imaan all wrong. Maybe she needs to consult Google again.
Clip 3 - BUY YOUR OWN GODDAMN FRIES
Isa, Kes, and Lucas go out for food. Isa is the only one to order fries, and when she asks if they want fries, they’re like nahhhh. IMMEDIATELY my bullshit detector went off. They’re going to steal her fucking fries, aren’t they?
At one point the word “EVEN” is visible through the window, heh.
Lucas has injured his left hand, which I am assuming is a thing the actor did IRL and they had to explain it into the story. Kes roasts Lucas about his injury (which happened while skateboarding) and Lucas is like, “At least I take risks.” Yeah, some of those risks will apparently involve fucking up your friends’ relationship?
Kes asks Isa if they’re going to hang out at her place, I am assuming just the two of them, while Lucas gives Kes a long look. Actually, those are some high-quality Looks that Lucas has been serving to Kes. Make sure this show gets to season 3, okay? So he can put his pining face to good use.
Kes says the whole thing about Isa’s mom not knowing about him, and that Isa is ashamed of him, and Lucas is like, well, she’s right!
But of course Gijs is now sending her messages about Isa’s IG stalking. Just as Kes is offering to cook for her and her mom. Isa, let him cook for you! That’s more proactive than any Jonas has offered yet, right?
Gijs is turned on by Isa stalking him. You know, I’ve never just how many kinks the P-Chrises have, like he’s into nerds, being stalked, pretending to be the Eva’s dad/mom/whatever ... he’s just up for anything.
Lucas mentions that Isa has too many new friends, maybe even a new boyfriend, and THAT is some snake-ass shit, planting that seed out there. Even if he’s just talking shit and kidding. He doesn’t know he’ll be kinda right, but man, will Kes remember that when shit hits the fan? Kes seemed so indifferent though, like he’s all “lady friends” and not taking it seriously.
I WAS FUCKING RIGHT, THEY STEAL HER GODDAMN FRIES. Taking advantage of her distraction while messaging Gijs.
This is the realest shit though, like nothing Jonas and Isak said about Eva’s involvement in russ compared to this disrespect. Teenage boys are the WORST.
But yeah, there’s not nearly as much putting down of Isa’s friends or activities (since who is gonna be like “it’s so CAPITALISTIC that you want to take a fun trip to a city”?) apart from some passive-aggressiveness about Kes not meeting Isa’s mom and Isa being too popular. Still, it feels less mean, and Isa didn’t seem as attacked.
Clip 4 - The most important conversation I’ve ever heard
The title of this clip was “full bush baby” and I was like … is that really going to refer to what I think it is? Like either we are talking about a small primate, or someone’s private hedge maze.
I love Janna looking like a hot mess in every scene. Like she literally rolled out of her bed, which is an ostrich nest, and went to school. She’s telling a story about opening a beer in class while Engel looks bothered about something in the background.
OH MY GOD, Engel looks troubled not because of any angsty Noah pining or Imaan drama or any of what you’d expect, but because she shaved her pubic hair and it itches. WE STAN.
…. Is this taking the place of the birth control conversation??? Instead of Engel asking about birth control, she wants the girls to tell her how they remove their pubic hair?
I am not remotely surprised that Janna is a full bush baby.
Imaan saying she dyes hers red, white, and blue = MY LOVE.
Engel takes that completely seriously judging by her confused little face. Engel’s life is 90% confusion.
Janna says if she waxes, she can wax a lightning bolt. Please be a Harry Potter reference. (You know, I’m sure wizards have hair removal spells and all, but I’m imagining someone being like ACCIO PUBES and ripping out everything at once.)
Engel is nervous about waxing. Oh my God, instead of the nurse, are they going to go for a bikini wax together?????
Isa gets a text. Turns out they’re going to the party! Engel gets excited and starts throwing out outfit possibilities.S he rambles a bit and then Imaan does the “shhh, you talk too much” moment.
Now it feels a little out of place, because Engel, while not behaving perfectly, has been way less of an ass to Imaan? And I get that this is for Engel’s own preservation, sort of, but they’re not trying to gain social capital at the level that Vilde and Sana were. The OG girl squad wanted to attract cool people to their bus and hook up with popular boys; NL girl squad isn’t concerned with getting cool people on their trip, and while they want to go to parties, they don’t have this firm objective of hooking up with the popular dudes. So the moment seemed a bit out of nowhere. I mean, Engel rambling about her outfits is tedious, but harmless.
Imaan has some gorgeous lashes, by the way.
Clip 5 - This is a very serious show
Oh my God, they DID go for a bikini wax. So is the state of Engel’s pubic hair going to be a plot point? Does she want it to look groomed for him?
Okay, I’m laughing that Norwegian-style bush is a heart (ALT ER LOVE), French pubes are a mustache, and Dutch hedges are … flames? A flower? A flower for the ladygarden.
THE GRAVE IMPORTANCE OF THIS SCENE. The music and the cherub mural really add to the atmosphere.
Janna talks about an ass wax because of course she does.
I love that you hear a scream from the other room. Perfect.
I laughed out loud that Engel just shakes her head and runs. And that Imaan puts her arms around the girls and eggs them on.
I like Skam to have a plot and all but I would thoroughly enjoy 10 episodes of just random calamities in pubic hair removal.
Clip 6 - Orgy time
OH DAMN, I LOVE
This is my favorite episode 4 (or equivalent) power walk other than the original. I LOVE it. The song choice! The girls look like they’re having a blast. Engel jumping on Liv’s back!!! Imaan yelling in sync with the rooster crying!!!
ESPECIALLY with the juxtaposition of this badass power walk, the girls getting hyped and feeling cool on the way to the party - because yeahhhh!!!! Young and free, bitches!!!!! - with the pause where they’re actually standing in front of the door, debating over who has to ring the bell. That’s utterly beautiful, I love it. Expectations vs. reality right there.
Liv being like “It’s open,” lol.
Engel knows Olivia and company, I don’t think they said how?? Because we knew how Vilde knew Ingrid. But I mean, they go to school together, soooo. (Or did Engel get kicked off a city trip group?)
Janna, you promised an orgy, and this is a bunch of teenagers drinking and dancing in a basement. The clothes are most definitely on.
I was spoiled for Janna’s making out with a girl, but I still got hella excited when she and this girl were sticking out their tongues at each other.
Lmao, is Engel rambling about her car malfunctions to Noah? Maybe Imaan was right to shush her.
Also, Engel’s dad is in the picture. Or was, at a certain point.
Okay I don’t know if maybe this is fashionable for Dutch kids, but I love that Noah is wearing this baggy old man shirt.
And that his kiss with Engel is a little awkward.
Who is this kid. Why is he like this.
Lmao, Liv telling Isa to talk to Gijs about Tallinn so he’ll leave. Does not bode well for their city trip if that’s what she thinks?
WHOOPS, Isa forgot that dinner with Kes was supposed to happen.
Gijs does not know Tallinn is a city, so he’s like, “Who’s Tallinn?” lmao.
JANNA AND THAT GIRL GOING TO TOWN, YESSSSSSSS
So in terms of Skam remake wlw content, I believe we have:
Skam France: Alexia is bi. Of course I appreciate this but they haven’t really spotlighted it outside of like one or two comments, and they don’t really integrate her sexuality into the story or into the dialogue even when it would be relevant (which is a big problem with Skam France as a whole). It’s canon by the actress’ Word of God.
Druck: Mia is bi. In canon she “doesn’t like labels” and is shown to make out with Hanna, though that was for telling off Alexander. Bi by word of God.
Skam Austin: Shay takes Isak’s place in the story, having a crush on Megan which is her character’s motivation. This is the biggest wlw content, clearly, since Shay will hopefully get her own season. The character is a lesbian and her sexuality plays a role in the story, plus I’m pretty sure the actress is a lesbian herself (and is a black lesbian so we have intersectional diversity).
Skam NL: Janna makes out with a girl at a party. HOPEFULLY she isn’t straight and this isn’t just a drunken makeout because girls kissing at a party is hot. I hooooope.
Hmmm, you know what? I actually buy Imaan’s throwing water at Olivia a lot more, because Engel has at least tried to be nice to Imaan. Like I understand that Sana is fiercely loyal and once she’s on your team, she’s with you 110%, so once she’s with the girl squad, she’s ride or die. But assuming Imaan was throwing water at Olivia because Olivia called Engel a slut, I get why. Engel has been awkward and othered Imaan but she’s tried to be nice. (But for Engel, you know she’s going to be like WTF?)
I love this closing song as they run away into the night!
Is it wrong that I kind of like Noah so far? Because I get that he’s likely going to come with all of William’s bullshit, but ... he’s fucking weird, man.
Episode 5
Clip 1 - Making a family party awkward
Kes’ sister is a cutie!
Oh, I love that we got a little glimpse of his family? His mom, and his grandparents.
This really changes the tone of this scene from the original, because Eva goes over and encounters Jonas when he’s just hanging out with his friends and being passive-aggressive, and it felt like having the boys there made Jonas ramp up his attitude. Kes appears to be relaxed, he’s having a good time with his family. I wonder if these are the actor’s real relatives? The boys look like they could be his brothers.
But Kes does get in a passive-aggressive comment about her friends, and he’s been ignoring her for a few days.
Also, Lucas isn’t part of this moment where they’re ganging up on Isa, when the Isak is typically snickering at what’s happening.
We cut inside where relatives are having a pleasant time while the Youths fight. We don’t hear their argument but I mean, we know what they’re talking about.
Kes is like, “I forgot about the dinner,” as if he’s not upset, which makes Isa storm out, and his family notices that she’s upset.
Isa is out on the street and she once again puts in her earbuds and listens to music to get out her feelings. I like that as a stress release/coping tactic/whatever you want to call it for her.
This is a Sigrid song, by the way! “Strangers,” a totally appropriate song for relationship dysfunction and dismantling the perfect movie romance. Really interesting with Isa’s somewhat romanticized view of love - sometimes you just know, that’s how it’s supposed to be, etc.
Is Kes going to run out after her?
Nope, he doesn’t run after her. Not like in the movies. Isa just does a walk down the street. She’s not happy but it seems like listening to music steadies her a bit and gives her an outlet for her emotions so that she’s not a total mess.
Clip 2 - Engel does not know how the pill works, sigh
The title of this clip was Het is Zover and there was a still of Liv so I was like … are we finally headed down this f/f romcom route? Het is Over? (I know, I know, it has an actual meaning in Dutch.) But it ended up referring to something heterosexual, lmao.
I like Isa’s little toucan key chain.
Isa is not in a good mood, Liv looks fondly at her girl and asks about Kes. Liv knows what’s up with 17-year-old boys.
Engel pops up and says it’s time for her and Noah to go to the bone zone. Isa is like, that was fast. So I guess they are going down this sex storyline; the wax was a fun bonus.
Engel being like “I know It’s Time because I DMed with Noah all weekend and he’s perfect” - God help us.
Engel asks for the pill like she’s asking for ibuprofen, and when she says eh, it’ll be nothing then, Liv is like nuh uh, you’re going to the doctor. Thank you, Liv.
Engel gets them to agree to go by offering a bottle of wine each. When Isa tells Liv that she (Liv) doesn’t even drink, Liv is like, two for you, right? WHOOOOOOA. True love right there.
I had the worst thought and wondered if Engel’s failure to get her pubes waxed is going to lead to Noah making a shit comment about them later, like when Engel confronts him. Because teenage boys think girls should be completely hairless, like porn stars or babies!
Clip 3 - Isa can’t sleep
Isa is watching a video on her phone when she gets a notification about something her dad posted. It’s a little kid getting a swimming certificate, so I’m guessing that’s her dad’s new family.
Isa gets up to go sit on her mom’s bed. She asks for a foot rub, which her mom gives her, until her mom starts asking about Olivia and Tess. Then the feet come back up to Isa’s chest.
Her mom’s like, I’m just trying to show interest. Isa is probably thinking that’s more than her dad does. She extends a leg again.
Perhaps that’s why Isa opens up to her and tells her she has a boyfriend. When she tells her mom his name is Kes, her mom doesn’t comment on it being Olivia’s boyfriend’s name or anything, so maybe she didn’t know Kes and Olivia dated?
Isa asks her mom whether she thought she and her dad would be together forever, and then when she change her mind. Isa’s mom says that sometimes things go differently from how you expected. I really like this scene. It goes in with Isa “just knowing” that you’re meant to be with someone, as mentioned in episode 2, and then this reality that crashes in on you. It’s awesome that they tied in these elements of Isa’s absent father and divorced/separated parents, Isa’s relationship with her mom who’s locked out of certain elements in her life, and Isa’s relationship with Kes to the overall idea of being with someone forever. I think Isa questioning the nature and longevity of love could end up being a really satisfying part of her arc. I can’t wait to see the final clip of the season; I hope they modify her speech to Kes so that it fits with all these moments and what she’s learned.
She gets back into bed and apologizes to Kes for being a bitch sometimes, because obviously she doesn’t want their relationship to end, and then stares at the ceiling with that one damn glow in the dark shooting star.
Clip 4 - Doctor visit
The girls go to the doctor with Engel. Liv and Imaan entertain themselves by playing with a model of a torso. Kes and Isa make up via text, he says he loves her even when she’s angry.
I love that Engel looks small in that big chair against the giant window, truly mimicking how overwhelmed she must be feeling.
Where’s Janna? I have to say that I look forward to her reactions on anything vagina-related.
I guess she had to miss the fun because she had to make up for being late to German, but it’s really cool how Imaan volunteered to join them considering I think the Sanas usually sit this excursion out.
The doctor comes out and IT’S A MAN THIS TIME??? Oh fuck!
I mean I know plenty of women don’t have a problem with a male OB-GYN, but for a girl who’s perhaps afraid to get a bikini wax, I think she would be a little shy about talking about birth control with a dude.
This doc is handsome, not gonna lie. I can’t imagine if that would make it more or less awkward. I do think that it’s less awkward with your friends, so good call, Engel.
The doc is asking Engel some basic questions and Engel answers more confidently than I expected, so good for her. Imaan rats out Engel by saying she’s only known the guy for a week. Well, maybe it’s not the wisest choice, Imaan, but that means Engel should definitely be on birth control!
Liv also shares that Noah sleeps with the whole school, and the doc mentions that the pill only helps with pregnancy, not STDs. Bless him. I mean he’s just doing his job, but bless. This is a good message to include on the show.
OH MY GOD when that doc brought out the dildo for the condom demonstration. He was completely matter-of-fact and professional but geeeeez I would have found this to be the most embarrassing thing at 16.
Clip 5 - CONDOMS, ENGEL, CONDOMS CONDOMS CONDOMS
The girls evaluate condom choices. Strawberry, banana, glow-in-the-dark. Don’t get the banana ones. I love real bananas but artificial banana flavor on anything is a gamble.
I can’t tell, who said that king-sized wasn’t for Noah? Janna? I want to give her an award.
This clip was so short but I loved it! Just sweet and funny, wonderful girl squad dynamic, adorable.
As an aside, please watch the first 30 seconds of this scene and imagine it with Engel as Rose, Janna as Blanche, and Imaan as Dorothy.
Clip 6 - Engel’s softcore fashion fantasy
Janna has the right idea by blowing up a condom into an elephant trunk.
Janna doesn’t remember anything from her first time. That bit never stops being alarming, tbh.
Janna is also adamant that Noah needs to do his best and make sure Engel has an orgasm. Good job, Janna! That’s something I’ve always wondered with the Williams of the show: do they actually try to make the experience pleasurable for the Vildes? Because Vilde is like, “It was great!” but she’s also speaking from inexperience, and she might just be overcompensating, who knows? I mean, I don’t think she would actually tell the girls if it sucked.
Engel doesn’t know what an orgasm feels like, she doesn’t know how to get wet, she doesn’t want to get horny. Look, everyone should learn at their own pace, but my professional opinion is that this poor girl should take some time on her own before sleeping with a random dude she has known for a week.
Who hasn’t even arrived on time to get laid. Oh God, please just blow her off completely? Don’t make us and Engel go through this again. Lesser of two evils.
Janna eats a banana. I just wanted to write that.
Liv is there to administer horny-making fantasies to Engel. Lmao, Isa had to get up off her chair and go sit on the bed next to Liv while Liv is talking dirty. I wonder why….
Ohhhh my God. This fantasy of Engel’s? WOW. It is really not “allowed” within the Skam format but honestly, fuck it, this is too weird not to appreciate. This is some ’90s music video realness, I expected 98 Degrees to walk out. Except it mostly focuses on Engel’s attire and makeup and hair, so maybe it’s more like a perfume ad?
Lmao, Engel getting turned on by herself more than Noah really stands out when you see the visual.
Janna tells the anecdote about getting turned on by donkeys, but it was supposedly just a whole other village that had the donkey kink rather than her. Bless her.
The girls need to get out because Kes is supposed to arrive, but of course, when Isa opens the front door, it’s Noah, come for his booty call. Isa’s mom is really cute in how she’s excited to see “Kes.”
Engel is? “Not my girlfriend.” Noah, you dumb fuck. Why do you need to clarify that shit to someone’s mom who you’re only going to know for like two seconds?
I mean, it’s foreshadowing as to Noah’s fuckboy ways, and that Engel will get her heart broken, but duuuuude quell your ass down.
Isa is like, nah mom, those girls tripping on the stairs and babbling weren’t drunk! Lol, sure.
When Isa calls Kes, it absolutely sounds like he was at a party with the level of background chatter. You hear Olivia’s voice clearly but they’re definitely surrounded by people.
Of course Kes is not coming, and Isa’s mom overhears enough on the phone conversation to realize. She tells her that they can eat, just the two of them. I really like Isa’s mom, she’s cute.
Great sad closing song.
General Comments/Social Media
Engel stuck Liv’s own song on their Tallinn playlist and Liv’s like, time to delete that!
I love Janna naming the group chat weird stuff, and everyone acknowledging that group chat names are never normal.
This remake makes my heart so warm! The girl squad is so lovely and fun. I adored the pubic hair side plot, lmao, and the twists on the doctor visit and the condom retrieval. Little moments like that with the girls have made the dynamic so entertaining.
As for the boys, I think Lucas is a fantastic Isak. Kes has his typical Jonas S1 dickhead moments, but he’s also got charm, and God help me but I am enjoying Noah’s whatever-the-fuck-ness. Like I’m aware he’s going to be a creep, but currently I like taking the piss out of him and his wardrobe and attitude.
As I mentioned previously, I think they’re doing some great moments with Isa’s character arc and tying in her family issues to her relationship issues, and having her talk about love or question love in the abstract.
I am not Dutch, so feel free to correct me if I missed anything.
If you got this far, thank you for reading!
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I’m hungry (like the wolf) - Mitchsen
Ha! I'm a useless bitch so I wrote a cute smutty Mitchsen thing. I swear idk what I'm doing, but I'm sure I'll never meet God.
Feel free to give me feedback since it's my first attempt at writing smut in English. Send prompts my way if you want to.
Summary: Aubrey misses the alone times she used to get with Beca before they became parents.
Wordcount:1354
Read it on Ao3
When was the last time she got to be so lucky? Just getting back home and relax on the couch with a lit glass of red wine right after kicking her heels off. Oh Lord, how did she missed the soft, quiet place her home used to be. The long nights she spent with Beca -her now wife, just chilling around in both states, fully dressed or just in panties and shirts (topples if the situation merited).
Looking at the brunette standing in her bath suit, she felt the sudden increase in the temperature. Her eyes were glued to the female body just a few feet apart. The contrast between the military green and the pale skin was something she wanted to be tattooed on her eyelids. Forever.
And hat fucking smirk of hers? Yeah… that was enough to send her straight to Hell. Ticket to paradise without return. And God better blesses her for she had sinned if she wanted to redeem herself -not that she was complaining about spending an eternity in the Underworld. She could even play darts with Lilith while talking about the sweet life she got to have.
But reality kicked her on the gut, Literally, as a damn ball collided against her stomach.
“Sorry, mom” the young boy called as he came running to pick his weapon of choice.
“Be careful next time” she managed to say as she rubbed her belly. “Your brother is playing too” she then directed her gaze to the almost-two-years-old gremlin that decided to get her wife's attention for what seemed like a century now. Not that she was jealous, no. Beca was Ryan's momma and she enjoyed the time she managed to get to spend with her family. She could even make a pact with Lucifer just for them to stick together forever.
The way Beca bend over as she literally winked at her sent her back to her, not so PG mind. She was pretty sure she'd combust if she didn't find something to busy herself with.
Repeating the mantra she got to -necessarily- create time ago was on repeat as she tried the pool in order to chill her warming body. A decision she regretted when, after a few more moments of her younger boy playing with her momma, Beca set him to play with Evan and made her way meeting her in the middle.
The brunette's arms wrapped around her waist and the tickle she felt between her scalps made her moan. Tilting her head to the side in an unconscious motion, she felt her body tremble at the warm tongue tracing a line on her neck “Beca… the kids” she managed to speak between heavy breaths.
“I texted Chloe earlier. She'll come pick them up soon” she explained kissing her ear. “Emma wants a pajama party with all her friends” she then bit her earlobe sending her to a spiraling free fall.
She really fought to maintain her strength. But Beca's hand running freely through her stomach being directed to her Southside made her feel ashamed of herself at the way she moaned. For fuck’s sake, she was a mother of two and said kids were playing literally a few feet apart. Escaping the tempting arms, her green eyes met navy blues in a battle that will soon be released.
“You're unbelievable, Mitchell” she shook her head in an attempt to cover the shivers that just Beca’s smirk could provoke.
She knew she was damned to a life of sin as soon as she set eyes on the mysterious alt-girl time ago. The enigma that was Beca Mitchell was still unsolved. After more than a decade together, she still found herself amazed by the power the music producer hold on her.
Just that fucking smirk and that unique glaze was all the information she needed to prepare herself. The battlefield would be a rough place in just a few hours. She didn't doubt it. And oh boy, she definitely won't regret the scars.
__________
After what seemed like the longest three hours of her life, she finally got to put her hands on Beca without the fear of being in the spotlight. The fact that Beca kept messing with her sanity as she tried to cook them dinner, almost made her throw the knife and assault the brunette's lips. But of course, her stomach decided to host an F1 race right then.
“Why can't we eat actual food after we eat each other?” Because asked resigned as she jumped on the countertop and started to munch on a baby carrot.
“Because we both know that once we get in bed, we won't come out till the kids are back” she took the vegetable on Beca's hand and popped it in her mouth.
And God was she right. As soon as Beca picked her up, she let herself get lost in the forest to go play with the wolf.
Her legs wrapped around Beca's waist and her lips met in a life-or-death battle. Both pairs of hands rummaged without shame through each other's bodies. Moans and heavy sighs were the only noises that filled the empty house.
Tracing random patrons on Beca's back, she untied her bikini top as soon as her fingers found their knot discarding the cloth to the floor. Her hand soon found Beca's left breast and she squeezed it making her wife moan deeply. A sound that would always be music to her ears.
“Come on” she sighed as Beca pinched her ass. “Let's remix this business” Beca's skeptical face made her proud. It wasn't all the time that she got to shook her.
“Did you just… omg” Beca cut herself mid-sentence and smashed their lips together before practically dragging her to their room.
The mutual hungriness for each other's bodies was reaching critical limits and Aubrey wasn't sure she could last much more. Not as Beca bit her pulse just to follow it with her tongue and the cold blow that made her see the whole Milky Way.
How was possible that she could be so close without even being touched there was a question she'll never find an answer to. No matter how hard she tried to- Her mind melted right then as Beca found her way to her wet pussy. The sound that escaped the brunette's throat combined with the sweet motion of her slender fingers through her folds made her arch her back in anticipation. She was definitely getting oh, so close.
“Baby… please” she begged as her nails abandoned Beca's back and settled on the sheet beneath her. The feeling of Beca's warm mouth on her breast alerted all her senses.
“Tell me what you need” Beca's voice was tinted with something she couldn't pinpoint what was.
“Plea- Ahh… please, let me come” she felt the lower abdomen starting to tense as Beca started to thrust her hard. Her climax reaching the top and oh was she so ready to free fall… “What the fuck?” she snapped as Beca stopped her movements and locked their eyes
“Say the magic words, sweetie” Beca shrugged as if she was just about to explode due to unfinished business.
“Are you kidding me right now, Beca? You're an-”
“I promise it'll be good” the brunette rubbed her nose against her jaw to finally kiss her deeply.
“Please, Beca. Fuck me already” she said with the little energy she had left. Her mind was too screwed to even try and remember the fucking words.
“You'll owe me big next time” Beca returned to her task as her mouth whispered in her ear “you have no idea”
And fuck was that everything she needed to reach the glorious orgasm she's been searching for the last few hours.
Her whole body succumbing to the aftershocks and her heart stopping at the sight of Beca licking her juices off her fingers. Sweet shit was she ready for round two.
And so they did. Both lovers taking advantage of the time they got for themselves knowing well that it will be a long time till the next kids-free weekend.
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