#if I don't include this part in chapter 13 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckets-and-trees · 14 days ago

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Red, White & True: Kansas to Tucson [10/13]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.5k Summary: The fallout from the interview with Oprah comes immediately, but with it is an unexpected attack that rocks you to your core.

Content/Warnings: discussion of women's health issues [notably pregnancy and abortion], deep fakes, political maneuvering, marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: Please pay attention to the content/warnings for this chapter. Thematically, we're going to get into some discussion about family planning, and I do think and hope I've given it the care and respect I think it deserves, but KNOW YOURSELF and know whether or not you have the bandwidth to read this without judgment. That said, if you've read the story to this point - a tenth chapter - and been okay with what I've included politically, I don't think you'll be shocked or offended by the discussions had here.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 12 - KANSAS CITY TO ATHENS]

The next morning, you are eating breakfast on the plane with Steve and Bucky in the private cabin on the Rogers campaign plane on the way to Tucson. You’re trying to hold off on being too tense or apprehensive, but a lot has already happened over social media while you slept. You’ve already done a lot of scrolling of your own and Jake and Lisa have already gone over the landscape of things so far with you and Steve and the core campaign staff.

The negative voices are loud. The hashtag #FakeFirstLady is trending on Twitter/X, along with countless memes mocking your relationship.

The headlines are brutal:

"ROGERS CAMPAIGN BUILT ON LIES: Captain America's Marriage a Sham"

"AMERICA'S GOLDEN BOY TARNISHED: Steve Rogers Admits to Political Marriage"

"CAPTAIN AMERICA OR CAPTAIN BETRAYAL”

But there are some people are praising the honesty, calling it a refreshing change from typical political marriages - and typical marriages, even, pointing out that a partnership built on shared values from the beginning over sparks or chemistry is a sensible and inspiring approach.

TikTok already has shops selling shirts and stickers that say “Blipped and Back,” people are clipping and posting their takes on parts of the interview, and BookTok is eating it up with many creators asking, “How long until we see the book based on this plot?”

You’ve been on BookTok, and so you know they’re speculating over more than that but aren’t surprised the sordid details weren’t included in the professional briefing.

You're trying to focus on your breakfast, but your mind keeps drifting to the swirling media storm.

You can't help but glance at your phone again, scrolling through the flood of notifications. The mix of support and vitriol is dizzying.

"You might want to put that away for a bit," Bucky suggests gently, noticing your furrowed brow. "It's not going to do you any good to keep reading all that right now."

Steve reaches over, taking your hand in his. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy," he says, his voice steady and reassuring. "But we're in this together, remember?"

You nod, squeezing his hand gratefully. "I know. It's just one thing to know it in theory and another to see it all playing out in real-time."

Just then, Jake enters the cabin, his face serious. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a situation developing."

Sophia, Lisa, and Sam enter swiftly right behind him.

Your stomach drops as you brace yourself for more bad news. "What is it?"

Jake grabs the remote from the side table and turns on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the cabin wall. The Fox News logo flashes across the screen as the sound comes to life.

"...and that's why this revelation about the Rogers' marriage is so troubling," a stern-faced commentator is saying. "It calls into question everything we thought we knew about Steve Rogers and his values."

Your heart races as you glance at Steve, whose jaw is clenched tight. Bucky leans forward, his eyes narrowed at the screen.

Another panelist, a woman with perfectly coiffed blonde hair, nods in agreement. "Absolutely, John. And let's not forget their non-answer about having children. When Oprah asked about their plans for a family, Mrs. Rogers was notably evasive." She refers to you as ‘Mrs. Rogers’ with so much sarcasm it’s mortifying.

The first commentator, John, picks things right back up. "Speaking of which, we may have an answer to whether or not Mrs. Rogers wants children from some information sent to us this morning."

Your heart stops as the first image fills the screen.

The woman continues, her voice dripping with sensationalism, "Our sources have provided us with some shocking photos that seem to show Mrs. Rogers entering a Planned Parenthood clinic from two years ago. And as you can see in these images, she appears to be visibly pregnant - probably five or six months along.”

The screen splits to show a second photo - the same woman, a slightly different angle - entering the clinic, and you don’t even know how to react because these images are such high quality you would believe they were real.

"According to our anonymous source," John jumps in eagerly, "Mrs. Rogers was there to terminate the pregnancy. If true, this raises serious questions about the Rogers' values and their fitness for the White House."

“We reached out to this Planned Parenthood clinic for comment, but they would only confirm that Mrs. Rogers had been a patient there.”

“That’s enough,” Steve nearly growls, and Jake mutes the screen.

The cabin falls silent, the tension palpable. You feel like you can't breathe, your mind reeling from the accusations being hurled at you on national television. Steve's hand tightens almost painfully around yours, but you don’t protest because you’re clutching it like a lifeline.

Jake turns to face the group, his expression grim. "I know we're all shocked by this, but we need to address it head-on. We've got to get ahead of this story before it spirals out of control. We've all read the opposition research file on you," he says, gesturing to the team. "There's no record of any pregnancy or abortion in your past, and I won’t judge you either way, but did you ev-"

“Wait a minute, Jake.”

It’s Sophia who takes a step forward, her voice sharp as she says, “She shouldn’t have to answer that question to us or anyone else, period. With the negative coverage that has reared its head since last night, the bulk of it is not being directed at Steve. The fire and the big guns are being directed straight at the woman in the situation - which is unsurprising, but ridiculously unfair.”

Your eyes burn and your throat aches as tears threaten to burst out of you, but you fight to keep them in. You’re gutted by what you’ve just seen on tv, angry at the reality Sophia has pointed out, but also moved by her fierce defense of you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Sophia's right. I shouldn't have to answer that question. But I will, because I want there to be no doubt." You look each person in the eye as you continue, "I have never been pregnant. I have never had an abortion. Those photos are fake."

Steve's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We need to shut this down immediately," he says, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

“There will be no shutting this down completely; it’s out there,” Jake counters, already typing furiously on his phone. "But we do have a press corps traveling with us who are going to want statements as soon as possible. I suggest you make them as soon as possible as it’s the most powerful option available to you to have any voice in the direction this narrative will go.”

Jake turns to you directly, and his voice softens. “Sophia was right to check me,” and at this he glances at your assistant. “I’m not going to step back, but I want to step right in line behind you and have you work directly with Lisa on what you want to say now that we’re stepping into this arena. You have a lot of power in this moment to direct the attention of this situation. And I think we all know this man,” he nods at Steve, “will back whatever you choose.”

You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself amidst the chaos swirling around you. The weight of the moment settles on your shoulders, but you feel Steve's steadying presence beside you and draw strength from it.

"Thank you, Jake," you say, your voice steadier than you feel. "And thank you, Sophia." You lock eyes with your assistant, conveying your gratitude for her fierce defense.

Turning to Lisa, you nod. "Let's draft a statement. I want to be clear and direct."

Lisa sits and pulls out her laptop, ready to take notes. "What key points do you want to hit?"

You consider for another moment, then begin, "First and foremost, I want to set the record straight. Those photos are fake - but rather than saying I’ve never had an abortion, I only want to say I’ve never been pregnant. A woman’s reproductive choices are her own, and I don’t want to elevate or disparage whether or not a woman has been or wants to be pregnant, nor whether or not she’s had or wanted to have an abortion. They’re all deeply personal choices and can change over the course of a woman’s life.

"Second, I want to confirm that I was indeed a patient at Planned Parenthood, as the report stated. But I want to use this as an opportunity to educate people about the wide range of essential health services they provide," you continue, your voice growing stronger as you speak.

“This is an excellent start,” Lisa affirms, her fingers flying across the keyboard of the laptop screen as she types. “We can tie into Steve’s healthcare plans with this, too,” Lisa says.

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing at the front of the press cabin, addressing the reporters, podcasters, and bloggers with Lisa and Steve standing just off to the side of you. After making your first point that you’ve never been pregnant and that any choice about whether or not to have children is deeply personal and can change over the course of time, you move into expanding on the value of Planned Parenthood clinics since you know they’re often misunderstood, misrepresented, and that they provide beneficial services some don’t even know about.

"When I was in college, working part-time and struggling to make ends meet, Planned Parenthood was there for me. They provided me with affordable, compassionate care when I needed it most."

You pause, glancing around the cabin before continuing. "I received my annual well-woman exams there, including pap smears and breast cancer screenings. They provided me with birth control and counseling on reproductive health. Planned Parenthood has been a crucial healthcare provider for me and millions of other women, especially those who are uninsured or underinsured.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of every word. "These clinics offer vital services beyond what many people realize - STI testing and treatment, prenatal care, and even primary care and mental health care services in some locations. They are often the only source of healthcare for many women in underserved communities."

A reporter raises her hand, and you nod for her to speak.

"Mrs. Rogers, how do you respond to critics who may say your support of Planned Parenthood conflicts with traditional family values?"

You meet her gaze steadily. "I believe that supporting women's health and reproductive rights is entirely consistent with family values. Healthy women build healthy families. Access to comprehensive healthcare, including family planning services, empowers women to make the best choices for themselves and their families."

"As for the doctored images being circulated," you continue, your voice growing firmer, "they are a blatant attempt to mislead the American people and distract from the real issues at hand. This kind of dirty politics has no place in our democracy. We should be focusing on healthcare reform, economic policies, education, climate change, and how we can build a stronger country.”

As you finish your statement, a flurry of hands shoot up, reporters eager to ask follow-up questions. You field a few more, your responses growing more confident with each answer. The cabin buzzes with the rapid-fire clicks of laptop keys and the occasional flash of a camera.

After about ten minutes, Lisa steps forward, gently touching your elbow. "Thank you all for your time," she addresses the press corps. "We'll be releasing a full statement shortly with additional details."

As you turn to leave, you catch sight of a young woman in the back, her press badge identifying her as a reporter for a small Midwestern paper. She's not raising her hand or shouting questions like the others, but there's an intensity in her gaze that catches your attention. You make a mental note to speak with her later, sensing there might be a story there.

Steve's hand finds the small of your back, following you back to the staff area of the plane, and the buzz of excited chatter from the press corps fades behind you as the door closes.

Back in the relative quiet of the staff cabin, you let out a long breath, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb away. This cabin, usually a hive of activity, seems almost serene now as some of the staff move around, working on the transcript of your press statement and the questions you fielded, jumping on social media, preparing for the events you’re all headed to once you hit the ground in Tucson.

“You did well,” Jake says.

You glance at Jake, grateful for the praise but still feeling the weight of the situation. "Thanks, but this is far from over, isn't it?"

Jake shakes his head. "You’re right. But you've given us a solid foundation to build on. Your statements were clear, compassionate, and hit all the right notes. We can work with this."

Steve, who's been uncharacteristically quiet, finally speaks up. "I'm proud of you," he says, his voice low and intense. "You handled that with grace and strength. But I can't help feeling responsible for putting you in this position."

You turn to him, seeing the guilt etched on his face. "Steve, we're in this together, remember? We knew there would be challenges. This is just... a bigger one than we anticipated."

Bucky, who's been watching the whole scene unfold, chimes in. He hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I was just thinking this might be an opportunity to do more than just defend ourselves. We could use this to push the conversation forward."

Jake nods thoughtfully. "Bucky’s right. It’s like I said earlier, we've got the nation's attention right now. What do you want to do with it?"

You consider for a moment, then turn to Lisa. "Can we set up a series of interviews and speaking engagements focused on women’s health and the lack of comprehensive knowledge and education? The US has one of the worst - if not the worst - maternal mortality rate among developed nations in the world, if I’m remembering correctly.”

You turn to Sophia. “You’ve been mentioning that I should be thinking about one or two causes I want to truly champion if I were to be elected. Looks like I’m locking in on one for sure.”

Steve pulls you into a tight embrace. "You are incredible," he murmurs into your hair. "Thank you for being so strong."

You burrow into him for a moment. His praise and reassurance bolster you in the moment, but you feel the tightrope you’re walking on getting higher and higher. You can only hope you won’t fall.

Once you pull away from Steve's embrace, you notice his gaze shift over your shoulder. His brow furrows slightly, and you turn to follow his line of sight. In the corner of the cabin, Bucky and Jake have their heads close together, engaged in an intense, hushed conversation. Their expressions are grave, and Bucky's metal arm whirs softly as he gesticulates, emphasizing whatever point he's making.

Steve clears his throat. "Hey, you two," he calls out, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. "What are you two strategizing?"

Bucky and Jake exchange a quick glance before Bucky straightens up, his steel-blue eyes meeting Steve's. "We were just discussing the photos," he says, his voice low and determined. "I want to see if I can track down the source."

The cabin seems to grow quieter, as Bucky continues. “Somebody doctored them, and they doctored them for a reason.”

Jake nods, his expression serious. "Bucky thinks he might be able to trace the origin of those photos. I’d like to know who we’re dealing with - they aren’t amateurs, and I doubt they’re officially on the campaign team of either of your opponents, but they have an agenda, and I want to get ahead of it."

"Is it even possible?” you ask. “And is it legal?"

Bucky's lips quirk into a small, wry smile. "I have some unique skills from my past that might come in handy. As for legal... well, I won’t cross any actual lines."

Steve looks conflicted, running a hand over his beard. "I don't know, Buck. We can't afford any more scandals right now."

"Which is exactly why we need to get ahead of this," Bucky argues. "If we can find out who's behind the root, we can potentially stop them before they escalate further."

Steve's jaw clenches as he mulls it over. "What exactly did you have in mind, Buck?"

"I've got some contacts from my previous line of work. They can trace the digital footprint of those images, maybe even identify the software used to create them. It's all above board, I promise."

You and Steve exchange a long look, a silent conversation passing between you. The weight of the decision hangs in the air, but after a moment, you both nod almost imperceptibly.

Steve turns back to Bucky, his voice low but resolute. "Alright, Buck. Go ahead. But tread carefully. We're walking a fine line here."

Bucky's face is set with determination. "I'll be discreet."

Bucky pulls out his phone and steps into the private cabin to make some calls.

Steve steps across the cabin to where Sophia is conferring with Lisa, their heads bent over a tablet as they likely discuss the upcoming schedule adjustments.

“There’s a Fox News reporter on the plane in our press group right now, isn’t there?” Steve asks Lisa. “I want him out as soon as we land,” Steve declares, his anger dialed back, but still palpable.

“Yes,” Lisa confirms, “Ryan Jackson. But he’s been a reasonably fair advocate for coverage of your campaign up to this point, and he’s actually the one who tipped us off about this before it went live, said his producer gave him an advance about ten minutes before with the instructions to get a response from you.”

Steve's brow furrows as he processes this information. "He tipped us off? Why would he do that?"

Lisa shrugs. "Not everyone at Fox agrees with their editorial stance. Some journalists there are just reasonable conservatives who still believe in fair reporting."

You step closer, joining the conversation. "If he's willing to give us a heads up, he might be an valuable ally."

Steve looks at you, his expression softening slightly. "You're right. I let my anger rush my judgment." He turns back to Lisa. "Can you arrange a private conversation with Ryan once we land? I'd like to thank him personally for the warning."

Lisa nods, making a note on her tablet. "I'll set it up."

You take a seat next to Sophia so you can weigh in if they need you, and Steve crosses back over to talk to Jake. The initial flurry of activity in the campaign cabin has settled into a focused hum, with staff members working diligently at their laptops or speaking in hushed tones on their phones. The plane's engines provide a steady background noise, a constant reminder of your journey towards Tucson and the challenges that awaits, and you try and steel yourself for what’s coming.

[OCTOBER 12 - TUCSON, ARIZONA]

You’ve often felt like days on the campaign trail are equal to three or four days of real life, but by the time you get to the hotel that night, you feel like you’ve lived a full week in this day from hell. The fake photos, the impromptu press conference, the endless strategizing throughout the day in pockets between the campaign events that had already been scheduled, and more interaction with the press corps - and public - as the day unfolded all blend together in an exhausting blur.

Two notable developments changed the trajectory of the day, as well. Once you hit the afternoon and had been asked some of the same judgmental questions - that would never have been asked to a man - you had shot back with your disappointment that once again, double standards were at play. “Beyond fake photos,” you had said, “this is just another display of how women in politics are treated, especially when they dare to challenge the status quo. Shots are fired at women because we’re not given equal footing with men - we’re viewed as expendable targets in a continual hunting season."

That had rattled a lot of cages and been received as a battle cry, as well.

And around dinnertime, Bucky had come back with confirmed evidence that the doctored photos had been given to Fox News by the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today* (CSFAT). He had not discovered yet who gave the photos to CSFAT, but their staff had bypassed checking their validity and wanted to get the word about you out immediately. And though the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today hadn’t worked with their campaign staff at all, CSFAT - as it turned out - were huge contributors to the Republican candidate’s campaign.

Bucky was still working to find out who had created the images and given them to CSFAT.

But Lisa had worked used her superpowers to masterfully reveal Fox News’ source and suggest further commentary and investigation of the matter.

After that final briefing with the press, there had been a meeting to debrief the day and strategize for tomorrow, and then you had quickly and quietly snuck away as quickly as you possibly could and escaped to your room, desperate to get away from everyone and from the nightmare of the day.

But you had only dropped your phone onto the small coffee table in your room when there was a knock on your door.

You shut your eyes your shoulders slump. The last thing you want to do is answer that door.

But after another few moments of your reticence, whoever’s on the other side knocks again, and you know instinctively they’re not going away before they talk to you.

You drag yourself to the door, steeling yourself for another round of strategy or crisis management. But when you open it, you find Steve standing there, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. His face is etched with concern, the worry lines around his eyes more pronounced than usual.

"Hey," he says softly, his blue eyes searching yours. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him enter.

Steve moves into the room, his gaze taking in the untouched bed, your jacket tossed haphazardly over a chair, the room service menu lying unopened on the nightstand. He turns back to you, his expression softening.

"You haven't eaten, have you?"

You shake your head, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. "No, I… I guess I forgot."

Steve's brow furrows with even more concern. "Let me order something for you," he says, reaching for the room service menu.

"Steve, you don't have to—" you start to protest, but he cuts you off gently.

"I want to," he insists. "You need to eat. And... I thought maybe we could talk. If you're up for it."

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. "Okay," you agree softly.

“Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll order us some dinner.”

You nod, grab your bag, and Steve is already picking up the phone as you step into the bathroom.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, comfy in a pair of silk pajamas, you find Steve sitting in the armchair by the couch. He's shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking more relaxed than he has all day. The room service cart is beside him, covered dishes waiting.

"Feel better?" he asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You nod, managing a small smile in return. "A little, yeah. Thanks."

You sink onto the couch, feeling the full weight of exhaustion from the day. Steve stands and moves to the cart. He passes you a set of utensils wrapped in a cloth napkin, a drink, which you set on the end table next to you, and then finally a plate of food that makes you gasp.

“How did you know?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“That it’s your favorite? I pay attention,” he answers simply.

Steve sits beside you with his own plate, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

The two of you eat and talk - though only a little bit, as it’s evident you were both incredibly hungry. But once you’re both done, plates are set aside, and Steve shifts, angling himself to face you better, and you do the same, tucking your legs up to be more comfortable.

"How are you holding up?" he asks softly.

You let out a long sigh. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It feels like we're in the eye of a hurricane, and I have no idea what's coming next."

He nods, understanding in his eyes. "I know. It's been one hell of a day."

Steve reaches for your hand, enveloping it in his much larger one. His touch is warm and comforting.

"You've been beyond incredible," he says, his voice low and earnest. "The way you handled everything today - the press conference, the interviews, the constant barrage of questions - it was nothing short of remarkable."

His thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand as he continues, and you look up into his blue eyes, which are locked on yours. "Your strength, your composure, your eloquence - it's been awe-inspiring. You didn't just weather the storm; you stood up to it and turned it into something powerful."

Steve's words, filled with such genuine admiration and unwavering support, begin to chip away at the walls you've built up throughout the day. The compassion in his eyes, the absolute confidence in his voice - it hits you like the sun, and it’s warm and powerful, but after the day you’ve had, wearing a brave face of poise and power that took more strength than you even thought you had, it’s too much.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop it, a sob escapes your lips. Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision as they spill down your cheeks. Your shoulders shake as you try to hold back the flood, but it's no use. The weight of the day, the constant scrutiny, the vicious attacks - it all comes crashing down on you at once.

"I'm sorry," you choke out between sobs, "I didn't mean to-"

But Steve doesn't let you finish. He pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest. One of his hands moves to stroke your hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. "Shh," he murmurs, "You don't have to apologize. Let it out. I've got you."

And with those words, the floodgates truly open. You cry for what feels like hours, your tears soaking into Steve's shirt. Steve holds you through it all, his strong arms a protective barrier against the world.

As your tears begin to subside, replaced by hiccupping breaths, you realize this has been the hardest day of your life.

When you came back from the Blip to find Jeff had moved on, it had been devastating. But that pain was private, shared only with those closest to you. You could grieve in the safety of your own home, away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers. And you also weren't alone in the world - millions of others were going through the similar losses, a shared trauma that bonded you all together.

But this? This was different. This was a targeted attack, aimed squarely at you, broadcast to the entire world. Your name, your face, your most personal choices - real or fabricated - were splashed across every screen, dissected not only by the media but the millions and millions of people with access to the internet and had decided to commentate as well.

You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say again, your voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

Steve gently cups your face, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears. "You have nothing to apologize for. You're human," he corrects softly. "And you've been through hell today. You're allowed to break down."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "I knew it would be hard, but I didn't expect this. The lies, the scrutiny, the judgment. It feels like the whole world is watching, waiting for mistakes."

Steve nods, his expression somber. "I know. And I'm sorry. I never wanted to put you through this."

You shake your head. "No, Steve. This isn't your fault. We're in this together, remember?"

He smiles softly at you. “And you’ve been so strong through everything - not just today, but every day since I met you.”

You feel a sudden rush of emotions, as if the floodgates have opened. The dam that held back your fears and insecurities has finally broken, and everything comes pouring out at once.

"I've been trying so hard to be strong," you whisper, your voice trembling. "To be the person you need me to be. The person America needs me to be. But sometimes, I feel like I'm barely treading water. Tonight, I feel like I’m drowning."

Steve's brow furrows in concern, but you continue before he can speak.

"You're Captain America, Steve. You're a hero, a legend. And I'm just... me. I worry constantly that I'm not good enough, that I'm going to let you down somehow."

Steve's arms tighten around you, and you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. It's comforting, grounding you in the midst of your emotional storm.

“You could never disappoint me,” he says quietly, but with a fervent power that seeps into you. “You may not see it yet, but I see how people look at you. With such hope, such admiration, because you’re so real to them. I got a super soldier serum that changed my life. You showed up in your life every day and worked hard and built relationships - people see that and they resonate with that. They could do it, because you could - because you are.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, Steve's words sinking in. The sincerity in his voice is palpable, and you find yourself clinging to it like a lifeline.

"I just... I don't want to let anyone down," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Especially not you."

Steve pulls back slightly, his hands moving to cup your face. His blue eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Listen to me," he says, his voice low and firm. "You could never let me down. Ever. You've already exceeded every expectation I could have had."

He pauses, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "When we started this, I thought I was just getting a partner to help me navigate the political landscape. But you've become so much more than that. You're my rock, my compass. You keep me grounded when everything is moving a thousand miles an hour around us.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease, your breathing becoming steadier.

"You're not just keeping up," Steve continues, his voice soft but intense. "You're leading the way in so many aspects. The way you've handled yourself, the causes you've chosen to champion, the connections you've made with people - it's all been incredible to watch."

You take a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed by his praise. "I'm just trying to do what's right," you murmur.

Steve smiles softly. "And that's exactly why you're perfect for this. Your moral compass, your compassion, your determination to make things better - that's what this country needs. That's what I need."

You surge close to him again, but this time wrapping your arms around his neck. He returns your embrace, his strong arms surround you completely, holding you firmly to him.

You stay in Steve's embrace for a long moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. His warmth and strength envelop you, providing a sense of safety and comfort you didn't realize you desperately needed. For the last three years, you’ve done life on your own, and you’re strong and independent and more than capable. But to be held, and in being held have someone hold part of the emotional battle with you… you didn’t know how much you needed that.

When you finally pull back, you meet Steve's gaze. His blue eyes are filled with concern, but also with something else - a warmth and tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," you say softly. "For everything. For being here, for listening, for... for just being you."

Steve's lips curve into a gentle smile. "Always," he replies, his voice low and sincere. "We're in this together, remember?"

You nod, managing a small smile in return. "I do."

A comfortable silence falls between you, and you find yourself studying Steve's face. The worry lines around his eyes have softened, but you can still see the concern etched in his features. It strikes you how much he's been carrying too.

"Steve," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "How are you holding up through all of this?"

He lets out a long breath, leaning into your touch. "I'm alright," he says after a moment. "It's not easy, seeing you go through this. Knowing that my choices, my campaign, have put you in this position."

You shake your head. "We've been over this. It was my choice too."

"I know," he sighs. "But that doesn't make it any easier to watch. And then there's the constant pressure, the scrutiny. I do still wonder if I'm cut out for this. Fighting Thanos almost seems simpler in comparison."

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, and Steve's lips quirk up in response.

"At least with Thanos, the enemy was clear," he continues. "Here, my opponents aren’t my enemies, but they have enemies attached to them - like we saw today.” He runs a hand over his beard, before he continues. "I've been in the public eye for a long time, but this is different. More personal. And I hate that today you're bearing the brunt of it."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "We're in this together, remember?" you echo his words back to him, squeezing his hand gently.

Steve smiles softly, squeezing your hand in return. "We are."

For a moment, you both sit quietly, the weight of the day settling around you but softer and lighter now that it’s shared between you. The room feels like a sanctuary, a quiet bubble away from the chaos of the campaign trail.

"You know," Steve says after a while, his voice thoughtful, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About feeling like you're drowning sometimes."

You look up at him, curious.

"I want you to know that it's okay to feel that way," he continues. "This isn't easy, and I want you to know that I see your strength, even when you don't."

His blue eyes lock onto yours, intense and sincere. "You've faced every challenge head-on and your support has sustained to me than you know on days when I’ve quietly doubted myself, too.”

The sincerity in his voice, the intensity of his gaze - it's almost overwhelming. You've spent so much time focusing on being strong for him, for the campaign, that you hadn't realized how much you needed to hear those words.

"Thank you," you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know."

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I meant every word."

Steve's hand reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingers, and you find yourself leaning into it almost instinctively. And then you yawn.

He laughs softly. “Come on, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed,” he says, and stands, scooping you up in his arms bridal style. You hold on around his neck, resting your head against his shoulder for the short walk into the bedroom area of your small suite.

Steve carries you to the bed, his strong arms cradling you gently. He sets you down carefully on the plush mattress, the soft sheets cool against your skin.

With tender care, Steve pulls the covers up over you, tucking them snugly around your shoulders. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's savoring each moment. Your eyes are drooping closed, but you still notice the way the lamp on the bedside table casts a warm, golden glow across the room, softening the angles of Steve's face as he leans over you.

He brushes the hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light. Then, with infinite gentleness, he presses a soft kiss to your brow. His lips linger for a moment, warm and comforting against your skin. Then he places another soft but quick kiss to your cheek, and murmurs, ��Goodnight,” as he pulls away.

“Mmm, stay?” you mumble in reply, reaching for him.

Steve hesitates for a moment, his fingers curling softly around yours. You can almost see the internal debate playing out behind his eyes. But then his expression softens, and he nods, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Alright," he says softly, "I'll stay."

You hear the soft thud of his shoes hitting the carpet, followed by the rustle of fabric as he removes his dress shirt and slacks, leaving him in only a simple white undershirt and his boxers.

He turns off the lamp next to you, then moves around to the other side of the room. The mattress dips slightly as he slips under the covers behind you. You can feel the warmth of his body immediately radiating through the thin fabric of your silk pajamas.

Steve's arm drapes over your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, a soothing rhythm that begins to lull you towards sleep. The cotton of his undershirt is soft, the scent of him so comforting.

Outside, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren serve as a reminder of the world beyond this room, but here, in this moment, it all feels far away.

Steve's breathing evens out behind you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against your back. His arm is a comforting weight around your waist, his hand splayed protectively over your stomach. You can feel the calluses on his palm, testament to years of fighting and sacrifice, now a source of gentle comfort.

As you drift off to sleep in Steve’s arms, you know everything is far from fixed, but the chaos of the day fades enough, replaced at least for the night by a sense of peace and security you haven't felt in a long, long time.

next part: TUCSON

Thoughts? Feelings?

thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me to work out some of this chapter - you know what you said/did 😎

I had said there were only going to be 12 chapters, but I think we might need to push it to 13, if there are no complaints...

*The "Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today" is a name that I made up - or at least I tried to! I Googled just to make sure I didn't use the name of a group that already exists.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #red white & true #aspen wrote something

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whatswrongwithblue · 8 months ago

Text

Artowrk by inuhalfdemon

Series Masterlist

Summary:

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

“So now that I have you back,” as he spoke, his voice crackled and lowered several octaves, and the room darkened as he allowed his power to slip out just enough to make reality around them go fuzzy. “I’m not letting you go.”

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

TW: canon typical violence, language, character behavior. recreational drug use. body image issues. references to self harm. OC has ptsd from sexual trauma and spousal abuse - not from Alastor! cannibalism. gun violence. slow burn. alastor is an ass and alastor is also soft. the smut will eventually include: p&v, fingering, oral - both receiving. biting, scratching, blood play. occasional shadow tentacle and sex toy usage. Anal play. Nun Alastor makes an appearance later on. Breeding kinks - both Alastor and OC deal with breeding cycles. Touch adverse Alastor. Ace-spectrum Alastor.

Also available on AO3 .

Chapter 1 - The Pilot: Alastor returns to Hell. Basically the events of the Pilot, but rewritten with Mina present.

Part 1

Chapter 2 - Reflections. The short story of Mina's life and death.

Chapter 3 - Overture. Events of Episode 1 as well as what happened during the Extermination the day before.

Part 2

Chapter 4 - Terminally Dispelled. Mina arrives in Hell.

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star. Events of Episode 2. Alastor is a simping show-off but still not good at processing emotions.

Part 3

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine. - Mina's POV from the end of last chapter.

Chapter 7 - Ashes in My Wake. - Alastor handle's being smitten really, really badly.

Chapter 8 - Scrambled Eggs. - Alastor finds out someone has hurt his wife.

Part 4

Chapter 9 - Wretched and Joyful. - "First time" smut

Chapter 10 - Masquerade. - Events of Episode 4. Angst ahead!

Chapter 11 - Stitches. - Angst & post-fight make-up smut

Part 5

Chapter 12 - Drunk on Life. - extra fluff & smut

Chapter 13 - Dad Beat Dad. - Events of Episode 5 w/ smut.

Part 6 - Alastor in rut smut but also lots of dark themes. Please mind the tags of these chapters.

Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven.

Chapter 15 - Tainted.

Chapter 16 - Possessed.

Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun.

Chapter 18 - Welcome (Back) to Heaven.

Part 7

Chapter 19 - A Fate that Befell Him. - proposal & wedding day

Chapter 20 - The Silence in Between. - honeymoon smut

Chapter 21 - Hello Abaddon. - recruitment for the hotel battle

Chapter 22 - House on Fire - smut rather than dealing with feelings.

Everything below is finished, only unpublished because I need to proof read!

Part 8

Chapter 23 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me. - the day alastor left

Chapter 24 - Just Pretend. - have some more angst. as a treat.

Chapter 25 - A Place to Put Your Pain. - surprise! more smut

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On. - the battle

Bonus Chapters

Chapter 1 - The Library - bonus smut

Chapter 2 - Poppin' Molly - Alastor on drugs, enough said

Chapter 3 - There's Children Screaming in the Streets - my dear friend @safination wrote a Sinner's POV of Chapter 23 and it's amazing!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fic #the fire in the sin

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penkura · 6 months ago

Text

last forever [10/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I kind of hate how Zoro dresses in Dressrosa. He doesn't look right. Oh well. This isn't how I thought this chapter would go, but, I hope it works. I'm more excited for the last couple chapters! (don't worry, we are not glossing over Dressrosa in where you belong, it's way too important for that)

Taglist:

@misfits1a | @alucardsdaddyissues | @louweasleymalfoy | @fluffybunnyu

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7] ● [Ch. 8] ● [Ch. 9]

Trafalgar Law doesn’t get you and Zoro, he’s not sure he’s seen two crewmates as close as you two are without there being something romantic going on, whether hidden or not. While your crew was separated, you were lucky enough to miss being body swapped with another of your crewmates, choosing to stay with them and watch over the children they’d tried to rescue while Zoro went with Brook and Sanji (in Nami’s body at the time) to bring back the Samurai missing his torso. You’re sure you didn’t miss too much, and that Sanji or Zoro would fill you in later.

Once the alliance between your crew and the Heart Pirates is set in place, you start trying to speak to Law more, even with your personal issues, you’d like to make friends with him l though he seems like he doesn’t care for the most part. Sanji just tells you to ignore it and not take it personally if Law doesn’t really talk to you, he doesn’t appear to be the talkative type to him. You still try once all of you, including Kin’emon and Momonosuke, are back on Sunny, Law beginning to open up a little bit and talk to you, which makes you smile.

He still notices how you’ll hang onto or around Zoro more than anyone, how he doesn’t push you off, he almost looks like he leans into you, especially when you start to say something to him. You are very odd, both of you. If there’s anything going on, nobody shows that they know anything, so Law leaves it alone. It’s not his problem anyway.

When you hear that this alliance is going to lead you towards Wano, Law thinks he’s the only one who notices the slight flinch that comes from you, giving you a side eye that you try to ignore. You’ve had no problem being around Kin’emon and Momonosuke, but hearing Wano be mentioned is enough to make you act differently, just slightly. Zoro noticed this too, giving you a confused look while you just smile at him, you don’t want to explain anything yet. Not right now anyway, another time.

It's not like you’re going to run into your fiancé or anything.

“So, have you been to Dressrosa?”

Law shakes his head at you, you’d walked over and again struck up a conversation with him, leaning against the railing. Everyone else is doing their own thing, whatever Sanji is making for dinner is making you hungry while you wait.

“Have you? Seems like you know about Wano.”

You flinch a tiny bit again, but shake your head in return.

“No, never been to the New World until now. My parents have been out to Wano before…”

“They never brought you?”

“I…never wanted to go…”

Before Law can try and get more information out of you, information you may not be comfortable sharing, Zoro calls for you to follow him to crow’s nest, and you quickly tell Law you’ll talk to him later as you run off. He still can’t tell what it is with you and Zoro, but there’s something he’s missing, he's sure of it.

Well, whatever it is, if it doesn’t mess up the plan, it’s not Law’s problem right now. There’s more pressing matters to worry about, not your weird relationship with Zoro.

+!+

You end up on the Caesar drop off team once you all arrive in Dressrosa, being with Robin, Usopp, and Law. Zoro at first doesn’t like the idea, he feels like you’re getting too close to Law, even after you constantly telling your husband that you love him. He partly wonders if his only stating that his stating that he knows and thanking you is making you drift away, but even if it is, he can’t force you to stay with him, despite your relationship. It’s still new no matter how long you’ve technically been married, Zoro doesn’t want to hinder you from going where you want, you’d had enough of that living with your parents.

You deserve to do whatever you want, he’s not going to stop you from going with Law, especially since Robin and Usopp will be with you.

Zoro does surprise you before letting you go back to everyone by kissing your forehead and telling you to be safe. It’s still weird to you sometimes how soft he acts, but you don’t hate it at all. It’s a stark difference from how you two started off, how he acted after your impromptu marriage, and a very welcome change.

What’s not so welcome is all that happens while you’re in Dressrosa. The initial plan to drop off Caesar was going well, even with your encounters with giant sea beasts that threatened your safety crossing the bridge, up until you, Usopp, and Robin are basically kidnapped by the Tontatta people, who come to view Usopp like a savior despite your side-eye towards him that he fights to ignore.

When you eventually make it back into Dressrosa everything moves so fast, you aren’t sure what’s happening half the time. You knew where most of your crew still in Dressrosa were, you knew the Sunny had taken off towards Zou with the rest of them, and knew Luffy and Law were in the middle of fighting Doflamingo, while the birdcage the Warlord had set up was beginning to close in on the country, moving buildings and causing the citizens to run for their lives.

You do your best to help direct them, alongside the Marines that were around, not one of them bothering to try and take you in due to the situation. There’s so much going on and so many people screaming in fear that you don’t even stop moving towards the center yourself while you call for people to follow you. You aren’t even sure how it happens but a boy and his little sister end up attached to you, the girl having you carry her since she’d twisted her ankle as her brother holds onto your hand while you keep moving, telling him to keep running too.

You don’t stop until you see the strings are fading away, giving you the relief you need to finally breathe, the kids both gripping onto you like you’re their only hope for safety (not even a Marine could get them to let go of you).

The two are still holding onto you when Zoro finds you a bit later, he’s trying not to make the worry he felt for you the whole time visible. Of course he was focused wholly on his own battle against Pica then attempting to stop the birdcage, but every second he didn’t see you had him concerned underneath it all.

“Hey! There you are!”

You barely have a moment to realize it’s even him before Zoro has you pulled to him in a hug, nearly squishing the little girl you’re still holding, though she doesn’t seem to complain. Her brother is the one to say something, making you pull yourself away from Zoro, who looks confused as to why you’re carrying this toddler with her brother gripping your shirt still.

“I was helping them run from the birdcage, the girl twisted her ankle. I…should go help them find their parents, huh?”

While you laugh at the situation, Zoro doesn’t say anything else, instead just nodding while you crouch down to eye level with the boy, giving him a smile and asking him to help you find their parents. Zoro does go with you, not wanting you out of his sight again to ensure you get back to the rest of the group safely, keeping one of his hands on your back to make sure he doesn’t lose you, moving to your shoulders after you finally find the parents of the kids and hand them off, not without copious amounts of thank you’s from them, especially their mother.

“You almost seem disappointed.”

Looking up at Zoro, you raise an eyebrow as he continues to lead you back to Luffy and everyone else.

“Handing them back to their parents. Almost like you wish they were yours.”

“Oh,” Shaking your head, you smile a bit, “No, I’m glad they’re back with them…I’d like to have one or two someday, but not now, you know? We’ve got bigger things to do.”

Zoro nods and agrees with you, but he doesn’t tell you his own thoughts about that at the moment. Another time perhaps, he’ll let you know that he wants the same thing later on, once everything has been settled with your respective goals.

He’ll become the world’s greatest swordsman and you’ll become a world renowned swordswoman, one day.

Then after that, you can revisit that idea of having kids together.

If you stay together, that is.

+!+

Leaving Dressrosa, finally, you’re excited to get back to the rest of your crew and the Sunny, and, you suppose, head for Wano next. The thought still makes you feel nervous, but what are the chances you run into your parents chosen suitor for you while you’re there?

Very slim, this is the time of year he takes off to one of his current wives’ hometowns, likely showing off his wealth or their newest child, whatever the case you’re glad for Zoro rescuing you from such a life.

Still, it’s the only hang-up with the alliance and your coming arrival there, making you more nervous the closer you get. Robin knows your reason why, you’d told her and Nami recently about the situation, and both promised to keep the man away from you should they see him, or, well, hear of him, since they don’t know what he looks like. Law notices you acting strange, different from how he’s come to perceive you, though he doesn’t say anything, it’s not his place to do so, he thinks. Usopp, Franky, and even Luffy seem none the wiser, not noticing any changes from you.

Zoro however does, and keeps you close to him where he can just in case you need him. A few times while on Bartolomeo’s ship, you leave his side to talk to Robin or Law, maybe Luffy if he’s nearby, but Zoro keeps an eye on you, he can tell something is up but he isn’t sure what.

That doesn’t change when you all arrive and make it to the top of Zou, as you work your way through the remnants of what looked to be a city and then the forest, before you’re finally guided to the rest of your crew by the Minks. The absence of Sanji is obvious and when you hear the explanation as to why he isn’t there, you feel your heart drop at the words ‘arranged marriage’ from Brook. So you two had the same problem, parents trying to decide what’s best for you and how you should live your life, forcing you into loveless marriages. Somehow it makes more sense as to why you and Sanji are so drawn to each other, why your friendship is so strong. He’s gone through his own struggles too.

Your swordsman’s watchful eye stays on you after that, even as a party is thrown that evening to celebrate the Minks safety, Raizou reuniting with Kin’emon and Kanjuro, and possibly your arrival. Zoro doesn’t let you out of his sight, even while you’re across the way with Nami, Robin, and Ikkaku from the Heart Pirates. He watches you quietly talk with them, laughing every now and then as you down drink after drink and he’s wondering what’s gotten into you. You don’t normally drink or eat this much, but it’s almost like something has triggered you to do so.

He knows you’re going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning and you might get sick from everything you’ve eaten, making Zoro sigh when he does get up from his own spot, leaving his drink there, to cut you off.

There’s got to be something you aren’t telling him.

“How much did you drink?”

Your slurred speech and incessant giggles make Zoro roll his eye while he takes you to a room the Minks set aside for you to stay in. You're over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, which you'd normally complain about, but the amount of alcohol in your system is keeping coherent sentences from leaving your mouth.

“Dumbass, you know you can't handle your liquor.”

“Hehehe, sorry…” you giggle again and try to lift your head, but it makes everything spin so you just let yourself hang while Zoro takes you to your room. “Drinks good.”

“I know.”

“Food good.”

“I know that too.”

“Nausea not good…”

“You throw up on me and I'm dropping your ass on the ground.”

Your giggles and hiccups make Zoro smile slightly. You were more than likely coping with Sanji not being there with everyone, seeing as how he'd become your closest friend and confidant, but that didn't mean you needed to try and match Zoro, of all people, in how much you could drink. Hell, you even tried to match Luffy with the amount of food you ate, it was no wonder you felt nauseous, though, Zoro does realize that the way he's carrying you isn't helping. So once he reaches the set of treehouses you'd been granted by the Minks to stay in, he adjusts you to where you've got your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist to keep you from falling, telling you to hold on or you'd fall to your death which made you laugh and tighten your hold on him.

“You'd never let me fall…remember?”

He does, he remembers telling you that after you landed on Skypiea, when you were nervous about joining them on the cloud sea. How drunk you could bring that up, and sound so sentimental about it at the same time, he doesn't understand.

Once Zoro gets you to your room, he drops you on your bed and moves to leave, before you grab hold of him and almost start begging him not to go. It's several minutes of you telling him to stay, and Zoro denying, before he notices your demeanor, how you're about to cry.

He'd forgotten how emotional of a drunk you could be.

“Hey, what's wrong with you?”

“I…I just…I missed you.”

Your statement confuses Zoro immensely. You two had stayed in Dressrosa together, you'd been on Bartolomeo's ship on the way to Zou, how could you have possibly missed him?

Granted, yes, he understands you two had been separated for a good portion of your time in Dressrosa, and then again on your trip to Zou as you were helping Robin and Law with various things while Zoro was minding Luffy mostly, but you two still had time to talk and spend time with each other. Even a few nights sharing a bed because you couldn't stand to be away from him, despite your still not being sure where you two stand as friends or a couple or what you are.

“What do you mean you missed me?”

“I…I don't…” You sniffle a bit before covering your face with your hands, biting your lip and trying not to cry more. Zoro thinks you're so wasted you don't even know what you're saying, but he still tries to get an answer out of you.

“Hey, come on, talk to me. I know you're drunk but I wanna know what you mean.”

“I just…I missed you…while we were all apart. Did I…I ever tell you?”

You hadn't, not until now. Everything had moved so fast after you all came back together in Sabaody, that you'd not really gotten to talk to each other about your two years apart. Zoro figured you missed him, especially with how you attached yourself to him lately, but didn't think it was that bad. Something had seemed slightly off at times, but he never knew what it was.

“I had…nightmares about you…”

His brows furrow and Zoro finally relents to you, letting you pull him into your bed and hug him close, like you thought he was going to disappear. Zoro returns your hold and keeps you close as possible, before he quietly responds to you.

“What happened in the nightmares?”

Surely it couldn't be that bad, it wasn't something that made you afraid of him that was for certain. Even sober, you'd never be so close to him if you were afraid of him.

“You…Thriller Bark and Sabaody…I…I thought you were gonna die…”

Finally, Zoro has an answer as to why, after everything that happened at Thriller Bark, you were in his bed in tears nearly every night before your crew was separated. Why you had attached yourself to him even more than usual. It wasn't nightmares about your parents, about the man they wanted you to marry, no. It was nightmares about him not making it through those events that took place.

He wants to tell you that those are stupid nightmares and that he wasn't dying anytime soon, he wanted to tell you that.

But for some reason, he doesn't. He's not even sure why, the words just won't come out. He knows it would soothe you to hear him say that, even if for that night, but if more nightmares come?

He's not sure simple reassurance is enough.

“Do you…still have those nightmares?”

You shake your head, snuggling yourself closer to Zoro, hoping he'll stay with you.

“No…I'm okay now. Cause I know you'll come back to me.”

Zoro still doesn't say anything, just watching you finally fall asleep. He's not even sure if he believes you, but the fact that you hadn't gone to his bed in tears every night since you all reunited, he views as a good thing, you probably are telling the truth. It is annoying, that he feels responsible for your distress when he didn't really do anything to cause it. The life you live is a dangerous one, you know that and Zoro knows that, better than anyone most likely.

So, that's why, while he quietly, gently kisses your forehead, Zoro brings you closer to him and makes a promise you don't hear and even if you did, you wouldn't remember in the morning.

“I promise, as long as I'm married to you, I'm not gonna die. You're my wife…and I'm gonna keep you safe too.”

+!+

With everyone getting ready to leave the next morning, Nami stops just long enough to give you a raised eyebrow when she comes to get you. You’ve got a blanket around your shoulders and the grumpiest look she’s ever seen from you, but that’s not what has her attention.

It's the fact that Zoro is still in your room, mainly the fact he’s in your bed, and she starts to get ideas that make her give you a sly look. You’re about to slam the door in her face when she throws an arm around your shoulders and brings you close to whisper.

“Give me all the details and I won’t charge you to keep this a secret~”

“Nothing happened, Nami. I was drunk and fell asleep, now please, get me some medicine and water, my head is killing me.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami doesn’t fully believe you, but she shrugs it off.

“Whatever. So,” pulling you closer, your navigator gets even quieter, just in case Zoro or someone else is listening, “Are you going to be okay…? Going to Wano, I mean…”

“Nami—”

“I don’t think Luffy will care if you come with us to get Sanji back, but Zoro might.”

You sigh and nod, your head still aching but you glance over your shoulder to Zoro still asleep in your bed, thinking. She’s right in that Luffy would likely let you go to retrieve Sanji, but Zoro may fight against that if you did so. Not because he thinks you’re weak or anything, but because it’s for Sanji, you and Nami know very well how those men are with each other.

After another moment or two, you finally nod again.

“I’m going to go to Wano. Zoro will be there…I’ll be okay, Nami.”

She’s not sure she believes you, but Nami gives you a hug anyway, that you return without saying anything else.

“I’ll get Chopper to bring you some medicine. See if you can wake your boyfriend or husband, whatever you guys are calling each other. Breakfast is about ready.”

“Sounds good, thanks for everything.”

You wave each other before you’re caught off guard by Zoro wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Feel okay, wife? Not gonna get sick on Traffy’s ship when we leave, right?”

Giggling a little, you shake your head.

“No, I’ll be fine, Zoro, thanks.”

Nodding, Zoro hugs you a little tighter, making you look up at him.

“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you smile a bit, which causes Zoro to do the same in return, “I know.”

Everything will be okay, nothing bad is going to happen, not with Zoro around.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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yaut-jaknowit · 6 months ago

Text

The Fight Of A Lifetime

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5509

Summary: The week is up. In one last try, you throw yourself at her feet and pleads her to not do this. As much as you don't want to watch, you can't not be there. If she were to die, Dwainet will kill you, might as well make it swift. So you go. We'ar-ow looks magnific in her armor and adorned in weapons. The two arrive in grand style. You're decked out, head to toe in everything We'ar-ow has given you. The battle commences.

Author Note: It has finally arrived! This is the second to the last chapter planned for this series. The climax of it all. I hoped the fighting scenes are alright. I hate writing fighting scenes. They need to be quick, fast and I like to describe everything. So, it's the opposite to what I do.

Masterlist

Ao3

Everyday since the challenge had been issued, We’ar-ow acted indifferent. Not a thing changed. She would take you to her throne room where she dealt with the dealings as the Monarch of her clan.

Well, besides the fact you admitted your love to the alien. Outside the safety of her quarters, We’ar-ow was the same Monarch everyone knew her as. Yet, inside those walls, specially when the night cycle fell upon the two of you, she would cuddle with you. Her eight foot and so frame was easily able to dwarf you. She’d scoop you to her torso and curl around you like some sort of brick wall. Imposing and immoveable.

It was impossible to nudge her even slightly to the side to get up when nature called. The lumbering giant female hugged you like a koala. There was little chance to escape unless you’ve threaten to piss in the bed or getting a UTI because you’re holding it for so long.

Besides the cuddling, that’s the only thing you’ve noticed. And that made you begin to think. The way she barely has changed her personality at first had you worried that she didn’t return your feelings. Then, you got to thinking.

If nothing had changed… maybe she has loved you from the beginning.

Then, to find you there, all those months ago, on the verge of crying couldn’t been fate. You don’t believe she had anything to do with Dwainet breaking up with you. It was the opportunity falling into her lap. We’ar-ow, the predator she is, took the chance to snatch you up before some other Yautja could. A lone pet without its master was a call for trouble.

Now, look where you are now. From the depths of food chain where Dwainet survived in as a newly blooded to the mate of the monarch. A clear glow up for yourself.

Including now; decked out in a finest of material Raunch designed for the day. You looked nothing less than a deity while standing in front of the mirror. The thin, see-through material flowing from around your neck and down your back was flowy. It attached at two points to your wrists. The brown easily complimenting the pink that made up the rest of your outfit Raunch threw you in.

His life must have been on the line when he created this because of how fabulous and stunning you looked in it. We’ar-ow wanted you nothing short of the deity she saw you as. You glanced at said Yautja through the mirror while she armored her up.

One creature soft, pliant, silky. The other rough, jig jagged, coarse. Two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly against the other. Both complimenting each other.

You couldn’t help the gentle smile to upturn your lips at the thought before it dropped. The realization of what was about to occur hitting you straight in the gut. This could be the last time you saw each other alive. Despite her plentiful reassurances that the day would go as planned, you are only human. And humans fretted, a lot. Any little thing could go wrong. And boom, she’s dead.

The blood in your veins ran cold. Death wasn’t new to you. Not when you’re surrounded by a species that hunted and prided themselves over the bodies they brought home. Or when they duke it out over a challenge thrown down. But to lose We’ar-ow. You couldn’t fathom the heartbreak it would bring upon you.

Goosebumps clouded your skin. The soft flesh of your bottom lip worried on by dull teeth. We’ar-ow’s strong gaze flickered over at you. Instantly, you straightened and found anywhere else to look at. Then, you attempted to relax and act natural in the face of your mate. Said Yautja began to stalk towards you before halting just shy of your back.

Her form towered even more with the added armor decorating her. She downright looked like a beast ready for the hunt. Your breath got caught in your throat when your eyes raked up her body in the mirror. She was stunning and terrifying all in the same boat.

The heat of her body blanketed you in comfort and helped ease the tension holding your shoulders. We’ar-ow reached around you to cup your throat and tilted your head back. “I have told you, there is nothing to fret about. I will be victorious. Not for me but for you, little one,” she growled and tugged you flush against the muscles that lined her thick thighs.

As much as you wanted to believe a hundred percent, there was that constant nagging inside of your mind. The part that will always make you human. The part that whispered from the depths that she will fail, she will fall, she will die. Then, you will have no choice but to be handed over to Dwainet. Once more in the hands of a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

A part that We’ar-ow can never quell.

“I am only human,” you muttered, eyes drifting down to look at the two of you in the mirror. Her claws lightly bit into the soft flesh of the back of your neck. But, We’ar-ow is careful, mindful of your more fragile form in her presences.

A grumble sounded from the back of her throat. “And I am the monarch of this clan. I have never lost a challenge. I will not lose this one. Not when I have something to lose, someone important,” her voice softened towards the end. Then, the pink Yautja bent at the waist to nuzzle her mandibles into your hair carefully with the decorations adorning your head. In her eyes, you rivaled Paya with your deity status.

Your orbs snapped up to the pink Yautja at your back, expression softening. “We’ar-ow,” you whispered her name then heavily sighed, eyes closing. This is a weight you never expected to bare. Not a weight that was meant for a Yautja more than you yourself.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” she mumbled into your hair then peered over to look you deeply into your eyes. “What will be the tip in the scales?” If you didn’t know any better, you could say she was begging for you to believe in her.

And that hurt you. Guilt burned a hole in your stomach. It was your own demons causing this issue to worsen with each denial that passed your lips and reflected in your eyes.

“Win the fight,” is all you can do to answer her. That will be what will make you believe her. When she brings you the head of the fallen Yautjas who will bring upon a fight that will challenge We’ar-ow in every sense of the word.

Her gaze hardened, mandibles pulled tight towards her mouth. Then, the Yautja leaned down and pressed them against your forehead in a mock kiss. “That I will, little ooman. That I will. All in the name of you. That scum will fall at my feet from my hands. Then, you won’t have to worry no longer.”

That eased the majority of the tension coiling in your muscles. But not all of it. You could still feel its burn in the back of your throat like acid. A feeling that would never go away. Not until the problem had been dealt with at the source. You prayed to their god, Paya, for this day to go the way you wanted. To see We’ar-ow’s beautiful face at the end of the day.

In tandem, side by side, you left the safety of her quarters for the hallways of her ship. Whatever shield that place put over you washed away the moment you stepped into the hallway. Less doors to protect you from the hazards of being on a Yautja mothership. You walked with your shoulders squared and back. A stance of pride that was felt in each step you took.

The doors of the elevator opened to reveal a face you were relieved to see. Xilomere. Him and his goofy, alien smile was a sight for sore eyes. You almost ran up to him to give him a hug. Today is a day you needed all the support possible. Anything to get you through the events planned.

Next to him was someone you’ve only seen once before. One of We’ar-ow’s sister’s who is on her council team. You politely dipped your head at her with a closed lip smile. The last thing you wanted to do was piss off her. We’ar-ow had enough to deal with today. She doesn’t need to put herself into a problem you created. Well, another problem you created.

“Xilomere, I’m so glad to see you,” you spoke, your face spilt with a closed smile. Your eyes shined with your feelings.

The green male set his palm on your shoulder and gave a welcoming shake. “I wouldn’t miss today even if I was legless. Plus, someone needs to keep an eye out just encase Dwainet is gonna play games. Who knows if he’ll break some more rules today.” The helped more to ease your racing heart. He was going to protect you while We’ar-ow fought. Like he said, who knows if Dwainet may send one of his goons after you while We’ar-ow is distracted.

Her sister, a beautiful shade of tans, beiges, and browns, huffed at Xilo. “So will I,” she rumbled and looked down at you. “I will protect you from any harm. I promise both you and my sister this.” Your heart soften even more from her words. The two of them, barely knowing, are willing to put their lives on the line in case of an attack for you. It was probably mainly for We’ar-ow but still.

You dipped your head deeply. “Thank you. I can’t say enough how much I appreciate that. Truly, thank you.” They returned to motion themselves.

We’ar-ow stepped up behind you and held both of your shoulders. “It is time we go. Dunkot is escorting the prisoners as we speak,” the pink Yautja wormed her way into the conversation. Not that you minded. You tilted your head back, throat completely exposed, to look up at her. The monarch of this ship was willing to put her neck out for you. To keep you protected. Not even Dwainet had done that.

Clearly, you’ve found the one.

As if the four of you were marching like soldiers, you stepped in time with one another. We’ar-ow kept the pace slow enough for you to easily keep up. You march side by side with her. Xilomere and her sister watched your backs the entire time.

Instead of the normal pathing to the throne room you were used to, We’ar-ow led the four of you down a different set of hallways and elevators. Down to the kehrites. A section of the ship you barely have been down to. Not unless you were begging for trouble that is.

All four of your entered the kehrites. Your jaw dropped though. These weren’t the mediocre sized classroom kehrites. No, they had knocked down all of the walls somehow and put in a few risers.

Every available space was consumed by the hundreds of bodies squished into the open area. There was even young children and unbloodeds who were stationed at the front for the best possible view.

A section in the middle of everyone was open and set up with a stage. We’ar-ow wanted everyone to see her beat Dwainet into the ground like the way he deserves. The way needs to be put down like the asshole he is. He doesn’t deserve to breath the same air as you. You couldn’t wait for the end but at the same time, you didn’t even want the battle to start. Not with We’ar-ow’s life on the line.

Your head held up high, you followed We’ar-ow over to a designated section carved out for you and your bodyguards. A seat that resembled a throne had been set up. The perfect size for you. It wasn’t fancy like We’ar-ow’s in the throne room but it was more than enough to state your status. She motioned you to climb the three stairs and sit upon it.

The plush seat met your butt allowed you comfort. It gave you an additional height against the larger aliens that filled this room. You didn’t feel small. We’ar-ow looked at you. You looked at her.

Everything else didn’t matter. You reached out despite your brain screaming at you that it was a bad idea. We’ar-ow leaned in and allowed for your hand to cup her cheek. Her warmth raced up your fingertips to settle in your heart. You had found a way to love again and that too was threatened all over again. It burned you had no way to help or fix this problem you created. You could only trust We’ar-ow to overcome the challenge that stood in her way to having you strictly to herself.

Xilomere and We’ar-ow’s sister stood directly on either side of you. His usually goofy expression was replaced by a hardened look that would take years to perfect. A warrior born and raised for the fight. The sister had one as well. Both were armed to the teeth with weapons. Unlike you who was adorn with soft, plush cloth for a gentle figure, they were prepared to take down an army if it came down to that.

The softer texture of We’ar-ow’s face rubbed against your palm. You tugged her closer to you and pushed your forehead against hers. Screw whatever anyone might think about this. You didn’t care. Not when everything was on the line. Your livelihood, your love, the one person you’ve found comfort in.

“Win this. My heart is yours,” you stated firmly, nails biting into the skin behind her jaw before letting go and leaning back into the throne.

We’ar-ow returned to her full height. “Mine has been yours since the beginning.”

Shock filled your system. You opened your mouth to respond but the sound of marching feet interrupted you. We’ar-ow turned her back on you to face the oncoming fleet.

Your thoughts whirled around inside your head, knocking into each and causing chaos in the making. There was no time to reel them in either. The best you could do in the moment was to shove them into a box and close the lid. Because, the moment a familiar form stepped around the corner, you pulled on your stoic façade and stared the beast. The monster who caused all of this. All of this for his moment in the spotlight.

Duknot practically dragged the dishonorable male into the room. He wouldn’t allow for him to attempt to walk and forced him to stumble and flail. Humiliation. Two other males were secured in chains behind Dwainet. Their guards weren’t as demanding.

From their faces and low amount of scars, neither were high ranking. Three low ranks against a monarch. You were feeling a little better at the realization. Her chances of winning had increased.

All three of them were shoved onto the stage. Their chains didn’t allow for them to catch themselves. You bite at the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing outright when they fell on their faces. Dunkot’s expression cracked with a hint of smirk. Then, he hopped onto the stage with two other guards.

Dwainet was hauled up by Duknot’s strength alone and placed back onto his feet. A hardy glare was sent to the guard but it was simply brushed off. In unison, the chains crashed to the ground. The sound echoing throughout the room after everyone had gone quiet. You felt your heart stuttered at the fact the traitor had been freed.

At your sides stood your guards. At your front stood the first and last person who would fight until her dying breath for you. You were safe.

Now, on the platform, Dwainet stood tall and scanned the crowd before his sharp eyes landed on you. Yet, you acted no different. A neutral expression is all he was faced with. He could see you from over We’ar-ow’s shoulders. She corrected this by sidestepping and blocking his vision. All the attention on her now.

His companions climbed to their feet as well and rubbed at their sore risks. From the space, you couldn’t hear what their chittered to one another. The translator unable to pick up from that far.

This was it.

On We’ar-ow’s side, she unclipped her combi-stick and opened it up. With a mighty slam, a loud clang gathered everyone’s attention to her now.

“Thank you all for coming to this special occasion. A lot has occurred over these last few weeks. A lot of information circulating between everyone. I’ve come to quell this unrest once and for all. Dwainet will succumb to the crimes he’s completed,” We’ar-ow started off when she rallied the entire clan’s attention to her.

Her voice echoed throughout the expanded room. “From this moment on, he has been deemed as a bad blood. He’s attacked a defenseless, weaponless creature. My pet under my protection had been injured by him. A crime such like that has brought upon his fate as a bad blood.” You couldn’t help up internally flinching at the reminder. It still felt fresh after all this time. To have someone you once loved so much attempt to murder you.

Horrible laughter rung out from the platform. “Oh, monarch. You can’t even protect the worthless pet in your protection.” Dwainet scanned the surrounding area. “You are weak. You are fragile. I can’t wait to beat you into the bloody pulp since day one. The title as monarch will be mine and you will be dead,” Dwainet boomed and kept his gaze moving.

You could tell he was trying to rile the clan up. In the presence of their monarch, no one even said a sound. The tension and fear palpable in the air.

With her back to you, you could feel the smirk etching its way onto her face. She expanded her arms out at her sides. “No one agrees with you, Dwainet. They see the truth. I true with a mighty fist but I know how much strength to use. I know the limitations. I know what this clan needs.” You hoped that the truth. We’ar-ow was a once in a lifetime leader. One that is needed in every clan across the board. Dwainet, he was the opposite of what We’ar-ow stood for.

A snarl ripped through Dwainet throat, his claws flexing at his side. You smirked and sat up straighter in your throne. You were heavily proud of We’ar-ow.

“Now, are you going to keep bickering or are you going to face your fate? I’ve got plans after this,” We’ar-ow drawled and crossed her arms.

Dwainet glanced behind him where his helpers stood. One was clearly nervous at the upcoming battle. The other was attempting to hold it in. These were just newly bloods like Dwainet himself. They weren’t as skilled as We’ar-ow. What was Dwainet thinking?

His gaze returned to her. “You shouldn’t have. There is nothing for you after this except for meeting Cetanu,” he growled and stomped down a foot on the platform. You could feel the eyeroll coming from We’ar-ow without her even looking at you. One that Dwainet whole heartily deserved.

We’ar-ow glanced over her shoulder one last time before marching straight into battle. The muscles that lined her back rippled with each step. Where her heart resides was protected by her metal armor covered by a pelt she earned herself. Both on her chest and back.

You couldn’t help but peek at the two body guards standing at your sides. Xilomere held onto his Combistick, his gaze directly in front of him and scanned the area thoroughly. We’ar-ow’s sister brandished two dual swords while preforming the same action. Both were on high alert. You were grateful for them and their willingness to do this.

The comfort of We’ar-ow’s presences left you. It was your turn to hold down the fort and wait for her return. You gripped the arms of the throne, white knuckling it before glancing at the sister again.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind. You nervously flickered your gaze around before leaning towards her. “I’ve realized I never caught your name,” you whispered in the quiet space, mindful of how loud your voice could grow.

“T'ah'keiad,” she calmly states yet never looks down at you. That would compromise her job as a body guard. Your eyes widened at the interesting name, lips pressed together. “For your ooman mind to understand, you can call me Kei.” You were thankful she understood her name may be difficult at first to speak. Your head dipped in thanks.

Then, you returned to scene unfolding before your very eyes.

We’ar-ow simply stepped onto the platform and towered over the males that opposed her. “Duknot, relieve their weapons to them,” she rumbled but kept a keen eye on Dwainet. He was the only one she truly had to worry about. She knew his tactics and how sneak he really could be. The others, she may not know how they fight but they couldn’t be worse than Dwainet. He was a disdain on her clanship.

The skin of your bottom lip was worried away by dull teeth. You couldn’t help it. Not with her standing directly in front of Dwainet and allowing for them to have their weapons. They were already adorn in meek armor. Armor that is what many new bloods only have. They don’t have enough ‘street cred’ to get anything better from any of the merchants.

Not once did We’ar-ow turn her back to Dwainet or his two helpers. Instead, she backed up to the edge of the platform and waited.

Dunkot stood in the middle like a referee. Two of the guards produced said weapons and handed them over. They returned to the flat ground and stood off to the side. Dunkot stayed in the center.

“As requested by our Monarch We’ar-ow, this challenge will be a battle to the death. Whoever is last to stand will be proclaimed at the new monarch per our rules. May your hands be true!” His voice boomed out over the area. Roars echoed from the crowd afterwards, deafening. You clapped your hands over your ears to protect them from terrible sound. It barely saved your ear drums from exploding.

Then, he left the platform. A strange shimmer rolled down from the ceiling and surrounded the platform. It was a shield to protect the crowd. Smart.

Before you had a chance to contemplate all of this, a loud bell sounded. Instantly, you knew what that meant.

In your throne, you had a front row seat to watch the fight unfold your very worried eyes. Despite your brain desperately wanting for you turn away and cower like the prey everyone thought you as, you held unsteadily strong. You watched with baited breath when We’ar-ow lifted up a crossbow and shot off a bolt directly at Dwainet.

The young male is able to narrowly dodge the flying bolt by rolling to the side. But, his partners in crime aren’t as lucky. It strikes one directly in the shoulder and pushes him back against the invisible shield. He chokes on a grunt and grabs at the bolt. The wood was snapped off to leave just the head inside but the damage had been dealt.

Dwainet goes for offense. He’s swift to get into We’ar-ow’s personal space. Flurries of kicks and punches were all deflected in matter of seconds. His hits hard, mean, likely to leave a bruise later on.

One of the other Yautjas tries to attack from the back. We’ar-ow ducks a hit from Dwainet and sticks out a leg to trip the darker red Yautja behind her. They fumble then fall back.

Finally, the last Yautja, a lighter red comes in by launching himself into the air. He believed We’ar-ow was distracted. She grasped Dwainet’s throat then aimed her crossbow once more at the already injured male. A bolt flies. It strikes him square in the chest. He fumbles and smashes in the space in front of We’ar-ow. The pink Yautja slams Dwainet down and picks up a foot.

The light Yautja’s head is crushed below her heel like the insect he was. Green blood stains the ground and coats the shield. You gasped and overed your mouth.

A throwing knife sticks out of We’ar-ow’s side. She acts no different. Her hand squeezing the life out of Dwainet. More pierce her hide to the point she picked up Dwainet again and threw him into the red Yautja.

They collided harshly with each other before slamming into the shield and flopping to the ground a pile. We’ar-ow moves with purpose over to the two scrambling forms. The crossbow back on her hip. She swipes Dwainet off of the ground again by his throat and holds him up. Her foot presses into the vulnerable area of the downed Yautja. The rings protecting his skin barely able to hold against her weight.

Her only foot on the ground is swiped from underneath her. Dwainet is allowed to be let loose. She is able to roll onto her stomach as claws swiped for her torso. Your eyes widened at the sight of her blood staining the floor this time. You sat more forward in your chair and played with your hands.

Red gets on top of her and grabs harshly at her neatly braided tresses. He pulls. We’ar-ow yanks her head forward. You gasped. Loose dreads hang in his hands, bleeding at the roots. You knew that had to hurt a lot.

We’ar-ow rams her elbow into Red’s side and knocks the wind out of him. A foot flies towards her face. She narrowly dodges a bad blow and latches her fangs into flesh. Dwainet roars and yanks his ankle from her mouth. Blood dripping down from the new wound.

Rage is a wildfire in his eyes. You had to stop yourself from curling into yourself at the sight. He snatches an axe from his belt and swung high above his head. No! You covered your mouth with both of your hands, unable to do anything to stop it.

In a terrifying slowness, it came down. Here you were, stuck in your chair, with a shield blocking you from the love of your life. You were forced to watch as Dwainet brought down the axe.

Her name left you lips in a cry.

The sickening sound of the axe sinking in will forever haunt your mind. You flinched away from the sight and covered your ears, unable to watch the final blow.

Dwainet roars. Pained. Confusion flooded your system. You picked up your head and looked back at the platform. Red was off of her back. Both of the male had been lifted up by their necks, forced to claw at her hands. The axe was imbedded into the metal floor besides were We’ar-ow’s head once was.

The pink female shoved both of the males against the shield directly in front of you. Her eyes pinned to your shaking form. You uncurled from your cowering position and looked up at her through blurry eyes. The sight of her alive form had your body sagging. She was okay. She was alive.

We’ar-ow dropped red then swiftly kicked one of his knees. A sickening crack echoing over the roars and cheers of the riled up clan. He dropped down where she knocked him down onto his back. In a similar fashion, she stomped down on his head, caving in his face. He too was dead.

You didn’t even flinch this time. Your eyes watched every move.

In her hand, Dwainet struggled and wriggled like a worm. His claws dug into her arms, anything to grant him release. He couldn’t get out of Dwainet fatal hold.

His feet dangled above the platform. We’ar-ow was able to hold him up without the aid of both arms or the shield. She snatched both of his wrists though and leaned forward. Your head tilted, brows furrowing on why she was making herself vulnerable for attack. Her mandibles twitched with words that your translator couldn’t pick up. You couldn’t only imagine what she was promising.

Then, he went soaring through the air and smashed into the ground and rolled before coming to a stop. He groaned while on his back. We’ar-ow unsheathed a machete from her waist band and brandished. The sharpened edge glinted from the overhead lights.

At her approach, Dwainet scrambled to his feet a moment to late. We’ar-ow swung and struck his forearm, just below his elbow. The blade sliced clean through muscle and bone alike. The injured Yautja choked on a cry and stumbled back and clutched at his profusely bleeding arm. You jerked your head back, eyes expanded at the terrifying sight before you.

His amputated arm flopped to the floor in a bloody, neon green heap. This when it finally hit you that this is where Dwainet was going to die. This was truly happening. Dwainet was about to be murdered right in front of you by your… mate. You just stayed sat and watched everything.

A snarl ripped from Dwainet’s throat. He glared daggers at We’ar-ow with a passion of hatred. With his only hand reminding, he brandished at knife and raised it above his head. The blade came down. We’ar-ow meets the offending hand with her own weapon. The cut was clean through his wrist as well. Another cry croaked from his hoarse throat. He collapsed to his knees as blood spurted from his amputated hands.

He didn’t raise his head to look death in the eye. We’ar-ow used the tip of her machete to tip his head up. Something primal and deep rumbled from her chest. Dwainet’s entire body froze as if he saw Cetanu himself. She stepped behind his deer in headlights position and faced you.

Despite the distance, you met her gaze. The machete was clipped to her belt again. We’ar-ow grasped his tresses with one hand. The male grunts and folds his mandibles in tightly to his face. His expression neutral. He knew what was to come.

We’ar-ow’s muscles flexed. A sharp crack pierced through the air. Life still shone in Dwainet’s grey eyes. Then, a roar sounded from your mate. Flesh and muscles alike ripped in a grotesque sound. You had to stop yourself from throwing up your lunch, but neither could you look away.

Green, neon blood dripped down to pool on the platform. Cheers of triumph echoed throughout the modified stadium. You could feel the ground rumbling underneath you, but all was quiet. The dead eyes of your ex-mate staring directly into your soul. The finale had come to a close. We’ar-ow stands as the winner once and for all.

Sound floods back into your ears, deafening to the point they rung. The shimmer of the shield faded away and allowed We’ar-ow freedom. The pink Yautja was the only one to move. Her thick legs dropped down from the platform and marched straight towards you. As much as you wanted to leap out of your chair and ensnared her in a hug, the blood of her enemies painting her skin reframed you.

Her yellow eyes met yours for an infinity. One of her knees dropped to the floor causing a silence to steal the noise of everyone. All was quiet. You gasped, instantly knowing a monarch kneeling was trouble.

In her bloodied hands, she presented you the head of Dwainet. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Your name was boomed across the room. “Do you accept this trophy as a gift of courtship?” We’ar-ow asked and watched every little sign from your expressions. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Gasps from the crowd could be heard. Chitters and clicks as the translator only focused on the Yautja in front of you.

She was asking for you to be her mate… in front of the clan. She was laying claim over you more than the mark etched into your skin.

A few seconds ticked by. You nodded rapidly and rushed forwards. The head was dodged. Your arms wrapped tightly around We’ar-ow’s neck in hold she wouldn’t dare try to get you off. The blood of four was rubbed into your skin, including the life essence dripping from her missing tresses. We’ar-ow was swift to return the gesture, understanding this meant ‘yes’ in human.

Bellows escaped from the crowd but it was a sound you could care less about. Today was the day that marked the new chapter in your life. A newfound freedom from the chains Dwainet had weighed down on you. You had power not even the highest Yautja aboard this ship besides the monarch has. From the bottom of the barrel to sitting on a throne, you’ve grown.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #We'ar-ow #The Monarch

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nanabansama · 8 months ago

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Tsukasa Is Tsukasa

Recently I discovered a poll asking if people thought the Supernatural Tsukasa and the Red House Tsukasa were different, and the results surprised me! A majority of voters thought they were not the same. Not only that, but I've seen many people in the fandom start believing they are separate people, if they hadn't already believed it before.

I think this stance can very easily be explained by the scene in Chapter 111 where Amane comes to the conclusion that the Tsukasa who went missing isn't the same as the one who came back:

While people might be divided on the details, the conclusion is basically the same: whatever that is inside of him, it's not Amane's brother.

And I can see why they think this! In fact, it used to be a popular theory back during the release of chapters 78-82 when we didn't know the specifics of what happened. Heck, we still don't know many of the specifics...and many people continued believing the Tsukasas were different anyway!

There's decent evidence to support this, too. When Tsukasa returned, he had sharp teeth and supernatural powers. He knew that Kunishige's wish was that the head priest would die. He's demonstrably different from the innocent little Tsukasa that sacrificed his life for Amane.

If that wasn't enough, even his own mom came to the conclusion that Tsukasa wasn't her son! This is basically the same conclusion Amane comes to in Chapter 111. That's 2/3 of Tsukasa's family members thinking some evil entity is larping around in his skin--not a good look!

In any case, while I could try and convince you guys there are two Tsukasas and the Tsukasas are different, that's not what I'm here to do. If you read my blog you already know I'm 100% on the side that Tsukasa is Tsukasa and always has been, and nothing AidaIro has shown me so far has been convincing enough to change my mind. In this post, I am here to argue that the Red House Tsukasa is the same as the Supernatural Tsukasa and that he merely works in tandem with the ancient god living inside him.

1. Chapter 82

This is the chapter when a lot of people dropped the theory that there are two Tsukasas, including me. (Yes, I used to believe there were two Tsukasas--people change!)

Kou and Nene had determined that the Red House Tsukasa was the real Tsukasa and that the one Amane killed was a fake. They come to this conclusion because this Tsukasa was trapped in the Red House for 50 years and acts a lot nicer and sweeter than the one we know.

The issue is, Kou tells this Tsukasa that Amane is going to kill Tsukasa and die at the age of 13...and unbeknownst to Kou, the seemingly innocent little Red House Tsukasa is EXCITED at the idea! Tsukasa, thankful to Kou and Nene, helps them escape the house but stays behind. This scene is when a lot of cool stuff happens.

First, we learn that Tsukasa wasn't actually trapped in the Red House and he always knew how to get back home, but that he never left because he was worried about what would happen to Amane. However, once Kou told him that Amane wasn't happy after Tsukasa left and that Amane kills not just Tsukasa but also himself, Tsukasa realizes he doesn't know that much about Amane and wants to learn more. The most shocking part of this scene to me was that Tsukasa's excitement at dying was very similar to the lighthearted way the Supernatural Tsukasa brings up his death with Amane.

Second, we see Tsukasa not only has the entity he sacrificed himself to to save Amane stored in his chest, but that he holds a conversation with it.

The entity being shown in his chest is actually a popular argument for the "Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa" theory, but I feel this scene proves otherwise. Tsukasa is not the unwilling host of this entity, as one might expect, but instead almost treats it as a friend. They have a sort of symbiotic relationship going on, and Tsukasa makes the decision to go back wholly of his own, despite them both knowing how to get back the entire time. He even says "let's go back TOGETHER," which supports the idea that they work together and that it isn't simply piloting a Tsukasa meat puppet.

We can argue Tsukasa is the victim to the entity's machinations, that the entity needed Tsukasa to do it willingly or that the entity took full control of Tsukasa after he succumbed to the flames or what not and tricked him, but so far AidaIro has only shown cooperation between these two characters. It's not unreasonable to suggest that Tsukasa gaining supernatural powers after he comes back isn't a sign that he's a different being entirely but that he's just working with one.

2. Mother Doesn't Always Know Best

This one will be a quick section, but considering Mother Yugi is basically the origin of "Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa" I wanted to cover why I think she's wrong.

In Chapter 79 Kunishige recounts how Mother Yugi took Tsukasa to their shrine because she thought her son was possessed by a demon after being spirited away. Kunishige thinks she's crazy at first, and so do the priests, who find nothing wrong with Tsukasa. Put a pin in that btw.

However, Kunishige later learns she was onto something because Tsukasa is not only an incredibly unsettling child but he correctly predicts the death of the head priest of the shrine and tells Kunishige his wish, for the head priest to disappear, would be granted tomorrow. This proves Tsukasa has otherworldly power, since he knows Kunishige's wish without Kunishige telling him, and also might have the ability to grant wishes, something the entity in his chest is shown to be capable of.

Now, I personally think the fact that the priests found nothing wrong with Tsukasa is HUGELY in favor of my theory. I understand how you can argue that the entity somehow avoided detection because it's powerful, or because there was nothing left of the original Tsukasa or something, but I still think the fact the priests detected nothing wrong is extremely weird. What if that's because Tsukasa is still in control?

I think the fact Mother Yugi was convinced Tsukasa isn't her son and wasn't persuaded otherwise is important, too. In fact, I think it might directly correlate with the conclusion Amane makes in Chapter 111. I think Amane is more or less coming to the same conclusion his mother made, something he hadn't wanted to believe at first but eventually, finally, succumbed to. I have to imagine his mother's insistence that Tsukasa wasn't Tsukasa left a big impression on Amane, and it's something that's bothered him for years.

I can't exactly blame them both, either. By the time Tsukasa came back, he'd lost a lot of his innocence. Keep in mind that they think Tsukasa was gone for six months. Any normal 4-year-old kid might have been traumatized by leaving his family for six months, but Tsukasa just acts creepy and possessed. And despite him meeting Nene and Kou 50 years in the future, it's possible it really was only six months for Tsukasa! Time worked differently there. Still, it's not hard to see how the extreme circumstances he was in might have changed him. Not only was he stuck in a haunted death house, he later learns the wish he granted for Amane wasn't Amane's true wish and that Amane kills Tsukasa. This is all pretty life-changing information, and when you tack on the fact that he's buddy-buddy with an ancient man-eating god, it's really not that surprising Tsukasa has changed so dramatically, especially when he's still at the tender age of 4.

3. Behavior

For something that's supposedly replaced Tsukasa entirely, it certainly gets very personal with Amane, doesn't it?

I said before that Red House Tsukasa in Chapter 82 acts similar to Supernatural Tsukasa. How they find delight in death. But I don't think this is the only point of similarity between them, either. In Chapter 81, Red House Tsukasa is under the impression that Amane hates him.

In Chapter 111, after Amane tells Tsukasa he hates him, Tsukasa tells him he already knew that.

Mind you, this line comes seconds before Amane comes to the conclusion that Tsukasa isn't Tsukasa.

Think about it. Tsukasa tells Amane that he knows Amane hates him, echoing a sentiment that the Red House Tsukasa shares. And Amane, after hearing this, comes to the conclusion that this Tsukasa is an impostor.

Isn't that... really sad?! I mean, I'm not going to say that Amane's whole reasoning for Tsukasa being a fake is that he thinks Amane hates him, but...before this scene, Amane was saying he couldn't destroy his yorishiro because he cared about Tsukasa too much. And for Tsukasa to say something he's thought ever since Amane pushed him as a little kid, and for THAT to make Amane say he thinks Tsukasa is fake... it really shows they've never understood each other at all.

Tsukasa's never been shown to get extremely upset about being hated by Amane, either, so you can't say Amane is right just because Tsukasa is laughing in Chapter 111. Tsukasa initially seems shocked when he was pushed, and overall seems a little sad about it in Chapter 81, but he still remarks that Amane hates him with a smile. He's selfless about it. And later, when he learns Amane kills him, this feeling gets more complex. Despite Kou's attempts to convince him otherwise, I think Kou's reveal only made Tsukasa more convinced that Amane hates him, and this is shown in Chapter 111 when he laughs about it. It's just a funny joke to him at this point.

I...genuinely cannot reconcile this behavior with Tsukasa being a fake. I just can't! Why would the entity be this personal with Amane? Why would it share opinions that the supposedly "real" Tsukasa had? If AidaIro really is trying to write a story about a little boy being replaced by a supernatural entity, then they could at least do a better job of making them act different. TBHK makes it clear that supernaturals can experience human emotions just as strongly as actual humans, so it wouldn't surprise me if the god has its own personality and feelings, but for them to just...be the exact same as the human it replaced? I'm not buying it.

There is no difference between the Red House Tsukasa and the Supernatural Tsukasa that can't be explained away by the fact that people change as they grow older. Everything about Tsukasa's character arc as I've presented it is completely logical.

Conclusion

With so little info on the ancient man-eating god, it's kind of impossible to reach a proper conclusion at this point. All we really know about its personality is that it hungers for flesh and will grant any wish in exchange for it. With this in mind, it's incredibly easy to see why people think the god and Supernatural Tsukasa are one and the same, especially when the cast tends to treat them as such. I could just as easily write a post in favor of them being different as I could of them being the same.

And I think this is what AidaIro ultimately wants! I think AidaIro wants us to second guess ourselves. If I know anything about Aidairo, it's that they like to keep up on our toes and shock us with surprising twists. Who really knows what they have hiding up their sleeves?

Still, I feel the theory that the god replaced Tsukasa raises more questions than answers, and I hope I managed to explain my side of things.

#jshk #tbhk #tsukasa yugi #pit god #yugi twins #my theories

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yuyusuyu · 2 months ago

Text

bloody hell — the emos

synopsis. oh, if only, if only she hadn't crossed paths with him. then maybe, just maybe, all of this could've been avoided... except, it was bound to happen by fate. there was no escaping the fate that was given to you at birth.

pairing. ot8! vampire! ateez x fem! reader (not poly! everyone will have their own ending!)

genres/aus. vampire au, suspense, romance, angst, slow burn

warnings. mentions of being watched, cursing, a kms joke oops. if there's anything i should add, please lmk !

rating. pg-13

wc. 3.2k lol...

a/n. this was nawt proofread... super duperrr sorry for uploading late !! was very busy and am very busy right now but things should calm down during december !! this is also a long chapter bc i deadass forgot to include the first part last chapter LOLLLL

send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

TODAY IS CLOUDY AND SOMEWHAT CHILLY, though you don't mind it. you see people who are bundled up with scarves hanging around their necks, some of them even wearing mittens to protect their skin from the biting chill in the air. september has its own few days of cold before october settles in, today being one of them.

you rip your eyes from passing students down to the bag in your hand, the plastic wrinkling as you shift on your feet to lean against the familiar black car beside you. jongho’s borrowed clothes lay folded neatly inside, smelling of the expensive kind of detergent you bought to wash it. you sigh and close your eyes, your head hurting just thinking about how much the detergent cost. jongho doesn’t care about these things, you know that, yet you can’t help but care when it comes to him.

it’s no question that he’s well off, maybe even rich but you can’t gauge just how much he is. you’ve been aware of such things ever since you first met him three years ago, how your classmates from then used to whisper about the things he wore, his belongings, everything. and so you’re so painfully aware of it all now, the expensive things he owns, how you’re extra careful around him at times.

though he may not be like her, flaunting around the wealth he has and making snide remarks about how you should be careful or how poor you are, you don’t want to risk it.

she’s made you have these bad habits, the ones where you care too much over things like this that shouldn’t matter.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting long.”

jongho wears a beanie, hiding the purple streaks in his hair from your eyes. he rounds the car and opens one of the back doors, dumping his practice bag and his backpack in the backseat. you hop inside his car quietly and buckle your seatbelt just as he sits in the driver’s seat.

“you didn’t take long,” you say, glancing at him.

he hums and sits quietly, shoulders slumping just the slightest bit.

“are you… okay?”

jongho tilts his head to look at you, a tired smile on his lips. “yeah,” he breathes out, “it’s just been,” he pauses, “a long day.”

by the way he sits up to start the car, by how his shoulders relax and tense all at the same time, you decide to not ask him about it and keep quiet, watching as jongho drives away from the campus.

“do you want me to pick him up?”

you turn away from the window and blink at the male. “what?”

jongho’s lips quirk upwards, clearly amused. “we’re here already. you know,” he points at the middle school building on the other side of the street from where he’s parked the car, “kou’s school.” he leans over the control board, and presses his index finger to your forehead, pushing your head back. “what’s got you distracted, hm?”

you open your mouth to reply, finding that it’s dry but you’re interrupted by the swinging door from behind jongho’s seat. jongho leans away from you as your brother gets inside the car, sporting a bright and infectious smile.

“sis!” kou drops his backpack by his feet after closing the door, hurling himself at you and attempting to hug you. you laugh when he pulls away, rubbing his head after hitting it against the roof of the car.

“woah there, little guy,” jongho says, his dark eyes gleaming with mirth, “careful.”

kou apologizes, smiling sheepishly at him. “hyung,” he says, settling in the backseat, “are you staying tonight?”

“sure am, champ.” the older male watches kou through the rearview mirror, only putting the car in drive once he’s buckled up.

the eleven year old gushes about his day: what he learned in math and science, how literature class was boring, how he and his friends played a lot during their break. you don’t register jongho’s taken you to the mall until kou starts pouting and wishes you wouldn’t have to work today so you can spend time with him and his hyung. you have to promise to dedicate saturday to only him and jongho, and that’s when kou beams and lets you leave.

“no way you just got here.”

“oh shut up, mingi.” you roll your eyes at the male that twists around to walk right in front of you. “you’re going to trip if you keep walking backwards like that.”

mingi shrugs. “i’ll be fine,” he says, “but how come you’re just arriving?” he raises an eyebrow at you. “you’re an early bird.”

“nosey much?” you mumble, walking past him in a hurry, “hurry the fuck up, mingi. we have less than ten minutes to get to the store.”

the tall male loudly laughs, clearly entertained by your behavior, and follows closely behind you, pestering you with questions.

mingi leans down, wearing a look of disgust as he glances between you and the incoming flock of people. “the emos just keep coming and coming,” he whispers, standing up straight and walking out towards the cashier to tend to the person waiting to buy their items. mingi grins at them, leaving you alone to roll your eyes as you focus back on the task at hand: unboxing and sorting the new merchandise onto the shelves.

which should be mingi’s job right now.

true to mingi’s words, the emos do keep filing into the store to keep buying the edgy jewelry in stock, just like every tuesday evening and the ones before that. you huff through your nose, wiggling your fingers and stretching your arms just as mingi walks into the back, your closing shift manager praising him for getting through the emo rush in one piece while they go to flip the open sign to the closed side.

“kill me now,” mingi groans, dramatically flopping onto the makeshift chair you two had made earlier before the emo rush started (something mingi prides himself for coming up with) and falls through it because you had emptied it long ago. “the emos need to find a new store for their stupid shit!” his hands fly up and attempt to tug at his long, black hair, trying to play it cool as he quickly stands up and dusts his baggy jeans.

you snort and bite your tongue to hold back a laugh when your coworker glares at you. leaning down to grab the last couple of shirts in a box before walking back into the store, mingi follows after you with an unopened box in his hand. “you also like that stupid shit they wear… you know, the jewelry. so doesn’t that make you an emo, too?”

mingi gasps, slapping your arm as you two stand next to each other. you chortle as he tears the box open with a cutter, grumbling about how foul it was of you to say that about him. “you’re evil,” he says, lazily throwing shirts and shirts onto the shelves. “how could you call me an emo? do you know how derogatory that term is to me? and this jewelry is mine, so the emos can go suck a nut and find a different store!”

laughing, you place the last shirt in your hand onto the shelf, giving mingi’s back a singular pat. “right, sorry,” you cough. “you’re definitely… not an emo… my bad.”

puffing his chest out, the pink haired male points at the box at his feet, crossing his arms afterwards. “apology accepted… only if you help me with the last box.”

“oh no,” you take a step back, arms raised in the air as you shake your head. “i’m not helping you. you basically left me alone to go through twenty damn boxes while you handled the emos. that’s my job. you’re not very slick when it comes to trying to get out of the things you have to do, mingi.”

mingi scoffs and narrows his eyes. “actually, you were supposed to do that today and i was supposed to be out at the cashier.” when you deadpan and point at something behind him, mingi raises his eyebrow before turning around. he gulps and looks back at you, smiling sheepishly.

you, as always, are right: you were going to be at the cashier and mingi was going to unload the boxes.

“well…”

“well…” you repeat his words, smiling in amusement as mingi scratches the back of his neck.

“well… the manager actually said that they forgot to change the board for today!”

“mingi, i literally saw the manager change the board today when you clocked in late.” you grimace at him, “by the way, how the hell did that even happen? we got here at the same time.”

the male gapes at you. “what? no, he didn’t! don’t lie to me, yn! and… actually, i have no excuse for clocking in late.”

you shrug, walking into the employee room. “i’ll ask the manager and send proof later!”

“what? yn, wait! don’t—”

you grin, twirling around and taking a step back at how mingi is quite literally right behind. you’re surprised at how quick he was able to get to you. clearing your throat, you turn back and head towards the locker you put your things in. “i’m just messing with you, mingi.”

“oh thank goodness,” he says, sighing and heading over to where he put his things.

the first thing you grab upon opening your locker is your phone, turn it on and read the messages jongho sent you.

jjongs: hey, i won’t be able to pick you up tonight

jjongs: i just finished helping him with his homework and he wants me to read him a story

jjongs: i won’t be able to get there in time when you get out

you sigh.

you: don’t worry about it, jjongs

jjongs: i’m so sorry

you: i said it’s ok

jjongs: text me when you’re on your way so i can come out and get you

you: seeing me outside my own apartment building is sooo romantic and chivalrous of you

jjongs: can’t have a fair lady like yourself be out in the dark for long

you: LOL?

jjongs: oooo you want me so bad

you: in your dreams wtf

you: i’m leaving the store right now so i’ll text you once i’m out

jjongs: ok

you and mingi shut your lockers at the same time, a loud thud resonating in the room. then, the two of you walk out, making sure to say goodbye to the closing shift manager before heading out of the store, walking down the almost empty halls of the mall. once outside, you quickly bid mingi goodbye and take a step forward when mingi speaks.

“it’s really late,” he says, looking down at his phone with furrowed eyebrows. he puts it back into the pocket of his jacket, stuffing his hands into them and looks up at you. “i’ll walk you home.”

you sigh and smile, shaking your head. “i live far away, and i have to take two buses to get back. i wouldn’t want to bother you anyways.”

mingi looks at you through squinted eyes. “it’s late and it’s dangerous for women to be out at this time. i don’t want to be lonely without having my favorite coworker around to bug all because you decided to walk alone at night,” he huffs.

“damn,” you say, eyes slightly wide as you raise your arms up in mock surrender. “okay, fine. you win. you can come along, but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

“puh-lease,” mingi snorts, joining you as you walk towards the bus stop. “how far could you possibly live from this place?

“holy shit, you really weren’t lying when you said that you lived far away.” mingi gasps as you two exit the last bus you had to take to get to your apartment.

you glance at mingi from the corner of your eye. “there’s still some walking to do if you’re still so adamant on seeing me off. honestly,” you sigh, stopping. “you really didn’t have to come all the way here, mingi. i’ve been doing this for a while, so i’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“i don’t care,” mingi says, crossing his arms over his chest. “i’m being a good friend right now.”

“a good friend?” you tilt your head, surprised. “since when did we become good friends?”

“since we started working together,” he replies, his tone so serious that it takes you aback.

you didn’t know he considered you as such.

“how are we supposed to be good friends when we barely know each other and only work together a couple days every week ?” you grumble, clutching onto your bag as you resume your trek to your apartment. it’s already late, and you feel bad for not being there to tuck your brother away to sleep

“we can start getting to know each other right now,” mingi says, catching up to you quickly. he bumps shoulders with you, grinning. “i’ll start. i really like girls.”

“no shit,” you laugh.

mingi looks at you in surprise.

you’ve never really… laughed like this before. you usually laugh quietly but never this loudly to the point that your eyes are closed and your head is thrown back in amusement, your hands covering your mouth in… embarrassment, maybe? or is it out of habit? he’d like to know.

“you’re always flirting with the female customers.” your laughter subsides into giggles, and you playfully elbow his side.

mingi scoffs. “i do not!”

you stare at him.

“...well, maybe you’re right—”

“nope,” you cut him off. “i am right.”

“well, what about you?” mingi quickly says. “what do you like?”

you hum in thought. “well, i like school.”

“really?” he laughs. “you like school?”

you shrug as you both pass the pharmacy, and you make a mental note that you have to pick up kou’s medicine tomorrow morning. “yeah,” you reply. “i like school. gives me something to do and look forward to…”

mingi frowns at the tone in your voice. something to do and look forward to, she says…

it’s then that you stop. mingi blinks a couple times and looks up, coming face to face with a run-down apartment complex. he looks between you and the building, surprised.

she… lives here?

“well,” you look at him, smiling. “thank you for walking me all the way here, mingi. you really didn’t have to, but i appreciate it nonetheless.”

“oh,” he says, “it’s no big deal… listen, is it alright if i head in with you?”

you cock an eyebrow at this. “why?”

“just to make sure no weirdo tries following you back to your place.”

again, you laugh. “no one’s going to follow me, mingi.”

“but—”

you walk towards the entrance and push the doors open, saying, “goodnight, mingi,” before the doors close and you disappear up the stairs, leaving mingi staring after you.

“ah shit,” you groan, pinching your nose. you forgot to text jongho. well, you shrug, it’s not like i’ll get in trouble. jjongs is just a friend.

the walk to your faded apartment door with the very ugly numbers of ‘117’ plastered on right beneath the peephole stare right back at you. as you rummage through your bag to find your keys, the door suddenly swings open and a boy that reaches your shoulders grins widely at you.

“sis!”

“kou,” you say, baffled. “why are you still awake?” jongho leans over the kitchen counter from behind kou. “what’s he doing up, jjongs?”

kou pouts, opening the door wider as you slip inside, kicking your shoes off and turning around, waiting for your brother’s answer. the boy looks up at you. “i wanted us to read together before i went to sleep… i’m sorry—”

“mhm,” jongho hums out in agreement, turning his back towards you two. “what he said. kou is quite the convincer, you know?” the sound of water running fills the air, and you can only assume that he’s washing dishes.

you sigh, leaning down slightly to ruffle his hair. kou perks up, smiling as he tries leaning into your touch. “there’s nothing to be sorry about, kou.” you stand up, holding out your hand. kou grabs it, and you lead him over to his room. “did you brush your teeth already?”

he nods. “yes. um, sis?”

you hum as you flick the light switch on in kou’s room, ushering him over to his bed. he goes under the covers, and you tuck the duvet right under his nose, pinching it afterwards. kou giggles, “sis, stop!”

“okay, okay.” with one last pinch, you sit back comfortably at the edge of his bed. “what was it that you wanted to ask?”

“oh. um…” kou’s cheeks flush as he looks away. “can you um, put the butterfly clips in my hair again for when i go to school tomorrow? i really like how it looks in my hair.”

“of course!” you coo, kissing both his cheeks. “anything for my little brother.”

“thank you, sis,” he giggles. “can you read to me now?”

“of course—”

kou begins to cough uncontrollably. you’re quick to get on your feet, leaving temporarily and coming back with a cup of water and two pills in your hand. you pat his back as kou carefully takes the glass and pills into his hand, popping them into his mouth before washing them down with the water. once he calms down, he awkwardly lays back down in his bed, screwing his eyes shut.

you know he doesn’t want to talk about it.

so you grab the book you two have been reading together for the past month, finding the page you two last left on and begin reading out loud to him. a couple minutes pass before kou tells you that he’s feeling sleepy. you place the bookmark on the page you just read and place the book back on the nightstand.

“goodnight, kou,” you whisper, giving his forehead a quick kiss, ready to head out when you notice that the window in his room is open. you head over to it, leaning out for a second to feel the night air. a shiver goes down your spine, goosebumps appearing on your arms and the back of your neck. you immediately lean back inside the room, shutting the window and locking it.

it felt like you were being watched… but who the hell would want to watch you?

you're nobody.

you scrunch your nose, deciding to ignore whatever just happened and opting to go freshen up before heading to sleep.

you’ll just have to worry about it if it ever becomes a problem, but for now it isn’t.

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BLOODY HELL | yuyusuyu 2024

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mrs-chonk · 11 days ago

Text

A waste of blood - Paucity

Part 1 master list here (The story is heavily inspired by this art made by @miracleboylene) tags : sevikaxreader, AU of arcane, set in a fantasy/maleficent-inspired world, reader isn't explicitly mentioned or present in this chapter, brief swearing involved, 1000+ words, third person, can't really think of anything else note : this series will be a bit longer! please don't complain about how many parts this will take, I have to include world-building and add a whole new character. Anyways, enjoy! summary : Sevika is called to the castle. But for what task?

"We're friends, aren't we?" they ask quietly.

She looked at them, a small pause strung in between them, like the highest cord of a lyre. "Of course."

They scoot closer to the second, taking her hand. My golden girl, They think. The girl with the obsidian hair littering the view of her dusty eyes. Eyes so knowing, knowing of things that should've been kept behind closed doors and garden hedges. The girl with the big voice and shifty eyes. The eyes that have seen so many things that should've been left behind fresh linen sheets and starry skies. The girl with the passionate bearings about small things like rocks, sunrises, and the smell of dandelions in her neighbour's garden. Her small chubby hands, which were calloused from squeezing a wheelbarrow too tight. Her chipped tooth from when she'd fallen off her horse when they were 11. The scar on her left cheek that she'd refused to talk about, and the other thought it was because she wanted to keep something close to her chest. Something that the other didn't know. The girl with her early mornings and secret smiles. The girl with her worries.

The girl with a father who slowly smothered her, his binding words and silent resentment.

The girl with her gentle nature and loyal heart, too precious to be exposed to the world. Yet she was not exposed, but instead thrown, dragged, kicked, and beaten into it. Shamefully.

“And we’re always going to be friends?” They ask, fragile, as if a single breath could undo the 13 years of life they had already lived so boisterously.

The girl looked seemingly undisturbed by this question, a skill she had learned so well from her father. Though internally she wonders what follows this conversation, what tragedy the other could have foreseen to tear them apart so suddenly. ”Yes. Always.” She says, with hesitancy you could only see if you paid close enough attention, gently rubbing her round fingers against the calluses at the edge of her palm.

The other smiles and closes their eyes beneath the twilight, and allow the moonlight to swallow them. Emulating a sharp glistening spark along their contrastingly melanated skin. “That's good enough for me, Golden Girl.”

“Fuck.”

Her fingers fumble the sling for what feels like the millionth time. The bend of her chest leaves little room for anything else, forcing the sling of her prosthetic to crawl its way provokingly between the divot of her mounds. A string of shushed audible fucks leaves her deep brown lips, as she finally reaches for her merlot cape. Quickly tossing it over her shoulder. The metal creaking, a once sturdy design betrays her with its age, rust now lining its entrances and crevices against her shoulder. The floorboards were now littered with sun rays that had broken through her window. She makes a few lazy, but large strides to her varnished entrance door stepping on them, and closing the door with conviction behind her.

“In a hurry Sev?” She turns to see a tall, wide man holding a dull machete and a bucket with questionably cut slabs of assorted vegetables inside. And a lucrative addition of dirt smeared across his upper lip and hairline. A small girl behind him begins to make “snowballs” out of the soppy mud below her. Lightly giggling to herself and her silver hair clips reflecting the sunlight above. Sevika fiddles with the lock on her door, knowing that the frame of it is so torn that the door could easily be kicked down regardless. ”Still rushin’ around? Ya know, I’d say that ‘Vanessa’ up there works you too much these days.” he says with a hand on his hip, twirling the machete loosely in small circles.

“Busy, Vander. Unlike some people, I don't have time for mud pies.” She says unamused and in a slightly bitchy tone as she finishes up with the lock, abandoning it and leaving it open. Her weak brown soles slap the stone path as she rushes uphill. Making way for the tall ivory towers of the kingdom ahead. Vander flicks the machete’s handle against his side, the dull thud matching his quiet sigh. “Alright then.” Vander mumbles, to himself almost. With a huff, he turns around to give the small blue-haired girl a frown, followed by a stern index finger nodding in her direction. She drops the congealed ball of mud and wipes her generously soiled hands on her pant leg.

Sevika ponders the inquiries of the queen, the reason she's walking this absurd distance in the first place. She was accustomed to the queen's requests for intel, small things regarding the people of Sevika’s side of the kingdom. A side the queen herself would rather distance herself from.

The queen knows they're not all animals unlike the rest of the council is convinced. She sees them as important; she knows they serve a greater purpose than even they know. But it is about keeping them in line. The lesser must be cultivated to believe in little, dream small, and keep working —all with no hope of achieving above their means. To keep them tamed you must beat them, kill them, and hurt them. That is a queen's duty. But Sevika’s duty lies in a more urgent nature.

“You're late.” The woman's octave reached lower than Sevika was expecting. Spindling her position, Ambessa faces Sevika. Her expression was rather blank, yet obtrusively disturbed. Sevika didn't reply with words, but instead with a bothered expression that rang “Get to the point.” without verbalizing it. Ambessa saw it and promptly ignored it, moving to more pressing matters than the ugly meaning behind Sevika's contorted face.

A gruff expression of hesitancy clouds her face, her dark brows nuzzle their way into the center of her face and her lips tighten their seal; as if careful not to spill unwanted secrets. “You’ve heard of the market spikes I would imagine? Ref among them.” She slowly began her small circle around Sevika, her heavy feet gently meeting the tile floor. Leaving small unseen traces of dirt and bacteria. The small flickering candles down the hall left glints of orange sprinkled in her luxurious coiled hair, the strands of silver emulating a bright white rather than any specific colour. “It's funny how a dried-up flower can cause so much disturbance when left unattended.” Sevika releases a pent-up sigh from her lightly scared mouth. “And you think I know who's eating poppy seeds?” she asks in an almost rhetorical tone. Ambessa, yet again, doesn't give her sass any attention, looking at her when she speaks but not changing her face to accommodate her words. Turning her head to look at a painting on the wall instead, one depicting her young daughter, who could be no more than a couple of years old by now, maybe 8 or 9. Sevika had seen her daughter a few times, peeking around the corner at her and Ambessa’s conversations or sitting with poise and strictness in portraits along the main hall of the castle, which was always dimly lit, heavily guarded, and the location of these curious conversations. Ambessa allowed a small indent of worry to crumple her brows.

“No. I want order. Ref is a distraction, but distractions are costly.” Her face ever so slightly changed to one of frustration and reminiscence. “Someone a little too close to home has let their greediness get the best of them. Someone’s been careless. Their indulgence compromises more than their purse. It compromises us all.” Sevika's interest peaked, the concept of a part of the court succumbing to what must be public humiliation among the council, the thought amused her. “This weed must be nipped before it grows outside of my jurisdiction. I need someone with a precise hand and… good sheers.” she says, questioning her analogy a bit before she continues speaking. Sevika slowly understanding the picture being painted before her. “Find the hidden game, the treasures buried beneath the decay. Bring them to me, before the wolves smell weakness in our borders. I trust you know how to get your hands dirty, coming from a long line of prestigious hunters.” Her smile doesn't reach her ears, and she lets out a low hum when Sevika relaxes her face out of annoyance, and into curiosity as she begins to speak. “What am I looking for?” Sevika doesn't want to feed the rich by any means, but she of all people knows best what happens when the rich go unfed.

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aphpuffinchild · 1 year ago

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since it's out i can finally post my piece for @hws-anthology as well as the timelapse for it. as is arguably all my hetalia work, it's a love letter to my friend @pyrrhocorax 's fic Sendlingur og Sandlóa - i'll ramble a bit about how much it means to me, as well as the symbolism i wormed into this piece below the read more :)

i originally had two pages planned for this piece, potentially more - the fic is a good 74k words long and certainly not light on scenes i could and wanted to pull from, but various things led into other various things and one page was all i could manage, so i tried to cram in what i could, so here's that (in a rough, somewhat arbitrary order of focal points)

the opening chapter! the car is a framing device for the piece as much as it is for the journey the characters will take following that first chapter, so i wanted to use the car window/shapes as a literal framing device in my drawing

joi, shaky at best in his sense of self, sees no reflection in the window, instead there's a silhouetted raven to signify the search he must go on to find it

while not perfectly transcribed by virtue of wonky (plus an extra) line(s), the notes coming from joi's headphones are the opening to the song sendlingur og sandlóa, the fic's namesake, which a loved one kindly transposed by ear for me for the purpose of this piece

in a similar vein, the stickers on joi's suitcase are of a purple sandpiper and a ringed plover, the birds after which the song is named - here they are as transparents and in their original colours

i wanted to create a sliiight impression that joi is the one knocking over the chessboard, representing his repeated rejections of it (both physically, and the things it represents)

the chess pieces were also chosen specifically! originally i was going to use a black rook and a white pawn to match chapter 41, but for the sake of having alternating colours and the rest of my metaphors working (iirc) i swapped those colours around. that, and i wanted to match chapter 13's white king and black pawn - the black pawn stuck, the white king was colour swapped for colour cohesion reasons like the other's. (visual contrast was important to me, but the white queen blending slightly into the sky was okay for symbolism reasons) (there was also black king, white rook from chapter 3, so it all worked out anyway - there's a lot of chess in this story and i only had space for so many pieces and colours, basically)

speaking of which, the black pawn is for joi (chapter 13), the white queen is for halle (someone who, from joi's perspective, can go anywhere, vs joi's pawn, someone to be used -> see chapter 35 and perspective).

the king piece is falling (but hasn't quite fallen) between halle and henrik (chapter 3, 7, 13, though i most clearly thought of 19)

the person in the top right corner is eduard! i desperately wanted to include him because i think he's deserved it, and i considered a lot of ways of working him in, but i think an ambiguous silhouette that isn't Quite part of the main picture works better narratively

note also that he's separated from the other's through a red curtain, to represent the iron curtain (naturally) i wanted it to match ber + tino's part in some way, to sorta emphasise their similar foundations despite being split apart across places

the flowers at eduard's window are placed and chosen purposefully as well! orange/red zinnia's outside (for familial ties, steadfastness, friendship and remembrance) for what eduard puts out in to the world, then lily-of-the-valley for tino and cornflower for him inside to show what he wants to hold close :)

halle and joi are the only characters with their eyes open - halle looks towards the viewer/author/reader/joi, while joi looks away all together. if you've read the fic (which i assume you have because i can't imagine this is interested to read otherwise) you probably don't need me to explain why that reflects their roles in the story

similarly, every character apart from the brothers is turned towards another in some way (eduard does not count when his flowers do, and his role in the story is based around that disconnect partially anyway) tino towards ber and eduard (and hana, i guess), ber towards tino, henrik to halle, halle to henrik (though he looks away - his values are elsewhere even when they are together). joi, at best, looks at his own reflection in the window

the colour scheme, while arbitrarily picked from gradient maps based on what i felt "fit" has been approved by the author as being very "SoS core"

finally, the poem on the note, chapter 46

all that being said, i can and will now talk about my personal relationship with SoS, so unless that interests you i imagine the post is done now! thank you for reading :)

the first comment i posted on SoS is dated 2nd November 2016 - logging into my old account i can see i bookmarked it on the 31st August that same year, so i can safely assume i first read or at least found it then. a month after my first comment, i posted another on a different account, pouring a few bits of my heart out and the author responded! we went back and forth a bit and eventually talked (i think) via tumblr for a little, but the majority of our conversations were via skype for whatever reason (we didn't call, just texted). it was a lot of me looking for writing advice, insight to their work/process/skill, talking about The Brothers and talking about psychology/the brain on a general and personal level. i think if i read our conversations back now i'd cringe, given that i was an awkward, fumbling 16 year old, but i dont think anything else wouldve been fitting given the subject matter. eventually our conversations fizzled out and we stopped talking for years, but i'd go back to SoS routinely and cry.

in may of 2021, i posted another comment during what in hindsight was definitely another relatively minor mental health episode - i think it was half trying to emphasise how important the work was to me on the off chance pyrr saw it, and half a bid for connection since i had no idea if they even remembered us talking. i assumed nothing would come of it, and for about a year that was true - until pyrr responded after all in february of 2022 - i'm happy to say we've been talking consistently on discord since then. i feel a little weird speaking too intimately about our friendship as it is now since it's not just my story to tell (though pyrr, if you're reading this) (i'm sure you are at some point) (you're welcome to talk about it however, i just didn't want to without consulting you) but i can say with some certainty that it's at least a little bit my fault that we have a sequel now - cementing my place as official number #1 fan and validating the me from almost 8 years ago in a way i don't think either of us processes well.

it's here that i feel the need to talk about my other dear friend, @hws-lceland , who i'm grateful to have met through the zine's discord server. i'm sure they're reading this too, and a lot of what our relationship means to me is stuff that's probably a bit too vulnerable for either of us to speak publicly, but i *can* say that i love them very much, and i'm really grateful to have someone else to understand, and that he read SoS for me. i thought he needed it, and i hope i was right

sendlingur is...endlessly important to me. i'm aiming to not write an essay here (a goal i think i've already sorta shot in the foot) but i think it's important for me to talk about some of this a little loudly, all the same. my writing has changed because of the series - remeeting with pyrr and showing them some of my more recent work was interesting since it was apparent even to them the influences i'd taken (to be fair, in one section i explicitly asked and did borrow a format of theirs, but this goes beyond that). when i was 16 i asked my mum to read the fic in a desperate bid to be understood. i've cried reading the fic many, many times. i've signed off letters and poems with my switched around version of i'm sorry / thank you / i love you (i swap the first two around) many, many, many times, including in a close friend's wedding gift. SoS has very sincerely changed my definition of love. the name halle is a part of my abstract mindscape. id already considered changing my name to johannes anyway and this fic certainly didnt help. i've gained a friendship of 7 and a half years through it. i've gained another newer one now, too. i am not well. i wasn't well then, reading it, and it hasn't fixed me (i am worse, now, arguably), but it healed something, or at least made me feel understood. i could go on, and maybe sometime i will (there were so many things i wanted to include in my piece and pay homage to!), but for now i will thank anyone who took the time to read all this (again), and say that i look forward to experiencing the sequel

as always, i'm sorry, thank you, i love you

#hetalia #hetalia nordics #hws iceland #hws norway #hetalia iceland #hetalia norway #hetalia denmark #hetalia sweden #hws sweden #hws estonia #hetalia estonia #hetalia finland #hws finland

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 7 months ago

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‘He Called It Jumbo’

CHAPTER TWO: The Johnson Treatment

Back in the 60s, I served as an aide to Lyndon Baines Johnson, often referred to by his initials LBJ, was the 36th president of the United States, U.S. representative and U.S. senator. Plus a philanderer of the highest order. Had a twenty year affair with one mistress, an illegitimate child with another mistress, and numerous brief affairs as well. And a few weeks ago, had me on his cock which calls "Jumbo." For obvious reasons.

Even after my encounter, President Johnson acted like nothing had happen and continued to rely on his bevy of babes referred to by the other his male aides as his harem. All of his secretaries, plus his two mistresses, got the Johnson Treatment. The Johnson Treatment you ask is when he'd corner someone, leaned his face into theirs and threatened, promised, flattered or cajoled, the person to give him what he wanted. This was the “Johnson Treatment.” Thanks in part to this tactic, Johnson would go on to become a powerful Senator and eventually President of the United States. Plus have a lot of sex.

And to give his wife, Lady Bird Johnson the illusion of being a faithful husband, he tasked the Secret Service with keeping his philandering from her. Even having a buzzer install to warn him when she's coming. Obviously, that didn't work as Lady Bird endured his behavior, with only occasional reprimands. One of which is having me work with him instead of one of his bevy of at secretaries.

For several weeks, I was tasked with working extra hours, including nights and weekends with President Johnson. Although he was crude as the day is long, I would find myself admiring his tall, lanky, 56-year-old figure. And of course, Jumbo. Meanwhile, I suspected he might be horned up, not having access to his harem. The tension I was feeling was distracting and unwelcome.

Just then, standing beside me, President Johnson openly rummaged around in his groin in a most histrionic fashion possible. I could see his cock straining against the material of his pants and I admit, I started to get pretty hard. I guess it was because I was surprised (and aroused) that I stared too long, and he noticed. I looked up and he was looking right at me, smiling.

"Damn, I could really use a good blow job. I'm so tense. Best medicine I know of, right son?" President Johnson flatly said.

By now, President Johnson is towering over me, invading my personal space as I uncomfortably lean back, clenching my arms to my chest, mumbling something inconsequential in response.

"You like sucking cock. Don't you Davis?"

"Ugh, er, I guess so Mr. President…", my voice trails.

"Get on your knees boy. Your President needs you."

I quickly went down to my knees and watched in growing excitement as he unbuckled his pants and pulled out a semi-erect Jumbo. I took a hold of his shaft, took the tip into my mouth and sucked on it, running my tongue around it and running the tip of my tongue along his opening, tasting the first bitter sweet drops of pre-cum. I did this till he began to stroke the back of my head, I then opened my mouth a bit further and went down his shaft. The old man moaned as I firmly sucked on Jumbo, feeling it grow in my mouth, mushrooming out.

Fully erect he was above average length at 12 to 13 inches and slightly above average thickness. It had been months since I had been with anyone else and it felt so good to a cock in my mouth again. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the smell of his crotch and the wet sounds of my lips sucking an erect shaft. The sensation of that cock sliding almost out of my mouth then, back in till it touched the back of my throat was incredible.

“Hell, that feels wonderful.” He added as he suddenly reached down and grabbed me behind the head with his huge, weathered hands.

Then he started moving my mouth up and down his thick dick shaft as he fucked my mouth like he was fucking some pussy. I took his plunging dick and made love to it with my tongue as the old man repeatedly shoved it down my throat and pulled it quickly back out.

“Damn, this is hot! Shit your mouth is better than a pussy.” President Johnson called out excitedly as he fucked my mouth faster and faster.

I could hear him panting as I felt the head of his wonderful cock swell just before he tightened his grip and put it fully in my mouth and began to cum. I almost gagged as his cum splashed the back of my throat, I swallowed most of it but some dribbled down my chin.

"You really know how to suck a cock, boy. Didn't take you long at all to get me off." He said as he slid his cock in and out of my wanting mouth, finishing his orgasm.

I smiled up at him as I wiped his man cream off my chin. I continued to stroke him as he petted my hair.

"Stand up and take those pants off." He said as he pulled me up to my feet and smacked my ass.

I did as I was told and was standing naked from the waist down with my hands on the desk spreading my legs slightly. Then he slid his hands down to my round ass and squeezed it before getting behind me, gripping my hips and spreading my ass cheeks with his thumbs. He rubbed the head of Jumbo along my crack and especially my pale pink button of an asshole before I heard him spit into his hand. Then I felt the pressure as he pushed the head into my man pussy, stretching me as it slipped past my opening. I groaned half in pain half in pleasure as he pierced me with his cock.

"That's it. Let ol' Jumbo in." The old man said as he slowly pulled out till the head almost slipped out then thrust it smoothly half back in.

Each entry into me made me catch my breath and made my chest tight as his rhythm began to pick up speed, grunting with pleasure. I gasped out loud as I pushed back against his thrusts enjoying the sound of skin slapping together, and that hard dick pounding my ass. He fucked me with a desperate need as fast as he could for another ten minutes.

"Oh God, you're so fucking big! Fuck me damn it FUCK ME! Damn it, fuck my hole! Own it!"

Hearing that, spurred him to pump into me faster and harder, forcing more moans and gasps from me. "God yes! Fuck me Mr. President, Fuck me!"

President Johnson's rhythm became erratic, my dick was vibrating with excitement and my balls were tight to my body waiting to cum. Suddenly, he pulled out, pressed the head of Jumbo against my ass and came. The first stream of his cum bounced back to cover the head of his dick, he pressed his hot cock up and the next stream went up my back. The last stream went into my opened hole. President Johnson moved the head around smearing his cum on my skin before he slipped it back down to my sore hole. I had came without even touching my cock, but hadn't noticed while he fucked me.

"Damn boy, that was better then any pussy I have ever fucked." He said still smoothly pumping my ass like he was working up to come again.

"Damn, Mr. President, how long can you go?" I said as he pushed that wonderful cock back in me as far as it could go, sending a shiver through my balls and up my dick and through my chest.

"With an ass this tight, I can go for a while longer. But as much as I love this, we better get cleaned up before Bird comes a looking." He said holding himself in me for a moment longer than with drew.

"But I will find a way to fuck you again. Count on it."

We got cleaned up and dressed just before Lady Bird came though the Oval Office door. Ben told him I was everything he was told I was and more. And they went outside and talked. President Johnson was a man of his word. Between his wife, virtually all of his secretaries, his two mistresses and I got the Johnson Treatment. Johnson was a sexual beast who'd screw anything that would crawl, basically. He was a horny old man.

#The Johnson Treatment #fan fiction #lbj #He Called It Jumbo

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a-star-that-burns-brightly · 4 months ago

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CH2-13 Thoughts + CH2-14 Predictions

Hello DRDT Fandom! CH2-13 came out about four or so days ago as I'm posting this, and I finally mustered up the energy and mental strength to write down my overall thoughts, and also general predictions for what I think is to come in the next episode. A lot happened in this episode and we have a lot to cover, so let's get started! Before we do though, I think I should give us a reminder of where we currently are in terms of the swear chart and the bingo card, as of CH2-12 Swear Statistics

Bingo Card

Just like the last post, I'll be separating my talking points into character categories, so let's jump straight in with the big man himself...

Levi

Quick Disclaimer: I myself am still trying to unlearn the mindset that having low or no empathy is in any way a moral failing. If I say anything wrong or rude, please politely correct me. Remember kids: Your feelings, thoughts, and emotions, what you feel and how you feel them if you do at all, do not have any moral weight, they are simply aspects of your brain and you cannot control your brain. The only thing that has moral weight is your actions.

So as we learned in the previous episode, Levi has the murderer secret! And as we learn in this episode, he apparently killed four people, one of which being his father. DRDT continues to take Danganronpa's standard tropes and incorporating them in unique ways, in this case Levi represents the trope of the Chapter 2 Serial Killer reveal (Genocide Jack, Peko, Maki). I love that DRDT keeps doing this and I hope it keeps it up You know what else is staying consistent, though?

(x) Levi: That incident happened when I was in my junior year of high school. Levi: My junior year was also the year that Hope's Peak scouted me as the Ultimate Personal Stylist. Levi: To my understanding, it would've reflected poorly on Hope's Peak to recruit a murderer, so they pressured the court into not pressing charges.

US-HPA being morally corrupt as all fuck, that's what! Like no, seriously, it makes more and more sense as for why Xander David and Mai were most likely forming a revolution against this damn place, cause wow. The choice to scout out Levi during his Junior Year, when he was still in high school, is...interesting. Given that this Hope's Peak takes in College-aged students, why not just wait until Levi has graduated high school? In fact, that probably would've been even better because by then Levi definitely would've perfected his skills in styling by then, and thus would further justify him being enrolled in the academy. We don't know whether or not Levi was scouted before or after his incident, but given how Levi explains the events, I'm willing to bet this was after. Which...makes thing especially strange. But I'm sure it's no big deal. I mean, it's not like we have any evidence of US-HPA preying on vulnerable childre--

(x) Min: The Ultimate Contest for Eminent Students was made for a very specific target audience. Min: Those children who had no talents, who would consider spending their entire lives preparing for one single test for even a chance to become an Ultimate...

Oh. Well isn't that funny, huh?

Part of Hope's Peak's branding in general is the promise of a better future, which is something that Levi clearly wants. So I can most definitely see why the idea of being enrolled in the academy appealed to him. Levi being a delinquent in his teenage years definitely tracks, given how we know that his family was full of bad influences (including himself more than likely). And I am absolutely not surprised that Levi ended up killing his father. I think a lot of us theorized for a while that the person he killed was linked to his family.

I'd absolutely adore to learn more about Levi's family situation and what exactly their relationship with each other was, because "We were bad influences on each other" can mean a lot of things. Given the fact that not even the police cared about the death of Levi's father, I'd be pretty willing to believe that Mr. Fontana is a wanted man who has done a lot of criminal harm to others. That might even be where Levi formed the mindset that people are defined by their actions. Maybe, that's my best guess and it doesn't even include his mother and brothers, lmao. Anyway, that's enough of Murder, Corruption, and Daddy Issues. Let's talk about the other thing that was revealed about Levi this episode, or more-so put into words. His low, if zero empathy. Firstly, those who are headcannoning Levi is ASPD, I see you and I love you. So much. But I would be lying if I didn't admit that my first thought upon watching this scene was "Levi is so Autismcoded" lmao But in all seriousness, I absolutely adore this side of his character. In general something I've always loved about Levi is the fact that he, to put it bluntly, does not know how to act. He's constantly seeing what others do and copying them, and asking them for guidance when he doesn't know what to do. His first appearance shows him using Xander and Teruko's appearances to wager what kind of person they are, which is more than likely how he got into styling in the first place. He's basically masking and trying to appear as what he views as normal because he's aware that his lack of empathy is not something most humans possess. And his actions reflect that of what he thinks a good person would do in these scenarios, whether that be your friends not inviting you to an event, or someone profusely bleeding from their neck. To put it in simple terms: He's masking. I love that. It really reminds me of the experiences had by my neurodivergent friends, and even though Levi is not canonically neurodivergent, the fact that so many people headcannon him with ASPD or Autism really goes to show how DT-Dev nailed that kind of experience, and how well they wrote Levi's low empathy in general. Well-done, DT-Dev :D ...Also I think it's safe to say that Accomplice!Levi is not happening. Damn it, I really liked that theory lmao.

Ace

[not even three minutes later]

...See, this is why I always believed Ace was telling the truth about David and Arei's conversation, because wow this man is competing with the former in the Shitty Liar Olympics.

If Ace's sense of security around Levi wasn't already shattered, it sure as hell is now. Which is very upsetting to see, but also very entertaining to me as an aficionado of toxic yaoi. I was never really an Acevi girl, it was just never something I was attracted to (probably because for a majority of CH2 Part 1's airing I really didn't like Ace lmao), but this combined with the Other Thing I'll talk about later has definitely sold me on it. I hope they get worse.

I can't remember what post it was, but I remember seeing someone talk about Ace very much projecting a friendship onto Levi that was never really there between them, and looking back, I absolutely agree. I mean, where the two of them really friends? I do think that Levi does, or did, genuinely like Ace. I don't think he would've been hanging around him in Chapter 1 if he didn't. But it was simply just that, he liked Ace. Ace loved Levi, and saw him as his lifeboat in the midst of this scary unfamiliar situation. Even if everyone else either was annoyed by or straight-up disliked Ace, even if he could die at any moment, he could still rely on Levi as a presence of safety and security, but that all came crumbling down.

ace can you please change your sprite

The fact that Ace, the man famous for jumping to conclusions, not thinking anything through or in depth, and switching his opinions on others on a dime, is even asking for Levi's defense at all, is proof enough to me that even after everything Ace still wanted to cling onto the fantasy of their friendship he had built up in his mind. But upon hearing that Levi never cared about what happened to him, he can no longer do so. ...And why do I think Ace got attached to Levi so quickly?

(x) Ace: I was totally right all along to burn our friendship--No, I can't even call it it "Friendship." Ace: There's only one person in my whole life who I've ever been able to call my friend. That I ever thought, even for just a short time, that you and I were "friends" is an insult to his memory.

Yeah it's time to talk about this.

So for those who are not in the know, DT-Dev confirmed in a now-deleted ask that this friend of Ace's is named Taylor Riley.

(thank you to @/nicohakobyan / weightedblankett on twitter for providing this screenshot)

We know very little about this man other than his name, his gender, the fact that he was Ace's friend, and that he's dead. We don't actually know that fourth one, but I think "insult to his memory" speaks for itself lmao. As such, we do not know the details of his relationship with Ace... But I've made more out of less before, so let's get to talking. Here's what I think:

I think that Taylor was a presence in Ace's life much similar to how Levi was to him in Chapter 1: A strong protective figure that helped to make the scared-of-everything Ace feel a sense of safety. And then some form of incident happened that resulted in Taylor's death, leaving Ace alone, heartbroken, bitter, and terrified. That sense of security he once had was ripped away from him, and without Taylor, he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.

And then in the killing game, he meets Levi, who provides him with a similar feeling of safety. Immediately he begins to project the memory of Taylor onto Levi and as such becomes attached, quickly considering Levi a friend because of it. And I'm not entirely pulling this idea that Ace was projecting Taylor onto Levi out of my ass, either.

Ace: dark blue/purple (reasoning: refuses to provide reasoning)

When we first got this answer, most people assumed this was referring to Levi, but I honestly think it is more likely that this is referring to Taylor. But those colors are still part of Levi's design, which automatically sets up a parallel between both Levi and Taylor Ace projected his relationship and the memory of Taylor onto a man he barely knew, and when that man lost his patience with him, his fantasy was swiftly kicked with the steel-toed shoe of reality. Hell, Ace's reaction after Levi snapped at him may had been due to his illusion of safety crumbling beneath him, but going down the road of this theory, Levi snapping at him might've been the first time Ace truly saw Levi and not Taylor. He had been giving this man a script and a role to play, and Levi responded by tearing up the paper and telling him to fuck off. In a sense, you could say that in that moment, Ace lost Taylor a second time.

Since I don't think Ace is going to be the killer as he was knocked out and thus did not have any knowledge of the murder mechanism (at least not including the theory that he tried to kill himself, which... Is a possibility, but I don't think that's the case). And if he does live past his chapter, I honestly think Chapter 3 will mark his breaking point. Any fantasy of Levi that he was clinging onto with his pinky has now shattered into pieces ten times over, the person who tried to kill him is still alive and for all he knows, could do it again whenever the hell they want to and people will take their side over his own. Next to no one in the cast likes him and they make that explicitly clear, and worse of all, he will still be trapped in this godforsaken...whatever facility this place is meant to be. So to cap off this section that got way too long, Ace Trauma Dump is on my Chapter 3 bingo card, and if we get to see Taylor and his design includes dark blue and purple I will actually become spaghettified. Please survive Ace, you are finally starting to become not C-Tier

Hu and Veronika

Lumping these two together because I have about the same amount to say about both of them and their secrets were revealed together. Hu's secret is the Hopeless Child one, and Veronika's is the Self Harm one. I think after CH2 Part 1 most of us predicted as such, but it's still very satisfying to be right. What I'm more interested is this supposed pact that they made off-screen. I have to assume that Veronika went to Hu pretty quickly to reveal her secret to her given her general disinterest in topics of suicide and self harm. So I'd wager this pact was probably made at around CH2-5. Not that that really tells us much about the actual conversation, but it's nice to have a time-frame for reference.

I don't expect the actual conversation to be shown because from what we currently have it doesn't really add much of anything, but it would definitely be cool.

(x) Hu: I've been quite selfish this whole time, keeping my secret because I didn't want you all to think less of me...

I've said this before in this post, but I absolutely believe that David eventually coaxed and pressured Hu into revealing her secret to him, as well as why she kept it for so long. And I also think David implanted, or I guess more accurately watered the seed in Hu's head that she was inherently selfish for not sharing her secret. That, I think we would benefit from a flashback, but maybe I'm just biased because I desperately want Hu lore. Please DT-Dev, I'm on my knees Hmm... what else?

(x) Veronika: After all, my own so-called secret isn't even the worst thing I've done. Isn't that so utterly disappointing for this motive?

Oh yeah there's that. What the fuck, Veronika? Like, I feel like this is something I should've expected this, but for some reason I didn't. I'll be honest here, I really have nothing right now. But whatever Veronika is referring to here, I feel like it has something to do with her 'dearest friend' mentioned in the CH2 Q&A (who's name is Alyssa Belyaeva.) What Veronika actually did? I do not have the slightest clue, you can never know with this girl. But no matter what she did, I will probably love her even more for it. Glad that DT-Dev seems to agree with the precedence of supporting women's wrongs.

Teruko

...So I'm glad to see we're all in agreement that that is not her fucking secret. I mean, I'm sure it applies to her. She is an orphan, her parents are out of the picture, and though we don't know the whereabouts of her brother and neither does she, she most likely assumes he's dead as well. But honestly, given the fact that again this is not her fucking secret, I'm starting to wonder if that's really the case... Can Teacher Tawaki theory still live on? I'll save that for another post.

Anyway what was I talking about? Oh yeah, that is not her fucking secret.

And this little bitch knows that for a fact.

I won't go too deep into this because there have already been people discussing it better than I could, but this silent agreement the two of them have to not share Teruko's true secret is so palpable and interesting to me. David knows that Teruko's secret isn't that, but for whatever reason, he is keeping his mouth shut. And he just gives Teruko that shit-eating smirk. Have I ever mentioned how much I love Teruvid? I fucking love Teruvid. But yeah, I still think 100% that Teruko's secret is that the killing game is all her fault. It just does not make sense for Xander and Min's secrets to belong to anyone other than each other as they are dead. And in general it just makes sense for Teruko's character and her role in the story. And I can't help but feel like Teruko's actual secret will be revealed at the end of the Chapter.

Eden

... I mean. Do I really need to say more? I swear I made this exact joke in the previous thoughts post, but I can't help it. It applies perfectly to this CG. When this CG, this fucking JUMPSCARE of a CG, popped up on my screen, I'm pretty sure I ran around in a circle screaming in my room for a total of ten minutes. The first of two times I would do that during this masterfully crafted scene. I want to think of some kind of insightful analysis, but the truth is basically in your face. Eden was the one who gouged out Xander's eye. Why did she do it? Where does this fit into the overall lore? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW What the fuck am I supposed to say? This CG is basically all we have, and we'll definitely have to wait for more information. Especially since Eden is totally the culprit, but we'll get to that in the predictions section. (yeah if you can't tell my writing juice is starting to run out, but if I get this out any later than today I will kill myself)

David

(...for a scumbag, he's kinda cute.) So first of all, David is slowly becoming the funniest character in the cast in my opinion, which is a huge achievement in a cast full of very funny characters. And in general I think as a character he perfectly captures DRDT's general tone of half-and-half both silliness and angst, like yin and yang. Secondly though, the big thing that David did in this chapter (besides keeping Teruko's secret and being funny) is lying to Eden about the rest of the conversation he had with Arei. Ultimately, I think David himself saw that action as a good deed.

Think of it from his perspective: This is a man who has had hope and change presented to him on a silver platter multiple times, and then had it violently ripped away from him. And the most recent example of that, Arei, presented him with a better future and the possibility of change only to be killed upon trying to act on said change. If he told Eden that Arei still had hope, that she still wanted to change, it would aspire Eden with that same hope that in his eyes is destined to crash down on her. So instead of inflicting that same pain onto her, he instead chose to say nothing at all Maybe I'm giving David too much credit, what he did was still at the end of the day, incredibly dickish. But that interpretation is what makes the most sense to me personally. That's all I really have to say in regards to David... So, let's move onto what was, in my opinion, the star of this week's episode.

Arei

Arei Nageishi.... Ohhhh save me Arei Nageishi.... Arei was already one of my favorite characters in the cast due to her personality, design, voice acting, and most of all the character development she had throughout the course of Chapter 2. But this episode, this scene... It cemented her a well-earned spot in my top four, sitting only behind Whit, Teruko, and David.

The flashback scene of Arei and David in this episode is honestly up there with some of the best scenes in the whole show to me, almost solely because of how it caps off Arei as a character postmortem, and the story that she, along with Chapter 2 as a whole, is meant to tell. This whole chapter has been themed around the idea of what classifies a good person, and this flashback scene provides such a great payoff to that theme and it is everything I could've ever wished for. The message I got from Arei's story is that, ultimately, the idea of a "Good Person" and a "Bad Person" are nothing more than just that. Ideas. And in being ideas, they are above anything else, arbitrary, subjective, and at the end of the day, incredibly meaningless when it comes to discussing actual human beings. Insistence on categorizing yourself and the people around you into boxes of "pure saint that can do no wrong" and "irredeemable demon who will burn in the pits of hell" is a fast track to viewing a complicated, colorful world into a few shades of black and white. That's how David views the world, and has viewed the world probably for years. And I'm going to be honest and say that I think before being confronted with the truth of David's actions, Arei was heading right down the same path that he had headed.

(x) Arei: Of course I wanted to change myself. Who wants to be a grab-bag of negative personality traits? There's not even anything positive you could say about me. Arei: Still, for the longest time, I thought it was stupid to even try. I'm rotten to the core, and I might as well be a different species from saints like Eden and you. Arei: A pig never hopes to grow up into a human, because it knows that such a metamorphosis is impossible.

And this is the line that really, really makes me think that. She calls David and Eden saints because (up until this moment) she viewed both of them as the ideal of what makes a good person, similar to how David views Xander. And on the contrast, claims herself to be rotten to the core, ontologically evil with no redemption in sight. She's even performing David's habit of self-dehumanization, likening herself to a pig in the same way David likens himself to a cat in the LGI video, which goes to show how this mindset of black-and-white is, above all else, a dehumanizing view on the human race that relegates people into cardboard boxes with the flaps taped shut. If she didn't find out the truth of David's actions, I am confident that she would've done down the same path that he did, becoming convinced that she will be a terrible person until the day she dies because she cannot reach this worthless standard of a good person that she has set up in her head. But we know that's not how it goes. Arei does realize that the man she once thought of as a saint might be, in his words, a lying manipulative scumbaggy piece of shit. And upon realizing that, the second half of the message unlocks itself. There is no such thing as irredeemability.

Change is a part of being human. Humans are not built to run in a hamster wheel for the rest of their days, reliving their mistakes over and over again wallowing in their self-hatred and guilt. Eventually, they have to get off the wheel and start taking the steps necessary to grow, change, develop and flourish to properly better themselves. (This applies to yourself just as much as it applies to the worst, most depraved individual you know by the way) The alternative is living in a four-by-four black box of self-loathing and relentless stagnancy, which is not productive for the person or the people they've hurt. It is only when you reject these black-and-white categories of "Good Person" and "Bad Person" and accept that no matter what you've done, you're capable of becoming better, that you can achieve true growth and change. The way this message was executed, especially through a character that dies before the halfway point of the story, is something that I marvel at as an aspiring storyteller. DRDT's beating heart will always be its character writing, and this scene is one of the primary examples of that. Thank you, DT-Dev, for making Arei Nageishi and the rest of your amazing cast of characters. :D

Extra Thoughts !!! - FURUYA FANDOM (me) THE TRACK PLAYED LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO!!! - I am very excited to find out more about Nico's attempted murder given all of the questions surrounding it. If the method of murder really was replicated, and Nico wasn't the culprit themself, you guys should take a wild guess who that implicates. (this is probably obvious by this point, but I really don't believe in the theories that suggest that someone other than Nico was responsible for Ace's attempted demise, be it Hu or Ace himself. I feel like it doesn't line up with the current narrative direction that Nico seems to be going in, the physical evidence of them stealing the turpentine, and...I'm gonna be honest, I just don't like it lmao. I'm sure DT-Dev would do it well, but just as a premise I do not favor it. Nico's attempted murder + subsequent regret from it felt like such a big moment in the chapter's narrative in relation to the themes of All That Glitters and the cast revealing sides to themself that weren't as prevalent before, as well as the themes of change and moving on from the past littered all throughout the chapter. I think if Nico's attempted murder was responsible by anyone but Nico, it would just dampen the impact of their overall story for me. That's just me though.) - WE FINALLY GOT ANOTHER NONSTOP DEBATE LETS GO BOYS!!! Nonstop debates I MISSED you - "Hey why does Whit know so much about hangi--" Look. This man is so unbelievably suspicious in every single way that for the sake of my sanity, I'm just gonna assume DT-Dev chose a random character to give the hanging explanation. It is the only way I will survive this chapter - But hey, at least we got this

- As always, I adore the new sprites we got this episode, especially Ace's new ones. It's probably the first sprite of his that actually appears emotionally vulnerable when he's not bleeding profusely from the neck. And of course, I loved David's shit-eating grin towards Teruko, I hope he never changes. - Speaking of Teruko, us getting Tutor Teruko was lovely. She is perfect, she is a little bit of everything all of the time.

(x) Whit: If you're so inclined to complain, Sir Light Pollution, why don't you try and think of some good evidence? Charles: Light pollution? Whit: You know… Cuz he had stars, and now he doesn't, and light pollution makes stars disappear… or… or… something….. Charles: I am truly impressed…by how bad that was.

- I love these dorks so much. I can tell DT-Dev has a lot of fun writing them.

- Teronika Consent animation! I guess after Acevi's Soap Opera, DT-Dev decided to feed the yuri crowd as well. Love it when we get to see those little sprite animations, too.

Predictions for CH2-14 - The episode is 40 minutes long, the longest episode we have had so far. (40 minutes of DRDT content... I'm excited just thinking about it!) Because of that, I think I will just start with my biggest prediction: I think we're getting the culprit reveal this chapter. I don't think that just because of the length either. When you really look at it, we have basically used every piece of evidence at least once with the exception of three: - The conditions of the gym (which I assume will be discussed next) - The scuffs on the ground - The ball of starchy clothes All three of those pieces of evidence I think can definitely be cleared up in the span of 40 minutes, especially since full focus is now on the murder case. I don't necessarily think the trial will end in this episode, but I think we have at least one more trial episode to go before the post-trial + execution + ending of the chapter. - And as the culprit reveal is approaching, I have formulated a tier list of who I think is least - most likely to be Arei's culprit. I will provide my reasoning for each.

No. 17/16 - Xander Matthews + Min Jeung I mean, what it says on the tin. They're dead, and thus couldn't had committed the murder. No. 15/14 - MonoTV + Arei Nageishi There are explicit rules against them being the culprit. Rule 8 and Rule 11 in particular. No. 13 - Teruko Tawaki She is the protagonist. Didn't stop Kaede, but I highly doubt that's where DT-Dev is going. No. 12 - David Chiem Other than the previous five who I've all disqualified from being the culprit, David is probably the character I suspect the least. He has an alibi for the time of the murder, getting breakfast with J and Veronika, and thematically...well, he's basically being set up as the antagonist. I don't think we'll be rid of him this early lmao. No. 11 - Charles Cuevas Charles has a fear of blood and dead bodies, and though I wouldn't say that completely disqualifies him from becoming a culprit in the future, in a case like this with such a complicated mechanism like this where he'd have to be in very close proximity with the body at all times? I highly doubt it. He also has an alibi for the fish (He was with Whit). No. 10 - J Rosales J both has an alibi for the fish (Arturo following her around), and an alibi for the morning (getting breakfast with David and Veronika), and both of those alibis can be confirmed. I don't think she did this. No. 9 - Veronika Grebenshchikova I'll be honest, I really don't see Veronika committing a murder at all. She clearly wants to see this through to the end, and killing someone would come with the risk of her being executed, which I don't think she would see as a satisfying conclusion to her story. That, combined with the fact that she has an alibi for the fish (bothering Teruko) and an alibi for the murder (getting breakfast with David and J) makes me think she didn't do this. No. 8 - Nico Hakobyan You might think it's weird to place Nico this low on the overall tier-list despite them not having an alibi for the fishes, and their morning alibi being...somewhat flimsy but I'll get to that with Hu, but here's my logic. Nico was driven to attempt murder from very specific circumstances. That being, Ace's relentless bullying and abuse towards them. Nico has said before that they'd understand murder if the perpetrator didn't like the victim, and while I don't think they exactly liked Arei, I do not think they harbor the same animosity towards her as they did towards Ace. I truly believe that Nico would only ever resort to murder if they truly despised the person in question and saw no other solution. So that is why I feel comfortable placing Nico at eighth. No. 7 - Hu Jing Hu is also another character that I think some will be surprised to see so low, but I don't think this was her doing. She has an alibi for the fish (cleaning up with Eden), and though again her alibi in the morning is very flimsy (having tea with Nico in the morning,) I do believe she is telling the truth because if she was lying about her alibi, I think the brutally blunt Nico would call her out for it. I'm sorry, I just simply cannot imagine Nico letting that shit slide regardless of how many theories I read. Not to mention I can't really think of a motive for why she would kill Arei specifically when, if she really did want to kill someone, Ace is right there. No. 6 - Whit Young Whit is supremely fucking suspicious and a lot of his behavior in the trial is literal shenanigans, even more so given the fact that he doesn't have an alibi for the actual murder. But he does have an alibi for the fish (again, he was with Charles) which is the main sticking point of Whit!Culprit. His other sticking point is his lack of motive, both in terms of the secrets and Arei specifically. I don't know like- just look at this man, do you think he did this? /joke

No. 5 - Levi Fontana The number one suspect in the fandom for a while, and he's only at number five. He ultimately lacks an alibi for the morning, and his alibi for the fish was that he was doing his laundry... With no one else around. Shady as fuck. But I think given his principles discussed in this episode ("it is a good thing to make sure someone else doesn't die"), and the genuine desire to be helpful he has expressed throughout this trial, I think him being the culprit is unlikely. That's why I was adamant on him being an accomplice for a while because I still thought he had some role in the case, but oh well. No. 4 - Rose Lacroix I'll be honest, Rose is only this high because her alibi situation is worse than Whit's and Levi's combined. Both of her alibis are that she was sleeping in her room, which cannot be proven and can be very easily lied about. But other than that, I don't think she is the culprit. I think this case requires too many physical maneuvers for someone as lethargic as Rose to pull off successfully, and if she were the culprit I don't think she'd bring attention to the missing grippy tape at all. No. 3 - Arturo Giles Arturo does have an alibi for the fish (following J), but does not have an alibi for the morning. Unlike basically every other character here, something else that puts Arturo above them is that he was capable of overhearing Eden and Arei's conversation and forging the note. But there is also a discrepancy present that is also present with every character here, and that is the fact that Arturo did not witness Nico's attempted murder or the condition of Ace's body and the gym, so there was no way he could've replicated the murder method used for Ace on Arei. So though logistically he is a more likely possibility, I don't think it was him. No. 2 - Ace Markey Ace, to me anyway, is the second most likely candidate to being Arei's killer. He does not have an alibi for the fish and could've very easily grabbed them after David and Arei left the Relaxation Room, and he doesn't have an alibi for the morning either. He has a very clear motivation for taking a chance at killing someone, of "someone literally sliced my neck open not two days ago and I know I am not safe here I need to get the fuck out." If you choose to factor in strength, Ace is one of the strongest members of the cast and would be more than capable of the physical maneuvers made to kill Arei. Though I personally don't believe in this theory, if you think Ace attempted suicide instead of Nico trying to kill him, he has the murder method down lock too because he tried to commit it onto himself. He has been shown to be nosy, so it is not improbable that he listened in on Arei and Eden's conversation. And lastly, he is one of the only two suspects who was capable of stealing the grippy tape that was used in the murder. All of the evidence is practically stacked against him... But there are a couple of problems. One, if you believe that Nico did try to kill Ace, than the point about Ace knowing the exact method of death goes out the window. He was knocked out by the turpentine, and woke up in extreme pain in a blinding fury of rage and bloodlust, I don't think his surroundings would be the first thing on his mind. But a much bigger issue we have is the question of... Why would Ace take the tape? Following this theory, his murder plan wouldn't had started until the day after Nico's attempt on his life, it would make no sense for him to take the tape then. These two sticking points are why, though a likely candidate, I do not think Ace is the culprit. That award of main suspect goes to...

No. 1 - Eden Tobisa Yeah, if you've spent any time on this account you probably know I'm an Eden!Culprit truther. There are many well-written posts about this theory that I'm sure you've seen so I'll try to keep this short, but though the theory does have a few flaws to it, the big one being Eden's alibi for the fish that she was cleaning up with Hu, I think Eden being the culprit makes the most sense from an evidence, thematic, and motive standpoint. I know some people have dropped the theory upon the fork reveal, but DRDT is not unbeknownst to killing off characters with certain mysteries left unanswered. That is basically all for my predictions related to the culprit, but I still have some predictions for the overall episode. - Nico's gonna get placed in the hot-seat, obviously, which will definitely cause a reaction out of both Hu and Ace. And I honestly feel like the two of them are going to keep interrupting Nico until they eventually snap. And I hope that happens honestly because unless you count the "I'll kill you" line, we have yet to see or hear Nico when they're actually angry angry. Nico obviously doesn't like conflict, but they might have to get over that if they actually want to defend themself knowing the other two. - I'm still holding out hope we'll get a Random Guess segment lmao - And lastly: I need Whit to break the forth wall at least once I didn't put that on the bingo card for fucking NOTHING

Conclusion I'm gonna be completely honest, I do not have the energy to write anymore and I just want this out lmao. But overall, this was one of my favorite episodes in the whole series. I loved the Levi and Ace stuff, I like that we now have all the secrets, and like I said, the scene with Arei is probably one of my favorite scenes in the show. CH2-14 is going to be a wild ride I can already tell, and if we do find out who the killer is, you will see me screaming. Regardless of if it's Eden lmao.

UPDATED SWEAR STATISTICS CH2-13

UPDATED BINGO CARD

#finally....finally its done...haha...ITS FINALLY DONE!!! /ref #desperately hoping at least one of you gets where that's from #this took way longer than it needed to because I have been in a creativity rut this last week and it has been fucking my ass #that and there was so much to discuss with this episode compared to the last one #but its done. hopefully ch2-14 post wont take me too long #hopefully #danganronpa despair time #drdt

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