#Ultimate Hall Monitor

[shymaru]

@theultimatemoralcompass​

Why was this even here? He’d been getting reports of students wandering off recently and had decided to ask his counterpart to assist but never had he been expecting to find this. How or for what purpose this staircase in the middle of the woods was there was utterly beyond him. Though there was only one way to find out...

[nerdyperday]

Day 2585 Crosstober 12: Shun Imai as Kiyotaka Ishimaru

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

11 PM at the Ishimaru household

Kiyotaka: *walking in the house late*

Takaaki: *turns on lamp and turns to look at him* My, my, if it isn't Kiyotaka Ishimaru, The Ultimate Moral Compass. Getting home late. My, my. How low of you, Taka. *shakes head in disappointed*

Kiyotaka: I told Mondo that he needed to take me home early.

Takaaki: *sighs and continues to shake head* Mr. Ultimate Hall Monitor, a hypocrite. Goodnight, Taka. *gets up to go to bed*

Kiyotaka: Father!

Takaaki: *laughing mischievously*

Kiyondo while poking his head out of his bedroom door: Oooh, yer in trouble~~~

[shymaru]

A shiver went down his spine at how disturbing it happened to look but that was quickly overshadowed by her comment, his brain processing the odd question and making him gaze at her in confusion. Where on earth she got these ideas from he didn't know but at least she seemed to be back to her old self again. Even if he was unsure what he should answer.

"E-eh...? I-I... I-I don't... I-I imagine that won't work..."

Exactly! Sure they were deemed harmless but their gaping maw still felt odd to her. Nope! She didn't like them at all! Next up was an anglerfish and...well it was working? She seemed to be fascinated by it's little light.

"...If I make myself glow...will I also attract potential food sources for you? " Unlikely but hey...at least her mood seemed to improve steadily. Her curious side simply wanting to learn more and more.

[cece693]

Velvet Ring Pt. 3 (Hannibal Lecter x M! Reader)

Sorry for the short hiatus, but life comes first :) I have read your comments and delivered part three of Velvet Ring. Many say this should be a full-length novel, so I'm considering going to Ao3 and posting it there. More info to come, but I hope you enjoy it!

link to part one and part two

The months that followed your departure were a slow descent into madness for Hannibal, a feverish chase that consumed him with a depth he hadn’t known was possible. He had no doubt you were alive—he would have felt it otherwise, sensed the hollow ache in his soul if you had truly been lost. Yet, no matter how many leads he pursued, no matter the lengths he went to, you remained elusive, slipping from his grasp like water.

He contacted private investigators, each more skilled than the last, paying them handsome sums for information that ultimately led nowhere. Hannibal monitored hospitals, social service records, border crossings, tracking every lead that might hint at your presence, yet all he found was emptiness. His health took a toll—his once sturdy frame became thin, his skin turning sickly pale due to the lack of sunlight as the man feverously searched through papers. But his nights were the worst of it.

Sleep, once a rare respite, became his most unforgiving tormentor, an unbidden invitation into his memory palace, where every hall and chamber held your presence. In every room, you were there, waiting with that quiet intensity he could never forget, your gaze piercing him with unspoken questions. He would step forward, his hands trembling as he reached out.

"Please," Hannibal whispered, his voice breaking in a way it never did in the waking world. "Please, come back to me." And each time he reached for you, tried to bridge the impossible chasm he had created, he would awaken, gasping and cold, his hand outstretched to empty air, the harsh reality a cruel slap in the face. He knew he would never find peace, not without you. His life, his plans, his ambition—all of it was hollow now, stripped of all meaning.

But then, after months of nothing but anguish and shadows, he heard a whisper—a sighting in a small, secluded town, someone matching your description. It was faint, the kind of rumor easily dismissed as coincidence by anyone else. But Hannibal clung to it with an iron grip, the flicker of hope it rekindled blazing into a fire within him. Without hesitation, he set out, leaving no time to rest, crossing miles with a singular determination to find you.

Hannibal arrived at dusk, the air heavy and cool, exhaustion tugging at his every step, but a fierce anticipation overriding all else. He scanned the cobblestone streets, his gaze sharp and hungry, studying every face. Just as his hope began to waver, there you were—across the street, holding a small bag, engaged in conversation.

Hannibal’s heart seized as his eyes locked onto you, his breath catching at the sight of you after so long. But then, his gaze drifted to the woman beside you, her hand resting lightly on your arm as she leaned in, laughing softly at something you said. Something primal stirred within him, a dark flame fanned by jealousy, possessiveness, and the betrayal he felt as he watched you sharing even a fragment of your life with another.

Without hesitation, he crossed the cobblestone street, his steps unyielding, his gaze fixed intently on you. As he approached, the woman looked up, startled, and her grip on you tightened as she registered the intensity in his eyes. His face remained composed, but there was an edge to his expression, a darkness that radiated in the tight line of his jaw, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long on her hand resting on your arm.

"M/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet intensity that was both familiar and unsettling. The way he said it—both a question and an accusation—made you freeze, your eyes widening as they locked onto him. Hannibal took in sick delight at the way you removed the woman's hold on your arm, a unconscious sign that you did something wrong and knew it.

Turning to the woman, Hannibal smiled, cold and unyielding. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, his tone dripping with a courtesy that felt more like a threat than an introduction. "I'm Hannibal Lecter, and who might you be?"

She cleared her throat, her unease evident. “I'm Anna. Pietro's friend." Her voice was unsteady, unsure of how to respond to the quiet menace in his gaze. Hannibal didn't care that you had created a fake identity, the moniker friend, being of more importance. There was ambiguity in it—a loose, undefined boundary that could mean anything or nothing at all. The lack of clarity fanned the flame of his resentment, and he relished the discomfort that flashed in Anna’s eyes as his stare intensified.

"A friend,” he repeated, his voice soft but edged with subtle derision. His gaze flicked over her with a dispassionate coldness before returning to you. “I wasn’t aware Pietro had developed such… casual acquaintances during his time away.” His tone held a faint sneer, and he continued, turning back to her with a faint smile. “Tell me, Anna, how long have you been acquainted with him?”

Anna’s gaze darted nervously between you and Hannibal, the weight of his intense scrutiny pressing down on her. “Just a few weeks,” she replied, voice faltering slightly under his sharp gaze.

"Wonderful,” Hannibal murmured, his smile tightening, “then I assume he’ll be quick to abandon you in favor of company more suited to his needs. Pietro has a habit of seeking company that doesn’t benefit him—shallow, fleeting connections, if you will.” His words were like barbed silk, each one crafted to cut deeper.

“Hannibal!” you interjected sharply, your tone stern, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. You took a step forward, trying to draw his attention away from Anna, who looked close to tears.

Hannibal’s gaze shifted back to you, a faint glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “My apologies,” he said softly, his voice dangerously smooth, “I merely assumed that you’d be accustomed to my honesty by now.”

You clenched your jaw, leveling him with a glare. “Your honesty is cruelty, Hannibal,” you said firmly. “And I don’t appreciate you taking your issues out on someone who has nothing to do with this.” Hannibal seethed, watching as you turned your gaze back unto that pig leaning into her ear, whispering something unintelligible. His hands clenched at his sides, his entire posture radiating a barely restrained fury.

“Anna has nothing to do with this, Hannibal,” you said firmly, once the wretched pig had left. “I won’t stand here and let you humiliate her just because she's been kind during my stay here."

“Humiliate?” Hannibal repeated, his voice cold and dripping with disdain. “The only humiliation here is watching you pretend this… distraction somehow compensates for what you left behind. But if that’s the kind of company you now keep, perhaps I overestimated your standards as well.”

You narrowed your eyes, anger flaring. “That’s enough,” you warned, stepping forward. “I didn’t ask you to come here, and I certainly didn’t ask for your opinions on my choices.”

Hannibal scoffed, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Your choices?” he echoed, his voice rising, each word dripping with venom. “They weren’t just your choices. They were ours. When you abandoned me without a word, as if what we had was disposable, your choice became mine.”

For a brief moment, his gaze softened, the fury and bitterness fading to reveal something raw, something painfully human. His face transformed, stripped of the cold, unshakable control he had always exuded—even as children, when he had towered over others with a quiet, invincible strength. It was as if a mask had fallen away, and you saw, perhaps for the first time, that beneath his formidable presence, Hannibal was vulnerable and, terrifyingly, capable of being hurt.

Hannibal’s voice softened, a glimmer of both sorrow and fierce determination in his eyes as he gently brushed his thumb along your cheek. “But I forgive you,” he murmured, his words filled with tenderness. “But tell me this: why didn’t you tell me Lady Murasaki and Robert treated you horribly? I would have put an end to their horrid behavior if I’d known.”

The weight of his forgiveness, his readiness to overlook the pain of your absence, only made the guilt settle deeper in your chest. You took a shaky breath, looking down as the words you’d hidden so carefully finally began to spill out. “I thought…I thought I was protecting you,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “They’re your family, Hannibal. I didn’t want to be the reason you fought with them. And a part of me was scared. That if you spoke with them, you'll realize that they were right. That I was undeserving of you."

Hannibal’s face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes as he took in your words, his jaw clenching. He felt a rush of anger swell within him, barely tempered by the knowledge that Robert and Lady Murasaki—those who had dared to make you feel so small, so undeserving—had already been dealt with. Even so, a bitter regret simmered beneath his composure, a twisted satisfaction tainted by the thought that he could have made their ends far more painful, a true testament to the suffering they had inflicted on you.

"That couldn’t be further from the truth, beloved." His hand moved to cup your face, his fingers warm against your skin as he tilted your chin, his gaze softening with an intensity that stole your breath. His voice, quiet yet filled with unwavering conviction, wrapped around you like a protective embrace.

“Don’t you see?” Hannibal continued, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your cheek. “Without you, my life would have been empty, hollow. They convinced you that you were an obstacle, something in the way of greatness, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. You are my anchor, the one who kept me grounded when everything else felt meaningless. My purpose.” His voice grew rough, carrying the weight of all he’d felt, all he’d kept buried.

Hannibal leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours, his voice softening. “They saw the depth of what we shared, and it frightened them. They knew I would choose you over anything they could offer, over any legacy or loyalty. And so, they made you believe you were unworthy, hoping to drive us apart.” He shook his head, the faintest hint of sorrow in his eyes. “But they were wrong. I am yours, and without you, I am nothing but a shadow.”

You felt the warmth of his words seeping into you, soothing the ache that their lies had left, dissolving the doubts that had plagued you for so long. His gaze held yours, his hand still cupping your face with a gentleness that belied his intensity. “Promise me,” he murmured, his voice almost pleading, “that you will never doubt your place beside me again. That you won't ever leave my side again.”

Your heart swelled, and with a trembling smile, you nodded, leaning into his touch. “I promise, Hannibal.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, filled with both relief and the unspoken vow that no one would ever come between you again. “Then we begin anew,” he whispered, brushing his lips softly over your forehead. “Together, as it was always meant to be.”

[kizzer55555]

Ultimate Escape Room

Sam, Danny, and Tucker are bored. Nothing seems to be a challenge anymore. Summer vacation is coming up but they can’t agree on anything . Themepark? What’s a better roller coaster than Jack driving? Scary movie? I’m sorry, nothing beats Fright Knight’s nightmare realm. Bungie jumping? Danny can fly. Then Tucker, who’s been typing on his computer, asks “what about an escape room?”. The others are about to shut the idea down because seriously? Easy. But Tucker just grins and shows them his computer screen.

“Ever heard of Arkham?”

Danny and Sam lean over to read the description and all three turn to each other and grin. 

Now, what’s the fastest way to get into Arkham?

…

So the chaos trio do ✨something✨ that gets them locked up in Arkham and then try to escape and they keep. You know, normal stuff for Arkham inmates. Except this trio? Keep. Getting. Out. Of. Their. Cells. So they are just passing by locked up rogues and waving at them as an army of prison guards chase after them. Sure they could get out the easy way (Aka powers) but no, this is a challenge so they have the normal rules of an escape room. Aka, you can’t break anything and an extra rule where if a guard catches you, then you can’t fight back (also, no one can get hurt). (They make fake identities and everything). So they need to go through the whole process. Figure out how to unlock cuffs. Could be learning to pick a lock with a spoon/stick/long nails. Then find the keys. Possibly having to crawl through vents to get in the warden’s office. Or making deals with prison inmates. Like, I’ll get this for you if you give me that (however they extract a promise that the rogue can’t kill anyone with whatever they help them with.) So they are in prison literally doing errands like find freeze’s weapons in exchange for him telling them the passcode to the gate or something. Or getting Waylon some meat from the cafeteria and he’ll break the lock on this movable vault that has materials to make smoke bombs they can use to distract the front guards. 

These kids are just going wild and it gets to the point where Arkham has to call the bats (like no Waylon, we won’t escape with you, we have to do it without breaking any walls!) So literally the only reason they are not escaping is because they want to do it ‘right’. But they are also aiding other rogues in their escape (at least certain ones. They aren’t helping joker no matter what he offers)

It’s driving the bats mad. They have vigilantes stationed in each hall, in multiple monitor rooms.

They aren’t even using anything clever to block the cameras. They’re using mirrors. Mirrors! Where did they even get so many handheld mirrors! 

They are running circles around the bats. The escaped rogues literally aren’t doing anything yet because they want to see how the three hellions will escape the entire bat clan. They have bets going. So there is a temporary truce.

Just imagine the conversations/interrogations the bats will have with trio, trying to figure out their master plan - because surely there's something more going on than three chaos young adults playing a game, right?

They trio each have a different story. And they are so passionate/convincing actors that no one knows which story is real. At least one of them told a sob story with legitimate tears.

Danny: (all mysterious) You shall never know our master plan….until it is too late. And just casually dropping hints that there is something greater or that the bats are playing right into their hands. Even using ridiculous scenarios like yesss the ketchup explosion in the cafeteria….We are one step further….Mwa ha ha! (Rubs his hands together)

Sam: (absolutely distraught with literal tears running down her face and ruining her mascara.) There is a terrible organization holding their parents hostage. They had been framed and forced to be in Arkham. If they don’t do exactly as they are told, their loved ones are in danger! Should we stay? Should we escape and help them!? No one will believe us and what if we make things worse? We don’t know what to do!

Tucker: (takes a long slurp of a smoothie. Where he got one? No one knows). Yeah we were bored and had nothing better to do than mess with you guys. (Sluuuuurp).

The bats are trying to figure it out. Is the black haired guy telling the truth and the other two are just manipulating them? Is it the girl and the others are only following the plot of the organization? IS THE BARET KID RIGHT AND THEY’RE JUST MESSING WITH US!? WHICH STORY IS IT!?

Under normal circumstances, Sam wouldn’t give a sob story because It’s not really her vibe. But Sam has the opportunity to pull one over on a bat. Do you honestly think she won’t take a chance to mess with them? Also, Dick is the one who is interrogating Sam.

He’s crying too by the end of the story.

Poor guy, Sam will play his heart like a fiddle. 

Also, their fake identities are Jordan for Danny. Mortica for Sam (or Macey for short) and Phineas for Tucker. The fact that they are using fake identities is the only thing they all agree on in the interview. But the bats find nothing on them and the identities are so realistic they wonder if they are even fake at all. If the three are faking fake IDs to throw them off their tail from looking deeper. Apparently their ‘parents’ having a missing persons report.

Damian is interrogating Danny. It’s just so easy to rile him up and get under his skin. It’s absolute drama in that interrogation room. 

Danny: ah yessss. Master plan.

Damian: you shall never succeed! Justice shall prevail evil scum!

And Duke is interrogating Tucker. He just…has no idea how to respond to this. He wasn’t trained for this response. Hostile, yes. Mysterious, yes. Scared, yes. Civilian, yes. Even Flirtatious! YES! But not…this. What does he do? should he take out his note cards?

Also, I’m adding a mix of home alone elements to this. They have to get past the bats somehow and it can’t be lethal. Poor Jason and Steph who are patrolling the halls fall victim to most of this.

At one point, both of them are tied up together and hanging from the ceiling. While the trio just casually walk by under them. 

It’s dental floss. Really strong dental floss.

Then the bats start taking sides. 

Jason? once he hears Sam's story, he's immediately willing to help her. He and Dick are searching for that missing person's report almost religiously.

Tim believes Danny's story. part of it is because it makes the most sense, and the other part is that he's slightly biased from becoming an evil megalomaniac in every timeline he's seen so he's subconsciously trying to stop that from happening here.

Cass believes Tucker because come on, it's Cass.

Steph is siding with Tim because her father was cluemaster so same reasons.

Bruce is trying to fact check all of them and is failing desperately.

Sam added some ‘clues’ in her interrogation and basically threw the GIW under the bus as the organization. So the bats do find a shady organization but so far no missing persons so the other bats still don’t know if what Sam is saying is true or not while Dick takes this as absolute proof and Jason feels like it doesn’t matter if she’s telling the truth at this point. It’s a corrupt organization. So he’ll still blow it up.

I think in this AU, the GIW isn’t a threat and more of an annoyance so Sam just plays them up as even worse. Like, she doesn’t say anything untrue just makes it sound worse out of context. Oh yeah, they opened fire on this random kid. (Gregory when they thought he was phantom) Oh yes, they have destroyed Danny’s house at one point. (The prank war with Vlad) Yes, the have an unhealthy obsession with dissecting people. (Even though they are too incompetent to actually catch anyone).

So again, they don’t know if Sam is telling the truth of the organization or they just used this random organization to draw their attention away from the three’s plans (as Danny implied). Possibly an enemy organization or a competitor.

I know everyone makes the GIW a big threat but I decided to change it up. They aren’t a threat but still get obliterated by a pissed off Red Hood and Nightwing.

And that’s  another reason why Sam gives the sob story. Danny and Tucker are great but they wouldn’t actually sick a crime lord on the GIW. Sam? Absolutely would. She does not care what happens to them. They tore up her garden one time with a stray shot. She wants revenge. And sure, she didn’t actually know what would happen to them after the bats find out but she still doesn’t care.

And through all of this, the rogues are sitting back and eating popcorn while Joker screams bloody murder from his cell. 

[shymaru]

@shsl-bosozoku-mondo-oowada​

How long had he been walking for? It felt like quite some time judging by how dark it was getting but since the normal route home wasn’t available he was forced to walk through the woods to try to reach where his backyard happened to be. Though... He swore he could feel something watching him...

[shsl-analyzer-guy]

In-Depth Character Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 1: Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Yes, I'm aware the title is ungodly long, it's called comedy. Behold, a series inspired by my overwhelming hubris! Despite my better judgement, I love this series and (almost) every single one of its characters, so I decided to do this little series of posts on the side, just cuz!

So part 1 of like, 88 I think?, going through the characters from THH, DR 0, SDR2, UDG, DR3, and DRV3 with as much objectivity as possible, analyzing their character using only canon material from the games/anime/novel/canon adaptation they're present in. So sit back and enjoy while I go feral! Or just scroll, if you aren't interested. Whatever works for you.

Part 1- Character Design

Kiyotaka Ishimaru is depicted as a very aggressive honors student, and is shown as such through his very expressive facial features and his choice of clothing. He has large eyebrows and big eyes, and is given a uniform meant to make him look more like a soldier, reflecting his rigid dedication to the rules and his ethics. This uniform also includes an armband meant to signify his authority within the class as Hall Monitor and as the unofficial class rep. His sprites are very animated, with big gestures using his arm(s) and his mouth often wide open, whether in a wide smile or while yelling. This makes him one of the more expressive characters in THH specifically, as most of those characters are pretty restrained on a day-to-day basis and only become more exaggerated when put under high levels of stress.

Something interesting about Taka is that his talent changes from the original Japanese to the English translation. His official talent is the SHSL Public Morals Committee Member, meaning his original talent was that of discipline and social order. This was translated to Ultimate Moral Compass in English, as most western schools don't have a Public Morals Committee. This change in translation unintentionally shifted the perception of his talent from discipline to morality. This change in distinction has had a bit of a negative impact on the Western perception of his character, as rather than appearing to impose order on the other students, it instead appears at the beginning as though we, the audience, are supposed to view him as a beacon of morality. We're not.

Part 2- Character Introduction

Taka is one of the first characters to actually speak to Makoto directly, berating him for being late on the first day of school, despite the fact that he and everyone else had experienced a strange warping of memory. He also goes on to interrupt your first conversation with Sayaka, stating that their time is being wasted by 'ridiculous back-and-forth'. Despite this, when it's his turn to introduce himself to Makoto, he goes off on a tangent about how cool Makoto's name is. He's described by Makoto as a 'flawless honors student' and is most publicly known for his work on his local Public Morals Committee. He believes in putting 'every ounce of effort' into living, and imposes this belief on those he interacts with, something Makoto finds irritating(This guy is... kind annoying.").

So in short, Taka's first impression on the player is that he's a mildly obsessive honors kid, and a bit of a hypocrite that isn't fully aware of his own presence or the effect it has on the rest of the cast. The game goes on to use this lack of social awareness as a source of comedy, as he takes Monokuma's initial greeting as Headmaster fully at face value. He struggles to grasp the concept of the killing game at first, opening the discussion upon Monokuma's departure from the welcome ceremony with dialogue that sounds like it was pulled from a customer feedback survey("So guys, how would you define what we just experienced?"). He's not a malicious or hateful figure; he wants to work with the class but isn't quite sure how to.

Part 3- Early-Game Events

The game spends the early-game establishing Taka's more negative traits. He's shown to be inobservant and wrapped up in his own ideals and need to command authority to even notice Kyoko is missing and, upon being informed of her disappearance, cares more about her punctuality than her safety. "Not only is she late, she didn't tell anyone she would be late! A most unbecoming personality trait..."

He's also established as hypocritical once again, and a bit egotistical, as he has trouble fathoming the others' lack of discoveries but overinflates the importance of his own.

He then goes on to agree to Celeste's suggested nighttime rule for all the boys in the class, without letting them speak for themselves. While ultimately, no one has a problem with the rule, this is the first real instance of him doing something that, on paper, is beneficial to the group, but without considering how the others actually feel about it.

Taka doesn't show up in-story again until the day of the motive, when he goes around to the entire class demanding that they will now all have breakfast together every morning after the morning announcement. Although this is a good idea, allowing for everyone to bond and creating a morning headcount, he makes this decision for the entirety of the group. Leon and Makoto both complain about this if you speak to Leon outside the cafeteria, but ultimately go along with it because they don't want Taka to continue bugging them about it. So we can see that his efforts are perceived negatively by his classmates and go unappreciated.

Already we've seen Taka act overbearing and commanding over and over, inadvertently separating himself from the majority of his peers. He's direct and to the point, forming the breakfast meetings expressly to 'become friends and build trust' with the rest of the class. So we can see in no uncertain terms that he wants to befriend his classmates, but that his lack of social skills leads him to fail at every turn. He doesn't ask the class to join him for breakfast, he tells them. The strategy he employs doesn't leave room for choice, and ends up building resentment from his classmates.

It's not until the first body is discovered and the rules of the class trial are revealed that reality fully seems to set in for Taka. He, along with everyone else, are given the rules of a game they don't really want to play- that should they fail in the trial, all of them will be killed. And it sends Taka to a breakthrough- that some regulations can be harmful to those they're imposed upon.

There's now a shift in his actions- he's still trying to push for the class to follow the rules he's set, yes, but there's a newfound urgency to them. When Byakuya disappears in chapter 2, his concern has shifted from punctuality to his classmate's safety. He's the one to lead the search for Byakuya when he doesn't answer. Despite all his harshness, we can see that his strictness now comes from a place of genuine concern for the people around him, a direct parallel to earlier in the game when Kyoko went missing- "I'd like to think so. But I'm worried something might have happened to him."

This growth of character, though not focused on, is undoubtedly present. The dedication he has to his discipline and his ego are still fully intact, but now that dedication has moved beyond just order. It's an act of protection, for him and everyone else. The invisible threat of death has become all too visible with Sayaka's absence from their last breakfast meeting. If he can keep track of everyone, then he'll know they're still alive. He can prevent another murder. It imposes upon him the responsibility of the leadership he craves.

Part 4- Relationship(s)

Unincluding if the player actively seeks him out through FTEs, Taka only ever develops a real relationship with one character of the other fourteen in-game, though he does have some important dynamics with others. We'll continue moving in chronological order.

4.1- Ishimondo (these bitches gay?)

Throughout the game, whenever Taka is saying or doing something stupid, Mondo is typically the one to call him out on it or shut him down. While this doesn't start to take real shape until chapter 2, it is visible here and there in the early game.

But their connection doesn't really start to take focus until chapter 2, as Taka's failings as leader and Mondo's constant correcting him puts them at odds. Mondo's attitude is the antithesis of Taka's, living a life of complete risk and impulsiveness, yet has a matching level of energy, and despite being more intimidating on a surface level, he's able to actually befriend characters like Chihiro, Hina, and Sakura, while Taka's left on the out. One of the best examples of this is found not in the game, but in the stageplay adaptation, where both characters attempt to help Chihiro feel better about her weakness in the daily life segment.

When Byakuya starts mocking Chihiro for her fear, Mondo threatens him, and insists that Chihiro's weakness doesn't matter because she's a woman. But when this makes her upset and Sakuraoi call him out on it, he offers to help Chihiro train as an apology, acknowledging that his behavior was irrational. But when Taka tries to give her advice by telling her not to be weak anymore and is told to be reasonable, he can only insist that Mondo's words don't matter anyway.

In the game itself, Taka's barely present for this exchange, as it chooses instead to focus on Chimondo's relationship. Regardless, the animosity between Mondo and Taka is still made very clear in-game.

Mondo and Taka are both demonstrating the desire to protect their classmates here, but in different ways. Taka is the more logical of the two, focusing on keeping track of resources and devising a system of check for everyone to keep watch over each other in the breakfast promise. Mondo, meanwhile, wants to push the importance of actually getting everyone the fuck out of there. While their endgoal is the same, they disagree on how to go about it, and both their stubbornness drives them to butt heads as time continues to pass, leading to the sauna scene.

After being slowly built up in the background, Ishimondo's mutual anger finally comes to a head, with both not understanding the position that the other is in. Taka still believes Mondo's value to be what he provides to society, and as a biker gang leader, that's not much to a man that lives by lawful discipline. Meanwhile, Mondo can only see Taka as an egomaniac with a stick up his ass and doesn't know the background to why(and neither does the player without actively seeking out his FTEs). They each follow a different code of ethics, and view themself as the protector of the class, leading them to see each other as rivals. Yet, despite that, both of them still share their core value of total dedication, and so when finding a way to prove themself the better man, they end up with an endurance competition. For Taka, this reflects his belief that men connect by baring their souls, and do so by baring their bodies(something only learned in-game by approaching him for FTEs).

(This also leads to the implication that, while Mondo insisted on entering the sauna with all his clothes on, at some point, he was, in fact, naked while with Taka that night.)

The information as to what happened in that sauna is intentionally left unanswered, remaining fully private between both men in-game. The only thing either of them will say is that a brotherhood was formed between them, and that who won their initial contest no longer matters. Finally, Taka has found someone. Someone he can confide in and lean on, someone who'll support him and that he can support in turn("And if you can't do it alone, just find someone to support you, and you can support them back! That's how you can overcome any storm!" -Taka ch 1).

And then Chihiro's case happens.

At first, when the motives are introduced, Taka is one of the few to vocally insist no murder will take place. He has newfound confidence in the willpower of his classmates, and puts faith into everyone else for the first and only time. Even when presented with his own unknown secret, he finds it ridiculous that anyone would kill over the embarrassing memories and secrets. It's here that we truly see the highest high of this character- when he comes up with the idea to share secrets. When he presents this idea, he moves forward as usual, preparing to be the first one to reveal their secret and take the pressure off. But when his classmates insist they can't (Toko & Celeste) he doesn't keep chugging along, and he doesn't completely shut down, either. He looks around at his classmates, and he asks Chihiro. He actually steps back and asks for someone else's opinion.

And when she isn't yet comfortable, he backs off. He respect her wishes, and he stands with the class, ready to help them face their secrets the following day. Finding a friend in Mondo has softened his rigid exterior a little bit, enough to actually consider the opinions of the others. He's gotten comfortable. All that comes crashing down with the discovery of Chihiro's body the next morning. After finally taking a step back and letting his classmates- his friends- make their own choices, it directly leads to the murder of one of them("Dammit! I'm sorry, Chihiro... It's all because I wasn't strong enough!").

Taka fully blames himself for allowing Chihiro to be murdered, and as the guilt of failure starts to set in on him, he looks to his ethics and order to solve it. Chihiro may be dead, but the murderer will be condemned through the class trial("Justice always prevails! Right, bro!?"). A solution, a path forward, still exists for him. He still has Mondo by his side, and he and the rest of the class can surely prevent this from happening again, right?

The trial only validates him at first, revealing the existence of a serial killer among the group, someone so clearly immoral for her killing obsession. But it's not her. Why isn't it her? "Could such a heinous villain really be innocent!?" But his confusion is quickly stamped out- of course, it's Byakuya, the guy that's been threatening everyone and refusing to cooperate, the guy that has no regard for the rest of their classmates. "He kept calling this a game, right? So he'd totally be willing to do whatever it takes to 'win'!" But no, wrong again- he didn't know that the murder was in the boys' locker room, and was taken aback by Chihiro being AMAB. It should be him, someone so clearly antagonistic, that's how it's supposed to go, right?? But no, it's wrong! Why? And, who could kill someone like Chihiro at their most vulnerable?

He's failed. Taka's failed in every way conceivable. Mondo, the first person he's ever truly felt connected to, a murderer? Chihiro's murderer? That can't be it. Even long after Mondo's stopped arguing, Taka continues to push back against Makoto and Kyoko's accusations. It's a coincidence, that's not actually proof, anything to get them to stop, to save his brother, to save himself from the reality he's about to have to face. When sent into the BTB, it's Taka we fight in his despair, not Mondo. Until the very end, Taka won't acknowledge it. He can't. He can't bring himself to vote his Mondo a murderer, a killer. How could the man who gave him the chance no one else would, ever be so cruel? "I- I refuse to believe it... There's no way... no way he would kill someone! Why!? Why why why why why!? WHYYY!? Why did you do it!?"

He learns the truth of Mondo's story alongside the rest of the class, unable to process it all. It makes no sense. They were friends who trusted each other, who helped each other. And what about the man's promise? Doesn't that count for anything!? This doesn't sound right. This isn't Mondo, not his Mondo, not the man from the sauna. How could he have been so wrong about him?! It just can't be, but it is; the truth is but a slap to the face.

He was wrong. He stood by Chihiro's killer and defended him. He let his brother become the monster he saw himself as. He didn't stop it when he could have. He was blinded by his own beliefs, and as he watches Mondo's death, his spirit dies with him, the game cutting out all music as Taka screams, filling a deafening silence. "As Taka's sad screams invaded our skulls, we were each forced to realize once again..."

4.2- Kiyondo Ishida

Taka enters chapter 3 as a hollowed out shell of himself. He's gone near comatose, staring at nothing and saying nothing. He won't eat, won't speak, won't sleep, and although there are a couple weak attempts to get him back in action from Hiro("It's times like this where the committee chairman needs to get things going with a BANG!"), he's mostly left to grieve by himself, as the rest of cast is more concerned with the expanded school than the bossy guy they didn't like that much.

Monokuma even goes out of his way to torture Taka, to punish him for his grief, lying about the existence of a time machine just to fuck with his head and give him false hope, sending him further into despair- "Hmm... You sound disappointed. But actually, I was lying about the whole thing anyway. There's no such thing as time machines!" He's forced to become Monokuma's most successful project from the class, completely and utterly destroyed.

When he learns of Alter Ego, something in his head clicks. He can still talk to Chihiro. He can repent. He can apologize directly to him. So, with Makoto's help, he's brought to the laptop. His guilt finishes totally consuming him as he asks: "Do you... hate Mondo? And since I couldn't stop him... do you hate me?" His own self-hatred stemming from his failure is projected onto Alter Ego in one last attempt to come to terms with what's happened. The response he receives, unfortunately, is the culmination of all the toxic and unhealthy ideas of manhood the other boys carried with them via an attempted simulation of Mondo.

"You're not letting yourself get crushed under the weight of that responsibility, are you!? A man's only worth as much as the load he can carry! You get it, right bro!? Hell, what am I saying? Of course ya do!"

"So you're just gonna stand there, huh? Just wait for things to get better? Just take your time and get all depressed... Take the time to indulge your regrets... You might even start walking again without realizing it. Sure, that kind of mediocre thing might work for some people."

This speech, while attempting to inspire Taka to keep living for Chihiro's and Mondo's sakes, encapsulates the desperate need to be perceived as strong and untouchable that Mondo himself carried, and that Chihiro admired so much. It sinks its way into Taka, convincing him that the way to respond to his guilt is simple- pretend it isn't there! Mondo has clearly returned to him, and he's never letting him go ever again. He fully deludes himself, and he's fused with this idealized version of his bro. He permanently ties himself to Mondo's memory, and goes from the SHSL Public Morals Committee Member to something else entirely- Kiyondo Ishida, the unholy mixture of both men.

This revelation also leads him to an obsession with Alter Ego, viewing it as the vessel in which his bro was returned to him. He views it as another chance to protect his bro from ever being hurt again, as some divine second-chance he's been granted. All desire to be around the rest of his class is gone, replaced with this obsession. He's put at odds with Hifumi, who's also connected with the AI, and separates himself from the group that much more. When Alter Ego disappears, he can't handle it. He panics. He won't let his bro die, not again. And so he dooms himself, refusing to let go of the shadows of the past enough to see his own death looming before him, and he's killed in the early hours of the morning, led by desperation to his demise. And even so, the class can only worry about the semantics of when he died, barely mourning him.

5- Isolation (What's the point of this guy, anyway?)

Rather than learning from the mistakes both Chihiro and Mondo made by subscribing to the societal expectations of what makes a man, Taka ends up doubling down, burning away the optimism and more reasonable logic Taka used to have. Taka's story is that of a doomed fate to become the symbol of manhood and its self-destructing nature, leeching off of his first and only friend's unhealthy behaviors and sending him spiraling. And it's allowed to happen because of his social isolation.

From the very beginning of the game, Taka is singled out as annoying to be around. He's put in a negative light and viewed as unpleasant to spend time with. Every attempt to befriend or connect with a classmate is written off as a nuisance, a hindrance. Taka doesn't know how to make friends. He doesn't know how to do anything besides follow the rules and regulations he's been taught. He sticks to his regimen, because it's comfortable, and doesn't understand why others can't conform in the way that he does. He's very thoroughly isolated mentally and emotionally from his classmates at every turn, to the point where even in the very first trial he's standing with no one but the dead by his side(as Sayaka and "Junko" were positioned on either side of his podium).

All this is done with the deliberate intention to showcase his solitude, and more importantly, the loneliness that comes from it. It's to the point that when he finally does make a friend, he thoroughly idealizes him in his subconscious, coming to view him as some perfect person who'd even support him. It's inherently contradictory from his established beliefs going into the game, that a delinquent could be kind, but he accepts it wholeheartedly. He gets to know Mondo on some deeper level while in that sauna, and it's enough to rapidly develop a massive codependency on him. So when Mondo self-destructs and dies, so too does Taka.

Taka's purpose as a character is to suffer. He wraps himself in his moral beliefs, remaining steadfast in what he views as right and wrong, making judgement calls he's 100% sure of, and when they're challenged/disproven, he's thrown wholly out of whack. He exists to serve a purpose- what would've happened if Makoto didn't accept the truth about Sayaka? What happens when you let your idealism blind you to the truth? What happens when you blind yourself to the reality of the people around you, of the darkness in the people you care about? You self-destruct. He's tossed aside, killed as an accessory to the plot of someone who does nothing but manipulate the truth. He dies, and that's just it. His story is cut short; he doesn't get to heal or grow or come to terms with the truth. Such is the fate of the failed.

6- Afterword

...I didn't even touch his FTEs for this. Holy shit.

I'm gonna be honest, as much as I love Taka, I never expected this post would become as long as it did, or that I'd uncover such a dark fucking reason for why he gets as totally fucked over as he does. Don't get me wrong, I still really wish he'd lived and gotten to grow after this, but maybe his death was more well-written than I used to think. Good god.

[t0yac1d]

THH boys x fem!reader who’s the ultimate sukeban/delinquent but is actually super freaking nice? :D thank u sm! and if you don’t feel comfortable doing this request, it’s no problem ^^

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Boys x Ultimate Sukeban

Warnings: Chihiro Spoilers!

Notes: For those who don't know, a sukeban is a Japanese term meaning 'delinquent girl'. The usage of the word refers to either the leader of a girl gang or the entire gang itself, and is not used to refer to any one member of a girl gang. Also this posted while I was still working on it💔

Word Count: 1,108

☆Makoto Naegi was a bit scared seeing you. Your aura was intimidating and dark, your clothing was bold and different from what he's used to seeing around the school. But one day, he felt brave and confident, wanting to know who you really are and if you're the same person he's seen. What he didn't expect was for you to give him a sweet smile, a genuine one. It wasn't fake nor did it have any hint of malicious intent. He was shocked that you're actually really kind. And he was ready to see more of that.

☆Leon Kuwata was also very intimidated when he first saw you. He'd always avoid your path and you as a whole. He didn't want to he near you or your group, in fear of getting hurt. But when you asked him for the notes in your shared class, he was dumbfounded. Your voice wasn't anything like your aura or how you dressed and acted. It was sweeter, kinder, softer. Nothing he was expecting, but now he can't keep you out of his mind.

☆Hifumi Yamada always dreamed of meeting someone like you, or even being in the same vicinity as you. He's written and read about sukebans before, he always prayed to the gods to meet one and here you are. Now that you're in the same school as him and some classes, he doesn't know how to approach you. He knows sukebans are violent and mean girls, so how does he approach someone who's known for being violent and mean? By hyping yourself up and going straight to the point. He'd walk up to you and your group, introducing himself and talking about his Ultimate. What he didn't expect was for you to compliment him with a smile. He'd walk away, flustered, happy and nervous.

☆Mondo Owada takes immediate interest in you as soon as he heard about you. He knows there's a 50/50 chance that you're nice and he's willing to take that chance, especially since he is also that 50/50 chance. You just look so beautiful and strong, and the amount of confidence radiating off of you just tells him to talk to you. So he does and he's relieved that you're actually nice, and when he gets to know you he finds out that you guys have more in common than he thought. And with that he can't help but want to get to know you even more.

☆Kiyotaka Ishimaru keeps his distance from you. He can't risk being seen around you. It'll ruin his perfect reputation. At least that's what he thinks. He'd catch you in the halls during class time, and as a hall monitor he has no choice but to confront you on it. Thinking you'd give attitude or worse he prepares himself and strides up to you. He asks if you have anywhere to be and if you don't then you'd have to either go to your respective classroom or the office. His voice is loud and carries itself through the halls. You'd respond, voice opposite if his and of what he thought you'd sound like. Apologizing for the inconvenience you walk away and go to your class. Knowing how you sound and how nice you just were he can't help but want you to continue roaming the halls, just so he can talk to you, and just so he can hear your melodic voice.

☆Byakuya Togami doesn't talk to you at all. He doesn't want to be seen around you or people like you. He can't be seen around people who will ruin his reputation and who would ruin the Togami name. He avoids you but that is until you asked him about his Ultimate. You were curious as to what a Prodigy was and were dying to know. He knew you'd try talking to him, that you'd try to get his attention somehow. What he didn't know was why you sounded genuinely curious. Why your face showed genuine interest. It caught him off guard and he just didn't know why he wanted to hear you speak again. Something about your voice and sweet looking eyes drew him in. Did he appreciate his brain and heart going against him? No. But he was surprisingly thankful that you didn't stop bothering him. He liked your voice, soothing and calm, a complete contrast to your outfits and Ultimate.

☆Yasuhiro Hagakure definitely stays away from you. He already has problems with the Yakuza, he can't risk having problems with another gang. Especially the leader of one. Hearing about what happened between him and the Yakuza, you thought about helping him pay off his debt. Calling his name from the opposite side of the hall caused him to jump, it also caused other students to look and scatter, fearing of what you were about to do to the guy. He nervously asked what it is that you wanted. Expecting you to rob him or beat him, just for being in the same hallway as you. But when you pulled out a brown paper bag and handed it to him he was confused. You told him to open it and also told him to keep it, saying how you wanted to help him and that no one should be struggling to pay off the Yakuza by themselves. You walked away and he was left dumbfounded, but thankful for you, smiling to himself and also beating himself up for not thanking you right there.

☆Chihiro Fujisaki doesn't feel safe being around rough looking people, scared of getting bullied for being too weak or to girly looking for a guy. He was working on something, sitting on the ground and typing away on his computer when a guy came up and took it, teasing the smaller boy and calling him names. That's when you stepped in, grabbing the computer back and asking what the problem was, your group surrounding the space. The girls grabbed the guy and moved him to a different end of the hall, "talking" to him and leaving Chihiro with you, the leader. As thankful as he was he's still scared, wondering if you're gonna do something worse to him. You handed him his computer and asked if he was okay, also asking if he wanted to hang out at a Cafe and relax a little. He was still shocked from the events that happened but even more shocked to hear your voice, kind and calming. He accepted your offer and you smiled at him, a genuine smile, causing the boy's heart to skip beat. When you walked off he couldn't help but smile to himself.

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 3

Pairing: Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW 18+, Oral (male receiving), Masturbation

A/N: This is the first time I have ever written anything remotely smutty... that should be a warning in itself. That being said I had so much fun writing this part and can't wait to see where my brain ends up taking this. Anyways, enough of me yappin. Enjoy :))

---

Vox couldn't help the smirk that crossed his screen as he watched your nervous form slowly approach his desk. Before he was able to speak again, he heard your tiny voice squeak out.

"M-Mr. Vox... Sir... I am so sorry for being late this morning. This is the first time that I've done this. I-It was an honest mistake and I promise that-" But before you could finish your sad excuse of an apology, Vox interrupted you by raising one of his hands.

"Y/N, it's quite alright! I know that you are always good about being on time," He said smoothly and laid back in his chair.

He watched as your anxious expression slowly turned into one of confusion.

"Oh... so you're not gonna feed me to your sharks?" You asked nervously, rubbing the back of your neck- trying your best to avoid any kind of eye contact. Vox must have thought you were joking by the way a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Did he not know that you were being dead serious??

"Oh quite the contrary! Please, have a seat," He said motioning towards one of the black, leather seats situated across from his desk.

You eyed him suspiciously before doing as you were told. Once situated in the chair, you got to take a good look at the TV demon in front of you.

You always thought that he looked good while passing him in the halls. But being up close, you were able to notice details about him that you didn't see before. One of those not so little details being that he was utterly handsome. How could a man with a TV for a face look so-

Vox caught you in your brief stare, causing a light blush to come across your cheeks. He sent a smirk your way and watched as you fidgeted in the seat.

Oh, he was loving every second of this.

"So if I'm not in trouble then... why am I here?" You asked quietly, not entirely sure you wanted to know the answer.

"I am so glad you asked! While going through some writing submissions, I came across the one that you submitted a while back-" At the mention of your work, your ears perked up- a mental victory for Vox, "- And I just wanted to start off by saying WOW! I am thoroughly impressed with what I read,"

You had to be dreaming.

No way this was actually happening.

"Are- Are you serious?" You asked with a beaming smile that made Vox's heart rate spike.

"Of course! You truly have a gift,"

The best part, he wasn't lying.

-- flashback to the previous night --

Upon arriving back at the VVV tower- Vox instantly went to look for your writing submissions.

He hired people specifically to go through and narrow down the best submissions of the month. The narrowed down bunch would then be sent to himself- for him to ultimately decide whether or not they're television worthy.

Sitting down at his desk, Vox quickly found your file. Much to his surprise, you had only submit one over the course of the years that you had worked for him. Regardless, he opened it and began reading.

Vox wasn't much of a reader but even he could tell that you were good at what you did. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Your words flowed beautifully into one another, captivating the overlord almost instantly. It was truly a sinister love story. A forbidden love between an angel and sinner. Oh and his favorite part?

Without a doubt- the smut.

But this wasn't your average porn script.

It was erotic yet, truly passionate. Vox didn't know how but, you were able to capture and convey the connection that the main characters had with each other. Hell, he felt it.

But like- actually felt it.

While reading the alluring words on one of his monitors, he began to palm himself through his tight dress pants. As he moved on, he found himself becoming more hot and bothered. Soon enough, he freed his stiff erection from the confines of his pants.

With a tight hand, he began a slow pace on himself. Vox felt truly immersed in the scene he was reading- maybe a little too immersed.

He imagined that it was you and him performing the scene- not the characters you had created.

"Her lips slowly wrapped around the tip, tasting the salty arousal that began to ooze out. She relished in the groan that her beloved ushered out above her. Ingrid's Y/N's lashes fluttered as she began to ease his my cock down into her throat. She pulled back fully- watching with seductive eyes as a string of spit connected the two of them us. Ingrid She placed both hands around Luca's my slobbery shaft and gave an oh so innocent look. Teasingly, she began to kitten lick at the tip. Before he I knew it, her mouth and hands began a delicious pace. Her head bobbed up and down with the added sinister twist and tug of her hands. She moaned quietly as Luca's my hands found a tight grip in her hair-"

Vox found himself panting slightly as his impending climax was about to release. He glanced down at the hand that was tugging at his rock hard cock. He groaned imagining you underneath his desk; looking up with fire in your eyes as your small hands moved along his length, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

He couldn't help but moan loudly as his orgasm crashed over him. His hips bucked furiously up into his hand- imagining it was your pretty mouth instead. He shuddered at the thought of you swallowing every last drop of his seed.

Vox felt himself blue screen before inevitably causing a blackout throughout the entire pride ring.

After coming down from what had to of been his most intense orgasm yet, Vox had all the information he needed.

He also needed to get rid of those damn submission reviewers.

-- back to the present --

"Wow Mr. Vox, that's very kind of you. Thank you sir, it truly means the world," You replied, trying your best to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"You deserve all the praise in the world Y/N," Vox said with a small smile. You felt yourself blushing again, not used to all this praise.

You also didn't fail to notice the tiny heart beat that occurred between your crossed legs, one that you hadn't felt in a long time.

You tell yourself it's because of how much your work matters to you. Definitely not the fact that your sexy ass boss is staring at you with a panty-dropping smile.

Yeah, definitely not that.

"I want to make that little script of yours into something more. It has all the potential to become a hit movie! That is of course, if you were interested," As soon as the words left Vox's lips, you shot up eagerly.

"YES! I- I mean yes. That would be a great opportunity for me sir," You down played how excited you were but deep down, you knew he could see right through you.

Vox couldn't help but think of how adorable you looked when excited. He wanted to make all your dreams come true if it meant he got to see you like this more often. Who was he kidding?

He already planned on making it happen.

"I am so glad to hear that," Vox rose to his feet and slowly walked around his desk to where you now stood.

You gulped lightly as he towered over your tiny frame. He examined your features briefly before extending his hand out.

"I can't wait to start working with you"

---

A/N: Sorry for this being short but the next few parts are in the works ;)

[drdemonprince]

As a straight woman reader I feel very jealous of your sexual exploits because I don't feel like I could ever safely have those kinds of encounters with men. I had a lot of casual sex in my youth and unfortunately I've found that straight men tend to treat women's receptivity to casual sex as a green flag to treat us disposably and ignore boundaries (and that's just standard vanilla sex - I don't want to think about how some of the kinds of anonymous/blindfolded encounters you've talked about would go even though in a vacuum they sound fun as hell). And it's so dumb because they could all be having way more sex if they would just act right instead of letting misogyny horribly infect everything.

I also think it is important to point out that queer men have very deliberately created the spaces that allow us to have anonymous, kinky, sometimes risky sex with one another while looking out for one another, and that we had to do that due to structural homophobia and the AIDs crisis.

The fact that I can have wild, masked sex on a bed in the dark in a bathhouse with a blindfold on and condoms spread beside me is because I know am in a space where employees are monitoring the halls continually, prophylatics are freely provided, testing is freely provided on site, trans people are welcome explicitly by policy, an explicitly sexual atmosphere has been created, and a whole culture of norms and nonverbal signals have been established. This has taken a lot of money and decades of work to build and maintain.

Gay and bisexual men have had to build places to have sex with one another that are both private and secure, and that bring a large number of us together -- due to structural homophobia making it illegal for us to even have sex until the early 2000's. We have had to respond to the AIDs crisis and Monkeypox and numerous other sources of danger and violence within our communities by promoting harm reductionist sexual health policies and by learning to look after one another.

Straight people do not have such comraderie. Misogyny is absolutely a major factor -- but the privilege straight people have and the immense isolation that comes with it is a factor too. Queer people have had to pool our resources to create the spaces we need as an oppressed sexual minority.

Now, there are hardly ANY such hookup spaces for queer women because they do not have the money and resources and structural power that men, including many queer men, do, and because women's sexual agency is so absolutely neglected and penalized by our culture.

And I do think straight men unwittingly fuck up their chances of getting laid by being inept and/or predatory -- if they hadn't been so shitty as sexual partners I might not have ever transitioned! and I recommend transition to anyone who wants to have better sex with men and finds doing so appealing. But ultimately things are as they are due to structural issues.

[shymaru]

@electricea

The first thing he was aware of was the creaking of wood and the fogginess in his head, the gentle movement under him only adding to his confusion. Had he ended up falling asleep in public? No... This... This felt different. He couldn't remember being somewhere like that either. In fact... He couldn't remember any of what had happened before he'd found himself there. Where...? What on earth was happening?

"A-ah...?"

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 16

Beneath The Surface

If I told you what I was

Would you turn your back on me?

And if I seem dangerous

Would you be scared?

- ( The song of this chapter is 'Monster' by Imagine Dragons)

18 years ago

Arnav was born in Chicago. He spent the first twelve years of his life there, surrounded by relatively normal people, living a relatively normal life, before stepping foot in this country two years ago. The transition was a jarring experience. Adapting to the food, language, and traditions felt like stepping into a whole new world. On top of that, the gruelling physical training imposed on him made it all the more challenging.

He had grown up blissfully unaware of his father's ties to the mafia. He wished her mother prepared him well enough before thrusting him into this completely new world.

Blindsided and unprepared.

They lived in this sprawling multistory mansion owned by Mr.Rathore, the ultimate boss, aka the Godfather of this dangerous empire. While others had separate apartments within the estate, they all lived, ate, and trained together as one extended family. The mansion had a central open space where everyone gathered for meals, and another vast area was dedicated to training.

But Arnav’s experience was different. Unlike the boys his age who trained in the common area, he was sent to a secluded hall to train under Master Z. His full name was 'Malik al Zalam', but he preferred to call himself 'Z'. They said Master Z made lethal weapons out of human beings. He was the top trainer of the "League of Shadows." It's an assassin organization managed by the Chicago-based mafia group, "The Outfit." Arnav didn’t fully understand why he needed such extreme training from someone like Master Z, but he didn’t have a choice.

His diet was strictly monitored, and his workouts were mercilessly scheduled. For an entire week, he trained blindfolded, enduring relentless blows that left his body aching. Then another week went by slapping water. The only good part was Mr.Raizada secretly bringing him chocolate cake when Master Z and Mr.Rathore weren’t looking.

Why Mr.Raizada and Mr.Rathore insisted on preparing him this way was a mystery to him. One thing was clear, though--he wasn’t allowed to call his father “Dad” here.

If he said that didn't hurt him, it would be a lie. But he would never acknowledge that to anybody. His dad was his favourite person. He always wanted to be like him, dress like him, talk like him. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Every day, he watched the light fade a little more from his mother’s eyes. She was still here--physically--but only as a fragile shell of the woman she used to be. Her every movement seemed mechanical, driven solely by her duty to him, Anjali, and the baby growing inside her.

It tore at him in ways he couldn’t describe. She was dying in this house, suffocating under the weight of everything she couldn’t say. He wished when his new sibling was born, some of that light would return to her eyes. But deep down, a small part of him feared it might already be too late.

It was his first off day in what felt like forever, and he had plans--simple ones. After all the chaos of the past few weeks, he just wanted to play online games with his online friends and go to bed early.

The recent drama surrounding a failed wedding was still fresh in everyone's minds, but he couldn’t care less. Aunt Vedika, Mr.Rathore's younger sister, was supposed to marry someone from the Jha family, but the groom had fled before the wedding. And out of despair, he guessed, Aunt Vedika hanged herself in her room.

Mr.Rathore’s fury over his sister’s death was volcanic. Rumours circulated that he had kidnapped the daughter of the Gupta family as retaliation. Arnav didn’t know how true the whispers were, nor did he care. That world of vendettas and punishment seemed endless, and he wanted no part of it.

So, when a knock came at his door, cutting into his rare evening of freedom, he groaned inwardly. Mr. Raizada, stepped in, cradling a tiny, sleeping human in his arms.

“Can you watch her for the evening?” Mr. Raizada asked casually, as though this was an everyday request.

Arnav frowned, his gaze flicking between Mr.Raizada and the little girl, not more than four or five. “Is that the Gupta girl everyone’s been talking about?”

“I need you to watch her for me...like a few hours,” Mr.Raizada said, deftly avoiding the question.

Of all the things Arnav wanted to do with his free evening, that ranked dead last. He wasn’t shy about expressing that. “Why can’t you leave her with Mom or Anjali?”

“They’re not home,” Mr.Raizada replied, ever patient. “They went to the hospital for your mother’s check-up.”

Arnav slumped back in his chair. “I’m not doing it.”

Mr.Raizada tilted his head, considering, then offered, “What about...I’ll buy you that bike you’ve been eyeing. How’s that for a deal?”

Arnav’s scowl deepened. “Mr.Rathore doesn’t want me to have that bike.”

“You know what? Fuck Mr.Rathore,” Mr.Raizada said with a wink, laying the little girl gently on the sofa beside Arnav’s computer desk before turning to leave.

"What's her name?" Arnav asked looking at the little girl in a pink dress. She was tiny, unusually tiny.

"Khushi." Mr.Raizada replied shutting the door behind him.

And just like that, Arnav’s evening plans were obliterated by the arrival of a tiny sleeping intruder.

The little girl looked like a delicate porcelain doll, her tiny face framed by a cascade of dark curls that framed her head like a halo. She looked very fragile with her rosy, chubby cheeks and a button-like nose. 

He noticed her shivering, the icy temperature of his room too harsh for someone so small. He sighed and grudgingly adjusted the thermostat before grabbing the throw blanket folded neatly at the edge of the sofa. His mother always insisted on keeping it there for aesthetics, a habit he found unnecessary--until now. Draping it gently over the girl, he realized how useful his mother's quirks could be in moments like these.

Satisfied that she was warm, he slipped on his headphones and lost himself in his game, the familiar world of strategy and fantasy pulling him in. Time passed unnoticed, his focus entirely on defeating opponents and levelling up.

When he finally glanced back at the sofa, he froze. The little girl was awake, her enormous eyes--disproportionately large for her tiny face--fixed on him. They reminded him of cartoon characters, wide and unblinking, filled with a mix of curiosity and drowsiness.

What if she started crying?

He had no idea what he would do if she burst into tears. But the girl didn’t cry. She simply sat there staring at him, her chubby little head tilted slightly, her confusion mirroring his own.

"Uh... hi?" he tried awkwardly, unsure if she could even understand him.

The girl blinked, her small hands clutching the edge of the throw blanket. She yawned, her expression still half-asleep, and continued watching him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the room. And then out of nowhere, she smiled.

A completely radiant smile.

A smile that turned her cartoonish eyes into twinkling half-moons.

It lit up her entire tiny face.

He felt his own lips twitch as well.

Another knock at his door and he exhaled a sigh of relief, hoping it was Mr.Raizada coming to take the girl off his hands. But it was Omprakash, one of Mr.Rathore's loyal staff.

“Arnav Baba, Vikrant Sir asked to take the girl to the basement,” Omprakash said flatly.

The basement!!

Nothing good ever happened in the basement. It wasn’t a place for a little girl like her, hell, it wasn’t a place for anyone, not even grown men.

Since moving here, he had spent most of his free time exploring the sprawling property that Mr.Rathore called home. His curiosity eventually led him to discover the basement’s grim purpose. It was a place of torture, where information was extracted, enemies were punished, and murders were carried out.

What did they plan for this little girl?

Were they going to hurt her as retaliation for Aunt Vedika's death?

Or worse, were they going to do something similar to what they’d done to Payal?

His heartbeat escalated.

She was so young for any of this.

And so defenceless.

And so so small.

Omprakash didn’t hesitate, scooping the girl into his arms and heading toward the basement. She clung to the throw blanket Arnav had wrapped her in, her tiny face peeking over Omprakash’s shoulder.

Arnav hesitated only for a moment before springing into action. He needed to know what they were planning. Discreetly, he followed Omprakash down the hall, his footsteps light and deliberate. And the whole way, the little girl kept looking at Arnav over Omprakash's shoulder.

With her huge cartoonish hazel eyes.

Present day

She still has those cartoonish eyes.

And he wants to see those eyes as the life drained out of them, those damning eyes that push him into hell.

Every fucking time.

Every fucking way.

He watches her from the shadows as her car moves past the gates of the Gupta mansion, just like he spent years watching her from afar. She is both a punishment and a compulsion. She is a living wound that festers in his soul, poisoning his every thought.

Hatred claws at his chest, sharp and unrelenting, but beneath it lies something darker, something he refuses to acknowledge. He hates her with a rage so consuming it burns through his veins like wildfire. His hatred has a pulse, a rhythm that quickens every time he sees her.

It infuriates him.

It fascinates him.

And one day, he will take what he owes, and maybe then he'll find some peace. Maybe then, his chest wouldn't feel so tight every fucking second of every single day. Every single day she lived, every single day he survived.

Every single fucking day.

He's been thinking about it for so long.

She is going to die at his hands.

The most beautiful death.

It will be a sight to behold.

The roar of the bike engine fills the night air as he races down the empty streets. The cold wind bites at his skin, but it does little to cool the fire of his thoughts. The images of her, are like ghosts riding alongside him.

Haunting and relentless.

Her eyes, her defiance, the way she looked at him with a mix of fear and something else he couldn't quite place. His grip tightens on the handlebars.

Her voice echoes in the distance of his mind, soft and light, as though it isn’t built on the ruins of his life. It mocks him and tempts him until he can’t look away. She shouldn’t have this...this liberty to torment him. She shouldn’t exist at all. And yet, his mind is a prison, every thought chained to her. He imagines her face when he isn’t trying to, her voice slipping into his ears unbidden. The curve of her lips, the way her hair falls against her cheek...it infuriates him how clearly he can picture it all.

And then there’s the way she moves, the way she smiles at people who don’t deserve it, at men who dare to stand too close. It sends a rush of fury through him, cold and bitter. She doesn’t see him watching, doesn’t know he lingers on the edges of her life, orchestrating and unravelling her world in equal measure.

Something darker, stranger and far more dangerous coils tightly around his hatred, suffocating and exhilarating. He despises himself as much as he despises her for letting his hatred be tainted, for letting his hatred cross a line. His hatred isn’t pure anymore. It’s stained with something way more sinister.

It’s an infection, a sickness, a madness that grows with every passing day. And yet, he cannot stop.

She is his punishment.

His fixation.

His downfall.

All his life, he thrives on control in every aspect. And he has achieved it. Every emotion, every instinct, is meticulously reined in...his anger, his hatred towards her, and the burning urge to track her down and end her life.

And she comes and wrecks it all.

He hates her more for it. But, he hates her most for the way he craves her...

She is unbearable to look at.. intolerable even, not granting the mercy of looking away. Everything about her exudes a perilous beauty, like a rose unapologetically flaunting its thorns. She's alluring in the way deadly things often are.

Her beauty is..dangerously toxic.

It's venomous.

It's alarming.

It's unsettling.

He remembers how she looked earlier this evening. Every part of him burned the fire so fiercely it almost felt like his skin was being seared by her presence alone. His body stirred without his permission, a brutal, bone-meting wave of desire crashing through him, leaving him weak, exposed. He gritted his teeth fighting the rush, but it was futile, an insatiable hunger sank into his bones, making it impossible to think of anything else but her.

She was so close, yet a universe way. His hands twitched at his sides desperate to touch, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Every inch of her called to him..her smile, her eyes, the curve of her neck, her bare back...

It's intoxicating.... lethally captivating.

It ripped through him, tearing apart his control, leaving nothing but an overwhelming need that clawed at his chest. His eyes raked over her, and the sight of her..so effortlessly enthralling, so unaware of the chaos she stirred....

He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to lose himself in the softness of her body, wanted to strip away every layer of resistance until there was nothing between them but skin, heat, and the sound of their breath.

His body reacted before his mind caught up, hard, aching, and wild with the need to claim her, to possess her completely. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to look away, but it was no use. She's seared into his mind, every part of her haunting him, wrapping him tighter in the need to break her apart and piece her back together in his image.

He turns his bike sharply, the screech of tyres breaking the silence of the empty streets. Her name echoes in his head, both a mantra he can’t silence and a curse.

He hates her for what she does to him. But more than that, he hates how he can't control himself around her...And it sickens him. He wants to destroy her, wants to ruin her for anyone else because if he can't have her, no one can.

There's no reason left. No logic. Only the raw, primal urge to have her, to mark her as his, to remind her that she belongs to his rage, his grief, his chaos.

He made plans, damnit.

Meticulous plans, to end the cycle.

To end her.

All his revenge would be served, and he wouldn’t even have to pull the trigger himself. He could simply sit back and enjoy the show.

It feels like fate is mocking him. The last 18 years of his life were spent believing who she was not. She is not who the world thinks she is.

Yet, still, she was the catalyst of the chaos that consumed his life. All the deaths he endured and caused, all the blood staining his hands.

He bought her life at the cost of countless others.

It shouldn't change anything for him after knowing who she is. He should have let his plan work as it is. He should have let the Wolves end her tonight.

But he is here again.

Back to square one.

Protecting her from the monsters again.

One that he unleashed upon the world.

And one that is raging within him.

The city lights blur into streaks of colour as his bike speeds through the empty streets. A creature of night.

When it comes to monsters, there's always one bigger and more vicious than the rest, like the one he’s about to hunt tonight.

Sex trafficking and the red-light district trade are colossal enterprises within the Triad, encompassing casinos, clubs, and high-society escort services hidden behind the facade of luxury resorts and hotels like The Crown and many more like that. All three families reap the rewards, their coffers overflowing from this grim business.

To avoid internal wars and eliminate competition, the Triad formed a separate syndicate solely for this venture. Profits are divided into four parts: one for each family and one for the employees. This syndicate, known as the Triad Tribe, operates independently, answering only to a specific captain, a leader chosen annually by the three bosses. It is an important position, overseeing a fortune that flows through the darkest veins of society.

That reminds him, he has a meeting with the Triad Tribe captain, Dhruv Rao, early tomorrow morning. He plans to approach the Tribe defensively. If Dhruv Rao gives him what he wants, he might grant the man a few months of reprieve...maybe.

The business of the Tribe has been bleeding losses for the family ever since their international shipment of trafficked women was intercepted by the CBI five years ago, due to an anonymous tip. Since then, the Triad Tribe has halted human trafficking operations overseas, focusing instead on managing red-light areas, brothels, casinos, and clubs.

However, controlling internal trafficking and sexual coercion has proven trickier. Over the last few years, brothels and clubs have faced frequent police raids--again, sparked by anonymous tips. While these raids rarely shut the businesses down permanently, they freed many girls held there against their will.

And through this very process, he has quietly built a network of spies within the Triad Tribe. The rehabilitation centre he's funded anonymously became a refuge for these rescued women. Some of them, determined to save others, agree to act as his informants. Pretending to be sex workers, they infiltrate the operations, gathering intel for him.

It is through one of these spies that he's learned about a Wolves member, currently indulging himself in a hotel room above one of the triad tribe clubs--a man working in the family’s security detail. Not the head himself, Adam Hunt, an ex-American Navy SEAL, but someone linked to him. The same man whose subordinates accosted Miss Gupta tonight.

According to his spy within the Wolves family, they still don’t know anything about the killing of Preetika Nair. If that were true, then why is this man in the city?

Dressed in all black, he moves like a Ghost. A mask covers his face from the nose down, and the hood of his leather hoodie is pulled low, shrouding his features. The darkness is his ally, and he knows how to disappear within it.

Tonight, he carries no firearms--only his crossbow. The absence of a gun doesn’t bother him. If anything, it adds a thrill to the hunt. Looks like he’ll have to get creative with this motherfucker.

Holding the upper edges of the window, he leaps onto the pipe running along the side of the building. His muscles, guided by memory, move efficiently as he begins to climb, one foot pressing against the window frame, the other braces on the pipe.

Stopping at the window five stories above, he peers inside and spots Vishal Hegre sprawled on the bed, grinning as two girls service him.

Moving with feline stealth, his parkour and martial arts training taking over, he swings to hang from one hand, the other securing a firm grip on the windowsill. Ensuring the room's occupants remain engrossed, he eases the window open and slips inside, landing silently before ducking behind a large couch in the dimly lit room.

"Damn window," Vishal mutters irritably. "Go close it."

One of the girls gets up, shuts the window, and returns to the bed.

Straightening, he strides to the foot of the bed and retrieves the crossbow behind his back. Before anyone can react, he fires, embedding an arrow squarely into Vishal Hegre's palm and nailing it to the headboard. A bloodcurdling scream rips through the room as Hegre thrashes, his wide, frantic eyes darting until they land on the figure in the shadows. Terror overtakes him.

Arnav raises a gloved finger to his lips, a silent command for the girls to stay quiet.

His gaze shifts to a wallet lying on the floor near the bed. Picking it up, he pulls out the bulging bills inside and tosses them onto the bed between the trembling women.

"Get dressed," his distorted voice commands through the modulator. "Mr. Hegre no longer requires your services."

The girls scramble to comply, heads down, avoiding the sight of the man writhing on the bed. Just as they’re about to leave, his voice echoes in the dark again.

"And what will you say when you go outside?"

"Nothing, sir," they whisper in unison, their voices shaking.

The door clicks shut behind them, locking the door automatically, leaving Hegre alone with him.

"What do you want?" Hegre stammers, still struggling to free his hand from the headboard.

"They all ask the same questions," Arnav remarks. "What do you want? Who are you?"

Ignoring the man’s pleading, he moves to the table, inspecting a bottle of whiskey. It’s a good brand. Opening it, he begins pouring the amber liquid around the edges of the bed, emptying the bottle methodically. Then he fetches another bottle from the cabinet and returns, tipping some onto the writhing Hegre, soaking him in the sharp scent of alcohol.

"Are you the one killing the Triad associates?" Hegre babbles, his voice breaking. "No--please! I'll give you anything! Anything you want!"

Ah, fear. Good old fear. His old friend. They reunite again.

He has been methodically dismantling the Triad, one member, one associate at a time--silently, ruthlessly. Each death was a calculated move, a slow bleed that weakened the organization from within. He moves like a ghost. Guess, his reputation precedes him. They feel the fear before they even know he’s there.

Hegre reeks of desperation and fear, the stench mingling with alcohol and urine. Disgust flickers across Arnav’s face. It isn’t just the smell, it’s the sound of his voice--grating, unbearable.

It disgusts him even more when he starts craving her voice, soft yet commanding, the one he can still hear in his mind.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing Hegre’s hair in a firm, gloved grip, he yanks hard, eliciting another cry of pain.

"Drink," he orders.

Gulping and trembling, Hegre opens his mouth obediently. Arnav tips the bottle, pouring its raw contents down the man’s throat. Hegre chokes and coughs, sputtering as the fiery liquid burns its way down. When the bottle is nearly empty, Arnav steps back, watching as a fleeting look of relief crosses Hegre’s face.

He lets him cling to it.

For now.

He drags a chair in front of him and sits down, quietly watching him.

People always underestimate the power of silence, the way it makes people squirm, their thoughts racing for an answer, a reason. He lets the silence take over, never speaking a word, knowing full well it will force their imagination to run wild.

Will he kill them? How? A bullet to the head? A quick, painless death, or something far slower, more drawn out? Would he make them beg? Suffer? Twist their limbs, pull their skin? Or perhaps strip them of something deeper, something that would never heal?

He doesn't need to ask them anything. He knows that the longer he sits there unwavering, the more their minds will unravel, and they'd begin to question their own fate. And when they crack, when they show the first sign of weakness, then he will strike.

Quietly.

Efficiently.

"I'll tell you everything just get this thing out of my hand," Hegre says again sweating like a dog. It's pathetic, the snot, the tears as he blubbers like a baby. "P..please."

"Why are the Wolves in this area?" Arnav asks as he watches Hegre squirm.

"Umm....to..to kill the Gupta girl."

"Why?"

"Because...Shyam Jha's minion killed Mr.Naik's daughter."

"Hmm..You're an interesting person, Mr. Hegre. Your men are dead, lying by the side of the road, and you're getting your cock sucked?"

"They said they'd got it under control," Hegre mutters, his voice cracking, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

"Tsk, tsk, overconfidence is never good," Arnav clicks his tongue. "So you started the celebration early, huh? What will Mr. Hunt say about that?"

"I don't give a fuck what that American dog thinks," Hegde spits out. "I have worked for the wolves for so long...and when the head of security was to be determined, it went to that fucking bastard. I will show him I am better than him. I wanted to get the work done and surprise Mr. Naik."

"So...Mr.Hunt doesn't look know that you are here or what you were going to do?"

"No."

"Who else knows about the serpent involvement besides you?"

"No one."

"Your men?"

"Those who knew, I sent them to do that job."

A Police siren wails in the distance heightening Hegre's panic. "Let me go, man! I can't get caught here. I have a reputation."

"Mr.Hegre, do you know how hard it is to keep the Wolves from finding out who killed Miss Naik?"

Hegre's eyes widen. "You have killed the right hand man of that American dog, haven't you?"

"He was too close to find out....but you amazed me, you slipped under my radar...how did you find out?"

"The bomb...that killed Miss Naik..I knew who can make this bomb. I worked with him before..he is one of the Serpent."

"And you didn't share this information with Mr.Hunt?"

"No....You...are the one they call 'The Ghost', right?" Hegde's eyes are telling Arnav that he knows his time is up, that he knows what they say on the street that nobody sees 'The Ghost' unless he is going to die. "Listen, let me go, I'll join forces with you. I have a family, two daughters. I can't be caught here. I would die of shame."

Arnav watches him squirm some more, his voice calm but cutting. "Let me end your misery then."

He flickes a lighter which he retrieved earlier that day, directly from the boss himself. A snake is engraved in it, the sign of The Serpents. He tosses it onto the bed. Flames erupt immediately, licking up the soaked sheets and spreading quickly. Hegre's screams grow louder as the fire consumes him. So does the Police siren.

He jumps back from the window to the narrow alley behind the club, leaving behind a symbol of the serpent in the scene.

A warning, A massage.

For the Serpent, because this lighter will soon find Mr.Gupta. And he will know 'the Ghost' is coming after the serpent next. He is closer than they think.

The mafia war between the Serpent and the Wolves needs to start, but he has to make sure the little bird remains untouched.

She’s off-limits. No one dares lay a finger on her. He will burn the entire city down and raze it to the ground before letting anything happen to her.

Only he has the right to kill her.

No one else.

The morning light pours through the glass surrounding his high-rise office. The city below remains a blur of waking motion, but up here, he is alone, staring at the picture of a girl he hasn’t seen in sixteen years. It’s not her real photograph, just an AI-enhanced image, aged from her childhood picture to reflect what she might look like now. He hopes, almost desperately, that it matches the real person.

His jaw clenches. So many years of searching, of following false leads, of tracking shadows...and now, here she is again, in front of him, just out of reach.

He has been actively searching since he returned to this country; not once did he think to look into the Triad tribe. He should have. He doesn’t know why he overlooked it. Since when did Mr. Rathore ever keep his promises?

"Sir, Mr.Rao is here."

"Send him in."

Dhruv Rao enters the room, his easy grin at odds with the aura he carries. Once a street fighter, now one of the Triad tribe's most trusted soldiers. He started as an underground fighter and fought his way up the ranks. At such a young age, he’s become the captain of the Triad tribe, mainly due to his tenacity and his ability to command the soldiers in the streets.

"Hello, boss, what's up?" Despite his reputation in the underground arena as a fearless fighter, he is quite chirpy.

Arnav motions for him to take a seat.

"Let’s get to business first, Mr.Rao." Arnav wastes no time. "I want a favour."

"Anything, Boss."

He slides the picture across the table. "I want you to arrange this girl for me," Arnav says, gritting his teeth. He’s been searching for her everywhere. He never imagined Mr. Rathore would hide her in a place like that. But the recognition in Dhruv's eyes tells him that he has seen her before.

Damn it.

"No can do, boss," Rao responds quickly, shaking his head. "That one’s exclusive for Mr.Rathore. No one’s allowed near her room except him."

Arnav’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his composure. "And, where it is?...Her room?"

Rao hesitates, "Boss, I am really sorry. I can't give you her location. It's not permissible. Mr.Rathore passed even strict orders to inform him if anybody does look for her.....she lives like a princess in there."

He could have approached Rao in the shadows and instilled the fear of God in him until he spilled everything. But Arnav has no intention of ruffling the feathers of the Godfather of the families, not yet. Let them bask in their false sense of security a little longer.

Arnav’s eyes narrow, his voice quiet. "Mr. Rao, let’s not make this unpleasant...let not expose youself to the bosses for the minor hiccups you have over the year...they might not take them lightly. They could even start questioning your loyalty."

"I don't understand." But Rao's eyes say he knows and understands clearly.

"Hmm... let me reprase it so that you’ll understand. Why do your reports show fewer girls when I know you’re bringing in double? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to count......"

Rao gulps first, then shifts in his seat, his confidence wavering. Rao looks uneasy but doesn’t falter. "Mr.Raizada, when I was summoned, I knew I wouldn’t walk out alive. If I give you the information, I’m dead anyway. If I don’t, I die too. But man to man, I really hope you’ll give me a chance to fight for my life." He pauses, his voice dropping a little. "Next week, there’s a match. You win, I’ll tell you everything. I win, we forget this conversation ever happened. I’m a simple man, boss. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire of these family matters."

Arnav studies him for a moment, then smirks. "A match, huh? Feeling pretty confident, Rao."

Rao straightens up, his smile returning. "They don’t call me Show Stopper for nothing."

Arnav lets the silence stretch for a moment, before he simply says, "Done."

As Dhruv Rao exits his office, Arnav dials a familiar number.

"I miss you too, bestie," comes through the line, after the first ring.

Mathur's annoyingly smug and sleepy tone made Arnav sigh. He summons every ounce of patience he can muster. At times, he isn’t sure if he wants to strangle the man or laugh at his absurdity. Somehow, though, the bastard is probably the only person on the planet who can get away with calling him bestie. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

"Wake up, Asshole."

"Why, who died?" Mathur mumbles, the sound of a yawn escaping.

"You’re about to," Arnav snaps. "If you don’t show up in the office in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay Mr. Grumpy-pants, make it 45," Mathur replies lazily, then his tone turns serious. "How was the meeting?"

Arnav scoffs in the solitude of his office. The meeting hadn’t gone as he intended.

"Keep an eye on Dhruv Rao. Hack his phone. GPS, earphones, everything. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to."

Author’s Note:

Hello, everyone. I’m back and excited to share the chapter. I went to have some vitamin sea and it was a much needed escape from the hectic life.

Let me know how you are liking this dark version of ASR. Also I am open for suggestions. Leave a comment if there's any other way you want to see him.

Bye, bye.

<previous> | <next>

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @9artsdragon @chaiandtakkar @msbhagirathi

[onlymurdersintheafterparty]

OMITB S4:E3 ‘Two for the Road’

This episode was interesting and raised even more questions. While we start off and end the episode with the trio, in most of the episode we watch them branch off with their respective actors and have their own mini adventures. I thought it was a great idea to give us a better idea of who Zach, Eugene, and Eva are in this universe and to delve more into the main characters’ personalities apart from each other. There were several bombshells dropped so as always spoilers are behind the cut.

At the beginning of the episode, we find out from Detective Williams that the FBI has taken over meaning she won’t be on the case. That doesn’t stop her from giving them what information she does have as well as breaking the fourth wall in reference to the three previous seasons which was hilarious. We also learn that she’s a fan of Zach Galifianakis when she discovers the actors are also in the apartment and threatens Oliver not to let him get hurt and implies he’s her hall pass 🤭 Honestly same bc the man is not only hilarious but handsome as well. Shortly after she leaves is when everyone branches off so I’m going to break up each segment based off the duo.

Oliver and Zach don’t do any intentional sleuthing this episode. Oliver is fed up with Zach’s indifference and lack of desire to connect so he lies saying they need to monitor the ham radio and whisks him off to his apartment. I know Oliver is a mess but I really don’t like the way that Zach treats him like a loser. At some point they appear to bond as Oliver teaches Zach how to snort, grunt, and dress like him which seems to have gone well until Zach is overheard saying otherwise. Howard tries his best to stand up for Oliver in that passive aggressive way and we know he means well but it ultimately does nothing to change Zach’s impression. I agree on one thing though: Oliver’s resilience and choosing to wake up happy every day despite the chaos is admirable. That’s what life is about because every day is a chance to change your fate.

Charles and Eugene’s dynamic was different. Are they buddies? No but they both have the same goal in mind which is to get Vince to take off his eyepatch to see if he’s hiding damage from the gun recoiling. These two clearly share one brain cell because every attempt failed. First they come up with a story about Charles having a cousin who is an eye doctor with magic eye drops that they swear will work wonders. Instead of taking off his eyepatch then and there, Vince instead goes into the privacy of his bathroom. Take two goes even worse because Eugene’s idea of doing a spit take to get the eyepatch off leads to him getting punched in the face by Vince after he spits water on him. It does lead to a clue though. When they all hug it out, Eugene notices a photograph and signals for Charles to view it. It’s all the Westies and a figure with their face scribbled out. What in the world is going on here? Is Dudenoff Moriarty? Is Dudenoff not even involved and someone else just utilized his apartment as originally suspected? I’m so confused.

Mabel and Eva were giving frenemies. No actual hate, just two people forced together with nothing in common. Though her methods were unconventional and unhinged, Eva did manage to get a lot of info for Mabel.

The gun on the mantle is a movie prop that shoots nerf gun like ammo

Christmas Guy HATES Christmas; now this had me shook ngl; this man is a fitness influencer who has been typecast into a Christmas role and is basically held hostage by his decor 😭

The tinsel is not tinsel!

A few days ago I made a post about a theory regarding the killer(s) and whether or not they were in attendance at the party in the S3 finale and @bbeeebbo brought up a really good point about the tinsel being a red herring for Christmas Guy and that it very well could have been from the party. While we have yet to confirm if it was from the party, we now have confirmation that it’s actually not tinsel at all!

The sleuthing with the two ends shortly after this reveal and we see Mabel get the idea to look up squatter’s rights and temporarily move into the Dudenoff apartment. When they all reunite at the end for Mabel’s housewarming party, they put their clues together and realize that 445 is a radio frequency. Earlier when Mabel and Eva were sleuthing they discovered a ham radio in the Christmas apartment as well so clearly the Westies have some secret communication going on. When Mabel turns on the radio to the right frequency, a woman responds and tells them to stop snooping because the last person that did so is dead (Sazz). She also was in a hurry to disconnect giving the impression she’s on the run. Is she the mysterious Dudenoff or a tenant we have yet to meet? I’m so confused!

Final Thoughts

I feel like the writers have caught on to how smart the redditors are because a lot of theories were confirmed or debunked this episode. Someone theorized Mabel might end up squatting in the Dudenoff apartment which she does at the end of the episode and another theorized that Vince’s eyepatch was to cover a bruise from the gun’s recoil which is false (he actually does have pink eye and it’s gnarly 🤢). I’m bracing myself for the moment in the season finale where everything was obvious af and I was just overthinking everything 😂 What do you guys think so far now that we’re 3 episodes into the season?

[shymaru]

As much as that statement troubled him he didn't have the time to ponder over it, excusing himself and ensuring he had everything before swiftly walking off as fast he could without breaking the rules. There was far too much he had to tend to and whatever that had been could wait until he could focus on it.

"I-I... I-I should go... F-farewell..."

@shymaru | Cont. from X

He shook his head slightly, barely perceivable, as if being judgmental against someone who was unaware. In his own mind, though, he was somewhat concerned, the sense of something being wrong disturbing him.

"Class, hm? How odd."

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Round 5 Match 1

Propaganda:

L -

"You KNOW he had to be on this list. He's the icon, the legend. Hates shoes. Sits bisexually. Holds everything like it's on fire. King of remote work (responsible, probably predicted the pandemic ten years before it happened). Decided to handcuff himself to his #1 suspect for the most dangerous murderer in human history. There's some bonus material in one of the newer death note side-story collections that confirms he does not dress himself and bathes by being put into a washing machine. Can fly a helicopter. Special interest is knowing exactly where you live. You know who this man is."

Ishimaru -

"His title is "Super High School Level Hall Monitor" or "Ultimate Moral Compass" (depending on which translation we are going with). He was literally scouted by Hope's Peak Academy because he is very best at being the best boy. He is so hell bent on being the best student possible, that when the killing game starts his first concerned with not being able to attend classes. He's so hard working that he struggles to socialize with his peers (which is very relatable). When he tries to step in as the class leader, everyone else ignores him (which is also relatable). He naturally talks loud and doesn't seem aware of how strongly he comes off when talking to others. But even when he is scolding someone for their misbehavior, he does so because he wants to bring out the best in them. Kiyotaka puts 300% into everything he does on principal (and because he feels like it is his duty to restore his family's name). Many of his Free Time events center around him trying to figure out the "logic" in what other people do (such as why they would spend time playing video games/watching TV or why Makoto wears his jacket when it is against the school's dress code). Ishimaru Kiyotaka is easily one of the most autistic-coded characters in the Danganronpa series."