#I have to agree with Pavel

[wikiblair]

He is talking so nice after the match. He exudes humility and also is such a pretty boy..

Pavel Francouz about Lukáš Dostál after winning the semi-final match against Sweden :D.

[dadsbongos]

The Lovers

word count - 4.8 k

warnings - ENEMIES to lovers..., non-graphic deaths and violence, i humanize and objectify pav in the same breath, fem reader (referred to by "girl" bc he's the worst)

first time capitalizing a fic title in months

DAY 2. NOON.

Blood splotches decorate the cobblestone floor, already drying into maroon against the wood planks of the train cars. The droplets lighten in shade the deeper into the train you go, and eventually, you find crimson. Pure cherry ink on dark wood. Cherry rots into a blackened smudge once again on the wheel of Olivia’s wheelchair. One hand settled over the thin black rim on her right, and the other twisting a roll of bandages around her fingers. She blinks up at you, bottom lip tucked so tight between her teeth that the rosy flesh is blistering white.

“I’m really sorry,” she sighs, abandoning the spool of cloth in her lap to push up her wiry glasses, “Terribly, I am, but I don’t- “ she pauses, “I’m worried that the others would be… biased in their care…”

Your gaze flits up from Olivia’s pensive face to the blonde man spread across the train’s cushy two-seater. His midsection is wrapped with reddish blooms vining all down the white crossings, arm bound in a sling over his chest. His eyes are scrunched up, brows furrowed towards the middle of his forehead; a fitful, delirious limbo overtaking him. Occasionally, he jerks himself awake in a wide-eyed panic before the pain knocks his brain topside again.

The Bremen lieutenant would hardly be a challenge to put down in his current state. You are one of few from the contestants that Olivia feels can be trusted not to undo her hard work of keeping the soldier alive. Combine your level-headedness with your lackadaisical attitude in searching Prehevil, and you make the perfect candidate to watch over Olivia’s patient.

Unfortunately.

“If he annoys me, can I press on his wounds?”

A wild grimace overtakes Olivia’s face, “No! No, please, please do not do that.”

“Fine,” you waltz past Olivia and study the blonde’s pinched face, “Go, go. I’ll watch the traitor.”

“Thank you!” she sighs in relief before exiting the train car, calling back hurriedly, “I’ll try to come with more bandages before sundown!”

When the lieutenant is not trapped under the rolling, ruthless waves of agony, you could almost mistake him for any other man. Maybe even a handsome one: with a strong nose and symmetrical bone structure. His lips are faintly the color of roses, too. Pale and pink. Dry, though. Not nearly as luscious as pretty petals.

Golden tresses, which you are mature enough to admit are alluring. His hat was off and his hair ruffled and fanning out over the magenta seat. Skin frail and pale - you could crush his ribs if you tried. Charming in a way you’ve only known real men to be.

Certainly, though, as soon as the pig squeals - the illusion of perky flowers and honey will melt away. Scorched by the moon as the villagers outside.

Foolishly, you agree to sit around waiting for the swine to be well enough to squeal. A smarter woman would’ve put it down (especially when it's previously shown a taste for blood), but you like Olivia and her tender heart so you do no such thing.

DAY 2. NIGHT.

As thanks for not murdering Pavel as soon as she’d turned her back, Olivia brought you fresh water and dried meats from scavenged homes alongside the fresh bandages. She left again soon after swapping the bloodied cloth for fresh ones.

“Do tell me when he wakes up,” she grins up at you. As if apologetic for having you carry out a duty you’d already agreed to, “I’m sure this isn’t an easy ask. I’m sorry.”

“If I wanted to make you feel bad for asking, I wouldn’t have said yes,” you wave off the concern, “Don’t die out there, Olivia. I’d miss you too much to do my job,” you gesture vaguely towards the immobile lieutenant.

She chuckles quietly before nodding, “I’ll do my best.”

Pavel’s groans are increasing both in frequency and throatiness - he’ll wake soon, you’re sure of it. He even turns onto his side, exhaling thickly - so harsh and ragged he actually coughs up bubbles of spit. Jittering with alert, he gasps sharply and rockets upward. Snapping at his waist and swiping out wildly with his unbound arm, clawing at the musty air directly in front of him; even attempting to swing out the arm wrapped and tied around his neck.

As soon as the hair-splittingly thin burst of adrenaline fades, he hisses in pain. Cupping the covered gash in his chest before curling his uninjured arm around the other, he throws his head back and gasps again. Suffocating under the re-stretching of closing wounds and fragile muscle.

Despite his uniform, you find yourself at Pavel’s side. You brush a hand down the length of his spine before patting between his shoulder blades, your other hand soothing down his navel to press him down into the cushions. Swiping aside curls of gold, you shush his groaning and search the care bag Olivia left behind. In your palm comes a bind of tobacco and a pipe that is smooth and cold against your skin.

“Quiet, quiet,” you coo, stuffing the chamber of the pipe with the almost sickly sweet, nutty-scented tobacco before raising Pavel’s head and sitting the lip into his mouth.

His eyes are still wrinkled shut, chest beginning to sporadically pop and shrink in a struggle to suck wind through his throat.

Part of you wants to tug his hair and call him stupid, but a larger part of you is consumed with pity. Pity for a creature so entrapped with torment that he cannot remember the second most basic function of his body.

“Breathe through your nose,” you continue to run your fingers through his sweat-matted hair while striking a match against the train’s floorboards and lighting the tobacco, “Smoke slow. It will ease you.”

Pavel’s neck cranes upward and remains there, head pushing against your stroking hand as he (rather noisily) inhales through his nostrils. Then, he fills his lungs with the sting of tobacco, blowing it back out through the pursed corner of his mouth.

Once you’re confident Pavel can breathe and smoke without choking himself to death, you turn again to rattle through Olivia’s care bag for herbs. Anything to aid the physical pain before the distraction of tobacco wears off.

Eyes fluttering open, Pavel stares down at you as he lifts an arm to pull the pipe from his mouth - blowing smoke down into your face. You pinch the exposed skin of his side harshly, only letting go when he jerkily arches his back to escape your cruel fingers.

“Unbelievable,” you shake your head, “No. A Bremen pig would, of course, disrespect someone trying to heal them.”

“If you wanted me dead, I already would be.”

“I still have time.”

You unplug a glass vial the shade of elderberries and press it to Pavel’s closed lips. When he stubbornly fastens his lips tighter, you glare directly into his eyes.

“Open. Or it’s being poured over your neck.”

Pavel groans in protest, but finally opens his mouth and allows you to dump the blue liquid into his throat. He gags at the bitterness of raw, untempered pressed herbs, almost gagging until he realizes you have no intention of stopping your pour. So he chooses to swallow down the vial as quickly as it comes instead of drowning to a mere glass of blue.

When you’re tucking the emptied glass away, Pavel replaces the pipe and huffs down at you, “You’re not a very courteous nurse.”

Instead of dignifying the jab with a response, you sit up fully on your knees to scour over the lieutenant below. From his tousled hair to his bloodied and wretched uniform to his muddied boots.

You reach up and contemplate digging a thumb somewhere in the center of his bandages before thinking better of it and snatching the pipe from his lips, “You should put away your breasts.”

Inhaling the smoke, you blow it down in Pavel’s annoyed face and grin when he coughs.

He glares up at you somehow harsher than before, “I could shoot you for that. I should shoot you for that.”

“Then who would protect you from all the other people that want you dead?”

Silently, he mulls over the question. If he reaches some sort of logical conclusion, he refuses to share. Most likely, though, you’re assuming he has no such answer. Aside from you, there is Olivia, but even she could not be swayed into staying on this train longer than necessary. It could drive one mad, bound inside this narrow tube of car after car after car with the same seats and floorboards and rolling rug. So she very politely requested you to stay behind instead.

You sit down on the hard floor below you, pulling your knees to your chest and winding both arms around your legs. Pavel turns his head to the side, lips in a pout. Drinking the blue liquid earlier has revived them, at least somewhat, they are even pinker. More full. Smoother. When you’ve had enough staring there, you stare at his eyes: so gray they shine like gun metal in the flitting moonlight.

Maybe Pavel would notice you examining him if he could tear his own eyes away from where they’re lingering by the sliver of exposed skin by your ankle. Classic: boarish pig lives up to his name. His gaze crawls up your shin to your bent knees, then a little lower as if to catch a glimpse of where your thighs and rear are squished against your chest and the floor (respectively). At least you have the decency to not objectify him during your observation - not that you even could. The lieutenant is leagues more off-putting than handsome.

Once he’s gathered the guts to bore his steely gaze into your face, he grins with a half-hearted shrug, “I haven’t seen a beautiful woman not kissing the piss lord’s ass in ages.”

You ignore the pass completely, “So, the temple square?”

Pavel sighs and extends a hand, palm up and fingers splayed wide in front of your face, “A failure.”

“You don’t say,” you bypass his hand and feed the lip of the pipe directly into his mouth, pressing it against his tongue and watching him firmly tuck it between his lips before letting go, “Why try?”

Puffing from the pipe, Pavel only shakes his head while exhaling thick plumes of slate-hued smoke. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and cradles the pipe in his hand, turning it delicately to inspect the body, “Why not?”

You make a show of looking from his face to his bandaged torso before snickering, “Serious question?”

Pavel takes one final draw of the pipe before balancing it atop the wooden frame of the seat. He lays his uninjured hand gently over his torso, blinking up at the ceiling with tired, wet eyes.

“You are cruel, you know this?”

“It’s a good defense,” you grin at the man innocently, “Especially against brutalist pigwhores.”

“Targeted,” again, he pouts, “Mean. You are a mean girl.”

“Maybe that’s what you need. I think Mama was too nice to you.”

Pavel withholds the wince at your words, merely pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth and inhaling through his nose sharply. He shrugs when he really wants to bite, “You think so?”

Hopefully, he muses, he can rip out your throat when he finally snaps back.

“I do.”

“You know what I think?” you merely fold your arms, so he continues, “Nobody put the spoiled girl in her place. Now she’s a confident woman full of hot air,” he smiles, “I don’t do well with confident women like that. Make me jumpy.”

You ‘hmph’, but respond with nothing new before rising from the floor and snatching the care bag to squeeze against your chest like a child would their stuffed bear. Laying across the unoccupied, opposite seat, you turn so that you're faced away from the lieutenant.

Pavel stares at your back. He hadn’t been entirely teasing earlier - he truly hadn’t found a woman beautiful in a long while. Not that it was a problem to admit a girl was pretty, but there was always some dull ache to accompany the thought. Women riveted by his status in the Bremen army disgusted him, and women disgusted by him and his status were usually unwilling to bend to his charms. Even then, if he met a woman who was nurturing and sweet, undeterred by his enlistment, he was consumed with revenge.

Now that he’s officially gone and tried and horrendously failed, he can at least swim in the delusion that there is a chance for romance. Besides, he is in his thirties, that’s about the time when people begin settling down, right?

He reaches up for the pipe but finds that it’s gone out. No more vermillion embers to offer comfort.

“Oi,” he calls into the night. Not even crickets sing back. He shifts as if to sit up, but his entire waist flares with pain and sends him crashing back into the velvet cushions. So, he settles on raising his voice, “Hey!”

“Sleep, pig.”

“Pav.”

“Hm?”

“My name. My name is Pav,” he considers throwing the pipe at you altogether, but if the gold-encrusted bowl actually hits your skull then you’d likely leave and never return, “Call me by it.”

“Why should I?” you twist, scowling over your shoulder, “You signed up for the Bremen army, now take what comes with that in Prehevil.”

“You don’t strike me as a dull girl,” he grumbles, “So don’t pretend to be one.”

Suddenly, you’re sitting up again, the bag still clenched between both of your arms, “Do you know what the Bremen army has done to people? Has done to me?” you spit on the floor, right below where Pav rests, “Pigs! Horrible, wretched, rotten pigs!”

Pavel allows you to scream, allows you to finish, before returning, “Do you know what the Bremen army has done to me?”

He’s so quiet, he’s downright whispering. Voice husky and layered with years of buried terror and bloodlust.

“How should I care? You enlisted! Whatever they made you- !”

Now he cuts you off.

“They razed my home during the First Great War,” that once blinding sheen in gunmetal eyes is dark like obsidian, “My family. My mama,” he mocks you, “Dead. I joined to kill the Kaiser, I never wanted to be a Bremen pig. I never asked for this.”

“You came to kill the Kaiser as a lieutenant?”

“I did.”

“You must’ve known…” you swallow your words. A lieutenant to kill the commander? Even without the Kaiser’s other soldiers, Pavel wouldn’t possibly have been able to do that and get away with it. Not unless he wanted to hide out in Prehevil for the rest of his days.

“At least I will never die knowing I didn’t try,” he cackles sickly, “Great leader Kaiser spat the bullet out like it was nothing… Maybe he is some God sent back to torture us.”

“Maybe you missed,” you slump forward, elbows digging into your knees, “Couldn’t that be more likely?”

“No,” he looks at you with widened eyes, “No, no,” he shakes his head, “I don’t miss my shots.”

“If you’re sure,” you smile suddenly, shaking loose the stiffness in Pavel’s shoulders, “When you’re healed, we can try again, hm?”

“Really?” he’s shocked by the madness of your suggestion, “Did you miss the part where I said he took a bullet to the head and walked it off?”

“Apparently, we’ll die here anyway,” you shrug, yawning and fluttering back down onto the seat, “So, why not try again, Pav?”

A girl that nurtures despite his bloody uniform, and now despite his terrible need for revenge. You are as cruel as you are doting. Fiery and unfair and oh, he thinks he wants you to card your fingers in his hair again. Gentle only to him.

“As long as you don’t abandon me once you see for yourself,” Pavel can feel less burning in his chest when he breathes now, “Spat the bullet right out, I tell you.”

You shrug, “I guess I’ll die one way or another here.”

Pavel shakes his head, not bothering to tilt his head away from you as he drifts off.

…

DAY 3. MORNING.

He awakes to a great pressure around his throat. Snapping into consciousness, he finds you standing over him with shaking arms, and when he’s brave enough to follow the branches to where they’re stemmed - your hands are around his neck. Your breathing is shaky, and there’s wetness reflecting off your cheeks. Pavel claws at your wrists with his hand, twisting his body so his bottom half is hanging off the seat. Ignoring the scorching rage that sears over the fresh gash in his stomach, Pavel kicks out at you. His heeled boots dig into your gut, squishing intestines and fat and blood as he pushes you away.

Loudly, his boots thunk back against the floorboard when you’ve fallen away, throwing yourself dramatically across the opposite seat. Like a sick Europian lady from the Gilded Age, you drape over the frame with sniveling wails.

Pavel skims his fingers over where your own were clamping his throat shut as he shudders for breath. Ignoring your sobs, he shouts, “Did you hit your head or what?! Heal me, talk to me, just to end my life?! Are you- ?!”

“Enough!” you scream, voice snapping raw in the middle, completely fizzled out at the end. Wiping at the ceaseless tears gushing over your face, you scream again, “She should’ve gotten out of here! She should’ve gotten out and ran instead of… Instead of…” you cough out phlegm and despair trapped in your throat, “Instead of…”

Marina’s downcast face, moles decorating her frown as she twisted a cracked pair of Windsor glasses between her hands. She could barely look at you when she said it before handing over the glasses. I’m sorry, Marina whispered, Olivia… I just thought, maybe, you should know…

Pavel remains as he is, lumped against the back of the seat with both legs dangling onto the floor. Dried blood scraped up under his heels. He heaves for breath, watching as you cradle yourself in your arms and rock. You wither before him, babbling and wheezing and shrouded in shadow.

“What are you going on about?”

“Be quiet,” you snap, louring through puffy, red eyes and wobbly lips, “Be mournful. The woman that saved your life has died,” before Pavel can squeeze anything out from his gaping mouth, you stand and point down at him to command again, “Be nice. The war is over, and you’re not even a real lieutenant, you can show kindness when a person has died.”

He shuts his mouth. Opens it again. Shuts it. Then, finally,

“I didn’t know her.”

From the way you cross your arms and turn away, he can gather that that was the wrong thing to say.

“And yet she saved you,” your arms tighten around yourself, “She saved you, Pav… Be nice.”

You’re a sweet thing, Pavel thinks. You clearly hate him for not displaying the tenderness that you are around the woman’s death. At least at this moment, you hate him.

“I’m taking a walk,” you announce, flinging open the cabin door and slamming it behind you.

Pavel contemplates calling after you, but figures the sound of his voice could only make you stay away longer.

You’re a cruel, sweet thing.

Not even leaving the care bag closer for him to reach in and take from.

DAY 3. NOON.

When you return, the train car is silent sans the gentle hum of Pavel’s breathing. Almost reminiscent of clockwork, a well-oiled machine, his broad chest rises and falls smoothly as he’s rearranged himself sideways on the seat. With his slung arm over his chest and spare one tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow.

Having Pavel stretched out before you gives ample time for you to more thoroughly judge his physique - if you’d be able to strangle him while he’s awake. If he could fight back. If he could lift you with his pure muscle and restrain you with a single hand while the other…

Maybe, you think.

His arms are large, but not obnoxiously terrifying like the boxer. His waist is slim despite the broadness of his shoulders and chest.

Suddenly, he groans, nose twitching in his slumber. It draws your gaze up to his face. That unsettlingly symmetrical face with the strong nose bridge and soft, rosy lips.

Not to mention his flaxen hair - curled and tousled and forcefully in your sights with that Bremen hat off. And with his Bremen uniform (seemingly always) unbuttoned to his stomach, you make out his pectorals past his bandages. You make out two indentations over his heart: silvery scars.

He could almost be handsome. If he were more emotionally attuned.

You kneel by his side, swinging the care bag across the aisle and into your lap. His bleeding has visibly lessened, as only the lightest shade of pink has spread over the pale cloth. Sneaking scissors up by his soft skin, you avoid slicing him as you snip the bandages and begin unwinding them. Pulling gently so as to avoid waking the man, you successfully clear him from the restrictive cloth and assess his healing wound.

More coral pink than crimson red, now. You assume the mass improvement is thanks to the blue vial Olivia had provided. Even as the gnarly cut expands under Pavel’s breathing, it fails to start bleeding again. Which you’re grateful for since, as a precarious glance into the bag confirms, you have freshly run out of bandages. And you fear that snagging any old cloth from any old barrel could give Pavel an infection.

“What was it Alll-mer said? Pluck out your eyes if you cannot respect modesty?”

“I’m checking your wound,” you pinch his side. The skin is warm and fleshy and so, so soft between your fingertips. He whimpers and tries to evade your hand by squirming higher on the seat, “When did you wake up?”

“Not long ago,” he watches you reach into the bag and pull free another glass vial of blue liquid, “Only to see you ogling my body.”

“It’s a hideous one. Hard to look away.”

“You love to lie, mean girl?” he ‘tsk’s, “Shame. Lies are so ugly from a pretty mouth.”

“As if you would know.”

“Confident woman,” he sings to himself, grinning, “Confident, confident woman.”

Shoving the blue vial towards Pavel’s face, you square your shoulders and settle your face sternly, “Drink.”

“I liked it when you did it for me,” he opens his mouth then, refusing to break eye contact.

You comply, shifting onto your knees and pressing the chilled glass against Pavel’s lower lip; tipping it to flow into his warm mouth. He gulps down what you graciously offer, bringing his uninjured arm out from under his head and settling it over your hand around the vial. His thumb presses against your knuckles. You tangle your other hand into his hair and let the golden curls thread over your fingers. Once the vial is finished, you can’t explain it but there’s a sudden thundering in your chest. So vivid and hard in your ribs that it makes you nauseous.

Pavel blinks, lashes fluttering at you as his hand remains over yours.

Sunshine slants across his face. You see him more clearly now than this morning or last night or when he was wrought and warped with pain.

He looks pretty like this. Foul-mouthed and promiscuous and even forthright rude, but undoubtedly pretty.

His hand moves to your cheek, tenderly cupping the flesh with glass still pressed to his lips.

The thunder comes with lightning that strikes blazing fire. Heat fans through your chest and up to your forehead.

“If you want to go after the Kaiser, you should rest,” you whisper, as if speaking any louder could shatter the both of you from this moment, “We both should. Best to gather our strength before searching for him.”

Pavel shakes his head, obsessively smoothing the pad of his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “He will gut us both, cruel girl. I don’t want to see that for you. If I find him it’s alone,” he swallows thickly, “And I’m tired.”

“So,” you realize with a startled tremble that your internal combustion is affection for the former lieutenant, “you’ll stay?”

And with greater terror, you realize that you actually want to stay with him.

“I will die knowing I failed,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pressing his lips firmly before granting you sight of the rosy flesh again, “but I will have you to die with, cruel girl.”

At least even in humiliating defeat, Pavel can be loved.

“Are you scared to die, Pav?”

You’re a sweet one, he fondly recalls. Assuming he had much to live for outside his schlocky revenge scheme.

“Projecting, hm?”

You pinch his side. He lets you.

DAY 3. NIGHT.

“Now, bend it.”

Pavel hisses but manages to fully extend and curl his newly unwound arm with nothing more than a click in his elbow. He lays both hands in his lap as you bunch the bandages and sling into a ball and lay it off to the side.

“Good,” you utter softly, “You’ve healed a lot faster than I would’ve thought.”

“Right?” Pavel turns his head to stare down at you, tilting his head back, “You should sit with me.”

“You’re feeling charitable,” he scoffs at your tease, not moving to accommodate his invite, “Where should I even sit, then? You’re taking the entire seat.”

When he merely smirks, you get the idea.

“You’re gross.”

“Indulge me, cruel girl,” you rise to your feet, gnawing your bottom lip in contemplation, Pavel leans against the armrest and cinches his legs together, “Would you make a man die alone?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

But would you make Pavel die alone?

You swing a leg over his torso, careful to avoid the healing slash and straddle Pavel’s waist with both hands landing over his exposed chest. He cups your cheek again, now taking pleasure (and slight pain) in cradling your face with both hands. He hasn’t gotten to see a beautiful woman in ages, and he thinks maybe it isn’t so bad to go out staring at one.

Moonlight cascades over the both of you, so bright in the train cabin it almost burns.

“If we could still run, where would you go?” you ask.

“Where would you want me?”

“Flirt,” you’re leaning in, though, trailing a finger over his scarred chest. Your nails bite at the flesh, he grunts in disapproval, “How can I believe anything you say? You betrayed your leader. Would you shoot me, too?”

Pavel is sure you’re anything but serious in asking, but it's dangerous the way he feels compelled to answer genuinely, “Never. I’d miss your… What was it? Brutalism?”

“Enough,” the moonlight sears over where Pavel’s hands are curved around your cheeks. You lean down more until your lips brush his, “You call me rude, but you’re- “

He slices your derision short, pressing his petal soft lips against yours with a quiet, contented sigh.

Moonlight bares witness. And you cannot pull away even as the fire in your heart rages from affection to molten lava. You’re not even entirely sure you would want to.

…

Karin cannot feel her fingers as she stands in the open train car door. She’s seen many things - many terrible, awful things. Especially so in the past seventy-two hours than her entire career as a war journalist, but this may be what truly drives her mad. She can feel it - the need to retreat inside her mind and shut down completely; the need to give up hope of salvation. Maybe she can suppress it long enough to sit by that seashore, get a good view to wash out the image before her.

Wriggling on the train loveseat is a fleshy creature, almost like mushed peaches. Occasionally, pleased sighs and hums will escape one of its two smiling faces as the lumps slide and shift along the cushion. One face nuzzles closer to the other and the measly bread and meat Karin swiped from deserted kitchens lurches in her stomach.

None of the other monsters she’d encountered had been so undeniable in its previous humanity. It reminds her of the holed, broken, pliant corpses of uniformed soldiers dead in trenches, and it reminds her of the first time she ever saw a real dead body. She puked on its boot, unable to run back and spew bile elsewhere before it was spurting past her lips.

Karin’s stomach is stronger now, though. She has the time to turn and trudge on wobbly knees towards the seaside before she pukes - squirming flesh and smoldered limbs tangling in her mind.

Moonlight burns at the back of her neck as The Lovers moan and coo happily behind her.

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

Fuck, Marry ,Kill. A game that the Justice League, Outlaws and some of the original Titans will never play again - Part 1

Masterlist of fics

Part 2

Summary: Almost the entire hero community know each other's identities. The only group that remains a mystery are the bats. Most know that they're based out of Gotham and they're a team. That's about it - Clark wants the team to play a game for a team bonding exercise, Hal choses FMK, and Batman hates everything.

Clark had been insisting that they needed to do some ‘team bonding’. A waste of time if you asked Bruce, but of course, no one asked him. The founding members of the team sat around the table. No one had a mask on except for Batman, who still hadn’t revealed his identity to anyone.

“So I was thinking, we could do a game or something. You know, one of those where we go around, answering questions or something like that,” Clark sat at the head of the table, smiling at everyone. The grin on Hal’s face could mean nothing good as he leaned against the table, “Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

"Excuse me?” Clark frowned, looking confused. Snorting, Oliver said, “What? Are we in middle school?” ”Come on, it’ll be fun.” Barry seems to agree with Hal, wanting to play the game. “I do not understand, what is the premise of this game?” J’onn asked. “So someone will say three names, and everyone will go around the room, saying which of the three people they’d fuck, who they’d marry, and who they’d kill.” “But what if I do not want to kill anyone?” ”Don’t worry J’onn, you don’t have to do anything with the people, it’s fake, just a fun game.”

To Bruce’s horror, everyone seemed to agree to play the game. Pushing against the table he stood up. He will not sit through this. “Batman, this is mandatory for the team,” Clark stopped him. Bruce reminded himself that they were allies. His children wanted him to make friends with the Justice League members. They seemed to think he had no friends. He grunted as he sat back down.

“So we do this with random people?” Diana questioned, seeming into the idea of the game. “Yeah, but I think we should do famous people,” Hal looked very pleased with himself. “Ok, first let’s start off easy. Chris Evans, Jennifer Lawrence and Idris Elba.” ”Oh fuck Idris Elba. Without a doubt.” Dinah said quickly, no hesitation in her voice. “Then marry Chris Evans and I guess I’d have to kill Jennifer Lawrence.” “Gonna have to agree with you on that one, pretty bird,” Oliver nodded his head, a light smile on his face. Clark seemed to really be thinking about it, “If I’d have to, I guess I’d have sex with Chris Evans, marry Idris Elba, and yeah, kill Jennifer Lawrence. So sorry to her.”

“I’m not familiar with those people, could I see a photo of them?” Barry quickly pulled out his phone, searching up each person and showing Diana the photos. “I would fuck this Idris Elba, marry Jennifer Lawrence and kill Chris Evans.” Barry spoke next, “Yeah, I’m going to go with Dinah’s one. Fuck Idris Elba, marry Chris Evans and kill Jennifer Lawrence.” Hal still had that stupid grin on his face, “Fuck Jennifer Lawrence, marry Idris Elba and kill Chris Evans. What about you spooky? Who’d you fuck?” ”I am not playing this juvenile game. I will stay for the team bonding but do not expect me to partake.” Bruce knew way too many celebrities to join in on this game. He was friends with so many of them. So was Oliver, how could he do it?

Barry had a thought that instantly brought a smile to his face, “Ok, billionaire edition. Lex Luthor, Pavel Durov and Bruce Wayne. For me, I’d definitely marry Bruce Wayne. He is so fine and it can’t hurt to be with someone that rich. Kill Lex Luthor without a doubt and fuck Pavel I guess.” Could Bruce call Jason to come and shoot him? Maybe Oliver would stab him if he asked nicely. Diana nodded in agreement, “Bruce Wayne is an attractive man. I would marry him too, fuck this Pavel Durov and kill Luthor.” Maybe Bruce could break one of the windows and jump out. The emptiness of space would be better than this conversation.

“I have done a few interviews with Bruce, he is a good man. His looks are quite impressive and he is one of the richest men on the planet. He uses his money for good, I’d definitely marry him. Um, I do not know much about Pavel Durov, and definitely kill Lex.” Clark seems to have put thought into his answer. Bruce would rather be fighting all of his rogues simultaneously than being a part of this conversation. J’onn spoke, “Yes, I have heard of Bruce Wayne. He is quite an honourable man. I too would marry him, and kill Lex Luthor.” When Oliver started speaking, Bruce rolled his eyes behind his mask. “Brucie is a friend, we’ve known each other since we were kids. I don’t think he’s marriage material though, he has too many kids. I’d fuck him. Kill Luthor, marry the other guy.”

“Sorry babe,” Dinah put her arm on Oliver’s arm as she spoke, “but I would definitely marry Bruce Wayne. There’s just something about him, did you see that recent beach photoshoot? He’s really in shape. Obviously I’d kill Lex.” He could pull out a batarang and stab himself. That seems like a good option. Hal shot up in his seat, “Oh Bruce Wayne, the love of my life. That man is so hot. Marry him because that way we could fuck anytime we’d want to. Fuck Pavel Durov and obviously kill Luthor.”

Bruce cannot do this. Secret identity be dammed, he could not sit through this anymore. He pushed his seat back again which unfortunately attracted everyones attention. Hal once again speaking to him, asked, “I know you said you’re not playing but as a Gothamite, who’s saved Bruce Wayne many times, any comment about how attractive he really is?” Bruce looked right at Hal, staying in his seat. He reached up and slowly removed his cowl. Oliver let out a soft “Oh my gosh”, everyone stared in shock. Hal screamed.

Fuck, Marry ,Kill. A game that the Justice League, Outlaws and some of the original Titans will never play again.

This is an old-ish fic so ignore the errors and bad grammar. I promise I've improved. Not that this i bad (I still enjoy rereading it) but I can do better now.

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

[nickchamomile]

Well.. I want to talk about a little lore in the Habit family, namely about the three brothers.

Andrey Habit (fanon name) - Boris's father

Grigory Habit - The well-known fanon Uncle Boris

And Pavel Habit - another uncle of Boris, whom, unfortunately, he never saw, because he died in the w@r.

They are triplets, and were born on April 14, 1924. And despite the fact that they are triplets, they differ from each other both in height and in character (and in appearance, of course.) But at the same time, they are friendly and love each other, even if some are embarrassed to show it.

Pavel - A tall and sweet guy with a kind soul and a cheerful spirit, and despite every mess that usually happens to him with his brothers during their time, he is always ready to go with them through thick and thin. Pasha can be called a “mama’s boy,” and it’s true that before he passed away, he was his mother’s favorite, which he didn’t particularly like, because he wanted everyone to be loved equally. he is "ENFJ". Pavel is an understanding and friendly young man, albeit shy, but this did not even stop him from finding a girl before his brothers! The girl's name was Lyra, and there was tender love between them, without any quarrels or mistrust. As Lyra herself would say: “Unlike other men, Pasha knows how to love the soul.”

Grisha - or as everyone used to call him “Grigory”, unlike what he is like now as an adult, as a child - he was a very active child who gets bored, but you won’t get bored with him. In their village, he was like the “Thunderstorm of the area”, even at a more mature age, at about 16 years old, he still loved to play children and spend time with his brothers, although usually his martyr for his own entertainment was always Pavel, because Pavel was I agree to everything for the sake of my brothers. In addition, Grigory was always closer to Pasha, because he could open up to him and not be ashamed of himself and have fun with him, which was not the case with Andrey. Since I said that they have different characters, this was sometimes not beneficial for Grisha and Andrey. There were inconsistencies, misunderstandings, and sometimes even quarrels. And somewhere closer to that very Second World W@r, they became closer to each other. However, in adulthood Grisha was in no hurry to find a girlfriend. He believed that all the girls around him were not the ones he was looking for. And, as he said, “Fate itself will tell you which “the one” is... I will fall at her feet.” He said... and that’s how he met his “same one” a few years later, when he wanted to EPICALLY get out of the car, but got caught on the carpet in the car and fell, by the way, “Dolores” right at her feet. He is an ЕNTP, for him, probably, his family is just as important... as his own opinion.

And Andrey - Among the brothers, he is probably, as he believes, the most “correct”, “adult” and “serious”. Which is probably why he and Grisha had little quarrels. Andrei began to grow up and become more serious a little earlier, due to obsessive thoughts that “If I am an adult and serious, society will accept me.”, which is why he, of course, did not play much with his brothers. But despite this, he still goes where the brothers go. And despite his seemingly firmness, Andrei loves his brothers, even Grisha, he just doesn’t know how to express his feelings, like Pavel or Grisha. But mostly, Andrei makes comments to Grigory, thinking that he will probably always be childish. After Pasha’s death, Andrei became that “mama’s boy,” which he was not against. He is ISTJ. And despite its hardness, perhaps somewhere there, there is still love... probably.

Unfortunately, after Pavel's death, their family fell apart. The mother blamed the father for allegedly leading the children into such danger, because of which they lost one son, and even blamed Grigory, because he did not save his brother in time. Because of which, after this, the children were divided. Grigory grew up with his father, and Andrey with his mother.

And the date of Pavel’s death: June 24, 1944.

This is how the story went. Thanks for your opinion <:0)

[silversword7000]

☕️Bridge Crew Coffee Headcanons☕️

Author’s Note: I indicated TOS and AOS for Kirk because each version gives me wildly different vibes about coffee but the rest of them can be read as either TOS or AOS🥰

Kirk:

TOS Kirk would have coffee occasionally and only put a splash of cream in it.

He would absolutely have a special cup for coffee so it is more of a treat though!

AOS Kirk would put 20000000 sugars and creamers in his coffee and also he should NOT be allowed to have coffee ever because he will have 50 cups in a day if no one (Bones) stops him.

He would absolutely love coffee though and like TOS Kirk he would have a special cup but AOS Kirk would have a blinged out reusable to go cup✨

Spock:

Spock would NOT drink coffee. He hates the bitter taste of it and even if it was doctored up, he still wouldn’t like it.

Caffeine would not agree with his Vulcan half…

McCoy:

He has a caffeine addiction.

With all the bullcrap he has to deal with on a daily basis I do not blame him.

He also doesn’t have time to sleep often so…yeah.

He drinks his coffee black. The bitterness reminds him of how he feels when people (Jim) are constantly getting themselves hurt in idiotic ways.

The only time he ever drinks it any other way is when Uhura makes him latte art. Even though he prefers it black, he enjoys seeing how excited she gets about doing it.

If anyone tries interacting with him before he has his coffee, he will kill them. All of the other medical officers stay far away from him until he has his first cup.

Scotty:

You already know my man is not bothering with coffee unless it has alcohol in it.

Scotty is able to wake himself up pretty quickly. He just gets up and he’s ready to go! So, he’s never had the need to drink any coffee.

Frankly, he just doesn’t enjoy the taste of it.

Uhura:

Uhura would love to start her day by having a nice cup of coffee! It is part of her morning ritual. ☀️

She has a few mugs that she swaps out to have some variety, but her favorite is her pink Hello Kitty mug that her mother gifted to her. (Hello Kitty would stand the test of time, I make the rules and you know I’m right.)

She puts some half and half as well as a little sugar in her coffee most days, but sometimes she switches it up for funzies to varied results.

One day on shore leave, a friend of hers taught her how to do latte art and she has been OBSESSED with it since.

She has her own coffee machine and she brings it to the rec area some mornings to make latte art for other crew members! She loves making hearts and leaves the most!

Her favorite part is seeing others smile when she gives them their special coffee <3

Because she knows how much he needs it, sometimes she lets Bones use her coffee machine to get a fresh cup.

She likes to make him special latte art when she is on breaks because she loves seeing how it cheers him up!

Sulu:

Sulu only ever has coffee on special occasions.

It’s not something he needs every day so he only ever has one when he is on shore leave or vacation and it strikes his fancy.

He loves to try specialty coffees from different places to taste the regional differences.

Chekov:

Chekov LOVES coffee.

However, he is not allowed to have it after…the incident.

Scotty installed a special sensor on the replicators so that if he tries to make a coffee, it doesn’t work.

If Chekov does have coffee…oh boy, strap in. He is like a little kid with a sugar rush! Pavel will NOT be able to sit still to the point where it impedes his work and annoys everyone around him.

He is bouncing off the walls like nobody’s business!

The last time Pavel got his hands on some coffee while he was on duty, Sulu was assigned to wrangle him. It ended with Pavel tied to a chair and gagged.

So yeah the entire bridge crew knows NEVER to let him have any coffee anymore.

💫Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs and comments are adored <3💫

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Friday Ramblings

I don't normally do this but I have a couple of thoughts going on in my head regarding the last couple of days week in BL that I just wanted to collect them all instead of just doing it in tags.

Shadow

I'm pissed. I am a big fan of anything horror or supernatural themed stuff so I was really looking forward to this. (Don't even get me started of how disappointed I am at the disappearance of the other horror themed show I could be watching) And the first part did not disappoint. It was a strong first half, good set up of the different story lines and all the players and I was really excited about it. There was such good meta written about the show, and it turned out to be superior to what the show eventually gave us. (@wen-kexing-apologist specially gave us such excellent meta on this show that I wish they were in charge of the second half of this show) I agree with @lurkingshan about everything they said here. Something which I thought was interesting was that I think in this second half the show purposefully made the fake arm really obvious. I don't know if it wanted us to know before Dan but I also don't think it was an accident. But I'm also not gonna theorize about the reasons because I really don't care that much. The "BL" bait was just another thing that pissed me off. I'm not upset it's not BL, I'm upset because it was sold as such and no one will convince me otherwise. For a couple of episodes, at least, the show wanted us to think that Dan was falling for Nai. The prom moment was just fucking ridiculous. The parallels with October 6 could've been really interesting if there wasn't so much going on that it kinda took the weight of it away. One of the questions I like to ask myself when watching any media is - what is it trying to tell? Sometimes nothing and that's fine. It's pure escapism and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. It can still be excellent. And sometimes it tries to say too much that it ends up not having a cohesive message and it all falls flat. Religion, communism, family trauma, homophobia, mental health, infidelity, teacher-student relationship, pregnancy, murder, police brutality, friendship, bullying, the oh so many supernatural elements, I could go on. You get the picture. So in conclusion, I am not happy.

VIP Only

It's cute. I like both of them enough and it's a good mellow way to start the friday madness.

Last Twilight

This show is surprising me so much. In the best ways. As I said before this pair didn't do much for me in the past but I've surrendered completely, specially to Jimmy. He was so good in this episode that I felt obligated to gif it just so I could keep watching his expressions.

That whole final scene just floored me. His eyes just carried that moment and that whole scene so well that by the end a lonely sunflower brought tears to my eyes. ( and I do not cry easy). After all the cute dates, this scene was a gut punch.

I'm just really stuck on this show, and it holds my attention all through the episode.

My Dear Gangster Oppa

This episode was silly, I couldn't care less about the gangster side of the story at the moment, I'd rather spend more time with the gamer friend group. Wahl got a bit of a redemption but I still don't like him. I liked that Guy stood his ground with Wahl and Tew, but hated the stalker behaviour. If you wanna go dude, just leave!

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun

Japan my beloved. They just keep giving me all I need. Toki is giving me some Aoki vibes and I could not be happier. And Toki now has got two friends in his corner and I'm so happy. This one and Kinou Nani Tabeta are currently my main sources of joy and my heart is full.

Pit Babe I'd like to thank @pharawee for giving us the novel commentary because it makes it a bit less confusing while I watch this. I have no clue about omegaverse so a part of me is confused, sometimes bored, another part of me is just waiting for Jeff and Alan to be a thing and all of me is happy that Pavel is on my screen weekly.

Twins

This show is dragging and I'm officially bored. I don't mind a slow burn if the rest of the show can hold it together. But the team animosity is just tiring and annoying at this point, the side couples are not engaging ( a bj in the shower does not a side couple make) and for a show named Twins, I would like to see more of them.

Middleman's Love

I'm 99% here for the sides. They are cute, they give me some Ram/King vibes and I wanna see more of them. I was super happy to see Ngern again and the family dinner was a good moment. I don't have the patience for this sort of misunderstanding anymore so that ending annoyed the hell out of me.

(I'm watching For Him too but I have nothing nice to say, so I'll say nothing at all. And yes I know I just did that with Shadow but I was never that invested in this one)

Really looking forward to Kinou Nani Tabeta tomorrow morning and The Sign in the afternoon.

I wish all a great weekend and thanks for reading💜

(because I needed a good cry)

[night-dark-woods]

Mara “Beloved Eris”/“Sweet, capable Petra” Sov

But also. Does Mara know about the assassination attempts on Petra. Realistically Mara “know everything” Sov would probably know, but then I refuse to believe there wouldn’t several less paladins when she found out

ok so for That, my dear friend Jackie's opinion (& i agree) is that Mara knows but doesn't do anything about it when she gets back, for several reasons:

it happened pretty early in Petra's regency (likely after she started actually Using her authority (see Report: Taken Power) and the techeuns and paladins had to actually deal with the fact that Petra was in charge for realsies). It's old news by the time Mara gets back.

the internal politics seem to have stabilized by Forsaken (if not of their own accord, then due to necessity- Uldren & first House Kings, then the Scorn), and Petra seems to have the Reef pretty well in hand when Mara actually returns (in Hunt iirc?). dredging up a years-old political incident would do nothing but destabilize a military already fighting an endless war on several fronts, and about to fight a new one as well.

it would undermine Petra's authority. Mara returning and immediately punishing someone over a personal slight (bc that's what it would be atp) would show a lack of trust and confidence in Petra's ability to handle internal politics, strip Petra of her hard-earned respect, and relegate her to a consort or non-military role. part of the pushback against her regency was that the high-ranking members of the court/military (same difference) thought Mara chose her because they were sleeping together (i do not think there is a single other way to interpret the Vouchsafe loretab. to be quite real) and Mara doing that would all but confirm their thoughts. Vouchsafe loretab as a treat:

"...No one thought you were right for that job. We thought…" He flattens his mouth. "Well, we thought Mara was favoring you for the wrong reasons. You're young; you were still green. You certainly weren't Sjur. When Mara died, and suddenly you were Regent instead of me or Devi or whoever…"

assassination attempts would presumably have been made by extremely essential and high-ranking commanders. top of the list would be Illyn (see loretab Illyn, Pathfinder set head armor) & Kamala Rior (see Chain of Souls, Prodigal set leg armor, a Talk to Petra flavortext). i know Illyn is Distributary-born from a Pilgrimage, and i believe Rior is as well; given that Petra on chronologically-first loretab mention (Oathkeeper) is called "a child" by Mara, i don't think there are any Reef-born in command roles tbh. both Illyn and Rior are also deeply essential to both the religious/technological AND military (inasmuch as those are in any way separate) command structures for the Awoken. those are the main suspects, but the entire command structure doubts her (see Honored, below, and Vouchsafe again). Illyn also was Petra's teacher when she flunked out of Techeun training, so that's a whole nother layer to the mess lmfao.

for Illyn:

"Quickly," Illyn hisses. "Before Petra is informed." Any breach of Processes and Services triggers an alert, and while they were crafty in their intrusion, even minute body heat and motion of the air will be detected.

&

We need more Techeuns, Illyn. You know I'm right." Illyn shook her head. "We are not weapons for the Queen's Wrath to command…"

& then for Rior:

Variks's fingers flexed. "Petra, the Loyal," he sneered. "Perhaps the murmurs of Kamala Rior are true, yes?"

Petra glowered.

&

"Regent-Commander Petra Venj, if you take the Queenship, I will take my fleet and leave." —Paladin Kamala Rior

&

"I'm sending you a permanent detatchment of Corsairs. Petra... I'm sorry for doubting you." —Kamala Rior

Honored

Petra does not see the cynical glance that passes between Leona and Pavel, who have both served the Queen faithfully for decades.

and lastly i dont think Mara has ever been one to act on emotion like that. she has always been LASER-focused on her goals and the Big Picture, determined to get there regardless of how grieved she is by her own collateral damage. she brought her people out of heaven to DIE. ("If you have grace, then see our sorrows, but swallow back your tears. We were made to pay this price. I led us to our fate.") the closest we get to a rash emotional decision is in the Oathkeeper tab when Sjur dies, and even then all she allows herself to do is send Orin to find her killers.

"...But if we divert our attention now to vengeance against an unknown enemy…" Mara put down the coin and allowed herself a small, humorless smile. "Then let it be my diversion."

EXTREMELY long response but. i think Mara knows, and however upset she may be personally, i think she would never act to destabilize the Reef like that. imo Petra understands, but i'd imagine it also fucking sucks sometimes. that is what it is to love a god-queen though.

ALSO. this is whats sooo fun abt whenever Sjur comes back (idec if it happens in canon. its true in my heart. it says in literally every Sjur-related loretab). bc everyone tells Petra to her face that she isn't Sjur. constantly. BUT then we got that radio message in SotWish where Mara told her that she was better suited for regency than Sjur. and Sjur isn't full of herself or unable to recognize others' capabilities, and she'd be impressed by Petra as well, and also horrified at what she had to deal with. just DEEPLY fun dynamic. i <3 Petra's small dog complex and violent tendencies. highly recommend Jackie's PetraSjur fic about it also, which touches on this actually and also belongs in a museum: (link)

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter III - Set in Stone

Chapter Summary: You and Aleksander grow closer still. He is your comfort. You are his rock. But are you still friends? Or is there something… more?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Fedyor Kaminsky, Ivan, Pavel, Baghra, Zoya Nazyalensky

Word Count: 3908

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089923471/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089802384/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089794945/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089796653/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089798507/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089949563/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089796662/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089958423/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089792243/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089786954/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089783730/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

Thank you so much for all the kind comments and likes! It really means a lot to me that you enjoy this story and let me know about it. Thank you! ❤️

It's been months since you've started the work on the new skiffs and the beginning of your friendship with General Kirigan. By now everyone knows you two are best friends. It still bewilders them. And makes them jealous. You hear them whispering, talking ill about you. It bothers Aleksander more than you. You're used to such comments. It upsets the Darkling even more. But you somehow manage to stop him from slicing the whole Little Palace with his shadows. Barely.

One day, you take some Grisha and go to another city for materials you need. As usual, you insisted on checking their quality personally. This time Aleksander can't accompany you, so he really reluctantly agrees for you to go. You complain about it, saying he doesn't trust you nor your abilities, nor powers of his own Grisha. He gives up just to stop you talking.

However, you don't return the day you're supposed to. The Darkling gives you one more day, before he takes some of his men and sets out to meet you. Instead, he finds a massacre. All Grisha from your group on the road, dead, bloodied.

'A work of Fjerdans,' Fedyor says grimly, finding a weapon typical for your northern neighbour. But Aleksander doesn't seem to hear him. He looks frantically at the bodies, searching for any sign of you.

'General,' he hears Ivan strained voice. Kirigan rushes to him. He stops, seeing now what his Heartrender has found. Your bloodied and torn kefta. And that's all.

'Must be the work of their wolves,' Pavel, an Inferni, says, joining them. Aleksander clenches his fists. He doesn't comment. He orders to collect the bodies and return to the Little Palace. All but Ivan return. General sends him to search the woods for any survivors.

In the evening Fedyor gives Kirigan his report on the matter in the Darkling's bedroom. Once he's done, he falls quiet. He sees General is lost in his thoughts. He hasn't let his emotions shown all day.

'You're hoping Ivan will find her, aren't you, sir?' Fedyor asks, not being able to hold it. Aleksander flinches. He looks at his Heartrender.

'You think that because we haven't found her body, she's still alive,' Kaminsky guesses. Kirigan doesn't answer at once.

'She was a fighter,' he finally says, looking out of the window he stands by. 'She really was. I've watched people tear her down and then ask for her help. And she would help them. She would spend hours helping them. I've always admired and hated that part of her.'

Fedyor is silent. He knows that by talking about you in such way and in past tense, General is trying not to have too much hope. But he still has it. Even if only a bit.

'I know there's a small chance she's still alive,' he says. 'But like I said… she's a fighter. If anyone made it out, it's her.'

'She doesn't have a battle training,' Fedyor points out. Aleksander smiles slightly.

'She doesn't need it,' he says and turns his back to the Heartrender, letting him know the conversation is over. Fedyor bows (not that the General sees it) and leaves the room.

At night, something awakes Kirigan. He keeps his eyes closed, but uses his other senses to figure out what's wrong. Suddenly, he lunges forward and presses the knife he always has hidden under his pillow to the person hovering about him. He freezes immediately.

'A knife?' you ask, looking curiously at the weapon, and then back at Aleksander. 'Are you flirting with me? Because that's a really pretty knife. Any Durast would start crying seeing such good craftmanship.'

'[Y/N],' Aleksander says, stunned. He drops his knife. In a moment his arms are around you. You're both surprised by this display of affection. Still, you put your arms around him and pat his back awkwardly.

'Yeah, it's me,' you say. 'Don't worry, I didn't return as a ghost to haunt you.'

'Don't even joke like that,' Aleksander scoffs and pulls away. 'What happened to you?'

'I was taken hostage,' you sigh, falling on the bed next to him. 'Apparently, they somehow found out we're trying to make better skiffs. And that I'm responsible for making that happen.'

'So, they attacked your group and took you hostage,' Aleksander sighs. You nod.

'I tried to fight back. I lost my kefta in a struggle. I've heard you found it. The blood wasn't mine, by the way.'

'Then whose?'

'A Fjerdan. It splattered on me after I cut out his eye.'

'… You did what?'

'Well, stabbed his eye, to be more precise. But then it fell out of his-'

'Stop. I beg you.'

'Right. Anyway, they took me with them and set up a camp a few hours away. They wanted to torture me in Fjerda to get answers about how we're doing. And then kill me.'

'But you escaped.'

'No.'

'No?'

Aleksander frowns. You smile softly at him.

'You sent Ivan to find me,' you explain. 'He saved me. And killed Fjerdans. He was very angry. I think he has a soft spot for me.'

'Because he killed Fjerdans?' Kirigan asks, trying to supress a smile.

'That and he kept giving me lectures on a way back,' you add. 'While forcing me to have his kefta around my arms. And he kept asking if I'm alright.'

'He never asks me if I'm alright,' Aleksander says, frowning and almost pouting. You giggle. He scoffs and bumps your shoulder with his. You grin at him. You sigh after a moment.

'I should go,' you say, standing up. 'I just wanted to let you know I'm alive. I'll let you rest.'

General grabs your hand. You look at him, puzzled.

'I'm really glad you're okay,' he says. You smile at him and squeeze his hand.

'Sleep well, Aleksander,' you say. Kirigan lets go of your hand.

'You, too, [Y/N],' he says. You nod at him and leave his chambers. The Darkling falls back on his bed, but it's a long time before he's asleep again. His heart is beating fast and his head is full of images of your face. Of you. Alive. And back with him. He smiles with his eyes closed and finally falls asleep.

*

Sometimes, it still happens you don't come to your daily ritual tea with Aleksander on time. He could be more annoyed, but he is late sometimes as well, because of some meetings or other business. You never complain. Maybe tease him sometimes. So, when one day you don't show up for a long time again, Aleksander walks to your workshop, not indenting to scold you, because he knows how important is your work to you, same as his for him.

He expects to find you hovered over some materials, trying to figure out how to use them for creating a skiff. Maybe with a deep frown of concentration on your face. Instead, he sees you sitting by your worktable, yes, but with your head placed on your folded hands and staring into the space, with a sad expression on your face.

Aleksander is confused and doesn't reveal himself, trying to figure out what's wrong. He doesn't and he knows you won't tell him if he's going to just ask and insists on it. So, he thinks of an ingenious plan to make you reveal your problems from your own will. Step first: cheering you up. Even if you don't tell him what troubles you, he still has to do it. He thinks of a way and remembers one of your conversations.

You were in his chambers. The sun was setting and it was shining in your eyes. You were narrowing them, so not to get blind. Aleksander covered the room in shadows, blocking the sun a bit. You smiled.

'I like when you summon your shadows,' you admitted. He looked at you with surprise. No one ever had told him they liked his shadows. People were usually afraid of them. And you liked them? He's not summoning them that much in your presence, only when he saw you could use a little dark, but still…

'You like them,' he repeated slowly. You nodded enthusiastically.

'They make me feel safe and… homey,' you explained. 'Maybe because they're part of you and whenever you're around I know nothing bad can happen.'

He looked at you, bewildered. His face made you laugh.

'Oh, don't look at me like that!' you chuckled. 'Anyway, I've always preferred the night from the day.'

And he couldn't help it. He smiled, feeling warm inside.

It takes him a mere second to cover the workshop with his shadows. You jerk your head up, surprised. You smile slightly, understanding, and look at the door. Kirigan already feels proud because of that smile.

'Aleksander,' you greet him. 'I'm late, aren't I? I'm sorry. I will join you in a moment.'

He doesn't walk away. He walks closer instead. He extends his hand to you. You look at it, puzzled.

'Please, dance with me in the dark,' he says, his voice so smooth you shiver.

'But… there's no music,' you say, but still give him your hand. He pulls you up and presses to his chest. He places his other hand on your waist. You put yours on his shoulder.

'We don't need music,' he says and starts leading you in a dance. You're glad it's so dark thanks to Aleksander's shadows. You're sure you're red as a tomato. Because it feels strange and wrong to dance with him, especially like that. But also, it is surprisingly good…

You're not sure how long you two are dancing. Time doesn't matter when you're in his arms, staring into his eyes. But when you two stop and pull away, you almost wish to grab him again. Instead, you two sit by your worktable.

'I'm not stupid,' you say. 'You want me to share my troubles with you.'

'I also wanted to cheer you up,' Aleksander adds.

'Well, you succeeded in that,' you concede. He smiles.

'I'm glad,' he says. 'And about the other one?'

You sigh. You look away. You're silent, trying to gather your thoughts.

'Remember that Durast I was seeing?' you ask finally.

'The one I think is not good enough for you?' Aleksander asks grimly. He has no idea why he doesn't like him. But he feels irritated whenever he sees you two laughing and talking.

'Well, turns out I wasn't good enough for him,' you say sadly. Kirigan stiffens. He feels rage inside him. He calms down for your sake.

'Or rather, it was never about me,' you say bitterly. 'He just wanted to use me to get in your good graces. When he realised that I'm not going to do that, he ended our… relationship. Saying I'm not what he wants.'

'And with that he achieved the opposite of what he wanted,' Aleksander says and ponders. 'Maybe I could send him on the next skiff to get rare materials from the other side of the Fold?'

'Stop it,' you say, rolling your eyes and elbowing General's side. But you're touched he wants to take revenge in your name. You sigh.

'I shouldn't be surprised, really,' you say. 'It's not like the first time. I'm always either used, replaced or forgotten. I understand that. But what I don't understand is why.'

Tears well up in your eyes. Aleksander frowns at you.

'I always try my hardest to make people happy and to mean something to them,' you say, your voice breaking. 'But it never works. I'm always worth shit to everyone, every time.'

You can't stop the tears from falling from your eyes. Aleksander cups your face and swipes away the tears. He looks at you intensely. He wants you to believe what he's about to say.

'Not to me,' he says firmly. 'You're worth so much to me. You're my best friend. And I'd rather fight the army of Volcras then to forget about you.'

You chuckle. Aleksander smiles slightly.

'You are not hard to love,' he says seriously. 'You just asked the wrong person to try.'

'Yeah, my "right" person,' you sigh, looking away. Aleksander frowns. He forces you to look at him again.

'You don't believe it,' he says. 'That someone could love you.'

'Well, it didn't happen so far, did it?' you say, trying to sound nonchalant. You seem to become smaller. And it makes it click for Aleksander.

'Your father,' he guesses and you flinch. 'Your father didn't love you, so you assume no one else would either.'

You're stubbornly silent. Aleksander shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug. You try to pull away but he's having none of it.

'One day, you will meet that right person,' he says strongly. 'The person who will love you. Because that's what you deserve, not the people like that… whatever-his-name-is. You deserve someone who's gonna treat you like you matter every day. Not just when it's convenient for them.'

'Someone like you?' you hum.

'Well, I hope I'm treating you like you matter every day, because you do, but I seriously hope you'll get someone who is not like me,' the Darkling answers. 'You deserve someone better.'

You smile slightly at that. Kirigan answers you with the same.

'Thank you, Aleksander,' you say softly. 'Truly.'

'Any time,' General says. You stare at each other for a second.

'Tea?' you ask.

'Yes,' Aleksander confirms and moves away. He calls his shadows back. He waits for you to gather your things and together you leave the workshop. Hand in hand.

*

Next day Kirigan is having tea with Baghra, the Grisha's teacher. And, which no one knows, his mother. It's awkward and tense. As usual. Baghra also keeps shooting him looks. Aleksander finally can't take it anymore.

'Just spit it out,' he sighs. 'What is it?'

'I've heard you're spending awfully a lot of time with that Durast girl,' Baghra says slowly after a moment. '[Y/N]. What do you need from the poor girl?'

'Really, mother?' Aleksander scoffs. 'I become friends with someone and you already accuse me of wanting something from them?'

'Friends?' Baghra repeats and chuckles dryly. 'I find that hard to believe.'

'I've had friends before. Not that you were making it easy for me to make them.'

'Maybe, but I find it hard to believe you're friends with a girl like [Y/N].'

'A girl like [Y/N]? Care to elaborate?'

'Kind. Full of light. People like her don't belong with our darkness and shadows.'

Aleksander stares at her. He had such thoughts, of course, he did. But then you said you prefer night from the day. Darkness from light.

'How do you even know what kind of girl she is?' he asks.

'I trained her, too, you stupid boy,' Baghra scoffs and her look softens. 'She was extremely bright for her age. And powerful. But what was always really hitting me, was that look in her eyes. I saw in them-'

'Peace,' Aleksander finishes quietly. 'And gentleness.'

'Exactly,' Baghra confirms. 'That's why she's not someone I imagine as your friend. So, what do you what from her? Because the poor girl has suffered enough manipulation and that's not something that should happen to the person in her age.'

Aleksander slowly stands up. Baghra looks up to meet his gaze.

'That's where you're wrong, mother,' he says calmly. 'Yes, she's gentle and kind. But she's also strong and… full of energy.'

He starts pacing around the old woman's hut. She barely manages not to look at him with confusion.

'Whenever I'm around her, I feel alive,' he confesses. 'For a short while, I can forget about my demons. That's why she is my friend. We both give the other what they need.'

'And that would be?' Baghra asks, irritated. Aleksander stops and looks at her.

'She needs a friend who values her, makes her feel safe and appreciated,' he says. 'See her for who she is. And I need someone who will pull me away from my plans, ambitions, demons…'

Baghra is speechless. Her son stares at her with fire in his eyes.

'I am her warmth,' he says. 'She is my peace. We need each other. So, no matter what will you say or do… and I warn you against doing anything to destroy our friendship… I will not give it up. Give her up. She doesn't deserve it.'

He looks at his mother coldly one last time and leaves the hut, the door slamming after him. Baghra sits in silence for a few minutes.

'Stupid boy,' she whispers after a moment, stunned, and shakes her head. 'He has no idea…'

If she was to follow Aleksander, she would witness him meeting you on the way back to the Little Palace. His irritated walk slowly becomes calm. And when you notice him and smile at him, he can't help but do the same.

'Good morning, General,' you say teasingly. 'What are you doing outside so early?'

'I had some things to discuss with Baghra,' he says. Not a lie and not a full truth.

'Hm, I haven't seen her in a while,' you say thoughtfully. 'Maybe I should pay her a visit.'

Over my dead body.

'I think you're the first person who willingly wants to visit her,' Aleksander says instead of his thoughts. You grin at him.

'I think she has a soft spot for me,' you say. 'She uses a slightly less bitter tone when she speaks to me.'

'Ivan, Baghra… How is it you manage to wrap the grumpiest people around your little finger?' Aleksander asks, raising his eyebrows. You look at him mischievously.

'Don't forget about you,' you tease him. The Darkling laughs.

'I suppose you're right,' he says. He is confused by the soft smile forming on your lips and warmth in your eyes.

'I love making you laugh,' you say, surprising him. 'Because for those few seconds I made you happy and seeing you happy… it makes me happy too.'

Kirigan stares at you, stunned. He smiles after a moment.

'Sounds like a good reason for me to be happy more often,' he says. You grin.

'I'm afraid for that to happen I would have to murder about half of the court,' you joke.

'You jest, but I'm afraid that's actually true,' Aleksander sighs. You tap your finger on your chin.

'Well, I don't think I can kill them… but I can always make them anaemic?' you suggest. General laughs again and you grin, proud of yourself.

'Ah, all that's good has to come to an end, it would seem,' the Darkling says, seeing someone behind you. You turn and see Fedyor coming your way. He smiles to you and stops by your side.

'[Y/N], I'm afraid I have to ask you to stop your magic that makes General laugh so hard,' he says and Kirigan rolls his eyes. 'We need him to be serious and terrifying for the meeting with the generals of the First Army.'

'I was trying so hard to make him laugh, Fedyor, you know?' you ask, in mock offence.

'We both know you didn't,' the Heartrender denies.

'Forgive me, [Y/N],' Aleksander says, wanting to stop you two. You shake your head.

'We both have our duties,' you say. 'Seventeen?'

'On the dot,' Aleksander confirms. You lean conspiratorially to him.

'Remember, say a word "anaemia" and I'll try my best,' you whisper. Kirigan chuckles and shakes his head fondly at you. He squeezes your arm and follows Fedyor. You go your own way. Which happens to be the training grounds. A friend has sent you a note, asking you to meet her there.

You aren't really good friends, but you have a good relationship and can always count on each other when you need it. People are still surprised by it. You think they expect you two to despise each other, fight for the Darkling's attention. But strangely enough, neither of you ever thought of that. You just hit it off one day and ever since spend time together from time to time.

'I really hope you didn't ask me to come here to watch as you kick some poor guy's ass, Zoya,' you say, as you reach your friend. Around you two other Grisha are training with Botkin.

'Even if it's Pyotr?' Zoya asks, giving you a look. You stiffen.

'You heard, then?' you ask. The Squaller scoffs.

'It's all he can talk about today,' she explains. 'And you know how rumours like that love to spread.'

'Great,' you murmur.

'Does General know?'

'Yeah, I told him yesterday. Or rather he tricked me to telling him.'

'Hm. I can't wait to see what he does to Pyotr. He hates when someone hurts his best friend, after all.'

'… He already considers sending him to the Fold.'

'He wants to feed Volcras with him? Not a bad idea, I must admit…'

'For the supplies, Zoya! Saints. It's not funny.'

'I know, I know.'

For a moment you watch the training Grisha in silence. Zoya keeps glancing at you.

'To be honest, you're holding up much better than I thought you would,' she says. You think before answering her.

'I didn't believe he's the one, to be honest,' you finally admit. 'Maybe because I don't really believe someone could love me, thanks to my darling father.'

'Or your heart simply knew it's not him,' Zoya counters.

'And when it does?' you sigh. 'How can one tell it's them?'

'Oh, there are many ways to tell,' your friend says, smiling. 'But I believe in one.'

She turns to face you. You frown at the serious and sincere look in her eyes. And by the warmth in them. Zoya is always cold. Like Fjerda. No, Fjerda is much warmer than her.

'It all comes down to the last person you think of at night,' she says and her look softens. 'That's where your heart is.'

You stare at her, bewildered. In a second, she's back to her cold demeanour.

'Tell anyone I said that, I'll feed you to the ducks,' she threatens.

'Said what?' you ask. Zoya nods with satisfaction.

'Exactly,' she says. Just then Botkin calls for her. She sighs and squeezes your arm.

'I wanted to see how you are and I'm glad you're not in as bad shape as I thought,' she says.

'Thanks,' you say, rolling your eyes.

'But if you need to talk, find me later,' the Squaller says, her words contrasting with a stern look she gives you. You smile at her.

'I will,' you say. 'Thank you, Zoya. Truly.'

Your friend winks at you and hurries to fight a Grisha pointed to her by Botkin. You watch her for a moment longer, then head toward the workshop, feeling better than last night.

The rest of the day you work on the skiff. Pyotr is clearly displeased you're not a mess and that you're even smiling. At seventeen o'clock you have a tea with Aleksander and then you return to work some more.

It's late at night when you reach your room. You sketch some new ideas and prepare to sleep. Once you're in bed, you think about the good things. You smile when your thoughts drift off to Aleksander and how danced with you. You really felt good then. So happy and loved-

Your eyes snap open.

Oh. Oh.

… You're screwed.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/133572463

[prapaiwife]

one of my fave things about pit babe is how good of an actor the man portraying alan is theres just something about him like in that gifset where jeff is so close to him and you can physically see how much alan wants him. Actually the same goes for babe in the scene where he smells charlie for the first time lol they are all such talented actors and have so much emotion + express it so clearly i'm still so impressed by it

Hi anon!! I cannot agree more with u!!! Like half of these actors have been in some shows. Though I wasn't familiar with them till pitbabe except pavel. But watching pit babe I was so impressed with all of them! But with sailub (alan) yess like his and pon's chemistry is just 😫😫 so good! Their nc scenes in ep 12 were just done amazingly. Like I cant even put into words how they did that lol. I love how u can see the attraction it's so good like even in their new show tldhlb we saw that trailer they just dont miss!! One of my favorite scenes with alan was when he had to call the cops on dean! Lee and sailub were so GREAT like u really felt for both characters. Alan had to do something he didn't want to do to someone he considered family. And dean did the unforgivable all cause he chosen be selfish and get what we he wants. That moment with babe in ep when he smells Charlie's scent and he looks so satisfied😩 that's one of my favorite scenes too! Like pavel's facial expressions in that scene was perfect. This cast is so great and since they've played these characters once already the second time around is gonna be even better.

[itsyveinthesky]

Edit: There is now an official English translation of the whole article by Meduza themselves: https://meduza.io/en/feature/2023/06/03/the-only-thing-worse-than-war-is-losing-one

Meduza is a Russian- and English-language independent news website, headquartered in Riga, Latvia. It was founded in 2014 by a group of former employees of the then-independent Lenta.ru news website.

It asked the readers that supported the war to explalin why.

Sadly the answers paint a very bleak pictures of even young Russians reading independent media.

Some translated statements (feel free to correct if translated wrongly)

Andrey

35 years old, Volgograd

War ends when one side wins. Russia's defeat would mean national humiliation, which cannot be allowed. Consequently, one must win - there is no choice anymore.

Alexei

24 years old, Yakutsk

I do not support the war, but I do not want Russia to lose either.

Pavel

30 years old, Germany

I am angry at both sides of the conflict.

Anonymous reader

38 years old, city not specified

The only thing worse than a war is a lost war. It was an insane mistake to start it, but now it must be won, or else we will have the woe of the defeated. I don't support Putin, damn him.

Anonymous reader

36 years old, Tyumen

I'm not going to pay reparations for the mistakes of others for the next 20 years. No one talks to the losing side.

Nikolai

27 years old, Austria

I think the Western point of view is not quite right and agree with Putin's terminology of a unipolar world with double standards.

Artem

40 years old, Berlin

I have lived in Germany for 20 years and have never seen such propaganda. Western politicians and media have taken an absolutely one-sided position: Russia is the aggressor, Ukraine is a heroic state, Putin is always wrong, everyone looks into Zelensky's mouth.

Ruslan

28 years old, Kazan

I neither support nor condemn Russia for the war. I believe that since Russia started the war, it showed the weakness of its diplomacy and its inability to negotiate with a neighbouring state. However, I also do not support the point of view of those who compare Russia almost to Nazi Germany.

First of all, Ukraine had a choice; it could have reached an agreement with us in the early days of the war before things went too far and met our demands. It would have lost territories, but would have kept itself as a state. Is land more important than human lives? Therefore, Ukraine also bears some of the blame for the lives of those people who died. I am sure that people living in the territories that would have been handed over to Russia would certainly not have made their lives worse. Perhaps somewhere even better.

Sergey

27 years old, Perm

I support the actions of my president and my country. Yes, initially I didn't quite understand the point of this whole "operation", but after a while I saw the Russophobic statements both from Ukraine and from the European Union and the United States. Anyone with critical thinking and at least some common sense understands: Russia is not a "terrorist state", we are only defending our interests and sovereignty. That is why I, like most Russian citizens, fully support the UAS, and if I have to go to war, then I will go.

My personal favourite

Anonymous reader

30 years old, Astana

In a year and a half, [my] authority figures and moral compasses have turned into traitors (who wish harm to the citizens of their country, call for sanctions and do not try to lift them), shameful people (who offer to surrender to mercy and blame themselves), infirmities and liars.

I still believe that Russia got into this war for nothing, very much for nothing. But the way out offered by those [politicians] I [used to] hope for is shameful, painful, humiliating and deceitful. It is better to wait for those who will replace Putin: Russia is full of smart people.

Repenting for three [next] lives, giving up nuclear weapons and paying reparations - thanks, no thanks. I hope that the war will end as soon as possible and that as few people as possible will die in it, both Russian citizens in the first place and citizens of Ukraine, and if I have to go to war, then I will.

[crabbng]

Here are all the characters from my webcomic color wheel

Hana! my guy. whatever. you know him. NEXT

Tovio from https://ingress-comic.com by @kayartics he's a sad dad. i think the sadness and dadness are mostly unrelated. he knows a hot, evil woman which is good (for me, not for him). does cool magic. i'm pretty sure he's like.. cursed. but i'm sure it'll work out.

Pavel from https://phantomarine.com by @phantomarine sweet boy on a ghost ship full of ghost adults. he's more emotionally intelligent than them all, save for like.. two. maybe. head got chomped, it's fine. phanto is in the final days of its KS, [check it]

Yanell from http://sombulus.com by @delphina2k cool and competent. notable for being the most beautiful and smart person in sombulus world (as voted on by me). she also likes collecting rocks and that's so valid of her. SHE'S GOT WINGS!

Val from https://thunderstryke.thecomicseries.com by @socksofargyle just read this one! she's got 1) bow and arrows, 2) black scleras, 3) cool action moves, 4) is a nerd 5) in space. all good things. it seems like she's in pretty constant peril but she did agree to it so at this point it's on her

The Doll from https://heirsoftheveil.com by @tentacledeity she's an evil doll, but listen. hear me out. very fabulous. well, i don't know that she's EVIL, but she's very weird and mean. idk, i think there's more to her but MORE THAN ANYTHING.. she's fab.

Kate Blast from.. you'll never guess it.. https://kateblast.com by @renieplayerone the cranky magic girl of our dreams. fishnets and combat boots like, yes. her mission... to smack catboys with a bat. and i think we can all respect that.

Ida from https://conjuringcutlasses.com by @niccitrus an angel with a pink sword and pink sword ghost. taste. and you know- YOU!! KNOW!!!! were she not here, ren would not have that goody goody influence and she would be SAD!!!!! and also probably an asshole. i want to know her dreams.

[thesconesyard]

Underneath the Western Sky

4. Desert Rains

Hikaru Sulu smiled as he walked to the barn in the rain. It had started the night before and had made itself known even into his dreams. It didn’t often rain like this in the summer without being a passing thunderstorm. The garden and his rose bush at the front gate would be very happy.

He was happy. The rain was refreshing. Sulu tipped his hat back and lifted his face. Cool raindrops splattered against him.

“What are you doing?”

Chekov hurried past him making his own way into the barn.

“Aww Pavel it feels lovely!” Sulu called after him. But Chekov had ducked through the barn door and didn’t hear him.

Sulu finally entered the barn and wiped a sleeve across his wet face.

“You’ll catch a cold doing things like that,” McCoy said to him from Honey’s stall.

“Not in the summer,” Sulu laughed back. He grinned at McCoy, who just frowned and turned back into the stall.

“Think of all the things that will grow and bloom now because of this,” Sulu continued as he crossed the barn floor.

“Aye,” Scotty agreed. “And it’ll be good for a few of the things in the garden that were looking droopy.”

“Exactly!” Sulu said.

“Keeps up like this the creek could flood,” Jim said thoughtfully.

Sulu thought he heard a noise from the doctor. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had; after all McCoy and Scotty did enjoy their evenings by the creek.

“Miss Christine will be mad if we track in mud,” Chekov mused.

“Not at you,” Jim laughed. “Just me. You’d think someone else was the owner of this place!”

“It is hard work keeping up a house Jim,” Spock said.

“It’s hard work keeping up with the cattle too,” Jim replied.

“We all have our easy jobs and hard jobs. I for one wouldn’t want to swap with the gals,” McCoy called to the others.

“Cooking is fine,” said Chekov. “But I don’t want to clean the house!”

Chuckles came from all corners of the barn.

“Well, I’m going to enjoy this rain while it lasts,” Sulu said, leading a pair of the horses out towards the barn pasture. “Floods or mud or illness be darned!”

[scarefox]

i see you Pavel and I agree 😂😏

As you can imagine the comments are a mixed bag (the way people always forget that bisexuality is an option too and actors are not their characters). Meanwhile all the bis and lesbians in there have a good time 😅

It's a shame Pavel deleted his old Youtube videos, now every new fan thinks he's tame and hinged. Yall, he literally read thirst tweets in an old vid and had way too much fun with that and appreciated all genders graphic messages to him (+ he himself got pretty graphic revealing in that one too). Just saying.

I mean he also reposted this thirst trap edit lol

[firstpooher]

As i seen many people pointing this out and I’m really for it, as you said it could be nightmares because of Babe being scared - or it’s his thoughts - Way mentions their “date” - Babe didn’t show up and Tony telling him to work harder - he’s scared that he’s gonna be bad mama and he doesn’t want to let his child down, as well as he doesn’t want to let Charlie down… or it’s the baby. I mean baby development can trigger Babe’s anxiety or it’s connected to baby’s power and it can cause nightmares or visions or so. I know they’re now very much involved into their mama/papa agenda but why did Charlie choose this nickname, I can be delusional but it doesn’t seem like coincidence to me. And I’m also very much for mpreg next season. I think that they should see our engagement and get us the plot we want, I think Pavel will not let us down.

Additionally, I wanted to ask you about one thing. I might be delusional but hear me out. At the end of first season - I mean last episodes (after Charlie’s death) I’m sure that death of the person you live is traumatic but Babe fainting and later crying every occasion, he doesn’t seem to be hormonal for you? I mean I was thinking and amount of tears was hormonal?

yes, on the first point I agree with you, it could be babe scared that he won't be a good 'mama' or as u also said letting the child down, and actually just thinking about it. Their baby. Charlie and babe's baby will mostly be a special one, regardless of his second gender. So maybe babe is also very worried about sth happening to his baby like what happened to him. He is worried about his baby that the baby will be hunted by people like tony too and this appears in his nightmares the chasing the feeling of being caged in way's arms (I applaud Pavel for his acting in this scene and his raw fear and worry) 

The baby will most likely be special. So yes, the baby will be powerful, and it can trigger babe's anxiety a lot, I agree with you. Also yes that specific word used did really confuse us all cuz of all times they said it as i recall starting in EP 6 the word "mama" it was either used as fluff word or a kink (lol we all know charlie fantasies about getting babe pregnant) [fluff charlie first attempt at using was for what?? yeah them having a baby. Running around and calling charlie papa and babe mama after this they used it as a kink lmao] 

But this time it was babe waking up from a nightmare and a word like this can be used like a usual pet name? So charlie would causally address babe by it when he was trying to calm him down (the mere presence of charlie in that time did actually calm babe down, but the word was for assurance) and that it makes me wonder, this little word made my head spin with thoughts the moment I heard and I had to replay it a lot cuz were they trying to really imply he is preggo or those two were fooling around together, still lost in between. 

i hope it will be mpreg too im so excited for it i hope Pavel hears us out, mu is all over the social media so I'm pretty sure he read this a lot lol

he wont disappoint, no.

To address your last question, let me begin by discussing the nature of babe's emotions and feelings from my perspective. He is an emotional alpha male, experiencing raw emotions like happiness, sadness, grief, pain, and anger. These emotions were evident right from the beginning. Personally, I believe he is someone who displays intense emotions when triggered. Therefore, it doesn't seem logical to me. The days when he witnessed the love of his life passing away, seeing their lifeless body, and feeling their absence was too much for him. It was a traumatic experience, and it wasn't the only one he had to endure.

Babe went through many unspoken challenges that we were unaware of. So, when he finally found someone who brought him comfort and peace, only to lose him within a few months, it didn't just break him; I believe it left him wounded, with every corner of his house reminding him of Charlie. It's natural for him to cry his eyes out. If you're considering the possibility of his reaction being influenced by pregnancy hormones, physical sickness could also manifest (depending on the person). However, I don't think his appearance in episode 11, looking pale, supports the pregnancy theory.

[karamazovanon]

Smerdyakov: 1,2,3 and 12 (for the character ask thingy)

(character ask game!)

AHHH SMERDYAKOV MY BELOVED THANK U 4 ENABLING ME TO RANT ABT HIM.

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

oh man WHERE TO FUCKING BEGIN. he!! he's such a smug little shitlord and it's one of my favorite dosto psychological archetypes, a character who feels so different from everyone else & so isolated that they end up feeling better than everyone (e.g. smarter, like smerd's bit about the creation myth) while also worse than everyone (e.g. smerd's deep insecurity about his social standing esp compared to his brothers, idolizing ivan). he's just the Are you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go ape shitt? meme a little bit. also he's just a weird little control freak. i love my lil bouillon boy.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

FAVORITE is hard omg. i really love that he plays guitar and sings in falsetto........ he's just a little guy!!! and the line. the fucking line. "I exterminate my life by my own will and inclination, in order to blame no one." what a raw fucking line. and such a concise statement of pavel as a character, who spends the entire novel fighting to exercise his free will and establish his agency as a human being in the eyes of everyone around him through any means possible, and then he only finally gets the power he wants so badly by weaponizing the societal perceptions of him he hates so much (at first fyodor pavlovich only gives half a fuck about him when he starts having fits, then later on he gets away with murder by affirming their views of him as epileptic/weak, stupid, cowardly, "just a lackey", etc etc ive ranted abt this before). smerdyakov get behind me. he did nothing wrong

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

i mean. it's gotta be the killing small animals as a child right. like we can agree on that. that's not cool baby pavel. (to be fair though. it's also interesting symbolically as a reflection of his power struggle throughout his lifetime—even as a kid he was looking for creatures with even less power than he so he could feel like he was in control of something for once, which then turned to obsession over food, arguing with his father/master, murder, etc. Wish he didn't have to kill cats about it though !)

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

oooooo hmmmmm. this probably doesn't count as a headcanon but i do want him and katya to talk shit about ivan just once. i just KNOW they'd get his ass. also not to be predictable but i absolutely hc him as gay and not even in the im just making everyone gay bc i am way, in a 100% serious this-is-a-valid-interpretation-of-the-text way. i just think his utter lack of interest in women, alienation from society, insecurity about being Born Wrong, distaste for religion (esp. how illogical it is), etc is so very gaycoded. also that line about fyodor pavlovich offering to set him up with a girl to marry: "'Perhaps you ought to marry some girl, do you want me to find you one?' But this kind of talk would only make Smerdyakov turn pale with annoyance, and he would not reply." (tr. mcduff) like that was me on thanksgiving when my aunt asked if i had a boyfriend yet im sorry!!

[beardedmrbean]

An employment tribunal hearing brought by a sacked Christian teacher has collapsed after "prejudiced" comments were made by a panel member online.

The unnamed teacher brought the case against a primary school and Nottinghamshire County Council after she was dismissed for opposing the local transgender policy.

She was suspended for refusing to "affirm" an eight-year-old girl who wanted to be treated as a boy.

The teacher was later sacked for gross misconduct after looking up the child on the school's safeguarding database and sharing the information with her lawyers.

However, the case has collapsed after panel member Jed Purkis demonstrated a "significant prejudice against Christians".

The former GMB union officer has also expressed anti-Tory views, describing Conservative Party supporters as a "tumour".

The unnamed teacher described herself as a "Bible-believing Christian" and stressed her faith informed her belief on sex being an "immutable biological fact".

She also expressed concern about "social transition" resulting in "irreversible harm" being caused to a young person.

The case was being heard by panel members for six days.

However, all three members, including judge Victoria Butler, recused themselves late on Monday after Purkis' comments were discovered.

The hearing will be rescheduled for later in the year.

Responding to a comment suggesting only atheists should be in public office, Purkis wrote: "Damn right, you won't catch us killing in the name of our non-God."

Purkis also said: "If they are so f*****g super how comes there is so much shit going on in the world."

He separately asked "what's a good collective noun for Tories?", adding "a tumour of Tories" and a "cess pit of Tories".

Representing the teacher, Pavel Stroilov argued Purkis "appears to agree with a view which expressly advocates for religious discrimination in public life".

The teacher said it was a delay in receiving justice "but I have to have a fair trial".