#the same relative that put me in this position is the one who's helping me on terms he has not specified :) haha im not scared at all

[puppyeared]

people who do STEM or administration as a career full time and continue to do art as a hobby, I am scared of you but like in a hot way. youre like if we were allowed to have cold drinks in winter. i look at you and think of miles morales with his two cakes. do you want to make out sometime

[schizononagesimus]

so clearly i arrived fine and the start to my "trip" is going great! now it's 2am and im feeling the gravity of my situation 😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄

[reidmotif]

I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people. 

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times. 

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries. 

Pay more attention, I guess. 

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own. 

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

 The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action.  Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that. 

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it.  Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms. 

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment).  When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet. 

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life? 

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life. 

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him. 

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry,  out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God. 

Like, come on. Give me anything here. 

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now. 

Now? 

Now… 

Silence. 

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late. 

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home. 

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and- 

He wasn’t alone. 

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me. 

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them. 

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night. 

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching. 

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl. 

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction. 

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck- 

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her  within one of the only blind spots within the apartment. 

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?! 

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him. 

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.  

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly. 

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university. 

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras,  quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable. 

I’m  in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of  The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that. 

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me. 

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?” 

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.”  His smile turns into more of a smirk. 

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him. 

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity. 

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him. 

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.” 

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.” 

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was. 

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.” 

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring. 

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room. 

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do? 

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure. 

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted. 

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?” 

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was. 

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.” 

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.” 

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh. 

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly. 

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed. 

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes. 

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want. 

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him. 

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze. 

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me. 

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name. 

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed. 

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?” 

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated. 

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.” 

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure. 

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me. 

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself? 

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss. 

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment. 

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically. 

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy. 

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence. 

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly. 

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to. 

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face. 

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily. 

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.  

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?” 

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

[sectumsempraaa]

Our Missing Piece

Pairing: they’re all in love w/ you 🤭 x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

TW: none! Fluff galore!

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy

Summary: As Hogwarts’s newest student, you generally keep to yourself, staying out of the spotlight. That is until you beat the famous Harry Potter in a classroom duel and win the hearts of a bunch of down-bad Slytherins, who jump at the chance to take you under their wing.

Please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me.

Professor Snape’s looming eyes scale the shaking students in front of him, deciding who he’ll choose to go next in your Defense Against the Dark Arts mock-wand battles. McGonagall has already made her choice, sending the famous Harry Potter walking proudly to the center, taking a wide stance.

You’ve managed to stay relatively out of the way since starting at Hogwarts, about a month ago. Since you stepped foot off the train, you decided to dedicate yourself to your studies, giving in to your introverted tendencies.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t long for friendship each time you spotted girls skipping in the hallway together, or when the Weasley crew bursts into laughter at lunch, or when you spot the Ravenclaws studying in the library.

Suddenly, your head of house’s voice penetrates the air, slicing through the anticipation like a swift dagger.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Snape announces, gesturing a finger to approach him.

Son of a bitch.

You look around, the color draining from your face as you observe every head turning to look at you. You make your way up to the raised platform, passed your professor, when an oddly gentle hand on your shoulder stops you short.

Snape kneels, lowering his voice to a mutter.

“Breathe. Forget his name. He is only a boy.”

You nod, swallowing your fear and taking your first steps toward Harry. You repeat the words in your head, closing your eyes momentarily and wiping the sweat from your palms.

He is only a boy.

“On your marks,” Professor Lupin instructs, the both of you lifting your wands to position. Harry nods to you in greeting, which you return with eyes like headlights. You try your best to ignore your racing pulse and quickened breath.

What the hell am I going to do?

A sly, boyish voice from the Slytherin crowd behind you catches your ear, a voice you can almost put a name to. The phrase ripples in your head, echoing until it becomes a solid thought.

“Careful of that one, Potter. She’s lethal.”

You grin to yourself, the remark helping to relax your shoulders and straighten your posture. And for the first time since arriving here, you feel a confidence that’s been waiting to unleash… you feel like a Slytherin.

She’s lethal.

In a split second, you choose a spell and devise the best handwork to perform it.

Yes, I bloody am.

Lupin conducts a countdown, and at the same time, you each send magic hurdling at each other. But you’re sharp, cunning, and quick. Maybe you’ve only been here a month, but you know enough to identify his weakness on the spot.

His softer, disarming expelliarmus meets your driving, aggressive bombarda, as a fantastic collision of colors explodes in the center of the platform. Students yell in reaction, stepping a few feet back.

The blast sends Harry straight down, rolling over a few times from the forceful impact. You had directed it specifically to hit at just the right moment, as not to cause injury.

After a second, you find yourself still on your feet, the smoke clearing slowly in the air. But the second your house spots Potter on the ground, a roar like hell erupts behind you. A small smile returns to your face, along with a glimmer in your gaze.

You bow, then stroll over to your opponent, respectfully offering to help him back on his feet. Your face contorts in confusion when he stands on his own, shaking you off.

“Good match, Potter! Nice to meet you.” You extend your hand, finding your soft, yet direct voice.

“Not shaking your hand if you belong to those filthy Slytherins,” he replies, a pang of hurt hitting your chest at the rejection. You’re lost on where you went wrong, all you did was follow instructions.

“She sure as hell does!”

Suddenly, a mass of rushed footsteps approaches you from behind, the boyish voices multiplying as they celebrate your victory.

“Told you to be careful, Potter.” Draco mocks, sending a wink his way. A boy you recognize as Mattheo speaks up next.

“The boy who lived- oh, sorry, I meant the boy who got leveled by a fourth year!” He snickers, taking a stance by your side. He looks to you, nudging your shoulder in encouragement with a gleam of pride in his eyes. His next words are just for you.

“Wicked job out there, darling.”

The closeness of his face to yours sends a shiver down your back, his charming smile luring you in. Harry interrupts, his tone annoyed.

“Run from this lot while you can, Y/N.”

“Paws off, Potter. This one’s ours.” Draco sneers, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close to his side. A blush develops on your face, remembering his sentiment from before your duel.

“That’s too bad, a smart girl like you wasting your time with a bunch of snakes.” He spits.

Theodore, the Italian transfer from Rome, pipes in with his two cents. He’s tall, and intimidating. His mere presence ushers other students out of the way.

“I’d tell you to eat shit, Harry, but you already did.” The diss earns an uproarious laugh from the group. Pansy stands behind you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” she says to Harry in her sing-song way. “Not every legend has a prophecy, mate.” She squeezes your arm, giggling to you and herself.

And to that, he storms away, his Gryffindor friends following after. You turn to the group, unable to produce words after their glowing display of support. They each take their turn giving you hugs and chanting your name, Pansy opting to play with your hair.

“I think you’re our missing piece.” Mattheo proclaims. “We sort of need someone who-”

“Can save our arses?” Theo finishes the thought. “She’s way bloody better at magic than we are.”

“I believe he’s referring to the several… ahem, situations, we get ourselves into… at times.” Draco says hesitantly, his gaze drinking in your every feature, admiring his newest recruit.

For the first time, you find yourself surrounded by people who like you. Who admire you, want you for themselves. They’re actually excited, thrilled even, to make you one of their own. You couldn’t have imagined it unfolding like this, but you’re damn glad it did.

“Should’ve known she was the one when Draco was nearly drooling over her in Potions class…” Pansy interjects. Draco’s face goes wildly pink, unable to hide his bashfulness behind his pale complexion.

“What else can you do, new girl?” Theo inquires, his demeanor mysterious and intriguing.

“In che senso?” You respond, using the very little Italian you picked up on your last summer trip. His face lights up, a wave of sheer attraction and awe written all over it.

He clasps your hand, holding it like a damn trophy. “I think I’ll marry you someday.” He confesses.

Mattheo pushes him away from you in order to regain your attention by offering to carry your books to the next class.

“Allow me, love.” Mattheo says as the boys continue to shove and trip over each other to engage with you.

You nod, shooting a puzzled look at Pansy while the boys gather your things and start to lead the group out. She pulls you aside, linking arms with you, the Slytherin champion.

“They’ve all been pining since they first laid eyes on you, you bloody bombshell.” She jokes, revealing the boy’s truth.

“But then you beat Potter, and well… that sealed the deal. I’ve never seen heart-eyes like that from any of them, let alone all of them.”

You catch Draco staring longingly at the two of you, quickly glancing elsewhere to play off his obvious infatuation with you. You smile and wave to him, biting your lip as he nods your way.

Pansy leaves you with one last thought before you all head to Potions, gesturing her head towards Draco.

“They’re all quite competitive. But that one… that one will end the world for you, Y/N.”

Lethal, you think to yourself.

Because he’s lethal, too.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Taglist: @viperify @chelawrites @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @redeemingvillains @clar2aa

[risuola]

ENTRY #3 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // In the oceans so full, all I crave is blue.

contents: arranged marriage!au, slight misogyny — wc. 938

a/n: you voted, I deliver - an entry that might seem slightly out of place, slightly not relevant but it's important to the story, it shows the slow development.

series masterlist

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You sat on an armchair, somewhat tensed despite the comfort of your own home and the soft cushions below you. In front of you sat a man. An arrogant grin plastered onto his objectively handsome features that somehow made you cringe at the sight. His mouth moved, he was speaking, over and over again telling the same story from a different angle and throwing facts at you that didn’t quite make sense, no matter how many times they were replayed.

“It’s an offer,” he spoke again, his pearly white, perfectly straight teeth glimmered in the sharp sunlight that bounced off the glass in the frame containing your wedding picture. “There’s a prestige tied to it, a status much more influential than your current last name could ever provide. I understand Gojo Satoru’s high position in the world of sorcery, but realistically, it doesn’t benefit you the way it should.”

He was talking, confident and loud but you couldn’t help but find him slightly sociopathic. Severely narcissistic. His sharp brown eyes were piercing through you and you could tell that every spasm of his muscles was forced, creating a fake illusion of some twisted version of kindness and gentleness. He moved in a way to appear more approachable, more inviting. You were taking in his form, clad in traditional kimono and hakama bottoms, oddly contrasting with his bleached hair and pierced ears. Thing is, there was nothing inviting about him.

“My marriage is an arrangement made with the thought of the best interest for both mine and my husband’s clan.” Your words flew out of your mouth a little too rough and yet, it was the first time you put a heavy accent onto the word that described who Satoru was to you right now.

“Of course it was,” the man chuckled. Evil. “But you see, Satoru Gojo is an anomaly born for the first time in four hundred years. Probability of you bearing a child that would bring value to his, arguably extinct, clan is relatively low, if not zero. On the other hand, my technique is easily passed down in blood and strong as it is, even without considering the possible Ten Shadows awakening though I believe that the input of your cursed technique makes the chances that much higher.”

“Forgive me my bluntness, Zen’in, but my marriage is finalized and I don’t intend to–“

“You don’t understand, woman,” he snapped, harsh and rough and raised up to his feet a little too eagerly. Realizing that, he took a breath and walked towards the wooden dresser. His greedy hands snatched the picture framed in the constellation of intricate veins and leaves carved into the dark oak and his fingers run across the glass front. “There’s nothing better you can do, than marrying me, one and only rightful heir of the Zen’in clan. Me, Naoya Zen’in, a man above all those weaklings around. I’m a prodigy, a genius. I’m the stronges–“

“I dare to disagree,” you cut the reckless spurt of nonsense leaving his lips. “I do recognize your strength and the values you represent, but as I already told you. My marriage is finalized, I’m married to Satoru Gojo and, with all due respect, you’re not close to being the strongest.” You stood your ground, firmly and with confidence and as you approached the man, you gently took the picture from his hands. “And also, even if I were not tied to Satoru, I wouldn’t allow myself to ever cross paths with a buffoon such as you, Naoya.”

“Clearly, you don’t know your place, do you?” He groaned, lowly and animalistically and it was a split second before his long fingers dug into the fat of your cheeks as he grabbed you by the face. “You know where’s a place of a woman? Three steps behind her husband. On her knees, ready to serve. There’s no other purpose for you than to–“

“I’ll advise you to take your hands off my wife, Zen’in.” Another second and your husband was home, right next to you, appearing out of thin air. His large hand wrapped tightly around Naoya’s forearm and their eyes meeting in a challenge. Despite the ice-cold tension in the air, Gojo’s face was neutral, amused almost. The corner of his lips twitched, lifting up just slightly as his unwavering gaze slowly pierced a crack into the arrogant mask of the guest.

“We’re just talking,” he hissed through his teeth but allowed his fingers to relax, releasing your jaw.

“Actually, it seemed as if you were leaving already,” you added calmly and it didn’t take longer than two minutes until the doors closed and the blonde left, mumbling insults under his breath. You exhaled, deeply, allowing the tension to leave your body as you twisted the locks and it’s just at that moment when you realized how much relief and sense of safety your husband brought.

“Care to explain why was Naoya Zen’in in our house when I was out? I don’t remember that visit being scheduled.” Satoru questioned and you let out a sigh, approaching him. With gentle hands you reached up to where the blindfold hung loosely around his neck and carefully pulled it up to cover the blue of his eyes.

“I’d love to know more than you do, but I don’t,” you replied. “He came uninvited, offered me marriage and didn’t take rejection too well.”

“Offered you marriage?” He scoffed. “The audacity.”

“Doesn’t matter. I said no and he left. Thank you for showing up.”

“I’m fulfilling my duties. That’s all.”

“Of course, you are.”

taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost

[w4w4lycsss]

Hello, could I place an order for Morgie x reader.

Where Morgie is in love with Bridget's younger sister and always tries to win her over in different ways without Uliana finding out, where Red and Chloe also try to help Morgie win over the reader since her future is terrible in the future also trying to change her future to be with morgie.

TRYING TO IMPRESS | MORGIE LE FAY

summary: Morgie tries to impress you several times but he is completely clumsy and does not always succeed until Red and Chloe help him a little pairing: Morgie Le Fay x gn!Bridget's sibling!reader inspired by:: Love is Embarrassing - Olivia Rodrigo a/n: I'm in love with the idea! and I thought it would be better to do gn!reader, I hope you don't mind! :)

At Merlin Academy everyone truly admired you, and by admire I mean they absolutely loved you. You had a wide range of intelligence and respect, you were kind and hardworking, so you weren't surprised to have admirers. But there was one in particular…

Your sister didn't get along with the VKs, not on her part, but because they particularly bothered her for being a good person. You created a grudge against them, and you are not like her, you are more firm and realistic, not so positive, if you could slap Uliana you would.

Unfortunately (for you) you had shot the heart of one of the villains, the son of Morgana Le Fay.

You'd had almost no interaction with him, perhaps the only exceptions had been when you teamed up in a potions class (perhaps the only class he'd ever attended) relatively long ago.

You didn't remember anything about that class, but if you asked him he would say that it was the best moment of his life. Their hands touched each other when they took some ingredient at the same time, their gazes were stealthy and your calm voice telling them what to do left me spinning in my head. That day he decided that he was going to fall in love with you.

You already knew that Morgie was interested in you, and you were tired. Every day was constantly rejecting his invitations to run away from class together, watching him do some spell near you or how he would try to flirt.

It is clear that it is a disaster.

But it didn't bother you, yes, I already said that you were tired, but it was cute to see how he approached Maleficent and Hades to ask for advice and approach you with confidence only so that when he heard your sweet voice he melted right there and couldn't do anything. nothing.

Maybe it was also your fault that the flirting continued, and you never firmly put him in his place, you spoke to him calmly and patiently, which only made him fall in love more.

Did I say you had a grudge against VKs? It's not a lie but maybe it was too direct, because you treat Morgie with patience but there were some days where you couldn't stand him, maybe because something had happened in class or it was just a bad hair day, you swore that if you saw him one more time You were going to go crazy.

You sat under a tree after running with Bridget trying to save her from Uliana, who was chasing her furiously after turning into a flamingo. As you closed your eyes and regulated your breathing, you felt the presence of someone near you.

“Hello, cutie.” Morgie smiled at you. "How are you? You got tired?"

“Hello, Le Fay.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Yes, I am, didn’t you run?” You responded with a tired sigh.

“No, I didn't have to run, I just saw you.”

“Were you looking at me from a distance?” You let out a small laugh.

Morgie's flirting got out of hand when he realized you weren't responding defensively. His face flushes bright red and he begins to stutter, not knowing where to take the conversation. You notice this, obviously.

“Y-yes, I mean, not like that. It sounds weird, I wasn't just looking at you! “I saw all the people running, of course.”

You let out a small laugh. “I have to look for Bridget, see you.” You said goodbye casually, starting to walk back to school.

Morgie let out a loving squeal and then let out a tired sigh as he followed you with his eyes until you were lost in the crowd. He looked at the ground and put his hands in his pockets while mumbling things like “fool…” to himself and staggered on his feet.

“Morgie!”

The aforementioned raised his head quickly when he heard his name with the small illusion in his chest that you were the owner of the voice. He made a sound of protest when he realized that it was Chloe who was calling him, walking towards him alongside Red.

“Is something wrong, princess?” He scoffed irritably.

“Yes, in fact it would suit you quite a bit.” Red mentioned.

He rolled his eyes, ready to turn around and leave them when Chloe spoke again.

“We know you like Y/N.”

He frowned in confusion and irritation. "What's with that?"

“We can help you conquer them.” The redhead spoke again.

“And what would you gain in return?” He crossed his arms, not very convinced.

Chloe and Red looked at each other. Where they came from, your future had not been very good when you were alone, you were in danger in many ways, but they couldn't tell anyone.

Red's eyes lit up at a possible idea.

“If we get you to go out with Y/N, you'll stop bothering Bridget.”

He almost laughed but frowned wryly. “Why do you care if I bother the miss positivity or not?"

“Because she's our friend, and Y/N's sister. Do you accept or not?"

Morgie stayed silent, genuinely thinking. He was too in love, he had done ridiculous and embarrassing things for love to give up now that he was given the opportunity on a silver platter. He let out a resigned sigh.

"Good! I hope you have a plan or miss pink is going to pay dearly.” He frowned.

Someone knocked on your door, without much hesitation you opened, thinking it was Bidget. When you opened it, you found Morgie standing in front of you with a flushed face and an embarrassed smile.

"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" He spoke quickly before you could ask him what he was doing.

"I'm going to think about it-"

"Wait, don't close! I only ask you to go with me, we don't need to be a couple or anything, if you accept I will stop harassing you."

You stopped when you were about to close the door on him. "Harass me? Don't harass me." You frowned in confusion. "You're just very intense. Look, I'm going to think about it, give me until tomorrow, yes?"

Morgie smiled excitedly, letting out an "yes..." with a sigh in love as you closed the door. He ran to where he knew the rest of VK (without Uliana) were to tell them the news as soon as possible. Since Bridget was your sister, it was almost impossible for Uliana to accept you if you were to date Morgie and it would practically make your life impossible.

In Morgie's eyes, you were "so different from your sister that it made you unique, and that Uliana would never understand."

Halfway through, he met Red and Chloe, who began to ask him about the answer you had given him.

"Didn't you insist on them more?"

"No, they're going to get fed up with me and say no."

"Wow, it sounds like it's already happened."

"How about a gift in the name of a secret admirer?" Red suggested. "But at the same time Y/N knows it's about you."

"And what do you expect me to give him?" He frowned in confusion.

"How about cupcakes! Or something made by you." Chloe suggested now with a smile.

Morgie clicked his tongue and frowned in a grimace at the knowledge of what he would have to do. Yes, he did indeed cook you something to eat. In the evening, at dinnertime, instead of going downstairs like the rest, he sneaked into your room and quickly left a basket of pink and green cupcakes on your bed, with a note next.

"See you at the fountain tomorrow? (to know your answer) - M. Le Fay."

[rafesgoldrings]

One Hell of a Night

Warnings: smut, oral (m + f receiving), Topper and Kelce jerk each other off, drug usage, two in one hole, language, brief mention of choking and face slapping, teensy bit of degradation, foursome, slight groping from the boys, Rafe does a line off the readers tits because it’s me, this is literally just pure filth

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem Kook!Reader, Topper Thornton x Fem Kook!Reader, Kelce x Fem Kook!Reader, slight Kelce x Topper

Summary: It’s strictly platonic between you and the three kook boys to anyone else, but when you’re alone it’s a totally different answer. A daunting game of cat and mouse lands you in an interesting position one Friday night.

If anyone asked you, the friendship between you and the three kook boys that dominated the island was strictly platonic. There was absolutely nothing else there, not when you took turns sucking their cock. Not when they were knuckle deep in your cunt. Not when their cum was coating every inch of you. Just a couple of friends helping friends to relax. But to you four? There was something there, pure animalistic desire to tear each other apart. Each one of you playing a daunting game of cat and mouse.

You’d wear the shortest golf skirt you owned when you went to play with them. They would wear the tightest shirts they owned, flexing their well defined muscles every chance they got. Your freshly painted nails would slowly trail up one of the boy's thighs, dangerously close to his cock, another boy's hand would disappear into your skirt, and the final boy would have his hand ‘innocently’ around your shoulder groping your tits. Each one of you eager to see who broke first, to see who gave into their desire.

It was usually always you. One look at their cocky smirks as their fingers danced a well choreographed dance inside your cunt and you were done for. You’d always ended up pleading for them to just stop the teasing and have their way with you. That exact same scenario is how you ended up in your current situation.

Rafe invited the three of you to his place to hang Friday night. Wheezie was at her friends house for the weekend, Sarah was out with those grimy pogues, Ward and Rose away for some business thing, which left the house all to himself. He’d told you he managed to secure a gram of coke from Barry and some alcohol, all you needed to do was bring your pretty ass over there with Topper and Kelce. Knowing it would just be the four of you, you put on a tiny skirt and crop top that was perfectly cut to show off your tits. The Cartier bracelet Rafe bought you, Chanel necklace Topper bought you, and Hermès ring Kelce bought you proudly on display. You’d put on the perfume you knew drove them crazy, sliding on your sandals and getting in your Jeep to head over to them.

You should have known it was a Trap, as soon as you walked in you should have known. None of the boys had their shirts on, passing around a half smoked joint and legs spread. Their hungry eyes staring you down the second you walked in the door like they were predators and you were the helpless prey. They paid extra close attention to your tits that were practically uncovered by the small piece of fabric you called a shirt, their adam’s apple bobbing as they swallowed harshly.

“Why don’t you come sit princess” it wasn’t a question, Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap, discarding the joint and smirking at the squeal you let out from the sudden collision.

He already had lines laid out on the table and passed you a rolled up hundred dollar bill insisting you go first. The small skirt (and no panties) left little to the imagination as you bent down to the table, Rafe jerking his thigh up and hitting your cunt in the perfect way. You swallowed the whimper that threatened to escape your lips, covering one nostril before placing the bill inside the other and snorting a single white line off the table relatively quickly.

“Woah pretty girl, you’re so desperate tonight” Topper cooed, his eyes full of lust and mischief as the other two let out a small laugh.

“Awe come on guys, sweet girl just wants to make sure we don’t take it all before she gets her high. Isn’t that right baby?” Kelces hand rubbing your knee and the small amount of coke in your system made it hard to get out a complete sentence.

“Y-yeah, you guys always take it” you pouted, bending back down and doing two more lines before Rafe plucked the bill from your hands.

“That’s enough now.” he never let you overindulge like they did. He knew exactly what it did to you and while letting you snort any of the blow was bad, he’d rather you do smaller amounts with them.

A small hmph escaped your lips, arms crossed as you leaned back against Rafe’s chest. They could do all the coke in the world but you do three lines and it was the crime of the fucking century. You felt large fingertips grip your jaw firmly and turn your head towards them, Rafe’s blue eyes darkened as he spoke to you.

“Lose the fucking attitude and be grateful I allow you any princess. Don’t make me bend you over the table and slap your ass until it’s black and blue to teach you manners.” you knew he meant it. He’d done it once before when you wouldn’t stop bitching about everything one night, your widened eyes never left his as you nodded.

He whispered ‘good girl’ and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he smirked, glancing at the table and your tits.

“Take your top off” the others quickly joined in agreement.

So, slowly, you began peeling it off. It’s not like they hadn’t seen your tits before, half the time you didn’t bother wearing a bra and changed in front of them because they’d touched and marked them plenty of times in the past. Topper passed the bag to Rafe who then instructed Kelce to push your tits together. You felt him press against your back, arms wrapping around your front and pushing your tits together with his hands, before Rafe poured some of the white powder between them. He covered one nostril and snorted it all away, lightly licking them to ‘get the rest’ off.

By this time, the drugs had kicked in. Your eyes holding a glazed over look, pupils dilated, cunt throbbing as you watched them. You began grinding into the couch, desperate for something, whining loudly and attracting all three boys' attention to you. Each one stared at the wet spot you’d made, eyes matching yours but with a bit more lust swimming around. Giving each other a knowing look, they listened as you begged for them to touch you. To use you as they pleased and make you cum

“Fuck princess, okay”

“That’s our good girl”

“So fucking pretty when you beg baby, we’ll take such good care of you”

Rafe had your legs spread apart, hands grabbing your tits and pulling at your nipples while Topper fucked your face. Kelce had his cock buried inside you, fucking you so hard that you swear your cervix was actually bruised. You couldn’t think clearly, eyes rolling back from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were currently experiencing from both your high and being used this way, a harsh slap to your inner thigh bringing you back to reality. Your eyes were full of tears from the combination of your favorite boys using you like their personal toy, Topper was all the way in the back of your throat using it like it was nothing but a hole made to take his cock.

You knew they were both close, they went harder, each thrust more sloppy than the previous. Their moans getting louder and more broken until they couldn’t form words, only cries of your name. Their thick seed filled both of your holes at the same time and you swore you died right then and there. You could feel your cunt get stuffed full and loved it more than anything, especially knowing it was from one of your favorite boys. Rafe’s cock was pressed against your back, rock hard, leaking precum, and desperate for the same attention the others just got.

The two of them would pull out, each one with a proud look on their face when you whimpered at the sudden empty feeling and swallowed Topper's load, giving Rafe the opportunity to move in front of you. Groaning at the sight of your hole leaking out the mixture of yours and Kelce’s cum, he slowly bent down till he was eye level with your cunt. His lips quickly attached to your clit and then your tight hole. Moaning against you at the taste of his best friend's release with yours mixing together on his tongue. Your hands flew to his hair and held it with a tight grip, legs trembling from the previous orgasm you just had.

“D-don’t stop. P-lease” it came out broken, sounding pathetic enough for the two boys to laugh and mockingly frown at you.

You snapped your head in their direction and rolled your head back, eyes screwed shut and toes curling when you saw them stroking the other's cock. It was all too much for you, Rafe’s tongue working its magic on your abused cunt, the other two pleasuring each other while they watched you fall apart yet again. You swear to god Rafe was tracing his name against your cunt when you finally came. That rubber band in your belly finally snapping as you grinded into Rafe’s face, riding out your orgasm to the best of your ability in your drug altered state.

“Such a goood fucking girl baby. Oh my god” Rafe moaned out when he finally detached his mouth from your cunt, licking his lips clean and groaning at your taste.

“Taste so fucking good baby” he pulled you into a rough kiss, hand wrapped around your throat, allowing you to taste yourself on your tongue.

Your head moved up when he went to pull away from the kiss, lips still attached to his until he pushed you back against the bed. Topper and Kelce had managed to get each other off at some point during your orgasm and the thick white ropes covered their abs. They’d both walked to join Rafe in front of you before speaking up.

“Since Kelce got to fuck that pretty cunt of yours baby, Rafe and I want to try something while Kelce fucks your mouth”

“Do you trust us baby?” Even while high, they each made sure you were okay with whatever they were doing.

“Of course” your voice came out small, too fucked out, high, and tired to speak much louder.

“Okay baby. You’re going to take Rafe and I inside that tight cunt of yours…at the same time. You think you can handle us both baby?” that certainly woke you up, eyes shooting open as wide as they could go and sitting up on your elbows.

You looked between each boy, trying to see if they were serious. When there was no indication that they weren’t, pure desperation on Rafe and Toppers faces, you nodded your head.

“Fucking hell princess, you’re so perfect.”

“If it’s too much, you tell us okay?” they both spoke at the same time, you again nodded at them.

They flipped you to your stomach before pulling you up, wanting you on all fours. Once you were in position, Kelce walked over and slid his cock in your mouth. Rafe slid his cock inside you, groaning at how tight you were and the way your cunt clenched around him reactively. He thrusted into you a few more times before making sure you were okay with this. Once you gave him a thumbs up, mouth too full of cock to answer verbally, Topper joined him. He slid his cock in, letting out a loud groan at the feeling of your tight hole and his cock rubbing against Rafe’s inside you, slowly until it was all the way in. You were so lost in pleasure, moaning non stop around Kelce's cock, that you forgot to suck him off. He slapped your cheek to bring your attention to him “Just because you’re taking two cocks inside your cunt at once like a little whore doesn’t mean you stop paying attention to me. Now fucking suck princess, make me proud”

You bobbed your head up and down, trying your best to keep your attention on him while Rafe and Topper fucked into you at the same time. The room full of pornographic sounds, just moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls.

“I hope you know baby, we aren’t done with you. We’re going to ruin you to the point you’re just a drooling, babbling, trembling cock hungry whore. This is just the beginning” Rafe moaned into your ear, gripping your hair and pulling you up to his lips.

This was going to be one hell of a night.

Tag List: @sweetestdesire @cherryniceties @dreamingwithrafe @congratsloserr @fulla02reads @madelynie @xyzstar (I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be tagged since this includes Kelce so just let me know!) @outerbankspov

[starry-bi-sky]

I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.

Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.

Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.

Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.

Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.

I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.

[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]

Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.

But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.

I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.

Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.

But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.

Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.

Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.

.

Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.

However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.

So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)

If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.

(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)

Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.

.

Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.

(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)

So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.

But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.

Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.

He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.

Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.

Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."

He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.

He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.

Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.

Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.

"Have you been spying on me?"

Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"

His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."

A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".

Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.

"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."

"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."

"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."

"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"

"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)

"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."

Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.

I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.

"I know you do not like me."

"You're right; I don't."

"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."

"...That's correct."

"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."

"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"

"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"

In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."

The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.

(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)

After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.

Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.

The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.

Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.

My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.

So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.

Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.

But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.

Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"

Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.

.

Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]

[musicalmoritz]

Good Femslash Fics Already Exist

With the whole push for more femslash in fandoms, I’ve never understood the amount of hate I see femslash “fans” direct towards existing creations. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more variety, I do too, but every time someone brings up the fact that femslash fan fictions are already being written someone opens their mouth to say “yeah but those suck.” And then they proceed to read 300+ atrociously mischaracterized mlm fics. They complain abt plotless fluff and then read the exact same pwp scenarios over and over again

And hey, if you don’t want to read femslash that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend it interests you. I’m someone who actively looks for femslash and my only problem has been a lack of content in smaller/male-dominated fandoms, the fics themselves are cute af. Ya’ll are missing out on some real masterpieces by labeling all existing femslash fics as “boring,” some of my favorite fics ever are femslash. If an mlm ship invades the tags just filter it out, filter out every mlm pairing in the fandom if you have to. AO3 gives us that option for a reason

I’m not saying we don’t need more variety, but we’re not going to get that by shitting on writers who actively put in the work to make more femslash. When I started writing femslash consistently it was very discouraging because I’d seen soooooo many people online saying they want more femslash fics, yet nobody was reading mine. Then I looked at the stats on other femslash fics and they were the same, really great fics were barely getting any hits or kudos. It kinda sucks knowing that an mlm fic I wrote in 3 hours got more kudos than a wlw fic I spent months on (for pairings of relatively equal popularity). This seems to be the biggest roadblock for people wanting to write femslash, no one supports it. Even tho fandoms claim they would support it, they never do. It’s something I’ve learned to stop caring about but not every writer is gonna push through

This brings me back to a comment I saw about “boring, hair-braidy wlw fics.” That description really stood out to me, and to this day it makes me feel a little self-conscious about my old femslash fics that were “boring” and “hair-braidy.” But then I came across a fic for this one pairing that had actual hair-braiding. It was incredibly well-written and meaningful, exploring how both characters struggled to ask for help but they were able to recognize each other’s dilemmas and help in subtle ways. They did this, of course, by fixing each other’s hair when they both felt helpless to do anything with it. Such a simple way to express a very deep bond. This made me reassess the way people talk about femslash fics, and the way I’d been thinking of them myself. Is fluff really that much of a crime?? Do all cottagecore-type fics really have no substance?? Do femslash fics have to copy exactly what slash fics are doing, or are they allowed to have their own tropes??

My attitude towards the overload of plotless fluff wlw fics is “this is a good starting point.” We need more people writing femslash, more variety in what is written, but that doesn’t mean what we have is bad. I critique wlw fic tropes a lot but I always give the disclaimer that I actually love the fics themselves, I just want to see more of a different thing. And I comment on every femslash fic I read (every fic I read in general but especially femslash), I try to leave something thoughtful to let the writer know I appreciate the effort they put into their work. You’d be surprised how many writers said they were encouraged to update a fic or write more femslash because of a positive comment I left them. Engaging with fics will give you more of a good thing. It has so much more influence than that video you’re about to make talking about how there’s no good femslash fics. When you say things like that it actually discourages people from writing, and makes them feel bad about things they’ve already written. Support femslash writers guys, it’s sexy

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Why the fight for queer rights isn't over (it should be obvious, but to some people it isn't)

TW: transphobia and homophobia

Hi, Tumblr, this is Asmi. If you know me, it's probably as the Good Omens Mascot, which is flattering. I've found so much love and queer positivity in the good omens fandom, and the beautiful thing is how it's canon. Many people outside the queer community don't realise how crucial media and communities like this are. Right now since I'm on break from education, I'm on tumblr for most of the time I'm awake (which is not a lot, I nap more than Crowley). It's wild how different it is from the real world, that I live in at least.

I'm sure a lot of you might have had a similar experience to this: Basically, two people in my life, my bio father and my ex, both told me to my face that queer people needed to stop calling themselves oppressed and how now it's queer people who hold all the power and are oppressing other people. With all due respect, what the fuck.

I live in India, and being a trans guy who is bi and aspec, it's a cesspit. While I'm gendered correctly on Tumblr, and people are so loving and supportive, in real life even my friends who say they support me misgender me 90% of the time. Same with my family. In my previous college which I had to leave because of bullying by both the students and admin, even the queer students would misgender me (I told them I used they/them pronouns, because he/him would have been too unsafe, but even that they didn't manage). In the college I'll join next, it won't be safe for me to be out at all, at risk of losing opportunities and safety. Gay marriage is still illegal. Homophobia and transphobia is the norm. This doesn't even cover all the daily indignities like queerphobic jokes, casual discourse on whether or not we deserve rights, etc. Discrimination against aroace-spec people is rampant even within the queer community, worldwide.

And I live in an urban area, one of the largest cities in India known for its progressiveness and for being relatively safe for queer people. I am privileged compared to other queer people here. The story in other cities, in rural areas which make up most of the country, is far more horrifying. I'm unqualified to speak about anything other than my own experience, but if you can (if you are in a stable and calm enough mental state to handle the information, please put your mental health first) I'm sure there are first person accounts on the many forums.

The fight for equality is not over. It doesn't end with laws riddled with loopholes, it doesn't end even with laws that genuinely help the queer community. Aside from the huge problems of living safely and with access to equal opportunities and resources for people, we deserve dignity, peace, and the right to feel accepted and that we're not an abnormality. And so much more.

I haven't said anything that hasn't been said before, but it can't be said enough. To the queer people reading this, take all my love. We need to stand together, eliminate discourse over who is queer enough to be queer, and be the safe space that the world will not provide for us.

It's not over, and it hasn't been won by a long shot, but what matters is that we're fighting. Even existing as ourselves in a world that tells us it is a crime, is defiance and a step towards making this right.

[gugapuppy]

Abortion - Part 4 (A!Ghost x O!Soap)

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

═══════════════════════════

In today chapter we have, Angst and a little bit of Hurt no confort.

CW: Implied abortion

═══════════════════════════

The thud of Soap's feet against the marble floor echoed through the corridors of the clinic, one of his hands tightly squeezing his thigh and the other squeezing Gaz's hand. The two of them had been waiting for about fifteen minutes, and Soap was afraid that if he waited any longer, breakfast would spill out of his mouth.

Finally, after two minutes, a nurse called out to them, she was similar to Gaz, only with longer hair and a little shorter, she had a sweet smile, and as Soap imagined, Gaz introduced her as his sister, he spoke her name but Soap couldn't pay attention as he was immersed in his nervous thoughts.

However, a sweet scent of grape and dahlia gradually calmed him down, and soon Soap realised that it was Gaz's sister. An omega just like him. She gave him a smile and then went on her way, leading him into the consulting room while Gaz waited outside.

After sitting down in one of the room's cool leather chairs, he looked directly at Gaz's sister, who sat opposite him behind a desk full of papers, pens and a laptop. After opening something on the laptop, she turned to Soap and then asked. "Very well, Mr Mactavish, could you tell me your reasons for seeking my assistance?"

With a deep breath, Soap clasps his hands together and begins to explain. "In my last heat, I shared with my... partner, and I don't remember us using a condom. After a couple of weeks I started to feel sick, but when I noticed some of my symptoms I decided to take my doubts into my own hands, I took three pregnancy tests and they were all positive."

"Hm, I see, and your partner, how did he react to the news?" She made a face as if she already knew the outcome of the question.

Soap swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at the doctor. "He... didn't react well after I told him, he pushed me aside and has been ignoring me and running away from me, and I," he chokes and sobs, remembering the little growls every time he got close to Ghost. "I can't take it anymore."

The doctor looks at him expectantly and sadly. "He said this child wasn't his, and to go back to the guy I slept with behind his back, but I never cheated on him! I love him, and I'm not a cheater! But he wouldn't listen to me!" He sobs harder, fingers trembling and tingling.

She writes something down on her laptop for a moment, letting Soap compose himself before continuing. "I understand how you must be feeling, and I'm sorry about that, I imagine you'd never cheat on him, my little brother says how devoted you are. Really admirable. But why did you decide to come and try to carry out this operation?"

Soap puts his hand over his eyes, squeezing them with his palm, then lowers them to his mouth. "I don't want... this child to grow up in a home where there's only me, my mum went through that with me and I know how hard it was for her to raise a child on her own."

He remembers the nights his mum came home tired and collapsed on the sofa, how as a teenager Soap did everything for her at home to take a burden off her back, hearing her cry and beg relatives to lend her money when the bills got high.

The way she held him back when Soap presented himself as Omega, worrying that he would go through the same thing as her. And damn, she was right about that.

"And besides, I don't want to retire from the army just yet, I don't have any other qualifications to work outside the army, nor one... someone to help with everything." Soap leans back in his chair, sniffling and crossing his arms, trying to hold himself together even though he's slowly falling apart.

"Right, your motives are understandable, thank you for your candour." She searches through the papers on the table until she finds one in particular. "Now, I'm going to need you to listen carefully" She read a few lines before continuing. "There are some post-operative risks that could affect you in the future."

This made Soap's heart squeeze and his hand grip tighter against his shoulder. "Like what, Doc?" Soap asked, breathing shakily.

"Omegas that have an abortion tend to have their fertility lowered by 55%, meaning that you'd have problems getting pregnant in the future, your heats would be unbalanced and you wouldn't have a proper cycle, and since you're not mated to anyone, your glands would be affected, causing your scent to fail."

This could affect Soap greatly if he decides to have a baby in the future, but not removing this... 'thing' will make him connect with Simon forever. Is it worth going through that pain?

After two minutes of silence, Soap finds his voice again. "What are the methods for the operation?"

The doctor doesn't comment at all on the subject of the risks that Soap has ignored or on the smell of stress in the room. "There are two methods, one medical and one surgical. The medical one, we provide pills so that the abortion happens naturally in a few hours, and we also have the surgical one, in which you would be sedated while we surgically remove the foetus."

"By any chance... in the surgical method I would be unconscious while you...?"

The doctor nods. "Usually that's what we do, often the process can be traumatic with the pill." She turns to her laptop and types something in. "We can do an ultrasound to see how many weeks pregnant you are, in case that relieves anything."

Unconsciously Soap nods, he wants to get a glimpse of what his family might have been like.

After they left the room, Soap spotted Gaz waiting outside and asked him to accompany him while he did the ultrasound.

After the machine was set up and the gel applied, the doctor began to search, and in a few minutes Soap finally saw his little pup on the screen, as small as an apple, his hand squeezing Gaz's tightly, making the man tremble, but hold on tightly, showing that he was there for Soap.

Seven weeks. Seven weeks is how long Soap had been connected to this little thing, four of which he had practically been left to fend for himself by the person he loved more than life itself.

In Soap's mind, he begged and pleaded for forgiveness for his little boy who would never see the light of the sun or the blue of the sky, forgiveness for the love Soap couldn't give him, for his shitty father who abandoned him. 

Soap didn't realise when Gaz started hugging him as he shook hard and tears flowed out, choking on sobs and snot, staining his best friend's shoulder.

At the end of the day, Soap left with a signed form and an appointment for the operation.

═══════════════════════════

I've had to do a lot of research on the subject in order to maintain coherence, I'm not a doctor, so if I've made a mistake feel free to correct me.

One more thing, in situations like these, the doctor who is treating you will recommend a professional psychologist to help you before any decision is made, if the patient wishes. You can also withdraw from the operation if you want to, even if you've signed the papers.

Stay safe, and wait for the next part, which will be about Ghost.

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 16 Dissection

Wow. Just wow. What a way to end off the chapter. (/pos)

I wasn't expecting to have a whole lot to theorize about with this one (especially given its relatively shorter length), but buckle in, because I'm sure I'm going to have a lot to say about the way that the end of this brilliant chapter played out...

Enough to call this a Part 1 again, much like I did last time. That means I have a rate of way over one image per minute...

SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time through the end of Chapter 2. (wild) Also spoilers for SDR2 through the beginning of Chapter 4.

When I was first watching the episode, I definitely had the thought, "I wonder if MonoTV is just saying this for the sake of engagement with the theoretical audience, because it seems like MonoTV should already know what the answer is due to its role and what the students just said." Based on what happens later in the episode, that was probably about correct? I dunno, there's a lot to unpack with MonoTV here.

Who Voted Teruko?

(For all two people who would understand the reference, please read that header in the tone of "who voted Sifu?" from Survivor 45. Or, really, I should probably say one person, because it's probably just Venus :P)

So, it's happened once again. While the clear majority of the votes are on the correct blackened, Ace, we have a single straggler who decided to vote for Teruko instead. But, who is this mystery person? Let's talk possibilities.

First, however, I think we should take a look at last Trial's voting results.

What I find strange is that the order of the students, even those who weren't voted for, changed. My guess was that students who receive votes are put at the front, students who are dead are put at the end, and the middle seems to be alphabetized by last name order?

Chiem - Cuevas - Fontana - Giles - Grebenshchikova - Hakobyan - Jing - Lacroix - Markey - Nageishi - Rosales - Tobisa - Young

Interestingly, if true, this means that J was being categorized as "J Rosales" even when she was still going by "J Moreno" in Chapter 1. Fascinating.

Anyways, the Chapter 2 board has shuffled things around. Obviously Min and Arei have been moved down since they died, and Ace was moved to the top because he now has votes. However, the end of the lineup also changed, for some reason.

Chiem - Cuevas - Fontana - Giles - Grebenshchikova - Hakobyan - Jing - Lacroix - Young - Tobisa - Rosales

What does this mean? Honestly, I have no clue. None of the students stayed in the same positions relative to each other (as in, Whit is no longer after Eden, Eden is no longer after J, etc), so I don't think it can be used to particularly suspect any of them? If anything, I think Eden would look the least suspicious, because at least she stayed in the middle while J and Whit swapped who was at the beginning or the end.

It's possible this was just an editing mistake, but I figured I'd point it out in case it helps anyone with their theories. (Clearly, it's just evidence that Whit is one step closer to becoming a Cuevas--)

Back to the original point, who was the one Teruko vote? In Chapter 1, I think it's pretty widely agreed upon that Min voted for Teruko. However, Teruko got two votes in Chapter 1, so the possibility remains that it could be the same person who's voted for Teruko twice now. I've gone on the record to say that I thought Arei was the one to provide Teruko her second vote in Chapter 1, but thankfully numberoneanika helped me to see how there could have been other options.

Obviously, Arei wasn't the one to vote for Teruko this time. So, with that in mind, here are my best theories:

Ace

Pros: Doesn't want to die, and therefore might not want to vote for himself. Probably the most obvious option.

Cons: At the end of 2-15, Ace was, all things considered, pretty accepting of his upcoming death. He said that the only reason he was fighting back was to stall for time, but that he knew that there was no way he'd get out of the Trial alive. Voting for Teruko doesn't help him delay the inevitable at all. If he were trying to cast a vote in the vain hope that it would save him from death, I would have expected it to go to Eden. Also, I doubt that Ace would have been the extra vote for Teruko in Chapter 1, to the extent that's important.

David

Pros: Dislikes Teruko and wants to cause chaos. It's also possible he could have cast the extra vote on Teruko in Chapter 1, if he had already made up his mind about wanting to take the killing game off the rails.

Cons: Honestly, I don't know if there are any direct cons to it being David who cast the vote. He might have been able to get more emotional damage for his buck if he'd voted for Eden or something? I don't know.

Teruko

Pros: Believes herself to be at least partially at fault for the deaths of her fellow classmates and doesn't like it. Therefore, if she can't bring herself to have another hand in their deaths by casting a vote on them, she could vote for herself (believing she can't die) instead. This is also an option that could easily be repeated across all Trials, if important.

Cons: If Teruko wants to proceed with not helping all of her other classmates die, it's in her best interest to vote correctly, instead of swaying the votes to an incorrect answer and having everyone but Ace die.

The Mastermind???

Pros: While it's not a guarantee, the mastermind likely has a grudge against Teruko (assuming the mastermind is not Teruko herself), due to the "kill Teruko Tawaki" missive/note. Therefore, they could be voting for her due to their grudge. From a narrative sense, this would also "ensure" that this phenomenon can happen at every Class Trial, if that's what DRDTdev wants.

Cons: Although I just laid out their motive, this would be an incredibly petty thing for the mastermind to do and could potentially give the innocent students needless additional information about their identity.

Conclusion? I think it's most likely to be David. After my blunder last time, though, I'm definitely willing to hear out other options if people have candidates to propose!

Also, it's nice that they updated David's portrait to include his new Look. I imagine some art intern scurrying around behind the scenes trying to find a good screenshot of David to use on the board in the last hour of the Trial.

Yo, wait, is that an anti-MM-coded line for Whit? Because the mastermind would obviously expect there to be more than one Trial? Can we get some more of these??? (/j)

Also kinda anti-Whit-knowingly-being-in-a-time-loop lines, for anyone who's been considering that theory. Unless he's just really deep undercover, to the level where he's interjecting lines that go against the theory to a group of people who have yet to suspect him for it at all.

LET'S GO NICO PARALLELS!!!!!!

Hu: How could you say it's just misfortune? Arei wasn't killed because of an accident. Bad luck or not, Ace had made up his mind to go through with this murder! So we can't possibly blame ourselves for failing to prevent something like that.

🔥🔥🔥THE BLAMING YOURSELF SISTERS🔥🔥🔥

Well, more or less. Teruko is fully blaming herself under the name of "misfortune"-- that much was made clear by the end of the episode, if nothing else. But Hu is coping by continuing to blame Ace convincing herself that there's nothing she could have done, and therefore isn't actually to blame. It doesn't matter how reliable she was-- because she was reliable, she promises-- because Ace was going to kill anyways. Basically, it doesn't matter how much of an immovable object she was because Ace was such an unstoppable force. Ignore the fact that the whole debate is about which of those would win.

Hu's stance is fascinating, though, because it means that she's somewhat buying in to the idea of fate. Arei was fated to die, Ace was fated to kill, no skin off your back. Given that MonoTV itself represents fate, it seems clear that one of the main messages of this story will be fate doesn't exist/is what you make it, which means that, to some degree, all of the characters will have to be representatives of or affected by that, with believing in the concept of immutable fate being represented as the villain. (I'm sure I'll talk about this more next time I talk about mastermind candidates.)

Therefore, Hu cashing in on the fate idea could be good or bad for her. It might be important that we establish that she does believe in fate, much like Teruko does, because she'll need to face it and denounce it on her way to survivor-hood. Or, this could be a subtle indicator that Hu will always lean on fate to protect her own sense of self, a red flag for her being a killer or possibly even a mastermind in the future.

Hu is clearly being set up to be a major player in Chapter 3, though, which is great for me, because that's exactly what I wanted! Let's get you some real daily life screentime, girl :)

Absolutely raw line here.

Eden: I... I can't forgive him. He killed Arei, after all. She was innocent, and he killed her for unfair reasons. But... those unfair reasons were unfair to him as well. Veronika: [...] When we first met Ace a week ago, he was the same person, certainly, but he was also different. He was happier, and he trusted people more. And he wasn't a murderer back then. Still, between then and now, he changed. He had to. Like adding stones to a pane of glass, one after another, until eventually, the glass cracks. The only thing anyone can do in this killing game is to shatter.

And another raw line from Veronika at the end of her section. I can't wait to see both of those lines used as captions for people's fanart.

Still though, on top of being true (and highlighting how Ace did actually change for the worse), this also feels like a reminder to us that the characters are changing over the course of the killing game. Therefore, a character who said one thing in Chapter 1 might not feel the same way once they hit Chapter 3 and beyond. Being in the killing game takes a toll on everyone, and the self-discovery it inspires can lead people to do things that they never would have done before. Case in point, Levi sacrificing himself for Teruko later in this episode.

SO true Veronika. Casual reminder to you all that this is literally only overall Day 8 of the killing game. Xander was alive less than one week ago for these people.

If I had a nickel for every time that Ace was compared to glass in Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 16, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

(Also, the clock-themed music is back. I wonder what it's supposed to represent...? *adds it to my already way too long list of theories to write now that the Chapter has ended*)

Genuinely WHAT was acevi cooking this episode. (/pos) I had never been super into the ship before because of how seemingly incompatible they were after the first trial, but seeing how much they clearly care about each other (or at least how much Ace cares about Levi) I'm kind of compelled to now. This truly was the toxic yaoi Trial ever.

Hey, FF called it in the "Blackened's Blaze of Glory" idea! Also, WOAH WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!

Let's go, Ace animation! It's nice to see that he was able to participate in one before he died. And wow, did he participate indeed!

It's kind of crazy how breakable MonoTV is due to its screen face. Like, you can't just do that to a Monokuma; his head is likely too hefty. But, even though MonoTV is breakable, it doesn't mean anything in the end. False hope at its finest.

This is the face of someone going, "wait, was it really that easy?"

HOLY SHIT

Out of all the lines and events of this episode, it's quite possibly this line that has made me go the most insane. Just goes to show that I am way too invested in the lore of this series. (/j)

So, this is a direct confirmation that XF-Ture Tech was involved in the creation of MonoTV, and therefore, quite possibly the implementation of the killing game as well. That's huge. I mean, not too unexpected given how important it clearly was to Xander, Min, and even altDRDT, but I wasn't expecting to get confirmation here and now of all places.

Given this, I would not be at all surprised if the altDRDT character known as XF is the one who created MonoTV. Like, she might be the Ultimate Roboticist or Ultimate Software Developer or something. It also means that the mastermind very likely has some sort of positive association with XF Tech, so sus on Min (sponsored by XF), Rose (has connections to one of the Spurlings), and possibly J (family runs in wealthy circles). Of course, if XF Tech is directly partnered with HPA in some way, it could also be someone who's particularly associated with the school-- although, that would most likely be Min again.

There's also the question, "why did MonoTV have a different personality than the default driver," which is related to the question, "what was the default driver created for?" My immediate thought was that XF Tech might just have robot assistants that generally help them, and that was the default personality that was assigned from MonoTV. However, XF (or whoever else) found that boring for the sake of entertainment, and decided to jazz MonoTV up, possibly to make it more like Monokuma.

Then again, it's been highlighted again and again that MonoTV is really incompetent. Surely, that's not something that someone who wanted the killing game to succeed would want to program into their host. It could have been an accidental side effect, but if MonoTV really was made by the Ultimate Roboticist, would that person really make mistakes? Is it possible that MonoTV's personality could have been made that way to subtly sabotage the killing game?

(I understand I'm furthering logic off of a string of assumptions-- not trying to lay down the law here, just running you through my initial thought process upon considering this evidence.)

Given that MonoTV told us in Chapter 2 Episode 3 that it has a lot of limits and there's a lot it still doesn't know about the killing game, I don't think that this is a situation in which MonoTV's AI expanded so much over time that it developed a new personality. Especially because that means that all that development would have needed to happen before the killing game began, off screen. That's why I think that MonoTV's alternate personality needs to have a human explanation, which I believe might be tied to XF.

I don't have any "answers" to this question because I don't think we're meant to have any at this point, but I also can't make any particularly compelling guesses about it without reviewing a lot of the evidence we already have. (*adds another theory to my mental theory list*) I am thinking about this though. I'm thinking about it a lot...

MonoTV: Full restart scheduled in one hour.

Also, I take this to mean that MonoTV will likely be back to its usual personality come Chapter 3. It might have a slightly different design to take into account the broken screen, but I think the personality will remain the same.

(If MonoTV's body does get fixed, would that mean that there are multiple copies of MonoTV out there, or that someone fixed MonoTV within that tight time window???)

MonoTV is in your walls.

Also, here's a list of all the students who are shown reacting in a confused/scared manner after MonoTV begins to restart: Eden, Rose, Ace, Nico. Doesn't mean that they can't be the mastermind all of a sudden, but it is probably evidence to the contrary. After all, the mastermind would likely be the one most aware that this could happen. And, if you only build in four slots of people reacting in disbelief (such that there are plenty of people who could slip under the radar), it might make more sense to give those lines to people who are actually genuinely shocked, much like the audience.

Also also, I think that the text on MonoTV's screen reads, "Falling back to default driver. Restart in an hour." AKA, not much lore to be taken from there, other than that it's once again called the "default."

It's MonoTV Time Again

More absolutely essential information when it comes to cracking what exactly MonoTV is. This is a killing game that is, first and foremost, designed to kill everyone, not going for anything like "redemption" or "revealing the truth."

It's also fascinating that it says "every participant." Not even "every participant except one"; the killing game wants to kill everybody. What does that tell us?

This killing game is likely NOT an attempt to imitate Junko. In that case, they would be prepared for the possibility of multiple survivors.

The mastermind, assuming they're amidst the cast, is willing to die for the bit. Every participant includes themselves.

XF-Ture Tech also default wants everyone to die. This likely means that they were willing to sacrifice Min for whatever this plan was. Sorry, Min :(

Now, it is definitely possible that any of these ideas are an overstatement. Killing all of the students is stated to be MonoTV's purpose, NOT the purpose of the killing game as a whole. Therefore, it could be that MonoTV is programmed to want all of the students to die, to minimize the chance that it would develop any feelings of sympathy and start to work against the killing game. Meanwhile, the mastermind is expecting there to be one or more survivors, potentially including themselves.

However, that is just a minor potential discrepancy, and I find it likely that DRDTdev intended this scene to comment more on the rationale of the killing game as a whole. In which case, this is a fascinating look into the mastermind and XF Tech's rationale.

He cares about Charles so much :,) <3

I know some people have been using this as reason to suspect him ("why would he be more focused on Charles not getting traumatized than telling Teruko, who he theoretically also cares about, to run"), but personally, I didn't read it that way at all. (I say as, like, the #1 Whit Isn't Evil defender lmao)

First of all, from a pacing perspective, I think it was nice to have a quick break from people just telling Teruko to run. We have Eden saying that, followed by Charles saying that, so having the third instance be something a little different helped break up the repeat information, in my opinion. J tells Teruko to run immediately afterwards anyway, so you still get the same effect of everyone warning Teruko as the clock ticks down.

Secondly (and more importantly), I think that this could easily be an indication of Whit seeing Charles as sort of an extension of his mom. Not in the sense that he sees Charles as family, but that Whit had one person who he really, really cared about, and he couldn't stop them from dying or being hurt. Even though Whit does generally care about the others, after Xander and Min died, he realized that he wouldn't be able to save everyone. And, he wasn't even particularly interested in trying in the first place-- after all, he said that solving the fights between others wasn't his business, so it's not like he's trying to be everyone's savior.

If Teruko is already dead, then that's how it's going to be; there's nothing he can do about it. But he can try to protect the person he cares about most in this killing game from suffering, because he refuses to have that person exit his life again. The fact that Whit is prioritizing Charles' safety over anything else in this moment will only make it all the sadder when Whit fails to prevent Charles from dying in Chapter 3, and make the impact of his returning loneliness all the more catastrophic.

Obviously, that's just my theory and not a fact, but I do think that it's one reasonable way to explain why Whit said that here without having to cast him in any sort of suspicion. It's a possibility.

Yet another instantly iconic line. I'm so happy that DRDTdev is doubling down with this being the reality of Teruko's talent, because pushing the abilities of someone who's talented with luck is so fun!

Although, not gonna lie, in this moment, I was actually flabbergasted and frantically running through options of who I thought the replacement protagonist might be. Like, Eden? Charles?? When people said they thought David might become the protagonist, THEY DIDN'T MEAN FOR CHAPTER 3!!!

Also, absolutely diabolical to hide Teruko's execution in plain sight as the thumbnail, under the guise that this was meant to represent Ace's death. Gosh.

But it was actually Levi who got shot, which is fascinating! I also thought they might kill him here as sort of a pre-emptive double kill (as in, "keep on pace with the typical number of fangan survivors while not actually having to explain why a double kill occurred"), but from the way the rest of the episode plays out, I think it's pretty clear that he'll live through this experience.

He'll almost certainly have some sort of design update, though, which I'm excited to see. Let's hope he doesn't suddenly turn into a robot, a la Nekomaru. (I imagine this scene may have originally been inspired by creating an alternate take on Nekomaru taking a bullet for Akane.)

As for why Levi did this for Teruko, Venus explained to me what I now believe is probably the most likely reason: he's repaying a perceived "debt" he owed to Teruko after she saved him from being executed back in the Prologue. (Other people may have reached this conclusion as well, but I heard it from Venus first)

Teruko already saved his life once before, so now, he believes he owes it to her to save hers. Obviously, Teruko seemed pretty confident about surviving the execution, but he may have still thought that causing her to suffer a coma or the loss of a limb was big enough of a threat that she shouldn't have to suffer through it.

That sort of idea would also tie into what I originally thought might have been some of his reasoning: that he doesn't think very highly of his own life, and was willing to sacrifice it for someone who he considered "good"/more important than him. It would also allow him to die as a hero saving someone's life, rather than a heartless monster who ended lives. Not saying that this is a healthy rationale, but, well, the guy just threw himself in the line of fire for someone who said they'd be fine. Also, it's DRDT. Nobody here has a healthy rationale.

Btw, this ⬇

Levi: I don't understand. I can't understand you, no matter how hard I try.

Is the last thing that Levi was ever able to say to Ace (as well as Levi's last line of the Chapter). Have fun with that, acevi nation.

My heart broke in half when I saw Rose react in this way. Hang in there, queen...

MonoTV: Don't worry. I shut off the gun as soon as I detected that Levi was in the way. His injuries are not fatal.

Also, MonoTV's default programming still includes it saying things like "don't worry"? Fascinating.

Motherfucker Not Another Clearly Important Info Jumpscare-- (/j)

So, uh. Whit got a new sprite in Chapter 2 Part 2 other than his trying not to laugh one. Yaaaaaaay... (dissolves into tears)

Points of interest about the sprite itself: obviously, this is the closest thing that we've gotten to a scary/breakdown sprite for Whit thus far.

If you look at his eyes, you'll see that they've gone gray/black as opposed to his usual blue, and his heart-shaped pupils and arrow-circle design have gone completely missing. This makes him I believe the third character whose eyes turn gray when they're experiencing negative emotions thus far, after Xander and David. Another knight at the table of Sir Light Pollution! Although, notably, Xander and David's eyes always had some gray in them, while Whit's, prior to now, were 100% blue.

Whit is also holding one hand behind his back, which could be concealing something? I saw a comic (which I thought was drawn by gooseagain8, but I checked their account and I couldn't find it--) where he was holding a remote to keep the Trial doors shut behind his back, and now I can't think of anything else, haha. However, I also don't know where Whit would have gotten that remote from, so it's probably not that specifically.

I don't think I even have to explain why people would use this to think that Whit is the mastermind. It's pretty obvious. However, I do think that this probably diminishes the odds of Whit being your standard "revealed in Chapter 6" mastermind, because it's so obvious. Fangan authors, naturally, can do whatever the hell they want, but it seems unfitting for DRDTdev's behavior so far to give such a massive hint for something that's so far down the road. I say this because, with the mysteries of Mai, and XF Tech, and who says the quotes at the beginning of the Chapters, and LGI, DRDTdev seems to have a track record of enjoying a long-running mystery, and making complex, layered puzzles that the most insane of fans can go back and forth on for hours.

If this was meant to be a hint that Whit will be revealed as the mastermind in Chapter 6, I'd think we'd get, like, a sprite with Whit's hand behind his back but without the scary expression, or he'd say something more subtle like "don't you just love it when you can't get the door open?"

Instead, we get this incredibly in-your-face, obviously suspicious sprite, that even someone who had never seen an episode of DRDT before in their life could easily point out to suspect that Whit is evil. So then, why else could it be included?

One option is that it is meant to foreshadow that Whit will take on a more villainous role, but in the shorter term. He could be revealed as a mastermind or traitor in Chapter 3. My problem with this sprite as evidence of Whit as a late-game mastermind is that this is a really big hint. Generally, with a reveal like that, you'd probably want to build up to the reveal with bigger and bigger hints. For instance, you could say that DRDTdev started off with the small hint that Whit knows a lot about what people think, then move up to the medium hint that he and MonoTV have similar styles of humor and meta jokes, then move to the bigger hint that Whit suddenly knows a ton about how hanging works, for some reason. This piece of evidence is such a big hint that Whit is the mastermind (under the assumption that it is that) that I don't really know where you'd go from here without just saying that Whit is the mastermind. We've eliminated the possibility that the hints could grow any bigger, cutting the trail off early. Therefore, at the moment, I think this only (narratively) works if this is the last hint we get that Whit is the mastermind, which would mean that Whit would have to be outed soon.

Alternatively, I definitely think it's possible that DRDTdev is setting up Whit as an intentional red herring, a bait with which to divert the audience's attention away from whoever the real mastermind is. It could just be a fun game for the fandom, or actually come into play in the main plot in the future, if someone accuses him of being the mastermind on these charges. That's sorta the assumption I'd been operating off of before witnessing this scene. However, if that's the case, then DRDTdev shouldn't just have Whit do all of these things without creating an in-universe explanation for why he did them. Whit would have to have a completely innocent reason for striking this pose at this point, which... oh boy.

Not gonna lie, it's been difficult for me to come up with a non-sus explanation for this sprite that doesn't make it sound like I'm 100% coping, but I'll try my best. Anybody got some more of those spare anti-MM-coded Whit lines I asked for earlier?

Given the presentation of DRDT, when we see this sprite of Whit, we don't know what he's looking at. It's easy to jump to the assumption that he's looking at the students who are trying to open the door, but it's also possible that he's just looking at the door itself. Like, he's also just expressing his anger at the door for not opening.

If that's the case, it would probably be for the same rationale that I used to justify his line protecting Charles earlier. He doesn't want Charles to suffer, which means that he wants Charles out of this room now. The hand behind the back, then, is a tad confusing, but there are a few explanations I can think of.

The first is that this sprite was created with further uses in mind down the road. For instance, if Whit later hides a gun behind his back (don't ask how or why he would non-suspiciously have a gun), then this sprite may have been prepared to handle that circumstance so that it doesn't have to be redrawn later. Of course, to this point, DRDTdev hasn't held back with creating unique sprites for unique situations-- check out how many sprites Teruko and Ace have for likely just this episode. So, it's probably more likely that, if Whit does need to hide something behind his back later, it would have been drawn then.

The second is that just the hand is a red herring. The facial expression is real (being mad at the door), but DRDTdev made him hide his hand behind his back so that people would think he was concealing something. Overall, I think that's an acceptable level of red-herring-ness. You aren't faking something as big as the facial expression itself, but you still throw in a little false lead to throw the audience off of the scent. However, in an ideal world, there would still have to be an in-universe explanation for why he did it. Unless he just chose this moment to scratch his lower back, I don't know what that would be.

That's all I have for now, but I don't necessarily think that this sprite means that Whit has to be evil in some capacity. However, it's done the best job so far of making me think that he is, so I'll keep my mind open to that in the future.

This is such an excellent end to Ace's character. Like, I was already nodding my head along with all of the people who expressed why Ace's death here was narratively satisfying, but having him finally accept death in order to save Levi's life is a beautiful cherry on top.

I like it because it doesn't make Ace's death as overall depressing as everyone thought it would be. Ace was about to die believing that he was a piece of shit who never changed, even when everyone else wanted him to and was able to themselves. But, even if he might not have realized it, accelerating his own death for Levi's sake means that he did change. He was finally able to conquer his fears by looking them straight in the face. And, if the theories are correct that Ace had a hand in Taylor's death...

Ace: Because... because Levi is gonna fucking die, and I'm going to have a third goddamn death on my hands!

(Here's iistardust-and-sprinklesii's post, which first brought the idea that "third death" might mean that Ace was adding Levi on to his kill count of Arei and Taylor to my attention, at least.)

...it means that he also got to save a friend this time instead of killing him.

Obviously Ace's death is still a tragedy-- every death in the killing game is-- but just like Arei, he was still able to improve himself from who he was before he died. It's a really poetic ending that really hammers in the point that everyone has the capacity to be a good person, even in their last moments.

Really really really loved Logan's performance as Arturo here. This is the most... I don't know, human? Arturo has ever sounded. He sounds really young and afraid, which is totally befitting of the scene. It's not like I now believe that Arturo is a great guy and shoo-in survivor or anything, but it endeared me a lot to his character.

Also "I have no experience with saving lives" Felicity OOF.

This CG goes so fucking hard. First of all, I love the way that DRDTdev drew the hair and the fabric folds. They're always great, but I think that the extra sharpness and blockiness going on here serves the pointedness yet bluntness of Ace's words. Second of all, THE COLORS. Not only has everything become more red to highlight the fire and passion behind Ace's words, but it's also ACE'S COLOR. Ace is literally dyeing Arturo with his final message before he dies. I don't think we've really seen Arturo and Ace interact before (other than implied horror trio, I guess), so this was a fascinating move to make with regards to Arturo's character moving forward.

This is another way that Ace's character ends satisfyingly. Kind of funny that he's parroting this message when he just internalized it from Teruko, like, 15 minutes ago, but I understand why it resonated with him. And, like Levi, why he might have overstated this lesson so that he could go out as (even more of) a hero.

Execution Rambling Time!

This execution had a lot going on, so I expect to have a lot to say about it. We'll start here, with the name: Thanatophobia. For anyone who wasn't aware, it means, "fear of death." Totally makes sense, especially given Ace's eventual cause of death. I guess MonoTV/the mastermind/XF Tech(??? INSANE) knew enough about Ace to know that he was going to die of fright at the end? Eh, that's how most executions work, so I don't think it gives us too much to work with.

However, this is a confirmation that executions in DRDT are more based on what will cause students despair than directly what their talent is. It was kind of hard to tell with Min, given that her talent (Ultimate Student) and her fear of failing and being wrong kind of went hand in hand. However, horses were not the focus of this execution; Ace's personality was. Cool to keep in mind for future executions.

Drdtblingsceo (and perhaps others, but they were the first person I saw) was able to make out that not only does the grave on the left say "Taylor Riley," but the two other graves also say "Felicity Giles" and "Elliot Cuevas." (You can't really make it out in my screenshots, but you can see it better in the linked post. Sorry, I have a fairly old computer :( ) Terrible news for Mr. Riley, but great news for us when it comes to speculating about Ace's past. I wonder what caused Ace's secret to be about his eating disorder, rather than his dead friend that he seemingly blames himself for?

I was very closely inspecting this frame to see if it would contain any easter eggs about what happened in Xander's past. As far as I can tell, the article titles read, from right to left:

Unexplained Illness Kills Thousands

More People Are Dying of Cancer Than Ever Before

Flu Season Claims Thousands of Lives

Chronic Kidney Disease Mortality Death Toll Continues to Climb

??????? (I don't think this one actually has any text)

Falling Rates of Survival for Hospitalized Patients

Antibiotic-Resistant Infections a Growing Threat in Hospitals

Article #1 is the article that's zoomed in on for dramatic effect. As far as I can see, none of the actual paragraphs of any of the articles are legible.

We can fully rule out #2, #3, and #4 as being related to Xander-- those are all real-world diseases that don't really match up with the sickness Xander described. #5 is also out, because, even if it was meant to relate to Xander, it has no content, and therefore, nothing to analyze. I don't know why it's there, but it gives nothing.

#1, #6, and #7 all have the possibility of being related to Xander-- most likely #1, given that it was the one that was zoomed in on-- but that's only because they're vague. Therefore, we can't really learn anything more about the North C and Chariton incident from them. Still a good idea to check them, in my opinion, but they don't seem to bear any fruit.

Goddammit, do I really have to run out of images *now*? Like, in the middle of the execution? Fine, I'll be back to finish what I've started in a bit. Thank you for reading this far, and look out for the reblog hopefully later today!

[unholyhelbig]

More firecrest pls & thank u

Title: Firecrest (Part 5/7)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: More bad parenting, Needles, shootings (guns and mention of death), discrimination, Politics (vaguely), and horrible grammar because we all know I don't proofread.

[A/n: Woo, okay, have finally gotten my bearings on a chapter count. Two more to go folks and then all of my attention will be focused on Fright Night!]

The bourbon burned uncomfortably when you swallowed it down in two gulps. The warmth swirled in your stomach and instantly went to your head. It was a dizzy feeling, one that replaced the despair that had settled in your bones. The oaky taste was appealing enough for you to tap the edge of the glass to signal for another.

The Rusty Nail was the definition of ‘dive-bar’, with its smoke-yellowed walls and torn booth seats that frothed with foam. The bartender had a stained towel over his shoulder and replaced the beer that was in front of a man at the other end of the bar, wordlessly.

A box television that had to be from at least the early 90’s was mounted on the corner of the wall. The news played through the speakers with a cracking static. There was roadwork in the majority of Brooklyn, and coat drives taking place at every middle school in the district.

What caught your hazy attention was a photo of Lance. His smile was intoxicating to the general public, and the graph that populated next to him with winning numbers confirmed this fact. He was pulling ahead astonishingly, and even through your misery, you felt a swell of pride.

“Get a load of that guy,” The bartender hissed under his breath.

“Not a fan?”

You’d heard everything under the sun about your step-father, pointedly ignoring the negative opinions in favor for the man that cooked fantastic blueberry pancakes. His campaign relied on dissolving what remained of the Sokovia accords, and removing the restrictions that were put on Inhumans.

For you, it was easy. While a deep and dark fire brewed within you, you still looked relatively normal. Of course, you went through your teenage phases of turmoil, just like everyone else. But, there were people out there who weren’t so lucky; Inhumans that were plagued with spikes covering their entire bodies, translucent skin that displayed the entirety of their innerworkings, or the rocks that engulfed you once, never falling away at all.

Still, with the small Inhuman marking on the edge of your license, it took three times as long to get through airport security, and renting an apartment hadn’t even been a possibility without your mother co-signing. The world still feared Inhumans, just as they feared the changes that came along with them.

It had been changing for years, and Lance wanted to push things just a little further. You held out hope, but immense love for the man who had helped raised you. Though, not everyone felt the same way. A good portion of citizens opposed the man with the golden smile and kind eyes because of his stance on Inhumans.

“He’s pretty don’t get me wrong. But his stance on those… freaks? Those accords are the only thing keeping our streets safe.”

“Oh?”

“You disagree?”

You took a tentative sip of your drink. You were bone-tired and not much into political talk. It was the middle of the night, and you had just felt the adhesive of your ‘fake-dating-band-aid” get ripped from your skin. It left a stinging discomfort behind.

You shrugged “I don’t think they’re hurting anyone.”

The bartender narrowed his eyes and scoffed. He took your empty glass and didn’t offer to refill it. He probably thought you were drunk, and while you were a little tipsy at best, your position on what you were, what so many people around you hid, stayed the same. It worried you, the target that Lance had on his back because of this.

“What about that shooting?”

“The one committed by a human?

This silenced him, though he wore his frown on his sleeve. It had been so quick, blasted all over the news. A father of a teenager had walked into the pizza place where his son worked and opened fire. He’d found out earlier in the day, that his son was an Inhuman, exposed to the same chemicals you were. Three people died, including the shooter, but it was spun in a way that was unforgiveable.

You held you tongue, instead, throwing your money on the counter. You’d come here to get away from the chaos of your own mind. It had dulled the anxieties to an extent, but what was taken away was soon replaced with annoyance.

Your apartment was, of course, empty upon your return. Keys were set on the end table by the door and you flicked on the nearest light so you could avoid the furniture that you thought about moving every single day. It was lonely here. Cold in a way that went beyond a thermostat.

Sleeping was well out of the question, so you skimmed the bookshelf placed on the far side of the room and grabbed the piece of literature that was most appealing. You saw no point in keeping books that didn’t pull you in within the first hundred pages, but there was a staple few that you kept no matter what.

You’d picked up a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. You thumbed through the pages, letting it fan the sharp sourness of old paper. The last time you’d read it, you only made it halfway through, and the makeshift bookmark that fell out landed on your lap.

You abandoned the book as quickly as you picked it up in favor for the page marker. It was an old, folded photo. As if pouring salt into the wound, it was one of the only known photos of you and Kate together. Her smile beamed at the camera, one arm around your shoulder and the other holding up the middle finger. 

The two of you were standing on the docks at rented cabin that your families shared. Usually, you didn’t run into the Bishops, but one fateful year, your leisure time had aligned. Eleanor wanted to take a nice photo. You never knew if it was for the masses, or for her own pleasure, but Kate ruined every single shot with her shit-eating grin and obscene gestures.

It had been creased right down the middle, a sloppy split in the glossed parchment. A tear had dripped from your chin and landed on the edge, your throat suddenly tight. You didn’t bother wiping them away, or picking up the discarded copy of Pride and Prejudice when it hit the carpet with an undignified thump.

You were sobbing by the time you decided to fold the photo back up. That was as far as you had gotten, really. Slumped back in a worn loveseat and letting the tears that had been building all day well-up and soak your collar. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and your chest ached fiercely.

It angered you, that all of this was about Kate Bishop, of all people.

It should be Clint that brought on the wealth of emotions. And in a way, it was. It had always been. The archer had discarded you as a young child, and you supposed you should be thankful for that. You were privileged, especially compared to the poor boy in the pizza shop. But the scars still lingered horribly.

You landed softly, and most of that had been because of Kate. The anger and distress that came with the situation was always dampened by her stormy eyes and her pension for doing good. It rebelled against the Bishop protocol and after a long while, you realized she was different. Kinder. Clumsier. More dedicated.

She knew what she wanted, just as well as she knew what you needed. In moments of anger, she’d distract you with her innate ability to drive you crazy with competition. In panic, she had a softer touch that soothed you into extinguishing volatile flames.

Sleeping with her had been a bad idea. You knew if from the start, but preened at her deeper attention, at the way her hands felt against you, breath fanning warmly across your cheeks and then your chest. For her, you were a release. For you, she was everything.

You were in love, with Kate, mother fucking, Bishop.

It weighed your shoulders down, labored your breathing. But strangely, you felt no flames. The warmth that usually accompanied strong emotions such as these wasn’t there. For the first time, in a long time, you succumbed to sadness. Just sadness.

The cobalt of Kate’s dress illuminated the blue ringlets in her iris’s. They caught the light of the chandelier in the lobby. They were crystal, hanging low but secured tightly to the ceiling. Almost as tight as the dress that Kate wore.

You were clad in a tailored suit, loosely buttoned black fabric a lace corset that matched the cobalt of Kate’s cocktail dress. She’d sent you the color combination in a single word text. Blue. And you’d followed her instructions perfectly, matching her wavelength like always.

For extra measure, you put on a dainty stainless steel arrow necklace. It showed commitment, it was just short of showing your misery. Kate’s eyes canned from your toes to your own stare and you barely suppressed the shivers that came with her scrutiny.

She figured it would be better to face this on a united front and arrive together. She let out a quiet huff of indignance and folded her arm enough for you to loop your own through it. Her warmth, her comfort, no matter how scarce, was overwhelming and threatened to bring back the tears.

That wasn’t what tonight was about. Tonight was about having a united front, about being endlessly in love to make your parents uncomfortable. You weren’t quite sure what Kate was getting out of this and she wasn’t about to tell you either.

The elevator ride up was uncomfortable. She’d never been this quiet for this long before.

“Kate,”

“No.” She clenched her jaw, voice a low whisper despite it only being the two of you and the slowly climbing lift. “For once, y/n, don’t say a word.”

Your eyes met hers in the reflective paneling and you gave her a small nod. The silence had suddenly become heavier, deeper. Your hand curled up in your jacket pocket before you diverted your gaze. The only mercy was the elevator reaching the penthouse, a muffled ‘ding’ proceeding the doors sliding open to her foyer.

The archer had pulled her shoulders back and had a soft smile on her face. There was a sadness behind her eyes that anyone else would have to dig for, but you could see it from a mile away. She was hurting as much as you were but wasn’t going to show it.

You did just the same, working the tension from your features as the scent of lamb coated your lungs and made your stomach clench. You’d always hated the dish, but it was a staple of the Bishop family chef so you powered through it every time.

She smoothed her hand over your jacket sleeve as the two of you stepped out of the elevator. It almost scared you how perfectly she fit into this role. It was the flip of a switch. You were uncomfortable with the thought of it being in your favor. You couldn’t feel the love behind her gestures, because they were just that. Gestures.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Ready.” You replied.

The mechanical whir of the elevator had attracted the attention of those who had already arrived. You’d been in Kate’s house once or twice, enough to count on only one hand. But, you knew the layout fairly well. Her apartment was open concept, and this had a million intersecting walls and corridors.

The two of you passed the dining room and entered something you could only describe as a sitting room, maybe a study with the large oak bookshelves, dusty and untouched. The walls were a Spanish moss green and the hardwood covered by an oriental rug.

Eleanor wore a blood red dress, and Jack had a matching silk pocket square. Clint was the only one that stood out among all of you. He wore a nice dress shirt that was tucked into black pants, he looked cleanly pressed and perfect for a Bishop dinner party.

He held a glass of whiskey, and Jack was pouring one more. He gave you a beaming, and wholly innocent smile, his mustache lifting at the sides. “Miss Morse! Katie!”

You felt Kate stiffen next to you at the name, her jaw clenching. Instinctively, your hand covered hers, thumb ghosting over the scarring on her knuckles. Her shoulders seemed to lower, and that breath smelled of the familiar wintergreen.

“Darling,” Eleanor moved forward and placed phantom kisses against both of Kate’s cheeks before moving to do the same with you. “Let me get a good look at you both.”

“Mom, you’ve seen us before.”

“Not like this. It’s different. Before it was just rumors, and speculation. Annoying, isn’t it? But now, we can spin this anyway we want to.”

Kate gave her mother a tight smile. “We’re not a press opportunity”

“Not so easy to say when you’ve already been all the press can talk about.” She shrugged and took the glass from Jacks hand. “You know, at first, I thought this was horrible. But people seem to like you both.”

There was something on the tip of her tongue that wanted to escape. A God Know’s why or a couldn’t be me. But she said neither and an uncomfortable silence fell over you all. Kate subconsciously tightened her fingers against your arm once more, and the pressure was nearly soothing.

Your eyes met Clint’s across the room, and you got hit with the familiar feeling of your world tilting in a nauseating way. He offered up a small smile, the only one he could muster within these last few chaotic weeks.

He waved at Kate, not enthusiastically, a neutral and awkward expression of affection. Kate let out a long breath, retracting her arm and similarly placing her hand on the small of your back. She needed a grounding technique, just as much as you did.

Eleanor sensed the tension and announced that it was time for dinner. The scent of the lamb came rolling back in crashing waves. Upon entering the dining room, you were positive that the woman hadn’t cooked this meal herself.

A linin table cloth was punctuated with candles, bathing the room in a dull yellow light. There were different platters piled with dripping meat, and steaming mashed potatoes. Glasses of red wine rested next to the salads situated on gold plating.

Fire crackled within the large stone hearth that you’d never seen lit. It seemed almost directed, sitting in front of the warm, smoldering flames. Across from you was Eleanor and Jack, Clint right in between them. Jack seemed particularly fond of the man, similarly entrapped by his accomplishments as the rest of the world.

“Everyone, dig in” Eleanor prompted “No need to be so formal.”

“Right,” Kate cleared her throat, picking up fork and chasing a cherry tomato with the prongs. “How is everyone?”

You winced at the pathetic attempt at small talk, staring down at your own wilted greens. It was a valiant effort that was promptly ignored by everyone else at the table.

“Y/n, why don’t you tell us more about yourself?” Eleanor asked.

Kate gave you a look that intimately read as you don’t have to entertain her. “You know all about Y/n. We grew up together.”

“From fifth grade onward. I remember when your mom enrolled you. You kept deliberately ripping your uniform until she agreed to pants. Same thing happened with Katherine. But now that you and my daughter are involved, I’d like to know more.”

She took a sip of her wine, and your fingers brushed over the glass base of your own glass. But you didn’t pick it up. You’d decided last night, sometime between showering off the scum of the dive-bar and propping a window in your apartment to get some fresh air, that you needed a clear head for something like this.

You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, what would you like to know?”

“Where you grew up!” Jack cut in fantastically, talking around a mouth full of vegetation, waving his fork around like a madman “Your favorite color, if you have any pets!”

Your stare flicked to Clint, but he was staring down at his untouched food. He didn’t know the answer to any of these questions and the stinging bile that threatened to push past your lips was instantly swallowed back down in favor of your dignity.

“I moved around a lot as a kid, my mom traveled for work a lot so we were never in one place for too long. Amsterdam, Delhi, Perth. The best place though, was a small desert town in Arizona. There weren’t many people there and it could get to about a hundred degrees by the time the sun was at it’s highest point. But it was peaceful, and beautiful.”

Clint was watching you carefully now. He’d been there too. It was one of the last places you’d traveled together as a family. There was a small strip of old wooden structures that reminded you of the wild west, cutting through the orange of the desert. Murals were painted against the rocky structures, writhing snakes, swallowing the sun, and fire shimmering over it’s scales.

It was captivating during the day, but even better at night. It was the clearest you had ever seen the stars. Blankets of twinkling constellations and milky ways that you’d never seen before. Your neck started to ache from staring up at it for so long, and it was Clint who had laid a blanket in the bed of his truck and laid next to you to view them.

He’d taught you about the different formations, and of course, his favorite, the Sagittarius. An archer that sacrificed his own mortality for the sake of his sons. It seemed ironic now. But then, it had made you feel like the most important girl in the world.

“A dusty old desert town over the streets of Amsterdam?” Eleanor seemed to find amusement in this, piercing a slice of carrot with the prongs of her fork. It gave a satisfying snap. “Interesting.”

“It was peaceful” You shrugged, finally giving in and taking a warm sip of wine. “The last time we were together as a family.”

“Is that right?”

Eleanor was enjoying herself too much and Kate’s hand nervously went to the charm around her own neck. You hadn’t noticed it before, trying to be respectful. Trying not to let your eyes wander during an irreparable time.

She looked best in gold and knew that from a young age. The chain was dainty, and the pendant was a whisp of a flame. It made your mouth go dry and you wondered if it was a conscious decision, just like the one you had made to grab the only necklace with an arrow.

“I remember that place.” Clint spoke up for the first time. “It was called Chloride. Weird name for a town.”

You were too transfixed on Kate’s fingers running over the curvature of the necklace to care. Her cheeks took on a red tint in the glow of the candles. She removed her hand and found yours on top of the table. It was damp, but a solid force.

“You were afraid of scorpions in your shoes and made me and your mom check and double check them before you even thought of putting them on. You usually went barefoot, which was more dangerous than just wearing the shoes.”

“Is this your idea of an olive branch?”

The words left your mouth without thinking, and they were pumped with venom. You couldn’t help it. Your stomach was already rolling unsteadily and his words, though soaked with kindness, were far from merited. Kate’s mother sat back with an almost giddy look on her face. She’d been expecting this.

Kate tightened her grip inadvertently, and you could feel the small sting of her nails carving crescents into your palm. You wholly expected her gaze to be narrowed at you, but it was transfixed on Clint. There was a hardness there that she had harbored for you earlier in the week.

You let out a strangled breath and stared down at your salad. It wasn’t worth it. None of this felt worth it. In a strange way, you were absolutely defeated, and the wilted lettuce was much more interesting than satisfying Eleanor Bishop’s sick need for chaos.

“No. of course not.” His expression betrayed a sadness that pulled uncomfortably at your chest. “Just a memory, is all.”

“Do you know what I remember?”

Kate rumbled softly, a noise that was every bit the warning to you. Let it go. She worried incessantly about the fire under your fingertips. Possibly more than yourself in moments like these. But there was no itching beneath your skin. For once, it was just a storm of sorrow. Sweat was forming on your brow and Kate’s grip shifted to your wrist, finger pressed plainly to your pulse.

“The look in your eyes when you walked away. I was just a kid, but that was the first time I ever learned about betrayal. For months, Clint, months I would sit by the window and wait for you to come back. It didn’t matter where we were, what country, what city, I would wait. I was certain that you would find us and we could be a family again.”

He clenched his knife and fork on either side of his plate, his knuckles turning a sickly type of white that nearly echoed yellow, his whisper was broken. “I’m… sorry. I understand that you need someone to blame, kid.”

“Blame?” You let out a dry laugh, standing with enough force to push the chair back with a strangled screech. “You think this is about blame? That’s a simple emotion to work through. This is about which one of you was willing to stick around when things got hard, and which one of you ran to a new family.”

The silence was deafening. Eleanor lifted her wine glass and hid her vicious smirk behind the seductive red liquid. Jack had directed his tender stare to Kate, no-doubt deciding then and there to be a good stepfather for more than a few moments at a time.

You sucked in a heavy breath before shaking your head and leaving the room. It wasn’t difficult to navigate the Bishop penthouse, with it’s dark open-concept layout. You needed air. It was much too hot in the dining room and you’d begun to sweat through your layers of clothing.

The balcony connected to the family room lacked decoration. It was a stone ledge that caught the cold drafts of high winds, drying the sweat against your skin instantly. You swallowed enough frigid air to burn your throat, but the tears refused to come. You couldn’t cry anymore.

Your head hung over the edge of the balcony, a strange dizziness washing over you as you stared down at the passing traffic, hundreds of unblinking eyes that lit up the night. You wish you had the foresight to grab the glass of wine, or something stronger from Jacks secret stash.

The temperature had dropped significantly by the time you heard the sliding glass door open. You didn’t bother turning around. Not with the subtle evergreen scent. “Tell Eleanor I’m sorry for ruining dinner.”

“Ruining?” Kate chuckled softly. Warmth engulfed you as she draped a blanket over your shoulders. You grasped the frayed edges out of habit and tugged it closely around you. “She lives for the drama of it all. She expected this, I think you’ve actually made her year.”

She leaned against the balcony, letting her hands hang over the edge. She looked ethereal in the moonlight, pale and beautiful. The tell-tale anger that had been etched into her features earlier was surrendered. You caught the glint of her bracelet and nervously brought your own hand up to the cool arrow charm that rested against your collarbone.

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it? Waiting for someone to apologize?”

The corner of your lips lifted into a smile. “Very subtle, Katie.”

“I’m giving you an opening here.”

You sighed heavily and turned just enough to get a better look at her. She always knocked the breath out of you in an almost cruel way. Her eyes held a tenderness that was unmatched. She was patient with you, just like she had always been.

“This entire time, I’ve been chasing after an apology from Clint., one that he’s too proud to give. It’s easy to be consumed by something like that, but that’s no excuse to hurt you in the process.” You swallowed heavily, trying to curb the dryness in your throat.

You couldn’t look at her. The mere sight of the curve of her jaw, the softness of her demeanor despite her deep seeded anger, would be too much. Kate effectively knocked you off your feet every single time she spared you a glance. If you were going to get this out in the open, you’d much rather stare at the traffic below.

 “Katie, I can’t begin to describe how much you mean to me. We’ve always had this unspoken rivalry and for the longest time I couldn’t figure it out. Why couldn’t we both just be good at the same things without vying against one another?”  

You let out a wounded sigh, fingers digging into the stone balcony. “I never understood why I wanted to beat you so badly, and I don’t know where along the way that changed. But I’ve realized recently that it was never about beating you. It was about making you proud.”

Her breath had caught, a subtle noise that you noticed due to proximity. Her hand was atop yours, much like it was at dinner, somehow warmer than your own. She didn’t say anything, and you didn’t lift your gaze to meet hers. Your cheeks were enflamed with blush that you could blame on the two sips of wine you had.

“Deep down, I’ve always known that I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss at archery camp. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I was doing more damage hiding it from you than putting it out there. You have to understand, Katie, I never meant to hurt you the other day. I’m just so used to burying it down, to keeping my emotions stifled for the greater good, that I didn’t know what to say… how to say it.”

She was rendered speechless herself and you could feel your vision start to blur at the edges, the lights from lines of city traffic suddenly fuzzy. You were never a fan of heights, but the sudden sloppy confession was much more daunting than the prospect of falling thirty stories.

“Oh,” Kate rasped.

You clenched your eyes shut until you saw stars. She’d never been a girl of little words, and you felt your heart rate increase. It pounded listlessly, preparing for rejection that you knew typically followed her silence.

None of that came, however, instead was the slightest pinprick against the side of your neck. You would have figured it nothing more than a mosquito if the weather hadn’t taken an icy turn. But this was different, this alerted your senses in one fail swoop.

Your eyes snapped open and narrowed at Kate in time to register the emptying of the syringe she’d pushed past your skin. A sickly green liquid that already stung terribly as it started to pulse through your veins.

“A lovely sentiment, I’m sure.” She pouted in a mocking way, lilting her head to the side as she pulled the needle from the side of your neck. Your fingers pressed against the area to quell the foreign sensation.

You were suddenly incredibly dizzy, the pulsing of your vision matching with the frantic beating of your heart. You were losing strength quickly, clinging to the stone balcony for some type of solace. You fell all the same, collapsed at its corner with quick breaths of panic.

Kate was suddenly crouched in front of you. She lifted your chin until you could stare into her eyes. They were cold, emotionless. “Maybe one day, you’ll be able to tell her.”

Her thumb brushed lightly over your cheek. It was so familiar, yet incredibly foreign. Your thoughts were muddled, non-existent as the heavy sensation took over. She seemed to revel in your confusion, in the pain that she’d so easily inflicted.

Kate’s disconnected stare was the last thing you saw before darkness swallowed you whole in an odd type of comfort, the world ceased to flicker, like the edges of a flame.

Tag List💕: @noturlondonboy, @slvtformaria, @pianogirl2121, @escapereality4music, @cyberbonesworld, @dark-hunter16

[unconventional-user]

Statuesque

I'm crawling out the sewers to re-introduce myself. Plus new blog yay!

König and Reader are relatively almost the same height SO I DONT WANNA HEAR NO CANON THAT READER IS 5 FOOT SOMETHING NO THEYRE LIKE 6'5 HELL PROBABLY EVEN TALLER-

Anyways, as you can tell I know nothing about the military nor COD, only what I've read and seen. Shoot me. Reader is intended to be gn overall but correct me in case.

pairing: könig x tall!reader 

warning(s): uhhhh idk, kinda sucks? (I tried)

word count: 2.7k

* This work was created by @unconventional-user, no re-post(s), you may, however, re-blog. Thank you. *

'How tall are you?'

'Are you a basketball player?'

'Do you wear heels?'

'How's the weather up there?'

These questions were a constant occurrence whenever leave took place. It was a reminder how annoying and entitled people were at times.

Luckily, deployment had come quickly most times, so you wouldn't have to deal with them often.

It's not like there was anything to head back to when 'off duty' anyway.

Parents were several countries overseas as well as other family, friends, and folk. So being called back often wasn't a rare occurrence nor was it annoying...

After joining the Air Force, it was expected of your squadron to work alongside certain groups. You happened to be the lucky few that helped aid the Special Air Services pretty often. It was mainly with transports as well as to help fly troops on missions.

It was nice. Some of the best times honestly.

Britain was a really cool place too.

But the constant travelling back and fourth, US to UK kind of left this uncertainty of which place was your 'true' home.

Almost like an identity crisis sort of.

So after some thinking and request of separation, you moved countries alongside joining the British Army.

Many more years later you're a part of the Special Air Services.

You could say the years in the Air Force might've helped a bit by leaving such positive feedback to them when SAS asked about their new soldier.

Judging from their background, they described as if the "golden child" for helicopter pilots was amongst them:

A once in a lifetime.

A relic of some sorts.

A phenomen.

According to them, you knew how to maneuver the damn chopper 'as if you built it yourself'.

Thus becoming a well recognized name amongst the special forces more specifically.

You'd like to thank the impeccable flying skills for landing you on such a radar.

Still, most of your work went unnoticed the first couple of years in SAS til' they eventually caught someone's eye later on:

"That's some amazing skills there—hello, we haven't met. My name is Kate."

The communication analyst would keep in touch with you after that. She claimed a specific task force officer asked for your wings.

"You know how to maneuver a helicopter better than anyone I've seen in a while. And I'm not the only one who's seen you in action."

Years pass after that, you're still on par with transporting soldiers and the Task Force 141, means you must be doing something right…right?

Shaking off the commotion of thoughts, you drove till the view of a familiar, bordered gateway appeared.

Upon entry, it was time to head over to your station.

-

Some inspections and loadings later, a shout was heard from afar. Turning towards the culprit, it was none other than Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish.

"Long time no see, aye bonnie?"

Leaning against the rails of the helicopter, he gave a smile. In return you gave one back as you finished clearing the aircraft as: PASS.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," you chuckled, "I believe I saw you yesterday."

Ignoring the matter-of-fact, he continued on, "Call me Soap. Remember, yer one of us."

Smiling awkwardly, you pretend to re-inspect one of the throttles once again.

To be 'considered' a part of task 141 was…a weird feat or way to put it overall. You were in their squadron as their pilot, but you weren't necessarily with them. You weren't a part of their briefings or any of that.

You were separate from them.

The only one who really 'considered' you as part was Sergeant MacTavish.

Not to say the others were assholes or something. Lieutenant Ghost often would brief a 'good job' or 'nice maneuvering' to you once in a while.

Sergeant Garrick and Captain Price also acknowledged you from time to time, always greeting when deemed necessary.

To put it into simple words…they like your flying skills. You're like a designated pilot for them sort of.

'Way to make it sound like you're just a chauffeur-'

Shaking the thoughts aside once more, you focused on what Johnny said.

"Come again, Sergeant?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head but repeated himself once more. He always found you cute yet attractive. A true bonnie. These small actions never ceased to add to his attraction towards you.

Plus, he liked them tall. He could only imagine you in heels now…

"Wait…so you guys are gonna team up with a whole 'nother group for the mission?" You asked.

Great. Now he had to shake his thoughts aside. Clearing his throat, Johnny nodded.

"Price got told he needed backup for this one. Apparently it's too risky to go alone."

"Sounds rough."

"Aye, Ghost ain't too fond of the idea either."

Didn't look like he was too happy about the situation as well.

Nodding, you understood the lieutenant's 'worry' about being aided by a private contractor unit. Another responsibility and potential liability overall.

Trying to look on the bright side of things, at least they'll be more careful.

"Well…better safe than sorry, right? Plus you guys won't be so bored on the ride there!" You internally cringed at your feeble attempt to cheer the man up.

Hey, at least it made him laugh though.

"Ye ready to deal wit' another crew of dafties 'en, bonnie?"

Laughing, you closed the door to the aircraft.

"I'll see you in a bit, las."

-

The briefing ends; said Austrian begins heading towards the designated lockers.

Kortac had been called back by the SAS, unsurprisingly. They’d worked alongside the particular military service before (more than a few times).

The report claimed a certain special ops unit would need some assistance on an important mission. The team was ordered to help aid as a “battering ram” of sorts, both pre and post mission.

Of course they knew just who to send alongside for additional aid to the team.

König rolled his eyes, slamming the locker in frustration. He really didn’t want to be here at all. In his eyes, he was assisting a potential enemy. The SAS wasn’t necessarily a foe to KorTac, but it’s not like they were allies either.

So case in point (to König), he was being forced to help the potential enemy.

There were other soldiers sent alongside König. One of them looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, “Alles gut?”

König looked over at the soldier and said nothing, hood completely concealing his annoyed face. He’d rather be anywhere else than here if he’s being honest.

Heading towards the helipad, where he’d meet the rest of his ‘team’ mates, König tripled checked his tactical gear on him before stepping onto the designated helicopter.

His eyes narrowed onto a familiar face—or rather a mask—he had met before. Ghost simply responded back to König’s hostile stare vice versa. Neither said anything, but sat on opposite sides of one another.

No mind was paid to the rest that got onto the helicopter, except for Sergeant MacTavish, who made his entrance known with a hearty laugh followed by an annoyed looking Sergeant Garrick.

After the rest got settled in, Captain Price stood center and went over some key details again, mainly about KorTac’s assistance on the mission. König felt someone’s eyes on him as a chill ran along his neck. He turned his head and saw the same soldier from earlier at the lockers move to sit next to him. Said soldier looked away nervously to avoid the blue eyes.

Komisch. König narrowed his eyes in confusion, but remained silent overall. He felt the soldier lean in, “Is this your first time working with them?” They then gestured their head towards Task force 141. König didn’t acknowledge them and remained quiet. Looking away, he ignored the huff of the—now annoyed— soldier.

“Ist mir doch...”

König ignored the subliminal guilt he felt by acting like he didn’t hear the soldier’s mutterings. Trying to distract himself, he re-checked his tactical gear.

Knife is attached to his side. His tourniquet was in place, perfectly positioned if needed. He had 2 extra stocks on his left thigh—

Thoughts were interrupted as 2 pairs of feet stepped onto the helicopter and the doors were closed. König looked up and he swore he heard himself swallow back a gulp. Thank whatever is up there that he had his hood concealing his face. König could feel his face becoming warm.

Completely ignoring the other pilot officer greeting the team, his eyes focused on you.

Who were you?

You seemed to be standing at almost—if not the same—height as König,

He absolutely loved that.

Eyes fell onto your hands, noticing the lack of a band surrounding it, which he also seemed to love.

He was unsure if he had a visceral reaction to your presence but it felt like when people saw color for the first time. He felt the need to hide his flustered face (even though the hood already does that for him).

Du siehst bezaubernd aus.

He thought, eyes not leaving your form.

As you and the other pilot head towards the cockpit, he couldn't help but ponder.

Was that what many consider ‘love at first sight'? Him? In love?

The idea seemed almost laughable, mainly because he didn't think he could ever imagine him even having the courage to even attempt to pursue someone. Let alone have someone finding him worth being with.

König (sadly) broke his stare by looking at the soldier who jabbed his shoulder. Bothered, he turned towards them with narrowed eyes.

Grinning, the soldier commented, "As they say in America; statuesque."

-

Stepping towards the helicopter, you could feel your mind calm down. You knew exactly what to do. Tis the moment. You're in the zone.

Ew. That’s literally so cheesy.

You thought as you covered your hand to hide the growing smile.

Your co-pilot turned over at you, “Everything ok?” he asked, confused.

Putting a hand down, you nodded, “Yep. Just…thinking of something.”

He gave you an odd look but didn't perpetuate any further, simply muttering under his breath, “...How’d I get stuck with the tall weirdo?”

You pretend not to hear that, letting out a sigh and stepping onto the helicopter.

The co-pilot flashed everyone a tight-lipped smile as eyes fell onto him first, “Proud to be working with everyone here.” But eyes quickly fell onto the person looming over him.

That person being you.

With a flashed smile and wave, you greeted them, “I’m going to be your eyes in the skies today.”

The assisting team nodded a ‘Yes Officer’ your way. Nodding to the group, you observed them until one of them caught your eye.

The moment your eyes landed on the gentleman in the hood suddenly time had stopped, not noticing when he looked back either. His eyes widened whilst looking like he had choked on the air or something.

He looked a little bit taller than you—only a little—which almost never happens.

He was also oddly cute (considering he had a full on sack over his head).

Suddenly self conscious about appearance, you straighten up and try to hide the blush apparent on your face. If it's obvious, nobody dares say anything.

It probably didn't help that he was staring back at you as well. Interlocked, neither breaking eye-contact till the soldier next to him nudged his shoulder.

Luckily, you were able to gather yourself and head into the cockpit. It seemed like the others had disappeared, leaving only you and him. But you surged on, unaware of eyes following your direction.

Finally out of sight, you were able to find your footing and headed towards the left.

Your co-pilot sat to your right.

Alright, it’s go time.

Snorting, you muttered, “...still so cheesy.”

“Huh?” the co-pilot turned.

“Nothing!”

-

It was finally over. The mission was done. You could feel the relief washing over as you were able to land on the helipad again.

No casualties (thankfully), except for 2 soldiers who were grazed by bullets. One of them being Ghost, who had apparently saved one of the other soldiers who were shot.

You still remembered upon landing to reach them on the field, Ghost was angrily dragging the other wounded soldier by the vest, holding his shoulder in the process.

One soldier yanked out a med kit as another snatched them away from the lieutenant.

The shouting could be heard from the cockpit as you flew away. You and your co-pilot ignored it and continued to flee the warzone.

As you were able to land, you slowly started feeling at ease.

Even though you’ve been flying for years, the adrenaline and anxiety was still the same every time.

The difficulty was always trying to shake the feeling of nerves off. A good cigarette always seems to ease them away. Speaking of which…

You reached into your lower back pocket; you cursed when you didn’t feel any familiar shaped boxed. Must’ve left the pack in your locker. Luckily, it wasn’t too far.

Headed towards said lockers, someone had walked next to you. Upon looking, no words were exchanged as you were side-to-side with the extremely tall soldier.

You expected him to say something. He didn’t. Simply continue to walk.

You decided to do so instead.

“Hello.”

The hooded man faced you this time with flat eyes. You stopped walking, so did he. Gulping down the nervousness, you took a good look at him.

He was taller than you, even if it was by a couple inches only. He was still taller than you.

“Sorry for bothering but…” chewing on your lip (which he definitely looked at), you confessed, “...I've never seen someone as tall—hell—taller than me. So I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You tell him your name, trying not to seem so upfront about it. He continues to look on for a while, in which you think maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all.

“König.” is all he (manages to) says and continues to walk (although appearing dull looking towards you, he was internally sweating bullets as well).

“...Well König…I was wondering…if you would like to…maybe hangout, tonight. I'm actually going out to head for some drinks tonight and I thought…” you chuckled nervously while trying not to mumble, he however, cut you off.

“What?” König asked in what seemed an annoyed tone.

Not to him though, he just seemed weary about strangers, plus he didn't really know how to act around someone he seemed to have a crush on. He didn't even think he sounded rude about it.

Which was the problem.

You quickly explained to him, “Well…we don't have to. I swear I just wanted to offer maybe I thought you'd be interested-”

He cut you off again, “Why would I want to spend my time with you?” 

Oh god König. If only he knew just how bad he was fucking this up.

Swallowing, you looked away from said man, “Um…nevermind I didn't mean to disturb you, please, forget I ever bothered you haha…” you slowly drifted off, trying to hide the wobble in your lip.

Forcing a smile you began to walk away from him.

König’s eyes widened as you began to walk away.

No. No. No. Nein. Nein-

Was tust du?! He thought as he saw your lips wobble.

Do something before they leave!

“Wait!” He blurted out. This time he didn't seem to care that the surrounding soldiers looked at him.

But when you turned around however, he felt his stomach flutter.

Oh shit now what-

He didn’t know what to say now. So he simply just walked up, grabbed both of your shoulders and explained how he’d love to go out for drinks.

Motivated, you just looked up at him, the genuine smile creeping back onto your face, “Really?”

König felt himself freeze, but nodded regardless:

“Ja.”

“Okay, great…Amazing!” Giving him the details, you headed towards the lockers, the–now–lovestruck smile on your face. König waved until he realized what he just did.

He agreed to go out for drinks. With you.

With you. 

What was his issue then? Nothing was wrong with you.

But you wanna go out with him. Him.…now that's a different story.

He was freaking out–not that anyone could tell–König stood still in one spot, till the hand on his shoulder broke him out of it. It was the previous soldier from before:

“Gut?” they tried asking König again, who narrowed his eyes back at them. 

“Ja.”

Can you tell this was rushed and kinda a little self indulgent? Yeah, now I feel kinda cringe. Also didn't mean to cut it off so suddenly, maybe to be continued? Maybe.

[frownyalfred]

i LOVED the new eye in the sky chap! of course, you have the soul-crushing rage-inducing angst pile on bruce's end, but i also really appreciated the duke-hal moment; he's so level-headed about the situation that you don't really build up too much stress over him, but then you brought in a different kind of heartbreak with the realization that he's been in this position enough times to know that the least provoking thing he can do is to do nothing at all.

and the FUTURESPEAKING jesus CHRIST — it’s a different type, but your time manipulation fuckery is almost equally as hard to wrap your head around as the stuff in tenet (the nolan movie), it's genuinely so impressive. (sorry, i'm just gonna run my mouth here for a minute, but the idea really caught me and now i Have to share all my thoughts just to get them out of my brain, though i hope that you'll be generous enough to weigh in as well😅) i'd imagine that there's actually relatively very few people, in-universe, who can do this so that duke hears it correctly, because you have to be able to focus your mind and put enough intent into the idea that you're about to say something that it "registers" as the imminent future—which means that you have to, at the same time, be completely repressing your knowledge that you're NOT going to actually vocalize whatever it is, because that intention would obviously counteract the first. and THEN, to make what's already quite a tough mental exercise even more impressive, bruce is: thinking of a futurespeak-response, putting enough focus/intent behind it for that future to crystallize (and again, it's a double-headed task, because of the repression required as well), and then cutting that off in order to think of and say something completely different, *all in about just the same amount of time a normal person would take to respond naturally in a conversation.* (also, slightly less mind-boggling but still quite impressive to me and i want to give him his props: duke, in that last bit at the end at least, is maintaining both his awareness in the present and the mental effort of using his powers to see the future, in order to hear the exact same voice say two different things at the same time, and is able to not only maintain the background effort needed to hear both things, but is taking in enough detail to see/hear/notice "both" bruces' tone and body language. ...i mean, maybe that's not so impressive to people without auditory processing issues lmao, but as someone who's constantly asking people to repeat themselves, or really having to focus on the sounds when somebody's speaking to me, even in one-on-one conversations, it certainly impressed me!)

anyways, yeah, this just inspired a lot of interesting trains of thought for me and i wanted to share lol. your fics are always such great reads, can't wait for your next update! Hope you're well💜

Thank you so much!!!! You absolutely nailed what I was trying to get at with Duke’s powers. I really didn���t want over explain it and have people roll their eyes, but I also didn’t want to leave readers mystified as to what he was doing.

Duke and Bruce are supremely well matched in this fic for that reason among many others — Bruce has a freaky brain and understands time/intention well enough to be able to think, speak, and re-speak that quickly.

He can compartmentalize like no one else. I am not obviously that smart, but the way I thought about it was playing competing melodies on the piano with two different hands - once you find the rhythm, the way they work off each other, you can maintain both easily. Where they gap, where they overlap, where they compete for your attention.

Duke is good at glimpsing a few seconds forward/back but definitely not for long periods. Like Bruce said, he’s going to need help to train that and avoid burning himself out! Luckily he’s just listening and not double speaking like Bruce is.

Someone on ao3 left me this in the comment section and they’re so right lol:

I feel bad for Hal, just a little, just like Duke does. He was tortured by Kal essentially, and where he does want to hurt Bruce (a lot) there are still some lines he won’t cross. I don’t know if that makes him redeemable or just not entirely beyond redemption. I think Bruce seems to know this too — teasing him with that moral code he used to hold so tightly to.

It was definitely a fun space to play around in! Writing this fic is difficult for me (agh worldbuilding) but whenever I try I’m pleasantly surprised by how much fun I have. Thank you so much for reading!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for bringing a fake boyfriend to my friend's party?

to condense as best i can, i (30, transwoman, city of pop. >10million) recently become the mother hen to a brood of wonderful baby queers (8 total, 17-23, boys and girls, all moved for school in the last year or so, most had never set foot in ANY city before). we live on the same floor of an apartment complex, and we've all grown very close over the past months; i help them use the metro, they tell me when they're going on dates and text so i know they got home safe, i cook weekend dinners, and they all slept in my living room for a week when another apartment on the floor was broken into. i think of them as somewhere between friends, younger relatives, or even my own children.

recently, one of the older ones (21) has realized he's also trans and come out to me, and i'm so proud and grateful that i can guide him through his early transition. unfortunately, there's his mother.

he'd first told me her response to his coming out was "better than expected", so i assumed she was tolerant, if not supportive yet. i've since learned she continually misgenders him, thinks this is a "tomboy phase" he'll marry out of someday, and has begun listening to more right-wing podcasts and news sites in order to "hear from both sides".

along with the other 7 kids, i've been invited to stay at the family's farm for his birthday in august, & while he's assured me she won't make a scene with company around, he's implied she has many opinions about my prescense, but said that i shouldn't tone myself down, and that if anything "it would be good for her to learn to be kind to you early, since we're family too now". two of the girls are partners, which the mother knows, but she does not seem to care about this and said that bringing a date was fine.

i have another friend (31) who's much more loudly queer than i am. on top of this, he's heavily tattooed (HUGE taboo here), rides a motorcycle, and is very outspoken and unshakable. i told him about all of this, and he offered to come along as my boyfriend, both to bother this woman, and so i won't be in a tiny (population SEVENTY-THREE!) unfamiliar town alone if anything happens. he's met the kids several times now, they get along well, and the birthday boy has said "that all sounds hysterical. do whatever you want."

my worry here is that the mother is already MUCH worse than he'd first lead me to believe, so i don't know that i can trust the kid's judgment that everything will be fine. i don't care about hurting this woman at all, and both i and my friend have dealt with even nastier people before so i'm not afraid of her, but i DO NOT want to do anything that could put this boy in a difficult position, especially since he'll likely be living with his family every summer until he's finished school, if not longer. i know what i can personally tolerate, but i don't know what he can, especially from a mother.

would i be an asshole to bring my "boyfriend" along? is it best to just go solo? or should i stay away entirely until he's back in the city?

What are these acronyms?