#hopefully this makes sense i am Very tired

[dawnshe]

because i finally have an idea on what i want to do with it, have vex’s campaign two / tombtaker verse :

upon fleeing syngorn and discovering the fate of their mother, vex and vax decided it was time for to start completely fresh and headed to wildemount, particularly finding themselves returning to shadycreek run, but wandering to and fro as they pleased. there they several times completed jobs with locals, though neither of the twins joined, vax being engaged in secretive missions with the myriad leaving vex’s curiosities to roam when her brother was away on day mission.

more often than not, vex would aid her brother on his tasks, hoping to avoid the very instance that happened before her eyes, one day on their travels back to shadycreek run, her twin brother was slaughtered before her eyes, using his last breath to tell his sister to run.

in desperation to be surrounded by people, vex was quick to ally herself with some familiar faces and joining some memeber of the claret order on the occasional mission, including one to rexxentrum and in time, to aeor.

the idea and possibility of getting her brother back was something she was so set on, vex’ahlia is quick to follow along with the tombtakers and lucien, obtaining five eyes herself before derogna’s failed ritual ( one on her right palm, one on her left wrist, one on each of her shoulders, and a final on the spot where her neck meets her back ). it isn’t till after the ritual fails that vex finally wakes up to how naieve and wrong what she was planning on following through with was and promptly goes about trying her best to avoid other members of the tombtakers to try and combat her grief for lucien and properly grieve her twin.

upon / if encountering a member of the mighty nein she is going to not say shit about any marks so if they catch a red eye grill her about it and be prepared for her to try and cover her tracks until she literally can’t

whether or not vex returns to the tombtaker’s side to finish their quest truly is a gamble but if she does it’s not without a heavy heart and much hesitation.

within this verse, vex is a ranger, bloodhunter ( ghost slayer ), paladin ( ‘oath of the ancient’s’ that i’m calling oath of the dreamer but she becomes an oath breaker ) have a character sheet :)

[metaldragoon]

hello! i love your gifs. how do you make them look so good? what settings do you use in photoshop? i'm a beginner when it comes to gifs and i could use some help!

How 'bout go fuck yaself, huh?!

Just kidding. Hello! Thank you for the message, I am easily swayed to do anything in the name of praise. Before I get started, although by the time you've read this I've already finished, feel free to IM me and I would be happy to very finely detail explicitly how I do things for anyone with the nose for knowledge in GIF making.

The first and most important thing is to capture whatever you can in as high as quality it comes in. 720p? Don't even waste my time. So anyways, you've got your crispy beautiful animation imported, it's time to resize it.

The two important things are to go slightly over the final canvas size you want (500px wide) and to adjust the resample to Bicubic Sharper (or Bicubic, I don't notice any difference). I'm sure it's not universally the best option to use Bicubic Sharper but I've never bothered double checking. Then adjust the canvas size, knock off at least 2 pixels to trim a pixel from the top, bottom, and sides of the GIF. Since GIFs are binary with their transparency, when you resize it the edges can get ugly-looking as some pixels are 100% opacity and some are 0% opacity, that's why I crop that extra pixel from each side. I happen to be using a pretty poor example with my Slam Dunk GIF I'm making since it's not a standard 16:9 ratio, so mine will actually be cropped to 500x268 instead of a standard 500x280. If you're working on something that's 4:3 which is like old school anime style, crop it before adjusting the image size so it's 1440x1080, then resize it and it should be 502x377, to which you would then crop it to 500x375. I actually often crop even wide screen things to a 4:3 ratio because it's usually just unnecessary space on the sides and it makes our focal point pop more!

This is less relevant with digital animation, it's much cleaner and doesn't have as much noise, but if we're in our hand-drawn era, frames be shakin' and grainy! We only have 256 colours so any non-vital frames should be removed so they're not hogging up our sharp colours. I have quite a small GIF here, 36 frames is no big deal, so the quality won't be necessarily important, but if you're doing something that's 200 frames it'll definitely losing a bit of colour and wasting a tonne of space.

Again, a tiny 36 frame gif isn't the best, but by picking out shaky frames or ones that have blips you can see a bit of a contrast difference specifically in the clouds in this example thanks to having those extra colours, and the start of the GIF doesn't shake as much. The first GIF is also twice the size (1.92 MB vs 954 KB) which means I could make a GIF twice as long with doing this before worrying about size issues. This is what my final timeline looks like:

Beyond that, I wouldn't really do anything. I specifically adjusted each frame to match the original speed just so they would sync up the same for my comparison but normally I would have just re-timed every frame to be 0.12 seconds and adjust it using my own personal eye test to see if I think anything needs to be sped up or can be cut out even further.

You can also add some overlay adjustments if you want, depending on the show I'll bother with that but usually it affects the quality, but dark scenes can sometimes need it. The only four I ever touch are brightness/contract, vibrance, hue/saturation, and colour balance. I don't have any specific numbers I use, I just slide them around until I'm happy with the result. Ultimately, I like to just keep shows as they were originally because my main goal is archival of things I like, but it can be nice to add some pop with brighter colours on shows with a dull palette. But yeah, feel free to message me in IM if you want more help. I'll help with a specific GIF so what I've said is maybe a little easier to understand how to apply things. There's lots of more other things you can do if you are more dedicated like blurs and sharpens but I don't really bother with that anymore.

[inkykeiji]

at this point no one is safe from the todoroki men lmao even shouto whose a lil bit 'nicer' is still a todoroki >.<

exactly, anon, exactly. shouto is the lesser of three evils LMAO. shouto will treat you the best out of the three, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll treat you well.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[sunrisetune]

[ID: Digital painting of an unsettling horse-like creature peering around a large boat. The creature is seen from its shoulders up. Instead of fur it has pale grey-pink skin, like exposed muscle; and tattered fins in place of a horse's mane. A matching pair of fins appear on the upper sides of its face, at the back of its jaw. Three large gills open on the side of its neck. It has large, paler scar-like markings around its eyes, in the shape of three-pronged stars. It's eyes themselves are a glassy white.

The boat beside the creature is large and rusted, rising out of view. An equally rusty anchor chain trails down. and off-screen. The ocean reflects the sky in the background, both a stormy grey.

/End ID].

fish horse

[musedriven]

HC; i don't think it's much of a hc per-say considering i'm pretty sure it was stated as canon in vigilanties but I feel like writing about it rn and how it affects my mic. when mic's quirk is taken from him be it by erasure or some other quirk neutralizer, he cannot speak at all. his quirk is so tied to his vocals that he physically looses the ability to talk at all. he hates this feeling. he has always hated this feeling but he would never ever tell aizawa that. when he was younger he didn't wanna make Aizawa feel bad about his quirk and wanted an excuse to keep training / interacting with him. then as he grew older, he still doesn't wanna explain just how much he loathes the feeling because he'd thinks it would be too awkward to bring up now. specially when it's still pretty important to him to continue to spar / talk with aizawa more often now that they are both pro heroes. in order to make things look like they're fine.

Mic did learn sign language to communicate when his voice was out of use or if he got himself neutralized for any reason. he also learned it as a preemptive in case he ever damaged his voice or got neutralized out on the field. he wanted a way to still be able to properly convey himself. he doesn't talk about how he learned it or how he practices it daily; he doesn't want to worry anyone. and it's not something he actively uses or demonstrates for the most part. but if needed, he has no trouble translating for someone.

[passerinesoncaffeine]

finally beating writer’s block and all it took was a desperate attempt to distract myself from the consequences of exhaustion

[luvly-writer]

You should be (afraid)

Batfamily x Neglected! Reader

Author's note: This IS the last chapter, damn....Thank God, the next one shot is one I am excited for but babes that gonna have to wat till tomorrow. Imagine Y/n's clothes like this and this but instead of red, it is green. ( yes im an ATLA fan and yes it its inspired by Azula)

Warnings: Language?

Part 1 // Part 2

---

You double-checked your hair as you looked in the mirror. The day had come when you would only be known as Y/n Al Ghul, heir to the Demon Head and future Leader of the League of Assassins. It was difficult to grasp if you were quite honest. Per your request, the League had changed headquarters. Nanda Parbat was no longer safe so you had advised of getting one of the old abandoned cities of the League and turning the temple into headquarters with the rest of the city becoming a safe place for all of the servants and assassins. It was surrounded by water and walls with constant surveillance, meaning that no one could get in or out without people knowing. You were never going to forget the day that you came back, the surprise on your grandfather's face as you got to your knees and pledged allegiance to the League. He wasn't convinced at first but came around as you solidified your loyalty. You were no longer a Wayne like Damian. You were an Al Ghul

// "Leave us." Ras's voice carried out across the room. Your mother looked at you and gave you a reassuring nod before she left. As the room emptied, you were starting to feel nervous. Was this the right decision or were you too impulsive? "Explain to me, once again, child. Why are you here?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. You summon all of the courage you had in your body and stand up. "I came to reclaim my birthright as the rightful heir to the Demon Head," I said, trying my best to keep my voice steady. "Is that so? Why the change of heart?" I hesitated to answer and he saw right through me. His knowing smirk gave it away. "Tired of being part of the birds and the Bats it seems. It is very curious how only one came back. You and your brother were inseparable. Should I expect a visit from him as well? To rescue his sis-" "No." I interrupted him and he seemed taken back "No?" "I was never part of their…team. My brother formed great loyalty and attachment to them, but I did not. They…" "Go on" "They rejected me the day I arrived, yet accepted my brother. I have been forgotten, ignored, and cast aside from the moment that I became present in that household. I only hold care for one of them and even he wasn't enough to make me stay." Ras stayed quiet for a moment. "So what my daughter has been telling me is correct after all. It wasn't just that she missed you. Well, then. Let me make you a proposition. You have three months to make me believe you are capable of being my heir. If you succeed, you will begin training solely for the purpose of being my successor. Were you to not prove yourself, you would leave at once. Have I made myself clear, child?" Ras never was one for empty threats and promises, so all she could do was nod. "You are dismissed. Tell your mother to meet me here. We have a few things to discuss" he dismissed you, "Oh and child?" You looked towards him hopefully. "It is good one of you came back to your senses. Don't disappoint me" And thus began the most excruciating three months of your life. //

You were surprised at how well you had adjusted to the League after coming back. Sure, those three months were harsh, but they weren't bad. You were thankful that you picked up a demanding sport such as ice skating. You weren't sure how you'd survive otherwise. Your mother would spar with you any time she visited so your skills weren't too rusty. After sharpening what had been there once again, which had taken you a month and a half, you were able to take assassins from the highest of ranks. Once your grandfather was satisfied, thus began your preparation for a leader. You were a natural. Your role was to follow your grandfather, grant him counsel, and even take part in some of the decision-making processes. Once, your grandfather had even gotten close to saying he was proud. Even went to say (in between the lines of course) that you had been able to surpass your brother in preparation. Since then, you understood that you no longer lived in Damian's shadow. A year had passed soon and your grandfather had announced that we would have a special coronation where you would be proclaimed as Heir.

That brought us here, to your coronation day. Your armor was specifically made to tailor you and your comfort for battle. Your hair, which had gotten quite long, was pulled into an intricate braid so that your face would be visible. You felt strong and that brought a smile to your face.

"You look radiant, my dear" you hear your mother say from behind you. "Thank you, Mother" You responded as she stood in front of you and caressed your face tenderly.

"Ma'am, you have some visitors" A voice was heard from outside the door. One of your assistants went to open the door and lo and behold…your family was there.

They entered slowly, one by one. Each suited up. "Beloved, those are not ceremonial robes" your mother reprimanded Damian, but he wasn't focused on her. He was focused on you.

"So, it is true then, sister," Damian asked feeling the air leave his chest. You were there, but it wasn't you. It couldn't be you. You were soft, kind, gentle, and tame, and you never raised your voice, you were you and this wasn't you. You looked stronger that's for sure. He wouldn't be surprised if their grandfather was injecting something into you. You looked like a member, no, scratch that, you looked like the heir. From the way you stood, with a sight upward til in your head, to the way you dressed. There was a sharpness in your eyes that told him that Ras had not been soft in your teachings.

"What is, Robin," you asked steadily. Gone was the girl who cried over her lost brother. Damian wouldn't admit it but he was hurt. Hearing you call him by his alias so coldly stung in ways he couldn't imagine.

"You truly are becoming the next Head of the Demon, Y/n?" This time the question came from Dick. The last months have been hell for all of them after the shock of your departure. It was as if someone had splashed all of them with a bucket of cold water and brought them back to reality. They had all visited your room at least once, would continually watch your ice skating videos, and would look at footage of you in the manor from the last years. They had desperately searched for a semblance of you in the entirety of the manor.

"Yes. What's it to you, Nightwing?" She responded once again coldly.

"Alfred misses you," It was Jason who spoke up this time. It was jarring to see the girl he once treated as his precious princess following the footsteps of someone so wretched.

"At least someone does. I couldn't visit because of my training. Once the ceremony is finalized, I will have more time and I will visit him" "So you will visit us at the manor-" "I will visit Alfred only. I have no other reason to do so," She interrupted Tim, with a heated gaze.

"What about your dreams of becoming a professional, (nickname)? It was all you ever wanted, you worked so hard for that. We all know, we all saw. This is not wh-"

"What do you know of me, Damian? What do any of you know about me?! We both arrived at the same. Time. And it appeared as if only you were there! Everyone favored you over me and why? Because you were fucking Robin and I wasn't? I tried to reach out. I invited you everywhere, I searched for you all everywhere, I asked and asked and the only thing that I ever received in return was disdain and silence. I only wanted to be loved, LOVED DAMIAN! What you got and I didn't! And if I tried to speak out, I was hushed because I had to be understanding of your processes. I WAS A CHILD HONED AS A WEAPON TOO. I went through everything you did too! And did any of you ever recognize that? NO! You stopped knowing me the moment you forgot you had a twin. You stopped knowing me when I came back and all of you were celebrating OUR birthday as if it was only you. You lost me the moment that you preferred seeing Jon over watching me compete at Nationals. You lost me when you left to see the Titans and I had to find out weeks later. You lost me when you decided that the love they gave you was yours alone and that I didn't deserve a fraction of it." She ranted and with her every word, Damian took a step back.

"You were always out training or with your friends-"

"Don't try to pin this on me, Damian Wayne. You all pushed me away." Y/n scoffed. "I invited you here because you are my mother's son. Not because I wanted you here. They were invited cordially because they are your family. Don't mistake my act of respect as an act of love."

"There are other ways, Y/n" Batman tried to intervene. Even if it didn't show, Bruce was hurting. He was deeply ashamed and disappointed at how things had turned out.

A bell sounded, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. Y/n straightened her back and turned towards her mother, a small smile present in her face. That smile, as much as it softened everyone's hearts, hardened the moment she turned to them,

"Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Red Robin, I will only say this once. I lack the care and mercy my grandfather and mother seem to have for you, with the small exception of Alfred and my brother. I will take this mantle. I will become the Heir to the Demon Head and I will be the next Leader of the League of Assassins. Those are facts that you will have to deal with. If you are here to cause a commotion, then I suggest you leave. I will not tell my assassins to hold back on their ways. If you'd like to stay, so be it. Enjoy the festivity. Have it very clear. I want all of you out. Of. My. Way. once I am the head. This is my birthright and I want it to have nothing with all of you." She started looking at Batman dead in the eye. "Nothing."

"My lady, everyone is expecting you" Came a voice from outside.

"Well, then. Let's go dear. You wouldn't want to have your grandfather waiting would you? Destiny awaits" said Talia as she ushered Y/n out of the room. She never spared a glance at the five men standing in front of her.

That day, they all watched from the sidelines as their sister was proclaimed Heir. Damian had failed and he was going to make sure he NEVER failed again. He was going to do everything in his power to fix the bridges that had been burnt with his sister. As much as Bruce wanted to reassure Damian that everything would be okay, he couldn't. It became clear to him that from now on when interacting with the League, they had to be extremely careful because his daughter could easily become as much an ally as she could be a formidable opponent. He never thought he'd say it but he was afraid of what his little girl could become.

---

Author's note: YES!!! I FINISHED IN ONE NIGHT!!! YESSSSS LAWRD!!!! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK!! I WOULD LOVE LOVE LOVE TO HEAR WHAT YOU ALL SAY!! LIKE AND REPOST! BESITOSSS!!

[accirax]

What a fun idea! As a fan of DRDT, Milgram, FF's work, and mystery solving in general, I feel like it'd be a shame if I didn't at least try to take a first stab at whatever's going on with these kooky Ultimate prisoners. (But not THE Ultimate Prisoner, that title's taken.)

Of course, since only Undercover has been published thus far, 1) we only have a brief overview of each prisoner to look at, and 2) I don't want to spend a ton of time crafting some crazy theory about each prisoner when there'll clearly be more information to be had down the line (assuming you continue on with this fan project). So, I'll try to keep each prisoner's section brief, while also concocting an initial theory of what might have gone down in each crime. (Update after finishing writing: it is not that brief. I got too invested down the line. Help /j)

The formatting of this is really just going to be my thought process written out, so I apologize if any of it is obvious and therefore boring to read. A lot of it is just going to be me gathering all of the information we have on each prisoner so that I can look at all of it at once. Also, I am fully willing to believe that I am basically 100% wrong about everything. I wrote out what I genuinely think could be true at the moment, but it involves making a lot of calls on things we don't have evidence for. I look forward to being proven wrong on many counts.

In some places, I also summarized things using my own interpretations of the evidence we have instead of being fully objective. This is meant to help anyone reading quickly understand my opinions on the evidence, but if you're trying to refer to this for the sake of your own interpretation, know that the information presented is not always 100% literal.

Oh woah, there are now Voice Reveal Lines too. I'll add those in here. Damn you FF and your speedy content generation!! (/j)

This AU does differ from Milgram in that these characters come from an external piece of media, and thus, some lore and characterization will come from DRDT itself. I didn't write any of it out in, like, a "backstory" section, but I certainly brought it up for pretty much every prisoner. So, unmarked DRDT spoilers ahoy. Also, CW for mentions of suicide, self harm, and eating disorders.

I'm super excited to take a closer look into all of the hard work that's gone into this project thus far!

PRISONER 01: Levi Fontana

Trial 1 Song Title: Torn Stitches Crime Location: Alleyway Special Image: Levi sits slumped over in a kitchen/dining room(?) with a boiling pot of tea in the foreground Murder Method: Levi punches Es with brass knuckles, knocking them to the floor Voice Reveal: "Levi Fontana, a pleasure. Yes, I am a murderer. I couldn't bring myself to pretend to be sorry for what I did. I suppose I should watch other prisoners to learn how normal prisoners should handle themselves. ...I know you didn't want this, but it had to be done."

Well, the murder method is pretty easy to understand in this one. Levi uses brass knuckles, his custom weapon in DRDT, to kill someone in an alleyway. Can we call him a murderer without remorse for this one...?

Torn Stitches imply sewing, which makes sense with his eventual passion for fashion, as well as redoing something you did wrong the first time. They could also have to do with opening up a painful wound (medical stitches) or something growing too big for its capacity (no longer fitting into your clothes). I'm almost a fan of the latter, given with how it would combine with the imagery of the boiling tea pot. That, to me, is a metaphor for a situation growing hotter and hotter until it reaches its boiling point, all while making an overbearing and overwhelming environment in the meantime.

From canon DRDT, we know that Levi estranged himself from his family. So, in this AU, I would guess that Levi snapped and killed (a member of) his family under the pressure. Maybe they'd even coerced him into murdering prior to that, who knows. But, either way, he doesn't seem to regret his choices just yet.

PRISONER 02: Arturo Giles

Trial 1 Song Title: Wilted Crime Location: Bathroom Special Image: Arturo appears to be messily packing a suitcase, considering a white turtleneck shirt Murder Method: Arturo kneels facing away from Es, who is on the ground in an uncomfortable position Voice Reveal: "Arturo Giles. Ugh, do I really have to be judged by someone this ugly? I'll have you know, I've never murdered anyone. I mean, there is... no, no, that wasn't my fault... How was I meant to know?! Even if she's dead because of what I did, it's not my fault!"

Arturo (holding hands emoji) Shidou: surgeons with floral imagery in their MVs. At least, if the title "Wilted" is anything to go by. Mu too, with the "It's Not My Fault!"

Arturo's murder almost certainly has to do with his canonical secret: that his leaving caused his sister Felicity to commit suicide. We can see the suitcase in his special image already being packed, implying his departure. The clothes messily strewn about may imply that it was a hasty and not particularly thought-through escape.

The simplest answer is that Arturo chose to leave his likely toxic family environment, and once he was gone, Felicity killed herself in the bathroom. Arturo facing away from Es implies that he wasn't there to see what happened to Felicity, his presumed victim.

The main thing that gives me pause is the fact that, unlike what's specifically mentioned in Veronika's murder method, both of the victim's shoes are on. For anyone who's not clear on what I'm getting at, I've seen written in the Milgram fandom that, apparently, having one's shoes off is a common visual metaphor for that person committing suicide in Japan. Thus, the fact that the shoes are on might imply that the victim didn't commit suicide.

Again, assuming that Arturo's victim is Felicity, DRDT canon doesn't give me much of an incentive to believe that he would have killed her himself. So, maybe the parents could have killed Felicity? I initially thought that might take too much blame off of Arturo's shoulders, but on second thought, if the parents were that obviously bad, it could make him look even worse for leaving her alone. So, I guess that's what I'm settling on for now.

PRISONER 03: David Chiem

Trial 1 Song Title: Star in the Night Crime Location: Bedroom Special Image: David performs, possibly for someone important, on an otherwise empty stage, lights all shining on him Murder Method: David yells at Es with the 正 (tally) symbol in his eyes Voice Reveal: "My name is David Chiem. It seems there's been a mistake. But, don't worry! I won't hold it against you. Mistakes can be corrected. It's not difficult to change, as long as you're willing to! I try to be as positive as I can, since I know there're a lot of people that don't get the privilege. ...AGH! CAN YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT, YOU HUMAN PIECE OF GARBAGE?!"

Well, now I'm really wishing I had ever solved the tally5 puzzle. Might be missing some information on this one, sorry about that.

Let's get back to what I wrote in the special image portion. It was unclear in the text if the rest of the seats were filled, but I think that David's victim might be hidden behind his torso in that image. As in, his victim is someone he was inspirationally speaking to, and was likely sitting in the front row. 'Cause, hey, if Literature Girl Insane is on the table with tally5, then we know David also has associations with some suspicious gaps!

...I also really wish I knew whether or not Diana Chiem was real.

My best guess at David's murder would be something similar to the conundrum he believes himself to be in at the Chapter 2 Trial. He broke his speaker's facade in front of this special listener, and the despair that his words caused them led to their death (although again, this one may not be a suicide). Based on that situation, he may have said the thing about being a piece of human garbage to himself.

I think "Star in the Night" is also an interesting hint at where his first song may be headed. In the nighttime, stars are beautiful and visible, the subject of many songs, poems, and pieces of art. They guide people's way. Stars are typically thought of in the night, because, in the daytime, they're useless and invisible, and pale in grandeur next to a real source of brightness, like the sun (I know that the sun is a star, but you get my point). I suspect that David's MV may focus on him, "the star," only within the context of being in his element, "the night," and leave us to wonder what David is like when he's not on stage.

PRISONER 04: Whit Young

Trial 1 Song Title: Mind the Gaps Crime Location: Park Special Image: Whit analyzes what are likely dating profiles ("Analyzing profiles..."), looking bored Murder Method: Whit uses a gun to shoot Es through the heart Voice Reveal: Yo! Whit Young, nice to meet you. Are you really sure everyone here is a murderer? That's wack. I don't remember doing anything suspicious! Yesterday was normal, the day before that was normal, the day before that... the day before that... My mom's really amazing. I love her a lot. I would do anything for her."

Whit is... complicated. In canon, the death he's associated with is the death of his mother, which he reveals in the Chapter 2 Trial (assuming he's telling the truth about that). With the title Mind the Gaps, I thought the story could have something to do with the gaps in the story he tells people while pretending that his mom isn't dead.

Given the rest of the information, though (I WROTE THIS PART BEFORE THE VOICE REVEAL CAME OUT), I've started to think that his murder will be about something else. Like, I don't think his mom was particularly in the market for dating profiles, and even if so, I doubt Whit would be the one picking through them. No, his crime seems to have something to do with his profession as a matchmaker.

I also have my doubts about Whit using a literal gun to kill his victim (where would he get that? mastermind Whit interpretations goin wild), so I believe that it may be more of a "playing cupid" type scenario. Thus, my next idea was born: Whit, in his joking nature, accidentally told one of his clients something along the lines of them being unlovable and how hard it would be to find a match for them, and they fell into such despair that they killed themselves!

...What the hell does the park have to do with that? And, what about the victim's lack of removed shoes?

So, here's idea #3: Whit set up one of his clients on a date with a bad person. He took his innocent client and, whether due to a lapse in judgment or straight up negligence, he set them up with a stalker/serial killer type. Maybe he even told them to go on a date to the park specifically. When his client turns up dead, the question becomes, "how much responsibility did Whit have to screen the date before he set them up together? How much fault is Whit at for the innocent's death?" That sounds like a Milgram-y enough question, right?

...AND THE VOICE REVEAL COMES IN WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!!

Uhhhhh, idea #4! Basically the same as #3, but his client was actually his mom (his dad being fully absent in this AU, not just working abroad). He sets his mom up on a date, the date is sketchy and kills her, and then Whit kills that date out of revenge. He could even use a real ass gun in this iteration. Whit loves to repress and ignore things that bother him, so all that talk about "not remembering doing anything suspicious" could be a lie.

Goodness gracious, Whit, you're really taking me on a rollercoaster here. Truly wack.

PRISONER 05: Ace Markey

Trial 1 Song Title: Unstoppable Crime Location: City Street Special Image: Ace looks at the night sky from atop his motorcycle Murder Method: Ace runs away from Es, who appears to have suffered from a collision Voice Reveal: "Tch. Ace Markey. You wanna fight?! Wait, fuck, you probably have weapons, don't you?! Shit, don't get any closer! You think I'm a murderer? Horseshit! Get off your fucking high horse! ...Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit shit shit, FUCK!"

...So, I'm just going to assume that we've replaced Ace riding horses with Ace riding motorcycles in this story? They're both risky and wild, but motorcycles are much easier to get into more common settings. There are some hilarious references to horses in the dialogue, but I'm not getting the impression of any physical horses yet (what a weird sentence to type), so I'm rolling with this.

That being said, I'm kind of at a loss here. Everything seems to be set up with the assumption that Ace committed a hit and run with his motorcycle, but I find it hard to believe that that's the case for two reasons. The first is that I just don't think it's complex enough of a moral debate for Milgram-- like, yeah, he's definitely guilty if it was just a normal hit and run, although obviously not to a death penalty degree. I feel like discussion would be more about trying to figure out exactly what an innocent or guilty verdict means in his case than dissecting what he did.

The second is that Ace isn't riding a motorcycle in his murder method. The text specifically mentions him "running away." Obviously, a motorcycle is a lot more complicated to draw than a knife or a baseball bat, but if it literally was the murder weapon I see no reason why Ace couldn't have been pictured with that prop. Also, the murder method images didn't even have to be drawn in this case, so, take that!!! (/lh)

However, if it's not a hit and run, what exactly is going on with his murder method? Was someone trying to steal his motorcycle, and he just knocked them over and they hit their head on something? Did he accidentally (or purposefully) lure his victim into oncoming traffic? Where was he going on that starry night?

The only real insight I have is into the song title, Unstoppable (omg, Raise a Suilen collab? /ref). In canon, Ace feels his life is very out of his control; he's anxiously stuck with a job he hates, his diet is determined by his eating disorder, and nobody seems to side with him even when he was almost killed. I have a mental image of the first trial MV focusing on him taking his motorcycle on a ride to nowhere in particular, just lost in the speed and his fear of how the cars could hit him at any moment. The whole vibe would be very similar to the "pressure, pressure"s of Backdraft.

Don't know how accurate that'll be, but I wanted to say something at least vaguely smart for Ace. Hopefully I succeeded?

PRISONER 06: Nico Hakobyan

Trial 1 Song Title: Fight or Flight Crime Location: Locker Room Special Image: Nico plays with a cat using a pink mouse toy while standing in a puddle of water. Murder Method: Sitting on top of them, Nico pushes Es's head onto a wire Voice Reveal: "Uhm... Nico Hakobyan. I'm- I'm really sorry! You're pretty weird. Ah! I'm sorry! Don't get mad at me! ...Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made?!"

Nico's murder almost certainly has something to do with their gender identity. We learn in Chapter 2 that Nico is nonbinary, and locker rooms are an incredibly common place for LGBTQ+ people (especially amab ones, I think, although it's not confirmed that's what Nico is) to be bullied for their genders and/or sexualities. I would not be at all surprised if, similar to how they (allegedly) treated Ace, Nico's murder is them getting back at one of their bullies. That would also make sense with the title Fight or Flight, and "making up for mistakes that someone else made." Nico had been tolerating the bullying for a while, just running away, before choosing to fight back in retaliation.

Although the special images tend to be real (like, Yuno's image wasn't of her buying balloons because the balloons were just a metaphor), I can't help but feel like the special image is largely meant to be an analogy to the murder itself. I mean, how many cats are usually hanging around in wet (presumably) high school locker rooms?

We know that Nico's weapon was some sort of wire, which reminded me of the strings that often appear on dangling cat toys like what I imagine Nico playing with. Basically, I see the image as representing how Nico extended their more mousy personality out into the world, making them a great target for feral bully cats that wanted to eat them up. However, Nico isn't really the mouse-- they're the person, the one who has the true power over the cat in this situation. Their old personality becomes the trap that they use to lure the cat into a false sense of security, and therefore what kills the bully in the end.

I have no idea where the physical wire would have come from in this situation, though. I assume that Nico couldn't have taken it from Hu in this universe (again, assuming that's even what happened in canon), and I don't think there are usually giant, sharp wires just hanging around in locker rooms. There weren't in my high school, at least. Maybe it could be, like, a towel or something? A lanyard? Those would probably look different, though. I guess we'll just have to see.

PRISONER 07: J Rosales

Trial 1 Song Title: Showtime Crime Location: Bridge with camera equipment Special Image: J tries to block the camera from taking a picture of her while several more shutters flash in the background Murder Method: J points a remote control at Es, who has fallen to the floor with contorted limbs Voice Reveal: "J Moreno. What do you people really want? Ransom money? There's no way you're doing this just because you want to "judge our sins" or whatever bullshit you're saying. Don't make me laugh. Find evidence I killed anyone, and then we can talk about murder. Do you really think you're going to understand everything I've been through, just with a silly little song? How arrogant are you?! ...What happened to her was nothing short of a tragedy. Sorry, but I will make no further comment."

Especially given the Voice Reveal quote, I think it's likely that J killed her mother, Mariabella Rosales. The fact that J is still using her stage name and gives talks of ransom money imply to me that, like in DRDT canon, J is working in the theater/movie industry, but trying to pretend that she isn't the daughter of a famous celebrity-- same with the special image seeming to be her avoiding the papparazzi.

The bridge with camera equipment was, in my opinion, most likely a movie set where J and Mariabella were working together. It's unfortunate that they had to be filming on a bridge that day, as I'd reckon that falling off that bridge may have been how Mariabella died. If true, the question then becomes, "how did Mariabella wind up falling to her death?" Ah, we're back into the Kazui zone with this one.

Unless Mariabella is a robot, I really doubt that the remote did anything to her directly. So, the remote is possibly doing what remotes typically do: turning on a TV of some kind. I think that J might have shown Mariabella a video or presentation of some kind that caused Mariabella to react in such a way that she fell off the bridge.

As for what the video is, I'm not sure. Mariabella being part of some kind of scandal isn't something that's been explored in DRDT, but involving her in one would be totally fair game for an AU like this. Thus, J could have been trying to blackmail her mother. Alternately, maybe J was really trying to communicate to Mariabella how miserable being her daughter had made J for her entire life. Then, the shock caused Mariabella to react negatively.

It's possible Mariabella jumped off of the bridge in despair herself, but the shoes once again lead me to believe that wasn't the case. Instead, I think it's possible that A) the shock caused her to accidentally back up too far and fall over, or B) J and Mariabella started arguing physically, and J either accidentally pushed her off the bridge, or backed her into the railing to the point that she fell.

This whole concept is a little surreal, but stranger things can happen in Milgram, I think. It's the most sensible way I can see to piece together all of the evidence so far, but I wouldn't be surprised to be disproven.

PRISONER 08: Rose Lacroix

Trial 1 Song Title: Still Life Crime Location: Dining Room Special Image: Rose sits, upset, in a room full of her personal paintings that she chose to destroy Murder Method: Rose looks away from Es, who is choking on the floor next to an opened jar Voice Reveal: "Mmmm... Rose Lacroix. Zzzzz... Yeah, I killed someone. This really isn't that bad. At least I can paint here. ...I wonder if I can be happy now."

Let me take this moment to express how much I appreciate all of the great puns in the song titles. Still Life is such an awesome title for a song about Rose. It's a genre of painting, obviously; perhaps one that the Spurling Foundation forces her to paint frequently. But, it also hints at how Rose feels stuck in life, like time is just passing her by as she paints passionless masterpieces. And yet, it's still life-- she's not dead, even if she might feel like it sometimes. So cool.

Anyways, the special image is definitely a reference to when Teruko witnesses Rose paint a beautifully haunting portrait, only to cover it up with black paint so that the Spurling Foundation, who she's contracted to, wouldn't own her personal art. That also means that Rose was still likely an art forger in this universe. This is not necessarily true of prisoners like Levi, who may have not acquired the skills associated with their canonical Ultimate talents yet.

Rose has a lifetime of debt to make up for after being arrested as an art forger, but still hates being chained to the Spurling Foundation and slaving her life away making art she hates. In this universe, I think Rose probably killed Richard Spurling in hopes of being free of her contract. Maybe the contract was "until the end of his life," so if she ended his life early, she could be free without keeping all of the debt she was saddled with before joining the Foundation.

I think the weapon is probably Rose's custom weapon, the turpentine. Turpentine can have... a lot of varying abilities, depending on how much you look into it, but I'm pretty sure that ingesting it would lead to you poisoning yourself. Rose might have slipped the turpentine into Richard's drink to kill him, hoping that it wouldn't lead to her getting arrested for a second time under an even worse crime. Fearing that level of imprisonment, Milgram could seem kind of nice, right?

PRISONER 09: Hu Jing

Trial 1 Song Title: High Strung Crime Location: Unknown room with zither in it Special Image: Hu plays the zither Murder Method: Hu strangles Es with both hands as they choke out blood Voice Reveal: "H-Hu Jing. I know what I did was unforgivable... I really am selfish... I'm scared of receiving the punishment I deserve. Please Forgive me! ...Wake up! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Hu's case definitely seems to be missing a lot of information thus far, and whether that's intentional on her part or not has yet to be seen. Given that she seems to be afraid of punishment (which itself is intriguing, given that her DRDT hidden quote includes "but even then, I want to pay for what I did"), I could definitely see her trying to reign in any evidence that might make her look bad.

Both her crime location and special image are strongly connected to the zither, the instrument she loves to play. I'm not sure how that connects to the murder, given that it's not like she's shown bashing Es' head in with the instrument. Instead, she uses her hands to grab Es' neck, just like she might grab the strung neck of the zither. Is it possible she became so stressed, so high strung, that she mistook a human for a zither? That seems a little far fetched, even to me.

However, perhaps those images are trying to show that, prior to this point, all that Hu did in her life was play the zither. If we went on the route that her parents were super overprotective and wanted her to devote her entire life to music, maybe they trapped her in that room to play (Toya Aoyagi moment). One day, she wanted her freedom and snapped, killing her parents, which she immediately regretted.

That is... a lot of speculation. But, even in DRDT itself, Hu's backstory is largely unknown, other than that she cares about her family's intentions a lot, wants peopel to rely on her, and has the anglicized name "Julia." (I imagine that, because of this, it may have been hard to design her murder for this AU. Godspeed.) Especially given that Min's murder in this AU seems to be based on the "poison the competition" secret, we can also speculate that Hu's backstory includes the "hopeless child" secret about attempting suicide three times. If Hu was suicidal as a child, perhaps that would give her parents an additional reason to keep her safe and within arm's reach? Or, maybe it was being held in captivity that led her to try to take her own life three times over.

I'll stop spitballing about Hu now. Looking forward to seeing where this one goes.

PRISONER 10: VERONIKA

Trial 1 Song Title: Bloodletting, The Horror Inside Us Crime Location: Rooftop Special Image: Veronika stands in a dark room with blood all over the floor Murder Method: Veronika kneels with her hands on her chest in front of Es' mangled, bloody body, one of Es' shoes removed Voice Reveal: "My name is Veronika Grebenshchikova! If you don't mind, could you choose not to Forgive me? Death sounds boring. I'd rather stay alive, if you don't mind! To Forgive what I did... it would be denying everything I believe about my life... [Cackling laughter, that trails off with a wheeze] I really am a monster..."

(I know I put a warning for suicide and self harm at the beginning, but it gets extra intense and graphic in this section, so please beware.)

What a long song title! A fun one, though. It makes me wonder if Veronika's MV will have some kind of leech imagery in it. That's what my mind jumped to, anyways.

Speaking of blood, let's talk about Veronika's special image. It would be easy to jump to the conclusion that the blood on the floor belongs to the victim, but I actually think it's Veronika's blood. It's widely speculated that Veronika has the "harm yourself for fun" secret, and some people particularly say that her arm coverings are meant to cover up self harm scars on her arms. If, one day, she got particularly out of control, she could have wound up dripping her own blood all over whatever room that is. A dark interpretation for sure, but both Milgram and DRDT are too.

And, hey, we finally have an Es with shoes off! (...That feels like a really terrible thing to celebrate :((( ) I wouldn't have necessarily expected it from Veronika's crime, but it gives us a solid piece of information to theorize off of. Here's what I think might have happened.

I think that Veronika was super depressed/bored one day, and on the edge of suicide herself. Her friend (you know, the one who gave her the earring whose name I can't remember-- she/her pronouns, I think?) came over to help Veronika and try to save her life. However, whether due to the horror of seeing Veronika surrounded in her own blood or some deeply depressing, nihilistic words that came from Veronika's mouth, Veronika turned the tables and caused her friend to become suicidal instead. So, the friend went up to the roof, and jumped off of it.

However, when Veronika found her friend, she didn't react in tragedy. Instead, she found the results of her actions incredibly interesting, and skipped the horror movies phase straight to being fascinated with death itself. Death finally gave Veronika's life worth, and upon making this realization, she saw herself as a monster.

...Hopefully I wasn't just being incredibly edgy for no reason there. It is the course of actions that I find most plausible at this point, but also, I don't really see how there would be that much of a guilty/innocent argument here? Like, if Veronika firmly planned to do something like this again, then I don't see why an innocent would be viable, even if it was an accident the first time.

I also find it really interesting that she says that she wants a Not Forgiven verdict, but also says she doesn't want to die. Does she have reason to believe that an Innocent verdict would lead to death? Most people usually assume the other way around, if anything.

(Extra severe suicide/self harm warning over.)

PRISONER 11: Arei Nageishi

Trial 1 Song Title: Life's Queens Crime Location: Bowling Alley Special Image: Arei looks in at her unevenly cut hair in a bathroom mirror Murder Method: Arei hits Es in the head with a bowling ball Voice Reveal: "Arei Nageishi! Pfft! God, you're pathetic! Why the hell are we even here? How could anyone be stupid enough to do anything but Forgive me? Are you really that much of an idiot?! ...WHO'S THE WEAK ONE NOW, HUH?!"

Yeah, I can see how Arei's backstory could lend itself to murder as is. Given how similar her special image is to that one CG in Chapter 2, it definitely seems like the bullying from Arei's sisters persisted.

The fact that the title of the song is Life's Queens, plural, I would suspect that both sisters (why can I not remember their names) are probably victims here. Like, the song might start off with the two of them being the queens of life, but after Arei kills them, then she becomes the new queen.

The most interesting thing to me is that the crime location is in a bowling alley. That's a really public location. Did Arei kill her sister(s) while other people were watching? At the very least, you think it'd be caught on some kind of camera. That definitely speaks to the crime perhaps being a crime of passion, where Arei didn't plan to kill her sister(s) until the bowling ball was in her hand and the rage was coursing through her body.

But also, why were her sisters even there in the first place? Did they come to humiliate her while she was practicing her hobby? Exactly how much of a professional bowler is Arei in this AU? It'll be interesting to learn that as more information comes out.

PRISONER 12: Eden Tobisa

Trial 1 Song Title: Alarm Bells Crime Location: Bedroom full of clocks Special Image: An exhausted Eden sits at a work bench in front of several analog clocks that all read 6:00 Murder Method: Eden covers her eyes while the roman numeral for 6 (VI) glows on her hand, while Es lies on the floor Voice Reveal: "Uhm... Eden Tobisa. Even when things are looking down, we just have to try our best, and trust each other! I... I never wanted anyone to die! Es... why are you doing this? ...Wh-what have you done?!"

I definitely think it's an important detail that the clocks on Eden's desk are analog. Don't quote me on this, but I'm pretty sure that Eden has stated that she has a preference for making unique, detailed, antique-style clocks that could one day become a family heirloom. Analog clocks are clocks with faces and inner gears and such, which means that, unlike Rose (or even Mikoto, maybe), I don't think Eden is being forced to do work she doesn't enjoy. That doesn't mean she couldn't be unhappy at the quantity of work in front of her, but at least she shouldn't hate it at its core.

...Is the murder method magic???

No, seriously, what the hell is going on with Eden's glowing hand? Is it important that it's in Roman numerals as opposed to the Arabic numeral 6? Although Eden isn't prisoner 6 (that would be Nico; seems irrelevant?), there definitely seems to be an emphasis on the number 6 (VI) in Eden's story. I'm not coming up with anything particularly related to 6 in Eden's backstory. So, what gives?

My strongest idea is that... maybe Eden had to tell somebody that they were running out of time in some capacity (either on a project or in their life), and it caused the other person to die of shock? I guess that could be the girl she kissed, or someone else who she surprised with her canonical lesbianism. Although, someone dying of shock that Eden is gay would make Eden pretty obviously innocent, in my opinion.

For what it's worth, I do mostly believe her when she says that she didn't intend for anybody to die. The hand covering her eyes might imply that she was blind to the consequences her actions might have had. Not to say that covering your eyes can fully absolve you of guilt for a crime, of course. I wonder where you got that idea from, particularly for Eden...

PRISONER 13: Min Jeung

Trial 1 Song Title: 100% Perfection Crime Location: Untidy bedroom Special Image: Min is slumped over a desk, at which she had been writing the chemical formula for tetrodoxotin (thank you reverse image search) Murder Method: Es lies on the floor clutching at their neck as Min yells into a phone, "ln(x³ - 2 . 13) = 0" written on her arm Voice Reveal: "Min Jeung. This is ludicrous. How are we meant to expect a fair judgment when your "justice" is determined by one person's whims and biases? When an institution is non-functional, it is highly illogical to indiscriminately tear it down. Improving the basis already in place is by far the most constructive way to conduct process. There is no country in the world in which I would be judged a murderer. To say one person has the authority to decide that I am is a flagrant display of vanity. ...The condition has been met. There is no need for further intervention."

Fuck you for making me remember high school calculus (/lh). The answer is x = -1.042, if it's at all relevant to the story.

I truly expect it's a random equation, but in case it's relevant, I'll say what I think the answer could mean. It would make more sense if the answer had an "i" in it, representing an imaginary number created by taking the evenly-numbered root of a negative number, but because we have an odd numbered root, it doesn't. Anyways, you could read the answer as "negative: won zero for two." Basically, if there were some kind of match or competition that Min was in, she could see it as a negative that she won zero out of two times, AKA that she lost twice. Again, the actual answer is probably irrelevant, especially given that you only get this answer if you choose to round to three decimal places, but this is Milgram. Even the most unexpected of elements can be important to the story!

Not to mention, themes of competition are likely relevant to Min's story. Although it's debatable whether Hope's Peak Academy and the title of Ultimate Student exist in this universe, we know that Min's backstory involves her entering an academic competition in order to secure status for herself and money for her struggling family. Many people also theorize that her secret was one about poisoning the competition in order to get ahead. Combined with the formula for tetrodoxotin, a poison found in pufferfish that's more lethal than cyanide, it seems very likely that this is the path that Min's story is headed down.

However, I do believe that Min is largely telling the truth when she says that she wouldn't be judged a murderer in any country. Min should have been busy participating in whatever competition she was in, which means that someone else would have taken the action to actively poison the competitors, taking the blood off of Min's hands. However, the crime would have been committed for Min's sake, and Min may have even directed them to carry out the attack over the phone. She at least would have been aware of the plan, if you assume that the "condition being met" was her winning, and the "further intervention" would have been more poisoning. I'm not sure what exactly XF-Ture Tech would get out of helping Min in this situation, but perhaps we'll hear more about it later.

PRISONER 14: Xander Matthews

Trial 1 Song Title: Will of the Many Crime Location: Entire City Special Image: Xander rallies a crowd from atop a simple chair Murder Method: Xander stabs Es in the gut with a knife Voice Reveal: "Alexander Matthews. Just call me Xander. Don't you see how broken this entire system is?! What makes you think you hold a monopoly over morality, huh?! What gives you the right to Forgive or Not Forgive?! When something is rotten, you throw it away. It's the same with this twisted place! ...Warden? ...Ah... haha... I did it... You all can finally rest..."

We might be back to our good buddies the Spurling Foundation here with Xander. After all, he also has beef with the Spurlings, as they were the ones who polluted the water(?) in Xander's hometown while he was studying abroad, causing his family and hometown to die excruciating deaths. It would make sense if his friends and family were the ones he was saying could finally rest, after he led a rebellion against the Spurling Foundation and killed Duke.

Xander calling out to the Warden also makes me believe more strongly that this is what's going on. As DRDT enjoyers should be able to tell, Es is represented by Mai in this AU, and Mai (assuming she is Unnamed Student) was the one on the bus talking to Xander when he first revealed his backstory to us, the audience. In that video, she urged Xander to not get too caught up in negative memories involving the incident, nor to put himself in danger trying to enact revenge. If Mai remembers this universe's version of that conversation, on some level, it would make sense that she might look crestfallen that Xander acted on his impulses in her absence, and that Xander could notice that. I am assuming an emotion onto Mai, here, but I think it's likely what was implied?

Making the crime location the entire city, though, is... a bit intense? Even as an attempted murderer in canon and a basically confirmed murderer in this AU, I don't think that Xander is a huge fan of causing the deaths of innocents. In fact, the Spurlings killing innocents is what got him so riled up in the first place. Thus, I wouldn't think he'd tell his group to raze an entire town-- maybe if it had turned into, like, a Spurling-operated factory city, but even then, there'd be a lot of innocent employees in the line of fire. Perhaps the city could indicate that Xander's group had to hunt for Duke through the city, and Xander just happened to be the one to find him?

PRISONER 15: Charles Cuevas

Trial 1 Song Title: Chain Reaction Crime Location: Laboratory table with test tubes Special Image: Charles desperately kneels in front of a grave Murder Method: Es stands in a pool of blood with a question mark above their head, and Charles is fully absent Voice Reveal: "Charles Cuevas. I was hoping the Warden would be competent, at least, but clearly I was a fool to think that could ever be the case. Are you stupid?! Warden... Es... I have a request. ...Hgh... Ack!... kch [sharp inhale]"

Aha, classic Charles forgor moment. This will make for an interesting premise, indeed.

What I mean to say is, in DRDT canon, we know that Charles has childhood amnesia, as well of a debilitating fear of blood and dead bodies. These traits originated from the death of his brother, Elliot, and (in DRDT, at least) likely had something to do with dogs. However, Charles doesn't remember any of that happening until an outside source tells him about it. Therefore, it seems very likely to me that the question mark and Charles' absence is meant to represent that Charles doesn't remember what exactly his crime was, sort of like Mikoto.

It seems like Elliot's death will be Charles' fault, somehow. It might have something to do with the test tubes on the laboratory table that make up the crime location-- after all, it would be pretty irregular for dogs to be in that location, and we know little enough about the canonical dog incident that it may have been more convenient to make up something new. It could be an accidental poisoning, I guess? Or, maybe Charles accidentally caused some sort of explosion that Elliot needed to save him from, thus bringing some more blood and gore for Charles to be afraid of into the situation.

My other main point of interest is that special image. At first glance, it seems simple enough-- Charles is sadly visiting his brother's grave. But, there are a few contradictions in that interpretation. It isn't mentioned that Charles is a child in the picture, so I'm assuming the silhouette is of his current, adult, 20-ish form. Unless the crime was time shifted for purposes of the AU, Elliot should have died long ago. That means that it wouldn't have been the funeral, or, more importantly, anything that Charles would have been able to block out with his childhood amnesia. If the event is the same as DRDT, 20-something Charles shouldn't know that Elliot exists, much less the location of his grave or that he should be sad about Elliot's passing. So, what's going on here?

The simplest answer is just that Charles' crime was time shifted, and instead of childhood amnesia, it's 20-ish amnesia. The special image could be almost the exact moment where Charles forgot it all due to his trauma. I don't think we have enough evidence to theorize about anything counter to that at the moment, so I'll stick with it.

You can't leave me on a cliffhanger like this with that request, though!!! Is Charles going to try to strike a deal with Es like Kotoko did in t1? If so, what could it be? I'm so curious. Why is Charles Prisoner 15 aaaaaaaaa (/lh)

PRISONER 16: Teruko Tawaki

Trial 1 Song Title: Armageddon Crime Location: ??? Special Image: Teruko reaches out to a dark figure in a void of bright light Murder Method: Es lies as if in a coffin before a calm Teruko, who has a question mark on her left hand Voice Reveal: "Teruko Tawaki. Are you okay? You don't need to know anything about my crimes. I'm unforgivable. That's all you need, right? If you can find a way to do it... just kill me. ...[sigh] Why did I ever get my hopes up?"

And now we have Teruko to bring it all home! My, uh... my brain has been running a little wild on this one, so here's your warning to leave now before the delulu truly sets in.

...

Okay, your fate is now sealed. To talk about Teruko, I think it might be helpful to talk about our Warden at the same time.

WARDEN: Mai "Es" Akasaki

Song Title: Undercover Cover Song: Hibana Notable Characteristics: Covered left arm that Es doesn't want anyone to touch Special Phrase?: "This is not what I wanted"

Knowing canonical Mai (I say "knowing" as if her two canonical speaking roles aren't technically still a theory), she has a flower tattoo on her left arm. In Teruko's murder method image, she has a question mark on her left hand, very similar to how some believe that Teruko is also covering up a flower tattoo on her left arm in canon. Additionally, Teruko's special image really reminds me of this second anniversary art by DRDTdev, in which Teruko is reaching out to, who else, but Mai? (Nobody else wears gloves like that, to my knowledge.) Bringing attention to these details makes me think that they are very connected in this AU. In fact, I think it's possible that Teruko's victim was Mai.

While I don't have a link to one in particular, I know that there are theories floating around out there that Milgram is some kind of purgatory. If this AU follows that concept, then it would be totally fine if Mai was dead. This "Es" form of her would be reincarnated, which would be why they mostly look like Milgram's Es, but have red highlights and pointy eyes reminiscent of Mai. Other than the outfit, it seems like Milgram's wardens don't have to look like our Es, which means that, theoretically, there should be nothing stopping Mai from appearing exactly like herself. Whatever process Mai used to bring her ghostly self into Milgram might have messed up her appearance slightly, while the other students are prisoners who get to retain their unique looks.

Yeah, I said "bring herself into Milgram." I think Mai may haven been the one to bring all of the prisoners to the facility. Have you ever heard of the DRDT time loop theory? Based on some of Veronika's dialogue in the prologue, as well as hidden text on the DRDT Tumblr page, some people believe that the story of DRDT is a time loop, in which the students have been repeating this killing game over and over. Again, I don't have a link for this, but I think I've seen some versions of the theory where it was to protect them from something, maybe Ultimate Despair?

In this AU, I think Mai might have done something to bring the prisoners into Milgram for the same reasons the time loop might exist-- to protect them from something. Could have been whatever legal repercussions they would face for their crimes, or could have been a feared corruption of their personality. The first probably makes more logical sense, but the second would fit with what I wrote about Xander calling out to her. Could be both, also. Either way, MonoTV and the Trial system forces her to judge them, potentially sending some of them to their deaths, resulting in something that wasn't what Mai wanted.

I'm really glad that I have to pull on crack theories from both Milgram and DRDT to pull this off.

Here's the quicker rundown: whether they were all in a class or not, Mai at least individually knew all of these people before her death. However, Mai was tragically involved in an incident of Teruko's causing, possibly due to Teruko's bad luck, and she passed away. As a ghost(???), she was able to look over the realm of the living, and see that all of her friends were doing way, way worse than how she left them. All of them were succumbing to the worst parts of themselves, and becoming murderers!! So, she made a wish: that she wanted to see all of her friends again, and protect them from themselves by letting them listen to her good judgment once more. The wish actually succeeded, but not in the way that Mai wanted. Mai wasn't allowed to be herself, and she wouldn't remember her friends, nor would they recognize her. Additionally, the judgment was codified into a system that seemed to only punish her friends or worsen their existing ideals. She might be able to save some of them, but, would it be worth it, if she has to harm the others along the way...?

Well, that's my answer. I'd say there's about a 5% chance I've just cracked the entire thing wide open, and a 95% chance that this will all be very embarrassing as soon as, like, Levi's VD comes out. I don't really like bringing ghosts and "wishes" into Milgram or DRDT when there's no evidence either of them are present in either story. But, despite it all, this is still a first look, so I can be a little silly here.

Either way, I had a lot of fun writing and thinking about it!

I commend you for all of the effort you've put into this AU project, and all of the work I'm sure you will put in the future (assuming you continue on your plans of at least making a first trial). Hopefully reading all of this will convey some of the excitement we have for following this AU.

If anyone wants to talk about their own theories or counter points, I can try my best, although it honestly might be better to wait until some more information comes out before trying to get too deep into things. Also, my hands are tired from typing all this out-- somehow, I always seem to have more to say than I think I do. This has been my first thoughts on FF's DRDT Milgram AU, you have been very strong to make it through I-don't-even-know-how-many-words of me rambling, and I am now going back to trying very hard to not sink a ton of time into thinking about DRDT related media.

Aaaaaaah, and now people are making DRDT x SDRA2 swap AUs? Right after I finished DRDTtober and swore that I would take a break from drawing DRDT for a little bit?! You people, I swear (/aff).

DRDT + Milgram AU: Undercover (Introduction)

Finally succumbed to the Urges and came up with ideas for a full Danganronpa Despair Time - Milgram AU, and now I feel like sharing. This means giving each character a MV + VD concept (not a full VD though I ain’t writing that much dialogue, and not a full MV because who do you think I am), plus this Undercover post! I’m not sure if I’ll commit to this for a full three trials, or I’ll just drop it after just one, but I can guarantee I’ll do this trial in full. Feel free to make analysis posts (no pressure obvs), but also obvs don't expect this to be that good, I'm doing this for fun.

And if you come from the Milgram side, uh... have fun? I am curious about what people with no prior conceptions of these characters would think, but I do recommend DRDT if you haven't watched it (the overlap between the fandoms is non-trivial, I imagine you'll like it). If not, you should probably look up the character designs at least, but be wary that there will be DRDT spoilers.

As an obvious disclaimer just in case, I am not affiliated with either DRDT or Milgram in any way, this is just a fanmade AU done entirely for fun.

Basic Concept

Pretty simple. What if the 16 students of DRDT were prisoners in Milgram? This means they're all "murderers" by some loose definition of the word, implying most of their backstories must be changed to acommodate for that. For the prisoner pairs, I just paired them based on the Chapter 1 recap. The rest is pretty self-explanatory provided you know how Milgram works; three trials, vote Forgiven/Unforgiven, etc. I won't repeat it all here. You can go to the official Milgram YT channel for more information if you're not familiar.

Meet Es

Although they are of unspecified adult age, this universe’s Es is very similar to canon Es from the main series, at least in appearance. The only differences are red highlights in their hair, as well as sharp yellow eyes and taller height. They also wear arm sleeves on both their arms, being particularly adverse to people touching the left one, and their voice is slightly higher pitch. As for their personality… well, you’ll have to wait for the VDs, right? But as a heads up, they’re quite a bit nicer than canon Es, though they can still get pretty strict with the prisoners. 

(Can you tell who they’re connected to yet?)

Their uniform is the same as canon, including the band thing which in Milgram runes reads “reciffO eciloP”. The only difference is that their other band thing is longer and has the following runes:

(As a heads up, since there's no rune for 'q' I just used the rune for 'c/k' in its place. You probably don't need to translate it all to know what this says if you're familiar with DRDT lore)

Jackalope is replaced by DRDT canon MonoTV, no big changes to its personality. It still breaks the fourth wall and talks to an audience,which is odd for the prisoners (and Es) seeing as there is no audience in-universe (at least, that's what it claims). 

*Es’ VD is mostly the same, besides changes in dialogue caused by the difference in personalities. The only real difference is that there is no ‘extra cell.’

*Cover is still Hibana. 

Alright, let's get to the fun stuff.

Undercover

(It is highly recommended you know what the canon Undercover looks like before reading this, since a lot of it is pretty similar)

The opening is still the same minus Es' different appearance and MonoTV replacing Jackalope, and only starts changing when the prisoners begin showing up.

(Don’t- Don’t expect this to actually work as a song btw. I’m not insane enough to make that work)

UNDER Split in between decisions, my conscious is made up of torn stitches

Levi (01) holds a mostly neutral expression as he holds up his prisoner card, which displays his face alongside an image of an alleyway. His pose keeps changing slightly in smash cuts. Levi’s face darkens right before there’s a switch to the next prisoner.

(Note: I won’t mention the pose switching and the face on the card all the time, since that’s part of canon Undercover. Just assume it always repeats)

UNDER The beauty in simplicity, wilting with rising complexities

Arturo (02) has his chin up arrogantly at first, showing a prisoner card with a picture of a bathroom. He scoffs and turns around before the switch. 

UNDER A liar? No, that’s wrong! My honesty shines like a star in the night

David (03) (speaker persona) smiles nervously, rubbing at his cheek with a finger. His card shows a bedroom. He covers his face with his free hand, sighing before the switch.

UNDER A sinner? No, you’re kidding! I’m innocent as can be, just don’t mind the gaps

Whit (04) throws a cheeky grin to the camera, doing a finger gun with his free hand. His card shows a park. He nervously rubs the back of his neck before the switch.

(Note: Yes I gave him 04 because of the tetraphobia thing sue me-)

UNDER With a fury and a passion, unstoppable, show them your fangs

Ace (05) snarls at the camera. His card shows a city street. He throws it to the floor angrily before the switch. 

(Note: Sometimes I wasn't quite able to tie their talent to their murder, so it's either tangential to their story or has been replaced with something similar. I am mentioning this with Ace for... no reason in particular, sure, you'll believe that)

UNDER Your fears and anxieties, Respond to the stress, show me fight or flight

Nico (06) hides under the part of their cloak which looks like a scarf, peeking out nervously. Their card shows a locker room. They take a step back as the scene switches.

INSERT CHORUS HERE

UNDER Each existence is like no other, Lucky, unlucky, showtime reaches all

J (07) holds up her card with an unsatisfied expression. It shows a bridge surrounded by camera equipment. She rolls her eyes as the scene switches.

UNDER And yet, it’s all the same In the end, this wretched still life goes on

Rose (08) yawns as she holds up her card lazily. It shows a large dining room. The card slips from her hand as she falls asleep.

UNDER It’s too much, too much, I’m high strung, please forgive my sins

Hu (09) looks nervous, glancing around as if to find a place to hide. Her card shows a zither in a non-descript room. She drops her card, and closes her eyes with a pained expression, a hand on her chest. 

UNDER Please do condemn me, Bloodletting, the horror inside us is what makes me feel.

Veronika (10) spins and gives the camera a bright smile as she pulls out her card. It shows a rooftop. She throws the card in the air dramatically, laughing as it spins around and falls beside her. Her eyes fall back on the camera, and she smirks menacingly. 

UNDER  Unopposable, incontestable Merry kings, life’s queens, for me they bow down.

Arei (11) is sticking out her tongue and looking to the side dismissively. Her card shows a bowling alley. She laughs into her hand before the scene switch.

UNDER My weakness haunts me, Alarm bells are ringing, there's no going back.

Eden (12) fidgets with her hands, shaking nervously. She hides her face behind her card as she shows it, but her teary eyes are still visible over it. The card shows a bedroom full of clocks. She cries into her hands before the switch. 

INSERT CHORUS HERE

[The music winds down, a bridge of sorts. As it plays, a few scenes are shown, where only the characters’ silhouettes are visible, white noise covering them]

[01: A steaming kettle covers most of the foreground. In the background, Levi is seen sitting at a table, head slumped forward. Most of the table is visible, but no one else is in the frame]

[02: Arturo is seen to the left, holding a white turtle neck shirt in his hands. Behind him, an open suitcase sits on a bed, clothes splayed haphazardly around it]

[03: David stands alone on an empty stage, arms wide out. The spotlights are all on him. The entire stage and some of the front row seats are visible, with David’s silhouette only covering a small part in the center of the frame]

[04: A computer monitor covers almost the entire frame. There are countless photos and words, but they’re all too blurry to see, with the exception of a small message on top which reads “Analyzing profiles…” Whit is reflected on the screen, resting his head on one of his fists]

[05: Ace sits on a motorcycle, looking up and admiring the night sky which takes up most of the frame]

[06: Nico is crouched beside a cat, holding out a pink mouse toy for it to play with. Only their legs are visible, but there is a puddle of water under Nico]

[07: J has her palm spread out all over the screen, as if blocking the camera. There are flashes of light behind her, but the source is impossible to see]

[08: Rose sits slumped in a chair, hands on her face. All around her, dozens of canvases can be seen, painted entirely in black. Small bits of color poke out at the bottom, but no full paintings are visible]

[09: The camera is entirely focused on the top of a zither. Hu’s hand is visible, touching the strings with her plectra]

[10: Only Veronika’s footwear is visible over a dark floor. The rest of the scene is filled entirely by blood]

[11: Arei stands in front of a bathroom mirror. She’s holding the right side of her hair, the only part that’s visible. It looks very unevenly cut]

[12: Eden is holding her head in her hands, slumped over a work desk full of small machinery. Behind her are a multitude of analog clocks of various designs, all showing the same time; 6:00]

[13: Min is sitting on a chair, slumped forward and apparently collapsed over a notebook. A pen sits just beside her right hand. A bit of the writing can be seen, showing this:]

[The brown part being Min's hair. Don't make fun of me I'm using Paint and have zero art skills]

[14: Xander, the focus of the shot, stands in front of a crowd, standing on a simple chair. His fist is in the air, and so are the fists of everyone in the crowd]

[15: Charles is kneeling over a grave, the name on it hidden behind the silhouette. Charles is pulling at his hair with his hands. Other graves are visible around him, but the edges of the screen are darkened and it’s impossible to see them well]

[16: Teruko’s hand is reaching out to a black figure, this one without white noise. The figure is completely non-descript, more a simple shadow than a proper silhouette. Blinding white light surrounds this figure] 

UNDER No mistakes, no corrections, 100% Perfection, results shall not vary. 

Min (13) wears a neutral expression, and she holds her card perfectly upright. Her pose changes only to match the exact angles actual mugshots use. Her card shows an untidy bedroom. Before the switch, she lowers her hand, and looks briefly to the side, before turning back to the camera. When she does, her left eye flashes magenta behind her hair. 

UNDER Fighting for true justice, Stand strong, a reflection of the will of the many

Xander (14) is glaring at the camera, moving his card around flippantly. Said card shows a window overlooking an entire city. Xander throws the card away before throwing a punch at the screen.

UNDER Leave no room to hide, No hesitation, a chain reaction of truth unfolds

Charles (15) looks serious, if a bit annoyed as he holds up his card. It shows a laboratory table with several test tubes. He turns his back to the camera, adjusting his goggles, but gives one last, softer look behind him as the scene switches. 

UNDER Or shall the secrets remain? What lies beyond the lies, armageddon untold

Teruko (16) looks at the camera with cold eyes, but a hint of a frown on her lips. Her pose never changes; unlike everyone else, her segment is one continuous shot. It starts with her holding her card at an angle such that only her face is visible on it. She closes her eyes solemnly, before finally flipping her card around so only the backside is shown. It has the Milgram logo combined with the DRDT logo. She never shows the rest of the front of the card, as the scene switches moments after. 

[Pre-chorus, as the prisoners hold their hands to their mouths before a scene of them smiling plays. At the end, for a few frames, a white camellia blooms, before there’s a sudden shift in scenery as we hit the final chorus. All the prisoners’ silhouettes have a still shot each with Es, with a blood splatter always under the latter. The scene starts to focus on each individually]

[Levi’s punching Es in the face, Es thrown to the floor from the impact. Brass knuckles are barely visible on his hand. Levi’s shouting, as are all the other prisoners]

[Arturo is kneeling, facing away from Es. The latter is laying on the floor behind him in what would be a pretty uncomfortable position. Arturo is holding his head in his hands, his mouth visible from the side and open in a shout. One of Es’ shoes is off]

[David is holding Es by the neck of their shirt, shouting at their face (from now on I’ll stop clarifying that they’re shouting). The following symbol appears over where his eyes would be, glowing yellow: 正]

[Whit is pointing what looks to be a gun at Es, who is recoiling as if they’ve been shot in the heart]

[Ace is seen running, Es’ body falling to the ground beside him and twisting as if they’d been bumped into]

[Nico sits on top of Es’ back. With one of their hands, they’re grabbing onto Es’ hair and apparently pushing it forward. With the other they’re holding two ends of a wire firmly planted on Es’ neck]

[J stands normally, pointing what seems to be a remote control at Es. The latter is face-up on the floor, their limbs contorted in unnatural angles]

[Rose is standing, facing away from Es, who is kneeling and grabbing at their throat. A small jar sits beside them, the cap taken off]

[While standing, Hu is grabbing Es by the throat with both hands, blood coming from the Warden’s throat]

[Veronika is kneeling besides Es’ face-up body. Her hands are on her chest, and there is blood under her as well as the Warden. Meanwhile, Es’ limbs are contorted in unnatural ways, and one of their shoes is off]

[Arei is violently swinging a bowling ball at Es’ head, causing their body to twist around as it falls]

[Eden is standing, covering her eyes. Her right hand has a Ⅵ symbol glowing bright yellow. Es is uncomfortably laying face-up on the floor]

[Min is standing with her back turned to Es, who is kneeling on the floor and grasping at their neck. Min is shouting into a landline phone. Along her arm, an equation glows bright yellow:

ln(x³ - 2 . 13) = 0]

[Xander is grabbing Es’ shoulder, plunging a knife into their stomach]

[Es is standing neutrally, but there is still blood on the floor. A glowing yellow question mark floats above them. Charles is nowhere to be seen]

[Teruko is kneeling calmly besides Es, who is lying face-up with their hands crossed over their chest as if in a coffin. A question mark glows on Teruko's left hand. Teruko is the only prisoner besides Charles who is not screaming]

[The song winds down while a sped up and translucent version of the video plays in the background. A shadow begins growing in the middle, and for just a moment, two sharp yellow eyes stare at the camera from the center of the screen. The finale simply has Es exiting to the left as they do in canon Undercover]

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

And there's Undercover! How we feeling? Hope you enjoyed! Take care!

[brokenmenswhore]

Thanks luv! So, you are married to Aemond, yet despite his kindness to you, your sexual activities are treated as a duty (like your marriage). Aegon notices the situation and decides to give you a proper orgasm with his tongue. The issue is that he leaves you without fucking you (saving it for another time), and you can't help but crave him, you are desperate for him to fuck you (and when he does, he does it deliciously, making you feel like the luckiest woman in Westeros).

it’s 1am in nyc and this ask is driving me crazy i need him so bad

satiate | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

Aemond came with one final thrust of his hips, spilling his seed inside of you as you continued to lay stagnant beneath him.

Aemond pulled out of you and rolled over, laying next to you. “Hopefully that will take,” he spoke, catching his breath.

Tonight was not unusual. Since you wed Aemond, sex has been about duty. He was a perfect husband, and was very kind to you, even in bed, but it was always about duty over all else.

“Yes, hopefully,” you responded.

Aemond turned his head toward you. “Are you alright?”

You smiled, appreciative that he was attentive to you. “Yes, thank you,” you responded.

There was nothing wrong with Aemond, and your marriage worked in public. However, you wished there was more passion, more connection, more something in private. This could not be all that sex has to offer. Still, Aemond made sure you consented and were alright.

You knew his brother, Aegon, was familiar with sex, perhaps more than anyone else. You were always attracted to him, and you always wondered what it would be like if it were him trying to impregnate you.

You and Aemond had been married for exactly a fortnight, which meant he had worked to put an heir inside of you exactly fourteen times.

Each morning you rose with a dull aching between your legs that you could not seem to satisfy. You were not sure exactly what it was or how to resolve it, so you spent most mornings in a state of uncomfortableness until the aching went away.

You were subsequently more irritable during the first half of the day, shifting uncontrollably in your seat or nonstop switching the leg holding most of your weight when you stood.

Aegon took pity on you.

He noticed the change in your attitude since your marriage, and after five days, he picked up on you rubbing your thighs together as you tired to get comfortable for breakfast each morning. After nine, he could see the exhaustion in your eyes, and he knew it was from his brother occupying you deep into the hours of the night.

You had been with Aemond long enough for the pain and uncomfortableness of sex to fade away, but it hadn’t seemed to. That meant you that weren’t connecting the way you should, and Aegon suspected that exact truth.

“My brother is incapable of satiating your needs, hm?” Aegon spoke, crossing his arms as he leaned on the wall beside where you were standing and flipping through the pages of a book. You let him into your chambers because he asked to speak to you, but this was not what you expected.

You paused your actions and lifted your head, turning it toward Aegon. “Excuse me?”

“I can sense it,” he responded.

You scoffed, “I do not know to what you refer.”

“Put the book down.”

You looked up at him, and you don’t know why, but you did what he asked. You closed the book and placed it down on the table beside you.

“Lay down on the bed.”

“Do I look like someone-“

“Y/N,” Aegon cut you off, holding up a hand, “do you want my help or not?”

“Help?”

Aegon somewhat pitied your innocence, but he was aroused by it more. “Do you want me to make that aching between your legs go away?”

You took a deep breath. You were embarrassed, but you had nothing to be ashamed of. “I am simply sore. Impregnation can be rather intense.”

Aegon tutted, “no, no, that’s not it. You may not know what it is, but you know it’s not that.”

“Enlighten me then, if you are so well versed in such things,” you teased, trying to ease the tension.

“Are you going to lay down or not?” he asked, not taking the bait and maintaining his serious tone.

You walked over to the bed, sitting and shifting your back against the pillows as you straightened your legs and made yourself comfortable. “Like this?” you asked.

Aegon smiled at you. He thought that you were so cute for checking.

“If you’re comfortable,” he replied, crawling on top of the bed and kneeling in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, hearing your breath hitch as your dress was pushed up to your waist, exposing your small clothes to Aegon.

“May I?” he asked, tugging at the waistband of your small clothes.

You nodded your head yes and swallowed back your nervousness, watching him pull the fabric down your legs, completely exposing you to him.

“You feel the aching right now?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you answered.

Aegon dipped his head until he connected with your folds, placing a soft kiss there.

“What are you doing?” you questioned.

“I’m gonna taste you, darling.”

You shifted in your seated position. “What do you mean?”

Aegon only smiled in response, dipping his head again and running his tongue between your folds.

You gasped at the wet feeling, your head instinctively falling backwards. Aegon began to flick and swirl his tongue, and you moaned at the sensation.

This was completely new to you, and you questioned whether or not you could trust Aegon. You had heard the whispers about him, and how rough he liked things.

You also questioned if this was ethical. It was objectively unfair to bed another man while married, especially your husband’s brother, but despite how wonderful Aemond could be, it was evident that your marriage was political and dutiful only. If Aemond could run to whorehouses when he was not sleeping next to you, you could indulge yourself just this once.

Still, you were nervous about how Aegon would treat you.

“Aegon?”

You caught his attention, but he didn’t stop. He began to suck on your clit, gazing up at you as he did so, showing that he was listening to you.

“Are you going to be nice?”

Aegon moaned into your cunt before briefly pulling away, just long enough to say, “you can trust me.”

Something about the way he said it had you believing him, and your muscles relaxed beneath him as he kissed and sucked at your clit. The stimulation was new, and therefore it was becoming too much too fast.

“Aegon, I-“

Aegon only sped up, pressing his face further into you and carefully watching your face contort as you whined. He held a firm grip on your hips to ensure you stayed where he wanted you, and you felt the familiar aching rise in the pit of your stomach again.

“Aegon-“ you called again, but he still didn’t let up.

Within seconds you felt the aching coil snap, your legs shaking and your hips briefly lifting off the bed as you felt like the feeling you had between your legs for weeks was finally broken.

You caught your breath, and Aegon pulled away from you to level his face with your own.

“Good, huh?” he teased.

You couldn’t help yourself. Instead of responding, you pulled his face to yours, kissing him hard to show your thanks. Aegon’s body reacted instantly, reciprocating the kiss. You felt somewhat bad that it was so quick, but the feeling was so sweet and so new, and you couldn’t help yourself.

You tasted something salty-sweet on his lips. You pulled away and wiped a finger over your lips, sucking the digit and tasting the wetness, looking at Aegon in confusion.

“That’s you,” Aegon said, nearly growling at the sight.

Your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, which Aegon found amusing, as he kissed you again, before leaving the bed completely.

You shifted forward onto your knees and crawled to the opposite edge of the bed, trying to catch him but too weak to stand. “Where are you going?”

“Aemond will be back soon,” he said, adjusting his clothing.

You don’t know why you said it, but you were feeling bold, and what he made you feel was so good, you wanted more.

“Aegon, I want you.”

Aegon smiled and dropped his head momentarily. He turned back to you, as if he intended to say something, but he promptly righted himself and exited the room, leaving you alone to do nothing but crave him.

The following morning, the Targaryen-Hightowers were all gathered for breakfast with some guests, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Aegon. You desperately wanted more from him, and you wanted that much to be obvious to him, but it was hard to do much with Aemond present.

It was even difficult to speak to him; you and Aegon usually did not have private conversations. When he tried to speak to you without a group setting, you often blushed and found a reason to leave, unsure of how to speak to someone you were so attracted to, especially if they were not your husband.

However, right now, all you wanted was to be near him.

“Rather beautiful day it appears,” you spoke, approaching his chair, where he was already seated and drinking, despite the early hour.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said, taking a sip from his cup, “considering we’re inside.”

You sighed, your hormones taking over you as you leaned closer to him, speaking at a volume only he could hear. “Evidently, I just needed a reason to speak to you.”

Aegon shifted in his chair so he could see behind him. “And what would you need to speak to me for?”

“Speaking it not exactly what I need you for, Aegon, and you know it.”

Aegon took another sip. “I know not to what you refer.”

He tried to remain stoic, but you could see him holding back a smirk.

You began to turn away, “Very well, if you insist on forgetting, then I am sure that Aemond will be happy to satis-“

Aegon grabbed your wrist, and his features no longer had any hint of amusement. “I am rather sure he wouldn’t.” You knew any mention that his brother was better than him would immediately cause him to drop the wall he always had up.

“No, no, I can simply just ask-“

“You needn’t worry about doing such a thing. He wouldn’t be able to help you.”

You smiled. This is what you wanted. He left you hot and bothered, finally getting a taste of pleasure, and now you had him wrapped around your finger. You felt so empowered, so sensual, so powerful.

“And you believe yourself capable of satiating me?” you teased, completely ignoring the fact that you had in fact approached him to say that you needed him.

“Only I can,” he responded.

You pulled out of his grip and took residence by your husband’s side again, including yourself in the conversation he was having with two guests, as well as Heleana, who often stayed next to Aemond so that she didn’t have to do any of the talking.

When the meal was finished, you left arm-in-arm with your husband, who waited until you were out of view to shift in front of you. “How do you feel?”

Fuck. Does he know? How would he know?

“What?”

“How do you feel? It has been a fortnight, surely an early pregnancy would be somewhat present by now,” Aemond elaborated.

“Oh,” you took a sigh of relief, “I do not know, I do not feel much different.”

Aemond leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead. “That is alright, we still have time.”

You smiled at him as he turned around and left, off to attend to his daily duties as you retreated to your chambers.

You were not in your room for even an entire minute before there was nonstop banging at your door.

You swung the door open. “Gods, could you have possibly hit the door any harder?”

Aegon didn’t respond, he just stepped into your apartment and slammed the door behind him, gripping your arms and spinning you until you were flipped, and backing you up until your back was pressed against the door.

“Aeg-“

He didn’t let you speak. He pressed his lips against yours, and your hands instinctively held either side of his face as his hands found your hips, pressing himself into you. You whined at the sudden contact, which only encouraged Aegon to continue as he peppered kisses down your jawline to your neck.

He pulled away, locking his eyes with your own. “Is this what you wanted? You wanted me?” His hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head upward. “You want me to make you feel things Aemond can’t?”

You could feel his muscles tense as he spoke your husband’s name, but Aemond wasn’t the one here with you right now.

“Yes,” you replied, “but I do not wish to think of Aemond right now.”

“No? Not your husband?”

Aegon was trying to maintain his intensity, but deep down, he was still just a boy who needed to be told he was wanted.

“I only want you, Aegon.”

Aegon let out a breath he was subconsciously holding in. He kissed you again, this time softer, grateful for your words.

“Jump,” he whispered.

“Jump?” you clarified.

“Would you trust me?”

You jumped upward and Aegon moved his arms to hold up your legs, forcing them to wrap around his waist. You squealed at the feeling, scared he would drop you, but you were secure.

He backed away from the door and walked you over to the bed, your head resting on his shoulder as he did so.

He was being nice enough to you that you assumed he would guide you down or slowly lower you, but instead, he slammed you against the bed, your legs untangling from his waist as you hit the mattress.

You opened your mouth in playful offense. “Aegon!”

He shrugged his shoulders, crawling on top of you. “Yeah?”

“What do you mean, yeah? What if that broke the bed?”

“Darling, if the bed doesn’t break, then I didn’t do my job.”

That was the second time he called you darling, and you loved hearing such an affectionate name directed at you, especially from him. You wondered if he had ever called his whores any affectionate names. Was this even as big of a deal to him as it was to you?

Aegon could see you lost in your thoughts as he loomed over you. “Something on your mind?”

“Just nervous, is all,” you responded.

“We can stop if you wish to,” he said.

You looked into his eyes, and you were surprised to see how genuine he was. You could tell he didn’t want to stop, but it was a relief knowing you could stop this any time, even though you had no desire to do so.

“I do not wish to stop.”

That was all the consent Aegon needed to kiss you again, refusing to break away from you as his hands moved to pull up your dress, exposing your small clothes to him once again.

He pulled them down your legs without even looking, and immediately ran a finger between your folds. You whined into the kiss, your hips instinctively lifting to chase the feeling.

Aegon continued to kiss you as he moved his finger lower and lower, slowly pushing it into you. You gasped, and Aegon considered breaking the kiss, but he was addicted. He wasn’t going to pull away until you made him.

The feeling was strange and unfamiliar, but that didn’t mean it was bad. You relaxed your body and trusted Aegon, allowing him to continue touching you as he moved his finger in and out. You were squirming beneath him, but he didn’t care. He was just happy to have the privilege of seeing how your body reacted to him.

After a few moments he removed his hand from you, still kissing you, and pushed his breeches down until his cock hit his stomach.

He used your wetness, that was now on his fingers, to lubricate his cock as he lined his tip up with your entrance. Only then did he pull away from the kiss.

“Are you ready?” he asked, gentle and genuine.

“Yes,” you said, knowing that verbal confirmation was better than a nod.

Aegon kept his eyes on yours as he slowly began to push into you. This feeling was not new, but it was different than what you were used to. Your body was becoming to used to Aemond, molded to Aemond, and the change confused your body for a brief few moments before settling in.

“Can I move?” Aegon checked.

“Aegon, I trust you, there is no need to ask,” you spoke, nearly a whisper, your voice weak.

You meant every word. You were appreciative that Aegon was so attentive to your comfort, but you weren’t exactly sure what was to come, and you wanted him to just get on with it already.

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck as he began to move, fighting to maintain his composure and move slowly. He set a steady pace, but after a brief few minutes, you tangled your fingers in his hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands, and it drove him crazy.

His self control slipped, and he began to move faster inside of you, snapping his hips harder and harder. You instinctively tugged on his hair, and he lifted his head up to meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, truly not meaning to pull on his hair or hurt him.

“Fuck, don’t be,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, “I swear I’m trying to go easy on you, you’re just so, so-“

Aegon lost his sentence, gazing down at where your bodies met.

“I do not need you to go easy on me,” you whined.

Aegon did not confirm that you meant it, but instead dropped his head again, resting his head next to yours as he thrust harder, hitting your hips slightly upward with each stroke.

Your back arched and your head tilted further and further backward. This was not entirely unfamiliar to you, but it felt different simply because you were excited, and you knew Aegon wouldn’t let it end until your needs were satiated.

“Aegon,” you moaned, and the sound was natural, and so pretty falling from your lips.

Aegon lifted his head up again. “Do that again.”

You whimpered another, “Aegon,” as he fucked you hard, nearly pulling out entirely with each thrust before slamming himself back into you again.

The pace was excruciating, and you were sure your hips would bruise form the force of his own hitting them each time he bottomed out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear, only adding to your arousal as you held onto his shoulders.

Your cunt squeezed his cock, and he let out a small chuckle. “You like it when I talk to you?” he groaned.

You nodded your head up and down, incapable of speaking as you lost yourself in the pleasure. One of his hands snaked between your bodies and began to slowly run circles around your clit, forcing you to release a rather filthy moan.

“Good girl,” he cooed as your cunt squeezed him again.

The feeling of his cock in you mixed with the feeling of him touching you was too much, and the uncomfortable feeling began to rise in your stomach again.

You anxiously chased the feeling of the breakage, completely letting Aegon take control of your pleasure as the pressure dropped, your juices coating his cock as he removed his hand.

“Fuck, just like that,” he moaned, using the feeling of your orgasm to chase his own high.

He kissed you again as he came, his seed spilling inside of you. You didn’t care enough to stop him or have him climax elsewhere. Everything felt too good for you to care.

Aegon watched your bodies disconnect as he pulled himself out of you, falling onto the bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you spoke through shaky and tired breaths.

Aegon laughed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m thankful.”

“Your husband will be as well when you end up with child.”

You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. “I did not want to stop you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Aegon said, rolling on his side to be closer to you, “idiot wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between my child and his child anyway.”

“Enough about him,” you said, turning so that you were face-to-face with Aegon, “I’m here with you.”

Aegon leaned forward and kissed you softly, smiling as he pulled away and rested his head on the pillow.

[familyvideostevie]

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed. 

You’ve only been open for two hours. 

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns. 

Your coffee shop. 

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it. 

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works. 

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure. 

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand. 

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him. 

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired. 

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter. 

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember. 

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint. 

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush. 

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks. 

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on. 

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize. 

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question. 

You laugh. Joel looks pleased. 

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders. 

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot. 

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee. 

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him? 

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

__

Joel stops by again. 

And again. 

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron. 

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting. 

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying. 

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning.  When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped. 

“I’m honored,” he says. 

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window. 

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash. 

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask. 

He smirks. “Miss me?” 

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy. 

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck. 

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. 

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy. 

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise. 

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one. 

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw. 

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear. 

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him. 

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. 

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place. 

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says. 

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day. 

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags. 

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is. 

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.” 

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles. 

They both wave at you as they drive away. 

__

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted. 

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb. 

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing. 

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work. 

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk. 

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one. 

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus. 

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

__

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked. 

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering. 

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you. 

And you still barely know him. But you want to. 

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime? 

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back. 

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back. 

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.” 

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says. 

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually. 

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?” 

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.” 

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting. 

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says. 

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables. 

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate. 

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe. 

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel. 

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light. 

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[sirfrogsworth]

So... when conservative dorks called me a low T, soyboy cuck, it turns out they were accurately diagnosing me.

When you have CFS and Narcolepsy fighting each other inside your body, it is very hard to detect new symptoms from alternate maladies. But I've been in bed with a huge slump for the past 8 weeks and this just seemed much more intense and my brain has been way foggier than my normal CFS amount.

So on a whim, I asked my doctor to test my testosterone. It seems it has dipped quite low. And suddenly a lot of the symptoms I've been feeling make lot more sense. The poor sleep. The poor temperature regulation that was actually hot flashes. The exhaustion and brain fog.

It looks like I'm going to be needing some gender affirming care. But for me it will be covered by insurance and in no way threatened by bigotry. But hopefully my injections will help me feel good enough to fight for *everyone* to have continued access to this.

I'm scared and anxious. I worried about why this happened. I'm worried about side effects. The last time I tried testosterone was in my 20s and I just had constant boners. I'm too old and too tired to be dealing with that. Hopefully it will just be a normal amount of boners now that I am in my 40s.

I'm trying to manage my expectations. New medicines can be helpful but they can also introduce new problems and complications. But hopefully I will start feeling a lot better as I get treatment.

[ssentimentals]

Hiii! Would like to request for mingyu + 45 pleaseee. Thank you!

hi, love!💜 thanks for the request, hopefully you will like it!

45. kiss out of anger (kim mingyu)

'you're being insufferable.'

'me? who's the one with all the dramatics here?' mingyu throws both of his hands in the air, twirling around like some kind of ballerina to make his point.

you sceptically raise your eyebrow. 'yep. i'm the one with dramatics here.'

mingyu huffs and rolls his eyes, but settles against the couch comfortable, staring you down. honestly, you two've been going over this whole thing for the past two hours and you are very close to simply storming out of this room. the only reason of you staying put is because you know that mingyu won't let you go very far - he'll catch you and bring you back and will make you stay here until we both come to some kind of a conclusion. right now it looks impossible but mingyu is an optimist, so he tries again: 'listen, i'm asking for one thing. can't you just give in once?'

'mingyu, don't make it sound like i'm the tyran who never gives in to you. i said no, can't you just let it be? i'm tired of explaining the same thing over and over again.'

'well then explain once again, because i didn't get anything.' he crosses his arms over the chest and glares, making a whole show of 'i am staying here and not moving'. 'and while you're at it, maybe think that if i'm not getting it because you're not making any sense.'

deep breath. you take a deep breath and close your eyes, because staring at mingyu right now makes your desire to punch him in the face skyrocket. mingyu is such a 'let's solve it right now' guy, while you are 'i need time to think' girl and it's a miracle how you both stay together for such a long time despite this difference. and maybe this is what you need to focus on right now? that you both stayed together despite it and how this is not your first ever fight. there were many fights but you still stayed together and logically you know that this fight will dissolve too, but it's hard to stay calm at this exact moment. 'kim mingyu,' you call out in a tired voice, 'i think it's time we both take a break in this fight. you go to the kitchen, i'll stay here and how about we meet in an hour and come back to this topic again?'

mingyu pouts. 'thirty minutes.'

'one hour, mingyu.' you push strictly, glaring at him. 'is that too much to ask?'

'one hour is way too long,' he comments and god, he's still pouting. why your boyfriend is an overgrown child? why you are so hopelessly in love with him? 'okay, forty minutes. but we both stay here, i'm not going to the kitchen. what if you start crying? i need to be here.'

how mingyu manages to be both heart-wrenchingly endearing and annoying as fuck is beyond you. 'you're either going to the kitchen or i'm leaving this apartment, mingyu.'

'fine!' he stands up from the couch, obviously angry. 'fine! have it your way! i'm going to the kitchen!'

he stomps for dramatic effect and your can't help but smile a little at that. god, what a child. you love him so much. before moving to turn away, mingyu suddenly rushes towards you and kisses you soundly on the mouth, not letting you even take a breath.

'wha-'

'i love you,' he says angrily, frowning. 'you're pissing me off right now, but i love you. don't forget it. got it?' you nod dazedly. 'good. now i'm off to the kitchen. call me if you start crying.'

you weakly push on his shoulders, suddenly feeling like you're about to cry. 'i'm not gonna cry.'

'mhm.' mingyu rolls his eyes and walks away. 'tissues are on your left.'

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 7

(This is the second part posted on the same day! Make sure you didn’t miss 6!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

M!troll x f!reader

1.2k words (tw for mention/suggestion of assault)

Zen’jan’s secret left you reeling and without a plan you left the city, but is the wilds really any better?

————

All the air left your lungs at his words, you want to scream but could not even manage that.

“It is alright” Zen’jan said trying to reassure you while getting up and taking a step towards you, finger still bleeding and dagger still in hand, “You are safe here, I promise! Please just sit and listen to me” he took another step towards you and reached for your hand.

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed at him, finally finding your voice. The clawing panic was rising in your throat, threatening to strangle you into silence again.

You looked at the man in front of you, the man who had been taking care of you and watching over you, it was like he was a complete stranger all over again. A follower of the Shadows, and avatar of the God of Shadows!

He looked visibly hurt and took a step back, “I am so sorry, I know I should not have sprang this on you, but please just listen to me, to Tsov’ka” slowly he reached his hand back out to you.

“No! Leave me alone!” you scrambled away from the shrine, away from Zen’jan. You did not know where you were going, but you had to get away. The brighter lights of the other shrine rooms and then the daylight blinded you, but once more being in the light comforted you and shook the deep chill out of your bones.

You kept moving, putting as much distance between yourself and the shrines, and hopefully Zen’jan. Nowhere felt safe, not home, not anywhere in the city, no one to talk to.

Out of the city it was then. You passed under the main gates that lead out of the ravine and into the surrounding grasslands. A few times you came out here with Bira, you knew it was pretty safe, especially if you followed along the small mountain ranged that housed the city.

For hours you walked, at first occasionally seeing people or passing by farms until they got fewer and fewer until you truly were alone. You did not have a plan, all you knew was that going back to the city was not an option.

You walked until your legs nearly gave out, collapsing into a sobbing mess, leaning against one of the very few trees in the grasslands for a needed bit of shade. It was a bit before midday when you had left, now the sun had moved fairly far along its path and would start in set in the next hour or so.

You curled up, maybe a nap would help you clear you mind a little.

“What’s a human doing way out here?” came a man’s voice that jolted you awake.

“Isn’t she the Lord Admiral’s daughter? The one that got married off?” came a second voice.

“Lucky day if she is” said the first one again.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to check your surroundings. Several human men stood around you, still not aware you had woken up.

“Whatcha figure she’s doing out here?” asked another.

“Who knows, who cares. You know the reward on her if anyone gets her back to her father? Set for life” answered the first.

Your father? None of it particularly made sense, you were tired and dehydrated, but at least this could be your way out.

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she? Shame she’s been ruined by a fucking monster” another chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, I’d still fuck her” the second piped up.

“Isn’t the reward for either bringing her back or for making it look like the monsters killed her?” came one of the previous voices.

“It is, it’s anything they can use to righteously start this war again. Get her home and let her father spin some horrible tales, or just kill her now and make it look like the monsters turned on her” answered the first again.

The War. It had only ended a few months ago. The death toll on both sides had been horrific, though most of the fighting all happened on the seas and grasslands surrounding the city here, and you had seen just how bad it was.

“Seems like a lot of effort to bring her back, another mouth to feed and supplies are already low. I say have a little fun with her and the just kill her” one suggested.

Your heart was racing, suddenly things were going sideways very fast. There looked to be six or so of them and only one of you, not good odds. You weighed the chances of bolting, though you were not sure if you could get away fast enough.

“Fine, it’s all the same in the end. Grab her and bring her back to camp at least though”.

You decided to take your chances, it looked like either die for sure soon or at least try to live. With whatever strength you could muster you leapt up and booked it, only making it a few steps before you were grabbed by your wrist.

“Now where do you think you’re going, little thing? And how much did you hear?” asked the first. He was an imposing man, the quintessential bandit looking type, as were the others.

You screamed, loud as you could until he placed a hand over your mouth.

“Screaming isn’t going to do anything, you’re miles and miles from anyone else, and you’re going to give me a headache with all that. Someone, knock her out”.

Before you could register anything else you were hit with a blinding pain on the back of your head, then blackness.

You awoke with a splitting headache and to the muffled sounds of voices.

“…in a bit, where’s she going anyways? Her hands are tied” one said.

It was dark, you had been tossed in a tent with your hands tied and left alone for now. Tears streamed down your face. You ran from the shadows, you heeded the teachings of the Light, why didn't the Light protect you?

It was getting cold with the sun down now, you could see the shadows cast by the fire poking under the tent, but its warmth could not reach you.

“It’s fucking cold, isn’t it?” one of the men asked.

“Toss some more wood on the fire then” another replied.

“And it’s fucking dark” the first speaker said.

“It’s nighttime, of course it’s dark you f-” he was cut off.

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, then the world was plunged into inky black darkness.

Screaming and snarling pierced through the stillness. Bloodcurdling screams of dying men and the snarls of something else. You held you breath and squeezed your eyes shut while you tried to block out the sounds of death. Fear gripped you and you just hoped whatever was out there would miss you.

Moments dragged to minutes, to what felt like an eternity until nothing but silence remained and the glow of the fire returned. Cautiously you peered under the edge of the tent, nearly retching at the sight. Blood soaked the ground in shiny puddles, men lay in shreds, mauled to the point of being unrecognizable amongst the viscera.

“I am so sorry” came a familiar voice at the door of the tent.

You looked up to see a figured cloaked in shadows, but it was a familiar one.

“Zen?”

And once more the world was black.

Part 8

[emotionally-damaged-carrot]

Oscar Piastri x Male Reader

Losses

Sry for no updates, was a bit busy with stuff, but am here. Hope you lot enjoy, even if my writing is not what is used to be. Like Icarus, ambition leads to downfall.

Warning: might be sad

Enjoy!

I did not know the dierection I waa taking this in, I just went with the flow, hopefully it makes sense(?)

I look down at the casket where my mother lies, I was held by my dad so I could see.

"Is mommy going to wake up?"

"Not this time, Champ."

He said as he kissed the top of my head, my hair became wet as he trembled.

"Why?"

"She's going to live with God now, Y/n, and she will be waiting for us."

Our eyes met, mine filled with wonder and curiosity, childish whimsy. His wete full of sorrow and despair, akin to a world without light, it was dark, lifeless.

—

"Osc, please, what did I do?"

I asked him as I held his hand, trying to prevent him from walking away.

"It won't work out, Y/n."

"Why?"

"it just w-"

"But why? Was it something I did? Have you found someone else? Please, I need to know where you are going, I need to know you'll be safe, that I can that I- that you-"

My breathing became labored as I let go of his hand and sat down on the floor, struggling to breathe. When I let go of his hand, he immediately became concerned and turned to me, he squatted down.

"Are you okay?"

He asked but I couldn't speak, my breaths were shallow but it felt like it won't go out, my breathing was frantic and I became light headed.

"Come on, stay with me, breathe with me."

He said as he grabbed my hand and rested it over his chest so I could follow. I slowly began to calm down, but worry took over panic.

"P-please Osc, where?"

—

"Daddy?"

I looked down at the casket where my father lies, while I was held by my uncle.

"Is Daddy going to wake up?"

I asked my uncle.

"He's- uhmm, he won't."

"Why?"

"Because he is very tired, and he needs to rest up for some time."

"That's not what daddy told me when mommy went to live with God, Yestermonth."

"It's last month, Y/n, not yestermonth."

He broke down in tears, he struggled to wipe it off, as more kept flowing, like a hydra, the more heads to cut, the more head there will be.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, Y/n, you're so young, you're so very young, you are 4 years old. Yet you lost more than most anyone your age."

He kissed the top of my head, my hair felt wet afterwards. It's like dad.

"Is Daddy with mommy?"

—

It's been a few days since Oscar left, he still didn't tell me where he went. But I see his social medias, he's with a girl.

"You moved on so quickly, while I hurt in the past you don't look back to. Silently hurting while you live your life, with your new future."

I said to my myself as I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly my phone rang, and I looked at the I.D, it was him and it was a video call.

"Hello?"

I said as I answered the call.

"Hey, I heard you were Oscar's ex."

The camera panned to a woman who was moving suspiciously and moans were heard.

"I am he, why?"

"Just wanted to rub in tour face how good I am pleasing him."

The camera switched from the front to the back. Showing a naked Oscar who had his eyes closed and his hands on her hips, he was moaning and groaning and started to move his hips up and down.

"Bye bitch."

She let out a moan before hanging up, when the call ended, I laid in bed my phone still in my hand, and I was feeling something, it wasn't jealousy, it wasn't anger, nor was it sadness. I ponder more as my face remained neutral, I was feeling something but I don't know what. I wanted to react, to thrash around and be violent, but I couldn't. Is this what being dead inside is like? Feeling something yet nothing at the same time. In limbo with emptiness and feeling everything.

—

"Hi."

I said to the guy who was sitting on a table all alone in a café that was full.

"Would you mind if I sit here?"

I said as I pointed to the seat infront of him.

"Be my guest."

He smiled at me, he was gorgeous, he was handsome, fit and has the folden retriever vibes. His smile was perfect, his hair a mess of beautiful brown hair that complimented him. I couldn't held but stare and analyze him as I sat down.

"Oscar, Oscar Piastri."

He reached his hand out, with a friendly smile.

"Y/n."

I shook his hand.

"You have nice hands."

"Thank you."

I said sheepishly as I let go of his hand but he didn't let go of mine. The barista called out my name and I got up, he let go of my hand too.

"I noticed your finger has a ring mark."

He asked as I sat back down with my order.

"I lost it, like 3 days ago."

I took a sip of my coffee.

"Good thing, you won't be losing me anytime soon."

—

"I guess we are all destined to lose a few things, but I didn't expect to lose parts of my life."

.

[jellyfishoreo1206]

Tending (Sebastian Solace x Reader)

Notes: I am enjoying this way too much, I have work to finish yet here I am making sure my children are fed.

Credit goes to @/cafekitsune for the borders!

Picking the harvest was probably one of your favorite things this season. The soft sounds of nature that surround the garden as the sun lays its gentle rays upon the earth while picking the fruits and veggies give your mind a wave of peace. 

It's absolutely lovely.

Lifting that straw hat upon your head, you swiped off the sweat and dirt that had built up during your time outside. There are still traces of summer well into September, despite the dawns and evenings filling with a slight chill. 

Jack Frost sure is taking his time, huh?

There's a sense of pride that fills your very being to the brim as you examine the juicy Brandywine and Roma tomatoes that fill the wicker basket in your hold—not a single blemish or bruise on them, all are perfect! And they seem to be a lot bigger this year than the previous.

A sign of luck, you like to think it. If this year's harvest is bountiful, then the year will be prosperous.

A saying a dear relative always repeated whenever you helped out in their garden.

With a huff, you will your legs to stand straight from your crouched position, several of your joints popping from being in such a crouched stature for so long, heading over to the shaded porch where Painter resided to trade the full wicker basket for an empty one. 

And maybe some water, too. Harvesting is time-consuming, and your throat is parched.

"Hey Paints," The basket made a heavy *THUD* causing some of the items on the table to make a small jump from the force, Painter's monitor and tablet being no exception, giving the AI a small startle.

"I'm painting here." With a hiss, their narrowed eyes fixed themselves onto your sweat-riddled frame. You merely gave an apologetic smile, snatching the basket you came for and backing off before the AI started insulting you in various languages. . .

Again.

~~~

Clip. Clip. Clip.

Large scaly fingers gently picked the green beans off the bustling bush they hung from with care to not accidentally crush them, the wicker basket set beside him steadily filling up with the surprisingly immense abundance of the green capsules. He could probably make some carbonda for dinner tonight. . .

It probably won't be on par with Mama's, pero quién sabe?

Hopefully there's enough potatoes ready. . .

A feeling of excitement fills him at the thought of making one of his favorite dishes that he ate with enjoyment growing up and sharing it with you, his favorite person.

He could already imagine your look of delight when you take your first bite of the soup, smiling wide with glee and eyes wide with surprise as you go for your second bite, little hums of delight escaping your lips as you savor the taste.

Readjusting the straw hat that was slowly falling off his head with one of his hands, and slightly pulling back on his esca—grabbing the basket with the second— Sebastian moves on to the next patch in need of harvesting once he deemed there was no more beans to pick anymore—slithering his way towards where the red-potatoes were growing, being mindful to not accidentally smush his tail on any of the plants.

A soft breeze passes by, gently swaying the plants and trees along with it. It also made Sebastian suddenly aware of the sweat clinging to his tank top and hair, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of sweat and cloth sticking to his torso.

Though Sebastian is no longer human, he still maintains some of his most annoying human traits.

"Damn this summer heat."

~~~

Painter got a bit tired of the heat, as it was unfortunately messing with their hardware. Nothing too serious, but you wish for your friend to be comfortable, so you placed them back inside by a fan and a window.

Well, now would probably be a good time to get some water.

Swinging open the screen door with your hip, you walk back into the garden refreshed and with a new mission in mind, with two ice-cold glasses of water in hand as you survey your surroundings to find where your lover is in the garden.

It doesn't take much looking, as you spot him slithering towards the back porch with a full basket as he fusses about with his shirt, frustrated mutters slipping out every so often the closer he gets.

With a smile, you call out to him, relishing in the way his head snaps up to meet your gaze, a look of tenderness overtaking his face once he approaches.

"Mi Amor~" Once he was close enough, he used his two free hands to wrap themselves around your waist, settling the basket full of harvest down on the table next to you—nuzzling his face into your hair as he breaths your scent in, the tension that was once present in his shoulders now ebbing away.

You could practically hear the loud purring resonating within his chest the longer he held you, the low vibrations resonating throughout your whole body.

Ah, your little fishy kitty.

Unfortunately, you don't wish to spill the water, so you push him back a few inches with your elbow—though his hands now rest upon your hips, rubbing small circles as he fixes you with a coy smile.

"Hi baby," Standing on the tips of your toes, you press a kiss against his cheek, letting out an exaggerated 'Muah!' before pulling away, handing him his glass, "-thought you would've wanted something cool to drink."

"It's much appreciated, my dear." With a grateful squeeze of his hands, he brings the glass to his lips as he downs the water quickly, Adam's apple bobbing with every swallow; the glass emptied in seconds as he lets out a sound of delight, his tail thumping softly at the wooden floor boards of the porch.

Placing the empty glass on the table beside you, he flashes you with that handsome smile you loved oh so very much, his sharp teeth adding to the charm. Oh GOD DAMN. You could feel the beat of your heart fluttering rapidly within your chest as you looked into his eyes, full of love and adoration.

Those very same eyes looking at you.

Is it getting hot out here, or is that just you?

"Thank you, Starfish. If I stayed any longer out here I probably would've dried up!" He jokes, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins, adding to his gorgeous features.

. . .The sudden urge to smother him in kisses is very strong.

Quickly snapping out of your starstrucked spell, you replied with a joking tone as well, "Oh, you poor thing~!" With a playful pinch to his cheek, you give a gentle tug and wiggle before letting go, not without Sebastian sticking his tongue out in playful distaste.

"I'll make sure to water you if that ever happens," Embracing him once again, you nuzzle yourself the best you can into the crook of his neck, breathing in his citrus yet woody musk, "-my Little Froggit."

A few beats of silence pass by, before the both of you laughed aloud at the absurdity of words that has tumbled from your mouth. His shoulders are shaking as he attempts to shush his laugher, hand flying to his mouth to further contain them from slipping out, but it was no use. What felt like hours when it was merely seconds, the sound of laughter finally winded down—the both of you left breathless, only a quiet chuckle here and there could be heard as the atmosphere calmed around the two of you.

The two of you merely stood on the porch as you settled into comfortable quiet as your surroundings filled it with natures tune.

Seconds passed, eventually turning into minutes, then rolling into hours.

The sun hung low in the sky, making it through the last bit of his long trek down as it climbed lower and lower along the welkin, shadows elongating as the colors in the sky changed, the tune of the forest now changing as the sun dipped lower against the horizon—shining his last rays of light upon the soil of the earth before being overtaken by the moon and the stars.

The moon may not have been full this night, but she still showered the land below with her soft light as the woods became alive. The trees echoed with the sounds of the nocturnal, from the hauntingly beautiful howls of the wolves to the playful yips of the foxes. From within the trees, you could see the faint light of the fireflies luminescence bodies within the dark.

With a tired huff, you leaned more of your weight into Sebastian, sleep gently ebbing away at your brain as your eyelids drooped lower and lower. How long were we out here for? You try to think of when the two of you went out into the garden, but it seems to fade away as your mind slowly turns sluggish; craving a long needed rest.

"Tired?" Sebastian voice seems to be a lot closer to your ear, a pleasant warmth filling your mind as if you ate the smoothest of ambrosia and the sweetest of honey, nudging you closer to the land of dreams.

"Mhm. . ."

"Let's get you to bed, yeah?" The sound of movement met your ears as the floor below you disappears, now cradled within his arms as he sneaks into the house.

"But we haven't ate yet. . . or showered" You mumbled a protest as a yawn interrupts your sentence mid-way, attempting to climb out of his arms, but to no avail as he merely held you closer to his chest.

"I'll wake you up to make sure you eat and shower. Okay?"

". . .Mkay."

"Good,"He opens the door to your shared room, "-now let's get you ready for bed." Sebastian places you on the large bed with care as he slithers over to the dresser, picking out a pair of sweats and one of your favorite sleeping shirts before coming back to the bed. With some trouble, he helps peels off your dirty clothes, then handing you the clean ones before tucking you in bed.

Everything is hazy, your eyes are barely open. Your body feels so heavy with exhaustion, muttering out a small 'love you', to your lover before sleep finally took over. Transporting you to the land of dreams.

"Sleep well, cariño." With a kiss to your head, Sebastian slips out the bedroom with caution, carefully closing the door shut once the last bit of his tail makes it through. He listens to any shuffling from your side of the door, and relaxes when he doesn't hear any, only your breathing.

Now, let's make carbonda, shall we?

Last Part, Next Part (?)