#both of which are pretty subjective and not really evidence based. so i dropped it

[mirror-ralsei]

MINI THEORY: Egg-veryman

Look, I'm not the first or only person to believe the man behind the tree might be Everyman. Just from a quick search, here's a theory and depiction preceding mine: 1 (huecycles), 2 (JJayBlaze123).

But as of the Spamton Sweepstakes, I do agree they're our most likely candidate. Here's a breakdown of all the evidence that personally led me to that conclusion.

Let's take a look at details we know about the egg man that might help us identify him:

The room's layout resembles mysteryman and “[redacted]”

He seems to exist in a cat state, just like the eggs he gives.

Noelle's story may imply, if the man is anything like his eggs, that the man is disturbing in some way.

There is graffiti clue of the egg tree in the same color as the ICE-E spraypaint in the alley. (Credit to VGFM for noticing this!)

He can be seen in a car.

While in the car, he is waving at us, and he “might be happy to see” us.

Spamton may know him.

He has never spoken out loud.

Comparing this to Everyman:

Everyman has not appeared in the overworld yet. (Unconfirmed)

We don't know enough about UTDR's cat states or Everyman to confirm or deny this point. (Unconfirmed)

Everyman is disturbing enough to have their first appearance be in the True Lab lmao (Likely)

Graffiti of Everyman is right next to the ICE-E graffiti. (Plausible)

We don't know if Everyman can drive lol (Unconfirmed)

We don't know if Everyman would wave to us or not, since we know little about them, but they are described as “Just a good guy who shows up on occasion,” and “might be happy to see you” seemingly would either be a reference to a cat state (as in “they might be happy, they might not be”), or referring to being uncertain if the egg man is happy (as in “they might be happy, but I could be wrong”) - the latter would make sense, as Everyman has never emoted with their face in any appearance so far, and would thus be difficult to read. (Plausible)

We don't know for sure if Spamton knows Everyman, but we do have this interesting line: “WE DON'T NEED ANY [Man, Woman or Child] [At Half-Price]!” While it's unclear what character, if any, “[At Half-Price!]” is referring to*, every other bracket in these “WE DON'T NEED...”s seems to indicate a character Spamton knows: [Easels] seems to be Swatch, [CRTs] seems related to an upcoming Chapter 3 character from the “cathode crew,” and obviously there's Mike. And I suspect that “[Man, Woman or Child]” may indicate “Everyman.” It includes the “man” part while throwing out a generic umbrella for a lot of people - "every." (Plausible)

Everyman has never spoken out loud. In fact, their silence is such a notable part of their character that their Queen battle cameo has them give a noticably blank dialogue bubble, in stark contrast with all the others. They visibly fall to their knees in agony when overtaken by butterflies, but cannot scream. Even their visual design has them noticably lacking a mouth. (Likely)

As you can see, many of these points range from plausible matches to confirmed ones. And the remaining points are left inconclusive, not deconfirmations.

There's also these additional clues:

The egg given to Noelle was titled ““SPECIAL”” in quotations and without a period. In the first documentation of Everyman's name, Fox replied “”Everyman”” exclusively in quotations and without a period.

Noelle notes that the egg “didn't seem to be doing anything" - in most of Everyman's appearances, they do not move, with the exceptions being after they are attacked and taken over by butterflies, and while they are propelled by a carousel (but still stationary themself).

Everyman is made of round shapes, which could concievably allow them to appear in Cat Petterz.

Subjectively, Everyman resembles a white, embryonic-looking bird, all of which relate to eggs. Spamton even mentions the white color of the egg man's eggs when saying “A WHITE ONE, THAT'S SURELY [another man's treasure].”

Subjectively, I think the Waltz of Seccom Masada, or whatever the egg room theme is called now, suits the Everyman character very well: starts in major key to indicate friendliness, but something is slightly, unnervingly off about it...strange, even. (ba dum tss) Everyman's visual design is similarly made up of round, friendly shapes, yet is very disturbing due to a variety of factors.

“Just a good guy who shows up on occasion” perfectly describes the egg man's appearances behind the trees.

Again, Everyman is also heavily tied to the term “man”: both with “Everyman” and “strangeman.”

Literally clones their head like an egg.

We know little about Everyman, but what we do know seems to line up with the man behind the tree.

*(If I could hazard a guess, I don't actually think [At Half-Price!] is referring to a character, but a property about [Man, Woman, or Child]. Specifically, I think Spamton means that the character has been "cut in half" in some way. Why do I think this? See my theory about division through reflection, a motif that seems to be cropping up a lot.)

[choco-cherry-chunk]

Uh-oh, part 2, part 2:

Modern BBC Ghosts AU a la Cherry (i.e., with mpreg bullshit) - Part 2

PART 2

“Who did you tell?” Despite having Mia in her lap as she sat on the floor (tummy time was become a fundamental afternoon activity in their house), Alison managed to look pretty damn accusatory.

Mike tried not to look as offended as he felt. “What makes you think I told anyone?”

The subject of their neighbor’s potential pregnancy had been a subject of debate for the Cooper couple of late. They were new parents, they were usually too tired to watch television, sue them for wanting to talk about something other than breast pumps and unmatched socks once in a while. Mainly said conversations centered around either a) how likely this situation may be based on whatever evidence they gathered, and b) when The Captain would come to the same conclusion they had and “tell them” the news (after he told his husband, of course). In the week since the man had helped Mike bring the groceries in and gotten sick in their sink, both had seen little of him. There were occasional waves through the window as one of them was leaving the house. Different visitors who came over to the Cooper flat may have mentioned him, to which they did their best not to dive onto the information. But no luck on a concrete answer, and thus nothing had changed on their subject of conversation. Except…

Mike hadn’t meant to say anything. Really, he hadn’t. Hell, he wasn’t a true gossip in the manner of some of their other neighbors. All it had been was a slip of the tongue. Robin had invited him over to show him how to repair a lamp he’d bought at a charity shop. He even suggested Mia be brought along, seeing no harm in her presence for a lesson in wire repair So, with his daughter strapped to his chest and a desk lamp in hand, Mike made his way up to Robin’s apartment.

The place was a lot cleaner than one probably would have given the guy credit for. Most of the mess was just clutter from various repair projects or dirt from plants he was growing. And maybe some animal hair, but that was mainly from the furs that covered much of his furniture. The place looked like an old Abercrombie advert. Not that Mike would say anything. He knew Robin had quirks and who was he to judge? Especially when the guy did all the electric stuff in the place for free and was actually pretty cool when it came to showing Mike how to maintain plants.

The lamp’s repairs hadn’t taken much time and, while Mike wanted to believe he was getting better at understanding Robin’s way of speaking, he’s only understood maybe a third of his instructions, and accepted the likelihood of needing to return for his help in the future. Finished with the task, the two elected to share a beer before Mike returned home with Mia to start dinner. Said girl was enraptured with her own invented game of trying to grab Robin’s fingers while he nudged at her hands and feet.

“She faster now.” Robin asserted, barely slipping from her touch as she reached at her toes. “Got fast fast.”

“Yeah, like a weed, this one.” Mike agreed, dropping a hand onto the top of her head, “She’s gonna be six months in a few weeks. Can you believe that?”

“Can. Still fast.” Robin nodded, grinning when he let her catch his finger and she tried to draw to her mouth. He glanced up and noted that Mike shook his head before he pulled it away to continue the game, “Was little baby, now big baby. Soon bigger baby.”

“Time flies, man.” He agreed, taking a pull from his beer. “But hey, won’t be without a little baby around here for too long, right?” The comment was casual, good-natured.

“What you mean?” Robin laughed at the same time that Mia did when she managed to kick at the center of his palm. Mike couldn’t help laughing too. His girl’s humor was contagious.

“Well, you know, the Captain’s ba—” He trailed off, eyes wide. Robin’s gaze slid up to meet Mike’s. The room was silent, save for Mia’s noises of vague protest, unhappy that her game had come to a sudden stop.

“Cap’in’s what?”

“Nothing. His nothing. Listen, thanks again for the help. And the drink. Pretty sure Mia’s gonna get fussy soon, so we’re gonna go—” Putting the bottle on the kitchen counter, Mike adjusted Mia in her Bjorn and started for the door.

“What’s Cap’in’s nothing?” Robin tried to call after him, following him out of the kitchen and pausing in his living room, “Leave lamp?”

“Yeah, the lamp looks good with all the leaves. See you later, Robin.” Mike couldn’t get back to their flat soon enough. The door was barely locked before Mia started to cry and he had to change her. Before long, he started to forget he even slipped with Robin.

But Robin didn’t. Mike’s words turned over in his mind as he tossed the bottles and moved the lamp (Mike was right – it did look good tucked between the Birds of Paradise and the Dracaena Lisa). It was still on his mind when Julian arrived for their usual chess game, the man content to enter Robin’s apartment with the spare key and dig through his cabinets for glasses, already in the middle of rambling about something his current client did that he personally deemed ridiculous – even as his complaints breached some code of ethics. It was only when they’d finished their second round and were delving into a best of five that Julian noticed the reflective state of his game companion.

“What’s eating you, mate? You look like you swallowed a bee or something.” Julian snorted out a chuckle at his description, “Knew chap a decade or so ago. Actually did swallow a bee. Looked like one of those blob fish for a week.”

Robin paid little mind to the man’s anecdote, instead fussing with the hair of the deer skin spread on his armchair. “You know… about Cap’in’s nothing?”

Julian frowned. “Captain’s nothing? Like a sweet nothing? Don’t think that’s what people call them these days. Some shit about “partner” like they’re cowboys.”

“No. Not him. His nothing. His baby nothing. Mike say it.” Robin tried to explain, pausing to move a rook across the board. Julian didn’t appear to notice.

“What the hell is a baby nothing? Is this more of your made-up nonsense? Like that ridiculous notion about chocolate soda.”

“Chocolate soda made you sick, yes.”

“They were espresso martinis and were very popular in the 2000’s.” Julian snapped before shaking his head, “Just break it down. What is a “baby nothing”?”

“Something Mike say,” Robin shrugged, “He say Mia become big baby, so no more little baby. But new little baby coming. He say Captain have baby. Then Captain have nothing. Together, baby nothing. Your move.”

Julian didn’t move from his seat, the turbines in his brain starting to spin from a gentle breeze to a full-on gale. “He said The Captain’s having a baby?”

“I said what he said.” Robin was growing frustrated with this line of questioning. Either Julian needed to catch up and get it, or he needed to move his piece.

“Did he say for sure? I mean, I spread my fair share of pregnancy rumors in my time. Especially if they were between married opponents who weren’t married, if you catch my—“

Robin groaned loudly and slumped in his chair. “Mike say Captain have baby and leave like bum on fire. What else you need? Move damn piece!”

“Alright, alright. My God, man, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Julian scoffed, moving one of his pieces. However, his attention was still so fixated on Robin’s explanation that he didn’t even care when he was checked three moves later. At least, he didn’t care that much.

He was still chewing on the information the following morning, sitting outside with some coffee. Usually Julian preferred to prepare for his day in the confines of his flat, but he could see Mary and Annie working in their garden and he knew well enough that if he caught them on their way in and played nice, he would get first pick of week. And like hell he was letting Fanny get all the watercress they would let slip like she did last time, that crafty witch.

The possibility of The Captain’s circumstances made a surprising amount of sense for Julian. Of all of the residents of Button House, it would suffice to say that the two of them got along in only the rarest of circumstances. Though they still found themselves drawn into conversations. Maybe it came from leadership recognizing leadership. Still, he couldn’t imagine The Captain as a father. Hell, he barely saw himself as one, even with the degree of pride he had for his daughter. So who was he to comment? Not that he wouldn’t, obviously. The thought of “Modern Major General Stick Up The Arse” waddling about with a melon for a middle was hilarious to him. Julian was just chuckling to himself at the thought when he heard footsteps coming up the drive. Finally, his chance for some damn—

“Oh. Alison.” He greeted, settling back in his chair. The younger woman was pushing a prom along, the whole contraption stuffed with toys, shopping bags, and – obviously – a baby. Mia was sound asleep in the thing, not even reacting to the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels of her vehicle.

Alison brushed her bangs out of her eyes, a bit of sweat sticking them to her forehead from the exertion of pushing the stroller. “Morning, Julian. Getting some sun?”

“Something like that,” He agreed, gesturing down the mass of lawn with his mug before setting it aside. “Take it you’re doing the same?”

“Sure,” The remark was sarcastic, but Alison was grateful to at least have an excuse to catch her breath before continuing on her way. “Just some errands. Mia had some stuff to do.”

“Right. Had some bills to mail, did she?” Julian was often surprised to find the ease with which he could be so casual in conversations like this, interact with his neighbors and their children. Well, child. Well, children, in the future, he supposed— “Pay off a ticket, toddling without a license?”

“You’ve got it.” Alison smiled a little, shifting her gaze between Julian and Mia. “Your girl get into that kind of mischief?”

“Not really. Not that I remember anyway.” The pinch of Allison’s eyebrows, the brief slip in her smile didn’t exactly help the coffee swirling in Julian’s gut. He was aware that his presence as a father was far less than satisfactory, a truth that was largely known by the Button House community, but that didn’t mean he needed to be looked at with judgement or pity any time he mentioned his daughter. Not that he could blame her for the reaction. But could she, in turn, blame him for not wanting to dwell on such things when he was trying to improve— “Speaking of mischief, have you heard the good news?”

“No, what?”

“It seems our resident military man’s in the pudding club.”

Alison’s expression grew all the more pensive. “What?”

“You know, he’s harboring a fugitive.” Julian’s eyebrows raised pointedly, while his friend still stared at him like he was Robin. Christ, is that what he looked like during their conversation the night before? “You know! He’s “tiiiiiiiiiin roof, rusted”!” He offered a mediocre impression of the B-52’s lyric, miming a large stomach over his torso. Alison’s eyes blew wide with the gesture and Julian nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh! Robin filled me in last night. But don’t ask me anything else about it, my lips are sealed.”

However, as he spoke, the woman was hurrying up the drive. “Wait, don’t you want—” Before he could even finish enticing her, the front door was kicked shut. Clucking his tongue, Julian’s gaze returned to the garden. Those two farm woman wannabes had better have moved along. He didn’t have all day for this.

[spacexcowgirl]

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N enters a fwb relationship with Fred, only to realize she’s going to have a lot more trouble keeping things platonic than she thought.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Smut, Oral (male receiving), masturbation, light hair pulling, exhibitionism (sort of? I mean they do it in a public bathroom so yeah), unprotected sex, possessive talk, swearing, brief alcohol mention. pretty angsty throughout but it ends fluffy so.

A/N: I’m obsessed with the fwb trope and wanted to see if I could write a smut, so here we are. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, and let me know if I missed any warnings! Pictures are from Pinterest. (Also, I know this is a repost. Let’s see if the tags actually wanna work this time :) )

You watched as Fred’s grip on his glass tightened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes remained trained on the dance floor. You couldn’t allow yourself to follow his gaze, because you knew what you would see, and you knew it would break your heart. Angelina was there, and she was dancing closely to some guy that wasn’t Fred. Judging by his change in demeanor, he wasn’t as over their breakup as he had claimed.

You hated seeing him like this, for reasons beyond the fact that you were his best friend. It was selfish, sure, but part of the reason why you were so bothered was because you knew he would never be so jealous over you. And that stung.

It had been three months since him and Angelina had split. In those three months, Fred had vehemently claimed that he was fine, that their breakup was mutual, and that he hardly even thought about her anymore. Now, judging by the way he hadn’t uttered more than two words since she waltzed in, you and George could confirm what you already knew; he was lying. When it came to their emotions, its what the Weasley boys did best. Conceal as long as possible, before ultimately blowing up. Evidently, that blow up was about to come tonight.

“Maybe we should just go?” You placed a delicate hand on Fred’s shoulder. The action tore his gaze from Angelina for just a moment, then his eyes were back on her.

“No, no. I’m fine.” He lied through gritted teeth. “We came out tonight to have fun, so, let’s have fun.”

With that, he downed the rest of the drink in his glass and took your hand, guiding you out on the dance floor. You glanced back, just momentarily, and caught George’s worried gaze. Fred most certainly was not fine, but you could also tell that George’s worry extended to you. He knew you were one longing glance away from falling point-of-no-return in love with his brother, and that scared him. Almost as much as it scared you.

Once you and Fred had infiltrated the crowd of people, his hands were on your hips, but he couldn’t meet your eyes. So, to save yourself just a little bit of heartache, you turned in his grasp so your bum was pressed to his front. In this position, you didn’t have to face him blatantly staring at another girl. You closed your eyes and moved your hips to the music, letting yourself just for a moment get lost in the feeling of his big hands guiding your hips. For a little while, you could shut out reality and simply pretend it was just the two of you, and that he wasn’t desperately wishing you were someone else.

The feeling of his warm breath against your neck shook you back to the present, causing you to instinctively crane your neck to give him further access. His lips ghosted a line there, sending goosebumps alive in their path. They traced their way up to your ear, giving a gentle nip to your lobe before he spoke.

“It’s working, she keeps looking over here.” He whispered in a low voice. 

You simply hummed in response, continuing the grinding of your bum against his hips. Truthfully, you didn’t care whether she was looking or not, but of course you couldn’t say that. So, silence sufficed.

This is what your relationship had morphed into in the months since his breakup. What had started as a completely innocent, and drunken, conversation between friends about how it should be criminal how long you had gone without getting laid, had somehow turned into this murky friends with benefits relationship you were now in. Neither of you tried to hide the fact that you would occasionally sleep together from George or other peers, which was why your current grinding appeared normal to him, but you both always made it clear you were still just friends.

So, when Fred had a long day at work, there you were, your mouth showing him in more ways than one how to relax. When George and him got into a fight, although it was rare, you were there as a thing for him to ruin, to take all of his frustrations out on. Basically just about any mood he could possibly be in, you were there to make it even better.

That’s not to say you got nothing out of the arrangement, though. Fred was there for you, too. After those awful long days that seemed never ending, when you were too in your head over an upcoming work project, when you just needed to relax a little. Fred Weasley could make you cum so hard you’d forget anything wrong in your life, including the extremely unfortunate feelings you harbored for him. Even if it was just momentarily.

Not to mention, if having Fred in your bed was the closest you’d get to truly being with him, then you’d take it. Because as you lay pinned beneath him, your name leaving his lips like a prayer, you could feel like the only girl in his world. And that feeling breathed life into you like nothing else could.

So, now, here you were, pressed up against the man who held the power to break your heart if he so chose, but who also had no idea. It seemed Fred truly thought what you had was just fun between friends. Another reason you couldn’t fault him.

“Oh, fuck.” Fred groaned worriedly into your neck before straightening up. His words and the sudden space he had now put between the two of you caused you to furrow your brows, until he spoke again. “She’s coming over.”

Fred and you had already been somewhat on the outskirts of the dance floor, which meant Angelina and the man she had entered with had to pass you to get to the bar. Of course, they wouldn’t just walk by without saying anything. Angelina had always been a sweetheart, and Fred and her had ended somewhat amicably, so it was no wonder she was now approaching with a bright smile on her face.

“Freddie! Y/N/N!” She quickly enveloped you in a hug, causing her familiar floral perfume to fill your nose. Godric, could she get any more perfect?

“I feel like it’s been ages.” Next she was hugging Fred, and although he was stiff, Angelina was nothing but friendly and carried on as if she didn’t even notice. When she pulled back, she gestured to the man who she had approached with. “This is Stephen. He’s my uh…” She seemed to falter for a moment, her eyes flicking guiltily to Fred before she continued. “My boyfriend.”

You didn’t have to look up at Fred to know his jaw was clenched, now for more reasons than one. Thinking back to when Fred and her were still together, you had heard him complain on more than one occasion about a ‘Stephen’ that she worked with. Even though she had told him that he was no one to worry about, perhaps Fred had a right to be so jealous.

There was a tense moment of silence, all four of you internally gauging the situation and where to take things from there. Angelina was the first to clear her throat and gesture between both you and Fred.

“So, uh, I hadn’t heard that you two were together.” Her eyes fell to yours, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “You know, I always thought you guys would make a cute couple. I mean, even before…” Her words trailed off, careful not to breach the subject of her failed relationship with Fred. 

To save her from an awkward ramble, you decided to speak up. A sheepish look crossed your features as you prepared yourself for the ever-uncomfortable ‘actually, we’re not together, we’re just screwing’ talk.

“Well, we’re not really—”

“Not really sure why we hadn’t gotten together sooner.” Fred cut you off, his arm snaking around your waist although his eyes never left Angelina’s.

Your eyes grew wide at his words, your heart speeding up. Of course, you knew what he was doing. He was Fred Weasley for Godric’s sake, and he’d rather be dead than admit to his happily-moved on ex-girlfriend that he was still alone. Still, the thought of truly being with him crossed your mind, like it did more often than you’d like to admit, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy.” You could tell she meant it. With that, she let her hand drop and intertwine with Stephen’s before shooting the two of you one last smile and hauling him towards the bar.

Fred’s grip on your waist had grown even tighter and you found yourself wondering if he even realized it. His breath was ragged and shallow, and when you looked up at his face you found that his eyes were squeezed shut. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to discern if Fred needed his best friend or his fuck buddy right now. Ultimately, you decided he probably needed a little bit of both.

“Why don’t you stop torturing yourself and we finally get out of here?” You pleaded.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

And before you could ask what, exactly, that meant, he was firmly grasping your wrist and hauling you to the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a very big room, and half of you wondered if the lock on the door even properly worked, based solely on how old it looked. You didn’t have a lot of time to worry, though, before Fred’s lips were pressed against yours and he was pushing you against the porcelain sink.

You moaned into his mouth at the desperation in his actions, your hands quickly finding the base of his neck and tangling in the hairs there. In an instant, he had you hoisted onto the cool white fixture and was stood between your legs, peppering wet, open mouthed kisses down your jaw. You threw your head back, arching your chest towards him, and let out a moan as he began to suck at the soft skin below your ear.

He had quickly taken things into his own hands, as he often did, but you knew that wasn’t exactly what he needed right now. You pulled your head away, halting the kisses he had been planting to your neck, and placed your hands on his shoulders. His brows were furrowed as he looked at you, but as you gently pushed him back and hopped down from the sink, only to sink to your knees, he couldn’t help but grin in anticipation.

You fiddled with his belt buckle, undoing it as quickly as you could before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. You wasted no time teasing him, but rather pulled down his trousers and boxers in one go, suddenly eye level with his hard cock.

Your hand wrapped around his length, beginning to stroke him in the way that had grown so familiar to you. He tilted his head back and let out a groan at your slow pace, which only encouraged you further. The second that his eyes were back on you, you leaned in slightly and kitten licked the tip, maintaining the most innocent look you possibly could. Then, you opened your mouth and swallowed him down, keeping your hand on his base to work on the extra length you can’t fit. You felt Fred gather your hair into a ponytail, gently guiding your motions against him. He hardly had to do any work, you already knew how to please him so well.

“Fuck, yes,” Fred sighed, his eyes glued to the image of his cock disappearing between your lips. Knowing that he’s watching you, you gazed up at him through your lashes and hollowed out your cheeks, your hand twisting up and down as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Play with yourself, princess. Get yourself ready for me.”

While in any other situation you may have shot a quip at him about being a lazy git, right now you knew that realistically you two simply didn’t have very much time. What you were doing was risky, and it was Fred who needed to relieve some tension, so you’d have to be resigned to doing all of the work. Besides, sucking Fred off while he looked at you like that and moaned so beautifully turned you on to no end, so you supposed you really shouldn’t be complaining.

Your free hand snaked down and dipped beneath the waist band of your leggings, quickly pushing aside your panties and beginning to dip into your wet folds. You let out a moan against Fred’s cock, the vibration causing him to groan lowly.

This only lasted about a minute, before the reality set in that you just were not a very good multitasker. It was nearly impossible for you to keep up with sucking and wanking him off while simultaneously focusing on your own pleasure. So you resigned to pulling your lips off completely and catching your breath, allowing one hand to continue working on your own pleasure while the other twisted up and down his cock, pausing every few moments to swipe your thumb over the sensitive head.

Fred’s hips bucked involuntarily in your grip from the contact. Then he was grasping your wrist and halting your actions, hoisting you up to a standing position by your elbow. He pulled you into one final, passionate kiss, before he was spinning you around and bending you over the sink. He folded himself over your body, intent on whispering into your ear.

“I want you loud,” He grumbled against your neck, placing a rough kiss there. One of his hands was now wrapped around you and kneading at your breast through your top, while the other had rested on your hip. “I want everyone in this whole bloody pub to hear you screaming my name.”

You knew what he really meant was he wanted Angelina to hear you screaming his name, but his hands were now yanking your leggings and panties down to your ankles, so your brain could hardly focus on anything else. You let out a breathy, quiet, moan as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your wet folds. His response was instantaneous as he pulled away from you completely, eyes narrowed.

“What did I say, princess?” His stroked himself lazily, pointedly busying himself with everything but touching you. 

“Please, Fred.” You simply whined. You always were slightly embarrassed by how desperate you were for him.

“I said,” He ignored your pleas, taking a step closer to you once again. “I want you loud. Honestly, if you can’t listen, you can just go back to having that pretty mouth of yours suck my cock, and you can worry about getting yourself off later.”

You let out a whimper at that, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You wouldn’t put it past him to tease you like that, so you knew you had to play your cards right to avoid it. 

“Think you can listen? Think you can be good?”

“Yes,” You breathed out, your hands gripping the side of the sink tightly. “I’ll be good.” 

That was all the confirmation he needed before pushing into you. A strangled moan tore itself from your lips, and you couldn’t help but shiver from the look Fred was giving you in the mirror. Once his hips were flush against your bum, he threw his head back and groaned.

“So fucking tight.” Fred gritted. “Always so tight… For me… All for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Freddie.” You moaned out, your eyes flying shut as he began to set a steady pace. Seeing your eyes close caused him to tangled one of his hands in your hair and give it a gentle tug, pulling your head up and arching your back further. The new angle allowed for him to hit at a deeper spot inside of you, causing you both to moan out.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He urged, the sound of his ragged pants mixing with the sound of his hips snapping against your bum. “Say my name, princess.”

The question caught you entirely off guard. Obviously, Fred and you always talked to each other quite differently during sex than during your everyday friendship. Still, this was uncharted territory. Because no part of you did belong to him, no matter how much you longed for it to be so. You couldn’t think on the meaning behind it for too long, though, because as he landed another harsh thrust into you, your mind was cleared of everything but your own pleasure.

“You, Freddie.” You moaned loudly. “All yours.”

“That’s right.” Fred slid the hand that had been resting on your hip around to find your clit, rubbing small circles against it in time with his thrusts. The hand that had been tangled in your hair grabbed your arm and pressed your palm flat against the mirror. He slotted his fingers against your, folding himself further over you as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. “Come on, I need you to cum for me, princess. Need you to say my name.” 

His words sent you over the edge, his name leaving your mouth in nearly incoherent babbles. He continued to lightly rub your clit, rocking you through your orgasm with a few light kisses to your neck, before he snapped his hips into yours one last time, burying himself fully before halting. He had finished inside you, leaving you now both panting as you came down from your highs.

Fred placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before dropping the hand he had pinning you to the mirror and slowly pulled himself out. You whined at the empty feeling, causing him to lowly chuckle from behind you.

Now that your brain was slowly beginning to function properly again, you could think of nothing but the way he had so brazenly claimed you as his. Since when had that become a thing? Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the idea of being his, truly, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you decided to speak up.

“Freddie?” 

He looked up at you in the mirror, having just grabbed his wand and begun to perform a cleaning spell on you. His eyes were soft and kind, a stark contrast to the angry, jealous man you had seen earlier in the night, and it only endeared you further.

“Hm?”

“What you said…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling very stupid. But, you had come too far, and it felt too late to back now. “About, um, belonging, to you… uh…”

“Got a little carried away there, didn’t I?” He chuckled sheepishly, ducking his head down as he finished cleaning you up. You bent down slightly and tugged up your panties and leggings before turning to face him, finding him doing up his zipper. “Guess seeing Angie here with that prat made me feel a little possessive. Did it make you uncomfortable?” The genuine concern lacing his voice nearly made you weak.

“No.” You shook your head, a small smile on your face. The kind of smile you give someone when you’re at the very seams of falling apart, but you’re doing everything in your power to keep it together. Of course, as he had been so vocally claiming you, his motive had been her. You could feel the beginning of tears welling up in your eyes, but you knew you couldn’t let them fall in front of Fred, so you quickly turned back around and gripped the sides of the sink.

“Then what’s wrong?” Fred’s hand was now on your shoulder, urging you to turn towards him. But you knew, one look at him and you’d be done for.

Your mind was racing as you tried to think of your best way out of this situation, the way to walk away without pouring your heart out and ruining this friendship. But, then, you kept hearing him tell Angelina that you were a couple, or the way he claimed you moments before, play over and over again in your head. It was the soundtrack to your heartbreak, and you had no way to turn down the volume.

“I really just want to be alone, Fred.” Was all you could muster, your voice shaking and making you cringe.

“Obviously I did something wrong.” Fred drew his hand back, but he made no motion to leave. “So just tell me what I did and we can fix it sooner rather than later.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” You spun back around, so vehemently ready to deny anything being wrong and send him away. But then you were looking into those soft brown eyes and your heart was breaking just a little bit more and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall. “Oh, for fucks sake.” You scolded yourself lightly, beginning to wipe the tears that had fallen.

“Hey, hey,” Fred cooed with open arms, ready to pull you into a hug and help in any way he could. Even if he didn’t completely understand what was going on, he hated to see you hurting.

You held out a stiff arm to keep him away, your other hand still uselessly trying to stop your tears.

A banging at the door and a muffled voice shouting ‘Hurry up in there!’ was the first thing to pull Fred’s attention from you. He had shouted back a quick ‘just a second!’ which you had barely even registered before you were apparating away from the confined space and back to the peaceful emptiness of your flat. There, you could collapse on the floor and cry about just how foolish you’d been to think this was ever a good idea in the first place.

-

Fred had been shocked and mildly upset when he turned around and you were nowhere to be found, but then wrote it off as your way of escaping the bathroom without people having to know what you had been doing in there. When he exited the bathroom and found George, alone, a few minutes later, he was remarkably more confused. Had you really left the pub as a whole? Without saying so much as a goodbye?

Still, Fred resigned to give you your space. He had seen how upset you were, and how reluctant you’d been to wrap up in his arms—which was typically your favorite place to be when you were upset—and decided maybe you really just did need to be alone. If you wanted space, space is what Fred would give you. In reason, of course.

So, when a week had passed with no word from you, Fred was growing remarkably more distraught. The two of you had never willingly gone this long without speaking, and no matter how much Fred tried to reach out, he never got anything in return but silence. Your absence was weighing on him, and he couldn’t help but rack his brain helplessly trying to decipher what exactly he had done wrong.

“Still no reply,” Fred sighed as he thumbed through the last of the mail he and George had been delivered that morning.

“Hm? Oh, Y/N, right.” George had glanced up from his stack of paperwork briefly, before returning his focus on his work. Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother, suddenly very aware of his uninterested response. Fred was a nervous wreck worrying about your disappearances, yet George sat uncharacteristically calm and unbothered.

“You’ve heard from her, haven’t you?” The realization hit Fred all at once, suddenly making him feel sick.

“Well, I mean, yeah.” George set down his quill, finally giving his brother his full attention.

“And you didn’t think to say anything?” Fred nearly screamed, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“You didn’t ask.” George rolled his eyes. “She’s fine, by the way. Just doesn’t…”

“Just doesn’t want to talk to me, right?” Fred scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “For Merlin’s sake, I don’t even know what I did!”

“Isn’t my place to say.” George shrugged. “Although, what I can say, and what may or may not have any relation to Y/N, is you are the blindest, daftest, git I’ve ever met.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m really going to have to spell it out, aren’t I?” George sighed, beginning to rub his face with his hands. “Alright, if I must. Let’s play a little game, shall we? I ask a question, you give a simple yes or no answer. Nothing else. Got it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” George wiggled his finger, effectively cutting his brother off. “Alright, now, first question. Have you slept with anyone besides Y/N since you broke up with Angelina?”

“No.” Fred furrowed his brows. “But I don’t get—” This time, he abruptly cut himself off when George shot him a stern look.

“Next question. If you had to guess, has Y/N slept with anyone else since you two started your little… Arrangement?”

“No.”

“Okay, now. Think back to last week, were you actually jealous because Angelina was there with some guy, or was it because she was there specifically with the guy you had been insecure about, and it brought up all those old feelings?”

“I— That’s not a yes or no question!”

“Right, sorry.” George chuckled. “I’ll rephrase; Were you actually just upset and insecure about the specific guy Angelina was with?”

“Yes.” Fred’s voice was softer now.

“Final ones, really hoping this ties it all together for you.” George leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he gazed at his brother. “Little jump back to question two; If Y/N did sleep with someone else since you started would that make you jealous?”

The room was quiet as Fred clenched his jaw. He hated that George knew him and his emotions so well, because it was impossible to hide from them when he was around. After a moment, he stared down at his shoes and simply nodded.

“And, would you say, it would make you more jealous than when you thought you were jealous about Angie?”

Comparing the two jealousies felt pointless to Fred, what he felt last week at the pub wouldn’t even be in the same ballpark as what he would feel if he found out you had slept with someone else. You had always been his person, someone who had been there for him even when he was a stupid teenage boy. You were the only one he’d ever venture to say knew him almost as well as George. He had always written off the tinges of jealousy he felt when other guys flirted with you as the general protectiveness of a best friend, but was what George was insinuating the real explanation? Did he actually just have feelings for you?

“Yeah, it would make me more jealous.” Fred sighed frustratedly. “So what, okay? So maybe I’ve started to have feelings for her. You helping me realize that doesn’t exactly help with the fact that she won’t talk to me.”

“Why don’t you stop by her flat and tell her exactly what you just realized, and tell me if it doesn’t help?” With that, George gathered the last of his paperwork and headed up the stairs to their flat without another word.

-

After a week of working every morning and crashing on your couch every night, watching every sad movie you could find, it was safe to say you were out of tears. Truthfully, now you were just exhausted. It still hurt, but you didn’t have the energy to think about it constantly anymore. For that, you were surprisingly thankful.

So when you heard a knock on your door that Saturday night, you weren’t sure what you had been expecting. You vaguely knew in the back of your mind that it could be Hermione checking in and dropping off food, as she had a few times throughout the week, or maybe George coming in hopes of cheering you up. What you hadn’t expected, though, was the frantic face of Fred, yet that’s exactly what you found.

“I’m sorry to just show up like this, I know it’s kind of late, but you left me no choice.” He pleaded softly. The worried look on his face and the bags under his eyes caused a pool of guilt to form in your stomach, so before you could really think about it, you opened the door further and gestured for him to come in.

You both made your way into your living room, each finding a place on opposite ends of your couch. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Fred nervously ran his hands up and down his thighs, while you wrung your hands repeatedly. Neither of you could seem to look at each other.

“Look I’m—”

“George said—”

Both of you had gone to speak at the same time, causing you to both cut off abruptly. Your eyes found each other for the first time and within seconds a smile was lighting up each of your faces, light laughter bursting from your lips.

“You go ahead.” You offered, the small smile still on your lips despite the pain in your heart. Fred seemed to draw in a deep breath, seeming uncharacteristically nervous. Your stomach flipped at the potential list of things that could come out of his mouth.

“I think I’m starting to fall for you.”

Well, that certainly hadn’t been on your list.

“You… You what?” You questioned, desperate for clarification. Desperate to have him repeat it.

“I said, I think I’m starting to fall for you.” He repeated, the look in his eyes so genuine you nearly trembled. “And I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and I still don’t know why, but this is my way of saying I can’t lose you. Even if you don’t feel the same way—”

“What about Angelina?” Your voice was soft, unbelieving that this could ever be your reality.

“What about her?” Fred cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, how upset you got the week before all made sense to him, and he realized George was right. He was a daft git. “Y/N…” He trailed off, his heart suddenly hurting from the pain he’d caused you. “I’ve been such an arse, haven’t I? I used you to make her jealous, and what I said… Oh, fuck.”

You stared down at your hands in your lap. You hated reliving that night again, but some part of you was happy that at least now he had caught on.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He leaned forward and gently rested his hand on your cheek, coaxing you to look at him. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t care about her like that anymore, I mean it, okay? It just sucked seeing her there with the one guy I had always worried about.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He nodded. “Godric, I’ve probably been falling for you my whole life and just been too blind to see it.” His thumb lightly traced your cheekbone, causing your eyes to flutter close. “And even if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. Because I’m still sorry, and I’ll still do any—”

His words were cut off by you nearly throwing yourself towards him, your lips hurriedly find his. Although he seemed shocked at first, he quickly melted into the familiar feeling of your lips on his, and his hand moved down to cup your jaw. Butterflies were fully alive in your stomach, and for the first time you didn’t have the urge to squash them. This felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. After a moment, he pulled back and searched your eyes.

“Was that your way of telling me you feel the same way?” He grinned. “Because, for us, kissing your friend is normal. So I don’t know what that means—”

“Yes, you big idiot.” You teased, although you held nothing but love in your eyes. “I feel the same way.”

Now, he really was unsure why you hadn’t gotten together sooner.

[liquidstar]

I feel as if many people, myself included, have been having problems with the way “critical thinking” is conducted in fandom circles more and more. Which I’d say is a good thing, because it means we’re thinking critically. But still the issues with the faux-critical mentality and with the way we consume media through that fandom group mentality are incredibly widespread at this point, despite being very flawed, and there are still plenty of people who follow it blindly, ironically.

I sort of felt like I had to examine my personal feelings on it and I ended up writing a whole novel, which I’ll put under the cut, and I do welcome other people’s voices in the matter, because while I’m being as nuanced as I can here I obviously am still writing from personal experience and may overlook some things from my limited perspective. But by and large I think I’ve dissected the phenomena as best I can from what I’ve been seeing going on in fandom circles from a safe but observable distance.

Right off the bat I want to say, I think it's incredibly good and necessary to be critical of media and understand when you should stop consuming it, but that line can be a bit circumstantial sometimes for different people. There are a lot of anime that I used to watch as a teenager that I can’t enjoy anymore, because I got more and more uncomfortable overtime with the sexualization of young characters, partly because as I was getting older I was really starting to realize how big of an issue it was, and I certainly think more critically now than I did when I was 14. Of course I don’t assume everyone who still watches certain series is a pedophile, and I do think there are plenty of fans that understand this. However I still stay away from those circles and that’s a personal choice.

I don’t think a person is morally superior based on where they draw the line and their own boundaries with this type of stuff, what’s more important is your understanding of the problem and response to it. There are series I watch that have a lot of the same issues around sexualization of the young characters in the cast, but they’re relatively toned down and I can still enjoy the aspects of the series I actually like without it feeling as uncomfortable and extreme. Others will not be able to, and their issues with it are legitimate and ones that I still ultimately agree with, but they’re still free to dislike the series for it, after all our stance on the issue itself is the same so why would I resent them for it?

Different people are bound to have different lines they draw for how far certain things can go in media before they’re uncomfortable watching it and it doesn’t make it a moral failing of the person who can put up with more if they’re still capable of understanding why it’s bad to begin with and able to not let it effect them. But I don’t think that sentiment necessarily contradicts the idea that some things really are too far gone for this to apply, the above examples aren’t the same thing as a series centered solely around lolicon ecchi and it doesn’t take a lot of deep analysis to understand why. It’s not about a personal line anymore when it comes to things that are outright propaganda or predatory with harmful ideals woven into the message of the story itself. Critical thinking means knowing the difference between these, and no one can hold your hand through it. And simply slapping “I’m critical of my interests” on your bio isn’t a get out of jail free card, it’s always evident when someone isn’t truly thinking about the impact of the media they consume through the way they consume it.

I think the issue is that when people apply “Critical thinking” they don’t actually analyze the story and its intent, messages, themes, morals, and all that. Instead they approach it completely diegetically, it’s basically the thermian argument, the issue stems from thinking about the story and characters as if they’re real people and judging their actions through that perspective, rather than something from a writer trying to deliver a narrative by using the story and characters as tools. Like how people get upset about characters behaving “problematically” without realizing that it’s an intentional aspect of the story, that the character needs to cause problems for there to be conflict. What they should be looking at instead is what their behavior represents in the real world.

You do not need to apply real-world morals to fictional characters, you need to apply them to the narrative. The story exists in the real world, the characters and events within it do not. Fictional murderers themselves do not hurt anyone, no one is actually dying at their hands, but their actions hold weight in the narrative which itself can harm real people. If the character only murders gay people then it reflects on whatever the themes and messages of the story are, and it’s a major issue if it's framed as if they’re morally justified, or as if this is a noble action. And it’s a huge red flag if people stan this character, even if the story itself actually presents their actions as reprehensible. Or cases where the murderers themselves are some kind of awful stereotype, like Buffalo Bill who presents a violent and dangerous stereotype of trans women, making the character a transmisogynistic caricature (Intentional or otherwise) that has caused a lot of harm to the perception of trans women. When people say “Fiction affects reality” this is what they mean. They do not mean “People will see a pretend bad guy and become bad” they mean “Ideals represented in fiction will be pulled from the real world and reflected back onto it.”

However, stories shouldn’t have to spoon-feed you the lesson as if you’re watching a children’s cartoon, stories often have nuances and you have to actively analyze the themes of it all to understand it’s core messages. Oftentimes it can be intentionally murky and hard to parse especially if the subject matter itself is complicated. But you can’t simply read things on the surface and think you understand everything about them, without understanding the symbolism or subtext you can leave a series like Revolutionary Girl Utena thinking the titular Utena is heterosexual and was only ever in love with her prince. Things won’t always be face-value or clear-cut and you will be forced to come to your own conclusions sometimes too.

That’s why the whole fandom-based groupthink mentality about “critical thinking” doesn’t work, because it’s not critical. It’s simply looking into the crowd, seeing people say a show is problematic, and then dropping it without truly understanding why. It’s performative, consuming the best media isn’t activism and it doesn’t make you a better person. Listening to the voices of people whom the issues directly concerns will help you form an opinion, and to understand the issues from a more knowledgeable perspective beyond your own. All that means nothing if you just sweep it under the rug because you want to look infallible in your morality. That’s not being critical, it’s just being scared to analyze yourself, as well as what you engage with. You just don’t want to think about those things and you’re afraid of being less than perfect so you pretend it never happened.

And though I’m making this post, it’s not mine or anyone else’s job to hold your hand through all this and tell you “Oh this show is okay, but this show isn't, and this book is bad etc etc etc”. Because you actually have to think for yourself, you know, critically. Examples I’ve listed aren’t rules of thumb, they’re just examples and things will vary depending on the story and circumstance. You have to look at shit on a case-by-case basis instead of relying on spotting tropes without thinking about how they’re implemented and what they mean. That’s why it’s analysis, you have to use it to understand what the narrative is communicating to its audience, explicitly or implicitly, intentionally or incidentally, and understand how this reflects the real world and what kind of impact it can have on it. 

A big problem with fandom is it has made interests synonymous with personality traits, as if every series we consume is a core part of our being, and everything we see in it reflects our viewpoints as well. So when people are told that a show they watched is problematic, they react very extremely, because they see it as basically the same thing as saying they themselves are problematic (It’s not). Everyone sees themselves as good people, they don’t want to be bad people, so this scares them and they either start hiding any evidence that they ever liked it, or they double down and start defending it despite all its flaws, often providing those aforementioned thermian arguments (“She dresses that way because of her powers!”).

That’s how you get people who call children’s cartoons “irredeemable media” and people who plaster “fiction=/= reality!” all over their blogs, both are basically trying to save face either by denying that they could ever consume anything problematic or denying that the problematic aspects exist all together. And absolutely no one is actually addressing the core issues anymore, save for those affected by them who pointed them out to begin with, only for their original point to become muffled in the discourse. No one is thinking critically because they’re more concerned with us-vs-them group mentality, both sides try to out-perform the other while the actual issue gets ignored or is used as nothing more than a gacha with no true understanding or sympathy behind it.

One of the other issues that comes from this is the fact that pretty much everyone thinks they’re the only person capable of being critical of their interests. That’s how you get those interactions where one person goes “OK [Media] fan” and another person replies “Bro you literally like [Other Media]”, because both parties think they’re the only ones capable of consuming a problematic piece of media and not becoming problematic themselves, anyone else who enjoys it is clearly incapable of being as big brained as them. It’s understandable because we know ourselves and trust ourselves more than strangers, and I’m not saying there can’t be certain fandoms who’s fans you don’t wanna interact with, but when we presume that we know better than everyone else we stop listening to other people all together. It’s good to trust your own judgement, it’s bad to assume no one else has the capacity to think for themselves either though.

The insistence that all media that you personally like is without moral failing and completely pure comes with the belief that all media that you personally dislike has to be morally bad in some way. As if you can’t just dislike a series because you find it annoying or it just doesn’t appeal to you, it has to be problematic, and you have to justify your dislike of it through that perspective. You have to believe that your view on whatever media it is is the objectively correct one, so you’ll likely pick apart all it’s flaws to prove you’re on the right side, but there’s no analysis of context or intent. Keep in mind this doesn’t necessarily mean those critiques are unfounded or invalid, but in cases like this they’re often skewed in one direction based on personal opinion. It’s just as flawed as ignoring all the faults in the stuff you like, it’s biased and subjective analysis that misses a lot of context in both cases, it’s not a good mindset to have about consuming media. It’s just another result of tying media consumption with identity and personal morals. The faux-critical mentality is an attempt to separate the two in a way that implies they’re a packaged deal to begin with, making it sort of impossible to truly do so in any meaningful way.

As far as I know this whole phenomena started with “Steven Universe Critical” in, like, 2016, and that’s where this mentality around “critical thinking” originated. It started out with just a few people correctly pointing out very legitimate issues with the series, but over time it grew into just a trend where people would make cutesy kin blogs with urls like critical-[character] or [character]crit to go with the fad as it divulged into Nostalgia Critic level critique. Of course there was backlash to this and criticism of the criticism, but no actual conversation to be had. Just people trying to out-do each other by acting as the most virtuous one in the room, and soon enough the fad became a huge echo-chamber that encouraged more and more outrageous takes for every little thing. The series itself was a children’s cartoon so it stands to reason that a lot of the fans were young teens, so this behavior isn’t too surprising and I do believe a lot of them did think they were doing the right thing, especially since it was encouraged. But that doesn’t erase the fact that there were actual real issues and concerns brought up about the series that got treated with very little sympathy and were instead drowning out people’s voices. Though those from a few years back may have grown up since and know better (Hopefully), the mentality stuck around and influenced the norm for how fandoms and fandom people conduct any sort of critique on media. 

That’s a shame to me, because the pedestal people place fandom onto has completely disrupted our perception on how to engage with media in a normal way. Not everything should be consumed with fandom in mind, not everything is a coffee-shop au with no conflict, not everything is a children’s cartoon with the morals spoon-fed to you. Fandom has grown past the years of uncritical praise of a series, it’s much more mainstream now with a lot more voices in it beyond your small community on some forum, and people are allowed to use those voices. Just because it may not be as pleasant for you now because you don’t get to just turn your brain off and ignore all the flaws doesn’t mean you can put on your rose-tinted nostalgia goggles and pretend that fandom is actually all that is good in the world, to the point where you place it above the comfort and safety of others (Oftentimes children). Being uncritical of fandom itself is just as bad as being uncritical of what you consume to begin with. 

At the end of the day it all just boils down to the ability to truly think for yourself but with sympathy and compassion for other people in mind, while also understanding that not everyone will come to the same conclusion as you and people are allowed to resent your interests. That doesn’t necessarily mean they hate you personally, you should be acknowledging the same issues after all. You can’t ignore aspects of it that aren’t convenient to your conclusion, you have to actually be critical and understand the issues to be able to form it. 

I think that all we need is to not rely on fandom to tell us what to do, but still listen to the voices of others, take them into account to form our opinion too, boost their voices instead of drowning them out in the minutiae of internet discourse about which character is too much of an asshole to like. Think about what the characters and story represent non-diegetically instead of treating them like real people and events, rather a story with an intent and message to share through its story and characters, and whatever those reflect from the real world. That’s how fiction affects reality, because it exists in reality and reflects reality through its own lens. The story itself is real, with a real impact on you and many others, so think about the impact and why it all matters. Just… Think. Listen to others but think for yourself, that’s all.

[ghostietea]

Furuba autistic headcanons

With it being April, or autism acceptance month, I wanted to finally drop my list of characters from Fruits Basket that I read as autistic! This is based a lot on my own experience, as well as that of other autistics I know or have seen talk online. I hope some people can get something out of it, feel free to tell me what you think 😊, though please refrain from getting upset that I would dare suggest your fave is autistic.

Hanajima

Before becoming able to better control her powers, she would be constantly overwhelmed by the things she heard to the point that she couldn't even really go out in public. This reads a lot like sensory overload.

Constantly picked on in school because other kids thought she was weird. Eventually reclaimed this weirdness and turned it into a whole persona.

Seems to talk usually in a relatively flat tone.

Had trouble socializing with no friends outside her family until middleschool.

Has a very funny, dry sense of humor that I find very similar to a bunch of autistics I know, including myself.

Hatsuharu

Listen. You have seen the funky little man, you have seen the way he talks, the way he acts around others. He is, and I mean this in the best way, a weirdo. I do not know how you could look at him and see a neurotypical.

Once again, like Hana, Haru is funny in a way that feels very autistic.

Very flat, dry, tone delivery. Sometimes just Says Things that make everyone else go huh??? Suuuuper blunt. Doesn't emote facially a lot of the time.

When this man sees a social norm he doesn't get he WILL NOT follow it. Pierces his ears just because his hair got flak, defends Momiji wearing whatever he wants because sometimes y'know the social rules are just dumb and don't make sense. Especially dress codes.

Sometimes says things not befitting the current tone of the situation.

Represses (masks) a lot of his emotions, leading to outbursts that seem uncharacteristic.

His main childhood trauma revolves around adults branding him as "dumb" and ridiculing him. Haru, however, is super smart and wise!! Just in an offbeat way that not everyone may get.

Machi

Reads as very "flat" emotionally to the point that others would call her boring. Also has a flat vocal delivery.

Relies on specific habits or ways of doing things or else she gets super upset (her hatred of imperfection.

Has trauma surrounding adults completely misconstruing her intentions and thinking she's doing something malicious when she's not.

Generally behaves in a way that's hard for others to understand, one of her formative moments with Yuki was him saying he wanted to "see how the world looks" through her eyes.

Once again, trouble socializing.

Tries super hard to please her parents but in the end they still see her as somehow inherently "defective."

Listen. A lot of this one and the last two are mostly vibes, hard to verbally define. You just have to look at them and trust me.

Tohru

Displays behavior very reminiscent of masking throughout the story, a huge part of her arc is about how she hides a lot of herself and has a very controlled persona. I think it would fit very well if she had other autistic behaviors that she suppresed also it helps explain why she is relatively socially adept, it's learned behavior to make people like her more.

Yes she is very good at saying what others need to hear, but especially early on she is pretty blatantly imitating her mother's words. She only gets better at getting through on a more personal level later on (see her with Rin and Akito v. early series Tohru). She does this by relating her own experiences, a very autistic way of showing empathy that often gets us written off as self centered. The way she relays things her mom said could also be seen as this, and she even worries at a few points that she's being insensitive for going on about things like that.

While emotionally repressed she is hyper empathetic and feels other's emotions so strongly she cries.

Her speech patterns are all imitated from her father and she often copies verbal things from others (see Ritchan-san). Noted in canon that people think her way of speaking is slightly off/not befitting of someone her age. Additionally, her father was polite more sarcastically, while she plays it straight and sometimes takes things very literally or fails to get the message, indicating trouble with reading tone. Has numerous strange verbal tics, including saying parts of her internal monologue out loud without context.

Very expressive with her hands including waving them around and flapping them up and down.

Does have a bit of trouble with accidental insensitivity in social interactions, like how she constantly fixates on her mom and realizes that might bug the Sohma.

Has trouble paying attention in school since it doesn't have much to do with her interests

Her only friend until she was a middle schooler was her mom

Has a pretty unique outlook on things compared to others, people seem to think she's pretty eccentric. There's always a "this girl is nice but in an odd way, she's our weirdo and we love her" vibe.

Sometimes has an "inappropriate" emotional response to situations

Has a lot of trouble with change, similar to Akito. Which oh, look at the time, next hc coming up.

But first, a disclaimer. It is cathartic for me to read Akito this way, but with that reading comes the baggage that she would, mayhaps, be showing a more negative side of things... It doesn't bother me since it's a joint hc with other characters and she does develop at the end but yeah, general villain hc baggage. This is in no way me trying to excuse her being The Worst being autistic doesn't absolve you of being able to do wrong . Also, a lot of these points can and do have other explanations related to her upbringing, but things can be for more than 1 reason. With that said, she really strongly comes off as autistic to me, in a way that's sorta hard to explain. I wrote a lot more for her than the other, both because I felt I needed more to convince people and that this headcanon was more sensitive and I needed to be careful in my explanation. Also hey! She's my special interest within a special interest.

Akito

Shown to have a dislike of summer weather due to heat and brightness, could be due to sensory issues in tandem with sickness things. Also covers her ears when people raise their voice sometimes which is partially her trying to shut down opposition but also 🤔 can read a different way. She'd also avoids louder Juuni like Ritsu and Ayame because she can't handle them.

Wears pretty much the same outfit every single day. Said outfit is also pretty loose fitting.

Always seen sitting in a pretty unconventional way. Evidence:

Of course this is also the isolated in a cult thing and there is a level of her purposefully doing things to intimidate but: doesn't follow a lot of social rules (overly touchy with strangers, legit doesn't get that what she's doing is wrong, ect.). Repeatedly confused when people indicate she should act otherwise without explanation. Has a breakdown when this comes to a head and approximately says that "they" shouldn't expect her to know "common sense" if "they" never explained it to her, that the way that she was was her "common sense."

Often talks in a way uncharacteristic of her age when shown as a child in a more faux mature/pretentious way. Might just be the translation and idk how to explain it but her speech as an adult also seems off from what one would normally use in conversation. Additionally, when she tries to fake being friendly in her intro chapter, it comes of as extremely stiff and unconvincing.

Generally displays behavior that could be thought of as childish as an adult, but a lot of this behavior could also read as autistic (covering ears, emotional deregulation and meltdowns, ignorance of basic social norms, ect.). It's also important to note that she knows that this behavior makes her seem younger and more helpless to the older zodiac and uses it as a manipulation tactic. Has issues regarding people treating her like a child or only hanging out with her because of pity. While she does weaponize it, we can tell that this grates on her, as seen with her finally blowing up on Kureno, which is partially triggered by the maids saying some sorta infantalizing stuff about her. Irl, a lot of autistic adults and teens struggle with being infantalized for our behavior generally or treated as little babies that can do no wrong. Even in fandom, you see people doing stuff like jumping to call autistic adult characters, such as Entrapta from Shera, "minor coded." It is also common for us to have at least one bad experience with someone hanging around us out of pity. This is something that really gave me a similar feeling in Akito's arc. She's not a baby and she can understand and do better if she is given the chance to learn and break from all the freaky cult indoctrination she's been subjected to instead of just being constantly enabled. In the end, a lot of her growth is represented by her showing that she is capable of changing and being independent.

Shows particular difficulty with socialization, often sits by herself spacing out at social events. A lot of her fear is rooted in the fact that she doesn't know how normal relationships work, becoming overly reliant on the curse because she doesn't know how to make friends.

Clings desperately onto the notion of being "special" and in some way superior to others to be worthy and to make up for perceived inherent "flaws." It's the nd gifted kid burnout vibes for me.

Easily bothered by things that don't bother others. Feels emotions very strongly to the point of getting physically ill and has bad emotional regulation.

Relatively good at reading others in an analytical sense (though has more trouble when it comes to seeing how they feel about her since she's wildly delusional) but brings up her observations in a very cold, detached way and hurts people even on the rare occasion she didn't mean to. Has extreme trouble connecting to others and understanding their point of view. This makes her come off as pretty unempathetic even though that might not fully be the case. Also thinks that people like Momiji are trying to look down on her when they try to empathize with her. A lot of why Tohru can get through to her is that she manages to convince Akito that she's not condescending by relating shared traits and experiences. As I said earlier, autistics often empathize by sharing their own experiences with someone, and I know I often have an easier time confiding in other autistics because of a fear of being seen as lesser by those that don't understand me. I think the connection between these charachters and the way that Tohru manages to reach Akito like that while others couldn't makes a lot of sense through an autistic lense!

Additionally, when Akito herself gets around to trying to help others instead of just projecting trauma, she tries to reach out to the old maid by relating back to her own experiences. This however, doesn't work.

Has "cold" emotional reactions sometimes even to things that do make her upset. For example, how sort of calm and detached she acted after her father's death can make her seem uncaring. However, we know that this event did mess her up a lot and she is still (poorly) dealing with a lot of grief from the death of her father years later.

Copies mannerisms from others, the most blatant example is with Ren, who she directly parrots lines from as a child to Yuki.

Partly just her posturing, but gestures a lot with her hands when she talks. Also seen several times clutching her hands in her hair.

Deals extremely poorly with the idea of things changing to the point that it is a driving force of the story.

Does not understand when people tease her.

Ect. Ect. Ect. Listen, I could go on for ages but just trust me, the mean gremlin lady is autistic.

[lunar-wandering]

i don’t wanna fight alone anymore - Chapter 6

The ship goes through a thunderstorm.

Wukong is fine.

(warning: Wukong is kinda like. panicking for most of this chapter, mainly this is based on what I do when anxious but. figured i should warn ya i guess.)

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on Ao3

"Hot chocolate is ready!" MK said, walking into the common room, carrying a tray with 4 mugs of hot chocolate on it. He handed one mug to Mei, then turned to hand another one to Macaque, only for Macaque to turn away, not even reaching for the mug. "....Aren't you going to take it?"

"No." Macaque said, plain and simple, slouching down and back into the couch.

"....Why not?" MK asked.

"I can't drink hot chocolate." Macaque sighed, dramatically sliding down off the couch and onto the floor. "Chocolate is poisonous to monkeys."

"But...." Mei started, turning to look at where Wukong was standing behind the couch. "I'm pretty sure we've all seen Monkey King-"

"I'm immortal, so it doesn't matter." Wukong said, "Give me my drink, if you'd please."

"Here." MK handed the mug of hot chocolate to Wukong, who sipped at it as MK turned back around to bring Macaque's unused mug back to the kitchen. As such, he didn't see the look of brief confusion that flashed over Wukong's face as he sipped the drink again, quickly followed by shock, then a tired resignation. All evidence of that, however, was gone by the time MK returned to the room.

"How do you live without chocolate?" MK asked, as he sat down on the couch, looking down at where Macaque now lay on the ground.

"I manage." He said, his eyes closed. Wukong snorted into his cup.

"That's why he's so bitter." Wukong said, "Can't eat chocolate."

Macaque didn't dignify that comment with a response, his ears twitching before he sat back up, looking like he was concentrating on something. He sighed, standing up and walking towards the door.

"And where are you going?" Mei asked.

"To my room." Macaque said, "There's a thunderstorm coming, and I'd rather not get my hearing destroyed any time soon."

With that, Macaque left the room, the door closing behind him.

"A thunderstorm?" MK asked, "I don't think I've been in a thunderstorm, outside of that time Red Son took over the weather station."

"I've been in a few, while traveling." Mei said, shrugging. "Other than being a bit loud, they're not a big deal, really. The weather station keeps storms from happening in the city, so like you said, I haven't been in one for a while."

"Ha, ha, yeah, wouldn't want the power to get knocked out in such a large city, right?" Wukong said, "I'm sure that would cause chaos."

There was a....strange wobble to his voice as he said it, which prompted MK and Mei to look at him with confusion on their faces.

"Are....you okay?" MK asked, eyeing how tightly Wukong was now gripping his mug. Wukong gave a little laugh.

"I'm just fine, kid." Wukong said, before chugging the rest of his hot chocolate in one go. "I think I'm gonna go check in on Pigsy now, see ya!"

And with that, Wukong turned, walking towards the kitchen. MK and Mei watched him go with equal looks of concern on their faces.

-

The first roll of thunder hit when Wukong was helping Pigsy take a batch of cinnamon buns out of the oven. It was so sudden, that even though he had been tense, expecting it, he very nearly dropped the whole tray.

"Careful, don't want to waste them." Pigsy said, noticing the fumble, before pausing as he registered the expression on Wukong's face. "....You okay?"

"Yep, just fine!" Wukong said, setting the tray down on the counter. "Just wasn't expecting it, that's all!"

"If you say so....." Pigsy said, staring at how Wukong stood, hands behind his back, tense. He could tell that something was up, but-

Before Pigsy could say anything else, another bout of thunder rolled through, and suddenly Wukong was moving, turning and heading towards the doorway.

"I'm going to go check on how Tang is doing!" He called, over his shoulder, before disappearing down the hallway.

-

Tang was sitting in his room, reading one of the many books he'd found in Wukong's house. (He'd stolen them, technically, since Wukong didn't know he'd taken them.)

He faintly heard a bout of thunder-

And then Wukong was there, leaning over his shoulder.

"Watcha reading?" He asked, and Tang barely kept himself from startling out of his chair. He chuckled a little at the other's reaction, before returning his attention to the book. "Wait, isn't this one from my house?"

"They're all from your house." Tang said, recovering from the sudden scare. "I figured I'd get some reading material while we were there."

"I mean, at least someone will read them." Wukong said, "I'm not even sure why I held onto them really, I never actually bothered to read them."

"You didn't- why would you just get books and then not read them?" Tang said, "I mean, this one specifically has such a good plot-"

Wukong sat there, crouched on the edge of Tang's chair, and listened to him rant about how good the book was. In truth, Wukong actually had read all the books. At least 50 times. But he wasn't about to tell him that.

Listening to the ranting was actually a good distraction.

Or at least, it was a good distraction.

Eventually, his mind started wandering again, and all it could keep thinking of was-

A clash of thunder rang out, and Wukong stood up, jumping off of the chair and pacing, trying to look casual as he did so. He didn't think he fully succeeded, if the way Tang paused in his speech and looked at him was any indication.

That wouldn't do. He wouldn't- couldn't let any of the others know-

Tang went to open his mouth, and Wukong was already walking out the door.

"I'm going to go hang out with Sandy!" He said as he left.

Tang watched him leave with a frown on his face.

"I was just gonna ask if he was okay...." He mumbled.

-

So maybe going to Sandy wasn't the best idea right now.

Or, well, at least, it wasn't the best idea considering Wukong actively wanted to hide the fact that anything was wrong. Sandy was the best in the group at picking up on the others emotional states, so Wukong should've known that as soon as he entered the room he'd be asked;

"Are you okay?"

"Yep! Perfectly fine!" Wukong lied, wincing as another clang of thunder boomed outside the ship. As much as some part of him wanted to, he couldn't tell him. He couldn't tell him that the loud sound of thunder sounded all too similar to the sound of rocks falling, crashing, and tumbling their way down a mountain.

Besides, it wasn't entirely a lie, he was fine.

He could deal with this.

So long as he had a distraction.

Which was why, even though Sandy eyed him with a fair amount of suspicion, Wukong stayed around him a little while longer, trying to make small talk about any subject he could think of that Sandy might be knowledgeable about. Cats, tea- literally anything that came to mind.

And it worked- between talking about random subjects, and pacing while rubbing his hands up and down his clothing ( a self comforting gesture, he was unsure when he'd starting doing it, but he sure wasn't going to stop now-), the overbearing panic from the thunder was almost dulled enough for him to forget about it.

....But this strategy wouldn't work forever.

-

They'd all gone to bed.

Everyone was asleep.

They were still in the thunderstorm.

And now, Wukong had no one to talk to.

A loud boom rattled the ship, and Wukong barely stopped himself from whimpering as he leaned against the wall of the hallway. On the one hand, at this point, he just wanted to curl up and cry. But on the other hand, staying still for too long just reminded him of being trapped, unable to move-

Another roll of thunder came through, and Wukong couldn't stop the whimper this time.

Fuck. He couldn't do this, he needed- he needed another distraction, someone else to talk to-

But the others were asleep. There was no way he could wake them up for this, not only would it disturb their sleep, but he'd been doing such a good job of pretending everything was fine, that he was still the strong and powerful Monkey King that defeated Demon Bull King five hundred years ago. He couldn't shatter that image for them. They deserved to believe that they were safe with him there.

He couldn't wake them up. If only someone, maybe Sandy, was still awake, maybe then-

....But there was someone awake.

A mental image of Macaque, sitting on his bed, covering his ears so that they wouldn't be hurt by the loud thunder, unable to sleep from the noise, appeared in Wukong's mind.

Almost immediately he dismissed the idea. He'd already spent at least an hour locked up in a magic barrier with the shadow monkey, outside of general interaction around the others, he wasn't going to actively seek out the other's company for anything else. He still didn't trust him. There was no way he was going to let Macaque know about this.

Another loud crack of thunder quickly made him change his mind.

In only a matter of seconds he stood outside of Macaque's door, debating whether or not he should knock. The choice was made for him as the door swung open, Macaque standing there, looking tired and absolutely done with everything.

"Don't even start." He said, stopping Wukong before he could even open his mouth. "I could hear you panicking from miles away."

"I'm not panicking!" Wukong said, despite the fact that he clearly was, and Macaque sighed-

Before pausing, grabbing hold of his scarf and pulling it up to cover his ears, and that was the only warning Wukong got before-

Another clap of thunder hit, this one closer to the ship than the previous ones, based on how loud it was, and both monkey's cringed. A moment passed, then Macaque slowly let the scarf fall down from his ears, lightly rubbing them in an attempt to stop the ringing.

Wukong continued shaking.

Macaque took one look at him and sighed, before grabbing hold of Wukong's wrist, and dragging him down the hallway.

"Hey- what're you-" Wukong started to protest, trying to pull his wrist out of the other's grip, but Macaque held firm.

"I'm not dealing with this tonight." Macaque grumbled, and Wukong's protests continued, only the fear of possibly waking someone up keeping him from shouting at the other.

At least, until they started approaching MK's room.

Wukong dug his heels into the floor, actually managing to bring Macaque to a complete stop.

"We are not waking up MK." Wukong hissed, trying to level Macaque with a threatening glare, although it was very much ineffective, as another bang of thunder made him start shivering again. Macaque, who had used one hand to pull up his scarf and protect his ears from the noise, rolled his eyes.

"Unfortunately for you, I am not going to tolerate your bullshit." He said, ignoring Wukong's offended gasp. "It's late, my ears are ringing, and right now I honestly couldn't care less about your thunder phobia or whatever. You're going to talk about whatever the hell this is with MK and the others, and I'm going to go back to pressing two pillows over my ears so I don't get hearing damage, okay?"

"No-" Wukong said, but it was too late, as Macaque banged his fist on MK's door. There was a startled yelp, and a crash, and Wukong winced, knowing that his successor had probably just fallen out of his bed. A few seconds passed, and then MK slowly opened the door, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"Macaque? What's going-" MK started, before noticing Wukong, who was very obviously trying to escape Macaque's grip. "...Monkey King?"

"Uh, hey bud!" Wukong said, smiling nervously even as Macaque sent him a warning glance. "Nothing's wrong, you can go back to bed-"

He was cut off by another boom of thunder, cringing and slightly curling in on himself. Macaque had let go of his hand, in order to better cover his own ears, but somehow the thought of running away was suddenly the furthest thing away in Wukong's mind. MK continued to glance between the both of them with confusion and concern.

"...Are you alright?" MK eventually settled on asking and Wukong-

Wukong finally gave in.

".....No." He said, quietly, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Macaque fade into the shadows, probably heading back to his room, but he wasn't really focusing on that right now. "I'm....not okay."

"It's the thunder isn't it." MK said, it wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Wukong nodded silently, still refusing to look MK in the eye. "Do you want to talk about it or-"

"I just need a distraction." Wukong said, "Just, I don't want to think about-"

Another clash of thunder, and MK winced sympathetically as Wukong decided to take a page out of Macaque's book and cover his ears with his scarf. Surprisingly enough, the fabric over his ears did actually help a little, it was almost a bit comforting, really.

MK waited until Wukong had mostly pulled himself back together before speaking again.

"We could play Monkey Mech?" He suggested, "I've got a TV and console in my room-"

Wukong practically rushed past him, entering the room and immediately finding the console and turning it on.

-

MK sighed, setting his controller down on his lap as he glanced at the clock.

4 am in the morning.

(Usually, MK would be a bit concerned over how little sleep he was getting, but-

To be honest, he hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights anyways. What was one more sleepless night?)

"Y'know, arguably, you probably should've gone to Sandy for this." MK said.

"Probably, yeah." Wukong mumbled, before looking over at MK. ".....Can you promise me you won't tell the others about this?"

"...Sure." MK knew that the others had also figured it out already, but if Wukong wanted to pretend that no one knew, well, MK certainly wasn't going to be the one to start digging into that.

That was probably a job that would be best left to Sandy in the long-term.

[autisticsupervillain]

Judicious Reaper AU

Hiveswap/Death Note Crossover

Tyzias Entykk is going heading home for the night when she stumbles across a strange black book on the ground. She picks it up and reads the five rules, written in plain Alternian.

The troll whose name is written in this note shall die.

This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

She shrugs it off and stuffs the "Death Note" into her bag, figuring it's just some weeb thing that Tegiri dropped and she could return it to him tomorrow.

Later that night, she finds herself mulling over the Death Note with the TV on in the background, wondering what it could be from. Tegiri's never been shy about his interests, so it does strike her as odd that she's never heard him mention it. It's not like it could be new either, as Tegiri would've bragged about his new notebook the first chance he got. Just as Tyzias resolves to look it up, Trizza appears on the TV screen.

Trizza subjects her audience to another one of her narcissistic tyraids about how much better she is than everyone else and how she's definitely the rightful Empress. Tyzias, already tired from a long night of work and throughly fed up with Alternia's bullshit for that night, decides to write Trizza's name in the Death Note. Just as Tyzias dryly remarks to herself that "i wwwwish it wwwwas that easy", Trizza drops dead on stage. Tyzias drops her mug in shock.

Alternia is sent reeling on the inexplicable death of its Heiress and Tyzias is left staring mortified at the Death Note in her hands. She quickly throws the book in the trash and resolves to try and get to bed early that day, knowing she'll have a long night of work tomorrow. She doesn't get much sleep that night.

Predictably, Alternia has descended into absolute chaos by the time Tyzias wakes up. Trizza's death has inspired the rebellion to be more overt and violent, actively organizing raids and invasions while highblooded rebels like Fiamat try and seize control of the power vacuum. This leaves Tyzias swimming in so much paperwork that she barely has time to even think about the Death Note in between tending to the emotional needs of a shocked and confused Stelsa and trying to get her work done on time.

In the coming weeks, the Purples and Violets loyal to the Empire begrudgingly unite to try and get a handle on things. Chahut is elected as a stand-in heiress, as she's the only one persuasive enough to convince the castes to work together for the time being. Marvus, however, has a different reaction.

He knows for a fact that Trizza didn't just die. The Messiahs gave him the script, told him how everything was supposed to play out, and Trizza was much to important to drop dead. She was assassinated, she had to be. It was the only rational explanation, even if he didn't understand how just yet. His only choice was to find this assassin and play damage control to try and correct this timeline. Part of him knew that was impossible, that they'd gone so wildly off script that their timeline was doomed now, but that's what made the challenge so appealing.

It's only when her work load had died down several weeks later that Tyzias thinks to pull the Death Note out of the garbage. That's when she found Ryuk standing over her. After she panics and tosses her mug through his head, Ryuk laughs and intoduces himself.

He explains to her what he and the Death Note are and why he dropped it on Alternia. Sure, Ryuk is typically supposed to be one of Earth's shinigami, he's had a lot of trouble finding good entertainment sense "that Light kid died" and figured a more bloodthirsty species could provide it.

"You, however, seem to be an exception to that rule. Most trolls in your place would be thrilled to have this much power. But you seem almost afraid of it. Afraid of what you could do with that power and afraid of what that power could do with you. I can't say any if its human owners had that same wisdom."

Tyzias admits that she doesn't really know what to do with it. She'd always wanted to stage a nonviolent revolution, to reform the system from inside while killing as few people as possible. But, that was before she had the Death Note. With which she could control the Rebellion's body count, only burn down what she needed to so she could come and rebuild it into something better.

Tyzias decides to take her mind off the dilemma by chasing down a case that interests her. Lowbloods had been going missing in her area lately and she wanted to investigate. It would've been easy to just chalk this up to violence in response to Trizza's death, but there were no bodies. No signs of struggle even, suggesting that either the lowblood community had either taken the opportunity to evacuate en mass or they'd been abducted during all the confusion.

She finds her breadcrumb trail and follows it back to one Zebruh Codakk, who'd taken the opportunity to lure lowbloods to his hive with the offer of safely sitting out the violent rebellion. True to form, he immediately enslaved those who accepted his invite.

Unfortunately, this is where Tyzias' case would hit a brick wall. Highbloods enslaving Lowbloods wasn't illegal and it would take months for her to forge enough evidence to convict Zebruh of an actual crime. But.... Tyzias has the Death Note. With the flick of a pen, she could remove Zebruh from the picture and free all his slaves.

So, one night, Zebruh mysteriously dies of a heart attack while a strange troll in a cloak frees his slaves. She introduces herself as a "judicious reaper" and advises them to take as much of Zebruh's stuff as they can and run. Their hives aren't safe anymore, the authorities would likely pin Zebruh's death on them.

Marvus, meanwhile, has been blindly searching for leads on Tizza's killer and hears about Zebruh's death. Through this, he puts together that the assassin is a genuine revolutionary and not just someone grasping for power, given both their targets were cruel towards Lowbloods and killing Zebruh wouldn't likely solidy any kind of power base for them given how unpopular he was. After he tracks down one of the escaped slaves, he learns about the "judicious reaper" who saved them and deduces that the assassin might actually live nearby. After all, they didn't show up at the scene of Trizza's death, but they did show up here. Or, at least, sent one of their operatives here to free the slaves.

He decides to test this theory. He orders a squad of bluebloods to seize control of the town, cutting of the wifi and intercepting all incoming signals, before rounding up a random selection of five trolls from each caste. The plan is to publicly execute them in the town square under the excuse of "quelling rebellion". If the killer does indeed live in that town and they're as altruistic as Marvus suspects, they'll likely kill these executioners to prevent any deaths, inadvertently outing that they live in that small town.

The killer clearly has supernatural means available, as Trizza and Zebruh seemed to die of natural causes, which means that supernatural system likely has rules and limitations to it. This gives Marvus the hunch that the killer might need names and faces to kill people. As such, only some of the executioners will publicly announce their names or take off their masks.

Tyzias is unaware of the ploy and of the full extent of Marvus' knowledge, as she has no reason to believe that anyone suspects that there even was a killer. As such, she's trying to figure a way out of this situation that won't give anyone looking for patterns a reason to think that there might be a killer. Unfortunately, Stelsa is one of the trolls selected to be executed, so her hand is forced.

Luckily, Stelsa's executioner gave both his name and his face, so Stelsa was saved, but Tyzias couldn't save all of them and a good chunk of trolls were still executed. She suspects now that this was a set up, given how weird and candid it was that some of the executioners gave their names and faces but others didn't, but her attention is currently on comforting Stelsa.

Marvus is ecstatic at having his theory proven correct and decides to investigate. Not personally, but by proxy. He's a celebrity, so he can't exactly go asking around himself, nor could any of his associates without raising suspicion. So, he decides to outsource to the last kind of troll that the killer would suspect. Boldir.

Boldir has been a pretty open pain in Marvus's neck for awhile now. He knows she's constantly poking around where she shouldn't be and he knows she's good enough at it to not leave any kind of tangible, solid proof. He'd only been tolerating her because the script said he needed her alive, but now she can play into his hands a little more directly. Marvus tracks her down and meets her in person at her hive, both because she'd figure out he's involved if he tried to deal with her indirectly anyways and because it makes the statement of "I know who you are and where you and your loved ones live". Boldir initially refuses to cooperate, but her interest is peaked when he offers her a favor. Marvus knows about Fozzer and he knows about how his personality has changed. Marvus offers to use his chucklevoodoos to get to the bottom of Fozzer's strange behavior if Boldir investigates this "judicious reaper" for him.

Meanwhile, Tyzias is comforting Stelsa. She's hesitant to open up to Tyzias, as they're matesprites and not moirails, but ultimately, she has no one else to turn to. Stelsa nearly breaks down going over how, not only is Trizza dead, not only does the Empire seem to be collapsing all around her, but the very Empire she trusted just tried to kill her for seemingly no reason. She's scared. Exhausted. Confused. And she just doesn't know what to do.

Tyzias considers revealing that she killed Trizza, all she'd have to do is hand her the Death Note, but she doesn't. Tyzias and Stelsa have always just politely ignored each other's political leanings. Tyzias has never had to lie about it before.

Putting those heavy feelings to the side for now, Tyzias realizes she has to get out of town. Killing those executioners was a big giveaway towards her existence and even potentially her identity, and, if it was a ploy like Tyzias suspects, it's likely the Empire's noose is closing in right that second. Luckily, Tyzias finds her answer online.

It turns out The Mask is one of the trolls Tyzias saved from Zebruh's clutches, and, after going through her files on Zebruh's case, Tyzias is able to figure out she's Chixie Roixmr. Chixie had been singing about the "judicious reaper" who saved her and had gotten people to rally behind them as part if the rebel movement. Tyzias sends Chixie a letter as this "judicious reaper", using her position to fudge the paperwork so this can't be traced back to her, and asks Chixie to perform live in her home town in three nights. Chixie announces her schedule change to her fans online, which sends swarms of The Mask fans to Tyzias's town.

Tyzias spins this to the now very paranoid local government as a potential rebel invasion and gets them to agree to an evacuation. Boldir keeps Marvus updated on this process and Marvus realizes that the killer is making an effort to escape. Deciding this would be the perfect opportunity to just get rid of them in one swoop, Marvus uses his resources to hire Azdaja and Konyyl to attack the evacuation train and kill everyone aboard.

This turns out to be Marvus's fatal mistake. Azdaja abd Konyyl start arguing at a crucial moment, allowing Tyzias, Stelsa, and Boldir to escape unharmed. Boldir even realizes how badly Marvus has shot himself in the foot as now the killer will know for a fact that someone powerful is after them.

Indeed, as soon as Tyzias, Stelsa, and Boldir make it to the next town over, Tyzias looks into the two assassins who tried to kill her. Realizing how expensive their fee is, Tyzias realizes just how powerful the person hunting her is. They're clearly onto her and have no problem bringing as much of their reach to bear on her as possible. So, she decides she has no choice but to take the fight to them.

So, Tyzias writes Chahut's name in the Death Note, effectively beheading the pro-empire side of the conflict. The should force her pursuer to back off and focus on the chaos going on above them, and it does. Marvus has to address this new power vacuum because otherwise he'll be next in line to fill the Heiress' throne, which would put him next on the killer's chopping block. Knowing he can't leave Boldir to handle this case unsupervised, he decides to kidnap Fozzer and use him ti threaten her into line directly. Now, Boldir is forced to wear a recorder all night, every night to make sure she doesn't try to betray him while he sorts things out between the purple bloods and the violet bloods.

Unfortunately, Marvus doesn't have to wait much longer to get results. Boldir is able to pin down Tyzias's identity after she pickpockets the Death Note and gets a good look at it. While Boldir doesn't meet Ryuk, as ahe snuck off before the two could notice each other, she does see that the names written down perfectly match the killer's known victims. That, alongside the rules listed up front, gives her enough proof to pin Tyzias as the killer. Boldir quietly returns the notebook so to avoid alerting Tyzias before informing Marvus.

After getting the rundown on Tyzias's personality from Boldir, Marvus kidnaps Stelsa to strongarm Tyzias into surrendering, broadcasting his demands to all of Alternia. Tyzias calls him and sets up a time and place to surrender, agreeing to come unarmed. In Tyzias's last gambit, she bribes Ryuk into staying out of sight on the night of her execution before sending Chixie a letter containing a page of the Death Note and the front page instructions how to use it. Thus, when Marvus attempts to execute her live before Alternia, he ends up dying as Chixie writes his name in the Death Note.

Marvus puts the pieces together as he dies, realizing that the strange black book filled with names that Tyzias had was how she killed her victims. He laughs and congratulates her for putting on one hell of a show before his heart stops.

With the pro-empire side soundly decapitated and with no one as competent as Marvus or Chahut left to carry the torch, Alternia swifty falls to the rebellion. Tyzias is offically given the title of the Judicial Reaper after her rebel friends rescue her and offer to shower her with awards. But, Tyzias puts all if that to the side. She needs to talk to Stelsa.

Stelsa is hurt, bitter that Tyzias did all of this behind her back. For as long as she had known her, Tyzias had said that she wanted to change Alternia peacefully. And, as much as Stelsa tried to dissuade her, she respected that. But, Tyzias assassinated the Heiress the first chance she got and now, one sweep later, had effectively taken over Alternia.

Tyzias tries to explain everything to her. She didn't want to overthrow anyone until Zebruh and Marvus forced her hand, she even hands Stelsa the Death Note and introduces her to Ryuk to prove it, but Stelsa is done.

Tyzias had the chance to tell her everything. Explain everything. Maybe even convince her of everything back when Stelsa was looking for comfort when the executioners showed up. But that moment is gone now. Stelsa leaves Tyzias behind with tears in her eyes.

Boldir catches up to Tyzias drinking at a bar. She introduces herself, explains how shes knows her, and apologizes for everything. She explains how someone she cared about was threatened and how she was currently tryinf to convince the rebels to let Fozzer out of containment due to his imperial bootlicking attitude. Tyzias symoathizes and the two bond over shared stories. Ryuk is bemused by the fact that Boldir doesn't seem intimidated by him.

After being given a high rank in the Rebellion's new regime, Tyzias is able to bring about the world she'd always dreamed of. Turning Alternia into a better world, step by step. After Glybglob is killed and the Condescension defeated, Tyzias finally works up the courage to confront Stelsa again.

After Tyzias took over, Stelsa wasn't really sure what to do with herself. So, she hid and watched the world change around her from the safety of her hive. Fear turned to curiosity and that turned to wonder. Stelsa has, during her sweeps in hiding, seen the ways that Tyzias had improved upon life on Alternia and is, after countless sweeps, willing to forgive her.

Sweeps later, after the Alternian Empire has been reshaped from the ground up and after Tyzias's body finally starts to give out, Ryuk comments that Tyzias is probably the only person he's seen win when handed the Death Note.

"Most people I give this thing too tend to lose. Usually because they try to cheat death, play God, or win big. But you? You didn't do any of that. And you won because of it. Sure, it made things a bit boring in places, but ut made things pretty fun too."

Ryuk writes Tyzias's name in his book. "Well, Tyzias, so long. It's been interesting."

[multifandomgirl-us]

Johnny Don't Leave Me

Slightly based off the song Bust Your Kneecaps by Pomplamoose

link to song X

Terry has to do some undercover work as John Ludwig and it involves getting close to you, the daughter of one of the biggest mafia bosses around. He has been undercover for a couple years now and thinks he finally has enough evidence to stop pretending.

Disclaimer: Terry in Batman Beyond is 16 years old but in this story he is 22 when he meets the reader and about 24 when the incident happens and they confront each other again.

Undercover!Terry x Mafia!reader

The sparkling diamond ring sat on the left hand ring finger perfectly. The sunshine reflecting off of it was blinding to those not used to it. You have been admiring it for the last half hour while you sat waiting for your appointment at the bridal shop. A slight smile has stayed permanent on your lips ever since the proposal from your now fiance John Ludwig.

You and John had met at a coffee shop that you and your family owned. Although coffee wasn't the only thing your small family business dealt with, that is where you spent most of your time. John had walked in one day while you were on break and asked to sit with you even though there were other tables open. From there he proceeded to woo you and you had fallen in love with him. A couple years passed and he had asked for your hand in marriage. You of course said yes and he promised to love you forever.

The wedding preparations were going as smooth as they could but you had almost forgotten one thing: the dress. Hence the appointment today at the shop. With you was your cousins Anna and Amber who were the closest thing you had to sisters. You were the only child as your mom had passed away giving birth to you. With you being the only child, you were also your father's little princess and he and the family would hurt anyone or anything that dared to lay a finger on you in the wrong way. This caused suitor after suitor to flee and for you to be single for most of your life. The only one who decided he could handle your family and you was John, or Johnny as you like to call him. He made it through your first date and more importantly he made it through being introduced to your father which is where most of them ran off.

"Y/N, we're ready for you if you will just follow me," the sales representative said, approaching your small group.

“Of course.”

As you walked, you gazed around at the white Victorian style walls lined with pictures of models in each frame wearing some of the dresses available in the boutique. Luckily for you, you knew what style of dress you wanted and had contacted the shop in order to have the style pulled right away and put in your changing room.

All of the extravagant dresses lined the wall, hanging by the rod that was fastened across the wall. Dress after dress, almost none of them felt right to you, they didn't give you that wow, until about three dresses from the last did you find the one for you.

You weren’t a traditional woman so the whole 'white dress for the wedding day' was not for you. Your power colors were red and black and that is what you were going to stick with. Your final decision was a flowing red dress with a deep v-neck and black accents on the bodice. The train of the dress was longer than the dress itself and you found a red lace veil with a tiara to match. The final preparations for your wedding were now complete and you could not wait to marry the love of your life.

-Time skip-

“Do you John Ludwig take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife? If so, say ‘I do’,” the priest spoke. At that moment, the usually non-existent smile appeared on John’s face and he let go of your hands. Your smile vanishes and instant panic sets in.

“I don’t,” John states with relief. After he spoke those words, you regretted your ‘no weapons’ rule that you put in place. Besides the pain and sadness running through your mind was the urge to hurt John.

“Get down on the ground!” The sound of multiple police officers and the doors to the chapel slamming open were all muffled to you as the only thing on your mind was getting revenge. Unfortunately for you, revenge would have to wait as John was nowhere to be seen and the friends and family who were gracious enough to attend your wedding were either being escorted out in handcuffs or running away. As most of the police were being distracted with your guests, you took your chance to escape. There was no way you could get your revenge if you were locked up.

Although those who were unlucky enough to not get away wouldn’t be locked up for long, you were still going to have to wait for the rest of your family to get out to carry out your plans. You used this time to gather resources and information on who this John character was and any family he had. He made it personal so it was only right for you to attack him on a personal level as well.

-Time skip-

Months of cyber-stalking research and actual stalking observance had led you to the true identity of the man you knew as John Ludwig. Which leads you to your current situation. The sound of guns being fired resounds throughout the warehouse, covering the sound of grunts and punches being thrown at the bat who caused all this. John, who you discovered was actually the Bat in disguise, was currently giving and receiving punches. Unfortunately for your men, it was more giving than receiving. Over half of your men in the room were getting their asses handed to them and the other half were still working on loading the “cargo” or were unconscious.

You had gotten permission from your father and gathered the men he considered “disposable” and created this whole thing. The crates being loaded were just left over boxes from previous shipments in order to not lose any actual precious cargo. The men were just some of the newbies that had joined. This whole thing was all a charade to get the Bat to you and clearly, it worked. Even if the overall heist did not work out and he found out it was a hoax, you had a plan B which was more devious than you wished to go but a girl’s gotta do what a girls gotta do.

Majority of your men had been knocked out when you decided to reveal yourself to Batman. “Well, well, well. Isn’t it Batman, or would you rather I called you John, or even better yet, Terry?” you took slow calculated steps towards the man in the skintight batsuit. As you said his real name, you saw the whites of the mask where his eyes would be widen slightly.

“Wha-, mhmm, What do you mean, who’s Terry?” the Bat asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me Terry McGinnis. When you destroyed a day that was supposed to be special for me you made it personal. So, I made sure to find out personal things about the supposed John Ludwig who to my surprise does not exist. See when the cops took over and arrested my family and friends on our wedding day. I just so happened to see the oh so familiar silhouette of Batman. Now, it was pretty obvious that either John knew the Bat or was him. I did some digging and to my surprise, found your real name is not John Ludwig, but Terry McGinnis. Your reaction to being called Terry was just the confirmation that it is you. Lucky for me, I found out everything I could about you. Like your brother Max who lives with your mom, how your dad died, or even past girlfriends like Melanie better known as 10 and Dana, your highschool sweetheart. There is nothing that you can hide from me Terry. Not when you messed with my family.” By the time you were done with your spiel, you were within arms reach of Terry. He saw this as an opportunity to grab you and shove you against the closest wall-like object to the two of you. This so happened to be one of the pallets which had a loose box on the top. The box dropped at the impact, bursting open to reveal packing peanuts and crumpled up pieces of paper.

Terry looked down at the mess just made and then back at you, “this was all just some ruse, there was no shipment going out tonight was there?”

“Wow, great detective work,” you deadpanned.

“You were really so obsessed with the idea of revenge that you created this whole scheme. Even if John Ludwig did exist, the chances of the both of you divorcing is high. All of this for a ruined wedding. That’s pathetic.”

“Yes, I did. But not just for a ruined wedding. It’s for the loss of trust, the family that was locked up, the family that was shot while being apprehended, and for messing with my emotions. I loved you and the day of the wedding is when I was shown that you had no care for me at all. I tried to stay out of my father’s business, I was trying to get out of my family because I didn’t want to subject you, subject John, to my messed up family. Turns out this family, my family, is the only group of people worth trusting. Because when you broke my heart, they did everything they could to help me even while dealing with the deaths and detainments of their own. It may be pathetic to you but you are the one who pushed me to my breaking point. Anything I do now, is your fault. Remember that, Terry McGinnis.” As much as you wanted your revenge to happen at that moment, you knew that it would be stupid and that you would be overpowered. Terry has had years of training and you are just getting started. You would get your revenge in due time but for now the psychological toll of what you would be doing in the future was enough for you.

soooooo this was long overdue... sorry

also thank you to @offendedfishnoises for continuous motivation to write this and for looking it over for me! <3

[bi-naesala]

Little secret

Fandom: Yakuza

Rating: E

Warnings: /

Relationships: Nishikiyama Akira/Nishitani Homare Characters: Nishikiyama Akira, Nishitani Homare 

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sugar Daddy Nishitani, Blow Jobs 

Summary:

There are some secrets that are worth keeping, Nishiki thinks. After all, how could he even begin to explain that he’s got an Omi guy so obsessed with him that he’s willing to spoil and buy him anything he wants?

(Also on AO3)

(Fic under read more)

There are some secrets that are worth keeping, Nishiki thinks, even if this mean having to lie to Kiryu of all people.

How could he even begin to explain that he’s got an Omi guy so obsessed with him that he’s willing to spoil and buy him anything he wants? Yeah, that would be a disastrous conversation for sure, he knows that already.

It’s not even that he’s afraid of being judged, because Kiryu wouldn’t do that to anyone, but it’s just that he’s not sure that he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not that he’s a snitch, but he could try something out of worry, which would involve spilling the beans to Kashiwagi or worse, Kazama, and then things would truly be bad.

So, next time Kiryu asks him if he wants to go out with him for a drink, he lies and says that he already has a date for the night, which isn’t the true lie, but when Kiryu asks him who he’s taking out, he says that it’s a new hostess that has taken a shine on him, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Kiryu looks convinced at least - it helps that he’s pretty gullible - and leaves the subject alone, content to make Nishiki promise that, next time, they’ll be the ones hanging out together.

  In a very weird way, Nishiki doesn’t find Sotenbori that dissimilar to Kamurocho: both are pretty shitty places with pretty shitty people.

The only difference is that here people tend to try to fuck with him more, since he doesn’t have the protection a Tojo clan pin can grant him - if he wore it here, it would do him more harm than good, so he never does - but that’s nothing that Nishiki can’t handle. Actually, it feels good to throw down once in a while, even though he’s never come to enjoy it as much as Kiryu does.

 Right when he’s done throwing the last one of the ruffians who thought it would be a good idea to mess with him, he hears a low whistle behind him. He turns around immediately, raising his fists already to keep his head protected, when he notices the person leaning against the wall, watching him with a hungry gaze.

“Well, well, well, Akira-kun… So that’s what you’ve been doing. I thought you were standing me up…”

Standing him up? What does he mean?

A quick check on his expensive watch - a gift from Nishitani - is enough to make him understand: he’s late, and not just by a few minutes! Ops, this fight has taken longer than he thought it would.

“I’m so sorry, Nishitani-san!” he apologizes immediately, bowing his head. It’s the first time something like this happens, but this doesn’t make Nishiki feel better, especially considering that he might lose his support, which he has grown accustomed too. Sure, he could leave without Nishitani’s money, but he would be sad about it. He thinks about the brand new car Nishitani has promised him if he’s good; what if he doesn’t buy it to him anymore?

Luckily for him, though, Nishitani doesn’t look mad as he approaches him and gets his arm around Nishiki’s waist.

“Aw, don’t be,” he says, leaning close to Nishiki’s neck, who shivers as he feels his breath ghosting against his skin. “Besides, I’ve got to watch a veeery good fight.”

A small chuckle escapes Nishiki’s lips. “Is that so?” he asks, exposing his neck further for Nishitani.

He gasps when Nishitani wastes no time biting down, leaving what he knows is a visible mark - he’s always been fond of marking his territory - but he doesn’t oppose any resistance, though when Nishitani pushes him against the wall, he can’t help but to roll his eyes, although he has to fight to suppress a smile.

“Here? Really?” he asks, trying to sound as done as he can.

“Why not?” Nishitani asks, pressing his hips against Nishiki’s. God, he’s hard already. “Ya’ve got me all fired up, babe.”

Nishiki knows this is a bad idea: what if the thugs he’s just knocked out come to their senses? What if somebody else walks in?

Despite his better judgement, however, Nishiki doesn’t find himself that against the idea as he should be. Nishitani’s rubbing off of him.

 He remembers Nishitani telling him that, deep down, they’re not that dissimilar, only that Nishiki still hasn’t realized it yet.

“It’s all in those eyes of yours. I can see what’s beyond them,” he said once, though Nishiki still doesn’t understand what he meant by that. He never thought he was hiding anything, though it is true that maybe he ain’t that good of a person, at least not like Kiryu is. Sweet Kiryu that has no problems beating up thugs, but then feels bad about scamming civilians, while Nishiki doesn’t. Maybe that’s just because someone like Kiryu shouldn’t be involved with the yakuza in the first place.

 Nishitani can barely contain his excitement as Nishiki drops to his knees, that much is evident. Nishiki just hopes it’ll be worth it, and that he isn’t getting his pants dirty - how would he explain getting stains only on his knees?

“Yes, good boy,” he drawls, cupping Nishiki’s cheek with a hand as the other works on his belt, then he moves it to Nishiki’s hair, caressing it. “Ever told ya how much I love yer hair?”

Nishiki does a cheeky grin, slowly pulling down the zipper. “You have, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“It’s so soft and pretty, I wanna pull it so much…”

He doesn’t even wait for Nishiki to say something before following on his words, forcing Nishiki to look up at him. It’s almost overwhelming to look at the adoration in Nishitani’s eyes, but Nishiki has gone so long without affection from the people he wanted it from that he’s drawn to it like a moth to a light; it’s what made him decide in favor of doing this whole thing in the first place.

“Yer so beautiful… I swear I’ll eat ya up someday.”

Despite his best effort not to - because it’ll make him appear easy and that’s not the impression Nishiki wants to give - he groans at those words, but before he can embarrass himself further, he gets to work.

 From the way he moans, Nishitani must be most pleased with how fast Nishiki pulls his cock out of his briefs, and especially on how fast he begins peppering it with kisses, travelling from base to tip, swirling then his tongue around it, eyes going up again to meet his gaze.

Nishitani’s so into it already, which makes Nishiki smirk. He can’t help it, he loves feeling this needed, this appreciated.

“Pretty boy…”

Knowing that Nishitani isn’t going to last long - he never does, but damn somehow he manages to always get it back up almost immediately - Nishiki decides to stop teasing, parting his lips and beginning to take his cock in his mouth.

He barely goes halfway that Nishitani, impatient already, thrusts his hips all the way, making Nishiki almost gag, but he manages to hold back, grabbing onto Nishitani thighs as he begins to fuck his mouth, relaxing his throat as much as he can to make things easier for himself.

 It’s always like this with Nishitani, and yet Nishiki would lie if he said that he’s not all for it. As much as he likes the attention and being wanted, there’s something else inside him that gets him all hot at the thought of being used, just like Nishitani is doing.

In a way, they are using each other: Nishitani is using him for sex, while Nishiki is using him for his money, although things have evolved past that point. Nishiki can safely say that what he feels for Nishitani is a deep affection, and there’s no way he could mistake the adoration Nishitani feels for him for anything else. It feels quite weird having gotten to this point, but it also feels good, so neither of them worries much about it.

 Nishitani’s close, Nishiki can hear it from the way his breathing is getting ragged, and by the way he begins praising Nishiki and how good he is - he always gets talkative when he’s about to come.

“So good, baby, so good… I should steal ya away and keep ya all to myself… My own pretty cocksucker…”

The more Nishitani keeps going, the more Nishiki feels himself getting hard in his pants, but he knows better than to try and do something about it. Not that Nishitani would be against him touching himself but, as he said once, he wants to be able to enjoy the show, but given their position he wouldn’t be able to do that well, so Nishiki tries his best to focus only on Nishitani’s pleasure and not his, knowing that, in the end, it’ll be worth it.

 When Nishitani comes, Nishiki swallows everything; he’s always been greedy.

He pulls away from the other’s spent cock, finally catching his breath but still making no move to get up, licking his lips instead, observing Nishitani and his reaction; that simple gesture is enough to get him fired up again, but if they go for round two here, they’ll surely attract some unwanted attention. Besides, they have something very important to be.

Nishitani cups Nishiki’s chin, catching the remainder of saliva at the corner of his mouth. “Such a good boy for me, Akira-kun~ You deserve a reward.”

At those words, Nishiki’s lips perk up in a smile. Yes, he has been good, hasn’t he? He certainly deserves a reward!

He doesn’t bother hiding how excited he is at the news as he gets up and begins asking: “What is it?”

Nishitani chuckles, finding Nishiki’s whole change of demeanor endearing.

“Why don’t ya walk with me a bit?” he asks, after tucking his now flaccid dick back in his pants. When Nishiki nods, he turns around, signaling Nishiki with his head to follow him. What he wants to show him isn’t that far from where they are; actually, they just have to get back to the main road before…

 A gasp leaves Nishiki’s lips as soon as he sees it.

“N… Nishitani-san!”

Nishitani laughs as Nishiki steps towards the car that has been parked right in front of where they are and not only that, but he also goes circles around it, examining it in every detail.

He did mention to Nishitani that he wanted a new car, something better than the one he has now, old and shitty - but Nishiki still loves his baby nonetheless - and Nishitani had told him that, if he was good, he’d get him one, something that would make everybody else envious, sure, but Nishiki didn’t think he would give it to him already!

Wait, what if he’s jumping to conclusions? For all he knows, this is Nishitani’s new car, not a gift for him.

He turns to Nishitani. “Is this truly mine?”

“It sure is!” Nishitani exclaims, throwing the keys at Nishiki. “How about taking it for a drive, huh?”

Nishiki almost lets the keys fall for the excitement, but they’re still secured in his hands as he nods. “Yes, please! Thank you so much!”

He doesn’t even wait for Nishitani to follow as he gets in the driver seat, though he doesn’t turn the car on until Nishitani’s inside as well.

“Where to?” he asks.

“Wherever you want!” Nishitani replies, ready to enjoy a nice ride.

At those words, Nishiki’s smile grows larger. He has a new baby, and he can take her to whenever he wants to? Oh, this is truly the best!

 He turns on the car and begins to drive around Sotenbori.

Oh, this car is so much better than his old one, much easier to drive around the way he wants to. The seats are also very comfy, which he can’t say about his old baby.

He turns to Nishitani, then figuring that it’s a bad idea, he goes back to look at the road - the last thing he needs now is to run over someone because he wasn’t paying attention. Still, the fact that he can’t see him doesn’t mean that he can’t talk to him.

“Nishitani-san, thank you. I mean it.”

He feels a hand creeping up his thigh, squeezing it - and thankfully doesn’t do anything more. He can’t see him, but he knows that Nishitani’s grinning ear to ear - he’s seen that expression on him countless times.

 Eventually he’ll have to get back to Kamurocho, but the knowledge that he’ll do it with his new shiny car fills him with a sense of smugness that he’s been feeling more and more since meeting Nishitani.

He’ll have to find a plausible explanation as to how he’s gotten a new car so suddenly, but that’ll be a problem for future Nishiki, because now he only wants to enjoy the ride with Nishitani, and that’s exactly what he’ll do, screw everything else.

[capcarolsdanver]

Why Her? (Part 3)

Summary: This fic is based off a request from an anon after some speculations that have been made on my blog. Brie enlists the help of the reader to get a date with a girl that reader knows from class, only for unexpected feelings to be caught. Drama/angst/fluff to come! Pairing: Brie x Reader

A/N: Part 3 is here! Apologies for the slight delay! The next and final part should be out soon! As usual, any feedback is much appreciated, so I look forward to hearing what you think! Enjoy!

Please do not repost my writing anywhere without my permission.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4

“Wait, you’ve never seen Star Wars?!”

Brie has to literally shout for you to hear her over the loud thumping of the music that fills the room around you, though her apparent outrage at your new admission is evident. You shake your head and laugh as she continues to look at you incredulously.

“None of them?”

You take a brief glance around to see if anyone else is paying attention to the outburst you’re being subjected to, though none of your fellow partygoers seem to pay you or Brie any mind.

“Nope,” you confirm again. Brie stares at you in disbelief for a few more seconds, almost as if she is personally offended by your revelation. In fact, the longer she stares at you, the more you’re convinced that she does feel personally offended.

“Well, we’re gonna have to fix that, then,” she says with such determination that you’re actually a little worried what she would do if you tried to disagree with her.

Since you had first introduced Brie to Sarah about two weeks ago, you both have attended another two parties together, this being the second. During those two weeks, you and Brie have grown a lot closer, texting each other constantly and even hanging out every couple of days. Of course, you’re still helping her with Sarah, and you have to remind yourself of that every now and again.

It’s hard for you to admit to yourself that Brie is probably the person you are the closest to now when you are highly aware that the reason for that is because you’re trying to help her get another girl. Who knows how Brie views your relationship, and who knows what will happen between the two of you when she does inevitably get that date with Sarah.

You’re pulled from the rabbit hole your thoughts had managed to take you down when Sarah herself suddenly appears in front of you and Brie.

“Oh my god, I’m running into you guys again?!” She exclaims instead of a more formal greeting, a large grin on her face.

“Small world,” you reply, and return the warm hug that Sarah envelops you in, a greeting that you’ve grown used to from Sarah. You watch her then turn to Brie and crush her in a hug too. You would laugh at the sudden shock and panic evident on Brie’s face if it weren’t for the uncomfortable feeling that hits your entire body at that very moment.

Brie is late to wrap her own arms around Sarah, who seems entirely unfazed by Brie’s awkwardness as she steps back again to regard you both. You notice that her skin is flushed, the expression on her face perhaps a little too laidback, and she takes a large sip from the cup that you only now realise she’s holding.

Sarah is drunk. Very drunk, if the slight sway of her body despite her standing in one spot is any indication.

She surveys the space around her, her body dramatically twisting around with the movement, and she looks back at you and Brie with excitement in her eyes.

“Let’s dance!” She proclaims eagerly. You and Brie share a quick look while Sarah downs the rest of her drink and unceremoniously drops her plastic cup to the ground. She grabs you both and drags you towards the overcrowded group of people who appear to be attempting to move in sync to the beat. Although, it looks like most are too drunk, or just simply have no sense of rhythm whatsoever.

Sarah doesn’t give you a chance to protest before she joins the flock of people and starts moving her body to the music. You hazard a glance at Brie, who still looks shell-shocked at the sudden turn of events. You also can’t help but notice the distinct direction of Brie’s gaze, her eyes obviously landing on Sarah’s ass as she dances in front of you, seemingly in her own world. That same uncomfortable feeling washes over you again and you frown at whatever reaction your body seems to be having without your permission.

You purposefully advert your gaze from the scene unfolding in front of you. Suddenly feeling like a major third wheel, you decide that maybe it’s a good time to leave Sarah and Brie on their own. You can’t be a buffer between them forever after all.

Without another glance at either of the two girls, you turn away from them and begin pushing through the thick crowd of people towards a more open space. You noticed earlier that the house has a wrap-around porch. Maybe you can go there for some fresh air now.

On your way, your arm catches on something, or more accurately, someone. You’re pulled to a stop a you let out a deep sigh, getting ready to ward off any unwanted to advances from some drunk frat boy that you expect to find attached to you.

You turn around in a flash, your deep scowl quickly fading from your face when you realise that it’s Brie who has a hold of your arm. You freeze, watching her. Her eyes move over you, her features laced with concern and she tightens her grip on you, leaning her body towards you. She stops once her face is practically right next to your ear so you can hear her.

“Are you okay?” She asks. Despite having to somewhat raise her voice still, her tone is surprisingly gentle. You realise you aren’t actually sure how to answer her question. It’s obvious you’re going through some kind of emotional reaction, though you aren’t quite sure what to make of it just yet.

Brie waits a long beat, and when you don’t answer she leans back so she can look at you again. She observes you for another few moments before she seems to make up her mind about something, her hand dropping from your forearm to your hand.

“Come on,” she says and tugs you to walk with her towards the porch you originally were headed towards.

She pushes the sliding door open and shuts it again when you have both made it outside and you’re surprised by how much the door drowns out the sound of the ridiculously loud music. Suddenly in a much more open, quiet space, you feel like you can actually breathe again.

“What’s wrong?” She asks. She’s still watching you carefully, and you begin to wonder just how fragile you must look given her reaction. Damn your stupid emotions. “Did something happen?”

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head, willing this rogue feeling inside of you to go away. “I’m fine.” You lock eyes with her in an attempt to convince her. Judging from the expression on her face, you don’t do a great job of that.

It’s silent for another minute when something suddenly crosses your mind. “Wait, why did you come after me? You had Sarah dancing basically on top of you.” This time it’s her turn to drop eye contact and she shrugs lightly.

“I was worried about you.” You’re taken aback by how sincerely she speaks. “I mean, you just up and left.”

In truth, you hadn’t even expected her to notice your absence after you saw the way she was watching Sarah. The fact that she immediately realised you’d left and then followed you to make sure you were okay is actually remarkable to you, considering the circumstances.

“Well I’m okay,” you assure her, squeezing the hand that’s still clasped in your own before letting go and dropping your own hand back to your side. “You wanna go find her again?” You nod behind you towards the door and Brie’s eyes follow, glancing passed your shoulder.

She considers it for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s okay.” You blink at her, not expecting that. She notices your surprise and jumps back in to explain herself further. “It’s getting pretty late now so I think it’s a good time to go. Besides, she’s drunk. She probably still hasn’t realised we’ve left her on the dance floor yet.”

You laugh at that, figuring that she could actually be right. Sarah did seem pretty out of it. You doubt she’ll remember much of tonight.

You agree with Brie, eager to leave the party as well. Brie walks with you back to your dorm, which is thankfully only a short walk, before you bid her farewell and watch her walk in the direction of her own apartment.

————————

The following Friday, you’re trying to force your brain to pay attention in your morning class when you phone vibrates on your desk, easily pulling your attention away from your professor.

You see a new text from Brie waiting for you.

“Are you free tonight?”

You sigh, expecting yet another invite to a party to help Brie out with Sarah. You personally haven’t heard anything about any parties she’d be attending that night, but maybe Brie had.

“I don’t have any grand plans if that’s what you’re asking”

You don’t even bother to put your phone back down. You’ve learnt by now that Brie is a quick replier.

“Okay great!! Movie night??”

You stare down at your phone for far too long. It definitely had not been the text you were expecting from her. You of course consider Brie at least a close friend at this point, but you weren’t sure Brie considered anything similar about you.

“Where?”

“How about my apartment?”

Again, you’re slightly surprised. Over the admittedly short few weeks of friendship you and Brie share together, Brie had only seen your dorm room once when you had to run back up there after forgetting something before one of the parties you’d gone to. You still haven’t even seen the building that Brie lives in.

You consider your answer for a moment. It briefly occurs to you that this might just end up being another planning session, but the prospect of spending more time with Brie has you agreeing before you really even give yourself time to think too much about it.

“Sure”

————————

You stare at the apartment door, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Though, it seems to be a more and more common feeling the longer whatever you have with Brie goes on. You step forward to knock on the door and then step back, surveying the hallway while you wait.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary, and you find yourself feeling glad that Brie is living in what seems to be a clean, safe apartment building. You had admittedly been worried when you first arrived, as the building itself doesn’t seem to have any lock or security feature to stop strangers from waltzing into the building whenever they please. Those fears seem to dissipate slightly, though, when you see no reason to worry by the state of the interior of the building thus far.

An older woman steps out of her own apartment a few doors over and notices you, offering you a smile before heading in the opposite direction down the hall. The people here seem nice, too.

The door in front of you swings open and Brie is greeting you with a wide smile.

“Hey!” She pulls you into a hug. You’re not quite expecting it but you happily return the hug. “Come in,” she says and steps back to give you room to walk through the doorway and into her apartment.

It’s not the greatest apartment you’ve ever seen, but it’s a major improvement over the tiny shoebox you call a dorm room. The apartment is mostly one big open space, the kitchen to the left of the entrance and the living area to the right. It looks like there’s a small hallway straight ahead that must lead to the bedroom and bathroom.

“It’s not much,” she says, watching you take in the new space around you.

“I love it!” You reply, shooting a reassuring smile her way before you continue scanning the apartment. You can see that her living room area to the far right is perfectly set up for movie-watching, with a ridiculously comfortable looking couch, a couple of bean bags and some plush throw blankets neatly folded over the back of the couch.

She also has a couple of gaming consoles and their respective games all stacked neatly within the TV cabinet underneath her large television. You smile at the insane amount of Nintendo games you see.

What an absolute dork you’ve managed to make friends with.

“Did you bring popcorn?” She excitedly asks, noticing the bag of microwave popcorn in your hand that you’d bought on your way to her place. She grabs it from you and looks at the bag to confirm what it is.

“Of course,” you nod. “What would a movie night be without popcorn?”

“I like the way you think,” she laughs, dropping the bag on the kitchen counter. “I’ve ordered some pizza too, so once that gets here we can officially start the night!”

You silently thank whatever higher power is out there when you realise that Brie appears to be planning on taking the night off of the whole Sarah thing too.

She walks over to the couch and drops down onto it and you join her, sitting towards the other side of the couch. You’re unsure of the appropriate distance you should sit from her so decide on a relatively safe distance. Not too far but not too close. The couch is just as comfortable as it looks and you practically melt into it.

“So what are we watching?” You ask and Brie hits you with an expectant look, as if you should know the answer already.

“Star Wars, obviously. Duh,” she says matter-of-factly. “I told you I’d make you watch them.” You snort at her how serious she turns at the mention of Star Wars, and raise your hands defensively in front of you.

“Okay, okay. Star Wars it is. I’m too scared to try to make you put something else on.”

Her serious look suddenly brightens and she smirks at you. “That’s what I thought,” she says in a playfully menacing kind of way and you chuckle at her.

Yep, an absolute dork.

There’s a knock on at the door that grabs your attention and Brie jumps up to her feet again.

“Must be the pizza! Gimme one sec.”

Brie hurries off to the door and answers it, chatting politely to the delivery guy on the other side of the door, and a moment later she closes the door again and walks back over to the couch, looking all kinds of pleased with herself over the pizza in her hands.

She throws open the pizza box and eagerly grabs a slice, taking a bite. You grab your own slice as well, just as eager as Brie. While she continues munching on her pizza, she grabs her TV remote and gets the movie ready.

“Are you ready for the most incredible cinematic experience of your life?”

You roll your eyes at her playfully and hold back a laugh at the intense look on her face. “Just play the damn thing, would you?” You say, which does earn you a glare from Brie, but she decides not to retaliate in favour of playing the movie. She puts on A New Hope.

To your surprise, you actually do enjoy the film. Although, you do have to ask a lot of questions throughout the entire thing to understand everything that’s going on. To Brie’s credit, though, she doesn’t seem at all annoyed by your non-stop questions. She seems more happy that you’re actually trying to pay attention and understand it than anything.

“So?! What did you think?” Brie asks when the credits start rolling, turning to you and expectantly awaiting your response.

“I liked it,” you confirm, smiling when Brie grins at you. “But where was the little green guy? Isn’t he, like, one of the main characters?”

Brie’s grin drops so quickly that you almost flinch. “The little green guy?!” She exclaims. “You mean Yoda?”

“Yeah, him!” You light up with recognition of his name. Brie looks completely dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe you forgot Yoda’s name. Everyone knows who Yoda is.” She shakes her head at you, truly looking speechless. “Luckily for you, he’s in Empire Strikes Back.” You blink at her, a completely blank look on your face, and she narrows her eyes at you. “It’s the next movie in the series,” she explains.

You nod your head in understanding, quietly enjoying how frustrated she seems to be getting by your complete lack of knowledge of all things Star Wars.

“Let me go get some popcorn ready and then we’ll put it on,” she says and stands from the couch again. “Do you want anything else?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” you smile and watch her head to the kitchen.

Your attention is pulled away when you hear your phone vibrate on the couch beside you. You pick it up and check your new notification, frowning at the screen.

It’s an invite to some last minute party one of your peers has decided to throw tonight. You do get these kinds of invites a lot, and you know practically the entire student body usually gets sent the same invite, so you quickly click on the link to take you to the event page for the party.

You click on the list of people who have confirmed their attendance and you feel your frown deepen when you see Sarah on that list.

Brie returns to the couch where you’re still staring at your phone and notices the frown on your face before she even sits back down.

“Is everything okay?” She asks.

“Hm?” You look up at her, snapping yourself back into reality. “Oh. Yeah.” You sigh before aiming the phone screen in her general direction. “Turns out someone’s throwing a party tonight.” You try to add some kind of lilt to your voice but you know it falls flat.

“Oh,” Brie says, barely paying any mind to your phone screen before flopping back down onto the couch, closer to you now than she was before. She looks remarkably unbothered by the event page open on your phone.

“Looks like Sarah is gonna be there,” you say, studying her face. All she does is nod vaguely at your words, and then she’s picking up her TV remote again like she doesn’t even register what you’ve said.

“Okay, are you ready for Episode V?” You blink at her for a moment, watching for any kind of rogue emotion on her face, but seeing no signs of any.

“You don’t want to go to the party?”

“Not really,” she shrugs with one shoulder. “I’d honestly rather we just stay here tonight.” Her eyes flick over to you, showing the first signs of emotion you’ve seen since you brought up the party. “Did you want to go?”

“No,” you easily answer, and you mentally scold yourself for answering so quickly, but your answer seems to please Brie. You notice the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips and she looks back at the TV.

“Good,” she mutters. She presses play on the movie and leans back into the couch, offering the bowl of popcorn out to you. You grab some and find yourself leaning back and making yourself more comfortable, too.

You let yourself forget about the party, at least for now. If Brie would really rather stay here watching movies with you instead of dragging you along to yet another party so you can help her talk to another girl, then by all means you’re thrilled to go along with it.

You still have more questions to ask throughout the movie so you can follow along, but you do at times find yourself a little distracted by the gap between yours and Brie’s bodies that seems to be growing smaller and smaller as the movie goes on.

By the time you’re halfway through watching Return of the Jedi, your thigh is pressed against Brie’s and her head is resting on your shoulder, tucked slightly into your neck. You realise she’s asleep somewhere towards the end of the movie, and it’s not long after that you find yourself drifting to sleep too.

————————

You wake up the next morning to sunlight filtering in through the windows, pleasantly warming your skin as it reaches you. You let out a content sigh, stretching your arms out and snuggling further into the throw blanket that’s been draped over you.

Your eyes suddenly open the second you remember where you are. You’re alone on the couch now, lying down, no longer in the seated position you remember being in last night. You sit up, glancing around Brie’s apartment from your spot on the couch.

Everything seems very still, and you wait for any signs of someone else in the apartment, only to be met with complete silence. You stand up from the couch, dropping the blanket back down and take careful steps through the apartment, almost too scared to disrupt the quiet of the morning.

You don’t exactly feel comfortable making yourself at home by walking through Brie’s apartment wherever you like, but you do glance down the hallway, looking through the open bedroom door to find no signs of Brie.

You make your way back to the kitchen counter, hoping for some kind of clue as to where Brie could have gone to. Luckily, you find it; a piece of paper with a handwritten letter that you assume is meant for you.

“Morning Sleepy Head,

Was in need of some coffee so I’m heading to the diner down the street. Come meet me there once you’re awake. I’ll order us some pancakes!

xx Brie”

You assume she’s referring to the diner you and her had previously met up at to discuss the Sarah plan. Now that you think about it, you do realise that the diner is incredibly close to Brie’s apartment. That certainly explains why she likes to go there so frequently.

You smile to yourself as you read over the letter again. Your feelings towards Brie had grown confusing, but they were starting to become more and more clearer. So you can’t help but wonder if the fact that Brie wants to spend even more time with you means anything significant or if you’re just reading into things.

You move quickly, trying to make yourself at least somewhat presentable given that you’re still in the clothes you showed up in last night, and leave Brie’s apartment to head to the diner.

It’s only a short walk, and you don’t even allow yourself to overthink anything before you walk into the diner and start scanning for Brie. You spot her standing near the same table in the far corner that she was at the last time you were here. Only, you abruptly realise, she isn’t alone.

Standing opposite her is Sarah. The two of them are chatting animatedly, laughing among themselves. At one point Sarah reaches out and touches Brie’s forearm mid-laugh, and you can do nothing but watch their interaction from a distance.

The smile that you don’t even realise is on your face drops and you only watch them for another couple of seconds, but that short time makes you second-guess everything. Your heart sinks in such an indescribable way that you almost start worrying that you can’t breathe for a moment.

Without even thinking about it, you’re already turning to leave, just at the same moment that Brie looks your way and notices you. She goes to wave at you but instead her brows furrow as she watches you turn and hurry towards the door you had only just entered through.

In the back of your mind you register her shouting your name, but there’s only one thought that demands every ounce of your attention, repeating itself over and over again.

Why her?

[carewyncromwell]

Maybe part of the reason JC shies away from utilizing Duncan more is, not only does he know too much WHICH HE DOES, but any development into his character would just be too dark for the game. Anything past his "im dead lol" jokes just gets... depressing. This is a kid who was murdered in a very painful way with no hope for the future. Everyone he loves will die and leave him alone forever. Is this level dark stuff allowed in a kids game? Part 1

Whew! Okay, so first off, wow! Very interesting sidequest idea for Duncan. Thank you so much for sharing it with me! 

But to your first point, at the very top...this is kind of one of my biggest problems with Jam City and its writing. “Is this level dark stuff allowed in a kids game?” And my counterpoint would be it should be. 

Look -- I work at a Disney theme park. I work with kids every single day. And from my experience, I can say with certainty that kids are a helluva lot more intelligent and reasonable than a lot of adults give them credit for. They know that terrible things happen in the world, and they know that the world isn’t always fair. And there would be ways to use Duncan’s character where he doesn’t have to be doomed to watch everyone he grows to care about fade away forever -- who says he couldn’t find some measure of peace through his friendship with MC and Jacob and be able to finally pass on into the next life knowing he really did make an impact? That’s what I plan to do in my headcanon version of events. 

And for that matter, this game is not played by very young children  -- it’s geared for 12+, as in the audience that Harry Potter as a franchise was always geared toward. And I’m sorry, but for all of J.K.’s faults as a writer, she never doubted that young people could handle dark subject matter like murder, bigotry, etc. without being coddled. We’ve already watched MC’s friends get Imperiused and tortured. We’ve already watched a character we got emotionally invested in at the very beginning of the game get brutally murdered before our very eyes. Yes, maybe it was upsetting, but that’s the POINT. Stories shouldn’t just be fluffy and inconsequential all the time. I can’t help but feel like the vast majority of the sidequests as of late have suffered because they have so little of substance or stakes behind them, even compared to what came previously -- and honestly, even the main storyline since mid-year 6 has petered out to nothing because R is busy doing things like dropping off random magical creatures from around the globe in Britain and apparently putting memory potions in haircare products rather than doing things a real Cabal would do. It doesn’t feel like some grand plan or conspiracy, or even like some well-planned distractions while R does more evil things on the side, since we don’t get any evidence R is actually USING those things to do anything more serious, like getting access to classified Ministry intelligence or killing people. (Instead they steal one Portkey, and the Ministry doesn’t even bother to find out where it’s Charmed to go, since that might be a pretty big hint about their true intentions. I mean, there’s a bloody CHARM to turn things into Portkeys, you don’t need to steal specific objects to turn them into a Portkey.) It feels like some rabble-rousers causing trouble for the government, a la Carmen Sandiego stealing random pieces of world history for the thrill of it, not a group trying to destroy or overthrow anything or terrorize people to get their way. Young Harry Potter fans could digest the Death Eaters back in the day -- they could handle R being more of a real threat, just as they could accept other types of dark subject matter. They could handle discussion of PTSD post-Redacted -- Harry goes through some of that in Order of the Phoenix. They could handle a discussion about bigotry and prejudice -- that’s one of the central themes of the original Potter books. They could handle both Duncan and Jacob being sort of stuck out of time after dying prematurely and coming back as a ghost and being stuck in a portrait for so many years -- that same sort of thing happens to Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers in the MCU, and plenty of young adults watch the MCU. 

I understand doing anything with Duncan could be “depressing” if not properly balanced out, but you know, being sad isn’t a crime. It’s part of being human. I frankly think getting a real emotional reaction for a character you created should be a welcome thing, rather than a half-hearted shrug like the vast majority of these recent sidequests have prompted out of me. It means that people actually care about the characters you’ve created -- go figure. 

As well -- I don’t think Duncan “knows too much,” personally. I know this game is called Hogwarts Mystery, but it can’t be a real mystery if we don’t have tools that could allow us to start putting the big picture together ourselves. Again, for all of her faults, Rowling understood this as a writer. We could put together, with all the info we got about Snape throughout the books, that him killing Dumbledore wasn’t because he was truly evil all along. We could put together that Rita Skeeter was an illegal Animagus, like we learned the Marauders were a book prior. We could put together that Harry was a Horcrux, based on what we learned about Horcruxes and Harry’s connection with Voldemort. And maybe having someone who could help us get a better picture of what R wants would help us better define these antagonists we’re facing and develop them into a real threat, instead of this vague red-robed shadow that honestly just seems to do random things for the hell of it rather than as part of some grand plan. I understand not understanding someone in small doses can make them intimidating, but it also makes them less fleshed-out and developed as characters and makes it harder for us to care about whether they get what they want or not. As they say, a hero is only as good as one’s villain. 

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Three: The Cover

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Words: 2,332

MASTERLIST

~

As soon as the hospital would allow you to leave, Emily and her team drove you to the FBI headquarters where they’d brief you on the plan, whatever that meant.

By the time you’d gotten there, you’d heard more about serial killers and their behavior than you’d ever like to. It took a while for you to calm down enough to properly listen, so when you were ready, everyone was as gentle as possible.

“This unsub has killed three other women at the least,” the bald man from the hospital, Morgan, his name was, said.

“Unsub?” you asked quietly.

“Unidentified subject,” a tall, wiry man said. He seemed a little young to be working for the FBI. “He’s been targeting women of your approximate appearance, same hair color, same height.”

The man flipped over a large whiteboard to reveal pictures of women that looked remarkably like you. It was unnerving in the first place, but downright terrifying when you considered the fact that those women were dead.

“But, I mean, there’s a ton of girls who look like me,” you stuttered. “Just because I look like that doesn’t make me a target, right?”

“All the victims have been discovered wearing elaborate costumes, clothes from many different eras. With each of them, a copy of a classic book accompanied the body.” Morgan looked over the police report the officer had been taking from you. “You said you own a bookstore?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean there’s a killer after me!”

There was an uncomfortable silence as the team looked at each other, clearly unsure of what to say.

“What?” you prompted.

The leader spoke, Hotch.

“We have evidence that this particular unsub has been displaying stalking behavior on an unknown woman in town. Based on your recent break-in and physical appearance, we believe you may be that woman.”

“That’s a pretty big leap,” you said, doubtful. Someone just broke into your house. It didn’t mean there was a crazy stalker killer after you.

“Actually, the theft of a personal item, something that has value to you and only you: the locket, your hairbrush, signifies that the perpetrator cares less about monetary value and more about what you value. This suggests obsession and stalking behavior.”

If a dictionary could talk that’s what it would sound like. 

“So, someone’s gonna kill me?”

The team hesitated.

“Unlikely,” Morgan said after a moment, “Most stalker-killers don’t intend to murder the subject of their obsession. Instead, this particular one seems to be taking it out on women who look like you.”

“So, someone is killing because of me.”

The silence was answer enough.

You weren’t sure what you had planned on doing today, but it certainly wasn’t this. Sitting in the middle of an FBI conference room surrounded by agents telling you that there was a killer obsessed with you.

“What’s gonna happen?” 

A blonde woman who hadn’t spoken yet came and knelt by you.

“We’re going to place a protective detail on you. An agent will be with you at all times while the investigation continues. We’d like you to continue your routine as normal. Any change in your schedule will prompt a change in the unsub’s behavior. He’s comfortable right now and we want him to stay that way.”

Comfortable. They wanted to keep your stalker comfortable.

“Okay. What do I do first?” You just wanted them to catch this guy so you could move on with your life.

“What do you normally do on Saturdays?” Emily asked.

“It depends. It’s the only day I have off from work. Sometimes I hang out with my friend Steve, go to the park, or just stay home and chill.”

“Well, what does the rest of your week look like?”

“I’m at school from seven to three, then work immediately after. Usually, I close up at eleven so I’m home by midnight.”

A stunned silence followed this summary of your schedule.

“What?”

The skinny man spoke, “What you’ve described is roughly an eighty-eight hour work week not factoring in all the hours doing homework.”

“Fast math,” you muttered. “But, yeah, pretty much. I’m either in school, doing homework, or at work. I don’t even know why anyone would want to stalk me. I don’t do anything.”

“Nevertheless, there is someone after you,” the blonde woman said. “We’re going to have to assign someone from the team to be your protector.”

“Meaning one of you is going to have to follow me everywhere?”

It was an uncomfortable situation already and every question you asked seemed to raise the tension in the room.

“Which of you is it gonna be?” Again, the team looked around at each other, seemingly not sure, themselves.                                                                            

“Why is this happening to me.”

It wasn’t a question. And they all knew it.

~

You waited patiently in the next room while the agents discussed what the cover would be. Finally, alone with your thoughts, you found you weren’t as scared as you probably should have been.

Sure, it was frightening to think there was someone obsessed with you, but you’d been in scary relationships before. And when your last ex decided to break in over a year ago, you certainly didn’t get an FBI detail. You wondered if this was at all related, making a mental note to bring it up later. 

In the office next door, their voices were muffled but loud. You considered each member of the team, thinking about which one would be the best protector.

Emily was the one you’d talked to the most, Morgan seemed strong, as did the leader, Hotch. You didn’t know who the older gentleman with the goatee was, but he was probably your last choice. The blonde woman had made a nice impression. The tall skinny guy was quick-witted and you would have laughed at his demeanor if not for the serious situation you were in.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the doors opening and the team coming back in, somber but determined looks on their faces.

Hotch spoke first, surprisingly gently.

“We’ve created a protection program. There will be a surveillance team parked outside your apartment and your workplace at all times. You’ll need to stop going to school during the investigation. In the meantime, you’ll need someone to move into your apartment with you to keep a closer eye.”

“How many bedrooms is your apartment?” The skinny man asked.

“One,” at your answer, the skinny man went pink. “Why?”

“The cover we’ve created places, Doctor Reid, here—“ Hotch gestured to the skinny man “—as your boyfriend who’s just moved in with you. That way he can keep you safe in your apartment.”

“Boyfriend?” You looked at him — Doctor Reid — and he met your eyes. Upon the contact, his eyes went wide and he dropped his gaze to the floor, cheeks reddening.

“It’s the best cover to place him in your apartment,” Emily assured you.

“Okay.”

It would be strange to live with a man. Sure, you’d had guys crash on your couch before and one very short relationship where you’d moved in together. But that was after a year together. Could you deal with a strange man living in your home so suddenly?

“You should probably get going,” Morgan said, making you and Doctor Reid jump slightly.

“Of course,” the doctor said, standing. “Um, I don’t have a car.”

You felt yourself smiling for the first time all day. He’s actually rather handsome, you found yourself thinking. That thought was quickly shooed away and you responded.

“Neither do I. I like walking places. Anywhere I can’t walk, the bus is much cheaper.”

He gave you a soft, awkward smile and ran his hand through his scruffy hair. 

“Well, you’ll have to use a government-issued vehicle,” Hotch said, breaking the spell between you and the doctor. “It’s safer for you to drive. Now, I want you and Reid to head over to his place now so he can collect his things to move into yours. We have a limited time frame to work in so as not to arouse the suspicion of our unsub. Remember, a security detail will be following you at all times.

“When you get back to your apartment, Reid will send the team a text. We’ll continue the investigation from afar and keep you both updated frequently. Any questions?”

He had spoken so fast, it was a lot to take in. 

“Where’s he gonna sleep?” you said, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Hotch looked at Reid, then back at you. He opened his mouth, about to say something, then thought better of it.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said briskly and left the meeting room.

You turned to Reid and forced a smile. This morning did not go how you thought it was going to, but something about this man cheered you up whether you wanted it to or not.

“Shall we?” he said, motioning to the door and clearing his throat.

Nodding softly, you followed him out of the building and into the parking lot. He led you to a small green car that looked too . . . normal to be in the FBI car park.

“Who’s car is this?”

“It's a government issue. They have a bunch of extra cars down here for undercover work. I grabbed the keys to this one on the way out.” Then, more to himself, “I’ve kinda always had my eye on it anyway.”

He was a strange man. Not the type you expect to work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Even more startling was catching a glimpse of the gun on his hip as you both climbed into the car.

Reid must have noticed your sudden uncomfortability because he said, “I’m sorry about the gun, I know it can be unnerving, but it's a standard-issue. It’s to keep you safe.”

“I know,” you said shortly. You’d never liked guns. But Reid seemed to know what he was doing and, strangely enough, you found yourself trusting him.

Several minutes of total silence later, you were outside his apartment, helping him load a box of his things into the trunk.

“You really didn’t need to carry that,” he said, getting back in the driver's seat.

“I know, I don’t mind. I figure it’s the least I can do for you after all . . . this.”

He looked for a moment as though he were about to say something, then rethought it and started the car up, driving toward your apartment.

“We have to take the elevator,” you said, steering him towards the lift. He’d placed his bag on top of the box despite your protest you didn’t mind carrying something. Even though the pile was stacked so high he could barely see over the top.

“The elevator?” he groaned.

“I know, I hate it too, but the stairs are broken so we have to.”

“Isn’t it usually the other way around?” he grumbled as you rode the lift up to your floor. There was barely enough room for the two of you. It was less like an elevator and more like a small closet.

“This is mine,” you said, unlocking the door and stepping into your flat, regarding it very differently now that a stranger was with you.

“Sorry, let me just—“ quick as you could, you cleared some space on the coffee table for him to set down his things, took some dishes to the sink, and shoved a pile of dirty laundry into a basket.

He set the box down and took in his surroundings. You waited patiently for his judgment.

“Woah!” He pointed to your bedroom door where a huge Doctor Who poster was. You cringed. If you’d known you’d be having . . . company, you’d have tidied up a bit, hid some nerdy memorabilia. At least you’d closed your bedroom door.

“Oh, yeah, just ignore that. Guilty pleasure.”

He looked at you, eyes wide and smiling.

“I love Doctor Who!”

Shocked, you let a smile slip, earning one from him in return.

“Cool! Well, there’s something to do with our time together.”

Reid looked away for a moment, then regained himself.

“So, about the sleeping situation. . ?”

“Right, of course,” you grabbed some blankets from the linen closet and walked over to the couch. “Um, it folds out. Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!” He perked up, slumping down on the couch and getting comfortable. “I can fall asleep pretty much anywhere, it’s no problem.”

“Okay! Well, I think I’m gonna take a nap. Feel free to help yourself to any food or whatever. The bathroom is just right there. If you need anything let me know. Just make yourself at home, really.”

“Thank you, oh, um . . .” he seemed more flustered than an FBI agent should. Actually, it was kind of comforting. “We haven’t really technically met.”

Oh yeah. You hadn’t introduced yourself to anyone back at Quantico.

“Right! Um, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I guess I assumed you already knew that. You’re Doctor Reid?” 

You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just stared at it awkwardly.

“Spencer! Please, call me Spencer. Sorry for not shaking hands, but the amount of germs passed through a single handshake is astronomical. It’s amazing it’s still in practice. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

He blanched, then backtracked.

“I mean, not that that’s what I’m suggesting. I just thought it was interest— Let me try again. Call me Spencer. Please.”

He flashed you a pitiful smile, seemingly desperate for a fresh start. It wasn’t necessary though, because you delighted in the way he babbled.

“Alright, Spencer,” you smiled warmly at him. “I’m going to sleep now.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Once you’d gotten comfortable in bed, you realized there was no way you’d be able to sleep. Not with everything that happened today. 

Then you thought of the handsome, smart, strong man in the next room who was dedicated to protecting you from any possible threat. 

You were asleep within minutes.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life

[dulce-pjm]

get to know me tag game !!

tagged by the lovely @hauntedlilies !! thanks sweet m! these are always fun :))

as usual i rambled and got a little personal with the answers so you know all you followers keep building up the blackmail material i guess LOL

When is your birthday?

january 15!

What is your favorite color?

ahhh it’s always changing but rn i’m vibing with purple, pink, green, and yellow :))

What’s your lucky number?

7, 10, 15 :)

Do you have any pets?

yes !!! two cats and two dogs and i adore them !!!

How tall are you?

5′8″ (watch out jimin!! based on the evidence i have seven years left to outgrow you !!!)

How many pairs of shoes do you own?

i haven’t a clue

Favorite song?

my go-to answer is always seesaw but tbh it’s so hard to pick !!

Favorite movie?

agghhhhhh how do you choose???? i’ve mostly been watching animated movies recently bc it comforts me so probably your name or monster’s inc :)

What would be your ideal partner?

...park jimin?

LOL in all seriousness... i tend to like extroverts and just people who are super passionate about something !!! both romantically and in any relationship!! honestly oikawa tooru is the template i would drop everything and marry him he is a precious petty idiot and i love him the most

Do you want children?

fjdslgkhsdlkfjlsd not right now !!!! i tend to not answer this question too directly because i have plenty of time to think about it and i don’t want to tie myself to any direction !!!

Have you gotten in trouble with the law?

lol no but i think after a quick scroll through my tumblr you could have guessed that 

What color socks are you wearing?

no socks !!! unless it’s winter and i’m freezing sleeping in socks is a crime >:( but earlier i was wearing pink and purple socks !

Bath or shower?

depends !! but i never feel clean after a bath and still end up showering, the bath is just for me to chill 

Favorite type of music?

hmmmm kpop, musical theatre, minecraft music LOL

How many pillows do you sleep with?

four !! SLFKJLDSGH lol

Which position do you sleep in?

depends !!! i used to sleep exclusively on my stomach but i’ve changed a bit and honestly any position is possible! but no matter what i am cuddling a pillow (with the other three piled around me) and probably holding my own hand LOL 

What don’t you like when you’re sleeping?

being cold :( i can deal with hot but being freezing is terrible !! i like to spread out but when you’re cold you have to like curl yourself up to preserve heat

What do you have for breakfast?

cold leftovers are the ideal breakfast <3 i used to like breakfast foods but most of them just make me nauseous now so i end up just eating leftovers or coffee/tea 

Have you ever tried archery?

like once? like literally did one shot. was not good 

Favorite fruit?

strawberries !!!! yum yum yum (after that probably mango)

Favorite swear word?

i don’t know that i have a favorite but i say fuck the most LOL

Do you have any scars?

yes !! i’m clumsy so i have many burn scars on my hands from cooking or curling my hair (the biggest one was very creatively named Mark by my bestie and beta reader @delayedimperfection). i also have several scars from my psycho/lovely cat on my arms and hands (and then i went in the sun after getting several of them and yeah they probably will never go away it’s fine)

Are you a good liar?

nope !!! especially if you know me i think my tells are just easy to pick up on!! i rarely win as imposter in among us :( tragic 

What’s your personality type?

infp-t!! i think that’s what this is asking

What’s your favorite type of girl?

all !!!! 

Left or right handed?

right !! my left hand is useless <33

Favorite food?

sushi !!!! it’s filling but a lot of food makes me nauseous nowadays and i never feel that way after eating sushi 

Are you clean or messy?

messy !!

Favorite foreign food?

well i guess sushi LOL but i am always down to try something new!

How long does it take for you to get ready?

depends on how greasy my hair is!! anywhere from five minutes to an hour-ish

Most used phrase?

lol probably “oh my gosh” and “oh my god.” i also say this phrase that’s like from a specific city but i honestly do not even know to spell it it’s like gibberish i don’t even know

**update (not that anyone was asking) but i did some research and the phrase is jeezle petes!! it’s not exclusive to the city i picked it up from but that one city is how i learned it :))

Are you a good singer?

lol i’d like to hope so !!! i did musical theatre for several years so if i’m terrible well whoops? lol

Do you sing to yourself?

of course !!! 

Biggest fear?

ummmm idk i am such a scaredy cat so i’d say most things spook me !! i guess i’d say abandonment as a serious answer and ghosts as a silly(ish) one 

Do you like long or short hair?

i generally like shorter hair (on myself and other people) but i mean different hairstyles suit different people !!

Are you into gossip?

idk i don’t like to speculate and i try to always give people the benefit of the doubt but !!! if it’s me and my mom in the car well then no fucking mercy 

Extrovert or introvert?

introvert !!!! if you message me first i’ll love you forever (also hence why i love extroverts, they balance me out !!)

Favorite school subject?

i love love love chemistry and any kind of science !!!! (definitely haven’t projected that into any of my fics no no no...)

What makes you nervous?

being in unfamiliar places !! i hate feeling lost or feeling like people can tell that i’m lost

Who was your first real crush?

fjdlsghsdlk idk... i have such a hard time expressing and processing romantic feelings that i’m not really sure that i’ve had one !!! my best guess is probably my best friend a few years ago but honestly i don’t really even think i had a crush, i was just trying to reciprocate how he felt SJLDGKJLSDGKH this is soooo personal anyways~~~~~

How many piercings do you have?

i used to have three in each ear but due to some unfortunate circumstances two (in each ear) grew in :( i plan to get them re-pierced soon though !!

How fast can you run?

GJLSDGHLDKF idk ????? i’d like to think i’m relatively fast because i have longer legs but honestly that’s such a lie i have to be in fear to really be fast LOL

What makes you angry?

hmmm!! tbh it takes a lot to make me mad, i’m pretty chill and usually i get sad/upset rather than actually angry! but the quickest way to make me mad is to like expect something from me and never communicate it!! i can’t read your fucking mind i’m the biggest people pleaser i know and would probably bend over backwards for you if you just told me GJSLDKFHL yes this is about a very specific set of instances <3333

Do you like your own name?

yeah, actually !! naomi is an alias, i chose it just for fun, but i like my irl name too :)

What are your weaknesses?

my crippling self doubt :’) also i’m so ticklish it isn’t funny. hmmmm i also tend to put other people’s needs before my own and then let them take advantage of that GHLSDKFJS it’s fine. AND i need everyone to like me all the time especially when they are mean to me (which makes me easy to manipulate unfortunately flsdkghdlskfj why am i giving out this info)

What are your strengths?

i think i give okay advice and i’m good at teaching other people things !!! i’ve also been told i’m very genuine and honest :)

What is the color of your bedspread?

grey !!

Color of your room?

lol grey, white, and then honestly just an assorted bunch of colors

this was fun !!! tagging @softbobamilktae, @moon-write​, and @jtrbluv !!!

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

Hey there, you made a post recently bashing one of mine. Totally fine to disagree but bashing other people's posts aren't the way to go about it. Both posts you were bashing were speculation and if you really had a problem with it, you could've left a comment to open up a real discussion about it on my post or the other person's.

I think you misread some of the tones in the posts. We were exploring political themes in a fictional universe. These sorts of things aren't for everyone and there's a wide variety of perspectives on the subjects. The other person's was, as I interpreted it, a "hey what if this happened" sort of post. Mine was a theory about the dynamics between species based on what we see in canon. I don't think either warranted the reaction it got from you, especially considering the fact we're talking about a cartoon. Perhaps they are darker interpretations but not impossible. No bold, declarative statements were made. No one was pushing their thoughts on others. Both were just people sharing their thoughts on possibilities we could not see in canon.

Again, it's okay to disagree. You, however, took it a step further. I deal with discourse on subjects more serious than a cartoon so I really don't care if you think there's something wrong with this but I'm getting the sense you are trying to start drama in the fandom which really isn't appreciated. This is generally a positive space and it's not hard to match the tone, even when you don't agree.

If you keep this up, I'll just block you so we don't see each others posts. Can't speak for the other person, of course, but they're a respected member of the fandom so I'm sure people would also appreciate it if you didn't go after them.

But I will ask two things of you. If you continue making posts like this, consider using a more respectful tone. I have no idea how other people you have bashed reacted but you are saying these things about real people, many of them likely minors. It's not hard to be courteous.

The other thing is to not use the delusional tag or call people insane. Maybe some people have some hot takes or discuss theories in a sphere a bit extreme for a cartoon but that does not mean it's okay for you to directly attack them. And, some of the words you used are ableist language. I am not disabled so I am not necessarily affected by it but a bar must be set and I'm setting it pretty low. You can continue what you're doing but do not disrespect people or use ableist language. Even if you don't care what I think, note that chances are people will not take you seriously if you sound like a child throwing a tantrum or speak like you're trying to hurt someone.

Even though I disagree with your tone, I will admit you weren't completely off target. You had some good points. And if you had brought them up in a respectful manner, I would have been happy to have a discussion about it. But, you didn't and here we are.

Where the hell do I even start with this?

Ok, first of all NO I'm not trying to start drama. I'm expressing my distaste on a trend I've seen in posts in the Ben 10 tag where this echo chamber perpetually spews out ridiculous baseless shit.

"A generally peaceful space" lmao, you mean like the time several users INSISTED Cracker isn't a slur and you can't be racist to white people, after a user called another one it while shamelessly and without irony claim they wouldn't stoop to bullying like @xcatxgirlx was wrongly accused of? Or the fact several users adamantly and insistently warp and twist her words to fit their delusional narrative where she's apparently the next spawn of Satan or whateverthefuck? Or the fact if you disagree with said echo chamber they'll call you bootlicker and say you have brainrot.

Also can you quit with the victim complex? I'm not going after anyone, I'm refuting claims and headcanons by pointing out no such thing is even remotely hinted at in canon.

Gods at this point I'm going to have to pin dictionary.com with how often I've had to quote people the definitions of words.

having false or unrealistic beliefs or opinions:

In other words ideas not based in reality or that can be gleaned from pertinent information. Reality in this case being the canon of the series.

Saying Ben wanted to kill Kevin because he was jealous of him saving the day in the Forge of Creation episode is FLAT OUT DELUSIONAL. Full stop.

Saying the Plumbers would practice brutality and gay bashing at the drop of a hat DURING PRIDE MONTH is utterly baseless and ridiculous, not to mention actively insensitive to irl acts of such. Their WHOLE THING is keeping the peace and anyone practicing police brutality would get jailed JUST LIKE THE NUMEROUS TIMES IN CANON THEY'VE DEALT WITH EVIL PLUMBERS.

Saying the Galvans are totally discriminating against a entire species is absolutely baseless especially when shit all is preventing said species from basically doing whatever the fuck they want. Baz-El is literally a damn archeologist after all.

You want to know what all those things have in common?

They take the flimsiest of "evidence", ignore context, and actively distort facts to shine things in the worst light possible, like a corrupted fun house mirrors from hell.

Also why would I ask for permission to document for posterity posts I reference? I'm literally only doing that shit so they can't say said posts didn't say what it did or if said posts are erased. It's no different from using the Way Back Machine to check on old posts.

Also also, like for future reference PLEASE add spaces to your posts. Your ask was honestly kind of hard to read.

[dustyard]

Do you have any tips or thoughts on how to differentiate between species that are all very similar behaviourally? I'm stuck between Amur leopards, cougars & bobcats and am having trouble narrowing them down further. Thank you!

Somehow this turned into an infodump on felid social behaviors, so... you're welcome?This may or may not be helpful, but I did get to dig up some of the pdf's I have saved on feline behavior, so tbh I'm having a good evening.

A real quick dislaimer, amur leopards are a critically endangered subspecies, and as such, a lot of our information on them is going to be flawed due to their tiny subject pool, as well as the fact that they live alongside several other subspecies (I believe it's five, currently) that also reside in the same general region and could potentially be contaminating research on them. I'm not saying this to put you off of them as a form to look into, but rather to be realistic in our understanding of them, knowing that the information we currently have could be flawed or incomplete.

Let's begin with their social differences.

Amur leopards: What do we know? When it comes to territory, all three of these big cats overlap territories to some degree. Amur leopards do it the least, with females and males overlapping territory (females moreso), as well as same-sex individuals also overlapping territories (so males overlapping with males, females overlapping with females, as well as opposite-sex overlaps, though males are far less likely to overlap with one another). However, the amount of territory overlap is smaller than with the other two cat species. There is also evidence that amur leopards will overlap territory with leopards they're related to, especially mothers with daughters. Something to keep in mind with leopards is that they tend to be heavily influenced by the prey availabilty and ecological conditions of the habitat they find themselves in; Indian leopards, for example, will live in much closer contact with one another, with greater territory overlap when there is abundant prey, and multiple leopards can feed themselves without conflict. It has been suggested through camera-traps that this characteristic is also true of amur leopards.

How we interpret this? Amur leopards are less prone to socialization than cougars or bobcats. They need more space, and they get more defensive over having their boundaries crossed. However, they are capable of tolerating others and sharing resources to a degree, and they may like having people they've bonded closely with (like family or romantic partners) close by (metaphorically or literally). Still, they tend to keep people at arm's length. I read this as amur leopards being people who can be sentimental and tolerant, but are overall pretty socially awkward, and not very socially tolerant. They aren't good at maintaining relationships, and they prefer people they can vibe with from a distance, be it emotional or physical. They aren't much for close intimacy, and tend to keep even the people they care about at a distance.

However (and this paragraph is my personal guesswork, so feel free to ignore it), it's been documented that leopards will mate with the same partners for years, spending days to weeks together, sharing kills, grooming one another, and just enjoying their company outside of copulation. There have also been documented instances of unrelated leopards sharing kills together (typically adult females with younger males). So, I personally read these cats as being mostly solitary (and usually actively avoiding other leopards), but they can and do form consistent bonds, they just usually need a good reason to actually come together. Their fondness might read as cool and detached to people not-in-the-know, but I think it likely that they still form bonds and have one or two people they care about, even if they aren't big on showing it.

Cougars: what do we know? Cougars often form territories with one male who overlaps with several females, those several females also typically overlapping (kind of like a multiple-circle venn diagram). Individuals still need large amounts of space, and are rigorous about keeping their boundaries. Cougars actually do form relationships outside of mating and family; unrelating cougars (both males and females) will make "friends" with their neighbors. They will share prey, as well as just hang out. These relationships are based heavily on reciprocity, so if cougar A shares a meal with cougar B, extending the friendship olive branch, and cougar B later refuses to share food and be polite, the relationship will likely not survive (males, however, can get away with sharing less with females than vice versa).

How do we interpret this? Cougars are definitely introverts who are defensive about boundaries and need a huge amount of space and independence, but they do like having a few close, mutually-beneficial ties. Cougars are extremely private and often shy, but they will go out of their way for the people that will do the same. However, being fundamentally selfish, cougars don't tolerate being taken advantage of. They can be extremely fickle in their relationships, as if they aren't getting what they want out of a relationship, they can and will drop it entirely. Cougars are also not especially social; outside of their couple of close ties, they do not like or want social interaction. These people will be surprisingly soft and fond of a select few, and have pretty much no time or attention for anyone else.

Bobcats: what do we know? Bobcats tend to overlap territories more than cougars or leopards, but are still quite defensive of their territories. Interestingly, males are surprisingly tolerant of other males overlapping their territories, which is very unusual for felids, while females tend to be less tolerant of other females on their territory. It has been suggested that bobcats don't reproduce until they've established an exclusive territory (male and female alike), and bobcats also tend to be very consistent with their territory ranges, rarely moving or shifting their boundaries. Bobcats have also exhibited polygynous behaviors, suggesting further that bobcats actually form long-term ties with their neighbors/mates. However, outside of breeding (and females raising kittens) bobcats are usually alone.

How do we interpret this? Bobcats are relatively tolerant, conflict-avoidant people who nonetheless need a lot of space and get very defensive when their boundaries are crossed. However, they have a surprising amount of fidelity to their territories and partners, which suggests that bobcats do have some close ties that they cultivate, but they don't need or want constant attention or involvement from the people/person they care about. I read them as being relatively chill people unless you get on their nerves or cross too many boundaries, and are mostly loose-bonding with one or two relationships that they're loyal to long-term, though they may appear to be rather detached to an outside observer.

So how do they all compare? I would say that amur leopards are the more detached and aloof, generally not wanting or needing close ties. Bobcats are more tolerant, socially, but they also tend to be very loose-bonding and disinterested in social interaction, though they may cultivate a special relationship or two. Cougars have a few close ties that they are quite attached to, but outside of these relationships are very asocial. I would say bobcats and amur leopards are actually the most similar. The general vibe difference that I get is that amur leopards are more stoic and cold, while bobcats are more superficially chill and even reasonably friendly (I also tend to think of bobcats as more socially confident with strangers than amur leopards or cougars). Bobcats tend to live in closer proximity to humans than either cougars or amur leopards, and I can say from experience they're pretty wily and unafraid for an animal that is really not that big. They also regularly hunt and kill deer, which are significantly bigger than them, so these guys are not afraid of a challenge. Comparatively, cougars and amur leopards are more shy and are conflict-adverse in a different way, if that makes sense. Bobcats will get into your barn and growl at you like a douche, but they don't like interpersonal conflict. Cougars and amur leopards really try to avoid people, so I would say they're less tolerant of... I want to call it interruptions of their daily life expectations.

My dæmon is actually settled as a cougar, and my two cents on the form is this: we're kind of boring, as people go. I can be pretty rigid and selfish, and unreasonably private, even with the (~3) people I have close ties to. I don't like taking unnecessary risks, and I'm kind of a social wet blanket. I'm also definitely weird about needing relationships to be reciprocal. I have dropped friends, family members, and partners from my life entirely, and immediately, because I felt taken advantage of/wasn't getting what I wanted from the relationship. It's actually like, kind of a problem. I don't really do the whole "selfless love" thing. Some suggestions if you're looking at felid forms and like cougars are also cheetahs and tigers, as they have somewhat similar social bonds despite their extreme introversion.

I don't know you, obviously, so a lot of this is going to do with your own personal introspection. These three forms are very similar, but they give off different vibes, and they do have differences. Are you more outwardly chill and maybe even playful but inwardly private type? Bobcat. Are you generally very aloof and socially awkward, even if you do have a close relationship? Amur leopard. Do you mostly fit the introvert-asocial category except for a few close relationships that tend to be very reciprocal in nature? Cougar. I would think also about they types of prey they hunt (size and difficulty can reflect risk-reward assessment, aka what types of challenges you're willing to take on in your life), more about their relationships with humans, other predators in the same ranges as them, etc. The best advice with super similar forms like these are looking at small details and specifics, as well as how they're recieved. You can also ask people who know you what they think; you'd be surprised by the observations you get.

[sobdasha]

i’ve been rereading a lot of my favorite stuff for months now

since I'm lacking in spoons for library trips

And when I was cottoning on to the fact that I have, in fact, been autistic all along, one of the things I realized is that the connecting thread between the kinds of stories and kinds of characters that I like is in fact that they display autistic or autistic-adjacent traits. I had realized this, come up with a lot of examples. I knew this.

Haha yeah as I'm actually rereading the things the evidence is damning that I did not come even close to understanding the full depth of it.

~ Taucris Ithesta is Autistic and Other Adjacent Things re: Leckie's Novels ~

Actually let's start with The Raven Tower because you can't actually argue with me about autistic Siat.

Siat actively avoids eye contact, is """shy""", speaks too softly, has an excellent grasp of humor, likes rocks as a special interest, likes to collect rocks, likes to sort rocks, likes to line up rocks, has one (1) bff to conduct social interactions for her, notices patterns, is good at learning, and is considered disabled by society's standards.

Ughhhhh all that talk about rocks makes me sad all over again that I pitched my rock collection when I moved out (I saved the best fossils, though).

(ETA: I have since bought more rocks because polished gemstones with carvings on them make for great stims, I am very pleased with me)

Okay so now that that's been established, let's talk about Strength and Patience of the Hill.

Because this rock gets me. Originally I figured it was probably, y'know, like with Ancillary Justice Leckie's given me an ace-aro main character and I can identify with that as an ace-aro. But unlike Breq, who very much loves people and wants to take care of them and found family etc, Strength and Patience of the Hill doesn't give much of a shit about people. With some exceptions of people that are it's people, how dare you mess with them, Strength and Patience of the Hill will kick your ass. Although even then I'm not sure Strength and Patience is all that great at taking care of people. Also Strength and Patience of the Hill is very much absorbed in its own selfishness, very much consumed with his own internal world, and I am also a jerk like that so it was very relatable.

(Yes I am using multiple pronouns because one of my many favorite parts of the book signing was watching everyone scramble over pronouns for a rock because "It never came up so I never figured it out" and I'm pretty sure Strength and Patience doesn't even use pronouns because why would you need a gendered pronoun to refer to yourself??? You don't even need a name to refer to yourself, actually I'm pretty sure Strength and Patience doesn't actually consider itself to have a name.)

So it made sense that this rock just really gets me. I know it's bad when the majority of representation for ace-aro characters is stereotypical robots or rocks or aliens (oooh or sentient space rocks wait wAIT now that I've said that I've just realized the Myriad is the definition of a Crystal Gem, pffft) or whatever but honestly I don't care because I just really identify with the robots??? So I really liked it, YMMV.

(It's probably also bad if the trend for autistically-coded characters is just stereotypical robots or rocks or aliens or whatever too but like honestly a big autistic #mood is feeling like you are a robot or an alien or whatever so maybe that's why I'm not offended???)

My point being that Strength and Patience of the Hill displays a lot of autistic traits and is therefore very relatable, in this Ted Talk I will.

Strength and Patience of the Hill processes things slowly. She will come up with the perfect retort and tell you 5 years later with absolutely no context.

It loves daydreaming, staring at things, noticing patterns, and enjoying quiet and solitude. It loves thinking about why things are the way they are. Look I have fantasized about what if I could exist as just a pair of eyeballs and a mind floating around in space, observing things, thinking things, and not having to actually interact with the world, and I'm pretty sure this rock is living that life. (Until y'know it gets told life doesn't work like that.)

Despite his slow processing speed, and taking a while to learn language, Strength and Patience of the Hill is good at learning things, and I feel like it's the kind of sort-of-sideways, context-based accumulation of knowledge that I learn through as well.

Strength and Patience of the Hill has one (1) friend, and through the Myriad it benefits from the fact that the Myriad has an actual social circle, without having to put forth any effort of maintaining friends on its own, which is 100% the way to do it.

Strength and Patience of the Hill tends to attract the other "quirky" kids--that is, my impression is that the people who become his priests tend to be those people who look at the world a little differently, those people on the fringes. Trans people, autistic people, people with other disabilities.

Strength and Patience of the Hill trying to explain the state of affairs in Vastai to Eolo: "Okay so my first memory I can recall is…" No, okay, no, I know, it's just literally how the narrative has to be told, I'm not criticizing, but that doesn't make it any less reminiscent of "autistic person trying to explain a simple thing but starts in with 10 pages of context first to ensure the over-explanation makes sense" (haha that's why I consistently got stuck training endless new hires, I'm literally so bad at it that I'm the best in the department and I hate life).

Difficulty understanding other's feelings/points of view/circumstances (I know it's because he's a rock and a god but that doesn't make it any less relatable), hmmm what else…

Oh right, a typical interaction with Strength and Patience of the Hill:

Person: (gives offering) Strength and Patience: (offering is accepted because the transaction literally occurred, no need to respond) Person: "(asks petition)" Strength and Patience: ... Strength and Patience: wait Strength and Patience: what Strength and Patience: wait was I supposed to do something else Strength and Patience: did you ask something of me? Strength and Patience: I don't understand what you asked????? Strength and Patience: it's been an entire year now it's too awkward Strength and Patience: i'm sure it's. Fine. Strength and Patience: It's fine. (rinse and repeat)

Like I said, this rock gets me.

(Haha I was reading through my notes from the book signing and I found "Strength + Patience doesn't give a shit about balance, Strength + Patience is just selfish, which it manifests as apathy, which is why this rock gets me. All of my best interpersonal traits also spring from not giving a fuck and waiting ppl to go away faster lol" and why is that, oh because ~I'm~ ~autistic~ pfffft)

I started this post a while ago and this was as far as I got and I don't remember if I had more??? Time to talk about Taucris probably!!!

(I'm skipping Ancillary Justice etc for now because I do want to make a post about that but like there's just. So much. In those books. It's masking all the way down. So it can be its own post. One day.)

Because I waited so long I forgot what I was going to write so I'll just grab the book and flip through and comment as I see things.

To start off with: Taucris and adulthood. I've seen other people pick up primarily on the gender aspect of it--that Taucris waited until almost 25 to take her adult name because she she never figured out what her gender was (non- uhhhhhh what's the word for binary when it's three and not two? Non-tri-something Taucris in a society with 3 options but all 3 options are gendered? I'll go with that.) What really resonated for me was that Taucris waited until almost 25 to take her adult name because she never felt like an adult. And I get that ~everyone feels that way~ but I feel like it's Different for Taucris in the same way it's Different for me. Anyway I feel like no matter which aspect you choose, it's probably an autistic vibe.

Also Taucris seems to have a bit of a flat affect? She seems very serious (both in body language and in speech), and kind of intense sometimes when she talks, and Ingray notes how Taucris usually doesn't smile (she smiles with Ingray because Ingray makes her comfortable) and has always been """shy""".

Also Taucris...talks strangely? I am not sure exactly how to explain it. It's not written badly or anything, it's...you know how sometimes you suddenly sit back and look at dialogue and go no one speaks like this and it throws you out of the story because you dropped your suspension of disbelief? Taucris kind of gives me that feeling, and only Taucris. Almost like her speech is a little bit stilted? Awkward? She's very serious and matter of fact and says things like "You've always been so kind to me" with a straight face. But it doesn't feel like a """bad writing""" (quotation marks for subjectivity) thing. But I notice it every time I read her dialogue… I think it's just that Taucris is autistic and awkward and that's how she speaks. Also I think she's adorable.

Police work is Taucris' special interest. So much so that that's the entire reason she became an adult, so she could engage in her special interest better. She's ~weird~ for her single-minded interest and her interest in a job below her ~status~ and she doesn't care, she set her heart on this anyway, volunteering and interning so on.

Oh that was something else I was going to talk about--Taucris mentions feeling like she doesn't have her shit together, not like Ingray (who also doesn't feel she has her shit together. Kind of like "no one really feels like an adult). But Taucris seems quite calm and capable in Planetary Security. I don't know if this is just masking, but...I really hope that she does feel that way in her job. That because it's her special interest, that helps balance out the stress of being alive and simultaneously employed full-time. That because she's been volunteering and interning here so long, she's been familiar with the office and it wasn't a stressful transition. That she acts confident because she feels competent and respected. Taucris may look calm and cool and collected on the outside and be screaming on the inside but I hope she actually feels pretty good on the inside too.

I would also like to say that I like Taucris' nother. Despite what Danach implies, I get the picture from Taucris that e is supportive of Taucris' personality and interests even when e doesn't get it. E indulged her interest in police work, e didn't understand why Taucris wasn't taking an adult name but tried to be patient about it...so I assume that also means that e was understanding of all of Taucris quirks and stims and particularities. E's been a good support system while Taucris' peers have not.

(Except for Ingray, Taucris' one (1) friend.)

I like Taucris' relationship with Deputy Chief Veret too--the way Taucris quietly manages breakfast so e doesn't have to think about it or be put out (this is The Love Language to me, not being inconvenienced, and I feel that this is part of my personality because my personality is autistic, so). I don't know why specifically Taucris does this, but all the reasons I could come up with feel very wholesome. Taucris respects Veret as her boss and as a person. Taucris is empathetic and thoughtful (she doesn't like Danach but she tries to consider and understand where he's coming from; Taucris isn't Hatli but she considers Veret's fasting etc to be valid rather than a choice of superstition). Taucris' situation is different but she knows that it doesn't feel good to be treated as weird, to be sneered at because you don't act the way people expect you to. Taucris, being autistic, maybe has a lot of experience with "perfectly good foods" she won't eat. Taucris strikes me as someone who observes quietly, and considers carefully, and maybe takes a long time to make up her mind but when she moves it's deliberately and not carelessly. Which is, to me, a masking trait.

In the quantum version of this post I was going to write everything so polished and lay out my points so nicely but clearly that didn't happen and I don't know where to end this and I'm sure I didn't even explain things that well so I'll just say, I feel it was very autistic of Taucris in the last chapter to just be like "well IDK what you want from me and rather than expending massive effort trying to suss it out and guessing wrong I'll just be direct: I know you can't talk about what happened so I won't ask you about what happened unless you want me to ask you about what happened in which case you should say so and I will ask but I think maybe you just need to watch a movie with me instead."