#which isn’t the best title I’ll admit

[spittyfishy]

Tell me about the au

OKAY!!!

So the very basic synopsis is that one day while out on a mission, Peko finds a baby abandoned in the trash and rubble. Seeing too much of her own history in the situation, she makes the split second decision to keep the baby as her own. She knows she can’t bring it back to the remnants (bc Despair) and she can’t bring it to the Future Foundation (bc Yukizome and her track record with kids), so in a very un-Peko-like move, she takes the baby and runs.

She’s found after about six to nine months and brought back to the other remnants. They end up voting on if she can keep the baby, and Peko wins by one vote.

I think it’s a very fun au lol, since it’s built on the delightful basis of shenanigans, but the more the other remnants got added to it and the more kids that came along, the more despair related fun times took center stage.

There’s a couple different arcs that so far make up the majority of the plot.

First of course is Peko finding Koko, and then the two of them making their way through despair era Japan and as far across the world as they can get before finally setting up a home in Tasmania. It’s a period of acclimatization as Peko replaces caring for Fuyuhiko with caring for Koko, and having to unlearn everything the last two years of Despair have drilled into her. (Koko is a few months old when Peko first finds her)

Next would be once they both get taken back to the remnants. Everyone else having to figure out how to be around Koko and all the very strict rules Peko put in place. Peko and Fuyuhiko have to interact again and clash over Koko, and Nekomaru and Akane get very attached to Koko. This arc culminates in the Future Foundation finding Koko during a raid on the Remnants base, and their agents take her back to HQ. The Future Foundation assumes Koko must somehow be Junko’s child, since why else would the Remnants be caring for her. It’s an all hands on deck attack on the Future Foundation to get her back, which they ultimately end up doing. (Koko is 1-2 during this time)

Shortly after that the next kid comes into the picture, and that’s Mikan and Kazuichi’s (and technically Junko’s sort of) daughter Mimi. I got a separate ask about the mechanics of how that whole clusterfuck works lol, so they’ll be more on Mimi there. You’d think more kids coming onto the scene would make Koko more accepted by the group at large, and you’d be wrong lol. Fuyuhiko is enraged by what’s happening, especially with things like Kazuichi fixing the atmosphere for the kids sake. With the help of Hiyoko, Gundham, and Imposter (pretending to be Peko), he tries to take Koko to Hope's Peak to show her the trial room and hopefully get her into despair.

Once Peko realizes Koko’s been taken somewhere she gets Nekomaru, Akane, and Soda’s help to try and track her down. When Koko ends up refusing to go into the building (it is Big and Scary) Fuyuhiko loses his temper on her and pulls out his gun. Peko arrives just in time to see this and jumps in the way as Fuyuhiko pulls the trigger, and he ends up shooting Peko. She’s ultimately fine, but the whole situation ends up resulting in Fuyuhiko being all but kicked out of the remnants (or at least, he’s banished from their bases and forced to be on his own) (Koko is 3 when Mimi is born and 4 by the times Fuyuhiko has to leave.)

There’s a period of relative ease after that, before the announcement of an upcoming child number three. Sonia has decided she needs an heir who’ll be able to carry on Novoselic’s glorious conquest once she’s long gone. For this she needs a male. Any other royalty would have been long dead by her hand at this point, so her first choice is actually Izuru, since he’s technically also the Ultimate Princess. He’s not interested at all, and she ends up turning to Nekomaru. He's strong, he’s dependable, he’s great with Koko and Mimi, and she knows he’ll do everything in his power to keep their child safe. Both Gundham and Akane are very hurt by this, and each respond with varying levels of insanity. (Koko is 6 during this and Mimi is 3)

That’s basically it all so far, at least until the Neo World Project rolls around…

[hs-is-loml]

You Know This. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader

Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)

Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED

a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)

all translations of french below

Chérie = darling

masterlist

19 years old

You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.

“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”

“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him. 

“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?” 

“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw. 

“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach. 

You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.   

You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.

You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”

“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. 

"I'll never let you go."

20 years old

You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”

“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”

“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day. 

Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?” 

“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance. 

“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation. 

You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.

“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone. 

“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him. 

You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”

As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras. 

“Who is she?”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

“They must be dating.” 

“Charles! Over here!”

“Can you sign this for me please!”

You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.

“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction. 

21 years old

“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.

“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.

“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi. 

You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags. 

You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him. 

“For them,” he told you tenderly.

“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment. 

The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.

Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand. 

“I love you,” he replied back.  

22 years old

With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two. 

“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.

You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes. 

The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.

“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”

“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.

“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”

Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”

Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.

“Will you make carbonara?”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”

“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.

“YES!” he cheered out at your response.

“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.

“Or the muffins!” Alex added on. 

“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.

24 years old

You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.

“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.

“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense. 

“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”

“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.

"No one!" Carlos quipped.

"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.

"No, it's my sister..."

“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.

“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at. 

“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”

A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.

You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.

at the circuit 

“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."

You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”

He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”

“Prove what-” 

You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”

“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.

“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies. 

“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver. 

Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando. 

“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear. 

“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.

“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.

“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.

“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room. 

He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”

"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."

"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.

“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.

You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.

“This is not funny, Y/n.”

“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair. 

You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”

You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”

“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.

“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.

You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”

He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further. 

“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.

"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."

"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.

[1moreff-creator]

EP 13 Revision: Trying to Solve the DRDT CH2 Murder

Back in my bullshit I go! So, episode 13, what a chapter! Really made my old murder theory seem unlikely, so let’s see if there are any convincing alternatives, shall we? As a heads up, most of my theory actually remains the same, a lot of this is just me going over some other possible alternatives. Although I’m also going to talk about what happened to Ace as well, and that theory has changed quite a bit.

Spoilers up to CH2 EP13. CW Murder, hanging, strangulation, asphyxiation, Eden!Culprit, Ace!Culprit, Nico!AceAttacker, blood, mention of Xander losing his eye.

You don't exactly need to know what my previous theory was to understand this post past the “Murder Method” title, but it might help, so here's Levi!Accomplice anyways. Speaking of:

How Dead We Talking?

Levi: In that case, we should be suspicious of those who *do* have an alibi in the evening but not in the morning.

Levi: Then, did the killer perhaps use some sort of mechanism to hang Arei?

These lines in particular, especially combined with some other dubious lines in the past, make me very doubtful Levi!Accomplice is the right answer. An obvious presumption of this theory is that Levi would want Eden to win the trial; if he didn’t, he’d just call her out and explain everything. Even if he just gave her the fish, I think he’d have said that by now. But these lines have Levi actively pointing people towards the right culprit (if it’s Eden) or the right method. You could read this as him choosing to betray Eden after Hu’s speech, yet still hesitant to fully reveal his involvement. However, given he willingly admitted to his secret because he considers honesty good and wants to be a good person, it seems weird that he’d keep being disingenuous and hiding evidence from the cast.

There’s also this statement:

Levi: But it is a “good” thing to make sure someone else doesn’t die, even if I personally do not care about the outcome.

Of course, you could read this as him wanting to save the life of the person he considers the “most good,” that being Eden, but the problem is he also admitted to seeing other participants (such as David) as good. I’m not fully opposed to stretching dialogue to fit certain theories (I still believe venus-is-thinking’s explanation of Eden’s breakdown after the Arturo story in the trial works well enough not to disqualify Eden as a potential culprit, for example), but I have my limits. A lot of what Levi said in his speech and beyond reads a bit too strangely for me to really consider Levi!Accomplice as likely as I once did.

Is it 100% dead? No. There is the ticking clock motif in the background, and some of Eden’s reactions to Levi’s speech could be read as pointing towards this, but I feel like that might just be a “foils” thing? Like, the person with quote unquote “bad” thoughts that does good things, contrasted with the person with quote unquote “good” thoughts that does a pretty bad thing (if Eden killed Arei).

(Disclaimer: there’s no such thing as “good” and “bad” thoughts and feelings, it’s your actions that determine whether you’re good or not, Levi’s a good person even if he has low empathy, you know this)

In any case, while there’s a world out there where Levi!Accomplice is still the right answer, just in case, let me throw out a few more theories on how this could work. Unfortunately, I can’t come up with any answer that solves every mystery of the case as well as Levi!Accomplice does, which is why I still consider it possible, but I’ll do my best.

Murder Method - Hey, I Wasn't That Wrong!

The things discussed in this chapter halfway confirmed a lot of what I speculated about the method itself (assuming Teruko isn’t wrong, but I feel the trial would flow a bit weird if she presents one relatively good theory and then backtracks). The killer used the spinny thing as a pulley to pull Arei up to the ceiling, using the rafters and the seesaw (yo the seesaw WAS important, Korekiyo fans winning!) to set up the mechanism. After Arei was high enough, they tied the rope to one of the handlebars so it would tense before Arei hit the ground, and let go. To make sure her neck would break instantly, they also attached water jugs to her in order to increase her effective weight. To avoid the rope sliding off the handlebars, they used tape with a sandpaper-y texture that makes it easier to grip. In other words, the tape from the gym. It is also implied the killer splashed Arei with water, either accidentally or to hide her body temperature.

I got… most of this right. I didn't catch the seesaw thing, nor the splashing with water thing, and I didn't fully realize the purpose of the tape, plus I thought the killer would have used a second piece of rope attached to the swing set as a "stopper" instead of tying one long piece of rope… but the main pieces are there!

The last few details haven't been discussed yet, but I still think they're solid. To get the rope over the rafters, they tied one end to something like the ball of clothes (or any equivalent) and threw it over the said rafters. On the way, they accidentally hit the lights, displacing them and causing it to break and start flickering.

(How many posts can I fit this image into? Watch it be wrong, too)

The rest is simple. Arei's wrists (and possibly feet) were bound by the tape after something happened to scuff the floor. That's actually a sticking point of the old theory: figuring out exactly how those specific scuff marks would form.

I've always just taken them as evidence of some kind of struggle, but how do they form? Well, they look like either tire tracks (which I'm gonna assume are impossible) or, perhaps, clawing at the floor.

Since the old "struggle" no longer applies, I'm going to take a shot in the complete dark and speculate, with practically no evidence, that the struggle is: The killer managed to tackle Arei to the ground from behind, Arei falling stomach first, and either strangled her with the rope or smothered her with the ball of clothes (because evidently I just like to throw this thing at any unsolved mysteries I can, sometimes literally) until she lost consciousness, but no more. Arei clawed at the floor while this was happening, generating the scuff marks.

(I am assuming the rope is long enough to do this even with the mechanism already set up, which it should be)

Now, you might be thinking that there’s a method I’m leaving out, that being the turpentine. Since DRDT’s turpentine can apparently knock people out, isn’t it possible she was knocked out with it?

Well, actually. If the method Teruko describe is accurate (which for the purposes of this post, I’ll assume it is), Arei cannot have been knocked out with turpentine.

Why? Because of the marks on her wrists. The ones that imply they were bound by tape at some point.

Why is this a problem? Simply put, turpentine’s too good to need the tape around Arei’s wrists. In the Ace case, Ace was unconscious for quite a while; however long it took to set up the murder mechanism, and a little after Eden and Teruko entered the room. Translated to Arei, if the killer knocked her out with turpentine in the playground, they would easily be able to put the noose around her neck and do the pulley trick before she woke up, making the tape redundant.

This leaves us with three options if Arei was knocked out with turpentine. Either Arei was knocked out outside the playground, at which point you’d need a different explanation for the scuff marks on the floor; the killer didn’t know how long turpentine induced unconsciousness lasted; or the killer was extra cautious for some reason. Notably, those last two would imply the killer is different from the Ace attacker, since Ace’s wrists were never bound as far as we can tell, and at that point you need to explain how they got the turpentine in the first place.

Compare that to unconsciousness induced by asphyxiation. Although it could take up to two minutes to knock Arei unconscious, consciousness is regained around ten seconds after pressure is relieved in cases of asphyxiation. That’s too quick for comfort, since if Arei regains consciousness before the rope takes her off the floor, she would easily be able to slide the noose out of her neck.

That means the killer would need to tie her hands to make sure they could pull off the pulley trick without issues, which explains the marks on the wrists.

A note on the asphyxiation thing; I think even a weaker person could realistically pull this off if they caught Arei by surprise. From what I understand, it’s difficult to meaningfully resist against strangulation from behind, so even if Arei is stronger than her killer, it’s a plausible method. However, I could be wrong about this. It might shock you to know this, but I'm not very well versed in the logistics of murdering people.

Also, you might say that that's insane. Why do all the mechanism stuff if they had already asphyxiated her unconscious? And while that is a very fair question, there is no way to eliminate it. Keep in mind Arei's wrists were bound at some point, but the mechanism was still used. No matter how the tape got around Arei's wrists, there will always be a time when the killer could have killed her in a very simple manner (eg stabbing her, strangling her, bludgeoning), and still chose to complicate the method.

There are a few reasons that could be, but I currently believe this is related to what Teruko brings up at the end of EP 13. The mechanism is similar to the one used to try to kill Ace. This way, the killer could point to the superficial similarities as a way to pin the blame on Nico. Or the killer straight up is Nico and they're just obsessed with this method for some reason lol.

Oh, also, Arei’s missing a glove. I assume the killer removed it to better apply the tape on the wrists and just… have it in their pocket, I guess. I really don’t know what to make of this thing.

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

Side Note: The Ace Case

I said in my first reaction to EP13 that I would review the Ace case method. Since I don’t feel like making a separate post, I’ll tackle it here. We basically got one piece of evidence regarding this: Teruko believes there was either a hanging or a pulley involved.

Now, you might know this case is actually lot harder to figure out than the Arei one. The first time I tried to come up with a method, alongside venus-is-thinking, accirax and thebadjoe, we went kinda insane. There's a lot of really weird evidence in the short investigation we got, which led us to creating gym-wide wire circuits, crucifying Ace, giving Eden the turpentine, hypothesising about wire yo-yos and on-off switches for the fans, and who knows what else. As fun as that was, there was surprisingly little hanging and pulleying in that thread, and now that Teruko's implied the Arei method is somewhat similar to the Ace method, we might be looking at not-great answers.

And because this method is so difficult, I’m not very confident in the answer I’m about to give. I think it’s better than what I had before, but there’s still a few questions. I’m not too bothered by this though, since we’ll get answers in a few days anyways.

First thing to clear up: I firmly believe Nico did everything by themselves. The killer needed the turpentine to knock out Ace; Nico never denied taking the turpentine when accused, and straight up admitted they “made a serious attempt on Ace’s life.”

Rose: They even lied to and stole from me to commit murder. Out of everyone here, they’re the least innocent.

Nico: I—! I didn’t kill Arei! I swear!

Charles: But did you not intentionally try to make a serious attempt on Ace’s life? Answer honestly.

Nico: Y… Yes…

Then, when speaking about what they did, they always speak in first person singular, never giving any indication there was anyone else involved.

Nico: I didn’t… think about [the trial after the Ace thing]… I… I never should have… done that…

Not to mention they were in the gym, alone, with their cloak off, and they had the most motive for killing Ace. They’re the only person we know for sure had the opportunity to grab the turpentine, they said they were going to kill Ace before this happened, etc. You can certainly twist all of this in some way to make Nico not the sole culprit, and I respect those theories, but for me, the most compelling explanation is the one that makes the least amount of assumptions. That the guy that admitted to trying to kill Ace and implied they did it on their own, tried to kill Ace on their own. Occam’s Razor, and all that.

Plus, if there’s anyone else to blame, most people point to Hu. But…

Hu: It is not and never will be your decision as to what happens with our lives.

Note: The next part has been slightly edited, as I feel my original wording was poor

I don’t see Hu as the Ace attacker. There’s too many lines that (in my opinion) you have to really stretch to make it plausible, and while I’m not entirely opposed to doing such things (spoilers, I still believe Eden!Culprit), I’m only fond of doing them when there’s physical evidence to back up the claim. The dialogue can be interpreted in different ways, but I just do not see any real evidence Hu was involved in either crime this chapter.

Edit over

Yes, Hu’s wire is there, but Nico already stole one custom weapon from a friend, why wouldn’t they steal/borrow a second one? Even if they didn’t straight up ask for the wire, Hu claims she and Nico ate breakfast in Nico’s room, so it’s not difficult to assume Nico could have gone into Hu’s room at some point and gotten the wire that way. It’s also true Hu never calls them out on this, but that’s because she never saw the crime scene; even if she knows Nico had the wire, she probably wouldn’t immediately assume it was used in the murder.

Again, theories where Nico isn’t the sole culprit are perfectly valid, but I personally don’t believe them. I may get proven wrong by the end of the week, but oh well.

Aside from that, let’s make a quick recap of the evidence we have. Ace’s body and wounds; bloodstain on the wall; lone wire; fan wire; broken fan; moved benches; stool (brought from storage?); broom (pulled right out of Ace’s ass-); fallen weight rack; isolated weights; non-functioning fan; clean pull-up bar; Rose’s and Teruko’s account (Nico took the turpentine and used it to knock out Ace); banging noise; Nico’s missing cloak.

(Btw; I talk about the lone wire and the fan-wire as two completely separate things, since it makes things easier. Just assume Nico broke the wire before the murder attempt)

The first thing to note is that hanging Ace actually solves a particular point of contention from the first thread; Ace’s wounds. Because of the way Ace always grabs the front of his neck in the sprites after waking, some of us thought there were only injuries on the front. Meanwhile, others posited there were wounds all around Ace’s neck, based on the sprite and the blood on the wall.

But hanging offers an interesting middle ground. The wire tensing around Ace’s neck could cause injuries on both sides, but if Ace was slumped over, the injuries on the front would be deeper because gravity. I think? I’m no expert on hanging, might need Whit to confirm that one for me. But it’s conceivable, so I’ll go with it.

But we can’t just hang him simply. If you check the first thread, you’ll remember that by far the weirdest piece of evidence is the blood pattern on the wires. It stops and starts in weird places, as seen below:

This is difficult because it means the wire wasn’t continuously wrapped around Ace’s neck as you might expect. However, you might also remember one of the only explanations I have for the lone wire’s blood pattern; a noose pattern.

If the lone wire is tied in a way where Ace’s neck bleeds over the know but not the noose, the pattern is explained.

But how do we work a noose into the hanging? Well, a yo-yo. I’m kidding, but only kinda; you can put the noose around the isolated weights to weigh down Ace, making the hanging… more fatal? Look, I don’t know why Nico did half this shit, okay?

The big thing that’s left are the actual logistics of hanging Ace. It’s a lot harder than you might assume, and while I’m probably vastly overcomplicating it, I wanted to put the broom somewhere and this might be the bests place for it. So, taking inspiration from badjoe’s idea of using the broom to stabilize Ace, my own yo-yo theory, and venus-accirax’s general idea of crucifixion, I present to you:

A brand new murder diagram!

(Btw, didn’t mention it, but the fan can’t be spinning for this to work. Either there’s an off switch or Nico just broke it with the broom and then put it back more or less)

As you can see, the main trick is putting the broom across Ace’s jacket, going from one sleeve to the other stick-first, and then using the wires to lift it up (first the one on the pull up bar, then the one on the fan), wrapping them around Ace’s neck in the process. This allows Nico to keep Ace upright and with his neck as close to the ceiling as possible while putting the wires where they need to be. The lone wire is attached to the pull-up bar. Not pictured is the stool, which Nico probably needed to pull this off, btw.

After setting this up, it’s just a matter of pushing the broom out of Ace’s jacket. This would cause Ace to fall, tensing the wires (I’m hoping the pull-up bar is higher on the wall than it looks :v) and toppling the bench he was on. Sort of. The exact location of these things escapes me a bit.

After that… it’s possible Ace falling immediately caused the fan to fall, or the fan held for a moment, and this moment is when Nico got their cloak out of the gym. Maybe?

In any case, the fan collapses, the lone wire rips the tape out of the pull-up bar as it flies off, and Ace falls backwards. I’m hoping he’d be close enough to the wall to fall in a way that makes the back of his neck stain the wall with his blood.

When that happens, Nico starts to panic, grabbing the lone wire, putting the weights off to the side (I don’t know how they got there), and looking at Ace’s body just as Teruko and Eden enter the gym.

That’s more or less it. There’s obviously a few problems with this, and it’s probably significantly more complicated than the real answer, but it’s solid enough that some of it might be right. I just want to explain the blood on the wires, man.

One question is why the left fan isn’t spinning. This depends on how turpentine works in DRDT. If it emits fumes that you have to inhale for a while before passing out, Nico turning off the left fan (be it with an off switch or by breaking it with the broom) could be a way for them to make sure the fumes don’t dissipate. When Ace enters the gym, the turpentine could be open and hidden, in a way that after a while, Ace inhales all the fumes necessary.

However, it’s also possible turpentine works more like how chloroform is usually depicted. In that case, it’s possible Nico used their cloak as a rag to apply the turpentine, then took it out of the gym to avoid inhaling any fumes themselves.

Because i’m case you haven’t noticed, Nico’s cloak is sorta like Arei’s glove, in that I have no idea where they went, and thus can’t really imagine how they fit into everything.

What is with DRDT characters and mysteriously losing their clothes during murders?

It’s also physically dubious; not enough that I really think it’s 100% impossible, but still. And I have no idea what happened to the weight rack beyond “there might have been a struggle” (which only kinda works, those things are heavy), or why Nico put the weights there…

And I don’t know why Nico did any of this. My pal, please, just fucking stab him next time.

Is this right? Probably not, but I think the general idea is plausible. We’ll find out in a few days just how wrong I was about this, anyways.

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

Alright, so for the big question.

Whodunnit?

There are a few important things to consider when it comes to a culprit theory. I’ll outline them here so you can judge your own picks for culprit based on my criteria, though obviously it might be different from yours. Personally, I believe any genuine theory on the culprit must account for the following things:

-Time of Body Manipulation: Because of the swinging and the marks on the wrists, which should fade quickly, Arei’s body must have been hung shortly before it was discovered. Since she’s assumed to have died at around 7:30 AM (yes, there are theories to the contrary, but I can’t address every single possibility here, so I’m just going to take the 7:30 AM time of murder as accurate since it’s what I believe), it’s assumed that’s the time the body was hung. The culprit should probably be someone without an alibi at the time, potentially clearing David, Veronika, J, Hu and Nico.

Potential Workarounds:

+Fake Alibi: Applicable mainly to Hu and Nico. But would either of them be willing to die for the other? Also, Nico agreed with Teruko that David was acting suspicious at the end of EP11. If they’re the culprit, casting doubt on David is a bad move. If they’re an accomplice and want the culprit to win, it’s a bad move. If they’re an accomplice and don’t want the culprit to win, they’d just say who the culprit is. There’s probably other examples like this, but that’s just off the top of my head.

I really don’t think Hu or Nico did this, in case you can’t tell :v

+Third Party: A third party could have hung the body after the murder. But given this third party can’t be David or Veronika (again assuming 7:30 AM as the time of death), and I genuinely don’t know who else would do this, I don’t find this likely.

-Time of Fish Disappearance: Nico claimed none of the fish were missing the last time they fed them, after having dinner the afternoon before the murder. At face value, and assuming Nico ate around the same time Hu and Eden did, the fish would have disappeared between 7 and 10 PM, as the relax room was closed between 10PM and 8AM. And judging from how Teruko talked about the situation at the start of the trial, it seems unlikely that the fish were taken after 8AM. This would mean Eden, Hu, Charles and Whit cannot have taken the fish without some workaround. J, Veronika, Teruko and Arturo have alibis starting at least at 7:30 PM, so maybe they could have taken them, maybe not.

Possible Workarounds:

+Early Nico Dinner: We don’t know when Nico ate dinner, and according to a quick Google search, Americans are fucking insane and, on average, eat dinner around 6:00~6:30 PM.

Genuinely what. I eat dinner at 9:00 PM usually and that’s on the low end of the spectrum for my country. When I’m with family, I eat at like 10:00~10:30 PM. Are you US dwellers good? Deeply unserious country, I tell you.

With that aside, you get the idea. If Nico ate dinner at that time, practically every alibi given goes out the window, except Charles and Whit I believe. This would mean Nico didn’t eat with Hu and Eden, but neither mentioned them in the original alibis, so take that as you will.

+Fake Alibis/Nico!Accomplice: A lot of these alibis are just two people. It’s not outright impossible Charles and Whit, Hu and Eden, or Arturo and J are working together for a fake alibi. Well, maybe not the last one :v Alternatively, getting Nico to lie about the amount of fish they fed would work; the fish could have gone missing before Nico claims they did. I don’t find this particularly plausible, but it’s an option.

+Third Party/Arei: Someone other than the killer brought the fish to the playground, be it Arei or a third party. Arei could be plausible if the note is fake in some way, as the killer could have invited Arei in person and asked for the fish that way, but I find that somewhat unlikely because why give the time if the letter’s fake?

+Fake Fish: The fish in the playground (or maybe the pond, but likely the playground) are fake, either artificial or maybe taken from the kitchen… if that even has minnows as food. Don’t know how this one would work frankly.

+Early Catch: The killer planned to use the fish to hide time of death since the moment they heard the relax room would be closed during nighttime, and put the fish in the jugs before Nico got a chance to count them. If Nico didn’t count them as soon as they saw them in EP2, but rather later, when they first fed them, this gives plenty of time for anyone to pull this off. The killer doesn’t need to have everything planned from the start, just the fish trick.

I wonder if the amount of workarounds I found for this reveals some kind of bias… Who knows.

-BDA Rule: Rule 10; “The BDA will play when three or more people who did not witness the murder discover the body.” This could potentially clear Teruko, Whit and Eden.

Possible Workarounds:

+Third (Fourth?) Party: Someone who did not witness the murder, other than the BDA trio, saw the body before Teruko opened the door to the playground. At this point in the trial, and with David and Veronika having alibis for the time between the murder and the discovery, I doubt this is the case. Do you see why I originally landed on accomplice theory btw, it literally offers a workaround for every potential problem.

+”See No Evil”: If the killer turned their backs after letting go of the spinny thing, and didn’t see the moment Arei’s neck snapped, they may not be considered a “witness.” This could have been intentional, with the killer taking advantage of Teruko’s idea to search in a group of three (and her bad luck of picking just the wrong person) to try and clear themselves; or unintentionally. The killer may have decided to look away just because they didn’t want to see the death. This is especially plausible if the killer felt genuinely bad about what they were doing, which is the most common interpretation of Eden!Culprit.

-Handwriting: The handwriting on the letter doesn’t match Charles’ (custom weapon list), Teruko’s (abomination she calls a list of revealed secrets), Whit’s (he dots the ‘i’s with hearts), or Eden’s (sample in the trial).

Possible Workarounds:

+Fake Handwriting: The handwriting on the note could be fake; Whit wouldn’t dot the ‘i’s with hearts, Charles would write differently. And notably, the sample Eden gives in the trial is in print, while the handwriting in the note is in cursive, so it wouldn’t take any effort for her to fake it.

-Purpose of the method: If the killer really emulated Nico’s method to frame them, they have to know what that method was in the first place. Maybe not figure it out 100%, but they at least need to see the gym to get a basic impression of what the method may have looked like. This would implicate Ace, Teruko, Eden, and possibly the Ace attacker if they’re not Nico. Nico themselves might have also repeated method… Because. Alternatively, the method could have been used for the “See No Evil” BDA workaround, possibly implicating Whit or Eden again.

Possible Workarounds:

+Doesn’t Matter: There is no purpose to the method. The killer chose a pulley system because. I doubt anyone genuinely likes this possibility :v

+Something I haven’t Thought About: What it says in the tin.

-The gym tape: The gym’s tape was still on the floor when Nico left the night of Ace’s attack. At this point, only Teruko, Eden and Ace were on the room. MonoTV then locks down the gym, meaning no one can come in. We see MonoTV open the gym the next morning, and Rose and Teruko are the first to enter. The tape was gone. That, combined with the tape’s sprite disappearing from the background around the time Ace gets up, would heavily imply the tape was taken by either Ace, Teruko or Eden. Since the tape later appears to have been used in the murder, this heavily implicates them.

Possible Workarounds:

+Eden the Unwitting Accomplice: The killer asked Eden to get the tape for them. However, this would mean that Eden would immediately know who the killer is the moment the tape gets identified. It doesn’t work to frame Eden, either, because at that point it’s her word (“[killer] asked me to get it for them!”) vs yours (“nuh uh”). And I don’t care who you are, people will trust Eden’s words over yours. It’s much safer to just get the tape yourself, and everyone has access to the gym. This is a pretty outlandish idea, in my opinion, unless you can come up with some other reason the killer would give Eden (or Ace) for picking up the tape.

+Eden or Ace took it for no reason and returned it later: No evidence of this.

+MonoTV Put it in Storage: Doesn’t explain the sprite disappearance, but even if you ignore that, there is no indication it did that.

+Rose Took it With Sleight of Hand: Why would she mention it to Teruko then. Just grab it, pocket it and shut up. I don’t think this works.

+It’s Not the Gym’s Tape on the Spinny Thing: Then, narratively, why would Rose bring attention to it when she goes to the gym with Teruko?

Alright, I believe that’s all the major things.

Probability Ranking

Zero Chance:

-MonoTV, Arei: There are rules against this.

-Xander, Min: Xander’s dead, Min’s in Mexico (/j).

-Teruko: Protag privilege. Also her handwriting sucks too much for her to fake the note.

-Charles: His necrophobia would prevent him from manipulating the body after killing Arei, which is necessary to string her up on the swing set.

First Assumption: The Murder Happened at 7:30 AM the Day of Body Discovery

Although this isn’t technically 100% confirmed yet, I personally find it really hard to believe that the time of death is different from this. This eliminates:

-David, Veronika, J: Alibis. They have no reason to cover for each other, so they’re out.

-Hu, Nico: I believe Hu is currently the most popular pick for blackened, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why. Yes, she could be lying about the alibi, but if Nico calls her out, it’s curtains. Is Nico really willing to die for Hu? Is Hu willing to kill everyone, including Nico, to escape? Conversely, if Nico’s the blackened, is Hu aware of what she’s doing by faking an alibi? I doubt it given EP12, so she’d be lying because she has faith in Nico. But, at present, I have no reason to believe that. “It’s plausible” isn’t evidence. Sorry, but I cannot for the life of me see Hu or even Nico as culprits anymore.

Second Assumption: MonoTV Didn’t Take the Tape from the Gym

Though technically an assumption, since there is zero evidence it did this, I’ll say it’s an assumption regardless. It leads to:

Third Assumption: The Killer Took The Tape

As stated, if it wasn’t MonoTV, it kinda has to be either Ace or Eden. If the killer didn’t take the tape, that means either they asked Ace/Eden for the tape beforehand (insane, it’s much safer to take the tape yourself) or Eden/Ace took the tape for some undisclosed reason, then someone else asked them for it. But since we don’t know what Eden or Ace would want the tape for other than murder, this also seems unlikely. Thus, assumption number three is assumed, and eliminates…

-Levi, Rose, Arturo, Whit, and all the prior characters (minus Teruko ig). Yes, I believe the tape works as a smoking gun in the same way that the building map worked as a smoking gun against Min.

Notably, all the new characters here also fail to explain why the method was unnecessarily complicated, since none of them know about the Ace murder method. The exception is Whit, where the purpose could be the “See No Evil” technicality, but that comes with a lot of assumptions itself, and there’s other problems with Whit!Culprit (namely, fish).

And Then There Were Two

Ace and Eden are, in my opinion, far and above the likeliest candidates for blackened in this case. Both of them have their issues as theories, but both have things going for them. Let’s compare and contrast!

Point for Eden: Starch on Clothes

One point that’s Eden specific is an idea originated from thebadjoe’s mind. Since starch can be used as fertilizer, it’s possible the starch holding the ball of clothes together came from the enriched formula used in the relax room. If this is the case, the clothes must have been left there in either the first or second night of the second chapter, as putting them there during the third night would make them inaccessible before the murder. And Eden was seen acting suspicious in the dressing room, where clothes are, on the second night.

Eden: W-Who’s there? I know you’ve been following me!

[…]

Eden: Oh, it’s just you, Teruko. What are you doing here?

Like, why’s she so paranoid?

This isn’t disqualifying for Ace, however, as he could have done this the very first night. Alternatively, it’s possible Teruko misidentified the starch. There’s just no evidence for it, as opposed to Eden doing the thing, where there is evidence for it.

Workaround Needed (Eden): “See No Evil”

Eden is part of the BDA crew, meaning there needs to be a workaround for Rule 10. If Levi’s not there to accomplice it up, then “See No Evil” is the only acceptable workaround in my eyes.

Now, I fully believe that, no matter what, Eden probably would turn her back the moment Arei’s neck snapped. She didn’t want to look at Xander’s eye wound, so it’s plausible she would just not want to look when Arei actually died. Which means we just need the “See No Evil” technicality to work from a rules standpoint.

And while it may be a sticking point for some people, I personally think that a combination of MonoTV’s incompetence and Teruko’s bad luck could cause this technicality to exist. Especially given:

Eden [Right before the BDA]: Teruko, wait—

This reaction is best justified by Eden!Culprit imo. If Eden’s the culprit, I don’t think she realized the “See No Evil” technicality. She couldn’t refuse to search with Teruko, obviously, that would make her too suspicious, but she still didn’t want Teruko to open the door because she thought the BDA wouldn’t play, as she would think she’d be counted as a witness. But who knows.

Point Against Eden: Eden’s Strength

By far the biggest sticking point against Eden!Solo under my murder method. She is canonically the weakest in the cast, and yet, she still needs to pull off four important feats of strength; throwing the ball of clothes, subduing Arei, pulleying her up, and hanging her body afterwards.

The thing is, even though Eden is “the weakest,” we… don’t have a good reference of how strong or weak she actually is. Eden’s still an adult woman, she doesn’t have to be hopelessly weak. So, how much do we have to suspend our disbelief on her strength?

Well, pulleys are powerful, and even though we are not dealing with an ideal pulley by any means, I think it’s reasonable Eden would be able to pulley Arei up. Obviously impossible to prove one way or the other, though. I also believe there’s a good argument that she’d be able to subdue Arei because, well…

Apparently, Eden’s a better fighter than any of us could have expected. If she’s able to rip out Xander’s eye with a fork, I think she’d be able to strangle Arei unconscious. Especially given there’s precedent for her making people fall to the ground by taking them by surprise.

(This is a silly point, but it exists)

The big ones are actually the ball of clothes and the hanging of Arei’s corpse on the swing set. Keep in mind she doesn’t just need to throw the ball of clothes (or something like it) over the rafters, but also do it with enough force to displace the lights. That’s kinda difficult. As for the hanging… well, that’s one of the reasons I started believing Levi!Accomplice in the first place, and why I put the broom where I did in the Ace method. It’s pretty difficult to tie a knot on the swing set with Arei as dead weight.

An accomplice does solve this, but with the recent insight we’ve gotten on Levi, I struggle to see anyone actually accomplice-ing it up, frankly.

Ace is stronger than Eden; in fact, he’s one of the stronger in the cast. He would have no issues doing all this, theoretically.

Well, physically, he’d have no issues. Intellectually…

Workaround Needed (Ace): Reason for Murder Method

But, hold on. I said that Ace, if he’s the killer, is probably using the mechanism to frame Nico, right?

Here’s the thing; that would imply he knows what Nico’s mechanism was. Or at least, has a vague idea. However, he was unconscious the entire time he was being attacked.

This would mean that after just waking up and with severe injuries, he managed to get a good enough look at the crime scene that he managed to figure out more or less what Nico did to him. And either he did that instantly, or he grabbed the tape for who knows what reason and later thought back and realized what happened to him.

Look, if Eden’s strength is a point against her, we also have to consider Ace’s intelligence. He is not figuring out what happened to him, and I struggle to think he’d even conceive of the idea of replicating Nico’s method to frame them.

That means he needs a different reason for doing the murder with the pulley method, and I can’t think of any. Not saying it doesn’t exist, just that it really does need a workaround that I am not able to find.

Workaround Needed (Eden): Fish Heist

As stated above, Eden desperately needs some way around the fact she has an alibi for the time the fish presumably disappeared. Here are the possible workarounds, and why they’re iffy.

+Early Nico Dinner: Unsatisfying to me, as I think it makes more sense for Nico to eat dinner with Hu and Eden, but one of the more plausible options. There’s a really tight time frame for Eden to grab the fish if Nico ate earlier, but it’s doable. It’s unfortunate we have no frame of reference for when Nico actually fed the fish.

If it helps, the fact that Eden and Hu’s alibi has such a specific start time (their dinner, 7:00 PM) could be because it’s going to be relevant, suggesting this might be the real answer.

+Fake Fish: No established way for Eden to pull this off. It’s possible, but there’s no evidence for it.

+Early Catch: One of the better answers, though it runs into a bit of an issue. It would mean Eden was planning around a murder the entire chapter. She doesn’t necessarily need to have the whole method in mind, just the trick with the fish, but she’s still gotta have been planning something. The problem is, in CH 2 EP 1, she says this:

Eden: If everyone else is feeling down in the dumps, then it’s my job to get their spirits back up! That’s how we’ll get out of here! By working together!

This is said to no one, she’s talking to herself. Which is very strange if she’s going to be grabbing fish for a potential murder just a few hours later.

There’s a few workarounds for this workaround’s issue, though:

*Eden could have grabbed the fish for non-murdery purposes. No idea what they’d be though, so that’s not great.

*She hadn’t decided to murder yet, but had it as a backup plan if she couldn’t find any other way to get out in the meantime. Uh… maybe? I struggle to see it, but it could work. She does talk about plans to escape a lot.

*The secrets spurred her into murdery action. Now, I really doubt Eden would kill to hide she’s a lesbian (not to dismiss the fact that everyone should be allowed to come out only when they’re ready, David), but there’s a detail learnt in chapter 13 that makes this workaround workaround more plausible: Veronika’s secret is not the worst thing she’s done. As a result, it’s not impossible that Eden has a worse secret than what Charles received, and MonoTV just didn’t pick it for some reason. This feels like a copout, frankly, but it’s technically plausible even if I don’t see any real evidence for it.

As you can see, the workarounds are far from perfect. However, it’s not just Eden who struggles with the fish.

Point Against Ace: Fish Paradox

It’s generally assumed the killer used the fish to make the cast believe the murder happened before nighttime, possibly between 7:30 PM and 10:00 PM specifically if they were banking on people finding the note. The problem is that Ace doesn’t benefit from this, as he has no alibi at that time. Getting the fish water is objectively harder than just getting water from the kitchen sink at nighttime or something, so why would he do it?

This is what we DRDT theorists* call the fish paradox. Any character who benefits from people thinking the murder happened before nighttime, only benefit because they have an alibi around 7:30-10PM. But assuming Nico fed the fish around 7:00 PM, that means they couldn’t have taken the fish. But if they could have taken the fish, that’s only because they don’t have an alibi around that time, which means they don’t benefit from taking the fish.

*Only I call it this. Don’t fall for my lies, there is no “we” :v

Ace falls into the second category: could have taken the fish in the time it’s assumed they were taken, but he doesn’t benefit from it. As a result, you need to give an alternate explanation for why the fish are there, and I can’t find one.

This paradox is what makes many, like me, believe there is some kind of trick around when the fish disappeared, be it an accomplice or some other workaround. Which lines up with Eden, but not Ace.

Workaround Needed (Eden): Handwriting

Straightforward, already explained it. She wrote in print during the trial, meaning the sample is unfit for comparison with the letter, written in cursive. I don’t think this is a problem.

You wanna know a bigger problem?

Point Against Ace: Teruko’s Live Reaction

This entire debate, the entire reason these two are the most likely culprits in my mind, is because they’re the only two who could have reasonably taken the tape from the gym, and the only real purpose of doing so would be murder.

But there’s a glaring issue. Logistically speaking, I find it almost impossible to believe Ace took the tape. Why? Because ever since the moment Ace woke up, logically, Teruko’s attention should have been on him. And since she’s the PoV character in that scene, if Ace grabbed the tape, we should have heard of it. Since we didn’t, Ace most likely didn’t.

It’s this point, more than any other, that makes me believe Eden is the culprit. The only way to make Ace!Culprit work taking this into account is assuming Teruko pulled the same thing she did with Arei’s body swinging; she saw it and didn’t say anything. But that’s different, because we actually saw the swinging ourselves as well; if Ace picked up the tape, and Teruko saw it, we should have gotten clarification.

Argument Bullet Round!

+Eden’s Newfound Plot Relevance: Some have claimed that the fact Eden is seemingly the one to have taken out Xander’s eye means she must remain alive for that plot point to remain relevant. However, uh, there’s another person in the pre-prologue scene where Xander loses an eye.

And that’s Xander.

Who’s dead.

If plot relevance didn’t save him, I doubt it’ll save Eden. If anything, DRDT has a habit of killing off characters the moment the overarching plot catches up to them.

+Heels: Hu mentions walking with heels in the playground can scuff the floor, and Ace wears heels (I think). However, walking on heels wouldn’t generate the scuff marks we saw, so I believe it’s a moot point.

+Not A “Good Person”: In this chapter, which has the hidden title “A Good Person”, Levi, Eden, Teruko, David, and Xander have been called “a good person.” Given the hidden title, it’s speculated this list is about characters who in some way tie into the themes of the chapter, so the blackened should be included. Ace has not ever been referred to as a “good person,” and I can’t see him being called that this late into the trial. Not the strongest argument, but it’s there.

+Motive: Much has been written about Eden’s potential motivations, but at least we know she has always had an interest in escaping the killing game one way or another. Additionally, it’s very possible Eden didn’t believe Arei actually meant what she said during the Arturo situation, as she wasn’t present during the playground breakdown where her secret was revealed; and might be regretting her murder now that there’s evidence she genuinely wanted to change. If you want a more detailed explanation, I suggest you read venus’ fantastic Eden!Culprit Narrative Defense and the “can Eden still be the culprit?” section of accirax’s ep 13 reactions (which also summarizes the relevant parts of the first post), which explain this idea in more detail.

Meanwhile, Ace… probably wants to escape as much as anyone else, but he’s not ultra pressed about it. No particular grudge against Arei, either. I can’t think of a good motive for him, but maybe there will be one revealed later in the trial.

+Thematic Connection: Arei and Eden are recap foils, obviously they have plenty of narrative and thematic connections to make this murder narratively meaningful. Meanwhile, while Ace and Arei are similar in some aspects, I can’t really think of any themes which could be meaningfully explored with him as the killer. That might be the bias talking though lol.

And more but I think I’ve made my point.

So, despite everything, I still believe Eden is the culprit. Maybe our girl is stronger than we expected?

Conclusion

I still think Eden!Culprit is the most likely option we have, just that I now consider Eden!Solo more likely than Levi!Accomplice. That said, even with the things I brought up at the start, I’d say Levi!Accomplice is still more likely than Ace!Culprit, while Ace!Culprit is massively more likely than the third most likely culprit. Who is… I don’t know, Whit?

There’s been a few changes to accommodate the things discussed in the trial: Arei got splashed with water at some point, the rope was tied to a handlebar instead of there being a stopper, and the grippy tape was so the rope wouldn’t slide off.

Aside from that, there’s been a few modifications to my theory to accommodate Eden!Solo. Using the reveal of Eden ripping out Xander’s eye as a basis, I think Eden would realistically be able to strangle Arei unconscious by ambushing her, and potentially strong enough to pull off everything else she needs to, though I get how that may be a point of contention. Eden must have also faked her handwriting in the trial, looked away in the moment of death to cause the “See No Evil” technicality, and something’s fishy with the fish. Either she grabbed them day one, or Nico had an earlier dinner than expected; at this point, I think it’s impossible to tell.

The changes for the Ace-Nico thing were outlined in full earlier, all that’s left in that front is to see how wrong I am about it this Friday! :D

All in all, there haven’t been as many changes as I expected. In fact, the majority of this post is just me repeating stuff I already brought up in other posts, but applied to more people. Hope it doesn’t feel like I talked more than necessary.

Anyways, thanks for reading! If you made it this far, you deserve to treat yourself and buy a cute clock that you like! See ya’!

[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.

[hendersister]

cruel summer

summary: steve gives you a ride home after a late night working at the mall.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: cruel summer by bananarama

It’s summertime. While most of your friends are spending the season outside and relaxing under the sun, you’re stuck working inside all day at Starcourt Mall. You got a job at Waldenbooks because you’re trying to save up money to buy a car. You’re about to enter your senior year at Hawkins High and you want to be able to drive yourself to school instead of bumming rides off of friends.

At least you’re not completely alone at the mall. Steve Harrington works at Scoops Ahoy, which isn’t too far from Waldenbooks. Sometimes when things are slow at the bookstore, you go down to the ice cream parlor to hang out with Steve. 

You became friends with Steve last fall around the same time that your little brother, Dustin, started bonding with him. But you think that working at the mall has really brought you and Steve closer together. Over the past few weeks, you two have been seeing each other on a daily basis. Steve’s face lights up every time he sees you walk into Scoops Ahoy and it always makes your day when Steve visits you at Waldenbooks. You and Steve genuinely enjoy spending time together. 

Whenever you’re both working late, Steve offers to give you a ride home. The last bus always leaves as soon as the mall closes and most of the time you need to stay later. Tonight is one of those nights. You’re working OT, re-organizing a bookshelf after some kids moved several titles around, and Steve has to stay late waiting for a shipment. The delivery driver is running way behind schedule.

By the time you finish work, the mall is closed. You go downstairs to Scoops Ahoy. Just as you arrive, you see Steve walking out of the ice cream parlor. 

“You ready to go?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

You watch him pull down the security gate and lock it. Then you two make your way to the exit. No one else is around and most of the lights are off except for the big neon signs outside of the stores. You love it when the mall is closed because it's so quiet and calm.

“You know, I think I prefer the mall like this,” you say.

“Me too,” Steve agrees.

You and Steve walk together across an almost empty parking lot until you reach his red BMW. He gets in the driver’s seat and you sit shotgun. You keep your eyes on the rearview mirror, watching Starcourt getting smaller and smaller as Steve drives away.

“I feel like I need to enjoy this time alone with you while I still can. Because when Dustin gets back from camp, you’re gonna want to spend all your time with him insead,” you joke.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s not true. I’ll still wanna hang out with you too...”

You look down at your lap, hoping Steve doesn’t see you blush.

“Truth is, hanging out with you these past few weeks has been the best part of my job. Scoops Ahoy totally sucks! The only reason I have this stupid job in the first place is because I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson. I make like $3 an hour slinging ice cream and I have no future…” Steve vents.

You shake your head.

“Don’t say that! You have a future,” you try.

“I just don’t want to be stuck in Hawkins forever…” Steve shrugs.

You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I get it… Honestly I think part of me wants a car so badly because I’m afraid I’ll never get out of Hawkins. That car is like my last ditch exit plan. I don’t want to be stuck here either,” you quietly admit.

Steve sighs, understanding. It’s comfortably quiet for a moment. And then-

“I forget about all that shit when I'm with you though…” Steve says.

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear. Steve looks at you and sees you blushing. You couldn’t hide it from him this time. You shyly smile back him and then change the subject-

“You should lose the sailor’s hat. It’s hiding your best feature,” you suggest.

Steve nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I know! It completely screws up my game. But I have to wear it… company policy,” he complains.

You slowly reach towards Steve.

“Well you’re off the clock now-”

You take the hat off Steve's head and toss it in the back seat.

“Much better,” you smile.

Steve smiles back at you. You look into each other’s eyes. You both feel the electricity in this moment. After a beat, Steve turns his focus back to the road. The car is approaching your street.

“Ok so I’ll just turn right and take you home…. Or I could keep going straight and then we’ll just be driving around town for a while,” Steve tells you.

Steve is having a good time. He doesn’t want this night to end. And neither do you.

“Keep going straight,” you nod.

[talkfastromance4]

If you still accept titles for the made-up fic title thingy:

"I wanna be that somebody for you."

This is very long! My imagination got away from me and I would LOVE to continue this story if you and others are interested!

Also couldn’t help myself and made a lil moodboard.

Enjoy!

***

You own a small flower shop inherited by your grandfather and you curated the floral arrangements for Penny and Maverick’s wedding. You were busy perfecting the bouquets and that’s when Jake saw you wearing a very pretty sundress with pink flowers on it. You even had a headband of flowers in your hair and he pictured you in a cottage with little woodland creatures surrounding you.

He admired your work ethic and the need for things to be exactly perfect with the arrangements.

“Excuse me,” he said approaching you, “could you help me with my boutonniere?”

You looked him over in his dress whites then glanced at the others behind him.

“Um, you don’t get them with your uniform.”

“Oh. I know,” he grinned, green eyes dancing.

“Then why would you ask–”

“I’m in another wedding. I’ll be wearing a regular civvy suit.”

“I see,” you nod gathering up the fallen stems and leaves from your work. “Shouldn’t the bride and groom be asking for those?”

“I’m the best man, they’ve entrusted me with it.”

“I see.”

He liked how curt you were with your responses.

“Well, I’d love to help but not while I’m in the middle of another wedding, sir.”

His eyebrows raised at the formality of ‘sir’ and only made his Cheshire grin widen.

“Wonderful, I’ll stop by tomorrow. When do you open?”

“Eight,” you sigh.

“I’ll see you at eight. And it’s Lieutenant, darlin’,” he winks then left you flabbergasted.

***

He’s already waiting outside the shop door by eight o’clock on the dot when you go to unlock them. He’s in his service khakis and you run through some options from most expensive to least. Then by category of flower and what season would be best for which flower. It wasn't until you pulled out a box of ribbon that he placed his hand over yours, you felt an electric current course through you.

He admits it was all a ploy.

“What? Why?” You ask then realization and anger clouds over your eyes. “So you can joke about it with your naval buddies? Get out of my store–”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand,” he holds up his hands in defense. “I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?”

“An arrangement,” he flashes a smile. “Come to dinner with me tonight and I’ll explain.”

“Like an arrangement of flowers?”

“No, sweetheart,” he shakes his head then slides his hands in his pockets. “I’ll have a car pick you up at seven. Wear something nice.”

He winks again then left.

Throughout the day you were thinking of the whole altercation. The smart, rational part of you knows you shouldn’t have dinner with him. But the curious part of you is intrigued by his cryptic meaning of ‘proposition’ and ‘arrangement’ and you wanted to know what it was.

It isn’t until your friend and coworker has come over with an armful of dresses for you to borrow that she jokingly suggests it might be a sex arrangement. You laugh along but the pit in your stomach and the warmth spreading in your ears signifies she might be right. You pick out a pretty black dress and the car arrives promptly at seven o’clock.

The Navy is prone to being good with time, you guessed.

A man named Reynolds opens the very sleek black SUV and asks what kind of music you’d like to listen to for the drive. Forty minutes later you’re in the Valley pulling up to the top five star restaurant in the state. A valet opens the door and gestures to you inside where a hostess greets you by name and leads you to the main room.

The Lieutenant is sitting at a white clothed table in a very nice suit. As soon as he saw you he stood up, eyes taking you and your dress in with a faint smile.

“Wow, as I live and breathe,” he drawls then pulls out your chair. He offers his hand for you to take as you sit down and he pushes you in a little bit. You murmur a thank you and take in the restaurant.

Men and women are wearing high-end clothes, luxury watches wink at you and diamonds sparkle amongst the candlelight. There’s a massive fireplace and chandeliers everywhere. When you look back at him, he’s already looking at you. You feel your cheeks warm.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments.

“Thank you. This is very…extravagant.”

He notices the nervous way you touch your hair and bite your lip. You take in how handsome he looks, his suit is crisp, his hair perfectly styled with a little bit of the bangs hanging over his forehead. There’s a start to a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin but it looks anything but rough to the touch.

“Y/N?” he asks and you notice a waiter is next to you.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Red or white, madam?” the waiter asks.

“For what?” your brain is a little behind because of the circumstance.

“Wine,” the Lieutenant smiles patiently.

“Oh. Right. Um…white.”

“A bottle of your best white wine and I’ll also have a whisky. Neat.”

When the waiter is gone you lean in closer to the table.

“What is all this?”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“No. I mean…your proposition?”

“It’s not time to talk about that yet,” he shakes his head then hands you a menu.

The drinks arrive and you take a hearty sip to ease your nerves. You nearly choke on probably the best wine you’ve ever had when you notice the prices. Some of them are in the hundred dollar range.

“Lieutenant–”

“Please, call me Jake.”

“Jake. these are very pricey–”

“Don’t worry about the cost, y/n,” he shakes his head. “Anything that looks good, please order it. And don’t go for the cheapest one.”

You glance over the top of your menu to see him giving you a knowing look because that’s what you were honestly planning to do.

After you finally order and drink some more wine, he starts to ask many questions. Your birthday, where you grew up, schooling, your favorite classes, friends, family, siblings. So many questions about you. When dessert is finished you’re holding the mug of coffee between your palms.

“Why do you want to know all this?” you ask.

“Penny told me how caring and open-hearted you are, how much you do for others. And how you help your grandmother. She said no one has really taken care of you.”

His green eyes are smoldering in the candlelight.

“Okay…” that didn’t really answer your question.

“I wanna be that somebody for you.”

“Be what?”

“I want to take care of you. Anything you need. Pay off your house, expand your flower shop,a new car. Whatever you need.”

You stare at him blankly trying to absorb his words then it hits you.

“You want to be a sugar daddy?” You hiss and nearly spill your cup of coffee. “I’m very capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I get by. I don’t even have a house! And what, you’d want to pay for things in exchange for sex? I’m not a hooker and that’s illegal!”

“Shh!” he hushes placing his hand over yours. His eyes are wild as he looks at the other occupants but they were none the wiser of your accusations. “No. Of course not.”

“I won’t send you feet pics either–”

“Y/N, Y/N, stop,” he’s earnest. “This is not what that is, I promise.”

“Then explain yourself better.”

“What I’m suggesting is that, I help you with some financial things and in return–” he gives you a look when you gasp–”in return, I ask that you be a companion. A date to Navy balls, family gatherings. We can have dinner as frequently as you’d like, or coffee, or nothing at all unless it’s for a function where I need you.”

“So not a sugar daddy–you aren’t even that much older than me, by the way!”

“I’m aware,” he nods patiently while you visibly flip out on him.

“So, what then? A piece of arm candy? I’m not the greatest–”

“You are. From what I’ve heard you are exactly right for me.”

“How? Why do you need a companion? You can have any person you’d want.”

“I can’t disclose that with you right now unless you agree. I’ll have paperwork set up–”

“Paperwork! Wait,” you lower your voice, peeking at your neighbors to make sure they’re not listening when you ask, “is this like a…a Fifty Shades of Grey thing? Are you like a Christian Grey?”

“Of course not,” he snorts, “I’m not into that, I’m not going to ‘own’ you. You picture me as Christian Grey?”

“No! You’re way hotter than he–” you clap your hand over your mouth but he smiles. “So, no whips and chains or a play room?”

“No. Unless you’d want one,” he shrugs. “This is why I’m calling it an arrangement. You’re a good person who deserves to be taken care of.”

“You hardly know me, Jake. Or am I some kind of charity case? A means to a redemption arc you’re looking for? Have you murdered someone?”

“My, my, my, you certainly are entertaining,” he chuckles. “And quite the imagination.”

“I watch a lot of movies,” you sniff.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now, of course. But think about it. I have more than enough money and I give a good portion of it to charities I’m keen on. We can be as exclusive as you’d like or you can shoot a text and I’ll send money over for whatever it is you need.”

“And all you want back is for me to be a companion to you?”

“Yes.”

“Like a fake relationship?”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

You side eye him dubiously.

“Are you sure this isn’t some sort of sex thing? Is this a new kink I’ve never heard of?”

“Oh y/n, if it was I would have already pleasured you at your shop.”

“What?!” you squeak but he just smirks.

“That’s a discussion for another time, sweetheart. If you choose. I want you to know the ball is entirely in your court. I’ll have Reynolds drive you home but leave you with my card…” he pulls out his wallet and slides a business type looking card with his name on it and a number underneath.

Your mind is racing, your palms are sweaty and you feel warm all over because you never in a million years would have expected this type of predicament.

“It’s late, I know you need to be up early tomorrow,” he pulls away from the table and you stand automatically following him out the restaurant in a daze.

Reynolds opens the door but Jake grabs your elbow and turns you around to face him. He’s wearing a very fresh smelling cologne, it clears your nose and makes your head swim because it gives off the aura of sophistication and wealth. Your head doesn’t even come up to his chin so you really have to move your head up to look at him.

“Think it over. I’ll send over the papers so you can examine it. Call or text or email if you have any questions. I want to be that somebody you can rely on and call on whenever you need it. Okay?”

“Okay,” you gulp.

“Good. Have a good night, Y/N,” he bends down to kiss your cheek then helps you climb into the car. “Reynolds will also be your driver. He knows where to bring you to me when and if you’re ready.”

He closes the door and your head is still swimming going in a million different directions. Your cheek is tingling from the softness of his lips, the insides of your thighs are burning because you’re thinking of what he said earlier. How he could have pleasured you in your flower shop. The curious part of you was very curious about that.

[gvtted-ratz]

read all our tags/ratings. they are important and give you all u need to decide if you wanna actually read or not. do not like the tags/rating? do not read.

FEM ALIGNING/IDENTIFYING PPL (unless mutuals/friends) DNI WITH OUR MLM WORKS. fem ppl can still request tho. respect our wishes or get blocked. yes we do read/check everything. we tag appropriately/use tags that go with our posts.

want 2 request? find the rules: here!

want 2 see all the fics? find em: here!

Come On, Now

Brahms Heelshire x Masc!Reader

Last Edited: 27/03/2024

TW: none

Anon: Brahms with (male or masc) reader making him leave the house? Can be either fic or Drabble idc

Word Count: 589

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes from @gvtted-ratz (writer/creator): We can do that, yes. We decided on a drabble (few hundred words) since we do believe, no matter what, Brahms probably would never leave his home (as is shown in the movie since he does not chase after Greta when she escapes before coming back). Hence, not it being a fic. Hope you enjoy. Another title is “Brahms touches grass for the first time in 20 years.”

Notes from @rppik (editor/co-writer): in which we make the lad touch grass.

Convincing the man to leave his own home is more trouble than you’d like to admit. It’s like a game of tug of war with a large mutt. Upon first suggesting he get some air, he'd reply with a pitiful, “Tomorrow?” in his practised child voice. Any attempt at insisting upon it gets shut down with him responding curtly, in his regular voice, “Not now.” And, well, arguing with him when he switches into his natural, gruff tone of voice is like trying to move a particularly fussy mountain. Until today, that is– not even Brahms is immune to persistent, well-meaning urges from his dear “nanny.”

“Are you sure I have to do this?” It’s a whining voice, one a child usually resorts to using when they can’t get their way. The man's uncanny ability to mimic a child's voice surely adds to that effect, also.

“Yes, Mr. Heelshire. It's for the best you step outside after so long. Not only have you never helped me with the rat traps, but you’ve never even been in the garden,” you finish with a sigh, already tired from this entire interaction. You’ve read that being cooped up in a place for too long can impact one’s health. That's why you’re trying to get Brahms to at least step outside his home for only a few minutes.

“Well, I don’t want to.” His bratty tone doesn’t match his large, tense frame.

“Come On, Now. Surely I’m not that bad of company,” you retort, not allowing him to try and back out.

“You are when you’re trying to be awful,” is his answer, tone cracking halfway through his sentence.

“Awful or not, your parents entrusted me in your care. This is part of the job. Now you’ll listen, or you won’t get a goodnight kiss. I’ll take it off the list for the day.” This seems to work, as Brahms has no more fighting words to give you. You grab ahold of his hand and start to tug him along to the back door. He follows with no protest, the warmth of his hand making yours sweat slightly.

Opening the door, you lead Brahms onwards, the sound of his heaving breathing and your footfalls echoing about as you both descend the steps. You don’t take him to the garden, instead leading him to one of the rat traps, sticking close to the house. You know he would freak out if you took him too far from his safe space and prison.

“See, Mr. Heelshire? This isn’t terrible now, is it?” He doesn’t respond, instead looking up at one of the many windows of the home. The one that has caught his eye has black smudges around it, evidence of a past fire from many years ago; it was before your time here at the house.

“No. It’s not bad. Thank you, Mr. [Redacted],” is his answer. At the prefix, you huff in amusement.

“Being polite won’t get you flattery, Mr. Heelshire. After all, you never use ‘Mr.’ when referring to me. Ever since the beginning of our time together.” After inhaling and holding it for a moment, you release the breath before turning towards the man. “We can go now. I only wanted you to experience outside without being trapped in that dusty house all the time. I’ve heard it helps with your health.”

With those words, you and Brahms head back inside. You can only hope he’ll allow you to make this a daily thing. You just want what’s best for him.

[leclsrc]

Heyyy, congrats on 2000! ❤️❤️

I have a request for Carlos + [ FIVE CALLS ].

what i feel for you – cs55

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, title from this

send for five times the receiver nearly calls the sender and the one time they do.

You’d told him the night prior about your date, gave him the usual crash course that came with these flings. He made a joke about how you should take advantage of the handsome men in Madrid, even if his heart felt like a giant foot had just smashed it. Because, Carlos reminds himself as he awaits your text again, he’s supposed to be a good friend.

It’s a weird label, friends. It’s a label for a relationship that’s something else entirely. Yeah, he’s your closest friend, but he’s here hoping you don’t pursue a second date. Yeah, you two are best friends, but you sleep in the same bed on cold nights during the season even if there are two in the hotel room.

His phone dings. Went like shit,you text. I’m in a pissy mood :(

Lando would tell him to take the chance while he can, like this is God or whoever giving him a sign to finally try and do it. And Carlos would say no, Lando, we’re just friends even if the younger guy would 100% be right. He swipes on your contact, hovers his thumb over the telephone icon, tries to picture how all this would go. 

You’d sigh, pick up in the middle of the third ring, be all I’m okay, Carlos in an effort to save yourself the sympathy, but he isn’t here for sympathy—he’s here to tell you he likes you. In the stronger way, in that way. What? I like you, he’ll insist. Come to mine and I’ll let you know how much.

Think I’ll go for drinks somewhere first Carlito, don’t wait up. He swipes off your contact, texts back OK, and waits for you all night.

—

When you’re a hotshot in Formula 1, you’re bound to be pushed into the face of a myriad of journalists. 

There’s clicking, flash, rehearsed questions Carlos still answers. They all ask the same shit, you’d think they all belonged to one magazine. But he braves through it anyway, tries to let the answers vary so he doesn’t sound as robotic as they do. But there are a few questions that have stuck to him.

“I imagine racing is the love of your life,” chirped the journalist, who he could barely see behind the shadow of the huge TV camera beside her. “Would you agree?” He’d hummed, gauging the possible answers: there was the easy yes, which would’ve made a good impression on racing fans seeing him in Toro Rosso for the first time; there was the no, which might’ve been a bit too dicey.

“It’s very important to me, but it’s not the love of my life.” Carlos decided finally, laughing.

“Playing coy, I see!” She exclaimed.

But the truth was, Carlos wasn’t “playing coy.” He really didn’t name racing the love of his life—because there’s only one thing that enters his mind when he thinks of the phrase, and he wished to save the phrase for that and that only. Racing is fast, it’s passionate and rapid fire, but that—it’s so different.

He almost tells you about it a few years later, when he’s exhausted from Ferrari media day and the memory replays in his head. You’re in Asia for work right now, so he hopes the call he’s about to place will go through anyway.

He’s smiling, walking to his car, and line is just about to ring when he realizes—how can he tell you the story, if it means admitting you were the answer?

—

Everyone has high tolerance until it comes to tequila. At least Carlos thinks so—the state he’s in is definitely not sober and Lando, across him, is in even worse shape. They’ve drained a whole bottle at this point, laughing back and forth and dancing to the music at the bar.

“I’m only serving tequila at my future wedding,” belches Lando, wearing a pair of sunglasses neither of them owns.

“Amen.” Carlos squints at the thought of marriage, pulls out his phone and finds your name under the Favorites section of his contacts. The cheeky little shit Lando catches on immediately, whistling a high teasing tune to get under Carlos’ skin.

“I say ‘wedding’ once and already you’re off calling her,” he quips. “I better be best man.”

“We’re just friends,” he slurs, smelling Cuervo on his breath. “You know.”

The line rings once, twice—Carlos opens his mouth and says “Hello? Did you know I…”

He passes out before he gets to the rest of it.

—

The drivers make a night’s trip around the city, and they stop at the Trevi Fountain.

“Throw a coin in and you return to Rome,” Charles says factually, like he’s their tour guide or something.

“Does it allow normal wishes?” Carlos, already amused, presses the phone icon near your name to tell you what he’s up to. The spotty signal slows the call. 

“Depends. What are you wishing for?”

“Her.” Lando points at your name on Carlos’ phone.

He hangs up. “A world champion title, actually,” he lies.

—

“Hey Carlito, I’m on my way to the room.”

“With pizza?” Lando hollers into the speakerphone. Carlos laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Yes, obviously,” you say, but your voice is laggy through the phone. You’ve visited them in Italy for the weekend, taking a break from work to meet your best friend again after weeks of being apart. And of course Lando and Carlos sort of came as a package deal these days, so you dealt with him, too.

Carlos takes you off speaker after you say your byes and see-you-soons, pocketing his phone. The Brit doesn’t miss a beat in teasing him. “Dude! Even your voice sounds so down bad, mate.”

“It does not.” Carlos doesn’t even know what down bad means. 

“Low it! You’ve loved this girl for how the fuck long and you’re never going to tell her, will you?”

“How do you tell a friend you love them?” Carlos sighs. “It’s—dios mio, it’s difficult. I’m in love with her but it’s a risk to think she feels the same. And”—Lando opens his mouth to protest—“yeah, yeah I know that’s love, I know that’s the whole point, but I couldn’t live with myself if I lost a friend because of these estupido feelings.”

Two raps sound on the door, and he gets up to let you in. “Okay? So shut up.”

Lando watches his friend swing the door open, and sees you on the other side holding up your phone.

AA Carlito, it says, signifying the call was never hung up. You smile. “The feelings aren’t that estupido.”

[shoot-the-oneshot]

Best Of Both Worlds

Love triangle Carlos Sainz x Reader x Marc Marquez

If it isn’t my favorite media girl!” Carlos shouted seeing you standing outside the redbull garage. Rushing over to give you a hug. You had both met when Carlos drove for Redbull you were with the brands media team rather than the racing team so while it wasn’t often he saw you here it wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he would admit he drove better when he knew you were watching.

“My parents have been asking when you’re coming over for dinner again?” The Ferrari driver spoke not letting you go as he whispered in your ear. He knew you’d rather keep your on and off relationship between the both of you, which he was fine with, except for one issue.

“Sainz, been a while.” and there was the issue also known as Moto GPs Marc Marquez. Who despite the wide smile on his face as he cozied up next to you sent daggers to the other Spaniard. Who was more than happy to play along.

“Marc i didn’t know you still raced?” He spoke with fake enthusiasm but the look of disappointment you shot him made him feel a small twinge of regret. Marcs shoulders stiffened. “I took a season off for injury yes, but I’m back now.” His words were clipped not wanting to start one of their classic back and fourths in front of you.

Releasing a breath when one of Marcs bike mechanics called him over, he begrudgingly left you alone with Carlos. Who’s eyes narrowed at you immediately.

“Carlos.” You sighed already knowing where this was heading. “I can’t believe you brought him to my race.” He spat the word ‘him’ like it was poison on his tongue. His hand ran through his hair in an attempt to calm down.

“I didn’t bring him Carlos, Redbull wants him to race Max I’m just doing my job.” He knew that, he did but he hated that you worked closer with Moto GP, and in turn Marc. Carlos often wished he would’ve signed any contract Toro Rosso would’ve put in front of him if it would’ve kept you closer.

Knowing that he didnt mean to snap at you, you sighed softening your tone reaching to rub his arm. “I have to get back to work but good luck with the race, i’ll be cheering for you.” His smile that you loved broke through his perused lips as you kissed his cheek.

“I want another one of those when i win.” He sang cockily as he walked backwards towards Ferrari still keeping eye contact making you laugh as he almost tripped. Entering the Redbull garage you saw Marc shooting you glances from his conversation with Max Verstappen, while Carlos made his dislike for the rider more apparent Marc hid it better but you could see a little unease in his eyes when Carlos got a little two close.

“Wish me luck Amore.” Marc winked, straddling his bike before pealing out to meet Verstappen on the starting line.

When you started working for Redbull you were placed with MotoGP, Repsol to be exact, Marc who was already a multiple world title holder quickly befriended you seeing how out of place you felt, and made you feel like part of their little family.

Then you got a chance to shadow F1 where you met Carlos, and while it broke your heart leaving Repsol, Carlos helped ease the pain, and you became close to both men, spending the off season split between the two you were best friends, until it became clear they wanted more. That’s where it got complicated.

You sighed, letting your mind wander to the first summer you spent with Carlos in Spain.

“I’m going to have a tan line of your hand if you don’t move.” You hummed in relaxation as the boat rocked gently on the waves practically begging sleep to take you and it would’ve if the constant movement of Carlos’s thumb rubbing against your skin didn’t set it ablaze.

“Now why would I move, you know I like my marks on you.” His voice dripping with every ounce of that Spanish passion he possessed, leaning down to press wet kisses across your spine. Water dripping down on you from his hair a stark contrast to the heat coming off him.

Flipping over gazing up at him the golden hour sun bouncing off his skin making it appear as if he was glowing. And if anyone asked he’d agree he felt like he was glowing from the inside out whenever he was around you. From the second he was introduced to you he fell hard, like every hit romance movie ever made.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You asked feeling almost insecure under his intense gaze. He laughed softy, shaking his eyes before reconnecting your eyes.

“I just can’t wait for the future, I’ll get a contract with a bigger team maybe McLaren or Ferrari and you can come with me, traveling the world together. Doesn’t that sound perfect.” His eyes lit up with his excitement while yours did the opposite. While it sounded amazing you knew it wasn’t guaranteed.

“You know I was only shadowing for this season Carlos, I don’t know where I’ll end up after that.” You hated how he visibly deflated for a moment before perking back up.

“Then I’ll sign with Redbull and put it in my contact that you come with me!”

“It will work!” He defended when you laughed. Reaching to cup his cheek. “We’ll see.”

Words can’t describe how happy you were to be back at the hotel and lounge in bed. Just as you got comfortable your phone dinged.

Marc: ‘Come up to my room there’s something I want to show you <3.’

Your heart skipped a beat seeing his contact photo that you took of him when you brought him to your home town after he practically begged you to show him where you came from, wanting to learn as much about you as he could.

You took him to your favorite spot one the one with memories where the smile wouldn’t come off your face and you made him take a selfie with you to see who’s smile was bigger, knowing he was known for his among his fans.

You were surprised to see it was on the same floor as your room figuring Redbull would’ve given him a penthouse for the duration of his stay.

“Mi amor, you came!” His signature smile clear across his face as he stepped aside for you to come in, wrapping you in his arms the second you did. Unable to help yourself you sunk into his arms the comfort you felt overwhelming.

When he pulled back it was just far enough to look into your eyes. “Come.” He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead gently pulling you by your hand to the balcony. As you looked around you noticed it was the same layout as your room. He blushed when you mentioned it. Giving you a little shrug. “I always make sure you get the best rooms you’re an important part of the team.”

The scene on the balcony took your breath away and despite it being late and him in matching attire your sweats and T-shirt feel very underdressed for the fairy lights he strung up, your favorite dessert set in the center of the little table overlooking the beautiful city scape.

Marc was anxiously watching your reaction as you took it in. Marc didn’t fall for you the second he saw you like in the books you read. Instead it came like a tsunami slowly at first as he got to know you then it hit him with how incredible you are and how he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

Pulling your chair out for you waving off your thanks ‘I’ll make every single day special when we’re together’ he said in his head.

As you both ate you made small talk saying everything and nonsense at the same time. The air was light until Marc paused with a sigh and nodded to your shirt. Confused you looked down and cursed, Carlos’s old redbull shirt.

“I’m so sorry it must’ve gotten mixed in with my work shirts I didn’t mean to.” You rushed out hoping he knew it was honestly a mistake.

Marc stood just enough to pull his chair closer to yours and grabbed both your hands in his. Looking so deep into your eyes you were almost worried at what he’d see.

“I’d never make you do this but I’ve been wanting to say it.” Marc paused making sure he had your full attention.

“If you ever have to choose between me and him.” Swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in his throat at what he was about to say. “Pick who makes you happy, even if it’s not one of us, you and I will be fine we were friends before and we will be after so don’t worry about that. Just…just be as happy as I am when I’m with you.”

The truth behind his eyes made yours start to tear up, you knew deep down you’d have to pick one day and now it felt like the hours are ticking down.

At the same moment unbeknownst to either of you a knock sounded at your hotel room down the hall the ponding raising in volume the longer it went one making your coworker in the next room peak out. She sighed seeing the Ferrari driver.

“Hey Susan right?” Carlos asked snapping his fingers when he remembered her name. “Do you know where Y/n is?”

His shoulders dropped the longer it took her to respond, his lips pursed. “She’s with Marc isn’t she?” Susan looked away giving him his answer. “Unbelievable.” He huffed storming back to his room.

The next day Carlos was on a mission, he had spent all night and early morning making phone call after phone call email after email. Carlos knew Honda would’ve put Marc in the Redbull VIP section to watch the race and that’s exactly where he found him. “We need to talk.” Marc almost jumped at the sudden hand landing on his shoulder.

Standing from his stool he motioned for Carlos to lead the way, the paddock being his territory. Finding an empty hallway away from reporters that would love the drama between the two racers especially over that same girl. Carlos spun on his heels. Almost nose to nose with the other Spaniard.

“Stay away from my girl Marquez.” Marcs brows rose at the demand and laughed.

“She’s not your girl Sainz,”

“Well she’s sure as hell not yours!”

“Exactly!” The two men went silent as Marcs words settled between them only harsh breathes were heard. “She’s not mine and she’s not yours, she hasn’t picked one or the other.” Carlos snickers like he knew something the other man didn’t.

“Well she will have to soon. Ferrari is offering her a deal by the end of the weekend.” Carlos was about to storm off but was handed back by a now furious Marc.

“You can’t force her to choose, actually go ahead and do it run her straight into my arms, go on ahead!” Marc held his arm out welcoming the driver to walk past.

“If you’re so confident tell her to take the Ferrari gig its a good job i made sure.” He paused lowering his voice taunting leaning closer like he was sharing a secret. “You know, I think you are worried she’ll take it, because while she met you first, she fell for me first, must not be as good as you thought you were.”

Marc rolled his eyes, was the man that dumb, huffing out a breathe through his nose he set his hands on his hips. “And if you were more confident you wouldn’t have to offer her a different job to get her.”

Carlos laughed but a hint of truth was found in his words, he was worried, the frantic calls to Mattia and threats to quit were definitely acts of desperation. And he hated Marc could tell.

“I can give her more than you can.” Was his weak resort.

“Yeah, what can a 8 time world champion possibly give her?” Marc sarcastically nodded. Carlos clenched his jaw, and clenched his fist. Before he could swing he got yanked back by his cocked arm by Charles.

“What the hell?!” Charles shouted as Carlos struggled against him. Attracting attention to the once private hallway as more men ran in to break up the two racers. Both men froze at the new voice.

“What’s going on?” They both turned to look at you. Charles loosening his grip as Carlos froze, giving him the chance to break free and adjust his shirt, trying to play it off. “Nothing.” He shrugged.

Now that he had calmed down the Ferrari crew that came with Charles to find his teammate escorted Carlos out with them leaving you, Marc and a few other VIPs.

Marc walked passed you until you were shoulder to shoulder, not looking at you as he faces the wall behind you. “I take it back, don’t pick him.” He continued walking leaving you alone with a looming clock hanging over the three of you that just started ticking.

Next parts coming soon

Carlos Pick your choice Marc

Best of F1 Best of MOTOGP

Woah I loved this so much!! Hope you guys did too let me know in the comments. I love these two and loved writing this part two will be one for each so you get to pick. Coming soon

F1 masterlist Motogp masterlist

I included my F1 tags since Carlos is F1 obviously.

@starxqt @motylekrozi @yeolsbubbles @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mooone90 @damianodavidhands @zig-zzag @its-astrotea-love @peakywitch @obsessed-fan-alert @lenniebordeaux @marelovesf1 @capela-miranda @enjoymyloves

@amsofftrack @coffeehurricaness @speedysimp @jasondeservedbetter @chilwell-mount @buendiabebeta @dan3avacado @valkyrie418 @ricsaigaslecc

@idkiwantchocolatee

[sitkowski]

taste the wreckage (justin morrow x f!reader for ao3userfeistycadavers [stepsiblings au])

the last of my prompts, in which @ao3userfeistycadavers came to me with an idea and some brain worms, and this is what came out of it. this is my first time writing something like this, so i hope this lived up to what you were looking for! (10/10 would write again).

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ this is a STEPBROTHER/STEPSIBLING FIC! everyone is of age. warnings for (other than the obvious) oral fixation, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, finger sucking.

word count: 1.7k

title comes from "pussy sugar" by kittie. divider by @saradika-graphics

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

You arrive home at an ungodly hour, let yourself in through the basement. You’re not expecting your step brother to be asleep on the couch. He’s supposed to be touring across the midwest with his band. Creeping past him, you make your way down the hall to the bedroom that used to be yours, pushing the door closed. You wallow, you mope. You’d been together for almost two years, and somehow thought the relationship was going further than this . You manage to get something that resembles sleep, and when you drag yourself out of the room later on in the day, Justin is still there so you didn’t imagine him.

“You look like shit.” he says and if you didn’t know any better, he almost sounds concerned. Which is valid because you guys have had that kind of relationship where you can be mean to each other, but others can’t be mean to you. It’s been that way ever since your parents got married. “No, seriously, this isn’t your normal look. You look extra shitty. What’s up?”

“Don’t you have a boyband to be touring with? Why are you even home?” it’s not your best insult, even you can admit that.

“I asked you first. Don’t be a dick.”

“If you must know, my boyfriend broke up with me.”

You almost expect him to say something mean, but he just kind of stares at you. You steal his cup of coffee and he doesn’t even notice.

“What did you do?” he asks.

“What?” You glare at him, insulted that he’d think that you’re the reason the douchebag broke up with you. “How is this automatically my fucking fault?”

He snatches his cup back, “No, you idiot, what did you do to him after he broke up with you? You just let him get away with that shit?”

Scoffing, you go in search of your own coffee, not wanting to listen to him. The rest of the house is empty and you trudge up the stairs into the kitchen. He follows you, of course. You can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face as you fill your mug and finally you snap. “What the fuck did you want me to do? Slash his tires? Write a little emo song about him?”

Justin flicks your ear and you hiss, cracking him across the knuckles with the spoon you stirred your coffee with.

“I could kick his ass for you.” he offers and you roll your eyes.

“My hero,” you mutter. “If you leave right now you could probably find him. Don’t be fucking stupid, you’re not gonna go beat him up. I’ll be fine. I just need this weekend to get the fuck over myself.”

“Look, come hang out in my room. We’ll put on some movies, order some food, get high. By the time you go back to school, you won’t even remember him.”

Seeing as how your only other options seem to be hanging out alone in the basement or sitting around to see which one of your parents will arrive home first, you agree. He puts in an order for takeout and you grab a shower because you honestly still feel disgusting after the drive home and sleeping in your clothes. By the time you emerge, the food has already arrived.

Justin puts on a couple of the Saw movies and lets you disassociate. He talks about traps he’d put your ex in, you talk about traps you’d put him in. It’s exactly what you needed. After you eat, he pulls out his weed pen. You think he’ll just pass it over to you after he takes a hit, but he doesn’t. Instead he holds it up to your mouth for you. You blink up at him, not exactly understanding the way he looks from your eyes to your mouth and back again. 

It’s nothing new, you know this. The tension between the two of you, at least over the past few years. You’ve done your best to compartmentalize it, try to keep him in a category marked no. But it’s not as easy as it was when he was just the fifteen year old shithead who moved in with you and your dad. Five years later, he’s still a shithead, but he’s also something else.

Before you know it, it’s well after midnight. You’re stoned and sleepy and you’ve devoured the leftovers. Somehow, Justin’s convinced you to just crash in his bed. You don’t argue as much as you could, slipping beneath the covers next to him. The first thing you notice is the amount of body heat that he puts off, which isn’t actually something new to you. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep together. But when he wraps himself around you, spooning up behind you, it surprises you how easily you relax back into him. 

You shift around, trying to get comfortable, unintentionally pushing back into him. One of his hands clamps down on your hip suddenly, holding you still.

“Don’t.” he hisses, backing away just a little.

“What, I’m just trying to—” you stop short when you realize he might have moved, but he didn’t move far enough, you can still feel him hard against you. “Oh.”

“Just fucking stay still, it’ll go away in a minute.”

You stare at the wall, feel Justin’s breath against the side of your face as he speaks, and you make a choice, because it’s your choice to make. You push back into him, more insistently, rubbing yourself against him. And he obviously makes his own choice too, because he doesn’t try to keep you still again. He grinds into you, heavy body pressing you a little more firmly against the mattress. Neither of you say anything, Scream playing as background noise. Your head is fuzzy, but you want this. Heat pools in your gut, and you squeeze your thighs together.

“Can I do something?” he asks in your ear.

You nod, breathing a little heavier when he moves away from you long enough to pull you onto your back. He doesn’t say anything else, just crawls between your spread thighs. His hands hook beneath the waistband of your shorts and your underwear, pulling them both down at the same time. You kick them away, and it makes you blush the way he’s staring down at you. His eyes meet yours, an oddly vulnerable expression on his face, and you nod, just once.

It’s not anything special at first, you can admit that. His mouth trails up one of your thighs, and you feel the pressure of his lip piercing. You can’t look at him yet, keeping your eyes on the screen just over his shoulder. You know the fact that you don’t feel guilty about this should be alarming to you, but it isn’t. He doesn’t touch you more than this at first, dragging his mouth back and forth, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up to him. You squirm at the feeling, hips rocking up impatiently. 

He laughs a little meanly, pulling back so that you finally have to look down at him. “Are you impatient?”

“Are you going to do something more than leave hickeys on my leg? You said you wanted to do something.”

You expect him not to know what he’s doing, most guys don’t. You think he’s going to drag it out a little longer, but then you feel his fingers dragging between your folds, hooking into you and at the same time his other hand presses down on your hip, keeping you pinned down to the mattress. It takes your body a few moments to warm up to the feeling, his fingers are thicker than your own or your ex’s.

The first drag of Justin’s tongue over your clit has you shoving your head back into the pillow and pressing your hand over your mouth. After that, he’s relentless, like a dog with a bone, and you can’t do anything but let him pin your lower half to the bed and make you take it. You grab onto his hair, unsure if you want to yank him away or yank him closer. The moan he lets out against your cunt is very telling and you grind up against his mouth as much as he’ll let you.

When you come, you have to bite the meat of your palm to keep quiet. You won’t praise him for it, instead using your foot to push at his shoulder until he pulls his fingers out of you. He’s still smug, and when you look down at him, you see him sucking his fingers clean, eyes on your face the whole time. He starts to move up your body and then drops down on the mattress beside you, shoving his hand beneath the waistband of his shorts.

“Can I see?” you ask, and he turns his head to look at you. “Dude, you just ate me out, the least you can do is let me see this.”

Justin shoves his shorts down and you decide not to feed into his ego and tell him he’s got a pretty nice cock. Your eyes bounce from watching him drag his hand up and down his shaft to his face, the way his eyelashes flutter. He’s still watching you. An all too loud groan escapes him and you put your hand over his mouth suddenly. His eyes widen, and you press two of your fingers against his bottom lip, Predictably, he sucks those two fingers into his mouth, his hand moving faster as he slides his tongue between your digits. You don’t touch him any more than this.

He’s whiny, and you press your fingers down on his tongue as if that would make him quieter, but it just makes it worse. He comes all over his fist right as Sidney shoots Billy in the head, the noise drowning him out.

For a minute, neither of you move. You pull your fingers away, wiping them on the front of his shirt, and then you crawl to the end of the bed to find the bottom half of your clothes.

“Where are you going?” he asks, still a little breathless.

“To bed,” you yank on your underwear and shorts, not bothering to look back at him. “Thanks.”

You leave the room and quietly make your way back down to the basement as fast as you can.

⇉ taglist: @rumoured-whispers @deathblacksmoke @collapsedglasshouses @ao3userfeistycadavers

@ladyveronikawrites @dominuslunae

[yesloulou]

ALEXIS, I just reblogged your ask about how checo has been flopping since ausgp and your whole point of the narrative remind me of something I’ve been trying to put into words for so long and I think I’ve finally GOT IT:

As much as racing bros don’t want to admit it, F1 isn’t just about racing. It’s theatre and spectacle like literally ALL FORMS of entertainment is. And there always has to be a story. Look at how a large section of F1 fans have termed this season as “boring”. Even during the merc domination years, there was a clear story: Lewis going after record after record (“how high can he climb” type narrative) and he had the nico rivalry to bolster his title reigns. Seb also had a very clear narrative for his return to the title scene.

Max, as much as I love him, doesn’t really have a “story” per say and checo is NOT anywhere close to providing him with one. But who has a better story this season than Daniel Ricciardo? The whole Icarus falling, prodigal son returning, tireless underdog storyline is ALL RIGHT THERE. And that’s why he’s been generating the most headlines all season, even before he got into the AT seat.

While we’re on the subject, who has a better story WITH MAX expect Daniel Ricciardo? His favorite teammate, the only one to beat him in equal machinery, the one who’s clawed his way back to the top after so much struggle while Max has had so much success? Just imagine how much more Max’s third title would mean if it came down to him and Danny in that last race, than him and Checo…who he’s already dominated all season 🙄 It’s actually a disservice to Max more than anything that he doesn’t have a real “battle” like he did with Lewis and Charles the last two years.

But they have Danny there as their ace they can pull out and suddenly EVERYONE is invested in seeing them go at it, even if its only one more time. In short, this is my essay that I’ll be second to RB headquarters as to why they need to switch Danny over in Vegas 👼

What you said!!!

(Btw saying max's season doesn't have a story is not a dig at all imo. He has no story because him and the new reg rb cars have been unchallenged. It really just speaks for how good he is as a driver and rb has been as a team.)

I really enjoy looking at the juxtaposition of how F1 exists because of the athletic spirit of pushing human performance to the extreme but at the same time is a media/entertainment event at its core. Especially in the context of Daniel's career, since he is a bit of an outlier in terms of career trajectory vs marketability (and is therefore more telling of how F1 functions as an ecosystem).

It's really no secret that F1 doesn't thrive under single team dominance. The more competitive the field is, the more interest there will be for the races and ultimately for the sport (source: domenicali himself). People's interest then translates directly into F1's livelihood bc F1 as an organization profits primarily through selling broadcasting rights and ad opportunities. Now that RBR has built themselves a gap even bigger than F1 had expected (source also domenicali) with no signs of slowing down or as you pointed out, alternative marketing angles/entry points like the lewis/nico situation, this season has begun to bore, which will hurt F1 financially, if not already.

On the other hand, it's against sportsmanship for F1 to do anything that can be considered manipulation to change this reality (it was explicitly stated that F1 "cannot intervene" RB's dominance). Domenicali's best bet (and what F1 has been doing so far) is to exercise budget caps in hopes of a convergence over time and a shortening of RB's cycle of dominance, with 'hope' being the keyword since there are way too many factors for anybody to really predict how this RB era will ultimately play out. While the hoping and waiting continue, F1 is in need of other ways to keep their seasons interesting. And you're absolutely right about this being where Daniel's marketability (existing and potential) comes into play. On top of the fact that people are simply massively interested in him in or out of a car, front or back at the field**, he also has the potential ability to make the championship itself interesting again, something Ferarri, Merc, Checo (and Domenicali himself for the time being) have all failed to do. As marketing-minded as F1's management is (remember when Domenicali literally flew to nyc for red bull's 2023 car launch with horner but then decided last minute to not attend in order to give Ford the full spotlight?), I wouldn't be surprised at all if they welcome Daniel's comeback as much as his fans, or maybe even more so due to its financial implications.

This is ofc not to say F1 can or will do anything about it (just like on principle they can't intervene RB's dominance). But if you think about it, at this point, everyone -- fans, media, sponsors, suppliers (the amount of ford/daniel content we've seen so far), Red Bull as a team, F1 as an organization, even (or like, especially) Max himself -- all want to see and benefit from Daniel coming back on top (except for maybe Checo but at the rate he's been going lately i actually don't know anymore lol). This is a momentum whose importance should not be underestimated. This is exactly why, even though Daniel's stock was at an all time low after mclaren, he was given opportunities and tool sets to rebuild and reestablish himself in this otherwise extremely exclusive, brutal in nature sport. Red Bull (and Mercedes at one point) does not do this out of charity or nostalgia. They're simply an acting agent for this momentum.

Anyways, this is why I think Daniel's F1 career is far from over. People who are quick to conclude "without a wdc ricciardo can't just come and go like alonso" fail to recognize that even not racing, Daniel generates more public interest than the majority of the grid**, an interest that ultimately ties back to this sport, which puts him in a very unique position.

** According to google, Daniel created thee biggest headline F1 has had in the past 3 months, with his overall google search volume ranking 3rd amongst all drivers despite not actively racing.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 52 – The Gods Are Bastards Volume Three by D. D. Webb

Okay this is properly a review for Books 8, 9, and 10 of the gargantuan serial – which I’ll freely admit I read more than a month ago in one week-long fugue along with all the books before them and the next few after. Which is to say I really shouldn’t have waited this long to write this review, and my apologies for all the vagueness and inaccuracies that are going to result. Which is a pity, because this is the best volume of the serial I’ve read and it isn’t even particularly close.

The serial continues the story of a Dungeons & Dragons-esque generic fantasy world advanced a couple hundred years and in the throes of a magical industrial revolution. The story theoretically stars the now-sophomore class of almost comically privileged and powerful students at what’s basically Adventurer University, but compared to the previous volumes they get barely any screentime in this one. Instead you get the Bishop of the god of thieves, the Archpope of the Universal Church, their respective pet openly-plotting-and-near-mutinous adventuring parties, political intrigue in the goddess of war, and a huntsman we’ve never met before learning the secrets of creation and also that his god was always just kind of a dick. It’s great! Also, to reiterate, the students get barely any screentime!

Really I kind of get the sense that I’m a deeply atypical fantasy reader, in that I find 90% of both involved romance plots and drawn out action scenes deeply tedious and basically the price you pay to get at the good parts of the story. In this case the good part is incredibly byzantine and too-complicated-by-half political shadowboxing carried out by proxies only barely kept on their masters’ leashes. Also several thousand words of pure exposition about the deep lore of the setting delivered by a malfunctioning AI.

Because yes, the big massive reveal of the volume is that the elder gods who were overthrown millennia before the story began had actually pulled a Lord of Light. The world runs on generic fantasy tropes because it was created by powermad demiurges who were also specifically insufferable 20th/21st century earth fantasy nerds. The different types of magic were just the results of them folding and rewriting physics, the fact that mortals can only access four is down to the vast majority getting wrecked when their creators died in the Titanomachy. Gnomes are an apparently successful attempt to perfect humanoid life.

This is, first and foremost, an absolutely hilarious bit of worldbuilding. Like, I actually burst out laughing. Knowing that orcs existed because the elder gods were big Tolkein and Warcraft fans may have permanently damaged my ability to take the setting seriously on its on terms but like, honestly? Probably worth it. Also just an excellent excuse for any shotcuts of contradictions in the worldbuilding and for all the kind of lazy fantasy worldbuilding tropes.

While it hasn’t happened yet, I hold out some hope that the increased pivot to the divine and Deep Lore means the serial will start to live up to its title and foreground the gods and their bastardry more – as I’ve said before, a narrative where the literal lords of creation are present but only because they just show up sometimes to descend to earth and make the protagonists lives easier is just boring. Which is why Archpope Justinian, the scheming mastermind who wants to overthrow heaven and earth and works exclusively through needlessly convoluted schemes that don’t stop a single person from knowing he’s to blame. I’m sorry but ‘somehow brainwashed the gods into making him their high priest so he can use the resources of their church as his personal power base’ is such a great bit. Also he’s opposed by literally every major POV so of course I need to root for him. (Honorary mention to Basra Syrinx, who is literally just The Worst in an incredibly entertaining way)

[thevaudevilledemon]

Duck Musings: The Tragedy of Magica De Spell

Tragedy and the Disney Ducks go oddly hand in hand, and we have examined this in several characters, Gladstone Gander and Donald Duck specifically. When it comes to the most tragic character though, I may have to put my money on Magica De Spell, and this isn’t just me being a simp, though I’ll admit that is part of it.

The comic that sparked this Duck Musing was this scanlation by lettheladylead of a 2021 comic by Giorgio Cavazzano titled “Magica De Spell: Origins of a Witch”, which is... pretty much what it says on the tin, the origin story of Magica De Spell. In it, we learn about what happened to her parents, why she is interested in the Midas Touch, and even where Ratface came from. It’s... kind of a sad comic.

Magica’s parents were killed in a spell gone wrong when she was just a baby, probably barley hatched, and from some of the artwork, it appears that they were more focused on the spell than on Magica. After, her Aunt and Uncle took her in, but tried to repress her magic, since this is the same magic that took their loved ones from them. Magica left after learning the truth and deciding to finish what her parents began, and never did seem to return to her Aunt and Uncle.

It is worth noting that there is an alternate backstory as to why Magica wants the Midas Touch, in the comic “The Pact of the Moon”, it is revealed that Magica was not originally evil, but she forced to make the Midas Touch spell by, what I’m assuming is the Witch Council. This lead her to becoming greedy and unscrupulous, again, not a very happy backstory. She also laments about her niece Minima, and how she hopes her niece doesn’t follow the path she herself has went down.

All of this ties into the tragic situation of her current life, always after Scrooge’s dime, always outwitted by the old man, always one step closer but two steps behind her ultimate goal. One of my favourite comics is “The Journey is the Reward”, where Magica does steal the dime, but ends up returning it because, she literally does not know what to do when she’s done. It kinda reminds of that scene in Fight Club where Tyler Durden was talking about always calling his Dad and asking him on what he should do next. It adds a lot to the tragedy of having an ultimate goal, when you don’t really know what you’re gonna do once you have completed it.

I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention Magicstone, the strange pairing of Magica De Spell and Gladstone Gander. I’ve mentioned “A Gal For Gladstone” prior, but the big tragedy of the pairing, I think was best explored by, once again, Sarah Jolley, otherwise known as ModMad, specifically in their comic “Enough Time to Fall”, because they’re right, it never would work. Even if Magica stayed in her disguise, it would have to disappear eventually, and what then? It hurts because, in A Gal for Gladstone, they were both genuinely happy, and her plan failed because she was genuinely concerned about Gladstone’s safety. One true moment of joy, and it had to be snatched from her.

I wrote a piece of fanfiction titled “Stuck Together Duck” in which, Magica De Spell and Donald Duck get stuck together, and bond a little, because when you look at the two of them, they are quite similar. Lost their parents at a presumably young age, raised by extended family (Donald in part by his Uncle, but mostly by his Grandma, and Magica entirely by her aunt and Uncle), niblings they look after (Yes that is the neutral term for niece and nephew), honestly, it feels weird that this pairing isn’t more popular, but I digress. It goes to show that, at the core of the evil sorceress, is something a lot more tragic than one might initially think.

It’s also worth noting that Scrooge, doesn’t seem to hate her. In several comics, they work together to stop a bigger problem, like a comet hurdling towards earth, or another magic user stealing Scrooge’s dime. Scrooge has also helped Magica in situations where she would, or has, lost her magic abilities, and in one comic, it’s shown that the two of them send birthday cars to each other. So maybe Scrooge sees something in Magica, and I don’t mean that in a shipping way, though feel free to take it like that.

Well, I made a Magica post that referenced three of Magica’s ships. I think I’m done for now.

To wrap up, Magica De Spell is easily one of my favourite characters, and really getting a chance to explore this aspect of her character was fun, and also a little heartbreaking. Maybe someday, Magica will get a happy ending to her story, maybe her nieces will find a path to follow that she can be happy for, maybe she and Scrooge will become genuine friends, we can always hope... and write fanfiction. Lots and lots of fanfiction.

[slashingdisneypasta]

PLATONICFAMILIAL!Toon Patrol x Smartass’Daughter!Reader || Oneshot [Part 5]

Title: Peace Treaty

Notes:

By ‘fat naked guy’- Wheezy means Porky Pig.

And yes (: Jessica managed to find the only restaurant around in the 40’s that’s strictly no smoking. XD Goodluck, Wheezy my man.

The next one will be split into sections- each of the weasels POV’s will be incorporated.

Plot: Y/N's first birthday party with her family- plus her best friend, Ritchie, and his parents... Roger and Jessica Rabbit.

Warnings: Cursing (Wheezy uses 'damn' and 'goddamn' a lot, and there's a couple f bombs), Greasy being creepy, and chaos.

Wheezy Weasel’s POV

This party’s gonna be… interesting.

Roger and Jessica Rabbit are gonna be there, cuz Y/N got real close with their kid, and I guess they’re ‘best friends’ or something now. Pfft, I’m her best friend round here, always have been always will be- but whatever, I guess.

Anyway, Jessica picked the place- some place called Porky’s with a huge indoor playground, because 1. It’s a kids birthday party. And 2. She wasn’t about to come to our apartment. Thought we’d kidnap her, or something, which- ehhhhhhhh, Greasy might, honestly. Its uncomfortable, sure, but it’s true. Idiot.

So, when we arrive at the place - Wasn’t hard to find. Couldn’t miss it. There’s a sign with that fat naked guy on top the size of Russia, - Jessica and Roger are already there. The boss sure isn’t amused that they were early, but it is what it is, and- ohhhh fuck. No smoking sign on the front door.

The boss sees the sign, too, just before he pushes it open and moves inside, and huffs- one more thing he has to worry about, I guess. This is gonna be a rough 2 hours.

The table they reserved is by the playground, so we can see the kids, and across from a big TV playing some sorta sporting event that maybe can distract me from my smokes? Just gotta ask the guy at the bar what the rules are. What? I don’t know a damn thing about soccer. When we reach the table, the rabbit kid - Ritchie, - is already so damn excited- I think he’s gonna pee himself (Let’s say if he does, I get to go out and take a 20-minute smoke break). When he sees Y/N, wandering after us at Stupid’s heels, he bounds over and wraps her up in a hug.

… that was cute, I’ll admit it.

“Took you guys long enough,” Jessica comments in that drawl of hers, standing up to greet us, and I roll my eyes. She’s about to say something else, but Y/N then gives Ritchie a little peck on the cheek- and she pauses. She ‘Aw’s. Because- while she might hate us, she sure loves Y/N. And I don’t blame her. Y/N’s actually the sweetest little weasel ever - yes, we’re all surprised that came from Smartass’ genes, -, somehow cheery 90 percent of the time, and if anyone hurts my little cutie pie they’re not gonna see the light of day again, let me tell you.

… Mostly cuz the Boss’ll track ‘em down and Dip ‘em, but I’ll get some kicks in before he does.

“Traffic,” Smartass mutters dryly, before sitting down across from her- beside Roger, who gulps. I take that as my okay to sit down too, a seat down from Ms Rabbit. While no one’s looking I light a cigarette and hold it under the table- I can take drawls when no ones looking. Gimmie something here-

For fucks sake Greasy. You have to regulate yourself, dude. He sits down next to me- right next to her, a recipe for trouble- and man I gotta take a drag. The guy can be so smart… but also dumber than a box of rocks, jesus christ. Stupid sees me as he sits down beside the boss, and I give him a shhh gesture. Don’t worry buddy, I got this. Just don’t let the boss know about it.

Stupid nods hurriedly, giving a little giggle. Okay good.

Psycho’s sitting down beside Roger, of course, which is almost as bad as Greasy sitting himself next to Jessica - the rabbit is shaking, now, -, Y/N gets the head of the table cuz she’s the birthday girl, and her little friend’s by her side. If this is the official seating configuration for the day… I have some concerns.

Since Y/N and Ritchie have been hanging out, Roger has gotten a smidge better with dealing with us, but the boss and Psycho still terrify him just being nearby- that’s a good thing, though, I think. If he wasn’t, then they’d have to go and do something to scare him again, and that… could get messy.

“Happy B-B-Birthday, Y/N!!” Roger calls, waiving at her from down the table.

Nodding, Jessica leans down and gives Y/N a kiss on the forehead. “Yeah, happy birthday honey,” Y/N looks wide eyed after the kiss, almost starry-eyed, and I don’t blame her- but for different reasons. She loves Jessica right back. Looks up to her even. Adores her, even.

I think it’s got something to do with not really having a female influence. But damn... c’mon, baby girl- you got 5 awesome weasels right here to be your role-models! Well- four. Greasy’s not the best.

Three. Psycho needs to seek serious psychological help.

… Two, I hope she don’t start smoking like me. You know what? Maybe she should look up to Jessica-

“Thank you!” Y/N grins, cheesing all sweet at them both. And yeah- she even likes Roger. She seems to like everyone she meets, somehow. It’s a mystery to me, but I guess that’s just her. A fricken angel.

“What kinda presents have you got so far, sweetie??”

“Oh!” Counting on her fingers, like we taught her, Y/N starts listing the presents we got her; Pronouncing her words clearly. A-fricken-dorable. “Daddy gave me a pillow case that he made with me and everyone on it!” At this Roger and Jessica look oddly at Smartass, and he gives them the same smug grin he gave us earlier. Because yeah, apparently the boss can sew, And he's pretty good, too. The pillowcase in question is impressive. Jokes on him, though- he’s gonna be patching up all our clothes from here on out. I would feel bad… but I’ll take the free help where I can get it. Sorry boss. “Wheezy got me a drawing book and some crayons- I already drew an elephant, and he said it was soo good! I got a reallllyyyyy big teddy bear from Greasy- like, bigger than me! Stupid got me building blocks- so many. I made a house that daddy could fit in! And Psycho got me lollies! Like, my favourite kind. And lotssss of them. They’re living in the block house, now.” With a grin and closing her eyes, Y/N rubs her tummy. “Mmmm- mm!”

“Mhmm,” Greasy nods, a lecherous grin on his face as he leans over to Jessica. “And that is not the only thing I have that is big- ay!” I elbow him in the stomach a little too late… but you know what? It felt good. So that’s alright. And I’m assuming he would prefer that to the giant motherfucker hammer Jessica keeps in her goddamn cleavage. Greasy, hunched and holding his stomach, turns to glare at me- and notices the smoke between my legs. So instead of giving me the evil eye, he sighs.

… hm… yeah, sorry handsy-mcgee, but I don’t really care how you feel about this. It’s necessary, so I don’t bite you next time you try it with that woman.

“Uh, yeah. That present over there looks pretty big- “Gesturing to the box the size of our apartment at the end of the table that Roger and Jessica must’ve brought, I tap my smoke subtly against my knee so ash falls off the end. The box's wrapped in red and yellow paper, and it’s got a big ass blue bow on top. “I say its present time again. Whadaya say, Y/N?” I ask, making Y/N’s eyes light up.

 “… can I please?” She asks Jessica, Roger and Ritchie, a timid smile on her lips- even as she buzzes in her seat. A glance at Jessica’s face tells me all I need to know about what she’s thinking. She’s thinking how good Y/N’s manners are, and I can’t help myself- I gotta shoot my shot. Leaning backwards in my chair to get her attention behind Greasy's back and get a good look in those pretty eyes of hers, I flash a short grin.

“She gets it from me.”

Immediately she rolls those pretty eyes, and returns her attention immediately to Y/N. Eh, I shrug and return to the table. It was worth a try. Can’t blame a guy for trying- Greasy, stop looking at me.

Fully offended and betrayed, Greasy slowly narrows his eyes at me. Until he’s squinting. Like an idiot.

I Ignore him, taking a drag of my cigarette while Smartass’ looking at the menu.

“Course you can, darling.” Jessica replies to Y/N, and she promptly hops down off her seat and climbs up on the one closest to the present. Ritchie goes with her and helps her unwrap it on the other side, and its… a… goddamnit its a cubby house. I’m gonna have to build that when we get home. So, sighing while Y/N gets all worked up and excited, I take another hard drag of my smoke.

“Oooh, aren’t they adorable together??~~ ” Roger suddenly sighs, while Y/N and Ritchie are busy squealing about what they can do in the house and what their ‘club name’ is gonna be, getting the adults’ attentions. There are hearts in his eyes that freak me the hell out. “I can already hear wedding bells~~~ “

-I almost choke on smoke, removing the cig to glare dangerously at the rabbit. What was that?? That little girl aunt marrying nobody, until she’s 30, first of all- and they have a steady job, an insurance police, and-

“My daughter ain't marrying no rabbit!” Smartass growls, slamming his fist onto the table suddenly beside his menu and baring his teeth at the little imbecile next to him who’s sinking into his seat. I nod- and they can’t be a rabbit, either.

“Duh, the guy has to be really handsome and nice and treat her right!~ “ Stupid pipes up.

“And have money!” Psycho adds. “Dowry’s are very important in weasel weddings.”

“He must have style.” Greasy thinks, like its obvious.

“Insurance, and healthcare.” Honestly, it’s like they don’t even care about Y/N.

“… And what if she likes girls??” Jessica asks, voice lowered and ready to strike; an eyebrow raised.

And well, none of us are homophobes- but one of us is real opportunistic. “Well then it’s a good thing she has me to teach her how to charm them, eh señorita?~” Greasy leers once again, licking his chops at Jessica and leaning dangerously close to her- half off his seat.

Before he can touch her, though, or Smartass can throw something at him, Jessica trips his chair and he falls over. Which makes Y/N giggle, from over by the cubby.

“Then she’s doomed… “Jessica sighs, not even looking at him sprawled pathetically on the damn floor, which I am. C’mon man, get it together.

She’s right, though, poor kid-

“- Hey Daddy,” Y/N suddenly appears at her father side, and he turns in his seat to raise a brow at her. Yeah? “Can I go play in the playground now with Ritchie?”

“Yeah sure, kid. Stupid’ll come in after ya when your foods here.”

“Uhuhhh, I will!!”

“Thank you daddyy!” Giving her dad a cute little thigh pat, Y/N turns around bounces off to the playground with that rabbit kid. Yep- bounces. He’s rubbing off on her and damn, its gotta stop. The girl cannot be bouncing through life, no ones gonna be scared of her that way. “I’m gonna scale it!!”

Roger looks alarmed, at that - he must be all too familiar with the dangers of play equipment to, be fair, after that short with that creep Herman at the playground, -, but none of the rest of us react. The boss just looks at the menu once more, she can scale the playground if she wants.

“Oh- wait, what is she gonna eat??” Jessica pipes up, partly alarmed also, for one of them is gonna have to go in after her and find her in that playground maze- but, luckily, boss’s a good dad.

He recites Y/N’s order without looing up- and it’s a complicated one. Our girl’s picky as hell, growing up with Greasy’s high standards and experimenting with Psycho and Stupid will do that. -And the boss knows exactly what his little weasel likes, anyway. He knows it without even looking up from his menu.

… Jessica looks slightly impressed again at him, and I release a short chuckle.

Cuz yeah- he’s good.

~ “-Señora!! Come back!” Greasy calls after a retreating back, turned around in his seat.

“- Come here, little raaabbiiitttt… hehehe… “Psycho giggles, tip-toeing after a terrified bunny.

“- OY! STOP SMOKING IN THE DINING ROOM!” A manager yells, spotting me. Oh, fuck-

“- Yeahh Rogerrr… come back here!” Stupid laughs, following behind Psycho.

“- Oops,” I shrug, nervously. That manager does not look like a fun, easy-going kind of guy.

“- Get away from me.” Jessica hisses, scowling and heading round the table.

“- This is why we can’t go to nice places!” The boss finally gives in, the chaos building around him too much to not be furious at, and throws a plate at Greasy- knocking him out immediately. He flops to the ground like a rag.

“THAT’S IT! ALL OF YOU, OUT!”

-annnnnd, we’re all kicked outta the restaurant, Greasy’s unconscious body chucked out after us. “AND STAY OUT!” Yep, shoulda assumed this would happen. Oh well, at least I can smoke, now-

As Roger nervously frowns and asks, ‘Gee, hey aren’t… a-a-aren't Ritchie and Y/N... still in there??’, and Smartass and Jessica promptly lose their damn minds, rushing up to the door again and demanding to be let back in, Greasy slowly wakes up next to me. He’s confused.

“How did I get here?... “

“You were bein’ a pervert.” I offer helpfully, lighting a couple cigs. He nods, like ah…

Y/N and Ritchie appear at the door, then, looking through the glass at us… unsurprised, honestly. Y/N’s got her arms crossed and she’s tapping her foot on the ground, looking like the spitting image of her dad, while Ritchie’s laughing maniacally and… huh, yeah, maybe I don’t mind the guy. I’d laugh too, seeing this. All the adults in their lives all out on our asses in the street.

Yeah… that’s pretty funny. Heh.

“… sweetheart, could you let daddy back inside?” Smartass tries, but you can tell he doesn’t really expect her to help him- he knows what’s gonna happen- he knows her. And she’s him.

… For a moment though, she actually looks responsive to his request, and I raise a brow. Oh really, kid-

“Come this way Miss, the cake is ready!” The manager suddenly appears behind both the kids though, gesturing towards our table which now has a huge (Favourite flavour) cake set on it- Jessica and Roger must have set that up before we got here. “We heard you’re a fan of (favourite flavour)?... “

“I told them.” Ritchie grins, tapping Y/N's shoulder and nodding.

You don’t have to tell Y/N twice that there’s cake- she leaves us in the dust rushing back to the table. Smartass is left shaking a fist after the manager.

[iamdangerace]

4 Albums Tag

Once upon a time, @ourladyofomega and @justmakesuresheeatsthemouse each posted 4 or 5 incredibly cool albums that they were listening to intensively during the weeks just prior to the time of their posts, which was, I am sorry to admit, quite some time ago. Then they tagged me to do the same. Thank you so much, both of you. Album tags are always fun, primarily because I got to listen to the music you selected, and you did not disappoint.

I prefer listening to LPs, Eps, singles with B Side songs over listening to song playlists. I think that in most cases albums of songs listened to as a whole best convey the artists’ expression of the complete story they want told. Listening to the individual songs is like reading a quotation from a book. It may be powerful, but it’s still being taken out of context.

At any given point in time, I listen most intensively to albums of which I recently acquired physical media. Here are 4 of the albums I acquired during the past few weeks:

Sonic Youth Live in Brooklyn, NY (2023)

This is the recording of the final live performance given by Sonic Youth in the U.S. after 30 some years of touring. It was played on an outdoor stage at the Williamsburg Waterfront in Brooklyn NY on August 12, 2011. Kim, Thurston, Lee and Steve (joined by Mark Ibold, of Pavement, on bass guitar) sound brilliant on this recording.

Super Heroines, Cry For Help (1982/ 2014)

Super Heroines was the punkerest of the deathrock bands formed in Los Angeles during the early 1980s. Cry For Help was their debut album. On this album, Super Heroines featured Sandra Ross on bass guitar; Del Mar Richardson on drums; with vocals and guitar by Eva Ortiz. Eva O. was also briefly one of the many guitarists to come and go from Christian Death and she contributed to their album: Only Theatre of Pain (1982). She was Rozz Williams’ wife from 1987 until shortly before he hanged himself in 1998. She is alleged to have been in a relationship with The Night Prowler, Richard Ramirez, before his arrest. Eva’s 4 decades + making goth rock earned her the title of L.A.’s Queen of Darkness, and she continues to earn that title today. Cry For Help is an embodiment of her dark energy and talent. Eva’s throaty vocals and searing guitarwork gives the album a very cool goth punk sound.

Magic Dirt, Girl (2008)

This is currently my favorite album by Australia’s seminal indie rock band from Geelong, Victoria. Magic Dirt is: Adalita (Srsen)(vocals/guitar), Dean Turner (bass guitar), Raul Sanchez i Jorge (guitar) and Adam Robertson (drums).

Mannequin Pussy, Gypsy Pervert (2014)

Hella talented. Zero fucks to give. I think the band’s name stands for “zero fucks to give.” On Gypsy Pervert, Mannequin Pussy is: Marisa Dabeast (vocals and guitar), Thanasi Paul (guitar) and Drew Adler (drums).

I’m going to take advantage of the precedent set by @ourladyofomega and add a bonus album: The Lion and the Cobra by Sinéad O'Connor (1987). Not something I just acquired. I acquired a number of copies decades ago. In fact, I was surprised to see that I have a cassette tape still in the factory wrap. I’ll have to give it as a gift to someone who I know will appreciate it. I also hadn’t listened to it much for a very long time until recently. Recently. I've listened to it very intensively.

I tag: @ellingerfarmer @bonnieprincegnarly @sage9991 @maldoror-est-mort @experimentv @thedown5 @sexcaprice @cchris47 @left-handed-leftist @cavegirl66 @myfriendgoo94 @quietquietlife @xenon2022 @hannahcheeks @itsmsstone

Look, I know many of you taggees tagged me for similar things and I haven’t responded yet. I know this because I kept the email notifications. In some cases, it was a very long time ago. I didn’t ignore them. I’ve been slowly working my way through a massive backlog of follow-backs and tags. Maybe tagging you now isn’t the appropriate thing to do, but I also know you all have extraordinarily good taste in music and would probably throw up some pretty cool album titles that I'd like to see and hear. And isn’t what I want really the important thing here?

Also anyone else who wants to play please do it. You can even dm me and I’ll edit you onto the list of the tagged and no one will be the wiser. Then Bob’s your uncle.

[mikewheelerfan2022]

Book review: I Hunt Killers

Alright, I’ve never done a book review before, but I Hunt Killers was so good I just have to gush about it. Honestly, when I first saw this book at Barnes & Noble my first response was: this looks cringy. The title and cover both turned me off. I literally judged it by its cover. But then I read the description, and was like “Huh. This looks interesting. I’ll get it.” So I did. It took a while, but I started it last night and read about 100 pages before I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Today, I’ve been reading it on and off, and managed to finish the remaining about 250 pages. Here are my thoughts.

The book follows Jasper “Jazz” Dent, a completely normal teenager, if you ignore the fact that his father is the world’s most notorious serial killer. So actually not that normal. The book establishes very early that Jazz’s upbringing was really fucked up. This has caused Jazz to have a different thought process from most people. When a normal person looks at a body, they’re disgusted and terrified. But Jazz is cold and fascinated. That makes for a really interesting POV. He’s low-empathy, but he hates it. He doesn’t want to be like his father, in fact a major plot point in the book is how he’s trying to stop himself from turning into his father. It’s genuinely one of the most interesting thought processes I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

At the beginning of the book, Jazz is sitting in a field, observing a crime scene with binoculars. Police are there, investigating the dead body of a woman. Jazz is intruded, yes. But he doesn’t care too much. Not until he sees what’s in a certain bag of evidence. (Minor spoilers ahead). It’s a finger. Three of the woman’s fingers have been removed, although only one remains at the crime scene. This leads Jazz to a disturbing realization: this isn’t an ordinary murderer. It’s a serial killer. The rest of the storyline follows his attempts to find this serial killer, and put a stop to the killings.

The two other main characters are Howie, Jazz’s best friend and Connie, Jazz’s girlfriend. Howie has a severe case of hemophilia, and bleeds very, very easily. I believe there’s even a passage in the book where it’s described that he’ll bleed if you look at him the wrong way. And yeah, without spoiling, there are a few situations where he does end up bleeding pretty heavily. I actually have a severe phobia of blood, and what’s funny is the descriptions of Howie’s injuries made me way more light headed than the descriptions of the bodies. I actually almost had to put the book down a couple of times and stop reading.

But anyways, on to Connie. I find her to be quite an interesting character. She doesn’t seem to care at all that she’s dating the son of a serial killer. And Jazz is thankful for that sense of normalcy. I wish I could say more about Connie, but I can’t without getting into some spoiler territory. Which sucks, because she’s such an interesting character and I love her so much. But oh well. She’s definitely my second favorite, just behind Jazz, if only because I find Jazz’s internal monologue so interesting.

There are also some more minor characters, which I won’t really get into. But practically every single one of them is a suspect, which is amazing. I constantly kept changing my guess of which one was the killer. Eventually, I just admitted “I don’t know.” Which honestly shocked me. Normally whenever I read a mystery book, I have a guess of who the culprit is, even if my guess is wrong. But with I Hunt Killers, I was genuinely stumped. That just goes to show the author is an absolute master at writing this genre. I was kept on the edge of my seat up until the ending.

Now, the ending. I don’t want to spoil anybody, so I’m not going to go into too much detail. But I loved the ending. I found myself shouting a few…interesting words in reaction to how it all played out. And you know a book is good when the first thing you do is immediately search up to get the sequels. Unfortunately my mom hasn’t put them on hold at the library yet, but hopefully she will soon. Until then, I will be desperately avoiding spoilers. If you have read the series, please don’t spoil me. If you haven’t, go read it right now. I’m serious. Right this second. Go on Amazon or Barnes & Noble and buy I Hunt Killers IMMEDIATELY. Or get it from the library, I don’t care. Either way, you need to read this absolute masterpiece.

5/5 stars!