#i vaguely remember the first one and eternity code
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I actually was in the Artemis Fowl fandom, insofar as I was able to be in any fandom, when I was in high school... but there were only I think four books out at that point.
#i started with eternity code and then me and my friend did some scurrying to get hold of the other three so we could read them#might also be misremembering the number#okay just looked up the list because i was curious#it looks like they were up to opal deception when i read eternity code and then lost colony and the graphic novel came out my senior year#RIGHT after i had swapped my interest to something else#so while i read it i didn't internalize it the way i did the other four at the time (and couldn't get hold of the graphic novel)#i also don't remember what arctic incident and opal deception even are#i vaguely remember the first one and eternity code#maybe i SHOULD reread#also i do have COPIES of the books up to opal deception because i grab them at used book sales when i can#because i knew i'd want to circle back around#but all of my books are in storage right now#so they're not doing me any good there#but i DO have a copy of eternity code that i picked up at goodwill several weeks ago#because i thought i might like to reread it again#because it is the one i have the most fond memories for#partly because of the butler incident#...okay mostly because of the butler incident#me reading the butler incident at sixteen years old: boy i sure hope this doesn't awaken anything in me
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Phantom Code Alien Romulus | iii
wc: 1.2k a/n: Just a heads-up! This mini-series was originally a one-shot but ended up longer than expected. So once I post the final chapter (when Andy chases Navarro and Bjorn after the facehugger incident), that will be the end of the Phantom Code series. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!
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You were in the middle of your shift when it happened.
The hum of the machinery was a familiar comfort, the routine maintenance tasks performed almost second nature by now.
Suddenly without warning, you were called to report to a meeting. It was brief, no explanation given. Just a directive to come immediately.
And even though the abruptness of the call made you uneasy, you pushed the feeling aside. It was probably just a routine briefing, nothing more.
It wasn't until you arrived at the designated room that you realized something was very, very wrong.
Bjorn was already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. You didn't say anything to him, and he didn't speak to you.
You noticed a young girl sitting off to the side, barely a teenager.
She was too young to be working in the mines, and yet, here she was: her wide eyes darting between you and Bjorn.
You recognized herâshe was supposed to start her training soon, but hadn't officially begun working yet.
Why she was here only made the situation even more unsettling.
The three of you exchanged uneasy glances, wondering what was going on. Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last.
Until finally, an official walked in. The man's face was solemn, he didn't bother with introductions or small talk.
Eyes swept over the three of you before speaking, his voice so flat it sent chills down your spine. "There was an accident in Sector 7 today. A gas leak."
Your heart sank. Sector 7....
That was where your father had been working. The knot of dread in your stomach tightened.
You wanted to believe it wasn't as bad as it sounded, but the look on the official's face told you otherwise.
"The leak spread rapidly," the official continued, his tone grim. "The android supervisor for that division on-siteâModel HY-471âmade the order to seal off part of the sector to contain it. In doing so, three miners were trapped inside... and sacrificed to save the rest of the team."
The first name was your father's. It hit you like a physical blow, the breath leaving your lungs as you tried to process what you'd just heard.
The other names barely registeredâBjorn's mother, and Marcus Harland, another miner you vaguely knew.
You felt like you were floating outside of your own body, watching everything unfold from a distance.
The young girl crumpled to the floor, her uncontrollable sobs tearing through the otherwise silent room.
You saw the color drain from Bjorn's face as he stared blankly ahead. He didn't say a word, didn't move, as if the news had frozen him in place.
The rest of the meeting was a blur. You didn't remember leaving the room, didn't remember walking out of the building.
It wasn't until you stepped into the cold night air that the world started to come back into focus. The streets were in full movement, thrumming with life as if yours hadn't just ended.
You took a few steps, your body moving slow and mechanical as if on autopilot.
Shoulders of passersby bump into you, jostling your frame, but you barely feel it. You just need to keep moving, to do something...anything, other than stand there.
Staring at the ground as you walk, a pair of shoes came into view. It was Bjorn.
His face was blank, his nose raw from the cold or from holding back tearsâmaybe both. His steps were slow, almost mindless, like he didn't know where he was going.
When your eyes met, there was no need for words. You both understood.
You fell into sync, walking side by side in silence for what felt like eternity. It wasn't until you neared your homes did Bjorn suddenly stop.
His shoulders began to shake, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to hold back.
You hesitate for a moment before stepping closer, reaching out to him. The moment your hand touched his arm, it was like something inside him broke.
Bjorn fell to his knees as he finally let go of everything he had been holding back. He buried his face into your shoulder, his body wracked with sobs as he clung to you for support.
You held him tightly as your own tears surfaced, the loss of your father hitting you with a force that left you breathless.
"I-I don't know what to do," Bjorn choked out, his voice barely audible between his tears. "She's gone... m-my m-mom's gone..."
"I know," you whispered, your own voice trembling as you try to stay calm. "I know, Bjorn. I'm so sorry."
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, your arms wrapped around him as he poured out his heart.
It was a sight to many who considered it a regular day; no one stopped to console or empathize, instead just continuing with their own lives.
When Bjorn's sobs finally began to quiet, you gently pulled back with comforting hand on his shoulder.
"You'll get through this," you said softly, though the words felt hollow in your mouth. "I know you will..."
Bjorn nodded, though his eyes were still filled with a sadness that seemed too deep for words. He didn't say anything, just looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and something elseâsomething you couldn't quite place.
The rest of the walk home was quiet, both of you lost in thought. When you finally reached your door, you hesitated, turning to Bjorn one last time.
"If you ever need to talk..."Â you began, but he cut you off with a nod.
"I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you." With that, he turned and walked away, his figure blending into the crowded street.
In the days and weeks that followed, you found yourself slipping deep into a depression you couldn't seem to escape from.
It was a struggle to get out of bed each morning, to find the energy to face the world. You rarely went out unless you had to.
Work had became your only salvation; a place where you could lose yourself in the monotony of tasks that required no thoughtâno emotion.
The grief was always there. It lurked at the edges of your mind, threatening to pull you under if you let your guard down.
What happened that night was never brought up, the vulnerability that had been shared left unspoken.
But even so, something shifted between you and Bjorn. He seemed to act...differently.
He wasn't as brash with you, not as quick with his teasing. There was a gentleness inn the way he spoke to you, something that hadn't been there before.
Still the same impulsive and headstrong person, there was now an undertone of care in his actions toward you.
Yeah he still teased you, but it was differentâless biting, more affectionate, almost protective.
And the way he looked at you; at times where no one paid attention, the softest lidded eyes would stare your way.
Bjorn (unbeknownst to you) had even began to badger Rain with questions about you, trying to learn more about the person who had comforted him in his darkest hour.
He may not fully understand these feelings: the grief of losing a parent, a newfound hatred for synthetics, the hope and excitement at getting out of this mining hellhole.
But one thing he did know for sure...there, in that whirlpool of emotions, was a budding crush for you.
#knayee traveler#knayee miniseries#andy alien romulus#alien romulus#alien franchise#tyler alien romulus#kay alien romulus#bjorn alien romulus#rain alien romulus#rain carradine#andy android#andy alien romulus x reader#alien romulus reader insert#alien romulus fanfic#machine x reader#one sided love bjorn#bjorn x kay#rain x tyler#navarro alien romulus#romulus spoilers#alien spoilers#reader insert#x reader#alien x reader#xenomorph#alien romulus x reader#weyland yutani#alien romulus spoilers#bjorn x reader#david jonsson
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What is your opinion on the DRDT time loop theory? If you do have any thoughts on it, what do you think Mai, the Teacher & the past kg/(assumption) the altdrdt kg have to do with it? (Mai and Teacher often exist in proxy to evidence for this theory & the 'past killing game' & the teacher are clearly closely connected.)
Alright, so this one is going to be a bit more of a challenge than usual because, as I confirmed, the âDRDT Time Loop Theoryâ doesnât exactly⊠exist. I mean, it definitely does, because you know what it means, and I know what it means, and Iâm willing to bet that many other people who will encounter this post also know what it means. But, everyoneâs understanding of it is pretty vague and scattered because no one has ever written it out before. Other than kind of this 3 minute segment of a video by Ocean Unknown (which never even says the words âtime loopâ directly, it just discusses a major piece of evidence for the theory), as well as this work-around by @/1moreff-creator, there isnât any document I can read or video I can watch to base my opinion off of.
Therefore, this leaves me in the position of having to establish the original scripture for what the DRDT Time Loop Theory is, and then give my thoughts on how plausible it might be. Naturally, this may result in my answers having some obvious bias to them in one way or anotherâ either that I will misrepresent some evidence because I donât think the idea is plausible, or that I will become convinced of the theory because itâs tailored to exactly what I think makes the most senseâ but, no matter! Somebody had to establish this someday, and Iâm honored that you regard my opinion highly enough to task me as the one to do it. Here we go!
I usually like to establish a sort of premise to each of my theories near the beginning, because I think it provides a good structure through which people can pace themselves and know what to expect. For this theory, I think it will make the most sense to create sections based on the basic questions: who, what, when, where, why, and how. Although, not necessarily in that order. Or rather, definitely not in that order, because I know where Iâm going to start.
What?
âCause, like, what? What is the time loop theory? Thatâs where we should start.
As far as Iâm aware, the time loop theory is mainly based on the combination of two different pieces of evidence. The first hails from DRDTâs About Page. In the same fashion that people found each characterâs hidden quotes on their profiles, you can find a long monologue in the code of the text. Iâll copy it here for convenience:
âYou donât understand, do you? I used to be like you. I barely remember, but I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people. I know what youâre going through. Youâre going to hold on as long as you have, with hope that you can make it out of here with everyone. Then youâre going to despair. That lasts a while, too. Then youâll get bored. Like me. And youâll wish you were still suffering. Anything else is better than boredom. I wish I could feel something, anything else, other than being bored. Iâm stuck in here for eternity, and I know everything that could possibly happen. I know how everyone reacts to a murder, what makes people turn to despair, what fills people with hope and make them survive until we all run out of food and starve to death. I wish I could feel terrified, or afraid, or angry. But I canât anymore. I donât feel anything at all except boredom. Do you understand, Teacher? This is why Iâm letting you suffer as long as possible. Because itâs better than the alternative. Iâm sorry. I donât envy you. Youâll understand eventually.â
Because this quote is found on the About page, we canât tie it to any one character in particular like we can for the secret quotes. Many people suspect this quote may have come from DRDTâs mastermind, but we obviously donât know who that is, either. To help us establish the speakerâs character, letâs see what we can infer about them from what theyâve said.
Firstly, we know that this character has been through a lot. They started off caring, then turned to cruelty, yet wound up feeling nothing but boredom in the end. Notably, however, this is only the way that this character sees themselfâ how kind or how cruel they were is subject to their own perspective. Personally, I donât think that the speaker is as dead inside as they claim to be. The fact that they wind up relating themselves to âTeacherâ and taking actions to minimize Teacherâs suffering proves that they havenât fully given up on humanity or caring for others.
The speaker also seems to think pretty highly of themself. They begin the passage by assuming that Teacher couldnât possibly understand what theyâve gone through, and see themself as a tortured Atlas bearing the weight of all knowledge on their shoulder (âI know everything that could possibly happenâ). The whole âthis is for your own goodâ mentality also shows them as somewhat patronizing and commandeering.
As for some of the more physical details, while itâs not 100% confirmed, it seems pretty clear that the speaker is or was in a killing game. A murder can occur pretty much anywhere that there are two people, but âhow everyone reacts to a murderâ really makes it seem like the speaker is in a place where murder is expected. And then, there are the obvious references to hope and despair, which we all know are super killing-game-coded words.
The phrase that I find most interesting in the About Page quote (APQ) is âuntil we all run out of food and starve to death.â The speaker including themselves in a âweâ means that they do identify as part of the group that is stuck in a killing game. Therefore, we can learn that 1) the speaker does not have a secret way to exit the killing game facility and/or time loop, and 2) the speaker is in a physical space, not a metaphysical one. Theyâre just as vulnerable to starvation (and possibly being killed?) as anyone else. This could be important when it comes to establishing how the time loop came to be and what kind of time loop it is.
And then, of course, thereâs Teacher.
Due to the âwants to become the perfect teacherâ tagline, many people have come to assume that the Teacher that the APQ refers to is a member of the unnamed fangan (which I call altDRDT) cast. Specifically, that brown-and-red-haired gentleman in the middle. This theory was basically confirmed by the second of the three Christmas 2023 comics DRDTdev posted.
Furthermore, one of the few images we have of him is with a piece of chalk and chalkboard.
We know from the altDRDT FAQ page that Teacher uses he/him pronouns (along with âSoundwave,â âXF,â âDandelion,â âScale,â âBullet,â and âIceâ), which is important in potentially connecting him to the scholarly âhimâ that Min mentioned in A History of Hopeâs Peak.
Therefore, the âTeacherâ that the speaker is talking to is very likely to be altDRDTâs Teacher. However, I do want to take a moment to provide a bit of a counterargument. I donât doubt that our close-eyed compatriot is the Ultimate Teacher. However, I also donât want to assume that the person whoâs trying to become the perfect teacher has to be the same as the Ultimate Teacher, despite the obvious throughline. For example, couldnât the speaker of the APQ be trying to teach their beliefs to Teacher, searching for the perfect way to get him to understand what needs to be done? I still think that the Teacher that the speaker refers to is probably the altDRDT character, but I wanted us all to reach that conclusion while considering whatâs outside the box.
Regardless, thereâs clearly a lot to consider here. The people who first discovered this quote thought so as well, and started looking for answers by connecting it to things weâve already seen in DRDT. The most popular connection comes from the prologue, Veronikaâs introduction in particular. Remember when she rants to Teruko and Xander about the (fictional) book Forever Dead? It goes by pretty quick, but her summary is quite interesting:
And thus, the exact phrasing of the âtime loopâ began. Forever Dead touches upon a lot of the same plot points that the speaker brings up in the APQ. People die, the main character transforms from invested to bored, and straddles the border between relatable and sinister.
We also learn a bit more about the speaker and what happened/will happen to him. He identifies as a boy (who uses he/him pronouns), heâs impaled by metal spikes and left to die at some point, and he manages to apologize for âeverything he did,â though apparently only through some level of force. âEverything he didâ is interestingly vagueâ is that implying that the boy was the cause of the time loop, or just that he was apologizing for the terrible things he did as a result of his bored insanity? What forced him into the apology if he was âleft alone?â These characteristics may apply to the APQ speaker as well, under the assumption that the boy and the speaker are allegories for the same character.
So, those are the two main pieces of information that Iâm aware of that lead people to devise the time loop theory. In case itâs important, Iâve also compiled some of the instances I could remember offhand of DRDT characters bringing up the cyclical nature of humanity and how things never change.
Any of these charactersâ ideas about what âalways has to happenâ could be supported and/or challenged in the future by a time loop.
I also know that some people like to bring up the comments section portion of Literature Girl Insane (conveniently written over the words âthe world wonât change!â) as evidence of DRDT being stuck in a time loop. I could explain why I donât think thatâs the case, but FF already did that as part of their giant LGI analysis video (which I will continue to recommend). I donât think I can really put it any better than they did, so I encourage you to watch that section of the video at least if youâre curious as to why I wonât be including this as evidence.
And now, for a summary of what weâve learned so far, the basics of the Time Loop Theory. Due to the About Page Quote, the summary of Forever Dead, and references to cyclical behavior, some believe that the characters in the DRDT killing game are experiencing a time loop. The speaker of the APQ, who is possibly the mastermind, is likely the only one of the sixteen students who is aware of this. When the loop began, they put their all into trying to achieve the best ending. However, over time, they became more bitter, first turning to wreaking havoc before succumbing to apathy. They have somehow captured âTeacher,â the protagonist of altDRDT, in an inescapable state of suffering, in order to teach him a lesson about how foolish it is to continue to care about others. Theyâre a bit of a cynical know-it-all, but their dedication to correcting Teacherâs behavior proves that they havenât fully given up on humanity.
Basic facts, established! However, this is still pretty vague, and there are plenty more details to sort through. How about we start withâŠ
How?
Because even among people who believe there is a time loop, there are many definitions of what a time loop can mean. In this section, Iâll aim to figure out which I think is the most likely in two broad categorization systems.
Is the time loop meta or non-meta?
A meta time loop would be one that is directly caused by the player/viewer interacting with the property, breaking the fourth wall. For DRDT, this would mean something along the lines of âevery time you rewatch an episode of Despair Time, the characters are forced to relive the events of the day in an eternal loop, and theyâve started to wise up about it.â Conversely, a non-meta time loop would exist in the plot regardless of what its audience is doing, and be caused by a force that exists within the story. âAfter Teruko accidentally broke Edenâs favorite grandfather clock, Teruko was cursed to repeat her worst day over and over again.â
DRDT has made some fourth wall-breaking jokes before, such as when MonoTV directly references YouTube or the narrator tells the viewer to like the video and subscribe to give Teruko power. Because of this, itâs really tempting to think that DRDT is going for a meta time loop. However, given the actual text we have to work with, I think itâs more likely that weâre looking at a non-meta time loop. Remember how we learned that the APQ speaker exists in a physical space and not a metaphysical one? Focusing on the physical space of their environment and living conditions is drawing attention to how the world is real to them, not just a collection of pixels flattened into a video file. The Forever Dead boy also had to âapologize for what he did,â which might imply that the character was responsible for the time loop, not the audience.
Most of all, though, itâs the concept of âsurviv[ing] until we all run out of food and starve to deathâ that makes me think that the time loop is not meta. Why? Because it makes it sound like there are different possible endings out there. If the time loop was caused by me going back and repeatedly rewatching the CharWhit FTE, thereâs only one way that that FTE can start, and one way it can end. No matter how many times I make the characters loop that interaction, thereâs only one version of that episode posted to YouTube. The APQ speaker makes it clear that they, as a character, attempted multiple things and achieved different results with them until they exhausted all viable possibilities and grew bored. I can only make the characters do one thing, but the characters within the story can, in theory, do whatever they want.
Really, a lot of it boils down to the medium in which DRDT is told. A lot of what I âknowâ about time loops comes from watching theory videos about Undertale and Deltarune. I wonât spoil either of those games for those who havenât played them, but in Undertale, the playerâs input is directly related to the time travel elements that the characters experience. This connection works really well because Undertale is a video game. Video games are a fantastic medium for meta commentary because player input is required for the game to function. The player can make choices of where to go or who to trust that have an impact on the story, which then makes it easy for the story to turn back towards the player and question the choices they made. DRDT, however, is a video series, not a game like the original Danganronpa. Its formatting would make calling the viewerâs impact into question, because weâve hardly done anything other than want to watch the show. We have no impact on the direction of the plot.
Of course, Iâm not trying to say that itâs impossible for anything other than a video game to tackle meta subjects. DRDTdev should be allowed to tell a meta fangan story without being forced into the life of a programmer. However, with all these elements combined, I think itâs more likely that DRDTâs time loop would be a canonical, non-meta one. Because of this, our follow up questions will be based around how the time loop could have formed in canon.
Is the time loop magical or scientific in origin?
A magical time loop could be something that appears as some sort of spell, legend, or artifact, such as the example with Teruko and the grandfather clock that I provided above. I would also count time loops that just appear out of nowhere in the âmagicalâ category. One of the most famous time loop stories in modern Western cinema, Groundhog Day, could be thought of as a magical time loop, because the main character entered a time loop as a repercussion for his rotten personality seemingly out of nowhere. A scientific time loop would be the consequence of pushing the boundaries of science, whether purposefully (âVeronika, after researching the fourth dimension, put the killing game in a time loop so that she could experience its thrills foreverâ) or accidentally (âTrying to bring Ellie back to life, Charlesâ time machine malfunctioned and trapped him in a time loopâ).
Honestly, Iâm really torn on this one. That may come as a surprise to some of youâ how on earth could DRDTâs time loop be magical? The answer is our lovely protagonist herself, Teruko Tawaki. If Terukoâs luck, a supernatural force, created the time loop, then itâs magical in origin. Itâs already been hinted that this could be the case through Terukoâs âyou all have the misfortune of being âcharactersââ speech. Does Teruko know how stories like this work out because sheâs looped through them before? If Mai is a lucky student, the time loop being a result of her luck or the combination of her and Terukoâs luck would also be magical. Assuming that luck was something that they were born with, that is.
However, it would also be very easy for DRDTâs time loop to be scientific in origin. The mysterious company XF-Ture Tech is clearly being set up for some kind of relevance down the road, which could be a science experiment gone wrong that resulted in a time loop. This could even be the thing that âUnnamed Studentâ (Mai) asked Xander to dig into.
That might seem like a bit of a leap, given that Mai is asking Xander to look into Hopeâs Peak, not XF-Ture Tech. However, we already know that XF Tech had a vested interest in Hopeâs Peak through their sponsorship of Min.
Personally, I donât think that the XF Tech CEO would have had much personal interest in Min outside of her skill/potential, based on how Min describes him as a stranger. That means that the CEOâs goals must have been to sponsor the future Ultimate Student. The entire Ultimate Contest may have existed just because XF Tech wanted to get an insider within the Hopeâs Peak system. Thereâs evidence to show that Hopeâs Peak and XF Tech may have been collaboratingâ Mai asks why Hopeâs Peak would even announce an Ultimate Contest, and Min answers from the perspective of the prospective student. But, why would Hopeâs Peak want an Ultimate Student obtained through that method/at that time? If Min really did poison the competition to win, the entire Contest may have been rigged from the beginning to get an XF representative into the East Class.
Because of all this, Iâm inclined to say that DRDTâs time loop is both magical and scientific in origin. Hereâs what Iâm thinking: 13-27 years ago, XF-Ture Tech signed some sort of deal with the new Hopeâs Peak Academy that would allow them to look into students and their talents, much like how the original Hopeâs Peak Academy was studying the origins of luck. HPA agreed for the money, while XF Tech believed that the partnership would help them sell better products/services, either through getting the first scoop on up-and-comers in the field or by scientifically developing talent rather than allowing it to occur naturally. That might sound really similar to what already happened in DRDTâs canon universe with the Kamukura project, but, hey, maybe part of the whole âtime loopâ motif would be history repeating and man not being able to shake the desire to play God.
Anyways, when they made this deal (or potentially a little while after it), they also decided that it would be good if XF Tech could be directly represented by one of the students in a future class. I canât say exactly why they wanted this to be the case, but maybe HPA and XF Tech were either looking for a good excuse to go public with their relationship, or they knew that something or someone relevant would come to pass through the school in ~13 years, and wanted a man on the inside. Therefore, HPA put out a pre-rigged Contest searching for the Ultimate Student, which was destined to be won by whoever the XF Tech CEO determined was the best candidate. The CEO chose Min, and spent 13 years coaxing her into the perfect grateful, insecure, and study-focused representative out there.
Whether it was their goal from the start or a new development that caught their eye, XF Tech took particular note of Teruko and her strange luck, and wanted to research it. Teruko, who was desperate for support, let them study her, and eventually came to trust that they had her best interests at heart. But, over time, they pushed it too far. As some sort of reaction to their scientific prodding, Terukoâs luck magically created a time loop in an attempt to prevent XF Tech from bothering her any further.
Cool fanfic, right? While Iâm aware that there are a lot of holes and leaps in logicâ and weâll get to thoseâ I do think thereâs reason to believe that Teruko is at the epicenter of the time loop for one reason or another. As we were all made aware of at the very beginning of the seriesâŠ
⊠ending the killing game is correlated to killing Teruko Tawaki. Therefore, this person at least believes that the end of the killing game is related to the end of Terukoâs life. So, if the time loop is also related to the killing gameâ which it is, as established by the APQâ then the end of Terukoâs life would also possibly cause the end of the time loop. To quote a wise wizard, itâs maaaagic. The theory that Terukoâs secret is âthe killing game is all your faultâ also fits here perfectly.
So, itâs not as big of a leap in logic as it might seem like on the surface, even if itâs still basically my audition for being the Ultimate Jumper. However, now that the basics of the theory were mostly established in the âWhat?â section, I think I have a bit more room to inject my own thoughts and theories in here. I canât draw any conclusions without making some guesses, and I canât assess what the hell is going on without any conclusions. Call what follows specifically âAcciraxâs Time Loop Theoryâ if you think Iâm starting to veer too far off track from whatâs plausible. I promise Iâm still going to try to use actual, textual evidence whenever I can, though.
At any rate, there are still a lot of holes. Most notably, why would a time loop that Terukoâs luck created contain a killing game in it? Was she already in a killing game when the time loop began, or did her luck create the killing game? Weâll talk about that a bit more in the next section, along with some other stuff.
When?
Before getting back to the question of why a killing game would happen in this time loop, I think itâs important to establish some of the basic facts that the âWhen?â section might imply. Such as, âwhat events occurred before the time loop started?,â and, âwhat events occurred after the time loop started?â Thatâs a funny question to ask with regards to time loops specifically, but there are still things we can piece together.
Firstly, we can be pretty confident that the canonical properties Trigger Happy Havoc, Goodbye Despair, Ultra Despair Girls, and End of Hopeâs Peak happened before DRDT. (V3 is, as usual, so weird that I have no clue if DRDT will attempt to explain it as part of the canonical timeline or not.) The Tragedy was confirmed as canon to the DRDT universe by Veronika in Chapter 2 Episode 2, and Min/Mai in A History of Hopeâs Peak.
If the Tragedy and Hopeâs Peak Academy are canon, then I see no reason why those four games, which all relate to the Tragedy, wouldnât be as well. Thereâs also the mysterious âMs. Naegiâ thatâs listed in the credits of Literature Girl Insane, and Terukoâs reference to âa past killing game.â
Although the event Teruko mentions could be any killing game with Monokuma as its mascot, I would suspect that she is specifically mentioning the Hopeâs Peak Academy Killing Game of THH here, as it was the first and the one that was widely broadcast. Notably, although Veronika knows a lot about the Tragedy and by all accounts should be super into the killing games, she doesnât remember another killing game happening before. That leaves us with two basic options. 1) Teruko had access to secret knowledge about the killing games that the general public didnât, or, 2) something about the creation of this killing game caused Veronika (and likely the other non-Terukos as well) to forget about the HPA killing game. I would lean towards the second, given that the broadcast of the HPA killing game and Junkoâs involvement in it were such major historical events that I would really expect that society wouldnât forget about them so easily.
Another huge piece of information comes from the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A.
From this question, we know that a person who is 80-ish years old was old enough to be alive during the Tragedy itself. In THH, Makotoâs orientation letter is dated to the release year of the game, 2010 (2014 for the English release), which means that the Tragedy probably started in 2011. We can approximate, then, that DRDT takes place sometime around 2090, give or take a few decades depending on how long the Tragedy lasted and at what point with regards to it Duke was born. Not super important to this theory, but it is interesting.
So, the Tragedy probably happened around 80 years before the time loop began. We also know that the school that Min, Mai, and Xander attend, which hosts the East Class, was probably founded ~27 years before the time loop began, because that trio is part of East Class 27. Interestingly, this means that the new American Hopeâs Peak was founded ~50 years after the Tragedy. Thatâs a fairly long amount of time.
As for events that more directly preceded the time loop, I think that both Bonus Episodes would have happened before the killing game, as well as Terukoâs flashback about Mai in Chapter 1. Xander, Min, and Mai attended HPA before encountering the killing game/time loop, despite no one in DRDT remembering ever going to HPA. Rose says in the prologue that itâs been a year or two since the HPA entrance ceremony should have happened, which means that the students probably attended HPA for at least a year before the killing game started. The chalkboard in the classroom that Min and Mai sit in also advertises Spring Break, which, in American schools, is pretty close to the end of the typical school year. Thatâs more evidence that they spent a considerable amount of time attending HPA.
Now, for events that happened after the inception of the time loop. The only thing I think we know of for sure is the events of the DRDT killing game. That would be part of the time loop, infinitely recurring after the point at which the loop began. Iâm also hesitantly going to call altDRDT a sequel instead of a prequel⊠but, uh, weâll get more into my overall theories on that later.
Okay, now back to why a loop Terukoâs luck created would have had a killing game in it. Iâve come up with three theories, all of which are⊠dubious, at best.
Theory #1: The killing game came from Terukoâs subconscious. Terukoâs luck is a part of who she is, and therefore, any effects it may have are based on what Teruko knows and how she feels. Perhaps, just before the time loop began, Teruko learned about the Hopeâs Peak Academy Killing Game, whether in class or through shadier sources. When her âmagicâ snapped and the time loop began, because the killing game was on her mind, it manifested before her. Basically, the time loop would operate much like a dream, where the things you learn in real life come back in surreal ways. I donât like this one because it leans in really hard to the magic aspect. Although Danganronpa has always been science fiction, letting Terukoâs emotions create an entirely new magical realm seems like jumping the shark.
Theory #2: XF-Ture Tech wanted to test Teruko with a killing game. Their research into her and her luck is quite similar to that of Nagito or the Kamukura project, so why not test their findings in the same ways that Nagito and Hajime were tested? Things amidst this theory that make sense are XF-Ture Tech, a tech company, possibly creating MonoTV, and the prospect of Terukoâs friends dying in a killing game adding an extra kick to why her luck would step in and create a time loop out of desperation. Things that donât make sense include how the hell XF-Ture Tech would manage to pull this off (especially if constrained by legality/friendship with HPA) and where the hell they would be now. That second question could be answered by, âit was Min,â I suppose, but the first is still off.
Theory #3: The killing game was introduced to contain Teruko. Iâm not entirely sure how this would work, but, basically, something else would have triggered Terukoâs luck to start the loop, and then someone (Hopeâs Peak, Mai, the Spurlings, who knows) would have introduced a killing game in there in hopes of having something happen. This idea was sort of spurred on by the note that Xander had to kill Teruko Tawaki. Letâs say that Teruko is a huge, powerful problem, much like Junko or Izuru. If you can find a way to breach the time loop sheâs created to introduce a killing game, she has to die eventually, right? Victim after victim, blackened after blackenedâ if Teruko is trapped in an eternal killing game, it seems like at least one of them would have to randomly stumble into her dying. However, I then have to ask how and why the other DRDT characters wound up in this killing game. Them all agreeing to volunteer for this potentially kamikaze plan seems unrealistic given their personalities. So, were they just collateral damage of the original time loop, roped into this last-ditch effort plan? How would a seemingly closed off loop be âbreachedâ to such a drastic extent, anyways?
I once again feel like Iâm missing something here, but I also donât think any of my previous assumptions were wrong. I just canât understand why the killing game would have come to exist within this time loop. Maybe it has to do with the person who started the killing game?
Who?
Oh yeah, itâs time to talk about the mastermind again, baby. But, obviously, filtering it through the assumption that there is a time loop will change my overall assessments. Now, we have to look for someone with the means, motives, and thematic⊠fittingness(?) to be involved with Looping the class.
Letâs start with some options that seem so obviously incorrect that I donât have anything to say. Why would Ace, Hu, Levi, or Nico be the one to have started a killing game within this time loop? Aceâs cowardice already made him seem unlikely, and making the danger zone neverending makes the premise all the more bizarre. You would have to reach pretty far to characterize Hu as the APQ speaker who claims to be incredibly bored and apathetic. Levi wants to change as a person, so inflicting a stagnant time loop seems counter to his goals. Nico⊠just doesnât seem to have any aspect of their character line up with the premise of a time loop? Like, if Nico were the character you created to be the mastermind of a time loop killing game, what aspects of how they turned out would reflect that? In my opinion, there are no connections, which makes Nico not it.
Some more less likely options⊠Arei has some dialogue about peopleâs behaviors not changing, but especially given her (likely) death, I donât think itâs enough to call her the mastermind. Given that David is alive, he fares better than Arei under the same scrutiny, but I still feel like the mastermindâs power in this context is more than the desperate, run-ragged David weâve seen in the second Class Trial. He cares too much, in his own David way. I feel like Rose should be doing better given how highly I ranked her in my main mastermind post, but Iâve been trying to fit the Spurlings into this time loop thing, and I havenât been able to manage anything. J is much the same, although the whole âTV showâ argument still gives her some traction. Although Arturo is generally a smart, scientific kind of guy, being a plastic surgeon doesnât seem to mesh with whatever science would be needed to make a scientific time loop.
And then thereâs Whit. Look. Iâm as tired of airing my grievances with Whit mastermind theory as you probably are of reading me air them. However, Whit definitely merits his own section due to one of the main pieces of Whit mastermind scripture (to my knowledge) directly tying the APQ to his candidacy. While I definitely respect and appreciate that aspect of this theory, I donât buy it myself. By demodrawsâ word, this theory is more of a âlist of evidence.â The only items on that list that I see directly relate to the APQ are that 1) the Forever Dead character, who may be linked to the speaker, identifies as a boy, and that 2) the speaker expresses grief. Although, that second point is also linked to the belief that the mysterious quote at the beginning of Chapter 1 is said by the same person who said the APQ, which isnât necessarily the case.
I certainly agree that Whitâs character is the most tied to the concepts of grief and idolizing the dead. However, there are many other characters who do the same. Charles mourns Elliot after remembering his existence, Arturo mourns Felicity whenever heâs confronted with the truth, Xander mourns his family and how he couldnât do more. (Why do so many DRDT characters have dead family members?) Eden has mourned Min and Arei since their deaths. You can also make the argument that the APQ speaker is more so mourning who they became and how things used to be more than mourning or idolizing any dead compatriots. Rose mourns being shackled to the Spurlings, David mourns the loss of his career once his secret is out, Levi mourns never knowing the right thing to say around Ace. With so many griefheads running around, I donât find Whitâs connection to the subject compelling enough to label him mastermind.
Then thereâs the âboyâ aspect. Obviously, Whit isnât the only boy in DRDT eitherâ as far as we know, Xander, Charles, Ace, Levi, Arturo, and David also identify as boys. However, I also donât think that the Forever Dead character being a boy is a majorly important piece of evidence. Assuming that Forever Dead is autobiography-flavored fiction as opposed to a genuine biography, the gender of the character itâs describing feels like a detail that DRDTdev could have easily changed to make the parallel less obvious. Although, then you might ask, âwhy bother including the characterâs gender at all, then?â In my opinion, Veronika talks for long enough that it would have been really hard to get through the entire monologue without ever establishing a set of pronouns for the protagonist. âItâs about a _____'' is also a pretty natural way to introduce a story to someone for the first time. Choosing the fairly inconsequential âboyâ is a lot less revealing than if Veronika said something more targeted; such as, âitâs about a marriage counselor.â I canât deny that Veronika talking about a boy could be an important clue, but hopefully Iâve explained why Iâm not hinging my entire theory off of it.
Alright, now weâre on to people who I think could genuinely make sense as a time loop mastermind. I think itâs probably most fitting to start with Eden. Because, you know⊠clocks⊠time⊠making time⊠you canât go back no matter how hard you try⊠itâs not a hard conclusion to draw. DRDT has many underlying mysteries, but as compared to something as mysterious as, say, Mai, the concept of a time loop is even further obscured. Making your mastermind the Ultimate Clockmaker is something that would seem totally harmless on the surface, but be a great twist when the truth of the time loop is revealed. The issue is⊠other than her talent, I donât think Eden has much going for her here. I guess you could argue that, if the killing game time loop is meant to help Teruko in some way, Eden has been very dedicated to her goal of supporting others. However, whether thatâs the case or not, itâs hard to make an argument that Eden doesnât care about anything anymore.
Maybe if the APQ quote is said in the future, and this is evidence of Eden undergoing the change that the APQ speaker describedâŠ? Eden is a definite possibility, but given all this in addition to my other theories as to where her character is headed, I think itâs an unlikely one.
Next, Veronika. As the one who introduced us to Forever Dead, she definitely has some connection to this time loop nonsense. The question is, how strong can that connection get? The main thing that I like about Veronika being the time loop mastermind is how well her character seems to fit with the APQ speakerâs personality. Both of them face boredom as their greatest enemy, and the APQ listing terror and fear as the top two emotions they wish they could still feel would match really well with a Horror Fanatic. My biggest problem is my main issue with Veronika being the mastermind in general: it just feels too obvious. Having Veronika directly state, âI canât stand boring things,â and having the APQ speaker directly state, âanything else is better than boredomâ is a really, really clear connection between the two. Would DRDTdev really want to drop such a decisive clue so early into the story? I canât be sure. But my gut leans âno.â
Itâs kind of impossible to talk about the possibility of Xander or Min being the time loop mastermind separately, because they share so many of the same points. Under the assumption that XF-Ture Tech is behind the time loop somehow, both of them may have connections to it. Minâs is undeniableâ sheâs clearly told us that theyâve sponsored her, and she wears their paraphernaliaâ while Xander may have been interrogating their actions as part of Maiâs scheme and/or in the first scene with the bloody hands over the documents. Both of them would serve similar narrative roles as someone who Teruko once wanted to trust who then betrayed her. And, obviously, both of them would be characters who appeared to die in Chapter 1 who would then return to serve as the mastermind, which could be an out-of-universe parallel or an in-universe reference to how Junko portrayed herself in the Hopeâs Peak Academy killing game. Using a time loop to bring your thought-to-be-dead mastermind back for Chapter 6 would be pretty sick, I have to say.
Similarly, both of their greatest flaws lie within the realm of characterization. Neither of them strike me as the particularly apathetic typeâ Xander still seems to care ferociously about doing whatâs right, and Min sounded genuinely desperate as she pleaded for her life. Itâs possible that they could have been acting, or some time-loop induced amnesia made them forget their true feelings, but either case would still be a major shift in character. If I had to pick one of them to be more likely, Iâd probably go with Min? The speakerâs insistence that they know whatâs up could match with Minâs scholarly attitude, and I like her increased connection to XF Tech as well as Teacher. However, I still feel that Xander would have the greater impact upon being brought backâ Teruko grew closer to him than she did to Min, and other characters, such as David (if heâs still alive) would also likely have a greater reaction to Xanderâs returnâ so for that reason, I kind of prefer him as well.
Despite the pros and cons of all fifteen other options, this theory is clearly the most straightforward if Teruko is the mastermind. You remove all elements of how someone would have to spring either the killing game or the time loop on Teruko, and allow her to make all of the plans herself. Whether it was fully intentional or not, âthe killing game is all your faultâ (italicization mine) would make the most sense in this scenario. Furthermore, Teruko definitely fits the attitude of the APQ. I donât know when she would have said itâ between loops, possibly?-- but I can totally imagine her outlining how she used to care, but constant suffering and betrayal caused her to corrode.
The real question here is just why she would have put herself in the killing game to begin with. My first thought was âgo through a killing game an infinite number of times and somehow something will finally result in getting Teruko to die,â if Teruko wants to die. But, that sort of contradicts what probably-Xander had to say about âend the killing game or at least kill Teruko.â Because, if the killing game is intended to kill Teruko, then ending the killing game could mean Teruko doesn't die, not satisfying what's framed as the more important of the two goals. Maybe if he was just mistaken as to what the purpose of the game wasâŠ? Or, if the time loop leaned more on the magical side, maybe the loop itself is keeping Teruko in the killing game until she can learn to trust others, no matter how dire the consequences. These other Ultimates were looped in for⊠accuracy to Junkoâs original, I suppose? Or, maybe Teruko threw them in as a form of punishment for their misdeeds.
Anyone who isnât a part of a killing game, such as Elliot or Ryan, raises some questions about how the speaker could be âstuck in hereâ and communicating with those who are part of the time loop. The most obvious option in this category is Mai, simply due to being the most relevant to the plot. Sheâs heavily involved with the secrets hidden in the websiteâs code, just like the APQ, and we know from Terukoâs own quote that âsome years ago, [Mai] was searching for someone named âTeruko Tawaki.ââ We also donât technically know what her Ultimate talent is (although I think itâs very likely to be Lucky Student), which leaves the door open for her talent to be something useful with regards to setting the time loop up. Even a second Lucky Student could create some sort of weird clash of the titans that resulted in a time loop.
A common argument against Mai being the mastermind is that she is, in all likelihood, dead. However, with a time loop in play, thereâs the possibility of resurrection. It could even be the reason why Teruko (or whoever) created the time loop in the first place. However, even if itâs pretty likely that Mai could be involved in the conception of the time loop, Iâm not sure if it would be in a way that made her the APQ speaker and/or the mastermind. For the former, itâs that same issue of not being in the killing game, and for the latter, I more so see someone else creating the killing game for her than her making it herself. Probably. I dunno, Mai is a mystery.
Given the criteria of âin a killing game,â itâs also possible that the APQ speaker could be one of the characters in the altDRDT cast, though presumably not Teacher. They would have the easiest path to talk to Teacher, as opposed to the regular DRDT cast, who may have more trouble accessing him. However, thereâs basically no shot at anyone in the altDRDT cast being DRDTâs mastermind, other than maybe Teacher. None of those characters have appeared on DRDTâs main hub, its YouTube channel, at all. Suddenly unveiling one of those charactersâ who even the hardcore fans know very little aboutâ as the mastermind would be pretty out of nowhere. So, to the extent that the mastermind was the one who set up the time loop, I donât think that any of the altDRDT characters created the time loop.
I think thatâs pretty much every viable time loop mastermind option. I donât know if we really determined anything all too specific, but itâs nice to sort out where all our pieces lie. As I said, I think that Teruko is by far the most logical option under the assumption that the killing game and the time loop are connected in a way where they must have been created by the same person. However, there are definitely other possibilities if you allow yourself to think outside that box.
Why?
On to arguably the most important of the categories: why? It doesnât matter how much logical sense a time loop would make in DRDTâs world if thereâs no narrative reason for it to exist in the first place. How would adding a time loop to DRDTâs story improve its themes and messages?
Well, as I already discussed in the What? and Who? sections, many characters grapple with themes of an unchanging world. What better device to reflect that mentality than one that literally shows the same sequence repeating over and over again? The fantastical concept of a time loop could emphasize and heighten the mistrust that Teruko feels. Using the time loop in that way would assign a concrete obstacle to an internal struggle, much like how the killing game itself is a physical manifestation of the helplessness of despair. Writers often enjoy employing devices like these to have a more tangible end goal for the protagonist to notably vanquish. Knowing exactly whatâs going on in Terukoâs mind at any given moment might be difficult, especially given DRDTâs format. But, if Teruko sends the time loop created by her own tragic expectations shattering to pieces, weâll know she made progress.
Additionally, Danganronpa itself posed the question of why we as fans continue to be interested in the killing game formula after seeing it play out so many times. In v3, they framed the killing game as the 53rd in a series to further emphasize the repetitive nature of this ritual sacrifice. Putting DRDT in a time loop could accomplish a very similar goal. As Veronika theorized in Chapter 2 Episode 7, the killing game will only continue for as long as audiences are entertained by it. In a never ending time loop killing game, will fans always be able to find entertainment? What does that say about them�
Having a killing game within a time loop is a unique premise, as far as Iâm aware. Iâve never before seen a fangan that decided to incorporate that into its plot. (Although, that may be a symptom of fangans tending to fizzle out before the finish line.) Making a fangan stand out can be tricky, and although DRDT already has the advantage of being fully illustrated, partially voice acted, and shown in a video format, having a unique gimmick can be a point of inspiration and a sales pitch. Similarly, Ultimate Lucky Student is a talent often tackled, both by the canon games (twice) and by other fangans. If the time loop is related to Terukoâs luck, that would also be a memorable and creative interpretation of a commonplace talent.
As for how a time loop would actually impact the story as it is, the obstacle it creates would definitely raise the stakes high for a Chapter 6 Trial. Like, how the hell are they supposed to beat that? Reiterating what I said earlier, a time loop could also be a clever way to revive a character (or characters) who previously died. If one of the starting premises of DRDT was âwhat if I had a mastermind that appeared to die in ch1, only to strikingly return in the finale?â, a time loop could have been the method invented to make that happen.
So, in summary, yes, I think there is sufficient narrative support to justify the inclusion of a time loop in DRDT. Maybe I shouldâve cleared this section out of the way earlier in the theory. Oh well, too late now. But, if I had the chance to start it all over again, maybe I could do things differently next timeâŠ! Or, maybe Iâd wind up writing the same thing every time regardlessâŠ
Where?
Itâs a little silly of me to co-opt the âWhere?â section as basically a summary of how I think the time loop theory would best play out, but I have my reasons. âWhere?â seeks to answer where the time loop originated, and who was in it when it started. Thus, with so much focus on how the time loop began, talking about the cause and result alongside that made sense to me. The full Accirax Time Loop Theory will be in blue below, with more discussion afterward to answer whether I believe in it or not. Closing Argument starts⊠now!
The Tragedy ended nearly 80 years ago, and the new American Hopeâs Peak Academy was founded about 50 years after that. Some time between HPAâs founding and 13 years ago, an up-and-coming tech companyâ XF-Ture Techâ partnered with Hopeâs Peak Academy to take a more scientific look at the origins of talent in young students, much like what happened in pre-Tragedy days. XF-Ture Tech already had their eyes on one promising youth, âXF,â who they prepared to send to the West Academy. To place a representative into the East Class, XF Tech encouraged Hopeâs Peak Academy to host the Ultimate Contest, with the intention of rigging the exam to get their applicant of choice into the school. This wound up being Min Jeung, who was placed in East Class 27.
Whether because of XF Techâs request or simply due to respect for the history of the Academy, Hopeâs Peak also once again began admitting Ultimate Lucky Students into their program. Their two candidates for Class 27 were Teruko Tawaki, who was sent to the West Academy, and Mai Akasaki, who was sent to the East Academy. XF Tech was quite interested in both of the students, but particularly Teruko. The way that her bad luck affected not only herself, but others as well, was very reminiscent of Nagito Komaeda, a major historical figure in both the start and the end of the Tragedy. XF Tech told both Min and âXFâ to look out for Teruko as best they could, making sure nothing would come to harm their new test subject, and prepared to begin experimenting on Terukoâs luck.
Meanwhile, in the East Class, Mai fit in swimmingly. She grew really close with all of her classmates, but particularly with Min and Xander. Mai had already begun searching for Teruko several years before they wound up being recruited at opposite Hopeâs Peaksâ possibly because of their shared connection to good and/or bad luckâ so when she heard a bit more about Teruko from Min, her interest was piqued. Recruiting her favorite Rebel to the cause, Mai asked Xander to sneak around in Hopeâs Peak Academy to learn more about what the connection between the Academy, XF-Ture Tech, and Teruko was.
What they learned in the documents was the reality of what was happening in the West Class: XF-Tech was intermittently running physical and mental tests on Teruko to determine exactly what the range and power of her curse-like abilities was. Could her raw Ultimate power rival that of someone like Nagito, or perhaps even Junko Enoshima? Throwing a few mediocre lives at that question would be well worth the answer, wouldnât itâŠ?
Using their social connections and financial power, XF-Ture Tech arranged for West Class 27 to be taken to a self-contained abandoned mall to begin their most dramatic test yet: seeing if Terukoâs luck would carry her through a killing game against other Ultimates, just as it could have for Nagito or Junko or as it did for Izuru Kamukura. The killing game commenced, and while Teruko might not have been a target from Day 1, at some point in the story, someone attempted to kill her. And⊠It worked.
What a disappointment. Was Terukoâs luck really so weak when push came to shove?
But then, something truly unexpected happened: the killing game began again. Unable to accept her death, Terukoâs luck engulfed the entire mall into a time loop, running the killing game over and over again until the results were satisfactory. The rest of the world moved forward in linear time as usual, but the mall was stuck in an infinite killing game. XF Tech, amazed and delighted, diverged all of their resources into the study of this phenomenon, protecting it closely.
Mai and Xander were horrified upon learning this, and knew that they had to do something to save West Class 27. Mai, Xander, and potentially some others ran over to the site of the test to see if they could break in, get further intel, change someoneâs mind, or anything to get the killing game to stop. However, as they did, they were attacked by XF Techâs security, resulting in Xander losing an eye⊠and Mai losing her life. At that moment, Xander vowed that, no matter what it took, he would end the killing game and save the rest of West 27⊠or, at the very least, kill Teruko to avenge Maiâs life.
Meanwhile, within the time loop, the deja vu (and possibly some comments from the XF Tech-controlled mascot?) began to make Teruko wise up to what was happening. While her original plan was to get along with everyone in the killing game, trusting them and being their hero, she found that every one of those routes led to death and personal tragedy/betrayal. Teruko learned that, if she stopped caring about others, she could at least cut down on the personal tragedy aspect.
Teacher, as a perceptive and intelligent soul, was the next to piece together that something about the killing game was unnatural based on Terukoâs behavior. In one loop, Teruko winds up saying the APQ to him, revealing her new attitude. Either Teruko or Teacher could fit the description of the Forever Dead boy with how their minds began to fracture.
Outside of the time loop, Xander formulated his new plan. When his village was eradicated, it was a case of the rich and powerful obliterating the little guy with their unmatched resources. To fight back, you have to become as big as your attackers. You can only defeat a time loop with a time loop. You can only save Ultimates by putting more Ultimatesâ lives at risk.
Thankfully, it wasnât too hard to motivate the rest of East Class 27 to join Xander in his crusade. Although he himself may have been a love-or-hate figure amidst his classmates, everyone loved Mai, and wanted to help fulfill her dying wish. Plus, in theory, the plan shouldnât risk any of their lives. Weaponizing the time loop killing gameâs unending nature against it, the goal was to repeat the killing game as many times as it takes until Teruko dies as the first victim. Her luck has to fail her at some pointâ itâs a corrupt system; it can be broken, argues Xanderâ and at that point, theyâll simply end the killing game with no other casualties. To make it easier on everyone else, Xander even promised to be the one to make the first move against Teruko, every time. He left a note on him when the time loop started to always remind him.
Anyways, using some combination of Xanderâs determination, Charlesâ science, J and/or Davidâs money, Whit and/or Davidâs connections, and remaining vestiges of Maiâs luck (LGI âoriginalâ Color Theory pulling through???), East Class 27 managed to break the abandoned mall time loop. They pulled Teruko into their own killing game, âmastermindedâ by Xander, in which her luck would hopefully be less of an obstacle. The DRDT killing game weâve seen thus far could be their first attempt or their thousandth, but whatever the case, the plan to get Teruko to die as the first victim hasnât succeeded thus far. Itâs especially hard to get it to work when Teruko has the lingering thought in the back of her mind that she canât be killed⊠and when Min still has a vague memory that sheâs supposed to keep Teruko out of danger.
Even though the altDRDT cast, West Class 27, escaped the time loop, they arenât out of the killing game woods just yet. The East Class managed to catch them mid-killing game, after two Trials passed. But, due to the confusion of the time loop, none of them can remember what happened in that particular iteration of the game, or Terukoâs disappearance, which leaves them at only 11 participants. Quite the mysterious circumstance, indeedâŠ
Thatâs the best I could come up with. Got some points of concern? Me too! Here are the ones Iâm thinking of right now:
Would HPA (presumably headed by âMs. Naegiâ) really allow XF-Tech to do anything remotely close to what I described to Teruko?
How would XF-Ture Tech have known enough about Terukoâs luck when Teruko was 5 to recruit Min (and âXFâ) to be in the correct classes at the correct time?
Is XF-Ture Tech really that important to the story?
Is Mai actually that close to Min and Xander specifically, or are we just biased because those are the two Bonus Episodes weâve seen thus far?
Didn't Mai and Teruko have a more extensive connection than what was described? (Matching tattoos, phone charms)
Why would Terukoâs luck create a time loop specifically? Why wouldn't it come up with some other way to save her?
Why would the time loop only be constrained to the mall?
Would Xander ever be willing to come that close to sacrificing innocentsâ lives for the plan?
Would the entire DRDT cast really be willing to risk their time, if nothing else, to enter a killing game just to "avenge" Mai?
What could they have actually done against Terukoâs luck to break the mall time loop?
How could they have guaranteed that another time loop would begin if they managed to steal Teruko?
Where did MonoTV come from?
Why would the students have themed the killing game around TV?
Why would they throw the embarrassing secrets motive into their killing game if it was only meant to kill Teruko/that âroundâ theoretically shouldnât even happen?
Why would Xander not have written the kill Teruko Tawaki note to himself? (He probably didnât based on the handwriting)
If not Terukoâs death, what marker would signal the loop point of the DRDT killing game? Whenever the killing game seems to end?
What motive would XF-Ture Tech have to (presumably) continue the altDRDT killing game after the time loop is broken and Teruko is gone?
Why does altDRDT have NG code bracelets?
I could probably come up with more, but these are all the major questions I could think of at the moment. While not a âquestion,â per se, another point of contention for some would be that this would make Xander the mastermind of DRDT. Itâs not a huge point of contention for me, both because 1) an off-the-wall situation like this is exactly what I think Xander would need to properly capitalize off of any narrative setup he may have for being the mastermind, and 2) @/sentinel-kinjo made a really good point in the replies of my DRDT mastermind post that definitely had me questioning whether I shouldâve put Xander (and Charles) higher.
Anyways, despite all this effortâ or maybe because of itâ I think I personally donât really believe in the theory that DRDT is part of a time loop. Somewhat like the Arei dress-up theory, I feel like there are too many oddities currently left unanswered for the theory to be actually viable. Unlike the Arei dress-up theory, though, I think that this one has far more potential to become correct via us receiving more information that either fills in some of our plot holes or reroutes the plot to avoid some of the biggest grievances.
The only thing I really like from this theory is that the altDRDT cast is West Class 27, AKA Terukoâs class. Thatâs gonna be my new personal headcanon until proven otherwise.
Iâm not the only one whoâs noticed that the DRDT fandom has been feeling a little sleepy (Min reference) lately, so thank you, anon, for helping to keep me cooking on the series during this semi-down period. âŠEven if it took me, like, two months to actually finish. Thank you for your patience, as well.
And thank you to everyone for reading this far! I think my mastermind theory still wound up being longer than this (although itâs hard to tell with the pictures), but this one is still a doozy. Also, if you have anything to add on or argue against, please share your thoughts in the comments or a reblog! Iâd love to hear othersâ thoughts, especially given how loosely defined the time loop theory was. Whether you do or donât, I hope you enjoyed. See you at the next inexplicably long analysis!
#danganronpa despair time#drdt#drdt spoilers#altdrdt#teruko tawaki#xander matthews#min jeung#mai akasaki#veronika grebenshchikova#eden tobisa#altdrdt teacher#altdrdt xf#fanganronpa#IT'S DONE!!! IT'S FINALLY FINISHED!!!!!!!!!#I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR S O L O N G#and now everyone can finally read it :D#i have no idea if i did a good job or not considering my end conclusion was like. lmao no#is this convincing to anyone???? send help#my theories#thh spoilers#sdr2 spoilers#v3 spoilers#cw suicide mention#it's very brief and it's hypothetical but i'm just trying to be cautious
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oh hey, thanks! tbh given that i'd already gone down two separate rabbit holes for both the odyssey and der freischĂŒtz shortly before magic bullet outis came out, it is genuinely fun just to talk about her. not sure what i'd request for an in-depth writeup, but given that you're really into faust, might i trouble you for your thoughts on the council of fausts, carmen-coded female characters, and the eternal feminine? i have the sliiightest inklings of a possible link along those lines, but it's been a while since i've read faust and i'm currently too deep into fighting fish (reading moby dick) to pick it up again just yet, so your opinion would be invaluable. pls don't feel pressured to do so though! i understand if there'd be too much conjecture in it to do (especially since we're still only getting crumbs abt the council of fausts as is)
also, if you're still looking for english versions of weber's der freischĂŒtz, i mostly get by via the 1961 rudolf kempe english production (libretto by edward j. dent) and a subbed version of the 1968 film, both of which can be found on youtube. the one thing i havent found yet is a translation of the original tale though, so you'd definitely know better than i would on that haha
Okay wow ive been procrastinating on this one for a while huh.
At first it was on purpose because of the implications that we would get some more information relating to the Council of Faust in the WARP event, which we did, but after that it was just because I was lazy.
As an additional note, I am currently in the process of reading âMan and His Symbolsâ, a book about Jungian psychology, which is the lens I personally primarily prefer to view the following concepts on. Following that on my reading list is another of Jungâs books, titled âThe Psychology of the Transferenceâ, which I have been told mentions the eternal feminine much more directly, not to mention the bakers dozen journal articles i have saved on the topic â I mention this to state that this is almost certainly not going to be my last essay regarding these topics. I already had the vague idea of connecting Carmen to the archetypes of the collective unconscious, and now I have more material to work with regarding this. Thank you Freischutz anon. - Literally's note
This is going to be the first of at the very least 3 essays on this request, just for you <3, also for my wife Carmen.
Moving on, here we go.
To begin, I want to establish what we already know, or what some reading might not already know, regarding the titular topics of this essay:
The Gesellschaft is the newly canonised name of the âCouncil of Faustâsâ revealed in the WARP event â Gesellchaft is a German word meaning society, or a relationship/community built on non-interpersonal ties and relations.
I do not remember exactly when the theory of the council began, however at the same time I do remember more people mentioning it surrounding N corp Faust, however for reasons I will not discuss, there is reason to believe that she is not part of this society.
Carmen-Coded Characters, alongside the Eternal Feminine, are linked together with the concept of the Jungian archetypes â The Eternal Feminine is the divine, culturally transcendent, ideality of femininity. A Jungian Archetype is a similar concept, first posed by Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung, of the universal concepts and images which exist in humanities collective unconscious. A notable and omnipresent archetype is known as the âAnimaâ, which acts as the internalised, primarily unconscious, feminine traits within a man, the counterpart is known as âAnimusâ.
Relating back to this concept of psychology (I am so sorry, half of all the essay topics I write about circle back to this topic), the Gesellschaft may act as a literal representation of this eternal feminine, a collective trait shared across mirror worlds, a communal sisterhood of the best traits of each and every Faust.
The council acting as a mass collective, similar to a discord server, of individuals who are independent from one another, may relate back to the Anima and Animus, with the final stage often being described in the image of Sophia, a representation of divine wisdom, which is a major trait present in Geotheâs depiction of the eternal feminine through Helen.
This final manifestation of the Animus is often considered a guide of sorts, acting as a messenger, as the highest level of harmony between the conscious and unconscious mind.
The primary flaw that one may direct to this explanation is in respect to the character of Faust herself, as, as is mentioned above, the Anima and Animus are manifestations of the Feminine in man and the masculine in woman â The argument may be made that the Gesellschaft may act as the Animus, the masculine, rather than the eternal feminine as is the supposed link.
To this I pose that, though you would not be incorrect, the council itself is âFaustâ as a whole, acting, in a way, as the conscious mind of the sinner, having, up until recently, been the primary decision maker. Though Faust, the sinner (God this is going to be confusing after a while if I keep writing like this), is a member of the greater âFaustâ, she does not act as the primary agent of decisions â Faust, the sinner, and the greater Faust, are both representative of the Feminine in their nature.
I have also seen it posed that our sinner is in fact Gretchen, and hence is why they refer to the knowledge as âFaustâsâ knowledge, however I am extremely far from convinced for this.
It is important to note that, while I do attempt to read papers and literature on these kinds of topics, I am still extremely far from an expert in this field â Though I attempt to make sure that I thoroughly understand a topic before writing about it, it is important to note that there is inevitably nuance on this topic which may be overlooked, for that I apologise.
Moving on, there is additionally a link that one may make between the ego (Freudian, not PM), the conscious mind, your âSelfâ focused on the current moment alongside considerations of the future, and the Gesselschaft, once again placing the greater Faust as the primary ego within Faustâs body.
This can explain the fact that Faustâs base EGO line does not change during the most recent WARP event, the statement âFaust knows all outcomesâ is not referring to our Faust but rather the council, the sinnerâs primary ego.
It is additionally possible that, through one means or another, it was the council of Faustâs at large which manifested the Representation Emitter EGO, however this is simple conjecture.
This is the first topic that will be discussed in this series of essays, the next will likely be the relation of the ID and the Shadow to Carmen,
also if you dont mind Freischutz anon, it would be helpful if you could elaborate on what you mean by âCarmen Codedâ characters, as if you dont, I will assuredly start rambling about half related notes because I am the biggest Carmen simp. - also Literally's note
#project moon#limbus company#limbus#lcb#projmoon#essays i wrote primarily while half asleep#library of ruina#lobotomy corporation#lor#Lob Corp#carmen lobcorp#faust lcb#literally's literal illiteracy#I am so sorry this isnt exactly what you asked for#i just think that i could do a much better job after reading the books mentioned in my other notes#As i am more than confident that âMan and His Symbolsâ and âThe Psychology of Transferenceâ are going to shed much more insight on the topi#there are certainly better people to write about this topic lol#im nowhere near an expert on this topic#im not even really good at writing to begin with#Carmen Coded Characters and the Eternal Feminine
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Honored Eternal Path of Demise CH. 7 - Companion Quest - Part 3
For a second he worries that was the last room he had left to explore. His hope was that the final place would make the other puzzles much more clear and he would know exactly what to do next. But the bathroom had seemed more like a waste of time than anything else. Luckily almost right after the bathroom, he finds another unlocked door. Praying for this room to reveal something useful, he is quick to step in. And almost steps right out, retching.
First Chapter ~~ Previous Chapter
Shen Qingqiu wakes up. As he sits up in the bed, he doesn't move for a minute. He stares at one point of the wall, deep in thought. Then he pushes himself out of bed and is out of the room right after. His steps are confident with determination.
Okay, he has a plan. Not much of the upper floor mansion is left for him to explore. And still his progress keeps getting interrupted too soon. He will need to put a stop to Ning Yingying once and for all.
He enters the main entrance and immediately stomps down the stairs.
"Senior! You are here too?"
"Ning Yingying, you know who this is?"
"Of course! That is Shen Qingqiu. One of the seniors that helped us when we first started. Don't you remember A-Luo?"
"Senior Shen, it is so good to see you! Do you-"
"I just got here. I don't know anything," Shen Qinqgiu interrupts.
This makes Ning Yingying pause and she can only answer with an unsure "oh..."
The silence continues for too long. Until Luo Binghe steps in. Literally. In front of Ning Yingying.
"Does senior Shen have any idea of why we are here?" he asks.
Shen Qingqiu sighs. Okay, right, he needs to keep to the script still.
He manages to survive the rest of the conversation. But at the end there is another divergence.
"Will Senior be okay? I don't like the thought of you walking all by yourself."
"You should worry more about yourself than others. You stick with your friend and he should take care of you. This one is perfectly capable of taking care of himself."
"Be careful Senior Shen! Please don't run off all by yourself!"
They are about to leave, when Luo Bunghe suddenly hesitates. He turns back and catches Shen Qingqiusâ eyes.
"Please stay safe, Senior Shen."
And then they leave.
For a second Shen Qingqiu just stands dumbfounded. What? What was that? Was his behavior really so off that even Luo Binghe would worry for a scum villain like him? He must really be off his game if that is the case. If he was a woman he would be swooning with heart eyes at Luo Binghes attention, but he just...
He tries to find it in himself to care more, but it is hard considering the circumstances. If he dies, Luo Binghe will forget what he just said. If he manages to survive, then he still won't be seeing Luo Binghe for a long while. So it doesn't matter. He got other stuff to focus on.
This time, Shen Qingqiu does not continue his investigation. He gets the spiritbox, but right after he goes straight to his room. There is nothing for him to do in here, so he just sits on the bed. He spends his time to consider his situation.
There should only be a few rooms left. And he thinks he has an idea of how they are connected.
He already knows the number code matches the glass cabinet of the bedroom. So that is solved. The flute he also remembers from when he first played the game. It is a part of a larger puzzle where he will need to collect different music instruments. The flute is undoubtedly the easiest one to find, though.
The rest his investigations have revealed might not seem as connected, but thinking back on all his progress, he is beginning to get an idea of where he can put them together on his mental detective board.
Something is hidden in the sink in the bathroom. If he finds a magnet or something to stick down the drain, he might be able to reach it. The piano is a puzzle and Shen Qingqiu vaguely remembers it being connected to the clock with the missing needle. He has found two places that held a collection of high quality alcohol. He will need to see if he can do something with that. He knows the post's puzzle in the laboratory, but until he finds the parchment with its solution, he is not doing more with that. He is clearly meant to do something with the teapots in the kitchenette. Once he finds a lightsource, there is the dark room he has yet to check. There is at least one locked room which will be unlocked by the Killer.
And finally, there is the mysterious box hidden in the larger broom closet.
Slowly everything will reveal itself. a map is carefully being made. And once it is finished, it will lead Shen Qingqiu to the next step in his quest. As long as he is allowed to keep building on it. And for that to happen, he has to get rid of his most aggravating hindrance.
The spirtbox begins to release static. He turns it off. It is time.
He doesn't risk peeking out the door. Instead he looks through the keyhole. He doesn't wait long. A dark shadow slowly passes through. He waits one minute. Slowly opening the door, he looks down where it went. He sees a huge, hulking figure round the corner.Â
He returns to the main entrance.
Stepping back out at the top of the stairs, he catches Ning Yingying just as she is just about to ascend. When he opens the door, fear is the first to cross her face. Her body makes an aborted motion as if she is about to turn and run. Then she realizes the shape is all wrong. When she recognizes Shen Qingqiu, the fear turns into relief.
"Shen Qingqiu," she cries, and he goes down to meet her halfway as she runs up the stairs.
This time he catches her as she throws herself at him. Letting her embrace him in a hug, he returns it briefly before he lets her go. Hopefully it didn't last too long.
"Are you hurt?" He asks her.
Ning Yingying shakes her head. She opens her mouth as if about to explain what has happened, but Shen Qingqiu speaks first.
"You can tell me what has happened later. We need to get out of here before he finds us." And before she can ask him where to go, he beats her to it. "Do you know somewhere we can hide?"
At first she hesitates, seemingly overwhelmed by having found Shen Qingqiu, but him not giving her a chance to speak. Before he has to give her a hint though her eyes light up.
"I know a place!"
She takes him by the hand and he allows her to drag him to the safe room. Once inside he notes the doors of the closet are wide open.
"That person didn't find me when I hid in here, I think we can use it again if he comes back!"
That, they can. Though the Killer won't step in here unless already in a chase. This gives Shen Qingqiu all the time he needs.
"What happened?" He asks.
Ning Yingying explains everything. She goes into detail about what happened after she and Luo Binghe left the mansion. When they found their dead classmate by the gate. When they were attacked by someone. When she ran back to hide.Â
During it all, Shen Qingqiu does his best to seem like he is listening intently. He nods at the right times and never loses eye contact. He is extremely aware to not interrupt her at any point, letting her tell her story in full. When she finally finishes, Shen Qingqiu reaches out to pat her on the head.Â
"You must have been very scared."
His words return tears to Ning Yingyings face. Like times before, he takes off his jacket and puts it over her.Â
"I-It was so scary. And I don't even know if Binghe is h-hurt or worse..." she sniffs.Â
Shen Qingqiu continues comforting her.Â
"We have to hope that Luo Binghe is fine. Otherwise, him saving you would be a waste, right?"
After a while Ning Yingying calms down. Her breathing is much more calm and the hair on the top of her head is flat from all the headpats.Â
"Okay, we have to decide on our next course of action," Shen Qingqiu says.
"What do you think we should do, senior Shen?" Ning Yingying asks.
"You said the gate leading out is locked. So we can't leave from there. We have to find another way out."
"How do we do that?"
"I have looked around, but I haven't been able to find a phone or anything we can use to contact anyone from the outside. Most doors also seem to be locked. So we don't have a lot of options."
"What about outside?"
"It could be dangerous to explore outside in this weather. We can't risk getting hypothermia from the rain. So I would prefer to avoid that for now."
"I... Then what can we do!?" Ning Yingying finally exclaims in frustration.
Shen Qingqiu kindly smiles at her reaction. So far everything is going how he has hoped.
"There are a few more rooms I haven't checked which might have something that can help us. But they are deep in the mansion and it would be dangerous to go there," he begins, making certain she is listening. "Right before you found me, I saw the person who must have attacked you go in that direction. He is likely still in that area."
"Do we- Do we really have to sneak past him?" she asks, horrified and unsure.
This time Shen Qingqiu shakes his head.
"It would be too dangerous if we both went. If he comes for us, we can't be certain we can find a place for both of us to hide. No, it would be best if only one of us went there."
Ning Yingying gasps. "Senior Shen, you can't mean that you would-?"
"It is our best idea. That person hasn't seen me yet, so they don't know what to look for. Also, you have already used your energy and might be in shock. It would be much safer if you hid here while I checked the last rooms."
"What if something happens to you? How will I know if you find something to help?" she tries, not that easy to persuade. Shen Qingqiu is prepared for this. Keeping his voice soft, he brings out his big guns.
"I will come back to you right after, whether I find something or not. I agree it would be best if we stayed together, but with you like this, I worry too much that something will happen to you."
Biting her lip in thought, Ning Yingying considers what Shen Qingqiu is saying. It is clear she doesn't like the idea, but with all his logical and rational arguments it is becoming harder and harder to think of any alternatives.
Finally she says in a very small voice, "I just want to help..."
The trap falls and catches its prey.
"You are helping!" Shen Qingqiu encourages. "You helped us find a place to hide after you found me! You have informed me of the Killer so I know what to look out for! You have had many great ideas, even if we can't act on them now! Now it is my turn to help and this is only until you are alright again. Then I will come back to you and we can find out what to do from there."
Big wet eyes stare right into Shen Qingqius soul. He never looks away, keeping his face soft and kind. He feels sweat roll down his back and his hands feel clammy. He wishes he had something to cover his face with.
Ning Yingying doesn't say anything for a while.
Then finally, she agrees. "Okay. You go up there. I will wait until I am okay again."
Relief. His plan worked. Finally he can explore the last rooms without worry.
"But you have to promise me to be careful!" Ning Yingying hurriedly adds, a threat to her voice. "Otherwise I will never forgive you!"
And at that she holds out her hand, her pinkie finger sticking out. It takes Shen Qingqiu a second to realize what she wants. Once he does, he reaches out his own hand, his own pinkie curling around hers.
"I promise."
With this, he leaves Ning Yingying in the safe room. He returns upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Peeking down the hallway, he just barely registers there is no one there before he is on his way. Turning on the spirit box, it is quiet at first. When he reaches the diverging hallways, low static is released. He turns it off again and keeps an ear out for the Killer. Then he goes for the last section he needs to investigate.Â
He knows he shouldn't be this excited about Ning Yingying staying away, but now he doesn't have to worry about her! He wasted a lot of time persuading her, but that is just time invested! He will investigate the last rooms and then it will finally be time to solve puzzles! Connecting the last dots and continuing with the story. Finally being able to play the game without dying every 10 minutes!
Reaching the laboratory, he is back to his fool-proof strategy of right-is-always-right. It hasn't failed him so far.Â
He is just about to reach the end of the hallway when he finds a door. A locked door. The third to add to his list. He gets to make an U-turn before he finds another, this one unlocked.Â
As he steps inside he finds himself in a huge bathroom. With an extra note on 'bath'.Â
The tub is huge. Dug into the ground, it takes up almost half the room, heavy steam drifting from the heated water. Floor, walls and ceiling are all decorated with simple mosaic tiles, slightly more detailed at the edges of the bath. A simple artificial waterfall endlessly fills the tub with fresh water. Built into one wall besides the bath is an abstract decoration made to resemble a mix of ocean waves and riding horses. The material appears much tougher than the rest of the room. As Shen Qingqiu carefully follows the horse-like waves with his hand, he finds it is like the feeling of rough stone.
The bath is not the only thing in the room. Furthest from the door that is not bath, a room divider has been set up to provide privacy. Besides it stands a fragile woven door, leading into a small closet full of towels and cloth. Shen Qingqiu also finds a couple of bottles containing bathing oils and soap.
He finds no hidden notes. No secret keys. Neither simple nor complicated puzzles. He only finds himself getting damp and hot from the steam.Â
He won't step into the water. There does not exist a single liquid in horror games that isn't deadly. Whether because consuming it will poison you, touching it will burn away your skin or being in it will deliver you right to invisible and hungry monsters. Fluids in any shape or form will in one way or another lead to your death. That is certain.
So Shen Qingqiu leaves. Nothing more for him to do here.
For a second he worries that was the last room he had left to explore. His hope was that the final place would make the other puzzles much more clear and he would know exactly what to do next. But the bathroom had seemed more like a waste of time than anything else. Luckily almost right after the bathroom, he finds another unlocked door.
Praying for this room to reveal something useful, he is quick to step in.Â
And almost steps right out, retching.
The entire mansion so far has had a very specific atmosphere. Floors have been decorated with deep carpets. Walls covered with old fashioned wallpaper. Furniture made out of wood has been heavy and dark. Different nuances of red being the consistent color. Clearly this place is meant to be from another time-period, the kind where you wouldn't be shocked to see Frankenstein or Dracula walking around.
The mansion is also giving an air of recent abandonment. Most things have had a fine layer of dust. Cobwebs have begun to appear in the corners. No signs of the beds having any occupants or chairs being used. Floorboards creak and windows rattle. Silence fills the halls and the air is stale.
Then there are sign of the opposite. All candles have been lit. Clean water continuously runs through the pipes. The piano is finely tuned.Â
Fresh corpses that still stink of blood.
The room Shen Qingqiu finds himself in is another small toilet. Just like the one he found before. Almost like the one he found before. There is one key difference.
Whoever they were, it is impossible to tell. They have been smeared across the walls and floor, closer to resembling homemade jam than anything human. Clumps of chopped flesh is left in the corner.Â
Shen Qingqiu tries to step in. Take a closer look around the room. Both hands covering his mouth and nose. But any squelch under his feet increases the chance of his stomach emptying.Â
The sink is clogged by an unknown mass, long dark hairs curling around in it. A mirror above is fully smeared by what Shen Qingqiu realizes is not the brown of dried blood.Â
Almost everything leaves his stomach then, but he just manages to keep it to heavy gags.
Stepping away from the sink he tries to look into the toilet. He would take a second to prepare himself for what he is about to see, but any time spent in this room is too long. So he just looks right into it.
The water is murky and green, unrecognizable clumbs floating around. Here the stink of the room is at its worst.
He does not try to flush the toilet. That would require him to move one of his hands from his face.
This is too much. In no life has Shen Qingqiu ever been in a room so repulsive, so sickening, so absolutely disgusting. There is nothing of interest here and if there is, then he will not find it now. This room has taken the bottom spot of any room he will ever return to, and the sooner he leaves the better.
He has barely taken a single breath while in here and his lungs have begun to scream for air. Not risking any of the vile to enter his system, he almost throws himself out of the room.
He has barely left. He has had no time to collect himself after that nightmare. He can still taste the bile at the back of his throat.
Someone runs right past him. Someone that should not be here. Someone that promised to stay hidden and away until he got back to her.Â
On his other side, heavy steps sprint towards him.Â
Shen Qingqiu is only left with one choice.Â
Throwing himself into the bathroom, Ning Yingying is only a second behind. Her face is flushed from running as she gasps for breath. Wild panicked eyes flicker around the room. There is only one space to hide.Â
Shen Qingqiu does not think. Grasping Ning Yingyingsâs arm, he drags her inside the towel closet.Â
"Shen Qingqiu, what about you-?" She manages to gasp, before he slams the woven bamboo door in her face. Right after the Killer bursts inside.Â
As an axe falls towards his head, it is more instinct than thought that throws him to the side. Tiles break from the force of the dull object.Â
In time, Shen Qingqiu returns to his feet, dodging another swing. He has just enough self awareness to keep away from the water in the bath.
The Killer comes at him again. As Shen Qingqiu jumps back, the corner of his eye catches horses and waves melted into one. A thought enters the static of his mind. A memory from his first life, sitting at his desk, current reality taking the form of pixels and numbers. The recollection of another character's actions.
The original Shen Qingqiu never did this. But since waking up in this body, there are many things that have been done that the original never did. Stealing an idea from someone else is something both versions of Shen Qingqiu can agree on.
He throws himself at the wall. Rough stonework cuts into his arm and hand, ripping cloth and splitting skin. Blood drips onto the floor as the axe flies towards him again.
Shen Qingqiu ducks. Axe meets tide and animals. A loud snap fills the room, as the wooden handle of the axe splits in two.
Wood as thin and sharp as needles fly in every direction. Shen Qingqiu feels them pierce his arm and body as he shields his face. Besides him he hears the heavy thud of a dull object falling to the ground.Â
He looks up.Â
The Killer stands with a broken shaft, one wooden end split into pieces. At first he looks dumbfounded at what has happened to his only weapon. Then he looks right at Shen Qingqiu.
There is one thing Shen Qingqiu forgot. One thing he did not think about as he stole the idea from another character. A character which had one aspect he did not consider.Â
That character had a weapon. One usable against an axe-less killer. Shen Qingqiu has nothing.
The Killer throws himself at Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu tries to dodge away. With no axe weighing him down, the Killer smashes one arm into Shen Qingqiuâs stomach, throwing him into the water.Â
He lands with a splash. He feels hot water enter his throat, almost burning his insides as he tries to cough it out. He pushes his head above the waves.Â
Just in time for the Killer to take him by the throat and push him back under. Breath interrupted, he can do nothing but swallow more water.
The huge oversized body straddles him, Hands are like shackles around his neck. They do not aim to constrict, but only to keep him under. Legs kick out, but do nothing but break the surface of the water. Body buckles and convulses, but the weight above is unmovable. The last he can do is try to punch towards the Killer.
He hit something hard and sturdy. Like a concrete wall, it does not give. But it loosens. Shen Qingqiu sees it through the stormy waves above.
The mocking devil. Slightly ajar. One eye revealed. An eye too human for what its owner is doing.Â
Playing the game on a computer is nothing like experiencing it as reality. Shen Qingqiu already knows this. So he would expect the real face of the Killer to overflow with emotions. Hate. Bloodlust. Resentment. Rage. Insanity. Whatever expression he would see, it would be so much more to see it in reality than on his PC. That playing the game on a computer would be nothing like experiencing it as reality. And somehow. Somehow, the game never captured the terror, the helplessness, the emptiness of facing a being so set on ending your life.
The eye is happy. It is excited. It is delighted.Â
As each failed breath burns Shen Qingqius lungs, a never ending repetition of swallowing water and body instinctively coughing it out only to swallow more... The eye becomes gentle. It finds calm. And it never looks away as Shen Qingqiu drowns under its owners hands.
Darkness swallows him whole. And the only thing Shen Qingqiu can see is an eye looking at him as if he is salvation.
Shen Qingqiu wakes up. He gets out of bed. He leaves the room.
He goes down the hallway. He enters the main entrance.
"Senior! You are here too?"
"Ning Yingying, you know who this is?"
"Of course! That is Shen Qingqiu. One of the seniors that helped us when we first-"
#SVSSS#BingQiu#BingYuan#Luo Binghe#Shen Qingqiu#Shen Yuan#scum villain's self saving system#scum villain self saving system#scumvillain#mxtx
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November 26
Patrick had left Indras place and was on his way home, he needed to go see Xeno. He tried not to hurry and thought of Indra, she was probably doing the same thing, just trying not to walk to fast. In the midst of all these worrying things, he could not help but have a big smile on his face. Indra liked him, it still had to like really sink in, he wanted it so badly and he somehow did not think it would be possible, but it seemed like she liked him too. He felt all warm inside and he felt incredibly happy, he never could have imagined her telling him just like that. He had imagined several different romantic occasions, where he carefully chooses the rights words to ask her out or even probe if this would be on option, and not all that is just gone, itâs for real now she likes him. He turned right, last minute, he would have walked by his own house just now. He had to laugh; he was almost dancing instead of walking. He lived in one of the lesser quality housing complexes, just cameras everywhere, but his friend Xeno, who lived here as well, had taken care of that, somewhere just playing in eternal loop. He went to his place first and quickly changed into his workout gear, he had some workout equipment in the basement, and Alice really encouraged people to do calm sports, to keep healthy. Few things were allowed, but cycling was allowed, so he pretended to go do that. Once in the basement, he walked by the bicycle and quickly disappeared behind a hidden door, just a quick fingerprint on a seemingly plain brick wall and it opened and closed without a sound. It was all Xenoâs doing, he was a genius with computers, robots, electrical installations, and many more other things. He had evaded capture so far, which was the only thing one needed to know about him, to realize his skills. Patrick took another elevator down, he always felt like entering the Batcave. Xeno loved Batman and so he loved making stuff like in the movie. Patrick had known Xeno a long time, he used work for the tec department of the CIA but Alice cleaned up that department, and there had been an enormous agency crisis and some of the best agents got away and hid. They had seen it coming, something was not right, so many had disappeared or were held somewhere, nobody knew. Xeno knew more, but he never shared that part with Patrick, the less he knew the better. Patrick was wise enough not to ask to many questions. He admired Xeno, he was the smartest guy he ever met. He walked out of the elevator in a rather big underground cave style room, it seemed empty, until he put his finger on another device which was well cloaked and looked in to a tiny whole and gave in a code. Three different identification systems were in place, and then the emptiness of the room disappeared, it was just a holographic decoy, just in case someone else came down here, they would see nothing, not even the robots. Xeno saw Patrick and almost ran to him, he had a huge smile on his face, I found him, he said, I found him, I knew it... Patrick looked puzzled...
X: Remember I told you something was of with Alice, she acted weird...
P: Yet, but she is like this evil-minded artificial intelligence, so, yeahâŠ
X: You never knew her like I did, I knew the head programmer, Patrick, and he died a mysterious death, and I always thought, someone framed Alice for that, why would she do that, killing was just not a part of her programming.
P: What do you mean, is there someone else involved
X: Yes, Patrick and I found it, I found him, itâs Albert, remember him...
P: I am not sure, did he like not retire, I remember vaguely reading something about someoneâs son dying and then there was this court case, but I did not follow up on it, but this is like ages ago
X: itâs him Patrick, I am sure of it, he has the skills, I just could not prove it, but something happened while I was trying to get Jade out of Prison.
P: What, you did what, are you insane...
X: I know, Patrick, it did not work, I send in one of the tiny drones, the ones the cameras cannot pick up, but the human eye can. Normally itâs the other way around, but robots and cameras have difficulties with Flies and other flying insects, so in certain areas like prisons, the cameras only pick up objects above a certain size, they had way to many false alarms, prisoners started breeding flies, just to cause false alarms, my genius plan by the way, and at some point the guards and the robots and Alice got tired of it, and they changed it.
P: yes, but they have robot flies right, like robots who look exactly like insects, so those can get by..
X: No, Patrick, they make sounds, and itâs impossible to fake the sound of a real fly, so mine are completely soundless, so they cannot be picked up by Alice
P: Okay, so what happened to Jade
X: I was just about to lead him out of his cell, when this robot came, and I could not find this one, I got into the Alice Beehive, and that one was like going rogue, so this robot came and was about to kidnap Jade I believe. First, I thought, that there was maybe another hacker collective, but no, I checked that. And you know what, that robot suddenly stopped, and turned around and took Jade back to his cell. Itâs like Alice noticed she had lost him, and he was doing something, and then she took over and just took Jade back, and then the robot went back to his charging station and then nothing. So, with my mini drone, I followed to robot to the charging system, because if I was lucky, the initial comment must have gone through there, and if I got lucky, I would catch it. So, I downloaded all the latest info and managed to get my drone back.
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seeing as Ashes's birthday is tomorrow, i thought i'd compile my favorite (clickbait youtuber vc) Top 5 Ashes Lore Momence
1) the cake is a lie! my personal headcanon is that the cakes aren't theirs, or even that anything is wrong with the cakes- it's just the 40 cakes that the Toy Soldier stole (as per some old tweet), and they are desperately trying to free up some space in the Storage Bays
[ID: A cropped screenshot from The Mechanisms's old TV Tropes page, reading "Ashes O'Reilly: Former mobster and the crew's Quartermaster. Ashes provides the band with bass guitar and silent judging. Also, cake (although none of the band seem to have been adventurous enough to try it)." /end ID]
2) this is probably obvious, but i forgot that Ashes actually burned down their orphanage Before getting the rest of Malone post-mechanization! which means they really Are outdoing Jonny's backstory at every turn
And for a minute â for a moment brief enough to forget and remember at the same time, this kid could remember what it was like; forever that tasted like the scent of burnt hair on the back of your hand and looked like charred rubble where an orphanage used to be.
3) four (4) different wanted posters for no discernable reason, only one (1) of which is visually different!
[ID: A screenshot of the page code from the wayback version of Ashes's crew page. Four distinct image titles can be seen, the first named "ashes-wanted-poster3", and the next ones the same, though ending in "poster2", "poster1", and "poster" respectively, before the first version is shown again at the bottom. /end ID]
4) this isn't exactly obscure, but considering the vague or dubious nature of the other mech's acceptance on their mechanization, Ashes is the only person to choose immortality with full awareness and willingness!
"Iâm told I had a good heart, but the Doc dealt with that after the whole patricide thing." - "The girl frowns slightly, grimaces, moves her head as if to shake it, or nod." - "when a woman stood over her and offered her eternity / and in the dark she felt hands on her, and the pain swelled to swallow her" - "she picked him up when all that remained functioning was the heart" (and we don't have anything definite on Tim or Raph's acceptance, and not Marius yet)
compared to Ashes-
"-some tired looking goth dropped out of the sky and offered up immortality on a plate." / "It wasnât a joke, no sir, but the kid laughed. Full and loud â this wasnât how they expected to end things in this dusty little corner of the galaxy, but who could resist that offer? "Alright then. Show me what you got.""
5) they need to even out their job as dispute-settling Quartermaster by creating an equal amount of chaos!
[ID: A series of 3 tweets, all made by The Mechanisms, @TheMechanisms. The first tweet is dated March 21st, 2013, reading: Please note: there will be no autotune in the final album recording. Do not listen to Ashes. -JdV
The second is dated September 21st, 2011, reading: //on't touch that thing, Ashes! It activates all the frequency tranmi//
The final tweet is dated May 30th, 2012, reading: Just installed a new control panel on the Aurora. Looks lovely, all shiny dials and blinking lights. I give it a day before Ashes breaks it. /end ID]
aaand that's all! remember to crush that like button and pummel that subscribe button and ring that bell and whisper a tremulous "happy birthday" to the night sky on Monday!
#the mechanisms#ashes o'reilly#oz.txt#hehe i didn't want to say it in the post but what's notable about 2 is there's a historical florida orphanage that Did burn down in 1920#which is about 10 years too late for the time Ashes got taken by Mickey but maybe they waited until their 21st so it could be extra special#lore
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Bro you cannot sit there and tell you think ANY of the admins in Scarfoxes have the brain cells OR mental capacity to remember a single fucking image posted almost a year prior to their design being created and sold. Thatâs being way too generous with Staffâs capabilities. Those cunts canât even remember shit from a day ago let alone almost an entire fucking YEAR. I donât believe even for a second that Dragon-Eternal ripped off that design and thatâs not me defending staff. Theyâre too fucking stupid to retain any memory of something that long.
Someone on the bulletin pointed out that Laneycore wasnât even active in the discord, and I checked the post history and they were right. If that ripoff Mikufox was being posted constantly or they had more art of that fire form then I could see it being an inspiration or ripoff but with the current circumstances? Hell no. Staff isnât that good and Laneyâs accusations of Dragon saving the image when it was posted are ludicrous. Who the hell does Laney think they are that someone would be assed enough to right click and save one shitty piece of art from them? Oh, Dragon-Eternal reacted to it at the time? Uh oh! Guess staff isnât allowed to react to any image posted ever because it means theyâre STEALING IT.
How far up your own fucking ass does your head have to be to think like that? And claiming that their fox is that popular, well-known, and liked like it isnât a fucking ripoff design? Because Chuchy apparently has no creativity and had to rip off other sources themself and then shits on others for potentially doing the same thing? Iâve never heard of OR seen Laneycore before this fiasco and tbh I blocked them after reading through the bulletin and their comments because they seem like an annoying egotistical cunt. I also didnât see many people talking about their fox in the discord outside of Laneycore themself, and havenât seen it talked about anywhere else I frequent either so really, how popular is it actually? Seems like Laneyâs status as a popular artist (if they even are one?) has gone to their head.
I know the entire point of the vent/callout was the staffâs unprofessionalism but Laney has no solid proof in their case that Dragon ACTUALLY ripped off their art piece for that design. The accusations they came in with were fucking ridiculous for not having proof to back it up and even a good moderation team would struggle in that situation. And looking at the two designs myself Iâm sorry to say that I donât see the issue. Two designs using green fire is hardly enough grounds to call plagiarism or copying when the coloration and elements in both pieces donât even match up. Nothing about the two designs is similar other than the appearance of the color of the fire, and even thatâs different when you look at the hex codes. I also donât understand why Laneycore waited over a month to complain and why they didnât go to Dragon with their issue first since Dragon was the artist of the piece.
Both parties behaved poorly here. I will never side with SF staff, but I canât side with Laneycore here either because theyâre also in the wrong. Demanding an entire palette change or hue shift just because a piece has similar colors to your own art is WAY too entitled and nobody gets away with that shit when they try it. Nobody owns a palette or a theme or idea, and ragging on staff because they handled your proofless accusations poorly is stupid as fuck. Nobody was going to come out of this situation a winner.
Fuck SF staff, especially with Dragonâs vague ass counter journal and every other time the SF staff have done shit to piss people off (DARCI), but really fuck Laneycore too. All of them can eat shit.
post related (links to updated post even tho i think this one was made before it was edited)
what happens when an insufferable force meets a dismissive object. like you can't even root for anyone in this im just happy this is a huge blow to scarfox in general
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When Our Hands Next Meet
Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.
This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at the wonderful drawing that pairs with this work and support them with reblogs so their work can be seen!
Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this as well, it came out a lot better because of them!
Chapter 5: Weâll Meet in the Middle
Chapter Summary: Virgil didnât know what he had been expecting when he asked for a tutor to help with his studies, but it definitely wasnât who could kick flip a skateboard without even looking down and also happened to be his soulmate.Â
Day 5 Prompt: Vocab Card/Skateboard
Warnings: none. If there are others please let me know!
WC: 1539
AO3 link
Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b
Virgil huffed as he cupped his chin aggressively in his hand, staring down the road to wait for his tutor to show up. Not to get the wrong idea- he was very grateful to the person who had agreed to help him with his vocabulary; he just...wasnât the best with people. He was socially awkward and very obviously had a vague emo style- wavy purple hair with white streaks fell messily over shadowed eyes and cheeks that would burn in five minutes outside despite his tanned complexion. His black nail polish was chipping from the constant picking and he was never seen anywhere without his favorite purple hoodie hugging him like a portable blanket. But he was falling a bit behind in class because he couldnât seem to remember the constant influx of new terminology thrown at him each week. Asking the professor about extra practice had landed him a phone number that he had agonized over for too many hours before finally biting the bullet and calling.
The voice on the other end alone was enough to make his stomach flip, light and lilting even when talking about something as boring as scheduling. Virgil knew it then and he was stewing over it now- he was absolutely done for. No one had that kind of voice without being kind and patient and while those were things he definitely needed if he was going to learn anything he was sure heâd get distracted anyway. Forming a squish from a voice- that had to be the worst joke played on him yet.
Looking up however nearly made him want to cry at the irony. That had to be him, the only person on campus at the moment standing tall on a skateboard while gripping a dark blue messenger bag. From what Virgil could see he had blue hair that was pulled to one side with the other shaved, immediately piquing Virgilâs interest with the unique look. He tried his hardest not to stare as he came closer and his jacket came into view; a leather one spiked at the shoulders and sporting pride flags at the chest. Virgil felt his own chest constrict as he stored that away for later, the pintrovert system coming in handy for what felt like the first time in his life.
Just as he was getting his crutches situated to stand up he noticed the other man riding straight for the sidewalk seemingly not paying attention to where he was going. Scrambling to his feet he lurched forward to yell out.
âHey watch ou-â The warning died on his lips as his tutor executed a perfect lick flip onto the sidewalk, letting the momentum carry him a couple more feet before stopping and tucking the skateboard under his arms. Virgil was sure he looked like an absolute idiot as he approached him, trying his hardest not to gape while practically feeling his eyes sparkling while looking at the punk with wide eyes.Â
âHello, Iâm Logan. And youâre Virgil right? The person Iâm supposed to help with his medical terms?â He waited for Virgil to nod before continuing. âExcellent. Is the library fine?â
Realizing Heâd been silent too long, he managed to squeak out a âYeah,â as he reached down to swing his bag over his shoulder. Logan started towards the doors with him, shuffling things around in his bag to pull out notecards and stuff the skateboard into it. How it fit Virgil had no idea but taking in the aesthetic he honestly wouldnât be surprised if it involved some sort of fae magic.Â
They settled down at the table and Logan looked over at him, making his heart once again skip a beat as he took in the beautiful shade of brown. Shaking his head slightly he tried to focus on what Logan was currently talking about while organizing several colored pens in front of them.
â-that way youâll be able to separate the terms better and your brain will be better equipped to compartmentalize the terms you need to remember in half the time. Does that make sense?â
It didnât. It really, really didnât. He had a soulmate somewhere that he hadnât found yet and most likely wouldnât for a long time to come, and yet here he was trying desperately to hide a blush because this person was just- he was so cool. His voice and eyes were pretty and he was obviously smart if he had been the first person his teacher had recommended to tutor himâŠ
âAre you feeling alright? You look flushed.â Hearing this Virgil snapped back to reality and gave a thumbs up, ducking his head while trying to resist the urge to slam it into the wood.Â
âFine, yeah! Just youâre- itâs hot! Hot in the hoodie.â Praying he had saved that sentence quickly enough he dared to peak back at Logan through his bangs, who was just smiling slightly with an arm draped over the back of his chair.
âYou can take that off then, if you want.â Logan pointed to the hoodie. âSince youâre hot.â
Virgil decided then, somehow managing to keep a straight face through his panic, that it was quite homophobic of the floor to not simply open and swallow him whole. Try as he might to calm himself he could still feel the remnants of the harsh flush in his cheeks as he saw Logan simply look at him with that smile, making him idly wonder if the sly bastard was really flirting with him or was actually just that oblivious.
Virgil sputtered as he wrapped the hoodie tighter around himself, shaking his head slightly. âNah, Iâm fine actually! You were saying about colors?â
âJust that color coding can help you study better. Iâm here to give you tips as well so please pay attention.â Leaning forward again, Logan started explaining how to separate the different concepts and how to decide what was important and what wasnât; honestly Virgil was genuinely surprised at how much he retained, forgetting his panic in favor of actually learning, for which he was very grateful. By the time an hour had passed he had a pretty good grasp on what he was meant to be learning and how to go about it. He stacked his much improved notecards together and shoved them in his pocket for later, shifting around in his seat to look at Logan properly.
âThank you honestly, I feel a lot better about the class now.â
âIt was no trouble, Iâm grateful I was able to help. And if youâre in need of further assistance before next week, call me?â Logan smiled crookedly. âI use the libraryâs phone for tutor scheduling, this is for my actual phone..â
Virgil gaped at the slip of paper offered to him with a wink, fully cementing the idea that Logan had, in fact, been flirting with him and Virgil had been too infatuated with his style to actually notice. Purple nail polish caught his eye as his hand moved closer and he had the vague thought of that being his favorite color and how did he keep them from chipping? Before his thoughts could wonder further he was taking the paper and smiling, just aware enough of their fingers brushing as he remembered being with this person, his soulmate, time and time again. Every time was better than the last as their souls grew accustomed to one another and grew over eternity, strengthening their bond with every word exchanged.
Virgil looked at his soulmate's dazed expression, the most beautiful smile heâd ever seen gracing his lips and eyes watering with emotion at having found him again. So many words stuck in his throat as he struggled with the perfect thing to say, something that would capture how happy he was to finally be together again and how excited he was to explore this lifetime together. Something that would make Logan understand just how much he meant to him.
âI think this is the coolest form youâve ever taken.â He blurted, immediately covering his mouth and cursing himself twice over.
His heart sank as Logan barked out a laugh, snorting into his own hand and taking a minute to compose himself before laying a gentle hand on his cheek.Â
âAnd I think this is the loveliest Iâve seen you.âÂ
He laughed softly as Virgil went completely red, fingers twitching with indecision over whether to flap his hand or slap the idiot beside him. Deciding on a combination of both he frantically beat a hand against his shoulder while sleeping his other over his mouth, mumbling profanities under his breath. Whipping around as his hand was caught he couldnât help but grin at Loganâs own brilliant smile, even if his face felt like he had dipped it in a vat of boiling water.
âItâs getting late, I could walk you home?â
âYeah,â Virgil managed. âIâd like that.â
Walking home and still slightly wishing the floor had opened up beneath him, he couldnât help but feel lucky that he had found Logan so soon. They had an eternity to catch up on and if it had to start with fixing his bad study habits, he supposed he couldnât complain.
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#false writes#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#analogical#analogicalweek#analogical week#virgil sanders#logan sanders#collab#collaboration
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Lover, Tell Me, if Youâre Able
Summary: You trek down to the underworld to save a certain Robin using your admittedly limited knowledge of Greek Mythology. Nothing a little moxie canât fix right?
a/n: Iâve been wanting to do an Orpheus Eurydice thing with Jason for a while now. Iâm pretty sure this has been done but I really wanted to take a stab at it.Â
listen to this song while reading:Â https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zP47npl3rHo
warnings: angst, slight body horror, unhealthy grieving, bad decisions, and kind of an eating disorder caused by unhealthy grieving. There is some tooth rotting fluff though. Â
word count:Â 5,049
You snorted in your usual short, breathy laughâwhich according to certain asshats sounded less like a laugh and more like the death rattle of a hyena âas you nearly tripped over what felt like the fiftieth rock in the past half hour. You cursed quietly wrapping your shaking arms around yourself letting your unkempt fingernails dig into your thoroughly abused coat which probably had a few unwanted holes by now. It wasnât even that cold nor was it even remotely scary. You know, aside form the ghostly moaning bouncing off the walls but that was par for the course in Gotham subways. No big deal.Â
After what felt like the seventieth rock, you swore. You swore loud and vicious and cutting. You swore to capital âGâ god that when you found Jason Peter Todd you were gonna curb stomp his ass into next week. This is his fault for being stupid enough to- to-
Just like that, your anger and frustration plummeted into grief.
Your mind fell back to the funeral,Â
For the first since you entered the dark tunnel a few hours agoâa few days ago?â, you could feel the cavernous walls threatening to close in on you as you took another shaky step.Â
To all the âIâm sorrysâ and condolences,
You could feel your rib cage fall open. Each gentle pat on, gentle look, and hushed whispers scooping out your insides leaving a vast empty cavity save for a heart that ached too much to beat properly and a pair of lungs clogged with too tar to breathe. The expanse of your chest feeling too full and too hollow at once.Â
To all the âhe died too youngâ crap,
No shit!
No friggin shit!
He was 16. He was six-fucking-teen. He just got his fucking driverâs license.Â
You wanted to scream but the words lingered in your bones. Instead, the nestled and furled into a mantra and worked their way up to your throat, burning. As if folding and creasing them into a perfect, proper eulogy of hand-picked words would bring him back.Â
You knew it wouldnât. You werenât foolish. You werenât that hopeful. You werenât even disgustingly hopeful. You were Alley born. You were practical and brutally realistic. You were also not dumb. As much as people in Gotham Academy seem to believe, you werenât stupid. You knew there was no ending to his story that involved a long peaceful life. He was also a child of the Alley, born of Gothamâs gutter, there was no way he would not die young.Â
Your tongue felt heavy like a tombstone being set into place.Â
And to all the âheâs in a better place nowâ
HA!Â
The words set your grief a flame burning it into the kind of white anger that consumes even those around you.Â
Fucking hilarious.Â
Just fanfuckingtastic.Â
Youâd see about that.Â
You took a long sobering breath holding it in afraid that if you breathed out the anger would seep out leaving you with nothing but grief.Â
After what felt like an eternity, you breathed out sure that all the anger, all the irritation, and all the sputtering hope had settled in your bones.Â
You were going to get him back.Â
You will.Â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Jason tapped the edge of your science textbook with his pencil morse coding something and clearly demanding your attention. You rolled your eyes, moved your textbook an inch closer to you, and continued reading through the passage electing to ignore your likely scowling best friend.Â
He tapped again. You didnât look up sure that heâd go away if you pretended his existence was an elaborate hoax. This ingenious strategy is probably why you two have been glued together for the last 10 years. Â
Losing patience, he snatched up your textbook earning a petulant, half-hearted glare from you. âWhat the fuck do you want, Jay?â
âDo you remember the Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice?â
You blinked at him, honestly confused.Â
He gave you a questioning look. He could probably see the gears turning in your head.Â
Youâd heard the names before but you were struggling to associate them with anything. Until it clicked.Â
âOh yeah, Hadestown the dude with the guitar-â
âLyre,â
You made an affronted noise which made him roll his eyes at you but you could see the slight twitch in his lips at your antics. You would count that as a win.Â
âHe plays the lyre, you uncultured swine. Did you even read the packet?â He asked lightly tapping your head with your textbook.Â
âYour posh bitch is showing,â you snorted. he tapped your head just a tinsy bit harder with the textbook. You scowled at him. He gave you a gentle reassuring smile which roughly translated to âit was an accident I swearâ. âUh sure. Yeah. Course, I read the packetâ you lied reaching over for your textbook which he sets down on the table behind him.Â
âAre you even literate?â He joked.Â
âLast time I checked I needed that to forge doctorâs notes for rich snots,â Jason wrinkled his nose trying his level best to scowl at you but from the crow's feet forming at the corners of his eyes the laughter bubbling in his chest was clearly winning out. You knew he was just worried about the unnecessary risk you were taking but it was a bad habit from the Alley days you couldnât shake. It wasnât like you were likely to get caught.Â
âThe In Class Essay is next period, dip shitâ he sneered as harshly as he could. He was so bad at being a hard ass that you just smiled. âYet here you are talking to me and depriving me of my education,â you snarked, gesturing vaguely to your book.
 You could technically get up and get it yourself but you were too lazy and you were pretty sure Jason wasnât gonna let you get the book that easily. âSides, itâs English who cares?â At that, Jason wrinkled his nose in disgust. âHow am I friends with you again?â
You hummed, leaning back in your chair, tilting your head back dramatically before flinging yourself over the table to snatch up the textbook from the table behind him. You were a good amount taller than Jason which really wasnât something to be too proud of. The bar wasnât too fucking high.Â
You plopped back down to your chair grinning ear to ear victoriously immensely enjoying his shocked look. Then he looked like he was about to deck you.Â
âWell for starters, Iâve saved your ass from getting shanked about 15 times now. Thatâs just counting instances out of uniform,â He looked at you affronted. You simply rolled your shoulders. âPlus,â You reached into your blazer pocket and produced a beat-up looking tootsie pop ring.âYouâre the one who proposed,â
Jason turned a luminescent shade of red as if you had just pulled out his entire cash of porn which youâve done. âWhy do you still have that?! How?â
âBecause you still havenât given me a proper one,â you said smugly tilting your head to the side inviting him for a rebuttal. He sighed exasperated. Resting his chin on his hand, palm covering half of his face, he glared at the opposite wall making damned sure that he didnât look your way. The flush in his ears peaked through his cropped curls. It was hard to catch but your nosy ass definitely heard him mumble âIâm saving up,â.Â
Your face broke into a stupidly wide smile, a warm feeling bubbling up in you. âIâll hold you to that, lover,â you cooed cheerfully, giving him a quick peck on the nose as the bell rang. You could see the mortification attack his entire being in waves.Â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
Stumbling out of the tunnel, you find yourself in a fray of souls all crowding towards the shore. You keep your head down and shuffle in step with the dead.Â
âThe dead hate the livingâ Constantine warned as he handed you the drachma and a beat-up old map. You handed him a wad of cash. He didnât seem to care that money was dirty.Â
You keep your expression carefully blank and focus on your feet but the sheer anxiety crawling up your spine rattling every vertebra was making that very difficult. You swallowed thickly trying to think of anything else but the depressing moans and absolutely haunted expressions were also making your life difficult. Instead, you focus on your award-winning bullshit speech that was surely going to win over the lord and lady of the underworld. Ok, sure, you werenât half the thief Jason was nor were you even half as smart. But you were definitely the better conman. You might have had absolutely no interest in English class but words have always been your friend. You could definitely spin it with the best of them. It helped that all the rough edges that came with being an Alley kid tucked themselves neatly away behind trustworthy eyes and easy smiles. Even gods could be taken for a ride, right?
Somehow you made it to the shore without incident and even got yourself on the boat without even as much as a glance from the ferryman. That was a little unnerving but you werenât about to complain. Not when it brought you a step closer to your goal. It might have been partially due to your unkempt appearance. Long nails, dead fish eyes, ratty coat, sallow cheeks, and dimming complexion all thanks to this wonderful diet called âgrieving over your dumbass boyfriend/best friend because he decided to be a dramatic bitch and die an untimely deathâ. Part of you wonders if you simply want to bring him back so you could murder him. Maybe. Looking around at the haunted looks on your fellow passengers move that to a probably.Â
Uncomfortable, you jam your hands into your coat pockets. One hand dug deep into the recesses of the pocket where the little ring was safely squirreled away. You fidgeted with it passing it from finger to finger like the coin trick youâd learned a while back.  Â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âMarry me,â Jason demanded unsurely, kneeling on one knee clasping your hand with both of his tiny ones. His little face ironed into something serious but cheeks flushed making them, what the girls called, pinchable but even at age 6, you were able to resist if simply for the fact that you were dumbstruck by the fact that your best friend and crush was suddenly at your doorstep in the middle of the day and clasping your hand.Â
âWhat?â You asked tugging your hand away but he didnât let go. He absolutely refused to.Â
âMarry me,â he insisted. âIâm proposing,â he added shyly seeing how the confused furrow in your brow did not disappear. âLena said it was a good idea,â he added quietly.
A round of hoots and hollers exploded behind you including Lena who was laughing her ass off. Even Carol and Lassie who were busy doing their makeup were snickering and giving you a thumbs up respectively. Your face burned hot and you scowled at all of them which just made them laugh louder. You snapped your attention back to Jason who looked at you with bright earnest blue eyes. Fuck. You crossed your arms trying to look intimidating and failing miserably because of just how goddamned cute he looked. Manipulative bastard.Â
âDonât you need a ring for that, bud?â you challenged.Â
âOh yeah,â He scrambled digging through his various pockets before producing a tootsie pop ring. Your hackles rose. What the hell Lena?
âLook at the size of that rock!â Josaline hollered from behind you. You could see the teasing smile on her face. You wanted to shrink. You wanted to maul them. You also wanted to burst because your crush likes you. You had a tiny, itsy bitsy crush on Jason for a while now. Youâve always declared that it was small but that didnât stop the girls from teasing you relentlessly and this was just a nail in the coffin. You wanted to scream at Jason but the way he looked at you made your little heart flutter.Â
âFine,âÂ
He grinned wide. âGreat! We can share rent,â he said his earnest smile turning cheeky. You swore some of the girls were choking from laughter. That was the moment you decided to make Jason Toddâs life miserable.Â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
As it turns out, traversing the underworld wasnât that hard.Â
Nope. It wasnât any harder than going around crime alley. At least here, you werenât too worried about getting shot.
Nope.Â
It was just incredibly. Fucking. Depressing.Â
The atmosphere was suffocating and the only thing youâve heard for hours were people listing their regrets when they werenât too busy sobbing. Given they have every right to be this way. They did die after all. But Christ! You being able to understand it didnât mean you could stand it.Â
Jason owed you big time.Â
Jason owed you the largest bowl of ice cream complete with 20 different flavors of your choosing, a mountain of whipped cream, a shovel full of sprinkles, and an ungodly amount of chocolate syrup.Â
And a hug. A long ass, bone crushing hug.Â
Yeah, youâre definitely demanding a hug. You donât care if his pansy ass tries to break for it. You were getting the hug.Â
Once this was done-
You turned the thought over in your head pointedly ignoring the fat droplets of tears now streaking your face. You werenât entirely sure whether they were from relief or unrelenting anxiety. If you succeed, your 8 months of hell would have been worth it.Â
But what if I fail?
What happens when I fail?
The thought seized your breath, your lungs constricting as if their cage of bones was threatening to collapse in on itself in your effort to shrink away from the possibility. You stopped breathing completely. A bad habit you picked up from your first foster home after social services took you from your home. Apparently, they didnât think a group of hookers could provide a safe loving environment for a kid. Assholes. Breathing meant relaxing. Relaxing meant letting your guard down. Letting your guard down led to bad things. Jason never commented on your new habit after you two reunited. After you both found yourselves at the mercy of Gothamâs streets.Â
âLover tell me if you can~â You paused but not quite long enough for a response. Not like a few months ago when youâd wait catatonically for Jason to respond with the verse youâd forgotten in his oddly melodious voice. Singing was the one way youâd learned to breathe out after locking up without triggering a panic attack. Sure, it annoyed the hell out of a lot of people but who cares. You liked it. Your voice was decent. Plus, Jason loved it when you sang. Your breaths flowed easier accompanied by a melody and the smile on Jasonâs face every time you sang always took your breath away. Â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
â Lover, tell me if you can Whoâs gonna buy the wedding bands?~â You hummed the rest of the forgotten stanza under your breath as you wrap the âacquiredâ blanket around the both of you. Gotham winters were a bitch but you tried your best to keep your spirits up which basically meant teasing Jason to hell and back. Who knew calling him lover would annoy him so much?Â
Instead of the intended reaction, Jason simply continued to the next stanza sounding a lot more in tone than you. You huffed partially from amusement partially from frustration.Â
âFigures you would know this song,â you teased.
Jason scowled tugging more of the blanket around himself as a lame form of retaliation. You leaned in closer to him and wrapped your arms around him. He huffed not really able to stay mad at you for too long.âItâs from Hadestown. The old woman at the pawnshop always plays it when sheâs working,â
âHorse shit, all she ever plays when Iâm there is Madame Guillotine,â You wrinkled your nose.âShe probably hates me,â
âGee, I wonder what thatâs about,â Jason smirked.Â
âYou know, she probably has a crush on you,â
âEW! Shut up!â
âCome on we gotta milk it-â
He elbowed you.Â
âFine,â you relented, rubbing your chest and letting your head lean on his. You watched the snowfall basking in what little warmth you shared.Â
âPromise me youâll sing that when-â
âIFâ
âWhen we get married,â
âFine but ya gotta sing the entire GI Joe theme song plus the Baby Shark Song,â
âBETâ
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
You stood before large obsidian doors bouncing on the balls of your feet. The doors were carved elegantly with swirling patterns and sprawling carvings of flowers and bones. Dramatic but very pretty. Your stomach churned as the doors lurched open.Â
You were going to be sick.Â
Before you were a long table piled high with every kind of food you could think of. Likely you would have had to pick up your jaw and mop up a cascade of drool from the floor if not for the last few months. Your stomach threatened to implode if you kept looking. Months of not eating properly did that to you. The first few months were the worst. You were barely able to keep a bite down without your body convulsing and rejecting it. Sadness had hollowed you out and filled you with something else during those months.Â
Now, you shifted your gaze to focus on the tall man sitting imperiously at the other end of the table on a throne carved out of precious metal. How someone looked imperious while eating was a mystery to you. It might be the fact that he was abnormally large looking to be around 10 ft tall. His frame was broad which contrasted greatly with the regal features of his face which were set in a rather loving configuration as he stared deep into the eyes of the dark-skinned woman as she recounted what sounded like a hilarious encounter with a dryad. The woman was unnaturally pretty with sculpted features and wild curls. She looked right at home underneath the sun which made her presence here ease your fraying nerves. They smiled at each other smitten with each otherâs presence which almost made you feel guilty for interrupting their moment of marital bliss.Â
You clear your throat as politely as you could drawing their attention and possibly their ire towards you. You took a deep breath, the kind that inflated your entire body, and forced it out through your nostrils as your mouth was busy reconfiguring itself into an easy smile.Â
âMy Lord Hades. My Lady Persephone,â You greeted bowing your head courteously. Your gestures were less grandiose and theatrical as the ones you used on the rich punks in Gotham which they happily lapped up. No, you made sure every movement, every posture, and every word was quieter, trying your damnedest to radiate sincerity and reverence from every pore in your body. Sure, you didnât have Jasonâs easy charisma and sure, you didnât have the power Dick had for making everyone fall in love with you instantly but you were damned if you were going to make a fool of yourself in front of two literal gods and squander your only chance at getting your boy back. Not when youâve come so far. Not when youâve done so much. Not when youâve dirtied your hands this much.Â
Hades looked neither pleased nor displeased by your presence. Good enough. The fact that you were still intact might have something to do with the mischief in Persephoneâs eyes. She looked extremely amused despite your interruption. You hoped, which you didnât normally do, that that boded well for you.Â
âI am her-â
âWe know,â Hades interrupts.Â
Your body twitched. Rude. But you schooled your features into something resembling pleasantry.Â
âYouâre here for the boy,â He adds, waving his hand. Without time for your brain to process. Jason is there battered, bloodied, and bruised. The dazed look in his eyes made him look haunted which made your breath seize. A cocktail of anger and sadness and relief swelled in you as your body twitched forward. All you wanted to do was hold him, to stroke his hair, to sing to him, to take him to Dr.Thompkins to get his injuries sorted out, and possibly watch the old woman thwack him on the head half a dozen times. Hell, you would offer to count. Your stomach churned and you felt dizzy. This is the most alive youâve felt in months. This is also the most fearful youâve felt in months. You felt like you were going to fall apart and recongeal into an entirely new person.Â
Focus.Â
It was hard to do when you saw how tattered his Robin uniform looked but you managed to straighten yourself out enough in time to catch Hades as he watched you appraisingly, searching for raw desperation in your features. You tucked it away in your bones and in the deepest recesses of your chest. He seemed amused and even mildly impressed by your restraint so he dined to push further.Â
âWhat are you willing to trade for him?â
Everything.Â
Your mind screamed automatically. The word dangled thickly at the edge of your tongue.Â
You would have plucked each and every star out of the sky and fashioned them into a necklace that would adorn Lady Persephoneâs neck.
You would have used Poseidonâs ocean to douse the sun.Â
You would have used the fires of Tartarus to set the world ablaze. It deserved it for the hand it dealt Jason.Â
You would do anything if it meant having Jason back in your arms.Â
You bit your cheek hard forcing yourself to refocus. You shifted your posture making a show of thinking if only to gather yourself. You knew the answer. It might not have been the right one and if youâre being honest, it wasnât even a good one. You rolled your shoulders trying to mold yourself into a more sure version of yourself. Â
âMy future,â
The room plunged into silence.Â
Jason who had looked like he was not all there widened his eyes and shook his head at you. You simply leveled him a smile full of cocksure and hot air. Sure, your future wasnât worth much. People have told you as much. But it was a novel offer. It wasnât every day that a mortal offered their fate to you and gods love nothing more than novelty.Â
Both gods remained silent. Hades narrowing his eyes at you and Persephone stared at you with an unreadable expression. The longer the silence wore on the more your confidence waned. The treacherous chorus in your head began to sing of the failure that has yet to happen.Â
Persephone let out a trill of delighted laughter and Hades shook his head in amusement, his solemn lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile. Both you and Jason stiffened.Â
âMy love, just let them go,â Persephone pleaded sweetly cupping Hadesâs face gently. It was an intimate gesture that made even you soft.Â
âMy dearâŠâ
âIt was not the boyâs time, my love,â
Damn straight, it wasnât!
Hades let out an exasperated sigh before looking at you again. âI will grant you both freedom if you pass my trials,â
âAnything!â The word spilled out of you too quickly, too raw. A satisfied smile wrinkled at the corners of Hadesâs eyes. Fucker.Â
âI will have you do three trials-â He flicked his hand and Jason materialized beside you. â-with the boyâs aid,â Without an ounce of hesitation, you gathered him into your arms with all the bravado and restraint giving way too stupidly unfiltered happiness. Without meaning to, you let fat droplets of tears streak your face. Jason copped your face giving you a wry smile and wiping away the tears with his thumb.Â
âYou look like shit,â
âSo do you,â
You both laughed. You kissed his palm and took his hand from your face and kissed his knuckle. A flush crept on to Jasonâs face but he couldnât hide that any better than he could hide the loving look in his eyes when he looked into yours.Â
The trials were almost insultingly easy especially when you had the worldâs best Robin with you. Sure, you were battered and bruised but it was nothing you could not handle. You suspected that Persephone was rooting for you. That or Hades just wanted you out of his hair. Either way, you didnât care. There was no way you were failing.Â
You returned to Hadesâ hall, arms full of spoils, and Jasonâs hand interlaced with yours. You both try to fight off the hopeful feeling bubbling in your chest but there was no helping it when his hand was warm in yours. You smiled gratefully at Persephone who returned it in kind, looking sincerely happy for the both of you. You made a note to send her an appropriate sacrifice once you were back on the surface.Â
Hades inspected your spoils and hummed. Your stomach lurched. Jason squeezed your hand and kissed your nose. Persephone practically squealed at the adorable gesture while Hades just smiled at his wifeâs antics.Â
âYou have succeeded,â
âThank you-â
âBut I have one last trial for you,â
Hades holds up his hand before you could protest.Â
âDo you recall the deal I made with Orpheus?â
You nodded almost numbly. Jason gave you a surprised look which you returned with a scowl.Â
âGood. I will make the same deal with you. Does that sound fair to you?â
You both nodded frantically. You knew this would be hard especially with your frayed nerves but it was nothing you could not handle.
On the way to the tunnel, you held each other close, soaking up contact while you could. When you reached the tunnel, you hesitantly let go of his hand making sure to remember the feeling of your fingers intertwined together. He pressed kisses to every inch of your face likely feeling guilty over your haggard state. You whispered jokes and half baked promises to appease him in return as you squeezed him harder. You walked tensely up the tunnel trailed by his ever quieting footsteps. You began to hum every song you could think of including the very annoying ones which earned you a lot of annoyed grunts and critiques from your ghostly companion. You also chattered about everything you could think of. All the latest gossip. All the things you learned during your global crime spree. You may have left out the crime spree but you could deal with the fall out later. Instead, you focused on the happy things. The things you wanted to do with him once you two got out. Once, you brought him back to Gotham. Sure, Bruce was probably going to maul you for all the trouble youâve caused the JLA but fuck them. Seriously fuck them.Â
After what felt like an eternity, you saw it. You saw light. Bright, crisp, and blinding. You were going to cry. You were almost there. You were almost out. Your body launched into a sprint. Your chest felt like something in it shook loose and your body was lighter than it had ever been. You were almost there. You could almost feel the sun on your skin.Â
You ran into the light and -
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ-Â Â
You woke up on the damp earth.Â
Everything ached.Â
Your veins felt rusty and sluggish.Â
Your mind even more so.Â
Snow flitted down to the earth in gentle feathery flakes.Â
Your senses returned to you one by one.Â
The sound of shouting and car horns littered the periphery of your consciousness.Â
Your fingers felt cold and numb.Â
The familiar smell and taste of Gotham smog overwhelmed your senses.Â
That wasnât right.Â
That wasnât right at all. You were in Mani in southern Peloponnese. You were face to face with one of the Gates of Hades just a few hours ago.Â
You shuffled through your coat. You did not have your drachma. You did not have your map.
You snapped your head in every direction looking desperately for any sign of Jason. Not even a single footprint.Â
Your stomach dropped as despair took hold of you and clung to every bone in your body. Pulling yourself up unsteadily, you stood taking baby steps towards a thoroughly battered brick wall. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, your phone began dialing a number automatically.Â
âYou have reached Wayne Manor,â Alfredâs posh voice carries over the phone.Â
Your breath stutters. The words claw their way out of your chest.
âJason- Jason, he-â
Alfred remained silent. Alfred was likely shaking his head in pity. You couldnât stand that. You could barely stand the feeling of your skin right now. Your resounding failure rippled underneath your skin making you tremble on to your knees. You could do nothing but crumple to the ground in pathetic sobs as the weight of agony and despair weighed over you.Â
âJason. Jason. Jason.â
You whispered apologetically, reverently. The words would not call him back. Those words could never call him back.Â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Piece by piece Jason returned to himself.Â
Jason woke up swallowed in darkness. It was deep and unyielding. Even his training with Batman could not alleviate the anxiety that brought.Â
The second thing to return was his hearing. It was deathly silent save for the pounding of his own heart and his frantic breathing.Â
 Where was he?
The air around him tasted stale and the resolute smell of formaldehyde was inescapable.Â
Then the pain lanced through and all his memories came back in a splotchy kaleidoscope of fear, fire, and pain.
 He was dead.Â
 He died.Â
 He was in Ethiopia.Â
 He was trying to save his mom.Â
 Oh god.Â
 Oh god.Â
 Oh god.Â
 Where is Bruce?Â
 Where is he?Â
 Why is it so dark?Â
 Jason tried to move his limbs but it was no use. He was boxed in.Â
 Thatâs when the smell of earth hit him.Â
 Jason pressed his hands every which way.Â
 He was literally boxed in.Â
 Was he in a coffin?
 He tried to scream.Â
 His mouth was wired shut.Â
 Oh god.Â
 Oh god.
 Oh god.Â
 He was going to die. Â
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ending was a bit rushed. I might edit it later. Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to roast me in the comments.Â
(Note: I tried editing the ending to make it more panicky and claustrophobic. I donât know if t worked.)
This was inspired by the fact that Jason Todd: Not-So-Outlaw by goawayolivia never answers how Jason came back.Â
Here is my answer. It is pure dumbassery.
taglist:Â
@birdy-bat-writes (enabler)
@idkmanicantenglish (sweet heart)
@batarella (Because I honestly blame you for this)
@multifandomgirl-us
@foenixphire
#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#Jason Todd#angst#My writing#attempts at humor#dc fanfiction#reader insert#imagine#hurt/comfort#kind of#more on hurt#have fun#batboys#batkids
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The Nightly Adventures of a Lost Shopper
Summary: Getting lost at night is one thing. But stumbling upon some crazy beating in a musty back alley? Yeah, no thanks.Â
Authorâs Note: Soooooo, itâs almost been a month since my last story đ
Work life and gym life really are keeping me busy. Anyways, I was inspired by a prompt I saw on Tumblr and like always, I had to run with this stupid idea lmao. Please enjoy!Â
Genre: Mafia!AU (if you squint lol) Warnings: Mentions of blood (just a smudge really); reader having no self-control when it comes to grocery shopping loll Word Count: 1.6K+
You stand underneath a flickering streetlight, swiveling your head left and right as though youâre checking for some car to drive by. Everything is so eerily quiet that a squeaky noise makes you jump on the spot. You crane your neck up and sighâitâs just a lonely traffic light swinging mindlessly in the breeze.
The yellow light blinks nonstop, unaware if itâs broken or maybe it does, and the thing really doesnât care anymore. You donât blame the poor traffic light; the streets are more dead than a groundskeeper working the midnight shift at the local cemetery. At least the worker knows where they are.
You, on the other hand, donât and admit defeat. âDamnit, Iâm lost.â
A hiss escapes your lips, and you grip the grocery bags that weigh like a stack of bricks. In hindsight, you should have created a shopping list. Thereâs a reason why you canât be trusted with buying your groceries without some plan. Now youâre standing at an empty corner all alone in the middle of nowhere, dealing with two screaming arms and muttering a curse at your dead phone with the awful battery life.
âAlright, letâs just go this way,â you mutter and trudge forward, praying that your bags donât tear open. You can only handle one problem at a time. Yet, your life is anything but simple. The universe always has something up its sleeve for you, just waiting for the right moment to strike.
Your bags might be intact, and there arenât any dark clouds threatening to rain on your parade, but you do hear loud grunts in the far distance. They cut through the deafening silence almost instantly. You quirk an eyebrow and waddle closer, curiosity getting the best of you. Â
Big mistake.
In front of you is a man screaming in agony, crouched over as he endures powerful punches from the red beast towering over him. The blows never stop, each one more brutal and vicious than the last. No shred of mercy given despite the desperate pleads howling into the deep night. You watch helplessly as the final punch is thrown. The sheer force alone breaks the manâs ribs so hard that a sharp pop echoes throughout the narrow alley.
The red-haired guy tugs his personal punching bag and growls, âYou ready to talk now?â
âYes-s.â
âGood, so whereâs the money you owe us?â
âAt a secret hideout,â he rasps, blood dripping out his swollen mouth. âI-I can take you there a-and give you the money-y. I promise!â
He gets dropped like an old sack. âDrag him to the car.â
âGot it, Big Red.â
Said man finally turns around, and your heart stops. His bright red eyes land on you, blinking in surprise. You stare back at him, wondering if you can just crawl into the disgusting dumpster and hide there. But you donât move a muscle nor say a word, too shocked at what youâve just witnessed.
Oh my god, am I an accomplice? You grip the bags tighter in your hands, and his eyes glance at them before looking at you again. Eventually, you mentally slap yourself out of your stupor, blurting out the first thing on your mind.
âIâm sorry!â You stumble backward, legs shaking for dear life. âI-I didnât see anything! Iâm justâgah!â
You spin on your heel, wobbling out of there before who knows what could happen to you. Getting lost at night is one thing. But stumbling upon some crazy beating in a musty back alley? Yeah, no thanks.
âHey, wait!â
You freeze at the sound of his voiceâitâs rough and commanding but not too intimidating. His footsteps falter, and you quietly count to ten before turning around, your bags rustling behind your legs. The man (Big Red was it?) stares at you, almost like heâs figuring out where you fit in this bizarre puzzle heâs trying to solve.
Meanwhile, your eyes bounce between him and the barely conscious punching bag thatâs being dragged to the black SUV, leaving a trail of red droplets in its wake. You swallow a tiny gulp; this is all too much. Â
âListen, I swear I didnât see anything,â you exclaim, jumping on the defense. Seconds later, you wince at your mistake. âOkay, thatâs a lie, b-but I promise I wonât say a word! I mean, not like I can call the cops on you since my phone is deadââ
âHuh? Wait a secââ
ââwhich is honestly terrible since Iâm lost! Do you know how long Iâve been walking all night? Iâll tell you: an eternity! And my arms feel like theyâre about to fall apart any second now because these bags,â you shake them like a pair of maracas, â are heavy!â
âHeyââ
At this point, you start airing out all your grievances in one go.
âI think thereâs a pebble inside my left shoe, rolling around like it owns the place. My house keys keep pinching me against my hip, and one of my shoelaces feels so loose that itâs probably untied, waiting for me to trip.â Suddenly, the stress becomes overwhelming that your lips quiver. âItâs super late right now. Iâm all alone and scared andâand,â you thrash the bags while wailing, âand my ice cream is melting!â
You inhale sharply like a person reaching the waterâs surface after a deep dive. Your face is flushed, and your heart beats a mile per second, the adrenaline soaring through your veins as you finish your explosive rant. Eventually, you calm down and remember who is standing in front of you. Big Red looks on in astonishment, his mouth gaping like a fish.
...I canât believe I just did that.
âOh, god. I...I-Iâm sorry,â you stammer, ducking your head and closing your eyes as a feeble attempt to protect yourself. âPlease donât hurt me!â
âHurt you?â You bravely peek at Big Red, who sports a concerned look. He cautiously steps forward with his hands raised. âI donât wanna hurt you, trust me.â
You snap your head up in disbelief. âY-You donât?â
âOf course not,â he says, giving you a gentle smile that washes some of your fears away. Big Red takes another step closer. âWhy would you think that Iâd hurt you?â
You give him a ridiculous stare. âNo offense, but you did beat up that guy into a bloody pulp; Iâm pretty sure he has no ribs left.â
Big Red laughs, catching you off guard. He jerks his thumb at the parked car and gives you a lopsided grin. âOh, him? Heâs just business. I would never harm an innocent civilian, though. Itâs part of the code.â
âPart of the code?â You scrunch your eyebrows. Then it hits you. âOh...Ohhh.â
Everything makes sense now. The suspicious, burly men with fancy suits. The rather gruesome violence in a random yet bare alleyway. The vague demand for money thatâs owed. Yup, you walked into an unfortunate episode with the mafia; just your luck. You raise one finger, mouth ready to say something but then decide against it.
Big Red notices your hesitation, scratching behind his neck like a guilty puppy. âLook, Iâm sorry you had to see that. I didnât mean to scare yaâ with all the blood and violence and, well, you knowâŠâ He laughs awkwardly, making the corners of your lips quirk.
His voice is so soft and gentle that your breath hitches. Itâs unbelievable that this is the same man who was growling like a wild beast before. The memory fades away as you judge his words, realizing that there isnât any malicious intent behind them; he is honest and sincere.
Perhaps Big Red is rightâmaybe he wonât hurt you. If he did, he would have done it by now. Instead, he flashes a friendly grin that brightens the entire block, unlike those deadbeat street lights. The grin alone is enough to make you relax and crack a small smile at him.
âAlrighty then,â you hum, tapping one finger on your grocery bag that miraculously hasnât broken yet. Stepping back, you start making your exit. âI guess Iâll leave you to finish your, um, business.â
âWhoa, hold on!â Big Red squeezes your shoulder, stopping you mid-way. Without warning, he tugs the bags out of your grasp. You jump as his massive hands momentarily brush along your skin, making you fumble over your words like an idiot. Big Red then shouts over his shoulder to his buddies. âGo on without me, guys. I gotta help this sweet peanut here get back home.â
Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. Sweet peanut? Get back home? Him carrying your grocery bags?
âPlease, you really donât need toââ
âI want to,â he cuts you off, his warm eyes and boyish grin leaving you speechless. Big Red adjusts the bags without breaking a single sweat. âListen, youâve been through a lot tonight; let me take you back home.â
You gawk at him. âAre you sure?â
âYup!â He puffs out his chest and gives you a wink. âBesides, you wonât be scared or alone when youâre with me.â
Well, you canât argue with that.
âI guess I wonât,â you chuckle, bowing your head slightly. âThank you, Big Red.â
âKirishima.â
âWhat?â
âMy name is Kirishima,â he repeats, a blush creeping on his cheeks. âBut-t Big Red is fine, too.â
You share your name and cheekily joke, âBut Sweet Peanut is fine, too.â
Kirishimaâs face lights up like the stars scattered across the night sky, absolutely smitten with you to the bone. He purposefully takes the longest route back to your house, hoping to spend as much time with you as possible. Luckily, you donât mindâhe is charming and sweet.
Guess it wasnât so bad getting lost after all.
As always, thanks for reading!Â
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A rather long explanation of why I don't like the Bee. Aka why I think making clones would be a better power.
Aaaah. The Bee. That nice yellow comb. Such a nice design I have to say. I remember that time, years ago, when I was still a newbie, when we didn't even know the Fox was a necklace... what a time.
When there were only seven Miraculouses, theories were vastly common. People looked up symbolism and made theories or just decided cool abilities to write with. Then Sapotis, in Season 2, changed the picture. The Zodiacs were revealed and people lost interest because instead of (then) four unknown Miraculous, there were like fifteen to do research for. I understand why some people use common abilities for Miraculouses tho, it's perfectly fine! It's just, I prefer more complex abilities.
I'm a writer, I've been writing Miraculous things for four years. And you all realise how much I like writing about the Miraculouses.
Yeah, so the Bee, there were many theories. I did have a theory that it would be paralysation, but not in a venom sense. It would've been crystalised honey and it could only paralyse an arm or a leg or something. I didn't like it that much so I started searching. Some people gave her flying, building things or even mind-controlling; but what I liked was this one: cloning.
Why?
It makes sense. Bees, along with ants and wasps, are known for their social structure. Bees in particular have some "roles", and they're known for that. What comes to mind is the concept of coordination, at least for me. Worker bees, abundance, collaboration, all that. A cloning power would require someone to have lots of spatial vision, body control and coordination, especially considering my headcanon where the Bee's clones replicate the main Bee's moves.
It made sense. Back when Sapotis was released, many of us noticed something: Marinette's first idea wasn't using the Fox. It was using the Bee. I admit it was such a vague thought, tho. "If the Sapotis clone themselves, maybe Marinette thought about a cloning Miraculous right before realising it would take too much time?".
It is versatile enough for me to write. My criteria for Miracupowers is that they can't make fights too easy. Cloning can facilitate many things, but it can be useless, misused, not needed, and very hard to control. And, most importantly, you can do many things with it. Distract someone? Yeah. Block a street? Probably. Fight support? Totally. Someone has to do a thing in two different places? Oddly specific, but it totally can happen.
So yeah, my version of the Bee functions like the Double Cherry from Mario 3D World. I admit I took ideas from that concept. I find it nice to write and versatile enough to make fights interesting.
But then, the actual Bee appeared. And I hate it. So much.
For me, it doesn't make sense. Since when are bees associated with subjection? However, if we look at the French concept, this makes more sense... kinda. In French, it is the Miraculous of Domination. Queen bees are associated with domination. But I don't really think domination and paralyzing go in hand. It's just... I don't like paralyzation for the Bee, especially since I'd prefer worker bees instead. And, as many have noted, domination works better with wasps! And the new Bee holder is wasp-coded. Canon Bee should be the Wasp Miraculous.
Why tf did Marinette think of one (1) paralyzing opportunity to fight an entire army of Sapotis? If someone has an idea then please tell me because I literally do not understand why they made Marinette doubt there.
It makes fights too easy. Bee totally paralyzes someone for five minutes... and, I guess, and adult user can paralyze eternally? This is totally OP and, unlike the Cat, it doesn't have any consequence. Cat is totally OP, but at least it cannot be abused like that because... people die. But the Bee totally can. Just bring the Bee. Paralyze the Akuma. Boom. No conflict. Unless very specific situations like Kagami's last Akuma which used a tweak of the same power. What do you do with paralysation? You paralyse things... and that's all? Is there any fight application aside from paralysing the villain?
I will never never never work with the canon Bee lmao. I find it so unoriginal and unfitting.
So my Bee represents Cooperation and for someone to be a good holder, they have to have a very developed spatial vision and body coordination to operate properly with their clones, as they imitate anything they do. So they should be a fast thinker and have strong visualization abilities in order to move the clones properly and learn how to fight with them. I think someone like Max would be a good Bee, because he has an amazing maths capability and probably, or at least I headcanon, lots of physics knowledge. So he could plan fastly how to move in order to execute his plan (overall Max is a very nice holder, I think). Or maybe someone like Nath, who is used to drawing movement so he probably has a developed spatial intelligence. And probably sporty people are good, but they'd have to have a strong concentration so maybe Kim and Alix are rather funny. So yeah, Bee!Max and Bee!Nath can work, at least with how I headcanon them both.
Alt!Bee is probably my most solid Miraculous and I feel like I will never change the cloning idea lmao. So yeah miss me with the Rat having it :)
By the way, I hate the Rat too! Why does it have two abilities? Multiplication, which is its concept, AND shrinking. I understand why, don't get me wrong, it's just that Multiplication and reduction could perfectly be different things. And I hate how clones do whatever they want. Does the holder control them? If so, how? Is there a limited number of clones? I headcanon four clones (because Miraculouses are 5-themed, which all the five minutes shit, so 4 clones + holder makes a team of 5) that imitate the holder's movements. I really would like some clarification, especially on the controlling part lmao.
So yeah, I think my rant ends here?
If you've read all of this, I love you. Please comment something. I'm begging you.
#bee miraculous#wasp miraculous#rat miraculous#ml salt#miraculous#ladybug#miraculous ladybug#miraculouses#miraculous box#chinese miraculous box#alternative bee#alt!bee#canon bee#canon!bee#ml headcanon#ladybug headcanons#ladybug headcanon#alternative miraculouses
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Yooo, so I know a long time ago, you wrote a scenario where I think death and Draven were trying to help the human with her period. She was having bad cramps and needed pads and such. Do you still have that story? Lol, Iâve been looking through the tags, but canât seem to find it (Iâm also on my period, so I was reminded of the story and how good it was lol)
Oh yeah! The format was all weird on the old post, but hopefully itâs righted itself on this one.
War: The youngest rider of the apocalypse was slowly coming to learn that humans are far tougher than heâd initially considered. Specifically those humans who have a uterus.
âOh, come on! Shit. Thereâs got to be some around here.â
War jerks his head to the side when yet another empty and slightly singed cardboard box goes sailing past his head. He raises a snowy eyebrow down at the offending object as it thuds softly against a shelf of mismatched bottles. Upon inspection, some of the oddly coloured containers have words like âshampooâ, âconditionerâ and the like. Truly, humans are bewildering.
The horsemanâs other eyebrow rises to join its twin as he turns to peer down at you curiously.
âY/n?â he pipes up, âWhat are you doing?â
The deep, rumbling voice of your travelling companion doesnât disturb you from your search aside from tossing your head over a shoulder to look back at him and grumble, âJust looking for something. Wonât be a minute.â
War frown and tilts his hooded head to one side. Youâd been âjust looking for somethingâ in every single human supermarket youâd come across for the past two days. Something is clearly wrong, but no matter how much he probes, you seem reluctant to divulge anything to him.
Another small box bounces uselessly off his chest and he throws it a cursory scowl before stepping up behind you. Heâs about to protest your vague answer when suddenly, you hiss and double over, clutching at your stomach and letting out a string of breathless expletives under your breath.
That in itself would be cause enough to alarm the hulking horseman. But what really rankles him, is that when youâd bent over, he caught a flash of something highly concerning and terribly familiar.
âY/N!â the horseman barks, raising his hands calmingly, âDonât move.â
You freeze in your spot, panic suddenly shooting up from your stomach and into your chest.
âOh god. What? What is it!? Is there something on me? War? Whatâs wrong!?â
Honestly, you expected him to pull some kind of hideously mutated bug from your shoulder. What you didnât expect, was for him to huff at you and press his enormous hand on your back, keeping you in place and growling, âWhy didnât you tell me that youâd been wounded?â equal parts frustrated and concerned.
At his exclamation, you pale and shoot a glance back at him before you spot where his gaze is directed. With a curse, you stand up straight and slip out from beneath his hand, twisting yourself painfully around to see if-
âDamn it,â you seethe, âI really liked these trousers.â
War allows his mouth to drop open in a wide gape. Here you are, a small, frail little human, losing precious lifeblood and in obvious pain, but the object of your concern is none other than your clothing. He shakes his head and steps closer to you again.Â
âIf you are injured, allow me to-â
âHey! Woah there!â you shout, jumping back from the approaching horseman and swatting his hovering hands away, âIâm not injured, Iâm justâŠ.you know⊠â
Scowl deepening, War grunts at you questioningly and continues his advance. It takes you a second to realise that he does not, in fact, know.
âWaitâŠ.You donâtâŠâ Your face falls incredulously with a hint of mild agony thrown in the mix as a fresh wave of cramps suddenly thrums in your abdomen.
You really do not have the time to explain anatomy to a clueless horseman.
You wave your hands dismissively in the air. âOkay, look. Iâll explain whatâs going on, but I really need you to help me find a full box of these.â One of the box-projectiles is held up in front of the horsemanâs face. He squints at the bright, eye-catching writing on the side and his lips twist around the foreign word.
âTampons?â
You click your fingers and point at him excitedly. âThatâs the one.âÂ
War casts his gaze around for a moment, then, his eyes land on something on the very top shelf, set far back from the edge. He reaches out and takes it up delicately in his large, gauntleted hand then pouts down at it and gives it a gentle shake. Definitely full.
The horseman passes the box down to you and waits with bated breath as you inspect his find. He almost blanches when you suddenly cry out.
âYES! YES, WAR! These are-â You clutch the prized possessions to your chest and beam up at him, â-These are perfect. Thank you!â
His chest swells with pride.
âAlright,â you shove the tampons into your rucksack and place your hands on your hips, âReady for code red. Iâll need to find a bathroom soon.âÂ
âCode red?â War squints in confusion and pulls his lips back, exposing his teeth when he remembers that, essentially, you are still bleeding. Humming, you grimace up at his befuddled expression.
âRiiiight, I still owe you an explanation, donât I?â
He nods urgently.
âOkay, Iâll explain while we try to find some Ibuprofen,â you rumble, placing a hand on your back and wincing at the ache there. Warâs vibrant eyes catch the look of discomfort on your face and he immediately starts to pick up boxes, peering down at the faded little words that he doesnât recognise. âEye-eyeboopâŠ.?â he trails off and stares down at you apologetically. You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing.
âCome on, it wonât be here, itâll be in the pharmaceuticals.â Placing your delicate hand on his own, metal arm, you steer the giant horseman out of the isle and launch into whatâs sure to be a painful explanation.
That night, your period hit you full force. It alarmed War to no end when youâd suddenly shot up from your seated position next to the fire youâd built and went hurtling behind a rusted transit van whilst shouting, âIâm alright! Donât follow me, Iâll be right back!â
Naturally, War had gotten up to follow after you, but another scream of, âDonât you dare come around this van!â had him freezing in place and pacing impatiently.
After only a minute or so, you return, sporting a miserable expression and an exhausted gait.
You collapse on the ground once again, turning to look up at War when he thuds down next to you.
âCodeâŠcode red?â he asks, testing the unfamiliar phrase on his tongue. You simply nod and pull your rucksack out from underneath you, rustling through it until you find a bottle of half-drunk water and a small, white painkiller. War was the one to find it, in the end. Only after youâd all but fallen down into a weeping heap before you even made it to the medical supplies. HeâdâŠ.admittedly lost his cool a bit and started to frantically scour the shelves for the odd pills whilst you sobbed miserably.
In the end, he hadnât allowed you to walk back to the camp.
Now, you couldnât be more thankful to the Red Rider if youâd tried. He looks on edge, unsure of himself for once, and thoroughly out of sorts. He wouldnât admit it to you, but he hated the fact that you were hurt and he hadnât been able to stop it.
Heâs pulled from his thoughts when your head suddenly rests against his arm and you sigh tiredly.
âThis sucks. First the end of the world and now this.â
Your hands fall on your stomach and begin to massage it. âThanks for your help, War.â
He grunts in reply, raising his arm so that you fall against his side instead, then he allows it to fall back to the ground, pinning you against him slightly.
âYou should rest over the coming days,â he rumbles.
Your eyes flicker up to him, âWar, no. I canât ask you to put your revenge quest on hold for me.â
âThe Destroyer can wait,â the horseman argues softly, âIf you bleed out-â
âWar, I told you, Iâm not going to bleed out,â you scoff. Â He simply grumbles quietly, but otherwise doesnât respond.
For close to an hour, you both sit and stare into the fire. War is as alert as ever, ears pricked and hand resting close to Chaos Eater, just in case. You, however, begin to feel your eyes droop. The painkillers have finally begun to work and the distinct lack of pain coupled with the horsemanâs warm half-embrace is enough to tempt you closer to sleep.
Reluctantly, you make to stand up, hoping to get to your bedroll before you collapse, but youâre surprised when War suddenly tightens his hold on you and shakes his head. Surprised, but too tired to argue, you thump back down into the nook at his side and rest your head back against the broad chest.
War offers no explanation for his sudden clinginess, nor do you ask for one. Instead, you simply smile up at him, which he doesnât return, choosing to furrow his brow at you and demand, âSleep.â
Youâre only too happy to oblige.
Death and Draven: Well it had to happen eventually. It had been a little under a month since youâd literally come crashing down upon the eldest horsemanâs head, that fateful day after the apocalypse. But really? The Eternal throne? Certainly not the best location for a period to strike. Still, as youâd said -
It had to happen eventually.
Death stalks across the courtyard towards the Chancellor, who sneers at the approaching horseman. You, however, manage to make it about halfway around the training circle that Draven and his spectre apprentices occupy before youâre suddenly hit with the sensation of getting sucker-punched in the gut.
âHoly shiiiiiit,â you whine loudly, âDeath?â
The horseman pauses mid stride, tossing an irritable look over his shoulder, but the irate glare quickly fades into an uneasy frown as he takes in the washed-out pallor of your face. He elects to ignore the Chancellorâs barked question, instead turning on his heel and making his way back across the courtyard.
Behind you, a gruff voice asks you if youâre alright. Then, a large, spectral hand lands on your shoulder and before you know it, Draven is looming at your back with his brow bones knitted together, concerned. It suddenly dawns on you that the undead warrior used to be a human himself. Perhaps if anyone were to understand, it would be him. You cast the approaching horseman a wary glance and take note of how many residents of the Eternal Throne have stopped what theyâre doing to watch. You cower self-consciously backwards into Dravenâs chest and whisper up to him. âSo, you know thatâŠ.thing, that happens to a woman every month or so?â Trailing off, you crane your neck backwards to look up at the undead. He casts you a quizzical look for a moment, tilting his head to the side. All it takes is an expectant raise of your eyebrows and suddenly, it hits him.
âOhâŠOH!â The Blademasterâs loose jaw nearly unhinges in disbelief. âYou mean, right now, youâreâŠ?â
You nod desperately as Death finally joins the both of you. If youâd been paying proper attention to the horseman and not the excruciating pain in your abdomen, you might have noticed how he bristles when Draven wraps a protective arm around your shoulders and leans close to your ear to whisper something.
âUndercroft?â the man murmurs.
You sigh with relief and affirm, âUndercroft.â
Draven hums before giving you a gentle squeeze and nudging you towards Death.
âTake Y/n down into the Undercroft,â he tells the horseman, who looks as though heâs about to object to being ordered around by the undead, but Draven continues, âS'in the kidâs best interest. Iâll be right back.â
With that, he turns to fix a ghostly eye on the onlookers.
âDonât recall telling you lot to stop training!â he barks fiercely. âG'wan! Get back to it!â
Death replaces Dravenâs arm with one of his own, draping it around your shoulders and smirking when the other undead all fall over themselves trying to pretend they hadnât been gawking at you.
âWould you care to tell me whatâs going on?â the horseman mutters in a hushed tone. You open your mouth to reply but bite your tongue when a stab of fresh pain lances through your stomach. So instead, you groan and hobble towards the undercroft with a highly confused Death in tow.
â---
Down in the storage room beneath the Dead Kingâs throne room, the horseman gently guides you to sit down on a pile of mouldy old cloth. It smells like the dead, but then again, that isnât exactly unusual in this realm. Besides, right now, itâs the most comfortable place in the universe.
You briefly bring Death up to speed on your anatomy and whatâs going on, and when you do, youâre surprised to see him violently smack his open palm against the side of his head, hissing to himself, âOf course, how could I have forgotten. Idiot.â
As it turns out, Death is all too aware of this particular plight.
He mumbles an apology and slumps down onto the rags beside you.
âIs thereâŠâ he hesitates, coughing before asking, ââŠanything I can do?â
You swing your head towards him slowly and blink, smiling a tired smile.
âGot any painkillers in your Mary Poppins bag?â
He snorts. This isnât the first time youâd likened him to this âMary Poppinsâ character.
Unfortunately for you, he shrugs. âFresh out, Iâm afraid.â
âOh well,â you say with a wince. âCanât have everything, I guess.â
The horseman beside you hums in agreement, then turns to face you properly, shifting around on his knees.
âTell me where it hurts.â
You meet his gaze with a bewildered frown. But, hesitantly, you gesture to your entire stomach. âAll over. Head, back, stomach mostly.â
Thereâs a responding hum, then a large, cold hand is placed firmly over your stomach and starts to rub in small, gentle circles. Â
Of course, you flinch away, mostly due to the supernatural chill of his skin, but when you recognise that heâs actually trying to be considerate, you fall still and watch him, astonished.
The horseman doesnât meet your curious eyes in favour of staring down at your stomach in mock concentration until thereâs the sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs.
As if itâs become a natural reflex, Death suddenly throws his arm out in front of you and whips his head around to the source of the noise but he relaxes the moment he sees itâs only Draven.
âHowâre you doing?â the warrior asks when he spots you and the horseman sitting at the back of the storage room.
A quick glance at Death, then you look back to Draven and smile up at him.
âBetter now, thanks. Whereâve you been?â
The pain in your stomach flares up again, causing you to curl in on yourself a little more and snap your legs shut for fear that your trousers could be stained without you realising it. Draven shoots you a look of sympathy, replying, âWent to see the old goat. Thought he might have something that can help.â
Deathâs hand returns to your abdomen and begins its gentle, circling motions once again. Meanwhile, you groan and stretch yourself out, trying to find a more comfortable position.
âAnd?â you grumble.
In response, the Blademaster holds up a familiar packet, so familiar, you could almost weep. You honestly thought youâd seen the last of them since leaving Earth.
âHe gave me these,â he grimaces, âNot like any clouts Iâve ever seen, but Ostegoth assured me they were all the rage back on Earth.â
A giggle stirs in you and bursts out before you can stop it. He looks so utterly out of place. If you were a little less tactful, youâd tell him he looked adorable.
But instead, you offer him a grateful smile and hold out your hand to receive the blessed packet of sanitary towels.
âDraven, you are a Godsend. Thank you.â
The Blademaster ducks his head and rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly with a calloused hand. âDunno about that, Iâm just sorry I couldnât find something to help with the pain,â he laments.
âDonât worry about it,â you chuckle and throw your thumb over at Death, âgot a horseman for that.â
Said horseman huffs. âI can always stop,â he threatens, lifting his hand slightly.
âActually,â you shift forwards, getting ready to begrudgingly stand up, âYou might have to stop, for now. I need to put one of these on.â You shake the packet in your hand and Death follows you up. He moves to stand next to Draven and they both just stand there, watching you curiously. Peering at them, you clear your throat pointedly and in an instant, both Blademaster and horseman jump, spinning around to avert their eyes and give you some much-appreciated privacy.
You canât help but to laugh through the pain and shake your head amusedly. Gazing down at the sanitary towels in your hand, you make a mental note to thank Ostegoth profusely and ask him how he managed to get his hands on them at all. You may still be in pain, craving something sugary and wanting to just scream and cry at the same time, but at least you wonât have to worry about leaking. Draven assures you that you can take out any of your frustrations on him, if youâd like while Death says that he can always âlend a handâ should you need it. You smile widely at their backs, glad that theyâre so understanding.
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đđąđđ„đ: hidden side đŹđĄđąđ©: chigasaki itaru/reader đ«đđđąđ§đ : sfw đ°đ: 3.4k words
đđ§: Thank you for the request ⥠Lowkey based off similar experiences from school lol ~âȘ I had so many different ideas, but I wanted to write this one for a while so here we go! P.S, happy belated birthday @starryneveâ :> âĄ
Normally heâd be able to withstand not opening his phone every few minutesâ heâd always make sure to clear all his AP, LP, SP, BP, whatever P before heading to work. Stamina bonuses were never a problem too, either heâd head to the comfort room or log-in during lunch break.
However, events were simultaneously running right now and heâd be damned if he wasnât gonna rank in the top 1%, no, 0.1%.
Itaru discreetly looked around the office, and as soon as the coast was clear he opened up his desk drawer. His phone was stored inside, his team of expensive waifus auto-battling against the enemies for this event.
They werenât doing bad at all, but he trusted himself a little more than the AI.
As he went over the best skills to use on the final boss, he heard a knock against the divider separating his desk from his co-workers.
âCode red, Chigasaki-san.â You muttered, volume low enough so only heâd be able to hear you.
Yikes, a red so early in the day? His boss must want something done immediately.
He hastily shut the drawer, sighing in relief that the metal filing cabinet barely made any noise.
âThank you,â he said gratefully as he watched his boss approach from the corner of his eye, already looking agitated with a word yet to be spoken.
âChigasaki, I need you to work on a new project,â his boss drawled on with the details; Itaruâs ears somehow being able to pick up on the necessary information despite all the words blurring in his head. Something about a presentation being needed and closing a dealâ heâll just check his email for specifics.
He continued to nod, pretending to absorb everything when in reality he was just looking forward to finishing the battle and getting his rewards.
However, hearing your name halted his movements. As you peaked over from your desk, Itaru could tell even you looked a little caught off-guard at the sudden mention.
âYes, sir?â you questioned, swiveling your chair to face the two men.
âSince youâve dealt with GeneSys before, Iâm assigning both you and Chigasaki as the heads,â he explained, âthere shouldnât be a problem with this arrangement, right?â
âNo, sir,â you replied.
âNot at all. Weâll start on the project as soon as possible,â he sent off his boss with a polite smile as the both of you watched his back disappear.
The silence restored in the room, you let out a quiet laugh to break the tension. âHonestly, thank god Iâm partnered with you,â you sighed in relief, before humming thoughtfully âalthough I might get some envious stares for a couple of days.â
He pursed his lips.
âIâm not sure I know what you mean,â he said, but by the twinkle in your eyes, he could tell you knew he wasnât being truthful.
Not that he minded. It would be an understatement to say he was pleased you were the one assigned to help him; if he could set a favourite co-worker, itâd probably be you. Not only were you dependable with work, but you didnât bother him needlessly either. Even so, the two of you werenât exactly friends, at least not until a month ago.
âThanks for saving me. If he found out I was using my phoneâŠâ he trailed off as you shook your head understandingly.
âItâs fine, Chigasaki-san. After all, youâve saved me a bunch of times as well,â you reminded him, âso what were you doing this time?â
Oh crap, he probably should get back to the game. He shouldnât keep his waifus waiting, right?
âOh, just messaging my troupe mates. They wanted to know what time Iâd be home for practice,â he lied, pulling the drawer open and quickly selecting the skills and moves to beat up the final boss.
After collecting his rewards, he saw the little red exclamation point by the bento box icon. Lunchtime stamina bonus time~
âI didnât realise it was 12 already,â he mentioned off-handedly, missing the way you jolted up for a second before pulling open your file drawer as well.
âShould probably have lunch in a while,â you said, unknowingly opening the same game Itaru was playing. âWant to eat lunch together? Iâll go over my previous experience with GeneSys Tech Corp.â
âSure. The faster we get this over with, the better.â
âSo I could get back to my games in peace,â the both of you thought.
Corporate slaves needed more rights. The project wasnât so difficult that heâd collapse in exhaustion, but he was definitely frustrated with all the demands that needed fulfilling.
Should he game to destress? Ah, but he once he starts he might not be able to stop-
Itaruâs phone screen lit up, and he would have thought it was a game notification if it wasnât for the ringtone blaring. As soon as he saw your name, he wondered if you somehow picked up on the fact that he was planning on slacking off taking a break.
âGood evening,â you greeted him, voice calm and not at all angryâ right, he can strike off the âmy co-worker has a 6th sense?â theory. âSorry to disturb you, just felt like checking in. Howâs work going from your side?â
He looked at the graph currently shown on his desktop, already feeling a headache incoming. âNot too bad, could be better,â Itaru answered vaguely, not wanting to give you a bad impression.
He couldnât figure out whether you believed him or not, the only tell being the hum you let out.
âSame boat, then. Seriously, for a company whose most relevant success is a video game in the 90sâŠâ
Itaru immediately perked up, pressed at the mention of the game. âRight? Then again, what do you expect from them after that total disappointment of a sequel that-â he suddenly stopped.
If he said any more he totally couldâve been in trouble just there.
âOh, howâd you know about the video game? GeneSys rebranded themselves a couple years ago, so I didnât think youâd know about it,â you questioned him, leaving Itaru to scramble for the best excuse he could think of.
Yeah, heâs not about to take the risk and assume you knew the game because youâve played it before.
âDid some research on the companyâs past endeavours,â he began, sounding as nonchalant as he possibly could, âI suppose I got a bit invested.â
That was one way to put it. He still remembered being upset as a teenager that the long-awaited sequel was a total cash-grab.
âPfft,â you let out a small laugh, and for a moment Itaru felt franticâ did you somehow figure him out? He wouldnât put it past the you who caught him using his phone, when no one else had, a month ago.
âThis oddly passionate side to the princely Chigasaki Itaru-san is really nice.â
He was eternally grateful to whatever higher being (beings?) there was that this conversation was taking place over the phone. Despite the air conditioning, his face began to warm like his phone would overheat after playing for too long.
Seriously, all you said was that side of him was niceâ not that you knew the full extentâ so why did he feel like a cliche otome MC? Wasnât he past the stage of getting flustered over stuff like this?
âChigasaki-san, are you still there?â you called out, and Itaru calmed himself down to the best of his abilities before answering.
âYeah, sorry. Connection got cut for a bit. You were saying?â
If a smile had a sound, he was definitely hearing it right now. âOh nothing~ I was just thinking that your fans would be so jealous if I told them I got to see a hidden side of their prince just now,â you teased.
Probably not. Itâs not exactly the definition of charming, not even urban dictionary worthy, but heâll indulge you.
He didnât even bother covering up the huff that escaped him. âAnd who knew my dependable and quiet project partner was so chatty? Keeping a guy up this late and distracting him from work?â
It was your turn to be silent, and before he could apologise you beat him to it.
âI didnât realise it was so late! Sorry, I wanted to chat away the stress,â you explained, âshould probably stop disturbing you, right?â
He looked at the time. Heâs not sure what heâs doing exactly, but he doesnât need to go in-game until the reset at midnightâ might as well refill his irl stamina too, right? Well, if he could be the bento box that helped you refill your energy, why not?
⊠Yeah, that sounded better in his head.
âI mean, we could probably talk about work on call⊠or,â he paused for dramatic effect, âwe could just talk.â
Itaruâs equally as relieved as you when you breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank god, he didnât want to actually talk about work. It was only the first day of the project, both of you had time to kill. Probably.
âWhy do I have a feeling youâre gonna end up sniffing out my secrets?â
He snickered at your suggestion. âThen Iâm not the co-worker you should be worried about then,â before you could question who he possibly meant, he continued, âthough since you got to see a quote, hidden side of me, unquote, shouldnât I know more about you?â
âHmmm? Like what?â you asked.
âLike what you even do on your phone anyway? Youâre on your phone just as much as me,â as he uttered those words you were voiceless for a split second, not unlike the momentary silence committed by Itaru minutes ago.
You tittered, your awkwardness not going unnoticed. âMostly reading e-books, nothing too special.â
Okay, but the way you made it sound gave off the impression of it being fan fiction or something. Not that heâd judge, just a little surprising for you he guessed.
âOh? Whatâs it about?â
His suspicion died down quickly enough as soon as you went off about the plot and characters of the story you were reading. He made a noise every now and then to let you know he was still listening, moving to his bed as he slipped on his headphones.
As you ranted about some complicated love triangle he figured would be popular in TV dramas and reverse harem routes, the more he found it undeniable that he enjoyed seeing this side of you, too.
He felt the tension of the workday slip off his system, your voice washing it away. Who knows? Maybe youâd consider a career in streaming or ASMR or something.
A couple of minutes pass by, and Itaruâs wordless responses died down after a while.
âChigasaki-san?â you asked gently, not wanting to disrupt him should your suspicions be correct. When he didnât respond, you smiled to yourself. Well, midnight just struck after all.
âGood night, sweet dreams,â you whispered before ending the call.
Imagine finding out from a 17-year old brat that his ranking dipped because he fell asleep listening to his co-workerâs voice while waiting for the reset. He was a little upset at having to spend diamonds just to climb back up the leaderboard, but at least heâs in the top 0.1% again. It was nothing a bunch of grinding couldnât fix.
What he was mortified about, however, was falling asleep in call. He was the one who suggested staying in the call in the first place, yet he dozed off on you. You didnât send him an angry text or anything, but he was still prepared to press an f in the chat for himself.
Itaru found that you were already sat at your desk by the time he arrived, prodding at the phone inside your drawer. While it was mostly hidden, if he looked close enough heâd probably be able to see what you were doing.
⊠Not that he was going to, of course. You were mutuals in this we-secretly-use-our-phones-at-work tendency, he wasnât going to betray you now! Still, he was a little curious. A peek over the shoulder wouldnât hurt, right?
âChigasaki-san, good morning! You looked like you rested well~â
Mission failed. Weâll get âem next time.
âAha, my apologies. I suppose I was more tired than usual,â he paused, feeling something offâ by the way you narrowed your eyes slightly at something behind him he could tell people were probably eavesdropping.
âDonât worry! It was getting too late to discuss the upcoming project anyway,â you replied, putting emphasis to deter any rumours. Though you werenât shouting by any means, the sudden volume definitely got you the response you wanted by the upwards pull of your lips. âWe can continue working on it now that youâre here.â
As he sat down, turning his chair to face you, Itaru was unable to mask the small grin he sported on his face. âVery cool of you. So you have this side to you as well?â
âIâve always wanted to try out a scene like that! Though I always imagined myself more on the MCâs side than the MLâs.â
âHm? MC? ML?â he asked, feigning ignorance to the terms used. Not that those terms were limited to use in games, but still it was a teensy bit suspicious.
âOh? Uh, MC for main character and ML for male lead,â you explained to him, not knowing that he already knew what they stood for. âReviews for novels use those terms a lot, so I guess I picked up on them.â
⊠damn you right, though.
âDidnât peg you for an office romance lover,â Itaru said, watching you shrug your shoulders.
âWhat can I say? Iâm a versatile person with many interests~â you grinned, the sudden flash of your teeth a little blinding.
Unexpectedly all it took was one late-night phone call for you to be more comfortable around him; he finds himself feeling much of the same. Still, werenât you getting a little bolder with your vague responses?
Well, if his dating simulators taught him anything, it was clear that you were begging for a response. For an unathletic man, his heart rate increased steadily like a man on a morning jogâ the anticipation similar to what he felt when a game continued to throw him pleasant surprises.
âReally? What else are you interested in, then?â he asked, keeping his voice low so that only the two of you could hear each other. On the outside, the two of you probably (hopefully) looked like you were discussing work; at worst, conspiring a business scheme togetherâ the glint in both of your eyes said otherwise.
âWouldnât you like to find out?â you laughed quietly, almost tricking Itaru into believing you wouldnât say any more. âFor starters, Iâm interested in you,â
Heâs, well, more than a little dumbfounded. Shellshocked might be the appropriate word for it. Seriously, who told you it was okay to be so direct? Illegal, absolutely illegal. Someone arrest you already.
Still, his face is as calm and relaxed as ever; you wouldnât have noticed anything was wrong if not for the colour beginning to dust his cheeks.
âWhat specifically about me?â He could be digging himself a deeper hole, but all the same, he could use this to turn things around.
You rolled your eyes at him, as though the answer was obvious. âEverything, pretty muchâ though especially your, letâs call it the non-princely persona. Iâm onto you, Chigasaki-san~â
He resisted the urge to laugh, pushing down the bubbling feelings of excitement that threatened to leave him.
âNot if I expose you first, sweetheart~â he threatened jokingly.
Thus began a game that would end sooner than both of you expected.
âChigasaki-san, is it alright if we end our planning session early today?â you asked him, picking up your mug and placing it between your lips. He found himself mirroring you, drinking his coffee as well before responding.
âSure. You have something you need to do?â He asked curiously, the dip in his smile showing the slightest disappointment on his features.
Work was still stressful as always but your presence, especially over the past week, had made things bearable if not enjoyable at points.
âYeah. I have to pick up something from a store and I donât wanna rush before closing time,â you explained, setting the now-empty ceramic down. âThank you for the drink, Chigasaki-san. Itâs easier to work with no one to bother us, you know?â
âDonât mention it. You treated me yesterday, so itâs my turn now,â he waved off, shutting his laptop to begin packing up his things. âNeed me to drive you to⊠wherever?â
The two of you exited the coffee shop, the cool breeze hitting your faces as the two of you descended the stairs. As you turned to greet him farewell he fought to keep his hand still as he looked at your wind-blown hair, slightly unruly but endearing at the same time.
âIf I didnât know you better Iâd say you just wanted to be around me a little longer,â a soft, airy laugh escaping your throat. A smile touched the corners of his mouth and played in the laugh lines beside his eyes.
âWhoâs to say youâre wrong, though?â he watched the red creep from your cheeks to your neck, half reveling in his success and half wondering if it went any further. Heâs only a little dismayed that you hastily wished him goodbye and ran off to who knows where, but there was always tomorrow.
By the time you enter the game shop youâve calmed down, for the most part, hair still a little disheveled but otherwise alright. Did playing around and teasing him finally come to bite you in the ass?
Ugh, that felt like a moment in otome games where the MC decides to tease the ML and the comeback has them all flustered and they run away.
Okay, thatâs exactly what happened.
Seriously, you were an adult, what were you doing acting like a teenager? Did the dating simulators infect your brain or something?
You browsed through the new figurines to distract yourself, waiting for the inventory manager to retrieve the game you pre-ordered a while back. Once you and Itaru Chigasaki finished this deal with GeneSys you were going to immediately put in all your free hours into playing the game.
From the corner of your eye, you could see a familiar character, his figurine hidden a couple rows back.
âDamn, havenât seen you in a while,â you muttered to yourself, grabbing the figurine. Shitty sequels aside, the OG game was totally fun. Maybe it was due for a replay of the game? You could probably dig up the cartridge somewhere in your room.
Distracted by your nostalgia, you wouldnât have noticed him if it wasnât for the narrow space causing you two to bump into each other.
âAh, sorryâŠâ you apologized for blocking the way, about to put back the figurine and move on until you heard your name.
Shit, you knew that voice all too well.
âChigasaki-san?!â you exclaimed, taking in his widened eyes and knowing your expression wasnât too far off from his own.
Once the initial wore off, rationality and relief took place. To think you were hiding the extent of your, uh, gaming obsession when in reality he wasnât too far off, as far as you could tell by the sleek, limited-edition controller he was holding.
Yeah, he might even be worse than you.
âWhen I implied wanting to spend more time with you, I didnât think itâd be like this,â he said, a good-natured laugh leaving him. Despite your original embarrassment, you followed suit soon enough.
âI guess we both ended up seeing each otherâs secret pastimes at the same time, huh?â you replied, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all.
âI was right though,â you began, watching Itaruâs eyebrow quirk upwards.
âRight about what?â
âLiking this hidden side of you,â you smiled in delight as he looked at you uncontrollably fond, finally getting to fix your hair with his free hand.
Heâll ask you out properly some other time, but for nowâŠ
âJust the hidden side of me?â he teased, his hand sliding from the top of your head to poke your cheek. âMeanwhile here I am, liking all of you.â
You huffed, rolling your eyes in faux exasperation. âI like all of you, too.â
want to order again?
#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! itaru#a3! x reader#itaru chigasaki#cafe: dessert menu#chigasaki itaru#itaru x reader#a3 itaru#a3! game#a3! actor training game
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and i can tell just what you want, you donât want to be alone
no trigger warnings!
my half of a trade with the legendary @fakenewsies ! dylan i literally love you with all my heart and i really hope you enjoy angsty yearning new misfits redfinch because i sure do!
read it here on ao3!
The room is silent, aside from the sound of someone clicking away at a keyboard. Finch likes to work in the dark. Thereâs a soft turquoise glow beneath his hands, occasionally blocked out by his fingers flashing across the keys. Artificial light from his monitor acts as a primary light source. Albert always scolds him, tells him heâll strain his eyes. End his own career before he hits twenty-one. Finch ignores him.
âHey, asshole. Itâs 2am. Go to bed,â a bleary voice mumbles from somewhere behind him. Finch lifts his head just a little, enough to indicate he heard. He doesnât reward his visitor with any kind of verbal response. Maybe if he stays quiet, the other boy will drop it and go back to bed.
Instead, thereâs a quiet sigh from behind him. Footsteps. The chair next to him is now occupied by a taller boy, ginger hair gleaming dully in the blue light. His whiskey-coloured eyes flicker over Finchâs work in vague interest, but they both know he doesnât understand the lines of code covering the screen.
âGo to bed,â Finch murmurs, eyes flicking between his screen and Albertâs face.
The screen illuminates the high points of his face, making those sharp cheekbones seem all the more dangerous. Albertâs eyes linger for just a little too long.
âAinât that what I just told you to do?â he teases, although thereâs no real heat in his voice. If you listen close enough, thereâs maybe a note of concern.
Finch doesnât know why Albert acts surprised. He doesnât sleep at night. Itâs the most productive time of day. Thatâs something heâll maintain until the end of time and nobody could convince him otherwise. No distractions, aside from the one sitting beside him right now.
âI got work to do,â Finch answers simply, taking another sip from the can beside him. One of those ridiculous energy drinks Albert got him hooked on. If they didnât help him work so well, he might find it within him to be annoyed. âYou gonna sit there all night?â
Albert yawns, stretches his arms about above his head. Shifts in the chair. That trademark smirk curls his lips upwards. âSure,â he answers. âWhy not?â
âDonât you have work tomorrow?â he tries again. Heâs not really trying to get rid of Albert. Not properly. There are much more effective methods for getting people out of his workspace, and those often involve the pistol strapped to his hip. Finch doesnât take interruptions very well.
âI do. But I donât have anything important planned. You know how it is,â Albert supplies. Drawls a little on the word important. âSo I can afford to stay up a little.â
With a heavy sigh, Finch finally turns away from his work. He doesnât shut off the computer just yet. Keeping up the pretence Albert is actually going to leave is another thing Finch wonât address. But itâs impossible to concentrate with the boy by his side, and he knows Albert wonât let him anyway.
âFine. Whaddya want, idiot?â Finch relents, although his tone lacks any venom.
âYou,â Albert answers, simple and quiet.
They play this game every day. Albert disrupts Finchâs work, that intention is clear as day, but they donât really talk. Albert has a million people he can go to for a quick chat, and Finch isnât one of them. Never will be one of them. Thereâs a little exchange back and forth, and Finch is kissing Albert, biting him, and Albert just grins against his lips. Takes whatever he can get. The next day, itâs the same. Nothing ever happened. Just part of their daily routines, a rite of passage they canât rid themselves of. Finch canât say he doesnât enjoy it.
âThatâs what you always say,â he snarks back, rolling his eyes. No fun if he doesnât put up a fight, Finch always says.
If Albert hears him, he doesnât grace that comment with a response. Instead he changes the subject, the ghost of a fond smile tugging at his lips.
âYou remember when we met?â
Of course he does. How Finch could forget is a better question. But he canât answer too quickly, because then Albert will know he thinks about him, and that ruins the whole illusion. So the resulting silence is prolonged, while Finch pretends to mull over the finer details.
Albertâs been part of the New Misfits movement far longer than Finch â sometimes he jokes about being born into it, having no other choice in life. His father has been Head Engineer since before the boy can remember. It only makes sense for his son to follow in his footsteps, and be handed a job as soon as heâs capable of building the required tech.
Finch, however, didnât really know about the movement until he turned eighteen. Every child in Eastgate is fed the regulated propaganda throughout their school lives, even though Finch has always been just a little suspicious of how the most impoverished city in the country was now home to the most cutting-edge technology. Something is just a little too good to be true. Thereâs an ulterior motive somewhere.
Nobody questions it, though. To go against Cyber Mind Corporations is essentially treason.
Some kids get lucky, though. The job of the New Misfitsâ recruiters is simple â shatter the rose-tinted glasses placed over their eyes, and hit the youngest, most impressionable members of society with a large dose of reality.
Finch feels like he cut himself on the glass. To this day, he credits a certain Jack Kelly with saving his life. The young boy makes him understand, promises him something better. Cyber Mindâs need for totalitarian control leaves no room for individuality â or even free thought. It was mind control, Jack tells him, and Finch canât find a reason to argue back. The evidence is damning.
He accepts the invitation in a heartbeat.
When he first arrives, Jack explains something about moving him into a new building. State-of-the-art, completed shortly before Finchâs arrival. He isnât really listening, though. He doesnât care, truthfully, so long as he has somewhere quiet to work, as promised.
Albert more or less stumbles into his life three days later.
Originally, the young technician is sent over to help fix up his office. Someone else called out sick, and Albertâs the only person available. Other excuses in that vein. As ever, he doesnât really listen to the string of apologies and explanations. Patience is a virtue that simply evades Finch. If it were up to him, this would have been done days before.
Even despite his best efforts to ignore it, Finch is drawn to him. Heâs like a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else heâs met. Bright ginger hair, eyes that sparkle when he laughs, broad shoulders. Finch wants to hate him. Wants to slap that stupid smile off his face. He also wants to know how those hands would feel wrapped around his neck, just a little too much pressure. Albert works quickly, a cheeky grin plastered across his face as he cracks the occasional joke with enthusiasm you couldnât possibly fake. He really isnât the type of person Finch actively seeks out, and yet itâs simply impossible to deny the connection when you first encounter your soulmate.
(If you believe in soulmates, that is. Finch doesnât.)
Thatâs how Finch eventually finds himself here, curled in an oversized chair with multiple brightly-lit monitors surrounding him, and the sound of another person breathing beside him. Itâs quiet, almost serene, and he likes it that way.
Gradually, hushed conversations turn into fleeting touches and stolen kisses. They both pretend like they donât want it, theyâre not interested, they donât need it, but thereâs something addictive in the way their bodies press together in a darkened room. Albertâs lips are always slightly chapped as he kisses Finch. Strong hands on his waist. Warm. Inviting. He stays up through the night just to be beside the hacker. Finch can never bring himself to make Albert leave.
Most nights, they simply lay beside each other. Albertâs arm drapes lazily over Finchâs torso, tracing nonsensical patterns across pale skin. Thereâs a strange intimacy in simply lying beside someone, feeling the rise and fall of their chest. The sound of his heartbeat softly thudding when Finch lays his head down on his sternum. Albertâs fingertips are just a little calloused.
Sometimes Albert takes him apart, however he damn wants, while Finch whispers his name over and over like some sacred mantra. Funny, because Finch never really saw the point in religion. The boy above him could be one, though. Those nights are few and far between, nothing more than a carnal need, and the next day itâs almost forgotten. Almost. Those events are eternally emblazoned into both boyâs memories. Dark marks on Finchâs hips and shoulders and neck serve as a more visual reminder. There are some things you just donât forget.
More often than not, they just sleep. Pure and simple as that. Finch wakes up the following afternoon alone, but that suits him just fine. Albert has his own life. The world doesnât revolve around Finch.
Finch wouldnât say heâs in love. Love is too complicated for such a simple arrangement. Words like that have a tendency to ruin. He just enjoys having Albert around. Maybe thatâs the answer he finds himself searching for when he rolls onto the cold side of the bed in the afternoon sunlight. Thinking too hard makes his head hurt.
On that note, heâs been thinking too long. He should answer Albertâs question.
âYeah. I do.â
Thereâs a smile on Albertâs face when Finch finally refocuses. Familiar. âIâm glad.â
Finch snorts. âYouâre fucking weird.â
âJust the way you like me,â he answers. Always has a quick remark resting on the tip of his tongue.
âWho said I like you?â Finch challenges, bringing his long legs up to cross them beneath him. He considers switching the monitor off. No, not yet â that would fuel Albertâs ego just a little too much.
Albert just smiles. The fondness travels right to those damn eyes, the colour of honeyed whiskey when the light hits them just right. âCall it a sixth sense,â he replies. Finch canât decide if he wants to slap him or kiss him.
Finch settles for rolling his eyes, shifting again to get comfortable. âWhat made you ask that?â
âBeen two years today since you got here,â Albert explains. âThought we should celebrate.â
Two years? Had it really been that long? Finch doesnât bother to keep track of things like that. Anniversaries are far too sentimental. Theyâll ruin a perfectly good day when those events inevitably become twisted by trauma.
âDamn,â he laughs, although the small smirk twisting his lips upwards betrays him. âDidnât think I'd last that long.â
âYou shut up,â Albert groans, reaching out to swat Finchâs hand away from the keyboard. Maybe heâll stop working. âShut the fuck up. Such a fuckinâ attention whore.â
âAny excuse to call me a whore,â Finch answers breezily, finally leaning forward to shut off the monitor. A silent invitation. Heâs grown bored of the small talk, in that way he so often does. The sudden darkness makes Finchâs breath catch in his throat.
Itâs practically pitch black, aside from a few coloured lights that glow dimly, to indicate the machines surrounding them still work as they should. Not quite enough to see properly, mind. He hears shifting from beside him.
Albertâs hand comes to rest on his hip, pulling Finch closer. âCâmere,â he breathes, and Finch doesnât resist. He lets Albert guide him into his lap, those calloused hands on his body, straddling his waist. Lips press hard against his own, and suddenly Finch canât focus on anything but the way Albert grips his waist, how their lips slot together messily.
âMm, Al,â he mumbles, pulling away slightly. Their foreheads rest together, and Finchâs eyes glisten with something incomprehensible in the low light.
âYeah?â Albert whispers. His lips ghost over Finchâs again. It takes everything not to pull him back in again, kiss him with a desperate passion that burns somewhere deep within Finch. He likes keeping Albert at an armâs length, always on his toes. Doing that would only provide him with the answers to questions Finch would never hear.
So instead he rests his head on Albertâs shoulder, face tilted slightly so he can mouth at the boyâs throat. Normally heâll bite, sink his teeth in until he can taste the first hint of blood on his tongue. Likes the way Albertâs skin tastes. Albert groans, and Finch feels the vibrations in his throat. Feels good. Brings him back to the reality of the situation. Itâs the only answer heâll provide, because he doesnât want to think up a verbal response.
âWe should head to bed,â Albert suggests, although any sense of urgency is lacking. Theyâre both happy to remain here a little longer.
âWhatever you want.â Finch replies sleepily, nipping at the column of Albertâs neck. He makes no movement to leave, and Albert doesnât seem inclined to, either.
The silence drags on a little longer, and he listens to Albertâs heartbeat. Feels the way he breathes, how his fingers instinctively trace the sharp ridges of Finchâs spine. Neither boy moves.
âDo you love me?â
That question startles Finch, although he doesnât make it obvious. If Albert was paying enough attention, he might notice the way Finchâs breath seems to falter a little. Itâs unlikely he would.
âI dunno. Loveâs weird.â
Itâs not the answer Albert wants, but itâs the answer heâs getting. This is not the time for soul-searching, or trying to find answers Finch isnât sure he wants to hear. Love is complex and messy and ends in flames. Heâs never seen the point in labels.
Albert hides his reaction well. Doesnât even flinch. Honestly, itâs almost impressive.
âIs that a no, then?â he asks, and if heâs trying to cover the hurt in his voice itâs slightly less successful.
âDid I say that?â Finch responds. No, he didnât. âI said I donât know. Not really an easy question, is it?â
âSâppose not.â
The silence isnât awkward, but itâs not as comfortable as usual. Finch shifts a little, loosens his grip around Albertâs neck. He doesnât pull away completely, because that would send all the wrong messages, but he raises his head enough to meet those irritatingly beautiful eyes.
âAre you mad?â Finch asks, after just a few moments too long. The question lacks any kind of concern, because he can work that answer out for himself.
Albert hesitates. âWhy would I be mad?â
âBecause youâre in love with me.â
âI never said that.â
âLove is stupid.â
âYouâre so full of yourself.â
Finch laughs, and pulls himself upright. Slots their lips together. Itâs not love, it never has been, but itâs something close. Albert reciprocates, because he always does.
âDonât love me,â Finch whispers. âThere are better ways to waste your time.â
Albert smirks, spotting the challenge in Finchâs eyes. âDonât flatter yourself too much. That egoâs gettinâ too big for you.â
And just like that, the moment is gone. Albert blinks, and the weight on his lap vanishes. Finch stands right in front of him, a cocky smirk playing at his lips. Albert could kill him.
âBedtime,â he instructs, the lilting quality of his voice akin to laughter. Finch doesnât laugh very often. Itâs the best Albert can get. âDon't want you oversleeping tomorrow.â
When Finch decides to play difficult, Albert surrenders. Itâs the one battle he canât win. So he relents, gets to his feet. Sitting in the same position for so long only rewards him with cramped muscles. Absently, he wonders how Finch copes. He stretches.
âWhoâs place?â he asks. Finch doesnât bother looking over his shoulder, already thumbing through a colourful keychain for his room key. Itâs a slim plastic keycard, black with turquoise trim, the most easily distinguishable key on the whole keychain. Honestly, heâs fiddling with the keys to waste time.
âMineâs closer.â Finch says. Albert doesnât say anything, just follows close behind. Part of him wants to put his hands on Finchâs hips and draw the boy back, nipping at the nape of his neck. Biting. See what sounds he can draw from him.
But he doesnât. He lets Finch walk away, and for a few moments he just stands there. Watches. That boy is a force to be reckoned with, in more ways than one. Albert loves that.
âYou just gonna stand there?â he challenges, glancing over his shoulder to smirk at Albert with a cocky glint in his eyes. Heâs got the upper hand now, and he knows it. Thatâs the thing with them. Itâs like a constant power struggle, although nobody ever truly puts up a fight. Maybe itâs more like an involuntary exchange of power.
Albert just smiles back at him, no teeth, and lets Finch lead him into the darkened corridor. Most people would be asleep by now. Normal people would be asleep by now. In fact, theyâre probably the only people still awake in this area of the complex. Itâs nice.
Finchâs apartment is close to his office, located just round the corner towards the right wing of the building. Their hands brush against each other every so often as they walk, shoulders bumping together playfully. Albert doesnât talk, and Finch has nothing to respond to. The silence is comfortable.
âHey,â Albert murmurs, as Finch slides the card into the reader. It buzzes softly, and the lock clicks open.
Finch hums his acknowledgement, hitting a switch by the door as he enters and letting the bright, artificial lights sting his eyes. Takes a moment to adjust. Itâs a small apartment, really â every memberâs quarters were designed to accommodate their every living need, and little more than that. Heâs not a man of material things, though, and minimalism suits him just fine.
Albert lets the door close behind them, automatic lock sliding into place. Listens to the little click. He didnât expect a verbal answer, really. So he continues, âAre you happy here?â
âLoaded question,â Finch murmurs, keys clattering onto plastic as he passes a side table. Dark eyes are now fixating entirely on the neon cityscape visible through the obnoxiously large windows dominating the outer wall of his apartment. He wonât look at Albert. âDefine âhappyâ.â
âOkay.â Albert smirks, leaning against the nearest wall. He observes the way Finchâs eyes flicker from building to building, taking in the lights. Eastgate always looks prettier by night. âFulfilled, I guess. Like youâre doinâ something useful.â
Finch seems to consider those words, then nods slowly. His eyes never leave the window. He misses the stars, bleached out by the brightness of the city below. âItâs pretty obvious weâre doing something useful. Isnât this whole thing about freeing people?â
âWell, yeah, thatâs the whole point, but youâreâŠâ he trails off, searches for the right words. â...difficult to read.â
âI donât know what you mean,â Finch mutters, but he does. Vulnerability is a weakness. So he builds his walls high and answers everything with the same set of generic responses, and it keeps people off his back. They can think what they like of him, truthfully, because Finch doesnât care. Opinions get you shot.
Albert lets out a soft sigh, resignation colouring the sound. If Finch doesnât want to talk, he wonât. Thereâs no way around that. âWe should sleep,â he suggests, completely changing tack.
Finch doesnât respond until a pair of arms wrap around his middle, the weight on his shoulder familiar as Albert rests his head there. Itâs almost enough to tear his eyes away from the world outside. He leans into that familiar touch, exhales slowly. Albertâs chest is warm against his back.
âDo you trust me?â Albert asks.
In another time, maybe trust is a substitute for love. Finch isnât too sure. Thereâs a strange feeling in his chest, a dull ache but a bright warmth at the same time. Itâs only ever present when Albert is there, but Finch could never tell him. He doesnât admit to things like that, not when thereâs no good reason to.
âAlmost.â
Itâll do, for now. Itâs been two years, and still Finch hasnât let his guard down entirely. Heâs not sure why Albertâs surprised.
âAlright.â
And then the moment is gone, and Finch changes the topic with practised ease. âCome to bed,â he murmurs, hand slipping easily into Albertâs. Itâs almost unfair how well their hands fit together. He wishes he didnât like it so much.
He lets the smaller boy lead him to the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he does so. Finch does the same, and when Albert turns around thereâs a pair of lips pressing hard against his own. Thinly veiled desperation. Hands fall to grip his waist, and Finchâs arms loop around Albertâs shoulders.
When they break apart, Finchâs eyes are shiny and his lips are swollen. âI donât love you, yâknow,â he whispers, and Albert drops his head to nip at the column of his neck.
âI know,â Albert breathes, hot breath ghosting against his skin. âI donât care.â
A soft, short laugh escapes Finch, and he lets Albert push him down onto the bed. He can taste skin between his teeth, the slight saltiness of sweat. Strong arms tangle around his slim waist, teeth painting dark stains across pale flesh. Albert holds him tight, the way he always does, and Finch feels a strange sense of completion.
Itâs not long after that he falls asleep, head resting on Albertâs chest and one of the boyâs strong arms wrapped tight around his waist. The gentle thud of a heartbeat, the sound of somebody breathing, the occasional rustling of movement in his sleep.
Strangely intimate.
When Finch wakes up, the afternoon sunlight is streaming through the cracks beneath his door. He never closed the blinds. With a yawn, he rolls over, onto the cold side of the bed. Heâs alone again.
#rayray writes#my writing#rayray trades#newsies#new misfits au#redfinch#albert dasilva#albert newsies#finch cortes#finch newsies#hurt/comfort#friends tag
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â§I Need You⧠Chapter 133
Consciousness had returned roughly an hour prior. But you laid in bed, in the darkness, sweating through a migraine with your eyes closed. Pretending you were still asleep. Hoping you might still drift away. Somewhere blank and comfortable and not⊠not here. Not in the set of circumstances you currently found yourself in. The universe was asking too much of you. Maybe it always was, but this time in particular⊠you werenât sure you could rise to this challenge. You werenât sure you had it in you.Â
But that was selfish. You couldnât just lie there forever, pitying yourself. Kilgrave was out there. Plotting. Waiting. Hope was still in prison. Jessica⊠who knew where she was. What she was dealing with. This would only get worse the less you did. But still⊠you just wanted to pretend you were normal. For once in your life.Â
You just wanted to pretend like Tony was asleep next to you. That you had nothing going on. Maybe that you didnât even run the business. Retired from both Stark Industries and the Avengers. Just⊠with him. Not worrying about anything else. Living a life. Not living whatever this was.Â
Crying was easy. A few tears slipped even past your closed lashes, and you raised a hand to stifle a sniffling sound and then put your entire arm over your eyes. It was strange. Your throat hurt, breathing hurt- but there was a blooming pain in your chest. Kind of like the same one youâd felt whenâŠÂ
âMaâamâŠâ JARVIS cut your introspection short, soft as his voice hovered over you. âWhat can I do to assist you?âÂ
What a⊠what a loaded question. A great question, too. If you had an answer, maybe youâd have given him one. You had no idea. What would help you? At this point? It was probably pathetic, that your first thought, the first thing out of your mouth in a scratchy voice was, âWhere is Tony?â You needed a guiding point right now. An anchor. ...more than that⊠you wanted to feel safe.Â
Sure. You were home. In the Tower- but⊠clearly that was not safe anymore. Kilgrave could grab anyone he wanted. Heâd made that point. Heâd made it very clear. Anyone could come up here. He could even come up here himself. Tell people at the front desk to give him clearance. Walk up the stairs. Do whatever he pleased. Come and take you- so home was not safe.Â
But Tony? Tony would keep you safe. Tony would protect you.Â
JARVISâ silence was telling. He was thinking. Trying to formulate an answer for you that wouldnât be upsetting. Which was ultimately revealing of where Tony was. You vaguely remembered through your trauma-fueled fog begging Tony not to leave. Because outside, Kilgrave could just whisper something in his ear anywhere he pleased and-Â
âJARVIS?âÂ
âMr. Stark had organized a team meeting in Conference Room One to brief them on the details of what happened.â
Okay. Tony had done that. Right. âWhen was that?âÂ
âSeveral hours ago.âÂ
âHow many exactly? What time is it right now?â JARVIS dodging you meant bad things. It meant Tony had instructed him to keep you in the dark. Probably to save your feelings. Or to appease you. ...or keep you from falling into another spiral.Â
Oh god. Uneasy hot shame filtered through you. Had the entire team witnessed you heaving and crying on the carpet? ...oh god.Â
âIt is currently 5:04 in the morning.âÂ
âTonyâs not here, is he.â Shaking your head as you slowly edged up on your arms so that you could sit forward. A quick dizzy haze clouded over you, encouraging you to shift back and rest against the headboard once you were upright.Â
âHe will return soon, maâam.âÂ
Why had he left? Where was he going? What was he doing? After everything heâd just witnessed, it felt awfully dangerous to think heâd left so suddenly. He was probably after something- a quick spike of terror surged. âJARVIS tell me heâs not going after Kilgrave.âÂ
Thankfully, JARVIS was quick in responding this time. âHe was not, maâam.âÂ
You tried to time your breaths, to back yourself off that sudden edge. Good. Okay. So⊠Tony wasnât going after Kilgrave. Maybe things were still good. But then⊠where? âIs anyone still in the conference room?â That was several hours ago as JARVIS had put it. Tony had sat the team down and probably given them a stern talking to. ...one of them more than anyone else, you imagined.Â
So it was absolutely no surprise to hear the answer to that. âMr. Rogers is still there.âÂ
Steve. Tony had sat him down there and⊠he still hadnât budged. Hours later.Â
You made yourself get up. Because you couldnât keep sitting in bed. Steve was suffering, as you had been suffering. As Jessica had suffered and as Hope was suffering. ...this needed to end. Just⊠your brain was too rattled (maybe even literally now) to begin to unravel that puzzle. But that was okay. Something in you had an inkling that wherever Tony had gone, it was to fix this. So⊠you leaned on that strength where you had nothing left. And youâd thank him later for it.Â
After getting a little more cleaned up and another round of questioning, you found that Bruce was asleep at his desk in the lab, and Clint and Thor were wandering around on their floor. Tony had taken Natasha with him. A slightly interesting turn of events. But, whatever his reasoning, you trusted it.Â
Getting dressed was surprisingly difficult. You put on a long dress and an equally long cardigan. Something soft and breezy and⊠easy to breathe in. All parts of you kind of felt like they were falling apart slowly. Even moving around was hard. But you had to. So you did. Before leaving the bedroom you took one long look at your Heart Reactor. Tony had set it aside on the night table for you. And, pressing it to your chest, you felt just a little safer. A little. In the heat of the moment where it would have served you to have it on, youâd completely forwent the thought. Panic had taken true hold along with the need to try and save Steve. Making the Reactor quite useless in the moment where it maybe would have saved you. But perhaps that was better. Suiting up against him⊠that may have turned out worse.Â
You made a pot of coffee and a light breakfast. Literally just toast with butter. Then putting it all on a tray, you went to the elevator- only to realize it was still broken. In fact, there was still a mess on the floor. The window was still busted. Not ideal. That meant Tony really had been gone for a long time. It would all have to get dealt with later.Â
No part of you wanted to take the stairs but⊠that was exactly what you did. And that took a toll on you, too. The stairwell door was a struggle, balancing the tray on your knee to open it. Descending all those stairs was a struggle. Opening the next door was a struggle. Conference Room Oneâs windows were blacked out. Which was probably not a good sign. And, as you moved to balance the tray again to key in your security code, the panel flashed green before you touched it, the door opened just a quarter, and JARVIS spoke. âGo ahead, Ms. INY.âÂ
âThank you.â One less thing to do.
The room was a lightshow mess. The holographic projector at the center of the table was working double overtime, littering the air with all sorts of files, data, text dumps, pictures, and⊠videos. One of which you couldnât bear to look at. The second you made eye contact with the footage you had to turn away. But it seemed Steve was mesmerized by it.Â
He was standing on the opposite end of the room facing the windows, arms crossed tight, back to you. Watching the video of him attacking you on repeat. Guilt loomed over him like a storm cloud. Anger was not too far behind. You set the tray down carefully on the table and then started closing all those virtual boxes to help abate the migraine that had already settled. âI have coffeeâŠâ Your voice was still scratchy, but even more so it was small.Â
Still. He heard you. And tensed all the more. Seeming to have to take in a long breath before he could turn to face you. The two of you stared at one another, and he frowned long before words found their way out of his mouth. âYou should be resting. Are you alright to be up?â About all the strength he could seem to muster, as he turned away again.Â
Taking the initiative, as that seemed your eternal place in life, you moved around the table to his side. âIâm okay.âÂ
He just shook his head. âI donât see how you could be.âÂ
âWell I am.â Firm then as you reached up to swipe the window away to the front of the room. As you reached back, you settled your hand on his arm. âThis isnât your fault.â When he started shaking his head, you gave him a harder grip, pushing him a little to look at you. âYou told me you understood he was dangerous. And you told me nobody blamed me. Iâm not blaming you, either.â His words to you, when youâd arrived home and finally gotten out of bed. It felt like a different lifetime ago.Â
His gaze finally lifted to yours again and he dropped his arms. Just the way he was looking at you, with those soft, broken blue eyes⊠âI could have killed you. I almost did.âÂ
âYou didnât.âÂ
âHe told me what to do, if you hung up. But when I put my hands around your neck and looked down at you⊠there was this little voice in the back of my head. Begging me to let go. But I still couldnât stop myself. And-âÂ
âYou didnât kill me.â Doubling down about as hard as you were able to.Â
âWhat if I had?â He was struggling intensely with this. Which was fair. He really had almost murdered you. ButâŠÂ
âYou didnât.â Again. As many times as you needed to say it. âAnd⊠if you did⊠it still wouldnât have been your fault. You didnât want to, Steve. How much clearer can you make it to yourself?âÂ
His eyes left yours again and he shook his head. âI donât know.â You werenât really sure what to say to make this better yet, but his next question shocked you. âDid you hurt anybody while you were with him?â
Your heart must have still been weak. Because your body felt like giving out all of a sudden. Why would he ask that? His own guilt tied with yours then. Unable to help yourself. âI did. Yes.âÂ
The worst part was⊠you still couldnât remember her name.Â
But at least this finally seemed to snap him out of it. âI shouldnât have asked- Iâm sorry. I just donât know what to make of all this yet.â Except for stewing in agonizing guilt for hours. No doubt⊠no doubt because Tony had either had too much or too little to say about it. It would be hard, for you to blame him. But stillâŠÂ
âItâs okay.âÂ
âIs it?â It seemed like he wanted to be punished. To get some relief from what heâd done.Â
âIâm the one he made you hurt. So I say itâs okay. I get to do that.â You tried for a smile. This hurt, too, for some reason. Maybe more so when his gaze lifted along with his brows as he looked at you. And his own was far weaker by comparison.Â
Finally deciding to chance the moment, you settled your hand on his shoulder, lifting up a little more in order to wrap your arms around him and hug him. Heâd given you such a bone crushing hug when youâd come downstairs the first time after being kidnapped. This was nowhere near as good. You just didnât have it in you. But⊠it was also the first time you had felt this connected to him in a while. It was a terrible thing, that did it, for sure.Â
Still⊠it was nice. When he finally admitted defeat and reciprocated. It lasted too little, the sound of the door opening again striking your anxiety a little too quickly- and who came in even more than that. Yet, somehow, you were almost unsurprised to see Jessica Jones walking in. She looked pretty roughed up, too.
âWhat are you doing here?â Unable to help the words ejecting out of you.Â
Coming in behind her was a stony looking pair. Natasha and then Tony. Though Jessica did answer, as she began to walk around the room, looking at all the windows still up. âIâm here as a favor.âÂ
âWhat?â Favor? You certainly werenât someone she owed anything to.Â
âDonât ask.âÂ
Jessicaâs deadpan was overridden, however, by Natasha helpfully answering. âWe just saved her sisterâs life.âÂ
 Confusion struck you pretty hard. âI feel like Iâm missing some pieces here.â
 Hand to her hip, Jessica was quick to interrupt Tony. âLook- just so Iâm not here all day- they forcefully got in the middle of something I could handle.â
 Natasha smiled in that wry way of hers. âIsnât that a lovely thank you.â
 But when you still shot that confused look Jessicaâs way she rolled her eyes, shook her head, and turned around. âShe pissed off Kilgrave this afternoon with that radio shit. Because sheâs a moron. Like you.â
 Trish Talk. Ah. So she and Trish were related. It made sense, now that you thought about it. Jessica had probably organized the talk with Hope and Jeri in the first place- ...and if you werenât in a terrible mood, you might have found it hilarious that Jeri had undermined her too.
Tony closed the door behind him. âSo, yeah. Weâre calling this a favor.â Instinctively you were drawn to him, and as you moved to stand in front of him, looking up, his hands raised, touching gently over your shoulders. âYou okay?â Expression changed completely as he spoke to you.Â
âIâm managing. Iâll be alright.â Quite a different answer than youâd given Steve, but the context of the question was a bit more far reaching when Tony asked it of you.Â
âI can take you back upstairs, if you want. You donât need to be here for this.â His hands slid up just a little bit more, fingers brushing along the sides of your neck.Â
You very much longed to live in a world where you could both go upstairs and just be normal. Or one where you could just melt into him here, or even fold in to be held in his strong embrace. But⊠you ended up shaking your head. âItâs okay. ...what is this exactly?âÂ
Jessica made a noise that drew both your attention. She then hooked her thumb at the video window still playing the looping footage of Steveâs attack. âIâm gonna guess this isnât the usual team disagreement.â When one sweeping glance around the room told her all she needed to know, her grin was extremely bitter, shaking her head and turning back to look at it. âSo he got to you already. Is that why Iâm here? I canât help you.âÂ
Natasha sat down. âAnd if you could?âÂ
âThere is no could. I canât help you. So if thatâs what this is about-âÂ
Tony stepped away from you, hands pressed together, fingers pointed in her direction. âActually what youâre here about is that weâre tired of the games.âÂ
Jessica rolled her eyes. âGet in line.âÂ
Pulling a few files into the air, he sent them in front of her. They looked like pictures from the Tower security camera watching the perimeter. All of a man- ...a man watching you. But you had no idea who he was. Tony asked, âYou know this guy? And- just to cut time here- we know you know. So be honest.âÂ
While you expected some smarmy reply from her, she actually looked a little upset. But, finally. âYeah I know him. Malcolm. Heâs my deadbeat, drugged out neighbor.â She crossed her arms, turning to look at you. âHeâs been following you around?âÂ
Natasha answered for you. âFor the last week. And his close proximity to you suggests youâre working together orâŠâÂ
âThatâs what you brought me here for?â She scoffed, turning fully then to look at everyone in the room. âIâm not working with him, but you did just help me with a problem of my own. Probably the same problem.âÂ
Tony crossed his arms. âWell in that case, that puts you oh-for-two.â He sniffed a breath in. âSo the likely answer here being heâs working for Kilgrave.âÂ
You found your voice finally. âHeâs stalking the both of us- Kilgrave said on the phone⊠he saw both of us together. Malcolm must have taken pictures of us at Lukeâs bar.âÂ
Jessica nodded with another one of those angry smiles. âYeah. Well. Iâll kick his ass as soon as I get home. Are we done here?âÂ
Tony was quick and sharp, âNot even close.âÂ
âWhat do you even want from me? I canât help you. Look- Trish is making a public apology tomorrow for pissing him off, because thatâs about all she can do. If heâs already at the stage of picking your people off the street, my best advice to you is to leave the city.âÂ
Natasha made a very displeased face. âHeâs not invincible.âÂ
Steve put his hands on the back of the empty chair in front of him. âWe can take him down- we just need a plan-âÂ
Jessicaâs laugh was a hard, quick bark. âSure. So you try to take him out, letâs say from a distance, and he decides to tell everyone around him to kill themselves. What are you gonna do then? Heâs not above mass suicide. Heâs not even above using a kid as a meat shield if he has to. Thereâs nothing you can do.âÂ
It all felt hopeless. Even so, you couldnât help yourself. âWe canât just sit back and do nothing.âÂ
She let go of a jagged huff of air. âWhy not? Youâre pretty good at that.â Turning her back again to take a long look at that footage.Â
It was like yet another slap in the face but you had to try and ignore it. âSo we take my team off the roster. I actually agree with you-â Immediately came three voices of dissent but you kept talking, â-because of what happened- itâs not safe-âÂ
âWait.â Jessica stopped you and pointed to the footage again. âThis. Here.â The end of the scuffle. âIâve never seen someone⊠walk off a command if they didnât finish-â Maybe it was because you were radiating guilt at this point. But when she turned to look at you, your eyes dropped. And that did it. âItâs you.â Her sudden anger overshadowed everything else. Like yet another hand wrapping around your throat as she turned hard. âYou could do that? The whole time?âÂ
Her quick advances towards you were stopped not only by Tony stepping in her path, but by Natasha getting up and Steve moving to the edge of the table. But it was still just her and Tony. Staring each other down. âWhat if she says yes? Then what? Does it change anything?âÂ
âIt changes everything.â She eased back, but you got the feeling that she never once felt out of control. If she wanted to, she could probably chuck Tony through the glass in the room and go straight for you. If she wanted to. But despite that, she was a little outmatched here. âYou want me to spoonfeed you a plan? When she can do that?âÂ
You tried to push past it all. âI think the point is weâre trying to work together here. Because this has to stop. And itâs getting worse.âÂ
She scoffed. âYouâre right about that. Fine. You want me to agree with you? I agree with you. I think you should get the supers out of here. Publicly. Thatâll at least slow him down. Keep all the little people out of harmâs way. Thatâs what youâre worried about, right? Suddenly?âÂ
âThatâs been my main concern the whole time!â Getting perhaps overly defensive.Â
Tony was still standing in her way as she pointed her finger your way accusingly. âYou were worried about the wrong innocent people.âÂ
Natasha made a face. âIs there such a thing?âÂ
Tony shrugged. âNews to me.âÂ
Jessica hung her head back for a moment with a frustrated gurgle. âUgh. Spare me the hero bullshit.âÂ
Steve was apparently still a little too raw, because he came up on the other side of her. âYou may wanna start giving a damn about all of this. It goes beyond a single court case. Beyond a single person.âÂ
She just stared him down. âLook. I know he made you choke out your friend and that probably didnât feel very nice but it doesnât even come close to the other shit heâs done.âÂ
âSo start talking.â It was rare to see Steve this dark.Â
Maybe it rattled her, because she backed off. A little. âItâs useless information. Why go over what heâs done. Itâs what heâs going to do.âÂ
Tony turned to her again. âAnd you think thatâs what? Picking the two of you up? Just you two? For what reason?â
Jessicaâs anger was poked again. âBecause heâs fucking deranged. You honestly donât get that yet? I thought you were supposed to be smart.â She then held her hand towards you yet again. âAsk her. You dragged me here to ask me something you could have asked her. Ask her what heâs capable of. What he wants. What he did to her- I can only imagine- you have a wealth of knowledge standing right there. So what do you need me for?âÂ
When all eyes went to you, it was a poor reflex, that you shrunk back. Held on to yourself. You didnât want to think about that. You didnât want to go there again.Â
Maybe. Maybe Jessica was finally taking pity on you. She seemed to back off again. Shaking her head, âHeâs clearly obsessed. And he wonât stop until he gets what he wants. You want my favor in the form of advice? Leave. Heâll have less to work with. Which will make him a little more desperate. Especially if he already had a plan. Then I can figure something out.âÂ
âWe can.â You tried to offer.
But her cold stare told you otherwise. âYouâve done enough.âÂ
Tonyâs mouth twisted in a dry pout. âReally. Because from my understanding, thatâs a much different song than what you were singing earlier.âÂ
Finally. Taking her loss. âYeah. Well. That was before I saw that.â Nodding to the video. Still playing. Steve. Over you. Choking you near to death. âI didnât think heâd go that far. Even he has to know he has limits. Why piss off the merry band of idiots? He must think heâs untouchable.â She just shook her head. âYou people need to get out of here. Youâre a liability.âÂ
Steve, by contrast, was lighting up again. âWeâre not taking off just because you say so. This guy is dangerous, you just said it yourself.âÂ
She squared up to him. âRight. And what about when she said it? What made the difference then?â But, finally, everything died down. And she just seemed⊠tired. âLook. Iâll deal with Malcolm. Find out whatâs going on. Other than that, I donât have anything for you. Are we finished?âÂ
The air in the room went still and quiet, but Tony eventually stepped aside. However, âIâm letting you leave now, but just so you know. I donât consider the favor repaid.âÂ
Jessica rolled her eyes as she pushed past. âHow will I ever live with myself.âÂ
Already she was leaving, and you really hadnât had a chance to go over anything with her. This hadnât been productive at all. Which⊠was only going to hurt matters right now. You opened the door after her and closed it, leaving Steve, Tony, and Natasha in the room. âWait- Jessica-âÂ
âWhat now.â Turning to you, crossing her arms. Seeing her this close, maybe it was the light. Maybe it was the missing presence of the other Avengers. But she really did seem tired and drawn.Â
âHogarth wonât take my testimony.âÂ
She seemed to consider this for a moment before shrugging. âFine. Jeri knows what sheâs doing. If she thinks youâre useless, then youâre useless. Iâll figure something else out.â Already keen to leave. Again.
âShe said you wonât testify, either.â But you couldnât let her walk out. Not yet.Â
Her smile was tight, nodding twice over. âShe did, did she? Well. You can imagine I donât have time to present for court while Iâm trying to catch Kilgrave.âÂ
Excuses. Thatâs all it was. âStop making me out to be the same coward you are.âÂ
Finally she lifted her eyes to look at you. Stare at you. It took a long moment before she spoke again. âMaybe thatâs fair. Maybe I also donât give a shit. Things just got worse. I have way more to do now because of you and your people.âÂ
âI can help.âÂ
âI doubt it.â She turned away, seeming like she was going to leave. But⊠reconsidered. Though she wasnât facing you when she spoke. âWhen I need you, Iâll let you know. I have to think on it. Otherwise, just stay out of my way.â You waited, because she stayed standing there in silence. She must have been thinking. Then, finally, she turned just a quarter to look at you. âDoes Kilgrave know you can do that?â
 You just found yourself shaking your head with a weak shrug. âI donât know. I donât think so.â
 Her lips pressed together and then she nodded dully. âRight. Well. Get the idiots out of here. And weâll talk after that.â She moved to really leave after that.
The door of the conference room opened before you could say anything else. Continuing to argue with her was getting you nowhere anyway. She was very determined to be a brick wall. And⊠Tony was suddenly at your side. Your energy was waning. So it was easy to turn back to him, wrap your arms around his middle, and bury your face in his chest.Â
His arms came tight around you and you just soaked into him. Holding on. His voice was low and quiet when he found it. âIf you think the call is sending the team out, weâll do it. But Iâm not leaving you.â Making his intention clear here. And within it you felt the tremble of fear he was hiding so well. From everyone but you.Â
He was terrified. So were you.Â
Kilgrave could take the whole team. Make them march up to your bedroom. Just to make a point. But⊠it was the thought of him taking Tony that haunted you the most. You were reminded, briefly, of what Thor had said so long ago.Â
He may try to use it against you.
Heâd been speaking of Loki at the time, but it almost had held true. If that scepter hadnât failed on Tony, he had been setting the both of you up for failure. If Kilgrave got his hands on Tony⊠what would you do then?Â
You didnât have the strength to unload all of this right now. So, instead. You defaulted back to the selfsame cowardice youâd just accused Jessica of. âI need to lie down. Can we go back upstairs?â Tilting your head up to look at him.Â
His hands moved, palming your cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. âSure thing.âÂ
Youâd have to figure out how to make Tony leave. Even when you were in danger. Something that felt impossible. But the alternative⊠you couldnât bear to think about what might happen if you failed.Â
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